#the fact that they remembered details about her teammates is so adorable i wish i had an account to credit for this </3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shreddedparchment · 4 years ago

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A Wife for Thor Pt.12

Queen of New Asgard

12/02/2020

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader Word Count: 9,737

Warnings: fluff, cute babies, talks of pregnancy, angst, Avengers shenanigans, talks of sex

A/N: So this one is a bit longer than the rest, I really wanted to make sure that this one was a lengthy treat. I didn’t want to split the chapter into two between getting to the Avengers and then actually meeting them and spending tie with them. I wanted to keep it together. I hope you all like it! I had a lot of fun with it, and mostly, I just really love Thor. I want him for myself. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Please DO NOT repost my stories on other sites or blogs!

REBLOGS are always welcome!

To say you’re a mess would be an understatement.

At least having Thor by your side gives you a small sense of stability, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re about to meet the Avengers.

Earth’s mightiest heroes.

People so famous that everyone knows their name. Even people in remote parts of the world know they exist.

The sensation of being pulled and gliding through the air in Thor’s arms as the Bifrost glow surrounds you both in your transport is nothing compared to the rolling of your stomach at the thought of saying or doing something stupid in front of Thor’s friends and comrades.

You hold him tighter, loving the way he feels in full armor. Only because it really drives home the fact that he could protect you from anything as opposed to being comfortable.

You’re dressed more simply though not at all casual. The outfit you’re wearing was shoved into your bag with two others in case of official events that might crop up during your honeymoon.

Because dinner with Thor’s teammates is supposed to be a relaxed event, you chose the most unimpressive of the three.

The bodice consists of a one-piece made of leather. Armor would be more accurate in describing it. Though bits of it have been dyed a dark yet also soft gray-purple, others, like the right breast piece and the strip that wraps down around your left side are a natural brown. Textured with a ridged design to compliment the thinner more boned design of the gray-purple section.

Around your waist and laced at the back is another a-symmetrical piece of that natural brown leather, but along the base of it is sewn a long flowing skirt made of a cotton voile base in navy and a sheer silk light blue making the effect of it together like shifting water.

The skirt is left open slightly on the right. If anyone pays really close attention, they’ll see the top of your thigh in the sway. Generally, the dress is appropriate and since this will technically be your first public outing with Thor, it was important you look the part.

Neither of you is wearing a crown. Not necessary really, if it isn’t an official ceremony or event, but you are wearing the large golden pin that Thor had made for you to put on the left breast of your sleeveless gown.

It’s the same interlaced arches that are on your swords with a crown that looks just like your wedding crown at the center where the arches connect.

It shines bright, brand new as it is, and is a symbol of your new status in the world.

A human Queen of Asgard.

It’s safe to say that your name is known from one corner of the Earth to the other which you only just realized when you were doing some research on the time it takes for a body to decompose in a demi-damp environment occasionally exposed to heat. You’d stumbled across a tabloid page with the headline How the New Queen of Asgard Bewitched the God of Thunder.

You hadn’t bothered to read the article because it was clear exactly what kind of reporting they were doing from the picture of you, which someone had pulled from the website of your old school, sitting on Thor’s chest with a photoshopped smirk and glowing red eyes.

There were a few others you read, most of them nice and from official news sources. All of them detailing your tragic childhood and your ascension to wealth. Then your birth ancestry was exposed making you a top candidate for Queen of the Asgardians and in one article for the New York Times, you recognized the pictures of your wedding as you and Thor stared at each other in all of your enamored glory.

Anyone with eyes can see that you love him and in those pictures, you can admit that it helps you feel a bit more secure in Thor’s love to see that he’s looking at you the exact same way. How can he look at you like that and not love you? Or at least be really fond of you?

As the air gets colder, mushy gray snow lining the streets below you, Thor’s body pulls up, preparing to stand as his speed slows.

You feel him step onto the pavement before you do, then slowly he lowers you, large hands so careful with you that you can’t help but look for his eye to see what he might be feeling.

His eyes are not on you though. They’re on the crowd that’s slowly begun to gather.

They’re giving you a wide berth, but they’re stopping to look, and some have pulled out their cell phones to take photos or record video.

You can hear whispers shift through the cold New York winter air, people leaning over to each other in excitement and curiosity. Much like the crowd back in New Asgard had when you’d driven by them to get to your dress fitting and the wedding parade.

You can’t really make out what they’re saying but Thor can, and he wraps his arm around your waist, turns you to face those that are nearest, and waves.

You follow his example and give them as kind a smile as you can, despite the sudden nerves eating at you.

Shit, do you have to say something? Are you expected to?

“Hello everyone. I know most of you have seen her in the papers and on the interwebs already, but this is my beautiful and lovely Queen. My wife, Y/N.” Thor declares, but even your name he caresses with the soft shift in his tone.

“Hello?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question, but it does.

Still, there are a few people that giggle at your reaction.

A sense of calm overcomes those watching, as if finally hearing you speak seems to have burst a bubble.

“Aw yew a pwincess?” A small hand tugs at your skirts and you turn to look down at an adorable little girl with smooth deep brown skin. Her hair is gathered in two small buns, tight braids keep it neat.

All you can really see are her big brown eyes, so wide and full of wonder.

You pull from Thor’s grasp and squat down to be on the toddler’s level. She can’t be more than three.

“She’s my Queen, little one.” Thor explains, squatting down beside you. “Queen of New Asgard. Isn’t she pretty?”

The little girl giggles and nods, then reaches up to touch your own hair which has also been braided, one long in the middle giving it a mohawk look, and several other small braids along the sides to keep it neat while flying.

At least that’s the bit that you remember from this morning.

Thor had pulled you out of bed at four o’clock, led you to a chair in the bathroom and then started messing with your hair. Of course, that sent you right back off to sleep but you remember asking him sleepily at some point why he was braiding your hair and he’d explained that it was to keep it from getting all messy while flying.

That’s the last thing you remember before he was suddenly kissing you awake and then your mind was busy with the delicious way he carried you back to bed and then heartbroken when he said you had only ten minutes more to sleep while he showered.

You’re so tired.

Smiling at the little girl, watching her own joy grow in her eyes gives you new energy and you take her hand and hold it in your two.

“It’s so lovely to meet you…?”

A woman hurries over from the crowd, voice frantic as she seems to have finally spotted her little escapee.

“RUBY!” The poor mother cries, hurrying to her daughter’s side.

“Ruby,” You repeat.

The little girl turns to look at her mother while you keep hold of her hand.

“Wook mama! A Ka-ween!” She giggles and her mother slows, hesitating now that she notices you and Thor.

“Holy shi-” Her mother says, “I’m so sorry.”

Hurrying forward, she takes hold of Ruby’s shoulders and pulls her close, not because she’s threatened by you two or anything. She must be shocked.

You let her hand go as it’s pulled gently, and Thor helps you stand back up. Once you’re standing, he reaches down to take hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It’s okay.” You shake your head, smiling at the woman as Ruby turns to hug her leg excitedly. “She’s very sweet.”

“She’s a troublemaker. That’s what she is.” The woman counters. “D-Do I have to curtsy or somethin’?”

“Not this time.” Thor tells her, “For having such an adorable child, we’ll give you the curtsy pass.”

He’s joking. Teasing the woman.

“Thor…” You nudge him and he chuckles, amused by you more than his joke. “What he means to say is, yes. Normally you would have to, but he knows I’m already nervous out of my mind so it’s okay.”

The woman looks around behind her, aware of the flashing camera phones and the videos they must be taking. So, she turns back to you and clumsily makes a curtsy.

Little Ruby sees her do it and then turns to you and does an even clumsier version of the same bow.

“Thank you.” You manage to say, voice almost completely deprived of volume from how nervous her attention makes you.

“Yes,” Thor agrees, suddenly serious. “Thank you. Both of you, for the warm New York welcome.”

“It was nothing.” The woman says, dipping down to pick up Ruby. “Say buh-bye, Ruby.”

As they walk away, Ruby twists in her mother’s arms to look over her shoulder at you and Thor and waves.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye, Ruby.” You wave at her, smiling at her cuteness before you look up to meet Thor’s gaze.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible.” Thor gives you a squeeze. “Just our luck that it was an adorable child to greet you first.”

“She was so cute!” You gush, wishing you could take her home.

Maybe Thor sees the deep want in your own face because he leans in and presses his lips to your temple before resting them softly against your ear.

“Don’t worry, cherub. Soon we’ll have our own little one running around the palace.” He promises.

Even though he means it in an innocent way, the deep tone and intent in his voice is also very clear and if there weren’t a lot of people watching, you’d pull him down for a kiss.

He smirks down at you, almost like he knows that you picked up on that lusty vibe despite his words being sweet.

“You’re not playing fair.” You complain.

Thor chuckles then gives the crowd, which has grown quite a bit, another wave.

“Something to look forward to when we go home.” He reasons.

“Will we get to do everything you want with this crowd around us?” You give them a look and tuck yourself into Thor’s side a little more but wave all the same.

All these eyes on you. Watching you. Listening to every little thing you say?

“I’ll make it possible, cherub.” Thor assures you.

He twirls his hammer, a near replica of the one his sister destroyed before they arrived on Earth and takes a step towards the crowd with the look of someone about to make a speech.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you look at yourself, you still look like you. Still wearing the dress you’d pulled on in the morning. Braids still in place.

Thor is still in full uniform. Still holding his hammer. But as the two of you walk through the city, no one stops to look.

After you and Thor had ducked into that first shop—a bakery that had lured him in by the nose because apparently the breakfast you’d cooked him hadn’t been enough—and emerged freshly fed, none of the people who had stopped to watch you when you'd landed were looking at you as you passed them.

Some of them even looked right at you then away as if they didn’t recognize you.

“It’s magic.” Thor whispers in your ear.

He straightens up, watching you with an amused grin as understanding overcomes your face.

“A trick my mother taught me that Loki has helped me perfect. Would you like us to see what they do? Our clothes, I mean? We’ll still see each other.”

“Sure.” You nod, excited by the proximity of magic to yourself.

Thor gives you a nod. He twirls his hammer, held loose in his right hand and it turns into an umbrella.

His clothes are neat and somewhat formal. More of a business casual with dark pressed trousers, a thick black t-shirt made of a heavy and soft cotton blend. His jacket is coal gray, with just the slightest hint of brown.

You gasp lightly, stunned by the sight of him with two electric blue eyes. No sleek black and gold eyepatch. Just two pretty orbs that blink at the shock on your face.

“What, love?” He worries, reaching down to place his hand on your lower back as the two of you continue down the sidewalk.

“Your eyes.” You shake your head, speechless.

“Oh, yes. Well, it helps me blend in.”

His blonde hair is styled too, a smooth wave of the longer hair along the top of his head. Why is he so pretty?

Thor chuckles.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He teases, still looking forward.

“I’m staring,” You huff a laugh. “I’m sorry.”

But you give yourself a look and find yourself wearing a chic black pantsuit. More heavy cotton blend fabric from head to toe. It has that waterproof sheen though. Like if you spill something it’ll just roll off. Black long sleeve shirt with a higher than normal collar. It’s just a few inches short of being a turtleneck.

Over that you’re wearing a sleeveless wool trench coat with big black buttons and large pockets. The cut is feminine and left open since it’s cold but not too cold during the day with the sun streaming down.

It’ll be different tonight.

“We have these actual clothes waiting for us at the compound. I had them sent over when Stark told me that I’d be able to bring you for introductions. We can change in my room once we’re there, so we won’t be as constricted.” Thor takes your hand to his lips and gives it a kiss.

“You have a room at the compound? Isn’t it like a military base or something?” You wonder.

“Parts of it. There is a shooting range and a hangar with plenty of planes and jets. A pretty large garage with quite the selection of cars. Maybe we can go for a drive after dinner for some alone time?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, but you’re still trying to wrap your mind around bedrooms at the compound.

“Do some of the Avengers live on the compound?”

“Yes.” Thor nods, his attention pulled away from his suggestive expression. “Several of them do. Wanda lives there. Captain Rogers, Natasha, Vision, Samuel and Barnes live there now too. Stark has moved out to be with Pepper on some cabin they purchased together a year ago.

“Barton lives with his family, so he doesn’t stay at the compound. And of course, for me it has been a home away from home. The only other person that stays there but doesn’t live there permanently is Banner.

“After we arrived from our journey in space, he took to his lab and slept at the compound for nearly six months before he finally went home. He hasn’t come back to the compound since. Says he’s working on something, but he’s promised to be here for our dinner.” Thor assure you.

Sad to say that you can’t exactly be as excited as he is as the list of names, he just went through looms over you like a test you didn’t study for.

Suddenly he stops, and he waves over at another tall blonde man with storm blue eyes and what looks to be a full beard. His slightly outgrown blonde hair is pushed back, the tresses smooth and silky as he hurries towards you both, brown leather bomber jacket zipped shut over a pair of jeans.

“Oh, you’re dressed up.” He says, but you recognize him and as Thor stops, you find yourself gaping at Captain America. “Maybe I should have picked something nicer.”

“Not necessary. You and the rest of the team are friends.” He takes Captain America’s hand and shakes it before they both meet in a quick hug.

“It’s been too long.” Thor admits.

“Well, you’re a busy man now. King and all that.”

“H-How did you recognize us?” You stutter, focusing on the mystery before you instead of the fact that Captain America is standing right fucking there!

“I let him see us.” Thor explains. “The veil holds only for those I want to shield us from.”

“Oh.” You whisper, not intending to but you have no air in your lungs again.

Thor seems to read your frayed nerves because he reaches around to wrap his arm around your waist and offer you some support.

“Captain Rogers, this is my lovely and very nervous wife, Y/N Y/L/N. Queen of Asgard and if I’m honest, the love of my life.” Thor’s honest gushing, the way he sounds honest and so freaking sincere brings you back to yourself a little and with a squeeze from him, you relax.

“Steve, Thor. Please. I’m not Captain America anymore.” He says, almost as if it’s a reminder.

This confuses you because as far as you know, Steve Rogers is still Captain America.

“I read the e-mail.” Thor says, shaking his head. “I thought perhaps it was a joke.”

“Since when have I ever joked about something this serious?”

“I don’t know, I thought perhaps you might have-”

Steve Rogers turns to you, ignoring Thor for the moment as he holds his hand out and slowly you take it.

“I know I should probably bow, but we don’t want everyone knowing who I’m talking to so, is a handshake okay?”

“Of course!” You say breathlessly as he shakes your hand softly. His grip is firm, but you can tell he’s very aware of not hurting you.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” He begins, then leans in towards you and whispers, “Your Majesty.”

Both of you are left smiling while Thor’s eyes are narrowed at the two of you.

“How do you find married life? Has Thor gotten on your nerves yet?”

You can tell he’s joking because while he’s talking to you, he steals a quick side-eye at Thor to gauge his reaction.

“Not yet. But he does like to eat all of the bacon.” You whisper.

Steve makes a pained look, directing it at Thor, still holding your hand in that gentle handshake.

“That’s a big no-no.” Steve agrees.

“Right?” You press, enjoying the pout on Thor’s lips.

“Alright, Rogers, release my wife’s hand.” He reaches and takes your hand out of Steve’s forcefully, but you and Steve only chuckle.

Thor pulls your hand up against his chest and with his other arm still around your waist, he’s basically got you wrapped up in his arms.

“Come on, everyone’s waiting.” Steve laughs, moving towards a black luxury sedan.

Thor makes to move forward but you pull back, resisting because meeting Steve Rogers was already stressful enough.

Now you have to go meet the rest of them? Can’t you just call it quits now?

“Cherub?” Thor looks at you, the concern pouring from him so overwhelmingly sweet that you give in.

He wants this so badly. It’s so important to him. You’ll also have to do many things from here on out that will make you anxious and stressed.

Suck it up.

“I’m just nervous.” You tell him, as if he can’t already see it himself.

“Thor?” Steve calls from the driver’s side of the car. He’s got the door open, both arms resting against the top of the vehicle.

“A moment, Steve.” Thor says, and for some reason it gives Steve a curious look on his face.

It’s almost as if he’s not used to Thor calling him by his first name.

“You have nothing to be nervous about, my love. You’ve already met Rogers and he’s like one of those dogs with the long ears and the funny long howl when it comes to sensing when anything’s amiss. Clearly, he likes you. You’re perfection, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about.”

Thor’s gushing should make you feel better, and it does a little. But you’re about to meet so many people. All of them important to Thor. What if you say something that makes one of them angry? What if you and one of them—or all of them—just don’t mesh well?

“I just-I-I don’t want to, I don’t know, disappoint you?”

Thor’s face falls into complete adoration. His smile is soft but wide and so pleased. He takes a step towards you, reaching up with both hands to place them on the back of your head, just behind your ears.

“You’ve already made me so proud, cherub. You’re here, standing with your head held high, greeting the people of a foreign country with grace and kindness. You’ve made jokes with one of my closest comrades already. I have every faith that you will continue to outshine me.” He chuckles as you relax a little more. “Do you need a few minutes?”

You shake your head, reaching up to take hold of his wrists. “No.”

“Ready?”

“Yes,” you nod.

Thor slips his hands down, flicking them gently so that he can take hold of both your hands.

He pulls them to his lips and kisses them, never breaking eye contact.

He must lose concentration for his magic because as he kisses your knuckles, his two eyes turn into one as the eyepatch takes its place again.

His regular clothes turn back into his armor and your own dress shifts back into the more Asgardian appropriate attire.

“Uh, Thor?” Steve Rogers insists.

Thor looks at him and with a nod towards his body, Steve Rogers communicates the problem.

You look around and people are stopping their shopping and walking and going about their days to turn and look at the two Asgardian monarchs suddenly standing on the sidewalk in a sweet and affectionate embrace.

“Oops.” Thor smiles at them and gives them a wave while simultaneously taking hold of your hand.

You follow his lead and give them a regal wave and polite smile as he pulls you towards the car. Steve Rogers is already there, holding the back door open for you.

You get in and he shuts the door as Thor moves around to the other side and gets in too.

“You distracted me.” He accuses you, reaching around you to pinch your side.

You give a small scream of laughter then look at the watching crowd with a startled and embarrassed smile, but they’re pleased by the exchange. Some of them taking video and photos. Others just giggling and laughing along with you.

There are a few young women and men who even look envious. And honestly? Who wouldn’t?

