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j3ssisam3ss · 4 years ago

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Childhood Friends - Fluff

For @animebookworm16

It got kind of long and I’m not really sure it still counts as fluff, but here’s my piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25, Childhood Friends.

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was five years old the first time he met a girl his age. And in typical League of Assassins style, he went for efficiency by meeting ten at once.

“These are your betrothed,” Talia told him. “All but one will be dead by your twelfth birthday. You will marry the sole survivor on your eighteenth birthday and produce an Heir to carry on the great legacy of the League of Assassins.”

Nine of the girls heard the words without so much as a flinch. The last stared in shock at Talia, then broke into tears.

“Quiet, Marinette,” Talia hissed.

“No,” she yelled defiantly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want my mama!”

Talia backhanded her and she fell to the floor with a yelp.

Damian surveyed the girl – Marinette – with distaste.

“Mother, surely you don’t consider this sniveling coward worthy to compete for my hand?”

“Her mother, Sabine Cheng, was our best assassin for years before she turned traitor. I suppose she’s lost her touch if she raised such a weak daughter.” Talia shrugged elegantly. “No matter, if she turns out to be useless, we’ll ship her mutilated corpse back to Sabine as a reminder of what happens when you cross the League.”

She waved the girls away. “To your training now.”

Damian watched as Marinette sniffled and followed the other girls out the door.

She won’t last a week.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was five years old the first time she won a fight. And in typical Dupain-Cheng fashion, she did so in the most unpredictable way possible.

“You’re going down, pigtails,” shouted a pretty brunette, charging at Marinette with a sword that was as tall as she was.

With a startled shriek, Marinette darted away. She hated how behind she was here. Back home, she was good at everything – reading circle, art class, tussles when the teacher’s back was turned. Here, it felt like she was constantly playing catch-up.

Not to mention, the constant threat of death was not fun.

Skidding around a corner of the labyrinth arena, she tripped over a protruding stone and fell to the ground. The brunette grinned viciously, advancing towards her.

Marinette smiled nervously. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“Not a chance, shortie,” said the brunette.

Marinette glanced around frantically.

I don’t want to die!

She reached for a rock, a stick, anything that could help her fight, but came up with only a handful of sand. With a pleading glance heavenward, she flung it into the brunette’s face and lurched to her feet, grinning when the girl had to stop to get the grit out of her eyes.

Taking off into the labyrinth of passages, she nearly stumbled again, this time over a nearly buried metal object.

She shifted away the dirt surrounding it and smirked. “Finally, a weapon I know how to use.”

Ten minutes later, the watching League members straightened in surprise as the smallest and weakest of Damian’s betrotheds utterly decimated her opponent.

With a frying pan.

“What are you doing here?”

The two children spoke in unison, glaring daggers at one another.

“I always come here,” Marinette said. “It’s my drawing spot.”

“The vents are my domain, Dupain-Cheng,” Damian said. “Get out.”

Two years’ worth of resentment and anger simmered beneath Marinette’s skin.

Drawing is the last thing I have of home. I won’t let him take it from me.

“No.”

Damian looked thunderstruck and Marinette couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

“I am Heir to the Demon! You will obey me!”

“You may be Heir to the Demon, but right now you’re also a kid skipping classes,” Marinette argued. “And if you make me leave, I’ll tell Talia exactly where you go when you’re not in class.”

Ha, take that, you tyrant!

Damian froze. Marinette watched as emotions overtook his face – anger, resentment, then acceptance.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Marinette smiled and returned to her sketchbook – which wasn’t really a sketchbook, just some loose papers she’d tucked into her history book.

A few minutes later, Damian peered over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” she said, holding out a few of her older sketches, the ones she wouldn’t mind losing if Damian decided to rip them. “There’s your mother fighting, cook making soup, the sunset from this other spot in the vents – actually, that one’s pretty bad because I didn’t have any colors.”

Damian stared at the drawing of his mother.

“I’m keeping this,” he announced.

Well, at least he didn’t tear it up.

The next week, when Marinette arrived at her drawing spot, Damian was already there. With an annoyed grunt, he shoved a sketchbook and colored pencils into her hands.

Marinette looked between him and the supplies in confusion. “What’s this for?”

“Teach me how to draw.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking longingly at the colored pencils. Then, she pushed them back towards Damian.

“I want you to give me weapons training. As often as I teach you drawing.”

I may be naturally talented at combat, but the other girls have been training their entire lives. I need to catch up.

Damian eyed her suspiciously. “That’s against the rules.”

“So? Are you scared?”

“Never.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

Damian lunged, making a displeased noise when his quarry danced out of his reach.

“You’re slow today, Dami,” Marinette teased. “Losing your touch?”

Marinette was no longer the scared little girl she’d been at five, or even at seven. She’d thrown herself into her training with single-minded determination and two years of training with Talia by day and Damian by night had made her a formidable – and snarky – combatant.

“Never,” Damian replied. His next attack nearly threw her off-balance.

With a grunt, Marinette recovered her footing and countered with a flurry of blows that would have left a lesser opponent dizzy.

Damian smirked, parrying each attack easily. “Completely mediocre. Should I tell my mother that her protégé is slipping?”

Although he’d never admit it, Damian was proud of her. She’d gone from being the worst of the League’s trainees to the only one able to keep up with him in a fight.

“Me? Slipping? Not a chance.” Marinette flipped backwards, knocking his weapon away. “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Marinette?” He scooped up his katana, readying himself for her next move.

“The floor is lava.”

With a startled intake of air, he leaped onto the nearest table.

“Really?” he asked, half annoyed, half amused.

Marinette giggled, peering down at him from her spot in the ceiling rafters. “I thought we could use an extra challenge.”

Damian glanced up at her. “You just like having the high ground.”

“Technically speaking, it’s the high rafter,” she pointed out.

“Either way, it won’t prevent me from defeating you,” Damian said, pulling himself into the rafters.

At that moment, the door opened and they both immediately went still.

“Damian? Are you here?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Skipping again?” she mouthed.

Damian shrugged in response.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette gestured to the vents behind him. “I’ll meet you in the lower training rooms to finish our bout.”

“Marinette!” The teacher startled as she caught a glimpse of the pigtailed girl. “What are you doing up there?”

Effortlessly, the girl swung down from the ceiling, drawing the teacher’s attention away from Damian’s hiding place.

“Just improving my arm strength, Mistress Eva.” As she distracted his teacher with false information about his whereabouts, Damian climbed into the vents.

Marinette makes a surprisingly tolerable ally.

It didn’t seem to matter how many people Marinette killed; it never got easier. Surrounded by the bodies of Deathstroke’s traitors, she retched.

She was alone. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, she’d gotten separated from the rest of the League’s loyalists.

I need to get moving. I’m an easy target right now.

With a shuddering breath, she climbed to her feet and made her way out of the compound and into the shadows. It was there, staring at the ruins of the League’s strongest base, that the realization hit her.

“I’m free,” Marinette whispered, tears trickling down her face.

The Head of the Demon was dead, his followers scattered.

“I can finally go home.”

She ignored the voice in her mind that said her home was here, with the League, with Damian. She ignored the tightness in her chest at the thought of never seeing Damian again. She ignored the fear that he might already be dead.

The League kidnapped me. Talia abused me. Even if I managed to be happy here, I owe the Al Ghuls nothing. A vow of loyalty made under duress is no vow at all.

Her hands curled into fists.

And if they come for me again, I’ll be ready.

Damian scowled as their plane descended into Gotham.

“This is imbecilic. I should be assisting you in decimating our enemies, not hiding like a frightened child.”

“Damian,” his mother’s voice was cold. “This is not up for negotiation. You will stay here and train with your father.”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied bitterly. A moment passed, then he tilted his head in thought. “But what of my betrothed? If she is to be my equal, should she not train with me?”

Talia studied him carefully. “You use the singular of betrothed,” she noted. “Despite the fact that three remain alive. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me which one you consider your wife-to-be?”

“Tt. Your protégé, the Cheng girl, is the only one that even approaches competent. You know this.”

“I also know that you trained her separately – against my orders,” Talia said.

Damian nearly flinched. “And yet you didn’t stop me.”

“I wonder if that was a mistake,” his mother said. “You feel more for her than you should.”

“She is an effective ally. That is all.”

“Then you won’t mind being separated from her for a while.”

“Not at all, Mother,” Damian lied.

“Marinette? Is that you?” Her mother looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Marinette smiled. “Hello, Mama.”

Sabine reached out a shaking hand to cup her face. “How are you here? We saw you die.”

“Sabine, do you know where – ” Tom dropped the pan of croissants. “Marinette?”

He jumped over the counter and raced to her. Marinette took a step back before her mind caught up with her body.

This is Papa, you idiot. He’s not a threat.

She threw herself into his arms, shoving away her fears.

Twisting to face her mother, she said, “I don’t know how my death was faked, but I never died. The League kidnapped me.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her.

“The League?” Sabine’s face went pale. “What did they want with you?”

“The usual,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Revenge on you for leaving and a capable assassin and potential wife for Damian if I turned out to be any good.”

“Who’s Damian?” Tom asked with a frown.

Marinette grinned. “Oh, Damian’s great! He’s the Heir to the League, but he’s actually pretty okay for an assassin. He helped me get good enough to survive. You know, after I blackmailed and bribed him.”

“What?”

Meeting his father did not go the way Damian had imagined.

Talia always spoke of Bruce Wayne’s great intellect, his strength in combat, his determination in all things. She never mentioned his brainless playboy act, his absurd prohibition of killing, or his habit of taking in strays. Damian wasn’t sure which one was most offensive, but he was incredibly disappointed in his father regardless.

He had to reassess after he saw Batman at work. When not purposely acting like a buffoon, Bruce Wayne was everything his mother had described and more, entirely deserving of Damian’s respect.

He set out to prove himself in his father’s eyes. It didn’t go well. Whatever he did, it was the wrong thing. In any fight with the imposter sons, Damian was punished – even if he won. Assisting his father with Wayne Enterprises was met with an eye-roll and a request to stay away from Bruce’s office.

It should have made Damian angry but instead it hurt and Damian did not understand why.

And then his father was gone. Richard Grayson became Batman.

Damian became Robin. Finally.

And yet the triumph felt hollow.

Not to mention, it came with strings attached: ‘Murder is bad.’ ‘Justice, not vengeance.’ ‘Robin doesn’t kill.’ ‘Protect rather than avenge.’

Grayson’s teachings were imbecilic. And yet he had to follow them. His mother had yet to finish with the traitors.

He wondered where Marinette was, if she was undergoing similar training, if she fought the way he did to reign in the bloodlust. Considering how she had to hide her dislike of killing, how she helped heal her competitors, he thought probably not.

Slowly, things got easier. Grayson became tolerable. Damian learned to suppress the instinct, the muscle memory that said ‘kill or be killed.’ He found an adoration for animals and learned to deal with his classmates. He finally began to understand why Grayson and his father valued life so highly. His father came back and he chose to deny the League. Wayne Manor became home.

On days when he struggled, he retreated to his room and the comfort of his sketchbook. And if a certain blue-eyed girl made an appearance every few pages, well, who would know but him?

Returning home did not go the way Marinette had imagined.

She knew it wouldn’t be sunshine and roses, of course. But she hadn’t expected the magnitude of the changes in her home, or in herself.

School was laughably easy. Marinette had the equivalent of several college degrees. Finding x and learning how to spell ‘earthquake’ was a waste of her time. Instead, she spent class drawing and coming up with increasingly complex plans for fighting off the League should they try to kidnap her again.

She kept herself closed off from her classmates – she didn’t know how she’d ever called them friends. They were neutral parties at best – not one ever stood up for her against Chloe. Her parents encouraged them to give her classmates a chance, but the League had trained her well. Misplaced trust could kill. And Marinette had fought long enough for survival to know that dropping your guard was a death knell.

She hated hurting her parents though.

Though they tried to hide it, she saw the pain cross their faces when she flinched away from hugs. When she moved like an assassin rather than a child. When she gave away her stuffed animals. When she skipped family game night and spent her time training.

She hated hurting her parents. So she changed.

Marinette locked away her lethal grace, faking clumsiness and turning it into an art form. She hid her weapons, training only when her parents were asleep. She returned to family game nights; she initiated hugs. At school, she became bubbly and friendly again, though she trusted no one.

More than anything, she tried to atone. She sought out those in need and tried to help – whether by providing food, babysitting, or making them warm clothing. She discovered an interest in fashion design, but mostly stuck to making the essentials for those in need. She met a tiny floating bug named Tikki and became a superhero.

On days when she struggled, she retreated to her room and the comfort of her sketchbook. And if green eyes and a cocky smirk featured prominently in the book, well, who would know but her?

Damian frowned as he followed his brother into Wayne Enterprises.

"I don't understand why it's so important for me to be here."

"C'mon, Baby Bird!" Dick said. "You said you wanted to be more involved in the company!"

"I meant the business side of things," Damian said. "I have no interest in showing around a gaggle of unruly teenagers."

"You're a teenager too," Dick pointed out. "It'll be fun!"

Damian sniffed. "I'm an adult. And fun, really? Surely you don't truly believe that?"

Dick sighed. "Just give it a chance, okay? They seem like really great kids."

They walked into the lobby and Damian stopped short, eyes catching on long black hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Marinette?"

In truth, Marinette wasn't all that excited about the Wayne Enterprises tour. The architecture was interesting, sure, but her class had a habit of making themselves a target and Bruce Wayne's patronage was not helping.

She gave it three days, at most, before they got in trouble with Gotham's Rouges.

Which meant she was on 'keep the class from dying' duty. Joy.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, which meant that she heard the faint whisper of her name from an unfamiliar voice.

"Marinette?"

Forest-green eyes filled with far too much emotion had her breath catching in her throat.

"Damian?"

With obvious effort, the League's Heir pulled himself together. "Fancy meeting you here, Dupain-Cheng."

His voice. Oh, kwami, it should be illegal to look AND sound that good. Nope. Nope. Not doing this. He's an assassin, get your act together, Marinette.

"Al-Ghul." She was proud that her voice betrayed nothing. "I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here. This doesn't seem like your scene."

She reached out for a handshake and was taken off guard when Damian kissed her hand instead. She blushed.

"It's Wayne now," Damian said. "I'm... no longer associated with the Al-Ghuls. Or their business."

He's not an assassin anymore? Yes! I knew you were a good person deep, deep down, Dami!

"Really? I broke ties with them several years ago myself."

See that, Damian? We're both good people. Good people that would be great toget - no! Bad Marinette!

Damian grinned. "In that case, I look forward to reconnecting. Perhaps after the tour?"

Oh, kwami, I'm doomed.

"I'd like that."

"What was that?" Dick asked in a low voice. "I've never seen you open up to someone so quickly."

With difficulty, Damian tore his gaze from Marinette.

Stars, she grew up gorgeous.

Damian smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. I met Marinette over a decade ago."

I wonder, does she still consider our betrothal valid?

"Wait, so she's an assassin?" Grayson blanched. "Who is she here to kill? Who do I have to protect? Ugh! Why can't you ever have normal friends?"

"Relax," Damian chided. "She's an ex-assassin. Like me."

"That does not make me feel better. Who is she to you?"

Damian hummed in thought, running through years of teasing, fighting, and spending time together. "She was my first friend."

And maybe now something more.

#daminette #maribat #maribat angst and fluff april

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lilith-of-rivia · 4 years ago

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The Bard’s Sister

Geralt X Reader

Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person)

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was.

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me.

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases.

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not.

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.”

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity.

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly.

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding.

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over. I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher.

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked.

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother.

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise.

“I don’t know…”

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head.

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while.

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall.

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both.

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased.

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently.

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly.

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens.

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me.

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself.

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen.

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description.

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece.

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes.

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me.

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from.

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged.

“What?” He asked.

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand.

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster?

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies.

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy.

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment.

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance.

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again.

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head.

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.”

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one.

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion.

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest.

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him.

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded.

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth.

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst.

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me.

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face.

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head.

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated.

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him.

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered.

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled.

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store.

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers.

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused.

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil.

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were.

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit.

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up.

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins.

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything.

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was.

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was.

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me.

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter.

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes.

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.”

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it.

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me.

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle.

“For?”

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt.

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly.

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me.

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face.

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had.

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home.

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet.

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait.

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed.

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly.

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches.

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin.

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face.

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk.

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all.

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes.

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin.

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray.

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him.

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone.

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t.

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them.

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face.

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me.

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache.

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke.

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend,

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him.

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was.

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled.

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words.

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes.

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with.

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it.

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair.

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly.

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked.

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about.

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious.

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye.

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting.

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face.

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me.

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker.

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked.

“Seriously?” I asked him.

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him.

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands.

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked.

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again.

“Good night, dove.”

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fangirlovestuff · 4 years ago

Text

Butterfly Effect - Steve Rogers x reader

a/n - Hey lovely people! this is for @holylulusworld‘s 10,000 followers celebration, congrats!! (even though you have a lot more now lol). the divider is by the amazing @firefly-graphics. italics are for thoughts / flashbacks, and the first parts are all in chronological order. Enjoy!<3

Summary: The words on Steve’s arm point to the circumstances in which he will meet his soulmate, and they’re very specific, or so he thinks.

Prompt: 11 - soulmate AU

Word Count: ~2,070

Warnings: reader gets a tatoo but basically this is just a huge fluff fest:)

"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."

These are the words that were imprinted on Steve's arm since the moment he was born. When Steve could finally read, he asked his mother why are the words there.

"These words are very important," Sarah explained. "They are the first words your soulmate will ever say to you."

"What's a soulmate?" asked a confused Steve.

"A soulmate," his mother answered, "is someone you're gonna love very much. They're the person you'd probably choose to spend the rest of your life with. Their soul is connected to yours in inexplicable ways, almost as if they were one and the same. This," she pointed at the words, "is the sign for you to realize when you'll meet them. Somewhere out there, there's someone with the first words you're gonna say to them."

"So I'll be drawing an owl when I meet my soulfriend?" Steve asked.

"It's soulmate, dear. And I guess you probably will."

"And this… soulmate, will they buy me ice cream?" Steve asked hopefully, not quite getting the point.

Sarah giggled at her son. "Yes, I think they will if you'd want that. But also, they would love you so much, and you'll have the most fun in the world with them."

"Was da your soulmate?" Steve asked.

"He is," his mother answered, the smile on her face tinged with a little sadness that Steve hadn't picked up on.

Okay, so two round eyes, and then the body, and I should add some feathers and –

"Mr. Rogers!" the math teacher said sternly. "I haven’t assigned any equations yet, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep your attention on me instead of your notebook, for now."

"Yes, Ms. Williams," Steve replied sheepishly.

"You know you've already met everyone in this class right? No one here is your soulmate," Bucky whispered once their teacher turned back to the board.

"But I still want to get better at it," Steve shrugged defensively. "She's gonna say it's cute, Buck. For that to happen it needs to actually be cute."

"I don't get your whole fuss around soulmates Steve, but whatever. Suit yourself," Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You don't believe in soulmates?" Steve asked.

"Well, I wouldn't strictly say that, it's just… my words are 'watch it, weirdo.' Call me crazy, but I'm not that stoked to find that person," Bucky chuckled.

"Mr. Barnes! Something to share with the rest of us?" Ms. Williams said.

"No Ms. Williams, I'm sorry," Bucky said timidly and Steve snickered.

Steve could draw owls in his sleep if he needed to. Right now, his pencil was sketching over the page, lightly shading the wings of the owl and the –

"Rogers! You're on in five!" the stage manager called out to him.

Steve sighed and snapped his sketchbook shut. He kept hoping that maybe it was one of the girls on tour with him, but so far it wasn't going so well. The government-mandated entertainment had quite enough free time so Steve could draw as many owls as he wanted to in between shows.

He put the notebook aside and slipped on the cowl they had him wear. The Captain was needed on stage.

"So people take art classes… for fun?" Steve asked, puzzled.

"Yeah," Natasha answered. "Lately you're always drawing away in your little notebook, so if you want to, I could help you sign up for a class. Maybe they can teach an old dog some new tricks," she smirked.

"Ha ha," Steve answered dryly. Yet he couldn't help considering the idea.

The thing was, Steve wasn't sure if his soulmate was still out there to be found. You'd think he would feel a difference, some indication if his soulmate was dead, but when he went out of the ice, Steve felt nothing different. There was still a part of him that was hoping that maybe, just maybe, fate planned this. That his soulmate was still out there.

"That's a great color scheme, Steve," the instructor said, and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Thanks," he smiled, albeit a tad shakily.

This was the fifth class Steve took this month, and yet, no luck. He wasn't even drawing an owl, and yet the start of that sentence made him jump as if he didn't have super… well, everything.

But that doesn't mean he was giving up. His tattoo was still in place, even after all of these years, it hadn't faded. So he had to believe he could still find his soulmate.

These times were a lot more different than his. People here weren't always inclined to live by that philosophy of "soulmates". Some people chose to simply disregard that and find someone they loved regardless. Steve admired that, but he couldn't say he understood. If you're offered your perfect partner, why walk out of that?

"It's called instant gratification," Nat chuckled when he raised that question to her. "People like to have what they want as soon as possible. Besides, some people don't believe it's real, or don't believe it'll work for them. So, they take matters into their own hands."

Steve was more patient than the average person. He waited decades in ice, what's a few more years to find his soulmate?

Bucky had found his soulmate. Steve couldn't believe it.

Sure, he was happy for Bucky. When he came back today from the store with nothing but a small slip of paper, Steve had half a mind to smack him upright the head for not getting anything. Probably forgot his wallet.

But when Bucky showed him the paper he read the words scribbled onto it – "call me, weirdo, xx" and a phone number, Steve pulled Bucky into a tight hug, patting him on the back.

"Congrats, pal," he smiled.

Bucky beamed. Yes, Bucky Barnes, the terrifying Winter Soldier was beaming and his eyes were shining like a high-schooler in love. And Steve wished that could've been him.

He really was happy for Bucky. That's the thing – this was a good thing. Besides from his best friend finding the love of his life, it also meant that Steve's soulmate is almost definitely out there. But he couldn't help feeling a spark of resentment deep inside of him. It made him feel guilty, but he couldn't help the bitter thought that Bucky was never too keen on finding his soulmate while Steve did everything in his power to find them. And yet, Bucky found his while Steve's still in the dark.

So, to get out of his own head a little, Steve decided to go paint in the park.

To be honest, it was a wonder that Steve hadn't gotten awfully tired of drawing by now. But he still loved it, loved the quiet it cultivated in his mind.

Steve set up a canvas and looked around. People weren't noticing him, busy in their own endeavors. He almost started drawing an owl out of instinct, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Steve wanted to forget about the whole soulmate business for a while and just draw.

He saw a butterfly fly over and land on a nearby bush. Steve focused on the butterfly, trying to remember as much as he can. The rest he can improvise. The butterfly fluttered its wings for a few seconds before flying away.

Steve started drawing the butterfly. Once he had the pencil sketch, he started filling it in with the paints he had brought. He started with the little circles on its wings, filling them in so the shade will be just right, and he was about to move on to the rest on the wings when –

"That's a cute owl you're drawing there."

"It's a butterfly," Steve turned around, puzzled, before realizing what you had just said to him.

Your mouth opened in a gentle gasp. Your hair and clothes were a little messy from your long day at work. And at that moment, when you were caught completely off guard, Steve first met you. You were the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on, and he was an artist. He stared at you in utter shock while you returned him a similar look.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" your friend asked, sitting next to you with a worried look.

"I'm tired of looking for my soulmate. Do you know how hard it is to make conversation about butterflies?" you looked back at her. "I want to do this," you told her.

The tattoo artist came closer. "Okay ma'am, you wanted a simple butterfly, right?"

"Yes," you answered decisively. "On my left wrist." Your right hand had your words on it. "It's a butterfly." Maybe if you had a tattoo your soulmate would see it, would find you.

You closed your eyes and braced for what came next.

You weren't sure about this blind date thing, but why not. You trusted your friend that she set you up with a nice guy, at least.

You set up to meet in a park, and from there walk to a nearby restaurant. Right when the guy showed up, there was a butterfly next to you.

"What’s that?" you asked quickly, pointing towards it.

Your date turned his head to look, but by the time he did the butterfly was already flying away. "I don't know, it was probably a bug or something."

You stifled your groan of disappointment. At least you'd get a dinner out of this.

You and Steve were staring at each other in amazement. Finally, you were the one to speak up. "You're Steve Rogers," you said, frowning in disbelief.

"And you're my… soulmate," he returned the same disbelieving look.

You introduced yourself quickly, smiling at him timidly when you finished.

"So, you wanna get ice cream or something?" Steve asked, unsure of what exactly to do. But apparently he said exactly the right thing, because your face lit up.

"Right now though? You're in the middle of your painting and I wouldn't wanna –"

"It doesn't matter," Steve said quickly and stashed the canvas and paints underneath a bench nearby. "No one passes here anyways," he shrugged. "Until today," he smiled and you giggled.

You made your way to an ice cream shop across the street from the park, walking side by side.

"So, what is the great Captain America doing drawing owl-looking butterflies in a local park?" you asked, smiling.

"I was just looking to clear my head a little," Steve said dismissively. "To be honest, the fact that you didn't find me drawing an actual owl is very ironic, looking back," Steve chuckled. "I spent pretty much my entire life drawing owls, attending painting classes, anything I could to find you," his gaze met yours and he smiled softly. "And I find you in a random park while drawing a butterfly."

"Don't underestimate nature's camouflage," you chuckled. "And hey, you think that's ironic? Butterflies are so scarce I got this," you rolled up your left sleeve a little, revealing your butterfly tattoo.

Steve's eyes widened. "It's beautiful," he automatically reached out to trace the lines on your arm, then withdraws his arm when he understands what he's doing. "It's not as beautiful as you," he says with a smile on his face.

You avert your eyes to the ground in front of you. "Thank you," you bashfully say.

You and Steve got your ice cream, and you exchanged plenty of stories of your adventures in search of each other, most of which were devastating when they happened but when you look back at them now, they were actually pretty funny.

"I hope I can see you again," Steve said when it was getting a little late.

He looked so hopeful, but the question in itself made you want to laugh at the obviousness of the answer. Instead, you rose onto your tiptoes, and planted your lips on his soft ones in a sweet kiss.

Once you parted you took a napkin and wrote down your number. "I sure hope to see you soon," you smiled.

"I'll call you, butterfly," Steve grinned and you beamed at the nickname.

And that night you both went home with huge smiles smeared across your faces. Finally, your quest to find your soulmate was at an end, and you could start a new journey, together.

