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arotechno · 3 years

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Jughead (2015), Issues 1-6: Discussion and Commentary

"I am like unto a god, Archie Andrews. Respect me as such."

Recently re-typed and ready to go, here is a broad discussion of the first volume of the Jughead reboot comic series. I was originally going to review each issue individually, but given that the first six comprise one story arc, I decided to do the whole volume in one go. That means this is a bit crunched for time and therefore not quite as in-depth as I wanted to go! But I encourage you to read the comics for yourself, if you are able.

This will not be spoiler-free, for the record! The images here are taken from my own copy using my phone, so they're not the best quality! But they also aren't especially crucial to this commentary, so you'll have to bear with me.

I just really like the inside cover art for this volume, alright (it's also the cover of issue 5)? I can't help it, I'm aro, I see heart imagery and something in my brain goes haywire.

When we first meet Jughead at the beginning of Volume 1, he comes off as lazy and apathetic, at least on the surface. After an all-nighter of playing video games, Jughead is dragged to school by Archie. There, they find that Betty has started a new campaign to save Fox Forest, a beloved local greenspace that is being threatened by Veronica’s wealthy father, Mr. Lodge. Jughead is… not very interested in Betty’s cause, to put it politely. It’s not that he doesn’t care about Fox Forest, but he does not believe that Mr. Lodge would be convinced to change his mind by a petition. He tells Betty as such, and she remarks that he lives a very hollow life.

“Man, you’re so cynical,” Archie tells him. “Is there anything you’d actually fight for?”

The answer is yes. What ultimately gets Jughead to fight for something? Food—well, kind of, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

When Archie and Jughead get to class, they learn that the principal of Riverdale High, Mr. Weatherbee, is being replaced out of the blue by a new guy called Stanger. Stanger is a stiff, serious type, and he immediately starts making changes: new uptight teachers, a strict dress code, new bootcamp-esque curriculum, and most importantly, supposedly nutritious slop to replace the food in the cafeteria.

This sends Jughead down a bit of a rebellious path—he’s not a rule-breaker, but he’s perfectly comfortable with bending the rules in his favor while narrowly skirting around getting into trouble. He starts selling burgers in the cafeteria, with the proceeds benefitting Betty’s fundraiser for Fox Forest.

(Hell yeah, Jughead, unionize that student body! Sell those burgers! You have nothing to lose but your chains!)

This stunt gets Jughead on Stanger’s bad side immediately, and a slowly simmering feud between them ultimately boils over when Stanger plants a knife in Jughead’s backpack to get him expelled. Thankfully, his dad is able to talk his sentence down to a week’s suspension, but that doesn’t stop his friends (and his mother) from worrying about him.

As an aside, I’d like to take a moment to appreciate Mr. Jones.

“Something’s off here and I’m not sure what it is, but I am sure Jughead didn’t bring a knife to school. My boy’s weird, but he’s not a criminal.”

I really like this line from him to Betty. He clearly knows his son and is willing to stand up for him, and it’s comforting to me, especially viewing the story through the lens of Jughead being aroace, that Mr. Jones is not at all bothered by his son being a bit on the strange side, as long as he’s still a good kid. Nothing but respect for Forsythe Jones II in this house.

Something fun and unique about this volume in particular is that in every issue, Jughead either falls asleep or passes out, and has an elaborate imaginative dream about the events of the story. In one he’s a pirate, for example, and in another he’s visited by a descendant of Archie’s from the future, who belongs to the time police. But towards the end of the volume, the line between these daydreams and reality seem to blur for Jughead. He comes to the conclusion in one particular nightmare that Stanger is trying to brainwash them all into becoming mindless agents for his evil organization—and then he realizes he may not be that far off from the truth.

Jughead brings this realization—that Stanger is using the school as a sort of training ground for secret agents—up to his friends, and understandably, they aren’t convinced. They worry that the compounded exhaustion of multiple all-nighters playing games and the stress of being suspended has started to get to Jughead, but he vows to prove it to them.

I mean, damn, Betty, that kind of hurts. (Don’t worry, Betty is actually a good friend, as I’m sure we’ll get into later in the series.)

To make a long story short (and to avoid spoiling the entire plot for those who haven’t read it!), Jughead does find proof, and once he does, his friends are immediately on board. They are ultimately able to save the day, and once it’s revealed that Stanger and the new teachers are ex-CIA trying to brainwash the students (no, seriously), Mr. Weatherbee is re-instated as principal and things return to normal.

I’m leaving out a lot of nuanced details, mostly for the sake of time, but there are a lot of surprisingly weighty moments to this first arc, and Zdarsky’s character writing is incredibly endearing and funny, while still hitting the serious moments when it needs to. There’s an interesting underlying commentary in this arc about military recruitment and U.S. propaganda; Stanger says that he specifically chose Riverdale because the students are so average. There’s something to be said here about the way the military industrial complex preys on average or underprivileged teenagers to convince them to serve when they feel they have no better path to take. It’s an almost funnily serious commentary for Zdarsky to make with a seemingly silly and off-beat comic series, and I respect him for that.

(If you recognize this panel, it’s because it appears on the page where Jughead’s asexuality is canonized. What a good page. So good that nobody ever points out this panel.)

By the end of Volume 1, we see that Jughead maybe isn’t as apathetic and careless as he seemed to be. Sure, he got up in arms about food of all things in the beginning, but it stopped being about food very quickly, once he realized that something truly messed up was going on. And it bothers him, deeply—at one point, the gravity of the situation begins to weigh on him so heavily that he nearly gives up entirely, convinced that there is nothing they can do and that they ought to just lie low until they make it out. But he does end up making things right, with the help of his friends, and in the end, he does decide to help Betty out after all. It’s the least he can do, really. You do get the impression that although Jughead’s friends often don’t take him seriously, they’ll always have his back when it counts—and he’ll do the same for them, even if he’ll insist on being a bit snarky about it.

(That slightly cynical attitude is still there, though, and truthfully, Jughead wouldn’t be the same without it.)

To close out, I am just going to share some of my favorite panels/quotes that didn’t fit elsewhere, including some choice Aro Moods. I hope this (admittedly brief) discussion of Volume 1 convinces you to read the comics, and to join me again when I cover the next arc. Until then, cheers to Chip and Erica.

Jughead’s attitude towards Archie’s romantic problems will never not be funny to me. He’s just like “RIP to you but I’m different.”

Kevin. :/ Kevin come on, man. Mr. Zdarsky, sir, this is character assassination. (Jughead’s face in the corner is a reasonable reaction.)

This one’s gone around so many times before (as have a bunch of other aro moments that I don’t think I need to bother re-posting here), but I just think it’s neat. Don’t worry, Betty lets go.

Aaand lastly, I just really like this line from Jughead. “The world is out of our hands, pal. You just gotta make your own weird way in it.” That we do, Jughead. That we do.

#my god the pain i went through to write this #aro #aromantic #aro jughead #ace jughead #aroace jughead #long post #jughead jones #ooohhh i'm gonna make shitterdale stans sooo angry #jughead comics #techno's jughead reread #<- tag for this little series #op

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eveningstar1516 · 3 years

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Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 2

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence.

AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Previously:

“Alright. Sorry, Solomon, I’ll see you tonight right?”

“Of course. See you tonight.”

With that, he said his goodbyes to both Barbatos and I, then left. I took a deep breath and followed Barb into the palace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 2 - Meeting the King (1,626 words)

“Barb?”

“Yes?”

“Why does the king want to see me?”

“Honestly I’m not sure..”

“Umm, what’s he like? I’m a little scared of meeting him.”

Barbatos turns to me cupping my cheek gently as if to reassure me.

“Honestly, he looks scarier than he really is. You don’t have any reason to be nervous. He may not be like Lord Diavolo but all he requires is for you to be respectful. I have the utmost confidence that you will be just fine. It’s not just you by yourself either, the brothers, as well as my Lord and I, will also be present.”

“Thank you Barb” I gently leaned into his hand cupping it with my own.

“As long as the rest of you are with me, I’ll be fine.” A small smile formed on my face as he let go and continued walking. We stopped in front of the west sitting room. After knocking twice Barbatos let us in. The king sat on a raised dais. Diavolo was kneeling on a cushion to his right. Lucifer was on his right with the brothers sitting in accordance to their rank with a spot free in the center. Not really knowing what to do, I decided to bow from the waist and address the king.

“Your Highness”

“Sit”

“Thank you your Highness” I walked over and knelt down mimicking the brothers' postures best I could with my gaze respectfully lowered as the king began speaking.

“Y/N, correct?”

“Yes my king.”

“I have heard a great deal about you from both my son and his Lords. Tell me Y/N, what makes you, a human with little talent for magic so special?”

Taking a breath, I thought about it for a little. Thought about how the brothers were when we first met. How overtime each one of them started to warm up to me. I thought about Mammon and the schemes we pulled off together. The all-nighters Levi and I would pull when he found a new game or anime to binge. The countless hours I would spend reading with Satan and the book talks we had afterwards. The spa days I’d have with Asmo. The number of times I’d try to stop Beel from raiding the fridge only to join him instead. The strange places I’d find Belphie napping and trying to get him to move, only to end up being pulled down and start napping alongside him. The endless genuinely terrible but always-proved-to-be-a-fun-time ideas I humoured Dia with. The times where Barb would make time to teach me how to make different Devildom desserts. How Lu started out being so cold. Only caring about me because I was Diavolo’s exchange student. Now though, he learned to accept me into his family. The late-night talks we had in his study, watching the fire and talking about everything and nothing. Our time to unwind. Away from his brothers. Away from Diavolo’s crazy ideas. Away from our responsibilities. Just Lucifer the demon and me, Y/N, the human who managed to wind their way into the hearts of 9 of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Meeting the eyes of each of the demons in the room, I turned to the king.

“I’m not. I’m not special because of any abilities that I may have, or how strong I am as the weaker species. I’m nothing more than a human who was thrust into the world of demons, over time connecting with them and accepting them as the demons they are. As a family I never had and over time, they accepted me as well. Not as a weak human, but as the human that accepted them not for their status or power but for their personalities and love for each other. I’m not special, I just accepted them for who they are, flaws and all.” After I finished speaking I looked at each of the brothers noticing that some of them had tears in their eyes. Asmo who was seated next to me threw his arms around my shoulders in a hug. Dia looked so happy I thought he’d jump up and hug me at any moment, and Barb had the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen on him. I then turned back to the king.

“It seems you’ve made quite the impact here during your short time in the Devildom. I can’t say I approve of my strongest demons turning soft for a human, although it seems I can’t do much about that seeing as how you are pacted with 7 of them correct?” The king questioned with a hard look in his eyes.

“Y-yes that is true. I have made pacts with the 7 brothers.” I replied tentatively. At once, the atmosphere in the room seemed to change. The temperature dropped and the king was emitting a very strong aura. Had I not been used to Lucifers or Diavolo's aura’s whenever they would get upset I might have fainted from the king’s. Instead, I just felt a cold shiver and the gravity alter ever so slightly. Looking at the brothers, I realized they all had a look between fear and dread for what might happen next.

“Tell me Y/N, why should I allow you, a mere human to hold such power over 7 of my most powerful demons?”

“Father, there is no need for this. Those pacts were made with the consent of the brothers. They weren’t forced into them and Y/N has never abused them. They serve as protection for them and the symbol of a deep bond between them and the brothers. There isn’t a reason to -”

“Silence Diavolo. I have humoured you by allowing this program of yours. However, we are still demons. It doesn’t matter how things are now, humans have no place here nor do they have a right to hold this much power over this many powerful individuals. It doesn’t matter to me how close this human is to you or the Lords. In my eyes, the power they have pose a threat to the crown and the Devildom. I did not raise you to be soft hearted to something so weak!”

My face paled and I started feeling lightheaded at the implications of the king's words. Diavolo visibly winced at those words. Asmo held onto my hand a little tighter and before the king could continue, Mammon spoke up with a look of disdain on his face.

“With all due respect your Highness, none of that is true! Y/N may just be a human but that doesn’t mean they're a threat!” Lucifer immediately interjected, reeling Mammon in trying to save his brother before he dug the hole even deeper.

“My apologies your Highness. Mammon can get quite protective over Y/N. I assure you he won’t speak out of turn again.” The king narrowed his eyes at Lucifer then Mammon as if he was debating whether or whether not to punish them both here and now. Eventually, he turned back to me.

“Your pacts with the brothers will be dissolved and you will not be allowed back into the Devildom. I am showing you mercy and allowing you to keep one pact as the brothers have claimed your soul and they are entitled to at least that much. Be grateful that I’m allowing you to leave with your life at all.” He stared right through me as he said those words watching my expression change with his words. It’s as if a switch got flipped and every brother lost it while Diavolo and Barbatos looked at the scene then each other in what can only be described as impending horror.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

“WE MADE THOSE PACTS, YOU CAN’T TAKE THEM AWAY!”

“THEY CAN’T LEAVE!”

“NO WAY!”

Each of the brothers save for Lucifer who’s also looking at the scene in shock started yelling out trying to protect me.

“My Liege, the bonds we made with Y/N were our choice and we trust them with it. They have helped all of us time and time again. We cannot ju-”

“Enough” I activated my pacts and silenced him and the rest of the brothers with a whisper. I looked directly into the king's eyes.

“I won’t be dissolving my pacts. They were forged out of love and loyalty. I will not let them go unless they do first. They may be your Lords but they are my family. I will not be leaving them nor will I choose one over the rest. These bonds are our choice and not once have I ever abused them. It is as Lord Diavolo said, they represent the deep bonds I have made with each of them and no one can get rid of them!” I stared at the king with the most hardened gaze I could muster as I protected the brothers. “They are my family and you can not separate us!”

“Y/N…” Asmo said in disbelief as he wrapped his arms around me burying his face into my neck as the rest of the brothers slowly made their way over to me.

“Y/N is right. They became a part of our family. The pacts symbolize our deep bonds, ones that we will never break.” Satan said calmly though anyone who knew him would know he was anything but. The king smiled though it was anything but comforting as he slowly stood. Diavolo and Barbatos slowly backed up in shock.

“It seems you 7 forgot that you don’t dictate what goes on here. You are but a guest to the Devildom and the Sins, my subjects. MAKE NO MISTAKE! I AM YOUR KING AND YOU LOT ARE NOTHING!”

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chuckaf · 3 years

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Chuck Fic Rec List: Updated

So my fic rec post was in my notifs again the other day, and I noticed a while back that the formatting on the post has gotten all messed up and it’s also had like three reblog additions to it anyway meaning there are three versions out there lol. so, I wanted to do another list of chuck fic recs! I’ll keep the other one up still, so I’m not gonna repeat every fic here, just some I really recommend. I’m also adding the fic summaries, which I didn’t on the old post, and some more of my own opinions so, buckle up for a long post!

Chuck Versus the Steampunk Chronicles | Steampunk.Chuckster

1896. A world powered by steam, where humans and machines coexist, and airships are the fashionable mode of transport. The US Empire's deepest and darkest secrets arrive at Chuck Bartowski's doorstep. Have they fallen into the wrong hands? Or will the inventor prove his mettle, even while he's forced to hide from the very people he's protecting? AU, ongoing chronicle, Charah.

A genuinely incredible AU story, with an entire crafted world and universe, so detailed it frequently blows my mind. There is heart and family and infuriatingly brilliant slow-burn, plus a buttload of danger and super fun historical/steampunk action. Oh how I LOVE it.

Chuck vs the Charade | somedeepmystery

When computer nerd Chuck Bartowski returns home to an empty apartment and a dead girlfriend he finds himself embroiled in a deadly game of espionage and deceit. Everyone around him is playing a part to get what they want and when he starts falling for the new woman in his life, he can't help but wonder if he can trust her or if she's the one he should fear the most.

An action and twist-filled AU based on the movie Charade, which is just such a brilliant fic concept I absolutely adored it from the start.

Two Sides of the Same Coin | dettiot

When you're a spy, there's all kinds of occupational hazards when you work with another spy. For Sarah Walker, though, one mission becomes a life-changing experience. Because working with Charles Carmichael leads to protecting Chuck Bartowski.

The first time I read this fic my mind was just blown to its genius. Such a brilliant interpretation of what the Intersect and its concepts set up in the show could be, and ooooof the Chuck/Sarah interactions, my HEART. Related to it, its companion piece:

A Flip of the Coin | dettiot

What made Charles Carmichael agree to become Chuck Bartowski? Well, to start, it wasn't as much of a change as you'd think. A companion to the early chapters of Two Sides of the Same Coin from Carmichael's perspective.

Chuck vs The Butterfly Effect | n7agentbartowski

Chuck Bartowski is a normal guy who just hit rock bottom. No girlfriend, no career and no super computer stuck inside his head. It isn't until Chuck meets a gorgeous stranger on the beach that he begins to think his life is about to change for the better. An AU Chuck fic without the Intersect. "Change one thing and it changes everything."