You look and Thor and as he chuckles at your reaction to his teasing and the reaction of those watching as Steve Rogers pulls the car away from curb, you can understand their envy because Thor is beautiful and anyone, even if in the end they decide they don’t want to be with him, would be lucky to share in his love.

~~~~~~~~~~

You made Thor promise to keep his hands to himself and you’re already regretting it.

You feel like you’re going to pass out. It’s all wobbly on your legs.

Knees are buckling and you might go down any second.

Thor takes an inch in your direction, but you give him a frown and he clears his throat before going right back to the spot he’d been in.

Both of you stand in a long common room. There are two modern armchairs in a gray almost beige cotton fabric. Two long sofas in an orange sandstone color sit completely occupied.

On the sofa to the right sit two beautiful red heads. One has short shoulder-length hair with pale blonde tips. The other’s long locks in a deeper less vibrant red fall to the base of her shoulder blades.

The brighter red headed woman has a sharp face, with large bright green eyes and eyebrows that start somewhat full on the inner corners and slowly fade into much thinner lines.

They’re perfectly shaped for her face though it does give her a sterner look.

She’s wearing a plain black dress with capped sleeves and a plunging V neckline. Her shoes are simple black flats though, which she taps against the floor as she waits for you to speak. Black Widow is just as fearsome as she looks in the news.

The other woman is much younger, her youthful face round. Her eyes are a pretty soft brown, more inviting though still a little distrustful. This must be Wanda, the Scarlet Witch.

It’s like she’s analyzing every move you make.

Fuck.

Beside her sits a man with peachy skin, short blondish-reddish hair. He looks older than her, but still handsome.

Despite the appearance of his older age, he has hold of one of Wanda’s hands. Fingers intertwined.

They’re together.

Vision, your mind provides.

On the other sofa sits Steve, his eyes kind as he waits patiently for you to be ready. Beside him sits a handsome black man with an exhausted expression.

You can tell that it isn’t directed at you, but he looks tired. Just home from doing some Avengers work, maybe?

Beside him sits a middle-aged man with small streaks of gray at his temples. His face is kind, but he seems like he’s preoccupied. Like he’s got places to be or things to do.

He keeps wringing his hands slowly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he watches you.

On the far armchair is the man himself, Tony Stark. He looks every bit a king in his domain, just like Thor back home in New Asgard.

He owns the place—literally—and everyone knows it just by watching him sit there. He’s inquisitive about you, his mind clearly racing from the look in his eyes.

He’s the most analytical out of everyone. He keeps looking at you from head to toe, every shift in your stance, the way you hold your hands, or the fact that you’re looking each of them over and making your own conclusions catches his attention.

The last person in the room, and the only other one standing aside from you and Thor, is a tall beefy man with shortly cropped dark brown hair. He also looks tired, and he reaches up to rub his exhausted face with his shining black arm etched with golden veins that run through the sleek indestructible metal.

Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier. Though most people still call him that, from what Thor said in your prep when coming is that he’s been fixed?

No, that’s not the right way to phrase that. He’s not a dog. He’s been deprogrammed.

You don’t quite understand what that means, but you realized as Thor spoke that Hydra had done something to Bucky to make him do the things that he’d done. Like brainwashing, though you know nothing about how one gets brainwashed.

It made you sad, that someone would be that cruel and take from someone their identity and all the things that make them who they are. You heart aches for the former Winter Soldier and he gives you the tinies of smiles. Just a soft and subtle gesture of encouragement.

All eyes in the room are on you, and you’re freezing up so you appreciate the figurative extended hand.

When you speak, your voice trembles at first.

“I-It’s so…I’m s-so…”

They stir, sitting up straighter at the sound of your voice.

Get it together! You’re Queen of an entire fucking kingdom!

You clear your throat, and with a quick shallow breath you try again.

“I’m sorry, I’m a l-little nervous. I know how important you all are to Thor and I-I know this was sudden. We were both really sorry that you couldn’t come to the wedding but I’m so glad to meet you now. My name is Y/N, and I…I think that’s it?”

Turning to Thor, you find him smiling wide, singular eye bright. He’s proud and you can see it in the way he pulls his shoulders back and moves back towards you, slipping his arm around your waist.

Both of you are wearing the real versions of his illusion now minus the coats, formal King and Queen garb abandoned in his room.

Thor’s arm is a welcome warmth.

“That was wonderful, cherub.”

“Cherub?” A snarky voice teases, and both of you turn to look at Tony Stark.

“Leave them alone, Tony. I’ve heard some of the things you call Pepper when you think we aren’t listening.” The Black Widow, Natasha, cuts in.

“Like what?”

“Pudding-pop?”

“That’s a good one.” Thor observes. “Can I borrow it?”

“All y’all being really gross.” The new Captain America, Sam, points out.

“You’re just jealous you don’t have your own pudding-pop.” Bucky sighs, moving to the back of the sofa to lean both hands on the seat and look down at his friend.

“When’s the last time you had someone call you pudding-pop, Barnes?” Sam wonders, a clear attempt at a jab.

“Uh…1943? Just after I enlisted.” He answers, no sarcasm or embarrassment about that fact.

“You both need to get a life.” Natasha points out.

“You first.” Sam retorts.

Natasha fixes him with a look of confusion before getting up and moving towards Bucky. For a moment it looks as if she’s just going to pass right by him and into the kitchen behind him, but instead she slips her arm through his metal one and leans against him gently.

“I’ve got one. Don’t I, pudding-pop?”

The silence that follows is heavy but with building energy.

Then the room explodes with exclamations of, “What?!”

“When did this happen?!”

“How long have you two been a thing?”

“Why?!”

With their attention diverted, you relax, leaning into Thor’s embrace as Natasha catches your eye and gives you a quick subtle wink.

“I thought we were gonna wait?” You hear Bucky ask Natasha over the cacophony of voices demanding information, all of them on their feet again too except for Steve who is smiling and hiding it behind his hand.

Obviously he already knew, and it’s also obvious that Natasha revealed her relationship with Bucky for your benefit and to make meeting you the secondary event of this get together and while some women would be pissed that she’s gone and stolen your spotlight, you could not be more grateful.

~~~~~~~~~~

A metallic shoulder rubs against the side of your head and you lean away, gasping because you hadn’t expected the sensation.

You’re greeted with a metallic mask, similar to those of Tony Stark’s Iron Man helmet with slight variations around the mouth. The color is also brushed silver, the body white and red. It shifts to the side a little, away from you but it tips its head down in apology like an old 18th century gentleman.

“I’m sorry. Please, excuse me while I collect your empty plates.” The robot says.

“Sorry about the A.I., Cherub.” Tony says, then gives a quiet whistle. “Hey Bud, why don’t you take the night off?”

Beside you, Thor chuckles at Tony’s new nickname for you. He’s done nothing but call you cherub since Thor did earlier in the night. It’s going to stick, or so Steve had promised.

The A.I. straightens up and puts the plates back down before moving off down the hall and out of sight.

“Bud?” Bruce Banner asks, who insisted you call him Bruce and drop the Doctor and the last name.

You have to keep reminding yourself to do so every time you talk to him. Because you can’t seem to remember, you’ve just chosen not to talk to him until you can.

Tony gets to his feet, moving around the table to lean over you, hand placed on his jacket to keep it from swinging against you.

“B.U.D.” He repeats, each letter on its own. “Buggy and Underdeveloped. I’m working on it. I’ve got their manners down. Jarvis quality though not as reliable. Vision is helping me work out the kinks.”

“I do what I can.” Vision says, Wanda reaching around to massage the back of his shoulders.

“You’ve made all the improvements. Tony had them calling us dickheads that one week before he asked for your help.”

“It was a typo!” Tony moves around to Natasha’s plate and piles it on top of yours, then Bucky’s who mutters a nervous thanks which Tony also mutters back a somewhat stiff approval.

You’re not given much time to notice their exchange before Thor’s hand finds your thigh under the table and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.” You smile at him, reaching down to take his hand. “Just surprised. I’ve never been around artificial intelligence of that caliber.”

“Don’t worry, Cherub. You’ll be used to it soon. You’ll be getting an upgrade at that pretty space cottage of yours pretty soon.” Tony says, grabbing a few glasses one at a time as he moves around the table.

“I’ll help you, Stark.” Thor suddenly says and releases your hand to move around the table and grab the other plates and glasses.

Why does he call him by his last name? Habit maybe?

“Thanks,” Tony nods.

“Space cottage?” You’re not sure what he means.

“Yeah, that big wooden house you all call a palace?” Tony clarifies.

“Oh,” Silly way to look at it. “There’s steel too.”

Tony smirks, “Well, I’ll be sending some people over to get a security system installed and an advanced satellite scanner to catch any movements that might come in from—up there. With this new threat that-”

Thor coughs loudly, dropping a glass that makes a terrible shattering glass sound against the black tabletop. Bucky catches the glass and holds it still then offers it up to him again.

Tony meets Thor’s singular eyed gaze who shakes his head minutely.

“-which I guess you’re not supposed to know? Whoops.” And with that he turns and leaves the room.

You look at Thor and find him watching you, then he quickly turns and follows Tony out of the room.

Whenever you’ve read in the past that someone sees red, you’d always suspected that it was metaphorical. However, you see red as your brain short circuits and all you can feel is a level rage.

The one thing you’d asked of Thor was that he won’t keep secrets from you and here is one, not even a week after your wedding!

“Don’t worry.” Natasha interjects, getting up from her seat. “When it’s worth knowing about, Thor will tell you. He just doesn’t want you to worry.”

Your frown only grows. You can’t seem to get your sudden temper flare under control.

“You’re upset.” Steve notices, getting up when everyone also starts to rise. “Why?”

You follow their example and get to your feet, pushing your chair under the table before following them into a smaller living room space just off the main common room while trying to quell your anger.

The living room is mostly white and gray with a long sectional that is full of red pillows.

“Because I’m Queen of New Asgard.” You point out, speaking a little more firmly than you mean to.

Steve gestures to the seat at the edge of the sectional and you take it, swallowing hard as you shove some of that upset down into your tummy so that you won’t lash out at the very nice people that Thor sees as family.

“You are.” Steve agrees. “No one would argue that you aren’t.”

Does he not get it?

“He might not want me to worry, but I have a responsibility to the people of New Asgard. If something is happening that might affect them, I need to know.” You cross your arms across your chest, huffing lightly and letting that be the peak of your temper.

You don’t want to fight with Thor here in front of everyone.

The reaction isn’t what you expect.

Sam, who is sitting on the floor at the bend in the sofa leaning against it as the weight of his sleepiness begins to take over, whistles.

Long and slow.

Bucky chuckles as Natasha settles beside him, her arms crossed across her chest as she leans back into his arm.

They don’t look together even if they are, just comfortable. Bucky’s arm curves a little more for her and is the only giveaway that there’s more between them than friendship.

She smirks. On the sofa beside you, Wanda leans forward to try and get a look at your pouting face, her red curtain of hair falling over her shoulder. Vision is standing by the TV looking at a collection of records to put on a turntable that sits ready and empty.

Dr. Ban-Bruce isn’t anywhere in sight.

Steve settles in beside Wanda but closer to Sam, leaving enough room for Vision to sit when he’s finished with the music.

“Thor said you had some bite.” Natasha shares, “Said something about you standing up for Loki? What’s that about?”

You feel your cheeks burn, neck too. With a shrug, you drop your arms and clutch at the fabric of your pants by your knees.

“Yeah, dude’s pretty psycho,” Sam adds.

“Sure, yeah, because a bunch of people dressing up in costumes and going around fighting crime and otherworldly forces are completely sane.”

Shit, did you seriously just say that?

There’s a beat of silence, then, “She sounds very sensible. Now that I’ve had some time with it, I think the cape might have been a touch too far.”

Everyone chuckles, and you turn to look at Vision who finally picks an album and slips it in place.

“Sorry,” You offer, hesitating a moment before you decide to explain yourself. “Loki has been nothing but kind to me. And calling him a psycho offends me. I know you all and the rest of the planet, have issues with him and what he did…so did I, but he’s trying. And he’s family now…like you all…so…”

Your words trail off as you turn to look for Thor, but you can still see him across the common room in the kitchen, exchanging hushed words with Tony and it’s starting to rile you up again. What’s coming? What’s so important that Thor has brought in the Avengers too?

“What did Thor call it?” Bucky asks Nat.

“Bite.” Steve tells him, “She’s got bite.”

“I’d say it’s more like a sting. But she’s right. I don’t think any of us here can judge someone by their past. At least I can’t.” Bucky nods.

“Or me,” Nat agrees.

“Or me,” Wanda smiles.

And then the music starts. Vision turns, hands behind his back as he also smiles at the general pleasantries.

“Taylor Swift?” Sam demands, “Really?”

Vision’s smile vanishes and he gives him nice wide eyes of surprise, “I’ve never heard this one before.”

“Excuse me.” You get up and move towards the kitchen, determined to get an explanation while the room behind you continues to argue the merits of Vision exploring different musical avenues.

“Whose album even is that?” Sam demands.

Steve clears his throat, “I think you should both get some sleep. I want a debrief first thing in the morning. I might not be Captain America anymore, but I’m still running this show.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, you’ve never accepted the boss mantle until now. Which other albums do you have in your room that you’re too afraid to share?” Nat adds.

“Hey, I have no shame in my musical taste.” Steve defends.

As you near the kitchen, the open spaces separated only by two large circular pillars and a sleek concrete counter island, you slow as their quiet conversation begins to reach your ears. It wasn’t necessarily that you’re trying to eavesdrop…but they’re not talking about what you expected them to be talking about. So, you freeze.

Too nervous to move, forward because what the hell? Or back, because they’ll no doubt hear your retreat.

Where’s the talk about threats to the kingdom and planet? No, you get a nice dose of fear and jealousy instead.

“You only knew her for a week before you married her?”

“It was arranged. All of you knew this. I explained it the last time we met.”

“I get that, but what-” You can hear the hesitation in Tony’s voice.

Despite the fact that he knows he probably shouldn’t bring it up, he throws his dishtowel on the counter and turns around to lean against it as Thor’s hands continue to sift through the dishes, washing them slowly. “What happened to Foster? Weren’t you two pretty hot and heavy? Last time you brought her here-”

“Jane has other priorities.” Thor cuts him off, clearly still hurt from his breakup with Jane.

You hate the sound in his voice. Why does he have to be so clearly heartbroken?

“That’s all I get?” Tony asks, waiting and leaning in a little closer to Thor.

“What else would you have me say? It was hard to leave her. And if I’m honest, I still find myself thinking about what life might have become if she’d been ready to settle down.”

What?

You take a step back, wanting to get away from this horrible conversation you wish you hadn’t accidentally run into. Retreat being heard be damned!

But then, “Cherub?”

It’s Tony, a smirk in his voice as he turns to help Thor dry the dishes he sets aside.

“She is my angel.” Thor smiles, just a teeny upturn at the corners of his lips as he steals a glance at Tony.

Your heart gives a painful clench at the love that you’ve been seeing in his eye pour through in his voice.

“A celestial creature sent to me by fate. I had no knowledge of the capacities of love. I’ve only ever found love as I found Jane’s. We were met by chance, and the attraction was clear and instant. Intention as well. With my cherub, things though they grew quickly, were harder to find. I had to look past my own melancholia to see that she was there waiting for me.”

“She does look like she’s completely lost it.” Tony nudges Thor aside because he’s taking so long and takes over the washing.

“I hope you mean lost her heart to me?”

“What else? Her mind? Though why anyone would agree to rule an entire country is beyond me.”

“She’s brave.” Thor boasts, body completely relaxed. “I’ve never known anyone with her courage. The first night of our engagement she demanded that I be honest with her, even if I decided to keep Jane as a mistress.”

Tony looks at him, eyebrow quirked as he asks a voiceless question.

“Which of course, is out of the question. I entertained the thought for a bit, I can’t deny it. At the very beginning as I was making my plans to go leave Jane, to end things permanently so that I could do right by Y/N and really try to make our marriage something lasting—I wanted to keep Jane at my side by any means necessary.

“Imagining a life without her was painful and I hate to admit that I had every intention in those last moments before I saw her to ask her to be with me even after I was married.” Thor confesses, sounding torn between guilt and desperation.

You remember seeing that desperation in him before he’d gone to see Jane.

Even after his proposal to you, even after those earth-moving kisses, he’d wanted to keep Jane at his side.

Of course, he did. You shouldn’t be surprised by that. He and Jane had shared so much before you came into the picture. Before you were forced in if you’re honest.

Still, it hurts, and you hate hearing it.

For a second time, you take a step back, wanting to leave.

But then, “What changed your mind?”

Thor sighs heavily, exasperated, exhausted by something.

He crosses his large arms across his chest, black shirt straining against his biceps and pecs. He’s so massive. Standing next to Tony only accentuates that fact.

“It took her two hours to make time to speak with me, and another three before she stopped explaining her work on energy spikes in some far East quadrant of space to let me even bring up the fact I was officially engaged to someone else.

“The only reason I was able to hold off for so long is that she would come and kiss me every twenty minutes to promise that she’d be done soon.”

You hate that.

“It was the waiting around after three months of having seen her last and six months since we’d been together. I just couldn’t stand the thought of that always being my life. As much as I loved her, I didn’t want to spend my marriage waiting for a woman when another had already assured me of her commitment to rule at my side as wife and Queen.”

“Is that the only reason you’re so into your Cherub? Because she obviously likes you?”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, “No, there are many things about Y/N that draw me to her. Most of them I’ve discovered since I made the choice to really let Jane go. When I came home that night, she was there to lure me back from the pit I’d crawled myself into by telling Jane goodbye.”

Tony stops washing to fix Thor with a knowing gaze. He scoffs then turns back to his washing.

“So, the sex is good, is what you’re saying?”

“The sex is very good. Incredibly good. I have no complaints about our physical chemistry. In fact, it’s better than with Jane or anyone else I’ve ever been with. I’m not sure what it is, but we are very well suited in the bedroom. She has such vigor, such desire. I am never in no doubt of her want of me. It’s so good that I almost didn’t want to bring her here because then I’d have to give up an entire day of having her to myself wrapped up in nothing but her bedsheets.”

“Alright, I think I get the picture.” Tony holds up one soapy hand to stop Thor’s bragging. “So, she sleeps with you and makes you feel better. Jane makes you wait, so you end it for good. Did you at least give her a proper goodbye?”

Thor is silent, and this time, you don’t want to know. You’ve already guessed and have been suspecting that this is very much the case, but you don’t want the confirmation.

If that’s what happened when he went to see Jane, you don’t want to know. Even if it happened before you two were married and really together, it happened when you were already in the picture and your heart was already being swayed.

Stepping out from behind the large round pillar, one hand resting against the smooth black curve, you watch Thor think about Tony’s question, tilting his head up to look across the room towards the living room space where the Avengers are now laughing about who the hell knows what.

He sees you and his face loses color.

“Thor?”

“What’s the matter?” He asks, a small bit of panic in his voice.

He moves towards you and you move towards him, meeting halfway.

“Did you hear?” He knows, probably because of whatever is on your face that’s making him panic.

His large hands are already pushing your numerous braids back, throwing them over your shoulders gently so that he can place his hands on your neck.

“Thor,” You repeat, this time getting a hold of yourself and reaching up to grab his wrists and pull his hands down away from your face. “What’s coming?”

This is why you’d come in here, and this is what you’ll insist on knowing. Fuck everything else they were talking about. You don’t want to know, and you don’t care what happened or what Thor felt before both of you exchanged vows.

“What?”

He seems stunned by the shift of topic, despite the agony that you’d momentarily been in. His voice even cracks a little, too shocked by the change.

“The new threat,” You clarify. “This new thing that we need satellites back home for? What is it? What’s happening? I know that you probably don’t want me to worry or want to protect me or maybe you’re still thinking of me as a civilian? But I’m Queen of our kingdom, Thor. If something is coming for us, I deserve to know. I need to know what’s coming if I’m going to help you protect our people. It’s my job and I can’t do it if you don’t let me.”

“Cherub’s got a point.” Tony adds, and claps Thor on the shoulder before gathering up a tray and makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the others with a bottle of beer for each of them.

“You’re right.” Thor nods, reaching to take your hands and he pulls them up to his lips kiss away the pain that he must have seen you feeling.

He seems to know though that you don’t want to focus on that and so he doesn’t bring it up.

You can tell he wants to though. He really wants to talk about what was just said in this kitchen.

“Yes, you’re right, you should know and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want you frightened or worried when you didn’t have to be, but you’re right. As Queen, you have every right to know what might be coming. But can’t we wait to talk about it until later? Tonight perhaps? When we’re alone?”

You don’t want to agree. You want to make demands of him and make him tell you everything right now. However, you also know that you’re a little angry about what you overheard and that’s probably why your pulse is pounding in your throat, heart ramming itself against your ribcage.

“Fine.” You huff then turn to move back into the living room.

“Hey,” He coaxes you back, voice low and deep so that the others won’t hear him.

He catches your wrist and pulls you back gently.

“Did you hear us? Because if you did, when I went to leave Jane I-”

“I don’t wanna know, Thor. If you slept with her, I don’t want to know.” You sigh, stomach clenching painfully. “You did what you have to do. It’s not like you and I fell in love in any kind of traditional way. We were forced together and now we’re married. I’m not stupid.”

“Of course you aren’t, and as true as all of that is, I don’t like the way you’re talking about it.” Thor agonizes, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer and further into the kitchen out of view of the others. “You’re acting as if I don’t love you, or as if it’s a farce. I love you, cherub. It happened quickly, but it is real.”

“I know that, Thor,” It’s nice to hear though, because you’re seriously feeling weak in the confidence you’d spent every night since your wedding building.

For a bit there, you’d believed wholeheartedly that Thor loves you. You still do…but the realities of Jane and how quickly he’d had to end that relationship with her because he had to marry you to give his people a Queen have been brought to light and ruptured the bubble of your new marital bliss.

It’s also suddenly very clear to you that he must still love Jane very much. Even if he loves you too. There’s no way he can move on this quickly.

“You don’t look like you do. You look sad and it’s putting knots in my stomach, love. Please don’t doubt me now.”

Fuck!

You lean forward, shoving your forehead against his wide chest. You wrap your arms around his waist and fist the back of his shirt as he brings his hands up to the sides of your head. You can feel his lips against your scalp, kissing against the large middle braid that goes down along the back of your head.

“This is so hard.” You admit, hating your jealousy.

“I wish I could take all of your strife.” He kisses your head again, an audible smack. “I’m sorry I’m the one making it for you.”

Both of you knew that this would be tricky.

“I swear to you, cherub, it’s only you. You are the only woman I want and the only being in the universe that I want to bear my children.” His words are full of truth and you look up at him to find that same honesty in his gaze.

It’s pained and sorrowful and you hate it.

“I shouldn’t have listened.” You pull yourself up against his body and push yourself up with puckered lips.

Eagerly he leans down to meet your lips with his own but he shifts his head to the side to deepen the peck you’d wanted to leave you in no doubt as to his devotion, or at the very least, his passion.

He leans down to wrap his arms around you and press you up against the side of the pillar.

“Thor…” You whisper when he pulls back to tilt his head the other way. “We’re guests here.”

The reminder cools him down and he places his hands on your hips instead while you tickle the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should get back to your friends.”

Thor sighs heavily, hating this idea, but he knows you’re right.

He reaches up to take hold of the back of your neck, squeezing it possessively before he leans down to give you one more quick kiss.

“Tonight, I will leave you in no doubt as to my devotion and love. I promise.”

His declaration takes your breath away, and apparently Bruce’s too as he sputters a cough around his own beer as he freezes on the other side of the kitchen by the fridge where another large round pillar lines a different entrance opposite the side you’re both standing on.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Bruce says, reaching up to wipe at the beer dribble around his mouth.

Thor takes his hands back and you slip out from between him and the pillar then make your way back towards the living room feeling flushed.