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000

if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#lulu's 10k follower challenge #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #soulmate au

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novelconcepts · 4 years ago

Note

omg can you do a print of damie in canon just interacting with flora bc i would love that

She’s lost Flora.

There is, Dani thinks with the forced calm of one already beginning to spiral, little cause to panic. The house is big, but it’s not that big--and Flora is a good kid. She’s not exactly prone to just wandering off. She certainly wouldn’t, say, vanish from sight and reappear somewhere unexpected, suddenly acting like she didn’t entirely remember the time in between.

That doesn’t sound like Flora at all.

She isn’t running, per se, from room to room. Running would suggest there is a problem to be handled, and if she starts thinking along those lines--if she starts obsessing about Flora’s distinctly off-putting way of gazing over her shoulder, of saying things just a little too odd to be hand-waved away, of looking at Dani as though she can see straight through her to the unease thrumming under the surface--well. That way lies nothing useful. Nothing at all.

“Have you seen Flora?” The kitchen had seemed a good bet. Here, after all, is Owen, puttering away over the ingredients for the evening’s meal, his mood somber as he uses the manor to avoid reflecting on his mother’s upcoming funeral. Here is Hannah, dutifully rearranging the china, pretending not to steal glances at Owen’s lanky frame every few seconds. That spot at the table is made for Flora, little legs hanging off the chair, brimming with questions--

But Flora isn’t there, and Owen is shaking his head.

“Not since lunch. Lost her, have you?”

No, she almost snaps. A count of three, a long-held breath; she smiles tightly, reminding herself that this is not Owen’s fault, nor Owen’s job. The children will be your responsibility alone, after all.

“She’s quick,” she says instead. Hannah purses her lips.

“Perhaps upstairs with Miles?”

She isn’t. Miles, bent over a book with a solemn expression, blinks up at her as though she’s dragged him by the shirt collar out of the actual wardrobe to Narnia.

“She asked me to color--what time is it?”

“Two,” Dani says, sparing the briefest glance for her watch. He shrugs.

“An hour ago, I think? I told her to ask Hannah.” A flash of concern crosses his face, a too-adult creasing of brow. “Was that wrong? I just wanted to finish my book--”

“It’s fine,” Dani assures him, ruffling his hair. Too-adult, his expression may be, but this is the most kid she’s seen Miles in days. The last thing she wants is to dissuade him from reading, or from the loose sprawl of his posture.

An hour, though. In the days since coming to Bly, Dani can’t remember twenty minutes passing without Flora turning up underfoot.

Outside, she thinks with another swell of barely-restrained panic. She’s outside. By the lake, probably, where Flora can so often be found keeping company with dolls and talismans and snatches of ethereal song.

It isn’t exactly a reassuring thought, particularly with summer rain sluicing down the windows, scattering over the roof like pellets. A storm, it isn’t, but an eight-year-old girl has no business wandering in weather like this.

You'd have loved it, at her age, Dani reminds herself. There’s nothing at all wrong with a little girl puddle-jumping for the sheer joy of it. Flora probably got bored, cooped up with a bunch of busy adults and her brother uninterested in playing games. She’s fine. She’s almost certainly fine.

An umbrella is waiting beside the door, still damp from Owen’s trip in before breakfast. Dani takes a breath, pops it open, steels herself for the brisk wind.

The grounds are gray, the puddles turning the grass to a squelchy mess beneath her shoes. She keeps her head up, her eyes carefully turned away from the puddles which sit like recklessly-dropped mirrors at every turn; if she so much as glances down and spots a flash of glasses, she’s not sure she’ll be able to keep her composure.

Flora is not by the lake, as it turns out. Nor the statue gardens. Nor the rose bushes. Flora is nowhere, she’s starting to think, and her mind is finally turning toward the worst--toward the depth of that lake, how easily a small girl might slip off the embankment and tumble headlong into its hungry waves without notice--when she remembers the greenhouse.

Jamie will help. The thought rises without warning, a solid patch of sunlight at the center of the storm. Jamie will help--because Jamie knows every corner of these grounds as well as her own hands. Jamie, who maybe doesn’t know Dani all that well, but didn’t seem to mind offering gentle reassurance, exchanging unexpectedly deep conversation on the couch...or Dani taking her hand in the dark. Jamie, who had said, Who the hell knew? Jamie, who had worn an expression a little like awe.

They haven’t had time to talk about it since, but even so. Even so, for Flora, Jamie is sure to--

She hesitates at the door, fist raised to knock. It feels foolish, rapping on the entry to a greenhouse like it’s Jamie’s own bedroom--but this is, she reasons, as close to Jamie’s home as she’s ever likely to get.

“Jamie, are you...”

“Here,” her voice comes from somewhere just out of sight. Dani takes a cautious step in out of the rain, jostling the umbrella and pulling it hastily shut. Best not to invite bad luck--she’s certainly already had her share.

“I’m looking for Flora,” she calls, feeling a bit silly. There’s so much going on in this room--plants and tables, pots and a variety of outdoor furniture draped with old blankets. Normally, Jamie is easy to spot amid the riot of greens and pinks, her hands busy coaxing seedlings to life. Today, Dani feels as though she’s tripped and fallen into a game of hide and seek.

“Don’t have to look far,” Jamie’s voice comes again--from behind the sofa, Dani thinks. “C’mere.”

“Miss Clayton!” Flora pipes up, and Dani feels the tension leave her body in a violent rush. Her hand grips the nearest table for support, her eyes closing in relief. “Come color with us”

“Come--sorry?” She can’t have heard right. Jamie? Jamie the gardener, putting aside work and temper to waste an afternoon on crayons?

Yes--yes, that appears to be exactly what Jamie is doing. Sprawled on her stomach, still dressed in her coveralls, she’s got a blue crayon in hand and a green one tucked behind her ear. She glances up as Dani steps nearer, a smile lighting her face.

“Kid came stumbling in out of the rain an hour ago. Expect she didn’t think to warn you in advance?”

“Sorry.” Flora offers a sheepish smile, sitting up quickly. “Are you very cross?”

“No, of course not.” Just going to need a minute to purge the image of finding you facedown in the goddamned lake, is all. “Next time, though, you’ll have to tell me you’re leaving the house alone. I need to know where you are at all times, Flora.”

She expects Jamie to scoff at this--to say, Ah, she was with me, she’s fine. Instead, Jamie stretches over to land a sharp flick on Flora’s upper arm.

“Rude to make Poppins worry. Look, she’s gone all pink.” She looks up at Dani, grinning. “Not a bad look, if we’re in the market for honesty.”

Dani suspects pink is the lightest shade she can manage, with Jamie gazing at her that way. It’s too easy, all of a sudden, to remember an unexpectedly soft hand under her own fingers, Jamie turning reflexively at the wrist to hold her back.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Flora says, a phrase Dani is starting to think is more Flora than even perfectly splendid. “Here--I was just about to do one of you!”

Jamie gestures with the blue crayon, a silent suggestion for Dani to sit beside her. “Might as well. Rain doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon.” She lowers her voice, eyes fixed on Flora’s determined rummage through the crayon box. “Sorry about that, Poppins. Know she’s been unpredictable lately, didn’t like the idea of her stumping around in the cold. If I’d known you were worried--”

“It’s all right.” In truth, she’s glad Flora made her way out here. Growing more pleased by the moment with this development, really, as Jamie slides a blank sheet of paper in front of her and presses a purple crayon into her hand.

“Join us. We’re doing portraiture.”

“I can see that,” Dani laughs. Jamie’s handiwork speaks of a distinct lack of care for detail--each sketch on her page is, at best, a stick figure with a single defining feature. “How does Owen hold up his head, carrying a mustache the size of his torso?”

“With minimal decorum,” Jamie says, grinning. “And she’s right, it’s your turn.”

Dani suspects she’s going less pink, more a volatile shade of maroon, with both parties squinting at her face, their papers, her face again. Flora is doing her very best work, taking several minutes just to select the closest shades of blue, yellow, pink. Jamie makes an enormous production of holding up a crayon, closing one eye, gauging proportions--and then, cheerfully, scrawling a figure identical to the other four already on the page.

“I’m taller than Hannah?” Dani asks, unable to resist a giggle. Jamie frowns.

“Ah, you’re...standin’ on a crate.” She adds a box beneath Dani’s non-existent feet with a flourish, nodding. “There. It’s symbolic.”

“Of what?”

“I’ve ranked you all on how much I like you. Takin’ into account, of course, certain accusations pointed my way regarding mud and shiny floorboards.” Jamie winks. Dani finds herself gripping her crayon almost hard enough to hurt.

“You’re not drawing, Miss Clayton!” Flora observes. Dani glances away from Jamie’s smile--a difficult act only a few days ago, nearly impossible now--and clears her throat.

“Well. Maybe just until the rain stops.”

There are, she thinks as a comfortable quiet settles over the greenhouse, infinitely worse ways to spend her afternoon.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #flora wingrave #soft prompts #hope this is about what you were looking for #soft it certainly is

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gatheringfiki · 3 years ago

Text

The following ficlet was written by @i-am-still-bb based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Gen.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Cafe d’Or

---

Kili is not sure how he has never seen it the first time he walks past it. He is late for class, so late that he should probably just give up and go back home, but he still pauses to peek through the steaming windows.

The bright colors catch his attention. It is so different from the muted greys, whites, and pale woods of the chain coffee shops that he normally frequents. And before he knows it he has been drawn inside and he is ordering a blonde with an unconscionable amount of cream.

And then he is back on his way to class with the warm cup of coffee in hands, its luxurious smell making him forget how late he is.

The coffee collar is pink and gold. Kili grins and doodles on it before tossing it in his backpack to join the other detritus that accumulates during the semester.

And then he goes back.

And this time he brings his homework and he ends up sketching the patrons and the soft furnishings. He gets to know the baristas by name. They start to prepare his order when he walks through the door.

More sketches than Kili would like to admit are of the owner—Fili—with golden hair who moves through the space fluffing pillows, refilling coffees, and chatting with customers.

Kili rarely speaks to him. Kili usually keeps his headphones on to help him focus and to discourage idle chit chat. But he does turn his music and the noise cancelling function off whenever the owner is near. Just in case.

He just has an interesting face, he says when Tauriel catches a glimpse of Kili’s sketchbook on an April afternoon.

Uh huh. Bet he’s more interesting naked.

Kili flicks droplets of paint water in her direction.

Hey! She jumps to project the acrylic project she has been working on for days. She sits back and squints. Actually… She dips her fingers in the water and flicks the droplets across the canvas. Interesting. But not as interesting as your Manther.

Kili chokes on his coffee. What?

Manther. It’s like a Cougar, but—

Kili waves his hands. No. No. No.

Tauriel laughs.

He can’t be much past thirty if he is even that old, so I don’t think that assessment is fair.

Still a cradle robber, Tauriel says, distracted by her work.

Kili changes the subject. I thought I was here for you to help me with my thesis ideas?

I suppose. But your Manther is so much more interesting��

Kili groans and slouches deeper into the couch that has seen better years, probably a at least a decade ago.

Winter appeared quite suddenly one late November day.

“If I have to spend another minute in this building I’m going to go insane,” Tauriel complains.

“Do you want to work in the Hollow?” Kili asks looking up from his notebook where he is playing with some ideas in charcoal and ink.

Tauriel shakes her head. “Too cold and windy.”

“I could do with a coffee,” Kili stretches. “D’Or?”

Tauriel’s eyebrows jump. “I’ll finally get to see him.”

Kili quickly backpedals “Or we can just go to Post. It’s closer.

“Nope. The horse already left the gate,” Tauriel laughs, grabbing her coat. “Scoot your boot.

“How have I never been here?” Tauriel asks as she sinks into an unapologetically pink chair. “It’s so cute.”

Kili shrugs. “I only came in last spring, but I must have walked past it nearly every day.”

Tauriel sips her tea and hums in response. She sets her drink down and pulls out her sketchbook. Her thesis project is pop art mixed with traditional mediums and settings. A coffee cup in oil paint on the same scale as a renaissance altarpiece, for example. Kili’s work is less serious. He loves light and how it can make everything seem magical even if just for a moment.

Today it is the golden mistletoe with white berries above the bar that catches his eye. It sparkles in the bright light, daylight reflecting off of freshly fallen snow, the fills the space. The Christmas decorations all skew to the gold and white so as to not clash with the pinks and blues.

In the margins he starts sketching golden hair in the light.

“So are your parents coming to the end of semester show?”

Kili starts. “What?”

Tauriel repeats herself.

Kili shakes his head. “No. They’re too busy.”

“But it’s your penultimate show.”

Kili shrugs. “I’ll send them pictures like always.”

If Kili had been giving Tauriel his full attention he would have seen the mischievous expression on her face. But he wasn’t, so he didn’t.

“Anyone special that you’re inviting to the opening then?”

“What? No. You know that.”

“I just thought since it’s an art show you might have found someone to ask.”

Kili looks up, furrowing his eyebrows. He is about to ask Tauriel why she is being weird when he sees Fili just at her shoulder refilling her tea.

“An art show?” Fili asks politely.

“Oh! Yes!” Tauriel says. “We’re seniors and it’s our last show before our thesis show in the spring. And we’ve both been working so hard, but Kili has been especially diligent and he’s got no one coming to the opening for him.”

Kili nudges her foot and widens his eyes at her, trying to tell her to Cut It Out without words.

“That’s not cool,” Fili says.

“It’s fine,” Kili grumbles. And sinks down with his sketchbook. He knows what Tauriel is trying to do, but he has no idea what he is supposed to say, what she expects him to say.

“I bet you’re pretty good after almost 4 years.”

“He’s great!” Tauriel pipes in. “Would you like to come?”

Kili can feel Fili’s eyes on him.

“I would like to. If it is okay with Kili.”

Kili flushes. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

“It’s a date then.”

“So that’s settled,” Tauriel announces with a grin.

“Your coffee and tea are just wonderful.”

“Thank you, but I’m not the one who picks our blends. That would be our coffee sommelier Legolas.”

This time Kili sees the sly look on Tauriel’s face, but he does not move fast enough to interrupt her. “I bet you make the best coffee at your house.”

Fili laughs.

Kili tries to slouch further into his seat to disappear, but he cannot look away from Fili. Their eyes meet and Fili responds.

“I do. It comes with a homemade bagel. And it is served in bed.” He winks.

Kili’s cheeks get even pinkies if that is even possible.

#submission #Gathering 12 Days 2021 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years ago

Text

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 17 - With Him

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, how will it go in the end?, 4.8k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

One finger tapped on the strap of his fanny pack as Alex listened for the right bus stop to be called. If all those months since he’d seen Willie had been long, this past week had been longer. Especially since the news about Caleb had hit hard and every minute in the studio now felt like the band was precariously teetering on the edge of a cliff. He was going to try not to let any of that get in his way today, though. He’d made it to Saturday and Willie was only a few streets away, and he didn’t care what happened for the rest of the day - it was going to be good.

Finally he heard the next stop announced for where he needed to get off and he pulled the cord that told the driver to make a stop. Stepping onto the sidewalk, his heart bounced around in its chamber like the Tazmanian devil from Looney Tunes. He was glad that Willie lived in the basement of the apartment building he occupied because it would’ve been the worst if Alex forgot which room he was in and spent hours frantically knocking doors.

It was hard to tell if he was moving quickly or if his mind was just racing, but in either case, he eventually found himself at the door. For a second, he simply took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, trying to get a visual of Willie immediately pouncing on him the moment the door opened out of his head. It wouldn’t exactly be unwelcome, but Alex was realizing how desperate he was to be with him and was amazed at how it affected his imagination.

Lifting a hand, he made sure he knocked loudly. Soon after, the door opened, and Alex was greeted with shining brown eyes, silky, gorgeous brown hair styled into two braids, and a smile he could make home in. Willie.

“Hey, come on in!” Willie was saying, standing to the side and gesturing for him to enter. Crossing the threshold, Alex gazed at the humble space, taking in the details with heightened interest. “This is mi casa!” He began showing Alex around. “We’ve got the main living space, very cozy. The kitchen to your left, but no dining room so it’s all criss-cross applesauce on the floor - makes it extra chill. Bathroom through the back. The sink and shower handles will sometimes shock you, so don’t mind all the electrical tape.”

It was surprisingly accommodating for a dingy basement, and Willie had already made little additions that spoke volumes about him without words. A king size mattress sat in the corner of the ‘main living space’ on the floor with a small bookshelf beside it. The bookshelf only had a handful of cassette tapes and a Walkman lying on top, with a few sketchbooks on the middle shelf. Next to that, the dresser had a small collection of vintage soda bottles and a camera sitting on its surface. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers covered the ceiling above the bed. Even a couple cat toys could be spotted on the floor. Immediately, Alex approached the area where Willie’s desk sat surrounded by sketches hung on the wall.

“So these are your drawings?” he asked, although the answer was obvious. They were so good. Willie followed him over, the squinty smile still in his eyes.

“Yeah. Some are new. Most of them are attempts to recover what Caleb tore up.”

Alex looked at Willie apologetically, even though the loss of Willie’s previous work wasn’t his fault. Without warning, a pressure on his leg and the sound of loud purring announced Sheldon’s presence. The cat looked up at him and blinked slowly, already begging for attention. Heart melting, Alex bent down to pet him.

“Hey, Sheldon,” he said. “I forgot how cute you were!” He smiled as Sheldon rubbed his head against his hand with more affection that he’d likely seen from any other creature on the planet. Well...maybe there was one other that matched it. Alex had heard about how pets could take on the temperament of their owners, and suspected this was a clear example. “He’s gotten so big since I last saw him.”

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be almost two years old, if Escobar guessed his age right.”

Standing again as Sheldon pattered off, Alex returned his attention to the wall of art, looking at the pieces more closely.

“So which one is your dad?” he mused.

Willie untacked one of them and held it out for Alex to examine. “This one.”

Holding the edges carefully, Alex gazed in amazement at the detail Willie had caught. The edges were certainly less defined, but the scene inside the truck was so easy to visualize that Alex could almost feel the leather of the seats and the windchill from the window. He wasn’t sure what began burning in his chest as he peered down at the image, but it was profound and complex.

“I’ve thought about seeing if I could find him, but I think with my memory it’s kind of impossible,” Willie told him.

“He looks so happy here. I don’t get why you would end up as a foster kid.”

“Yeah, I wondered that too. Maybe he didn’t have a choice?”

Alex looked at Willie’s face, and he could tell half of him was lost in a world of what-ifs and other questions. He was always trying to seem so easy-going, and to an extent he truly was, but he couldn’t hide the constant sense of upheaval that rested on his shoulders. At least, Alex was picking up on it more, now that he knew the things he did. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine anyone not fighting their hardest to keep Willie.

Suddenly his gaze was drawn to the unfinished work on the desk, and recognized it as a portrait of himself.

“Wow.” The word fell out of his mouth.

“Oh,” Willie started with a hint of shyness. “Obviously that one isn’t done, so…” He reached to put it away.

“You got that far off of memory, though,” Alex said. “I’m impressed. And you make me look good.” He offered an encouraging smile. “Maybe some time today I could be a model for you?”

Willie cocked his eyebrow, surprise and playfulness making an adorable combination on his face. It made Alex’s smile grow wider.

“Well, we’ve got a whole day ahead,” Willie said. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay,” Alex said, leaning onto his back foot casually, one side of his lip curling with intrigue. “Well, I wanna see where you go around here. You seem to have a knack for finding the best spots. We can play it by ear.”

“What’s that one song with the one phrase?” Willie asked. “‘Any way the wind blows?’” He sang shyly, clearly playing down what Alex could tell was a nice voice.

“Bohemian Rhapsody,” Alex smiled. Willie’s job at the record store was at least giving him a good taste in music. “Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about the classics once you hang out with me enough.”

An emotion flashed in Willie’s eyes and after a moment Alex realized what those words were actually saying. He held his gaze, hoping he could communicate his intentions clearly, unlike the last time they’d seen each other. Willie swallowed, and his expression remained excited as he loaded his backpack and led them out the door, board in hand. Alex followed him, deciding not to question which direction they were going.

First, they made a stop to buy a bunch of apples. In classic Willie fashion, he went to a bodega, and this time he communicated with the cashier in rough Spanish. Alex knew he was showing off, and smirked at the notion that Willie enjoyed impressing him.

“So what do we need these for?” Alex wondered as they left the bodega. “Besides a ton of apples for lunch.”

Willie’s secretive smile made Alex raise an eyebrow.

“It’s a surprise.”

A little while later, they stood before the most unlikely place in all of Los Angeles: a horse barn. Staring at the building as if it loomed fifty feet above him, hands in his pockets, Alex gulped and a lump of dread landed in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh no,” he muttered apprehensively.

“Oh yeah,” Willie said, turning to him with a thrilled grin on his face.

Alex wasn��t exactly afraid of horses...he just had no idea what to do around them and therefore was not sure what to expect from them. Also, he would’ve worn different pants if he’d known this was on the agenda.

“I promise, they’ve got some really chill horses,” Willie tried to ease his nerves. “I’ve gone on this trail enough times. Don’t worry, you’ll know everything about riding once you hang out with me enough.” He winked as he threw back Alex’s line with a sly smile.

Unable to argue, Alex shook his head and used the hand in his pocket to gesture forward, signaling to Willie he was up to the challenge. He watched him practically skip inside and he had to jog to keep up after him. They signed in and then were led to two stalls.

Willie immediately gravitated toward a tall golden-colored mustang stallion with a dark mane, apparently both already familiar and happy to see each other. Alex watched him gently greet and essentially coo at it while comfortably stroking its nose and then feeding it an apple. He longed to have that sort of talent with other creatures, and simultaneously realized that he yearned to receive that same tenderness.

Once the horses were tacked up and one of the instructors had given Alex some brief pointers on how to ride, he found himself following Willie on a trail while mounted on a painted mare. The only philosophy he could adopt out here was to be gentle and not get lost.

“Not so bad, your majesty,” Willie called over to him.

An extremely nervous laugh elicited from Alex’s throat involuntarily, only making Willie laugh in return. Alex rode a little closer so they were nearly side by side on the trail.

“I’ve been here once,” he said. “I think I was about twelve? My mom thought that it would make me change my mind about taking ballet classes. We rode for maybe fifteen minutes before I got so nervous we had to turn back around and go home. Never made it through the full trail.”

“Man, that sucks,” Willie commented. “I didn’t know you did ballet.”

“Yeah, that and a few other types of dance. I was forced to quit a little couple years ago. That’s about when we got serious as a band, so I just found something else to bother my parents with.”

He could see the gears click into place as Willie came to a few conclusions about his parents and gave an emphatic nod.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn how to dance. That was the one thing Caleb had promised to teach me. He’s the worst, but he definitely knows how to dance.”

Suddenly, Alex remembered watching Caleb’s movements when he’d served him and the boys at the diner. Of course he could dance; everything had been fluid and smooth. All he could say to that thought was “huh,” at first. Then after a few moments: “I’ll have to teach you one of these days then.”

Willie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, happy at the prospect.

“Yeah, okay! Add that to our to-do list.”

Alex chuckled. They had a to-do list now. He bit his lip as he continued following Willie along the trail. It was a gorgeous day and in this area the sky was so clear compared to further inside the city. Greatly contrasting his experience from years ago, Alex felt himself become much more at ease and felt confident enough to take greater control of his horse. Willie pulled out his camera and snapped a few scenic photos every once in a while.

Eventually, they stopped at an outlook and Alex had to take in an awed breath. The view was clear for miles all around them. Green hills spanned the landscape in every direction with patches of city speckled in between. Even the ocean line was visible from there. How did Willie know how to find these?

“Hey, Alex!” Willie called, lifting his camera. “Say cheese!”

Turning to face him, Alex flashed a genuine smile as Willie captured him atop his horse against the scenery. He was usually pretty camera shy, but this time he really didn’t mind. Keeping memories like this actually felt important to him, unlike the many times he’d been forced to pose with his family at functions he’d also been made to attend. Those occasions had always felt so insincere - less about enjoying the memory and more about trying to prove their status as the polished, functional family everyone aspired to.

He saw Willie dismount for a moment and stretch his legs. Gripping the reins and looking around in uncertainty, Alex realized he’d gotten on before ensuring he could properly get off. Thankfully, Willie noticed and came up to him, hands raised.

“Okay, so just...carefully lift your foot out of the stirrup and swing your leg over toward me,” he instructed. Sucking in a breath hesitantly, Alex did as he said. “Alright, then...here.” Willie offered a hand for Alex to grab so he could slide off with ease. Landing on the ground, he leaned into Willie to gain his balance, and felt a congratulatory pat on his back. It took more restraint than Alex anticipated to not simply wrap his arms around him and sit like that for an indefinite amount of time. They had all day ahead of them; he didn’t need the sudden fear of losing him to derail things out of nowhere.

“Sorry if I look like a wimp about all this,” he said, letting go of his hand.

“Nah, don’t sweat it,” Willie assured him, shaking his head. “This is...this is new.”

His eyes seemed to take Alex in from head to toe and Alex could’ve sworn the charge in the air between them would buzz if they got closer, spark if they made contact. It was almost like that moment in front of Willie’s door the week before. For a few seconds they remained locked in that trance before Willie took hold of the horse’s reins and handed them to Alex.

“Technically this trail could take hours, but I’m guessing this isn’t all you’re interested in today,” he said. “What do you say we stretch our legs a bit and then ride back?”

Looking from the reins in his hand back to Willie, Alex nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Opening his backpack, Willie handed him an apple and then bit down into one of his own. Taking a bite, it was one of the most refreshing apples Alex ever eaten. They walked the horses a little ways and tried to get good pictures of the different views around them. Alex asked to try his hand with the camera and get a few good shots of Willie. He didn’t consider himself a photographer, but he doubted when the photos got developed that they would turn out badly. The way Willie smiled made him seem like he was made of sunlight from the inside out.

As they rode back to the barn, Alex kept replaying those moments where he’d refrained from making a move over in his head. This had been strike two. If he continued on like this, he was going to hate himself for the rest of eternity, he was pretty sure. Was it some weird kind of side effect of the whole ‘Willie come back to life’ thing? Watching him affectionately say goodbye to his horse once they were ready to leave, Alex looked at his own horse and raised a tentative hand up to her nose.

The mare gazed back, patience gleaming in her eyes. He finally set his hand down on her nose and gently rubbed it up and down, smiling a little to himself. This wasn’t so bad. He could do this - it was just a matter of getting through all the barriers he made for himself in his head. Moving his hands from the horse’s nose, he stroked along her neck, and caught Willie smiling at him from the corner of his eye.

“You wanna try feeding her an apple?” he asked.

Thinking for a few seconds, Alex nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling one out of his backpack, Willie placed it in Alex’s palm.

