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poorrichardslegacy · 4 years

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Kacxa Week 2020 Day 4 - Retro Kacxa

Nightmares

SUMMARY: Ten-year-old Acxa and nine-year old Keith both suffer recurring nightmares in their respective orphanages…about each other.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26874736

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Acxa/Keith (Voltron) Characters: Acxa (Voltron), Keith (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron) Additional Tags: Kacxa Week 2020, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

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Acxa

The nightmare is back, for the third night in a row.

Acxa has somehow managed to fly her ship into the belly of a gigantic space beast. How she got there, and how long she has been there, she has no clue.

Her right arm and right leg are injured, and she is bleeding from a cut on her forehead. Outside, strange amoeba-like creatures attack her ship, slowly dissolving it. Vine-like fibers are wrapped around the vessel, slowly crushing it.

A chill runs down her spine. She sees no way out. Is this how she is supposed to die? Alone inside the belly of a beast?

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

She awakens in a cold sweat, sitting up in bed, thrashing about and looking around frantically to get her bearings.

“Hey…Acxa…it’s me. Did you have that nightmare again?”

Hearing a familiar voice, ten-year-old Acxa Combari begins to settle down. She is in the sleeping quarters of the orphanage on Corillia, where she has been since the death of her mother. The comforting voice belongs to her best friend, Ezor Corderian

“Breathe slowly. You’re turning purple. Trust me girl, purple is not your color. Here…drink this.”

The warm milk has the desired effect, and she begins to calm down.

Awakened by Acxa’s thrashing and Ezor’s efforts to calm her down, one of the orphans closest to the pair begins to complain about the noise. Ezor, cranky herself from being awakened from a sound sleep, nevertheless sticks up for her best friend.

“Keep it up hotshot and I’ll give you something to really complain about. Now be quiet and go back to sleep.”

Ezor turns back to her friend, rubbing her back to calm her down. “You want to tell me about it?

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

Keith

Keith finds himself alone in a strange environment, being attacked by amoeba-like creatures. Nearby, a lake of what appears to be acid sits just below the escarpment on which he stands. Realizing the creatures are trying to kill him, he does the only thing he can think of – he dives headfirst into the acid.

Protected for the moment by his suit, Keith manages to work his way down what appears to be a tunnel.

Breaking through the barrier at the end of the tunnel, he finds himself dropping into an abyss. His fall is broken when he lands on a solid object covered in what appear to be vines.

Gathering his wits, he studies his landing perch carefully and realizes he is standing on the nose of what appears to be a fighter. Gazing into the cockpit, he sees movement and realizes someone is in there. Someone very much alive.

On the left shoulder of their uniform they bear an insignia he has never seen before.

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Nine-year-old Keith Kogane sits up with a start. Sweating profusely, he looks around and realizes he is in the orphanage just outside Platte City.

That nightmare again. The one that keeps repeating itself. For four nights in a row now.

What does it all mean?

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Acxa

After a night of peaceful sleep, mostly due to exhaustion, the dream comes back with a vengeance the following night.

This time there is a twist.

Stuck in her crashed fighter, she hears a thud coming from the front of her craft, as if someone…or something…just landed on the front it. Outside she hears and feels moment as whatever is on the nose of her fighter approaches the cockpit.

Looking up, she sees a stranger staring back at her. He is of a race she has never seen before. Wearing white armor with red and black trim, she can tell he is tall, and of a muscular build. Through the cockpit glass of her fighter and the face shield of his helmet, she gets a good look at his face

His eyes are a deep indigo, and his hair is black. A big lock of his hair hangs down in front of his face. This stranger is handsome, in a roguish sort of way.

He says something to her, but she is not able to make it out. Without warning, he shatters the cockpit glass and reaches a hand in to help her out. As she takes his hand, she awakens from her dream

This time she does not cry out. She does not hyperventilate. This time, she is remarkably calm

She settles down to sleep, and the dream never returns.

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

Ten Decaphoebs Later

Squeezing his way through the mucous plug at the end of the passageway, Keith finds himself in what he believes is the second stomach of the Weblum. Using his jetpack to break his fall, he notices a strange shape over to his right.

“No way!”

He jetpacks over and lands with a thud on the nose of what turns out to be a fighter. He cannot make out who it belongs to because of the stomach fibers covering it. Gazing inside the cockpit he spots the pilot…and realizes to his great surprise that they are still alive.

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Acxa cannot believe her eyes. Standing on the nose cone of her fighter is a male of a race she has never seen before. She thinks about lifting the shield covering her face so that she can communicate with him but thinks better of it. Best to be safe and figure out who he is first. For the moment she will remain anonymous and silent.

Through the cockpit glass of her fighter she clearly hears a firm masculine voice calling out to her. “Don’t move. I’m here to help.”

From a device she has never seen before appears a Galra broadsword. She exhales in disappointment. If he thinks he is going to cut through diamond-hard cockpit glass with that…

With a mighty effort, the stranger slices open the cockpit glass as if it were paper. She sits there in shock at how effortlessly he destroyed the diamond-hard canopy. She snaps out of her daze when he silently extends a hand to help her out of the cockpit.

She has no idea who he is, but it is a hand she is more than willing to take.

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

Sometime later, after a brief misunderstanding that involved her running over him and taking her weapon back, Acxa and the stranger find themselves in the third stomach of the Weblum. Despite acknowledging that he is an enemy combatant fighting against the Galra, he nevertheless protected Acxa when they were attacked by stomach creatures. Realizing he is someone who shares her belief that all life is precious, she gladly returned the favor and protected him when the opportunity called for it.

Acxa now stands just in front of him and looks around. The third stomach was her objective, but she sees no evidence of the scaultrite she is there to collect.

While wondering what she is to do, they are joined by a third person. They are obviously a companion of her rescuer, but unlike her roguish companion the newcomer’s uniform is accented in yellow and black.

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

“Keith! Keith! You made it! We both made it!” Seeing the Galra pilot standing in front of them, Hunk turns to him with a quizzical look. “Who is this?”

“I don’t know. Someone I found. He doesn’t talk much. Also, he’s Galra.”

“What, do you guys all know each other?” Hunk whispers to Keith so as not to be overheard. “Do you really think we should be rescuing a Galra soldier right now?”

“We’re Paladins of Voltron. We can’t just leave people to die, even if they are Galra. Now come on. Let’s get what we came for and get out.”

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

Hearing the name of her mysterious rescuer, Acxa freezes in place as her eyes fly wide open. She flashes back to the nightmares she had in the orphanage ten years earlier.

That name. Those eyes. That hair!

She closes her eyes and thinks to herself, “It…it can’t be him.”

She slowly looks over her left shoulder, pretending to be looking about the stomach, but really turning to get a good look at her rescuer. A wry smile crosses her face as she continues the mental dialog with herself.

“So, you’re Keith. The Red Paladin of Voltron. Hmm…you’re cuter than the Galra Information Ministry makes you out to be. And it seems you are here for the same thing I am.”

Acxa faces forward and, pushing all other thoughts out of her mind, focuses on the mission at hand.

She needs to find some Scaultrite, or Lotor will not be happy.

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

Leaving the Weblum behind, Acxa makes for the rendezvous point where she is picked up by a Galra cruiser.

“Are you ok, General?”

“I’m fine. Get word to Prince Lotor that the mission was a success.”

“Vrepit Sa!”

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

The scaultrite loaded on board the Yellow Lion, Keith makes his way to the cockpit.

“So…where’s your buddy?”

Keith crosses his arms and looks down at the floor as he leans against the wall of the cockpit. “Long gone by now. He drew his pistol on me and stole a bag of scaultrite.”

Hunk decides it is time he clues his friend in on something that he is obviously missing.

“Keith, buddy, I hate to break it to you. But that Galra who was with us…is a she, not a he.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, I think I means that you’re blind if you can’t tell the difference between a man and a woman.”

Keith sighs and looks up at the ceiling of the cockpit in frustration. “That’s just…great. So, I’m blind and stupid.”

“No, not stupid. Blind maybe. I mean, have you ever been on a date with a woman? Maybe that’s why you can’t tell the diff…”

Keith gives Hunk what can best be described as a death glare.

“Ok, I’ll take that as a no. Moving on…”

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

Acxa looks out into space and sees a faint contrail moving away from the Weblum. She knows it is one of the Voltron Lions, carrying Keith back to his home base.

She sits there, wracked by a pang of guilt she never expected to feel. She built trust with him. They protected each other and had each other’s back. And in the end, she figurative stabbed him in the back, drawing her pistol on him and stealing a large bag of the scaultrite.

That act of betrayal now haunts her.

She speaks softly as she watches the Yellow Lion fade into the darkness of space. “I don’t know anything about you, Red Paladin of Voltron. I don’t expect you to understand why I betrayed you. I hope you know I never intended to pull the trigger. Not after the way you protected me. I owe you that much.”

“Someday…maybe…I’ll have a chance to explain my actions and tell you I’m sorry. For now, be safe Keith.”

“Until we meet again.”

END NOTE: This story is set within the AU of The Galra Chronicles. It builds on a brief scene in Chapter 3 of the Marmoran Generals in which Acxa relates to Zethrid the dream her ten-year-old self had about meeting Keith.

#kacxaweek2020 #vld kacxa #kacxa fic #keith x acxa #kacxa #acxa

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jlf23tumble · 4 years

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I was tagged by @alienfuckeronmain for my ten fave ships, and boy howdy, it’s a tough one, given what I’ve read over the years!! I’ll leave RPF-related fic pairings out of this because I don’t need the indirecting, you cowards, but if we’re talking fictional pairing, let’s go!

1. Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuraykin, Man from UNCLE. My forever OTP, always in my heart, etc., don’t care if it’s a movie, a TV show, a book, a fic, a graphic novel, they’re the archetype of my fave personality combo (grumpy stoic meets charismatic charmer cum quasi-himb, enemies to friends to pining to lovers), and I cherish them always.

2. Finn/Poe Dameron, Star Wars. This is a tough one because I feel like the pairing morphed in the last few years into something I don’t love (please no Reylo on the side, please no racial fetishizing), but I always have a soft spot for my original viewing in late 2015, all the fic that came in 2016, and all the interviews that followed.

3. Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji, The Untamed. ARCHETYPE FAVES, wow, talk about nailing the grump/charmer combo, and yes, yes, I’m only on the first third of this show, but I’m savoring it, and I’ve already read one fic I love, and I know I’m gonna DIE when I fully immerse myself, but goddd, this show, this pairing!!!

4. Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, The X Files. Shockingly enough, this pairing matches the style of my other faves, wow! These two have been an obsession from way back, but I’ve also read pretty much every other pairing they could match with on the show, I’m that into their respective strengths as characters.

5. Lightning McQueen/Doc Hudson, Cars. Yet again, ~evidence of my preferred type of dynamic, but honest to god, every fic Phoenix has written here really nails them in this beautifully specific way that I wish everyone would read and marvel at instead of [bitchy comment redacted].