As you walk back in, observing the room, Steve and Vision are currently playing an apparently rousing game of Connect Four on the floor while Nat and Bucky sit cuddled up on the far corner of the sectional, talking quietly but also giving the two battling on the floor the occasional glance.

Wanda is on her phone, typing away quickly with a beer held between her thighs. Sam is standing by the records, despite his previous griping, nodding his head as Taylor Swift’s 22 fills the space.

Tony is on his own phone, standing in the far corner of the room with a sappy smile on his own face which tells you he’s probably talking to his own wife, Pepper Potts, who couldn’t make it tonight due to a work engagement.

All of them have a beer around them or in hand, and as you make your way towards the bend in the sectional feeling a little like you’re intruding, just as your back hits the sofa a cold bottle meets your cheek.

You jump a little but turn to look and Tony holds out a sealed bottle for you.

“You okay with import? Or do you want domestic?” He asks, holding his phone to his shoulder, brows drawn together as he waits for your answer.

“This is fine, thanks.” You take the bottle and then give him a quick smile.

“Good, because then I’d have sent you down to get your own.” He assures you, but a voice from his phone calls his name and he hurries away again, phone pressed to his ear.

You look at the bottle of beer in your hands, wondering if the top is a twist but when you go to turn it the ridges hurt your hand and you stop instantly.

Just as you’re about to lean over and ask Bucky to open the bottle for you, the sectional dips beside you and heat envelops your shoulder and side as Thor sits right beside you.

“It sounds like excuses to me.” He says, looking at Bruce who sits down beside him with a bit more space allowed between them.

“It’s not an excuse,” Bruce insists. “I’m working on something that needs all of my concentration. I’ll come visit soon, I promise. I’m going to be coming with Tony for the security system installation so, I’ll get to see the palace then.”

“Thor?” You hold the bottle up for him and he takes it from you, kissing the side of your head before he simply flicks the top with his thumb and it flies off and falls right on Steve’s head.

“Hey,” He complains, but then gets distracted as Vision connects his four red chips.

“I win.” Vision declares.

“Damn,” Steve concedes. “You got me. Go again?”

Vision dumps the chips, and they start splitting them up.

“Here you are, cherub.” Thor hands you back your beer, and you take a quick drink before settling in against Thor’s side a bit more comfortably as he gives you a squeeze but continues to chat with Bruce.

#king!thor x reader #thor x reader #arranged marriage au #royal au #a wife for thor #king!thor x reader fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfic #king!thor x reader fic #king!thor xyou #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #thor x you #thor odinson x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #a wife for thor pt12

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silkling · 3 years ago

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This is part three of an ask box fic. For part one or two, click below.

Part 1 Part 2

———————————————————————————————————

There was shocked silence, and then Dani put a hand on his cheek. “So twins are one spark that was split by the Well, and gestalts are many Sparks that were merged by it?”

Blades paused, then nodded. “Yeah.” he whispered.

“So you have brothers then? How many?” Kade asked.

Blades swallowed. “Four.” he wrapped his arms around himself. The others could tell something was wrong, they just didn’t know what. “Hot Spot, Streetwise, Groove, and First Aid.”

“Soooo…..where are they? What happened to them?” Kade asked bluntly.

Blades flinched, looking away. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Dani seemed confused. “Don’t you have a spark bond with them, like Dreadwing was saying?”

“I…do.”

“Then how-“

“Stasis.” Chase cut her off, sounding horrified. “We were in stasis. I do not know much about spark bonds, but I do remember reading that stasis is another way to mute a bond. We were in stasis for thousands of years, and after Cybertron fell, they probably fled far away.”

Blades swallowed. “If they’re even still alive.” he closed his optics. “The stasis, combined with the distance, would have muted the bond enough for the breaking of it not to kill me if they’d died. In stasis, I wouldn’t have even felt it break.” He opened his optics to meet the gazes of his teammates, optics wide and welling with cooling fluid. The forces of his emotions were so strong it was making his frame overheat, which caused his optics to leak the fluid in an attempt to cool him down. “All I know is, I woke up from stasis after the crash and I couldn’t feel them anymore. I felt them before we went into stasis. We were too far to communicate with words, but they sensed how scared I was and they just kept sending me worry and reassurance.” he whimpered. “But when I woke up I didn’t even have that. I don’t know where my brothers are or if they’re even alive. That’s what really hurts.”

There was a long beat of silence, and then Dani was pressing herself to his face to hug him. “Oh, Blades.” she said, sounding so pained and sad.

Blades felt a hand on his back, and looked up to see Dreadwimg staring at him, a knowing look in his optics. “I’m truly sorry, little one. At least when I was separated from my brother, I could use the bond to tell he still lived.”

Blades could only whimper again, and then his team was gathering around him. Dreadwing stepped back to give them space, and he watched at the small, odd little family came together to comfort the distressed flyer.

Blades just shook, forced to finally confront the reality of the situation. He hadn’t let himself think about it, before now. Now really. But he’d finally been forced to and he wished he hadn’t. He just wanted his brothers back. He missed them. He didn’t protest as Boulder gathered him close, and instead curled in to take the comfort his teammates were offering. Eventually, he exhausted himself, and he slipped into a light recharge, dreaming of days long past.

——————————

Another week passed, and they’d finally contacted Optimus. The Prime had in very brief details explained something about a fight for the restoration of Cybertron, before agreeing to come talk with Dreadwing. They had indeed talked when he’d arrived at the island, and the Prime had agreed with Dreadwing’s continued presence here as long as the Burns agreed, and as long as the Seeker informed him before leaving Griffin Rock. Dreadwing had agreed to those terms, and the Prime had taken his leave once more.

Now, the Seeker was finally fully settled in the little bunker. It wasn’t an impressive space, but he wouldn’t be picky. Currently, it was late night, and the humans were asleep and the younglings in recharge. Or at least, most of them were. The little copter was missing. Dreadwing had noticed how he’d seemed more withdrawn ever since he’d confessed to being gestalt. The Seeker couldn’t blame the poor mechling, not really. So, when he realized the little bot was missing, he only sighed and went to search for him.

He found Blades in the courtyard by the firehouse, sitting on the ground and staring at the stars. He sat himself next to the youngling, frowning. “You should be recharging, little one.��

Blades looked at him, then back up. “I can’t. I keep remembering.” he sounded miserable.

Dreadwinf sighed. “Tell me, then. What is is that scares you more: holding on to hope that your brothers still live, or believing in the chance that they have been offlined?”

Blades flinched. “I don’t know. Both hurt.” he whispered. “Dreadwing, the last thing they ever felt from me was fear. What if they thought I was being hunted and killed like the other off world Rescue Bot teams? I asked Optimus when he was here. I know the Rescue Force massacre happened a only about an orn after we went into stasis.”

Dreadwing stilled, considering. That was a very likely scenario. “I do not know what they thought.” he said honestly. “Perhaps they did believe that. Perhaps they held o to hope that you escaped and searched for you. Perhaps they search for you still. Perhaps they were offlined in the War.” he sighed. “I cannot give you the answers, little one. Cybertron’s children are scattered, and I would not know where to tell you to begin searching, even if I knew for certain they were alive.”

Blades whimpered, and Dreadwing wasn’t surprised when the youngling turned to curl into his side. The Seeker draped an arm over the shaking shoulders and quivering rotors, holding the mechling close as he grieved. He wished he could help Blades more, but the truth was that he couldn’t. No one could. Blades would have to decide how to handle this himself.

As the youngling shook against his side, Dreadwing lifted his own gaze to the stars.

Can you see me, Skyquake? Would you approve of this? I would hope so. These mechlings need proper guidance, and the Prime refuses to give it. Starscream can wait. I hope you can forgive me for making you wait for your vengeance.

Blades hiccuped against him, curling even tighter against his side, and Dreadwing gently petted the trembling rotors. Slowly, the smaller flyer relaxed, until he had eventually slipped into recharge while tucked into the Seeker’s side.

Dreadwing stared at him for a long moment, then left out an breath of a chuckle and turned his gaze back up.

Primus, I’ve gone soft.

———————————————————————————————————

Holy crap it’s done. I finished it. I hope my asker is happy. That was a monster and a half. It was fun to write, and I very much enjoyed it, but dear god was it long. My muse kept screaming ideas at me the whole time. Seriously you have no idea.

Also, can you all tell Blades is my favorite? Can you tell? Because he is. I adore him. I hope you don’t mind that I included the Protectobot Blades idea in. I’ve seen it floating around a few other places before now, so the idea isn’t originally mine, but I really like it and I think it fits with his character, so here we are.

With that done, I’m off to finish my next ask box prompt. It should be up in the next couple days. It will be nowhere as long as this one. In fact, most ask box fics will even get two posts long, so don’t get used to this.

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yoonsshadow · 4 years ago

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ETERNAL - i

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; murder, death, violence, blood, guns, burnt bodies, nudity [nonsexual], nightmares, drugs? [sleeping pills], a bunch of boys being in love

➳ word count ; 4.8k

➳ note ; I watched The Old Guard on Netflix [a serious recommend if you haven’t already seen it] and got hit with major inspiration. Nothing better than found-family and immortal soulmates. I put of a lot of time, effort and love into this, so please treat it with delicate hands. And please, please, give me feedback if you like it. Thank you, and enjoy :)

They have done this before, enough times—too many times—to be familiar with the routine.

The nightmares, all too vivid and yet frustratingly vague, of blood and pain and death. Glimpses of a face they have never seen, memories that do not belong to them. The lingering thoughts of why another, why now, why at all?

They have done this many times, and yet it never gets easier, never makes sense.

⎯⎯⎯

When they submit to the clutches of slumber, it is beneath the glowing moonlight that shines through the broken ceiling of an abandoned church. Overgrown with vines that hold the crumbling walls together and hidden behind bushes and weeds and shadows, this building will be safe, for them. For now. It may not provide much warmth, or much shelter, but it gives them a sense of anonymity that they so desperately depend on. Right now, it hides them from the world. They are nothing but each other’s, so long as they are here.

Usually, sleep brings peace. Long ago did they learn how to banish demons from their dreams, memories of pasts both true and terrible, and so through sleep they find temporary solace from the demands of their long lives. They hold each other in their warm arms, forget about their worries if only for a brief moment. They are but seven men, seven soulmates, seven loves, existing together without burden.

Until tonight.

It is familiar, the weight that descends upon their chests, pushes against their rib cages. An invisible force both squeezing them and pulling them apart, flooding them with vague images, sounds, feelings. In sleep, they hold each other tighter, safer, but they cannot escape the myriad of memories and thoughts that fill their minds.

A pair of eyes, so brown that they are pure, so dark that they are nearly black, blink at them as sweat begins to shine upon their skin. These eyes are young, but they hold wisdom, maturity, that can only come with death. Witnessing it, causing it, experiencing it. These eyes are filled with desperation in this moment, but also a stubborn determination; they know what is coming, and yet they will continue to fight until their dying breath, as they vowed⎯⎯

⎯⎯a uniform, black, stained with dirt and blood, without any identifying marks. No dog-tags, but a tan line around a soft neck where they would normally hang. Trained muscles behind firm fabric, knowledgeable fingers clutching a military assault rifle. Steel-toed boots, scuffs through the polish, dirt in the seams and drops of red in the laces⎯⎯

⎯⎯heart beating through chest, adrenaline spiking, but something’s wrong, this isn’t supposed to happen, how did they know we were coming? Need to get out, need to get to cover, need to save⎯⎯

⎯⎯the enemies found them, caught them, have them, bound and bloodied in a dark cave or dungeon, they can’t tell. Chains rattle against stone where bodies shift for comfort, but no comfort can be found for bleeding wounds, broken bones, bruised skin. Eyes connect, know they’re saying goodbye, can’t speak but wish they could say something, apologise, curse, plead, pray. By the time footsteps stomp their way in, handgun cocked and aimed at their foreheads, they have already accepted that⎯⎯

Gasps echo in the silence as seven bodies jerk awake, trembling and sweating and aching with pains that another is experiencing. Their minds are still clouded, submerged within their dreams, but they know this routine. They know what they have just seen.

Hands scramble beneath their makeshift bedding as they reach for their journals, their pens, and begin to scribble whatever details they can remember ⎯ eyes, blood, pain, death. They’ve all clung to different images, and they desperately remember everything they can before it washes away with their wakeful clarity.

“I saw, um, eyes,” chokes the youngest, his pencil already sketching the eyelashes with careful precision. “Brown, dark. Looked like a girl’s.”

“She had to be military,” says another. “Maybe special forces? No insignia on the uniform and dog-tags were taken off. Black-ops?”

“I saw a glimpse of a scar on her hand. Might help to identify her.”

“There were others, too; a team. I have a feeling she was the leader.”

“It was a rescue operation, but I don’t think they succeeded. The enemies saw them coming. She was confused as to how.”

“Did you see the gun she was shot with? That’s military grade. It was either supplied by somebody on the force, or they were the force.”

“God, I have a headache.” Seokjin rubs his temples, a pain lingering behind his eyes but never ceding. “Never thought after three-hundred years that we’d get another one.”

Arms curl around him, a sigh breathed into his neck. “Me too, hyung.” Jeongguk nuzzles closer, finds comfort in the warmth of his lover’s broad shoulders. “I feel sorry for her. Now she’s going to have to deal with this too.”

“Hey, what did I say about pessimism?” Namjoon’s pointed look is directed towards the youngest, but the words are for everybody to hear. A reminder. “Our lives may be long, and hard, and difficult to deal with at times. But we have the opportunity to help people, to affect change, and, most importantly,” his eyes soften, “to have each other.”

“Wah, hyung’s going soft on us,” Taehyung grins, leaning his head on Namjoon’s shoulder.

Behind him, Jimin clings around his torso like a koala. “Yeah, those are big words for somebody who so often tells us how insufferable we are,” he agrees.

Sitting up, Yoongi joins the conversation with a voice still deep with sleep. “That’s because you are insufferable. But that doesn’t mean that hyungs love you any less. Eternal life would be extremely dull if we didn’t have you annoying us constantly.”

Taehyung and Jimin smile at each other, eyes glittering with something devious, and something close to love. “You all just bore witness to that,” Jimin says, pointing at Yoongi. “You all heard him say that, so you can’t yell at us for being annoying ever again!”

“Free pass!” Taehyung agrees.

Hoseok, still lounging his head in Yoongi’s lap, rolls his eyes. “Yoongi-hyung said it, but none of us did, so we can, and will, still yell at you.”

The two pout, but question it no further. They could spend centuries arguing over petty things⎯have, regrettably⎯but they’d much rather get along. For now, forever.

“Hyungs,” a small voice whispers into the silent air, drawing attention to where the maknae still hugs into Seokjin’s back. He’s pouting, and they want to coo at him, but his next words break them out of their reverie of adoration. “What about the girl?”

Your ears are ringing when you finally wake, images of your nightmares still clinging to your mind, so vivid, so real. They were filled with pain, and fear, and the bloodied faces of your soldiers as they were shot one after the other. You remember screaming for them, pleading, hoping against hope that they’d listen. But, instead, you had watched them die.

You hope that you didn’t scream aloud, didn’t wake your team. They deserve the rest, even if you couldn’t have it.

Muscles stiff and aching from a restless slumber, you shift in your cot, move to adjust the blanket. But your cot is harder than you’d like, your blanket out of reach. In fact, you can’t move your arms at all.

When your heavy eyelids finally open, you realise why your dreams had felt so real.

The stench of blood and death is so thick in the air that you can taste it, that bitter tang against your tongue bringing bile up to the back of your throat. Your body isn’t just sore, it’s screaming; it’s as though you can feel your muscles re-knitting together after being torn apart. And maybe it’s panic that crushes against your lungs, constricting your airways, or maybe it’s grief.

Because as soon as your eyes land on the dead bodies of your teammates, you can’t breathe.

Your throat is so sore from screaming and crying that the sounds escaping it are torn and scratchy, but you can’t hold them in. Not when you see your friend’s brain splattered over the wall behind her; not when you see your second-in-command holding her hands together, mid-prayer when the shot was fired.

You sob, and yell, and cry out until your throat is raw, and then when you have no voice left, you continue. You may not be dead yet⎯and for what reason, you don’t want to know⎯but you don’t think that you’ll ever truly live after this. How does one move on from their friends, their family, being slaughtered before their very eyes? How does one process the fact that they were left behind?

Through the crushing weight on your chest and the searing pain in your throat, you hear footsteps approaching. The heavy boots do nothing to hide their owner’s steps, impatient and strong, but you can’t find it within yourself to be afraid. The worst thing they can do is torture you some more, maybe even kill you, but you’d welcome death at this stage; you’d welcome reprieve from the sorrow that threatens to swallow you whole.

It’s a man, unsurprisingly, who walks through the mouth of the dark cave, ugly face covered by a mask pulled up to his eyes. He looks at you, something in his half-hidden expression that you don’t have the energy to place, and then says something in a language that you cannot understand.

Heaving a breath and swallowing blood, you meet his sharp eyes. “I don’t understand you.” Your words scratch their way out, hardly discernible, so you try again. “I won’t tell you anything, so just kill me and get it over with.”

This time he shouts, still angry but this time not at you, though he never tears his gaze off your crumpled figure. Like if he blinks, you may disappear.

Once again, hurried and heavy footsteps make their way into the room, a pair of men joining their comrade. These ones are holding guns. You can’t find it within yourself to flinch.

More foreign words are thrown at you, some that seem like questions, but your mind is too rattled, head too sore, to even try to comprehend what they might want from you. Your shoulders ache from where your arms are secured behind you, and your legs ache from hours⎯maybe days?⎯of disuse. So you sigh, level what you hope is a glare towards the two newcomers, and repeat, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Looks exchanged between them, hesitation, and then, “You should be dead. Why are you not dead?”

In a moment of weighted silence, you try to determine if they’re serious. Because surely they aren’t asking you how you are alive while being held captive by them. But they don’t elaborate, so you’re left with an even greater migraine than before. “Are you fucking serious?”

The expletive makes them simultaneously point their rifles at you, and this time, you do stiffen. You may be feeling slightly suicidal right now, but you also have reflexes.

“I don’t know why I’m alive.” The admission is spat from between your teeth, reluctant and bitter. “Why don’t you ask whoever it was that killed the rest of my team?”

“I killed your team,” one of them says. The first one. Without a gun, obviously having thought there would be no threat in entering this dungeon. “I killed you, too, shot you in the head myself. So tell me again. Why are you alive?”

“Maybe you’re a bad shot,” you reply. “How am I to fucking know why you let me live? Now do me a favour, will you? Either let me go or shoot me for real this time.”

You don’t have time to register the sound of the gunshot before the bullet goes through your forehead.

“Anything?”

A sigh is the only response that Namjoon receives.

“Alright,” he continues, “what do we know for sure about her?”

“Honestly, hyung?” Jimin looks up from the laptop he’s perched at. “I don’t think we even truly know if it’s a woman. We saw her⎯their⎯eyes, but not much else. Like, sure, we think it’s a woman, we’re pretty sure of it, but nothing’s certain. The visions were really vague this time around.”

“He’s right,” Yoongi agrees, never looking up from the screen of his own computer. “I’ve been searching the military databases, but it’s hard to pinpoint covert operations that don’t technically exist. We didn’t get a dog tag number, or an insignia, or even an idea of which country’s military she’s in. I hate to say it, but we might just need to wait until tonight. Get some more pieces of the puzzle.”

This is what Namjoon was afraid of, not that he was expecting anything else. His boys are good, but even they can’t work miracles.

“I feel sorry for her,” Jeongguk hums, cheek pressed into the couch cushion where he’s taken a rest from research. Not that he ever really started; that was always his hyungs’ strong points. “I mean, she’s all alone right now, probably really confused, really scared. I know I was before you all found me.”

That sentence strains their hearts, makes them pause. Jeongguk had been alone for nearly a decade before they had finally found him, lonely and of unsound mind, unaware of the curse he’d been unwillingly given. They’d spent years helping him heal, helping him accept, and now they can proudly say that he is stable and content. Happy, even, sometimes.

You, however. You are in the exact same place that he was. Maybe worse, they don’t know.

Taking slow steps towards the couch, Hoseok gently lifts Jeongguk’s legs to place them on his lap when he sits. He feels the strong calf muscles beneath his fingers as he strokes the uncovered skin, bare only for their eyes, until the young one has relaxed his worried muscles.

“I know it’s hard, Jeongguk-ie,” Hoseok says, voice just above a whisper, soft and yet sure. “I know that we all want to find her as soon as possible, but we can’t just yet. Hopefully the next dream will give us more, but until then, we just have to stay focused. Let’s not get lost in that mental spiral, okay?”

Jeongguk hums, not fully sated with the answer but understanding nonetheless. “M’kay, hyung.”

The comfortable silence in the room following their conversation doesn’t even stretch five minutes before a figure slams into the building, flourishing his arms and announcing his arrival enthusiastically.

“We’re back, bitches!”

Seokjin follows behind Taehyung, closing the church doors after the younger had slammed them open and looking exhausted. “Taehyung chatted with the cashier for half an hour before he even asked for help. We could have been back hours ago.”

“Hey.” Taehyung directs a look at the oldest. “Her outfit coordination was unlike anything I’ve seen this century. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s as old as Hoseok-ie hyung!”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Hoseok asks Seokjin, who is smiling despite himself.