“Alright, so hold it out in front of you like this…” He positioned Alex to offer the apple. “And keep your palm flat.”

Alex uncurled his fingers and after sniffing at it a little the mare ate it out of his hand. He could ignore the sensation of her mouth touching him because Willie still had his arm around his shoulder to hold him steady. They looked at each other, and Alex wished he could get a proper shot at Willie’s face at that angle with the camera.

“Looks like you’re gonna get the hang of this,” Willie commended.

Alex looked back up at the horse, a little bit of pride swelling in his chest. “Yeah, I think I will.”

Later, they went to the beach at Alex’s suggestion. He was perched on the surface of a picnic table, posed as if he were looking off into the distance. Willie sketched with great concentration, having taken his hair out of his braids so he could run his hand through it. The late afternoon sun brought out all the best color contrasts in their surroundings - one of the things Alex loved about coming to the beach at this time of day.

“So I have a question,” Alex started, trying not to move too much. His tendency to talk with his hands kept getting him in trouble.

“Shoot,” Willie prompted him, not looking up.

“Did Caleb let you go to school or anything? Or did he provide any sort of education at all?”

Squinting, Willie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“So, after the accident, he told me that I’d had to be taken out of school,” he began, continuing to sketch. “Which makes sense, I guess, if I forgot everything. I remember some basic things, like math wasn’t hard to pick up again. Once I was recovered enough to go places, he just let me go to the public library and find whatever I wanted to read. But he always insisted on not having reminders of who I was before and said it was supposed to be helping me ‘become my own person’. He got rid of things like my school yearbooks and old journals and things. I didn’t think anything of it at first because he’d just called it useless clutter and I believed him. As soon as he decided I was fit enough to work in the diner and help out at the hotel, he told me to forget about school. Anything else I picked up was from watching TV, or listening to the radio, or something. Sometimes I’ll just remember I know something after hearing about it and it’s like it was just always there.”

Listening intently, Alex marveled at the whole thing. The fact that Caleb was not only negligent, but actively discouraging Willie from knowing anything, made him wish he could take down the man’s whole career. However, he figured Willie probably had a lot of his intelligence still untapped. If he’d been able to get away from Caleb and somehow create a life for himself in the span of a few months, Alex wondered what else he was capable of.

“What’s something you remember?” he wondered.

“I guess I used to be really obsessed with space. Just planets and stars and all that. I can spout off facts about Jupiter’s moons and stuff like that. Did you know that the moon Europa has a saltwater ocean under a layer of ice?”

Alex shook his head. “No, I didn’t. That sounds really cool though.” He thought of the stickers on Willie’s ceiling and smirked a little before reassuming his pose.

“I sort of wish I could remember being in school,” Willie was saying. “Everyone else seems to just share all of those memories and understand each other that way.”

Alex saw his brow furrow, and could tell he felt left out. He pondered on his own experience growing up in public school. There was almost no other way he would’ve met Luke, Bobby and Reggie if they hadn’t all attended the same schools. While he could easily critique and complain about it to no end, he knew it was a privilege.

“School is definitely hard,” he told Willie. “But I did get my friends out of it, and I guess that makes up for it. If it’s any consolation, you could just complain about Caleb like he was your horrible English teacher who thought he knew more about the subject of your essay, but you cited all of your sources and they proved him completely wrong.”

Willie laughed. “Why? Did that happen to you?”

Alex bobbed his head from side to side and feigned looking thoughtful . “Maybe.”

“I kind of like reducing him to a loser English teacher. He just sounds petty and sad.”

“That’s high school,” Alex confirmed.

Leaning back from his work for a minute to take it all in, Willie brushed a hand through his hair.

“Here, you wanna take a look at it?” he said. Alex hopped off the table and went to stand over Willie’s shoulder at the drawing and was immediately rendered speechless. The detail was impeccable, but Alex was more impressed by the feeling he got looking at it. Willie had managed to make him appear...handsome, and pensive, and fascinating, like anyone else could look at him and create a million unique ideas of who he was. However, it wasn’t anyone else looking at him, it was Willie, and what he’d captured felt like the truth. Alex couldn’t really explain what that meant, only that it was an honest representation.

“Okay, I know I said the one back at your place made me look good, but this is...this is unreal.”

He could see Willie trying to be modest, but the corners of his lips couldn’t stay down. Funny enough, he appeared even more unable to find words, and simply beamed as he looked back and forth between his sketch and Alex’s face.

A sudden impulse came over Alex, and he kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on top of Willie’s skateboard and backpack. Willie sat looking flustered for a moment.

“Wanna swim?” Alex nodded toward the waves, bidding Willie to follow. He didn’t wait for him to catch up as he immediately began running into the waves up to his knees. Alex knew his pants would be even more ruined the second he hit the salty water, but he didn’t care. Now the sun was beginning to set and the chill of the waves was refreshing, and he couldn’t express what he felt just then in any other way.

Willie tackled him from behind, climbing onto his back and nearly knocking him over into the shallow tide. Clambering back to his feet, Alex splashed water at him. They began a playful water fight back and forth, until they were both drenched. Eventually, Alex tried to catch hold of both Willie’s hands in an attempt to prevent being splashed anymore. He had the advantage of longer arms, but before he could get a tight hold of the second arm Willie’s leg swept under his and they both fell just as a large wave washed over them.

As the water pulled back, they sat in the sand in a tangle, laughing. All Alex could think of was how pretty Willie was in this light, hair swept back off his face with tendrils resting over his shoulders, sun gleaming in his eyes and constantly shining from the inside out. The laughter died between them and he caught a look in Willie’s eye that made him wonder if he appeared to him to be just as perfect in that moment.

This time his mind and body worked in sync as he lifted a hand and gently pulled Willie into a short, tender kiss. All the self-flagellation from earlier was washed away in one pure moment, and exhilaration moved into its place. It felt soft and sweet, just the way he expected it should. Just as quickly as he’d let go, Willie went in for another one, a little longer and a little deeper. One hand remained caressing his cheek while the other wrapped around his upper back. Alex couldn’t help smiling into another kiss; he was too happy to care about anything else. Hardly a week ago, this had been impossible.

As they let go, their hands came together and they looked into each other's eyes, both releasing a relieved chuckle. Willie looked at the rest of the beach behind them and Alex’s eyes followed, but at this hour there were too few people around and no one paying attention to them. Turning back to Alex, Willie sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Wow,” was all he said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, I’d definitely do that again,” Alex smirked, until the joy in his chest converted it into a full grin.

A wave washed over them again and they both stood, shaking out their hair and trying to wipe off whatever sand they could. Heading back up the beach, Willie grabbed Alex’s hand so they could make their way up together. The sun was nearly set but Alex was sure it had just gone into his chest, bursting with excitement. Once they reached the picnic table, they gathered their things and Willie offered to carry Alex’s shirt inside his backpack on the way home. Thank goodness there were a few patches of grass so Alex could try to get a little more sand off his feet before putting his shoes back on.

“So how long have you been sitting on that?” Willie teased as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and they left the beach.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, knowing he was being called out.

“No, really!” Willie bumped his side jokingly. “I want to know!”

Tilting his head back to try to remember, it didn’t take Alex long to give him the answer.

“Since day one,” he told him.

Surprise swept over Willie’s face as he looked at Alex.

“Seriously?” he asked.

Alex nodded.

“Me too.”

It was Alex’s turn to look surprised. Without saying another word, he took Willie’s hand in his and then kissed it before continuing back toward his place. The whole way they talked about all the different things they needed to do together in the future. Riding on more horse trails, dancing lessons, skating lessons, art modeling sessions, going to band practices and gigs, visiting the record store while Willie wasn’t working, etc. They both agreed that the entire day technically counted as a date, and all further plans would as well. Alex was reminded once again that he didn’t have a notebook to write things down in, and vowed to have one for the next time he saw Willie. Once they reached Willie’s door, they had already put their shirts back on and it was completely dark outside.

“Are you free any time next week?” Willie asked, still holding onto Alex’s hand.

“I wish I could say yes, but probably not. And as much as I’d love to give you my number, it’s really not the best idea.”

“Well, I could give you mine,” Willie said.

Alex shot him a confused look. Holding up a finger, Willie dug into his backpack until he found his sketchbook and tore off the corner of a page, quickly scribbling one down and handing it to Alex.

“It’s actually the one for work,” he said. “But if it’s what we can do for now, I’ll do it. Kyle won’t care.”

Looking at it for a minute and then stashing it in his now-dry pocket, Alex took hold of Willie’s chin and went to kiss him again. It was really hard to stop, but they soon broke apart.

“I gotta go,” Alex murmured.

Willie only nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go and slipping his own into his pocket.

“I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

Once again heading up the short set of stairs to the sidewalk, Alex rubbed his lips together, relishing in the taste of what he and Willie had just done. He couldn’t imagine anything sweeter.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #sunset curve #alive au #willex #willie #alex mercer #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #viva las vegas #with him #fiddlepickdouglas

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roggenmuhme · 5 years ago

Text

Exam Season

The Diamonds x Reader Summary: As the semester draws to an end, finals are approaching and you struggle to balance studying and your relationship with the Diamonds. Wordcount: 4.3k More than open to criticism; this is my first time writing in years and I’m ESL, so I’ll take everything I can get.Feel free to chat me up on discord and on here … I'm happy to exchange sketches and wips, I got plenty! imbutahumblefarmer#5583 "You guys, I'm fine!"

It was your third time saying this exact same sentence while White Diamond strained herself to take up the whole screen in front of you.

Coupled with an awkward laugh, everyone would have figured out that you were lying by now. Everyone except for the Diamonds, of course.

They were a strange trio; completely unrecognizable from when you first had met them. In the place of the terrifying space dictators who had tried to squish you like a bug at Garnet's wedding were now three socially inept women with too much free time and nothing to do.

And they were endearing in their own way. Just like now.

An exasperated sigh could be heard through the connection, the screen whisked away by large, yellow hands. (White's stunned gasp was pointedly ignored, however.)

Yellow Diamond's face appeared in full on your little gemtech tablet, a curious Blue peeking over her shoulder. Her features were rough as always, one could be quick to assume that she was bored, but you knew better.

By the way her eyes narrowed, she didn't buy your shtick at all. A cool, calculated gaze met yours and you prepared yourself for the scolding that was about to come.

"... If you say so", her answer sounded oddly clipped, even for her.

Letting out a deep breath, you tried your best to smile at her and you could feel how fake it looked. Yellow just blinked at you, a hand leisurely supporting her cheek.

"Haha, yeah", you said in another attempt to calm them. They barely understood what university was, and if they caught wind of you being miserable, they would come and flatten your faculty. Or something. You didn’t want to deal with that. “It’s all over in two weeks, then I can come over… if I pass, that is”, you mumbled the last part under your breath, mentally freaking out a little. Only two weeks left … it felt like forever and nothing at all at the same time. “Two weeks?! That’s so long!”, White’s whine sounded off-screen, prompting Yellow and Blue to give her curt look, Yellow’s face contorting for a split second. “Are you serious?”, you had to suppress the laugh that bubbled in your throat. Whatever they did, they always put you in a better mood, intentionally or not. “You guys are thousands of years old, this should be like a minute for you, theoretically.” Yellow blinked at you again, her full attention shifting back to you. “We are aware. But every moment without you is torture.” This time, you laughed for real. Despite Yellow’s deadpan, she could be the cheesiest one of them at any given time. “Guys…!”

“Oh, but it’s true!”, Blue’s soft brogue interrupted your fussing. Yellow turned the device to face her, giving you two a moment. “You know we love you”, she smiled at you. You could feel yourself melting at the sight. “I miss you, I really do. I’ll get Steven to warp me to you immediately after the last exam, I promise.” It was the most you could do and it would already complicate things. But you couldn’t stand to see them like this. This seemed to be enough for Blue at least. She gazed at you in silence for a moment and nodded. With a flurry of colors, your eyes were burned by White’s pouting face again. “If you must, but not a second longer!” You sighed, grinning at her. “Of course.” A gaze at your wrist watch nearly made you recoil in horror. It was way too late already and you still had to do some revisions on unit 23! “Anyways, I really have to sleep now. Y’know, my organic needs and all...” You were a bad liar, but it did the trick on White. She looked like a moping child after their toy had been taken away. She made the most disappointed, dramatic noise while pushing the device from her to give you a look at the others. Blue gave you a little wave, still smiling sweetly. “Okay guys, I’ll call you the day after tomorrow, alright?” They nodded in unison, biding their goodbyes. Before you could switch your screen off, Yellow opened her mouth for one last message. “If anyone is giving you trouble, tell us.” With a hasty bow of your head and one last wave, you pressed the off button, your room now considerably darker again.

Your wrist watch beeped. Back to work.

Nervously tapping your pencil on an old worksheet, you tried to figure out a way how to solve the problem - you didn’t understand it back when you discussed it in class and you still didn’t understand it now. Your wrist watch gave a short beep, your signal to call the Diamonds in fifteen minutes. The break was more than welcome, maybe thinking about something else would give you a fresh eye. Tugging at your hair with a hairbrush, you hummed absentmindedly. You hadn’t really done anything today or yesterday that was worth reporting, but that never stopped the diamond’s from calling you. They simply did the talking themselves. Checking your appearance one last time in the mirror, you gave yourself a satisfied nod. Your eye bags had seen better days, but there was nothing you could do about it right now. Your thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, stark white light coming from your window. Turning your head comically slow to the source, you had a gut feeling who this could be. One of White Diamond’s eyes peaked excitedly into your studio apartment. It widened when you gave a hesitant wave. Your gut was right. “Hello, starlight!”, her voice was loud, too loud for 10 pm on a weekday. If the sudden arrival of three giant aliens didn’t get you in trouble, this would. When you didn’t answer, she brought a nail to the glass, impatiently tapping it. You were lucky it didn’t shatter on impact. “Darling”, she sang. “Come out, we came all the way to see you!” You had to shake yourself out of the trance you were in - you knew how clingy and protective they were, but this was new. Making your way to your window, you could already hear the noise rising in your neighbor’s apartment. Great. You just hoped they wouldn’t terminate your lease for this. When you finally opened the window, White’s massive hand plucked from the ground and plopped you into her other one. Indeed, all three stood in your parking lot, now hunched over to get a better look at you. “Hi guys”, you squealed, straining your neck to meet their eyes. Three faces beamed back at you, their total lack of situational awareness really showing. “Instead of calling you, we decided to visit you instead! A nice surprise, isn’t it?”, proclaimed White proudly as if she had just solved all of mankind’s problems single handedly. Blue and Yellow nodded enthusiastically next to her. You probably should be mad, but how could you? “Look, I really appreciate this”, you sighed. “But we really have to go somewhere else - people are already waking up. And it might get me in trouble.” That got you a collective ‘oh’ out of them. “Where is the ship anyway?”

You didn’t know how they managed it, but they had found an empty space large enough for the leg-less space giant. Apparently, they had walked the rest of the way and without damaging anything at that. You felt a little proud. The mental image still made you chuckle. “Okay guys, why did you come in person?”, you crossed your arms, while they sat around you in White’s head. “I thought we had a deal - I call you every 48 hours, you stay on Homeworld.” Blue and White evaded your eyes at your scolding tone, but Yellow held your gaze steadily.

"It was fairly obvious that you were not well at all despite your insistence otherwise", she offered her hand for you to climb on, and you did. "You have to take care of yourself, you are very fragile."

Now it was your turn to avoid her stare, feeling guilty. She was right, but you just didn't have the time. There was so much material to go through, so much to memorize. What could sleeping two hours less a night do? It was only for a short period of time, anyway.

And even if you struggled with anxiety and exhaustion, you didn't want to burden them. It was bad enough that you were gone for the semester, telling them how you really felt would be overkill.

But now the jig was up. You should have known that Yellow was an expert when it came to observation and you had probably hurt them even more with your lie.

"I'm so sorry", it was like someone had opened the valve and now you were pathetically blubbering. "I just… didn't want to worry you, is all."

Seeing your distress, Blue immediately pulled closer to you, a tentative finger rubbing the crown of your head.

"Little one, you know you can tell us everything. We care for you and want to help you", she cooed at you, shooting you a smile.

"You organics are so weak to stress, apply a little pressure and - poof - you just break", declared White, a finger up in the air to call attention to her great wisdom.

The stroking on your head stopped abruptly, replaced by shaking.

"Don't… say that", Blue voice was trembling, clearly on the verge of crying. As if on cue, you and Yellow scrambled to console her.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine. It's just a little difficult right now", you turned to her, smiling.

"She is an excellent specimen and very durable, Blue", Yellow's tone was a bit more pragmatic, but honest. It was also a nice compliment, coming from her.

"Yes, this isn't the first time I'm dealing with exams", you reached out to pat her finger. "It's going to be okay, even if I don't pass."

"... really?", Blue looked at you with big, questioning eyes. "Please don't lie, you know I couldn't stand to see you - "

A shuddering breath followed. "Stars, I can't even say it."

You were scooped up by her hands and pressed against her soft cheek.

They were all experts in dramatics, but Blue was especially sensitive when it came to your mortality. The first time you had explained your lifespan and the many ways one could die to her in detail, you weren't allowed to leave her for a week. She had known how short human lives were, but this! Unacceptable.

She even made you eat nothing but mush during those seven days, too afraid of this 'choking'.

In the end, you talked her out of it. But it was a big factor when it came to your living situation. They wanted to spend every moment with you, savoring your presence.

You tried to reciprocate the cuddling by embracing her as best as you could. She let out a soft sigh, holding you a little closer. After a minute of silent embracing, she reluctantly put you back in Yellow’s hand. “We’re always there for you, no matter what”, she told you in a gentle tone, the other two nodding in agreement. “If you need me to talk to one of these organics, darling, don’t hesitate to tell me!”, exclaimed White, a smile stretching her cheeks in the most unnatural way. A mental image of her hunched over one of your professors in their office made you a little… uneasy. “Thank you, but I can do that myself”, you laughed nervously. White didn’t look too satisfied with your answer, but seemed to accept it.

“And if it becomes too much, you’re always welcome to move in with us”, added Blue, making you flush. It wasn’t the first time you got that offer, but it was just too sweet. “M-maybe in a couple of years”, you stammered, which earned you a grumble from them. You coughed, feeling a little awkward to change the topic so suddenly. “Ehm, thank you guys - I don’t want to be rude, but I have to get back to studying pretty soon.” “But it’s already dark outside! Isn’t that when humans sleep - oh”, Blue said, suddenly struck by an epiphany. “Oh no, we kept you from sleeping!” You shook your head vehemently. “No, no, we don’t go to sleep the second it gets dark, guys. I think I might have explained this to you before. But I still have some stuff to do.” Of course it was White who interrupted the stunned silence first. “You don’t have a little more time for us? We came all the way...” Yellow joined in, her voice a little louder than anticipated. “Can’t you study here? With us?” “Guys, you can’t just park your ship here - without asking anyone - and keep it in this place for days! I’m gonna get in trouble”, you panicked a little at the thought. The only spot where this gigantic humanoid vessel could be placed was Beach City. Nobody would call the police or worse, the government, over this. “So you have to leave,” this hurt more to say than you’d like to admit. “Or you have to go to Steven, if you want to stay.” All three of them pulled incredibly sad faces, and Blue was close to crying again. You would be lying if it didn’t pull at your heart-strings. “We’re here to make sure you take care of yourself, spark. You’re packing your things and then we’ll stay at Steven’s house and help you study”, Yellow nearly shouted at you. It wasn’t malicious, just her expressing her genuine concern. A relic of times now gone. You thought about it for a second - you could take your books with you, as well as your laptop and notes. Classes were over for now, you only had to attend the exams in two weeks. Technically, you could do it. And with the look they were giving you and all their efforts to make you feel better, you agreed. How could you say no to your giant space ladies? Especially when they were bending over backwards to comfort you. Steven was even more surprised to see the four of you two hours later. You had texted him on the way, but it had been left unread. The Diamonds didn’t really care for announcing their visits, but even this was a bit sudden. After White had explained everything to him, he simply slinked back to bed, planning on discussing the logistics of the situation in the morning. You were allowed to sleep on the couch, but not without the protest of the Diamonds. You loved falling asleep with them around, though regarding the circumstances they would probably dote on you until you were wide awake. They also tended to fight over who got to be the one you would sleep on, and you didn’t have the nerves for that right now. When you left the beach house the next morning, you were greeted with the sight of the three of them practically camping in front of the deck. They had missed you that much, it seemed.

“Good morning, guys!”

You were greeted by various nicknames and excited faces, White the first one to scoop you up. Behind your back, Steven groaned in his cup. “So, what have you planned, darling?”, her voice was chipper as ever, her bright eyes burning your retinas. Maybe Steven was right and it was just a little too early, but no take-backs now. “About that...”, you scratched your cheek in slight discomfort. “I have to study the whole day.” White’s fell immediately, clearly stunned. “I told you yesterday - I have things to do, but you can keep me company. Maybe even help me?” She blinked at you once, the gears in her head clearly turning. Then she gave you an eye-watering smile. “Whatever this studying is, we’ll help you!” You groaned internally. How many times had you explained it to her already?

It went better than you initially expected. The weather outside was nice and warm, the beach calm enough to simply set up a little picnic blanket with your books and notes. (You left your laptop inside, not wanting to get sand into it.) Surrounded by three (surprisingly silent) giant figures watching your every move, you got to work. It was a little awkward at first, but you fell into a routine soon enough. Each of them had her own unique way of helping you; Blue would simply nod and smile when you tried to regurgitate the material to her, White would go on a tangent whenever she recognized something you were talking about, earning her a warning glare from Yellow. Yellow herself would try to quiz you on whatever notes you had pulled up on your gemtech tablet (they were surprisingly resistant to sand). It quickly became one of the most successful days so far, you were impressed. Being with them kept you grounded, they were like a calming aura to keep your anxiety at bay. And they were extremely helpful. It was almost comical, you had to admit. At the end of the day, you were finally able to pack up your books and enjoy the evening with them. It felt good to know that you had managed to get so much done today. You were strangely at ease, their presence strengthening you. You did worry however, that this routine might get boring for them - it wasn’t like the nice things you did usually, it wasn’t playful, entertaining or relaxing. You didn’t want to force them into staying with you, you didn’t want to bore them. With a sigh you shouldered your tote bag, still too caught up in your head. Your sudden shift in mood didn’t go unnoticed. “Little one, are you alright?”, Blue crouched down next to you, her soft eyes glowing in the dusk, her form crowding you in shade.

You looked up to her, a little unsure on how to word your feelings.

"It's just", you opened and closed the fist around your bag straps. "Did you enjoy today? Was it dull? I-I still have two weeks to go and it's gonna stay the same, pretty much."

She sighed, her tense shoulders slacking.

"We enjoy your company", she gave you a smile. "We haven't spent time with each other in such a long time, starlight. If we were able to accompany every second of your life, we would."

She offered you a hand and you happily jumped on it, a little flustered at her words. They were so serious, so heartfelt. Sometimes you did forget that they were older than civilization on earth, that they would outlive you by eons.

"Thank you, Blue", you peered up at her, a relieved smile appearing on your face. "Your company helps me so much, you know? It would mean the world to me if you stayed with me until the exam."

Luckily for you, Steven had given you permission to stay on the beach - you were also allowed to sleep on the couch, but you knew you'd have to stay with the Diamonds. It was the least you could do to pay them back, even if it was just this little thing.

And this was exactly how you spent the last days leading up to your finals, either sprawled on the picnic blanket on the beach, sitting on the deck with your laptop or, when the weather didn't allow it, lounging on the couch or on the ship. You were surrounded by Blue, Yellow and White at all times, each of them trying her best to help you with the material. They kept you on track, making sure you didn't procrastinate too much (even if that meant less cuddles) and nipped any self-doubts you had in the bud.

Even as the date got dangerously close, they still patiently calmed you down. When your panic got too bad, one of them made sure to keep you close, either putting you into her lap or patting your head. At night, they talked to you until you fell asleep and woke you up better than your little phone alarm could ever do. You knew that even if you didn't pass, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

Still, you were an anxious mess when the first exam rolled around, your mind a thousand miles away as you got ready to go to uni and to give it your all. Not even the Diamonds were able to calm you down, but you knew you just had to get it done and over with. The week was a blur, days blending into each other, your head always buried in a book. You were lucky that they had stayed behind with Steven, only calling you at the end of the day. While the fussing had been helpful beforehand, now it would only hinder you.

Before you could really settle into a routine, finals were over, leaving you with a weird emptiness and a restless feeling. Now all you had to do was wait for the results, a special kind of torture in itself.

The Diamonds noticed how absent you were, but no amount of well-meaning words could shake your nervousness. You didn't mean to cause them any further stress, but it was tough to keep your mind off things.

When the results were finally posted online, your heart threatened to burst out of your chest, your mouth dry and your hands shaking. You knew there was nothing you could do now, but the thought of weeks of studying going to waste was nearly unbearable. A dozen scenarios ran through your head, not one overly positive.

Once the browser had pulled up your account, the answer was a simple click away. You had to steel yourself by gripping the edge of the table - the Diamonds were waiting outside impatiently, you knew they would lose it if they saw you like this.

With one last breath, you closed your eyes and did what had to be done.

The page was on full display in a matter of milliseconds, your eyes frantically searching for the right column, moving erratically up and down.

Finally you found what you were looking for: you had passed. In a moment of disbelief, you reread the page again, but it was there in tiny black letters.

It was like someone had knocked all the air out of you with a single hit, your heart wasn't done with beating fast, but at least some of the nervousness slowly dissipated.

The realization took a while to settle in as you deflated in your seat like beach ball slowly losing air. You stared at the wall, a smile cautiously spreading on your face as if you were afraid that too much joy would nullify your results. But after a solid minute, not even your stress-addled mind fog could hold you back from jumping out of your seat in joy.

Busting through the door, you cheered loudly while you ran across the deck, immediately focusing all attention on you. Steven had distracted the Diamonds to give you some time and space, but at the sound of your happy shouting they instantly turned around, faces unsure for a second.

You raced through the sand, arms in the air, relieved laughter pouring out of your mouth like a steady stream. It was probably not the most flattering or mature look, but you couldn't care less.

"I passed!", with one last cry you came to a grinding halt in front of them, only to jump up into the air. "I did it! Ha!"

Blue's face was the first to soften into a tender smile, her expression clearly full of pride, followed by White who looked at you in excitement.

Yellow only blinked at you for a moment before she erupted in delighted laughter and scooped you up without a word, her eyes beaming with glee. It was rare for her to lose her composure like this, but that made it all the more sweet. You shot back the biggest grin you could manage, positively vibrating in her palm.