6. Columbo/his unnamed husband, Columbo. This one’s a stretch only because I haven’t dived deep into ao3 yet, only tumblr (or rather, columblr), and my mind is blown by the head canon that all those times Columbo mentioned his wife (and we never saw her), he actually was talking about his husband, but yeah, as a character? He’s one of my faves, and i want to see him get some, don’t care how or who.

7. (tie) Han Solo/Luke Skywalker, Kirk/Spock, Star Wars and Star Trek, respectively. I’m just putting these together because I’m more of a casual fan on the fringes of these two ginormous fandoms, but I absolutely do read and love this pairings (usually current authors, but I’ve also peeped into--and loved--older works, they’re a comfy pair of slippers, the both of ‘em).

8. Every single pairing in Harry Potter. Look, I’m not proud of it, but in the pre-ao3 era, you had to subscribe to/enter all these specific fansites to read HP fic, and I absorbed it all, I literally couldn’t wait between books, so give me your drarry, your linny, your what-EVER, I probably read it, and jkr burned that entire world and fandom to the ground for me, but yeah, will read anything that pisses this author off forever more!

9. 10th Doctor/Rose and 10th Doctor/Jack, Doctor Who. Another one you had to creep into specific servers to find “back in the day,” but I was really into the whole David Tennant/Billie Piper situation (and let’s face it, David Tennant/John Barrrowman, too), which also played into the show fic, so this dips into my RPF ban from the intro, but still, there’s truly great fic in this fandom, all pairings.

10. I’m gonna cheat and leave this last one as a catch all because there are so many fics and fandoms that I’ll read and love only one fic in, and that’s valid, I only have two eyes. But maybe this is a future Joe/Nicky Old Guard zone, once I finally finish it beyond gifs (or a Witcher zone after I read the books). Or maybe once Phoenix sends me the Jake of State Farm Insurance fic--it can happen!!! (Oddly related, Star Trek: The Next Generation, god, I can’t even type up all the one-off pairings I’ve read/loved there.)

tl/dr, I’m so grateful to ao3 for making it a billion times easier to follow an author or pairing, to search tags, to find anything in ANY fandom, RPF or not, just because you saw a movie and thought, heyyyyy, what if?? God bless you! Gonna tag @lesbiancolumbo, @cowfemme, @houliwife, @lesbiancolumbo because I get the vibe you guys have some amazing combos, but if anyone else is keen, go for it!

#tag games #pairings #fanfiction

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theclaravoyant · 5 years

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AN ~ This fic is called “Catharsis” not just on the characters’ behalves, but on mine. I am planning another more nuanced, narrative-integrated exploration of some of these themes but in the moment when I started writing this I kinda Went Off at biphobia. Kevin was the vessel for my protectiveness... and Julia Diaz unfortunately copped the unflattering role of Every I’m-Not-Homophobic-But person I’ve ever met. This is for you grandma :)))))

NOW ON AO3 (~2400wd)

Warnings: This fic has a happy/uplifting ending (*jake peralta voice* I CATHARTED) but it does deal with themes of homophobia and biphobia, including a reference to AIDS. If you would like to know more detail about the fic’s contents before diving in, message me and I’m happy to chat.

Prompt: 4. “I know you didn’t ask for this.”

Fandom: Brooklyn 99 - featuring Rosa Diaz, Kevin Cozner, Julia Diaz, Jake Peralta, with background Holt x Kevin and Rosa x Jocelyn.

Rated: T

Tags: Platonic Relationships, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Biphobia, AIDS reference.

Catharsis

“Rosa?”

She knew that voice. She ignored it.

“Rosa, mi niña…”

She glared at her report. Corrected a typo with an aggressive stab at the keyboard.

“Uh, excuse me, Detective Diaz?”

She gritted her teeth, and forced her lips into a wide twist on a hospitable smile. In an overly sweet tone that bristled for all to hear, she invited –

“Detective Peralta, can you assist Mrs Diaz please?”

“Uhh. Sure.”

Jake looked uncertainly between Rosa and her mother, but stepped forward. Rosa knew when she needed protecting and if this was one of those times then he would offer what he could. He couldn’t imagine what she was going through, after she and her mother had tried to talk about it again and had come to another explosive loggerhead. Still, he was not too sure of his place in all this. He wanted to give Julia a good scolding, but given that she was Rosa’s mother it probably wouldn’t be intimidating in the slightest by comparison. Plus, he had to remind himself, it was probably not his place. Rosa could scold her own mother. And now he was getting side-tracked.

“How can I help you, Mrs Diaz?”

Fortunately, the fact that Julia was still very keen on watching her daughter and apparently cared very little about Jake’s question, or presence at all, became side-tracked all on its own when the elevator doors opened and the newly-demoted Officer Holt arrived back from lunch with Kevin. It was not exactly a daily occurrence, but not irregular around these parts; still, the squad usually would have clamoured all over them for the day’s instalment of juicy wedding-planning gossip were it not for the never-before-seen Diaz family throwdown emanating a distracting amount of tension in the middle of the room.

At first the newcomers were unfazed, and Kevin opened the gate to the bull pen and gestured – with an arm full of flowers and a tiny but glowing smile - for Raymond to proceed him through. They would have happily continued in this distracted bliss, letting the team resolve whatever drama was going down, were it not for the fact that the lilies in Kevin’s arms and the slightest brush of his hand against Raymond’s arm as he passed made the two of them suddenly relevant to said drama.

It started small, just a little – Jake would have had to call it a wince, from Julia. She kind of, curled up her nose a bit, and Jake was reminded of the time he’d punched his former literary hero in the face.

Do not. Punch. Rosa’s. Mother, he commanded of himself, and of course he wasn’t going to, but after dinner and games night and the fight about Jocelyn and knowing the reason for no cop talk at parties and seeing how things like that sneer infected the lives of his friends, he couldn’t just stand there, and so it slipped out – his place or not -

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Julia baulked. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate for a workplace, that’s all.”

“What?” Jake frowned. Why did this keep surprising him?

“What?”

Rosa’s version was not so much confused, as cold. It was sharp – near ruthless. All the fear and pain and seething she had felt etched into her these past few months she spat into her words as she got up from her desk and stalked around it, closer to her mother.

“They’re coming back from a date,” she growled. “Kevin is Holt’s husband. They’ve been together for thirty years.”

Julia at least had the sense to look impressed by this, which quelled the biting fury and the stinging sense of rejection inside Rosa, if only a little. She shouldn’t need to shove wholesome couple after wholesome couple down her mother’s throat for her to get it, but at least it was something. At least it was something. She swallowed, and prayed that this would be over quickly. Of course, it wouldn’t. Not least because the next thing her mother said made her want to start digging a pit to the centre of the earth and never return.

“Well, that makes sense, dear. They were probably the only two left.”

“Ex-cuse me?” Holt interjected.

“Mom, oh my god,” Rosa protested, her stomach churning.

“IIIII don’t understand enough about what’s going on here to be standing where I’m standing,” Jake babbled, because he’d somehow ended up in an uncomfortably prominent position in a very tense, angry circle of Strong Feelings. He scurried out of the way, back behind some desks, and half expected Holt and Rosa to leap into the space he’d left and go after Julia like it was some kind of cage match.

But no.

It was Kevin.

Cool, calm, collected Kevin who was just starting to bristle around the edges and who had a sharpness to his glare, and to his tongue, that anyone in the room besides perhaps Holt would be hard pressed to say they’d ever seen in him before. Jake had. When they were being hunted by Sean Murphy, and Kevin had been trying and failing to protect his husband.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Mrs – Diaz, is it?”

She knew she was in for something, but nodded.

“I’m sure you understand that I don’t appreciate your making light of my relationship,” he continued. “Nor of a very serious disease that took several of Raymond’s and my friends away from us a very young age. Many younger, if I may point out, than Detective Diaz there.”

“I’m so sorry,” Julia apologised, and it could not be said that any part of that was faked. She just hadn’t thought of it quite like that. But the thought of her little girl succumbing to such a horrible disease only made her throat close up and her fears feel more prickly and urgent and intense. “I didn’t mean any offence. You can’t choose who you are.”

“Perhaps not,” Kevin rebutted, “but if I could, I like to believe that I would choose Raymond every time, and he me.”

Julia blinked. “You wouldn’t want to have a family?”

“Raymond is my family.”

“But… wouldn’t it be easier… I mean, if you liked both, wouldn’t being with a woman be easier?”

“Not always. For example, not all women would feel comfortable with the fact that I also enjoyed the company of men.”

There was a beat of eye contact between them, and Julia cleared her throat.

“…Well,” she said, somewhat quieter this time. “You wouldn’t have to tell anyone.”

Rosa wrapped her arms around herself, under the guise of crossed arms. The mask of irritation she had put up began to crack as she replayed the argument with her mother in her mind. It was Jocelyn that her mother couldn’t take seriously; it was always she’s a nice girl, but, like Rosa failed to grasped the concept of settling down. It was always nice, always compliments, so it was hard to explain how much it hurt. Few people in the room knew how that felt. Jake, at least, took note of the tears that were starting to burn her eyes, and shuffled a little closer to her. He was still a whole desk away but somehow she breathed a little easier at that.

Then Kevin met her eyes.

He had been about to turn back; to retreat from a conversation that was deeply uncomfortable and that might not be his place. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to shut himself in Raymond’s office – or even better, their home – and forget he’d ever poked this particular bear.

Then, across the circle, he’d seen her.

He’d seen Rosa, and her arms across her chest, the sheen of tears in her eyes as she tried to look neither away from, nor directly at the scene in front of her.

In her, he saw himself, in church, as a boy. He saw himself, in class, as a student, learning about Achilles and Patroclus and knowing he couldn’t say what he was thinking. He saw himself at his brother’s wedding, looking out at the crowd of people that had gathered to celebrate and wondering – knowing, at the time, or so it had felt – that such a crowd would never turn out for him.

And perhaps it was the fact that he and Raymond had just come back from booking the florist for a ceremony he’d once thought impossible, that sent a pain careering through Kevin’s chest like an arrow. It certainly did not help matters that they’d just started putting together the guest list and seating chart for the wedding, and his father was not on it. And worst of all, was the acute sense of bitterness that he remembered all too well, that had tainted his father’s last breath, when he had told Kevin that he loved him for the first, the last, and the only time since the day he’d come out.

He had tears in his eyes by the time he turned his attention back to Julia. She glanced between him, and over her shoulder at Rosa. There was something between these two, that much she understood. Could the gay thing really run that deep?

“Mrs Diaz,” Kevin said, and it was clearly taking a lot to keep his voice steady. Julia turned back to him, solemn and intrigued as he took a deep breath and spoke – not only on his own behalf, but on her daughter’s as well.

“I know you didn’t ask for this,” he said. “But your daughter is trying to share something with you that is very important to her. She is trying the best she can to share her life with you. It might be difficult to understand but please, please believe that the love you feel for your husband – that is the same love she is capable of feeling. Maybe for a woman. Maybe even for Jocelyn. That’s all she’s trying to tell you. And you should listen. And you should treasure her with all your heart. Because I know for a fact how it feels when that revelation comes too late.”

