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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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Bagels and Bites

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Synopsis: Sebastian likes to flirt with you in interviews

Masterlist

It all started when you met him on The Late Late Show.

“How are you all feeling tonight?” James asked you and Sebastian Stan as you sat on the guest couch.

“I’m excited.” You beamed as Sebastian rested his arm on the couch behind you.

“So am I. We should probably talk about this later,” Sebastian smiled directly at you, “but we’ve been wanting to meet each other for a long time.”

“Have you?” James chuckled.

“No.” You laughed and playfully hit Sebastian in the chest. “We had one interaction on Twitter and he thinks there’s something between us.”

“It was a very flirty interaction.” Sebastian clarified. “There were sparks flying all over those tweets.”

“So this is your first time actually meeting?” James asked. “Even though you’re in the marvel movies together?”

“It’s weird. I haven’t met half the cast.” You shrugged. “I’ll meet everyone else once the press tour starts but so far I’ve only met the people I’ve filmed with. Just Chris, and Chris, and um, oh yeah. Chris.”

You looked down and smiled to yourself when you heard Sebastian laughing at your joke. Even though you’d never met him, you’d always liked him. It was a well known secret on the Internet that you were his celebrity crush, since he was so inclined on bringing it up in almost every interview of his. Being face to face for the first time now, you were feeling a little intoxicated from his charm. Well, his charm and the white wine you’d been sipping on.

“I hope they stop putting me with Mackie and start putting me with Y/n once this press tour starts.” Sebastian said after taking a sip of his wine. “I love him but I can’t keep babysitting him at 8 in the morning. I’d like to wake up to someone who looks a little more like this one.”

“I know what you mean.” You agreed. “He would show up to set every morning all ready to go and I’m like dude, give me a few hours for my personality to arrive.”

“I was so mad that he got to film with you and I didn’t.” Sebastian shook his head. “We finally get cast in a movie together and we’re never in the same scene.”

“Well,” you put your hand on his knee and patted it, “we’re meeting now. Lucky you.”

“Yeah.” He smirked at you. “Lucky me.”

“Now, Sebastian.” James reminded you both that he was there. “I heard a rumor that you have a little crush on Y/n.”

“Well, I try not to pay attention to rumors.” Sebastian waved his hand. “But that ones pretty accurate.”

“Oh my God.” You put your hand over your heart, which was about to beat out of your chest, and laughed.

“It’s true. I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I feel like I’ve seen you all my life. And here you are in person and you look so great.” Sebastian said through a shy smile. You laughed in shock at his compliment and looked down at your lap.

“You’re fully going for it.” James laughed at how bold Sebastian was being.

“You’re not being a very good wingman.” You teased James as you took a long sip of your drink. The more alcohol you had in you, the easier it would be to flirt with the incredible attractive man next to you.

“I was never known for that.” James agreed. “But I heard your brother is a pretty good one, isn’t he?”

“Oh My God.” You groaned, knowing exactly what James was referring to. “He’s not.”

“What happened?” Sebastian wondered, never taking his eyes off you.

“I took my brother to the Oscars with me last year and we happened to be sitting next to Jake Gyllenhaal.” You explained. “And the whole night, he’s telling Jake about how I used to be in love with him when I was a kid. If there weren’t a bunch of cameras around us, I would’ve rung his neck.”

“So I’m assuming you and Jake aren’t the next celebrity power couple?” James teased.

“We are not.” You shook your head. “I can confidently say that I was still single.”

“I was just gonna and say, there’s still hope for us.” Sebastian gestured between the two of you. You opened your mouth in shock before biting down on your tongue. You playfully hit Sebastian again, signally that you were just as interested as he was.

“You’re really going for it.” James pointed out. “I must say, wow.”

“Why not?” Sebastian grinned. “This is the time.”

“You are pretty cute, I just wanna say.” You flirted back for the hell of it. Sebastian laughed in surprise before covering his face with his hands. You laughed as well as he hunched over to hide his face.

“He’s actually gone red now!” James pointed at him. “He was so sure of himself and now he’s all red.”

“Leave him alone.” You pouted as you rubbed Sebastians back. Sebastian sat back up and rubbed his face with his hands.

“Yeah.” Sebastian said assertively as he wrapped an arm around you. “Leave me alone. I’m trying to flirt here.”

“How would you ask her on a date, then?” James asked. “Since you’re so in love with her.”

“Like this.” Sebastian said as he turned to you “Ce faci?”

“Would you bite me in the neck?” You asked, catching him completely off guard. He took his arm away and laughed in shock at your words.

“Oh my God.” He chuckled as he looked around in embarrassment. Suddenly, he turned back to you and cupped one side of your face, tilting your neck slightly with his hand. He bit down on your exposed neck, making the audience erupt in a series of laughter and gasps. You giggled when you felt his scruff tickling your neck and made no effort to push him off.

“He actually did it.” James looked at the audience to see if they were seeing what he was.

“She asked me to.” Sebastian rolled his eyes playfully. His arm was still around you and neither of you wanted it off.

“It was a hypothetical but I guess I know my answer.” You shrugged as you leaned back on the couch.

“Why would you ask him that?” James wondered.

“Like a vampire.” You explained. “Aren’t vampires from Romania?”

“That’s Transylvania.” Sebastian smiled fondly at you.

“Oh.” You realized. “I still liked it.”

“I’ll do it again later.” Sebastian shrugged, making your hide your face in embarrassment.

“Promise?” You said suddenly as you put your hand back on his knee. It was Sebastians turn to be baffled as he put his free hand on tops of yours.

“Darling.” He choked out, too stunned to form a full sentence.

“This has been an intense experience.” James fans himself with his cards. “What will the two of you do after the show?”

“I’ll probably go home, order a pizza, and pass out while watching all of Sebastian’s episodes of Once Upon a Time.” You joked.

“I was going to do the exact same thing.” Sebastian nodded. “Right after I got a job as a pizza delivery boy so I can go to Y/n’s house.”

“Or you could just come over.” You shrugged, making Sebastian blush.

“I like that idea too.” Sebastian replied.

“I’m trying to imagine what the poor pizza delivery boy is gonna see when he arrives at Y/n’s house later.” James grimaced, making the audience laugh.

“I know, right? They open the door and this is what the get.” Sebastian gestured to you. “It’s you. How lucky they are.”

You leaned into him as you laughed, the alcohol making you feel bolder than usual. You’d never be this flirty with a man you’d just met, but he made it too easy.

The rest of the interview continued in a similar fashion, with you and Sebastian unapologetically flirting with each other every chance you got. By the end of the interview, you were so close that your knees were touching. When it came time to say goodbye, you felt an unexpected pane of sadness.

“Well, thank you both for coming on the show tonight.” James smiled. “I hope I’ll be invited to the wedding.”

“You will. And I wanted to thank you. For this.” Sebastian said as he slipped his fingers through yours and held up your hands. You beamed and squeezed his hand, fully tipsy now the the interview was over.

After thanking James and drinking another glass of wine, you drunkenly pulled Sebastian off the couch.

“Come in the photo booth with me.” You giggled as you tugged him by the hand towards the booth.

“Okay.” He grinned as he climbed inside. He pulled you into his lap and pressed the button before wrapping his arms around your waist. The pictures began to snap away and you posed for all of them. For the first, you just held each other close and smiled. For the second, he leaned up to kiss your cheek. And for the third, he took another bite of your neck.

“That tickles.” You giggled as the camera flashed.

“Good.” He smirked against your skin before pressing a kiss there.

“Stick your tongue out.” You told him, and he obliged. You licked his tongue as the fourth picture was taken, capturing the drunken moment. The fifth flash went off right as Sebastian connected your lips to his. You continued to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his lips and tongue.

“Oh my God.” You pulled away suddenly. “I have to pee.”

You got off his lap and ran to the restroom, leaving him alone in the photo booth.

The next time you saw Sebastian, neither of you brought the kiss up. Whether you thought the other was too drunk to remember or you were simply too embarrassed to bring it up, it was not mentioned.

The flirting, however, the flirting continued.

“What would you like to see for your characters in the next movies?” The journalist asked you and Sebastian as you sat together in a press junket.

“For our characters specifically, I’d like to see some graphic love making.” Sebastian said seriously. “I think that that’s something the movies have been lacking.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed and shook your head. “Me too, actually. I think it would be really in character and important to the plot.”

“How would that benefit the plot?” The journalist asked.

“It’s simple. I would just change my name to “the plot” and bam.” Sebastian clapped his hands. “I’m benefited.”

“He’s such a flirt.” You said as you rested your elbow on his shoulder. “Can you believe him?”

“I can’t.” The journalist chuckled.

“You know what I’d like to see? Some method acting. Why can’t you be as quiet as Bucky?” You teased Sebastian as you flicked his ear.

“How would I tell you how pretty you are if I wasn’t speaking?” He flirted back.

“This is what I have to put up with.” You shook your head as looked at the camera. “What about you? What do you want to see from our characters?”

“I would like to see Bucky do the knife trick some more.” The journalist answered you.

“What knife trick?” You wondered.

“It’s the thing he does when he flips his knife around and stabs people.” Sebastian explained as he moved his hand in a circle. “It took me forever to learn.”

“Wait, I wanna see it.” You smiled excitedly and turned to him.

“No, no.” He wagged his finger at you. “I’m not doing the knife trick.”

“Please?” You pouted. “For me?”

“All right, all right.” Sebastian broke into a grin. “I’m only doing this because you asked nicely.”

The journalist handed him a pen and he easily flipped it around and caught it before making a stabbing motion. You let out a gasp and stared at him in shock for a long time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you.

“I wanna to fuck you, that’s what’s wrong.” You replied. “Can you do it again?”

Sebastian laughed at your joke as his face heated up. He knew that was just the way you two liked to tease each other, but it didn’t mean it didn’t make him smile.

“I’ll do it again.” He nodded as picked the pen back up. “Anything for you.”

On a day where the interviews ended early, you spent the night in Sebastians hotel room, getting drunk on his balcony.

“What about you?” Sebastian asked as he took a sip of his beer. “What was your best kissing scene? I know you’ve kissed some pretty great actors. Might be hard to pick.”

“It’s not. I hate kissing actors.” You grimaced. “It’s not even kissing. It’s just like, limp lips on limp lips. There’s no passion when it’s for a scene. I hate it.”

“Maybe you’re just kissing the wrong actors.” Sebastian shrugged playfully as he gazed at you.

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. “I’ve never felt anything when kissing another actor. You can’t tell me you do.”

“I do.” He shrugged again. “Its not much, but I wouldn’t say it’s nothing.”

“What? How?” You wondered. “If you kissed me right now, you wouldn’t feel anything. I guarantee it.”

“I think I would.” Sebastian disagreed.

“All right.” You turned your chair a little to face him. “Prove me wrong.”

Sebastian tweaked an eyebrow up before leaning in to kiss you. You kissed him back for a few seconds before pulling away. You looked past him for a minute as you mulled the moment over in your head.

“What’s the matter?” He asked quietly.

“I was incorrect.” You chuckled a little. “I guess I did feel something.”

“I told you you would.” He said smugly. “I knew you’d feel something.”

“How’d you know?” You whined as he basked in the glory of being right.

“Because I felt something the last time we kissed.” He said simply. “And I knew you did too.”

“I didn’t realize you remembered that.” You smirked before talking a sip from his beer.

“Course I do.” He replied. “I think about that night all the time. It was the start of a beautiful, sexually frustrating friendship.”

“Oh, I’m sexually frustrating?” You laughed. “Try being your friend. It’s hard to look at you, really.”

“That’s not how I feel about you.” He smiled a little. “I really, really like looking at you.”

“I like you too.” You smiled back.

“That’s not what I said.” He teased. You dropped your jaw and stole his beer again, taking a long sip as you held eye contact.

“It’s what you meant.” You stuck your tongue out at him. You sat in comfortable silence for a minute, listening to the chirps of the crickets as a warm breeze wafted through the air.

“The press tour is ending soon.” You said quietly as you adverted your eyes. “Tomorrow’s the premier. Then, it’s all over.”

“I know.” He said softly. You looked at him and gave him a sad smile, to which he returned.

“We won’t get to see each other every day anymore.” You pointed out.

“Then we better make tomorrow count.” He said simply. He knew what you were implying, that there was no point in starting something when you’d both been going home soon, but he didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to enjoy his last few days with you.

“Yeah.” You smiled sadly and looked away again. “We better.”

The following night at the premier, you felt an overwhelming sadness knowing that it was all ending. You loved the weeks you’d spent goofing off with Sebastian, even if it never led to a real relationship. It still meant something to you, and you hoped it meant something to him.

To counteract your sadness, you sat with Chris Evans at the bar and let him distract you. After spending a minute with him, you were feeling drunk and ready to find Sebastian. You spotted him on the red carpet, fixed your dress, and went up to him.

“Hi.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You smiled up at him as he wrapped an arm around you, taking an usually loud whiff of his cologne.

“Hey.” He chuckled as he patted your back. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good.” You said as you swayed a little. “Question, is there alcohol in a Shirley Temple? Because I feel like I’ve had alcohol.”

“There is.” He laughed again and steadied you. “Did you know that?”

“Nope.” You sniffed him again. “You smell good.”

“Oh no.” He smiled as your behavior. “How many did you have?”

“I was having a contest with Evans to see who could drink more. I had like 5.” You bragged as you almost fell over.

“Oh dear.” He quickly caught you. “You’re staying with me tonight. I don’t trust drunk you.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to babysit me.” You waved your hand and tried to walk away. You instantly stumbled and neatly fell, but Sebastian wrapped his arms around you and caught you.

“I think I do.” He chuckled as you put you on your feet. “Come on. You’re sticking with me.”

The next morning, you woke up with a throbbing headache. Not feeling the strength to sit up, you opened a single eye and looked around. You were definitely not in your own room, but you recognized who’s room you were in.

“Good morning.” Sebastians voice was usually loud, making you wince.

“Oh God.” You groaned as you sat up. You groggily opened your eyes as Sebastian handed you a cup of coffee.

“Here.” He smiled shyly. “How’s the head?”

“The head is in pain.” You groaned. “So is the rest of the body.”

“Here. Drink this.” He held out a glass of water and some Advil. “And take these.”

“Thanks.” You smiled sheepishly as you accepted his offerings.

“Did you at least win the drinking contest?” He asked as he took a seat on the bed. You took a long sip of water and swallowed the pills before answering his questions.

“I did.” You nodded. “But at what cost?”

“You’ll start to feel better once you get some food in you.” Sebastian said as he rubbed your shoulder. You put your hand over his and stared at him, feeling the guilt set in.

“I’m sorry I got drunk.” You mumbled. “I didn’t mean to ruin the last night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Sebastian shook his head. “Trust me, we still had fun. I’m not sure how much you remember though.”

“I remember sitting with you at the premier.” You recalled. “And eating many, many bagels.”

“Yeah, we stopped at a bakery.” He chuckled. “You ate a dozen. I watched it all.”

“Oh God.” You covered your face with your hands. “That’s not how I wanted to spend our last night together.”

“How did you want to spend it together?” He asked quietly.

“Probably in a way that still ended with me waking up in your bed.” You joked like you usually did. “But I could do without the part where you watched me eat 12 bagels.”

“What do you mean?” He grinned. “That was the best part.”

“How’d I end up in your bed anyway?” You asked before taking another sip of coffee.

“You threw your key card at a seagull who was eyeing your bagel.” He explained. “You couldn’t get into your room so I let your crash in mine.”

You looked around the room and saw his pull out couch was topped with pillows and sheets, evidence of him sleeping there.

“Did you sleep on the pull out?” You pointed to it in disbelief.

“Of course I did.” He shrugged.

“Such a gentleman.” You scrunched your nose at him before finishing the coffee.

“Basic human decency is not exactly being a gentleman.” He pointed out.

“Maybe not.” You agreed. “But you still are one. You prove that to me everyday.”

“That must be why you like me so much.” He teased.

“Must be.” You dished it right back. Sebastians smile fell suddenly as he got a serious look on his face.

“I think you and I need to have a talk.” He said softly.

“Oh God.” You feared. “Did I puke on you last night?”

“No.” He chuckled. “It’s not about last night.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“As much as I love flirting with you, and I do, I think you should know it’s not just a joke to me.” He began. “And I wanted to know if it was just a joke to you or if-“

“It’s not.” You said a little too quickly, which made him smile. “I...I like you. A lot, actually. One might even call it love.”

Upon hearing this, Sebastian leaned forward to kiss you. You held a hand to stop him and gave him an apologetic look.

“I wouldn’t.” You grimaced. “My morning breath is-“

“-something I could get used to.” He cut you off before going in for the kiss. You immediately kissed him back, pulling him by his shirt to have him closer. He climbed over you as you tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I don’t care if its our last day.” He mumbled against your lips. “I want to do this for real. I wanna be with you.”

You kissed him back to tell him you felt the same way, not trusting yourself to say something smooth in the heat of the moment.

“Wait.” You pushed him back suddenly and held him away from you.

“Whats wrong?” He asked as he hovered over you.

“Can we get bagels after this?” You asked seriously before breaking into a smile.

“I seriously can’t stand you.” He said before leaning down to kiss you again. “You’re lucky I love you because I don’t like you at all.”

“12 wasn’t enough.” You giggled between kisses. “I need more. I crave them. I crave the yeast.”

Sebastian stopped kissing you for a moment and looked at you with a fond expression. You stared back at him as a content smile tugged at your lips. The flirting had finally lead to something more and neither of you could be happier.

“You know, you might actually be more annoying than Mackie.” He teased you before leaning down to kiss your neck.

“Shut up.” You laughed. “Shut up and bite me in the neck.”

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#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x yn #sebastian stan x actress!reader #sebastian stan fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes

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soundcrusher · 2 years ago

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Making a new friend, maybe even friends?

Part 4 of the Spinoff set in the normal sentient Lost Light au from @cuppajj is out and I gotta say, the crew of the Lost Light better watch out, because reg/Phoenix just found a new friend in sg/Phoenix.

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When Phoenix woke up again, he found himself alone. Well, maybe not completely alone, there was an orange mech with glasses sitting next to the berth he was laying on. But even with the company, the youngling still felt alone. A feeling he started to dislike ever since he was locked into that one empty hab-suit, after angering Lightlost.

“Ah, it seems you’re awake now.” Said the orange mech with a smile, before adjusting his glasses and looking down at the data-pad he was holding. “My name is Rung, and you must be Phoenix, if I am not mistaken?” Phoenix only nodded as an answer, before looking down at his servos.

A long moment of silence passed between them, before Phoenix tried to open his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a choked sob. Prompting the youngling to bury his face in his servos, while Rung let him cry. From what the other Rodimus told them, the psychiatrist could tell that this situation wasn’t ideal for the young spark. So, he let him be. Although seeing Phoenix trying to hold back his tears and swallow his pain wasn’t helping him, Rung thought, it was only adding to the already present stress of being confronted with a place holding both good and traumatic memories.

So, he stood up and placed a servo on Phoenix’s shoulder. Gaining the younglings attention. And as he saw the teary red optics of the youngspark look at him, the orange mech simply smiled. “It’s okay to cry. You don’t have to hold anything back, especially after everything you went through.” Hearing those words only caused Phoenix to let out a small whimper, before his cries turned into loud sobbing. "That's it. Let it all out. You don't have to keep your tears back. You’re such a strong youngling for making it this far Phoenix, you don’t have to be ashamed of your tears.”

Phoenix doesn’t know how long he cried, or when he started hugging Rung, but he didn’t care. It felt freeing, letting everything out, no matter if it came out as tears or an incoherent mumbled mess. He was able to express how he felt, and that was all that mattered. And when he was finished crying, he and Rung had a small conversation. Not about the things he went through, but rather about the things he liked to do.

And Phoenix found himself getting really excited, as he told Rung about the small adventures he and his Rodimus had. Telling the orange mech about the first time they went to an amusement park, to the christmas market they visited before they ended up in this universe, and Rung listened. Asking small questions then and there, or writing things down on his data-pad. Although, after a while, he had to go again. He had patients to attend to, and Phoenix understood. Saying his goodbyes to the psychiatrist and watching him leave.

After Rung was gone, Phoenix swung his legs over the edge of the berth and slowly stood up. Using it to stabilize himself, before taking a look around the hab–suit he was in.

He could already tell that it was different from the ones he was used to. This one was a lot lighter, not as dark as the one he was forced to spend his time in and, for some strange reason, it felt a lot more welcoming. Kind of like his mothers home, whenever he came back from school crying, because the meaner older kids or his classmates decided to hunt him down after their classes were finished only to shove him into a dumpster or kick him. Yea, those kids were true afts…

The hab-suit was also a lot warmer than the ones he’s used to. Maybe that’s why they feel so welcoming? Either way, Phoenix was pretty sure that if he laid back down on the berth and curled up underneath the blanket, maybe even get Mister Sharky out and cuddle with him, he would fall back into recharge right away. Which didn’t sound like a bad plan. Although, before Phoenix could get out his shark plush, a sound from within the ceiling got his attention. Causing him to slowly back away from where the sound was coming from, in fear that either the ceiling started to come down, or that cables would start pulling him into the walls again. But the only thing that popped out was a vent cover and a head.

And Phoenix found himself staring into his own face.

“Are you coming? I bet being locked up in a hab-suit all by yourself isn’t fun.” Said the black and red version of himself as he reached down a servo towards him. And Phoenix reached up. Getting pulled into the vent by his own doppelgänger, before he led him down some twists and turns and together, they emerged somewhere Phoenix wasn’t before. Although, before he could even ask where they were, his doppelgänger grabbed his servo yet again and pulled him down the hall. Striking up a small conversation about some things. Confusing Phoenix a lot.

“Alright, so, I think we already know each other's names. I mean, I’m Phoenix and you’re Phoenix too.” Said the black and red youngling with a slight smirk. “But I kinda want to know if these are the only similarities between us. And we don’t have to count our frames, because they’re obviously the same.”

“I….” Phoenix was at a loss of words. How was someone supposed to answer this, especially when it came from another version of himself? But it seemed like he didn’t, because the other youngling was quick to pick up on the confusion and change his question. “So, Runningway, huh?” Now that was a question Phoenix knew how to answer, and it led to a conversation between the two, that was mostly made up of them telling each other what Runningway, and their past crew, did to them. With both of them coming to the conclusion that both of their crews were messed up for taking their resentment out on younglings that just happened to look like Rodimus Prime.

“Like, how cowardly do you have to be to not hunt down the one mech you hate, but rather beat on your crewmember who simply looks like him? Tch, as if I wanted to be born looking like this…” Muttered the darker youngling, which got a nod from the lighter one. “I know what you mean, but with me, it was even worse. Everyone thought that my Roddy was dead. So, some thought I was just very unlucky for looking like him, while others thought I was him reborn! But I am not. I’m very much my own self, and not like what they thought I was!”

“Tch, our crews were all fragged in the head.”

“I wouldn’t say it like that, because it sounds mean, but… yea…”

They continued talking with each other, even as the darker youngling convinced Phoenix to come with him to Swerve’s, despite him not being sure if he wanted to be somewhere where a lot of the crew was. But his doppelgänger still convinced him. That’s why Phoenix found himself sitting in a booth at Swerve’s with the other youngspark sitting across from him, after he got them their energon, before both of them continued talking. Picking up another conversation topic, because talking about their past crew was slowly hitting too close to their spark.

“Okay, so, we need a different name for you.” Said his doppelgänger, after they just finished a conversation about baking. “I’m pretty sure that it’s going to be confusing if we address you with Phoenix, when I also have that name. Sooo… hmmm…. How about White? Because of the white parts of your armor?”

“Only if I get to call you Red, because of the red parts of yours.” Countered Phoenix, which earned him a small disgruntled look from the other youngling, before he shook his head. “Yea, okay, I get it…” He muttered, before snapping his fingers and grinning, pointing at Phoenix. “Okay, so, I think I got a better idea. You’re from a different universe, right? One that’s like a mirror version of this one, just twisted. Kinda like Shattered Glass, right? So why not call you Shattered Glass Phoenix with sg/Phoenix being the shortened version?”

“But what if your Rodimus doesn’t want all of his crew to know that my brother and I are from a different universe?”Asked Phoenix, which caused his friend to hit himself on he forehead, before muttering something like ‘You’re right’. “Also… I don’t know how things are going to be now… Maybe mister suitcase mech and his friend will get us back home tomorrow, maybe in a week, maybe a year, or maybe even today. Trying to figure out something like an alias for me sounds like too much work…”

“Hmmm… Maybe I should ask Lightlost for help. They usually know what to do in unusual situations…” Muttered the youngling, and as if said mech heard them, Lightlost was walking up to their booth. Greeting both of them, before sitting down next to this universe's Phoenix. With said youngling giving them a happy ‘hello’ in return, while Phoenix only flinched and made himself slightly smaller. His doppelgänger might have reassured him countless times that his Lightlost had a kind spark, but Phoenix still didn’t believe him. So, he opted to make himself as small and as unthreatening as he could, while still looking fairly normal to this universe’s version of himself.

And while the black and red youngling didn’t notice the slight change in his doppelgängers posture, Lightlost did. But they didn’t comment on it. Not when the other youngling at the table looked like the slightest movement of the servo could send him bolting out of the bar.

“Phoenix, I thought Ultra Magnus told you not to seek out our newest guest after what happened yesterday. He needs his rest.” They said, which got them a small scoff from their Phoenix. “Yea, but locking him up in a hab-suit with only Rung visiting him isn’t fair either. I know what it’s like when you’re stuck in one place for way too long. It makes you start scratching your plating in boredom.”