"We're so proud of you, little one", Blue's voice came out as a gentle sigh, stress falling off her back you didn't even know she had felt. It made you stop for a moment, finally grasping how your situation had affected them and how much they cared for you.

You teared up in an instant, the sudden change of feelings giving you whiplash, your heart suddenly bubbling with love and gratefulness. It was unbelievable how lucky you were, you realized.

At the sight of your sniffling face, Yellow brought you closer to her, her eyes full of warmth. It was as if she was shielding you from the others for just a moment of privacy.

"No reason to cry, spark", her tone was as soft as the look she gave you and did exactly the opposite: you couldn't help but let some tears slip down your cheeks, babbling about how happy you were to have passed and to be with them, while she smiled at you in slight amusement.

The moment was interrupted by an awkward Steven coughing not-so-subtly into his fist.

"Okay, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it?", his voice reached a clumsy high, he clearly felt like he was disturbing something.

The Diamonds didn't really notice however, they just happily sent him off and turned their attention back to you. You were showered in affection and soft words, they were genuinely happy for you and even more ecstatic to have you all for themselves for a couple of weeks. As you listened to White ramble on and on about what she had planned for you during this break, you felt the pressure lift itself from you. All this stress had been worth it and now you were rewarded with all the love you could ever ask for. You knew that this was where you belonged.

#blue diamond x reader #yellow diamond x reader #white diamond x reader #steven universe #the diamonds x reader #my writing

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maybeimamuppet · 4 years ago

Text

the first date

Damian wakes up to two wildly different texts, one from Cady and one from Janis.

Cady’s is about what he can expect from her; if not a touch more nervous.

Little Slice: Good morning Damian!! I’m sure Janis has already told you but she’s taking me on a date tonight and she won’t tell me where we’re going do you have time to come over and maybe help me put together something to wear???? love you!!

And then there’s Janis.

Janjan: dame can u come over today i’m taking caddy out tonight and i’m losing my shit

Oh boy. He’d been absolutely thrilled when they’d finally announced they were dating, but he should’ve known they would never make it easy on him. He decides to go to Cady’s first, Janis will need his support right up until she leaves to go get her.

He texts both of them while he has breakfast and feeds his little french bulldog, Pippa. He learns that Janis is picking Cady up at four to take her to the zoo, so he has a couple hours to kill before he needs to be with either of them. He sends a text to Cady letting her know he’ll be over around one, getting a thumbs up and several heart emojis in response.

True to his word, he knocks on the Heron’s front door at exactly one, greeting Cady’s mom politely before she shoos him up to Cady’s room. She’s sitting at her desk, still in her Lion King pajamas, working on what Damian can only assume is calculus. He taps lightly on the doorframe, wincing a little as she jumps practically out of her chair before snapping her head to look at him. Once she sees it’s him, though, she smiles brightly and rushes up to hug him, as if she had no idea he was coming.

“Damian! You’re here! I totally lost track of time, I was doing math to relax because Janis won’t tell me anything about where we’re going so I don’t know what to wear or how many people are going to be there and I don’t know what to expect so I’m nervous but it’s also my first date with Janis and I’m so excited and-“ She bursts out rapidly. He envies her breath control, sometimes.

“Whoa, little slice. Deep breaths. I’m here to help, she told me what she has planned and it sounds really cute. I think you’ll like it,” Damian says lowly, massaging her arms to help calm her. “There will probably be a fair number of people around, but I don’t think you’ll notice them and they will definitely not notice you. And I’m here to help you pick something to wear that’ll make Janis combust when she sees you. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks Damian,” she says, resting her chin on his chest and grinning up at him. He gives her another tight squeeze before making his way to her closet.

“Oh, my god. Okay,” He whispers to himself once he opens it. It’s a violent clashing of various flannels and bright pinks, but he spies a few pieces he can probably work with. “I’ve never seen a lot of this stuff before! Most of this is really cute,” He exclaims, pulling out a yellow sundress that it’s definitely still too cold out to wear.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been meaning to go through and give stuff to Gretchen and Karen that I know I won’t wear. Some of it just isn’t me, and some of the fabrics bug me,” Cady mutters shyly, as if he’d ever judge her for that.

He would never judge her, but he had not taken it into consideration. “Okay, so what kinds of fabrics or textures irritate you?” He asks, flicking through what she has hanging.

“Um, wool or anything scratchy, certain kinds of denim, and most things made of polyester, off the top of my head.” That limits the Plastic side of the closet rather severely.

“What about corduroy?” He asks, spying a green overall dress she bought at the tail end of her time as a Plastic. The color is almost exactly the same as Janis’ favorite jacket, maybe he can coordinate a color scheme. She reaches out to feel it before nodding. “Groovy, now we just need something to go under it.” They’re in the midst of what’s known as “Fool’s Spring”, so it’s just about warm enough outside for her to leave her legs bare. He starts digging through her stuff again, looking for some kind of top to go underneath the dress.

“Did you just say ‘groovy’ in earnest?”

“Yes, I did, thank you.”

“I have some more stuff in my dresser if you want to look at those,” Cady says, decidedly moving on. He puts the discarded garments back on their hangers and closes her closet carefully before moving to root through the drawer she’s pulled open.

“Don’t you judge me, Miss Grool. Let’s see what we have in here,” He says, grinning to himself a little as he pulls out several of Janis’ hoodies. “You guys have only been officially dating for, like, two weeks! How did you already get all these?”

Cady flushes, nearly matching her hair. “She gave me one a long time ago, and it was so comfy I just... never gave it back. And now I borrow them whenever she’s not looking. But only the ones she doesn’t really wear! And I’ll give them back. Eventually.”

Damian laughs at that, knowing full well she won’t give them back until Janis notices they’re gone. “I say go for it, little slice. Payback for her stealing mine since we were little.”

“Aww, you guys must’ve been so cute,” Cady coos, stretching up and pinching one of his cheeks like a grandmother would. “I wanna see pictures soon.”

“You’ll have to fight Jan on that one,” he says, pulling out a black sweater made of the softest fabric he’s ever felt. “Holy shit, this is so nice. Is this one you can handle?”

“Oh yeah, that’s my favorite sweater, I forgot about that. Thanks Dame,” she says, taking it from him gently.

“Okay now go put this on so I can be sure it actually works together,” he demands, clapping his hands and shoving her delicately towards the bathroom. He knows it will, he just wants to see Cady in it.

She shuffles back in a few minutes later and gives a little twirl, holding her hands out to her sides. Damian pretends to take pictures of her like she’s on a runway, and they both start laughing as she goes along with it and starts doing various exaggerated poses.

After a few minutes of shenanigans, he checks the time and realizes he’s been at her place for nearly an hour and a half. Cady is very easy to get lost in conversation with.

“Are you gonna be good if I go now? I have to take Pippa on a walk before dark and run some errands for my mom,” He says, coming up with a little white lie in case Janis doesn’t want Cady to know what he’ll actually be doing.

She nods and comes to hug him goodbye, reaching up to squish his cheeks. He’s exactly a foot taller than her, so she has to reach just a little to get to him, making them both giggle. She gives him one last squeeze, muttering, “Give Pip a snuggle for me?” into his chest before pulling away. He says he absolutely will before wishing her luck and leaving her alone. First job done.

——

Janis’ ten-year-old sister, Juliana, opens the door for him as he steps onto the porch. Their mom must be running errands or something, she doesn’t work Saturdays.

Julie pulls him down to mutter “She’s a mess,” into his ear before running back to the living room with a squeak as Janis calls “I heard that!” from the top of the stairs.

“I’m not a mess,” she murmurs as she reaches him at the bottom, but Damian can tell her anxiety is getting to her.

“Have you taken your meds today?” He whispers into her hair, groaning as she shakes her head. “Janis Olivia, I swear. You gotta take those regularly or they don’t work. Go take them and get something to eat. I’m gonna go pick your outfit.” He pushes her lightly towards the kitchen and thanks the heavens she goes willingly.

Letting himself into her room, he sees the telltale signs of a stressed Janis. Sketchbook open to a random page on her bed, filled with rough sketches of a familiar little redhead. She left her phone blaring music on her nightstand, and he can see faint footprints in the plush carpet from where she’s been pacing.

Damian knows Janis’ closet very well, as she makes him pick her clothes for any important event. He has an outfit in mind already, but he’s a little worried about how Janis will react to part of it. He pulls out the pieces he wants, laying them on her bed gently as she waltzes in. She shuts off the music before turning to look.

“Pants?” She grimaces as soon as she sees what he’s picked. He called it.

“I know, I know, but hear me out. You can still wear your fishnets underneath, they’ll look cool with the rips. And, Cady’s never seen you wear pants before! All you’ve ever worn are your shorts and dresses,” he begs. He knows Cady will love her in this, and it’s in Janis’ comfort zone enough that she’ll still feel confident in it.

“Fine. Turn around, loser.” She grumbles, faking annoyance. He obliges, turning around and covering his eyes until she says he can look. He turns back to face her as she’s pulling her less-decorated green jacket over her black and white checkered crop top, and adjusting where the rips fall on her black mom jeans. “How do I look?” She asks, spinning around like Cady did.

“Bitchin’.” He says, pushing her to her mirror so Janis can see herself. She checks herself out, and Damian can see the grin growing on her face. She really does look great, if he does say so himself.

“Okay, yes, you did a great job, as always. Thank you,” she says as she turns around to hug him. “Now can you help with my hair and makeup?”

———-

Damian pretty much does her typical makeup, just with slightly less around her eyes. After he finishes swiping on her signature dark purple lipstick (and making extra sure to set it enough), they both start talking at the same time.

“Do you think the zoo is too cliché?”

“Can I try something different with your hair?”

“Do whatever you think will look best, Dame. I trust you. But really, is it dumb?”

He grabs her mom’s curling wand and gets to work after putting on a heat protectant. “I don’t think it’s dumb, I think it’s cute. You want to do something she’d like, and she loves animals. Caddy chased that duck around the park for, like, half an hour last week, she’ll love it.”

Janis bursts out laughing at the memory, trying not to move her head to avoid getting a serious burn. “I didn’t think I’d be this nervous. We went out all the time when we were just friends, but like, what if she hates it? What if I’m so awkward she changes her mind and decides she doesn’t want to date me after all? What if I do something dumb and she gets uncomfortable?”

“And what if it’s perfect? Janjan, Caddy’s been pining for you for the better part of a year, and she’s been your best friend for even longer. If she hasn’t run off screaming by now, she’s not going to.” He says comfortingly, shutting off the iron and starting to run a brush through her two-toned hair. “Now hold still, you’re gonna mess it up.”

Janis goes stiff, holding as still as she can. He can tell she’s still very nervous, but she seems to be doing better than earlier, since she didn’t immediately try to contradict everything he just said.

He starts brushing her hair up into a high ponytail, asking “So are you only taking her to the zoo? Or do you have some other scandalous plan for later that you’re not telling me about?” to distract from what he’s doing. It was a valiant attempt that failed miserably, and she shoots him a look in the mirror.

“Um, if she’s not too tired I was gonna take her to that clearing by the pond we found a while ago to watch the stars. She knows all about that stuff,” She murmurs, fiddling with a scrunchie. Regretfully, it is the one Damian needs, so he plucks it delicately from her fingers and gives her the brush to play with instead.

He snaps the scrunchie into place around the ponytail, spraying it lightly with hairspray so the curl holds. He wipes some pretend tears from under his eyes, saying, “My baby girl, all grown up, going on her first date,” with highly exaggerated emotion. Janis laughs, shaking her head and watching her hair bounce around in the mirror.

——-

Julie manages to corral them into playing Mario Kart for a bit, Janis only being able to do one race before she has to go. She grabs her backpack and the large pile of blankets from by the door and puts her boots on, going to kiss both of them on the forehead and remind her sister to feed their cat, Pancakes.

“Get out of the way, Janny, I’m about to win,” Julie whines, kicking her lightly in the shins.

Damian cackles at that, saying “Yeah right, squirt. Have fun, Janjan. Make good choices and send me pictures,” Before also shooing her out of the way. Janis rolls her eyes at them as she locks the front door behind her and texts her mom that she’s going but left Julie with Damian.

——

Janis hears her phone ping as she’s pulling up to Cady’s house. She dries her slightly sweaty hands on her pants before digging for her phone in her bag, grinning as she sees the message.

Cady Girl: Do I need to bring money or anything??? I can’t wait to see you btw, I’m so excited!!!!!

Janis texts her back, telling her all she might need to bring is a blanket and reminding her to wear good shoes since they’ll be walking a lot.

She grabs the flowers and cup she acquired on her drive over and heads up to the door, knocking politely. Cady opens it with a squealed “Janis!” before she’s in her arms, nearly knocking the stuff out of her hands.

Cady clocks them after a few seconds, asking, “Are those for me?” and pointing to the flowers.

Janis pecks her on the cheek in greeting, answering, “No, these are for your mom. Damian said it’d be a good idea. This is for you,” and handing her the venti chai she got from the Starbucks a few blocks out of their neighborhood.

“Aww, Jan, that’s so sweet. Thank you,” Cady coos at her, taking the cup and calling for her parents. “Mom, Daddy, Janis is here! She got you flowers!” Janis flushes bright pink as Mrs. Heron emerges from the kitchen.

“Oh, hello Janis. Thank you, these are lovely,” she says, taking them from her before turning to Cady. “Binti, you know the rules. Home by ten and make good choices.”

“Yes, mom, I will,” Cady says as she hugs her mom goodbye, turning to grab her bag and the blanket she picked out. “Tell dad I said bye. Love you,” she calls as she drags Janis out by the hand and shuts the door loudly behind her. “Sorry about that, she can be so embarrassing sometimes.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. It’s cute,” Janis says, opening the door to her truck for Cady to be chivalrous. She gets in on the other side and chuckles as Cady sips her tea, cradling the cup as if it’s the most precious thing she’s ever been given.

“You’re wearing pants! And your hair is up!” Cady nearly chokes on her drink as she finally notices, reaching out to tug gently on a curl and watch it spring back into place. “You look so beautiful.”

Janis flushes scarlet again. “Thanks. So do you,” she mutters, grabbing Cady’s hand and kissing her knuckles, feeling the last of her nerves fading into the background.

“So do I get to know where you’re taking me yet?”

“Nope. I want it to be a surprise. Just enjoy the ride, Peanut.” Janis says, reaching for Cady’s hand again as she drives. She takes it and starts playing with her fingers, fiddling with her rings.

“Fine,” Cady pouts. They continue chatting quietly, Janis rubbing her thumb over the back of Cady’s hand. After a while, she goes quiet. Janis looks over to see her asleep, curled up adorably in her seat. Maybe it’ll be a surprise after all. Now she can’t see all the signs saying “ZOO” they keep driving by.

————

Cady still hasn’t woken up by the time Janis has paid for and found a parking space. She goes around to open her door for her, shaking her awake gently.

“Caddy. We’re here, it’s time to wake up.”

“Noooooo,” Cady whines, pawing indignantly at her hand and curling into herself.

“Yeeeees,” Janis laughs. “Come on, this’ll be fun!” She reaches over to click Cady’s seatbelt off, grabbing her hands and hauling her to her feet.

Cady rubs at her eyes blearily, looking around to see where she is. It takes her a second, but once she sees the big lion on the sign nearby it clicks and she jumps into Janis’ arms.

“Jay! We’re at the zoo?!” She squeals into her ear.

Janis laughs as she scoops her up, spinning her around a few times before setting her down again. “Yeah, do you like it?”

“Yes! Come on, let’s go, let’s go let’s go! I wanna go in!” Cady exclaims, bouncing excitedly as she grabs Janis’ hand and goes into a full-tilt run towards the gates.

“Caddy, Jesus, please slow down a little. It’s not even five yet, we have time,” Janis calls.

Cady stops suddenly, turning to look at her. “Oh, sorry. I got carried away,” she says sheepishly. Janis tips her chin up and boops her nose lightly.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m glad you’re excited. Just do it at a speed I can handle,” Janis tells her, breathing a little heavier. Cady grabs her hand again, gentler this time, and starts walking them at a much more reasonable speed towards the gates.

——-

“Where do you wanna go first, Kitkat?” Janis asks, flicking through the map she grabbed once she’d bought their tickets.

“Uhm...” Cady hums pensively. “The aquarium?”

“Sounds great, that’s this way,” Janis answers, pointing down a pathway to their left.

Once they enter the dark building, Cady makes a beeline for the small touch tank, rolling up her sleeves and quickly skimming the rules before sticking a hand in, giggling as a little stingray comes up and brushes against her. Janis comes up behind her, putting her arms around her waist and bending down to rest her chin on her shoulder.

“Do you wanna feel, Jayjay?” Cady asks, holding Janis’ hands with her free one. Janis shakes her head, kissing her jawline gently.

“Nah, I don’t like touching wet things that move. Creeps me out,” she says, prompting a laugh from Cady, who reaches up to pat her cheek with her dry hand.

“We’ll have to go to the petting zoo then, I saw it on the map. Those are just dry things that move,” She teases, turning her head around and kissing Janis’ nose before moving to get some hand sanitizer.

Janis takes her now clean hand and leads them deeper into the building, towards a much, much larger tank that reaches the high ceiling, filled with various tropical fish. Cady goes up to press her face against it, pointing excitedly as a massive shark swims right past her.

Janis stays back for a second, sneaking a quick picture of her, illuminated by the lights in the tank. It gives her auburn hair an almost ethereal glow, making her look like some sort of siren. She puts her phone back into her pocket, deciding to paint the photo later.

Cady turns around to grin at her, gesturing for Janis to come look at the fish. Janis comes up, taking a place next to Cady and admiring the brightly colored fish swimming by. They really are beautiful, but she’s more interested in sneaking glances at her girlfriend’s excited smile.

Cady suddenly throws her arms around her, burrowing into her chest. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she mutters, resting her chin on her chest and smiling up at her. “I love it.”

Janis wraps an arm around her shoulders, brushing Cady’s hair from her forehead with her other hand before leaning down and peppering kisses on all the freckles she can see. She wants to kiss her on the lips, it certainly wouldn’t be their first, but she’s still anxious about doing so in public. Cady squeals at the sensation, smushing her face into her chest again.

“Janis?” she murmurs after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“Can we get food?”

Janis laughs, kissing her hair again. “Yes, we can. Let’s go find something.”

——

Once Cady is satisfied with her belly full of pizza, they make their way over to the section of the park with the African animals, which they’re both the most excited about. Janis has to grip her hand firmly to stop her from running off again.

Cady rushes through the gorillas and hyenas, prattling off every fact she knows so quickly Janis can’t really understand what she’s saying, but she nods and enjoys them nonetheless.

Eventually, they find themselves on a tall platform overlooking the giraffe enclosure, and Cady practically starts vibrating with excitement when she sees the sign listing all the feeding times. Janis looks over and sees the next one is in three minutes, wordlessly going to get in line to buy a bucket of lettuce.

Cady barely notices her absence, pressed up against the fence and admiring the tall creatures as they come up to get fed. Janis hands her a bit, laughing as one comes up directly in front of them and promptly begins to lick the railing separating them.

Cady proffers her leaf, laughing as Janis yelps “What the fuck?!” when its long, alien tongue pokes out to grab it.

A zookeeper comes up, informing them that their giraffe’s name is Georgie and politely asking them not to pet him before wandering off to the next group. They take turns feeding him and taking pictures of each other doing so, until Cady sticks her hand in the bucket to get another bit of lettuce and notices they’ve run out. She pouts sadly as they both wave goodbye to Georgie before returning the empty bucket and washing their hands at the small sink on the other side of the platform.

——

They go see the lions next, Janis’ heart giving a painful squeeze as she watches Cady stare longingly through the fence, pressed against it as close as she can be. She loves her life here now, but every once in a while her heart longs for her old friends. She stands there, watching as the gentle breeze ruffles the mane of the one closest to her, and as the new cubs chase each other around. She’ll see her own lions again, someday. She knows it.

Janis snaps another sneaky picture of her, sending it to Damian with a sad face emoji; he responds in kind with several more crying emojis. Cady doesn’t linger for too long, coming up to Janis for a quick hug before they move on.

Janis keeps an arm around Cady’s shoulders, squeezing her gently as they walk toward the elephant and rhino building. She winces at the smell as soon as they enter, but Cady doesn’t seem fussed by it. They walk down the hall to where the large windows are, looking for an opening in the wall of people blocking them.

Janis thinks she’s found an area behind a few people. She can certainly see fine. “Aww, there’s a little baby one. Look, Cads,” she says, pointing.

“Jay, I can’t see anything. There’s people in the way.” It is at this point that Janis suddenly remembers that Cady is 5’3 on a good day, and that she’s a whole seven inches taller than her girlfriend.

“Oh, sorry Peanut,” Janis says sheepishly. “Hold on a second.” She hunches over, gesturing for Cady to climb onto her back. She obliges with a giggle, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and resting her chin on top of Janis’ ponytail as she grabs her thighs to hold her steady. Once she’s sure Cady’s secure, Janis straightens back up.

Now that her eye level is a good foot higher than it used to be, Cady can indeed see the baby elephant Janis was referring to, cooing over it as memories of Kenya come flooding back once again. They walk around a little, listening to the recording of a voice listing facts about the creatures and the area they normally live in, Janis laughing as Cady confirms or debunks everything the robotic voice says.

Cady is still clinging to Janis like a baby monkey as they leave the building, burying her nose in Janis’ apple-scented hair and pressing a few kisses to the top of her head. Janis doesn’t seem to mind, though, adjusting her grip and trying desperately not to think about the amount of bare thigh Cady’s dress is making available for her to hold onto.

“Where next, baby?” She asks, freezing as the pet name slips out of her mouth before she can stop it.

Cady pretends not to notice it for the moment, murmuring, “Erm... penguins?” into her ear softly.

“Did you just pick those because they’re all the way across the park and you want me to carry you more?”

“Maybe,” Cady hums, squishing her cheek against Janis’ warm, flushed one. As Janis starts walking she decides now is probably an okay time to ask about the name. “I’m baby?”

Janis bursts out laughing at that, much to her confusion. “Sorry, that’s an old meme I haven’t shown you yet. I’ll do that later. If you don’t like it I can call you something else. I just thought it fit,” she mutters the end quietly.

“No I love it! Aaron never nicknamed me,” Cady says before remembering mentioning her ex on her first official date with her new girlfriend was potentially not the best move. Stupid with love. “But now I have to come up with more cute things to call you!” She tightens her grip on Janis’ shoulders slightly.

———-

She’s spent the entire walk over to the Antarctica exhibit thinking of something to call Janis. “What about Jellybean? That’s fun,” she asks as Janis gently sets her on her feet again.

“Absolutely not,” Janis squeaks, turning away and pretending to be very interested in an informative plaque to hide how much she’s blushing.

“Aww, you’re all blushy. You’re just as sappy as I am,” Cady teases, poking her arm lightly.

“No I’m not!” Janis insists, gesturing to herself. “Look at me. Look at my boots, look at my hair. I’m tough. I’m a badass. Now let’s go see some fucking adorable penguins.”

Cady bursts into giggles. “Fine, mpenzi, you’re tough as nails. But you’re also going the wrong way,” She calls as Janis is briskly walking away. She freezes for a second before turning around and confidently going the correct way as if that’s what she meant to do all along.

“We are never speaking of this again.”

———-

They find a little bench just across from the exhibit, deciding just to sit and watch them quietly for a while. Janis nearly falls off the bench at one point, laughing hysterically as two of the penguins start fighting over some fish. She laughs even harder as an exhausted keeper comes out to break them up, looking as if it’s not the first time those two have gotten into it today. Cady’s not really paying attention to what’s happening, just grinning as she watches her girlfriend laugh so freely.

Once Janis has recovered, gently wiping tears of laughter from under her eyes, she takes Cady’s hand and pulls them up again. “Okay, you ready for best first date ever part two?”

“There’s more?” Cady asks. “But this was already so fun.” She pouts, wrapping herself in Janis once again.

“Hell yeah there’s more. I have a legal obligation to spoil you now,” Janis grins, leaning down to kiss her forehead gently. “Now come on, we can stop by the gift shop on the way out.”

———

As soon as they walk in, Cady spies a pile of stuffed animals, her eye going specifically to a lion one on top. She runs over to check the price, wincing as she sees that it’s nearly thirty dollars. Janis bought her entrance ticket, and dinner, and let her feed the giraffes, and she didn’t bring any of her own money. She puts it back delicately and makes her way over to where Janis is looking at various keychains.

“Hey, Peanut. Did you find anything?” Janis had definitely noticed her rush over to the stuffed animals, and her dejected frown as she walked over to her.

Cady shakes her head, popping up on her tiptoes to lean her head on Janis’ shoulder. “No, I was just looking. I’ve never been able to find my name on one of these things,” she says, reaching out to flick at one that says Allison. They have her middle name, at least.

“I haven’t either,” Janis says, leaning her head against Cady’s. “At least never spelled correctly. Anyway, do you want to keep looking and see if you find anything? I saw something over there I wanted to grab for Damian,” she lies. The pizza was much cheaper than she had anticipated and her student ID got them

both a discount on their entry fee, so she has a fair bit of money left over. She’s been saving her art prize money, and her mom gave her some to have fun with as well. Time to buy a lion.

She grabs a little bouncy ball for her sister and a pair of sloth socks for Damian. He collects socks, so that’ll make a good enough cover story for now. She snatches the stuffed animal from the pile, rushing up to the counter to buy everything before Cady can see.

She finds her again with both hands in the bin of colorful rocks, sighing at the texture before she removes them again. She jumps lightly as Janis comes up behind her, saying, “Having fun, Kitkat?”

“The texture is satisfying,” she mutters. “Didn’t think you’d find me so fast.”

Janis chuckles, coming up to take her hand. “Are you ready to go?” Cady nods, leading them out the gates and towards Janis’ truck. Janis checks the time once they’ve settled in, finding it to be just before seven thirty. Perfect.

She decides to stop by the Wal-Mart on the way to the clearing to pick up some snacks, Cady still chattering excitedly about how much fun she’s had so far. It must’ve been the tea that put her to sleep last time, now she’s got the most energy Janis has ever seen.

Cady seems a bit confused as they pull into the parking lot, but takes Janis’ hand trustingly regardless. Janis tells her to go pick out a snack she wants, and she nods quickly and darts off. Janis makes a beeline for the chip aisle, immediately grabbing all her favorite kinds before moving on to candy.

In typical Cady form, she comes back carrying only a case of strawberries and two bottles of her favorite sweet tea. “Oh my god, Jan,” she laughs when she sees how many bags Janis is trying to carry. She rushes off once again to grab a cart, returning to Janis and putting her things in it before climbing into the basket herself. Janis raises an eyebrow at her, but ultimately can’t resist the crystal blue puppy eyes blinking pleadingly at her and starts pushing it towards the checkout area with a sarcastic grumble about ‘certain people being too cute for their own damn good’.