“Definitely a compliment. I’ll admit, she reminded me of that one fashion mogul we knew in Paris. The one...Jimin, you know the one I’m talking about. Red hair, lazy eye?”

“It wasn’t a lazy eye, hyung,” Jimin corrects, “she was just keeping an eye out in all directions.”

“Yeah, anyway,” Seokjin says, “none of that matters. We got the stuff. Took a while, but we got it.”

Taehyung empties his plastic shopping bag onto a wiped-down old table, cardboard boxes falling onto the surface. “I’ve got to say, modern medicine is pretty ground-breaking. I wish we were smart enough to have invented it earlier.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Yoongi asks, sounding a lot less interested than he actually is. “I wouldn’t think that sleeping pills would affect us.”

At this, Namjoon bites his lip. “Usually, I’d agree with you, but I’ve been doing some thinking. If the pills aren’t hurting us, our bodies shouldn’t heal too quickly; they should still have time to take effect. Just like how we can get drunk but not have liver issues, or smoke but not get cancer.”

“But smoking’s still gross,” Jeongguk mumbles.

“So,” Hoseok ponders aloud, “if we take the pills, it should prolong our sleep so that we can lengthen the dream? Do you think it’ll work?”

“We’ve never been able to test it,” Namjoon shrugs. “The worst thing that could happen is our body processes it quicker than it works, and we have a normal night’s sleep with normal visions. It’s worth a shot.”

“I think a few of us should not take the pills,” Seokjin says. “That way, if the pills really do work, some of us can still wake up normally in case of an emergency.”

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. “Okay. We’ll rock-paper-scissors it tonight. Until then, let’s rest.”

The second time you wake up, you are significantly less disorientated. You know where you are, what has happened and, most importantly, that you should definitely be dead.

You’d seen the gun, heard the click, felt the bullet spilt through your skull. You know what a killing shot is, have dealt a few yourself, so you know that you should not be opening your eyes to an intense headache right now.

An acrid odour drifts through your dazed thoughts, a stench so strong, so unpleasant, that bile immediately rises and spills from your mouth. You don’t have much to vomit, so you spit mostly water and stomach acid onto the ground beneath you as you wretch from your aching throat.

No, not the ground. Something far worse.

When the tears from your eyes clear away and you look to the ground, you see what is digging into your skin, jabbing at your muscles; you aren’t sure why, or how, but you are lain across a pile of bones and scraps of cloth, sizzling flesh still warm to the touch and sticking to you in chunks. You are atop a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and soaked to the bone with the reeking smell of charred flesh.

Your stomach is empty, and so you can only scramble from the pile and retch.

For several minutes, all you can do is allow your body’s attempt to empty itself on the ground. Even more so than before, your mind is overwhelmed with thoughts and questions and worries, most of which lead to the fact that you are lying naked in the middle of a desert, next to a pile of burnt bodies, unharmed and somehow alive.

You are at least thankful that you are already lying on the ground when you faint.

There are seven pairs of eyes⎯brown, warm⎯that look at you, look at each other. Words remain unspoken, for the pupils reveal every thought, every emotion. I care for you deeply, they say, now and forever. The words are not meant for you, not yet, but they feel familiar. As if you have heard them in every past life⎯

⎯Surrounded by trees, a sight which would usually calm you but now only acts as a hindrance, you run through the familiar forest without grace. Bare feet bleed trails of red through the undergrowth, sore arms never dropping the heavy weapons that slow you down so. You should not be alone, never usually are, but now you are accompanied only by your panic and the wolves that chase you. These ones, however, do not howl or gnash their feral jaws; they calculate, the way only a human can⎯

⎯Metal hangs heavy around your lithe neck, skin raw and bleeding beneath its unrelenting grip. Fingers grab into your filthy hair, knotting into your bun. Worthless piece of filth, growls a man. You are not unfamiliar with his tone, nor his insults, though this is the first time you have felt a glob of saliva being spat onto your cheek. Can’t even follow the basic rules. Somebody really ought to make an example of you⎯

⎯This room is bright, brighter than the last, and yet somehow glooms darker than all. Shadows hang heavy in the corner where invasive eyes hide, but you can look only to the man who sits in front of you, posture relaxed despite the tensity that thickens the air. Go on, he taunts as you are shoved to your knees, the pain nothing compared to the fear that fills you at the sight of the executioner’s sword. Show us that smile of yours. Grant the world one more. Grant him, he nods towards another figure who you refuse to meet gazes with, one last dazzling grin. You do not, but you do whisper an apology under your breath, one that will never be heard⎯

⎯Gold silk hangs from your broad shoulders, the fabric draping gracefully down your tall body. Each detail stitched into the delicate robe sparkles in the candlelight, patterns that tell stories of love and power and beauty. Jeonha, somebody says to you, a face that is hidden from your view. I am sorry for this, Jeonha. Gold silk soon turns crimson when the knife plunges into your back. You are not even allowed the courtesy of looking into your killer’s eyes⎯

⎯You had always thought that you would live longer, survive the odds set against you, but you know now, as your mother tends to the gash carved into your chest, that this time, luck is not your benefactor. It is not so bad, she assures, though you know the look in her eyes, see the light in them dimmed with grief of a life not yet lost. You wish to tell her everything, anything, but the words bubble up in your throat and you struggle to spit them out. She knows, though, you can see that she knows, and her calming hand rests over your heart, which beats slower and slower with each moment. I love you, my sun, my son. Rest well. Her hand grows cold, or maybe that is you. For you no longer feel, no longer worry, only close your eyes and fall⎯

⎯Urgency pumps your blood faster, the sound echoing in your ears, as your weeping eyes search around you. Nothing, not the chaos around you nor the wound in your shoulder, can stop your wobbly legs from moving, not when you have to find him. There you are, comes his voice from behind you, and you turn so quickly that you become dizzy. But he is there, wounded yet alive, and he is offering you a smile that you struggle to return. You fall into his arms, he into yours, hold each other with all the strength that you have. And when an arrow pierces through your heart, spearing through his chest, you are connected even when you fall, lifeless⎯

This time, you wake with a gasp and a speeding heart, images so vivid still lingering in your mind. Your chest is still sore where your heart lies, the organ heavy with another’s grief, and you are surprised to find yourself covered in your own tears.

Still in the dirt, still nude, still alive, and still confused, you know that the only way to survive is to keep moving. Memories of dreams that had felt so real may plague your mind for a while, but you cannot dwell. You have had nightmares before, strange and also plausible ones, and you know. You know that to submit to the darkness of your own mind is a death sentence in itself. So you stand up, dust off your bare skin, and begin walking in an unknown direction.

You only cast one glance back at the bodies behind you. Your team, in all probability. Your friends. You are leaving them in the middle of nowhere.

This, too, you do not allow yourself to dwell on. Not now. Not yet.

Though the night has long since begun, darkness creeping into every corner of the room, one figure lies awake, thinking. Listening.

He is selfish, he supposes, for choosing not to sleep in a time when it can be so important. He should be allowing the visions to greet him, remembering the details, soaking it all in. Instead, he blinks away his exhaustion in exchange for wandering thoughts. He is not ready to allow another’s memories into his mind; for his to enter their’s. He has unwillingly revealed his sins to far too many already.

Hoseok is afraid. And he is tired.

Around him, his six loves breathe deeply, bodies relaxed in slumber and minds lost to the visions of their eighth soul. Some stir, occasionally, and he is sure he’s heard one of the maknaes whimper, but all is otherwise silent.

He would die a million painful deaths just to ensure that they could maintain this peace forever. He supposes he has, already. But he doesn’t regret it. Not for them.

Though the silence is calming, it also beckons his eyes closed and his mind into darkness. So, in an attempt to battle the tantalising call of sleep, he rolls over, stands up, and quietly sneaks out of the crumbling building they’ve taken shelter in.

The air outside nips at his skin, prickling goosebumps down his back and arms, but it is always chilly at this time of year, in this part of Europe. He forgets which country they’re in. Possibly close to France, but likely somewhere in Italy. He can smell salt in the air, the ocean not far away.

Yes. Italy.

Through thick undergrowth and overgrown weeds he wanders, mind idle and busy all at once. His feet take him around the perimeter of the area⎯a consequence, he supposes, of living a paranoid life⎯but his thoughts are elsewhere. On a girl he has yet to meet. On you.

How will you react, he wonders, to this life? To them? Through the brief flashes he has seen of you, you are a woman who seems steadfast, capable, and determined. But he’d also seen your team; felt the love you hold for them. Will you be able to part from the life that you can no longer lead? Will you eventually accept them as your new family?

There are too many questions, too many things to worry about. This is why he doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching him from behind until two arms wrap around his shoulders.

“You should be asleep.” The words are whispered beside his ear, warm breath fanning down his neck. He shivers, but doesn’t respond. “What’s wrong? Let me help.”

Hoseok sags into the strong embrace, allows the arms to tighten around his chest, and sighs. “I’m worried, Namjoon.” Namjoon hums, doesn’t say anything. “Is it selfish of me to not want to see her memories? To not want her in my head?”

A pair of plump lips kiss the tip of his ear. “Perhaps,” Namjoon says. When Hoseok stiffens, he pulls him closer. “But being selfish is not necessarily a bad thing. You are allowed to prioritise yourself every once in a while.” Namjoon can sense that Hoseok is not yet appeased, so he adds, “There are six of us here to take the visions when you can’t. And if you do decide to rest, there will be six of us here to hold you through it. Being selfish does not mean that you are alone.”

“I’m so tired,” Hoseok whispers, and they both know that he is not referring to his lack of sleep. “We’ve all got such baggage, so much hurt, and I wonder if adding the weight of an eighth will be too much.”

“Hey.” Namjoon gently turns Hoseok in his arms, holding him close still. They look into each other’s eyes, see everything that they have grown familiar with. That they have grown to love. “We will also have another person to help share the load. For now and forever, we are in this together. It’s okay to have doubts, or worries, but never forget that you are ours and we are yours.”

Foreheads touch and eyes close, the silence of the night engulfing them as they share each other’s heat. And here, they are okay. They still have fears, still have troubling thoughts, but they are not so bad when they are together.

“C’mon,” Namjoon mumbles. “Let’s go back inside. Whether you decide to sleep or not, we should stay with the others. You know how they can get about cuddle piles.”

This does make Hoseok breathe a laugh. “Okay. And hey, Namjoon.” He presses their lips together in a brief, soft kiss. “Thank you, my love.”

“My eternal,” Namjoon replies.

That night, they both allow sleep to take them. They join the others in dreams of bloodshed, heartache, and death. And they hold each other a little closer. And they are okay.

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insufferablelust · 4 years ago

Text

Pretty little thing, (II)

Warnings : this series will be filled with Adult content, upcoming smut, murder, psychotic behaviors, dark kinks, traumatic events, manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation, interrogations, Daddy issues, abusive parents, blood, Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader.

This is a dark fic, there might be stuff that could trigger you so please read with caution and/or don’t read it if you are sensitive to the stuff in the warnings.

MASTERLIST.

——————

like i’m a flower,

that’ll rot at a speed of light,

like i’m a ripe peach,

that’ll bruise in the daylight.

——————

“Y/N Y/l/N put your hands on the air and hand us your weapon!”

Y/N’s brain thrummed against her skull, her lips quivered as she laughed loudly at the situation she was under, her hands up after she has tossed her gun and knife, turning around with knuckles all bloodied and face tear stained with angry red splotches— the sight truly psychotic.

“You’re making the biggest fucking mistake, Professor.” She chuckled, head tilting to the side at the gun cocking beside her head. Her eyes never leaving Spencer’s as Luke cuffed her scarred wrists behind her break and guided her outside of the house to the police car.

Spencer watched as she continued laughing from inside the car, her eyes never leaving his as his eyes stayed with hers. “She’s truly a narcissist huh?” He was blurred out of his thoughts by JJ’s voice beside him, His brain can’t seemed to let go of her voice chanting ‘mistake’ over and over inside his head.

“Spence?” JJ tapped his shoulder, jolting him from his mindless thoughts of a girl, the girl he arrested, the girl in the car, the girl who killed so many others, the girl who worked with cat, the girl— that looked innocent.

————

He stared at her through the window pane, he saw her bandaged knuckles, her head hung low and the wrist twisting around the cuffs. The more Spencer looked at her, the more he connected the dots, the more her remembered every foggy memories that surrounded her, every time cat mentioned her name before.

“Y/l/N isn’t dumb Spencie—“ Cat rolled her eyes, “She’s quite smart actually, when i’m dead she wouldn’t dare to betray me. do you know why?” She challenged, licking her lips in a cocky manner,

“Tell me.”

“Because i live inside her, every time she breathes it’s because i allow it— even after i’m dead, she’ll keep doing what she does best, killing our fathers.”

Our fathers,

��Our fathers.” Spencer blurted out suddenly, alerting Emily who was about to stepped into the interrogation room. “What?”

“Our fathers, that’s what cat said when i visited her last to talk about Y/N.” He whispered the last part, still unable to connect all the dots. It’s like when it comes to Y/N, he freezes, he stopped breathing, his mind stopped thinking. Its like he had known her for so long— that she was someone special to him.

“Let me talk to her..” He pleaded, fingers gripping the door tightly— eyes begging Prentiss to just let him talk to her. “Spencer you’re—“

“Conflict of interest, yes but i— i know her better than anyone here okay, give me a chance. She trusted me more because she knows me.” Emily’s eyes switched between Spencer’s and Rossi’s, looking for the best decision. “You know the protocols, just get her to talk, if things get difficult in there i won’t hesitate to pull you out of this case.” She stated firmly giving the files over to Reid, which he thanked her for, before stepping into the room.

———

Y/N felt him before even seeing him, she felt the warmth of his presence before she even had the knowledge of touching him— his body heat. Yet, Y/N knew it was him, he’s here with her. She kept her head low, closing her eyes tightly as she felt the low rumble of his voice as he sat down on the opposite chair.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She smiled, the sound of her name— her real name rolling from his tongue brought her some peace and quiet. Stopping her raging mind from all the torture she endured. It was 5 seconds of heaven, she concluded.

“Y/N, I’m—“

She giggled before he even muttered a third word, she giggled loudly but her head kept hanging down, she could already paint his expression inside her mind— she had studied him in great details for years, she knew every twitch of his face without even looking at him, like it was imprinted deep in the core of her memory.

“Is there something funny?”

He used that tone, the tone that made her shivered whenever he uses them on class, when he had scolded her because she was late, when he corrected her because she ‘accidentally’ did all her homework wrong. The very same tone she adored, that made her nerves twitched and seared her core. So she shrugged, licking her lips as if he could see her.

“Y/N Y/l/N, born November 17th 1985, only daughter of Amethyst Ren who died giving birth to her, and William—“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Her head snapped, looking at him with a sharp glare— a glare so sharp that it could cut through the glass. Spencer remained calm as he sees the way her fingers twitching together, and her skin on her wrist digging painfully against the cuffs.

“Be careful not to hurt yourself, as i was saying.. William Y/l/N who was a—“

“Fucking stop.” Her skin digs through the cuffs painfully as tears spilled out of her eyes— her tone was raging with anger.

Reid looked at her briefly before continuing with a straight face, trying so hard not to show any emotions, “A local businessman, apparently he raised Y/N—“

“You have a fucking death wish, Professor.” The blood dripped onto the interrogation table as the sharp cuffs nicked the skin, her legs bounced hard against the desk, a sign of agitation and pent up frustration.

“He raised Y/N dutifully and he—“

“He was an abusive fucking prick, who destroyed my life.” Y/N screamed loudly, her hand banging the table as Emily marched in to the room, trying to pull Spencer out, “Reid, out.” She said sternly but Spencer refused.

“He was a fucking coward, do you know what he did, professor? he broke me— damaged me into this this fucking monster” Y/N let out a sinister smile as she fought through the sobs, “My mother— my mother, he killed my mother. He killed her because do you know what men like him wants? what gets him off, professor? some young girl to torture,” She’s full on laughing now as she stopped the bounce on her knees and stilled completely,

“My mother was his precious girl, yet she’d grown too old so- so then he had me— and it was time for her to go.” She tilted her head to the side, “I was perfect for him, his personal punching bag..” Y/N closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and smiled sweetly at Spencer and Emily, “I never killed anyone, not once, i might be insane— might thought about killing, but there’s only one person i want to kill, and i haven’t gotten the chance yet.” She leaned in closer to Spencer as her waist bent over the table,

“I’m not Cat, Professor. I’m smarter than her, you know that. She thought she manipulated me, made me her personal clean up puppet. But, look at us now— she’s underground and i’m up here with her favorite man.” Y/N bit her lips, eyes pierced at Spencer’s “If you want to Arrest me, arrest me. But you know damn well, i’m just an innocent and beaten up daddy’s girl. My hands are clean.” She sat back down as her eyes flicked to Emily and smiles sweetly,

“I want a lawyer, please and thank you.”

————

“We’ve got enough evidence to arrest her, her fingerprints was all over Cat’s victims.” JJ voice rang through the room as the others kept on discussing about Y/N lawyering up,

“Yeah, but why is she lawyering up now? she knew about the evidence, she left them on purpose at the latest crime scene 2 years ago.” Rossi said, his eyes trailed over to Spencer who hasn’t said much after the interrogation room, eyes glued to her file and seemingly deep in thought.

“Right, it doesn’t make sense. She could’ve stayed hidden if she wanted to— she managed to do that all this time. Why expose herself to Spencer now?” Tara chimed in, head shaking at the puzzle thats in front of them, confusing each and every one of them. Whilst Spencer’s eyes blinked repeatedly as he remembered, the words that left Y/N’s lips,

“My hands are clean.”

“You know that, Professor.”

“Beaten up Daddy’s girl,”

“Daddy’s girl.”

“She never killed anyone.” The table went silent as he spoke up, his eyes darted to the picture of William on the board then back to his team,

“Spencer—“ JJ was about to cut him off before he murmured,

“The reason why she exposed herself now is because she found her ultimate target, the one she has been after all these years, she was right— she’s way too smart to fall into anyone’s game even Cat’s. I’ve seen her ability enough times to know how observant and smart she is combined with the fact that She has managed to stay hidden all these years when Cat was too unstable to see through my lies when i arrested her,

That’s why we never found any evidence except the fingerprints— we profiled that this splatter of blood..” He pointed to the picture on the board and took a deep sigh “was an act of someone cleaning up, all of the murder site said the same things about her fingerprints— clean up.” He finishes, whispering the last word.

Spencer looked up to see his teammates all shocked, especially JJ who has her palm on top of his shoulder trying to say something but clearly couldn’t, then his eyes flicked to Emily as she stood and walked over to him,

“It’s not impossible.” She stated, leaning into the table as she used her palm to support her body, “Emily—“ It was Alvez this time whom raised the doubt,

“No i mean think about it, The blood, the way she stayed hidden and her sudden appearance, her behaviors— we profiled her as the exact epitome of Cat Adams but what if that was only her cover up. If she was truly a narcissistic psychopath she wouldn’t have the ego to deny any of the murders— she would be proud of it. What if, all these time we weren’t looking for a killer, but the misunderstood puppeteer?” Emily grabbed a photo of her and placed it on the table,

“Well then who’s her actual target?” Penelope bit her lip nervously as Spencer placed a photo of,

“William Y/L/N, her father.” Next to her’s.

“Garcia—“

“On it!”

————

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( @drreidshands , @annestine , @addie5264 , @maybankslut , @lolitstiana , @imjusthereformggcontent )

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jalaluvsu · 4 years ago

Text

Interference

https://beautiful-disasters-sunshine.tumblr.com/post/631749044177403904/what-if-marinette-was-tims-little-sister-who-was

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“Y’know, just ‘cause Kori’s got a baby coming doesn’t mean you can boss us around Robin,” Beastboy whined as he stepped out of the Zeta Tube.

He scoffed at the notion, “That’s literally exactly what I can and will do, you absolute buffoon.”

“Oh, shutup.”

He sighed. There isn’t ever a moment where Garfield doesn’t wish Starfire still led the Titans. The past three weeks have gone by at an agonizingly slow pace, filled with never ending fights between him and Damian. And! Before you get the wrong impression, no, he did not start these fights. In fact, he was practically the one getting attacked!

Really, what’d you expect him to do when Damian insulted tofu during dinner at the Waynes’? Smile and wave?

Laughable.

Garfield will tell you what happened after, whether he’s proud is a matter of who asks. Let’s just say Alfred’s put him on a month-long ban from the dining room at the manor; worth it, nonetheless.

“Beastboy, earth to Beastboy,” He heard Raven chant over comms. Oh, right, the mission.

“Reporting for duty!” he saluted obediently, like the responsible hero he is.

“Stop standing there and you know, actually read the coordinates I sent to your navigator,” he grinned at her snark as he pulled out his compact. A hefty amount of unchecked notifications was in its wake.

Automated message coupons from the local pizza place at Jump City (hell yeah!)

Missed calls from Terra, he faltered at the offending contact; as if he would respond. The time for that has passed, long passed.

He scrolled down the small screen as he flitted his gaze past the hundreds of junk mail. Ah, and lastly, one lengthy preview of information regarding the mission. The text listed an address along with...enrollment details? Huh.