“Or it makes you tear apart the hab-suit, because you feel way too angry… even though you shouldn’t feel angry, and then, when you distract yourself with singing, you can’t talk anymore, because you overused your voice box.” Chimed Phoenix in. “EXACTLY! And then you get told that it’s your own fault, because you could also just have shut your mouth and not sing and scream your spark out.” Continued the other one, which only added to Lightlost’s concern for not only their Phoenix, but also the one brought here by Brainstorm’s newest invention.

But before they could even say anything, the two younglings have already changed the topic back to the issue about their names. Talking a little bit about it in hushed tones, before looking up at the cartographer and explaining their issue. With this universe’s Phoenix doing most of the explaining, while Phoenix would say something then and there. And as they were done, both of them looked again at Lightlost, with the black and red youngling looking for advice, while the blue and white one’s body only seemed to tense even more under their gaze.

“So, yea. That’s our problem. We can’t really call him sg/Phoenix, but we also can’t call him White, because he doesn’t want to be called that.”

“And your Phoenix doesn’t want to be called Red either. Which I can understand.”

“Hmmm… Let me think for a moment, sweetsparks, I think I might come up with an idea.” Said Lightlost, after listening to the two younglings’ dilemma. And while the two captains and their second in command, together with Rung, Brainstorm and Perceptor decided that it would be best not to mention that their two new guests are from a different universe, they could also see the problem both Phoenix’s were trying to solve. Although, considering the fact that sg/Rodimus had already told them what has happened in their universe, Lightlost was quick to find a solution. And with a soft, warm smile, that seemed to somehow help sg/Phoenix relax a little bit, they told the two their answer. “Sweetspark, have you asked our guest if there was another name we could call him? I am sure that, with how his and his brothers' travels went, he surely was given a nickname, or something aching to one.”

And they could see the two younglings’ minds work, before sg/Phoenix let out a small chuckle. “Of course, why didn’t I think of that?” Asked the youngling no-one in particular, before answering. “Snow. You can also call me Snow, it’s the alias my Roddy came up with, when we were traveling on a planet. Granted, it’s not as great of a name, but I think it will work well enough.”

“Snow… huh?” Asked Phoenix as he looked at his doppelgänger, no, wait, as he looked at Snow, before grinning. “Yea. I think that will do. It’s nice to meet you Snow, I’m Phoenix and this is Lightlost. Welcome to the Lost Light!” Said the youngling, as he grabbed Snow’s servos and shook them.

Lightlost waited till Phoenix was done with his small ‘introduction’, before slightly bowing their head and giving their own small welcome. “Yes, welcome to the Lost Light, I hope you’ll like it here.” But differently to their young friend, they refrained from shaking the youngspark’s servos. They didn't want to cause him to be reminded of something their counterpart did to him.

And with the ‘introductions’ out of the way, Phoenix started up a new conversation about how live on the Lost Light was and the pranks he pulled, while Snow listened closely with, from amazement, wide optics. All the while Lightlost kept an optic, or two, on the pair of younglings.

#sentient lost light au #sentient sg/lost light au #sentient lost light #lightlost #reg/phoenix #sg/phoenix #spinoff #yea; it's just them getting to know each other

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erimeows · 3 years ago

Text

For You (NSFW)

Optimus Prime wasn’t good at confrontation; physical, verbal, emotional- none of it. So, as he stood with his digit hovering over your doorbell, he could feel his spark beating in his throat. His anxiety was killing him, and the part of him that was so anxious was tempted to just turn around and walk away.

He could save it for another night, couldn’t he? ...No, he couldn’t. He’d been telling himself another night, just one more night, next week, later for months now. It was time.

Now or never.

Three, two, one-

With a sharp inhale, Optimus rung your doorbell and wrung his servos together in front of him. He could feel his faceplates burning red with a heavy blush as he waited for you to open the door, but thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for too long.

The door slowly came open, revealing you behind it. You wore a (f/c) robe that was loosely tied, revealing part of the white teddy you wore underneath. It took everything in Optimus to tear his optics away from the beginnings of the chest that he so desperately wanted to bury his faceplates in, but when said optics landed on your face, graced with a sultry smirk and lustful (e/c) eyes, it didn’t help.

You grabbed his servo with one hand and pulled him far enough inside to shut the door behind him before pushing his back against it- and, of course, he let you. The second you went to lean up and kiss him, though, Optimus shook his head and pulled away.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“You say that every time,” You rebutted and rested your hands on his hips, gently massaging circles into the metal plating with your thumbs.

It was true, and he knew that. Every time after the first time you two had met up like this, he’d argued against it, but you always pulled him right back in with your charm.

“No, I mean it this time,” Optimus stopped you, a bit awkward as he placed a servo on your shoulder and backed himself further up against your door to put some distance between the two of you. He wasn’t ready to do this. He wanted to keep you forever, but it wasn’t fair to you. You deserved better and he needed to tell you the truth. “We need to talk.”

You seemed to know what was coming, so you pulled away and crossed your arms with a huff. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Honestly? The situation was uncomfortable. Optimus could see the candles lit in your house, smell the perfume of yours flooding into his olfactory sensors, and the lingerie under your robe... You’d assumed he was coming over to interface with you like usual, and as much as he wanted to, he used all of his willpower to resist the urge in favor of watching you storm over to the living room couch. You plopped down onto the corner seat in a dramatic fashion with your arms still crossed.

“At least come in and sit down here if you’re going to do this to me tonight, Optimus. I’d rather you not do it in my doorway.”

You knew, and he knew. Shaky in his movements, the Autobot locked your front door and walked over to your couch so he could sit next to you.

Your relationship had always been complicated, to say the least.

It started when him and his team had started battling the Decepticons on earth. With all of the news coverage they received, they were well-known amongst politicians, media outlets, law enforcement, and citizens in Detroit, and the Autobots had not only captured their interests, but yours as well. You were a scientist interested in doing studies on Cybertronian creatures to figure out what they were and how you could apply them and their technology to life on earth. There were plenty in the scientific community who were interested in them, of course, but you were the only one who had written a heartfelt letter about the matter, promising not to do anything too inhumane- the occasional metal sample, recharge studies, strength tests, and so on.

Then again... You’d included a picture of yourself in your first letter to the base, and that may or may not have been what captured Optimus’s attention initially. But then he met you and allowed you to conduct your experiments with Ratchet as your assistant on base, and not only were you gorgeous, but you were smart, creative, kind, easygoing, loving... You were everything Optimus Prime wished he was. So, even when the experiments stopped and you moved onto your next project, you still came around the base and Optimus still came around your house behind his teammates’ backs.

‘Why is she still here, Prime? Her study’s over.’

‘Yes, I know, Ratchet. She’s just... Helping me with some things.’

Ratchet commented on it the most, skeptical as always. Bumblebee always asked where he disappeared to in the middle of the night. Prowl was starting to get concerned by how tired Optimus seemed, and Bulkhead was the one who constantly snapped him out of his lovestruck dazes when he got caught up thinking about you.

The first time Optimus Prime made love to you was still a blur. He had developed feelings rather quickly, but it wasn’t until months of building up the courage to make a move that he’d finally done something; shown up to your house in the middle of the night and taken you into his arms the second you opened the door. It had escalated from there with you wrapping your arms back around him and pushing your lips against his, slamming the door shut behind the two of you and tumbling in a pile of warmth and metal onto your living room floor without any regard to how sore you’d be the next morning.

It had turned into a regular occurrence after that. Optimus showed up to your house, showered you in kisses and praise, and the two of you would interface, no matter how hard he tried to resist. And trust me, he tried to resist because he knew in his spark that it wasn’t right.

You’d shared your hopes and dreams and body with him, and he didn’t want to let all of that go, but how could he love what he didn’t deserve in the first place?

He was putting you in danger by being with you, anyway. Being with you was selfish, especially considering that neither of you had dared to say the ‘L’ word or put any sort of label on it. It was just the two of you spending an increasing amount of time together, talking, making love, falling in love when there was a good chance of it failing in the end. And both of you knew.

“It’s hard for me to come out and say this,” Optimus started. “But I love you, and I know you feel the same way.”

Your reaction was surprisingly restrained. No denying, no deflecting, nothing except for a small nod. You allowed your (e/c) eyes to fall shut and took a deep breath before speaking.

“I do.”

“It’s remained unspoken for far too long, but part of the reason I haven’t addressed it is because you deserve better,” Optimus reached over and set a servo on your thigh, offering a comforting squeeze, though that seemed to do nothing. You flinched, not even able to look at him for a moment. “I know it hurts, but you’re worth more than this... (y/n), darling-”

“No, you don’t get to tell me that after everything we’ve been through, Optimus,” You hissed, finally gathering the courage to look right at him, (e/c) burning into aquamarine. “Why do we do this to ourselves?”

“I don’t know,” He confessed with a half-hearted shrug. The simple answer was because the two of you loved each other and didn’t want to let go, but the complicated answer was... Well, complicated. “But what I do know is that I don’t want this for you.”

“Then what do you want?” You snapped.

Optimus understood. He had no right to dictate your life, your romantic interest, or anything else about you; you were a strong, intelligent woman with your own hopes and dreams, and unfortunately, he somehow fit into all of that for you. Still, he answered your question honestly.

“I want you to go live a normal life; meet a human, start a family or get married, stay single if you want, even. I don’t want you to get too attached to me and regret it when you start thinking about the little things later down the line... If you stay with me, you’ll always be in danger, we won’t be able to have sparklings of our own, and I could leave you here on earth or die any day now. Is that what you want, (y/n)? You can still leave me-”

“Are you stupid?” You asked, which made him blink.

The Prime hadn’t expected for you to be happy about this, but he hadn’t expected for you to outright insult him either, let alone call him stupid.

“What?”

“Do you think I would’ve done all of this with you without considering the consequences!?” You raised your voice and jerked away from him, holding a hand to cover your chest, offended. Optimus took the hint and pulled his servo away from your thigh to avoid angering you further.

He crossed his arms in frustration.

“You know what? Yeah, I do,” He answered. “Because you care about me too much to realize how big of a mistake this is going to be if we go through with it. Let’s say you’ve fully thought this through and don’t care about anything I’ve brought up- even if that’s the case, I’m not good enough for you, (y/n). I’m so large compared to you that I’m afraid I’ll hurt you one of these days, I’m selfish, I’m inconsiderate, I mess everything up at every turn, and Primus, I’m so unattractive-”

“Is that where all of this is coming from?” You asked, suddenly a lot more quiet, and Optimus winced at your tone. “I knew something was up, too; you’ve been keeping the lights off when we have sex and most of the time it feels like you can’t look at me anymore, but I... I thought I’d done something wrong, why couldn’t you have told me earlier that you were feeling like this?”

You were giving him the look; (e/c) eyes peering up at him, full of love and passion and so much more that was burning into his processor to make sure he wouldn’t ever forget it.

“Because I knew you were going to react like this- I knew you were going to look at me like that and tell me I’m wrong about myself, and it’s making it ten times harder to break it off with you, but what I said is final. Being with me is dangerous, you deserve to live a normal life, and I’m not good enough for you-”

Optimus’s self-deprecating rambling was cut off by you throwing yourself into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding on as tight as you possibly could. He uncrossed his own, unsure of what to do with them- he didn’t want to hug you back and give you the wrong idea, but he so desperately wanted to feel your warmth on his digits and palms.

“Shut up! Have you ever thought that facing our problems head on would be better than giving up everything we have?” You argued, pleaded, voice cracking as your tears fell onto his shoulders. “You think that being with me is selfish, but what’s really selfish is you not giving me a chance to make this work! You’re wrong, Optimus-”

“Leave me, (y/n),” Optimus reached forward and caressed your cheek with a servo. The amount of tears he found himself wiping away with his thumb made him frown- was this really for the best? Was he in the wrong here? No, this was exactly why he had to go through with it; whatever hurt came from this point on would be much, much worse if he allowed your relationship to continue. “I know you’re hurting right now, but you’ll thank me later. Cut your losses and leave. Go live a happy life, fall in love again- with a human- and focus on your work.”

“I can’t do it, I’m sorry,” You apologized, only making things worse. The fiery anger that you had expressed initially was fading into something much more melancholy as you hung onto him tighter and buried your face into his neck. “I love you too much. If you really mean everything you said, and you don’t want to be with me, push me away; I’ll leave, and we’ll never talk about it again... If that’s what you really want. Push me away, Optimus.”

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be, (y/n), I...” He stopped when he heard you sob into his shoulder, the sound muffled by his metal plating. Part of him knew that if he had to leave earth in the near future, the impact would be more severe on you than this, but he couldn’t see and hear you cry and push you away like you had asked him to. He couldn’t leave you, couldn’t let you go, no matter how much he hated himself for it. “Oh, to hell with it, I can’t do this anymore- So what if it’s selfish?” Before Optimus could stop himself, he found himself moving his servo from your tear-stained cheek to the back of your head, wounding his digits in your (h/l) (h/c) hair and dragging you into him for a heated kiss. You hummed and leaned into it without hesitation. Optimus sighed through his nose when he felt the tension leave both of your bodies, your hands resting on the side of his neck, his spare servo resting on the small of your back to support you and hold you close to him. Your much smaller lips molded into his the best they could, tasting of sugar and a human spice called cinnamon as you swiped your tongue across his bottom lip plate. His servo in your hair ran through the locks and wrapped them around his digits to yank at them- heat consumed his body to the point that his cooling fans were already turning on with the feeling of his spike pushing against the constraints of his interface plating. After what felt like forever yet not nearly long enough, you pulled away from Optimus and looked up at him, lips swollen from the intensity of your kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” You responded, a little rushed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” You choked out, sniffling and clearing up the remainder of your tears before shedding your robe and kissing his neck, cautious and soft yet needy and desperate. The white teddy contoured your body perfectly, hugging your plump ass and highlighting the shape of your breasts as your nipples perked up against the lacy fabric. Your sides were exposed by the slits cut into the outfit. Optimus found himself drawn to the exposed (s/c) skin instantly, so he rested his servos on your hips and took a deep breath in. You were so small compared to him, too; both of his servos covered the entirety of your waist, back, and stomach when he had them like that, and oh Primus, he could already imagine how you’d look splayed out underneath him with his spike buried in your core. He was sure that if he didn’t open his interface panel in the next few minutes, he was going to burst. “I need this, need you... Optimus.”

The next few minutes were wordless, with Optimus picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom. There were candles lit there, too, and while he was sure that was a fire hazard, he appreciated your attempt to set the atmosphere- even if it had been temporarily squandered by his earlier spiel. So, he shut and locked the door behind him and followed that with gently setting you on the edge of the bed.

When he kneeled on the floor in front of you, you blinked your (e/c) eyes, (s/c) cheeks lit aflame when he took your hand in one of his and pressed a kiss against your knuckles. And, as he looked up at you, he realized something; maybe he didn’t think he deserved you, but you deserved him if that’s what he wanted, and instead of shoving his own self-deprecating sentiments down your throat, he wanted to try to be more thankful that he had you, wanted to stop worrying about what was ahead and enjoy what he had in the moment.

“(y/n), I want to tell you everything tonight, I...” Optimus cleared his throat and continued to hold your hand as he leaned up and nuzzled your neck. “I’ve never loved anybot or anyone like I’ve loved you. I don’t think I could live without you; without the mornings I wake up with you and bury my face in your hair, without the feeling of your skin on mine, without seeing how the sunlight pours through the windows and onto your skin when the sun rises and how your lashes flutter against your cheekbones when you wake up-”

“Make love to me,” You cut him off, looking up at him, and oh, how he could see the utter love and adoration in your eyes. He wondered how such a small being was capable of holding so much love for him, but he didn’t dare question it, doing as you’d told him and reaching up to unlace the front of your teddy, the ribbon that kept the two halves of the front together coming untied underneath his nimble fingers within seconds. It fell off of the upper half of your body, revealing rounded shoulders and supple breasts, a soft tummy and feminine hips. You didn’t hesitate to lift yourself off of the bed just enough to pull the rest of the lingerie down your body and kick it across the room. Now, all of you was exposed from head to toe. This was the point at which Optimus would usually get on the bed and pick you up by your waist, pull you over so you could sit on his faceplates, but he was so emotional and pent up at this point that he knew he couldn’t wait that long to be inside you. “Hurry up, please? I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

The Autobot gave you a nod and stood up, so you laid down with your back on the bed and watched him open his interface panels. He couldn’t help but watch your face as he released his spike, already fully pressurized- because no matter how many times the two of you had done this, you always seemed to be taken aback by the sheer size of it, your cheeks glowing red and eyes blown wide with lust in a manner that flattered him.

You didn’t speak, only gulping and squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. Optimus Prime crawled over you on top of your mattress with his knees on either side of your hips to cage you underneath him. The slit of his spike was already wet with prefluid and lubricant, and he wanted to fuck you so bad, but he knew he had to wait until you were ready.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, before you’d probably even thought of him in such a way, he’d done his own research on human mating rituals to prepare himself for you; enough research to know that human women needed thorough foreplay and preparation to take a human’s spike, let alone a Cybertronian’s, which was usually larger. Due to that, he was always very careful with you, giving you plenty of time and prep before you ever had sex.

So, as he balanced himself on his knees and pinned your wrists above your head with one servo, he circled two of the digits on his free servo with his glossa to lubricate them and get them ready for you. You spread your shaky legs and moved your hips up, almost as if to tell him to get on with it. Your impatience was evident in the way your body moved, your breaths heavy and a pout of frustration taking over your face.

Unable to help himself, Optimus chuckled at the feeling of you trying to move your hands out of his grip to no avail. It was nice to know that despite what had happened earlier, nothing bad had happened to your usual dynamic- and the sound of you bashfully giggling in return made his spark swell with the love he had for you.

Having had enough with making you wait, the Prime prodded his pointer digit at your entrance and slowly pushed it in. He followed with his middle digit and waited for you to adjust, the both of you letting out a sigh. You were so different than any Cybertronian he’d ever done anything with; piping hot, wet, velvety, and sensitive, he couldn’t help how his spike throbbed at the feeling of you moving your hips to fuck yourself on his fingers as you hummed. With him holding your wrists, you couldn’t move your arms down, but you managed to grip one of the digits that was assisting in holding you down.

You’d adjusted quickly enough to his fingers, so Optimus began a steady rhythm of pulling them most of the way out before pushing them back in, over and over and over again, getting progressively faster with each push. You rewarded him with your sweet moans in return and tilted your head back with your mouth agape in the depths of your pleasure.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re like this,” Prime praised you without hesitation and dipped in until he was knuckle deep. That made you say his name especially loud, so he continued doing it, wanting to hear that sound again. “So gorgeous with your face red and eyes half-lidded. I love how you always squeeze one of my fingers during it because your hands are too tiny to fully hold mine; you’re so small I fear breaking you sometimes, but the fact that you still trust me when I’m big enough to crush you like this makes me feel so good.”

“I think your eyes are beautiful,” Surprisingly enough, you praised him back, looking him straight in the optics. “I love it when you look at me when we do it; the face you make is what sends me over the edge, and the noises you make in my ear drive me wild. The way you have so much physical power over me just makes it even more exciting than it already is. It’s like you could do whatever you want to me, any time you want, and I’d let you.”

Your words were rushed but confident, though as soon as you finished, you hid your face in the pillow your head was currently on to stifle a moan at a particularly rough crook of his fingers.

“Ah, you’re embarrassing me now,” The Autobot murmured, able to feel his normally cool-colored faceplates drowning in a heavy pink blush. You seemed ready enough and he was growing just as impatient as you had been earlier, so Optimus slowly withdrew and positioned himself between your legs with the head of his spike at your entrance. He bit his lower lip and rubbed his tip against your slick folds before teasing your clit, which made you emit a cracked moan. “You’re ready, yes?” You gave a hurried nod and moved to rest your cheek on the cold pillow. “I need to hear it, baby. Use your words.”

“I’m ready, please-” Optimus didn’t wait any longer after that, wanton and revved up, the Autobot sheathed his spike in you in one deep stroke and reveled in the debauched cry of yours that followed. Your pussy enveloped him completely, taut and scorching and slick, so much so that his hips stuttered with the willpower it took him to let you adjust instead of fucking you raw like an animal the way he wanted to.

“(y/n), my dearest love,” Optimus groaned and pulled back about half away, then pushed back in, only for your heat to pulse and twitch around him. You moved your hips up to meet his and grinded them in a circular motion in what must’ve been an attempt to urge him to get on with it. “Oh, Primus, if you know what’s good for you, you’re going to stop that. Tonight is not the night to test my patience, because you feel absolutely delectable right now and it’s taking everything in me not to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk or sit down without feeling my spike in you for weeks.”

“Yeah?” You taunted, voice breathy as you dared to test him by wiggling your hips even more and purposefully clenching down around him. The thread that was the last of his patience snapped at that, so he gripped your wrists even tighter in his servo and used the other to balance himself over you so he wouldn’t crush your body. You only continued your teasing.

“Yeah,” Optimus finally responded to you, his lips pulling into a tight smile to keep himself from making any noises that were too embarrassing. When he regained his composure, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “This is going to get a bit rougher than usual, so don’t say I didn’t try to warn you earlier. You earned this.”

With that, the red and blue bot withdrew until it was just his tip inside you, and then thrusted all the way back in- so hard and deep that he could feel the back of your inner walls. You cried out to him again, your legs trembling as you clenched them together around his hips. Optimus could only smirk- for as teasing and impatient as you’d been earlier, your cocky demeanor was certainly washing away with every rough thrust of his spike, replaced with desperation and heat.

“Optimus,” Your back arched off the bed as you were split open by his spike, but as much as you tried to move, all you could do was lay there and take it with your arms pinned by Optimus’s servo and your lower body trapped in place by his legs between yours and his spike deep inside of you. “Optimus!”

You looked at him, (e/c) eyes clouded over and rosy lips parted in heavy moans and pants that drove him wild. Just to see how you would look, Optimus pushed his hips into yours particularly hard, feeling his spike twitch at the sight of your eyes rolling back and your lips trembling at the sensation of your upcoming orgasm.

“Say my name, darling,” Optimus leaned forward and nipped at your shoulder as he adjusted his angle so he could slam the head of his blunt, thick spike into your sweet spot and pick up his pace. Your eyes went wide before you squeezed them shut again and yelled out at the sudden change, a sliver of drool falling from in between your lips. “I want to be all you remember for the rest of the night, so say all of it...!”

“Optimus,” You practically sobbed as the Autobot made love to you like there was no tomorrow in store. The sounds of his metal hips slamming against you and your broken moans echoed in the room and drove him closer and closer to the edge. He was already inside you, but he found that he still wanted to be closer, so he found himself making out with you yet again. “Optimus Prime,” His name fell from your tongue and onto his lips in between your passionate kisses with every thrust of his spike into your wet heat in a way that made him shudder. The arm that was holding him over you shook with the strength of his upcoming overload, the hand that was holding your wrists above your head on your pillows squeezing just tight enough to leave red marks on your skin in the shape of his large digits.

“That’s it, sweetspark, overload for me, won’t you? I can hear you’re getting close, so why don’t you be a good girl and finish for me? You look so beautiful like this, can’t wait to see you cum around my spike, princess,” Optimus egged you on as he felt your pussy flutter around his spike, quickly bringing him closer and closer to his own climax. Thrusting into your soft, small body was so addicting that he didn’t want it to end, but when you gave a broken moan of his name and tensed so hard that he was sure your fingers digging into his fingers left dents in the metal, he couldn’t help it. You came hard around him, squeezing down to keep his spike deep inside of you in a way that triggered his overload. Optimus Prime gave a soft groan when he finally finished, the electricity in his abdomen and spike exploding and making his entire body go numb as he spilled into you. “Fuck, (y/n)-” Optimus slammed his lips into yours one more time, filling you up with his transfluid and giving you a few more weak thrusts. You kissed back, albeit sloppily due to your current blissed out state. Your tongue lazily intermingled with his. The grip on his shoulders loosened, and you pulled away when you felt him depressurize so he could pull out, close his interace panel, and sit next to where you laid on the side of the bed.

When the afterglow faded and you laid down with your back facing him, Optimus usually laid next to you the best he could considering his size and wrapped an arm around you. However, as he remained sitting up, staring at your back and the (h/c) locks that were splayed out upon your pillow, he found tears of lubricant welling up in his eyes- it had never happened to him before, and though he knew Cybertronians were fully capable of it, crying was primarily an organic behavior. The warm light of the candles in your room bringing out the hues of your (s/c) skin and the scent of your shampoo and soap flooding into his olfactory sensors seemed to bring out all of the emotions at once; fear, relief, love, regret, guilt, and everything else that came with loving you. And, as much as he tried to conceal it, the way his voice cracked when he tried to clear his throat gave it away.

“Optimus? What’s wrong?” You asked, clearly panicked as you turned to face him.

“Nothing, I just-” Optimus stopped and took a deep breath. He didn’t want to cry in front of you, but he figured it was part of learning to be vulnerable, and he was done hiding himself from you. “I love you a lot.”

“I love you, too.”

“Don’t leave me,” Optimus pleaded, letting his guard down for the first time in a long time as he moved to sit on his knees on the floor. You sat on the edge of the bed with your feet planted on the floor, just close enough for him to be able to move between your legs and rest his head on one of your thighs. “Don’t ever leave me, (y/n). I’m so scared I’ll mess this up somehow. What if I hurt you? What if there comes a day that you can’t stand to look at me anymore?”

“You just have to trust yourself,” You murmured.

“I don’t yet,” The Prime admitted as he sat up again and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the middle of your chest. “But I’ll try to learn how to... For you, (y/n).”

“Do it for you, too, Optimus. You deserve to have a good relationship with yourself.”