I said it on the OG post, but this story has one of my top 5 Chuck/Sarah fic meetings. So funny, so... very Chuck. The story is a little angsty overall, but a great read.

Chuck vs the Rogue Spy | Crumby

When a rogue spy from Chuck Bartowski's past shows up to help him during his first solo mission, Chuck hopes that he'll finally find out what happened to Sarah Walker. Post-S2 AU.

There’s a lot of Season 3 fix-it fics out there, which I don’t usually read bc I actually love season 3 lol, but this one’s a good one! A twisty deviation from canon, but still feels really true to character.

Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite | Steampunk.Chuckster and David Carner

What happens when two nerds talk endless hours about their favorite TV show? A new take on the show you know, but with the flair, twists, and turns you've come to expect from Steampunk . Chuckster and david . carner. Somewhat canon. Charah.

As the summary says, a different take on the show, which honestly makes a couple changes I would too, but also adds a bunch of fun twists and plots that make it totally new and fresh. Seeing Chuck and Sarah’s thoughts in the more canon sections is just delicious, too.

The Trapped Assassin | SarahsSupplyCloset

After a mission goes awry, the CIA's most lethal assassin is ordered to take vacation while her superiors figure out what to do with her. But when she meets a disarming tourist, their immediate connection only adds to her disillusionment with the agency and her career. Will he be enough for her to finally take the plunge and leave the only life she's ever known? Charah AU

A warning for the very justified M rating if you don’t like that sort of thing, but this is definitely a plot-heavy fic, too. A really neat Sarah-heavy AU, with a whole lotta Chuck/Sarah fancy French vacationy goodness.

Chuck vs the Second Chance | malamoo

AU from mid-season 2 and onwards. Chuck and Sarah part ways only to be reunited years later. COMPLETE.

Literal, crying-at-my-screen angst. Not even a super happy ending. But a brilliantly written, part-reflective/flashback fic, exploring what would’ve happened if Chuck and Sarah’s relationship really was an assignment all along-- and the aftermath. It’s heartbreaking. But if you want a little heartbreak, this is your fic.

Ready at Your Hand | dettiot

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a Catholic plot against the queen comes to the attention of spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham. To protect Elizabeth, he develops an unusual plan: hide the passing of intelligence between two agents by a false romance. When Lady Sarah Walker and Chuck Carmichael meet, though, their pretend flirtation becomes much more.

I love Chuck fic for the very reason that it’s inspired such adventurous and totally unique AUs. Here’s some Elizabethan fake-dating Chuck and Sarah! They have to be so Proper, it’s like that hand moment from Pride and Prejudice but Elizabethan and times a billion. The pining!!

Sarah Versus Getting Married | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker is getting married. Canon. Charah.

I’d recommend all of SC’s fics if I had the room, and I’m already recommending a ton sksks but most of my fic recs are AUs, and this one isn’t! It’s canon, and covers some of in the gap in 4x24, with Sarah just before the wedding itself. Super sweet, heart-tugging, brilliant.

A Chuckmas Carol | Mikki13

A new twist to Dickens' beloved "A Christmas Carol". When Sarah begins to shut out the world around her, three spirits come to show her the error of her ways. Season 3 AU.

Another Season 3 AU, this one written pre-series so it definitely doesn’t fit to canon, but it’s still wonderfully rich in character depth and angst and it also made me cry. Plus, festive!

Chuck Versus Thin Ice | Steampunk.Chuckster

On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another. Charah AU.

Do you like curling? Or the Winter Olympics? It doesn’t really matter because somehow this fic made me extremely invested in both of those things, as well as Chuck and Sarah and them being INSUFFERABLE. Catch me now knowing a ton about curling thanks to this fic.

Walker’s Eleven | Moonlight Pilot

Not the same plot as the movie. Sarah Walker never got out of the con game or became a spy, and now she's on her final con. What happens when true love and betrayal get added to the mix? Twists, turns, and Jeffster!

Con!Sarah always interests me, and this fic is full of her. Lotta con plot, lotta Chuck and Sarah.

The Detective and the Tech Guy | thecharleses

Sarah Walker is a Pinkerton detective. Chuck Bartowski is an electronics genius. They wouldn't have met except for a case of mistaken identity and murder. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man film series. Formerly co-written by Steampunk . Chuckster and dettiot, now ONLY Steampunk . Chuckster.

Everyone in this fic is so damn cool. There are so many martinis. But also great heart and family and like, standing up for who you love, and later also Chuck with Baby Clara content which frankly the show robbed us of. Also, PI!Sarah!!!

Gravity | Poetic4U

AU. Sarah makes a decision that altered her life forever.

This is just a one-shot, which many of these stories are not, so a good one if you don’t fancy a big read! Just because it’s short, though, doesn’t mean it’s lacking; a really awesome what-if AU, and heavy on the Chuck and Sarah.

A Yuletie Tale | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker was dumped the day before Christmas Eve, and her Plus One at her work’s annual Christmas Eve Soiree is now officially a Plus Zero. Her best friend Ellie Bartowski has a solution to her problem, and Sarah finds she isn’t quite as sure about it as Ellie is. AU Christmas Charah.

I’m particularly in love with this fic because, instead of beginning with a meet-cute, it involves Chuck and Sarah already two years into a friendship-- Sarah is Ellie’s best friend. And she’s been crushing harrrd on Ellie’s brother. Also Chuck is in a tux. It’s pretty.

Set, Spike, Dive! | Frea O’Scanlin

Chuck never expected to even make it to the Olympics. Everything is working against him: he's too tall for a diver, too inexperienced for a medal, too much of a wildcard to really make his mark. But an unexpected meeting at the airport, some intriguing new friends, and a whirlwind romance on the sand just might set up London 2012 as the time of Chuck Bartowski's life.

A London 2012 AU, because why not. This is just a fun Olympic-y ride!

OTP (One True Pairing) Prompts | David Carner

A series of Prompts I found online about different times and places in Chuck and Sarah's life. Mostly AU, mostly one-shots. I assume mostly fluff, but I might get deep. I doubt it, it's me. Charah...ALWAYS (It says complete, but if an idea strikes me...)

If you’re not so into long stories, this fic is perfect. Individual set-ups and stories, all Chuck and Sarah, and all super cute. You could dip in and out and just pick a scenario you enjoy.

Chuck vs The Frontier | ninjaVanish

AU: Chuck was enjoying a simple life as a 19th century watchmaker until an encounter with a beautiful Secret Service agent thrust him into a world of intrigue and adventure he never wanted. But then, with Agent Walker around, it can't be all bad, can it?

This fic gets props for being historically-set but still including the Intersect. Again, a historical AU, so the pining!! the need to be Proper!!! But besides all that, there’s a lot of action fun as well.

Chuck Versus The Crosswalk: Remastered | WvonB

Will a last minute mission help our two favorite characters finally get together? This is the remastered version of my first story.

The original version of this fic is on my first list; this is the updated version! It’s not a complete AU, instead a story that diverges from canon, so if you’re more into canon characters and setting than a new AU scenario, this is a great fic for that.

Little Girls, Paper Wreaths, and Choc Chip Cookies | DanaPAH

Very AU: Sarah Walker is a single mother whose Christmas spirit needs a boost after a tough divorce. She isn't quite ready to go looking for romance, but her little daughter's affection for their new neighbor may lure it right to her doorstep, anyway.

An incredibly sweet AU one-shot where Chuck and Sarah are new neighbours, and Sarah has a super cute little girl. So much sweetness and love and hope. I love this fic so much it literally led me to write my own neighbour-kid-AU, so, not to toot my own horn but I’ll link it here anyway.

May Your Walls Know Joy | halfachance

Looking for a fresh start after some tough times, Sarah and her three-year-old daughter move to LA. When they meet a sweet curly-haired nerd who lives next door, though, Sarah realizes they might just find more happiness than they'd ever imagined, if only her past doesn't catch up to her first. AU.

It’s what the summary says; if you wanna read, feel free!

Chuck vs the Sound of Music | quistie64

AU. Chuck, nerd extraordinaire, is a man with seven children and Sarah must protect them all from Fulcrum's evil designs. Warning: there will be singing.

I mean. Not much mystery as to the concept with that title and summary lol, but this is a super fun, soft ride with a lotta sweetness, and yes, singing.

Just Two People | David Carner

Meet Sarah Walker PhD, Psychologist, specializing in personality traits. Meet Chuck Bartowski, man who has left THE electronic company of 2020. When Burton Consultants tries to figure out what is wrong with the morale of Orion Industries, what happens when a guy named Chuck meets a woman named Sarah. I'll give you a hint, it's me writing.

David’s done something pretty special with this fic. It’s Chuck and Sarah centric, but very much an ensemble piece, too, with a lot of Team Bartowski and other familiar faces throughout.

Chuck Versus the Con Game | Steampunk.Chuckster

AU. Chuck and Sarah are partners in the con game. It's an existence wrought with danger and violence. Every day could be their last. Every mission could be the end of the line.

This is where I freak out SC and declare this fic the reason I ever got hooked on Chuck fic and then wrote Chuck fic, and the reason I still love it today but. that is true lol. Just so. so good. It’s also written with the chapters out of chronological order, which is super fun from a reading perspective. But con!Sarah AND con!Chuck?? Best. The kind of fic you will be thinking about for days (if not, y’know, years).

As you can tell by the repeats, I highly recommend just about anything by Steampunk.Chuckster, dettiot, or David Carner, but there are a TON of amazing Chuck fics and authors out there. I’ve never known a writing community so wildly creative-- there are so many unique AUs and canon explorations and story concepts that this show has manifested, and it’s all so much fun.

Most of the Chuck fic community is still over on FFN rather than AO3, so if any of these whet your appetite, feel free to have a browse there for more stories. I’m sure you’ll find something great. Personally, all the incredible writing there has also led me to write a buttload; I’m at halfachance on FFN, so if you see any of my stuff or wanna chat fic, feel free to message me there or here.

Happy reading, folks!

#chuck #fic rec #chuck fic #nbcchuck #praying if i edit this to add to it or i reblog it to add to it all the links stay and the line breaks don't disappear sksks #the old one still looks okay on desktop but it's messed up on the app and on mobile and it's just all generally messy #so i've been wanting to make this for aaages lol yay to finally doing something! woo!

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circlique · 3 years

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I love brotherly/ mentor mongolia and south korea! Can you that same platonic pairing for 38 or 10 (preferably 10)? Thank you!

10. “I think I twisted my ankle...”

38. “Let's take a deep breath..."

——

The last few decades had been...interesting...to say the least.

Yong Soo, of course, was not thrilled to be conquered by a foreign power. After all the bloodshed and destruction that the Mongols had cast upon his kingdom, there had been no choice but to submit or be destroyed.

Unlike the invasions, however, Mongol rule was not nearly so crushing. Nowadays, it was looking a lot less like a conquest and more like an annoying bureaucracy. The Mongol “takeover” in practice was a lot more lenient than he had imagined. Yong Soo’s sovereignty was mostly respected. His royalty still got to rule—they just had to intermarry with the Mongolian royalty and keep on their good sides—a comparatively easy concession.

It was almost like a complicated game of house. Korean princes putting on their best Mongol garmets and charming Mongol princesses with their best renditions of old Mongol stories. Even Khan seemed fond of some of the princes.

Likewise, Mongolia—Batukhan—reflected this firm, but fair rulership. Loyalty was prized above all else, and dissent was dealt with swiftly—but for the most part, he treated the young Korean representations as if they were his own.

Recently, Batukhan had been agreed to teach Yong Soo the art of horseback archery, after the boy’s incessant begging. Mongolia’s mounted archers were no doubt responsible for his Empire’s vast land holdings and conquests. They had range, speed, and flexibility, and were able to run circles around any unprepared opposition. It had been terrifying to face them, so of course Yong Soo held a healthy respect for their art. Part of him was eager to learn it for himself, if only so his own armies could one day use the Mongols’ strategies against them.

Batukhan did not seem concerned that his young pupil may one day use the art to try and drive him out and taught him just as he would have for any other soldier. Perhaps it was the fact that Yong Soo’s legs were still not quite long enough for his feet to sit comfortably in the stirrups that led Batukhan to offer up the knowledge so freely...

“You do well with a bow on the ground,” Batukhan stated, directing his horse to walk in pace next to Yong Soo’s. He had left all the body armor and extra equipment at home today and was wearing only a simple, white tunic. His hair was drawn into a loose braid, which swung lightly against his back with the horse’s steps. Without the full ensemble of his usual uniform, Batukhan seemed suddenly less scary and much more approachable.

“But that’s because you’re stable and only need to focus on the movement of your target,” he continued. “On horseback, you need to track your target’s movement as well as your own.”

Batukhan had set up a line of makeshift targets in front of them, old rice sacks stuffed with grass and twigs and painted with a target. He raised his bow, a sleek, curved composite of leather and horn, notched an arrow, and let it sail effortlessly into its target a few yards away. He urged his horse into a quick trot and fired arrows into the centers of the remaining targets in rapid succession.

“You must be strong in your core,” he said, gesturing to his abdomen as he lowered his bow and turned his horse around to face Yong Soo. “On the horse, that’s where your stability comes from. Don’t squeeze too hard with your legs.”

By now, Yong Soo’s horse had caught up, but Batukhan was already taking the horse’s reins and forcing him to turn back around.

“Now, you try,” he said, helping Yong Soo to direct his horse back in the other direction. He let go of the reins, and Yong Soo’s horse proceeded at a steady pace.

Yong Soo, eager to prove himself, raised his bow. He was quite proficient at it, on the ground at least. How different could it be?

He discovered very quickly that yes, it was quite different. Turning his upper body 90 degrees to face the targets immediately had him feeling off balance. Still, he was determined to at least look confident, so he bit his lip and let the arrow loose. As soon as he did, the force cause his upper body to rotate, his legs splaying out to his sides in an effort to keep his balance, and the arrow flew wildly off to the side.

“Strong core, Yong Soo,” Batukhan reminded him firmly.

Yong Soo bit his lip and readied the next arrow. Strong core. He tried clenching his abdomen, but it still did not feel right. It felt like his lower body was ungrounded. His feet, though they could reach the stirrups, did not quite settle into them firmly. Yong Soo rocked side to side, stretching his legs to try and make them go further, but it didn’t seem to help much. He flexed his core again, trying to keep from also squeezing his legs, and let the second arrow fly.

This time it at least landed close to the target, and Yong Soo spotted it sticking up from the ground near the target he’d intended to hit.

“Better,” Batukhan said from some distance away. “But you’re still not stable. You need to be rooted in your core.”

Third time’s the charm, right? Yong Soo thought to himself. Stability, stability. It was so easy on the ground. He shifted in the saddle again, stretching his legs down as far as they would go, until the foot on the same side as the targets settled more comfortably into the stirrup. Now Yong Soo felt he could settle his weight into it and—yes! Much more stable now. His confidence returned, and he readied another arrow, drew it back, flexed his core—and let it go.

At first, it seemed that Yong Soo had finally figured it out. The arrow embedded itself in the target, not in the center but at least not in the ground, but the backwards force of the bow on his arm knocked him off balance. He felt his weight shift first towards the horse and then overcorrected. He was leaning too far forward, all his weight pressed onto his forward foot as the foot on the side opposite completely lifted out of the stirrup. He felt himself slipping from the saddle and dropped his bow, his hands scrambling for a hold, body twisting back towards the horse—but it was too late. His stomach turned as gravity betrayed him, arms flailing out to his sides as they searched for the ground to break his fall. He held his breath waiting for impact and—something cracked.

The impact knocked the breath out of him, but the pain in his ankle, tangled in the stirrup and twisted unnaturally—would have done just the same.

“Yong Soo!” came Batukhan’s cry of concern, and he quickly dismounted his own horse to run to the boy’s aid.

Yong Soo’s horse—a well-trained, obedient creature, thankfully—had stopped and turned its head to nudge at the panicking Korean curiously with its nose. Yong Soo clawed at his leg, trying to free his twisted ankle from the stirrup and gasping as the movement only elicited more pain.

“Yong Soo!” Batukhan said, kneeling down and taking Yong Soo by the shoulders.

“I—I think I twisted my ankle,” Yong Soo panted, his voice shaking as he looked up at his leg, his stomach turning at the sight of his toes facing the wrong direction.

“Yes, yes you did,” Batukhan said matter-of-factly, wisely positioning himself so that his body blocked Yong Soo’s view of his injury. He gently pushed Yong Soo’s upper body down to the ground. “Now, let’s take a deep breath.”

The Mongolian drew in an exaggerated breath, held it for a moment, and released it. At first, Yong Soo could only think of the pain in his leg, throbbing harder with every heartbeat. But Batukhan repeated his exaggerated breaths a few more times until he had Yong Soo doing it along with him.