Garfield glanced both ways before crossing the busy street; him previously being in the too-bright alleyway.

Okay, see, he knows what you’re thinking. Someone like him- or rather someone who looked like him, would stick out like a sore thumb. Especially in a place like Paris. How common were metahumans here? Probably not as high as the rate in Metropolis, that’s for sure.

There were only so many green colored people, and a good ninety-nine percent was or is associated with heroes (vigilantes, fine) or even aliens. That being said, he was keeping it on the down-low. In Paris, he wasn’t the cool, collected, and most desired by all Garfield Logan. In Paris, he was just Grant Roth. What? It’s a good cover! And he was planning on taking Raven’s surname eventually anyways. (wink wink, nudge nudge)

A few spells and enchantments via Magical Goth Gf ™ prior to his ride in the tubes later; he practically looked uncanny to his appearance before the whole ‘failed experiment injection’ thing. You know, a mop of auburn hair, pale as paper skin, and cutesy little freckles (Blue Beetle’s words, not his) (Okay, maybe it was his too..)

Garfield pulled out his pocketed compact once he safely made it across the street. Now that he gave more than a glance at the address it looked...short. In fact, it was vague, extremely vague. He discreetly looked around for any eavesdroppers and lowered his voice to a whisper as he walked down the 21st arrondissement.

“Uh, guys? Where exactly am I supposed to go?”

He hated not knowing how to do something he was expected to, incredibly so.

“I was hoping you’d dispose of your body there,” he paused, "but since you asked so nicely, we’ll tell you.” Robin chimed in matter-of-factly.

Garfield could practically feel the next set of words. He didn’t know what they were, but they were going to suck. He just knew it.

Raven took a long swig of coffee before announcing the dreaded news, “We’ve signed you up for a foreign exchange student program,”

Ah,

“You what?!” he shrieked. A couple of onlookers gave him dirty glances, he smiled sheepishly.

Blue Beetle toggled his audio, “C’mon Gar-“ Robin interrupted,

“No names on field!”

“Shutuuuuup,” he drawled out.

“Anyways, Beastboy,’’ cue pointed glare at Robin,’’ did you really think we’d let you roam around without a leash for what? Three months? In a foreign country of all places?” Garfield could practically hear the smirk in his voice, the fucker.

“I was hoping, yeah!” Damn. He thought he would get away with them actually trusting him here alone, wishful thinking on his part.

He pouted at the idea as he scouted for a place to lounge in.

Raven huffed, “You’ll be living with a host family during your stay at Paris, if it wasn’t clear enough already.”

He froze; what other surprises were up their sleeves?!

“C’mon, be real for a sec. I’m a superhero, I don’t need to go to public school, I don’t need a couple of strangers!” he stressed as he weaved between crowds of Parisians.

Ooh, a bench. He sat with the intent of winning this argument, no matter the consequence. So what if he looked crazy, supposedly talking to himself? Priorities people, priorities.

“Doom Patrol’s strict orders, you know, ‘cause they can’t homeschool you a whole continent away,” Jamie deadpanned.

Garfield dragged a hand down his face. Stupid Doom Patrol, stupid worrying for his wellbeing. “But- it’s a mission!” he gestured rapidly, in clear exasperation.

Jaime tsked, “And? Gotta keep that brain of yours in tip-top shape, amigo!”

“Whatever, man;” he got up to dust himself off, “still don’t know how that’s related to the address on the Seine but- “

“They live there, your host family,” Raven supplied.

Garfield scratched his chin in wonder. Who lives in a body of water? That’s so- Wait. His friends were totally holding out on him!

“You guys didn’t tell me I’d be staying with Aquaman! That makes this ten times better!”

What were the chances that the man himself was in Paris too? They can bond over sea creatures, and Garfield could show him his animal transformations! This mission wasn’t so bad, it wasn’t bad at all. He had an extra skip in his step as he pranced down the pavement.

“Are you entirely brain dead?” Robin audibly face palmed,

”No, you’re not- you know what? Yes, you’re going to be living with Aquaman. At a river. In France,” quiet murmurs along the lines of ‘idiot, and ‘cómo adorable,’ sounded out from his remaining teammates.

“This is gonna be so awesome!” Garfield exclaimed giddily.

He spotted a boulangerie-pâtisserie a couple blocks away. Aha! Time to get him some sweet, sweet, treats. And hopefully, some directions.

“Robin spent weeks doing full analysis on the whole family,” Jaime grinned over the comm.

Raven cut in, “Even though it was incredibly self-destructive, “

Analysis? On the King of Atlantis? Boy, no one was safe from Damian’s wrath.

“Awww. You do care, Robin!” he cooed as he entered the bakery.

Robin gasped, affronted, “Don’t flatter yourself! I needed to make sure you wouldn’t feel obligated to blabber all our secrets, obviously.”

“Better than nothing, I suppose,” Garfield shrugged to himself, but quickly zipped his lips shut once someone came into view.

“The Couffaines are...adequate at best;” he quieted, “well, at least from what I could infer before I was so viciously torn away from my research!” was sniffed hotly.

Couffaines? Was that a code name?

“If I didn’t know any better Robin,” Jaime mused, “I’d think you were taking after Tim, especially with how many late nights you’ve had...”

A beat.

Garfield ignored the squabble taking place in his left ear, opting to chat with the kind looking, lady at the register.

“Hello! What can I do for-“ she looked up from tying her apron,

“Oh! You must be new here; I don’t recognize you,”

Garfield offered his hand, “Hah, yeah! I was just walkin’ around town. I’m Grant, by the way,’’ he silently praised himself for remembering his alias.

She shook it firmly, “Sabine.”

A warm smile was sent his way before she gestured to the variety of sweets on display. His mouth watered at the sight and contemplated his choices, no matter how hard it was. ‘’What would you recommend?’’ he whispered, completely in awe.

Sabine paused to give him a once-over before lighting up. ‘’Well, you don’t strike me as a tart kind of guy so, how do you feel about chocolate?’’

‘’Love it.’’

‘’Great! My husband just put out some fresh Pain Au Chocolates before you came in!’’ Score. His luck hadn’t completely run out.

‘’That sounds fire! I’ll have that,’’ he exclaimed cheerfully.

She blinked at his wording, ‘’Pardon?’’

What? Did she not unders- Oh.‘’Sorry, American slang. It means cool!’’ he rushed out.

She mulled it over, ‘’Ah, okay. Well, coming right up!’’ Sabine opened the glass in search of the Pain Au Chocolates.

“Don’t ever compare me to that insufferable fool, -“

He snickered, “Your brother?”

Robin fumed, “-you complete and utter nincompoop!”

“Now, now, don’t use big boy words on me,” Jaime taunted.

“I’ll show you ‘big boy’ words-! “

Garfield faux scratched his ear in favor of switching off the comm as he watched Sabine bag the treats. He grinned in thanks once handed to him.

“If that’ll be all...?” She trailed off.

He wasn’t really paying any mind as he took a big whiff of the sweets. His thoughts floated over to a haven filled with a never-ending overflow of pastries. Ah, what’s stopping him from staying here forever? A pat on his shoulder, apparently.

“Hm?” Garfield found the petite baker leaning over the counter with a patient smile.

“Sorry, I totally zoned out! Did you say something?” he rubbed his neck bashfully.

She chuckled, “I asked if there’s anything else I could do for you, sweetie.”

If there anything else she could- Right! Yes, he needed to know where the hell he was staying at. Garfield fumbled for his phone, luckily for him he copied the address into his Notes app.

“Yeah actually! Well, not food wise but, I’m here in Paris for,” he blanched momentarily, “uh, an exchange program; and I have a like host family here, right?” he gestured to his voice; the American accent evident.

She nodded.

He continued, “And I don’t really uh, like, know exactly where I’m supposed to meet them. I was wondering if you by chance knew someone who lived on the Seine around here?” Garfield shoveled a croissant into his mouth.

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

Marinette was a lot of things.

To some she was the sweet bakers’ daughter, insanely witty and clever, granted a bit scatterbrained, but she was your trophy student by all means of the word; to others though, she was someone to be wary of. A classmate’s spew of lies crawling under their skins, itching to be taken into account. Every move watched meticulously, waiting with bated breath for a slip up, for anything to grasp on to.

In simpler terms, Marinette was over it. Over being unable to speak her truth; over being villainized, constantly put under a spotlight. There was already enough on her plate, one of its regulars accumulating to a steadily-rising designer. One of her biggest flexes, if she was being honest; because really, what fourteen year old could say they constructed glasses for the Jagged Stone? Surely not the average bunch.

Oh, and did she mention superheroine? Yeah, she’s a superheroine.

The whole gig was shoved at her face, three months shy of her thirteenth birthday; and by gig she meant a brief guide, a blindingly red polka-dotted suit, a questionable choice of weapon (seriously, a yo-yo?), and an ill-timed partner.

Nonetheless, she worked with what she got. It's kept her alive so far already, why complain now?

She rubbed her eyes with a stifled yawn, ‘’Radiant....Carefree....Dreamy…’’

Marinette slammed the snooze button at the sound of that god forsaken jingle. Christ, she needed to change her alarm. All it did was make her reminisce of her former crush on Adrien Agreste; top teen Parisian model, son of fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste, and current boyfriend of future Olympiad, Kagami Tsurugi. Alas, old habits die hard, and this one was going to crash and burn any time soon; Marinette was sure of it.

A groan sounded out as she flopped to the floor, skillfully ignoring the tinkling laughter coming from her bedside. Ah, who was she kidding? It’d take some sort of absolute miracle to get over him completely. She would end up forever lonely, pining over a taken man, indefinitely getting dropped from position as lead designer for Jagged, friendless, Akumatized, disowned by her parents-

“None of those things are true, and you know it!”

She snapped her gaze up to the floating embodiment of creation, Tikki. Had her friend really thought that, that look could get Marinette to take back her spiel? She looked like an angry kitten for crying out loud!

Her cheeks reddened as she got up and dusted herself off, “Did I say that out loud?”

Judging by the narrowing of the tiny god's eyes, she’d say yes, it was said out loud. Damn, she was not looking forward to a morning lecture about her declining self esteem and her tendency of speaking her mind. Before Tikki could get even a word in, the Just In Case™ alarm for bad mornings went off. She shot the kwami a rueful grin and scurried over to the counter.

“Radian-“ the clock was chucked out of the three story building. Marinette watched from her window as it plummeted to its demise, in a heap of cheap metal and wires. Lovely.

A red blur zoomed to the front of her face, making her go cross-eyed, ‘’Marinette!’’ Tikki frowned shakily, struggling not to smile at her antics.

She shrugged and skipped over to her closet, in search for acceptable clothes,

‘’What? It was getting annoying! And besides, it’s not like it was worth that mu-!’’ They both froze at the pounding of the trap door.

Ugh, couldn’t they wait to bother her later?

‘‘You better get out of there soon, young lady! I don’t want another call from your school added to the list,’‘ Marinette was going to absolutely combust. It sucked enough that barely any of her ‘‘friends’’ stuck around, but Tom and Sabine? Really? Believing some complete stranger over her? It must be the lack of familial relation that makes it sting a bit less. It must.

She groaned tiredly, ‘’Yes, Sabine.’’

Once the descending pattering of her footsteps quieted, Tikki raced over to latch onto Marinette’s cheek. Her bluebell orbs peered up at her, filled with sympathy for her holder. She shook her head at the silent offer to talk; there’s no time for a pity party.

The kwami sighed sadly, before pecking her cheek and floating over to rest on her shoulder. Marinette plastered on an encouraging smile, ‘‘C’mon Tikks’, help me pick out and outfit for today! You know how indecisive I can be,”

After some thinking, they’ve come to the mutual decision of something completely out of Marinette’s alley. Instead of her usual pink capris, floral shirt, blazer, flats, and pigtails; she sported a plaid pleated skirt, a tucked in Queen Bee graphic tee, black two-inch heart buckled platform Mary Janes, and spacebuns. Who knew her wardrobe from Clara Nightingale’s on-set music video would come to use?

She ogled her reflection with a satisfied smirk, yeah, she was hot.

‘’Holy shit, Tikki, if I was still into Adrien,’’ she whistled, ‘’he’d drop to the floor as soon as he saw this; and that’s coming from me!’’

The kwami shook her head good naturedly, ‘’I’m glad you think so. I really like confident Marinette!’’ she nudged her shoulder, ‘’Although, I hope you aren’t doing this for your classmates’ approval...’’

She directed her gaze at Tikki; an other person’s approval? Why would she do something for another person’s approv- Oh. She actually wasn’t that far off.

‘‘Pssh. No, I would never! This is all me baby! The awesome, cool, and Pinterest board version, I mean,’‘ Marinette gave her little friend finger-guns and grabbed her purse. Enough about her, they needed to get to school before she was late again.

‘‘Get in Tikks’, if we wait any longer I’ll be,’‘ she checked the time on her phone, ‘‘like five minutes late to homeroom!’‘

She flitted into the bag as Marinette settled it onto her side. With one last look-over, she was off.

To say she struggled down the stairs was a complete and utter understatement. She almost died, multiple times. Maybe the platform shoes were a bad idea, a very, very, very bad idea. Marinette clutched onto the railing with an inhumane grip that could rival Alya’s on her phone; and that was telling you something.

Once she made it passed the death trap, or rather simply a few steps, she grabbed an espresso and a handful of cookies; the former being for her, and the latter for Tikki. She gave a fleeting wave to Sabine and Tom, not that they gave any mind.

She pulled out her phone, 8:26, she could work with that. Her phone buzzed with a text notification.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝖈𝖍𝖑𝖔𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 ♥ ɴᴏᴡ

where the fuck are you

Marinette snorted and slid the cookies into her purse. She unlocked the screen and tapped the message icon.

{𝟖:𝟐𝟕} .•°¤*(¯`★´¯)*¤° 🎀 𝓃𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝑒 🎀 °¤*)¯´★`¯(*¤°•.

wouldnt you like to know weather boy

{𝟖:𝟐𝟪} (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝖈𝖍𝖑𝖔𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 ♥

wow ur so funny im literally laughing so hard rn 😐

{𝟖:𝟐8} .•°¤*(¯`★´¯)*¤° 🎀 𝓃𝑒𝓉𝓉𝒾𝑒 🎀 °¤*)¯´★`¯(*¤°•.

thank you, thank you, im here all night 🖤

Marinette looked both ways before crossing the intersection, Dupont just about a block away. She chugged her now-cold coffee and tossed it in the recycling bin, ‘’Score! And the crowd goes wil-!’’ the atmosphere suddenly stilted.

‘‘Dupain-Cheng,’‘ she swiveled around, and was met with the putrid swamp green slits shes grown to despise.

A snarl rolled off her tongue, ‘’Rossi.’’

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omg guys so hi. im doing this. im actually doing the thing i said i would do here cuz im a bad bitch. 3k words i think. sorry for any mistakes i literally wrote this while watching pbs kids LMAOOOASODFWOEB @beautiful-disasters-sunshine idk if u still wanna be tagged when i do this kinda stuff but pm me if u dont <3

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script-nef · 4 years ago

Text

Your Kisses Makes It Go NEON | Hinata Shouyou

Inspiration: [NEON — DPR LIVE]

Category: fluff

5.7k words; colours decorate your time with Hinata

Very late birthday present for our ray of sunshine. Sorry ;^;

When Hinata thinks about you, he remembers colours.

He met you only a few months after arriving in Japan. Bokuto was going on about a bar he frequents with Akaashi, exclaiming how “the atmosphere is really relaxing and comfortable! You could spend 2 hours there and it would only feel like a few minutes have passed! Also the bartender there is a really cute girl and she’s super sweet! Her drinks are incredible!"

Hinata was never fond of alcoholic drinks—they tasted weird and had a gross aftertaste—but accepted the offer at the promise of non-alcoholic ones. (He later realises this is one of the best decisions he made in his life.)

Which was why the normally rambunctious group sat quietly—well, not that quiet. That was impossible with the combination of Bokuto and Hinata, but they tried at least—at the counter, as they skimmed through the menu filled with pictures of multi-coloured drinks. Some of the drinks had such bizarre names (Hinata’s face exploded with red when he read "Sex on the Beach” because what kind of a drink is that?) and none of them looked particularly appealing.

A soft tap on the shoulder shook Hinata out of his contemplation, and he was met with the softest eyes when he looked up. You smiled at him.

"Do you need help choosing?“

He couldn’t answer that properly.

The blue top you wore suited you perfectly, a toned-down yet vibrant colour. It contrasted against the deep red of the wallpapers, and the dim lighting made you glow almost ethereal. It somehow felt like you belonged there, like you were the centrepiece.

You snapped him out of his reverie by explaining various drinks to him, what the ingredients were and how strong it was, trying to figure out what type of drink he wanted. Which was nice of you, and he really appreciated it, but he couldn’t understand anything other than the sound of your voice.

He heard pink—soft, warm, soothing and so, so sweet—and it drowned out everything else. His teammates bickering and trying to grab your attention, the mellow classical music in the background, even his own heartbeat. It was all dissipating, leaving just you and him in a bubble of calm.

And he couldn’t help but hope to hear your voice every day.

Hinata started frequenting your bar. ("My cousin’s the actual owner.” You told him on his third visit. “But I helped him decorate, so I feel like it’s mine as well.”) He still doesn’t like alcohol and you laughed when he described the tastes. He then realised that it was rude to complain about it to a bartender and began apologising profusely, but you just waved it off.

"It’s okay, not everyone likes the same things. There’s a wide variety of non-alcoholic drinks for you to enjoy. Like this one.“ You slid a mocktail over, and he beamed before sipping away at the yellow drink. The flavours burst on his tongue, and words could never fully encompass these sensations. A zesty explosion which reminded him of the beach and his experience in Brazil. Hinata sometimes wondered if you were a witch. Surely an ordinary person couldn’t evoke so many memories and emotions from a mere drink.

He couldn’t stop himself as he let out a content sigh, his face morphing into that of utter bliss. Every drink you made was yellow or orange, as vibrant as the sun and somehow tasted like them too. He asked you about it and you just giggled in response.

"It’s because you remind me of the sunshine, Hinata-san. You have an unbelievable amount of energy and unbridled happiness, it’s hard not to think of it when I look at you. Whenever you visit, I feel like I’m getting a vitamin D boost and it gets me through the next few days. And… the fact that your hair is orange really solidifies the image.”

He moved to touch his hair almost self-consciously, but you stopped him in his tracks by blurting out, “It suits you! Your hair, I mean. It helps you stand out in your matches and… you look adorable."

That stopped Hinata in his tracks. You looked away from him, cheeks dusted with red as you cleaned a cup. Hinata’s brain started spinning faster than ever. She just called me cute. No, wait, it was adorable but they’re synonyms. She just said I’m cute. And she watches our matches! Oh God, that means she watched all those times I couldn’t receive the ball properly. The insanely nice and pretty girl has seen some of my worst moments on the court.

"Do you… watch our games, [Surname]-san?” Hinata asked tentatively. Oh God, what if she watched the one where I fell over after I tried to receive it or the match against Inarizaki when I forgot to hit the ball?

"Just some of them. Bokuto-san kept on asking me to watch him play and… I gave in when you came. I kind of got hooked onto it after watching you, Hinata-san.“ With that, you scurried off by using another customer as an excuse, whispering a soft "excuse me”. He watched you walk away, gaining the courage to finally do what he should have done weeks ago.

You came back by the time his drink was finished, a smile replacing the blush and asking if the drink was to his taste. He replied the same way as always, “All your drinks are delicious!”

That never failed to put a smile on your face. A small grin bloomed, and Hinata took this as an opportunity.

"[Surname]-san, I wanted to ask if you were busy this Saturday? I recently found this place called Aobayama Botanical Gardens nearby and you said you like this sort of stuff, so I was wondering if you would like to come.“ Your eyes widened at that. Is he… asking me out? No, wait, don’t get ahead of yourself. Because, surely, this amazingly friendly and loveable national-level athlete would choose to spend his time with someone equally talented and amazing, right? But Hinata’s eyes were full of determination and hope, so much that it pushed you to confront your feelings as well.

"I would be delighted to take you up on that offer.” You quickly grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled your number onto it. “Here’s my number. I’m free in the mornings, so… just give me a time, I guess."

As he stumbled out of the bar, Hinata couldn’t stop the excitement and anticipation bubbling throughout his veins, amazed at how easy that was. He let out a whoop that echoed throughout the street and ran home, desperately wishing time would flow faster.

His stomach was warm and fuzzy, and it really did feel like he drank the sun.

The 5th "date” (not officially though, since neither of you ever called it that) to a park had been cut short due to sudden downpour.

"Hinata, it’s okay if you get water on the floor! Get inside and close the door!“ Hinata hurriedly locked the door, glad to be out of the freezing shower and fierce wind. He slowly walked through the apartment, mumbling "excuse me” to no one as you were currently running around, trying to clean up and turn on the heating. A sneeze escaped him.