He let it land, and all of a sudden his knees felt weak beneath him. He marched past Raymond and out of the bull pen into the lift before the shock of what he’d just done could wear off enough to collapse him.

The others watched him go: most were baffled by his unusually vivid emotiveness, but Rosa for one was grateful. Jake hugged himself a little tighter; protectiveness over his friends warring with crappy-dad sympathy to make one super uncomfortable feelings-cocktail. Julia was a little hurt, a little stunned, a little intrigued. Holt, as per usual, took the unusual turn of events in his stride. He held up a wrist and explained:

“Kevin’s father gave me this watch the day he died. After twenty-two years of not tolerating my presence in his home, he apologised, and he wished us luck.” Luck. He snorted. “My father died when I was younger, before I met Kevin, but my mother has always loved and supported me - every part of me, and of the two of us – and believe me when I say I would not be where I am without that love and support. Do not underestimate your power.”

Julia nodded. Maybe, just maybe, it was starting to sink in.

“I know you love your daughter very much, Mrs Diaz,” Holt continued, a little more gently now – but only a little - “and she loves you. It would be a shame to let that go to waste. But I’m sure you know that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere.”

He gave Julia a pointed stare before exiting the bull pen to track down and comfort Kevin.

Julia took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. If nothing else, it was comforting to know that her daughter had a very protective group of friends and colleagues. And the passion with which they all spoke about each other. And the watch…

When Rosa had walked out on her, Julia had feared for just a second, that her daughter might never speak to her again. It had been one of the most frightening moments of her life, and though it had passed blissfully quickly at the time, she couldn’t help but reflect on it now. And on Holt’s words. And on the gaping wounds their arguments seemed to leave in her. She was only trying to love her daughter, to want what was best for her. But if she stayed on this path, this dark future of bitterness and grief, how could that possibly be better? Wouldn’t she prefer to see her daughter carry herself with pride, smile at the one she loved, open the door for them and carry the bouquet they’d presented her and brush arms with subtle love on their return from a lunch date?

Julia turned to face her daughter, to find her midway through wiping tears from her face.

“I love you, mi niña,” she whispered. “And if Jocelyn makes you happy – then I am happy for you. And I’m going to try harder to understand.”

“Okay,” Rosa said, her voice wobbling dangerously. She cleared her throat. “And yeah. Jocelyn does make me happy. I dunno about marrying her yet but. You know. We’ll see I guess.”

Short sentences. Still not quite crying. Nailing it.

Fortunately, that was part of her daughter that her mother did understand, or at least was used to. She did not push Rosa for more, simply picked up her handbag.

“I got a new extension to Trivial Pursuit,” she said. “Your father and I would love to play it this Friday if you’re available. Bring your friends, of course - or perhaps… Jocelyn?”

Sick and dizzy as she felt at the barrage of emotion, Rosa’s stomach flipped. She was lucky she was not a naturally smiley person, or she might just have given herself away because all of a sudden her heart was screaming IT’S ALL I EVER WANTED, which was of course, an exaggeration, but after months and months of the most awful tension of her life it was like falling away like a mudslide. Is this what relief felt like?

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

Julia nodded, and took her leave.

#fictober19 #rosa diaz #kevin cozner #brooklyn 99 #b99fic #holt x kevin #rosa x jocelyn #b99squad #clara's fic tag #homophobia #biphobia

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melyaliz · 4 years

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Chapter 4 Master of Puppets

Fandom: Marvel / X-men

Summary: Waking up from a dream to find you are living a nightmare

Pairing: Peter x OC

Notes: I will be slowing down updates on this story for a new story. It doesn’t mean I’m not updating it just may be more like every few weeks vs. every week.

This chapter is shorter. Part of me wanted to dive more into the mystery of her not knowing BUT that’s not what this story is about. It’s about her healing from it.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

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Gemma was locked up in the house. Something she chose to do. Something she had done to herself. The fear of why she had missed a week of her life too great that she couldn’t think of any other way.

It was only until she could figure out what was going on with her. Until she had some answers for her missing week she would lock herself away.

Like a princess in a tower.

Only no one was coming to kiss her.

Nights seemed the worse, the endless lights and flashing. Her body would ache when she woke, large bruises over her body, there were even small cutes she didn’t remember getting.

She was going crazy. That was the only explanation. She was having some sort of night terrors that were causing her to self-harm.

The problem was she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why.

Gemma had a relatively normal life growing up. Her parents were married and loved each other. Her dad was a paster and while she knew the stereotype of overly strict religious parents hers had never really been that way. Always talking to her with respect and understanding.

I mean they even let her feed her heavy metal obsession without much question.

Her dad had even gotten her a guitar for her 16th birthday.

Yeah, her childhood had been pretty average all things considering.

So why was she having this mental break?

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Two weeks went by and then one night the reality all came crashing down on her.

Lights flashing and screaming. Yells loud so loud it broke through the dreams of half faces.

“Gemma!” is called out to her, screaming her name. Over and over again laced around broken words. “Hear… Gemma! I… fight… GEMMA!”

White, flashes of white fading into a shape. Hair white hair on top of blurry body.

Peter?

“GEMMA” the voice screamed again, “Wake up!”

Her body felt like that night when she had touched him. Electricity burning inside her, lighting her up. Energy so powerful it felt like her whole body was glowing.

It felt so real, felt so.

“P… what?” she finally spoke outreaching through the murky waters of the dream. Trying to find the service. Trying to make sense of what her brain might be telling her.

Suddenly it hurt. Her brain felt like it was on fire. Red hot flashes across her vision burning at the tips. The pain. It hunt, unlike anything she had ever felt.

“Fight it! Fight Gemma! WAKE UP!”

Her hand grabbed his and he broke into her existence. Breached the service becoming so real.

He was real.

And she felt it, on the back on her neck the pain fighting for control. Trying to pull her back into the deep with the shapes and blurs. Trying to pull her back into her dreams.

She gripped his arm pulling his power from him, filling herself up with his endless energy. Her body burning hot. The pain, she felt like it would engulf her. Burn from the inside out.

Screams. Someone was screaming in pain. Screaming, unlike anything she had ever heard before. Someone help that person? Someone save them.

With each scream memories came flashing, a bony man strapping her to a medical bed. Four other people linking themselves to her. Her hair falling from a tall ponytail. Hair falling down around her shoulders.

Her neck.

The device suddenly felt so hot burring at the base of her neck sending fire up into her skull. How had she never noticed it before? How had she never felt it there?

“Get out” She snarled feeling it pulse through her fighting to take over again.

“Get out of my mind!!” She screamed pulling the energy around her. Filling her up and focusing it on one point.

Snap

And she was awake. Peter kneeling next to her his large brown eyes studying her. Behind him stood several other people who she didn’t recognize yet felt so familiar. Like the melody of a song that never existed.

Turning she saw the other three, her fellow teammates standing there too. She knew them, knew she had been commanded to help, fight alongside them. Flashes of memories coming back. Colors and lights fading together showing bits and pieces of her life during all those nights.

What they had made her do.

Turning she looked back at the white-haired speedster. Her hands still gripping his arms as he steadied her. A wide smirk on his face glad she had finally figured it out.

Know it all.

“I’m sorry,” Gemma whispered taking his hand, “just one more time”

“Wait wha...”

Peter let out a groan as she drained him pulling his energy before backing up body lighting up with his energy. Then turning she bolted.

“No!” One of her old teammates yelled rushing forward but she was too fast blasting him away.

—-

They were gone when she got there. The lab empty.

Those cowards had cleared out the moment they had know she would break. That she was coming for them

Rage filled her as she stood there. Her fingers crackling with energy as she let the power flow through her lighting up the building as if any damage she did would really do any good. Would get back at them for what they had done to her.

After a few moments, she fell to her knees sobbing. Frustrated as she sat there, angry tears flowing as she looked around at the scorched walls.

Why?

Why would someone do this to her?

“Gemma?” his voice was soft echoing through the empty room. She knew it by now, knew it was him without even looking. His footsteps were quick as he appeared before her kneeling down.

Peter.

She looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. She was sure she looked like a wreck. Sniffing she wiped her face on the back of her dirty sleeve.

“Why would they do this to me?” she asked him, her blue eyes searching his brown ones for answers. “I… Why?”

“We can help” the voice was female, a beautiful red-haired girl came to stand next to Peter, “The professor can help you.”

“The who?”

“Come with us,” another boy said from behind her. She turned to see him and a few other mutant kids standing in the doorway of the lab. “We help people like you.”

“People who have been used?”

“Mutants,” Peter said bringing her attention back to him. His hand was out in a gesture of peace. Holding it out for her to take, so she did. The current between them sparking for a moment but dying quickly. She had no reason not to trust him.

He had known, he had woken her up from this nightmare she didn’t even know she had been living.

-GET TAGGED!-

Forever tag: @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep @cdwmtjb8 @olive-tini

#Peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff x oc #Peter Maximoff fanfic #x men oc #ocapp #my fic #my story #my writing #Gemma

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hopeduckling13 · 5 years

Text

A Wish Come True: Chapter 15

Summary: How quickly can your mood change from pure happiness to pure horror? In a millisecond.The day Killian and Emma found out they were true love, they were ecstatic. That is until, they were forced to say goodbye to each other. For forever. Or so they thought.Can they still manage to find their true love for each other after five years of seperation or is it too late?