———

Janis pulls into the clearing in the woods, telling Cady to close her eyes so she can get everything ready as she cuts the engine.

“Are you gonna murder me now?” Cady jokes as Janis grabs the massive pile of blankets from the backseat and begins making a little nest in the truck bed.

“Yeah,” Janis grunts as she hops up. “Took you out to give you a fun final memory.” It takes her a while, and she swears vigorously as she misses her footing on the way to grab the snacks and nearly falls on her face. She sets all their food up in the middle, and as a finishing touch, puts up Cady’s new stuffie holding up her phone, which is now playing music softly. Not too shabby, but she just hopes her girl likes it.

She goes around to help Cady down, making sure her eyes are still covered as she leads her around to the back before she takes her hands away. “Tah-dah,” she says shyly, but smiles as Cady gasps excitedly.

“Janis! This is incredible! And you bought me that lion,” she squeals, pointing to it. “Thank you!” is all the warning Janis gets before her girlfriend is in her arms, kissing her firmly.

She scrambles to grab her as she suddenly pulls back, saying, “Oh, sorry I didn’t mean- I should’ve asked first,” hastily. Janis sets her down gently before leaning in and pressing their lips together again.

“I appreciate that, but you don’t have to ask anymore, baby. It might take me some time to be comfortable with it in public, but I love your kisses,” She says comfortingly. “Now hop up here and snuggle me.” Cady uses her offered hand as a boost, wriggling up and picking up the stuffed animal to hold it close. Janis follows, getting comfortable in a corner she made extra cushy before gesturing for Cady to come to her.

She obliges, leaning her back against Janis’ chest and resting her head on her shoulder so they can both see the sky. “You don’t have to ask, either,” She murmurs quietly after a few peaceful seconds. “In case you were wondering.”

“Good to know,” Janis says, pulling her tighter against her and wrapping them

both up in another blanket. They watch the sun set in silence, observing the stars getting brighter the lower it gets.

“Which one do you like better?” Janis asks after a long moment.

“Hmm?”

“The sky. Is it better here or in Kenya?”

Cady thinks for a minute. “Uhm, both,” she says softly. “There’s less smog in Africa, obviously, so you can see more. The stars themselves are more distinct and you can see more of them. But everything just stretches on for miles, I could see everything around me, and it always reminded me how alone I was. Here I have you, and Damian, and so many people that I know actually care about me. There’s less sky, but more people to share it with.”

“That’s confusing,” Janis cracks in a ditch attempt to lighten the mood. “What constellations do you know?”

Cady takes her hand gently and uses it to point out what she can see, telling her the scientific names of all the stars she knows and the stories behind all the shapes.

“How do you know all this?” Janis asks after she’s pointed out everything they can see, turning Cady around in her lap to face her.

“My brother taught me when I was little, and then I just kept studying it after that.” Cady surmises, nuzzling into her shoulder and starting to stim with the ends of her hair.

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, he-um. He passed away when I was ten. He was in the military,” Cady says.

“Oh.” Janis says. “I’m sorry. My biological father died when I was four but I still don’t... really know what to say in this kind of situation.” She mumbles, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. It’s awkward for everyone,” Cady comforts.

“Tell me about him,” Janis asks. “If you want to, no pressure.” She adds hastily, relieved as her girlfriend chuckles lightly.

“Okay, um- his name is Rhys. He was the best, he taught me all about science and stuff, and he always made up games with me when our parents were busy with their research. I used to get nightmares a lot when I was little, and he would sneak into my tent to cuddle me back to sleep before I woke anyone else up,” Cady recalls fondly. “I think he was a genius, too. He knew everything. He wanted to be a doctor, actually. We couldn’t afford to pay for all of his schooling, so he joined the army to get help with that when he was eighteen. He was almost at the end of his service when he died, he was twenty. My parents never told me what happened, all they ever told me was that there was an accident and he was never in any pain.”

Janis presses Cady impossibly closer to her, kissing her soft cherry-scented curls. “He sounds wonderful, baby. Sounds a lot like you, actually.” She says, nuzzling their noses together.

“You think? My parents say that a lot, but I never believed them,” Cady mutters softly.

——-

They continue to chat quietly as the sky gets ever darker, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Eventually, they go quiet, and Cady leans up to press their lips together gently. Janis sinks into her, tangling her fingers into curly auburn hair and nipping her bottom lip softly.

In her head, Janis knows that the universe is above them, stretching infinitely into nothing. But in her heart, she knows that there are just as many stars in Cady’s eyes, just as much beauty in her heart. Her whole universe is right here, in her arms.

--------

lol remember when I said this one would be shorter ?? oh well.

hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading!

-ezzy

#cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #damian hubbard #paint by numbers #janis x cady #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls broadway

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dawnrider · 4 years ago

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yeeeeeeeessssss . fluff 12: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Soooooo.... A million and a half years later, I’m finally getting to this prompt that @superpixie42 has now officially forgotten she sent me. 🎉

This hails from the Stocking Stuffers Universe which also included Dinner and Dancing. A nice fluffy “how they met” type story. It also happens to coincide with @inukag-week‘s prompt for the day of Acceptance. Enjoy, Lovelies!

The grassy knoll at the bottom of the biggest hill on campus was the best spot for a break between classes. Kagome made a point to meet up with friends there at least once a week, but often stopped alone to sit under the large maple that remained its central focus. There was a large retaining wall higher up the hill that was a frequent spot for the architecture students to sit, sketching the buildings around them, analyzing the lines… usually horsing around. Kagome favored a book in her spare time, since she did so much studying at home, but today she had a test to finish reviewing for in her next class.

A chorus of laughter caught her attention, drawing her eyes up to the wall. There were several male students and a lone female student, sitting with a sprawl of meal bags and large sketch pads. One young man, with dark hair pulled in a low tail, was playfully elbowing another in the ribs. With silver hair that nearly glinted in the sunlight and a look on his face that promised retribution, the other young man fairly vibrated with irritation.

Until it burst.

"Fucking...fine!" he shouted, vaulting off the wall with amazing grace and landing as though it were nothing. Which Kagome realized had to mean he was at least part youkai, because that wall was high. She read in the campus paper a month or so before that a human student had broken a leg and arm trying to impress friends by jumping down and miscalculating the height. And the fact that there was a hill at the bottom.

Kagome went back to her textbook, paging to her next sticky referencing the basilar membrane and set in for a very technical read.

"Um…"

Blinking, Kagome looked up and found the silver haired guy standing near enough to obviously be addressing her without getting too close. "Hi?” His eyes widened at her soft greeting and she could see that they were golden in color. “Can I help you with something?”

“Uh. Well… I…” He clearly hadn’t thought that they would get this far into the conversation. Still not sure what his goal was, Kagome slowly sat up and set her book aside. “My friend has been giving me a hard time and…”

“I noticed. I’m Kagome, by the way,” she cut in when he was struggling to continue.

“I-Inuyasha.” She smiled at his light blush. “See, he thinks that you’re probably a freshman, but I thought you were older.” His eyes widened when her eyebrow went up at his choice of words. “Not that you look old or… Shit.”

Kagome grinned, resting her chin in her hand while looking up at him, nearly sweating under the collar with anxiety now and ready to abandon his mission. “Sit down a sec. You look like you need a break.” He complied without a second thought, plopping into the grass beside her. They both pretended not to hear the jeering calls from the wall. “Is this a bet? ‘Cause you won. I’m a junior.” Inuyasha’s golden eyes flashed triumphantly, then he winced. “I’m guessing you lot are younger?”

“No. I’m a senior. Miroku, my friend, he’s a senior on a victory lap. Maybe a second one… I can’t remember now.” Kagome giggled. “We’re architecture.”

“I figured. I see you guys up there a lot.” She noticed the intrigued look in his eyes just before she noticed the pair of fluffy ears that seemed to appear on top of his head. She let out a little delighted gasp, which caused them to lay back again and his face to shutter. “Saw that landing too. Nice. Way to not break anything.”

Inuyasha froze, then slowly relaxed. He obviously sensed the acceptance in her demeanor. “Yea, well that kid was human and didn’t know how to roll into the impact.” They chatted for a few minutes about the incident, then fell into a faintly uncomfortable silence. “What are you studying?”

“Oh! I have a test on the cochlea in a bit. Reviewing the basilar membrane functions…” Inuyasha stared at her with no indication of understanding. “It’s part of the inner ear. It moves when sound waves impact the…” She paused again. “It’s pretty boring, really,” she murmured shyly.

“So you’re like, in pre med?”

“No. Audiology. Or I will be. Have to do grad school for that. Right now I’m Speech and Hearing Sciences.”

“That’s cool. You study ears and hearing.” Kagome wasn’t sure he realized that he was wiggling his very prominent ears at her in his excitement. She grinned and nodded. “Wow. Do they have anything on… on canine hearing in there?” he wondered.

Kagome laughed. “Not really. This book focuses on human hearing, but I have another textbook at home that compares human to non-human hearing. I could… Well… if you wanted...”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” he jumped in. She nodded. “Keh. Bring it then.” A light flush lit her cheeks. “I-If that’s alright?”

“Yea. It’s alright.”

The pair continued to meet in the grassy knoll almost every day for a week, only the intense rain one afternoon keeping them from seeing each other. Kagome realized after the storm that she had no way to contact him. They could have chosen one of the libraries to meet instead! The next afternoon, she put on her brave face and sucked up her nervous feelings so she could ask for his number.

“Oh! Yea! I mean,” he paused, clearing his throat, “that would be cool. Or whatever.”

He crouched beside her, starting to put in his password. So focused on the pattern, Inuyasha didn't notice Kagome glancing over his shoulder. He yelped when she grabbed the handset out of his long fingers, studying the screen intently for a moment before looking at him with a faint frown. “Am I your lockscreen?”

She could see the proverbial "oh shit" in his eyes before he snatched the phone back. Kagome waited for him to respond but found that he was speechless. It was a candid shot, obviously taken from the wall, with her casually laying on her stomach, reading a book. The distance and zoom made it a little blurry, but it was definitely her.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he finally squeaked out. Kagome could see by how flat his ears lay against his head that he was about to panic. She had picked up on some of his tells in the last week, as well as done a little research about canine youkai.

What she had also picked up on in her brief search was that hanyou, like Inuyasha, were in an odd place in society. She had never really met anyone with mixed heritage before, so she wasn’t aware of the stigma. Inuyasha was likely made very aware of it, regularly and from an early age.

“You didn’t get a very good angle,” she said lightly, pulling up her own phone and flipping the camera so they could see themselves on the screen. Inuyasha still looked confused and terrified. Kagome smiled brightly and caught one shot that way, then nudged his shoulder. “You gonna smile or what?”

It took him a moment to process what she was doing, how she was reacting to him. That she was… accepting him. When he finally understood all of that, he relaxed, gaze softening, ears returning to their normal position and a faint grin lifting the corner of his lips.

“That’s better.” Kagome snapped another couple of shots to make sure they got a good one. “Here. Give me your number and I’ll send them to you so you can use one of those instead. Much better angle.”

Inuyasha chuckled even as he took out his phone again. “That was pretty slick, you know that? I wouldn’t have guessed you had that in you.”

Kagome grinned as she put his number into a text and shot off the pictures with a heart emoji. “I think there’s a lot of things you’ll find out about me that you wouldn’t have guessed.”

Inuyasha matched her smirk with one of his own. “I accept that.”

@lemonlushff , @fantastiqueparfait , @heavenin–hell, @clearwillow , @mamabearcat , @thunderpo , @keichanz , @meggz0rz , @disgruntledbeast , @sarah-writes-stories , @zelink-inukag , @rikareena , @cammysansstuff , @mcornilliac , @redflamesofpassion , @superpixie42 , @underwater0phelia , @cstorm86 , @noviceotakus-blog , @lavendertwilight89 , @hinezumi , @wenchster , @hnnwnchstr , @lady-dark-69 , @itzatakahashi , @juliatheanimelover7 , @kazeinori , @theinuyashareader , @inupotter , @eternalnight8806-3 , @smmahamazing , @willowandfog , @gaysonthefloor , @sistasecbhere , @jennybean91

#Fluff Prompt #Stocking Stuffers #Inukag-Week #Acceptance #Dawnrider Fanfiction #superpixie42

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marvelsdc22 · 4 years ago

Text

Into The Wild West Christmas Special

Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I figured since I can’t give you guys the constant updates to this series like I should, I would bring you guys a christmas special!! This is one of the two big ones I have planned, this will be connected to the series in the future, so I hope you guys enjoy!! :)

Note: It’s Christmas time with the gang and while they don’t celebrate a lot of things, they make sure to go all out for Christmas time! What gifts does Y/N and Kara have planned to give to their crushes? Read to find out!

Word Count: 2335

Heading into Valentine with Arthur, you tugged your heavy coat on you just a little tighter “Why did Dutch send us here again?” You asked, looking at him and letting him lead the way “He couldn’t get away, wanted us to come and pick up some things for Christmas dinner” he said, glancing at you as you guys headed for the butcher “Wait Christmas?” You asked, you having lost track of the days as you dug in your pack for your journal where you had made a little calendar of sorts “Yes Christmas, Y/N” Arthur laughed, giving you a small shove before he stepped up to the butcher stand and started ordering what Dutch wanted him to get.

You furrowed your brow and looked around, you had been meaning to get something for Sadie but the days had gotten away from you, raising a brow when you spotted the gunsmith “Hey Arthur, I’ll be back” You promised him, touching his arm to make sure he was paying attention before you headed over to the gunsmith, barely stepping foot into the store when the owner greeted you “Hello there, little lady, what can I get for ya?” He asked, leaning on his hands on the counter and watching as you approached “What kind of pistols do you have?” You asked, looking at him and watching as he gave you a small smile before pushing the catalog in front of you “Take a look”.

After about ten minutes and about 300 dollars later, you carefully put the new LeMat Revolver in your pack, looking around and see Arthur struggling to carry all the items in his hands back to the wagon you guys arrived in, you taking off to catch up to him “Give me some of those, dummy” you scolded, taking some of the items from him to help lessen the load “So, what’d you get?” Arthur asked after the two of you split the items “None of your business” you said simply, giving him a smirk before you both headed for the wagon “We have one more stop to make” he said, knowing you were hiding something, but he wasn’t going to push the matter “Alright, lets get to it then” you said, hopping into the front of the wagon and taking the reins “I’m driving!” You said, barely giving him the chance to get settled in the front with you before you took off.

“Do we have everything?” You asked, loading the last bit of gifts into the wagon “We do, lets head back to the camp” Arthur said, dusting his hands off after tying down the items “I’m driving this time” Arthur said, causing you to pout as you got in the front of the wagon with him “Come on, I’m not that bad of a driver” you said, looking at him and sighing and rolling your eyes when he gave you a look “It was one tree!” You pouted, crossing your arms and ignoring his laugh as he had the horses move forward.

Once you guys got back to camp and got everything unloaded, you looked around and saw Kara and Lena talking with Alex and Maggie, digging in your pack, you pulled out the four gifts that you had gotten them, walking over to their small group “Hey guys… I got you guys something” you said, handing them their gifts and watching as they raised an eyebrow at you “What is it?” Kara finally asked, giving you a confused look and you smiled “Pull them” you said, watching as they all did and a decent sized dagger appeared from the sleeves “Those can be the difference between life or death in sticky situations” you said, watching as they looked at them, each of them having different designs and colors depending on each of them “Thank you… We don’t have anything for you though-“ Alex said, getting caught off by you waving a hand “Don’t worry about it, you guys are one of us now” you said, looking at them and shoving your hands in your pockets “I’ll see you guys for dinner tonight, Merry Christmas” you said, heading off towards your spot and hearing them say it back.

xxxxxx

Kara watched as you headed off and grabbed Sid before you rode off into the woods, knowing you were going to your spot then she looked at the others “We should get her something… She’s done so much for us here” she said, looking over when Maggie spoke up “But what could we get her? We don’t know this world very well” she pointed out, which was a good point since they all had only dropped in a month ago and there was still so much more to see “Lets head into town and split up there” Kara suggested, standing up and dusting herself off, all of them heading for their horses before they took off for Valentine.

After a bit, they arrived at Valentine and hopped off their horses before tying them up “Alright, split up and come back here once you’re done” Lena said, looking at the other three before everyone split up, Kara heading for the clothing store and looking around “Can I help ya?” The owner asked, watching as Kara looked at him and gave him a smile “I was just looking, can I see that?” She asked, pointing at the catalogue and thanking him when he pushed it in front of her, looking through it and stopping when she saw this silver necklace with an emerald pendant in the middle of it “How much for this?” She asked, pointing to the necklace and watching as the owner smiled.

Heading out of the store, Kara secured the necklace in the front pocket of her pack before returning to the horses “Did you find anything?” She asked, looking at Lena, who was petting her horse and watching as she turned to face her “I found some boots that could work, hers are a little rundown” Lena said, looking at Kara “You?” She asked, brushing her hair behind her ear and Kara, unable to help herself as she stared at the movement “No, nothing… Boots work” she stuttered out when she realized she had been staring for too long, Lena was going to be the death of her one of these days.

xxxxx

Sitting down by the river and leaning back against a large rock while you let Sid graze behind you, you pulled out the revolver and ran your thumb along the solid black handle before you reached into your pack for your stuff, pulling out a needle that you had stolen from Tilly, she wouldn’t miss it in the time that you needed it for, setting the revolver on your leg before you set to work, sketching out an intricate design on the handle and being sure to add in Sadie’s initials to it, your tongue sticking out slightly as you worked on the design.

xxxxx

After they bought the boots, they headed back to the camp, seeing everyone running around trying to get everything together for the dinner “Need any help?” Kara asked, looking at Mary-Beth, who gave her a smile “Yes please, help me put these up” she said, handing Kara some tinsel to put around the camp “You got it” Kara said, giving her a smile before she headed off to hang some of it on trees and tents around the camp.

“How’s the decorating going?” Lena asked, causing Kara to jump and nearly fall from the tree she had climbed “Well besides the heart attack you just gave me, it’s going fine” she said, looking to make sure no one was looking before she flew down and landed in front of Lena “So sorry” Lena said teasingly, reaching over and pushing the snow that had landed on Kara’s coat off of her “Sure you are… Everything going well with making the dinner?” She asked, looking at Lena and shoving her hands in her pockets, hoping that Lena wouldn’t notice the blush on her face “Oh, I’m in charge of the drinks, we have a fine selection of beer, whiskey, and rum” Lena said, looking at her and about to say something else when Dutch hollered for everyone to meet at his tent.

xxxxx

Getting back to camp, you heard Dutch calling for everyone to meet at his tent, you staring in awe at the camp since you guys never really celebrated anything, but Christmas was one of the ones that Dutch went all out for, hopping off Sid and tying him up before you headed up to the small crowd, standing behind Sadie and Tilly as you listened to what Dutch had to say.

“Now, I know that things have been a little difficult for us this year… But, we’re going to get through all of this together, I don’t want to hear anything about work or any heists or anything like that today… Today is for us to celebrate our family, the old ones-” he said, gesturing to Hosea “The new ones-” gesturing to Kara and them “The young ones-“ gesturing to Jack “And the forever loyal ones-“ gesturing to you, Arthur, and John “Without all of us, we wouldn’t be the family we are… Now, lets dig in and have a good time tonight” he said, causing everyone to cheer before everyone went to grab food and drinks.

After a few hours, you steeled yourself and approached Sadie “Hey, can we take a walk?” You asked, looking at her and watching as her and Mary-Beth shared a look you’d never seen before Sadie set her beer down and nodded, following you a little ways until you found yourselves over by the cliff on the edge of camp “I got you something” you said, digging in your pack and pulling out the revolver you had gotten her “Merry Christmas” you said, handing it to her and watching as she looked the weapon over, running her fingers over the pattern on the handle “How’d you get this pattern?” She asked, able to see it in the moonlight.

“I did it myself” you said, biting your lip and watching as she looked at you in shock “You did this?” She asked, looking at the weapon once more “Yeah, I thought that you’d appreciate the revolver and that you would like your own design on it-“ you rambled, getting interrupted by her engulfing you in a hug “Thank you, this is an amazing gift” she said softly, pulling back and kissing your cheek before she dug in the pocket of the apron she had on, placing something in your hand before she escaped back to the party, you looking at what she had given you and seeing it was a very crudely made bracelet, but you loved it since you knew she made it, knowing it wouldn’t fit your wrist, so you instead went over to Sid and tied it to his saddle, you would forever treasure this.

xxxxx

Kara watched as everyone split up into partners for dancing, watching as Alex and Maggie slow danced together with Dutch and Molly and Arthur and Mary-Beth “Can I have this dance?” She heard someone ask, looking up and seeing Lena standing there in her large black coat and her long black hair pulled back in a braid, her black cowboy hat off “Sure” Kara said, smiling some and taking her hand, letting Lena lead her to the ‘dance floor’ before resting her hands on her waist while Lena’s were wrapped around her neck.

“Are you doing okay?” Kara asked softly after a few silent moments, having not checked up on her in a few days so she wanted to make sure she was doing okay “Yeah, still trying to find out how to get out of here, are you doing okay?” Lena asked, looking up at Kara since she had slight height advantage on her “Yeah, I’m okay” she assured, giving her a small smile before biting her lip “I have something for you” she said, pulling back slightly and taking her hand, pulling her away from the crowd.

“I saw this earlier and… I wanted you to have it” Kara said, digging through the front pocket of her pack and pulling the necklace out, holding it in front of her and watching as Lena stared at it in shock “Kara… It’s beautiful” she said, running her finger along the emerald gem before turning away from her “Put it on me?” She asked, placing her hand on the pendant when Kara put the necklace on her “Thank you, I love it” she said, turning to look at Kara before she dug in her coat pocket and held a small box out to Kara “I got you something too”.

Kara smiled and took the small box, going and sitting down on a log nearby, Lena following suit and sitting down next to her “You didn’t have to get me anything” Kara said, looking at Lena and laughing when she nudged her “Just open the damn box” she chuckled, watching as Kara opened the box and smiled, pulling out the small brooch that was in the box, it being a jeweled butterfly, blue and red “I love it, thank you” she said, smiling at Lena and pinning it to her pack before the two of them looked up at the stars “If there’s one thing that I love here, it’s that you can see the stars” she said, smiling some and tensing up when she felt Lena rest her head on her shoulder “Me too, makes me wish we didn’t live in a big city” she said, snuggling into Kara’s side and smiling when Kara finally wrapped an arm around her “Merry Christmas, Kara” she said softly, smiling as she looked at her “Merry Christmas, Lena” Kara said, giving her a smile before they went back to looking at the stars which seemed to be even brighter that night.

Permanent Taglist: @rianncreates / @natasha-danvers / @youngandwildx7 / @hopingforbarnes

Supergirl Taglist: @aznblossom / @stop-drop-and-drumroll / @worlds-in-words

Lena Taglist: @life2-live / @wlw-in-space / @ianarec / @thelonewriter247 / @kalistory-blog

Supercorp Taglist: @everything201197

Into The Wild West Taglist: @xixxiixx

End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed!! If you’d like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a good day/night!! :)

Requests Open

#lena luthor x kara danvers #lena x kara #supercorp #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler x fem!reader #sadie x reader #lena luthor imagine #sadie adler imagine #dc #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption 2 #Into The Wild West #Christmas Special

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true-blue-megamind · 4 years ago

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Daylight and Dark Ch. 3 - Ares

Photo by Joe Waranont

Some Yuletide silliness and... At last! Enter the villain!

CHAPTER RATING: Teen; FULL FICTION RATING: Explicit. WARNINGS FOR ENTIRE WORK: violence, sex, language, references to prior domestic abuse, and rock n’ roll! CHAPTER WARNINGS: brief description of violence.

There is nothing NSFW in this chapter, but it is a bit long, so I am adding a Click Here to Keep Reading link. You can also read the entire entire fiction HERE.

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There were moments in life when Roxanne couldn't help but think about perspective: about how funny it was that a person could never clearly see the road to their destination until that destination had been reached. She'd felt that way one bitter winter morning, in her office, when she had suddenly realized that she was becoming one of those sentimental hack reporters she'd always hated. She'd felt that way on the long-ago windy spring afternoon when she had finally understood that she would never have feelings for Metro Man, and she'd felt it on the early summer day last year when she'd learned, to her own surprise, she was in love with his former nemesis. Roxanne had that same feeling tonight. Stepping out of the taxi Megamind had insisted on paying for she'd immediately been met by three brainbots, two of which immediately took charge of her small suitcase. Greeting them with pats, she had walked the last block through the biting December chill with her unusual escort bowging at her heels. The little cyborgs had darted away once their charge reached Megamind's invisible doorstep, probably to inform their master of her arrival. Now she stood alone and stared at a cross-stitched sampler, hung incongruously beside what appeared to be a solid wall, which read: "Lair Sweet Lair" in slightly crooked letters. What was he up to?

That September afternoon on the balcony, after the first night they'd made love, had been a turning point in Roxanne and Megamind's relationship. She had expected that, of course, but now that she had arrived at this still-mysterious milestone in her life, something in the back of her mind teased that it had been even more important than she'd realized. They had shared deep, personal sorrows, hidden from all other eyes, and an impenetrable glass wall had been removed. She realized, at this moment, that something undefinable had happened as well. Ever since that day, something had begun building between them, unnoticed and unspoken, creating a channel into which two spirits were poured and mingled. Try though she might, however, that something refused to slide into focus. It was both elating and terrifying, for Roxanne had not fully expected the cozy intensity that she and Megamind had found. How was it possible to feel so relaxed, so at home, around someone that being near him was like snuggling into a favorite sweater, while still feeling so powerfully and passionately attached to that same person that he made you antsy, strangely warm, and a little nervous? How was it even possible to feel simultaneously self-conscious and comfortable in the first place?

The oddity of those emotions was disconcerting enough, but worse still was the fact that Roxanne had realized that she no longer loved solitude, because solitude meant Megamind wasn't around. True, she still enjoyed many of the same quiet hobbies— reading books, binging sci-fi movies, solving crossword puzzles—but now she was only happy if a certain blue alien was beside her, busily sketching design schematics for his latest invention, or pointing out in hilariously descriptive detail why a particular piece of film prop "space tech" wouldn't actually work at all. She had always disdained those couples who seemed to be attached at the hip: the sort that showed up to every party together and skipped any function one of them couldn't attend. Now it seemed she was becoming half of one. Worst of all, she didn't mind. She liked it. She was sublimely happy with it.

What is wrong with me?