"Hinata, are you okay?“ You reached for his arm, only to recoil at the contact. "You’re freezing! You’ll get a cold at this rate.” You pulled him towards the bathroom, picking up some towels along the way. He was left standing on a mat in the bathroom while you ran off again. He looked around the room, taking in the details. There were small plants on the windowsill and various cosmetics littering the sink. The room smelled like you. …That was weird. Ugh, I shouldn’t be thinking that!

You came back holding a pile of clothing. “It’s my cousin’s, I don’t know if it’ll fit you though. It’s all been cleaned recently so don’t worry about that. Take a shower and I’ll have something warm ready by the time you’re done.” He opened his mouth to say “thank you”, but all that came out was another sneeze. You let out a soft shriek. “Shower! Now, Hinata! You’re an athlete, you can’t be sick!” You slammed the door on your way out.

—

The clothes fit him fine. When he came out, you were in the kitchen, stirring a cup.

"Ah, Hinata. Here you go, hot chocolate and some snacks. Sorry, but I have to go and shower as well. You can watch TV or read my books.“ You disappeared into your room, his calls of "You should have showered first! Thank you!” echoing in the hallway. He took a sip, enjoying the warmth travelling down his throat.

He scanned the house, immediately noticing the incredible amount of greenery you had on display and tucked in corners. Small slivers of light from the windows reflected off the leaves and basked the room in a soft green tone. There were a few he remembered from your trips to various gardens, (probably because he hung from your words like they were the most interesting information on earth) and some he couldn’t. He knew you would be able to recite the name, scientific name, meaning and other interesting facts as soon as he asked. You had an avid fascination for flora and alcoholic drinks, which was usually an odd combination but it suited you perfectly.

You came out soon, changed into comfortable sleepwear, and saw him stroking a leaf. It felt kind of weird, having your crush in your house. It’s not like it was hard for Hinata to creep his way into your heart, what with his brilliant smile and incessant energy. He was genuinely interested in everything you said even if it was trivial, like what you had for lunch or rowdy customers who are a pain. And you desperately wanted to let him into your life, to confess your affections for him. But what if you gave him your heart and it ends like last time? Hinata won’t do that, but… That’s what I thought before as well… No! Nope, let’s not think about that. You opted to sneak behind the unsuspecting boy, pushing the thoughts into a corner of your mind.

"That’s a Chinese money plant.“ Hinata shrieked at your sudden presence behind him. ”Pilea peperomioides, but I find the name pancake plant cuter. Come here, you need to dry your hair off. Can’t have you getting sick with a match next month.“ You sat on the sofa while he sat on the floor in front of you, giving full access to his damp mop of hair.

You rubbed at it gently with a fresh towel, admiring the orange locks. It became fluffy and bouncy so quickly. You loved it.

“[Surname]-chan?” You hummed. “Can I ask why you have so many plants?” Your hands stopped moving against his hair at that, and Hinata stiffened as well. It was only for a split second though, and you continued your ministrations.

“I like taking care of them, I guess. I used to date this person… and uh, it didn’t end that well. They weren’t that good of a person, let alone a partner. They just kept saying how lucky I was to be with them and that no-one else would love me… How much they hated my voice… But my cousin, the one that owns the bar, he helped me move over here away from them. He also introduced me to plant therapy to help me and well… It got out of hand, I guess.” You let out a soft chuckle, but it was laced with sadness and regret. “I’m sorry, this is a depressing topic, isn’t it? You don’t have to listen to all of my rambling, just forget about this.”

“I love you!” You looked down at him in surprise. Hinata’s face heated up, mouth set into a determined grin in order to not show how much he’s embarrassed by his sudden outburst. He clambered onto the sofa, gripping both of your hand tightly in his. “[Surname]-chan, don’t ever think or listen to anyone like that! I know we met only half a year ago, but you are one of the most kind and understanding and enthusiastic and strong person I have ever seen! These plants symbolise your strength and hope for a better future, so who cares if you have fifty or a hundred? You deserve the world and everything in it, and I…” He paused, squeezing your hands even tighter. “I love you! I’ve liked you since we met for the first time at your bar, my heart just stopped when I first saw you and all I could think when you talked to me was how much I love your voice!”

Hinata’s face was absolutely ablaze now, red covering every inch of his skin, but his steady gaze was filled with nothing but sincerity. “It’s getting repetitive but I really, really love you! And I… I want you to know that I would never treat you like that, and I’ll always tell you how much you brighten up my day by just texting me, or how cute your unending enthusiasm for your plants are. So… if you’re willing to trust me… will you go out with me?” The blushing settled down and Hinata’s lips were trembling slightly, fearing for the worst.

You were quiet, blinking owlishly at him. Seconds, which felt more like hours to Hinata, ticked past and silence continued. Hinata’s burst of confidence started to shrivel at your lack of response. Ah, maybe… maybe I’m too fast. She’s not comfortable and I’m pushing her too far! He retracted his hands from yours, moving away from the sofa.

“[Surname]-chan, I’m sorry, I’ll lea-”

“Wait!” You grabbed onto his hand, pulling him back onto the sofa. He fell with a soft “oof” and you crawled over to him. “Yes.” He stared at you.

“…Yes?” You nodded firmly, lips quirking into a delighted smile.

“Yes.”

Hinata froze for a moment before exploding into a happy squeal, arms wrapping around you and giggling into your neck. You wound your arms around his body as well, nudging your nose into the side of his face. Peals of laughter escaped from your lips. You could feel his heart thudding rapidly against your chest.

He pulled back to cover your cheeks with his hands before squealing delightedly once more and peppered kisses onto your face.

“Ahhh I’m so happy [Name]-chan!! I swear I’ll be the bestest boyfriend you’ve ever had!!”

And you don’t doubt him.

Cheers echoed throughout the stadium as Hinata spiked down the last point needed for the set and the game. His team crowded around him, with the exception of Sakusa, congratulating each other for another win. Hinata escaped from all the head rubs and back pats, eyes shifting to where you sat. You waved upon eye contact, yelling something out which was muted under everyone else’s screams.

His heart swelled, thudding hard against his chest and about to escape through his mouth. He put the sensation on pause, remembering to show his respect to the opposing team and to respond to various reporters. He really tried to give a coherent reply to the interviewer’s questions. He really did. But the amount of energy in him even after playing five full sets was threatening to explode at the thought of you.

The reporter finally thanked him for his time and Hinata wasted no time after bowing and rushed to you. He leapt over the small barricade and engulfed you in his arms, enjoying the feel of your skin and the smell of your perfume. People clamoured around you two, surprised the star player would suddenly barge into the crowd. He heard his teammates whistling cheekily, probably taking pictures to embarrass him later. But you were more important right now.

You ripped yourself away from his grasp, delight and amazement in your eyes. "Shouyou! Oh my god, that was so amazing how you spiked it down and wow, the videos don’t do you any justice at all! My eyes could barely follow you from all your running and jumping!” You babbled on about his performance, thanking him repeatedly for the ticket. He beamed so brilliantly, it was nearly blinding.

“Thanks, [Name]-chan! I’m so glad you came to watch!” And also that I didn’t make any mistakes in front of you. Hinata honestly thought he would shrivel in shame if he made a reckless mistake—such as the one a few months ago, when he stumbled over nothing and didn’t make it in time for the spike. (You commented about it a few days ago. He was mortified that his girlfriend—he still can’t believe you’re his girlfriend—saw such an embarrassing moment.)

You had shined brightly under the stadium lights, contrasting the black top with black slacks you were wearing. “It’s because I’m rooting for your team!” You said that just before the match, grasping his hand in yours. You hadn’t wished him good luck, “because I know you’re going to win this, Shouyou! You don’t need luck!” His heart rate had skyrocketed at your confidence in him, giving him the extra adrenaline to win the game 3:2. Even the commentators had noticed the excess energy he had, but it had been kind of obvious since he was jumping around everywhere without a break and didn’t look tired at all.

Ah, I love her so much. The thought filled Hinata’s head. He heard his teammates calling for him, yelling that he needed to change out of his sweaty uniform, but it felt like his limbs were physically attached to you. He just wanted to stay in this moment, high on adrenaline and your love for him. You gently pried him off, promising to meet him at the entrance of the stadium so you could finish the day with a date.

He nodded gleefully, taking one last look at you before, very reluctantly, detaching himself from you. He noticed the red lipstick you were wearing, the one he bought for you last week because yours had broken the day before. It took him the whole day with Yachi because there were so many shades and tones and something called hues? He didn’t even understand half of them, but he tried his best to find one which was a similar colour to your previous one. The smile on your face when he presented it to you was worth floundering around for the whole day.

You wore it constantly and Hinata was delighted that it suited your taste so well. Just as he was about to walk away, he turned back to quickly press a kiss onto your lips, taking some of the makeup when he pulled away. The whole stadium, spectators and players alike, gawked at his action, many blushing at the PDA and others squealing.

Your face burst into a flaming red as Hinata casually walked away, like he didn’t just kiss you. On camera. Which is live right now. Like literally, right now. In front of thousands of people and probably thousands more on the other sides of countless monitors.

Hundreds of articles and reports were made, headlines congratulating the Black Jackals for another win while displaying his beaming face with smudges of red on his lips. You could be seen in the background, crouching with your face buried in your hands.

(You reprimanded him severely for his actions, but more kisses being poured onto your lips cut it short.)

Shouyou loves your enthusiasm for celebrating special occasions. Christmas, Cherry Blossom Festival, New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Obon. You once took a day off and whisked him off to Sapporo for the Snow Festival. He treasures the memory of your amazed face admiring the snow sculptures. He tried to make one for you but it ended up as a misshapen lump of ice. A photograph you managed to snap before it melted in his palm is pinned onto the large cork board in the living room.

But your favourite celebration by far is Halloween, or “All Hallow’s Eve, the beginning of Allhallowtide and the day to remember the dead! AKA the perfect day to stuff myself with sweets and pumpkin pies with no one to say anything to me!” as you called it. He video-taped the second time you repeated the grand announcement, giggling at your theatrics. Halloween always brought out your inner silliness.

The third Halloween together was no different. He returned home from his training to be met with cobwebs and cutout bats decorating the walls, illuminated by candles lining the shelves and cupboards. Sweet and savoury smells assaulted his nose and you peeked out from the kitchen.

“Shouyou? You’re back earlier than I thought. Come on, and watch the candles, I made a Halloween themed dinner!” The table was packed with different foods, which was… unsettling, at least to others. A bowl of pasta topped off with eyeball meatballs, a blood-red beef stew, chicken soup with pastry hands hanging out… Shouyou remembered his first Halloween with you, when he nearly fainted. But he learnt the charm of Halloween thanks to your overflowing interest in the day and now he loves it as much as you.

“This looks amazing, [Name]-chan!” He noticed your costume—a long, flowing black dress and an equally dark cape hung off your shoulder. The ensemble was topped off with a crooked hat. “A witch! Aw, you’re so pretty.” You pecked him on the lips.

“Correct and thank you. Your costume is in the bedroom, Shou-chan.” He perked up at that, dashing to the room after returning your kiss. He returned soon with his outfit: a white shirt tucked underneath a red corset along with black slacks and a black cape, just like yours.

“[Name]-chan, it’s like a couple’s outfit!” He swished the cape around, flapping it like wings while running around the room. “I could be your bat familiar!”

“Shouyou.” You had a reprimanding scowl on. “You’re making dust fly around. It’s going to go on the food!” He stopped with a “Sorry!” and took his seat on the small dining table, mouth watering at the sight. While other friends might be put off due to the visuals of your creation, nothing mattered to Shouyou other than your efforts and the taste. Which is always phenomenal.

You took a seat opposite of him, laying down mason jars filled with red liquids and eyeballs for the both of you. A chorus of “Itadakimasu!” rang through the house as you both dug into the food.

Shouyou let out an unidentifiable noise of at the perfectly prepared dinner. He shovelled different pieces of food in, uncaring of his table manners. You laughed and reached over to wipe his mouth. Mid-way through the meal, he grumbled in annoyance as the cape collar kept poking him in the cheek and opted to remove it for the time being. Then the corset, even though it was supposed to be loose, as it was pushing down on his stomach.

By the time he tapped out, half the food on the table was finished and moans of “I can’t… eat… anymore…” escaped him and you giggled in response. His dramatics never ceased to amuse you.

“Shou-chan, help me clean the table please. We have to finish one last activity before turning in for the night.” He replied in groans. “Shou-chan! I promise you’re going to love this, but I need you to help me. Come on, just wrap them up and move them to the fridge, please.” He reluctantly lifted his head from the table and followed your orders, carefully sealing the dishes off.

By the time he moved all the food, the table was covered with spare newspapers and a huge pumpkin was laid on top of it. He gasped at the sight, realisation dawning on him. “Are we making a jack-o’-lantern?!” When you nodded in confirmation, a shriek of delight left him. You immediately calmed him down, reminding him that this is an apartment and people can hear him. It did nothing to stop his energy.

“Shou-chan, you do know that this requires knife work and I can’t give it to you if you’re this fidgety, right?” That seemed to work. He immediately stopped his restlessness, giving you puppy eyes as if to say “I won’t misbehave”. You knew it wouldn’t even last for 5 minutes.

The process of pumpkin carving actually turns out to be quite easy and smooth-sailing despite Shouyou’s absolute lack of self-control and abundance of impulsiveness. He would have eaten all of the scooped out pumpkin fillings if you didn’t stop him in time. Instead, it was dropped into your pot for a “special dish”. While it simmered on the stove, you took over to carve the face out of the pumpkin as you won the argument of “who has steadier hands and better carving skills”. Your boyfriend seemed content enough trying to pick the right candle to place inside.

“Ta-da! Done! And done quite well if I say so myself.” Shouyou looked up from his collection of candles and smiled brilliantly at your handiwork. It was a crow, its wings outstretched like it was soaring through the sky. “Do you like it? I remembered you saying your high-school team’s symbol was a crow so… I practised making it perf—”

He pulled your body into his, gripping tightly as if you were going to dissipate away. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. I don’t understand how lucky I am to have you… I love you so much [Name]-chan. So, so much.” He mumbled against your neck. You chuckled softly and ran your fingers through his hair.

“It’s the same for me, Shouyou. I’m fortunate to have you brighten up my life, to have someone like you love me.”

A candle was dropped into the finished pumpkin, the light orange light enveloping the two of you as you cuddled on the sofa. Confessions of love drifted through the air as your lips pressed against his repeatedly, something gentle and warm unfurling between your hearts.

You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Shouyou received three months of paid leave. It was to help him recover from his (“slightly!”) sprained wrist and also for his non-stop involvements in all the matches so far. Fans wanted to plead for him to take a break every now and then, but seeing his joyful face on the court made them swallow down their complaints. So when the notice of his brief leave became official, the comment section was filled with encouragements and “have fun with your girlfriend!”

Which was why he planned three months’ worth of travelling—from Japan to South Korea to Iran to Russia to Poland to Italy to France to the US to Brazil to Argentina and back—with you accompanying him. You gladly accepted his invitation, full of anticipation at exploring through the various countries. You asked about the odd destination choices, which he replied with a mumble of “…they have high-ranking volleyball teams.” His enthusiasm for the sport, even when he was injured, never ceased to amaze you.

“I’m glad you’re making the most of this time, Shou.” Your fingers carded through his hair while rubbing it dry. This became one of his favourite activities with you, other than snuggling and kissing. Or sleeping together. Or getting into tickle fights. Or eating together. (He just loves everything he does with you.)

“Yep! This will be an amazing opportunity to see all the other athletes! I already called them and they all said yes! But… are you fine with it?” He peeked up from his spot underneath you. “I want you to enjoy this trip as well, not just because I’m forcing you to come with me.” You smiled and placed a kiss on his nose.

“Of course I’m fine, Shou. As long as you don’t leave me alone the whole time for volleyball, I guess.” He spluttered an “Of course not! I’ll only watch them for a couple of hours, all the rest of our time can be used for sight-seeing! I bet this trip is going to be life-changing!”

And it was. Shouyou’s mornings were spent in various stadiums, eyes digging into each player’s forms like a hawk. Turning practice match offers down was practically torture for him, but he couldn’t play against them to due to his injury. When his thoughts of “I can play just this once!” surfaced, his promise with you of “no playing until your finger is fully healed” interrupted him. And he would sooner die than ever break a promise with you.

He would then return to the hotel around lunch to cuddle and share a meal with you. You would be stuck in the bed due to jet lag—how Shouyou managed to be so unaffected when you were half-dead is a mystery—but a few kisses and you would be as wide awake.

The afternoon was used to explore the city, ranging from famous land-marks to small eateries which was recommended to him via comments. (His fans around the world were so helpful.) He held your hand as you weaved through the streets and squeezed through large crowds, gripping firmly as if to say “I’m never letting you go.” Small souvenirs were bought by sets and hundreds of photos were taken to be weeded through and uploaded onto social media. Each city in each country was scouted the same way, and it was honestly paradise on Earth.

“Shou, there’s somewhere I want to go.” You whispered to him on the last night of your stay in Brazil. He moved so that he would be laying at eye-level to you, his body pressing onto yours. “It might mess up the schedule a bit, but there’s somewhere I really, really want to go. It’ll only take a day out of our stay in Argentina.” Your eyes sparkled despite the darkness of the night. “Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

—

The tour bus was comfier than you expected, gliding across the paved road in the middle of nowhere. Shouyou slept soundly next to you, face half-covered with thick blankets and fluffy pillows. You pulled a hand out from your cocoon of warmth, gently tracing his facial features. His serene face was rare, even when he was sleeping as it normally contorted to match whatever dreams he was having.

A wave of affection washed over you, threatening to drown your senses. Ah, how did I get so lucky? To be with someone this kind, this understanding and this loving. You placed a small kiss on his lips, jostling him awake as the bus slowed down to a stop. He let out a yawn, noticing the proximity of your face to him and gave you a quick peck.

“[Name]-chan? Why have we stopped?” The driver turned on weak lights, awakening other passengers as well. Shouyou leapt up from his seat, grabbing his jumper and yours at the driver’s words. “We’re here! Come on, we need to go!” Your eyes lit up in delight as you took his hand, bounding out of the bus.

The wide expanse of Uyuni’s salt flat greeted you. The night sky was clear, illuminated by the Milky Way and its countless stars. The usually dry plain was wet thanks to a timely shower a couple of hours ago, reflecting the lights off the crystalline ground like an enormous mirror.

The heavy smell of salt assaulted your nose as you stepped onto the ground, softly cracking as you walked on it. Shouyou was right next to you, eye glimmering at the ineffable sight before him. You ventured to the middle of the plain, leaving the gasps of delight and bewilderment of other travellers.

The violet sky was everywhere, underneath your feet and above you. Shouyou caught up, hugging you from behind and squeezing softly.

“I understand why you wanted to come. This is beyond beautiful.” He whispered into your ear, eyes gazing off into the distance. You nodded softly. It felt right, underneath the spotless sky and in the arms of your lover. This is the moment.

Shouyou ripped his arms off of your body at the sensation on his finger. A gold band sat on his finger, glimmering in the starlight. He gaped at it, eyes wide in astonishment. His mouth repeated to open and close, unable to find the correct words as his mind went blank.

“[Name]-chan?! What’s this?!” He shrieked at you, finally finding his voice. “Wh-what what. What. Am I dreaming? Did you just- is this-” You laughed at his flustered state, falling into his embrace while he didn’t take his eyes off the piece of jewellery.

“Yes, Shouyou. It is.” You held him at arm’s length, a hand cupped on his cheek. “The last 5 years with you were… indescribable. You never stopped showering me with affection, always made me feel loved and accepted me for who I am. I never felt neglected despite your constant absence for volleyball… if anything, you motivated me with your endless enthusiasm for the sport. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I hadn’t met you, nor one without you.” You smiled softly, wiping the tears trickling down his cheeks. “So, Hinata Shouyou—the love of my life, my heart and soul—will you marry me?”

Dry heaving and shuddering cries left his mouth as he nodded, broken declarations of love and “yes” mumbled against your lips in between hitched gasps for air. You kissed him back, giggling at his unending affection.

“I’ll… I’ll do my best to make you happy for— for the rest of your life.”

“I know you will, my love. I will too.”

Life changing trip indeed.

blue,

pink,

yellow,

green,

red,

orange,

violet,

you.

#hinata x reader #hinata imagine #hinata shouyou x reader #hinata shouyou imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hinata #hinata shouyou #fluff #insp: birthday #insp: song #female reader

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dreaming-of-assclass · 4 years ago

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TEA TIME!!: what were your thoughts on the Civil War arc?? 🍵

It’s always Tea Time 🍵

Civil War is known for being iconic in the fandom...but not for the right reason.

It was the moment where all the kids really get to show their talents and how much they’ve improved over the course of the year. Some of them reveal hidden surprises, others continuously impress...

The point is, all the kids had a moment to shine. But barely anyone talks about that.

Instead, Civil War is known for being the Karmagisa arc...which I personally have issues with ngl.

I guess I’ll just address this first and say...it’s never clear on what Karma was exactly so upset about. All we know is that he was obviously jealous.

And that type of unreliable narrative...really shouldn’t have been used for this arc. It was supposed to be about Korosensei and the class, but instead it was Karma throwing a tantrum and having beef with Nagisa.