Fandom: Once Upon A Time

Ship: Captain Swan

Rating: M

Setting: 5 years after 5x20 Firebird

Also on AO3, FF.net and Wattpad

Catch up on Tumblr: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14]

Reblog to be tagged in future chapters: @mcakers

~~~ EMMA’S POV ~~~

Eventually the wind on the Jolly Rodger gets a little cold and uncomfortable, so I put both my arms around Killian’s neck. I look deeply into his eyes and start talking. “How about we go home now?”

I put emphasis on the word home to let him know, that he is welcome to live there with me now. It was always supposed to be our place after all. Killian and Henry looked for it with the sole intend of asking me to live there with them. It’s the future we never got and now with Killian back from the dead, we’re getting a second chance.

And I’ll intend to make every second count. I don’t want to have any regrets, in case something terrible happens to either of us one day.

“Sure, let’s go to your house.” He says, obviously not getting what I meant.

He begins to pull away to start walking to my car, but I stop him by putting my hand lightly on his arm.

“No, wait.” I smile at him. I secure my arms around him once again. He smiles at me and hugs me close to him, preventing the cold wind from attacking me. “It’s not just my house, you know. I mean you were the one, who chose it after all.” I shrug a little.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Killian has the biggest smile on his face, and he raises his eyebrow. I haven’t seen that in a long time. I really missed that eyebrow. I have to stop myself from touching it with my finger to sort of make fun of him. It’s just kind of adorable.

“Yes. I do have a lot of red leather jackets, but I suppose there is some room for some black leather.” I smirk and give him a little shrug. I press my forehead against his for a moment and then pull away. I look at him with big eyes and a smile. “So, what do you say? Will you move in with me?”

“Of course, I will move in with you, Swan.” He answers quickly. He smiles brightly and lets out a small laugh.

We’re both so happy right now. I just hope that’ll never change again, which is very unlikely. We live in Storybrooke after all. But for now, I don’t care. I’ll just focus on the good moments with my true love.

I smile at him in return, giggling a little bit.

I pull his head down to me by his hair and kiss him passionately. He lifts me up again and holds me close. When our lips part, he keeps me in the air, our foreheads resting against one another’s. “Let’s go home, then, my love.”

I laugh at the sound, which earns me another eyebrow raise.

“What’s so funny, Swan?” Killian almost sounds genuinely worried.

“Nothing. I’m just happy. I never thought I’d say or feel that again, but I am happy. Very happy. It still surprises me sometimes.” I hug Killian tightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek in the process of leaning in. I wrap my legs around his waist to hold him even closer.

Killian keeps me in his arms and carries me off the boat to my bug. He sets me down in front of my car and lifts up my chin with his hook, kissing me softly. I back up, leaning against my bug and Killian follows me automatically, caging me in between his body and the car. My hands wander from his back to the back pockets of his pants. I pull him closer to me. I run my tongue along his bottom lip and deepen the kiss. Then, I bite his lip gently and push him away a little with a big smirk on my face.

“We should go home now, don’t you think?” I smile brightly and Killian gives me an annoyed look in return like ‘Really, Swan?’

I think I hear him mutter bloody minx.

I turn around and open the door of my beloved yellow bug with a victorious smile on my face. I slip inside.

Killian continues to look at me for a few seconds, but then he walks to the passenger side door and gets in the car himself.

“Ready?” I ask him and he instantly gives me a soft smile. He nods.

Then he puts his hand on my leg, drawing small circles along my thighs. I glare at him, but he just smirks.

“Two can play this game, Swan.” He smirks, moving his hand higher up.

“Do you want me to crash the car, tiger?” I put my hand on his and stop it. I’m not going to admit to him, that just that kiss and his hand on my leg drives me insane already.

“Well, you’re not driving right now…So, why not have some fun first?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. He moves his hand further up teasingly.

Two can play this game, I think to myself.

I climb over the gearshift onto his lap. He lets out a surprised gasp. I smile and put my hands in his hair, pulling him to me and kissing him. I roll my hips into his, which makes both of us moan loudly. His hand grips my hip tightly, pressing me even more onto his lap. One of us is definitely starting to have a not so little problem. I smirk, which breaks the kiss.

Killian kisses down my neck and I lean my head back to give him better access. I whimper at every single touch of his lips and tongue. My hips heavily grin into his. I almost get lost in the feelings, until I remember my actual plan.

I sigh – sort of disappointed, but I know I should stick to the plan. We shouldn’t continue this here – in my car in the middle of town. I don’t intend on getting interrupted after all. Or on Henry getting traumatised. He does come here often during breaks in school.

This was just supposed to tease Killian. I just didn’t realize, that it would also affect me this much.

Anyway, I put my hands on Killian’s cheeks and pull him away from my neck. I smile at him with a sort of evil grin and climb back onto my own seat. I don’t even look at him, but I can tell he probably has a funny expression on his face.

“What about continuing the enjoyable activities right now, Swan?” I can practically hear his pout through his voice.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you.” I say and start the car.

We drive off in the bug – still breaking the speed limit in a rush to get home.

We finally get there, and it felt like forever, when in reality it was only a few minutes.

We get out of the car and Killian picks me up again, carrying me to the door bridal style. I lock my arms tightly around his neck.

I chuckle confused. “What the hell are you doing?” I look into his eyes, running my hand along his cheek softly.

“Carrying you over the threshold of our ‘new’ house, of course. I think I saw that in some book about your world, that Belle once gave to me to adjust. There was something about bad luck for anyone who doesn’t…” He says. Now he’s also confused. Killian and modern culture are always so adorable to watch.

“Yeah, it’s a tradition. But this isn’t our wedding day. We’re not married. So, this…” I motion towards his arms carrying me, “…is totally unnecessary.”

“Well, we still live here together from now on. That might count, love.” He sounds very serious about that.

I angle my head and raise my eyebrows at him.

He continues. “We can’t use any more bad luck, Swan. Also, a seafaring man does not take superstitions lightly.” He’s almost angry now.

I chuckle. “Okay, whatever you think.” I peck his lips softly and smile brightly at him. I love him no matter what, even if he’s being silly.

So, I lean my head on his shoulder and let him carry me towards the door. Then I pull out the key from my jacket pocket and try to unlock the door. That isn’t as easy as I thought, but I eventually manage without having to leave the warmth and comfort of Killian’s arms.

My struggles obviously amused my pirate a lot, since he can’t stop laughing softly.

So, I decide to shut him up by crashing my lips onto his in a deep passionate kiss. It’s obviously a surprise to him at first. His legs begin to wobble, and I think we might fall to the ground, but he steadies himself quickly.

Without breaking our kiss, he walks us into the house, moving towards the living room. There, I drop my keys onto the coffee table.

Killian begins to set me down, but I put my hand on his and push it back to my leg.

I break our kiss just long enough to mumble “Upstairs” against his lips. He groans before pressing his lips back onto mine. He tightens his hold on me again and smiles lightly against my lips, making the kiss a little awkward for a second.

I put my hand on his head, so I can run it through his hair.

Then I register, that Killian walks us up the stairs. That’s also when I realize, that he’s never been here before – well here yeah, but not upstairs. So, as soon as we reach the top of the stairs, I take a pause from our kiss to give him directions. We wouldn’t want to end up in Henry’s room now, would we?

“Just go straight ahead to the room at the end of the hall.” I say, not even recognizing my own voice. It’s barely there because of a certain pirate having taken away my breath.

I put my forehead against his and put my hand on his cheek. I stroke his beard with my thumb and use the little timeout to catch my breath. We smile at each other and breathe in each other’s breath.

But soon enough, we dive back into our kiss and Killian walks to our room. I open the door and the instant we’re inside, Killian kicks it closed with his foot.

He sets me down and I push him back into the door. A second later I claim his lips with mine again, but Killian has other plans. He puts his hand and hook on my hips and switches our positions, so that I’m now pressed between the door and his body.

He trails his lips down my neck, lightly biting my collarbone before sucking on it. A moan escapes my mouth. I pull on his hair to reunite our lips.

Then I slip my hands under his leather jacket and push it down his shoulders. I’m honestly surprised he’s still wearing modern clothes after five years in hell. He looks so hot in them, too, so I’m glad. But right now, I’d rather see those clothes on the floor.

So, as soon as his jacket hits the floor, I move my hands towards his shirt. I start unbuttoning it.

All the buttons are undone. I hug him under the shirt and kiss him again as he lets the shirt join his jacket on the floor.

He moves his lips from mine to the place just below my earlobe. I shiver and let out another loud moan. Killian groans into my ear and whispers in a rough voice. “You’re wearing too much, Swan.”

That’s the only warning I get before he takes off my jacket and rips off my shirt with his hook. He unclasps my bra, which he surprisingly is quite good at despite having only one hand and a hook. I let it slide off my arms, onto the ground.

“Someone’s impatient.” I say, pulling off my hair-tie and letting my hair fall around my bare back.

“Could say the same about you, my love. To my defence, there was a bloody minx earlier, who rudely teased me.” He answers as he steps closer again and kisses me like his life depends on it.

Soon enough we’re both completely bare, lying on our bed. Killian hovers over me and looks at me with so much love in his eyes, while softly running his hand over my cheek.

“I love you, Swan, so much. I’ll never leave you ever again.” He kisses me softly.

“I love you, too.” I respond right as Killian hooks one of my legs over his waist and pushes forward. I let out a cry of pleasure. I put my other leg around his waist, too. I dig my heels into his butt, pushing him even deeper into me. That earns me a low groan from Killian.

Our lips hover over one another’s for a moment and we smile. I run my hands over his back, trying to reach every single piece of skin. We look deep into each other’s eyes, but I can barely keep them open. My need for Killian to move is too overwhelming – too intense. It’s been five years.

“Please.” I beg, before pulling Killian’s head down to mine and kissing him passionately. My hands abruptly stop on his back, nails digging into his shoulder blades as he begins to thrust into me. Oh, shit. I moan loudly as he moves his lips to my neck, sucking a mark into the skin just under my collarbone.

I start rocking my hips in time with his and he once again kisses my lips thoroughly.

Soon Killian starts switching between kissing me and whispering into my ear how much he loves and missed me as he moves inside me.

After five long miserable years we’re finally one again and not that long after we’re panting in unison, screaming each other’s names at the top of our lungs.

AN: I want to thank everyone for reading this story. In case you ever want updates on the next chapter or sneak peaks, check out my Instagram story @/hopeduckling13

#a wish come true #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs #cs fanfic #cs ff #cs fic #ouat #once upon a time

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dr-gloom · 5 years

Text

The Makings of Greatness: Chapter 10

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: platonic logince, platonic moxiety, platonic anxeit, familial ThVi