“Right—now I want you to take the biggest breath you can, Yong Soo,” he said. “And when I count to three, force it back out as hard as you can, alright?”

Yong Soo nodded, and after a few shallower warm up breaths, he sucked in as much air as he could. His lungs burned with the pressure but he kept trying to breathe in more, even as Batukhan took Yong Soo’s injured leg in his hand, holding it in a firm grip just above the ankle. Pain shot down Yong Soo’s leg and he held the breath, grimacing.

Batukhan finally started counting.

“Let it out on three, alright? One, two—three.”

In one swift movement Batukhan popped the twisted foot out of the stirrup, and Yong Soo let out the breath with a strained cry of pain.

“Good,” Batukhan said, slowly lowering the leg down to the ground, though he had to gently push Yong Soo back when he again sat up, trying to get a look at the injury.

“Ah—no need,” Batukhan said. “How will looking at it help you? It will heal itself without the help of your eyes won’t it?”

Yong Soo frowned and laid back with a huff. His ankle throbbed, but it was slowly subsiding, no doubt as a result of the accelerated healing that beings like him were blessed with. After a few more breaths, he felt a bit stupid for being so panicked.

Batukhan sighed.

“You were cheating,” Batukhan said with a knowing tone.

“I wasn’t!” Yong Soo protested.

“You were!�� Batukhan said, standing and reaching out a hand for Yong Soo to grab. Yong Soo took the hand and shifted his weight onto his good leg as Batukhan pulled him into a standing position.

“You know how I know?” Batukhan went on, letting Yong Soo lean on him for support as he walked him over to a nearby tree. “Because I left the stirrups unadjusted on purpose. You must be able to stabilize yourself without relying on your legs. If you were doing it correctly you would not need the stirrups at all.”

Yong Soo pouted, then winced as he stubbornly tried to put weight on his not-quite-healed leg.

“Sorry...” he muttered simply, the embarrassment of the whole fiasco now starting to settle in.

Batukhan let out another sigh as he helped Yong Soo sit down in the shade of the tree. Once Yong Soo was situated, Batukhan knelt next to him and began to wrap the injured (but now, thankfully, untwisted) ankle in a strip of leather for stability.

“It’s fine,” he said, his tone betraying a hint of softness. “It’s only your first day, after all.”

#hetalia #aph #hws #aph mongolia #aph south korea #hws mongolia #hws south korea #my writing #sorry I got stuck on this one for a while

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passable-talent · 4 years

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Heyyyyy I love how y’all write zuko! Could I ask for an imagine where the reader is zuko’s servant and is very shy and docile, and one of the guards on his ship tries to intimidate her but zuko goes in to defend her. Thanks 💗💗💗💗

as this was requested nearly two months ago, it is a relic of another time. that’s why I’m excusing the female pronouns. but be aware- incoming asks now get deleted if they ask for female reader in any way. yes, I’m being a hardass about it

You had the fortune of being born a firebender. Sadly, that was where your fortune ended. You were born into the lowest class of the fire nation- the servant class. You couldn’t do much to bring honor to your name, other than to do your best to serve whatever household you were placed into.

You weren’t very good at that, either. You were so bad at it, in fact, that when it came time for the young prince Zuko to take a ship and head off to find the avatar, you were given to him almost as a joke, as though you would make his life harder, instead of easier.

You were determined to prove them wrong. So every day, you did your chores dutifully. You purified salt water from the seas to make it into drinking water, and used some of it to wash the sheets and clothes of the crewman, the prince and general of course being treated first. Then, as it was lunch by the time you’d finish, you would help the cooks distribute lunch to all of the crewman.

Then, in the afternoon, you would assist both the prince and anyone else in the crew with anything they needed. Usually, you fetched parchment, or maps, or new candle wax. You helped distribute the evening meal, and after dinner you finally had time to yourself.

Most nights, you wandered to the bow of the ship, and practiced firebending.

You didn’t have much need for the skill. You weren’t gifted, and it wasn’t as though anyone expected you to help fight any sort of battles, as you weren’t a soldier. You didn’t plan on fighting any Agni Kais, and your bending was already good enough for mundane things, like lighting candles and thawing crewmen who stepped the wrong way in front of the avatar’s waterbending friend.

By all accounts, there was no need to train you any further.

And yet, you did. You had a passion for firebending- not for the fighting, and the martial arts, but for the way it made you feel. You loved the noise of the flame, and the energy that coursed through your bones, and the heat of the fire. You loved the warmth and the light that it spread. Though you had no teacher, you trained the best you could, practicing forms you had witnessed General Iroh teaching prince Zuko.

You hadn’t gotten in trouble yet. You didn’t know why you would, after all, you were off duty after dinner, but still you feared that somehow you were breaking a rule. Yet you thought that maybe the night watchman was less concerned with your shenanigans than whatever else their duties were. Maybe you had been reported, but hellfire was yet to rain upon you. There was no way to know.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and began your forms again, your shoulders square and torso strong but your footwork lacking.

“May I?” asked a voice behind you, and you turned to see General Iroh, sitting down at his Pi Sho table.

“General,” you said, turning toward him and bowing deeply. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I’ll see myself to bed right away-“

“No, Y/N,” Iroh said, “it seems I am the one who has interrupted you. I sometimes enjoy a late night tea, and look at the stars. Don’t let me stop you.” You paused, shocked, but soon offered him a grateful smile and returned to your movements.

You faced the bow of the ship, and struck forward with both hands, knuckles vertical, making fire frame the point of the bow. Then, you jumped, launching upward and letting your body drift sideways as you struck your hand and foot in opposite directions, sending arcs of flame. You were supposed to land on your feet, but you stumbled sideways, and took the fall to your hip, then hands.

“Your technique is strong, but you need to focus more on your footwork,” General Iroh said, making you stiffen up. You hadn’t realized he’d been watching you- much less that he would critique.

“Much like earthbenders, firebenders can gain control from their connection to the ground. Keep your stances strong, and mind your center of gravity. This will help you control your flame.” You turned to the General and bowed again, a small smile on your face.

“Thank you, General,” you said, and began the set anew.

And so it became a pattern. General Iroh would often take naps in the afternoon, so that he could sit under the stars with you and help you learn. You couldn’t ever thank him enough, as he had no need to do this for you. Regardless, your skill began to strengthen, slowly as it was.

It did mean, however, that you were much more tired in the mornings. When you got up to clean up from breakfast one morning, your drowsiness was so strong that you managed to stumble when delivering Lieutenant Jee his tea. You apologized profusely, and immediately offered to get him another cup, regardless of the shard of porcelain stuck into the center of your palm, but it seemed that he wouldn’t hear it.

“You should’ve never been placed on this ship,” the lieutenant jeered, “It’s ridiculous that the good crewmen of this ship are burdened with not only a moody teenager as a captain, but also a clumsy teenager as a servant.” You looked to the side, hoping that maybe you would garner Iroh’s pity, and he would come to your rescue. But instead, you saw him walking away, showing utter indifference to your situation.

“We’re not the banished ones! Why are we being punished?” As he raised his voice, you tucked your chin down, hoping to diffuse his anger with your submission, complacency.

“My apologies, Lieutenant, I’m sorry-“

“You should be sorry. You’re nothing. To think that you’ve even been trying to be a firebender. You’ll never be more than you are- a useless servant.”

“Leave them alone,” said Zuko, emerging from the interior of the ship. Behind him walked Iroh, and you realized that the General had gone to fetch the prince.

“If you think that Y/N is useless, I’d love to see how you manage a day without their help. You may be a lieutenant, but you show no respect.” Lieutenant Jee turned from the conversation, seemingly chased off, and Prince Zuko turned to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and you realized you’d never seen a side of him so caring. Slowly you turned over your palm, revealing the shard still stuck into your hand, and the trail of blood it had dripped and carved.

“Come inside, I’ll get you to the medic,” he said, and you followed him into the ship. However, he took you nowhere near the medic’s chambers, instead pulling you into his own. He had you sit down in front of his desk, and gathered a bandage from a nearby storage chest.

“If he says anything like that to you again, tell me,” the prince ordered you, and you nodded, casting your eyes to the floor. You never thought you’d be in his chambers- let alone when he’d just saved you. He sat in front of you, gently taking your hand and turning over your palm so that he could slowly pull out the shard of cup you’d smashed into it. Gently, he used a wet cloth to wipe the blood from your hand, his palm placed over your knuckles to hold your hand in place. Then, he wrapped your hand, and though you knew that your body carried the heat of a firebender, you couldn’t help but think that his hands felt so warm.

“My uncle said that you’re a promising firebender,” Zuko said, seemingly struggling to make conversation.

“I’m trying to learn,” you answered, voice small. You still felt so out of your element, being in his chambers.

“I could pardon you for an afternoon, so you can train with me. If you want.”

“I don’t think I’m good enough for that,” you said quickly, astonished he’d even offer.

“Well, when you’ve learned more. Maybe then.” You nodded, and he tucked your bandages into place, a small metal clip keeping them from unraveling. You stood up quickly, and bowed to him.

“Thank you,” you said, before rushing from his sight.

You couldn’t help the blush that rose on your cheeks, nor the way your heart pounded. You never thought he’d even known your name- and now he offered to train with and protect you.

Maybe the prince wasn’t as emotionally closed off as the crew seemed to think. Maybe there was something in his chest, something that you might even be able to reach.

Maybe.

-🦌 Roe

#imagines #reader insert #angst #atla imagines #atla imagine #atla fluff #atla iroh #atla zuko #atla #avatar x reader #avatar reader insert #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #avatar iroh #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #avatar zuko

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amimons · 4 years

Text

Miraculous Sweet-ember (Sept. 29th)

September 29th: Ikari Gozen, Desperada, Startrain, & Timetagger

Ikari Gozen started a friendship between Marinette and Kagami. After meeting Kagami she noticed how close she and Adrien have been getting and feared that her opportunity to be with Adrien would be hindered. Kagami’s exterior front was also a pretty cold one making it harder for Marinette to connect to her. So she was viewed as a rival until Friendship Day in Paris fixed that. Turns out much to her dismay that Marinette was paired up with Kagami for the treasure hunt and the idea made her nervous and uncomfortable. Kagami on the other hand was willing to get to know Marinette and form a new friendship. Forming relationships doesn’t come easy to Kagami because just like Adrien, she did not grow up in an environment with the opportunities to make friends.

Throughout the treasure hunt, Kagami was earnestly trying to get to know Marinette but it came off as awkward and stoic. Marinette was determined to get away from Kagami and lose the treasure hunt since the prize was to get a picture with Adrien. It wasn’t until she learned that Kagami is friendless and trying to be genuine that she regrets her intentions. She even took care Tomoe when she called Kagami to figure out where she went off to. Marinette called herself a friend of Kagami which was great for Kagami but Marinette’s truthful answer lead to Tomoe getting akumatized. In season three one of the main things Marinette’s development was focusing on was how she handled her crush on Adrien and love rivals. She started as someone who felt threatened by Kagami to someone who felt she needed to connect with Kagami. She experience some real growth when she decided to friend Kagami and give her a miraculous.

Desperada was a troubling ordeal for Adrien. At first, he believed it was a wonderful opportunity for Ladybug to get to knowingly work side by side with Adrien. He wanted a chance to impress and woo her and he felt very honored that Ladybug thought Adrien was capable of being a miraculous hero. Unfortunately, Adrien discovers that he was not best suited for the snake miraculous after many failed attempts. 25,913 attempts to be exact. No matter what he did, no matter the approach Ladybug was always met with the same fate. Adrien was so determined to prove that he was able to help Ladybug out that he has forgotten that he already plays an extremely vital role as Chat Noir. Taking Chat Noir out of the equation was not a good move.

The way the miraculous work is that they are specifically suited for specific types of people. Both Ladybug and Adrien tried to fit Adrien into the role of the snake holder but it doesn’t align with Adrien at the end of the day (or end of the months in Aspiks case). Although it always ended in tragedy the Ladrien moments were very adorable in all the attempts we got to see. The scene where Adrien finally surrenders the snake miraculous had him open up to Ladybug in an emotional way. Something that Chat Noir has never done with Ladybug before making it one of the first times he was emotionally vulnerable around Ladybug (even though she didn’t know he was Chat). Chat made a habit of always jumping in front of Ladybug when danger is around but as Aspik he was unable to do so. It was also the first time that Adrien had to accept that he wasn’t the one needed to help his lady with the snake miraculous and even suggesting to hand it over to someone else. Adrien is used to having a lot of responsibilities placed onto himself but to feel comfortable to let go of one was pretty big for him.

Startrain had the iconic scene where Adrien and Marinette nap together on the train ride over to London. Enough said. It's such a sweet moment between the two of them. Marinette rolled her head over on Adrien and that boy did not even hesitate to lean into Marinette and join her in napping. And the moment her head rested onto Adrien he smiles down at her. Then when Marinette woke up the first time when the commotion started on the train she saw exactly what happened while she was napping and usually Marinette immediately has an outburst of nervousness around Adrien but instead, she smiles and decided to continue resting. It's not often that we get a setting where we get to see them just enjoy each other's company comfortably so it was a welcome surprise before the akuma ruined it.

For the other half of the train ride, they had to deal with Max’s mother being akumatized. What was interesting about her predicament was that the akuma wasn’t meant for her. It slipped away from Hawkmoth’s grasp after a failed attempt to akumatize Sabrina’s dad. The suitcase slipped on board via Sabrina’s suitcase and instantly went to Max’s mother as soon as she felt a big feeling disappointment. She sent the whole train off in space which meant not only did we get a zero-gravity fight but Hawkmoth was so far out of range from the akuma that he couldn’t control it. To get a scenario where Hawkmoth doesn’t have the ability to guide the akuma’s attacks brought a change in the usual formula. It was also high stakes for him once he learned his son was on board and he once again put Adrien in danger.

Timetagger is Bunnix’s debut episode excepts its Bunnix from the future we meet. Future Alix is a time-traveling miraculous holder who has to come to her past to help defeat Time-Tagger. She can’t give too much away about the future which includes the status of our main heroes’ relationship status. That doesn’t mean she can’t mess with him by giving him a confusing answer. We also learned about potential future plotlines like Chat Noir accidentally damaging the bunny miraculous with cataclysm and Hawkmoth position being overthrown. There are so many exciting details about the future that our full of mystery that I’m looking forward to.

Since Timetagger was sent from the future it meant that current Ladybug and Chat Noir weren’t as experience to handle the situation. That didn’t prevent Ladybug from being an all-star with her plan to take down the akuma. Her plan with her lucky charm was all about timing...only Ladybug could think of sending a message to her future self so the future heroes of Paris and destroy the item the akuma was in. In order for the plan to be successful Ladybug had to pretend to admit defeat convincing everyone that she was out of solutions. Chat didn’t fact Ladybug on her choice and went to go with her to hand over their miraculous but she made sure to through a reassuring wink in his direction. She had to make sure her and Chat’s placements where exact because she drew a map for their future selves to open up a portal to the spot Timetagger was standing. It was such a cool way to incorporate the current Ladybug and Chat Noir and their future selves as well as reassuring our beloved heroes are still on top of their game.

About Sweet-ember:

For the month of September I wanted to spread some positivity and praise Miraculous Ladybug on the things I’ve appreciated/enjoyed from the show.

Everyday I’m going to select one particular moment, event, theme, etc. from an episode of Miraculous and shared what I liked from that episode. Each post will discuss 2-3 episodes (from season 1-3; 78 episodes in total).

Whether its something big or small there is something positive that I can take away from every single episode of Miraculous.

Please feel free to add a moment from these particular episodes that you loved to this post as well!

Salt towards the show, characters, ships will not be tolerated!

Sweet-ember posts

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

[18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31]

#miraculous ladybug #ml sugar #ml sweet-ember #Ikari Gozen #Desperada #startrain #timetagger #mine

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

Text

Sorry for disappearing! Real life stuff. You all know the feeling.

Gonna finish up the battle training arc~

[No. 10 - Breaking Bakugou]

(Technically there could be a Breaking Bad-kugou joke here. Just saying.)

Character sheet! I love how Katsuki’s described repeatedly as ‘explosively X’ for each part of him. Especially him being explosively petty. Also, confirmed canon that the skin on his palms is especially thick - likely from the callouses from the blowback of his quirk! Which means he might not necessarily be able to feel things under his palm or even fingers, depending on just how thick those callouses are.

(Also pfft, Hori telling Katsuki to pull up his pants already.)

In case you’ve forgotten how big the explosion Katsuki just set off was. Man, just look at all the damage, I’m shocked the building didn’t outright collapse. I mean, I guess buildings are a bit sturdier than movies like to show, but still, all those cracks and faultlines, especially on the neighboring buildings…

Anyways, neither Tenya nor Ochako are prepared for how much the building is rocked by said explosion. Ochako recovers faster and decides to take advantage by tapping her fingers to her palms and then running for the bomb.