She and Megamind had fallen into an easy rhythm as serene and unquestioning as the deepest friendship, yet had retained all the fire and ardor of a new infatuation. A traitorous little voice in her head asked if this was the way people felt before they got married, moved to the suburbs, gained ten pounds, and started daydreaming about babies. She refused to listen, refused to even consider the possibility of leaving chic professionalism for matrimonial doom, but that same little voice reminded her that it wouldn't be so bad as long as it was with Megamind. Despite all her denials, Roxanne had to admit that something new had grown between herself and her favorite hero, inching up, bit by bit, undetected, until suddenly she noticed it was all around her. Small kindnesses, shared moments, camaraderie, and passion had all built into something beautiful, strange, and a little scary.

Which is what brought her to tonight and her current situation, as she stood shivering in the winter evening, looking at that foolish sampler and wondering why the sight of it set alarm bells ringing in her head. Megamind had invited her over, insisting that he had a Christmas gift that couldn't wait for Christmas, and she had not considered the oddity of the date until this moment.

Why now? Why tonight?

That was it. Roxanne's eyes widened with a realization that should have been obvious. Today was December 12th. Exactly eighteen years ago Margaret Ritchi, Roxanne's mother, had taken a turn too quickly, swerved on icy pavement, and ended her life. Although it wasn't unusual for Roxanne to visit her lover in the middle of the week, it was unlike Megamind to ask her over at a specific time, especially when she had just gotten back into town, tired after a business trip, which indicated that he probably had something planned. It would be exactly like him to researched old traffic incidents just so that he could invite her over to cheer her up on the anniversary of her mother's death.

The question was, was he just planning on distracting her from her memories, or did he have something more serious in mind?

"Miss Ritchi," Minion appeared through the hologram wall, less than two feet away from Roxanne. She had to crane her neck up to look into the fishy face set atop his six-foot-tall robotic body. "Miss Ritchi, if you please, could you come inside? He's been watching you on the monitor for ten minutes and he's starting to worry."

"Oh, I… Of course. I'm sorry Minion. I just—"

It was always odd watching a fish smile. "No apologies needed. Just come inside before you freeze."

He ushered her through with the wave of a metallic arm, and Roxanne stopped so suddenly that he nearly crashed into her as he followed.

"Oh, my…"

Garlands. The Evil Lair was strung with garlands of faux evergreen twigs, plastic holly, and red and gold ribbons. Multiple strings of colored lights, hung with no apparent order or plan in mind, blinked, chased, and sparkled in crisscrossing lines until the flashing dials and blinking buttons in the workroom looked like no more than additional decorations. In the middle of the yuletide chaos stood a massive Christmas tree, its top nearly lost in the shadows of the high ceiling. Brainbots hovered and buzzed around it, trimming it in a haphazard fashion that Roxanne suspected explained the random order of the rest of the decorations. Most of the items being hung on the tree were normal— glass balls, silvery snowflakes, diminutive, jolly Santas— but every now and again a brain bot added a shiny bit of wire or a large metal nut. Christmas carols were blaring from the nearby stereo.

"Roxanne! What do you think?" Megamind's happy voice startled her from her contemplation. He jumped down the last two industrial steps leading up to the second floor, his face glowing with good cheer and one arm sweeping out proudly to indicate the scene. Roxanne turned her eyes back to the seasonal décor and the happily buzzing robots. After the initial shock, it really wasn't so bad. In fact, it was almost cute, like the messy decorations of enthusiastic children.

"It's wonderful," she answered, turning back to her lover with a genuine smile.

He beamed at her. "I'm so glad you like it! And look," he added with a sly smile. "We've got rocket-toe!"

"Mistletoe, silly," Roxanne smiled, leaning up to give him a soft kiss.

"Rocket, missile, what does it matter? Missiles have rocket propulsion systems."

"Uh-huh," Roxanne's expression was all wry amusement.

"The early Soviet Vostok rockets were based on the R-7 ICBM," Megamind informed her. "So I can see no reason whatsoever why rocket-toe should be any less—"

"Megamind?"

"Hmmm?"

"It's still called Mistletoe."

"Potato, tomato, potato, cucumber," he answered with a teasing grin.

Roxanne laughed. "Cucumber? Really? Why cucumber?"

"Well, they both grow on vines. Yet tomatoes are technically fruits while cucumbers are vegetables."

Roxanne laughed. "I always thought that was kind of weird. I mean: why?"

"They're gourds."

"What?"

"Cucumbers. They're gourds."

"Megamind, I was talking about the tomatoes-are-fruits thing."

"Ah, well, botanically, they're ripened flower ovaries that contain seeds, and—"

"Sir—" interjected Minion.

"And this will really blow your mind: so are zucchinis!"

"Sir—"

"Think about it: cucumbers and zucchinis, so similar yet so different."

"Sir! Didn't you have something to show Miss Ritchi?"

"Oh! Of course!" his face lit up, and he grabbed Roxanne's hand. "Come up! You'll love this! Wait until you see the dining room!"

"Dining… But you don't have a—"

"We do now! Follow me!"

He pulled her bodily past the command room and back up the metal stairs, her surprise growing with every step. The conference room near the kitchen— which had never seemed to serve much purpose since any meetings involved only Megamind, Minion, and, during the last several months, Roxanne— had, indeed, been transformed into a cozy dining room. Another garland swagged across the doorway, and a dark wood table, set as if in expectation of a festive meal, displayed a centerpiece of holly and ribbons surrounding three crème-colored candles. Beside the industrial stairs leading to the third floor— their banisters also bedecked in Yuletide fashion— the plain bathroom that had once served the offices over the factory had been updated and expanded. It looked as if it belonged in a wealthy grandma's house— if Granny had decided to go Goth. A largely unused, cavernous storage space had been turned into a sitting room. It proudly boasted not only a black leather sofa, matching recliner, and built-in dark wood bookshelves stuffed with second-hand volumes, but also an old-fashioned pot-bellied stove that Roxanne was almost certain was against fire codes. In one corner, a more elegantly decorated Christmas tree— probably Minion's work— stood glittering with white lights and antique glass ornaments.

Even that wasn't the most shocking addition to the new living space, however.

"Megamind, there aren't any external walls here. How on earth did you put in windows?"

"Isn't it great?!" he threw himself into the chair, grabbed a remote control from a side pocket, and aimed it at the window. Instantly the view of Metro City Beach was replaced by a forested mountain range.

"It's absurdly simple, really: just a high-definition plasma monitor that I mounted behind framed glass and connected to video feeds that I've had set up in various locations! That conversation we had last autumn about your apartment windows gave me the idea. Look! If you don't like the view, you just change the scenery with a press of a button!"

He clicked the control a couple of more times, bringing up a snow-covered prairie, a quaint French village, and a tropical reef.

"Minion picked out the last one," he explained. "It also interfaces with the supercomputer, so you can use it for research, calls… Look, the frames retract for a better view!" he demonstrated. "Then you push this button, and... voila!" A holographic keyboard had appeared in midair above the remote. Megamind set the device down, and, to Roxanne's astonishment, began typing. A browser popped up on the "window," and he navigated to a video featuring winter scenery to the accompaniment of a Boston Pop's Christmas album.

"Megamind, that's really amazing," Roxanne managed. "All of this is, really... I mean, you've made it so—" she almost said "homey," but bit back the word and finished with: "comfortable."

"I'm glad to hear you say that!" There was something warm in his voice that both thrilled and frightened her. "Oh! Oh! Oh! But it gets even better!" He leaped up and tugged her out of the room. "Let me show you what we've done upstairs!"

The third floor, once comprised of large executive offices, was where Minion and Megamind slept. Roxanne had been there many times in the past weeks, though she was admittedly usually too preoccupied to give much attention to the décor.

Megamind's room had changed from a blacked-out bachelor pad to a stylishly Gothic bedchamber. The walls were a rich blue. A full suite of carved ebony furniture—bed, wardrobe, nightstand, and chest of drawers— had replaced the previous collection of mismatched thrift finds. The ornate four-poster sported a new satin coverlet set in hues of gray, black, and cobalt, and was piled with silky-looking ash-colored pillows that Roxanne suspected matched the sheets. An impressionist oil painting of a historic street at night— rendered almost entirely in blue shades and black shadows— and a large mirror both hung in antique silver frames. Two lamps and a small chandelier, all wrought iron, completed the picture. It belonged on the cover of Evil Lair and Garden. Or maybe as the set of a photoshoot for Bad Boys Weekly. That would be better. All it lacked was its sexy male occupant lounging on the covers. The thought made Roxanne shiver with delight.

Minion's room reminded her of a garden pool, all greens, browns, and teals. Its bamboo furnishings and simple stone accents gave it a slightly Asian ambiance. The style was completely different from Megamind's Vampire Chic bedroom. Full of clean lines and abstract art, it looked more like a post-modern interior design catalog than a Goth culture magazine.

"He picked everything out himself," Megamind was saying. "You should have seen him, like a kid in a candy store! When I told him I wouldn't invade his privacy by bringing you to his room, he was utterly offended! He insisted that if I didn't show you he would never speak to me again. And that I could expect literally everything he cooked to be smothered in mayonnaise for at least a week!" The blue man made a show of shuddering in horror. Looking around, he added: "I should have let him redecorate years ago."

"I'm curious, why is there no bed?"

"Roxanne, he's a fish. He lives in a fishbowl."

The grin she gave him was three parts knowing and one part sly triumph. "And so he has a bedroom because….?"

Megamind blushed a little under his blue tint. "Well, I mean, you know..."

Cocking one arm to rest on her hip, Roxanne gently poked his chest with her other forefinger. "I always knew you were a big softy deep inside, even when you were a supervillain."

He spluttered. "That isn't… I am not… I was disgustingly horrifying! And..."

She laid a finger over his lips. "I always knew, and I love you for it." Smiling into his emerald eyes, she tilted her face up to give him a long, deep kiss. "Now, before you take me back to your new bedroom, tell me: what's that other door at the end of the hall?"

"That, well," He smiled and rubbed one ear, a nervous gesture she had come to adore. "That's my early Christmas present to you. Come have a look."

He took her hand gently this time, and when he pushed open the third door, Roxanne's mouth fell open.

"Ta-da!" he spun to face her, cloak billowing. His tone was all bold showmanship as he swung his arms wide to encompass their surroundings, but Roxanne knew him well enough to recognize the uneasiness hidden behind the bravado.

She stared around wide-eyed at the vaguely familiar round room. Everything in it had been changed so completely that it took her a moment to recognize the place she had awoken during her final kidnapping. The industrial elevator and second floor had been removed. A spiral staircase now led to a cozy loft and catwalk lined with wooden bookcases. All of the equipment had been moved out, the domed walls and ceiling had been expertly plastered and painted, and, where there had once been a telescope with mechanical shutters, there were now two glass doors leading onto a private balcony overlooking Lake Michigan. It was… perfect. Wonderfully, frighteningly perfect. Her own style—too formal to be modern but too clean to be antique—her favorite colors—sage green, sky blue, and soft ivory with cheerful red accents. The bookshelves—obviously custom-made to fit the curving walls—and few other pieces of furniture were warmly-stained oak that exactly matched the contents of her apartment. There were several empty spaces where she was clearly intended to move in her things. Roxanne knew she should have been thrilled—all the work, care, and expense he'd put into this would be enough to make any one of those silly interns goofy with elation—but all she could feel was cold dread.

"I was thinking we could put your living room suite upstairs to make a reading nook! And look!" He grabbed another remote control from a bracket on the wall. "I've renovated the alligator pit!" With the push of a button, a round trap door—one the reporter remembered with something almost like fondness— opened, and a half-moon desk with a cushy office chair rose on a platform to click into place with the rest of the floor. "I've, ah, also included controls in a hidden wall panel. I know how you lose remotes." He paused expectantly. "So, what do you think?" His smile was starting to look a little forced around the edges.

"Wow, Megamind," she tried not to sound unhappy. His feelings could be so easily crushed, though he excelled at hiding it. "This is…unexpected..."

His face fell slightly, and she searched quickly for something more positive to say.

Deciding on gentle honesty, she added: "I mean, this is exactly the way I would have decorated it myself. I had no idea…"

"Really?" God, she hated the vulnerable hope in his eyes.

"It's beautiful. It is. And sweet. But…"

"But?" he urged uncertainly, nervously fiddling with one of the studs on his black leather gauntlet.

"It just… This… All of this… It's happening so fast." It sounded like a canned response even to her.

True to form, her blue-skinned lover tried to put on a brave face with humor. "Oh, come on, you already sleep here more than you do your own place. This would make everything easier."

"Megamind, this is serious. I'm not sure if I'm ready yet."

"If there's one thing I've learned from all my battles, it's that there are some things you'll never feel ready for, but if you really want it, you just have to jump in anyway."

"Okay, but this? We've never even discussed me moving in, and this is just one step away from being married, and… I just…" she sighed. "I love you. I do, but I've never lived with someone before, and I… I need a little time to think this over." she finished lamely. Seeing his unhappy face, she added: "I'm not necessarily saying no, just...not yet."

"But Roxanne—"

"This is a wonderful gesture, but it's so sudden. I just don't think I can."

"Of course you can. Please, Roxanne, Sweetheart, say yes. Stay here with me," his voice took on an almost pleading tone. "It doesn't have to feel like we're living together. That's why you have a separate bedroom. Whenever you need time to yourself, you know I'll always give it to you."

"Megamind, it's not—"

"This doesn't have to be any more than you want it to be."

"Megamind, please—"

"I'll never invade your privacy unless you want me to." He dropped his voice to a sultry purr. "And when I do, I'll invade it very, very well."

"That isn't what—"

"I promise I'll be the best roommate you've ever had. We share a bathroom," he indicated the door on the left-hand wall. "The plumbing was insufficient for two, but there is a double sink. And I can use the facilities downstairs if you need me to."

"That's really sweet, but it's not the issue. I'm not ready for this."

"Stay anyway."

"I can't"

He crossed his arms. "Can't, or won't?"

"Why are you being so pushy about this?! You never push! And now you're asking me to give up my apartment, change my life… Megamind, that's a huge decision!"

"You're right. I never push. I've never before asked you for anything unless it involved protecting this city. But you know what? I'm asking now. This is the only request I've ever made of you. So please, please do this for me."

"Damn it, Megamind, that is so unfair!" Hot tears stung Roxanne's eyes. "I can't! Not yet! I'm not ready! And it's really low of you to pull that never-asked-for-anything card!"

That hit a nerve. "I am NOT pulling a card, Roxanne! I'm being very, very honest!"

"I didn't mean… I just…"

"I'm offering you everything! My home! My privacy! A place in every aspect of my life! I am offering you—a reporter!—all my secrets! I'm offering my feelings, my time, my vulnerability! I'm pulling out my heart here, Roxanne, pulling it out and laying it at your feet! Don't pay me back by stomping on it!"

There was ringing silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Megamind said at last. "That was… It wasn't fair of me to say..." He drew in a deep breath. "I just really need you to stay here."

Roxanne swiped at her eyes in frustrated, jerky movements.

"I think I'd better go."

"No! Wait!" he grabbed her arm.

"Let go!" She demanded. He did and she stormed toward the door.

"Roxanne!" Megamind dodged around to block her path. "Roxanne, I'm sorry, but I can't let you leave yet. Please listen to me! I know you're upset, but please let me explain!" He braced his back against the door as she tried to push past him. "This isn't just about me wanting you close! This is about your safety!"

"My… Oh, God, now you're starting with the helpless damsel crap?!" She tried to push past him again. "Let me out!"

"I will, Roxanne, as soon as you hear what I have to tell you."

She glared at him. "Let. Me. Out."

"Sweetheart, please..."

"Megamind, I mean it!" she yelled. "You promised me! You said no more real kidnappings! You promised! Let me out!"

The pain in his eyes was like a punch to Roxanne's heart, and that somehow made her temper burn even higher.

"You promised!" she said again, her voice rising nearly to a shriek.

"That's not what this is, Roxanne! If you would just listen I wouldn't have to do this! You think I like feeling like a monster?!"

"Then stop doing it!"

"I can't. Not when you're trying to run away rather than listen. Look, you're angry. I don't pretend to know why, but I accept that you are," His voice was deliberately calm, emotion simmering underneath, but he held his ground, pressing his weight back harder when she scrabbled for the doorknob. She wanted to slap him. "But, Roxanne, I still need you to listen," Megamind lifted one hand like he meant to touch her cheek, but stopped himself, closing his fingers on thin air. "I know you can take care of yourself under normal circumstances, but things have changed. Something's happened, and now… Metrocity isn't safe for you anymore."

That stopped her in her tracks. "Megamind, what are you talking about?"

"I didn't want to bring this up until I could gather some more information." Fishing into his pocket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "I didn't want to worry you, not until I had a plan…" He sighed. Reluctantly, Megamind handed over a folded letter. His lover opened it to reveal oddly formal calligraphy.

My Dear Hesperos,

I have recently undertaken a business proposition in Metro City, which I understand is under your protection. In general, I applaud your intelligent planning and remarkable success in execution, but I wish you to understand that I cannot allow my operations to be jeopardized. Although your newfound love of justice and position as Defender of Metro City are both, to say the least, surprising, I shall not disparage your change in career. However, I believe that you also have seen enough of the world and society through the eyes of a villain to know that law and justice are, too often, completely disparate, and that sometimes an act of villainy is the only truly righteous course. Therefore I am sending this correspondence as both a professional courtesy and as an offer of peace.

Out of respect and remembered fondness for you, I desire to find a mutually beneficial compromise. It is therefore my hope that this communication will achieve two purposes. First, I wish to assure you that, as my plans currently stand, my activities within your city will neither be aimed against the populace at large nor intended to undermine the normal daily operations of the city itself. I will not, however, insult your intellect or my honor by claiming actions will be viewed, by the strictest interpretation of the law, as anything other than criminal. Nonetheless, be assured that it is my intention to complete my business quickly, discreetly, and without any more loss of life than is necessary. Second, I wish to cordially advise you not to attempt to dissuade me. I do not desire harm to come to you, or any dear to you, but I am a gentleman of business and must protect my interests. If you will consent to allow me to complete my task without interference, you will hardly notice my presence. However, if you take it upon yourself to trouble me, I am afraid I shall have to extract a dire price.

I would take no joy in harming a lovely young lady like Miss Ritchi, but accidents do happen, especially to those who oppose me.

Yours in Good Faith,

Ares Coeus

Roxanne felt slightly cold by the time she finished reading. To think that two minutes ago she'd been worried about whether Megamind wanted to become too serious!

But she hadn't become a star reporter by letting fear control her. "Wow, okay. So, this is... Not what I expected." She looked at him. "I'm sorry... I..."

"It's alright, Love. And I understand. Believe me, it's thrown a wrench into my gears, too."

She nodded, forcing her mind to focus as panic tried once again to drown her natural spunk and curiosity. "Ares? Like the god of war?" she managed a wry grin. "Really? That's a little dramatic." Her attempt at a smile smile felt wrong, like it was stretched too tight.

Megamind didn't share her humor. "Yes, Sweetheart, like the Greek god of war."

Something about that name tugged at the depths of her mind. "I think... I think I remember hearing something about him now. Ares escaped Metro City Prison for the Criminally Insane when I was in the fourth grade. No one except you had ever done it before. No one except you has done it since. People were panicking. Some parents wouldn't let their kids go to school." She paused. "That was weird, now that I think about it. They never did that when you escaped."

"I was not just the local supervillain but also a recognized super-genius. My escaping was almost expected, even if they did everything they could to prevent it. That was just another Tuesday. But Ares' escape wasn't part of the show. They couldn't tell themselves it was only because of my extreme brilliance and ingenuity; not when the escapee was another human. That made it more... real."

Roxanne nodded and cleared her throat. "So… Hesperos. Is that you?"

"Yes. It was Ares' name for me. Hesperos Oldwin."

"Oldwin. That doesn't really fit the pattern. All the other names he chose sound Classical."

"You're right. It doesn't. Ares was obsessed with Greek myths, among other things—especially with both his namesake and with the story of the titan Cronos eating his own children, who were then reborn as gods—but the ancient Greeks didn't have a word for 'blue.'"

"Seriously?"

He made a brave attempt at a chuckle. "Clearly they didn't appreciate the finer things, at least where colors were concerned," His weak smile couldn't seem to hold onto his lips, and quickly fell away. He sighed. "Anyway, Ares gave me the name Hesperos Oldwin because it means Morning Star Blue Sky. The blue part is obvious—"

"Hmmm," she agreed

"And then, of course, my escape pod came from the stars and fell from the sky one morning."

"So he was, what? Your friend? Why is he threatening you?"

"I think I was the closest thing to a friend Ares ever had, but that wasn't very close. More like hero worship." At Roxanne's look, he grimaced slightly. "Remember, I was young and… less brilliant."

"But you liked him?"

"'Like' is too strong a word. Ares was… strange, but he enjoyed my company when I was a boy because I was the only one who could keep up with his intellect, even beat him at chess, although I quickly learned that outsmarting him too much led him to abandon me for days on end. He could be… disinterested, but more often he talked to me, sometimes for hours, when he wasn't locked in solitary confinement. I thought he was cool— smooth, sophisticated, well-spoken, smart, tough— and maybe I liked finding someone fairly close to my own age who didn't revile me for a change." He studied his black boots. "Maybe it made me feel special that I was the only other person he bothered naming."

Roxanne gently lifted his chin. "You were lonely. I can't really blame you."

"I can." Megamind sighed. "As I grew older I began to realize that some things about him were just… off. It wasn't until years afterward that I learned 'morning star' is also the meaning of the name Lucifer, as in the devil in most Abrahamic religions. By that time Ares was already gone, but I have the feeling the parallel wasn't an accident. The worst part is, I don't think he meant it as an insult."

"Okay, but how much of that is just a persona? You once said that the difference between a villain and a supervillain is presentation."

"Minion said that," he reminded her.

"It's still true."

"This is different."

"I don't mean he's necessarily a supervillain. You grew up in prison. You're better at analyzing criminal minds than any psychiatrist I've ever heard of. I've seen you figure people out so fast it's almost like mind-reading. I'm guessing Ares isn't his real name, so clearly he's putting on a show. How much is him and how much is just an act?"

"Oh, you don't understand!" Megamind threw up his hands and began pacing. "Ares does not play at evil insanity. He's the real deal! No one in that prison ever crossed him. Convicts, guards, even the warden feared him. Most people, even criminals, have limits… lines they won't cross, but Ares… He had no lines. He would be a perfectly nice and polite man until someone did something he didn't like—anything, a tone of voice, the wrong look—and then, in a flash, he could turn horrible and callous. He would get this cold smile on his face, and you knew sometime soon something truly terrible was going to happen to that person. And it never bothered him. Not even a little."

"You make him sound like a monster."

"He is."

Roxanne stood up and stopped his pacing with a hug. "No, Megamind. He's just a man."

With a sigh, Megamind gently pushed her away. "Roxanne," he looked her in the eye. "I was twelve when Ares was arrested. He was only a few years older than me, not quite a legal adult, but they sent him to a high-security facility for the criminally insane. Do you know why? When he found out his father was cheating on his mother, Ares murdered both the man and his mistress. And not in a crime of passion. He searched, learned, planned, and prepared. He found out about the spa resort his father often took his mistress to— an exclusive and very discreet place outside of town—"

Roxanne was starting to feel a little sick. "Oh my God… The Nelson Case. You knew that guy?"

"Yes. Ares' real name is Eric Nelson."

"I read about that trial for a paper when I was in college. Did he really kill them in the steam room?"

Megamind nodded. "He told me all about it. Bragged. The fake ID, the forged credentials, the Social Security System hack… And then he got a maintenance job at the spa resort. Even though he was rarely around guests, he was always in disguise, even changing his mannerisms and the way he walked… He learned how the steam system worked, created a bypass for the safety measures…." Megamind shuddered. "Roxanne, he literally steam broiled those people alive. And he watched. He stood there and he watched. His own father…" With a shake of his head, Megamind added: "He wasn't even sorry. Ares called himself a 'soldier of righteousness,' and insisted it was the legal system that was corrupt."

"How could he think that?"

"He's crazy. But he's also calculating, cold, and cruel. That makes him dangerous. When his twisted sense of honor and justice is incensed, he is capable of truly horrific things." Megamind sighed again. "After Ares escaped prison, he joined a paramilitary organization, but apparently his philosophies were too... extreme even for them. The last I heard, he was working as an assassin, but he only takes certain jobs that he feels are in line with his off-center views of right and wrong. He's so good at making his murders look like accidents that no one— not even in the criminal underworld— really knows what his kill count is. Even so, the sorts of 'accidents' he causes… Let's just say people don't hire Ares if they want the funeral to be open casket."

"Maybe he's not serious." Even to her, it sounded more like a plea than a suggestion. "What if he's just playing mind games with you?" Roxanne trailed off as she studied her lover's face.

"No. Ares isn't like other villains we've faced… like I was. This isn't something he does for fame, money, petty revenge, or for the simple reason that he's bored out of his skull and needs intellectual stimulation. He doesn't play games, or if he does, he plays for keeps."

It felt as if ice had replaced her spine. "And you really think he'll do it? That he'll find me?"

Green eyes met hers, and something in their depths made the ice expand to fill her stomach.

"Megamind?"

He glanced away again, like he couldn't bear to see her reaction. "Sweetheart, there were..." his throat bobbed.

"There were photographs enclosed with the letter," he answered quietly, as if lowering the tone of his words would somehow lessen their impact. "They were… One was of you standing just inside the glass doors of your balcony—"

"Oh my God." she breathed, moving to collapse into the desk chair.

"One was of you leaving the news station. The last was of you jogging in Hill Top Park." He finally met her gaze again. "Sweetheart… I'm sorry… He has already found you." He knelt beside her, turned the desk chair to face him, and took her hands in his, looking earnestly up at her. "I have to try to stop him. You know I do. I'm the good guy now. But I can't do that and watch your back at the same time. Not if we're apart. That's why I really, really need you to stay here."

Something in her vaguely understood that she should care about that, but it suddenly seemed as if her brain, overwhelmed with terror, had opted to turn itself off. Her heart, in contrast, was screaming and she felt like she might be physically ill. This, Roxanne decided distantly, must be what a panic attack felt like.

"What about… my job?"

"Telecommute."

Her laugh sounded bitter and wild in her own ears. "I'm an on-scene correspondent. I can't telecommute."

"Then take some time off," he offered gently. "We'll talk to the station, or have the officials contact them. This is little different from a witness protection program. And it's only temporary. They'll have to understand."

"And if they don't?"

"I'll make them."

Roxanne buried her face in her palms. She heard the tread of leather boots, the sighing swish of a cape, and deft hands began massaging her shoulders. Megamind's voice spoke gently behind her.