Tags/Warnings (for this chapter): violence, betrayal, deceit, mutiny

Ko-fi

AO3

Masterlist

Prologue Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13 Ch 14 Ch 15 Ch 16 Ch 17

“There it is!”

“Oh my god….”

“Look at it…”

Just past a group of dark clouds, Treasure Planet looms in the green light of one of its rings. Asteroids float idly by, the ship effortlessly maneuvering past them closer to the planet. The crew rush to the trim, gripping it with excited hands as they take in the sight of the fabled planet. Declan reaches into his coat pocket for his telescope, but it’s not there. Strange… He checks his other pocket. Not there either. He must have left it in the galley.

Virgil climbs out of the barrel on shaky legs, steadying himself with a hand on one of the tables. His fingers brush a golden telescope, sending it rolling a few inches. Declan’s telescope. Virgil’s heart squeezes painfully at the sight.

He turns away from it and runs across the galley, making it halfway up the stairs before someone blocks his path. He freezes and looks up, coming face-to-face with Declan on his way down.

“Virge….” Declan looks back to the deck to make sure the crew are preoccupied before making his way down the stairs, effectively forcing Virgil to walk backwards back into the galley. He smiles. “Playing games with Morph again?” He keeps walking, Virgil never taking his eyes off him and backing himself into a table.

“Yeah, playing games.”

His tone is scathing, his glare piercing, and Declan understands. He must have heard the conversation. A part of him wants to reassure Virgil that it was all lies, that he hadn’t meant any of it, but a larger part of him is screaming at him that he has to take care of this, get Virgil out of the way before he blows Declan’s cover. “Oh. I see… I always hated games. Not a very good loser…” Behind him, his hand retreats into his arm to be replaced with a gun. He cocks it.

Virgil reaches behind himself blindly, fingers curling around a leftover knife from breakfast. “Yeah… me too!” He lunges forward, driving the knife into the accordion part of Declan’s leg and shooting past him up the stairs. Declan cries out in pain and grabs his leg, air hissing out around the blade. He stumbles up the stairs, his robotic eye searching manically for the teen.

It skirts over the crewmen, zooming in and out, switching between looking for heat signatures and focusing in on normal vision. He looks clear across the deck to the other end of the ship, his eye homing in on movement and zooming in just in time to see a frantic, scared Virgil shutting and locking the door to the captain’s stateroom.

“Dammit…” Declan scrambles to his feet, gripping his leg before forcing himself to stand erect and letting out a loud whistle. “Change of plans, men! We move. Now!”

The crew let out excited whoops and hollers, set into motion. Crewmen rush down the shrouds, slide down ropes, and race across the deck to reach their weapons. “Raise our flag, Mr. Onus!” The lookout solutes Declan, grinning.

“Aye, captain!”

He brings Roman’s flag down, replacing it with their own; a black flag with a fanged skull, bordered by two planetary belts in an X. A pirate flag.

The crewmen race up the steps to the stateroom, where Virgil, Logan, and Roman are locked inside. Roman opens his armoire, expression grave as he grabs a solar gun. “Pirates,” he snarls, “I’ll see them all hang.” He turns the safety off the gun and tosses it to Logan. “Familiar with these?” Logan fumbles to catch it and holds it like he’s scared it’ll explode. “Ah, I’ve seen… I’ve read…” His finger slips over the trigger and it fires, shattering Roman’s globe-shaped map. “Ah, no. No I’m not.” Roman sighs, bringing out the orb. “Mr. Shae, defend this with your life.” He tosses it to Virgil, but Morph catches it in midair and flits away with it.

“Morph! Gimme that!” He grabs for it, fighting with Morph for a moment before Morph lets it go. Virgil stuffs it in his pocket.

The lock on the door starts glowing red. The pirates on the other side must be melting it with solar guns.

Declan shoves the men aside, scowling. “You’re taking too long. Idiots.” He hooks up his arm to a solar canon attached to his thigh and only takes a brief moment to charge before he’s firing it at the door, the wood splintering deafeningly and the metal lock and handle mangling, red-hot. Declan and his men storm into the room through the smoke, pausing just inside the doorway to wait for it to clear.

The room is empty, a hole blasted in the floor, and Declan swears. He grabs the nearest crewman and shoves him towards the hole, snarling, “After them!”

Deep in the ship’s interior, far past the barracks and stateroom, Virgil, Roman, and Logan race through the innards of the ship. The inner mechanisms of the ship don’t look too different from that of a normal ship’s, with large pipes twisting and turning in all directions along the walls, boilers and other machines necessary for the ship’s function, and a thin catwalk in the middle to guide them through. The three men pass the entryway into another section of the ship and look back to see several crewmen racing after them. Roman’s heart leaps into his throat and he grips the switch to the door, flipping it to shut just in time before the crewman can cross the threshold and using his solar gun to melt the lock. It won’t be permanent, but it will buy them a little time.

“We need to get to the skiffs!”

The three men race the remaining way to the skiffs, Virgil knowing the route from the time he came down here with Declan, and Logan following close behind. Virgil stumbles to a stop next to one of the skiffs and climbs in, grabbing the rope and already starting to untie it and lower the skiff. Roman pulls the lever to open up the underbelly of the ship and runs for the skiff, jumping in. A thundering boom echoes down the hall; the pirates must have gotten past the door.

Morph glances at the orb poking out of Virgil’s pocket and grins, snatching it in his mouth and flitting away. Virgil startles and tries to grab for him. “Morph, no!”

Morph flits back over to the catwalk and Virgil leaps out of the skiff to follow, scrambling to his hands and knees. The crewmen make it to the skiff room and Roman opens fire to buy themselves more time. Being five against one, he’s quickly becoming outnumbered by heavy fire. Logan swallows his heart back into his chest and stands, aiming his own gun at some giant metal structure in the ceiling. He fires, by some miracle hitting it, and the structure falls to the catwalk, shattering the wood under the crewmen’s feet and sending them plummeting through the ship’s open underbelly. Roman blinks in surprise.

“Did you actually aim for that?”

Logan scoffs. “Of course I did.”

A solar shot is fired in their direction and Roman tackles Logan down. Declan reaches the controls and flips the switch; the underbelly begins to close. Roman swears and turns to Logan. “Doctor, when I give the word, shoot out the forward cable. I’ll take the other.” Logan nods, adjusting the grip on his gun.

Virgil chases Morph around the remaining catwalks, jumping desperately to grab him where he flits around just out of Virgil’s reach. “Morph, come on, give it back! Please!” His desperate tone draws Declan’s attention, and he sees the orb Morph is holding in his mouth. He grins.

“Morph!” Morph turns to look at him, his little butt wagging. “Morph, come here.”

Virgil’s heart skips a beat and he forces a fun smile on his face, waving Morph closer. “Morph, come on, bring it here.”

“Come on Morph, come to dad!”

“Come here, Morph!” Virgil whistles like he’s calling to a dog.

“Come on Morphy! Come here!”

Morph whips back and forth, looking between both men, conflicted. He dives into a pile of rope with the orb.

Declan goes to make a run for it, but his leg gives out on him and he groans, falling to his knees. He grips his robotic thigh as he scoots himself closer desperately.

Virgil scrambles to his feet and races across the catwalk, managing to grab the orb just before Declan can reach in and take it, pausing to stare at him wide-eyed for only a moment before running for the skiff. Declan lets out an enraged cry, raising his gun and aiming, sights locked on Virgil.

He lowers the gun, gritting his teeth.

“Now!”

Virgil jumps for the skiff. Roman and Logan each shoot at one of the pulley’s cables, snapping the rope and breaking the metal wheels. The skiff falls, smacking into the still-closing underbelly and sliding out through the remaining gap before continuing to fall.

The jolt in the skiff’s movement offsets Virgil’s projection and he scrambles to grab onto the trim, legs kicking. “Virgil!” Logan lunges forward and grabs Virgil by his shirt, hauling him into the skiff as Roman pulls the lever to release the solar sail.

The sail unfurls and immediately starts to take in light energy. Roman sits and grabs the controls, directing them towards Treasure Planet.

On the ship, the crewman in charge of the light canon gets ready to aim, locking onto the skiff. Declan rushes to stop him, gripping at the machine. “Hold your fire! We’ll lose the map!” It’s too late, though; the blast is released and it hits the back of the skiff, offset by Declan’s pulling. Roman cries out as the back of the skiff splinters, the thruster taking damage and the wood of the craft flying in every direction. The back of the skiff and the sail catch fire and the skiff’s trajectory stutters, dropping them a few feet before continuing forward. The sail burns up, leaving nothing powering the skiff.

Roman grits his teeth against the pain in his side and grabs the controls, fighting with the damaged machinery to guide the skiff into anything but a nosedive. The craft rapidly descends towards the planet, crashing through the indigenous foliage - large puke-green mushrooms with incredibly long stalks. Virgil and Logan are sent toppling over onto their sides, letting out twin cries of shock. The craft’s stem hits the ground and they flip, skidding for several yards before finally coming to a stop, then all is still.

Taglist: @the5thcoy @dailysandersidesaudoodles @hungry-red-panda @neonb-fly @chemically-imbalanced-romance @punsterterry @dead4sevenyears @metaphoricalpluto2 @tanyatoloni1334

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #treasure planet au

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romanyeva · 2 years

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I posted 1,083 times in 2021

9 posts created (1%)

1074 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 119.3 posts.

I added 720 tags in 2021

#haha - 135 posts

#dick grayson - 130 posts

#jason todd - 96 posts

#fan art - 76 posts

#gif set - 66 posts

#writing - 55 posts

#nightwing - 54 posts

#a string of beaded words - 38 posts

#bruce wayne - 37 posts

#batman - 33 posts

Longest Tag: 110 characters

#so unless samdean art is going to turn viewers into instant royalty who need to model the divine here on earth

My Top Posts in 2021

Because of two random gif sets that crossed my dash, I have now binged both seasons of Ted Lasso and am now looking for keeley/roy/jaime OT3 fic on AO3.

What even is this hellsite?

2 notes • Posted 2021-11-13 21:21:55 GMT

Happy International Romani Language Day! Bahtalo Romano Chabako Dives!

2 notes • Posted 2021-11-05 22:25:41 GMT

For someone who’s probably demi, Dick Grayson does seem to be DC fandom’s little black dress. And I’m totally here for it.

4 notes • Posted 2021-10-08 01:52:03 GMT

So are we ever going to talk about how Jason Todd went from certified Superman stan to straight-up Superman paranoia?

Superman stan Jason Todd (this is post-crisis, tire-booster Jay, btw) meeting Superman (Action Comics # 594):

[Lots of scans under the cut]

Aww, sweet, right? 💖✨

Now here’s Jason Todd, Red Hood, full of Superman dislike and paranoia, with a hefty side of Clark not liking Jason either and remembering his Robin-time as only ‘you saved my life once’ - because N52 and Lobdell, amirite? (Red Hood and the Outlaws vol. 1 # 14)

I wonder if that autograph is still at Wayne Manor? Or if somehow it made it onto Jason’s memorabilia shelf? (Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth # 1)

Naw, DC probably threw it in the garbage with everything else that doesn’t quite mesh with current canon.

10 notes • Posted 2021-11-22 05:11:17 GMT

So they hooked up headcanon

So I kind of headcanon that Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen had a small and slightly flirtatious, but not really sexual, rivalry going on during their jet-set prep school days. They knew each other but not really well since they lived on different coasts most of the time.