(Also, the bottom of her shoes squish. How is that at ALL practical to run around in???)

Tenya realizes what she’s doing and moves to intercept, while Ochako thinks about how all she needs to do to win is to touch the weapon. She leaps over Tenya, having made herself weightless with that previous palm-tap technique (as Tenya realizes out loud), and then dispells it on herself in order to let gravity take her right towards the prize. She mentions as she falls that that special move takes a lot out of her.

Tenya, however, has the speed to yoink the bomb out of her way before she can grab it, shocking her and distracting her so that she makes a tumbled landing, her helmet bouncing away as she rolls back-first into the wall. Tenya notes that her quirk is no threat so long as she can’t touch anything, and slides back into his ‘villain persona’ as he tells her to keep struggling as he continues to waste her precious time. She grits her teeth as she mumbles that she’s counting on Deku, likely to come through with another distraction for her to get the weapon.

Yes, Katsuki is totally calm and rational right now. Honest to god, why was he given those gauntlets? Also, just noticed that Izuku’s got a layer of clothing/something under his costume, since that is not his bare skin. Seems to be a bit more explosion-resistant as well? Or perhaps that’s just shounen physics at work.

Katsuki taunted Izuku, and Izuku picks himself up while noting how the explosion was directed forward, thus giving him a ranged attack. Which makes sense considering that he can’t direct the energy of his normal explosions from dispersing in all directions equally in normal situations. Izuku puts a hand to his headset, asking after Ochako, and Katsuki calls Izuku out on ignoring him.

Kirishima asks All Might why he’s not stopping the match, saying Katsuki is crazy and looking to kill. All Might, however, thinks otherwise, considering some of Katsuki’s previous statements.

Ahahaha even his tentative complement of Katsuki’s ‘restraint’ is immediately redacted by the ‘just that petty’ comment. Also, All Might can hear everything all the students are saying, headset on or off, while they’re out there in the field. And you want to know something interesting he heard two chapters back?

I have to wonder how much All Might knows about Izuku’s history versus what he keeps to himself… I can’t imagine Izuku would mention the bullying, so this might have been the first he was hearing about it. :)

Anyways, he calls Katsuki out on using that move, noting that massive attacks like that being used indoors could easily bring the stronghold down around them, and that it’s a bad move for both heroes and villains, as well as a good way of losing points. All Might then thinks about how he should be stopping the match as a teacher, but…

(All Might knows it's the responsible thing as a teacher to stop the match immediately, but he also knows that his successor NEEDS to be able to prove himself as an equal to someone who looked down on him and bullied him before now, especially with Izuku so determined to not lose to Katsuki for once. It was a quiet kind of passion, one he hasn't heard from Izuku before, and he can't take that chance away too quickly, even if he wants to intervene and knows he should be.

And yes, I know his reasoning for his hesitation is more directly mentioned in a bit, but it’s a good place to remind people who seem to think he was thoughtlessly irresponsible here that he knew damn well what he was doing, and that it was for Izuku’s sake that he held back from ending the match early.)

Katsuki complains about the chastisement, while Izuku confirms Ochako’s location in the bomb room and starts trying to plan again. Katsuki leaps forward at Izuku with renewed intent to beat him into the ground, startling Izuku as he realizes he has no way to dodge, only counter-

Katsuki learns FAST from his mistakes in battle, and it shows.

(Also, just realized there wasn’t an underlayer for Izuku’s costume, it was just that scrap of sleeve looking weird in that image. My bad!)

Shouto explains what just happened - Katsuki feinted with his first explosion while using it to leap around back, and then used a double explosion to maximize the force behind the blow to Izuku without being thrown back out the hole he made earlier. Yaoyorozu notes that while Katsuki doesn’t seem like a thinker, his battle strategy is fairly intricate, while Kaminari gripes about how good he is.

While Izuku is recovering from that attack, Katsuki sweeps in with an announced reight hook, Izuku barely having time to turn to look before he gets fucking clocked in the side by Katsuki’s gauntleted arm. He then grabs Izuku’s right arm, spins him around using a series of small explosions to build momentum, and then bodily slams Izuku down into the ground while saying Izuku is nothing compared to him.

Izuku realizes Katsuki’s giving him no time to think, and that he’s just to strong, so he has to use ‘it’, aka One For All. The class is in shock, one saying that his actions are torture and that he could have ended it with the capture tape already, while another notes that it’s not very hero-like, and a third that they thought Izuku was good, but that Katsuki’s battle sense is unbeatable, and that he’s all instinct.

‘A part of him seems calm’ my fucking ass.

Izuku surries away in a panic while Katsuki looms after him. Ashido comments on him running, while Kirishima says that it’s not manly, but Izuku doesn’t have a choice, even if the situation is odd (i.e. probably noting that Izuku hasn’t used his quirk yet, even though he knows how strong said quirk is since he was in the same arena as Izuku.) Izuku slams against a wall, bracing himself for Katsuki’s next move.

Katsuki demands to know why Izuku won’t use his quirk, and whether Izuku is mocking him, like he always has since they were kids. Izuku says Katsuki’s wrong, but Katsuki barrels on, saying how he knows Izuku is looking down on him. All Might thinks more about stopping them, but that he can’t take this from Izuku. Izuku says that it’s because Katsuki’s awesome that he wants to beat him.

The two of them are yelling at each other now (very shounen moment), Izuku about how he wants to win and beat Katsuki, while Katsuki tells Izuku to stop ‘looking at him like that’. All Might is in the middle panel between them, thinking about how he hasn’t seen izuku this pumped since the ‘I wanna be a hero’ thing. The class is looking on, someone noting how confident Katsuki is. All Might continues to think as the two boys move in for their respective attacks, noting that this battle is necessary for Izuku’s future.

Izuku’s right arm crackles with the power of One For All as he begins to shout out his smash, while Katsuki’s prepping an explosion in his right hand. Kirishima shouts how bad this is and is almost begging All Might to stop this, and All Might is shaking with nerves as he holds back. He is just in the middle of telling the two to stop when Izuku shouts at Ochako, startling All Might into stopping. Ochako grabs the pillar, Tenya is confused, and Izuku watches Katsuki while he thinks about how he can’t measure up in a one-on-one fight, but.

Seriously, how did this building not collapse at all during this exercise???

Anyways, Ochako swings the pillar around, slamming all the other debris blown upwards towards Tenya in a ‘Comet Home Run’. Tenya says it’s no home run (which I imagine has to be in the exact same tone as ‘that’s no moon’) while shielding himself from said debris, which means he misses Ochako taking another flying leap towards the bomb until it’s too late.

Meanwhile, down below, Katsuki is looking at the damage done in absolute shock, like, he’s absolutely SHAKING as he repeats his belief that Izuku’s been mocking him from the start.

Izuku’s right arm is in ragged disrepair, and his left he used to block Katsuki’s explosion is not exactly in better shape. He’s quivering as well from the shock and pain as he tells Katsuki that he didn’t want to use his power because he can’t - the blowback messes him up too much. It’s like Aizawa-sensei said, but it was all he could do at that point to win.

This is really just a fantastic way to end the chapter. All Might’s hesitation as what just happened sinks in before he announces the win, Izuku finally collapsing unconscious as his body gives out on him, and Katsuki’s worldview thoroughly shaken as what just happened sinks in for him as well. Like, look at that, that is SUCH a mess of emotions he’s experiencing.

What a roller coaster of emotions. What a good character growth moment for everyone.

I suppose next chapter, then, is the fallout and some stuff from the other kids in 1a. Hopefully that will go up this weekend!

#readthrough #chapter 10 #opening arcs #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #yagi toshinori #uraraka ochako #Iida Tenya #katsuki.exe has stopped working #please reboot your system and try again #the next blow to katsuki's flawed and sheltered belief system #which he really needed here and now #in order to have the character growth he needed for later events

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Note

my friend, if you wrote me a college au and/or a soccer player au for buddie i would owe you my whole life

first of all LAUREN I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME A YEAR TO GET TO THIS XOXO i loved the idea of a soccer fic so much but i do not know anything about the sport to do it right so i hope this 4.5k mess is still to your taste <3

second of all smooches as always to @buckleydiazs for helping me level out the softboi energies [ilu bb]

Let it be known that Edmundo Diaz was not a subtle man.

Patient, sure. Kind, absolutely. But subtle? Definitely not.

“Eddie, are you paying attention?”

“To you? Always, Buckaroo.”

“I’ve told you before, it’s just Buck. So, what’s the answer to number four?”

No one was better at throwing the already minute amount of subtlety he had out the window than Evan Buckley. It should have been embarrassing—would have been, if it were anyone else—but that’s just how Buck was. If you didn’t love him, you were either an idiot, or an asshole, or both.

Eddie just happened to wear his... Buck-related emotions a little more on the sleeve than most.

“Ah, no, close, but you have to remember to multiply air resistance on both sides.”

“Right, thanks Buck-amuck.”

“Eddie, no.”

Buck was hot, sure, but more disastrously, he was cute. He was so cute, and he was nice, and Eddie wasn’t sure how much longer he was was going to last under the never ending amount of support and care he got from Buck before he combusted; and it had started at day one. College hadn’t been high on his list for a long time, the thought of starting college when most people his age were graduating something he didn’t know how to approach—but after his tour in Afghanistan all he wanted was a normal life, and Buck... well, Buck was a big help in that.

He wasn’t sure what he appreciated more—the fact that Buck didn’t treat him like some sort of hero after doing only a tour in Afghanistan, the fact that Buck didn’t give a fuck about his age (“Twenty three is not that old, Eddie, you’re barely four years older than me, stop being so dramatic”), or the fact that two weeks into their college career, when Buck walked in to find Eddie with his hand down his pants and distinctively male moans coming from his phone, instead of getting angry or being disgusted, he had almost passed out laughing at Eddie’s embarrassment.

“...no, hang on, how did you even get that number? Where did that come from?”

“Buck-uccino, I’m never going to get this. I’m doomed.”

“Eddie, you—oh god, never use that one again—you’re going to get it. We’ll keep working at it.”

That, though, that was the worst part about rooming with Buck. He was tenacious, or maybe just caring, or nice, or whatever—because when Eddie had started failed his Physics midterm and learned about the very real threat of academic probation (which would mean no grants, no scholarships, no more soccer), Buck had dropped everything and started tutoring Eddie whenever he could. Even now, he was smiling at Eddie like he believed he could do anything, and damn if Eddie didn’t want to believe him.

Buck was just that kind, that sweet, that good—and Eddie was that gone.

“Chim, keep your feet moving! Come on!”

As teasing as Eddie may have been wherever Buck was involved, he was completely different when he was on the field. He was every bit the teammate that commanded respect, pushed his players to do better, and kept his team motivated—enough that he had fit in seamlessly with the team, despite being only in his second year, despite his age gap, despite everything.

“Good, Bosco! Keep it up!”

If only Eddie could keep himself that motivated while he was studying. He tried, he really did—but he wasn’t sure if it was the continuous closeness of Buck as they poured over Eddie’s notes, or the impossibility of the materials he was studying (he was in the Army, for fucks sake, he didn’t need to care about the force exerted by his helicopters rotors—he only needed to know that it would fly), but every time they cracked open his physics book, it felt like Eddie was smashing his head into a brick wall.

Things just made more sense out here. Eddie was in his element, and anyone who knew him, who even looked at him, would know that—so it really, really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Chim jogged over to him, keeping his high knees going as he hopped in place, jerking his chin somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder while he and Hen worked on some touchless passes.

“Looks like you have a visitor.”

Eddie turned around from his position near the goal, squinting over to the tunnel, his face immediately brightening as he saw who it was. He kept himself moving in a jog as he closed the distance between he and Buck easily, all smiles as Buck looked up from his phone. Eddie had to laugh at the image of this kid standing in the middle of the tunnel, forcing the athletes who were running in and out of the locker room to move around him.

It made sense; Buck really was an immovable force.

Eddie wanted to kiss him so bad.

“Well, if it isn’t my good-luck-Buck!” Eddie said, pushing a wide smile onto his face and one of his favorite nicknames out into the air so he would stop staring at Buck’s lips when the other scowled. “What are you doing here?”

Sighing, Buck pushed back off the wall, raising a brow. “Well, I was going to give you a crash course in force, speed, air resistance, and velocity, but if you call me that again—”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Eddie said, legitimately smiling now as he slowed his pace, starting to catch his breath. “Here, I’ll grab my stuff and we can grab a bleacher or something, I’ll just be a—”

“Nope.” Buck said, popping the ‘p’, his annoyance easily forgotten as he playfully pushed Eddie’s shoulder back to the field. “Grab your team and a ball, we’re learning on the field.”

Eddie stared at him, confusion evident on his face for only a moment before he lit up in understanding, calling out to the rest of the team. He had to admit, this was definitely one of Buck’s better ideas—not that Buck had ever had a bad idea, for the record—but if you wanted a surefire way to get Eddie to pay attention to anything, you threw a soccer ball at it.

Eddie was pleased to know that Buck clearly knew at least that much about him, the feeling dancing in his gut with the reassurance he felt whenever he was reminded that his team had his back. They worked easily with Buck as he ordered them around, had them try different kicks, using the arc of the ball through the air to point out speed, force, gravity. Eddie wasn’t about to say that it was working, but it had to be a good thing that he was forced into a situation where he could focus on something other than Bucks’ voice, or the way that his skin felt when their hands brushed over a textbook.

No, there was no room for soft touches and smiles now; Eddie was stuck in a goal, the smile on Buck’s face far more devious than soft as he explained the rules of their next exercise. Buck was going to ask a question. Eddie was going to give the equation that could be used to solve the problem. It sounded easy enough, but—

"If you can give me the right equation to solve the problem, you get to use your hands to block the shot. If you don’t, you have to use your head.”

...okay, yeah, nothing about that sounded easy.

The fact that Eddie had a team full of sadists didn’t seem to help, either—he no longer cared about how nice they were being to Buck to help him help Eddie when they were really just in it to torment him. It wasn’t fair.

He tried to voice as much, but Buck just called him out for whining. Which was also unfair.

Worst of all was afterward; even after he was able to use his arms around half of the shots, his teammates were terrible, horrible people, and Chim proved exactly why once they retreated to the locker room.

“You know Diaz, I think you did pretty well out there.” he started, and Eddie immediately felt himself on guard—he knew that any compliment after an evening as brutal as that was likely to be designed to lull him into a false sense of security.

“...thanks, Chim.” he started, eyes narrowed. “I think I might actually have a change of this thing.” Chim clapped him on the back, the grin on his face telling Eddie all he needed to know, and he felt himself ready to groan when Chim cut him off.

“That’s good! I know it must have been hard for you, but, hey think about it this way. At the very least, Buck now knows that you can handle some balls flying at your face.”

Chim’s laugh turned into a sharp yelp as Eddie clipped him with a rat tail, but that didn’t prevent the words from echoing through his head for the rest of the night, cheeks burning bright red whenever he caught Buck looking at him funny.

“Alright, we’re done for the night. I can practically see the smoke pouring out of your ears.”

“It’s impossible, Buck-fifty. I’m gonna fail, and I’m gonna get kicked out, and you’ll never get to see my beautiful face ever again.”

Eddie groaned, head resting against the open textbook on the table, hiding his head in his hands. They had been studying off and on for weeks, and while Eddie was pretty proud of the things he had started to memorize and retain, he still didn’t know how they worked, how they fit together, how to chose one over the other in a problem, and he was starting to feel like he might never understand it.

“Christ, stop being dramatic. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and this class is not going to be the end of your world, not if I can help it. But what you need now is a break.” Buck said, ignoring the nickname and the dramatics in one fell swoop. He had his phone out in a half second, scrolling through a few different feeds, before his face lit up. “Come on, Lena invited the whole team over for a game night. We’re going to get you out of your head and you’re going to relax, damn it.”

Eddie wasn’t too proud to admit that his heart did a little flip when he realized that Lena and Buck were texting on the regular, something about his friends liking Buck (and Buck liking his friends!) making his heart swell. “I don’t know, Buck, maybe we should just stay in so I can work on my—“

“Nope.” Buck interrupted, popping the end of the word, pulling the book out from under Eddie’s head, ignoring the whine that Eddie gave when his head thunked against the table. “I’m serious, I’ve burned myself out many times before, you need to take the night and remember why you’re actually studying. Passing is great, but we both know the reason you’re working so hard isn’t for the class, it’s for your team, your friends.”

It’s for you, Eddie wanted to say, but the words died in his throat before he could even take a breath in.

They were on their way quickly enough, trekking easily to the Phi Sigma Chi sorority house .