You looked down at him, the smile on your face laced with your concern and exhaustion. You softly ran a hand over the top of his head in a clear attempt at comforting him. Though Optimus was hopeful for what was to come despite his earlier worries, he felt guilty that you had to deal with him like this; anxious and soft and unsure of himself.

The Autobot let out a gentle sigh and pressed a kiss against your collarbone. You smelled like vanilla, jasmine, and something uniquely you; all mixed with his own scent, evidence of the entanglement of your two bodies that would remain until you showered in the morning. Your arms still lingered around his neck as you stared down at him.

It was peaceful, and the second you leaned down to peck his forehead with your kiss-bruised lips, Optimus decided that he’d try his hardest to make it work; for you.

#tfa #transformers #transformers animated #optimus prime #tfa optimus prime #tfa optimus prime x reader #they didnt really cover too much of anything like this in tfa but #i feel like op has an inferiority complex #not necessarily ab his appearance but more his abilities #specifically his ability to keep those close to him safe #and he has a habit of trying to give up his own happiness and sacrificing himself instead of working through his problems #because he hates self reflection/evaluation #the end #fem reader #optimus x reader

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pleasantspark · 2 years ago

Text

on the edge of insanity by Brxkxn_Fxxth

Fandoms: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Other

Tags:

Rung (Transformers)/Rose (Self-Insert)

Rung (Transformers)

Rose (Self-Insert)

Takes Place Decacyles after 'long distance'

Last Installment in this mini-series

This Was a Thought Experiment

Rung and Rose tries a new kink

Call back to 'trust'

The twins are now teenagers

Transformers Spark Bonds

Spark Sexual Interfacing (Transformers)

Valve Plugs (Transformers)

Valves (Transformers)

Edgeplay

Edging

Rung and Rose ends up edging to the point of insanity

I am literally the queen of title puns

on the edge of insanity is the best title

change my mind

Kinktober 2022

Kinktober

Transformers Kinktober 2022

Brxkxn_Fxxth Kinktober 2022

Prompt: Edging

It all comes full circle in the end

if you catch small details from the previous fanfictions

comment down and i will give you a cookie

for being a true reader.

Summary

to commemorate rung and rose’s bonding ceremony the two immediately decided to interface, but the two find themselves trying out a new kink… and it only drives the both of them insane… kinktober day thirteen: edging

Series:

Part 12 of Kinktober 2022

Part 18 of Self Insert Stuff

Part 8 of Rose x Rung

Part 21 of Transformers

Part 16 of Transformers MTMTE

Part 5 of After The Lost Light

The two aren’t sparkbonded yet, but they were imprinted, imprinted bots have effects similar to a one that would be sparkbonded. Imprints were just a temporary thing until the two were ready to sparkbond.

Rung knew Rose needed time before they bonded, as Rose couldn’t bond without feeling some sort of connection with the bot she intended to bond with, and before then, she almost risked her spark to fester a manipulated bond with Getaway.

That Getaway.

It irritated him to no end, Rose was his responsibility back then. He was assigned to make sure she did nothing stupid. And well, he did try to the best of his extents, but he was guessing it wasn’t enough since she ignored him.

Rose did feel remorse when he scolded her, and he practically saw her deflate as she was being scolded. He felt bad, but she needed to know what she did was bad back then. Rose even after that point kept apologizing to Rung, there wasn’t anything he could say to try and at least quell her worries. But the best he could do was tell her everything would be alright.

Rung prepared the table like he did all those decacycles ago for that special occasion that ended up producing the twins and smiled. He couldn’t find the same flowers he did get that night, but he did handpicked a special rose for Rose.

He chuckled at that, he loved Rose very much and was willing to do anything he could within his power to make her happy. Rung blew the fire from the match and set the table with plates and all.

He checked his chronometer before realizing the food was indeed done. Rung rushed to get the cyber-turkey out of the oven. He cuts pieces out and places them on individual plates and places a scoop of mashed energon on the plate and places it on other sides of the table. Before deducing everything was perfect. He went to wait for Rose at the front door.

Rose had gone out earlier after Tailgate and Cyclonus requested her, they had got a new cyber-puppy and offered for Rose to come meet it. Rung had more than enough time to get this all together. After a few kiliks Rose arrived.

“Hi!” Rose cheerfully responded and walked up to Rung, she hugged him.

“Hello my Love, how was your day out?” Rung asked.

“It was wonderful! I was thinking about you the entire time though…” Rose admits cheekily. Rung chuckled and hugged Rose back.

“Of course, my love. I have dinner set up. I assume that you’re hungry?” Rung asked. Rose nodded, and so the two ended up going to the table where the dinner was cooled off. Rose ate while Rung smiled.

“Do you enjoy dinner, love?” Rung asked.

Rose responded nodding her helm, Rung didn’t really see himself as a cook by all means, but he was glad to have cook a meal that was enjoyable by Rose’s standards, that’s what he loved most about Rose, she always didn’t have anything to complain about, She always accepted the best in people.

#transformers idw #transformers #transformers mtmte #mtmte #idw mtmte #maccadam #mtmte rung #transformers rung #tf rung #rung #idw rung #kinktober #kinktober day thirteen #kinktober: edging #. 🎃 ; kinktober 2022 #. 💞 ; txt #. 💕 ; fanfiction.jpg

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transformerfan97 · 3 years ago

Text

I have no idea where this came from? But uhhhh...here have this fic I wrote today on my day off. Should I post a second chapter?

Anyway, sorry for any/all mistakes! Hope you all enjoy! Sorry I posted it on my phone so I couldn't add the "read more" thing!

This is the time that I've just made up for them. I know it's not 100% right but whatever. I got it from TFwiki at least:

Nano-klik: Seconds

Klik: Minutes

Groon: Hours

Cycle: Days

Breem: Weeks

Orn: Months

Vorn: 1 year

Joor: 5 years

Deca cycle: 10 years

Mega cycle: 50 years

Solar cycle: 100 years

Stellar cycle: 1,000 years

_________________________

"So when were you two gonna tell me about this?"

Prowl and Smokescreen looked up from their respective tables towards the door of the rec room. In it stood a very rare sight; a pissed off Bluestreak. His arms were crossed, doorwings held high in agitation, and face scowling. Two more very rare things followed this, Prowl bit his lip and looked to his elder brother and Smokescreen sighed then stood up to be the mature one.

The rec room went dead silent to watch the trio. Everyone knew the three were brother's, and fights weren't uncommon. However, when a fight broke out it was usually between Smokescreen and Prowl with Bluestreak coming between them. To see Bluestreak mad at one was rare. If he was, he'd usually ask to speak with said brother privately, and sometimes he'd ask the other to join. To see him this mad, and at both, enough to approach them in a public setting? Something big happened.

"Blue-"

"When was I supposed to find out? Next time we see him? Or when he's dropping off his new sparkling? Or when the bot is dropping off a sparkling to us? Or, or, in a few hundred or thousand solar cycles when we run into a bot that looks just like us?!" Bluestreak growled. "Because you know that's how it'll happen!"

"Bluestreak!" Smokescreen yelled, "he's on his way to visit, and the bot is comin' with him."

Bluestreak's optics went wide at this, "Wh-what-? How do you know?"

"Because he told me."

"Oh of course he did." Prowl growled.

Smokescreen rolled his optics and turned towards his middle brother. "He wanted it ta be a surprise for you two, and me. I didn' know the bot was comin' with until Jazz showed me the flight list."

Bluestreak glared and Prowl rolled his optics. Smokescreen just threw his hands in the air and huffed.

"Doesn't explain why you didn't tell me about the bot."

"Because we knew you'd react exactly like this Bluestreak." Prowl waved a servo towards him, "cause a public scene, bring our family's personal business into the light, and throw a temper tantrum." Prowl scoffed at his little brother.

Bluestreak's optic twitched and he snarled, "you wanna see a temper tantrum Prowl?" He aimed his shoulder canon at his elder brother and growled, "I'll give you a fragging temper tantrum!"

Prowl's optics went wide at this. Red Alert, First Aid and Perceptor quickly jumped up and away from the table.

"Bluestreak don't you-" before Prowl could finish Bluestreak fired a shot at his brother. Smokescreen grabbed the bot and pulled him out of the way before it could hit him. When Prowl looked back at his chair his optic twitched when he saw it sparking from the static shock his brother shot at him. He turned back to scream at said brother, but was punched in the mouth. Smokescreen grabbed Bluestreak's shoulders and pulled him back. Bluestreak struggled for a minute before he slammed his helm back against Smokescreen's chin. Smokescreen lost his balance and stumbled. Before he could catch his balance Bluestreak tackled him to the ground.

"You- punch- two- punch- never- punch- tell- punch- me- punch- ANYTHING!" Bluestreak screamed in Praxian as he repeatedly punched Smokescreen's face and chassis.

Prowl tackled his younger brother and held his arms down and pinned his legs with his knees. He glared at the struggling bot below him until Bluestreak finally stopped and laid flat to glare back.

"You realize I could, and should, throw you in the brig and take your SpecOps title away for this? For unprovokingly attacking a commanding officer? And not just any, the-"

"The second in command of the Autobots." Bluestreak mocked. "S'not like anybot actually likes you or wants you to lead if something happens to Optimus Prime! For frags sake, he made you his second because if he didn't you'd whine and probably never have come. Not like you know the first thing about leading anyway." A smirk crossed Bluestreak's face suddenly, "besides you only raised through Praxian ranks, to get where you are now, because you're so good at sucking spike and spreading your legs."

Prowl went stiff at that. There were a lot of rumors as to how he so quickly rose through the ranks. The most popular one being he slept his way to the top. He could, and did, ignore most of them, but that one he hated the most.

"You damn well know that isn't true." Prowl hissed.

"That's why you're so good at being in this position, right?" Bluestreak hissed back.

Prowl looked down and noticed what Bluestreak meant. Granted he was pinning his brother down so he couldn't move, it did look very sexual.

"And with your own brother? That's fragging gross Prowl. Have some self respect." Bluestreak mocked.

Prowl sat back on his knees and stared down at his brother with a blank look. He felt a servo on his shoulder and immediately recognized it as Smokescreen's. When he looked up at his older brother and saw the energon dripping from his nose and cracked optic he twitched. He inhaled to calm himself down and that's when he realized his own energon was dripping from his mouth. Raising a servo he felt it and when he pulled it away he was shocked at how much there was. Shrugging he looked down at Bluestreak and sighed. "Fraggit." Prowl pulled his arm back and punched Bluestreak right in the face three times. When he pulled back to deliver a fourth blow he was tackled to the floor. Looking up he wasn't all that shocked to see Jazz on top of him. What did shock him was when he felt the stasis cuffs put on him and himself being lifted and pushed out the door, followed by Smokescreen with Ironhide and Bluestreak with Red Alert.

OoO

"I...I don't know what to say." Optimus said sadly as he looked at the three bots in front of him. "This kind of thing is expected of Red Alert, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, but even they don't shoot and attack one another."

"There are two accounts of Sideswipe putting Red Alert in the medbay, three of Sunstreaker putting Red Alert there, three of Red Alert putting Sideswipe there, four of Red Alert putting Sunstreaker there, and over ten of them all ending up there together because of fights." Prowl said, a slight annoyance to his voice.

Red Alert went stiff at this. Prowl has access to a lot of information, especially as second in command, but even he shouldn't know medical information on bots. Unless it's critical of course.

"Rung and Ratchet have told the three of us if we can't talk it out then to sort out our issues physically. Multiple times. Not that that's your business." Red Alert replied dryly. "How you even know our medical information is beyond me, and a breach of security and Autobot privacy."

"I'm second in command. Nothing is a breach for me." Prowl mumbled, his back to Red Alert.

"I'm the head of security and security director. I know more than any bot what they should know and who should know what, and as second you do not have access to private medical records of other Autobots. Only Ratchet, Rung, First Aid, Swoop, Ambulon and Pharma have access. As well as Optimus Prime, only if he requires specific information for a valid reason. In fact a Conjunx can't access the other bots' medical records unless given permission."

Prowl huffed and kept his back to Red Alert. Optimus watched his second and security director for a moment before sighing and leaning against the front of his desk.

"Prowl, Red Alert is right. You have no right to that information. How did you acquire it?"

"This is really what we're focusing on? Not Bluestreak attacking Smokescreen and I? As well as making accusations against me?"

"What accusations?" Optimus asked, looking at Bluestreak.

Bluestreak sat up straight when Optimus addressed him, but glanced at his brother and glared, "I didn't accuse Prowl of anything."

"There were plenty of Autobots in the rec room Bluestreak. You can't lie your way out of this one." Prowl growled at his brother.

"Prowl, you an' Blue were speakin' Praxian. None of us had any idea what you were sayin'." Ironhide said, crossing his arms.

"We were what?" Prowl asked.

"Speakin'- bot are ya deaf?" Ironhide growled.

"Ironhide please." Optimus raised a servo and Ironhide rolled his optics. "Smokescreen can you please tell us what Bluestreak and Prowl were saying?"

Smokescreen stared at him for a moment then blinked, "ummm...Blue knocked me out. I came round and saw Prowl on top of him on his knees."

"So, no one understood what Prowl or Bluestreak were saying?" Optimus asked the other three.

"I sorta caught a lil ov it, but ah was tryin' ta help Smokescreen." Jazz rubbed the back of his helm.

"Can you tell us what you heard please Jazz?" Optimus asked.

"You speak Praxian?" Smokescreen, Prowl, and Bluestreak all asked.

Jazz smiled at the three, "jus' enough ta get by. Anyway, all ah really caught was Smokescreen and Prowl neva tellin' Bluestreak anythin'. Tha's when Bluestreak was hittin' Smokescreen. Then when Prowl jumped on Bluestreak ah rushed ta Smokescreen ta make sure he was okay, an' he was in stasis. All ah heard from there was Prowl threatenin' Bluestreak with strippin' his title, Bluestreak sayin' somethin' 'bout you an' Prowl and Prowl being second. Somethin' not being true an' tha' was it."

Optimus nodded at his third then looked at the three bots. He had a feeling he could fill in what Bluestreak had said to Prowl. He exvented and shook his helm. The three weren't known for fighting, not like Red Alert and the twins, but even those three kept their more violent fights away from prying optics. What could've possibly happened to set this off? Especially to have provoked Bluestreak, of all bots, to attack his elder brothers? Two bots he looked up to and respected so much.

"What brought this on?"

"Prowl accusing Bluestreak of throwing temper tantrums is what really started it." Red Alert said.

Prowl glared at Red Alert for that.

"No, I mean, Bluestreak, why did you attack your brothers to begin with? What did they do to hurt you so deeply you felt the need to do this instead of communicating with them, or perhaps coming to Ratchet, Rung, Wheeljack or myself?"

"These two didn't tell me something about our family. That I had every right to know!"

Smokescreen sighed and Prowl rolled his optics.

"If you don't mind my asking, and if need be Jazz, Ironhide, and Red Alert can leave and we can call Rung in here, what is it?"

Smokescreen looked at the ceiling, Prowl stared dead ahead and Bluestreak crossed his arms. Optimus looked up at the three bots and went to ask them to leave, but before he could, Bluestreak said something in Praxian. Prowl replied in a hiss and Smokescreen mumbled an annoyed comment back.

When Jazz suddenly broke out into a fit of laughter all the bots turned towards him. The three brothers with annoyed optics and the others with confused.

"Th-thats why you three did tha'?" Jazz tried to control his laughing, but he couldn't.

"Truly a professional Jazz." Prowl rolled his optics and turned back towards Optimus.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, but you'd do it too I bet...well...maybe not you...probably Bumblebee though…" Bluestreak mumbled.

"In hindsight, it's pretty fragging funny. I'm with Jazz." Smokescreen said, sitting back.

"So...what is it?" Optimus asked, immensely confused now.

"Our Sire has a new mate." The three said in unison.

#transformers #maccadam #prowl #bluestreak #smokescreen #jazz transformers #ironhide #optimus prime #red alert #i just mix up series so its not like set in g1 or idw or anything like that buuuut if i had to pick it's more g1 probably...with added stuff #stuff being characters and concepts and yeah #my fic

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writeyouin · 4 years ago

Text

Whirl X Reader – My Human - (COMMISSION)

Commission Request – IDW Whirl X Reader. A relationship that turns from Rocky to Love based off the Human Crewmate story. And some smut at the end please.

Word Count – 1884

A/N – Hey, @cyansadgirl I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for. Thank you so much for commissioning me. Happy holidays.

RATING – M

WARNINGS – NSFW/SMUT

You stood patiently outside Whirl’s hab-suite, playing a game on your communicator whilst ignoring the crashes and roars from inside. Ultra Magnus had just informed Whirl that you were to be his new roommate, and Whirl was not taking it well.

It had actually been Rung’s idea, and he had held a meeting with you, requesting that you be Whirl’s first room-mate aboard the Lost Light. You, as the only human, would benefit from the company, and Whirl in turn would hopefully learn to control his temper with someone so delicate living with him.

Nobody really knew if it was a good idea but you had agreed all the same and now all that was left to do was wait until Whirl had calmed down long enough for you to move in. Finally, Ultra Magnus stepped out, looking as grim as ever. He gave you a curt nod and left without another word, hoping that he wouldn’t have to come and correct Whirl’s behaviour again later.

Picking up your bag with the very few possessions you had, you headed into Whirl’s room, noticing that the area that you were supposed to inhabit had been thoroughly destroyed.

Whirl glared at you, “DON’T THINK YOU’RE STAYING HERE FLESH-BAG. ALL YOUR KIND ARE FRAGGERS.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” You sympathised. “I hope you’ll find that I’m not like that.”

You walked to your destroyed corner, fishing out a torn blanket and a pillow that had somehow survived.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET OUT OR I’LL THROW YOU OUT. YOU THINK YOU CAN STAND UP TO WHIRL? I’M THE TOUGHEST BOT ON THIS FLYING SCRAP-HEAP. I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Yes, I have no doubt to your strength,” You replied calmly, trying to hide your fear at his words; Rung wouldn’t have suggested this if he thought you would get hurt. “But I was thinking maybe you could give me a chance?”

Whirl narrowed his optic, glaring as you pulled the destroyed furniture towards the door, never once asking for help. He considered throwing you out, but Ultra Magnus had already given you the lock-code, so there would be little point unless he barricaded the door.

“Hah, good luck recharging,” Whirl spat spitefully. “I wrecked that stupid bed of yours.”

“I’ll manage fine with what I’ve got.”

Whirl wondered why you were even bothering. It was already clear that he was going to make your life hell but there you were, stubborn as ever. Well then, he would make a delightful little game of it; if he was going to torture you, he might as well enjoy it.

Whirl glowered on his side of the room. He shouldn’t have to be stuck with you, it was all Ring’s fault for even suggesting you move in with him, and those two dumb captains who were clearly too weak to say no to the eyebrowed freak.

No matter how much Whirl destroyed your stuff or how many insults he threw at you, nothing would get rid of you. You always reacted the same way, with a comment on how you hoped things would change and with that loathsome sympathetic smile that made his spark flutter; HE DIDN’T WANT YOUR SYMPATHY, DAMN IT!

Well, he could outlast you no problem, and he would make sure that he was victorious. Whirl looked for every opportunity to break you mentally, knowing that it would be far too easy to damage you physically; he told himself that there would be no challenge in that and that it wouldn’t do him any good anyway. How could he gloat if you were dead?

It was on a day when you were high up on a custom-made window seat that Whirl finally went too far. He’d had an extremely bad day with some arrogant fragger in “Visage’s” and worst of all, he’d had his aft handed to him in front of everybody. It was rare that Whirl was beat in combat, but he had been a little too overcharged to fight off that other mech, and then he had to return to his hab-suite with a bruised ego. Sure enough, you were there, gazing out at the stars and distant planets with a drink in hand; why did you always have to be there?

“Get the frag outta here,” Whirl slurred angrily.

“Whirl,” You gazed at him with sad eyes, “Did something happen? You look ups-”

You gasped as Whirl punched your window seat. He’d only meant to shake you up, or make you trip over. He’d never intended to hurt you, yet as you fell, you instinctively pushed out your hands to protect yourself and instead, your hand crushed your glass. You cried out in pain, glass embedded in your hand.

“Oh frag!” Whirl exclaimed, “WHAT DO I DO?”

He wanted to grab you and rush to med-bay, but he was afraid of hurting you further, so he called First-Aid to come to him instead. Whirl waited outside while you received stitches on your hand. He felt sick, and the common feeling of self-loathing began to consume him, as it usually did when he had regrets. Why was he such a piece of scrap? You hadn’t done anything to hurt him, not that you could. You were actually the nicest person he’d ever met. Why did he always have to destroy everything good in his life? It wasn’t your fault that you were roommates, it was Reng’s and yet there you were, paying the price. Whirl sat down on the floor, pulled his legs into his arms, and waited for the inevitable moment where you would move out and leave him alone once again.

Much to Whirl’s surprise, you didn’t hate him for the pain he’d caused you. In fact, your first concern was to ask him if he was okay. Whirl scoffed and told you not to be so stupid, but he lacked his usual bite. All he wanted to do was make things right, and since you had evidently decided to stay, he supposed he would get that chance.

His optic lingered on your bandaged hand as he made a gruff apology, unable to meet your eyes. Once you accepted his apology, Whirl felt a weight lift off his chassis. He knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he would do everything he could to make it up to you.

From that day on, Whirl made a constant effort to talk to you, even in public, though he acted much tougher when there were others around, only dropping his guard when you were alone. He answered your questions about his life, even when the truth hurt, and slowly but surely, he found himself lowering his defences.

Most of the time, Whirl found that he had come to enjoy your company. He taught you all he knew about making clocks, even though you were completely awful at it. Whirl was glad that he didn’t have a mouth you could see him smiling with; it was just too damn funny when you got your tiny hands stuck in the springs.

It was one night while you were asleep, and Whirl wide awake that he looked over at you, his spark racing. True, you were no Cybertronian but maybe that was a good thing. After all, look at the damage that Cybertronians had knowingly caused, not only against each-other, but towards other innocent planets too. You would never hurt anyone. You were far too kind to. You were sweet, patient, sympathetic, sensitive, and Whirl was in love with you.

His claw rested despondently against his helm. The simple fact of the matter was that Whirl wasn’t good enough for you. He had already hurt you once. What was to stop him from doing so again? Was it selfish to keep you in his life whilst harbouring such feelings? He didn’t believe so; however self-destructive it would be to him, it wouldn’t affect you, so long as he never told you how he felt.

So, Whirl suffered in silence, his spark aching for what he couldn’t have, until the fateful day that you confessed your own blossoming feelings to him.

Whirl couldn’t believe his audials. He stared at you in a stunned silence, struggling to find his voice.

“You… what?” He choked out.

“I love you,” You said calmly, saddened by the knowledge that he probably didn’t feel the same; interspecies love was usually one-sided.

“You- No. Uh-uh. That’s scrap,” he shook his head disbelievingly.

“I know… You don’t have to feel the same back. I just thought it was better to tell you, in case things changed between us. You… You don’t have to keep me as your roommate if you don’t want to. I’ll understand if-”

“NO! YOU DON’T GET IT. I’M WHIRL. I WAS A WRECKER. I WAS NEVER MADE TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP. IF YOU’VE EVER THOUGHT OF ME THAT WAY, THEN YOU’RE EVEN MORE DYSFUNCTIONAL THAN I AM. WHAT THE FRAG IS WRONG WITH YOU THAT YOU WOULD EVEN CONSIDER A MONSTER LIKE ME?”

Whirl abruptly ended his rant at the sight of tears in your eyes; once again, without even trying to, he had hurt you.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” You apologised, leaving Whirl feeling worse than ever when he felt that it should have been him saying sorry.

“I LIKE YOU TOO,” Whirl exploded, lacking eloquence as usual. “I’m no good at this stuff but… we could try talking about this, I guess.”

You cried out Whirl’s name, panting heavily as he thrust into you, working off months of pent up sexual frustration.

For once, Whirl was eerily quiet, his processor overloaded by how tiny, soft, and different you were. He had planned to be gentle with you but seeing you naked beneath him with your cheeks flushed and your head lolling proved to be too much for him. Every time you called out his name, he was reminded just how lucky he was; he couldn’t remember ever being loved, and yet here you were proving that he was worth your affections.

His spike pushed between the wetness of your legs, repeatedly hitting your G-Spot, edging you ever closer to your climax. Your every nerve seemed to tingle, alight with passion. All too soon, you felt yourself clamping around Whirl’s spike.

“Oh God- God- It’s- AH~” You keened as Whirl continued through your climax, completely aroused by your orgasm.

After four more orgasms on your behalf, Whirl finally felt the onset of his own.

“(Y/N), THIS- IS FOR YOU!” He cried out through the static in his vocaliser.

His overload finally hit, filling you up with his transfluid that dripped down your soaked pussy.

Once the two of you had come down from your highs, Whirl swaddled you in a blanket, hooking his arm around you and clutching you into his side.

“This is nice,” You yawned, snuggling into his heat.

“Yeah,” Whirl agreed, having never felt something so intimate. “It really is.”

With that, you both fell into a peaceful silence, safe in each other’s embrace. As you drifted off to sleep, Whirl wondered if he was right to have hopes of a successful relationship. He knew he would talk to Cyclonus about it as soon as he could, but that was a problem for later.

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harryspet · 5 years ago

Text

our soulmate | b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes, soulmates au, poly, threesome, sex toys, vaginal/oral sex, fingering, pregnancy, light bondage, angst, love triangle

A/N:This was inspired by an idea I got in an ask! I really wanted to write a poly story and the setting of the diner is what started this all. This isn’t really a dark fic like I usually write but hopefully, you all still enjoy it because there’s lots of smut.