Well, post-grad, they bump into each other in Europe. Bruce is gearing up to train for his Mission and Ollie is just there to be there. So bi-curious Ollie and I-don’t-believe-in-labels Bruce hook up because why not? But what was just supposed to be a one-time eh whatever bang turns into breakfast and conversation where they find out that they have similar itineraries and maybe they can just continue on to the next place together. And this just keeps...happening? Like they don’t plan it, but Bruce finds that he kind of enjoys Ollie’s snarky commentary, which is so unlike Alfred’s dry wit because it just has this bright sparkle to it. And Ollie finds that Bruce has this sleek and dangerous air that’s enticing because it’s not devoid of compassion. They travel well together, and they bang all the time because they’re young. And they just physically fit because Bruce is innovative and Ollie is adventurous.

So their hookup just extends and becomes a dedicated one. They might separate for a few days - do other things and other people - but they just find each other again and travel on to the next place.

This happens for well over a month, bordering dangerously close to two. It’s a thing. It’s certainly not romance - because that would mean fling and feelings - and it’s not friendship, but it’s not just sex either. Because a short time into it, they start telling each other some deep, personal shit that they would never tell their friends or their flings. They have a thing which starts to get uncomfortable for both of them because they just keep at it?

They’re about three or four days and one town away from oops falling into a relationship. So they both decide to untangle their itineraries and go their separate ways. They lose each other’s contact info and no hard feelings.

Which is fine, right?

EXCEPT! Years later, they’re sitting across from each other at the League meeting table and it’s MORTIFYING. They recognize each other instantly - even had their suspicions before - because they knew each other that well. And they have PHILOSOPHICAL differences now. They GET on each other’s NERVES.

And they’re BOTH terrified that the other one is going to TELL people that they used to BANG and even worse WHISPER things to each other. Like they even HELD HANDS a few times because they were young and stupid and why not because they were in the middle of a THING.

Bruce is convinced Ollie’s bragged about BAGGING the BAT to someone so he growls and gets intimidating for no freaking reason and Ollie just barks back for no freaking reason either because Bruce is so authoritative and close to being THE MAN. And Ollie battles THE MAN because politics and he doesn’t BANG the MAN. How embarrassing!

And they never mention it. Not once. Not to each other, not to anyone.

This would be HYSTERICAL. I amuse myself

13 notes • Posted 2021-10-26 00:16:00 GMT

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#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sure why not #tw long post

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grimmseye · 6 years

Text

The Only One — Part 4

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Kirishima Eijirou&Ashido Mina

Characters: Bakuou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina

Other Tags: Kirishima’s Family, Shaming Kirishima’s Wardrobe, Mentions of Homophobia

(Chapter One) (Previous Chapter) (Read on Ao3)

— — — —

He doesn’t entirely appreciate the look on Bakugou’s face. A dubious, judgemental sort of expression, regarding the two candles in Kirishima’s hands as he sets them on his nightstand.

“Cinnamon bliss,” Bakugou reads. The smirk is audible in his voice. Kirishima isn’t amused, giving him a flat look as he tried — and failed — to light a match. He sighed, discarding it and taking a new one to try again.

“Don’t laugh,” Kirishima grumbles. “Those things are expensive . It shouldn’t cost that much money to melt wax.”

“Then don’t buy them, dumbass.” Bakugou rolls his eyes, grabbing the matchbox from Kirishima’s hands and lighting his on the first try. He holds the tiny flame to each wick until they catch, shaking the match out to drop it in the trash can.

In Kirishima’s opinion, the candles are actually a nice addition. They’re a deep red, matching the rest of his room, and the glow of the twin flames is warm. Passionate, manly. He thinks he might have to look into getting more in the future. “I got them for you,” he points out.

Bakugou looks up, brows furrowed into a grimace. “I never told you to go out and get some shitty candles. I said your room smells like sweat.”

“Well, yeah,” Kirishima admits. That had been more than a little embarrassing. It wasn’t just Bakugou, either — when he’d wrangled Sero and Kaminari into the argument, they both had reluctantly agreed. Apparently working out in his room gives it that nice workout smell, and that was why Bakugou has always been so adamant they study in his room. “But, apparently your room is off limits, and you already got us banned from the school library, so what else am I supposed to do?”

It doesn’t deign a response from Bakugou. He just snorts and shakes his head, apparently done with this conversation. It’s what he’d been doing for a week now, clamming up the moment Kirishima mentioned his sudden ban. And Kirishima doesn’t press it. It’s not like he doesn’t already have a decent idea of why . Their beds are pressed against the same wall, he can hear Bakugou cry out at night. Can smell the smoke when he passes by his closed door in the morning. But if Bakugou doesn’t want to talk, it’s his business.

Though, maybe it’s a little bit hurtful, knowing that Bakugou doesn’t trust him enough to share his troubles.

They settle in. Today it’s math, which means Bakugou drilling him with formulas until he’ll be dreaming of them, solving each problem step by step, sweating as Bakugou goes back over his work with a red pen, repeating this again and again until his marks come back perfect.

The ones that are just numbers are fine, now. He knows what to do. If he can slow down and keep his head, Kirishima thinks he can pass the exam just fine.

Then he gets to the word problems. Reads them, blinks, reads them again. Brow furrows. It doesn’t make sense.

“Um,” he looks to Bakugou for help. Red eyes glare back at him, and Kirishima drops his gaze, teeth worrying his lower lip. He needs to solve for the distance. How is he supposed to…?

Kirishima can feel Bakugou’s gaze on him, and it just makes his heart wrack up in his chest. Bakugou was number three in their class — Kirishima must seem like an idiot in comparison. His teeth prick into his skin, heat flushing over his cheeks. It’s humiliating. He can’t process the words on a paper to figure out what to do. Can’t even think of step one.

“Kirishima.” He glances up, shoulders hunching. He expects a scowl, but Bakugou’s face is calm, his eyes containing a dim light. “Calm the fuck down. If you freak out, you’re not going to be able to think.” He jabs Kirishima’s forehead. “What are you solving for?”

Kirishima takes a breath. He checks the problem, just to be sure, before he answers. “The distance between A and B.”

“Right. And what do they give you?”

A diagram. There are numbers written on it. “The distance between B and C,” he says. “And an angle…”

“And what can you do with that? Come on, we went over this just two days ago.”

He wracks his brain. Kirishima tries to shut out his anxieties, just focusing on what he has. It’s fine, Bakugou’s not looking down on him, he’s waiting patiently for Kirishima to follow his guide. He just needs to breathe, and think.

And then it clicks. Kirishima dives down, excitement spiking in his chest as he scrawls out his work, snagging his calculator and plugging in the numbers twice before he presents his solution to Bakugou.

The moment Bakugou’s lips tic up, Kirishima feels relief sweep over him. “See?” Bakugou says, smug, like this is somehow his victory. “You’ve actually got some brains between all that hair.”

And, god, Kirishima could hug him. He nearly does, a heartbeat away from flinging his arms around Bakugou and gushing his appreciation. He restrains himself, though, only bouncing in his seat and giving Bakugou a delighted smile. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you,” he breathes, running his fingers through his hair. It’s combed back beneath a headband, keeping his hair out of his face and concealing his roots — he needs to re-dye it soon.

Bakugou snorts. “You’d do just fine, as long as you can calm down for two goddamn seconds.”

“I don’t think so.” Kirishima looks over the paper, his smile faded but still present. “The way you explain things always makes so much more sense.”

Bakugou’s response is dubious: “Then how the fuck did you get into UA?” Kirishima looks up, meeting Bakugou’s raised brow. “That test isn’t easy. Even dunces like Sparky and Blackeyes have to be above the rest to pass.”

Kirishima rubs the back of his neck, shrugging. “That was different,” he explains. “I had months to study. And practice exams, and all sorts of interviews from previous students. And I still only barely passed the written. I’m pretty sure it was the physical evaluation that saved me.”

And god, that had been a giddy high he’d ridden for miles. Scoring second in the trial to enter the hero course, right behind Bakugou himself. Thinking, at the time, that maybe he had been ahead of the curve. It was a fantasy that had been swiftly crushed by the end of term, only to surface again during his internships, to be beaten back down by Rappa’s fists — maybe next time, he would check himself before he got a big head. Couldn’t fall so far if he never got too high in the first place.

“How did Crimson Riot debut?”

The question is unprompted. Kirishima tilts his head, answering, “In the fight against Staker. He was at a disadvantage because of his quirk, but he still won… Why?”

“That.” Bakugou cups his chin, his eyes on the textbook in front of him. “I didn’t know that. You did. Does that mean you’re smarter than me? No.”

Kirishima grimaces at him, muttering, “Wow, thanks.”

“Shut up, I’m not done.” Bakugou glowers. “You know things I don’t. That doesn’t make you smart, or make me an idiot. Same for this shit. Just cause you’re not great at putting numbers together doesn’t mean you’re more or less intelligent than everybody else. You know what your strengths are, and you try to improve your weaknesses.” He fans his fingers out towards Kirishima’s work, finally lifting his eyes.

Kirishima’s heart squeezes deep in his chest. He drops his gaze, now, smiling. “Thanks,” he murmurs.

A scoff. “The fuck did I do?”

Kirishima only hums, reaching for his paper again to get started on the next problem.

Kirishima exchanges seventeen hugs before he leaves at the end of term, one for each of his classmates, plus Tetsutetsu, with three exceptions:

Mineta, whom he doesn’t particularly want to touch.

Ashdio, whose hug is postponed due to the fact that they’re taking the same train.

Bakugou, who wouldn’t want that kind of contact.

It’s two days before Christmas. Spirits are high — he already hears Midoriya inviting Todoroki out with Iida and Uraraka, Kaminari sidling up to Jirou to “casually” ask what she’s doing for the holiday. He laughs when she informs him that she’ll be spending the day with Momo, alone, giving him a sympathetic pat on the back when he droopily returns to their group.

“Why don’t we all hang out,” Kirishima suggests. “We can go to a temple, or maybe sledding!” That one gets him excited.

Agreement comes quickly, and he turns to Bakugou, his breath puffing out in a cheerful fog. “How about it? Come with us!”

His offer makes Kaminari tense, but Kirishima ignores it. Whatever spat there is between him and Bakugou will have to be pushed aside. They’re still friends, difficulty aside.

“No,” Bakugou responds. His eyes are flat, uninterested. “You fuckers want to dick around in the cold, be my guest. I’ll pass.”

“Come on,” Sero tries, cajoling. “You’re not afraid of a little snow, are you?” His grin is wide.

Bakugou’s head whips around, glaring. “I said no,” he growls out. He turns again, already stalking away. Unlike the rest of them, he actually lives in Musutafu, has no trains to take on his way home.

“Bakugou!” Kirishima calls out, his heart leaping into his throat. Bakugou pauses, cranes his face over his shoulder, and Kirishima smiles and waves, “Have a good break!”

He gets only a roll of Bakugou’s head as he continues on his way, but he lifts his arm in a lazy arc, a farewell.

“What a dick,” Kaminari snorts.

“I dunno,” Ashido hums, “seems like he was actually being friendly.” She grins down at her phone, a moment before her eyes go wide. “Oh, shit! Kirishima, we gotta go!”

It’s not really a terrible thing to miss a train, but he’d rather not wait for the next. Besides, jogging their way to the station gets his blood pumping. The two of them are flushed in the face and laughing as they hop on board, the last to arrive before the train departs for home.