Buck looked fucking adorable, cheeks pinked in the cold air, blond mop of curls peeking out from the brim of his beanie, and Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Buck, you know what Lena says when she means game night, right?” he asked as he threw his arm around Buck’s shoulder, relishing in the way that Buck easily fell into step next to him as they walked. Buck smiled up to him, practically batting his eyes, and Eddie felt himself melt. “Yeah, things like Mario Kart or Smash, right? Or maybe Clue? Monopoly?”

Three hours later, Eddie was seeing Buck in a whole new light—because Buck wasn’t just kind, and smart, and adorable.

Buck was a fucking hustler.

And Eddie was fucking hammered.

He let out a whoop of joy as Buck sunk another ping pong ball in front of Hen and Chim, winning their eighth game in a row, with Eddie taking every drink that anyone scored against their team (Buck was still underage, after all—Eddie may have been a dope where Buck was involved but he wasn’t an idiot).

The thing was, when you had a partner that was amazing at beer pong, you didn’t get to drink nearly as much, so no one could blame Eddie for supplementing himself with several shots throughout the night, one of which spilled as he loudly cheered for Buck’s incredible prowess. Buck laughed at a much more indoor-volume beside him, gasping as Eddie lifted him into the air and Hen let out a wail of defeat, idly shoving the cup toward Chim. Buck’s laugh turned about a pitch higher as Eddie spun, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, looking at him with starry eyes once he got Buck back down to his feet.

“Buck, you… you’re so… how are you so good?!” Eddie asked, voice a rasp of a whisper, like he was asking for the secrets of the universe, and Buck couldn’t have helped the way he smiled if he tried.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted a ping pong ball, twirling it between two of his fingers. “You know, physics? Just think, Eddie, you could use that big brain to be a beer pong champion.” He asked, laughing as Eddie threw his arms around his shoulder, a ragged exclamation of “YOU’RE SO SMART!” leaving his lips as Buck struggled to accommodate the sudden dead weight.

“Uh—“

“Okay, that’s usually a sign that it’s time for Eddie to go home.” Hen, his guardian angel, appeared next to him, helping Eddie stand a little more upright. “You guys walked, right? Karen can probably bring you back, I just—“

“Oh, no, that’s okay! I should be able to get him back, now that he’s upright.” Buck said, waving away her concern as he put Eddie’s arm around his shoulders, the other hand secure on his hip as they started to make their way to the front of the house.

Eddie might have been mostly incapacitated by that point, but that didn’t stop him from waving and saying what he thought was a perfectly coherent goodbye to everyone, the cold night air doing little (but still at least doing something) to help his coordination.

Eddie was content to walk in silence for only a moment, his head tilting onto his shoulder as he looked over to Buck, suddenly feeling so much lighter than he had a moment ago.

“Buck, you’re so nice to me.”

Buck was laughing. Why was Buck laughing? Eddie was completely serious.

“Buckinator, I’m serious. You’re so nice. And you’re smart, and you’re so pretty. Did you know?”

“Eddie, you are as drunk as you’ve ever been.” Buck murmured, shaking his head, and Eddie was definitely annoyed that it was night time—because he would have bet money that Buck was blushing.

Eddie started to whine as Buck pulled out his dorm card (“I’m not drunk, Buck! I’m serious!”), successfully swiping them both into the building and their room, depositing Eddie easily into his bed as he grabbed a bottle of water. He took a detour to their bathroom to pull out the little bottle of Advil he kept beneath the sink, handing Eddie both of them after cracking them both open.

Eddie stared at the pills in his hand, not entirely sure how he got there, his stomach tightening up as he looked up to Buck. “Hey Bucka… Buck, the… hey Buck?”

Okay, he was effectively drunk enough that he couldn’t think of a nickname. He popped the Advil into his mouth, swigging the water he was given as Buck closed the door, pulling Eddie’s blanket’s back. “What’s up, Eds?”

Eddie felt himself start to be lowered slowly, sluggishly tugging his feet up onto his bed, unsure as to where his shoes had gone, but he wasn’t going to complain. “We’ll still be friends if I end up failing out of school and having to become a hermit who… who lives under a bridge or something, right?” he managed to get out, and Buck’s eyes snapped up toward Eddie’s face. He wasn’t too sure when they had crossed the line from happy drunk to sad drunk, but damn, they had crossed that line at the speed of sound.

“Eddie, hey, no. You’re not going to fail out, and you’re going to be fine. Even if that doesn’t happen… you’re stuck with me, nerd. I’m not about to let you get away that easy.”

Eddie sniffled, nodding his head as Buck pulled his covers up, rolling to face the wall as he heard Buck change, the lights flicking off shortly after. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, closing his eyes as he felt the room start to wobble. He didn’t realize he was speaking until his mouth was already open, voice soft in the dark.

“I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

Eddie sniffed again, his breath slowing down as he heard Buck shift in his bed, just sober enough to feel Buck’s eyes digging into the back of his head, but just exhausted enough to slip into sleep instead of roll over, only barely listening as Buck responded.

“… just don’t give up, Eds. You got this, I know you do.”

The Sunday before the final that would decide his entire life (“I’m begging you, stop being such a drama queen.”), the last thing on Eddie’s mind was physics—he was too focused on the beautiful boy beneath him. He could have drowned in the noises Buck was making as Eddie kissed at his neck, his collar, his swollen lips, the cord of muscle in his neck. He felt Buck’s hands lace with his, the movement more intimate than anything he could have imagined, and he let out a groan as he rolled his hips down, grinding against Buck, and—

—and then Eddie woke up to a soccer ball bouncing off of his head.

Grunting in pained surprise, he shot straight up out of bed, almost falling to the floor, blankets pooling around his hips as he jerked his head around, focus snapping to the sound of Buck’s laughter.

(It was a small soothe to chase away the taste of Buck on his lips, the phantom feel of Buck’s body beneath his, flexing his hands like he could still feel their fingers laced together.)

“Buccaneer, what the fuck?!”

“Come on, we’re burning daylight. Aren’t you usually on the field, like, before the sun is up most days?”

“Yeah, maybe when my career wasn’t already over.” Eddie whined, rubbing at his eyes. Eddie wanted nothing more than to throw the blankets back up over his head and roll over—but he knew from experience that Buck would have just ripped his comforter off and dragged him outside, if he had to, and Eddie was in no... physical state (after the dream he had) to risk losing the safe amount of cover the blanket was currently providing.

Honestly, even after being beaned in the head by a soccer ball, he couldn’t stay mad—not when Buck was smiling at him, physics book and coffee in one hand, the other occupied once more as he bent down to pick up the ball. He really, really didn’t deserve Buck, and it made Eddie feel all the guiltier, knowing full well the thoughts that were running through his mind less than an hour ago.

Thankfully, Buck seemed to soften as Eddie’s emotions played across his face, sighing and rolling his eyes as he tossed Eddie the jersey hanging over the back of his desk chair. “Hey, it’s not over yet. You will get this, I promise. Now, It’s 9 AM, and you’re going to do your drills while I drill you.”

So he was just never going to get that image out of his head, ever. Cool.

An hour later, Eddie was dressed, on the field, working on his figure eights, fueled only by the coffee that Buck had brought him and a burning annoyance for the day as a whole as Buck launched question after question at him.

He kept up his pace as they went back and forth, moving through a few different drills as Buck continued to question him, asking about formulas, equations, situations, making Eddie walk through each step he would do if he had a calculator in front of him. It was exhausting, but Eddie couldn’t deny that it was working—and he really, really didn’t want to look to deeply into the little moments of pride he felt when Buck smiled at him and moved on to the next problem.

He was lining up a row of shots when Buck started on another problem, sinking each shot perfectly into the net, describing the relationship between friction, air resistance, and velocity, when Buck interrupts.

“No, that’s not right.”

Eddie’s next shot goes wide as he turns back to Buck, his eyes narrowed as he goes over everything in his head. “What?”

“Go over it again.” Buck has his head mostly hidden behind the practice exam, and Eddie felt himself fall out of step for a moment before he pulled back for another kick.

“I know the force of gravity.” Eddie started, another kick sinking directly into the goal, refocusing himself.

“And I know the falling distance and the mass.” He continued, taking a sneak peek back at Buck, who quickly ducked his head again.

“And,” another kick, another goal. “I know the equation for air resistance, because you’ve basically pummeled it into my head.” He said, Buck’s little laugh not unnoticed, and Eddie smiled in spite of his frustration.

He lined up his next shot and sunk it, chewing on his lip.

“Then I was right, Buck!” Eddie said, pacing back and forth between the cones he had set up. “I would measure the change in distance and double it, I would divide it by the total time minus the air resistance, and I would subtract the initial velocity. That’s, like, textbook, what could I possibly have—“ Finally catching Buck’s eye, Eddie paused, thrown for a loop as Buck put the practice test down, expression stopping Eddie dead in his tracks.

Because Buck was absolutely beaming at him.

“You’re ready.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie was glad that he had already launched his last ball into the net, because he literally tripped over his feet, catching himself at the last moment as he jogged over to where Buck was sitting, peering over his shoulder.

Every answer that Eddie had given had been circled on the practice exam, not a drop of red ink anywhere on the page. “Wait, I got them right? I... I was right?”

“Even when I tried to tell you you were wrong—which you weren’t, by the way—you still stuck to what you knew, you were confident enough not to second guess yourself, and you proved it. Eddie, you’re ready. You’re going to crush it.”

Eddie looked at the test, then back at Buck, then back at the test, and he couldn’t resist it—he picked Buck up, laughing ecstatically as he spun Buck in his arms. He was feeling more confident than he had in an age and a half, and he knew he had the dopiest expression on his face when he set Buck down, his hands still linked around Buck’s waist.

…with Buck’s hands resting on his shoulders.

“I knew you could do it, Eds.” Buck said, and Eddie felt his face heating up. He had never doubted Buck, not for a minute, even while he was still racked with his own insecurities—but any thanks, any recognition, any anything, were drowned out in Eddie’s throat as Buck moved his hand off of Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie could have sworn he saw stars when he felt the warmth from Buck’s hand rest right against the crook of his neck, thumb on Eddie’s pulse point, his eyes wide as Buck smiled. “I’m really, really proud of you.”

Eddie felt like he was living in a dream his hands sliding down to hold Buck’s hips, half expecting Buck to pull away—finding his smile even brighter instead. Buck looked so happy, so content to be in Eddie’s arms, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling, and Eddie had to swallow, feeling the contrast to himself—sweating, out of breath, probably a little crazy eyed, but… Buck was still looking at him like that.

“Buck, I’m… Can I, um... can I?” Eddie found himself murmuring, chewing his bottom lip. It would kill him right now to let Buck go, when he was this close—but of course, if Buck said the word, he would have leapt back like he was on fire.

He wasn’t sure if it was relief or elation that he felt, heart pounding, when Buck leaned in instead of answering, his thumb catching just the corner of Eddie’s lip before Buck’s lips met his own.

Kissing Buck was like finding God—and yeah, that was probably the worst possible analogy he could have made, but it was true. Buck kissed him and suddenly everything felt right, something sliding into place so deeply in his heart and soul that he had no idea how he had been surviving without.

He felt more than he heard Buck moan against his lips and he came crashing down into his own body, pulling back just enough to breathe, unable to keep the huge smile off of his own face. He had to duck his head, the moment getting to be a bit too much for him, the typical enthusiastic show he put up dulled for a moment as he looked up to Buck through his lashes.

“So... that’s okay, then?”

Buck only laughed, tilting Eddie’s head up for another small kiss. “Eddie, that was great. I’ve been gone on you since, like, the first shitty nickname you gave me.” he said, his voice dipping, suddenly going red as he realized what he said—but the damage was already done.

Eddie’s eyes lit up as he tightened his grip around Buck, his grin spreading so far across his face that it actually hurt.

“Ten-point-Buck. Buck-a-boo. Bucky bear.”

“Eddie, no, that wasn’t supposed to encourage you.”

“...does this mean I get to grab your bubble-Buck?” Eddie asked sweetly, throwing his head back and laughing as Buck buried his head in his shoulder, face burning red.

(Eddie passed his final, obviously—but as excited as he was with the big, red, 91 circled at the top of his page, nothing compared to the warmth he felt when he opened the door to his dorm and found Buck waiting for him in one of his old jerseys. He easily caught Buck in his arms as he jumped, choosing to catch Buck’s lips in a kiss rather than say anything.

After all, he may have had a thousand nicknames at the ready, but for Eddie, nothing compared to calling Buck “mine”.)

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911au #college au #I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT SORRY I DON'T KNOW SHIT ABOUT SOCCER #i also hope you like the nicknames because eddie is a cornball #soccer eddie #tutor buck #oh my god they were roommates #mutually assured devotion #flospeaks #floanswers #tylerhunklin

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criminalmutantsins · 3 years

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Hi everyone! Ever since I’ve seen some Instagram posts about TMNT fans’ versions of the show, I’ve wanted to do this. But most of them had drawings so I felt insecure since I’m not a great artist. But I still wanted to give it a try.

Anyway, lets get this started.

Note: This is in beta and changes might happen in the future.

…………………………………

It all starts similarly like the other versions.

The turtles want to explore the city and sneak out. Everything is as normal as New York can be, but it changes when the ninja turtles come across a certain red head (😉) sneaking around. They follow her and discover an alien ship. Having no choice to take the role as the new girl’s protectors, the turtles watch over as she gains information on the aliens such as their species- the Kraang- and their objective with Earth. When the girl is captured, the brothers save her and escape.

She reveals herself to be April O’Neil and explains what she was doing. April is a high school sophomore who works in a news station as an intern, and she wants to prove her abilities with a breakout story. Unlike other versions, the turtles and April don’t have an immediate connection and have no expectations to meet again. The turtles are distrustful of humans since their father/sensei warned them that being accepted by humans will be nearly impossible. Due to underlying issues, April is prone to avoiding people and rarely lets anyone in, except her roommate and best friend Irma. It would take a few episodes for their friendship to really grow and develop.

Splinter doesn’t intervene with his sons’ visits to the city for weeks until they come back injured from a Kraang fight. He decides to ban them from leaving the house in his extreme view of keeping them safe. Splinter lifts the rule when he learns the gravity of the Kraang. With that, he trains his sons harder than ever.

The first season focuses on the brothers’ relationship and growth as a team. Leo learns how to mature and become a leader; Donnie learns to follow his instincts more. Raphael learns to get over his insecure and impulsive nature. Mikey learns to be more mature and open with negative feelings.

The Shredder takes a backseat as the villain until season two, though he appears in season one alongside Karai.

[B]“A” Plots:

-Turtles vs. Kraang

-Leo, Donnie, Raph, and Mikey arcs begin: 1-3 episodes will focus on each of them

-April/Turtles’ Friendship

[B]“B” Plots:

-April’s Past

-Splinter’s Past

-Shredder

-Karai/Leo’s Relationship

-Casey/April/Irma Friendship

……………………………

This is all I have so far. I’ve only just started on this and I mostly focused on characterization and character development. I’ll have more info to reveal once I post about the characters. I’ve been thinking about writing my version as a book, but I don’t know. It would be fun to see people’s thoughts.

I hope you enjoyed it! 😊

Comment your thoughts.

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kittae · 4 years

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Under The Missiletoe [1]

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Genre: Sci-fi, fantasy, Fluff, a lil bit of comedy,... we’ll see what else!

words: 5k

summary: Yoongi is an extraterrestrial scout, sent by his superiors from his home planet BT21, to gauge the chances of successfully usurping planet Earth. When his ship lands, it’s December 24th. Yoongi is tasked with observing the strange behavior of Earth’s inhabitants to get a good idea of whether or not they would pose a threat. Satisfied with what he finds, he prepares to go back home. His ship seems to have become defect in the meantime, leaving him stranded on Earth. He strolls into a convenience store (he needed to gather some evidence to present to his superiors anyway) and finds a lonely girl, one who’s not smiling. His curiosity gets the best of him.

Author’s note: The first part of this fic, because I got too many ideas while writing and it escalated (as expected)! This will have a second installment soon! I really enjoy writing this, so I hope you’ll have fun reading it! (please excuse errors, I used up all my juice to finish this so editing is for another day!)

Warning: only a liiiittle bit of violence and some swearing for now!

→ Part of the stranded for christmas Collab!

“This is ISV Aeron, reporting to home base, do you copy?”

“This is BT21 home base, Avalon station, I copy.”

“Requesting permission to disclose travel log.”

“Permission granted.”

“Approaching destination Earth, ready to enter atmosphere. Vehicle deficiency tests all negative. Landing coordinates approximately 41° 52' 54.5952'' N and 87° 37' 23.4372'' W.”

“Any abnormal observations so far?”

“Negative.”

“Proceed with landing process and notify us after arrival. Keep defensive appliances close for your own safety. In case of hostile activity, proceed as seen in training and return to home base immediately. Good luck, captain Min.”