In which Steve and Bucky both find their soulmate at a local diner.

word count: 3.3k

You had two regulars.

Steve came when you worked the morning shift. You seemed to always be refilling his coffee mug and he’d give you the same warm smile every time that you did. He worked on his computer for that hour and every time you asked him about his work he would tell you it was “top secret”.

He tipped very well and there were often times you did not want to accept the excessive amount. Steve insisted. You had told him how you were putting yourself through school. You had big dreams for yourself and the diner was supposed to be temporary.

Supposed to be.

You’d been feeling stuck for the past few months and by the night time shift rolled around, you were counting the seconds until you could go home.

Bucky noticed your mood as you were to close up by yourself on most nights. He’d order himself pie and then insist you take a break and eat it with him. You didn’t care much for sweets until your midnight desserts with Bucky.

You had no idea your worlds would collide that one night.

The thought of you had been on Steve’s mind all night. Every time he closed his eyes he saw you. There was no running from it now because he was sure his head might explode if he didn’t claim his mate right then.

In the middle of the night, he drove to that diner but he found you sitting beside his old friend, enjoying a piece of cake. You had just laughed at something Bucky said but your eyes widened as you saw Steve break through the locked door of the diner.

You stood up from the booth, “Steve, what’s going on?”

Steve’s eyes found you and relief spread through his body for a moment. Only a moment. He looked behind you to now see Bucky standing, “Buck?”

They knew each other?

You mentally cursed. How hadn’t you put the dots together? Bucky was the … Winter Soldier.

“Steve? What are you doing here?” The words were taken right out of your mouth. It seemed neither of them expected to see each other.

“For Y/N,” Steve started with little hesitation. His eyes narrowed at you and something in your heart twitched, “You’re supposed to be all the way across the country. Why are you here?”

You looked to Bucky as he spoke and you could tell something had shifted within him. As if he realized there was a storm coming, “I finished my mission a few weeks ago … now it seems I’m here for the same reason as you.”

“Wait, you’re both here for me?”

Were you in Twilight right now?

Steve took a step toward you, his eyes locked on Bucky’s, “I hate to disappoint you Buck, but Y/N is my mate,” Your heart stopped as the diner went dead silent. You looked at Steve with wide eyes, blinking.

This couldn’t be true. You didn’t feel a bond …

“Steve-”

“No, she’s my mate,” Bucky said, practically growling. They both took a confrontational step toward you but you raised a hand toward both of them.

You looked back and forth between them, “I don’t know what the hell is going on but … I-I can’t do whatever this is,” You could feel them tensing up, “I can’t have two soulmates. That’s impossible.”

“Apparently not,” Steve sighed, rubbing his temple.

“You could choose,” Bucky said quickly and you looked at him solemnly.

“Bucky,” Steve warned, “You can’t say that.”

“Fine, choose or don’t choose. I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

“We’ll respect whatever decision,” Steve emphasized.

Your mind was racing, “I need some air,” You were about to walk past Steve but his hands graze against yours. The electricity shot so fast up your arm that you thought it might go numb. You flinched away from his hand.

He wasn’t lying.

You looked back at Bucky who was thinking you were a second away from rejecting him. You walked over to him and he held out his non-metal arm. You grabbed his hand and felt those sparks. Like fire but warm and comforting.

Fate was truly a cruel mistress.

“Meeting today?”

Steve nodded, sipping at the coffee you’d just made for him. So many things have changed in the last month. You used to serve him his coffee at the diner but now you were sharing his kitchen. It was the day of the week where he was pretending to be completely happy and in the moment.

He gave you that warm smile but you could tell he was hurting. You walked around the counter to place a kiss on his cheek. He immediately pulled you into his lap so he could feel you for longer.

You pecked his lips, giggling as his beard tickled your skin.

You didn’t know you could love someone so fast. But with Steve everything felt natural and right. He spoke your love language and he was understanding. So understanding. After all, he gave up so much just so he could have you.

“A quick one?”

He set his coffee down on the kitchen table and you knew exactly what that meant. You kissed Steve again, this time it was messy and passionate. You maneuvered on the chair so that you were straddling his lap. He held your neck, his finger sliding into your hair, using it to hold you in place as he began to attack your neck with kisses.

You bit down on your lip to muffle the small whimpers threatening to leave your lips.

You were grinding against his lap and you could feel his growing member against your skin.

“Undo my belt,” He commanded you, letting go of your hair, and you were practically dripping at that point.

You reached down to undo his belt. You made sure to let one of the straps of your nightgown fall down, exposing one of your breasts. You moved slow, fumbling with the materials of the belt before it was open, “Take out my cock,” You mentally cursed.

You loved when he was demanding.

You started to undo the zipper on his slacks and his member was so hard that it was begging to get free. You hadn’t even touched him and he was already so read for you. You were gentle as you reached in to grab a hold of his member.

“Can I … please?” You begged and Steve nodded. You slid your panties to the side, positioning yourself to be impaled by him.

You were grinning and Steve had a wicked look on his face as you slowly slid onto him. He grabbed your waist as you moved up and down slowly, adjusting to him, “Fuck,” You accidentally let the curse word slip and you felt a slap on your bottom.

Steve held your waist tight, starting to force you up and down faster, “Like that. Just like that, baby girl.”

“Yes, yes,” You moaned, bouncing up and down, “Steve … ah, I love it when you’re inside me.”

And that was how you started your morning. When you finally shuddered and tightly squeezed him, milking out his orgasm, you realized you’d both be late today. You kissed Steve some more as you got out of his lap.

He hurriedly began to buckle his belt, “Did you pack?” Steve asked and you nodded.

You looked at the clock above the stovetop. You only had five minutes.

You kissed Steve again before hurrying up the stairs. You changed into some yoga pants and a comfortable t-shirt before grabbing the duffle bag that you had packed the night before.

The doorbell had already rung when you were hurrying back down the stairs and you heard Steve answer the door.

“You know, she never gets any work done when she’s with you,” Steve said to Bucky, his arms crossed as he stood in the doorway.

“I think you know why that is, Steve,” Bucky winked, only to get a rise out of Steve. Steve didn’t bite.

“I’m being serious. The classes she’s taking are important. You shouldn’t be going on random adventures every single night-”

“Steve,” You approached the door, your heart giddy at finally getting to see Bucky, “It’s okay, I’m a big girl. I’ll get my work done.”

You opened your arms to him and you embraced for the last time for the next week. Steve kissed your forehead, “See you next week, kid. I love you,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You kissed his cheek, “I love you too.”

Bucky awkwardly cleared his throat. Steve stepped aside and you ran to Bucky. He embraced you tightly, his face in the crook of your neck just taking in your scent. After a long hug, Bucky grabbed your bag, “Let’s get going, Honey has been whining ever since you left.”

You pouted, wishing you could’ve taken her back to Steve’s. You waved goodbye to Steve before walking to Bucky’s car.

You made it about two miles before Bucky had to pull over so you could make out without crashing.

Bucky was a little more … sadistic than Steve. You had both already come once but he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive bulb, unrelenting. You were handcuffed to the bed frame with absolutely no ability to run.

They dug into your skin so the more you struggled, the more they hurt, “Please, please,” You begged, “Please, Bucky!”

He muffled you with his lips, still keeping the vibe between your legs. You moaned against his lips as your third orgasm ripped through you. Your head tilted back, screaming in ecstasy, as Bucky watched closely.

He finally let up as you begged him to stop. Bucky kissed you again, his cold hand moving over your body.

“Had enough?” Bucky asked and you nodded quickly.

“Can you let me out?” You asked, shaking the metal against the bed frame, “Please?”

Bucky smirked, “I think my phone is ringing in the other room. Hold on.”

Your eyes widened as he got out of bed and headed to the door.

“James!”

His laughter roared through the apartment.

You felt sick the next morning so you stayed in bed with Bucky. Honey, Bucky’s two-year-old bulldog, was cuddled up between you guys as you watched something on TV.

You felt a little embarrassed being sick like this in front of him. Bucky rubbed your back as you laid your head in his lap. You’d never felt this kind of nausea, it frightened you, and you tried to hide it.

“Y/N, you’re incredibly tense,” Bucky noticed.

“I just don’t feel well,” You spoke, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” Your lips pressed into a thin line as you sat up.

As soon as your eyes met, you felt it. You covered your mouth as you felt the bile rushing up your throat.

In a second you were out of the bed and running to the restroom with Bucky hot on your trail. He held your hair back as you bent over the toilet and puked out your guts. Again, he was behind you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. You could sense his worry and also his confusion.

You didn’t think you had any bad food recently. It all just seemed so random.

Like a sixth sense had suddenly kicked in, Bucky knew what was happening, “Y/N, when was your last period?”

You flushed the toilet, trying to collect yourself. You shook your head in disbelief before leaving the toilet room and to go to the sink. Bucky followed after you as expected.

“Y/N?”

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you grabbed your toothbrush, “A few weeks ago, I don’t really remember.” You began brushing your teeth, just wanting the conversation to be over.

“I’m not trying to rush you-

You spit into the sink, “I’m just sick.” You stated, finishing your routine.

“Maybe to be sure we should go buy a test?”

You set down your toothbrush and braced your hands against the counter, “You don’t understand. I can’t get pregnant. That’ll just complicate everything!” You thought you might hyperventilate and that wasn’t making your nausea any better.

“It won’t, if it’s true then we’ll all figure something out,” Bucky came behind you, embracing you in a tight hug. You let your head rest against his chest.

“There’s always so much back and forth. You and Steven barely talk and when you do, you argue. If there’s a baby then … I don’t think this dynamic would work. It barely works for me. A baby’s mother shouldn’t be torn between two homes.”

Bucky thought for a long while and you were worried he might say something you didn't expect. And he did, but it surprised you in a good way, “We’ll all do it together, then. No back and forths. We settle down altogether-”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Bucky-” He only held you tighter.

“You love us both and we love you, why wouldn’t it work?”

“What if the baby isn’t biologically yours?” You saw him grin in the mirror.

“If Steve gets the first one then I call the next two,” You laughed at that, “Either way, we’ll all be a family.”

You told Bucky it wouldn’t be fair to take the test without Steve and each day, as you continued to miss your period, you knew Bucky’s suspicions could be true. A week later and a few more days of nausea, you were back home with Steve but Bucky hadn’t left this time. It was awkward at first, the initial greetings, but there was a lot less blood and fighting then you expected.

Steve even brought up an old memory you had no clue about and got Bucky to smile when he thought about it. Bucky rarely did that.

You finally came out of the downstairs bathroom, test in hand, and the two men immediately perked up from where they sat on the couch. They waited, the tension between all three of you even higher than when you first met.

You only nodded as you looked at them both, tears stinging your eyes.

Their eyes went wide at the same time.”This is amazing, Y/N,” Steve wrapped his arms around you first and then you hugged Bucky, “We’re going to have a little Steve.”

“Or a little Bucky.”

You could imagine the kind of terror a little Bucky would cause.

“Thank you guys,” You said, grabbing one of both of their hands.

“For knocking you up?” You nudge Bucky playfully.

You looked back from both of them and, as a thought crossed your mind, you bit down on your lip. You felt your cheeks heating up as you looked down, “I know what you’re thinking,” Bucky squeezed your hand, “Go ahead, you can kiss him first.”

You stared at Bucky with wide eyes before turning to Steve, “No, kiss him first. I insist.”

“No, I insist.”

They were just teasing you at this point so you rolled your eyes, turned a bit to Steve and he leaned down to kiss you. You expected a peck but Steve’s kiss was hungry as much as it was soft. As you finally pulled away to breathe, you saw a sinister look on Steve’s face, a look in his eyes you’d never seen.

“How about we see if you remember what I taught you all those years ago, Steve?” You gave Bucky a confused look but, you didn’t have time to react as he roughly pulled you into him.

“Bucky-” You gasped as he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and threw you over his shoulder.

“You’d be surprised to see how much I know, Buck.”

Bucky slapped your ass before he began moving towards the stairs, “Bucky! Put me down!”

You lifted your head to see Steve following, “Steve?”

“We’re going to be a big, happy family, right? Might as well get comfortable with each other,” You scowled, realizing the monster you had created. You could deal with them separately but, both of their tormentings, you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it.

You at least expected Steve to be the rational one and he was failing at that too.

Bucky carried you up the stairs with ease and you knew exactly where he was heading. You stopped struggling, knowing your fate was inevitable. All of you entered the master bedroom and Bucky let you fall onto the bed with a thump.

You landed with a bounce and you scowled at them as you blew a piece of hair that fell into your face, “Rethinking your idea, sweetheart?” Steve teased you and you were about to say something snarky back when he grabbed you by your ankle.

He pulled you towards the edge of the bed, grabbing the waistband of your leggings before you could even react. Both of their eyes were hungry and you started to feel heat between your legs. Something in your eyes changed then.

You wanted them. Both of them.

As your leggings fell to the ground, you sat up on your knees, before pointedly looking beside you at Bucky, “You, take your pants off,” You saw the smirk on Bucky’s face as you turned your head back to Steve in front of you, “And you, kiss me.”

Steve held your face in his hands as he kissed you hard. Your hands held his biceps and then moved down to the hem of his shirt. You needed all your clothes to be gone and soon. Steve got the hint and soon he was lowering his hands to lift up his shirt. You did the same and you cursed the moment that you had to pull away from him.

You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky positioned himself behind you, your back pressed against his front as you went back to kissing Steve. Bucky held your waist, his metal hand holding you in place and his other trailing between the fabric of your panties and your skin.

“Won’t be needing these,” You heard Bucky say as they easily ripped off.

His hand sunk between your legs as he felt the wetness between your folds. Bucky couldn’t help but think that they should’ve done this months ago.

You were undoing Steve’s belt now and grinding against Bucky’s fingers as Steve’s hard cock finally sprung free. You were ready to devour it and as you opened your mouth, Bucky suddenly pulled you back further onto the bed. Two of his fingers sunk into you and you gasped, “Keep going, doll,” You looked back at Bucky who only smacked your bottom, “We both know what you can do with that mouth of yours.”

You grabbed a hold of the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around his tip, “Magic,” Steve breathed out, brushing your hair out of your face. You knew he loved it when he could fully see your face, “That’s what she can do.”

Bucky’s fingers moved in and out of you so fast you were sure you might climax already. You moaned onto Steve’s member as you finally took it into your mouth.

Steve held your face, starting to force you down deeper, and you gagged. As you did, Bucky’s fingers seemed to move even faster. It wasn’t long before you were tightening around his fingers, “Cumming on my fingers with a cock in your mouth?” You could practically hear Bucky’s smirk.

“What a naughty little girl we have,” Steve grunted out, shoving his cock in and out of your mouth.

You felt Bucky at your entrance and you got no time to recover before he was sheathing himself inside of you.

As you adjusted to him, Bucky began to pound into you from behind as Steve took you from the front. You were overwhelmed in the best way possible. They knew your body and how to treat it in every single way.

Steve was so deep in your mouth when he finally finished that you were forced to swallow, “Good girl,” Steve praised you as he pulled from your mouth, Bucky grabbed one of your arms so he could pull you back further onto his cock. His warmth filled you as Steve placed soft kisses along your neck.

“That’s our good girl.”

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petitelepus · 4 years ago

Note

Yo, LL manages to save their liason from the SG universe, what's the (rescue +) aftermath like? I want to see some angst with the bots as their liason is completely broken and traumatized and quite possibly a little bit insane and won't trust anything anymore.

WARNING: ABUSE, STOCKHOLMS SYNDROME.

"How's it going Brainstorm, Perceptor?" Rodimus asked as the two scientists worked their afts off in an attempt to save you from their evil counterparts.

"Just about done captain!" Brainstorm said while inputting codes into the supercomputer they had prepared for the occasion. The bright orange mech nodded, before looking and scowling at your counter version who had been tied in the strictest straitjacket after their attempt to sabotage the rescue.

"You're all wasting your time!" They shouted before cackling like a fucking drunk hyena. "There is no doubt that Rodimus, my Rodimus threw your little liaison to others to play with. You'll be lucky if liaison will be even able to talk after what others have done to them!"

"Shut up!" Rodimus was having trouble keeping his anger in check. Your evil version had been living with them who knows how long and honestly, every mech and femme in Lost Light felt fooled by your evil side's fake facade that they used to trick the crew.

The only one who saw through them was Whirl and no one believed him because it was Whirl. It took a long conversation with Cyclonus who appeared to be the only one who believed the empurata survivor and together they had tricked your evil side to show their true dark colors.

"Alright, I think we are done!" Brainstorm finally exclaimed and he joined Rodimus and Perceptor at the base of their universal portal gun.

"Are you sure it works?"

"Absolutely. Two of the greatest scientist made it after all." Perceptor nodded and Brainstorm beamed at being called genius but the situation demanded everyone's full attention. Rodimus nodded as he called everyone to come where he was. It didn't take long for the rescue party to get there.

Whirl and Cyclonus had been among the first ones who wanted to save you, followed by Megatron as he felt it was his fault that you had ended into this whole mess. If you hadn't become his guardian then you would never have ended in such a mess back on Earth. Drift was there also since you had been abducted while he was watching after you. He had to come. Ultra Magnus wanted to come, but someone had to look after the spaceship and he was honestly best suited for it at the moment.

Taking in all the mechs ready rescue you, Rodimus picked up your evil twin and nodded to Brainstorm and Perceptor. "Start it up."

The two scientists entered coordinates and the huge machine rumbled as it collected electricity all around itself until it reached its peak and shot out a beam that tore the line between the two universes apart. The Autobots looked at each other and lead by Rodimus they entered one by one into the other evil universe.

"Find them quickly, the longer the portal is open the more it might twist our realms!" Perceptor shouted. Rodimus looked at Megatron and Cyclonus. "You two stay here and watch that no one comes or crosses the universe!"

The two former Decepticons nodded and took their spots around the tear, protecting it the best way they could. Rodimus glanced at Drift and Whirl. "We will stay together since we don't know what we are against here."

"I tell you! Murderers, manipulators, and assholes, but mainly murderers!" The other you yelled and Whirl squinted his only optic at the evil human. "If it was left to me, you would be dead fleshie!"

"Oooh, I'm so scared! Don't you think my Whirl hasn't tried that before?" Other you grinned wickedly. "I can't wait to see what he has done to my better half."

"You little-!"

"Calm yourself Whirl!" Drift placed a hand on the blue mech's shoulder. "We must work together now. Don't let them get under your armor. Don't give them the upper hand."

The flyer glared at other you, but nodded and pulled back as the three of them ventured into the other Lost Light. Everything looked the same except for some occasional dent on the wall or suspicious-looking splat of energon. They had no idea where you could have been.

"Hey?" Drift said your other self and they shot a glare at the swordmech. "What?"

"You can make this easier and tell us where our liaison could be."

Your other half grinned maliciously. "Oh, there are way too many places! They could be a wet splatter of blood on a firing range where Deadlock likes to shoot anything that moves and has a heartbeat."

"Rung could have taken a liking to them, but where there is Rung there is Whirl close by. If not, he might have taken doctor's privileges to practice some lobotomy perhaps?"

"The best thing to them maybe if Tailgate got his hands on them first. He likes humans, has had a TON of them as pets. You know when you see something so cute you wanna squeeze the life out of it? Petite things we humans are, aren't we?"

"Fragger is enjoying this!" Whirl shouted in fury, but then they all heard something. Clapping. The three Autobots quickly looked at the source of the noise and saw a dark blue mech at the end of the hall, clapping his hands together as he emerged from the darkness.

"My, I see that you got yourself a nasty case of a disobeying human there."

"Rung?"

"Eyebrows?"

"No one has called me that and made the same mistake twice." The other Rung smiled and looked at the other you.

"Liason." He smiled, "My how I have dreamed of seeing you tied like that."

"Psych," Your evil version nodded towards evil Rung, but they didn't stop there. "And psycho."

Suddenly another mech emerged from the darkness, this one red and-! Empurata survivor. Whirl's only optic widened as he took in his counterpart. The red mech glared back at his blue version and tension rose. Rodimus cleared his intake to get the bad guys' attention and he lifted other you for them to see.

"Listen, we just want our liaison back and you can have yours back." The orange Autobot said and the blue Rung tilted his head. "Really now? Give us a reason to switch."

"Well... This one is yours and you have ours?"

"Ah, you sound so juvenile captain Rodimus. Much like ours."

"Enough, where is our friend?" Drift stepped up and Rung smiled as he took a step aside and let red Whirld open his cockpit. The three good Autobots were shocked to see you there, sitting inside the evil mech's chest, unconscious but otherwise unharmed. There was a click and Whirl suddenly pulled his gun out before anyone could stop him and pointed them at the evil Rung and Whirl.

"Hand them over or I'll paint the walls with your energon!" The flyer shouted. Rung chuckled and gently picked your unconscious body from his partner's cockpit. "You wouldn't shoot us when we have your precious human on my arms?"

"Try me."

"Whirl, no!" Rodimus and Drift shouted and your evil twin laughed, "Yes, shoot them!"

The blue Autobot growled but in the end, he lowered his weapons. "Just... Give them back."

"Hah! You're just as stupid as you look!" The evil you laughed wickedly, "Like Hell these bastards would-!"

"You have a deal." Rung suddenly said and everyone froze as he picked you up. Your evil counterpart turned their wide gaze into their Rung. "What the fuck!? You're going to give up so easily!?"

The mechs ignored you as Rung approached the good Autobots and held you for them. "Take them. We want what's ours."

"You can't be serious!" Evil you shouted as they were handed to their own Rung. They glared at the psychiatrist and grinned viciously. "You will never break me...!"

The blue bot smiled maliciously right back at them. "Darling, you should know that I enjoy challenges." He glanced at your rescue party and smiled. "It was a pleasure working with you. Give my best regards to my counterpart. I'm sure he will enjoy his time with your liaison."

And just like that, the evil Autobots turned and took their leave, while your counterpart kept insults coming on everyone. Rodimus looked at you in his hands. You looked so weak and vulnerable, his spark ached. Whirl felt the same way, but he would never tell that.

"Roddy, we have to go now!" Drift pulled both bots out of their pity party and they all quickly returned to the portal, only to be surprised by the number of unconscious mechs lying around in Megatron's and Cyclonus' pedes.

"We got company so we took care of them," Megatron said and it was enough for them all. They all went through the portal back to your universe and as soon as they made it out, Perceptor shut the gap between your worlds. As soon as they were safe, Rodimus transformed and drove as fast as he could to the medbay where Ratchet was waiting for them.

"Please, heal them!" The captain cried and Ratchet took your body into his hands and laid you on the surgeon's table. He carefully took in your vitals and came to the conclusion that you were perfectly healthy. Some bumps and bruises, but no broken bones or serious like that. At least with your body.

"I don't see anything wrong with them. No matter what happened, they kept our human in good shape." Ratchet said and Rodimus sighed in relief. The sensation was short-lived as you started to come by. Rodimus was beaming happily as he watched your pretty eyes flutter open and take in the surroundings.

"Wh- where...?" You stuttered weakly as your eyes fluttered open and you looked around but when your eyes fell on Ratchet and you suddenly screamed bloody murder.

"I'm sorry Ratchet, I'm sorry!" You cried in horror and quickly twisted your body so you were kneeling before the medic and to everyone's horror you started to bang your forehead against the hard solid metal bed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I don't know what came to me! I didn't mean to offend you!"

"H- hey, stop!" Rodimus shouted grabbing you before you could do any damage but you had managed to cut your forehead as blood dripped down your face. The moment your eyes landed on Rodimus and registered what you were sawing it was like a switch was clicked in your head.

"R- Rodimus!" You cried out before you suddenly hiccupped and your body went limp before suddenly jolting up like you had gotten an electric shock. "P- please captain...! Let me go...!" You whimpered like you were afraid for your life. Speechless Rodimus glanced at the medic and Ratchet nodded, already comming to Rung to quickly come to medbay.

"I'm here!" The orange mech exclaimed as he stepped inside the medbay and your eyes locked together. Rung's optics widened behind his glasses and you smiled coyly at him.

"Rung...! My beloved, where were you hiding all this time? Why did you leave me alone?" You looked at Rung like he was your own personal universe and this sent alarm bells ringing in the mech's head. You were friends but you never talked like that to anyone. You attempted to jump to him but Rodimus quickly caught you before you could break anything.

"How long have they acted like this?" The psychiatrist asked and Rodimus placed you into Rung's hands. "It was like they were a completely different person!"

The orange mech blinked at you as you winked at him. "Will we have fun with Whirl again, master Rung?"

Rung swallowed hard as he looked at you and smiled lightly. "It's okay, I'll take you to our room and change a couple of words with captains." He said and just like the switch was turned in you, you suddenly turned fearfully of everyone surrounding you. "Pl- please no! R- Rung, no, please, don't leave me alone!"

The psychiatrist tried to give you to someone else even for a second but the moment he tried that, you turned defensive, kicking and sending everything else flying instead of letting them touch you.

Not seeing any better way out of their situations, you were locked into your old habsuite while Rodius, Megatron, and Ultra Magnus went to Rung's private meeting.

"You won't like what I have to tell you." The orange mech warned and Rodimus scowled. "So just tell us! That's wrong in them!?"

"Well, captain... The liaison was exposed to extreme situations that their mind simply couldn't handle on their own so they resorted to finding shelter from my and Whirl's alternative universe versions. By the way she reacted, I think she was manipulated to believe those two sought only their best interest, making them ignore all the red flags and learning to appeal to other Rung's and Whirl's liking."

"So...? They fell for your twins?" Rodimus asked.

"It's called Stockholm Syndrome back in Earth. It means that the victim developed feelings like loyalty, sympathy or even love towards their captor." Rung explained and Megatron groaned. "I'm familiar with those cases."