The violence between Karma and Nagisa in this arc personally makes me uncomfortable anyways, especially some of the imagery. But the fact that people can see that and interpret it as “hot” and use it as shipping fuel makes me feel even worse.

But this is a personal issue, so it’s not really included as tea btw.

Moving on, Karma suddenly having strong leadership skills really bothers me. I’ve said this before in a tea post about him, but none of Civil War was a good example of leadership. He barely guided his teammates, had his own agenda, and used them as collateral damage.

Again: Karma works best as a strategist. It would be cool to see Nakamura be leader though.

I saw this mentioned in Discord too, about how Nagisa barely was involved in anything. Rather than go by the rules like everyone else was, he stayed hidden and came out at the last second, taking out 3 people smh.

Civil war besides those two, like everything involving the Class, is very enjoyable to me. I loved when I read the manga and saw all these little details of their improvement. My favorite moments were how everyone was legitimately terrified of Hayami, but Yada cutely got her in the end. Adorable, I’m so proud of my girls.

Oh...now we’re at the part that a lot of people will disagree with me on.

I don’t think Red Side had a legitimately good argument...in fact, it disturbs me how willing they wanted to get rid of the teacher who loved them so much. The only adult who was there for them.

Their arguments were bullshit honestly, especially the snipers, Nakamura, and Okano...and a few others, I can’t remember well right now.

And I think the reason why this makes me so upset is because Class E is a found family. Assassination started their bonds with each other and the teachers, but it’s not the only thing. And Civil War makes it seem so.

They were together for almost a year by this point! What about all the sweet memories? How they went through so much together? Does none of it mean shit just because you wanna “honor Korosensei?”

I do believe that Koro didn’t wanna be saved...and that his wish was to die, once he was done teaching 3-E. But the point of Nagisa and Blue Team’s argument was just to try. They wanted to try saving Koro. They wanted to try staying as a class.

And the fact that the kids on Red Team couldn’t even put that much effort in hurts me a lot...and I lowkey disliked them after reading that part. I obviously don’t still feel that way, but yeah...

Hearing the fandom agree with Karma and red side fucking hurts. I just can’t respect that argument and unwillingness to bend just a little.

Like, if not for Koro, couldn’t they do it for the class? The class that’s basically a family to everyone?

#assclass #assassination classsroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #tea spill #3-e #karma akabane #nagisa shiota

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ladylyra · 5 years ago

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I adore your Pokémon gijinkas! In fact you inspired me to draw some of my team lol, but what I came here to ask is do you have any backstory/summary about your swsh team like the one you gave to another person about your bw nuzlocke teammates?

ill be honest i dont have super detailed backstories for them but i definitely have character summaries!

kyle: you could say his “thing” is that he is really dumb but he certainly means well. hes always trying to make other people happy and wants nothing more than to have fun! he’s always looking onto the bright side of things and what he lacks in planning/forethought he makes up for with strength. i think he trusts others a bit too much, accepting Mura’s word with little question. he doesn’t hold back anything that is on his mind. felix is like his dad and when fleur entered the team last he was the first to try to include her because she was so shy, didn’t catch on that she liked him until a...while later. missy is his childhood friend but heidi is his best friend! his ‘dumbness’ is mostly just his impulsive tendencies combined with his optimism/unwavering trust. he will remember anything you tell him.

felix: the ‘team dad’ as i have appointed him. he spent a lot of time reigning in kyle and missy when they were younger and rlly does love them. as missy has grown up they spend a lot of time together and have tea a lot. hes more like her mentor now, always giving her advice and teaching her things, stuff like that. he gets annoyed pretty easily but he doesn’t, like, snap. i will jokingly call him a boomer bc he is a bit older and doesn’t keep in with the times or trends, and he can usually count on heidi to try to tell him about things (he’ll just nod along so he doesnt discourage her but he still doesnt understand honestly) i imagined he was a bit of a rebel in his nickit days before he had to wise up with two BABIES around and here he is now.

missy: she has a pretty stoic and femme persona, generally well liked by most who look at her, but she can be very callous and brash if she feels close enough to you. she likes to shame mura for causing drama but really she can be just as bad, just that nobody ever suspects her of anything. she’s not shy to the caliber of fleur, more bold even if shes reserved in her speech. the ‘mature one’ of her and kyle when they grew up, but would just observe his nonsense rather than stop him (this changing eventually as they got older.) she takes after felix a bit from observing him and being partially raised by him, although being an adult now she wishes to be viewed more as an equal than as a kid (luckily, he does!) she and heidi have a close relationship; missy originally felt heidi was someone she could be her ‘true self’ with until she realized heidi was looking for someone she could drop the punk vibes around, so basically the complete opposite for the both of them. theres a happy medium in there somewhere.

mura: you basically know mura the moment you look at mura. he likes to cause trouble and be a general hindrance to normal life for anyone around him with few to no exceptions. felix hates him but hes too valuable a power to the team to ever make leave. one of his favorite hobbies is telling kyle false facts that he will then spread. theres little that can bother him, besides heidi. they both have the incredible skill of being the only people that can trouble the other. it’s kind of a love/hate relationship and a months long game that neither will give up on. the only person he cant fool is missy and the only person he wont try to mess with is fleur because despite his love of antagonizing others, theres no real joy in making someone cry (at least not fleur.) he likes to act like hes bothered by her friendliness toward him but its kind of...nice. it makes him ALMOST feel bad he messes with kyle daily.

heidi: kind of what you’d expect of a toxtricity; punk rock, loves loud noise, always trying to have fun (like kyle! they became fast friends.) the only difference is that she really isn’t all this. she feels kind of embarrassed that she can be just as traditionally ‘girly’ despite her aesthetic, and isn’t as forthcoming with these traits. she hides her love of cute things and is sad that fleur seems to be scared of her at times (they’re working on it.) and as of now missy is the only one she can be slightly open with. her back and forth relationship with mura is of note, and while it does involve a lot of teasing, i think by this point there is some understanding that there’s more than that. they work incredibly well together in battle and when times get tough they would consider eachother allies. there’s some very evident flirting at times, but neither are into something serious. heidi seems to attract admirers wherever she goes (to which she happily accepts them.)

fleur: oh fleur. just a little baby. she was the last to join the team and found it very hard to find a place for herself, so she opted for not merging at all. she mostly just admired the synergy of everyone else and kept to herself. it wasn’t like she didn’t want to find friends, but she could never push herself into the spotlight. one individual she admired as well as began crushing on rather severely was kyle; i jokingly call her a morosexual but really she really values his optimism and spirit, since she lacks both of those things, in her opinion. for a while all she did was kind of observe him from afar because she didn’t know how to approach him, but he eventually caught on and began including her himself. it’s a bit overwhelming at times, but he did help her a lot in blending in better with the team--now its kind of like hes the one observing her, making sure she’s comfortable and alright. heidi tried a similar approach and being friendly with her, but fleur is admittedly intimidated by heidi much to the girl’s disappointment. she’s warming up to mura, using what little optimism she’s learning to have to help improve her relationships. missy and her get along pretty well; missy is trying to get her out of her shell by slowly but surely sharing her troublemaking tendencies with her.

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2-fast-2-curious · 6 years ago

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Adore You Like The Roses

Summary: Auston is bad with words but tries to fix that with you

Words: 1450

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: To get the random thirsty Instagram comments all I had to do was scroll through my own message box. Also, I went to see The Maine today and they reminded me that they’re from Phoenix so I decided to rename this after one of their lyrics. Didn’t add very much smut because I’m tired AF.

It had been a long time since Auston had a girlfriend. In fact, he wasn’t even looking for one when he first met you. Everything was casual and great until it wasn’t. The more he got to know you, the harder it was to shake the romantic attraction he had for you. So Auston asked you if you wanted to be exclusive, if you wanted to be his girlfriend. In hindsight, he should’ve taken note of your response. “Oh” followed by seconds of silence as Auston waited on bated breath. “I honestly didn’t know you felt that strongly about me, Auston.” Auston picked up a lot of things naturally: hockey, video games, fashion (although he understood that last one was very subjective). How to ‘boyfriend material’ or ‘couple goals’ with you was not one of them. He was in love with you, he was sure of it, he was just bad at showing his feelings. You had agreed to be his girlfriend and Auston was relieved. Despite what some people wanted to believe, he wasn’t an asshole. At least not on purpose. He treated you well, he made you laugh, he bought you stupidly expensive designer things even though you insisted he didn’t have to. Speak of designer items, you and Stephanie had gone shopping for dresses for a black tie Leafs’ charity event. Auston and Mitch were going to meet the two of you at Holt Renfrew to see your final selection before grabbing dinner. You had texted Auston and Mitch directions to the private shopping suite the store had given you which was really just a very large private dressing room with couches and snacks.

In a corner was a rolling rack full of colourful, floor length dresses. Auston sat down on a couch. “Y/N, Steph, are you guys ready?”

You took a deep breath as you shuffled your sky-high Louboutins out of the dressing area. You knew Auston was getting a custom navy blue suit for the event so you had chosen a dress made of sparkly sapphire blue lace on top of fabric that mimicked the colour of your skin. “So what do you think?” You asked Auston, as you spun around in the dress. You had spent all afternoon stepping in and out of dresses before you had chosen this one, thinking Auston would enjoy the lacey details. Auston knew you looked amazing, he just didn’t know how to put it into words. So he decided to go with something safe. “You look nice, babe.” The smile fell from your face and Auston knew he fucked up. Meanwhile, Mitch was looking lovingly into Stephanie’s eyes while telling how gorgeous she looked in her rose gold sequined dress. You slipped off the shoes and went back into the changing area, trying to swallow back your feelings of disappointment at Auston’s reaction or lack therefore. Stephanie escaped Mitch’s grasp and went to join you. “I wish I knew how to do that.” Auston admitted as he beckoned the sales associate to bring him the card machine so he could pay for your Louboutins. “It’s just that every time, I think of how I want to compliment Y/N, I’m worried it will sound stupid or creepy.” “You feel stupid giving your girlfriend compliments?” Mitch asked, slightly confused at his teammate's aversion. “Well when you say it like that, I sound like an idiot.” Auston admitted, handing his Black Amex to a sales associate. He placed the heel next to his foot, amused at how small your feet were compared to his. Mitch laughed. “Because you’re being an idiot, Mats. It’s a compliment, who cares if you sound creepy or stupid? And if that happens, you just have to remember not to do that next time.” Auston frowned, that seemed like an oversimplification of his problem. He took out his phone, seeing that you had a new post on your Instagram. It was a carousel of mirror selfies of a couple of the dresses you had tried on today. You rarely posted pictures of yourself claiming that no one wanted to see you. Auston wanted to comment something to encourage you, it would at least be a step in the right direction if he wanted to start giving you more compliments. He frowned when he saw some of the comments on your post. your face is cute and your cleavage is sexy 😁 we should chat

So damn cute 😍😍😍

Hey there can I add ur snapchat? Auston wanted to show these random accounts that you were spoken for. But all he had started and erased several different messages and was now staring at the blank comment box. How the hell were faceless accounts on Instagram better at complimenting you than your own boyfriend? Babygirl looks 🔥 I’m the luckiest guy in the world Can’t wait to Auston had spent so much time trying to craft a message, you and Stephanie walked out of the dressing room, back in your street clothes. Your dress would have to stay at the store since it still needed alterations to fit you properly. Things were frosty between you and Auston during dinner as you let Mitch and Stephanie steer the conversation. You were more sad than anything. Auston seemed to care a lot more about his appearance than you did since he was a public figure. You thought that maybe seeing you in that dress would make him want to excited for the event and the opportunity to show you off. You knew Auston wasn't someone who gave compliments easily but did he give them ever? Hell, even the waiter had complimented you more than your own boyfriend had when he replied "Excellent choice" when you told him you wanted the ceviche. You and Auston ordered an Uber to take you home. You shrugged off your jacket and threw it on the coat rack. With all the dress fittings, today had been an exhausting day. “Auston, if you don't like the dress, I can call the store and tell them we don't want it anymore.” Auston followed you as you went to the bathroom to wash your face. "Are you kidding? I love that dress." "You really weren't acting like it. But I guess that's normal for you." You say as you massage your face wash into your skin. "Listen Y/N, I feel really shitty that I don't give you all the compliments that you deserve." Auston sat on the edge of the bathtub as he watched you wipe the soap off your face. "I want to know how much it means to me when I'm wearing my gameday suit and you always make sure to tell me how handsome I look before I leave. Or how you'll Skype me when I'm on the road and just woke up and you'll still tell me how hot you think I am." "Wow, I'm making you really conceited." You reply, not sure where Auston was going to go with this. Auston laughed. "You make me feel really good about myself. I realize that I need to make you feel the same way." Auston lifted you up and placed you on the counter next to the sink. "You look really nice when your face is just washed, it's so soft and it smells so good." He kissed your cheek, his stubble scratching you. He took his phone out and snapped a photo of the two of you in the mirror. Your back was to the camera, his face was in your neck, one hand was holding his phone and the other reached across your back to cup your butt. "Don't we look cute together? I'm going to make this my lock screen." You bit your lip, you had to admit you and Auston looked good together in that photo. You especially liked how his tattooed arm looked against you. You kind of wanted him to send it to you so you could post it. You didn't have a lot of photos of just you and Auston. "You looked really beautiful in the dress you picked. It suits you so well." The smile Auston gave you was so genuine, your heart fluttered. Auston helped you out of your shirt. He watched his hands in the mirror as they lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your bare back to the mirror. Auston took the time to admire your bra. "Pretty." "Aus, your hands are cold." You giggled as your torso shivered when he removed your bra. Auston smirked as he used his extra cold thumbs to play with your nipples. "All the better to touch you with."

“Auston that’s not even how Little Red Ridinghood goes.“ You say as you lean in to kiss your boyfriend’s lips.

Part 2

#auston matthews #Toronto Maple Leafs #hockey writing #nhl players #nhl writing #nhl imagines #hockey players #hockey imagines #auston matthews x reader #auston matthews fanfic

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maren-reads-books · 5 years ago

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The Raven King by Nora Sakavic

With the Foxes having been hit with a major loss at the very beginning of the season, they have to learn how to cope with one less teammate while preparing for a perilous season. As they familiarize themselves with a less than ideal lineup they prepare themselves as best they can for their first ever game against the Edgar Allen Ravens. With pasts starting to come back to haunt the team they work their way though and try to push past it. As they work hard to succeed they grow closer than ever before and reveal things that never would have come to light if Neil wasn't on the team to stir things up and break boundaries. As they struggle and conquer together on the court and in their lives, the start to become a united front only for the events of the Christmas banquet finally force them apart. Will the team be able to survive or will they crumble under the pressure of their pasts?

--SPOILERS--

This review is a bit long so bear with me. I feel like this book is where the story finally starts to pick up and get interesting, more so later in the book but this book is definitely it. First off, i can't imagine the way the team is feeling after Seth’s death, they all have so many emotional problems (I’m looking at you Neil) that it must've been hard even if they weren't grieving. And I get it, Seth was an asshole and nobody really liked him but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't care about his death, I especially felt bad for Allison, she didn't deserve that. But I think in the long run (not to sound mean) Seth’s death helped bring the team closer together. And then in the midst of all this chaos, Andrew gets a call, the fateful call that will pretty much set up the entire book. It was great to learn more about the twins and their rivalry, but realizing that they’ve really only known each other for a couple of years was crazy, I can't imagine living most of your life not knowing someone was out there wearing your face. And yet they were both destined for crappy childhoods, like how much was fate messing with them huh? And then the decision to let Andrew be off his meds and play for an entire game comes along, that surprised me, but of course my crazy short blond son is willing to play along. And it works, but I'm sure Andrew felt horrible, but they won and that's what really matters, kind of. I know its not super important to the story but this part is important to me, they take Neil shopping. Finally! It seems crazy to me that he’s so resistant to people buying him anything, even something as simple as clothes, which is something that really needed to happen cause jorts? Really Neil? And the Andrew buys them matching phones?! So cute, also foreshadowing. Then the fated fall banquet arrives, where Neil starts to dig his grave deeper and deeper. First we find out that Dan used to be a stripper, but I’m so proud that she’s not ashamed fo what she did and isn’t going to let any stupid Raven get under her skin. And then we meet Jean, who of course goes on to list some of Neil’s other identities and therefore scare the shit out of him. I hated that Neil and subsequently Kevin found out that they knew who he was with all those people around, I can't imagine how that made him feel. And then after a little bit of antagonization from Riko, Neil snaps and gives his iconic, “You know, I get it” speech, like damn. One side of me is like ‘do you want to make things a little bit worse for yourself hunny?’ and the other side of me is like ‘yas go off on this abusive chauvinist asshole’ and then they tell Neil that really all along he wasn't running from his dad, he was running from Riko’s family and it's just like *boom* mic dropped. Again I can't imagine how truly afraid Neil was for his life at that very moment. His conversation about it with Kevin hit me hard, Neil’s been on the run for years, having someone know who he truly is must be the worst feeling ever, but he chooses to stay anyway, my boy has immense courage and probably a death wish but I'm so glad that that's what he chose. One thing I love the most about this book is the fact that Neil starts to form friendships, actual genuine bonds with real good people. It's crazy that he's never had real friends before but I’m glad that he's friends with these people, they're great in a messed up family dynamic kind of way. Learning the rest of the twins story from Nicky made me appalled, what kind of mother, let alone person could give up her kids change her mind but not have enough love or decenty in her heart to take both? Their story hurt my heart like you could not believe. And then Nicky implying that Andrew killed their mother(which he did but whatever) like damn, another mic drop. And then the topic completely changes form murder to ‘hey Nicky why are you gay?’ and Nicky’s answer is just hilariously on point for his character, the way he talks about Erik is just so adorable, I wish we got to see more of Erik in this series. But Nicky’s backstory is so sad! His parents are awful and I can't imagine what he went through before he truly started to love himself. Then their first game against the Ravens arrives. I was so nervous, I was literally sitting on the edge of my seat during this game. And even though they lost I was very proud of them, but I really just wanted to slit Riko’s throat. I hate him with all of my five foot one self. And then its Halloween and Neil (my magical boy) convinces the entire team to go out for drinks together, what an absolute miracle. But it's not all rainbows and sunshine, quite yet. Remember that call that Andrew got at the beginning of the book, well turns out the cop has come for a visit, how wonderful. But it's a very vague scene which again, is vital later in the book. But then we learn about Matt’s backstory. Like wow, lots of tragic backstories in this book amiraight? After Halloween Neil and Renee finally have in my opinion, a much needed heart to heart, or as close to it as two severely damaged people can get. And we get another backstory, wow, I think we're checking pretty much everyone off the list. Also I want to meet Kevin's girlfriend! I want to meet her now! Then another phone call that will set up the rest of this book. Nicky’s parents call to invite them over for Thanksgiving. What a mess, but Andrew, Kevin, Aaron, Nicky, and Neil all pile into the car and take a ride down to see the parents. But not before stopping by the Exy store to get Neil a new racket, which is also another crazy important detail. This book flows so nicely, even if the events that occur aren't nice, everything connects so seamlessly, it's perfect. And then we meet the parents, right off the bat I knew I would hate them and that they were only going to cause problems. Religion is okay, like Nicky says, it is an interpretation of faith, but people like Nicky's parents aren't willing to view it like that and that makes them dangerous, turns out I was right. Luring Andrew to Drake was cruel and horrifying. I hope they get sent away. The way Aaron defended his brother though, that kind of passion for someone you barely know is something that runs in the twins blood and that's the connection that will be vital to repairing their brotherhood. The way Neil tried to comfort Andrew, all that boy wants is to protect him. The description of Andrew being too high to even really process what had just happened to him, and the description of his laugh, it was enough to make me feel nauseous, it was such a descriptive and visceral scene. I don't agree with Aaron being arrested but whatever. But the fact that, after Andrew found out he was being sent away, he had enough trust in Neil to give Kevins care to him, like wow. That's such a big step in the right direction for their relationship. And I'm so gosh dang happy that Andrew is being taken off his meds, if they'd left him on them after what he went through I would have a serious problem. But Neil honey, your racket was used as a murder weapon and you want it back?! Like seriously? My boy needs some help, but he gets a new one so it's fine. Neil’s mission to fix Aaron and Andrew’s relationship? Such pure intentions for a boy with such a broken heart but it really shows how much he cares for these people, he has such a caring heart and has never deserved anything that he's gotten. The scene on page 269, yes I put the page number in there because it's important, when Neil asks the team if they are actually friends. Ugh, my heart did a little song and dance, I’m so happy that my broken boy has friends, and I’m glad that Aaron gets to keep Katelyn around, I like her, she's good for him. But the Christmas banquet arrives and doesn't bring any yuletide cheer with it. First things first, Riko admitted to being the cause of Seth's death, like wow didn't think that was going to happen but he's a cocky asshole so I really should have expected it. Second, he admits to setting up the thing with Drake and then tells Neil that he can have Andrew tortured/raped at his rehabilitation center if Neil doesn't cooperate. And so Neil sets off to Evermore for Christmas break, pretty much sealing his fate meanwhile the only one that knows is Kevin and Kevin can’t say a thing to stop him. I was literally screaming at my book by this point begging him not to go, but he's a stubborn little asshole. Okay, the fact that Riko put him in Kevin's place, was super symbolic of Riko’s insane personality. Then we find out that Kevin’s dad is Wymack? Like, uh, definitely didn't see that one coming, like never in a million years would I have expected that. I can't believe that they beat Neil to a pulp and then expected him to play? They're literally torturing this boy just to get him to play a sport, then Riko pulls out his knife and gets to work, and like Neil says Riko is “one seriously fucked up individual.” And then he’s home, honestly I think it works well that his time at Evermore wasn’t in the book, it makes it feel more real, I don't know how to describe it but it makes it feel like Neil tried to block everything out and then everything comes rushing back once he’s home. The fact that Wymack dropped everything to come and get him really goes to how how much he cares for these kids, they’re his family. Then coach offered to patch him up which was really nice of him but when Neil saw his tattoo and was literally ready to carve it of his face with a kitchen knife, you really get a peek into how much damage they truly did to him and how much he really cares for this team, that he's willing to put himself in danger just in order to stay with them. He's willing to fight his instincts to stay with his family, and that's what bravery looks like in my opinion. As I’ve said before and will say again, I love this series so much and would highly recommend it everyone.