“Copy that, sir.”

A single tap on the earpiece ends the conversation immediately. This is, hopefully, the last time he’d hear a familiar voice for a while. Aside from notifying them of a successful landing, he’s only supposed to initiate contact with his home base in case of emergency or at take-off. So far, though, everything has gone surprisingly smooth.

The cosmic ball of life, encircled by a radiant, blue light, grows rapidly in size as he approaches its atmosphere. Years of training and simulations prepared him for the intense turbulence and other kinds of impact he puts his small but agile ship through, once he breaks through the barrier and gravity takes over. The vehicle soars through the mesosphere like a rocket, small droplets of sweat dampening the hair underneath his helmet when the ship externally catches fire. He doesn’t panic, knowing the material has been designed for this mission –and all that comes with it– specifically. This is Yoongi’s cue to start braking, drastically decreasing the velocity with which he’s rocketing towards the surface.

Despite having gone through countless simulations, the real thing proves to be more challenging than anticipated. He holds his breath as he keeps a tight grip on the steering element, controlling the ship to the best of his abilities. He already knows it’s going to be a rough landing, but nothing he can’t handle. It requires incredible amounts of focus and precision, considering he’ll be landing near a densely populated area and wants to remain unnoticed. For now.

There’s an open field behind the woods, large enough for him to land safely and secluded enough to hide his ship from curious humans. This is his target. With the speed he’s still going, though, it’ll be tough to land precisely where he wants. Good thing there’s no better pilot than him.

Only a few more seconds before he’ll reach the ground, when Yoongi stays calm and collected as he swiftly creates the necessary combinations from the impressive control panel. He easily knows his way around the countless buttons and gears, lights and wheels. The high technology of the ship is like a second home to him. One he’ll leave for something entirely unknown, soon.

As expected, the ship lands neatly in the field, with space to spare. However, as Yoongi predicted, it’s a rather rough landing. The ship was still going slightly too fast for a smooth one, but he needed the speed as not to land in the trees instead. The vehicle shocks and shakes when it hits the ground, grating off the grass and several layers of earth as it digs itself into the soil for a couple more meters until it comes to a full stop. The body of the ship, made from extremely valuable metals from his home planet, still smoulders when the door automatically opens.

The night has already fallen, it seems. There aren’t many stars visible in the sky, their light compromised by the artificial illumination coming from the city. Yoongi feels the icy breeze fan over his cheeks when he steps outside. He remembers learning about a phenomenon on Earth, called ‘seasons’. Because of the planet’s tilted axis, throughout the year, different parts of Earth receive the Sun’s most direct rays. Having studied this planet until he knew its mannerisms and workings inside and out, Yoongi came prepared.

His team has arranged a collection of garments for him to wear, to blend in with the humans and stay protected against this planet’s unpredictable atmospheric conditions. Something to place on his head, and around his hands. It still feels odd and unnatural, but he doesn’t feel like returning home with some strange human disease, caused by his own carelessness. He can’t risk putting his own kind in danger by causing an epidemic. If there’s one thing he’s learned about humans, it’s that they’re walking disease mills. The best thing he can do for himself is to keep himself at a safe distance, and not let his own immune system dwindle under any circumstances.

With that thought in mind, he wraps a long and thick piece of fabric around his neck and throat. It instantly adds warmth and comfort. Better safe than sorry. Adjusting to this planet might not be such a challenge after all. He’s sure he’s got quite the hang of it already.

Another tap on the earpiece reconnects him with the station. “This is ISV Avalon, here to notify BT21 homebase of safe landing with exact coordinates 41° 52' 54.5952'' N and 87° 37' 23.4372'' W. No threats so far, presumably because of the wild vegetative environment. Will now explore the field closer to the subjects, after ensuring the vehicle’s preservation. This was captain Min, ISV Avalon, going offline until further notice.” His hot breath creates a cloud of steam, evaporating in the cold air, when he heaves a slightly tense sigh. Getting the ship to land safely was the easy part. Now comes the hard part: observing the subjects.

Fishing a tiny remote the size of a fingernail out of the pocket of his jacket, it only takes one click to hide the ship entirely by activating the invisibility shield. This way, no snooping humans will find it. His snooping, however, has yet to begin.

Fairly confident in his knowledge and training, he starts walking towards the forest. It’s not long until he finds the city, bare before him underneath a tall hill. Despite his usually unwavering professionalism, he can’t keep his heart from beating faster the closer he gets to the streets. After all, he’s worked towards this moment his entire life. The moment he gets to see planet Earth and its inhabitants with his own two eyes. He’s always been fascinated by this project and finally, after hundreds of years, he’s the one who gets to play the most important role of all.

Only one other has stood where he stands. Well, not precisely in this spot, but he came to Earth with the same objective. Unfortunately, he never made it back to BT21. As it so appeared, he got caught in the middle of a warfare waged amongst the humans, at the time. As such, the first attempt of accomplishing this mission had failed. Now, over seventy years later –although time means little to his kind, since it’s a human construct– the honour has fallen upon him. Bringing this mission to a successful end would mean great progress for his people. The beginning of a new era. The failed attempt of his predecessor was not in vain, however, as it provided them with loads of valuable information. Information he could now use, to be better prepared.

Turning his wrist to face the sky, the minuscule chip underneath his skin starts glowing. It creates a holographic screen, showing his reflection and ready to record.

“Captain’s log, day one, shortly after arrival on planet Earth. It is night time as I approach the city, and I can hear strange sounds coming from the streets. Despite it being dark, it doesn’t seem to stop the humans from going outside. We believed they tend to rest when night falls, yet there seem to be a significant amount of people, conscious and busy. This is my first observation, and already they prove to be rather interesting. I’m going to take a closer look, yet keep my weapons close to me, should they make an attempt to attack.”

The screen is gone as quickly as it came and his wrist stops glowing, making him appear completely normal again. Another big benefit, is that his kind and humans have no apparent physical differences, at first glance. He looks just like one, which makes it so much easier to explore their planet. Scientists back home believe their kind must have evolved from humans, a long, long time ago. Although it’s clear that the ones on Earth are much more primitive, still, he doesn’t classify himself as human. There are too many differences if one looks past outer appearance.

Even though he feels excitement, walking into the busy streets filled with music and vibrating with lively energy, he remains cautious. Some people are already looking at him in a strange way, but he feels it’s innocent curiosity seeing as they smile and laugh. A positive indicator.

“Why is he dressed like that?” He hears a male utter to his female companion as they walk by.

“Shhh, not so loud! Some people are just really into vintage fashion, Connor. I think it’s cool.” She replies.

Yoongi instantly catches their short exchange of words, despite their lousy attempt to keep it quiet. It makes him think. He has no clue what ‘vintage’ or ‘cool’ means, but he figures it’s the clothes, drawing too much attention to him. Now he’s really looking around, he realises no one is wearing garments even remotely resembling his. He needs to find a way to fix this. He’s not blending in as well as he’d expected.

His first challenge here on Earth comes sooner than he would’ve liked, but he knew it was inevitable. Still, he keeps his calm and reminds himself of the extensive lessons in Humanology. Walking into one of the large buildings, showcasing garments behind tall windows, he acts indifferent, mimicking the behaviour of the people around him. He observes some racks, faintly recognizing the clothes as those for female humans. Women, he believes they’re called here. He shouldn’t dwell here for much longer, or people will notice something’s off about him. On to the male garment section!

These look more like the ones the males on the street are wearing, and he knows he’s in the right place.

“Hello, sir. Can I be of any help?” A voice sounds from behind him, startling him so badly he instinctively reaches for his laser gun. He stops himself just in time when he realises the human most likely means no harm in this context. He appears to be submissive, and asks to assist. This might be easy after all!

Yoongi clears his throat before he speaks to a human for the first time. “Indeed. I need garments, young male.”

The young man blinks a few times, confusion showing on his face for a split second, before he collects himself again, putting his thoroughly practiced customer service smile back on. “Of course, sir. What are you looking for, exactly?”

Yoongi thinks about that question for a second. “Not...vintage. Or cool. None of those concepts.”

The store clerk enthusiastically claps his hands, making Yoongi flinch. “Ah! A man with taste, I see! You’ve come to the perfect place, sir. We pride ourselves in our eye for highly stylish and qualitative fashion without following short-lived hype. You know how it is with kids these days, one moment they’re all crazy about the newest designs and the next it’s something totally different. Apparently, now, it’s vintage. Those second-hand stores are even getting popular because of it. The older the better, can you believe it?”

The clerk eyes Yoongi up and down and visibly regrets his words after realising what he’s wearing, oblivious to the fact Yoongi didn’t understand a single thing of his rambling, anyway. Still, he nods as if he did and lets the young man lead the way.

“This is part of our new collection.” The man adds when he stops in front of a rich

black, cashmere turtleneck sweater. “Now, I admit, it is a bit pricier but you’ll find the material to be divine. It’s also perfect to wear with the holidays–”

“I will purchase this item.” Yoongi nods curtly, approving of this simple garment. The colour is attractive and it looks warm.

“Wonderful!” The clerk’s face lights up with joy and Yoongi wonders what he did to make this human so happy. “This turtleneck is also great in combination with these trousers, shoes and coat.”

Yoongi carefully examines the other items, which the assistant mistakes as doubt.

“I’ll bring these to the fitting room so you can try them on, sir. You will see how well they’ll fit you once you wear them.”

Not sure what a fitting room is, Yoongi follows the man nevertheless. The garments are being neatly hung on hooks on the wall, as the clerk gestures for Yoongi to go inside the cabin. He decides to trust this friendly human, but remains suspicious when the curtain closes behind him. He guesses that he’s supposed to switch his old garments for the new ones in here.

Fortunately, he’s had some experience with these types of clothing and manages to put them on correctly. It looks completely different, but in a good way. He’s sure he won’t draw any unwanted attention like this.

Making use of the privacy he’d obtained inside this cabin, he takes the chance to record another short log.

“Captain’s log, day one, shortly after the first one. I have come to the conclusion that the garments prepared for me by my team are not sufficient. Apparently, time is very important here on Earth. A lot of things change in short periods. My garments caused me to draw too much attention, so I went into a Garment Building to purchase modern ones. I am currently inside something they call a ‘fitting room’, which is a cabin they close with a piece of cloth to ensure physical privacy. Remember, humans detest public nudity. This is why I manage to create this log, undisturbed.”

He lowers his wrist to showcase his new outfit. “These are the garments I will be purchasing. I think they are far more visually pleasing than the ones prepared for me. It is possible that these humans have evolved in this short period of time, which amazes me. I am most inquisitive about what other changes I will discover. These humans seem tame in comparison to the ones my predecessor, Minho, has described. This would mean great success in regards to this mission. I will now continue my exploration.”

When he comes out of the fitting room, fully changed into his new attire, the store clerk stands there, waiting for him dutifully. Even if he heard Yoongi talk to himself in there, he doesn’t make a comment on it. He just assumes he’s some kind of popular, new influencer doing vlogs, especially with the weird way he speaks. When he sees Yoongi, a dramatic gasp tears from his lips.

“You look stunning, sir! Absolutely ravishing!” He places a hand on his chest to steady himself. “I have never seen a more perfect picture than you, standing here before me!”

Yoongi assumes the young male is complimenting him, although it makes him feel a little bit uneasy. It’s human custom to return the kindness, however. “...Thank you. You look very...stunning...too.”

This makes the young man blush. “Why, sir, you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you? I’m sure you have people lining up to date you.”

“Date?” Yoongi murmurs, confused. Isn’t that some kind of combat technique? “Ah, yes! Many people would like to… date me, but they have never succeeded!” He announces proudly.

“As expected.” The clerk winks and Yoongi flinches again. What an odd gesture. Still, Yoongi feels reassured now that this complete stranger recognizes his exceptional combat skills.

“Are you taking all of these, sir? Or are there some things you aren’t completely sure of?” He asks Yoongi, gesturing at the clothes he’s wearing.

“I approve of all of these items. I would like to purchase the set.” Yoongi lets him know as he takes out the pocket with currency, also provided for him by his team.

“Excellent decision! Would you like to change back into your other clothes or would you prefer to keep this outfit on?”

“I have no use for the garments I came here with. These fresh ones will remain on my body.”

“Perfect! Then, please follow me to the cash desk, sir.”

Yoongi complies, emptying the pocket on the desk in front of the cheerful shopping assistant. He doesn’t even get fazed at Yoongi’s strange behaviour anymore. Remarkable adaptation abilities, these humans!

“Is this enough currency to purchase?” Yoongi asks.

The young man behind the desk throws a brief, hesitant look at the pile of cash money, but quickly answers with a syrupy sweet smile. “Let me count that for you, sir.”

To Yoongi’s relief, the assistant manages to collect the correct amount of money after counting for a few minutes.

“You may want to invest in a credit card, sir. It would certainly make a lot of things much easier...for you, of course.”

“Ah, yes. Certainly.” Yoongi smiles while putting the surplus of cash back in his pocket. He has no idea what a ‘credit card’ could be.

When he exits the building, it is with a newfound confidence and era-appropriate outfit. The human who assisted him didn’t suspect a thing! Yoongi always knew he’d be quite competent for the job, but if he had known it would only take this much effort for him to blend in? He wouldn’t have had all those sleepless nights back home, perfecting his imitations. Well, maybe it’s because he stayed up late, studying human behaviour, that got him so far. Yet it seems like all it really took was a change of garments.

He roams the streets with a calmer heart now, feeling safe enough to observe more details. The more he learns, the better they can prepare themselves for the next installment of the plan. Everywhere, music plays. Different melodies are flowing into each other as they come out of the stores. There’s one in particular Yoongi keeps hearing until he starts to recognize the words.

“...Make my wish come true. All I want for christmas, is you.” He quietly sings along under his breath, cheeks flushed either from the cold or the embarrassment, wondering what his peers back home would think of such behaviour. Still, he comforts himself with the thought that no one can hear him unless he contacts them himself. Enjoying human music will be his little secret to keep from his time on Earth.

Christmas. The word keeps popping up, everywhere he looks and in everything he hears. It must be something very important.

As he continues to ponder over what this ‘Christmas’ could be, he follows the brightly illuminated decorations, hanging at the top of the buildings and over the streets. He’s so deep in thought, he doesn’t even notice how he’s walking away from the city centre and into a dark neighborhood. There are no festive lights, no music or vibrant crowds. When Yoongi notices the sudden silence, he also perceives the sound of footsteps, matching his own.

Upon turning around, he finds a strange man wielding a blade of some sort. Yoongi understands he’s finally being threatened, and slowly reaches for his laser gun.

“You look like some posh fucker. Walking around this part of town in those nice clothes, huh? Bet you got money to spare.” The assailant hisses, moving closer as he speaks.

Yoongi stays quiet and doesn’t move an inch as he lets the thug come closer. He just needs to be patient.

“What, cat got your tongue? Those fancy clothes didn’t come with a witty answer? You rich fucks are usually good at that, no?” The foul man is now within arm’s length, the blade dangerously close to Yoongi’s abdomen. This is his time to strike.

Faster than the blink of an eye, Yoongi overpowers the unsuspecting male with few but extremely precise moves. The man is now subjected to his mercy, his shoulder in a painful angle and with a strange weapon in his face.

“What is your objective?” Yoongi calmly asks.

“My...my what?!” The thug squeaks in between pain-induced hisses.

“Your objective. What is the reason for your attack?”

The man stares at him in disbelief. “Wh- isn’t that obvious?! Your money, man! I wanted your money!”

“Money?” Yoongi muses. “You would harm one of your own, for currency?”

“A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” Is the criminal’s response. “Please, let me go… I’ll leave you alone, I promise!”

“Hm, not much persistence, I see.” Yoongi tuts, a tad bit disappointed. “I expected your kind to be more violent.”

The other says nothing, opting to go cross-eyed looking at Yoongi’s weapon instead.

“Tell me something.” Yoongi demands.

“Anything. Anything if you let me live. Please…”

“What is this...Christmas? What does it mean?”

Confusion is written all over the thug’s face. “Ch-christmas? Y-you don’t know what Christmas is?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, briefly losing his composure. He doesn’t appreciate his intelligence being questioned by a lowly human like this. “Since I am asking something like you to enlighten me, you may assume that I am not yet informed about this concept.”

The man nods fervently. “Ch-christmas is… You know, it’s… It’s a popular holiday. People buy each other gifts. There’s Santa Claus–”

“Santa Claus?” Yoongi frowns.

“Yeah, he’s like, uh, a fat Finnish dude with a white beard and red clothes and he gives presents to children.”

“Why is that?”

“I- I don’t know, he… Just does? It’s not real, anyway, people just dress up like him at the mall to earn a few extra bucks.”