"You had someone fall for you?!" Rodimus gasped and the grey mech gave them a small nod. "Not for me per se, but some war prisoners would switch after learning the truth of the Decepticon cause."

"How do we treat them Rung?" Ultra Magnus asked, "You're the only one with so much knowledge of this."

"I'm afraid there isn't some miracle pill that could heal them." Rung shook his head and corrected his glasses. "Therapy sessions as much as I can offer and light medication incase they developed a depression or anxiety. I also must treat them for post-traumatic stress disorder that they probably suffered from other evil counterparts' treatment."

The captains and Magnus shared a look and they all nodded, agreeing with their decision. Megatron looked at Rung and nodded. "Do whatever you can Rung."

#transformers #mtmte #transformers mtmte #rodimus prime #megatron #rung #whirl #ultra magnus #cyclonus #drift #abuse #stockholm syndrome #anon #request #shattered glass

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carry-the-sky · 4 years ago

Text

you were a kindness when i was a stranger

summary

“Sleep on it,” Karen tells him. “If you’re still not feeling it by tomorrow, just shoot me a text and let me know.” She cracks a grin. “Don’t worry, there’s a pile of headline-making material sitting on my desk if this falls through.”

Curtis takes her advice and really thinks it over. Ultimately, it comes down to fear—his. And he refuses to let it drag him down. If he can’t practice what he’s preaching, he shouldn’t be running a group at all.

He texts her first thing in the morning: Hi Karen, it’s Curtis. I’m in.

chapter one | chapter two

Curtis got a concussion once as a kid—went headfirst over his bike’s handlebars after taking a corner too fast. Got his bell rung pretty good, even with a helmet. He remembers feeling more dazed than anything, like someone had stuffed his skull with packing peanuts.

Frank Castle showing up out of the blue for the first time in six months has a similar effect.

Frank Castle showing up out of the blue for the first time in months has a similar effect.

Curtis knows he should probably say something, but his head is empty, nothing but static. The words just aren’t there.

Frank pushes to his feet. He looks a hell of a lot calmer than Curtis feels, but then Curtis sees his trigger finger tap-tap-tapping away at his side, and he can’t help but feel a small pinch of satisfaction. Let the bastard sweat a bit—Curtis is the furthest thing from inclined to make this any easier on him.

“How’s it goin’?” Frank says, like they’re just casually catching up over lunch, and Curtis almost laughs aloud. This whole thing is surreal; Frank, here, in one piece. His voice even sounds normal again.

That’s not the only thing that’s different. Curtis can tell that Frank’s face is a little fuller, free of those purple-blue shadows that seem to permanently lurk under his eyes. He’s gone full Pete-beard again, and he’s traded in the black hoodie for a flannel and jeans. He looks—ordinary. If Curtis didn’t know him, he wouldn’t look twice if he passed Frank on the street.

Curtis breathes deep, lets it out nice and slow. “What the hell are you doing here, Frank?”

“Wanted to say hello,” the other man answers, hiking his shoulders slightly. “Figured you wouldn’t shoot me in a church.”

Curtis does laugh at that, clipped and hollow. “Wouldn’t be so sure about that, man. You’re definitely testing my resolve.”

“I know I’m a jackass showin’ up here, Curt—”

“Got that right,” Curtis mutters.

“Hey,” Frank says, voice going a little rough. “Five minutes, yeah? Give me five minutes, and if you wanna throw my ass out after that, you be my guest.”

Curtis shakes his head. “As much as I’d enjoy that, your timing is shit, Frank. I got a reporter from the Bulletin who’s gonna be here any second—”

Frank’s eyes sharpen. “Reporter?”

“Yeah, so if you don’t want your face plastered all over the front page, I suggest you get the hell out of here.”

“Who—”

“Hey, Curtis, sorry I’m a little late. Traffic was terrible—”

Curtis’ eyes snap up. Karen stands in the doorway, frozen as a statue. She’s staring straight at Frank.

Shit. She might recognize him. The beard and flannel are a flimsy smokescreen at best; Frank’s face has graced the front page of that paper of hers more than once. Curtis can almost feel the wheels spinning as his brain kicks into high gear, already working out how to get Frank out of this, how to explain away the fuckin’ Punisher standing here talking to him in the middle of the afternoon. Karen’s a good person, decent, but she’s also good at her job. There’s no way she turns a blind eye to this. He has to think of something—

“Frank,” she breathes.

Curtis’ thoughts grind to a halt.

Because—she clearly does know him, but not in the way Curtis was expecting. The way she says his name, soft with disbelief—

For the second time today, Curtis feels like he’s walked into a fever dream.

He glances at Frank, and the man’s got a busted up expression on his face, like one of those abstract paintings that looks like something and nothing all at once.

“Karen,” he says, voice grating over the word, and shit, he sounds more torn up than he looks. He makes a noise in the back of his throat, choke-off like the words are stuck there—then his jaw locks and his gaze ricochets to the ground, the wall, the ground again. Curtis can see his hands shaking from here.

Whatever the hell this is, it’s way above his pay grade. Curtis shakes his head again and starts unstacking chairs from where they hang against the wall. “You should leave before everyone gets here,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at Karen. She looks like she’s seen a ghost.

He knows the fuckin’ feeling.

“Hey,” Curtis says, and her head snaps in his direction. “We still good?”

Her gaze wobbles, darts to Frank and then back. “Yeah, of course. We’re good.” Slowly, she moves from the doorway, brushing past Frank like he’s not even there.

“Jesus christ,” Frank curses under his breath. He reaches for her. “Karen, this isn’t—”

But whatever he was going to say is lost as voices filter in from the hallway, growing steadily louder. Curtis swallows the bubble of hysterical laughter that’s rising in his throat. This day has already gone sideways; might as well let go and let God, as his pop always used to say.

No one notices Frank, at first. A couple people—Lydia included—greet Karen enthusiastically as they enter the room; the rest settle into the regular routine of milling about at the coffee table.

Rahul is the one who finally spots him. “Pete?” he gapes. “Shit, man, it’s good to see you! Where you been?”

That gets everyone’s attention. Within the span of a few seconds, Frank has about half a dozen people crowding around him, clapping him on the back and peppering him with questions about how he’s doing, what he’s been up to. Frank pastes on a shaky smile and gives the small talk a good effort, but his eyes keep skittering to where Karen’s arranging the chairs in a wide circle. Curtis can’t remember the last time he saw Frank look so uncomfortable; he’s wound tense as a coil, all potential energy with nowhere to go.

Curtis almost feels bad for him. Almost.

“You’re staying for group, right?” someone asks, and this time Frank locks eyes with Curtis.

Curtis shrugs as if to say your call. It’s not like he can throw him out in front of everyone. Beyond that—honestly, he’s relieved. Beneath the layers of hurt and anger is the one thing Curtis has shied away from acknowledging: his fear that maybe this time, Frank stayed dead.

Thankfully, the man seems to have nine lives. And right now, he looks like he’d like nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear.

Against his better judgment, Curtis throws him a bone.

“Pete just dropped by to say hello. You were on your way out, right?” he asks, fixing Frank with a look that he hopes conveys what he’s thinking: take the hint, man.

There’s a ripple of disappointment, but everyone seems to buy it. Frank threads his way over the Curtis, and his relief is almost palpable.

“Thanks, Curt,” he says.

“You’re running up a hell of a tab, Frank.” Curtis pinches the bridge of his nose, already regretting what he’s about to say. “You remember that bar over on 12th? After group—I’ll give you one hour. And you’re buying.”

Frank smirks. “Fair enough.”

His eyes flick across the room; Karen’s been carefully avoiding looking over here, but it’s like she can feel the weight of his gaze. Curtis sees it, the moment their eyes meet.

Frank’s face opens up like a book, eyes wide and bright. Curtis has never seen him look this vulnerable; even as long as they’ve been friends, he’s always kept the softest parts of himself tucked away. It makes Curtis feel like he’s intruding on something intimate.

Then someone’s saying Karen’s name, and the moment splinters. Frank ducks his head, already sliding the mask back on, and slips out the door.

Group passes uneventfully. The conversation picks up from where they left things last week, and aside from injecting a few questions here and there, Curtis is mostly an observer. If he’s being honest, he really enjoys the weeks he can just sit back and let the group carry itself. Makes him feel like it’s bigger than any one person, like it can go on without him being in the driver’s seat.

Karen is quiet through most of the meeting, definitely more reserved than last week. When the hour is up, she tells Curtis she’ll be in touch, thanks him again for having her, and then manages to duck out before anyone notices she’s gone.

Curtis knows it’s none of his business, but he can’t help wondering who she is to Frank. She’s more than an acquaintance, that much is for damn sure. And Frank clearly cares for her. Curtis lets his curiosity simmer, carrying him all the way from the church to Sal’s dive bar.

Frank’s already there when he arrives. True to his word, he’s ordered the first round; he raises his beer up in greeting as Curtis slides onto the bar stool next to him.

“Got you somethin’ a bit stronger,” Frank says, nodding at Curtis’ glass.

Curtis takes a swig and tastes jack and coke. He glances down at his watch. “You’re on the clock, Frank. One hour.”

Frank huffs out a laugh. “Shit, where do I start?”

“How about Karen?” Curtis says. “What was that back at the church?”

Even in the dim bar light, Frank’s eyes flint over. “Long story.”

“Give me the spark notes version.”

Frank taps his thumb against his beer, pointedly avoiding Curtis’ eyes. Then he pushes back in his seat slightly. “Alright, you win. You remember my trial? Karen was on my legal team. She was the one who started digging into what happened to Maria and the kids. All the shit that’s gone down since then—she got caught up in some of it.”

Curtis takes another drink, processing. “And let me guess, you”—he holds his fingers up as air quotes—“pushed her away to keep her safe.”

Frank tips his beer back, hiding a grin. “Guess I deserved that, huh?”

“You’re one predictable son of a bitch, Frank.” He glances sidelong at his friend. “You gonna apologize to her for whatever it is you did?”

The way Frank’s face falls is answer enough. Curtis knows that expression well; whatever happened between the two of them is eating him up inside.

“I’m tired, Curt,” he finally says, each word ragged. “I’m so goddamn tired. All the blood and bullshit—” Frank’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Woke up one morning just sick of all of it. Started thinking about the kids, about Maria—if they could see me, Curt—”

“Don’t do that to yourself, man,” Curtis cuts in. He knows how fiercely Frank loved his family; hearing him tear himself up wondering what they’d think of him now sits a little funny in his gut.

Frank meets his gaze head on. “I’m sorry, Curtis. I know that might not mean shit anymore, not coming from me, but there it is. All the shit I put you through—I never meant for it to go as far as it did. You gotta know that.”

It’s Curtis’ turn to laugh. “I don’t know that. Hell, sometimes—sometimes it seems like you like it when shit hits the fan. You like being backed into a corner, fighting your way out.”

“Yeah, you might be right about that. Still sorry I dragged you into it.”

They drink in silence for a few minutes. It’s a weeknight, so the bar is mostly quiet, just the low thrum of conversation and a thin crackle of music leaking from the radio behind the bar. Curtis can almost pretend that they’re just two friends catching up over a drink, talking about trivial shit like work and the weather and who’s going to the playoffs.

The thing is, Curtis isn’t quite ready to forgive Frank. It’s gonna take more than one night at Sal’s to mend the rift between them. But maybe Frank’s not looking for forgiveness; maybe what he needs tonight is a friend, a brother. Someone who loves him even when they’re pissed as hell at him.

Curtis thinks he can do that.

“So,” he says, eyeing Frank knowingly. “When’re you gonna call her?”

Frank flicks his eyes over, mouth pinching into a line. “Not too sure Karen wants to hear from me, especially after today.”

Curtis shakes his head. “Thought your wallowing asshole days were behind you, man. It’s time to gather your rosebuds.”

Frank snorts. “Quoting old English poetry at me now, huh?”

“You bet your ass. I live for all that carpe diem shit. You say you hung up the vest, right? You’re done with that? Then prove it. You got one life, Frank, so go live it.”

Frank dips his head to the floor. When he looks up again, his eyes are a little wet. “I’m scared, Curt.”

“Shit, Frank, that’s all anyone is. We’re all scared. The hardest thing to do in this world is live in it.” Curtis reaches over and clasps Frank’s shoulder. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”

Frank bobs his head, but Curtis can tell he still can’t quite see it. The man’s been punishing himself for so long; it’s all he thinks he deserves. Curtis has seen enough war and trauma to know that sometimes there’s no coming back from that ledge. Frank has to make that choice himself. He might not be ready yet, but he’s here in this bar instead of out on the streets, and that’s not nothing.

Frank blinks, then tilts his head to squint at Curt’s watch. “Hour’s almost up. Deal’s a deal, yeah?” He slaps a few bills down on the bar and starts to stand.

Curtis holds his almost-empty glass up. “I could go for one more round.”

“Yeah?” Frank asks, and the word cracks a bit.

Curtis feels something loosen up in his chest. “Yeah, man.”

Frank sits back down, and it feels like a step forward.

The article runs a few days later. Karen calls to give him a heads up, but the anticipation still jolts down his spine as he thumbs through the paper to find it. Curtis reads it through once, his throat going a little tight as he reads quotes from the vets about how group feels like a family, how it’s helped them find their way back to normal after coming home. Karen’s writing is the backbone of the whole thing, capturing the group’s essence without bleeding into the melodramatic.

He reads it again, then gives her a call.

“Anything interesting in the paper today?” she says when she answers.

Curtis huffs. “Funny.”

“What did you think?”

“I’m a little overwhelmed,” Curtis admits. “But mostly thrilled that it’s out there. These guys deserve it.”

“Agreed,” Karen says. “And so do you.”

Curtis doesn’t know what to say to that. Group always felt like something he needed to do, a way to reclaim his trauma instead of succumbing to it. He’s never needed or wanted any recognition for it.

“Thanks, Karen,” he finally manages. “And hey, if you ever need something to do on Thursdays, you know where to find us.”

“Even after last week?” She says it lightly enough, but even over the phone Curtis hears the slight strain in her voice. “I felt awful for leaving so quickly.”

“Hey, I get it. Bit of an exciting day.”

She laughs dryly. “You could say that.” A pause, and then— “Do you and Frank keep in touch, or—” she cuts off, and for a second Curtis wonders if the call dropped. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was completely unprofessional. Forget I said anything.”

Curtis knows he should leave it at that, but the tinge of resignation in her words is all too familiar. He remembers what he told Frank all those months ago, hoping this time it might sink in. Disappointed but unsurprised when it didn’t.

People are gonna care about you whether you want them to or not, Frank.

Karen’s one of the good ones. He knows that Frank knows it, too—and maybe that’s what pushes him to say something now, his better judgment be damned.

“Look, Karen, if I’m overstepping, you tell me to shove it, but—until last week, I hadn’t seen or heard from Frank in months. I know what it’s like to worry about the guy—hell, I wanted him to come back so I could kick his ass myself.”

That pulls a small laugh from the other end of the phone. “Get in line.”

“Yeah, so you get it,” Curtis says through a grin. “I love Frank like a brother, but the man drives me batshit more often than not.”

Karen sighs softly. “I want more for him, you know? More than—whatever the hell he thinks he’s doing out there.”

“I think, deep down, below all the bullshit—I think he wants that, too.”

Silence stretches over the line. “You’re a good friend,” Karen finally says. “It’s nice to know that Frank has one of those.”

“Hey, likewise,” Curtis replies, and he means it. He’s not sure he’ll ever forgive Frank if he lets this woman slip through his grasp.

“I’ll see you around?”

“Absolutely. I’m serious about group—don’t be a stranger.”

Curtis hangs up feeling lighter than he has in weeks. He’s still tempering his expectations for Frank—they’ve been down this road before—but maybe there’s a way out of the woods. Maybe they can both get back to the business of living.

He doesn’t put much stock in new-age bullshit like manifestation or destiny, but it does feel a little prophetic when Frank texts him later that afternoon: Nice article.

Yeah, I thought so, Curtis types back, followed up with a rose emoji just to see if Frank will take the bait.

He doesn’t have to wait long. His phone buzzes after a few seconds, and Curtis laughs when he reads Frank’s response, knowing the hit landed.

Shut up, Curt.

“—telling you, man, it’s a classic.”

“Yeah, maybe if you’re a middle-aged white lady.”

“Excuse me?” Lydia counters, spreading her arms. “Do I look middle-aged or white to you?”

Rahul just shrugs and leans back in his seat. The conversation tonight had started simply enough before quickly devolving into an argument about books, of all things. Lydia had offered up a few that resonate with her, one of them being Pride and Prejudice. Rahul had looked at her like she was an alien, and now here they are.

“If it helps, I’ve read it too,” Curt cuts in. “I’ll admit it’s a little dense at first, but it’s a classic for a reason. Ultimately, it’s about acceptance. Not judging someone before you’ve gotten a chance to know them. That’s something all of us in this room can relate to, right?”

There are some begrudging nods, but Rahul shakes his head. “Nah, man. No way some English lady who lived, like, a hundred years ago knows anything about my life.”

Lydia scowls, but Curtis holds up a hand. “That’s a valid opinion. But I bet if you gave it a chance, you’d be surprised.”

“You talking about Jane Austen again, Curt?”

Heads swivel toward the source of the sound, and Curtis looks up to see Frank walking through the door. He pulls a chair off the rack and slides between Rahul and Lydia. “Sorry I’m late. And uh, for the record—her novels are the good shit.”

“Not you too, man,” Rahul groans.

“Got me through one of my first tours,” Frank replies. He gestures at Curtis. “This guy wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about it, so I finally took the damn thing just to shut him up. Stayed up half the night reading it. Curtis knows his shit.”

Curtis feels himself smiling. “Good to have you back, Pete.”

It is. It really is.

Frank makes the rounds after group, catching up with all the vets he knew from before and even chatting with some of the newer members. Curtis catches Lydia fist-bumping him, and he almost shakes his head in disbelief. If someone had told him two weeks ago that Frank would be here, in this room, smiling and making small talk, he would’ve laughed right in their face.

“Hey, man,” Rahul says, walking up to him. His face goes a little sheepish. “So, uh, if you have that book on you—”

Curtis blinks. “You’re really gonna give it a shot?”

Rahul shrugs. “Yeah, I mean—you and Pete both think it’s, like, God’s gift to literature, or whatever, so how bad can it be?” He glances over his shoulder surreptitiously. “Just don’t tell Lydia, yeah?”

Curt claps him on the back. “Deal. I’ll bring it next week.”

Rahul nods, then jerks his head in the direction of the door. “Hey, did you see who’s here?”

Curtis frowns, peering over Rahul’s head in that direction—

Karen is standing beside Frank, her head thrown back in laughter at something that Lydia has said. She’s in her work clothes, but her hair looks a little glossier, and she’s definitely wearing lipstick. Curtis watches as Frank brings his hand to the small of her back in a gesture that’s effortless, like this isn’t the first time he’s done it.

Gather your rosebuds, Frank.

The bastard really did it. Curtis hadn’t realized how badly he wanted this for him—something to live for after the war was over. Now it’s happening right in front of him, unfolding in real time. It makes his chest ache a little.

Karen catches Curtis’ eye and gently peels herself away. “Long time no see,” she says, coming up to him. “I would’ve been here tonight, but Ellison’s got us working overtime on this city councilman thing.”

Curtis nods. He’s heard a few things through the grapevine—embezzlement in the councilman’s office, real original—and he wondered if Karen would be following it. “Back to making headlines?” he quips.

“Maybe just one more,” Karen laughs.

Curtis tips his head in Frank’s direction. “So, guess he finally pulled his head out of his ass.”

Karen follows his gaze. The look on her face is in direct contrast to the one Frank was wearing last week, love and hope and so much warmth. It’s all the answer Curtis needs.

“About damn time,” he says.

Karen’s mouth curves into a soft smile. “No argument there. Hey, we were going to grab dinner at that new Thai place on 7th—you’re welcome to come with, if you’re not busy.”

Curtis considers it for a second, but the last thing he wants to be for either of them is a third wheel. They deserve some time for themselves. He has all the time in the world to give Frank shit about this; he’ll let him have one night of peace.

“Let me take a raincheck,” he says. “Next week sometime?”

“Next week is perfect,” Karen replies. “See you then.”

The other vets are trickling out now, waving and calling out goodbyes over their shoulder. Karen makes her way back over to Frank, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. She leans in to say something in his ear, and he casts a glance back at Curtis.

Curtis bobs his head once, and Frank returns the gesture, mouth creasing into a smile; then he turns and follows Karen out the door.

Curtis watches him leave, thinking he’s never been more happy to do so.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastlechristmas #kastlechristmas2k20 #superrpowerlesshuman #my fic

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opes-magnas · 4 years ago

Text

『 as lonely as time can get. 』

It’s finally here!! I’m a terribly slow writer, and am really thankful to all those who waited for this! Hopefully you enjoy. Thank you so much to @hamjjy, @kaavijournals and Lady L for beta reading this, you guys are the best!

Listen to this playlist here for the best experience!

tw: cursing, body sensitivity, very subtle idea of anxiety and toxic relationships are portrayed.

~calypso <3

I. the moon can't shine on her own.

She looks serene tonight - high up in the night sky, not a single star to accompany her. Does the moon feel lonely like that? Does she ever need a warm hug? Perhaps she gets one from the sun, and he accompanies her all time. Does the sun shine for her? So that the world can see her beauty? Perhaps so. When she can't see him, she turns bloody red; she seems disturbed. Hurt. Lost. Her fury always frightened the humans. It made them shiver inside their homes, praying to see the familiar ball of light rise from the east to calm her down. Perhaps it is better if they could only see her beauty. But does that mean the sun shines, not to show her beauty, but to protect the humans from her true self? Perhaps so.

The sun and the moon are a pair. And they will continue to be.

As long as the moon can't shine on her own.

Let's stop thinking, Luna.

The moon seems lonely.

I look up at the clock. A red, metallic light tells me its 3:48 am, 3rd April. Great, now I can have four shots of espresso for breakfast. Thank you, oh great mind, for deciding that we needed to have that conversation earlier. I sit up on the bed and rub my eyes. The curtain flutters from the soft wind blowing in through the window. Cicadas fill up the silence as I look at the full moon illuminating my room another time. Oh, how I hate the moon. What a hypocrite. I look away, and my eyes find the pile of open textbooks and spark notes I abandoned. A small smile creeps up my face. At least I'll ace that History test tomorrow. I could imagine the Boba Tea reward from Leo in my hands already. Leo. The annoying kid next door who's been stuck with me since I was five. Don't worry, though. I don't like him. Not anymore. He made it extremely clear that I was 'a size too big' for him. Then why do I still hang out with him? Short answer - I beat him up, he apologized. I shall offer no elaboration. Still, a lump forms in my throat. And maybe because he wasn't completely wrong.

I get up to go grab a glass of water. Mochi is lying in her bed in the hallway. This is the first time she didn't stir awake when I thumped across the room. The poor fluffball of a cat is probably very tired from the bath I forced her into in the evening.

You need to lose a few pounds anyways, Luna. Get rid of those love handles. Maybe some fat on your back too. That'll make people find you more approachable.

It isn't toxic if it's true, right?

That night, I decide that my glass is half-empty rather than full, and go back to bed. Suddenly, Mochi wakes up and runs into my room. She snuggles in and throws her paws on my hair like it's her property. I choose to oblige the demon for today.

The last thing I see before sleep lures me is the clock gleaming '3:59 am'.

/////-----

It's too warm in my blanket. I almost want to peel my skin off. I need to get sleep, I have a test soo- I jolt awake. Mochi is no longer next to me. I assume she's back in the comfort of her bed, considering the temperature in the room. I let out a groan as my hand outstretches to the switchboard. After a few terrible attempts, I finally turn on the ceiling fan. As sleep threatens to take me again, I see that it's still dark out and the moon looks just as annoying as it did earlier, its ever luminant light breaking down the walls of my privacy. My eyes turn to the direction of the clock- 3:48 am, 3rd April. Huh, weird. I realize I must have had one of those five-minute, extra strength-giving, amazing nap- Wait why does the clock say it's 3:48 am?

I grab my phone. The sudden light blinds me for a second, and through squinted eyes I see 3:49 am on the screen. Huh, really weird. Wasn't I awake just now - err, earlier? Wait what? I realize I make no sense, maybe I just read the time wrong the first time. My brain is repeating the features of the Hammurabi Code, my drowsy eyes are drooping, and I meet slumber once more.

I barely feel Mochi slipping back into my blanket.

/////-----

I wake up in wonder why my alarm hasn't rung yet. The room is still dark, the moon stares at me curiously. Give me some privacy, moon. My eyes turn towards the clock for the third time this night- 3:46 am, 3rd April. Bullshit. I've been asleep for hours now; I won't need those four espresso shots for breakfast anymore. My tongue clicks involuntarily. Is this some sort of a stupid prank? Leo is definitely behind this, I'm going to hunt that dipshit down.

Come to your senses, Luna. The universe cannot prank you. That's impossible. And stupid.

I grab my phone again. An attempt in vain, I realize, when I see the screen displaying the same time. I text Leo.

| loser |

you (3:46 am, 03.04.2021): you awake? (read)

loser (3:48 am, 03.04.2021): no

A chill goes down my spine. Did the just relive 3:38 am? I decide to call Leo. Two rings in, I hear a familiar voice, 'I said I wasn't awake.' He sounds tired, voice raspy and strained. You'd think he'd just woken up from the but he's the sort of person who thinks sleep is for the weak. 'Yeah no shit, Sherlock. I'm speaking to your alter ego, Thomas.', I reply.