-maren

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1358456 · 5 years ago

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Review Response, June 9-15, 2019

Once again, I wasn’t at home yesterday so this got delayed, and once again that 1 day delay doesn’t change anything whatsoever.

... And whatever the hell happened to the horizontal line breaks?! Now I’m just manually making those lines with - like a sucker...

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Destiny #006

1) Oh shit I finished the chapter so quickly it felt like it only lasted a couple minutes (though I know it’s a lot longer, I just got too eager). In any case, I was super excited to see White in this chap! I can’t wait to have her and Black interact, I absolutely love the way you write them (just like with Ruby and Sapphire kek). Speaking of Ruby and Sapphire: the jealousy from Sapphire’s side was on point! And I cannot wait for Sapphire’s reaction to Ruby’s answer. Btw nice sort of cliff hanger on that one. And tbh I have no idea what Ruby would say. I feel like he might say no because of Sapphire and the whole mega stone or keystone thing whatchamacallit, but again I’m not sure. Also, no? Blue answer your calls from Red? He’s worrying about you, love. All you need to do is answer and boom! On your way to happiness! Well. Sort of. I guess. Baby steps. But anyways, Dia’s (and Pearl’s no kidding) was adorable. And it made my little shipper heart happy, so kudos to you for that. And also I think it was great how you wrote Platinum as still polite yet attached; regal even when literally lying unconscious a couple minutes prior. It was so like her, and it still amazes me how on point you write these characters. Though admittedly Blue is not how she is in the manga (but that’s sort of the whole point, so like that’s what’s ideal). And so although you stay true to their personalities, it’s also great that you kept in mind how things would affect certain people and changes they way they behave in accordance to that. So kudos to you for that too. Also, definitely NOT going to be happy meeting Peter again in this story. I know it’s going to happen, but I can only hope that the guy spying on Blue (whom I assume is Peter) will not do anything to her, and if so isn’t revealed as Peter. Simply because I just don’t want to put up with his douchebaggery. Oof my reviews are long, but I get so caught up in it that I can’t help myself. Thank you again.

I do like writing with Black and White. But unfortunately, they are just 2 of MANY Dex Holders, so they won’t be getting as much focus as you’d like, especially since they’re particularly high on my Preference List. Damn. That said, when there’s one, there’s always the other with these two. Inseparable!

Indeed. All Blue has to do is answer Red’s call and everything becomes just fine. Another parallel to Legacy, if you will. In Destiny, Blue ignored the calls out of her fears and thus sh*t happens. In Legacy, Blue answered the call, and thus she was able to attain true happiness! But Destiny is the “mid-point” between SA and Legacy. The “mid-point” of the pairing shift. Blue’s progression towards Red has to be a gradual one.

Oh, Platinum. She must always retain her elegance, even if she had just gotten absolutely stomped a minute prior. That’s what makes her... her, you know?

Blue’s character traits of melancholy and depression (when alone) is mostly canon, but her steps towards rampancy is a... personality extrapolation given the canon. If she was to be pushed a certain way, how would she react? That kind of thing.

I’m loving your long reviews! But I do notice that it’s been a month since you started Destiny, and this is chapter 6. Out of 43. ... Hmm...

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Wings #001

1) Hello, hello! Right from the start, this story was surprising to see since I remembered that you said that you didn't like these sorts of high school AU things. I've only seen bits and pieces of this story being mentioned, but I didn't expect this sort of thing! The start was amusing; I found it funny how Y was paying attention to the way she looked, but by the end, I understand y now, and I feel sorry for the poor chap that ruined her reputation already.

Hey, you started on Wings! Yay!

Yep, I absolutely detest high school AU stories. But only because they’re all mostly the same thematically. Wings aims to avoid every single one of those common themes.

1) Self insert: I am not putting in “myself” with a disguise of the main character in a high school AU to “relive” high school but with my desired outcomes. No. Y in Wings is nothing like me. In fact, I’m basing Y’s aggression based on a web comic series I’ve seen years ago. And my high school “outcomes” were mostly identical to my desires anyways, so... meh.

2) Unpopular girl main character: My understanding of the main characters in “those high school AUs” is that the girls are always like timid and unpopular and gets bullied by the “pretty and popular” mean girls until the main character eventually triumphs once the “popular guy” falls in love and... blech. ... What do you think will happen in Wings if the “pretty and popular” mean girls were to bully Y? Yeah. Wings is nothing like those types of stories.

3) Romance: Y doesn’t give a f*ck about love in Wings. Some “cute popular” boy makes a move on her, she gives him the finger and then walks away. The end.

4) “(Name) is a normal girl attending high school and-”: ... Y is not normal. Yes, she wants a normal high school life, but literally right off the bat, I smashed that wish because Wings cannot be remotely similar to any of “those high school AUs”.

And on and on.

I’m glad you thought it was amusing! Wings is intended to be purely for fun. Especially later on as more shenanigans happens.

... But I’m curious that you’re leaving a GUEST review, instead of the signed one, currently with the ID of... er... ... keyboard mashing. Hmm...

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Wings #002

1) It's nice to see the Kalos group coming together! I still haven't finished reading the XY arc of the manga, but it's nice to see Y and Shauna's interactions. I like how you gave a brief insight to Shauna's life in her middle school years; getting bullied sucks, and it must have been hard for her if she prefers to be friends with someone who is viewed negatively and lowers her own reputation down, rather than increasing the chances of getting bullied again. Maybe I'm just overthinking this, but it's still nice! And for X...dang, I feel sorry for him...salt and pepper in his eyes and mouth? That was extreme. Overall, a pretty great chapter! It was amusing from the way X and Shauna unintentionally contributed to lowering Y's reputation in her classroom, and to watch Y beat up intimidating students was funny to imagine.

Yep. Y and Shauna will be one of those “BFFs”, but... not really like those. I have to retain Shauna’s canon personality, which is a bit... sarcastic? So she’ll have a more “cool” friendship with Y instead of those “omg hug” types or whatever. F*ck those.

Hmm... Shauna having a bad middle school experience is not really intentional, but it does make sense, if you think about it like that. But it could also be that Shauna just finds hanging out with Y to be amusing.

X getting salt and pepper poured into his face is LOOSELY based on what I went through in high school, where some prick randomly poured a packet’s worth of salt on my head (getting all that damn salt out of my hair took absolutely forever), and so I took revenge by emptying at least 30 packets of salt and pepper into a sheet of paper and then pouring all that into his hair the next day. So... poor me, poor that kid, and poor X. Hehe.

Oh, there will be more instances of Shauna inadvertently worsening Y’s reputation, with real and fake stories. But Y won’t really mind since it’ll already be too late. There’s no turning back with her reputation now.

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Wings #003

1) Like a bolt from the blue, it's time for a (ratherlatethanintended) review! I really missed the way you write and how you describe everything in detail. Really helps me visualize everything! I know that's the point of writing, but your writing style is effective since I tend to zone out whenever I read something too long. Plus, the way you have each chapter structured keeps things interesting. My interest in piqued with each passing chapter! I'm thoroughly enjoying this story so far.

Okay onto the chapter itself! I like how Grace is supportive of Y's choices even when her daughter's being really violent in school, though perhaps it's because Grace was a delinquent herself when she was younger? Maybe?

And the way X behaves and reacts whenever Y is around is both amusing and sad. Very traumatic for him I'm sure. I do hope that his and Y's relationship as friends improve as chapters go by.

Faitsu and Crystal finally appears so I'm happy about that! I hope more familiar faces appear soon! Speaking of which, I felt like the teacher at the end of chapter 1 could turn out to be someone we know, but I don't know if that's just me. (It's not at all possible due to your preferences, but I keep thinking it's Green, even though he's in the void of nonexistence.)

Getting decked in the face by a soccer ball...hah. What a way to meet your future teammate! ...assuming she ends up joining the soccer club that is.

Overall, a great chapter! I like how lively everyone is, even the nameless students!

Ehehe... thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying this deviation of a story of mine. After all, I’d never make another high school AU, ever, and this is the only one, so... it’s quite the deviant.

My thoughts on Grace is that she’s kind of a cool mother. ... Though I think that’s more... er... non XY arc. Hmm... Well, like mother like daughter... right?? Hehehe...

Oh, X and Y will be GOOD friends as time passes! Can’t have Y stressing out the poor boy, now can I? He will certainly prove to be a good supportive friend, though... not physically supporting (later on).

Faitsu and Crystal (and Black, technically) have appeared! More and more familiar faces will appear and be mentioned as time passes, of course. In fact, most everyone will be in Wings. Red, Blue, Gold, Crystal, Diamond, Pearl, Platinum, Black, White, Faitsu, X, Y, Sun, and Moon! ... Even Sword and Shield, if Wings lasts long enough. ... So... no, Green is not in Wings, since he has been banished into the void for eternity.

Yep. Decked in the face. And bloodshed. Real hard to get by ONE day without bloodshed, eh? Hehehe.

I look forward to seeing your review for the 4th chapter!

#qna

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kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

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Blitz/Rook oneshot in which Blitz would like their relationship to stay secret and Rook... doesn’t. - for @magehir and her adorable second hand embarrassment ❤ :) (Rating T, fluff/humour, ~2.2k words)

“Oh I’m sorry, what was the question?”, Rook asks, a sickly sweet smile on his face and voice raised to make sure everyone in his close vicinity can hear him – though it’s painfully obvious he’s doing it for the benefit of one special someone who shows no outward reaction but struggles not to draw his brows together or even roll his eyes.

Ash grants the Frenchman a weird look and repeats herself at a normal volume: “I was just wondering whether you’re seeing anyone at the moment. You seem so chipper lately.”

“Sadly, no. There’s no one like that in my life right now, though I wish there was. Someone with whom I could hold hands in public, you know?” Ash nods sympathetically and opens her mouth to reply but Rook isn’t done, not by a long shot. “I bet he’d make me ridiculously happy just by being there when I wake up or by being the last thing I see before I sleep and I’d want to shout out to the whole world just how glad I am to have him.” The redhead is looking increasingly confused now at all the unnecessary detail yet is clearly too polite to interrupt. “Believe me, if there was someone, I’d want everyone to see how disgustingly happy we are and to listen to me gushing endlessly about how wonderful he is and -”

“Sorry to interrupt, Rook, but do you have a minute?”, Blitz chimes in after turning towards him with a fake smile. “I’d like you to take a look at my pistol, I feel like its accuracy is going down but have no idea why.”

Rook mirrors his vaguely pained expression perfectly and chirps: “I’m sure your gun is working fine, Elias.” They stare at each other wordlessly, neither of them willing to back down, while Ash just judges them silently. “We were just speaking of relationships. How would you show your significant other how much you love them?”

He’s ready for this one. “By respecting their boundaries and accepting compromises without complaints should it come to a clash in personal values”, he replies evenly.

The boyish face before him darkens considerably. “The accuracy is getting worse, you said?”, Rook grits out and grabs his sleeve, proceeds to drag him away from an entirely bemused Ash and down the nearest corridor, into the closest room that’s unoccupied. It’s resembling a typical interrogation room, the only furniture being two chairs, a cheap table and a large mirror on the wall – and isn’t it ironic that they’re going to have this conversation in a place like this. Blitz doesn’t miss how Rook purposefully positions himself with his back to the mirror so he doesn’t have to see his own angry expression.

“You’re being too obvious”, he states and it was undoubtedly the wrong thing to start with since Rook’s temper flares.

“Oh yeah? First you explicitly forbid me to talk to you, now I’m not allowed to talk about you? It was implicit, she didn’t have any idea what I was on about -”

“Which is exactly my point, she’s going to wonder until she looks more closely at what you said, maybe mentions it to Jordan whom you told that your ‘ideal type’ is someone your height with dirty blonde hair and an accent and oh, who could that be?”

“You’re being paranoid. They have better things to do than to gossip, do you genuinely think they compare notes or something? Why the hell do you even care that much whether they know or not? Jäger is gayer than the two of us combined and no one talks shit about him. Except for Bandit, but he badmouths everyone.”

Blitz heaves a sigh and rubs his forehead in an attempt to tidy his thoughts. It’s far from the first time they’re talking about this yet it always seems to drain him, leaves him weary and oddly exposed. “I’m not ashamed of you”, he says quietly and breathes a little more freely when Rook’s annoyance softens, “really, I’m not. You’re great, I’m insanely lucky to have you and I don’t tell you this often enough. But I just need some time. Alright? Just a bit more. Please.”

The young man seems appeased but it doesn’t mean much, he appeared satisfied the last time they had this argument. “How long? You keep postponing it, every time I ask it’s just ‘a little longer’. What if it’s ‘a little longer’ for a year? Give me something, mon cœur, just so I know you mean it.”

“I promised you I’d work on it, right?” A nod – of course Rook remembers. “It wasn’t empty: I told Seamus earlier.”

At this, the Frenchman’s eyes light up. “Did you really?”

“Yes. He was very supportive, promised not to pass it on and wished us all the best. I couldn’t have asked for – why are you looking at me like that?”

Rook is suddenly beaming at him full force, all traces of his earlier ire vanished into thin air and he’s almost bouncing with joy. “That’s – thank you. Why didn’t you tell me right away? Oh, I thought -”

He cuts off abruptly and Blitz can guess effortlessly what’s going on in his pretty head: “Seriously? You thought I’d never tell anyone and dump you without anyone ever knowing we’re together? Julien, please. Come here.” He pulls him into a tight hug that’s reciprocated just as eagerly and strokes his back reassuringly. Even though he knows his lover can go overboard with his emotional responses, the fact that Blitz must’ve given him reason to worry makes him feel guilty regardless. “I’m sorry”, he murmurs against Rook’s cheek, “I shouldn’t have waited so long. You’re worth so much more than my pride.”

The man in his arms draws a shaky breath but manages to pull himself together and when they separate again, there’s a genuine smile illuminating the sparse room. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for pressuring you. I really should respect your boundaries.”

“It’s alright.” Blitz strokes over Rook’s cheek on an impulse, relishes the soft skin under his fingertips. “If you want, we can tell Emmanuelle next, maybe even today. You said you’d like her to know and she’d also not tell anyone.”

“Yeah. That’d be nice. Let’s do it together.” And just like that, Blitz’ heart is singing again. Relief and fondness are making him light-headed, making him cherish how they seem to have overcome an obstacle in their way and only grown closer in doing so. He leans in and Rook’s eyelashes fanning out as his lids fall shut are the last thing he sees just before their lips touch. It’s simple and short at first, nothing more than a brush, only then Blitz realises he’s far from done and repeats it, catches Rook’s top lip between his own, tilts his head the other direction and then they’re kissing properly.

Almost chastely, their mouths slide together, work against each other, up to the point where Rook’s tongue darts out, politely asks for entry that Blitz grants generously and it morphs into something more than just an affectionate gesture. It’s addicting and lovely, still sugary sweet and slow but now it kindles a fire in Blitz to taste his lover more, more deeply and more intimately. He pulls their bodies flush, starts toying with Rook’s tongue in earnest and wonders when trading spit with someone, with another man became this desirable, this all-out attractive to him. He can probably accredit it to Rook and Rook alone, he kisses like a young god and is always patient enough to adapt to Blitz’ pace.

When they break apart again, both of them are smiling at their shared secret that would persist even if everyone else knew they care about each other – because no one could possibly understand how much. Blitz’ hand is in the nape of Rook’s neck and though one of his rules was that nothing would ever happen at work, he still pulls him back in and invades his mouth nonetheless, allows the strong legs to walk him backwards until he hits a wall. They fuse together, hips moving against each other more out of habit than need yet Blitz feels himself grow hard; Rook smells delicious and the way he nips at Blitz’ lip is nothing short of magical. The atmosphere has shifted completely, turned into something warm, playful, intimate.

“I bet this isn’t the gun Ash thinks I’m inspecting right now”, Rook murmurs and drags his fingers over the bulge in Blitz’ jeans, both of them grinning good-naturedly.

“We can take care of this when we’re done with work, hm?”

“Yeah. You said you wanted to get out more, right? We can take Mark’s car, I’ve got his keys, just drive out into the countryside somewhere and make love on the back seat.”

“I’d rather not soil his upholstery”, Blitz responds with a chuckle and grimaces while trying to adjust his crotch without actually using his hands. Rook notices what he’s doing and simply reaches into his trousers and underwear, grabs the half-hard shaft and pulls it into a non-incriminatory position, not without giving it a few light tugs for good measure.

“There you go, you’re decent now. Don’t talk to Bandit though, he’s probably the only one who’d both stare at your crotch creepily and unnecessarily and comment on it.”

Blitz just agrees with him and, with a final kiss and a quick squeeze to Rook’s buttocks, they step away from each other and out of the room. “What would I do without you?”, he asks rhetorically, gets a bright grin in return and then moves to walk back just as Jäger rounds the corner with what looks like a bowl of popcorn in his hands. As soon as he spots the two, his eyes widen comically and he seems to fight the urge to run away immediately.

“Oh! Uh, hi”, he greets them awkwardly. “I was just – do you want some popcorn?”

His teammate just stares at him, uncomprehending, until a terrible thought crosses his mind. He looks back at the door from which they’ve just emerged, then at the door next to it, thinks of the large mirror and the interrogation theme of the furniture and dear God please no. He prays for the adjacent room to be empty but the way Jäger involuntarily twitches as soon as he grabs the handle already tells him unambiguously it’s not going to be.

Blitz is greeted with entirely too many pairs of eyes who stare at him decidedly too entertained – the small chamber is cramped with people, he sees Bandit, the entirety of the SAS, Ash and even two of the Russians. Past them, he has an unobstructed view of the room he and Rook have just left and it’s not hard to imagine what in the world happened. As if on commando, at least five pieces of paper jump up, all of them labelled with a number and it takes Blitz a mere second to understand they’re fucking rating him as if he’d just ice skated competitively.

“Oh my fucking God”, he says because there’s literally nothing else he could say.

“You missed the crotch grab”, Bandit addresses Jäger over Blitz’ shoulder with a gleeful glint in his eyes, “don’t shake Rook’s hand unless you want to get a handful of a different German cock for once.”

“Beautiful”, Kapkan adds and pretends to wipe away a tear with his note that reads a solid 9.5. “You two are ready for the stage, it had everything: conflict, reconciliation, passion and romance.”

Blitz can’t believe it. He’s just standing there, thunderstruck, and gapes at the audacity. “How long -”

“Originally, Marius and I wanted to fuck in here”, Bandit explains helpfully and with a shit eating grin, “but then you two came in and I figured others might appreciate the show as well, so I gathered an audience.”

“I’m revoking your rights to my car, by the way”, Mute butts in and holds out his hand. “For obvious reasons.”

Rook seems surprisingly fine with the whole situation, quite the opposite to Blitz whose face must’ve adopted the colour of a tomato by now. He steps inside and drops the keys in question into Mute’s palm. “That’s fair enough. But why the fuck do we only get a 3?”

Bandit looks at the number he wrote and shrugs. “Neither of you moaned like a bitch, so it can’t have been that good. Or is that not normal? Is that just something Marius does?”

“Kill me”, Jäger mumbles and expertly expresses Blitz’ mood in those two words alone.

“I, for one, think you two make an adorable couple”, Smoke raises his voice and earns unanimous and very vocal agreement, especially from Thatcher who’s holding an impressive 10. “And there’s nothing you need to worry about, especially because you’re both so embarrassingly obvious that most of us knew already anyway.”

Ash just snorts at that. “Yeah. Gun inspection. Really?”

And when Rook starts arguing with Glaz about the fact that he awarded them a measly 7, Blitz’ mortification coupled with an increasingly strong death wish take over and he shuts the door once more, locking out the incessant voices and at least some of the teasing. He turns to Jäger who’s watching him with a sympathetic expression and says: “You know, I suddenly feel like getting very, very drunk.”

His teammate looks down at the popcorn he’s still carrying and nods slowly. “Yeah. Sounds good. The first round is on me, mate.”

#rainbow six siege #blitz #rook #blitz/rook #fanfic #oneshot #magehir you only have yourself to blame #this is what happens if we binge brooklyn 99

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