Yoongi has a really hard time understanding the language this male is speaking, but his curiosity has not yet been satisfied.

“So, this… Santa Claus. He gives human offspring gifts? That’s what christmas is?”

“Well, no… Not really–”

“You dare lie to me, human?” Yoongi growls, pushing the tip of his weapon into the man’s cheek.

“No! Of course not!” He squeaks, “I just meant that it’s not the most important thing about Christmas! Christmas is about… It’s about family. Spending time with your family, exchanging gifts with each other. The Santa Claus thing is all marketing but people come together on Christmas.”

“Why?” He asks again.

“Because they love each other.” The man’s tone of voice suddenly changes. He sounds...saddened. “They spend time with each other, eat food, play games… It’s a time for families and friends to come together and enjoy each other’s company.”

That confuses Yoongi. “But you’re alone. If it is Christmas, why are you roaming the streets, attacking people for currency? Why are you not with your family to do Christmas?”

The thug lets his head hang, no longer even afraid of Yoongi’s weapon. “Because I have no one to spend it with.”

A strange feeling stirs inside Yoongi’s chest. He can’t really place it, and it makes him uncomfortable. Time to end this interrogation.

“I much appreciate your cooperation. I will spare your life.” He decides, reaching for another device, stored in his pocket, and aiming it at the strange man.

“Wait– you said you’d spare me!” The other panics, but it’s too late.

One simple flick of Yoongi’s thumb activates the device, sending sonic waves into the direction of his target. The man loses consciousness almost instantly, only to fall asleep on the cold concrete of the street.

“You are a pitiful being.” Yoongi murmurs before he drags the limp, unconscious body of the thug into a more secluded alley. He leaves him there, but not before zipping up his garments to its full capacity and putting some currency in his pockets. He’s not quite sure why he did that.

He needs to confirm this male’s theory. If what he said is true, then Yoongi’s job here is done.

On his way back, he shamelessly peers through the windows and into people’s houses to observe their activities. And just as the thug explained, he sees humans from varying ages gathered in their houses. Smiling, eating, laughing. Giving each other wrapped objects, which he assumes are the ‘presents’. They seem completely harmless. Defenseless, even. He could wipe out this entire city on his own, and with ease.

Not once, aside from the incident with the pitiful male earlier, has he encountered armed humans like his predecessor had described. The time for warfare on Earth appears to have passed, and with it, people have become comfortable in their little bubble of safety. They let their guard down, making it all too easy for a foreign civilisation to usurp their whole planet. Home after home, he finds the same scene of happy, carefree humans, enjoying sustenance and each other’s presence. This is not even the challenge he’d secretly hoped for. It almost feels...wrong.

He can’t let himself dwell on useless emotions like this, however. His kind has evolved too far to attach any importance to things like feelings. This is good news. He needs to return to BT21 immediately. His stay has been far shorter than he’d expected and, granted, he’d like to extend his knowledge about humans further, yet he feels relieved to go home.

Yoongi turns his back on the streets that fascinated him only shortly before, to make his way through the forest once again. As he reaches the open field, harbouring his hidden ship, he presses the tiny remote to lift the shield. Nothing happens.

Frowning, he tries again. Still no luck. When the tiny remote starts to glow a pulsing red, he knows what the problem is. His ship is still in time-out, needing at least twenty-four hours to repair itself and recuperate from the rough landing. This to ensure a safe trip back home. For at least twenty-four hours, the ship will be in sleep mode, and there is nothing Yoongi can do to activate it sooner. Meaning, the radio connection is also down at the moment. He can’t even notify the home base of his discovery.

This might not be so bad after all. At least now, he has an excuse to keep exploring just a little bit more. The curiosity tickles and the city beckons him to return.

Of all days, you hadn’t thought your boss would make you work on freaking Christmas Eve. So what, your family lived abroad and neither of you could afford plane tickets so you’d be alone anyways, but is that a reason to make anyone work the night shift during the holidays?! Ridiculous.

It’s almost midnight and only a handful of people have passed through the convenience store this evening. Which isn’t surprising, considering most people are cozying up at home with their families, drinking good wine and eating good food. Giving each other presents. You know your mom sent you a gift, but it hasn’t been delivered yet. You expect it to arrive somewhere this week, though.

It’s stupid. It’s stupid you have to work on what’s supposed to be a magical night, to keep a store open for only a couple of customers. He could’ve easily decided to just close for tonight.

You sigh, defeated, before you stretch your arms above your head and leave your counter to get some fresh air. If you’d smoke, you would have something to do. You’re bored and miserable and you want to go home and make yourself a carb fest while binging your favorite Netflix series. But you need the money. College tuitions don’t pay themselves.

Only a minute after you’d sat back down behind your counter, sneakily watching some episodes on your phones, a new customer walks in. You pause Netflix to greet them, albeit a bit half-heartedly. Most people coming in at this our need cigarettes or booze. When you look up, though, you don’t see your typical after-midnight customer. You’re facing one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen in your life. And he’s holding a black cat?

“Ah… greetings. I found this creature,” he holds the cat up in a rather clumsy manner, “It vibrates.”

What in the…?

#bts #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic #suga #bts suga #suga fanfic #yoongi fic #suga fic #bts au #yoongi x reader #bts x reader

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arrantsnowdrop · 4 years

Text

Early Morning Mayhem - Poe Dameron x reader (fluff)

Warnings: some mentions of anxiety, other than that it's pretty fluffy, 2,735 words

A/N: This was not requested but I've had this idea since I watched TROS (which was literally months ago at this point). I haven't written for the Star Wars fandom before but I'd love to write some stuff for characters from any of the three trilogies, Rogue 1, or the several tv series-es! Request away if you have any ideas/concepts I could make into some oneshots, and enjoy this fun little Poe fic :)

When Snap Wexley joined the Resistance, he begged you to come with him. You had been neighbors since you were children growing up on Akiva, and were nearly inseparable by the time you were five. When you were ten, Nora Wexley taught you both how to fly, and when you were twelve, you helped him cope with her sudden departure. You collected scrap metal and spare parts for him to sell when he opened his small business, and when his mother finally returned, you kept the shop open while he helped her hunt down Imperial fugitives.

You were blatantly displeased when he told you he’d been recruited as a fighter pilot, and rightfully so. The last thing you wanted was for your best friend to get blown up into a million tiny pieces. Naturally, your concerns sparked a heated debate about the soundness of his decision:

“I’m just worried, that’s all,” you said exasperatedly.

“(Y/n), I’m literally the best pilot you know,” Snap joked. You rolled your eyes.

“The First Order isn’t going to give a damn about how great you are while they’re trying to kill you!” A pause. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Snap. I wouldn’t be able to deal with it if you did,” you said softly.

“So come with me then,” Snap replied instantly. You blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Come with me, join the Resistance. You’ll be able to know where I am and what I’m doing all the time, so you’ll be less worried,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Yea, but what will I do?” you asked. “I’m not gonna enlist as a pilot, we both know I can’t fly under pressure.” Snap chuckled and nodded.

“True, but you’re also the best mechanic I know. I’m sure the Resistance is gonna need someone to fix all the X-wings I’m bound to break.”

You laughed quietly, then looked around at the stacks of broken machinery piled high in Snap’s home.

“What about the shop?” you asked.

“(Y/n),” Snap said seriously, “the Resistance is going to support you way more than any profits from this place ever will.” He gestured wildly to the store around him. “This isn’t important. You’d be stupid to stay if you’re thinking about the money.”

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully (a nervous habit). Finally you looked back up at him.

“I’ll do it,” you stated firmly.

“Really?”

“Really.”

When you arrived at the Resistance base on D’Qar, Snap had eagerly introduced you to Goss Toowers, one of the senior starship mechanics for the Resistance’s fleet. Goss had been thrilled you wanted to join the technical crew, and offered you a position as a mechanic right away (“This is so exciting, we love getting new members on tech crew,” he had gushed happily. You couldn’t help but smile).

You found that the Resistance’s fleet of T-70 X-wings were quite similar to the T-65 models you had learned to fly with Snap back home, just with slightly different engines and weapons pods. It didn’t take you long to establish yourself as one of the most skilled mechanics on the tech crew, with the most severely damaged X-wings going directly to your station after battles.

You had to admit, you understood why Snap had been so eager to join the Resistance. You felt like you had become a part of something much bigger and more important than yourself, and you truly enjoyed every moment of your job.

You also enjoyed getting to know the many technicians and pilots you worked with. You’d always been more reserved with people you didn’t know well, but it had only taken you a few days to become close friends with Jess Pava.

Jess had also made it her mission to introduce you to as many of the fighter pilots as she could (“Then you can know whose X-wing you’re fixing,” she’d pointed out). While it was certainly overwhelming at first, you were more than grateful for the new friendships you had formed.

That being said, there were many pilots you had yet to meet, including the famed Poe Dameron.

It wasn't like you didn’t know who he was, everyone knew about Commander Dameron and his seemingly endless list of accomplishments - you’d even performed repairs on his distinct X-wing once or twice . Still, the closest you had gotten to meeting him was when you watched him climb out of his slightly damaged cockpit after a narrow victory over the First Order; he’d disappeared into a sea of celebrating rebels before you’d gotten the chance to say hello.

That’s why it was startling when he ran up to you in the cafeteria in the middle of the night, asking you to fix his ship.

There had been a small skirmish the day before that had escalated into a larger fight, resulting in many casualties. The mechanic team had spent the entire day fixing up the X-wing fleet, which had proved to be quite exhausting.

By midnight, most of your fellow mechanics had gone to bed, saving the rest of the repairs for the next day. You’d finally decided that your lack of energy was inhibiting your ability to work, so you’d decided to get a few hours of sleep before resuming the repairs.

You were just grabbing a cup of tea on the way to your room when you heard someone frantically yelling your name.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!”

You turned around quickly, seeing none other than Poe Dameron sprinting towards you, his well-known orange BB unit following behind him.

You blinked twice in confusion, honestly thinking you were so tired you had begun to hallucinate. No, you concluded, watching as Poe came to a stop in front of you, hunched over slightly and panting to catch his breath; the man in front of you was very real, and seemed very concerned.

“Uh, yes?” you replied slowly, absolutely bewildered as to why a Resistance Commander would be looking for you at two in the morning.

“X-wing, needs repairs,” Poe managed breathlessly, still recovering from his intense running stint. The droid beside him beeped twice in agreement, wobbling quickly from side to side.

“Yea, I’m so sorry I didn’t get to fixing it today, but it’ll definitely be done some time tomorrow-” you started, but Poe quickly cut you off.

“Leia needs me to go on a mission in two hours,” he interrupted, “and with the upper left wing mostly detached, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it out of the hangar, let alone to Onderon.”

You felt your heart drop, realizing the gravity of the situation. His brows furrowed, seeming to sense your nervousness.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, concern laced in his voice. “You just got super pale.”

“Yea, yea I’m fine,” you reassured softly, though he did not seem convinced. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go and fix it up right now.”

You bit your lip as you turned to go, realizing it was going to be nearly impossible to fix his ship in two hours. The wing wasn’t the only thing that was damaged - Goss had said something about a problem with both the engine and the flight computer. While you were definitely capable of fixing them, you knew it was going to take a significant amount of time, and you were already so tired.

“Wait, (Y/n),” Poe said, grabbing your arm and gently turning you back to face him. You blushed, immediately moving out of his grip. If Poe noticed he didn’t say anything.

“BB-8 and I can help you if you want, I know I fucked up my ship pretty bad,” he chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled a little and nodded.

“Yea, you definitely did,” you joked softly. Poe smiled, and you blushed again, looking down at the floor. “Um, if you’d like to help I’d appreciate that very much.”

“Alright then, off to the hangar!” he exclaimed, jogging out of the hangar and taking off down the hall.