He decides to ignore my bad retaliation, and saves me from the embarrassment. 'Why is my star pupil awake at 3 in the morning? Has she forgotten about the test she will help me cheat tomorrow?', he asks. Ah, this freeloader. I'm gonna kick his ass. My hands move frantically in the air out of annoyance, 'I am not helping you with anything!', I scream-shout into the phone, afraid I'll wake Mochi up in the hallway. She's a bigger annoyance than Leo; no one in the universe has energy to deal with a grumpy Mochi.

'Honey, you love me.'

'You're being delusional.', I deadpan.

'Is my chubby baby irritated?', he says in a fake cooing voice. And that got me.

'Leo, I did not call you at 3 in the fucking morning for you to put me down.'

The other side of the line immediately goes silent. Silence that reminded me of the last time this happened. Silence between the two of us on a Boba Tea study session in the park after an argument, the only sound being the pages of my sociology textbook being turned, and of the sound of baby birds in a nest nearby. Though I know that Leo meant it as a term of endearment, I couldn't believe he wouldn't ever, well, consider me more than just a friend because of it. A few seconds (sometimes minutes) pass before -

'I'm sorry, Lunie, you know I don't mean it,'

Another apology.

I sigh. I'm tired of this conversation again. I'm tired of having to deal with the same problem again. I'm tired of people putting me down. I'm tired of blaming myself. I'm tired of trying to look pretty. I'm tired of Leo. I'm tired of me. I'm tired of another heartbreak. I know his apology is genuine. I know he doesn't mean it. I know he's just being the Leo he always is. But somehow his words still continue to haunt me. Maybe it's because it's coming from someone who means to me the most, coming from someone who brightens me up, like the sun does to the moon. Then why am I the only one taking it seriously? Why am I trying to fit into someone else's standards? Why am I so painfully aware of everything but still choosing to be blind?

Why am I not able to love myself even though I want to?

'Luna? You there?', his voice breaks me from my train of thought. Weirdly, he sounds quite scared. 'I didn't realize how much it bothers you, I swear I won-'

Mochi jumps onto the bed and snuggles into my head again, paws in a similar place in my hair. A weird sense of Deja vu washes over me again. And then-

『 pop! the world has reset.』

My eyes opened in fear as a gasp escapes my mouth. I'm sitting on my bed, trying to comprehend what just happened. The curtains flutter with the wind blowing by. The moon stares in curiosity. My phone's on the bedside table. The clock gleams with a bright '3:01 am' displayed on it. And the problem is that I wasn't dreaming, and I wasn't mistaking the time either.

I'm in a time loop.

II. a tub fills with water only to spill it.

I fucking hate whoever wrote Groundhog Day.

Like who decided that? Who decided to say 'Hey, let's make a movie based on time loops!'? 'Let's make a dude live the same day all over again till he gets it right! Let's make him really happy, then really sad!'

Son, I'm this close to pulling an Ides of March on you.

I seem to be looping every hour, more specifically from three in the morning to four. Five hours have passed by, but my clock tells me it's precisely 3:18 am. Great. My dearly detested friend, the moon, is my only companion in this war with time (sorry Mochi). In the five hours that should have gone by, I have accomplished the following:

Two and a half hours of sleep - though I wake up when the clock resets.

Half an hour of revision for that History test I need to write after I get out of this shit.

Thirty minutes of planning a workout, Fifteen minutes of Yoga.

Five minutes of trash talking the moon, Ten minutes of dealing with grumpy Mochi who woke up as I exercised.

Thirty minutes of wondering if Leo's looping with me, and

Half an hour of figuring out what went wrong, and how to make the night perfect.

I don't know how much longer I'll be able to remember anymore. I've tried everything - making notes, scribbling on the wall, writing on myself, engraving things on desk - but none of them seem to make it through when the loop resets. I'm too tired to talk to Leo, knowing very well that he would definitely not believe me. And partly because I'm afraid I'll lose my temper and get hurt again. I'm afraid I'll end up being the insecure bad guy, and he doesn't deserve that. He deserves someone better. Someone who's prettier, kinder and happier. Not telling him for the time being also meant that I'll never find out if he was looping with me. But that probably isn't the case, the universe is cruel for a reason. This is perhaps its punishment for me. I must go through this alone. No one's ever been by my side anyways.

I'm as lonely as the moon.

/////-----

Another few hours pass. The pop between every reset scares me lesser and lesser. But my desperation to return back to normal is growing. I've been trying to figure out what went wrong for the past hour in the neighbourhood park. The cold air perfectly paired up with the mint chocolate chip ice cream in my hands. Was it me staying awake this long? Should I have just gone to sleep? There must have been something I did wrong that hour. My heart wishes to call Leo and confide in him. And the more time goes by, the more my mind wishes to oblige to that crazy request.

I pull out my phone, which gleams a bright '3:58 am'. It's almost time for the reset. In two minutes, I'll be magically transported back to my bed. I sigh. I can't take living the same hour again. The hour grips my sanity like it is a play toy. I waste another countless moment wondering where I went wrong.

『 pop! the world has reset.』

Well, I guess there's no place like home. I wonder if Mochi was worried the previous hour when she didn't find me in the bed. Do cats feel worry for their owners? Does Mochi care for me? What kind of a disgusting ship is this? Cringe, cringe, cringe. Shut up, Luna. I bury my nonsensical idea of my cat showing me love for once in the deep pits of my mind, and pretend I never thought of such blasphemy. I shift under my blankets, and decide to sleep through this hour, foolishly hoping that the reset would never take place if I was never awake, though I woke up when the clock reset each time earlier. My eyes look at the clock - 3:05 am.

That's when doorbell suddenly rang. I launch up in surprise. This didn't happen before. My heart begins to pound extremely hard, my head hazed in confusion. I run towards the door as quickly as possible stirring Mochi awake in the process, and fling it open.

It's Leo. And he's in tears.

His eyes are filled with fear, breath unsteady. Beads of sweat line his neck as he tries to get words out. Leo grips my hands tightly, as though he wants me to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay. This hasn't happened in a very long time. He's gotten a much better hold on his anxiety in the past few years. I pull him into a hug and mutter words of comfort. His head is leaning on mine, and his breath slows. I tell him we'd be alright, and hum a calming tune. And we stay like that for the next five minutes.

'Luna,', Leo whispers into the night. 'Would you believe me if I told you something crazy?'

'Like what?'

'Like a war against the clock.'

And that's when I knew. Tears start brimming in my eyes as I give out a sigh of relief. 'Like a time loop?', I say as I hug Leo a little tighter. This time I needed one to remind me I wasn't alone. He seems to catch on as well, a sob escapes from him as he melts in. We stay in each other's arms, in each other's comfort - a place where walls were deaf to all the shared secrets, a sanctuary with no limits.

Oh, what I'd do to protect it.

Leo pulls away, his eyes disappear and his lips form into a sheepish grin. His face is puffy from all the crying, but it glows in the soft moonlight. My eyes widen in surprise as he grabs my hand and drags me out the door. I manage to see the clock on the kitchen counter gleaming with a bright '3:15 am.' before blood rushed to my face upon meeting the cold air.

'Where are we going? Are yo- ah it's fucking cold out here!', I complain.

'Ice Cream.' Classic hungry Leo. This boy is a demon.

iii. the twilight hour.

'What's wrong with you?!', I huff as I bend down to catch my breath and hide myself under a tree. Leo, on the other hand, is breathing quite easy, a stupid grin plastered on his face (oh, how I want to punch him). His hands hold up a bag with three tubs of mint chocolate Ice Cream like they're the greatest creation of God. 'Did you really have to steal Ice Cream?! Are you five?', I say as I recall the incident that just took place, how Leo basically ran out the convenience store with the sweet goodies without paying and left me, his dear, penniless (and only) friend as the bait to a potential flat-earther of a cashier (long story, don't ask).

And now we're here, the park I was in the previous hour. There's not a single soul around. The only companion being the moon once again. His smile shines through like the sun, however.

'I'm rweally sowwy, delulu,', he retorts.

'My name is Luna, and no one can ever be as delusional as you, you dill hole.', I say, my ears red.

'Good now, I shalt promoteth thee to 'Deluna'. Thee has't been felicitat'd.'

I click my lips in annoyance. I know quite well that when the clock resets, all the stolen Ice Cream would be back in the freezer. But I try my best to maintain a straight face to show my discontent. That's right Luna, assert your fucking dominance. I notice that his hazel eyes shining with the mischief I'm used to once again. He's back to the loud, obnoxious and teasing Leo he's always been. Leo who's carefree, Leo who's horribly reckless, Leo who finds happiness in uncertainty. My Leo. My lips slowly curl into a smile, and I give in. He's happy, and that makes me happy too. Leo suddenly pulls out his phone.

'Look here, Partner in time.', he says cheekily. I hear a click. My brows wring into discomfort and confusion.

'What? You look pretty in the moonlight.', he states without skipping a beat. There's a million tugs in my stomach, and blood rushes to my bronze skin. Butterflies soon turn into more sinister as I remember our conversation on the phone earlier. My face falls, if only this boy knew what he puts me through. First I'm not good enough, and now I'm pretty? Does he really throw around stuff like that without giving it a second thought? Does he not realize all that he's putting me through?

This is pointless. My feelings for him are pointless. The amount of time I waste on this is pointless. 'Our friendship is pointless.', I say. Regret follows immediately. Leo's face turns grim too; an unreadable expression plastered on his face. I suddenly remember something I jotted down my sociology textbook.

words left unspoken, my hearts screams, my head's in pain, we are in conflict.

Tears well up in my eyes again. This is a conflict, the most peaceful one at that. Terrifying. One that makes you curl into a ball and wish you never existed. One fueled by guilt, by insecurity, by ignorance. I remember the rest of the poem.

one of us was meant to get hurt, almost as though the heavens proclaimed it, on the day of creation. the celestial sky cried tears of gold, for it knew fate was cruel, but humans are crueler.

My hands are getting colder. My breath is hitching as my sobs get louder. Leo rushes towards me and tries to pull me into another hug. As much as I try to resist, he pulls me into his embrace. Fear devours my heart as I realize how I didn't feel at home anymore. I knew this sanctuary was going to break sooner or later. My heart is sick. It pains far too much as it beats in his embrace. Will it stop if I pull away? I try.

It does.

'Luna, what's wrong?!', Leo asks, truly afraid of what was happening.

'Us, Leo. Us.', I reply, voice barely a notch away from a whisper.

'What's wrong with us? We're Leo and Luna! You're the other half of thi-'

'Stop. Please.', I say firmly. My head feels too heavy, my heart too light. The moon shines down on me in its disgusting glory. I can't take it anymore. 'You're the reason I hate the moon, Leo. Because you are the sun. You only shine on me to mock me. To make me feel inferior.'

'What're you talking abou-'

My tongue clicks loudly. 'You're so hypocritical! You're an asshole who makes me feel like I'm the only one in the world, before throwing me out yourself. You make me feel insecure, Leo. I don't feel like I'm myself with you anymore.', I say, vitriol burning my throat. 'You disregard what I feel for you, because I'm the moon. You outcast me, because I'm the moon. You tie me down.

'You remind me of why I'll never shine on my own.'

I look at Leo. His hazel eyes turned dark, head down in shock. There's not a single drop of water in his eyes. He stands under the moonlight in silence. I can hear my heart palpitating.

'Why do you think the Sun shines, Luna?', he whispers. 'Is it to light the day, or to light the night?', he asks, a little louder this time. I open my mouth to answer.

'It's to light the night, Luna.', he interrupts. He knew I'd say neither. The sun shines for himself. He is selfish.

'The sun sheds it's light, because if it didn't, the moon would never-'

'That's exactly the prob-'

'get to see the world.' I stop midway in confusion. What is he saying?

'The sun shines because he wants the moon to see the world, Luna. He shines because if he didn't, the moon would be lonely. He makes sure to shed the perfect amount of light on her, so that she guides the traveler without scalding them, without making them blind.

'If he never shone, he'd have never have found his other half. The sun would have been just as lonely as the moon would have, Luna. The sun and moon are a pair, not because the moon can't shine on her own, but because they are lonely without each other.', Leo says.

And epiphany struck down like lightning. Leo needs me as much as I need him. He'd be just as lonely as I'd been without him. The moon's identity without the sun hadn't ever been her own. It was due to the sun's light she was herself. The sun made her the moon, and the moon made him the sun. They were inseparable, as destiny willed them to be, for they needed each other. For the sun to shine the brightest, and the moon to give comfort. But all that didn't answer why-

'Why did you say I wasn't enough for you?', I say, reminiscing that day in the park. I remember picking out a bouquet of purple lilacs after studying a book about plant symbolism in the library. I spent hours trying to make myself look pretty. I spent a lot of time trying to make up my mind. And everything came crashing down.

'Because you deserve more!', Leo says in defeat, fingers brushing into his hair. 'Do you know how much of a loser I am? You deserve a hunk-a-ilicous person, are you really going to settle for a noodle?!', Leo says, gesturing to his lean figure. As sarcastic as his response seemed, he meant every word of what he said. That's just how Leo is.

'Leo, that's exactly how I've been feeling this whole time.' I pull Leo into a hug.

Leo is no different than I've been my whole life. He's just as insecure and broken as I am, as I've always been. All my life, I'd seen him as a completely different person. We have different hobbies, we have different personalities. But we're still similar in ways that make us, well, us. It's just that our sanctuary needed to break to have it's walls built back stronger. I feel at home again.

'You're more of a sausage though. Alri-ALRIGHT lemme clear up, you're MY sausage okay? The best one in fact, I will use you in all my dishes.', Leo says as I pull out of his embrace and find a stone on the road to attack the disrespectful brat. Leo runs away and makes his way behind the usual Banyan tree at the edge of the park. 'That's literally the worst nickname ever!', I yell as I chase him.

'Mine own dearest sausage I begeth thee to reconsid'r!'

'TRY ME BITCH.'

'Hey, hey wait.', Leo holds down my hands and blocks my attack, and I'm left with no weapon except for the daggers in my eyes I choose to use against him. 'So, what are we now?', he asks.

'We're still Leo and Luna, dumb head.', I say after giving it a thought. Leo opens his mouth to refute, but soon decides against it. I assume he's content with the answer. We were friends, nothing could ever break that. Would we ever be something more? Who knows, maybe we would in the future when we love ourselves a little more, when we're comfortable with who we are, rather than who we're with.

Until then, we are Leo and Luna.

///////------

My eyes flutter open. I am leaning on the trunk of the Banyan tree next to Leo. I find myself in sleepy laughter as I look at his head lodged in between the roots of the tree. And suddenly, I see light in the distance. I immediately wake up from my position near the tree and walk to the edge of its canopy, heart beating in my stomach and look at the sky outside. The dark navy night melts into a light lilac, small streaks of tangerine bordering the the horizon. The birds are beginning to chirp in the trees, though the street lights are still on.

The time loop has stopped.

Meanwhile, Leo had stirred awake. He runs with his eyebrows up in surprise and squeezes the life out of me before his eyes turned dark in fear.

'WE HAVE SCHOOL.', he exclaims. I ignore him, and choose to stare into the sky. I look at the twilight hour. The sun and the moon were side by side, in harmony, like Leo told me. Tears escape my eyes in a sense of accomplishment. I could rest now. I give myself a small hug, and tell myself I'd worked hard. ('LUNA DO YOU REMEMBER THE HAMMURABI CODE.' 'That is not important right now!') The sun rises up, and salvages the few moments he has with the moon. I turn my head to the side and see that the moon looks serene, her light glow slowly fading as she decides to rest too.

But above all, I see that the moon is no longer lonely.

a/n: ahhhh yes if you’ve made it this far, i truly truly appreciate you for reading this, it means a lot to me. the past few days have been a little weird for me, and it took more than just motivation for me to get through writing this. again, thank you to all my beta readers, i really treasure all of you! i’d really love to get an ask about the short story, so if you enjoyed, make sure to send me one! i hope everyone’s staying safe! stay tuned with us because we have another surprise coming soon!

alatcg taglist: @blue-hairbrush, @kaavijournals, @artbyeloquent, @47crayons, @writing-is-a-martial-art

general writing taglist: @shinesundark, @the-writing-avocado, @raenawrites

@original-writing

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buckyswinterbaby · 4 years ago

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Always By My Side — Prologue

Synopsis: Young Bucky and Ziarah learn about the story of the fates and soulmates. Whether the tales are true or not is left to be seen.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!OFC Ziarah Heartwell

Warnings (will change with each chapter): none that come to mind for this chapter besides a referencing to God.

Word Count: 1,189

Acknowledgement: I’ve created this AU alongside my best friend Taylor in roleplays, along with many of the plots and scenes that will be featured. I’m posting this with his expressed permission as we both continue to work on the story in our chat. Credit for its creation goes to both of us.

Please like, comment, and reblog (I love that shit). Click here to fill out the form to be added to my tag list!

Note: This is is kind of a teaser/prologue to the series I’ll be posting the first chapter to soon called Always By My Side. It’s an AU my best friend Taylor and I have been building off of an imaginary friend prompt. I’m hoping this snippet will give you a bit of insight into the purpose of the soulmate bond in their world so you have some context going in. Hope you enjoy.

Addition: I said I’d tag you when I posted my WOC OFC story so here’s the first part, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer!

[Brooklyn - Late 1920’s]

Faded hues of yellows and oranges could still be seen through the thin panes of glass of the Barnes residence. The table had just been cleared from supper, the delicious aroma of Winnifred’s cooking still clung to the air.

Bucky and his sibling gathered on the floor in front of their mother, all freshly bathed and dressed for bed. The anticipation was clear in the younger ones’ faces as they prepared for their nightly story, though Bucky decided Rebecca’s shown the brightest. The woman couldn’t help but laugh as she settled into the wooden rocking chair that had soothed all of her children throughout the years.

“What story would you like to hear tonight, dears?” Winnifred’s smooth voice interrupted the youngest pair’s fit of giggles.

Charles, the second oldest after Bucky, was the first to answer. “Tell us the one about the coal miners again!” It was always his answer as he loved the voices his mother would use during her retellings.

Rebecca seemed less than sold on the idea as her freckled nose scrunched in distaste. “That one is silly! I want to hear about soulmates. Will you tell us that one, ma?” The glint in her eyes only seemed to grow as her mother hummed in agreement.

The rhythmic creaking of wood on wood could be heard as she began to rock, summoning the tales of lovers separated by miles being brought together with a bond that only true love could create, or so they said. Her blue eyes fell to Bucky’s, which mirrored her own, as she began to speak.

“They say the bond of soulmates is rare, God’s way of bringing together two people destined to meet and fall in love. The first stories were from long ago, before planes, cars, or even trains existed. When the corners of the earth were undiscovered and untouched by man. A time when mere miles could act as a barrier to keep others from ever meeting. The two individuals would see visions of one another, guiding them closer together over time. A mirrored reflection of their fated love.”

The children listened to her words with great interest as she continued her story, even Bucky’s attention seemed to turn her way. He had heard the stories a million times when he was younger. He’d lean in the doorway as she rocked a babe in her arms, telling them the tale that he had deemed himself too old to care about. Yet, as he found himself at the age where the pretty young dames around were of great interest, he also found himself considering the possibility. That there was someone out there in the world who was destined to love him in the truest way.

Bucky was sure it was a fairytale at its core, meant to spark a light of hope and possibility in the young eyes of youth. Even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more akin to fate at play.

[Brooklyn - 2004]

Ziarah leaned over the top railing of the bunk bed she shared with her older brother. The boy on the lower bed rolled her eyes at the continued antics of their nightly routine as this was the third time his sister had been brought to bed that night alone. The four year old grinned goofily as her mother, Hanna, adjusted the silk bonnet on her head.

“Lay back and tuck in, my little bumblebee,” the woman said fondly, climbing the first few rungs of the ladder to pull the blankets up to her daughter’s shoulders. Once she was satisfied, she climbed back down to sit on the stool she kept nearby for bedtime stories. “Which one shall we read tonight?”

Hanna couldn’t help but sigh as Zara popped straight up in her excitement, wiggling out from under her pile of blankets and stuffed animals as she made her way right back down the ladder and onto her mother’s lap. She knew any scoldings she would give would be fruitless so she settled for gathering the girl warmly in her arms.

Zara seemed to consider the question for a moment, emerald green eyes scanning the small bookshelf tucked only a foot or so away. Her gaze settled on a small book on the second shelf. As her mother selected it, Zara’s hands reached out to run over the watercolor themed cover. Shades of blues and pinks blended together to create the scene of a galaxy, two lover constellations drawn into the stars.

“Ahh, yes, the lovers. This was one of my favorites growin’ up as well,” Hanna mused, memories of her own childhood swimming to the surface of her eyes. She shifted her daughter in her arms slightly so she could open the cover more easily, clearing her throat before she began to speak. “Once upon a time there were two fates, old and wise women who spun the tales of all humans. They did not control the stories as much as they were scribes--”

“Momma, what’s a sk-shir-scribe?” Zara looked up at her mother for an answer, her head leaning back against the woman’s shoulder.

“It’s someone who copies things down to keep a record,” she answered, placing a kiss on Zara’s forehead before continuing. “Of life. Occasionally, the threads of time would become twisted and out of line so the women would step in to correct it. That is how the existence of the soulmate bond came to be. Some time ago it was believed to be caused by the distance that separated two people meant to be together, but now they believe it’s changed--”

“To what?” Zara’s eyebrows knitted together in a line as her cheeks puffed out at her impatience.

Hanna couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatics. “I don’t know, love. Though, perhaps if you let me read more than one page without interruption, we’d know by now.” While the color was barely visible, the girl’s cheeks heated up as she bared her baby teeth, one of her less subtle ways of defiance. Even so, Zara nodded for her to continue.

“They believe it’s changed to times when one or both halves won’t survive without the other. The fates trigger the bond to preserve life and sanity, to provide support to both halves when they need it the most. The occurrence is more rare than ever now, as it relies on both sides truly needing it,” She went on to finish the rest of the story as Zara’s eyelids seemed to grow heavy. She was ever so careful as she stood to carry the girl back to her bed, tucking her in for what she prayed would be the final time that night.

Zara let out a large yawn as she pulled her stuffed bunny, Frankie, to her chest. “Momma,” she called out through another yawn, blinking over at her lazily. “Do you think that I have a soulmate?”

She was asleep before Hanna could even answer, but even so she gently brushed her thumb over the girl’s soft cheek. “I hope that you never need to find out if you do or not.”

#marvel #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #marvel fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #black ofc #Ziarah Heartwell #always by my side #always by my side series #abms series #ABMS #Bucky Barnes x woc #Bucky Barnes x black!ofc #soulmates #soulmate AU #bucky barnes soulmate au

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years ago

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Remoras Full Chapter XLII: Refraction

There were more things I could have said, could have told the others as they ran, but that wouldn’t have done any of us any good. We had our paths to take, roles to play, and mine was to take down this enemy before me, the very same enemy that shared my own face.

“It’s just you and me now,” I let the venomous words pour out of my mouth. While I sounded bored, I was anything but; I was mentos and cola. I was downright itching for a fight. That slasher smile crept its way onto my lips and all I needed was the signal.

“Good,” ‘she’ too shared that same smile. Disgusting. I wanted to tear that smile clean off. No, forget clean. I wanted to make ‘her’ face a bloody mess.

“Who are you really?” I demanded while readying my rifle.

My foe, too, prepared and I watched their arms unfold like tapestry and shift into several small snake-like limbs with sharp, jagged tips.

“I said already: I’m Rhea Flection,” their smile spread. I could tell whoever it was behind that little monstrous form, they were taking delight in this.

“Bullshit.”

They lifted up their shirt (which may have been attached to them now as whenever they regenerated, the clothing did as well. Maybe it was a modesty thing, I wasn’t sure. Not like I minded either way, and besides, I’ve seen myself naked once or twice. It was just a body. Okay, maybe a dead body, but still) to reveal a large gash across their stomach, like fissures in the ground near a volcano. Just a deep slash; a horizontal line of dried, darkened blood from one end to the other.

All that confirms is that you took control of a fucking corpse. Big whoop.

After a few more seconds, they lowered the end of what I assumed was the shirt that once belonged to the other me and stared right at me as the sickening smile continued to display on that face.

“So you see, it is I: the original, reborn. As such, I’m sure you’re aware of the little rule about the universe, aren’t you?” They paced about, expression unchanged as they shifted behind one of the large kegs in the back.

“Yes. I’m aware,” I replied, my voice shallow. It was useless to pace as well. I closed my eyes and waited.

The same person from two timelines can’t exist in the same timeline. If one happened to cross over, the other would die, I recited that little thought. That rule which I was never even sure when it became defined, yet had rung true throughout history. Luckily, I don’t have to worry about that.

Those vine-like sharp appendages shot forth and I leaned back while opening one eye as I watched them pass me by just a hair’s breadth. In that same instance, I took my rifle in my other hand, then fired at my double, who happened to be situated between two large kegs. As I fired, they shifted again and in tandem, I shivered.

“Argh,” I ground my teeth. Out of all the times it had to happen.

This is what I get for choosing to live.

As the burst from the shell missed my target and hit the wall right behind them, they began to cackle a laugh that wasn’t very characteristic for the body they were inhabiting.

“You need to be more careful,” they sneered as they ran long, clawed nails against the wood of the keg’s exterior. It produced a sound like rubbing a coin against sandpaper. It was grating and made me shake my head and clench my teeth in frustration. “What if one of these kegs burst? And alcohol spilled out? Then, what if you fired your gun and it missed, and instead exploded –”

I adjusted my aim and fired right at the top of their arm, just under the shoulder. Sure enough, there was an explosion, but no puncture to the keg. What a relief.