Pulling away, Kirishima is filled with an odd sensation. Can one feel nostalgia for something they still have? He already misses his class, thinking wistfully of what it might have been like to spend the holiday with them all.

Eventually, he pulls his eyes away from the window to face Ashido. “So, my moms invited you over for dinner,” Kirishima says, offhand. He waves his phone as proof, a text from his Ma asking exactly that.

He expects the light that brightens in Ashido’s eyes. “Really?” She gushes. “ Aaaaah , that’s so sweet. I love your moms, Kiri.” She gives a relieved little laugh, one hand settling against her chest. “And I thought I’d be having dinner alone tonight. My parents are out of town again, you know. It’s so quiet at home.”

Kirishima hopes his sadness doesn’t peek through when he gives her a smile. “Yeah,” he agrees, “you told me before. But hey, bright side! If your parents aren’t home, they won’t know that you’re hanging out with me.”

Their amusement stems more from resignation than anything. Ashido gives a sigh, going, “Yeah, I’ll just tell them I’m hanging out with another friend, so they don’t call the house and freak out.” Her face shifts into a grimace.

Kirishima loves coming home. He feels a pang that Ashido can't say the same.

His house is modest, a one-story with a broad window in the front. He kind of wants to break into a run, abruptly realizing just how much he's missed home. His pace kicks up, something that isn't missed by Ashido judging by her quiet laugh. He only grins, jogging the rest of the way to the porch to knock on the door.

There's a shout of, “Ei’s home!”

His heart swells until it feels like it will burst from his chest. The lock turns, the door opens, and his Ma gives him an enormous grin before she crushes him into a hug.

At first glance, most would guess that Keiko is his biological mother. She's built like him, as tall as the average man with wide set shoulders and a toned physique. It's makes their embrace into a game of who can hug the other hardest, Kirishima tapping out when the breath squeezes out of his lungs. He laughs as he steps back, getting a good look at his Ma.

“Your hair!” He gasps, delighted.

It's been dyed a darker red than his own, cropped shorter, too. She puts her hands on her hips, grinning. “What can I say? I'm a huge Red Riot fan.”

He snorts, covering half of his face and grateful when she refocuses with an exclaim of, “Mina!” His Ma’s exuberance can be overwhelming to some, but he's never been embarrassed of her.

Ashido greets his Ma with a hug of her own, significantly lighter than Kirishima’s. “It's so good to see you!” Keiko says, when they part. Only a moment later she’s ushering them through the door. “Alright, everyone inside. Your mom is cooking dinner right now, Ei.”

They venture into the kitchen. Despite his ma saying cooking, his mom doesn't actually appear too occupied with such a task. A large pan is simmering on the stove, the rice cooker on the counter, and his mom is kneeling down as she wipes his little sister’s face.

“Guess who?” His ma announces, catching their attention. His mom straightens up, a smile breaking across her face. Before he can say a word, there's a cry: “Eicchan!”

Kirishima feels seconds from getting teary-eyed as he stoops down to hug his little sister. He straightens up with her arms around his neck, laughing at how she excitedly screams and kicks at his chest. “Hey there, Michiko,” he says, warmth brimming in his voice. “You didn't forget me?”

Her tiny hands brace on his cheeks. He holds her out, letting her pap her fingers over his face, holding back more laughter. He has to close his eyes to avoid getting poked as she jabs at his scar, like she needs to confirm he is, in fact, exactly who he appears to be.

Michiko takes greatly after their mom, the same way Kirishima did. Black hair and red eyes — he has yet to find out if her permanent teeth will grow in sharp as well.

He holds her against his chest, Michiko content to stay wrapped around him like a monkey as Kirishima greets his mom with a one-armed hug — light so as to avoid crushing the child between them.

They enter his home, and Michiko eventually kicks him until he puts her down so she can fawn over Ashido (“She’s changed her favorite color to pink,” his mom tells him. It had been green when he last talked to her) and Kirishima can get dishes out for his ma to serve rice and curry. They talk, and laugh, and when they insist on helping clean up his moms just usher him upstairs because it’s his first day home for break and he’s with a friend, regardless.

In his room, he and Ashido compete for his DS — he left it at home the last time he was here — a battle which he loses when Ashido somehow gets him in a stranglehold with her leg and she cackles as she feeds all his beloved pokemon for him.

“You named your Typhlosion Katsuki ,” she notes, eyebrows raising.

And Kirishima kicks her, says, “I have one for all of you guys.” Ashido’s is a pink Gastrodon and Sero’s a Carnivine (“they don’t have any tape pokemon!”) and Kaminari’s is, of course, a Pikachu.

And even as she sits on his chest and challenges strangers online and uses up all his hyper potions, Kirishima is laughing. Eventually she pulls out her phone, Kirishima playing dead while she snaps a photo of herself victorious over him and sends it to everyone in their class. His own phone buzzes, Kaminari and Sero complaining about not being invited, Kirishima reminding them they’re meant to get together for Christmas regardless.

He tells himself it doesn’t particularly matter that Bakugou is silent, even though Ashido tells him he got their pictures.

The end of the year comes and goes. Ashido comes with his family to visit a temple, the five of them listening to the loud tolls of the bell. He looks down at his phone, the group chat that is alight with celebration. Kirishima opens up Bakugou’s chat to wish him a happy new year. It’s the first message he’s sent him since the break began.

On the drive back home, Ashido is quiet. Kirishima nudges her with an arm, says, “You told your parents you’re with Chisa, right? Ask if you can sleep over.” Because it’s kind of a miserable thing, to drop Ashido off half past midnight a block away from her home — all so that her parents don’t realize she was actually with the gay redhead in her class and his moms.

He’s not the only one she spends time with. Ashido’s still a popular girl, even if she doesn’t go to school with all her old friends. But, of all the many people she knows, she seems to stay with him the most. A lot has changed since middle school.

It’s a relief for him as well. He loves his family, and he’s missed them terribly, but being at home he suddenly realizes how quiet things are. His moms have work and his little sister is so often at a friend’s house, and that leaves Kirishima to his own devices.

He trains in his room. He goes on runs. He takes his sister to the park. He texts his friends. He catches up on shows he’s stopped watching. He does anything and everything to keep his mind occupied.

Break is only two weeks, but it feels like ages. He can’t wait to get back to the dorms. He can’t wait to have all of his friends just a door’s knock away.

Kirishima sends out a group text: Ashido, Sero, Kaminari, Bakugou. They should hang out. They could see a movie. They could stay the night at his house.

Sero can’t come. Kaminari can.

Bakugou is silent.

Hurt is beginning to mutate into worry. It crawls around in his chest cavity, squirming and sharp, the needle legs of many insects on the inside of his ribs.

‘Hey’ he types. It’s right below the ‘ HAPPY NEW YEAR!! :D’ from days before.

A beat. Then he tries again.

K: I thought we could hang out. U know, everyone

K: Or even just us two if u dont want a whole group

K: Or not at all thats fine

K: U just havent responded to me all break

K: Im kind of worried man

K: Did something happen?

K: Did i do something?

B: No.

K: !!

K: Hey!!

K: Was that a no to hanging out or no to being mad

B: Both.

K: Oh good

K: I mean the being mad part

K: U sure u dont want to hang out?

B: Yeah.

K: Ur chatty today

K: Thats fine tho

K: I just

He stops. Kirishima’s thumbs hover over his phone screen.

B: Just what?

K: Miss you

K: Sorry.

K: Im being clingy arent i haha

K: So. Yeah.

He sighs, turning his phone over and covering his face. He shouldn’t have said anything.

A minute later, his phone buzzes again. He swallows the apprehension in his throat, turning the phone over the same way someone would a rock when they expect a scorpion to be underneath it.

B: What day are you fuckers meeting?

Kirishima feels his chest tighten. He breathes out, a rasp of a laugh. In his excitement, he immediately switches to their group chat, happily sharing that Bakugou is coming, asking the others when they want to get together.

Kaminari cancels.

Kirishima and Ashido meet Bakugou at the train station. He’s bundled up to outrageous extremes, the two of them bursting into laughter at the state of him: a poofy coat and boots and a scarf wound up over his mouth, red nose poking out from above the black material. He imagines this is what a mummy would look like, if mummies lived in the snow.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, but the muffled quality to his voice only makes them laugh harder.

“So,” Ashido says, after the dangerous glint in Bakugou’s eyes gets them to hush up, “I can’t stay all day, cause my friend’s got a birthday party. It’s not until evening, though, so you boys are in luck.”

The audible grinding of Bakugou’s teeth makes Kirishima wince.

They end up dragging him off to the mall, for lack of anything else to do. No movies out, too cold to hang around outside. This way they can walk and talk, and pretend like they’re actually doing something.

Only, Ashido apparently came here with a plan. She drags them into a store, turning to Bakugou and pointing decisively at Kirishima. “We,” she announces, “are going to show him how to dress himself.”

Kirishima gapes. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

Two sets of eyes run over him: a bright red Crimson Riot shirt, an orange coat over his blue jeans. Vibrant colors, passionate and manly. He looks great .

Bakugou’s lips thin. “Right,” he says, nodding slowly.

Betrayed, Kirishima sulks in the corner of the store while they apparently shop around for him. His pouting doesn’t last, brightening the moment Mina runs for him brandishing a leather jacket that is admittedly pretty badass.

He doesn’t actually buy much of what they pick out for him, doesn’t have the money to do that. Kirishima is wearing Mina’s chosen jacket and purchased a beanie that Bakugou had thrown in his face. The rest of his money goes to buying himself lunch — alongside one other item.

Ashido walks out with a new pair of boots. Bakugou has nothing. They part ways there, Ashido giving Kirishima a hug and Bakugou the finger as she leaves, all in good fun even as Bakugou cusses after her.

“Lousy bitch,” he rumbles, arms crossing as he sits at the bus stop. The moment they stepped outside, his nose had begun to redden. He’s good competition for Rudolph, now.

“Man,” Kirishima muses, reaching over to tweak the shell of one ear, “you really aren't good in the cold, huh?”

“It's bullshit,” he says. He pulls his scarf back up over his mouth, his next words coming out muffled. “Can't warm up fast enough when I use my quirk.”

His quirk. Kirishima blinked, a small, “ Ooooh,” leaving him. “That's right, you need to sweat to use it.” He feels sympathetic, but can't help his smile. Kirishima pulls his bag into his lap, pulling his other purchase out for Bakugou. “Well, I think you'll appreciate this, then.”

Bakugou stares at it. It's a knit hat, black. There's a little pompom ball on top, a burnt shade of orange. “It made me think of your hero costume,” he explains, somewhat embarrassed. “But at least you can keep your ears warm. As long as you want it, I mean.”

Bakugou blinks at him, wide-eyed. It lasts only a second before his default glower returns, and he snatches the hat from Kirishima to jam it on his head. His bangs fluff out over his forehead, the material pulled snug over the tops of his ears. It’s probably the cutest thing in his entire wardrobe, now.

Bakugou looks ahead at the road, his expression betraying no joy nor dissatisfaction. The fact he's wearing the hat in the first place warms Kirishima. Bakugou is not the type to do what he doesn't want.

His posture is tense, though. His hands are stuffed into his armpits, hunched in against the cold. Kirishima pauses for a long moment, and then takes the plunge.

He tugs one of Bakugou’s hands free, ignores the wild look it gets him as he holds it between his own. “It’ll keep your hand warm,” he explains. It’s already warming him up, color blooming over his cheeks.