"Roxanne. Listen to me. It will be alright. Everything will be alright. We are going to get through this. He hasn't found this place, and I've made some alterations to ensure it stays that way."

"How do you know he hasn't found your hideout?" she asked between her fingers. "You can't possibly know that."

"He hasn't. Trust me. His letter was sent to my fan mail post box. Ares likes keeping people off balance, making them feel he has the upper hand. If he had known where my Lair was, he would have found a way to deliver it directly here. He didn't, which means we're safe. I've been working on some enhancements for a while, but Minion and I have put in a lot of hours to finish them quickly. This entire building is now outfitted with a cloaking shield: a hard light hologram similar to what the holowatch produces. I took it down briefly when I saw you approach, and put it back up once you came in. Now all anyone will see is an empty, condemned building. No dome, no signs of life, nothing."

Turning the chair to face him, she suddenly threw her arms around Megamind and held him close. He knelt to let her hide her face against his neck. Like a child awakened from a bad dream, Roxanne buried herself in his warmth and breathed in the comfort of his scent.

"I really am sorry," her words were muffled by his skin. "I'm so very sorry."

He ran gentle hands up and down her arms. "I am too."

"You shouldn't be."

"If you weren't with me, this never would have happened."

"No. People assumed I dated Metro Man, and they would have assumed the same about us."

"I should have realized sooner. I should have done better."

"You're doing your best."

"We both are."

"I'm so sorry I yelled at you."

"You didn't know."

The moment of weakness passed, and Roxanne gathered herself, gluing pieces of broken confidence back together with spunky determination and brave humor.

"Yeah, well, you know, you could have told me this sooner and saved us the trouble of arguing," she jibed halfheartedly, her crooked smile appearing through tears.

His answering grin was weak, and a little sad. "I didn't want to have to tell you. Not now, not tonight. And I didn't want to ruin your holidays." His shoulders drooped slightly. "Tonight was supposed to be about cheering you up. I wanted to make you happy, not terrify the living daylights out of you."

"But I thought you liked terrifying me. Why else did you kidnap me all the time?"

"How else could I spend time with you? Besides, you were never truly scared of me. Annoyed, yes. Sometimes even angry, but never scared." He wrapped her in an embrace. "And I happen to think you're extremely sexy when you're angry."

That drew a tearful laugh from Roxanne. "Right, because, you know, that's one I've never heard before." Sighing, she looked back at her new bedroom. "Thank you for everything you've done, Megamind. If it's okay, I'll enlist the brainbots' help in moving my things tomorrow."

"I'll be glad to have them give you a hand, but we should do it late at night. That's when Ares… works. He'll be less likely to be watching your apartment."

They were silent for a moment.

"Well," Roxanne's voice held a tone of determined calm. "At least we have a plan."

He smiled. "We have a plan."

There was another pause.

"So..." casting around for something to say, Roxanne landed on: "how long has Ares been in Metro City, and what do we know so far?"

"Not much. I got the letter last Thursday, but Ares has been laying low. I've had brainbots guarding you twenty-four-seven."

"I thought I saw more of them around than usual. Wait," she looked around her room with new admiration. "You managed to get all of this pulled together in six days? That's... Darling, that's beyond impressive! That's amazing!"

"Five days, six hours, and fifty-three minutes, to be precise," Megamind answered, standing up and managing another gray smile. "Incredibly Handsome Genius, remember? You'd be surprised what can be done with a little determination, a large budget, and thousands of tireless laborers."

"Large budget?"

"I have contracts with various companies for a cut of the profits from all Megamind merchandise sold, among other things."

"Seriously? That's not standard hero procedure, is it?"

"Being a good guy doesn't exactly pay well."

"Wayne never did that."

"Ha. Metro Man was adopted by a multi-billionaire. He has a trust fund big enough to support an entire third-world country, not to mention that all of his abilities are inborn. I, on the other hand, have supplies to buy, bills to pay, evil inventions to construct..."

"I thought they weren't evil any more?"

"Well, evil only to evildoers." His burgeoning grin faltered. "Roxanne, be honest, are you angry at me? For not telling you sooner? I know you always hated it when Metro Man treated you like a powerless victim, and I want you to know that isn't why I didn't tell you. I just wanted the brainbots to do a little reconnocense first. And, as I said, I wanted you to enjoy the holiday season before I threw this at you."

Drawing close to him, she cupped his cheek and looked sincerely into his face. "No. I'm not angry. Not now that I understand." She hugged him once more. "But from now on I need you to trust me enough to just tell me things. I can't be prepared if I don't know."

"It's a deal."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She pulled away enough to look into his eyes. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

He kissed her cheek. "I suppose it's possible I could have handled it a little better."

She finally managed a real grin. "Maybe a little." She held her hands a foot apart. "Like this much."

"Oh, come on, not that much." He moved her arms closer until her palms were only a couple of inches apart. "Maybe that much."

"This much," she spread her hands even wider.

His mouth quirked. "Now you're just being unreasonable."

Despite everything, they both laughed, releasing the tension in the air.

"I'm glad I'm here," Roxanne said.

"Me too." He held her, kissed her brow. "You'll be happy here, Sweetheart. I'll do everything I can… I want this to be comfortable, and good… You like having your own space, and that's fine, but I want you to know that this is your home, too. Always."

She felt herself smile, although the expression lacked its usual confident strength. He wasn't wrong. Sometimes Roxanne felt she practically lived in his hideout already. Well, the past few weeks had been an exception. While the blue hero had dealt with a plot by the Doom Syndicate and the usual holiday season uptick in thefts, Roxanne had been forced to travel, first covering a rare blizzard in the Upper Penninsula, then a meeting of the newly formed Michigan State Disability Caucus in Lansing, and finally attempts by members of the state legislature to conceal certain business interest's tax frauds. She and her lover had only been able to steal occasional dates during her brief returns home, and he had spent one night in a Lansing hotel with her. Even when life wasn't so busy, however, the reporter and her lover rarely spent the night at her apartment anymore. Not since Ms. Farley, a sweet but nosy elderly woman who lived next door, had caught Roxanne out in the hall one evening and invited her over for what had turned out the be the most awkwardly embarrassing cup of tea in all history.

"Listen, Dear," the old lady had said amicably after a few minutes of small talk. "Between you, me, and the lamppost, I just want to tell you that I am really very happy you and our hero have such a healthy and loving relationship, but— I really hate to bring it up— but maybe three in the morning is a little late for… nocturnal activities? And… well… you might just ask him to be a little more circumspect about his language? It's only that Len Paszek mentioned that his little boy asked last week what all those funny words the Defender kept shouting meant…"

Megamind had blushed fuchsia when she'd told him, and admitted that one of his new friends on the police force had laughingly informed him they had received no fewer than three noise complaints from other tenants in Roxanne's building.

"He seemed to think I needed to be congratulated?" the blue man had said uncertainly. "He kept slapping my back and saying I must be doing something right?"

Roxanne had felt her own cheeks burning. "I… um… yeah, that's a… pretty normal human male bonding ritual…"

"Humans are strange," Megamind had informed her.

They'd spent almost every night at the Lair ever since.

"Sir, Code C and C," Minion's voice crackled from the vicinity of his master's left hand, disrupting Roxanne's thoughts.

"Code what?" Megamind asked into his wrist.

"Cookies and cocoa!" Minion explained. "Come and get it while it's—No no no! That is not a toy! Drop it! Drop it right now!"

A sound suspiciously like breaking china echoed through the watch's speaker.

Megamind and Roxanne looked at each other and laughed again. It felt good. "I suppose we had better go downstairs while the cookies are still edible," the blue hero said. "You don't mind, do you, Roxanne? It's just that— well, you know— Minion has planned out this entire evening, and it really means a lot to him…" he trailed off as Roxanne gave him his favorite knowing smile.

"Thank you and Minion both for planning tonight. Of course I want to be a part of it." She sighed, looking down one more time at the disturbing letter. "Let's just take a step back. We can deal with this tomorrow. Besides," she brightened slightly. "I wouldn't miss Minion's home baking for anything."

Megamind chuckled again. "Be sure to tell him that." With a dramatic flourish, he swept his cloak behind one shoulder and offered her his arm. "Now, Miss Ritchi," he purred in that tone that always melted her down to her toes. "If you'll come with me, please, I fully intend to spend the next several hours cuddling by the stove, if only I could find a beautiful, intelligent woman to cuddle with."

A small, very grown-up and professional part of Roxanne hated that Megamind always knew how to make her blush. The rest of her, however, adored it.

"I think I can oblige," she answered, linking her arm through his.

He returned her smile and led her downstairs.

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krispydefendorpolice · 5 years ago

Text

The Demon’s Bride (6)

Yikes, anyone else having trouble posting new posts on tumblr. When I went to write this up literally the only option I got was a text post. Did formatting change on the apps? *shrugs* oh well. Time for the next chapter.

So it’s been a long while since my last update. Work drags me down and I didn’t have the energy to commit to writing the ideas running through my head. (Look forward to more of my Drabble ficlets because of that.).

A couple weeks (?) ago I asked for a vote and I got 2 out of 2 for Demon’s Bride so here’s the next chapter. Enjoy.

Beginning Previous Next Masterpost

————————————

After Damian dropped Marinette off at the hotel she went inside and found a few of her classmates waiting in the lobby.

Nino was the first to see her. Standing up he called out, “Dude. Where have you been? We were so worried.”

Nino, Alix, Kim, and Max crowded around her as she entered.

“Sorry guys. My phone died on me,” holding up the dead phone for them to see, “so I couldn’t call for a ride or taxi. And I thought the hotel was reasonably close enough to walk. Forgot to account for Gotham’s Crime life though.” She added tapping her head with a closed fist to indicate the knucklehead move.

“You’re alright?” Nino asked.

Marinette hearing the unvoiced question nodded. “Fine. I had the criminal handled before the Bat and his brood showed up. Them actually getting there was what took so long.”

“Here Max,” Marinette said taking the glasses from her purse and handing them to the young man. “I also gave him some sugar cubes before and after our trip so don’t let him guilt you into believing I’m starving him either.”

“He tries it every time,” Max said replacing his frames with the pair Marinette handed him. A small ball of light briefly manifested before the small horse Kwamii hid in Max’s open bag.

“So what happened with Bustier after I left,” Marinette asked Nino as the group headed towards the elevator to take them to their rooms. Alix, Kim and Max fell back a step to follow behind the other two.

Nino pressed the call button before answering. “We told her you were still in the restroom before leaving the restaurant and again after boarding we told her you weren’t on. Markov even did a video recording of her reactions as well as a sweep of the bus to prove you weren’t on when we told her.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. Ms. Bustier had ignored all that from her friends and left her behind anyways?

“She’s even worse here than at home.” Alix voiced what they were all thinking.

“Did you...?” Marinette trailed off.

“Report filled out, sent in and as of five minutes ago reviewed and filed by the Commandant. He’s waiting for a follow up from you.”

Alix and Marinette got off when the elevator stopped. The boys would go to the floor above where their rooms were. “Thanks guys. I’ll do my check in before going to sleep and let you guys know about any changes in the morning. Do we still have a free day?”

“We haven’t heard anything about it changing but Juleka sent a text a few minutes ago that she thinks something might come up for the fashion district based on what she’s heard so far?” Max said.

Marinette whined to herself, “She would choose something I like to try and spoil. Night guys.”

The doors closed on their calls while Marinette and Alix walked to their shared room and opened the door.

Marinette used the washroom to shower first since she had just been fighting an Akuma. While Alix was taking her turn, Marinette opened her now charged phone and started a video call.

“Bonjour Commandant,” she greeted when the call was answered and an older Chinese man appeared on the screen.

“Bonjour Marinette. The team and I expected your check in almost an hour ago and the others on the trip with you hadn’t heard anything.”

Marinette shrugged one shoulder. “My phones battery was already low and Voyage travel tends to be a coin toss on how it affects electronics. When I got back to the restaurant my phone was dead and I had to walk to the hotel.”

“And it took over an hour to get there?”

“Well no,” Marinette admitted. “I ran into one of Gotham’s criminals and had that handled easily,” she said before the Commandant interrupted, “but the Bat-clan showed up and... I ran into an old friend and we took a moment to catch up.”

“You ran into an old friend? After the Bats showed up? This friend wouldn’t happen to be a Bat would they?”

Marinette shrugged but smiled so that the man knew he got it right.

“And you won’t say anything because it could compromise identities.” The Commandant finished for her. “Alright, does it change any plans for this week?”

Marinette paused thoughtfully reviewing what would be happening that week. “I don’t think so. I know him but he doesn’t know about me being LadyBug.”

She smiled brightly, “actually I would love to keep that a secret for now and surprise him with it at the meeting. Oh! Can we get Viperion, Ryuko and Abeille to come to the meeting as well? We can get them to come across using Voyage so travel won’t be a problem.”

“Do they know this old friend?”

“Yes. Well, Viperion, Ryuko and Jiuweihu do.”

“Ah,” he said with understanding at the mention of the others who knew the friend and sighed. “How likely am I to have a revolt if I don’t somehow get this approved?”

Marinette smiled mischievously. “Oh very likely. Viperion will let you know from the start what he thinks about missing this chance but it will be Ryuko you will need to watch out for.”

The Commandant shook his head tiredly. He remembered the last time Ryuko had objected to something and the entire team had faced her wrath over it. “I will do what I can. As for the trip, I would like the team to stay together in pairs or as a small group on the class free days and with the class on the group days. There’s no need to push even your luck in Gotham with the way that the teacher is likely to neglect to take your safety into consideration.”

“Bien Sûr. We’ll be on our best behaviors,” she gave him a cheeky grin and saluted before ending the call.

“You know, if anyone had told me you were like this when we first met all those years ago I would have called them crazy,” Alix commented as she left the bathroom, towel drying her wet hair.

“That’s because you only knew Marinette. Mari is only for family and the team,” Marinette explained as she sat on her bed and pulled out her sketchbook.

Alix tossed the damp towel in the bathroom before pulling out a couple cookies and some carrots from the hotels mini fridge they had stocked that afternoon when they first arrived.

After placing them on the rooms small table two small Kwamii’s flew from their hiding places, one from Marinette’s purse and one from the suitcases in the corner where the girls kept their things.

“So what did the Commandant have to say,” Alix asked as she jumped onto her bed.

“He wants us to stay in the group as much as possible during the trip. Pairs at the very least. And he told me to stay out of trouble. Not in those exact words but the intent was clear.”

“Now why he would think that LadyBug would need orders to stay out of trouble is beyond me,” Alix joked.

Marinette glared at her before turning it on the Kwamii’s where they laughed on the table.

“No respect. I get no respect,” she mumbled humorously before turning the book to Alix. “What do you think?”

“It looks like a traffic light,” Alix observed the costume. “I’ve never seen you use that color combination together.”

“It’s the characteristic colors of the Robin uniform. I don’t know why they’ve chosen those colors but every Robin used them in some variation.” Marinette went back to sketching and adding tweaks to the costume.

“So Robin’s the childhood friend?” Alix asked.

Marinette froze.

She didn’t hear Alix call her name two more times. It wasn’t until a hand in her face had her reacting (and boy would she have to apologize for nearly dislocating Alex’s shoulder for her concern).

“Ouch,” Alix mumbled rubbing her arm. “You could have just said I need to keep it quiet,” she added as she stood up from the bed.

“Sorry Alix,” Marinette apologized.

“Nah, this’s my fault,” she gestured to her arm, “I know better than to startle you or the others on Alpha team. You okay?” She asked. “You kind of spaced out on me.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said. She laughed at Alix’s disbelieving look. She cuddled Tikki and Fluff who had come to her after finishing their foods. “I will be fine,” she corrected herself. “I’m just so used to keeping identities a secret and I’m not sure how Da... How my friend would feel if his identity was outed without his knowledge. We sort of have plans to see each other during the class free days so you’ll probably see him without the mask.”

“I can get that,” Alix said remembering when the team was in the dark about each other’s identities just a year ago. It had been an added stress on top of fighting for them to worry about protecting a secret with no end in sight. If given a choice she would definitely choose what they had today over what they’d had before. She mimed zipping her lips and locking it with an imaginary key that she threw over her shoulder.

“So he’s a hero too?”

Marinette shrugged. “I think so of course but most of the research I did before the trip indicated that the city and the heroes’ themselves mostly consider them to be vigilantes though.”

“Is there a difference?” Alix asked.

Shrugging, Marinette closed her notebook and turned off the light. “Isn’t it an “In the eyes of the beholder” kind of thing. A “your hero is my villian and my vigilante is your hero” thing, at times.”

“Do you trust him?” Alix asked.

“With my life,” Marinette answered immediately. “I’m not gonna keep LadyBug a secret forever. Just timing the reveal for the best effect,” she pointed out.

Alix snorted, “please let me be there when you do. I want to see the explosion on Commandant’s face.”

Marinette laughed with Alix as night finally settled down around them.

———————��————

No recommendations this week but go check out @bluerosette23 Daminette masterlists if this interested you.

@mellownieice @mystery-5-5 @indecisive-mess-named-me You three sent me votes or a really sweet ask that I appreciate so you get the first tags this post.

@mindfulmagics @ozmav @bluerosette23 @vivilakitty @actualaster @multifandomscribette @mochinek0 @inevitableenquere @zebrabaker @poshplumcot @tog84 @luciferge @sonif50 @ravennightingaleandavatempus @northernbluetongue @actual-human-disaster @clumsy-owl-4178 @aarushi-03 @g-arya @moonyloonyx @fertileleaf @shreky-boi @thanks-captain-obvious @panda3506 @hinata3487 @thequestionablyhuman @dontgiveaflyinflip @dast218 @chocolatecatstheron @asianfrustration13 @slytherinsheashire @weird-pale-blonde-person @yin-390 @mycupisbroken @vixen-uchiha @kuroko26 @autisticlinx @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mariae2900 @zalladane @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @tbehartoo @novicevoice @violatiger8 @thebookish3lf @fandomkitty8 @redscarlet95 @gingersnapnoir @chewbaccaatemythoughts

That’s the end of the tag list folks. I will tag you first if you send me an ask or vote for the next weeks update. What will it be?

Demon’s Bride or Miraculous Future?

#daminette #maribat #marinette x damian #Betrothed AU #The Demon’s Bride #DLDR #dead dove don’t eat

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shotsbyshae · 5 years ago

Text

Power Over Me (Part 2)

Warnings: 18+ Smut, Angst

Words: 3k

Pairing: Loki x Witch!Reader

Summary: It’s been three months since you started feeling this ache inside - like something’s missing - it happens at least once everyday. You’re not sure what’s causing it or why the stranger you keep seeing causes it instantaneously.

Everything I hold dear resides in those eyes.

It has been nearly three months – three months since the first time you felt the ache – you feel it at some point every day. The pain only lasts for a few moments, but it serves as a reminder to you that something – or someone – is missing. Sometimes it’s when you’re sparring with Sam, others it’s halfway through a jog, then occasionally it will hit as soon as you step on the elevator in the morning. Today is different though, today it happens when you see him.

You tend to frequent the farmer’s market on Saturday mornings. Old man Earl has the best Strawberries around, and he always saves the biggest ones for you. He’s a sweet man who lost his wife a couple years back and you look forward to your early morning chats with him. You make your way over to Earl’s table and notice a man – tall and lean – already standing there conversing with the him. He has a runner’s build, with short blonde hair, and is dressed in a black track suit. You reach into your pocket and pull out the small wad of cash which you know has at least five extra dollars folded inside for Earl. As he sees you approaching, the old man pulls a basket of out from under the table, sliding it across to you and you pass him the money with a smile, not wanting to interrupt his conversation with the stranger.

The runner watches the scene unfold and smirks, “Oh, what’s this?”

“She’s special,” Earl remarks with a warm smile to you.

You take the basket as you look up at the man with sharp features and piercing blue eyes. He stares down at you for a moment and you can’t help but think of how attractive he is.

“I bet she is,” the corners of his lips turn up in a smile and sadness washes over you momentarily – that feeling coming back – something is missing.

“Thank you, Earl,” you give the old man a smile before you glance back up at the stranger once more. “He has the best strawberries, trust me.”

The man’s blue eyes follow you as you walk away, the smile on his face falling as he watches you leave. He’d only changed his hair as part of his disguise, but he knows you should have recognized him.

***

You’re sitting at your desk in your room at the compound – drawing – when there’s a small knock on the open bedroom door. You glance up as you lay the colored pencil down on the paper to see Steve leaning against your doorframe.

“I was thinking about going for lunch,” he says timidly. “Do you want to come?”

“Sure,” you smile before standing up and moving toward him, leaning up to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Where we going?”

“Wherever you want,” Rogers replies, the sadness in his eyes present as he notices the blue flower you were sketching, along with several other similar ones scattered about the surface of your desk.

***

Later as you’re jogging, it’s almost as if you sense his presence. It’s an oddly satisfying chill which courses through your veins. He doesn’t see you, but you recognize those sharp features from the farmer’s market – even behind the Wayfarer sunglasses – and you feel that pain again. For a moment you wonder if he’s following you, but then you chalk it up to paranoia. Maybe it’s chance or kismet or whatever shit it is Charlie talks about or – he’s following you.

You pull your phone from your jacket pocket as you slow from a jog to a fast-paced walk and punch a number into the device before placing it to your ear. Calling the one person who is aware of the aching pain in your chest.

“Hey you,” the girl on the other end answers cheerfully.

“It’s happened twice today,” you skip the pleasantries.

“Oh,” she responds slightly alarmed, “how bad?”

“Like a twelve bad,” you glance back over your shoulder at where the stranger was seated on the park bench, but he’s not there anymore. You glance around trying to find him again, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “Where are you?”

“North Dakota,” Charlie responds. “Do you want me to come?”

“No,” you say sweetly, “that’s alright.”

“Are you –” There’s a hesitation on the other end of the line.

“I’m not using my dark magic if that’s your question.”

“I just worry about you.”

“I know,” you glance around again, looking for the mysterious man. “I need to go. I’ll call you later.”

***

You make your way through the compound quietly – one destination in mind – knowing you can’t stay cooped up in this place all evening. Too much time on your hands gives you too much time to think and you don’t want to think – you don’t even want to feel right now.

“Where you going?” Bucky questions from the kitchen island.

“Out.” He and Sam share look of concern as you move closer to them.

“Want some company?” The soldier offers.

“Probably not a good idea,” you remark, winking at Parker who sits on one of the barstools. You walk over and place your hand on Barnes’ shoulder, lowering you tone just a tad – sultry almost, “You remember what happened the last time we went out.” You smirk before leaving, hearing Parker choke on the sandwich he’s eating.

“Do I even want to know?” Peter finally questions the dark-haired man as Sam begins to laugh.

“They went to jail,” Wilson claps his hand onto Barnes’ shoulder. “Steve had to bail them out.”

***

Peter sees the light on in your room, thinking your back from the bar awful early, he decides to stop in to check on you and is surprised to find Steve sitting at your desk.

“Sorry,” Parker apologizes, “I thought you were her.”

“It’s okay,” Steve holds up one of the drawings from your desk, “Does this mean anything to you?”

The young man’s eyebrows shoot up in recognition and his voice drops, “Oh no.”

“What is it Peter?”

“That’s the flowers Loki would send her,” Peter replies. “Do you think she remembers?”

“Has she said anything to you?” Rogers looks at him, the worry apparent on his face.

Parker shakes his head, “No, sometimes she gets this real sad look on her face though.”

“I know, I’ve seen it too.”

“I don’t like lying to her,” Peter states, folding his arms across his chest.

“It’s for the best.”

***

You’ve been at the bar about half an hour when the familiar chill overcomes you again and you look around quickly, instantly spotting the handsome man from earlier in the day sitting at the bar. He glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours and you can see the hint of sorrow – even from across the room. The way he looks at you, it’s as if he knows you, like he’s waiting for you to acknowledge him. You move slowly across the crowded bar until you can sit on the barstool next to him, never breaking eye contact with him.

“I know you,” you look at him curiously. “I can feel it – like I’m drawn to you – but I don’t remember you.”

“Someone’s been in your mind I’m afraid,” a look of deep concern crosses his features. “I suppose I would be the only memory they would erase.”

“Is that why you've been following me around?” Your question surprises him. He wasn’t aware you'd picked up on that.

The corner of his mouth turns up in a half-cocked grin, “Always so perceptive, little witch.”

“You’re not very good at it,” your reply is tinged with sarcasm. “The farmer’s market, the park, and then here. Why?”

Loki watches you for a moment, unsure why he didn’t leave after this morning at the farmer’s market. He’s accustomed to being alone, it shouldn’t even phase him by now, but he's missed you terribly the last few months. The little smile you have after your first few sips of coffee in the morning, how you twirl your hair – or his – around your finger when your sleepy, he’s even missed your atrocious taste in movies.

“I couldn’t leave,” his words are barely above a whisper.

You watch him and contemplate your next words, knowing you shouldn’t use magic for this, but you need answers. Carefully you reach for his hand, “May I?” The man hesitates, drawing back from your grasp, so you continue quietly, “Help show me who we were, so I know – please.”

He slowly reaches for your hand, “There’s a reason they made you forget.”

Taking his hand in yours, you squeeze it tightly, “And there’s a reason I feel this emptiness inside – this ache.”

You close your eyes as Loki's memories of the two of you flash through your mind like scenes from a movie, from him pushing you off Stark Tower, you feeding on his life force, to training with you, and traveling with you. All the little looks, lingering touches, smiles, and laughter. All the memories come flooding back, overwhelming you, and you jerk your eyes open to stare at the blue-eyed man in front of you.

“Loki,” his name falls from your lips in recognition as your eyes brim with tears.

“Yes,” the smile on his face genuine at your happiness to see him. You scramble from the barstool, grabbing his face in your hands. A small laugh escapes him as he rests his hands on your waist, “Hi.”

You press your lips to his hungrily, slipping your tongue further into his mouth, the ache inside you diminishing. His right hand moves to the back of your head, gripping you tightly in place as he pushes back – his mouth fighting for control over yours. The kiss is primal – predatory – in the vast realm of darkness, you’re his light and he won’t let you go again. He grips your waist tighter with his other hand as he pulls you flush against him. The kiss you initiated leaves you breathless as the god asserts his dominance. When you finally pull back slowly, you run your hand up the nape of his neck, fingernails scraping through the short dirty blonde hair, “This is new.”

“Just a ruse,” he smirks, his arms tightening around you. “Less conspicuous this way. Do you not like it?”

“I do,” you reply with a smile before kissing his lips once more. “Let’s get out of here.”

Loki leans into your ear as he whispers, “You do know I can make us invisible to everyone in this establishment.”

“Loki,” you say his name scandalously.