They winced and heaved out breath after breath while I watched as what made up their arm wriggled as several tiny pieces. Like watching many worms or maggots. Whatever they were, tissue or something else, it was inhuman. Soon, they expanded and connected back to the arm in question and that smile smeared back onto her face with a very heinous scowl to accompany it. That was the last glimpse I caught before they dashed back behind the keg they stood behind.

I shook my head. How tiresome.

Little taps against the floor trickled into my ears and it wasn’t long before I saw their figure once more pass from the back and near the entrance to the tunnels, but stopped right at the end and shot forth both arms. Along the way toward me, they split into many more limbs, each with sharp tips. They spread out, making it so it wouldn’t be possible to avoid them all. On both sides, I was surrounded.

Time to get reckless.

I took a step back, then fired both of my pistols at the masses meant to surround me, the resulting blast caused a chain reaction which resulted in each of the little masses of limbs crumbling down and withering into bits of ash. At the same time, I ran in, knowing I had a short window of time as it didn’t take those things long to regenerate. As I darted toward the host in question, the multitude of limbs regrew and tried to close in around me as if they two tidal waves and I were in the middle of the ocean.

When I drew closer and the wave of wriggling limbs collapsed in on themselves, my impostor retracted their many vine-like limbs and returned to having long, clawed hands. They swiped to the side, but I ducked and fired the pistol their way, blasting a hole right in the center of their chest.

That time, no change in reaction. Worse, they stood in place and the gap in the center refilled itself.

“Are you sure you wanted to do that?” Came that sinister sneer and before I could react, they grabbed my arm, then lifted one leg up and kicked me so hard that I fell back onto the cold, hard floor.

Who knew they could kick so hard? I thought as I winced and jumped back up to my feet.

“These boots are mine,” they claimed, as if in response to my little thought. “I may be able to transform myself now, but I can assure you, it is I.”

Note to self: it’s not a good idea to get close to them. Too risky.

I darted away, off toward the giant keg barrel next to the entrance. It should have provided cover, but they sprinted forward and I jumped back just in time to line with their strike, then fired off one of my pistols. That time, a miss, as they ducked to avoid it, then opened their mouth and many needle-like appendages shot forth and tore through the thick sailor uniform I had donned and punctured the flesh of my arms. I hissed out and spat as I felt each cut, and then they went for my face, and I batted them away, but the little thorns and spikes cut through my hands as well.

Despite each little sting, I couldn’t be bothered to stop and react. I took off once more and the laughs of my enemy turned to a slow, deep taunt.

“Look at you: you were so confident back there, and now you’re running from me,” they bellowed. Whoever was behind that form must have relished in the fact that they were using the corpse which belonged to my other self. Like a little taunt in of itself.

You probably think it disturbs me to have to fight something that shares my own face, but I’m feeling quite the opposite: I’m excited.

“Let me ask you this: how did you manage to get down here without the others noticing? I know for a fact that you weren’t down here this whole time,” they inquired as their voice echoed and grew in intensity to match the sound of their ever closer footsteps.

“I was in vent,” I replied, not caring that they were an enemy. At that point, it didn’t really matter what I told them, as I would bring them down either way. Soon they would draw near, and in anticipation, I reattached the two guns so they were once again a heavy rifle in my arms.

Even if I go down along with them, I won’t draw my last breath until they’ve drawn theirs.

“Of course. I should have taken that into account. An oversight on my part,” they acknowledged, then lunged beside where I stood and those same claws reached out at me.

Running toward does me no good. Neither does running away.

I blocked those claws with my rifle, then it was my turn to kick them away as in one swift motion I raised a leg and thrust it into their side. They were knocked back and taking such an opportunity to my advantage, I pointed my rifle and pulled the trigger, its blast pushed me back as well. My eyes managed to lock on to my enemy who was struck and their head was obliterated, the place where their neck had been burnt as the sparks reached down to claim their torso.

I shook my head. As much as I wished it were that easy, I knew it wasn’t yet over.

Before I could react, hope to finish things sooner rather than later, those same worm-like appendages swung around from the stump that once made up their head, and soon more accompanied them. I reached into the sailor outfit, hoping to use my secret weapon, but I knew it wouldn’t have done me any good. Not yet.

Yet I didn’t want to give them any satisfaction, either. I shot forth once more, this time in the chest. Just as the head was beginning to reform, as well, but it became useless; their entire upper-half was gone, incinerated.

Their legs became the only thing that was left of them and I lowered my aim, but before I could, two long appendages emerged from the top and I saw mouths at the end of them, open wide and hungry, having taken on a life of its own.

They swerved around my rifle, much faster than I could aim or avoid, and tore into the sleeves of my sailor’s outfit and bit into the flesh of my arm. I reached for those...whatever they were. Goddamn leeches, for whatever I cared, and pulled them off. But when I looked up, saw what they were attached to, I knew the fight was far from over: they had regenerated once more, a full, taunting display. That same sinister face.

“You can try many times, but I’ll continue to come back and I just know you don’t have an unlimited supply of ammunition,” again, that taunt. “Sooner or later, you will run out and the question will be whether your life or your ammunition will run out first as you, meanwhile, only have one life.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I brushed off. “I’ve heard it all before. YOLO.”

It was true, though, that I couldn’t just keep shooting and hope that one shot would put them down for good. If I wanted to put an end to this, I would have to make whatever few shots I had count.

Of course, I have other means to finish you off.

“But you know,” I continued, with little regard for whatever their next move would be, “in a way, that’s my strength. You see, pain means little to you as you can just recover within an instant. But me? I bleed, and I feel the weight of every one of my injuries.”

“How is that a strength?” They asked, incredulous.

Really, I could have given an answer, but if I was being honest, I didn’t know how that worked either.

Maybe I just prefer being mortal, if I’m being honest. That sense that there will be an end.

They ran forth, going on the offensive. Figuring the time to pull it out was drawing near, I dashed out from between the kegs and back into the middle of the room so that I would have more space to work with. However, their many appendages were faster and swung forth at the back of my heel, cutting through the skin of my ankle and causing me to trip over. I landed on my side with a heavy thud.

“Damn it,” I hissed. At least I landed smack dab in the middle of the room, right where I wanted to be. As I turned to my back, I grabbed my rifle and aimed toward the creature who had taken on the image of that other me. But before I could fire, they shot one of their appendages from out of their back and tossed my rifle out of my hands. To add insult to injury, or maybe just more injury, before I could pick myself back up, they leaped forward and stamped down against my chest with their boot.

I wheezed out a little, “oof” sound and tried to get up, but they just dug their heel further into my chest. They looked down and as hard as it was to admit, I really was pinned down.

“You really have become so weak, haven’t you? Your old self wouldn’t have sustained so many injuries, wouldn’t have fallen for so many obvious traps, but here you are, a feeble shadow of your old self. Now that I’ve worn you down, I’ll stamp out every bit of life left in you, tear you limb from limb, devour you, and at last, take your place.”

I gasped as she dug in deeper and my breaths soon became shorter and more shallow. Their heel was so close to my neck, weighing down on my throat.

This is so uncomfortable, was my only thought, is this what Demetria wanted me to do to her way back when? I don’t get it, though. It doesn’t feel good at all. So why? Why would she want something like that? What’s so attractive about this? It makes no goddamn sense!

“...Why…?” I managed to wheeze out.

“Why? Really? That’s all you have to say? The answer should be simple enough: you don’t belong to this world. You were just an opportunist, thinking you could –”

I turned my head and my shaking hand grabbed their ankle and squeezed down, then pulled.

“No. Why does anyone find this attractive?!” I gasped out, and that time I was furious.

I slammed them down and that time they were the one on the ground. That meant it was my turn to stomp down, and sure enough, I did. Over and over and over and – you get the idea.

“Why?!” I stomped down and shouted.

“Is this hot to you? Huh? Huh?” I stomped down. Again.

“It doesn’t feel good at all, does it? DOES IT?!” My voice grew more shrill as I aimed my own boot right at their head and stamped down, hard enough to squish through their skull like it was a pumpkin.

“What if I kept going? Huh? Does that turn you on, then?” I huffed and puffed and continued to stomp around, disregarding the fact that it wouldn’t really kill my enemy. That no longer mattered to me. I went on until at last, a deep breath and I willed myself to stop.

As soon as I stopped, my foe wriggled across the floor and reformed a couple of meters away from me. It only took a few seconds for that replica Rhea to stand across from me once more. Just as I was confused about what made something so violent a turn on, my enemy also had a confused expression as their brow curled and their head tilted. No grin, just pursed lips and a tilted head.

“Did you get that out of your system?” They asked.

“Yeah,” I let out one last deep breath of relief, “I think I’m good now. Thanks.”

“Good. Shall we continue?”

I nodded.

“Yeah.”

We both charged at each other, our fists readied. I already knew I was at a disadvantage, but that didn’t matter anymore. At last, I began to feel it: the heat of battle. As if little drafts of hot air flew past me.

As their clawed fist opened up and those long talon-like tendril nails shot out, I ducked and reached into the sailor uniform and pulled out the small spear I had crafted and swung it upward, tearing that vessel in front of me clear in half.

They shrieked as blood spilled out onto the floor and I thought I saw a massive maw of teeth and a tongue split in two right in the middle of what should have been their torso.

“You,” they growled, the ‘mouth’ on their head also having been split in half, yet able to speak just fine all the same.

“Yeah, it’s crude,” I held up the small spear. Once just a metal rod, but I had a particular mineral tied to the end of it, “but while I was out at sea without my rifle, I had to make do with what I had. There could have been any number of creatures of the deep ready to strike, not to mention that I knew that if I wandered through that fog, you’d have wanted nothing more than to tear me apart then and there. So I fastened a shard of an angel’s essence to the tip of it.”

They scowled and grimaced. I dunno, I guess they didn’t like the exposition. Here I thought they’d have appreciated an explanation, but I guess being Remora was a thankless job. Alas, while my bullets contained similar kind of material, it was amusing to think that what could have done them in was just a poorly made spear.

Alas, that wasn’t the case: no, it wasn’t a straightforward reformation like before, as their left fist clenched and their face scrunched up, like they were trying to connect the two halves, but couldn’t.

“Ha,” I scoffed. “I’m amazed you’re even able to stand at all right now.”

But the many worm-like pieces of each half did move, and the ends to the left half sprouted many tendrils and appendages as it filled itself out until the left half was one whole fake-ass Rhea. Then, with the newly formed right hand, they grabbed hold of their former right half with their new right arm and reshaped it into what looked to be a large, one-sided ax or butcher knife, but made up of veins and muscle tissue.

“No fair!” I whined. Of course, that should have been expected. An opponent who could reshape itself after being destroyed several times over wasn’t meant to be a “fair” sport, now were they?

I composed myself. I had to, as they charged on once more, no longer that sinister smile, and just an indignant scowl. As they approached, they swung forth and I dodged to the side, then swung my spear down and chopped off their left arm. No cry of pain this time, no indication that it held any meaning to them at all, and it fell to the floor, only to regrow. But by then, I swerved to the back and shoved the spear right into their chest, then swung upward.

Again, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Regrowth without a second thought.

Guess the same trick won’t work twice.

In fact, they turned and swung their large fleshy ax right at my face. I stepped back, held the spear in front of me for protection, but watched as the ax split it with ease and little shards of my spear from the tip flew at me and made little cuts across my cheeks.

Well, great. There goes my secret weapon.

Things weren’t looking so cool after all. Odd, too, how it worked so well back in the alleyway even without an angel’s essence. I just had to get to their heart and that was that. Not the case with the one in front of me, was it? It was like I had to go for total annihilation, no trace remaining, and I just didn’t know if I had the firepower for that.

Maybe if I set this basement on fire, but I’m not about to risk the lives of the people above. Say what you will about my cold heart, but even my old self didn’t believe in collateral damage.

I stepped back and wiped the blood off my cheeks.

“Ha. You’ve been disarmed. Your little makeshift weapon broke. You’ve been made into a bloody mess. You’re at the end of your rope,” they recited as if they were some sort of judge reading off my list of crimes.

“Are you kidding? I’m just warming up,” I snickered, and I couldn’t help but smile. Yes, I was more desperate than I had been before, but if nothing else, this was fun.

“You have nothing!” They roared, but I shook my head and ran toward them anyway. My move prompted them to swing their fleshy weapon, but I ducked down and swung my fist into their false face. Their free hand caught it, then dug their talon-like fingers into my fist and I bit my lip just to avoid yelling out, then I decided that wasn’t very efficient: so, I reached in and bit down on those fingers which held my fist themselves, sunk my teeth in. It tasted less like flesh and more earthen, like dirt or mold.

I spat out as the impostor had little choice but to release their grip and upon doing so I headbutted them. For not even a second, a thought arose that cautioned me not to do so, as there was the chance that my own head would sink into the strange wormy mass that made up their head. But that thought didn’t matter to me in the slightest, and it didn’t seem to matter much to them either as they reeled back and winced in pain.

“You’re desperate,” they groaned.

“I’m alive!” I declared. It was the rush I always craved in battle. That moment which seldom lasted long, but always brought with it a taste of what I should have felt more often.

But of course you wouldn’t get it. Even if you were her, you wouldn’t have, would you? That thought brought with it a tinge of sadness I didn’t think I ought to have felt.

Their claws swung forth faster than I could have reacted. For all my boast, for all the thrill that came with such a struggle, I had no defense this time and I felt the extent of each sharp finger dig into the side of my face.

Along my cheeks came three or four deep cuts and my eyelids slammed tight, barring any entry. When I struggled to open my eyes, all I saw around me were various hues and blurs, the notion of colors I couldn’t quite put names to as even my thoughts turned to fuzzy static. Wetness filled the bloody side of my face which reminded me of ants running down a sugarcane, or if I wanted a more normal comparison, icicles melting into clear water down a windowpane.

Clear...no, murky…

My thoughts would not cooperate. Analogies did me little good and as I staggered back, I felt a tug at the collar of my sailor uniform. Damn, I should have taken off the blasted thing a while ago. It was too bulky for its own good.

I blinked a few times, my senses regaining. Blurs of colors took concrete shape once more. However, I felt the vibration of numbness surround myself as I peered down to see the enemy lift me up above them.

“I bet you think you did the right thing,” the creature, impostor, animated corpse, whatever they were, declared, “letting the others run off while you held me off. You don’t get that they too will meet their deaths in time.”

You underestimate them…

“The old you wouldn’t have cared. You would have been more concerned over yourself. But now I take it that you expected the possibility of not making it out alive. That it didn’t matter, as long as they survived. How commendable. You’ve gained emotions. You’ve grown to care about them. But it’s made you weak and naive. After I’ve finished you off, they will be next, and all your efforts will mean nothing. It shouldn’t take me long at all to get to them and tear them apart.”

Are you done? I know I can’t really do anything right now, but you’re really annoying. If I’m really finished, couldn’t you at least grant me the courtesy of shutting the fuck up?

I glanced over and noticed them ready their little whatever weapon.

Ugh. This is so cringe. I bet the other me at least went out in a cooler fashion than this.

“Hey grossface!” Yelled a shrill, mouse-like voice in the distance. Some sort of voice which might have been cacophonous in a certain context, but for me it brought a certain sense of joy. It was a familiarity that said, “yes, this is a comfort voice.”

However, “grossface”? Really? That was the best insult?

With my mind preoccupied, I was a little startled when I saw a knife flung into the side of my impostor’s face. They must have also been unprepared, as they didn’t manage to react in time and in their effort to block or deflect it, they ended up dropping me back to the floor.

I collapsed at first, but found my footing and stood back up. My first course of action was to turn and yell at Demetria, who stood near the entrance to the tunnels.

“What are you doing back here?! I thought I told you to go on ahead!” I chewed her out (not literally. Look, I knew some figures of speech).

“And I would, had I not been aware that you would pull such a reckless move,” she replied with a scowl and if I wasn’t mistaken, it was like she was scolding me right back.

For all my disappointment that one of the others returned, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit of joy from seeing her once again.

Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I touched the side of my face once more. I thought for a moment that I had blushed, but nope, it was just blood.

When’s it gonna dry already? This is so lame.

Demetria’s knife flew out from the side of the enemies’ face that it had been wedged in and returned to its owner. That’s when I had a sort of idea. With a few hops backwards and my head continuing to spin, I made some distance between the false Rhea and I and Demetria ran over to me as well, allowing us to meet halfway.

“Are you so weak that you’re having to rely on the help of another to bail you out? Just a moment ago you were frail and in peril. What happened to being strong? Independent? Do any of those things mean anything to you?” My false reflection taunted, or demanded answers from me. I couldn’t tell which. Whether it was a playful sneer or a harsh bout of confusion. For my own sake, I preferred to think it was the latter.

“What you fail to understand is that I was never given an option,” I replied in earnest, “no one ever asked me if being strong was something that I wanted, and if given the choice, I would rather be weak and feel than cold and lifeless.”

Although I am still very much cold, and maybe that would always be a part of me. Still, there’s more to me now.

“That’s something you would get if you were really her,” I added, “it’s never been about strength, but about finding some sense of warmth, whether it be physical or something else. How even though it may not have been possible, even futile, the search continued until the very end. Even now, I’m looking for it. If you don’t understand that, then you lack a fundamental understanding of who Rhea is. Who I am.”

“Such drivel. None of what you said will matter when you’ve reached your end. It doesn’t matter if you have another supporting you, you’re still at the end of your rope,” that vessel growled.

“Is this what you’ve been dealing with?” Demetria turned to me and asked.

“Pretty much,” my voice weary, I replied. As bad of a shape as I was in, I felt rather good about my odds. Not to mention that I was sure I’ve been in worse shape before. “Anyway, I’ve got an idea. Are you up for a distraction?”

“I’m up for anything that will put an end to this,” she answered.

Oooookay, a simple yes would have sufficed. But I’d take it.

“You take the left. I’ll take the right. Let’s keep them occupied,” I instructed. She nodded along, then the two of us ran at our respective ends.

“That won’t work,” Not Rhea warned, on on cue I watched as they shot out multitudes of writhing tentacles in both of our directions.

In response, I slipped out of the sailor’s uniform and tossed it in front of me, then bolted, only looking back to see it be torn up and in tatters.

Good riddance. Thing didn’t even keep me warm, anyway.

With a small window of time available, I rolled out from behind the keg barrels and reached for my rifle, then darted to the other end where Demetria was situated.

“So, what’s the plan now?” She turned beside me and asked.

“I need to grab that spear,” I answered, “it should still have a small fragment of the angel’s essence. Even something so tiny should be enough.”

“What? All your other shots haven’t been enough, have they?” She argued, and really? She just had to bring that up? When I was so sure I had some semblance of victory?

“I’m not going to say this time will be different, but a plan is a plan.”

“Redundant, but I get your point,” she commented, then nodded as she took off. She tossed one of her knives to the fake-ass Rhea, but they caught it between their fingers (or whatever they were).

“Nice. Try,” the creature uttered and from their mouth shot forth many appendages, ever increasing in size, and all headed Demetria’s way. However, she just stood, as if every last one of them meant nothing to her, and just as they were about to hit her, she raised her arm out and a translucent barrier erected.

A miniature bounded field? But how did she get such a thing?

I thought that I could run out while they were focused on Demetria, but of course, that was wishful thinking as more appendages sprouted from their arm and soared in my direction. I fired my rifle in the center of the creature’s palm and slid down to the floor to grab the spear. Indeed, its end had been chipped off, but not completely broken.

Good. Now just like back in that alleyway. Only this time, it will be much more explosive.

“Out of the way, Demetria!” I shouted and just in time for the impostor to turn around, but it was too late: I took the spear and shoved it right into their chest, where their heart would have been, had they one.

“All that effort, just for something so useless?” They looked down and reacted with incredulity.

“Who said I was done?” I sneered, then split my rifle in two, back into the pistols. I then explained, “here’s the thing: yes, my rifle uses ammunition, but my pistols? Pure energy, self-replenishing. Almost like what you’ve been doing with your body. They don’t do much damage on their own, but they still pack their own kind of punch.”

“So what? You’ve already shot at me with those and I just regenerated. How will this time be different?”

My smile widened and I aimed at the end of the spear which stuck out from the creature’s humanoid form. Maybe at one point the thing in front of me was human, was even who they claimed to be, but that time had long past.

I took aim and the resulting blast surged through the metal rod and created a charcoal-like cloud of smoke. As the smoke began to clear, I lifted my leg up and rammed the heel of my boot right into the end of the spear.

That impostor, that endless sea of thorns in my side, had fallen, a great collapse roared as the floor we all occupied shook for a full second.

I knew it wasn’t over. That mocking voice said as much:

“Great show, but I’m still here. I can still regenerate.”

Yes. Great show indeed. Before me lay a crude display as the spear was planted firm within their chest and the blast had taken out both of their arms. Little bits of static jumped around their disgraceful body and I saw as they winced. That wince soon turned to a frozen struggle of anguish.

“Why? Why aren’t they coming back?” They grimaced, groaned, and soon their voice grew to a panic. “Come on!”

I shook my head and approached them.

“You wore her face, you used her name, but you didn’t know anything about her. How she should act. What her name means,” I began. “you know, I used to be ashamed of that name, because of the knowledge of who else had it. Yes, I was a groundhog, afraid of my own shadow. I would criticize myself, and when I would, it would be her name and face doing the criticizing. It was like I had to live up to some standard that didn’t even exist because she didn’t know me and acted in accordance to who she was. I knew that’s how I should have been as well, but I couldn’t help but think that I wasn’t worthy of that name, that it meant something important, and indeed, it did.”

“Ugh. I’ll bite. Humor me. What does it mean?”

“It’s a pun. Reflection. That’s all it is. It means little unless you state the full name, as anyone could have that name. Even then, even if you state that full name, guess what? It wouldn’t be the only name. If you were her, you would know that. Because Rhea Flection isn’t just Rhea Flection. She’s also Clara Waters, Mira Image, Claire Skye, Clair Ritty, Dee Flecked, and many more. I know this because I am Rhea Flection, and I’m not the one that was her, but the one that is me. I’m also Remora, and to top it off, I just came up with a new one: Rhea Fraction.”

“Are you calling yourself that because you’re just a fraction of who you once were?” They asked, an obvious attempt to get under my skin. Really, poor attempt. 2/10.

“No,” I shook my head, “it’s because Rhea is just a fraction of my names.”

“Can we hurry this up?” Demetria demanded with impatience as she tapped her foot.

“I’m almost done,” I dismissed her, “this is important.”

Then, I turned my attention back to the creature:

“I used to think that I never knew you, could never know you, but I do. I understand you because you are also me: you were afraid, afraid that you could never feel anything, that you could never love, let alone be loved. That despite the fact that you wanted friends, wanted people in your life, you just felt that you couldn’t have that because such a thing and yourself were incompatible. You felt alienated from the very concept of connection. So day after day, you would do your job without purpose until eventually you found others that you wished you could share a connection with, and upon realization, you ran.”

“You don’t have to do the whole speech, you know,” Demetria informed me, “that’s not really her.”

“I know. But for my own sake, I need to say it: I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I never saw you as your own person. I’m sorry that you didn’t think you could have those things. That you saw no other way but to go out the same way you’ve always lived. I want to tell you that it’s possible, that you could have had those things, however difficult, but I can’t. I think you would have loved meeting all these people, finding out that you could have friends, have connections. I’m sorry, because I can’t even blame you for thinking such things, because even now, it feels unreal.”

I let out a deep breath.

“And the worst part is? The person I want to say this to isn’t around to hear it.”

I stepped back, then opened fire against the spear lodged in the impostor. By that point, there must have been enough of a shock to create a chain reaction, and if so, then every piece of that creature would feel its effects: complete obliteration.

Another step back, another two shots, and that time, I heard it: their gurgling wails of agony, the sounds of bugs being squashed and a thick, dark cloud of smoke formed. It soon engulfed the one who inhabited that corpse, the one who had caused so much trouble, soon to be gone.

Demetria walked over as I reassembled the rifle, then strapped it to my back. Another deep exhale found its way out from me, a sigh of relief.

“It’s finally done, isn’t it?” She commented, giving the dissipating smoke a quick glance.

“Yeah. Soon they’ll fade into ash until that too floats off and fades away.”

It was that same way with the one who called themselves Buddy Fairweather, much as it was the same with the guy who attacked Ceres and I in the alleyway. My eyes were fixed upon that cloud, that impenetrable smoke. After a few seconds, I saw it: the ashes, dust, whatever it was, rose into the air, then scattered until they too were no more.

“Let’s get goi –” Demetria was about to urge me to head off. After all, the others could have used the help. But something stopped me, kept me frozen in place, and then my eyes felt a stinging sensation in the same moment that my heart pounded away at my chest, begged for release. When I saw it, the reason for such an abject reaction, I shook and shivered, harder than I may have ever done: a pair of legs began to form as the smoke started to clear. Then two hands, arms, followed by a torso of someone wearing a thick, red jacket. Once I saw that face, I had to do everything in my power not to make my jaw drop.

“No…” I muttered.

Demetria turned just as the smoke cleared, and threw her hands up.

“Oh, come on! It’s still not over?” She complained.

“Be...be on your guard,” I advised, and my teeth chattered. I knew it wasn’t the same cold I usually felt: no, it was fear.

Demetria readied herself in a half-crouched stance, switchblade knife in her palm.

“What about you? Why aren’t you doing anything?” She turned and murmured.

“I’m...I’m…” I couldn’t figure out what to say, but everything felt different. There was a heightened sense of tension, despite what should have been a lack of danger. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if we were going to have to fight that impostor again, but I wasn’t sure about anything. There was no spear, no metal rod, lodged in her chest. There were hands, pale hands, and on her face, between her lips, I thought I could see something poking out, but I wasn’t sure of what.