All in all, this is completely unnecessary. Bakugou can keep his own hands protected, and yet he doesn’t pull away. Just scoffs and turns his head, the two of them going quiet as they wait for the bus.

Steadily, the scoot closer together. Just a little bit at a time, until their legs touch and their sides are flush. To share warmth, Kirishima tells himself.

He doesn’t believe it.

Bakugou’s already met his moms, and his sister. The little girl smiles the moment she spots him, exclaiming, “ Bam!”

( “This is Bakugou,” Kirishima had said, when he first introduced him. “He can make explosions. You know…” He brings his hands together in a loud clap, miming an explosion. “Bam!”)

“No,” Bakugou tells her, voice flat. “Bakugou. Ba-ku-gou.”

“Bam!”

He growls. There’s not even an ounce of anger behind it.

“She wants you to pick her up,” Kirishima tells him, noticing how his sister is reaching her arms up. When Bakugou’s face turns into one of wariness, Kirishima does it himself, lifting the girl up and holding her out the way one might a teddy bear. She’s essentially weightless to Kirishima. “Go on,” he urges.

As gingerly as one might take a delicate treasure, Bakugou goes to hold his baby sister. Michiko does most of the work, clinging to him like a koala bear. All he has to do is support her weight. When he gets comfortable, and the tension slides from his shoulders, he begins to look almost… does Kirishima dare think affectionate?

It’s a mistake on Kirishima’s part, cause seeing Bakugou holding his baby sister is doing awful things to his heart.

Luckily, it’s evening. Michiko doesn’t take long to fall asleep, her head resting on Bakugou’s shoulder. He’s careful with her, expression something both cautious and soft as he lays her in her bed, gentle so as not to wake her.

Kirishima is the one to pull the blankets up around her, switching on her night light before he steps outside, leaving her bedroom door open. His own is right next to Michiko’s.

“You’re okay with sharing the bed, right?” He checks.

Bakugou pauses. Then nods.

And Kirishima grins, says, “I thought so. I mean, it’s not like it’s the first time. Though, circumstances were a little different.” When he gets no response, a twist of nerves hits his guts. “So, um. It’s a decently sized bed. If I get, y’know, clingy in my sleep, you can just push me off, or —”

“— It’s fine,” Bakugou interrupts.

He blinks. “Huh?”

And Bakugou only stares at the floor. His jaw flexes. “I said it’s fine. If you get clingy.”

“But…” Kirishima’s head tips. “You said you don’t like to be touched?”

There’s no response for that. Bakugou just sighs, sinking down on the bed and pulling out his phone. Kirishima always wonders what he’s doing on there. He’s not one to make accounts for social media, after all, but maybe he still browses. Is he looking at their friends? Did he see Kirishima’s, the pictures he’d been posting all week? Seeing them, and never saying a word.

“Hey, Bakugou.”

There’s a grunt.

“Why weren’t you talking to me?”

He waits. Counts his heartbeats.

“Bakugou?"

Kirishima turns his head. His friend has put his phone down, eyes fixed on the wall. His breath comes in swells of his chest, deep, controlled.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” Kirishima sighs. “I just. I’m worried, you know, that you were angry. Or that you just didn’t want to talk to me.”

Bakugou gives a quiet groan. He falls back, the mattress bouncing. “Everything’s about you, huh?”

That stings a little. But Bakugou continues carelessly on, “I just didn’t have shit to say. You send me a fuckton of photos and — what? What were you expecting me to tell you?”

When it’s put like that, Kirishima doesn’t know. “I mean, nothing, I guess,” he mumbles. “I just wanted to show you. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Show me what a grand fucking time you’re having while I’m at home.”

Kirishima’s fingers curl inwards. His teeth clench. “That’s not fair.” Bakugou pushes himself up, a questioning note in his voice, and Kirishima turns to face him. “You can’t just — I’m not trying to rub it in. We asked if you wanted to come! I just wanted you to see…”

“What I’m missing out on?” Bakugou sneers.

And Kirishima growls, “ No. Just, that we’re having fun. You’re our friend, right, so I thought maybe it would make you happy to see us? You might care whether or not we’re having fun over break?” It’s a thought which he is quickly abandoning. He knows he and Bakugou aren’t the same. They function in near opposites. Bakugou likes to be alone, and Kirishima needs company. That’s fine. He can work with that.

He just can’t really figure out the bit where Bakugou doesn’t seem to care at all. It’s the closest thing to cold he’ll ever get, shut off and apathetic the moment a friend just wants some quality time with him.

So, maybe that’s the problem. Maybe Kirishima shouldn’t be thinking of them in terms of friends .

“Bakugou, what am I to you?” The words come out quiet. “Because, I’m trying to figure it out. I really am. Sometimes I think you care, but then the way you act…” He swallows with difficulty. “ And, I don’t need you to change for me, I just need to understand, because what I think and what you do just aren’t matching up.”

Bakugou splays a hand over his face. His eyes are closed beneath his fingers. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Kirishima.”

And Kirishima leans over him, because he needs to be seen. He pushes Bakugou’s hand away, waits for red eyes to open and lock with his own.

“Do you care?” He asks. “About me?”

He doesn’t know what he wants to hear. It doesn’t matter, because the words don’t come. Bakugou stays silent. Not a yes, not a no. Nothing.

There’s a weight on Kirishima’s chest. He swallows hard, looks away.

Then warmth covers his hand. Kirishima looks to it, finds Bakugou’s fingers squeezing his own. The grip is tight, almost painfully so. Clinging.

It’s a familiar sensation. He’s awash with the memory of weight trying to drag him down, of air whipping past him, of sweat slick palms, of heat in his face, of terror and triumph and how he’d never felt lighter in his life.

Kirishima squeezes his hand in return.

#Kirishima Eijirou #Bakugou Katsuki #Bakushima #Kiribaku #bnha #my writing

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bokura-no-ua · 7 years

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Inktober - Day 10: Gigantic

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku Rating: G Other tags: Modern/Quirkless AU, Soulmate AU

Art by Kumi and story by Red.

This is the third part of an ongoing story! For more context, read Part 1 - Part 2 || Or, you can go to AO3 to read the story there! Please, do not repost anywhere.

They were soulmates. Of that, Izuku was absolutely, one hundred percent sure. The dots adorning his arm, which everyone had believed to be freckles, changed colour slightly and lines appeared, connecting them, creating a constellation out of them.

So, yeah, he felt that very deep, strong bond whenever he was around Todoroki ever since their arms brushed against each other’s. He remembered how his heart had started beating like crazy, the butterflies in his stomach had performed jumps and dives and he had felt nauseous from all of the unnecessary activity within his own body.

He had never heard of such a strong reaction towards a soulmate before but he knew that, whenever he looked at Todoroki, his palms would get clammy. Whenever he spoke to him, he would start stuttering. And he could not even begin to describe what he felt whenever they accidentally touched if they happened to sit too close to each other during P.E. or lunch. Izuku’s entire being would light up, and he had been called out on his red cheeks quite a few times from concerned teachers who thought he had a fever.

It usually took him several minutes to explain that, no, he was fine and... it was embarrassing to say the least, especially because Todoroki would always look at him with such a worried face afterwards, telling him to please take better care of himself and offering part of his soba if they were at lunch or his water bottle in between exercises in P.E.

And Izuku’s heart went into overdrive each and every single time.

Objectively speaking, Todoroki Shouto was not only one of the most popular kids at school because of his flawless looks (yes, Izuku would willingly argue all day with anyone who said the mark on Todoroki’s face took away from his beauty), but he was also so incredibly nice, it was actually hard to believe the guy was even real.

However, three months after “meeting” at the mall and despite all of Izuku’s interactions with Todoroki so far at school, the other boy still seemed to be unaware that his soulmate was sitting just a few desks away from him or that his mark was complete. Or at least Izuku thought it was complete. It was hard to steal glances when they were all changing in the locker rooms, but he was 70% sure that Todoroki had his own - supposedly complete - constellation on his chest.

Izuku still didn’t know whether to approach him about that or not. Because, sure, they talked, but they weren’t, like, attached at the hip or anything. They hadn’t even been assigned as partners in any special assignments or walked together to the station to head back home. Outside of the hours spent inside the same four walls at school, their paths simply never crossed, no matter how badly Izuku wanted them to.

So, he was here, three months later, sitting at his desk at school and silently wallowing in self-pity and going over the endless list of what-if’s he had managed to imagine during his time of... objectively assessing Todoroki’s perfect everything.

Needless to say, the list was, um, long.

Uraraka was probably right. He did have a bit of a gigantic crush on the guy, maybe. She kept insisting that he should tell him about being soulmates, but really, he was still stumped as to how he could do that. None of his ideas seemed romantic enough, or personal enough, or just perfect enough.

This was Todoroki Shouto! He was the prettiest boy of all first year classes, he was both athletic and smart, and he had even got into their prestigious school via a recommendation. And here sat Izuku, sad, pathetic Izuku, who could barely get in and now harboured all of these unrequited feelings towards a guy that, again objectively speaking, was way out of his leag-

“DEKU-KUN!” Uraraka’s urgent tone cut off his train of thought.

“Huh?” He looked up to see a panicked expression on her face.

“Todoroki-kun is coming this way and you were muttering to yourself, again,” she said hurriedly and in a low voice so that only Izuku could hear her.

“What?!” he asked alarmed and stood up, almost knocking the chair back in his alarm.

He settled back with an awkward laugh and a scratch to the back of his head when a few of their classmates turned to look at them. They both bowed their heads in apology before Izuku spoke again.

“Why didn’t you say anything? How long have I been like that?”

“I don’t know, five minutes?” Izuku felt heat rising to his cheeks at that. “Don’t worry! It was mostly unintelligible as always! But I was scared you might drop you-know-who’s name when he walked by, so,” she shrugged and offered an easy smile, an expression Izuku found hard to mirror.

When he looked away from his friend, he saw the object of his affection walk right by the windows on his way to the back of the classroom. He slowed down to greet them, his mismatched eyes lingering for a second longer on Izuku’s coloured cheeks, a questioning look appearing suddenly on his face.

Izuku stuttered his way through a simple “G-Good morning, T-Todoroki-kun!” and tried to dismiss the other boy’s worried look with a wave of his hand, pretending to laugh at something Uraraka had said before Todoroki walked by.

“Is he still looking?” Izuku asked through gritted teeth after the other boy disappeared.

“Yeap, just keep smiling,” Uraraka mumbled back, her own cheeks in pain from all of the laughing they had had to fake for past few minutes.

Izuku felt torn, wanting to both melt from the heat Todoroki’s blatant staring ignited within him and throw himself into an ice-cold pool.

In the end, it was only their homeroom teacher’s unamused voice that finally tore Todoroki’s gaze from Izuku’s still red face.

Izuku needed to come up with a plan to finally tell him... and fast.

Day 15: Mysterious (Part 4) Day 20: Deep (Part 5) Day 28: Fall (Part 6) Day 30: Found (Part 7)

#TodoDeku #BnHA #Boku no Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #Inktober #Day 10 #our art #our stories #We're sorry about the delay!#We'll post days 9 and 11 as soon as we can :'D

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