He pulls his head back with a boyish grin, “I was merely joking.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t,” he replies as you take him by the hand.

“Come on,” you tug him off the barstool, “maybe next time.”

***

The next morning the sound of your boot heels on the tile floor echo throughout the compound as you storm down the corridor. Peter and Bucky cease their sparring match upon hearing the glass door to the gym jerk open.

“Where is he?” Your words are hard – cold.

Sam wipes the sweat from his brow, sharing a quick look of uneasiness with Bucky before he answers you, “His office.”

You release the door and they watch through the glass partition as you continue angrily down the hall. Wilson turns back to Barnes, “She knows.”

The dark-haired man gives a small nod of acknowledgement then places a hand on Peter’s shoulder to stop him as the young man starts toward the door, pulling his gloves from his hand.

“But she’s –" Peter glances between Barnes and Wilson, his features fraught with worry.

“This is between them pal,” Bucky’s voice is calm – knowing.

***

You bust through the door to his office and Steve pushes his chair back from the desk – startled a bit. He begins to speak, but you cut him off sharply, “How could you?”

Rogers entire demeanor changes as he realizes you know. Instead of defensive like you’d imagined, his expression is almost sympathetic, “I wanted to tell you –”

“What I did was for Peggy’s happiness,” you clench your jaw. “I didn’t erase your fucking memories of her. My mind Steve – you literally messed with my mind and made me forget him and what you did.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Steve responds quietly.

“Don’t bull shit me Rogers,” you practically scream at him, storming toward the desk. “You’re the captain, you give the orders around here. Never thought that would mean such an invasion of privacy, you self-righteous son of a bitch.”

The man slams his hands against the desk as he stands up, the desk chair flying out behind him, “This wasn’t me, dammit.”

You glare at him defiantly, “Show me then.”

“I can’t,” the response is quick.

“The hell you can’t,” you seethe through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me force it out of you.”

Steve holds your glare for a moment before he shakes his head in defeat, offering his hand to you. You grab it aggressively, closing your eyes tightly. You immediately see Steve standing in his office with Fury.

“Absolutely not,” Steve’s voice is defiant.

“Funny,” the director’s tone is sarcastic. “I don’t remember asking you.”

“You can’t just wipe her mind.”

“Strange said if she keeps using her dark magic, we’ll lose her. You know as well as I do if Loki has his hands on that kind of power –”

“She’s stronger than that,” Steve counters with a shake of his head.

“She’s in love with him,” Fury’s voice is cold. “That’s on you.”

“I came back for her,” he snaps at the man in front of him.

“Not soon enough apparently,” the man quips.

“Don’t you blame me for this,” the anger apparent on Rogers’ face as he takes a menacing step towards the director. “You ordered me to bring Natasha back.”

“And you failed,” Fury spits back. “I lost Romanoff and Stark; I won’t lose her too – we can’t afford it.”

“I already have,” the captain states before he turns to walk away.

You pull your hand away quickly, stepping away from the desk, a nauseous feeling overcoming you, ��You went back for Nat, not Peggy.” He gives you a small nod before glancing down at the desk and you continue, “Why – why – didn’t you tell me?”

Steve cuts his eyes up at you in slight annoyance, “I tried. You wouldn’t speak to me.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your heart races, feeling as if the world is crashing around you; as if everything you’ve been led to believe about Steve was a lie. You remember him practically begging you to talk to him that day and you shutting him out. You push your feelings down, “Call Fury – I want a word with him.”

***

“That’s my terms,” you stand a little taller, shoulders back as you fold your arms across your chest.

“And if I say no?” Fury questions you with a tilt of his head.

“Then consider me retired as well,” Steve states from the opposite side of the table and you look at him in surprise.

“What is this?” Fury looks over at the man. “You trust her boyfriend now?”

“I think she knows him better than any of us at this point,” Rogers replies, glancing up at you. “And I trust her.”

Fury sighs shaking his head indignantly, “If this backfires, it’s both your asses.”

***

You and Loki climb out of the car in front of the compound. The god of mischief looking around at the newly renovated area.

“Are you sure about this?” He questions you. “They lied to you. Wiped your memories –”

“And you pushed me off a building,” you comment, taking him by the hand with a smirk. “Now look at us." The god gives you an unimpressed look as you intertwine your fingers with his and you continue, “That goodness in me, that you like so much, it stems from here – this family. I need them and I need you.”

Loki smiles at your words, placing a kiss on your temple, “Well, when you put it like that – how can I refuse?”

***

“So, what’s the arrangement again?” Sam questions, placing his hands on his hips as he and Bucky look through the glass partition to see you, Steve, and Loki standing outside on the grass.

“Fury pardoned Loki, leaving him under her care, so long as she doesn’t use any dark magic.”

“Voodoo,” Sam corrects him.

“Does that mean they’re both staying here?” Peter asks as he approaches the conversation.

“Yes,” Bucky replies, turning to look at the youngest member of the team, “they’re both staying.”

“Well, this is going to be awkward,” Sam comments as they watch Loki and Steve slowly shake hands.

***

“He came back for you,” Charlie’s smiling face looks at you through your laptop screen in your room at the compound.

“So did Steve,” you furrow your brow at her from your desk chair. “I don’t know what to think about that.”

“The ache you were feeling,” she begins. “It’s gone now right?” You give her a slight nod of your head and she smiles warmly at you, “Sweetie, stop thinking. You’ve been feeling it all along. This whole time you’ve been with Steve and longing for someone else – doesn’t that tell you everything?”

You glance down, “I guess.”

Charlie sighs, “I’ve not exactly been in this situation before, so I don’t really have the best advice, unless they’re open to being polyamorous.”

You give her an unamused look, “Really?”

“Just saying,” the red head shrugs her shoulders, “God of mischief, Star Spangled Man, and the Mistress of Darkness, I’m pretty sure the porno writes itself.”

“I’m going to go now,” you shake your head. “I have training.”

“Be sure to stretch,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. “I can send you some great yoga poses.”

You give her a quick wave before you close your laptop, rolling your eyes. You make your way out of your room and down the hall only to be stopped as Loki exits his room.

“Hi,” he smirks. “Where are you headed?”

“Training with Peter,” you respond as he closes his door behind him.

“Mind if I join?” He questions as he follows you to the elevator.

You push the button, and glance up at him with a smile, “Of course not.”

Loki glances back down the hallway to see if anyone is around before he slips an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he presses his lips to yours. His mouth hot against yours and for a moment you forget about your training, his tongue pressing against yours determinedly.

Neither of you pay attention to the elevator doors opening, after all you can call it again, but you do however hear someone from inside the elevator clear their throat. The two of you pull your mouths apart, foreheads still touching for a moment as smirks of embarrassment cross both your features before you turn to see Steve standing inside the elevator with his hands clasped in front of him. He’s looking at the floor, jaw tight, fists clenched.

The two of you step onto the elevator slowly on either side of the super soldier. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart as the elevator doors begin to close and you say quietly, “Sorry.”

***

“She’s too powerful for you,” a devilish smirk crosses Loki’s face.

“I know that,” Steve responds without looking at the god, “and she’s too good for you.”

“I’m well aware.”

They stand side by side watching as you move stealthily across the grass, holding your weapon close to your chest. You lean down with a mischievous grin, giving directions to your partner in crime.

“What’s she doing?” Steve questions out loud.

“Scheming,” the trickster smirks.

Peter comes into view, sweaty and out of breath from his afternoon jog. You and Morgan ambush him, the cool water from the Nerf gun is a shocking but welcomed surprise. It takes a moment for him to stop covering his face with his arms, before Parker quickly scoops Morgan up, converting her to his team as he places the child on his shoulders, then charges after you.

“How bad?” Steve questions Loki, glancing over to him. “How bad can it be?”

“If she succumbs to the darkness?” The god of mischief looks over to the man. “Even I don’t want to find out.”

“Then we don’t let that happen,” Steve’s voice takes on an authoritative tone.

Loki gives him a nod, “Least we agree on something Captain.”

#fanfiction #loki x reader #loki #fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #avengers fanfic #marvel #mcu

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nightingiall · 5 years ago

Text

head in the clouds: part i

Rory Bhatt hates lifeguarding, hates the Shack kids, and hates Niall Horan. All she wants is to have a peaceful summer minding her own business and hopefully be able to find some much needed inspiration so she can finally start sketching things that look good again. But Niall Horan appears, with that annoying grin and a problem on his hands, and of course that plan goes out the window.

A story about tired lifeguards, a stolen cat, wild imaginations, and lots and lots of parties.

There is not a cloud in sight today.

The sky is endlessly blue, starting with a light, nearly white, color from the horizon that blends into the soft azure right over where Rory is sitting. It’s beautiful, she thinks, how one simple color can blend seamlessly into the gradients that make up that sea of vast nothingness above her. But today, she wishes that there was at least one cloud floating by.

She sighs to herself, turning her gaze to the large resort pool in front of her, also a shade of blue, but one caused by the blue tiles at the bottom and not nature itself. There are two children near the shallow end bickering with each other. They couldn’t be more than five and three years old. The oldest, a girl, shoves the youngest, a boy, causing him to wail in the direction of a woman who is presumably their mother. When she doesn’t give him the attention, the boy turns back to the little girl, and even from the distance, Rory can see the angry flash in his eyes. She places her whistle between her lips, readying herself for what he might do next.

Sure enough, he charges at the little girl, jumping on her with such force that her head gets submerged under the water. Rory’s whistle sounds off loudly, everyone’s head jerking towards her, and when they are assured her warning is not for them, they return to their poolside shenanigans. “No dunking!” Rory yells at the two children, removing her sunglasses so they can see her eyes trained on them. “This is your first warning!”

Their maybe-mother notices this exchange and quickly breaks them apart, dragging them towards the pool stairs and scolding them all the way. By the time Rory pushes her sunglasses back up her nose, they’re already walking towards a lounger where a man, presumably their father, is already watching them disapprovingly.

“No drawings today?” comes a voice from beside her, and she turns towards it only to find blue eyes that are entirely too close for comfort.

Niall Horan laughs when she flinches, and she rolls her eyes at the sound. But of course he cannot see that through her sunglasses, so he laughs even louder at her frown. He’s standing on one of the rungs of her lifeguard chair, his face level with hers, and she has half a mind to reach out to shove him off.

She doesn’t.

“Not inspired,” is what she mumbles instead, turning her attention towards her sketchbook, which stares back at her, the open page unbearably blank. She brought her nice charcoal pencils with her today after waking up feeling like sketching the clouds. But when she looks up at the sky again, the endless chasm of blue taunts her.

Niall Horan, for his part, simply grins in that wide, obnoxious way of his and hops off the rung to round the corner to the front of the lifeguard chair. He always offers a hand when she steps down and she never takes it, and the same thing happens today. She’s glaring at him now, as she always does when he does that, but she knows he can’t see it through her sunglasses. He must know it’s there though, because this exchange happens every single time, like clockwork.

Literally.

Niall has been behind her in the rotation for two whole weeks now, meaning he’s always the one nudge her out of this mind numbing job every twenty minutes when they have to move on to the next lifeguard chair.

“Well I’m sure you’ll come up with something!” he says cheerfully, just as she’s about to turn away to head over to the next chair. She chances a glance at him just in time to see him swing himself up onto the seat she just vacated, his sunnies, as he calls them, falling back onto his face. She rolls her eyes again, wondering how he manages to make everything seem so effortless yet so insufferably annoying.

She heads to her next post without another word.

***

Rory cannot stand Niall Horan.

She cannot stand him and his loud laugh and his annoying grin and his stupid jokes. She cannot stand him and the way he’s always peeking over her shoulder into her sketchbook and reaching out to trail his fingers along the pages, smearing her nice charcoal work that she’d meticulously smudge to her own liking.

Rory cannot stand him but there are still 60 days left of summer and she has no choice but to deal with him.

***

“You totally have a crush on him.”

Gigi is laughing and Rory is glaring and this is nothing new for the two of them.

Rory wonders how her roommate can be so cheery all the time. Her dark ringlets bounce with her giggles and her dark brown eyes glitter from the light hitting the tears that are starting to build up near her lashline. Leave it to Gigi to cry laughing at Rory’s expense.

“I do not,” Rory bites out. The sheer insinuation is so annoying that she can feel an angry heat spreading across her cheeks. “I don’t like him. At all.” Gigi is still cackling, hand clutching her tummy as she bows over on their tiny kitchen table. “Gigi! I don’t!”

Her roommate, after wiping her laughter induced tears from her face and taking a deep breath to calm herself, simply smiles at her, watching her knowingly. “Wow,” is what she says, shaking her head slightly as she leans back into her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “You are in such denial.”

Rory, for her part, attempts to send her as menacing a look as she can manage, because truthfully, she is absolutely fuming. Seething. Blindingly angry. All at the assertion that she could have a crush on the most annoying boy on the planet. “Gigi…” Her voice is dangerously low and measured. A warning for them to drop this subject before her anger gets out of hand. “I do not have a crush on Niall Horan.”

There’s a tense silence as they both stare each other down. And, if anything, the way Gigi is calmly smiling at her only makes her more upset. Regardless, a truce is drawn when Gigi brings her mug to her lips, sipping slowly from her coffee and shrugging her shoulders, effectively letting the topic go.

“So,” is what she says, all nonchalantly, as if they weren’t just having a heated conversation. “What are you wearing for the party this weekend?”

Rory lets out a sigh of relief, gladly accepting this change in subject and having no interest in giving Gigi any reason to return to the previous topic. So they drink their coffee together and talk about this party.

***

Rory has worked at The Hightstown Resort every summer since she was a sophomore in high school.

It’s a tradition at this point, and she feels like it’s not summer unless she’s at Hightstown. It feels like home, familiar in a way she needs to feel grounded sometimes. And for all the crap she talks about it, she always looks forward to coming back and seeing all the knowing faces that played a part in the story of her youth.

Her mom worked at Hightstown when she was younger too, so all the long-term staff knows who she and her family are. This is especially helpful after hours when she feels like having a midnight snack and the kitchen staffers will gladly let her into the pantry to choose whatever she wants.

Of course she is not the only returning seasonal employee of Hightstown. Gigi has been her roommate for the past three summers, and there are a few other high school to college-aged people who call this place their summer home too. But Rory likes to think that the rest of the staff likes her best.

Hightstown is a place that’s rife with tradition. For the seasonal kids, anyway.

One of those rituals is the summer bash up at the Shacks. Rory has always wondered which snob named the most glorious and expensive staff quarters at the resort the Shacks. Perhaps they thought they were being clever, because there is nothing grungy or shack-like about it at all. There are hot tubs and private chefs and room service and, most importantly, an endless supply of hot water.

Rory hates the Shack kids.

Not because they can afford the luxurious accommodations. She has nothing against rich people. But she does have something against rude rich people.

That fact doesn’t stop her from going to the summer bash, though.

Gigi made her change her clothes twice so Rory walks into the party sporting her signature snarl because she’s annoyed and her best friend is too preoccupied with worrying over how she’s going to impress one of the Shack boys she has a crush on to notice. “Just because you had a bad experience with one of them doesn’t mean I will,” was what she huffed at her as they walked out of their suite. “Loosen up, Rory!”

Rory hasn’t spoken to her since.

Now they’re in the Sunset Villa where the bash is always held and she’s long lost sight of her roommate. Somehow, Rory manages to find two people she can actually tolerate, standing near the makeshift bar area, and she heads straight towards them.

“There she is!” is what Harry says when she smiles at them, throwing an arm over her shoulders to pull her into his side and she gladly reciprocates by slinging an arm around his waist. “I feel like I never see you anymore!”

“Yeah, Rors, where have you been hiding?” chimes in Leslie. Her long, dark hair is pulled up into what looks like a very intricate crown braid and Rory nearly gets distracted admiring it.

She shrugs. “You know me. Not the social type.” They both frown at her because they know that a few years ago, that wouldn’t have been true at all. Rory was always the one dragging them to the parties and begging them to sneak off the grounds so they could go exploring. But she’s different now. The fact of it makes her heart twist strangely in her chest. So, she changes the subject. “Love your hair, Les! You need to teach me how to braid like that.”

They launch into a conversation about hair while Harry goes to get them all drinks. Finally things are starting to feel normal. After the rough way summer ended last year, Rory wasn’t sure she even wanted to come back to Hightstown. But Harry and Leslie, because she’s known them forever, can always be counted on to pull her out of a funk. They all started working at the resort in the same year and have stuck together ever since. Lately, though, they haven’t been able to spend as much time together because of all of their different placements: Rory’s a lifeguard, Harry’s in the kitchen, and Leslie does all the kids programming.

Harry comes back with beers and they catch up for a while. But somehow, the night transitions in such a way that they end up taking shots with some Shack kids, and then more beer, and then someone procures a joint from somewhere which they end up sharing on the back patio. By the time the night starts to wind down, Rory is pretty drunk and maybe a little high and she needs to get back to her room because she’s had enough of the socializing.

She waves goodbye to Harry and Leslie, leaving with a promise that they’d catch up again soon. Despite technically being outside the entire time, as she walks back through the villa and out the front door, she finds that she can breathe better the further she walks from the party. The breeze feels cooler on her heated skin and her head clears a bit. She briefly wonders whether she should have gone to look for Gigi but figures that she’s probably having fun making out with her new Shack boy toy somewhere so she decides against it. She also may or may not still be upset with her.

She’s halfway down the trail when she realizes that her head feels like it’s a disco ball spinning out of control, and before she knows it, she’s plopping down onto the curb rubbing her fingers against her temples as though that would help in quelling the beginnings of the headache she can feel coming. The night is quiet though, the air feeling all light and floaty around her, and she doesn’t mind relaxing here for a bit. The grass is soft against her hands as she leans back against it, her head lolling back until her eyes are trained towards the sky.

The darkness is a stark contrast to the beautiful blue she had been staring at this morning while perched atop her lifeguard chair. There are definitely no clouds in the sky now, but the beautiful thing about Hightstown is that it’s so sequestered from the city that the stars seem to glow a bit brighter here. She smiles, admiring the way they twinkle, almost wishing she could reach up and pluck one right out of the sky to keep.

“Rory?” comes a voice ahead of her, and when she rolls her head upright again to find its owner, she finds blue eyes that sort of glimmer just like the stars she was just looking at.

Then she blinks a few times and realizes it’s just Niall Horan emerging from the darkness.

Her smile falls, then she sighs. She may not like him, but she’s not a bitch, so she mumbles, “Hi, Horan,” in response.

He’s dressed all nice, like a typical Shack boy: dark wash denim jacket with the sleeves cuffed to his elbows, slim fit t-shirt, and some jeans. With his dark hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes, he reminds her of last summer. Reminds her of big brown eyes and a smile that can light up the whole resort. Reminds her of searing kisses and warm touches and giggling into a different denim jacket in some hidden away corner of the grounds

He reminds her of a different Shack boy who broke her heart.

As Niall makes himself comfortable on the curb next to her, she vows to herself that she will not allow a repeat of last summer to happen.

Just as a scowl is starting to form on her face, Niall turns to her, his own lips curling into that megawatt grin of his, and she has to stop herself from wincing because something about it makes her stomach turn. It reminds her too much of another her, in a different summer, where she might’ve been in this exact position with another boy who she didn’t know would rip her heart out of her chest and stomp all over it.

“Were you just at the party?” he asks, voice all soft and sweet and lilted in that Irish accent of his. Ugh, she thinks, internally rolling her eyes, because she’s drunk and that accent just made her heart stop for a second and she hates herself for it. Hates him for it.

She’s just about to say something snarky when she’s interrupted by a strange sound. It startles her for a moment. It sounded so nearby but her alcohol-muddled brain had been too distracted to determine what exactly it was. It happens again and Rory thinks that it sounds a lot like a cat meowing, which in itself is odd because Hightstown has a strict anti-pet policy.

She looks around to find the source when her eyes land on a rather large duffel near Niall’s feet. She hadn’t noticed it before and when she looks up at him to ask him about it, she finds that his face is flushed a bright crimson, visible despite the fact that they’re sitting in the darkness. “Horan,” she says slowly because she’s slightly suspicious now. “What’s in that bag?”

He chuckles nervously which only makes her narrow her eyes at him. “Uhh,” he gets out as he rubs his hands on his jeans, and Rory would bet her life that it’s because they’re sweating. “Nothing.”

He tries to move the duffel away discreetly but she notices. She couldn’t care less about what Niall Horan, of all people, was up to. But her interest is piqued now, so she can’t help the way she reaches over him to grab the bag. “You’re hiding something—”

“No!” He blocks her from being able to close her fingers around the strap, and when she looks at him again, there’s a bit of alarm swirling in his eyes. “I—uh...it’s nothing, I swear!”

Rory simply blinks at him. Honestly, the fact that he’s resisting only makes her more curious, so she says, “Niall Horan. What are you up to?”

She watches as he visibly gulps, chewing on his lips as he mulls it over. Finally, he takes a deep breath and says, “Okay. But if I show you then you have to promise not to say a word to anyone.”

At that, she actually laughs and rolls her eyes because that’s so dramatic. But when he doesn’t even crack a smile, doesn't even try to defend himself, she realizes that he’s totally serious. So, to placate him, she goes, “Yeah, okay whatever.”

He gives her a look and it looks a bit funny on him because she’s never seen him act in any way except obnoxiously bubbly all the time. “I mean it, Rory. Not a single soul.”

She groans, rolling her eyes again because this is ridiculous and she’s beginning to wonder whether this back and forth is even worth seeing what’s in the duffel. “Okay, I promise! Unless it’s something illegal like drugs. Then I’m snitching.” It’s telling how drunk she is because she grins at him before her next words leave her mouth. “Unless you’re sharing.”

Niall simply huffs, shaking his head. But he seems convinced enough because he reaches behind him for the bag and places it gently between them. He’s visibly nervous as he unzips it, constantly glancing up at her as if he’s afraid of how she might react. When the bag is finally open, he tosses the flap back and just looks at her. She shrugs him off, leaning over to peer inside. At first, she sees nothing interesting, but then, she catches movement and immediately recoils with a gasp.

“What is that!” She knows she’s drunk but damn it seems a bit crazy for it to be what she thinks it is.

Niall doesn’t have to reply to her because the creature is emerging from the bag. First, its head pops out, then, as if realizing it’s free from its confines, it attempts to step out before unceremoniously flopping over until it lands on the grass between them. It has muted orange fur with black stripes. Its eyes are pulled downwards, mouth—or snout?—curved in a way that resembles a frown. And it’s huge. Rory has never seen one that big and didn’t even know they were able to get to that size.

“Whoa,” is what leaves her mouth as she stares dumbly at it. She almost wants to laugh. She has to be absolutely wasted because surely her eyes are deceiving her. “That is...a big cat.” Niall is grinning stupidly at her, reaching out to nuzzle the creature’s face. It purrs at his touch but its frown seems to remain intact. Rory tilts her head at it. “Actually...is it really a cat? And not like...a baby tiger or something?”

“Nah, he’s just a regular ol’ cat. Reckon he’s just a bit big-boned or something.” The creature—Rory thinks she’ll just call it a cat—putters towards her and she leans away from it slightly which makes Niall laugh. “Go on, pet him! Isn’t he a cute little fella!” Niall is absolutely beaming now and Rory huffs. She wouldn’t call that thing little, but she reaches out regardless, cautiously rubbing a finger on its head. The cat closes its eyes and purrs at her touch. “Awww,” Niall coos, reaching out too, “he likes you!”

The shock is wearing off and her senses are finally coming back to her. “Uhhhh. Where did you even get this from? You know they’re not allowed on the grounds right?”

He shrugs, gently grabbing a hold of the cat and placing it back into the duffel. “Some lady left the poor little thing in her car out at valet. When she finally got back she got mad at him for leaping out.” Niall is looking at her all imploringly and all Rory can think about is how he really needs to stop calling that thing little. It is definitely not little. “She even raised her hand on him!” He huffs, getting all heated over it. “So,” he says matter of factly, “I saved him from her.”

Rory stares at him. “You stole a cat?”

He shakes his head at her. “No. I saved him.” He nuzzles the thing before apologizing to it softly as he closes the zipper again, leaving a small portion of it open, probably so it could breathe. “Besides, I’m sure the Dree-foos lady won’t miss him anyway.”

Now she’s gaping at him because she recognizes that name. She nearly hopes she misheard it because he’s in deep shit otherwise. “You stole Mrs. Dreyfuss’s cat?!” she asks in disbelief, eyes widened at him. All he does is shrug and she brings her hands to her mouth. “Horan!” she hisses, “don’t you know who she is?”

Niall gives her a look, reaching into the duffel to pet the stolen cat absentmindedly. “I don’t know? An animal abuser?”

Rory shakes her head, huffing exasperatedly. “No, dummy. She’s on the freakin’ board of directors!” She can see the exact moment the weight of this situation dawns on him, his eyes widening slightly. “If you get caught,” she says, because she feels like he needs to hear it verbalized too, “you’re not just getting fired. Dreyfuss will throw a fit and get the whole company in trouble.”

Silence engulfs them for a moment as Niall mulls over her words. “Damn,” is what he finally ends up saying, eyes glazed over in thought. Then, he turns to Rory, spirit all brightened now like he’s just gotten an idea. “Will you help me hide him from people?”

Rory makes an affronted sound because he is so delusional if he thinks she would ever do that. “Absolutely not! I am not getting fired over your stolen cat-tiger thing.”

He frowns at her, and she ignores the little swoop her tummy gives. “Please? You know the grounds better than anyone.”

She gets up from the curb, wobbling slightly because she’s still tipsy and this is all just ridiculous. “No,” she says firmly, turning around to face him only to realize that he’d gotten up too, the duffel now slung over his shoulder. But then, she feels bad because deep down, she knows he means no harm. Even if he’s being absolutely stupid. So she says, “I’ll walk you to the Shacks. But no more. I want nothing else to do with this.”

He grins at her, thanking her profusely as she starts to lead him through the alleyways to the Shacks. And all she can think about the entire time they’re walking is that if she were sober, this would have never happened.

***

Rory thinks Niall Horan is way in over his head.

She’s always been a dreamer, and her mom was always yelling at her to get her head out of the clouds, but no one, she thinks now, is more delusional than Niall Horan if he thinks he can just steal a gigantic cat and keep it safely in his suite at the Shacks.

But she supposes he has 56 days left of summer to deal with that.

tell me what you think! :)

#head in the clouds #writings #niall horan fanfiction #i FULLY intended this to be a oneshot #but then somehow it became over 30 pages long and i was like....maybe it's a fic #anyway wanted to write something fun and goofy and a little bit stupid #if you like it--great #if you don't pls don't tell me lmao #(unless its constructive criticism)#impulse posting tonight bc i'm bored #enjoy #k bye

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