Wait. ‘Her’?

I waited. For something, anything, so I could figure out my next move, so this terrible feeling could leave me.

I glanced over and saw her/their fists begin to twitch, and then her/their face stirred, the eyes left closed.

“Ugh…” Escaped a low and quiet moan and then her/their mouth began to open, just slow enough so that the thing between her/their lips stayed intact.

“Why have I woken up? I was enjoying a nice rest,” came the sprained words, its sound only a little more than a whisper.

“Don’t...don’t let us keep you…” my own voice trembled, a forced reply I did not want to make.

This is wrong. This is so wrong. Thisisowrongthisiswrongthisiswrong.

“Uh…” Demetria looked up at me, confused, maybe a little frightened, herself. I couldn’t even tell, but she asked me, through clenched teeth, “what’s going on?”

“It’s her. I don’t know how, but it is,” I concluded and my hands felt stiff, as if turned to a block of ice.

Our miracle guest lifted up one of her arms and placed it over her stomach, where torn fabric and a large gash with deep, red blood oozed out. She turned her head and her eyes continued to refuse to open.

“What are we supposed to do now? What’s the plan? What do we even make of this?” Demetria asked a barrage of questions, none of which I had the answer for.

“Mm...Juniper? Is that you?” Moaned out her dry voice once more, still only little more than a whisper.

“What?” Demetria groaned, flat.

Juniper...Hmm…

“I still don’t get it,” I rasped, “but she’s still not going to last long. You should be there for her before she goes. Comfort her.”

“What?!” She spat out, but I couldn’t bear it any longer, I bolted, ran for the tunnel.

“Do it. For me. Please,” I urged Demetria, and then, when I was far enough from those two, I collapsed, fell back against a wall in the tunnel. My hands still trembled, everything about me trembled. My heart rate continued to speed up.

If she’s alive...if she lives...then that means…

“No...please...I don’t want to go just yet,” I begged, slumped my head over, and felt dejected.

Was this what everything’s been leading up to? Just a hollow victory before I too disappear?

There were things I could have done. I could have at least tried to go to the others, see them one last time, but I was too scared to move. Too scared to do anything but sit and try to wrap my head around everything.

#remoras full #writing #stories #action #supernatural #horror #scifi #arctic #remora #impostor #rhea #drama

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angel-squid-trash-ghost · 4 years ago

Text

Parental Guidance Pt.3

"You have a lot of explaining to do Iroh.” The Fire Lord’s voice rumbled on the marble walls.

“I can begin anywhere you like, brother.” Iroh kept his face impassive yet still retained his natural smirk.

“You can begin by telling me why you kidnapped the Prince!” The Fire Lord bellowed.

Iroh was no fool. And at times neither was his brother. But Ozai was a glutton for flattery, “I simply was doing what was best for the country. I could not allow my honorable brother to taint his hands in scandal. When our late father, may he be resting in the hands of Agni, had tasked you with the elimination of the prince, of course I did not question. When Lady Ursa foolishly disrupted, the task was not completed. I only did what a good brother would do and tried to help the best way I could.”

“By taking him from the palace alive.” Ozai’s nose started to flare.

“Yes of course! Seeing the boy board alive raised no suspicions. I was free to help on the open ocean. Away from listening ears and prying eyes. And alas, I was handed the perfect solution. When our ship sunk it took many lives including the Prince’s. The people weep for him in the streets as we speak.” Iroh held back the bile creeping up his throat.

“I do not care what they are doing in the streets. They seem to be weeping about something all of the time. Is it not enough that I am conquering the world for them?”

“Oh but, brother, their tears can be used to your advantage. Appear to them and share in their losses of their own sons with yours. You will have them not just by their minds but also their hearts. They will see you as you truly are. A man who just wants what is best for his people.”

“I do not care what’s best for them. I want glory! Victory! I’ll let them starve if it means the rest of The Earth Kingdom!” Ozai thundered. The sound rung for seconds after. He breathed out smoke regaining his prim posture. “But I can see the appeal in that strategy.”

“You are wise and will make the best decision.” Iroh bowed. Only for a moment. He didn’t trust his brother not to throw fire at his head.

Ozai laughed, “So, what decision should I make about you? I should burn you alive. Or at least imprison you. Your attempt of help could have been a disaster.”

“But the spirits were on my side. Everything happened as it should have. Now the Prince is no longer a problem and you, dear brother, are Fire Lord.” Iroh fought the strain in his smile.

“True again.” Ozai looked to be pondering something. “Alright I have made a decision. We will use the Prince’s unfortunate death to win the people over. They will be allowed to pity me and then love me more. Then I will continue taking what belongs to us and they will worship me forever.” Ozai said pleased with himself.

“An excellent judgment.” Iroh nodded. He waited patiently for Ozai to say more.

“And about you. I don’t think our father would have wanted me to kill you. He would have just made the request if he did. I will allow you to keep your life. I may need you later.”

“A thousand thanks to you, your majesty.” Iroh himself thought he sounded a little forced.

“The news spreading of a dead royal child will surely knock the memories of your failure at Ba Sing Se right out of their simple heads.”

“Indeed.” Iroh bit his tongue. Ozai had not stopped mentioning the failed siege. He wished to insult his military career forgetting it was where Iroh lost his only child. Or perhaps he did not forget. He did try to murder his own son.

“If you ever move without my permission again, I will string you up in the middle of Caldera and set you aflame myself.” Ozai warped his mouth into a wicked grin.

Iroh was keen to change the subject in case Ozai thought too long on it. “Very understandable. Maybe we can start new with a nice cup of tea.”

“Yes.”

Servants reappeared a short time later with everything Iroh needed. He took the teapot into his hands and heated the water to the proper temperature. Iroh had not forgiven himself for abandoning Zuko and probably never would. He prayed every night he was still alive. He hadn’t expected the Water tribesman especially a Southern one, to be so unafraid of him. Then maybe they had gotten rid of Zuko and his nephew was truly dead. Iroh had tried to apologize that night as him and his men made their escape. Hopefully, it was enough to make the chieftain understand.

A piece of his heart was with Zuko. Another with his wife. Another with his son. The last bit he would try to give to Azula. Ozai’s second child. Iroh knew without the intervention of Ursa, Ozai would sink his talons into her and sear her with his hatred for everything not golden eyed and draped in red. Fortunately Azula was still a toddler and had more of a chance.

“So how is the Princess Azula progressing.” Iroh poured the tea.

“A cup of tea and you go rambling on like an old man.”

“A cup of wine and you ramble on like a mad one.” Iroh jested.

Ozai did not seem to mind, “Well her tutors say she is doing well. She is learning to write the formal characters.”

“Write? She is barely three years of age.” Iroh took a long sip.

“Yes. She is a prodigy. She’s excelling in teachings created for children twice her age. The sages have determined she will be a bender.”

Iroh caught his paternal tone and tried to hold onto it. “Oh good news.”

“Very good. I like her much more than the first one. The other one was always whining. I blame myself. I allowed him to be around his mother too much. Not this time. Azula will be the perfect heir.” His brother’s smile had not wavered once.

Iroh balked at what was considered to be a normal chat at tea in the court. He pressed on pouring another round, “And if I may ask, where is the Lady Ursa now?”

“Not that it is any of your business, but I had her branded and banished. But she has probably taken her own life by now.”

“Maybe.” Iroh said sadly.

It was almost certainly true. He wouldn’t blame her any.

…………………………….................................................................................

Zuko rolled over in his furs. He settled into the warmth that encircled him. He was still getting used to the cold. It wasn’t too bad until the wind blew. He looked across the floor to Katara. Katara was nice. She called him friend. She was teaching him how to talk like her. He was teaching her some of his words too. Every day he woke up; earlier than the rest, looking forward to sitting with Katara and learning new things. He squirmed closer to her. She never seemed to mind even when he did wake her. She’d always smiled at him before lolling back to sleep.

The next person to wake would be Sir. Sir always sat up, looked to his left, say something, and then fully arise. Zuko always pretended he was asleep. He’d watch Sir dress himself with his chiefly fittings and unwrap his great whale bone spear. He wished he was allowed to hold it. Not even Kanna picked it up.

Zuko watched Sir leave. He wasn’t sure if Sir ever noticed he was awake. Zuko had a difficult time figuring him out. He was kind enough. Although he wasn’t allowed to sleep near Sir anymore, he still said goodnight. Sir taught him things like sit straight, don’t rub it, speak up. He would ask Zuko if he was ok a lot. Sir liked it the most when Zuko said he was in a good mood. But there were other times when Sir would be a little more cross. He had to learn do not do that and did you hear me. It didn’t take Zuko long to figure out he wasn’t supposed to eat snacks in his bedding or bring Mink Snakes into the house.

He laid a little longer and stretched out his legs. He could feel the sun move higher in the sky even with the pelt blocking the window. Next, Kanna woke. She made a lot of noise getting up. She waddled over to Zuko,

“Good morning, Early bird!” Gran- Gran bent the best she could. She planted a big wet kiss on his cheek. “Go get that pan hot now. I have something special for breakfast.”

Zuko threw off his furs eagerly. He ran over to the hearth throwing some fresh wood in. Gran- Gran had showed him how to use spark rocks. The small lights bounced around the wood until a tiny string of smoke appeared. Zuko cupped his hands and blew the fire to life.

“Well done. Now get Katara and Sokka up.”

“Yes!” Zuko hopped up and crouched to Katara’s side. “Katara time to wake up.” He patted her cheek softly. “Up, up.”

“Good morning, Zuko.” She smiled big.

“Good morning.” He smiled back.

Katara suddenly scrunched back down into the furs. “Mm! It’s too cold!”

Zuko reached behind him and pulled out the extra blanket Sir had given him. “Here.” He said in Fire’s Tongue.

Katara sat up. He wrapped the blanket around her. She nestled softening her expression. Some of her braid had come loose and the dark ringlets roamed around her. She looked at him with sleepy eyes. Zuko moved some of the hair from her face. If he kept doing it, he feared she would fall back asleep. He made sure he was nice to her when she woke up. Zuko regretted waking up Katara those nights when his mind wouldn’t cease showing him images of black water and screaming men. But Katara was there when he opened his eyes. Her small hands would grasp him and tell him he was safe. And he would feel safe. He wanted Katara to have the same feeling.

She pulled the thick material tightly around herself. “Thank you.”

Zuko stood and grabbed his pillow.

“What are you doing?” Katara yawned.

Zuko tossed the pillow at Sokka. The pillow made a satisfying thump. “Sokka! Wake up!”

Sokka made the noise of a dying Tiger Seal. “Go away!”

“Zuko be nice.” Kanna tutted.

“Sokka! Food. You help.”

“Cooking is women’s work.” Sokka abruptly sprang up. “Is that bacon?” His mouth watered.

“Sure is.” Kanna eyed smugly. “But maybe only us women and Zuko will get some.”

“You help cook or you help clean. Gran-Gran say.” Zuko teased.

“So you go help then Mr. Helpy-helper-head.” Sokka rolled back over.

When Katara went over the words for family, Zuko learned Sokka was her brother. Sokka still wasn’t open to Zuko being in the house. Zuko at first tried to get Sokka to like him but he just ended up being called names. Some of them he hadn’t learned yet, but he could tell they were mean. Sometimes he’d try to boss him around and Zuko would just pretend not to understand. Katara said he didn’t have to listen to Sokka anyway. There wasn’t much he knew about him besides that he liked meat and weapons. It seemed if he was not eating, he was practicing throwing his boomerang.

“You know the little ones can’t help with all the cooking yet. How do expect to feed yourself when you go hunting with your father?” Kanna said.

Sokka pouted taking the spatula. He mumbled something about “warrior’s sleep” watching the meat carefully.

"Watch out for the grease popping."

"I know. Ow!" Sokka jumped back.

Zuko and Katara laughed at him. Katara moved her arm to ask Zuko to join her. He sat and snuggled under the blanket. She was warm or he was warm. He didn’t know. But she was soft and her hair was soft and the blanket was soft. Zuko thought about building a house made out of a giant blanket. Then they could be warm forever.

Katara turned her attention to Zuko, "Guess what! Today is your last day wearing these.”

“Last day?” Zuko asked unfamiliar with the phrase.

“No more bandages!”

Zuko nodded. "That is good. Katara is happy?”

“Uh-huh!” Katara hugged him, “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yes!” Zuko cheered.

…

Breakfast was amazing. Zuko would dream of the salty meat for weeks. Sokka had already joined the other boys in weapons lessons. Zuko sat with Katara to hear the story about the Wolf and the Raven. Gran-Gran was an amazing storyteller. She showed them tiny cards with painted pictures. They had to hold them carefully because they were very old. The lesson in the story was about working together. Zuko thought it was his favorite so far. Next was practicing writing his name. Katara could write his name better than him. He tried not to let it bother him. Katara said he would get better. He was a natural talent in sewing. Gran-Gran mended clothes so she could trade for goods around the village. Ms. Yise’s petty skirt was going to get lamp oil. Mr. Kursru’s parka would get more spark rocks. Then they were going to pick up the weekly rations of non-hunted food. Gran- Gran had tried to explain to him that tradesmen had brought some root vegetables from the Earth Kingdom. He didn’t know what they were or where the Earth Kingdom was, but Gran-Gran seemed excited. So he was too.

His excitement didn’t last long. Kehana, the healer had requested to see him. He didn’t like visiting her. She always looked at him like she had eaten something bitter. She was old like Gran-Gran but not at all inviting. He hated the ointment she put on him. It stung and smelled rotten. He hated her thin fingers and how they were so sharp he felt like they might poke right through him. But Katara always went with him. She held his hand and told Kehana when she was being too rough. He was lucky to have a friend like her.

“Almost done.” Katara squeezed his hand as Kehana prodded at his scar, “Then we’ll go deliver the clothes. Gran-Gran should be all done when we get back.”

“Ok.” Zuko winced as the brush irritated the freshly cleaned scar tissue.

“Can you be more gentle please.” Katara asked sweetly. Zuko sighed in relief.

Kehana glared but lessened the pressure. “Your father shouldn’t be letting you spend so much time with him.”

Katara creased her brow, “Huh?”

“You are around him too much. It isn’t right.”

Zuko didn’t like her tone. Katara held his hand tighter, “Zuko’s my friend!”

“I hope you remember that when the Fire Nation come back.” Kehana all but threw the brush back in the bowl. “This is the last time I want to see your unsightly face, boy.”

Zuko lip quivered. He took a deep breath. Deeper than he ever had before. “Be nice.”

“Do not dare speak to me!” Kehana snapped. Zuko scrambled back. Her rage felt too familiar.

Katara pulled Zuko up. “Come on Zuko, let’s go. We don’t need her anymore anyway.” She grabbed their parkas.

Kehana started ranting about how she had come so low in her life to end up treating a Fire nation child. “Stupid girl. Your mother thought she could talk to the Fire Nation as well. And now she is dead.”

Something in Katara’s chest lurched. “Miserable hag!” Katara kicked the ointment, splattering it on the wall. She hadn’t even buttoned up before she was dragging Zuko out of the hut.

Zuko stared at Katara’s uncovered head as he tried to cry silently. She was really upset, and he didn’t want to make her worry more. He wasn’t entirely sure of what Kehana said but he could feel it in his bones that she hated him. He felt like it was his fault she was mean to Katara. The tears fell harder. He could no longer conceal his sniffling. Katara stopped stomping and turned around. Her eyes were watery, and her face was twisted like he’d never seen before. For a moment he thought she was going to yell at him. She sighed and touched the edge of his scar.

“Don’t worry about her. You’re not ugly.”

Zuko shook his head. He didn’t know the right words to say in that moment, “I’m sorry.” Is all he could think of.

“You don’t need to be sorry. Kehana is just a meanie. An old stupid meanie…” She trailed off as tears slipped. She tried to blink them away. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about anyway! Mommy was trying to protect us!” Her voice cracked.

Zuko almost tackled her into a hug. Katara let loose and sobbed hard. She shuddered when he rubbed her back. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many questions he wanted to ask. There were still so many words he didn’t know. So he whispered Fire’s Tongue into her hair. He told her she was the nicest person ever. How she was brave for speaking up for him. And how beautiful she was when he first woke up. He thought she was a spirit of mercy and he still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t. Katara settled down and drew back a little. Zuko gently wiped her eyes. She hiccupped in some breaths before she fully regained herself. She put her hands on his face. Zuko could tell she was thinking about something.

“You’re not bad. I can tell. I’ve seen bad people. They hurt my mommy. I think they hurt you too.” She traced his scar again. “When my mommy died, I prayed for her to come back.” She shuttered again. Zuko put his hands on hers. “When it didn’t work, I prayed for a friend. There’s no one my age here and it felt like no one else understood…I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“Katara teach me. So I can talk and make Katara feel better.” Zuko started to fasten her parka.

Katara smiled big. But tears came again. She threw her arms around his neck. “I knew when I heard you came from the ocean that La had saved you. And then Mommy had brought you here so that I wouldn’t be lonely anymore.”

“Lonely?” Zuko asked.

Katara looked at Zuko. “Don’t worry about that word. I’ll make sure you never have to know what it means.”

Zuko squished her cheeks making her giggle. “Friends.”

“Friends forever.” Katara put her forehead to his.

The night was easier after Gran-Gran reprimanded them for dawdling. She couldn’t have been too angry because she made cookies to celebrate Zuko not having to wear his bandages anymore. At bedtime, Katara insisted on sleeping in Zuko’s furs. Sir had no luck in trying to convince her otherwise. After their goodnight prayers and kisses, Katara cuddled close and Zuko closer. She fell asleep before him. He closed his eyes to follow.

“Friends forever.” He whispered into the darkness.

#zutara #zuko x katara #Zuko #young zuko #katara #young katara #sokka #young sokka #hakoda #kanna #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla fanfic #alternate universe #cannon divergence #i own nothing #oc #baby zuko #sad katara

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m-feys · 4 years ago

Text

Piece of Home

Aang had already wandered off to get water as per Katara’s request and Toph had ambled off to, “check the perimeter,” as she put it, politely ignoring Katara’s requests to go get more firewood in favor of whatever she was doing. Probably actually checking the perimeter, considering the kind of territory they were in. It was just them at camp now, with Sokka almost through with putting up the tent while Katara started on the food.

As soon as the tarp was in place (no need for extra blankets, it was hot enough in the Fire Nation already) he stepped back and arched his back in a stretch before turning around to bother Katara.

“What’s cooking?” he asked, coming to stand behind her and leaning his hand on the top of her head fondly, knowing it would annoy her. Of course, he already knew what she was going to make, options were limited, especially with them having just landed. Sokka would help her peel the potato-carrots while the water warmed up and then she would make a stew with the meager seasonings they had left over and a small serving of rice to go with it, rationed out from their time on the run since Ba Sing Se.

Maybe if he got the chance to hunt tomorrow they would have something more, save for Aang, who would just have to wait until they could visit the market.

He waited for her to snipe back something like: ‘Nothing for you if you don’t get off me!” It never came. Instead she was silent, and the spark rocks were left unused in her hands, the fire still unlit in front of her.

He pulled his hand away and dropped into a crouch beside her, suddenly concerned. “Hey, you good?”

She still said nothing, but then she turned her head to look at him, eyes shining with tears in the wane moonlight, panic spiked in his chest. His little sister was hurt but, where? How?

His eyes darted to get a quick look over her where she was sitting beside the fire wood but he couldn't see any obvious reasons for pain, no visible wounds.

“Katara what’s wrong?” he asked urgently.

She blinked and looked back down at her hands, eyes still so watery.

“I’m just— ” she tried to speak, breath shaking. She hesitated then, her brows pinching thoughtfully before she went on, “Sokka, do you ever… miss home?”

His heart dropped then, in relief, that’s what this was, homesickness.

He let out a breath and shifted so he was kneeling down beside her a little more comfortably.

“Yeah, of course I do,” he answered, waiting for her to go on. Because with Katara it was usually best to just be patient and let her get it out on her own.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to go home?” She whispered, so breathless and the words took the breath out of him too. He looked at her sharply then, eyes pulled wide.

He had no answer, because, ‘I always planned on dying for this war, for my people, my home, the world, and for you,’ was not an answer to give his little sister, and no way he was going to lie to her either.

He had nothing. He’d always promised himself to protect her but really, what could he do? He had no bending, he couldn’t keep her out of this fight, and he had no way of actually shielding her from anything. There was nothing he could do. He couldn’t even promise his little sister he would get her home safe, when she was so scared. He was useless.

He could only look at her, gutted, and flounder for something, anything, to console her with.

And then Katara was the one doing the talking, saving him again, exactly how his younger sister shouldn’t have to. She was his responsibility and he was failing.

“I keep thinking about my furs, we lost them a while ago and it’s really stupid, but I used to bury my face in them when I was feeling like this,” there’s silent tears dripping down onto her hands now, head bowed towards her lap and the sight of it pulls him out of his own head, back to what’s important. He puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and waits once more.

They hadn’t needed their furs since they left the North Pole, he hadn’t even known Katara had been doing that. How long had he gone unaware of this? They lost them back in the desert, along with Appa, of course Katara never would have said anything.

“And I miss Gran Gran so much,” she said, letting out a sob with the words now, the dam breaking fully and he leaned closer to her to wrap an arm around her shoulder and she leaned into him too, “I want to curl up with her by the fire while we eat and show her everything I learned, but what if I never see her again?” She said brokenly, turning her head to look at him again suddenly, tears streaming down her face and a fragile desperation in her eyes.

“What if— what if we do get home,” she started, “but it takes too long? What if we do get home but she’s already dead?” She asked of him.

Sokka let out a shuddering breath of his own, tugging her closer then, and pressing his head to hers, it was so he wouldn’t have to see that look on her face and just as much so she couldn’t see the look on his, see how close he was to breaking.

“Don’t talk like that. Okay, Katara?” he said immediately, because this was all wrong he was supposed to be the pessimistic one here, she wasn’t ever supposed to have to bear the burden of thinking like that, but right now she was and he wished more than anything he could take it away.

“No matter what happens,” he said, voice breaking for a moment as warmth gathered in his eyes, but he took a breath and controlled his voice more carefully as he went on, “no matter where we go, Mom, and Dad, and Gran Gran. they’re all with us in a way, you know?” He said, everything felt like an uphill battle and this was no different, he just wished he could be more adequate when it came to consoling his sister, if nothing else.

She’d dropped the rocks now and had her hand resting on the hollow of her throat as she sniffed and sobbed, their Mother’s (grandmother’s) necklace wasn’t there, however. She’d had to take it off when they started hiding out in the Fire Nation.

He held her close to his side and smoothed a hand down her hair.

“You know,” he said, leaning away just enough to look down at her, petting a hand through her hair as he spoke and feeling vulnerable as he spoke about something he’d kept, more or less, locked away for the last year.

“Whenever I get worried, I look up, and I ask Yue to watch over them for me,” he says at a whisper. It was never fair, because he had been meant to watch over her and he’d failed. But he only ever asked her to check in on them, make sure they were doing alright, smiling down on them in her moonly ways. He glanced up to see the moon in it’s waxing crescent form, it seemed to glow brighter in that moment, but he knew it was only a trick of his eyes.

“Do you think she’s seen home?” Katara asked in return, sounding worn down and rung out.

“Well, the moon is in the sky at home so yeah, I would guess she’s seen it,” he answered wryly, smiling at her sadly.

“What do you think she thinks of it?”

Sokka paused and pondered over that for a moment, “I think she probably likes how the people there all depend on each other, and she probably would be amazed to meet Gran Gran, especially if she knew about how she came to the Southern Water tribe.”

“And she probably laughed at your stupid watchtower,” Katara spoke then, smiling up at him slightly, eyes still puffy and cheeks still shining with tears as she looked at him through the waves of hair hanging around her face.

“Hey,” he objected mildly, shaking her against him slightly, “I worked hard on that watchtower,” he countered, falsely offended. He thought back to the fish he’d carved for her that looked like a bear and guessed Katara was probably right, Yue might giggle and smile that charmed smile to see their home. But only in a way that was kind, because she seemed to radiate kindness.

“She would have really liked it,” he said, seriously, and honest, because it’s true.

“Yeah,” Katara agreed, ”and when we get home,” she went on, softly and he didn’t miss the fact that she said it with that reliable certainty she usually had. “You can tell her about how everything’s changed when I get back to rebuild with my bending.”

“Yeah?” He asked, smiling down at her head hopefully now.

“Yeah,” she agreed, shifting her head to look at him directly now and smiling back with that icy, unrelenting, stubborn look in her eye, the one that meant she was determined to do something no matter what.

He sighed, “good,” he said, lifting his hand now to brush away the wetness on her face, though he knew she could do it more efficiently herself with bending, but this was one small thing he could do for her. Gran Gran did the same, and further back where the memories got fuzzy it was their mom, who brushed away their tears and held them close.

“I should probably start the fire,” she sighed, though she still had yet to pick the spark rocks up again. He hummed thoughtfully, normally, he was the one to keep them on schedule and made sure that they all ate and promptly got some sleep after landing but right now he knew that wasn’t what she needed.

“You know,” he started, “if you want to feel at home, you could just freeze everything and walk around shivering.”

At that she snorted a laugh, “shut up, Sokka,” she suggested happily as she pushed at him slightly.

“I’m just throwing out ideas here,” he defended mildly, smirking slightly as she leaned against his side. Both of them content to sit side-by-side for a while. This was as close to home as they were going to get out here. For each other, they were the biggest piece of home they had left.

#water sibling week 2020 #atla #avatar: the last airbender #katara #sokka #water siblings #wsw #fanfic #my writing

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