“Does he run everywhere?” you asked BB-8, who beeped a quick ‘yes’ before rushing out of the room to follow Poe.

~~~~~

An hour later, you’d managed to reattach the wing and had started to rewire the flight computer. It seemed like enemy fire had severed the connection between the computer and the rest of the ship, so you’d have to reconnect it before doing anything else.

Poe had been working on the damaged part of the left split-engine. The upper engine had been damaged along with the wing - nothing too serious, and Poe had assured you that he’d done similar repairs many times before.

“I think the engine is all set,” he called. You looked over your shoulder to where he was straddling the engine, mindlessly tossing a wrench he’d borrowed from you between his hands.

“Do you want me to check it?” you asked from where you were perched on the front part of the ship. He looked up at you and nodded, groaning as the wrench he’d been playing with dropped to the floor.

You laughed and jumped onto the ground, picking the metal tool up off the ground on your way over to him. You peered into the engine, carefully inspecting his work.

“Looks great!” you smiled as you looked up at him, setting the metal tool down next to him.

“Thank you very much, miss mechanic,” he replied with a grin. You rolled your eyes as he picked the wrench up and began to toss it again - Jess was right, Poe Dameron truly was a five year old trapped in a thirty-two year old’s body.

You stretched your arms over your head and sighed. You were still very tired, but Poe’s relentless chatter had woken you up somewhat.

“How’s the computer looking?” he asked.

“Alright,” you replied, climbing up the ladder you’d set against the ship earlier. “I’m almost done reconnecting the computer system to the ship, and then I have to turn it on and see if I need to reprogram anything.”

“Sounds very technical,” Poe said thoughtfully. You laughed and nodded, picking up a stray black wire and beginning to feed it into its designated port.

“This part is mostly just putting the right wires in the right spot, so not super complicated,” you said. “It’s basically a puzzle.”

“Well, it looks pretty complicated to me,” Poe said, hopping down from the top of the engine to put the wrench back in your toolbox. You grinned as you snapped the final wire into place.

“BB-8, can you turn the ship on?” you called to the small droid sitting in the astromech socket. BB-8 chirped happily, and after a few seconds you felt the X-wing rumble to life. From where you were sitting, you could see the panels in the cockpit begin to light up.

“The flight computer is officially reconnected,” you stated, getting up and doing a small happy dance as you walked over to the cockpit.

Poe laughed as you hopped in, squinting at the dashboard in front of you.

“Can you hand me the little red case in my toolbox?” you asked Poe.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, saluting you jokingly as he grabbed the toolbox and reached up into the cockpit to hand it to you.

You mumbled a thank you and grabbed the case, covering your mouth with your free hand as you stifled a yawn.

“You tired?” he asked, folding his arms across the edge of the cockpit and using his hand to prop his head up.

You nodded, opening the case and grabbing a thin metal rod. Some of the lights on the dash were flickering, and a few hadn’t turned on at all. You figured some of the integrated circuits inside the dashboard had come loose during the fighting.

“I’ve been up since five,” you said, pressing a button on the dashboard and removing the control panel.

“In the afternoon?” Poe said, grabbing hold of the control panel as you passed it to him.

“This morning,” you clarified, reaching into the now exposed circuit board of the ship. You grinned, your theory having been right, and used the metal rod to jostle some of the computer chips back into place.

“So you’ve been working all day then?” Poe asked. You nodded, looking back at him and frowning at the guilty look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking the dashboard back into your own hands.

“I’m so sorry for asking you to do this,” he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I should’ve asked Goss or someone else.”

“Poe, it’s fine,” you said reassuringly, sliding the panel back into place.

“No, it’s not,” he said bluntly. “I bet you were going back to your room when I found you, right?”

You bit your lip and nodded slowly, grimacing as Poe cursed and jumped back onto the ground.

“I’m such an asshole!” he groaned.

“Poe, look at me,” you called, waiting until he finally met your gaze to continue talking. “I agreed to do this, remember? This isn’t your fault at all.”

“I still feel bad,” he muttered.

“An all-nighter every once in a while doesn’t do any harm,” you said nonchalantly, sliding out of the cockpit. “And I wasn’t going to sleep much anyways.”

He looked at you softly as you set your tools back down on your work table and wiped your hands on your pants. You looked up at him and grinned, then gestured to his ship.

“She’s ready for flying, Dameron,” you beamed. He chuckled walking over to you and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, (Y/n),” he said, voice slightly muffled by your hair.

“You’re very welcome, Poe,” you replied, relishing in the feeling of his strong arms and chest under his flight suit. “You can ask me to fix your ship anytime.”

“I will definitely take advantage of that,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you. “It always flies better after you fix it.” You gasped, grinning in pleasant surprise.

“You notice when I fix your X-wing?” you asked. He nodded.

“Of course I do, half the time I make sure it goes directly to you after I get back from skirmishes and the like,” he added. You bit your lip and looked down at your feet.

“I didn’t know you knew who I was,” you admitted softly. He laughed, using his hand to tilt your head back up. You blushed, a little lost in his dark brown eyes.

“(Y/n), everyone knows who you are, you’re like the best mechanic in the Resistance,” he said genuinely. You smiled bashfully at his compliment.

“Thank you,” you said softly. He nodded and stepped back, grabbing his helmet from the table next to you.

“Well, duty calls,” he said, a grin on his face as he put his helmet on. You giggled.

“Be safe,” you said.

“Anything for my favorite mechanic,” he replied with a wink. You blushed again and looked down at your shoes.

“You ready, bud?” Poe called to BB-8, who beeped excitedly. He laughed and climbed into the cockpit, looking back at you before he shut it.

“Would you like to go out for dinner when I get back?” he asked, a smile on his face. You grinned, setting your hand on your hip.

“Are you asking me on a date, Dameron?” you asked. He bit his lip and nodded.

“I do believe I am.”

“Well,” you replied, “if you don’t unintentionally snap another wing off your X-wing, I’ll most definitely be available.” Poe laughed.

“See you tonight then!” he called as he closed the cockpit.

You backed up and waved as he made his way out of the hangar and onto the runway outside. You were still grinning as he took off, and you didn’t stop watching him until his ship was just a speck against the dark sky.

Two hours ago, you were sitting in the cafeteria with your cup of tea, and now you had been invited to dinner by the Poe Dameron, who apparently both knew who you were and admired your work. It was a lot to take in.

You grabbed your toolbox and headed over to the next ship awaiting repairs; you still had a lot of work to finish if you wanted to sneak in a nap before going on a date with the best pilot in the Resistance.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x original character #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe x oc #poe dameon fluff #poe dameron fic #star wars #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker

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jacksgreysays · 4 years

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DOS, Shikano Nara & Nara Twins, time travel

it could have gone like this:

Shikano comes home after a somehow simultaneously mind-numbing yet also frustrating day of making sure Hiruzen and Danzo don't drive Konoha into war, bankruptcy, or other disaster only to find that his oldest son has somehow multiplied.

He sighs. He looks to the heavens. He resists the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose, to drive away the stress headache that had already been building throughout the day.

He is, of course, proud that Shikaku is clever and innovative--such a thing will prove useful when he becomes clan head--but the boy is attracted to the most dangerous of ideas and more often than not Shikano has had to get Kasuga to fish him out of the black.

"... son, I know we're the clan of shadows, but I've already told you that the kage bunshin is beyond our purview." Shikano is Chief Tactician, Jounin Commander. He knows all the horror stories of shinobi trying jutsu beyond their means and burning from the inside out, guttering their Will of Fire far too soon.

It's not a perfect kage bunshin, missing an arm, but it looks alarming solid and alive.

One of them, the real one, turns to the other and smirks. The other, the clone, looks away and sighs.

"We don't look that similar," says the clone, bewilderingly enough.

Shikaku redirects his pleased smirk to Shikano. "This isn't a kage bunshin, Father," he says, even more bewilderingly.

A third teenager, thankfully not a clone of Shikano's oldest son, enters the room while consulting a sheaf of papers. She's not someone Shikano recognizes which is only alarming considering she's wearing the Nara clan mon and he should know every clan member on sight.

"I think I might have figured it out," the girl says, pulling a pencil out of thin air and making a mark on the papers in her hand, "But it'll probably require additional--oh, hello."

Shikano narrows his eyes at the stranger, before glancing over at his son and the non-clone by his side.

"Son, an explanation would be appreciated."

The three teenagers exchange silent looks. Unsubtle, silent looks.

"Uh, yeah," his son stammers, the other two raising matching eyebrows with skepticism. "Father this is Shikamaru and Shikako, uh, well, Nara."

Shikano gives in to the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

---

it should have gone like this:

Shikano comes home after being handed a headband and a report with so much blacked out that all that is visible is his youngest son's name. Redacted reports. For him? Konoha's Chief Tactician? The Jounin Commander?

He seethes. Who do Hiruzen and Danzo think he is? Some fragile civilian who doesn't know the weight of war grinding at his bones? A fool who doesn't know the scent of poor cover up of a truly heinous SNAFU?

Shikano as a father will mourn his son. Shikano as a clan head will mourn his heir. But the Shikano that has for decades served this village--this Hokage, whatever sick and twisted dynamic he has with his councilors--will never trust the administration that has betrayed him. He understands war. He understands loss. He understands, begrudgingly, acceptable losses. He will never understand the deliberate obfuscation of the truth, of intel that would prevent such a tragedy--such a waste--from ever happening again.

Shikano comes home, heart heavy, mind churning, dreading having to explain to his wife the loss of their second son, having to explain to his clan the loss of their heir.

Shikano comes home and before he can reach for the door to his own house, it opens. The girl who opens the door is pretty, but not beautiful. Unremarkable and almost unrecognizable, except for how she cost him one heir and to see her now, on this day, after he has lost another in a far more permanent way cannot be borne.

"What are you doing here?" Shikano snarls and the small smile that was on the girl's face drops immediately, exchanged for a confused, startled fear.

"I-I," the girl stutters while stepping back, away from him but further into the house.

"How dare you come here!"

Shikano, objectively, knows that he is not being fair. He is taking his anger and heartache out on this wide-eyed girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he is still a man, for all that he is known for his logic and unbiased reasoning, and he makes mistakes.

"I--"

"Leave her alone," a boy says, joining them in the entrance of the house, standing between them as if Shikano were the intruder here. For a moment, Shikano is swept away by deja vu. This is not Ikoma, no, but Shikaku--younger, impossibly so. It is a jarring thought, enough so to clear away the frenzied rage and realize that the girl also is far too young to be the one Shikaku left the clan for.

"Who are you?" Shikano asks, too late to be met with anything but distrust and apprehension from the teenagers in front of him. They exchange glances between each other and stonily stay silent.

"Father?" a familiar voice says and for a moment, Shikano wonders if perhaps this is a dream: imperfect reflections of his oldest son and the near civilian that stole him away, and now the voice of his fallen son.

But reality asserts himself. This is not a dream, miraculously enough. That is indeed Ikoma standing whole and mostly unharmed before him.

"My son," Shikano says, barely holding back his tears, swallowing down a relieved sob. He reaches out, clapping a hand on Ikoma's shoulder, feeling the warmth and the strength, alive.

Ikoma indulges him--perhaps he has an idea of what news he received, never mind how obviously incorrect it may be--before stepping away, back towards the dining room, where Shikano's wife already sits. The two silent teenagers edge around him, as if afraid to get too close, before taking seats in front of partially eaten snacks and half empty cups of tea.

Ikoma takes a seat of his own and gestures for Shikano to do the same. He does so, almost stupefied, gravity doing most of the work.

"Father, this is Kako and Kamaru," he says, gesturing to the teenagers. They do not give Shikano another glance. "They were the ones who extracted me from my mission and brought me here unnoticed. My teammates were the ones who--" Ikoma stops as if he cannot bear to continue.

"There is something wrong in Konoha," the girl, Kako, says in an almost hushed tone. As she should, such a statement could be considered treason.

The boy, Kamaru, grudgingly says, "We need your help to get rid of it."

If Shikano's hunch for what the something--or, rather, who the someone--is, then he will be more than glad to help.

---

but it actually went like this:

Shikano wakes up in a very comfortable T&I cell.

He knows it is a T&I cell despite the cozy and casual trappings because he helped Seki Hijiri design it just last month. They'd been discussing the validity of intelligence gathered by harsh interrogation--or, worse, torture--and how such unreliability would lead tactics astray.

They hadn't done anything with those designs--supposedly there wasn't enough in the budget to make such renovations--but Shikano knows Seki will hold on to those for when the opportunity arises.

Or, rather, she had held on to those and the opportunity already arose.

Shikano sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Watch my students, Hiruzen says. They won't be any trouble, Hiruzen says. They're just learning fuinjutsu, Hiruzen says. They're only genin, Hiruzen says, what's the worse they can get up to?"

Either Hiruzen is foolishly optimistic or he has no idea what his students are capable of. Probably both.

Shikano sighs again.

"Are you alright?" a young voice says.

"Just contemplating some treason," Shikano responds, before reconsidering his words. Obviously he was joking, but sarcasm isn't exactly--

"I know that feeling," the voice assures. When Shikano removes his hand from his face he sees that the speaker is as young as he had thought. She's only a little older than Hiruzen's students, though her presence in the T&I cell means he can't underestimate her.

"Is that why you're the one speaking to me? My treasonous thoughts?" Shikano asks her.

"Not really, although I don't think your thoughts currently count as treasonous." The girl shrugs. "I certainly wouldn't mind if you wanted to talk about how awful the Sandaime and Danzo were, but I'm primarily here for this," she says and her shadow approaches his before stopping short, a familiar greeting from a fellow Nara.

Ah, yes, that makes more sense.

He nods and completes the connection, his shadow overlapping with hers and, in the way known only to Nara, he understands the weight of her soul.

"What is your name?" she asks, even though her compatriots must have already spoken to Hiruzen's students and the fact that they brought a fellow Nara to him means they already know.

"Shikano Nara, fifteenth head of the Nara clan," he answers. Then, "And you?"

Her shadow deepens with something a little sly, a little amused. "Shikako Nara."

The lack of appellation intrigues him, for all that he doesn't show it on his face. She senses it anyway.

"My brother is heir, but since we're twins Dad decided to name us both Shika," she explains.

They sit in silence for a moment, shadows still connected.

Identity no doubt confirmed, Shikano asks, "What happens now?"

"We'll reunite you with your team and find temporary housing until we can figure out how to reverse the, I'll be honest, frankly bizarre seal that sent you here and then you'll go home," Shikako informs him simply.

"That's it?" Shikano asks, skeptically.

"Well, no, but you already knew that." And because their shadows are still connected, he knows how sorry she feels about what comes next. "In order to preserve the timeline, we'll have to erase your memory of anything pertinent you learn."

"I'm the Jounin Commander," he protests, "I can better protect Konoha with the things I learn here!"

Shikako shakes her head, disconnects their shadows, and stands up. She doesn't meet his eyes. "You can't change fate," she says, before leaving the cell.

That's the last thing he remembers.

Shikano wakes up, Hiruzen's students unconscious on the ground around him. They are in the same training ground that they were in before, safe in the heart of Konoha, and yet Shikano knows things have changed.

He stares at the clouds.

Then, after returning the three troublemakers to Hiruzen, Shikano goes home.

A/N: I'm gonna be honest, dona, I had no idea who Shikano was: I was split between him being Shikaku's dad or the head during the Warring Clans Era. And I'm not really aware what his widely accepted fanon personality is like. I mean, all I got is that he may be bigoted against non-clan shinobi--at least, enough to disown his heir when he decides to be with the woman he loves... I did consult with the discord and Voldecourt gave me a pretty decent starting block so fingers crossed I did it justice...

For the Could/Should/Actually Fic Ask Box Event!

#jacksgreyson #donapoetrypassion #prompt response #writing #fanfiction #dreaming of sunshine #naruto #shikano nara #shikaku nara #shikamaru nara #shikako nara #ikoma nara #could should actually fic

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surelynotshirley · 3 years

Text

Narancia + GiorBuccia???

Cleaning out my Notion a little and found this WIP that is titled Narancia + GiorBuccia except I have no idea where I was going with this but I wrote enough that it’s a waste to let rot in my Notion

Fugo is, unsurprisingly, the first to notice the shift in Narancia's attitude.

The group is seated at a small and unassuming ristorante away from the general hubbub of the city. Abbacchio and Bucciarati still seem on-edge, peering over their shoulders every few bites. Trish is safe inside of Mr. President but for the few seconds that Fugo saw her when he went inside to give her her meal, her face was pallid and drawn. It's hard to blame her, considering all the attempts to grab her have ended in bloodshed and death.

Narancia may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but the gravity of the situation is clear to him. He was the first person in the group to face down a member of the Hitman Team, after all, and Fugo still remembers how he felt when Narancia tottered back from his shopping trip, skin burnt and bleeding.

And yet, now, he seems completely unaware of his surroundings. His face is slack, mouth vaguely open, like how he looks every time Fugo is trying to explain to him basic math or science. Narancia looks miles away from the world, and Fugo resists the urge to stamp a foot down on Narancia's toes, just to wake him back up again.

It wouldn't do for them to cause a scene. They, unfortunately, stand out too much as it is.

"Narancia, is something the matter?" Fugo asks, watching as the tomato and mozzarella drops off of Narancia's fork and onto the plate for the nth time. "You've barely touched your lunch."

Narancia practically jumps out of his skin and he whirls onto Fugo as if he's only noticing Fugo for the first time. The overreaction makes heat rise up in Fugo's throat but he stamps it down.

"Wh-What?" Narancia yelps, his voice several octaves too high.

"Hey, shut up over there," Abbacchio says sharply, and even Bucciarati gives the two of them a disapproving look.

Fugo swallows down his immediate indignation at the unfair treatment. Narancia's the one making a fuss, not him. He may have taken on Narancia as a student, but he's not his mom or anything.

"I apologize," Fugo says at the same time Narancia mutters, "Sorry."

Mollified, Abbacchio sips from his wine and continues his conversation with Bucciarati, who merely nods every once in a while. He's clearly distracted, looking every few seconds at Giorno, and he's not the only one. Mista is also sneaking peeks at him and now that Fugo is paying attention, he can understand why.

"Oi, Giorno, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Mista asks, gesturing wildly with his fork. A bit of pasta sauce sprays in the air but lands on the floor rather than the tablecloth or anyone's clothing.

Giorno looks up, blinking confusedly. He does not stop dipping his bruschetta into the minestrone.

"I'm dipping my bruschetta into the minestrone," he explains patiently, as if he's trying to teach a child to say 'please' and 'thank you.'

Mista bristles at the patronizing tone.

"Yeah, I can see that!" he snaps. "I'm not asking you what you're doing. I'm asking you what you think you're doing. How can you ruin good bruschetta like that? You're making a goddamn mess. You call yourself an Italian? You're no better than an American."

He's loud, practically spitting out his words, and Giorno shrinks back slightly. Not out of fear or apprehension, it seems, but more so that Mista's saliva doesn't get all over his food.

"It's too hard," Giorno says. He doesn't stop letting the bruschetta soak up the soup and Fugo watches in vague despair as bits of tomato floats into the liquid. He knows that Giorno is young, and that Giorno didn't exactly have the best upbringing, but his lack of basic table manners is embarrassing. "I'll break my tooth off on this bruschetta."

"That's how bruschetta is supposed to be!" Mista exclaims passionately. He picks up his own antipasti — a garlic focaccia — and shoves it into his mouth. As if he's really trying to prove a point to Giorno about Giorno's bruschetta by inhaling focaccia.

"Can't you use your Stand to make a new tooth?" Fugo asks.

"I can," Giorno says.

Fugo waits patiently for a bit more but Giorno seems to think that Fugo was satisfied by his answer and continues his horrible desecration of good Italian food.

"I can't watch this anymore," Mista says. He reaches out and snatches the bruschetta out of Giorno's hand, sighing despairingly at the wet texture of the bread. "Here, you can have my focaccia."

He shoves his half-eaten antipasti onto Giorno's plate and Giorno frowns.

"You already bit into this," he complains.

"Yeah, so? I brushed my teeth this morning."

Giorno fastidiously tears away at the parts that Mista had taken bites out of and starts to work on it. Thankfully, he doesn't dip the focaccia into the minestrone or wine or anything crazy. Mista has no qualms about sharing germs and simply stuffs the bruschetta into his mouth, chewing loudly.

Narancia gasps and when Fugo glances at him, he's covering his mouth with one hand, staring wide-eyed at the oblivious Mista. Now that he thinks about it, he was about to ask Narancia a question.

"Are you alright, Narancia?" Fugo asks, leaning forward to whisper the question into Narancia's ear. "Shh," he reminds him when Narancia jerks away. "You don't want to get yelled at again, do you?"

Narancia shakes his head. Bucciarati and Abbacchio, thankfully, didn't notice anything amiss this time. It's a little annoying that they didn't say anything to Mista and Giorno even though Mista was definitely causing a scene with his little rant, but there's something about Narancia's higher-pitched voice that carries on the wind. Fugo has confidence that he would be able to hear Narancia's yelling miles away.

"I'm fine," Narancia says. "Er...actually, yeah. I'm fine."

He absolutely does not look fine and the doubt must show on Fugo's face because Narancia scrunches up his nose in what he must think is an earnest expression.

"I see," Fugo says, feigning disinterest. He goes back to his meal and watches from the corner of his eye as Narancia breathes an obvious sigh of relief.

It's not as if Fugo plans on ever betraying Narancia but his straightforward honesty is a little worrying. Especially since Mista has a rather bad habit of spouting lies without any sense of guilt.

He observes Narancia as Narancia continues his meal. He stabs into his caprese salad but he never actually brings his fork up to his mouth. It's hanging open again, and Fugo resists the urge to slam the palm of his hand into Narancia's chin if only to make him close his mouth. Narancia's eyes are glazed over in thought — Fugo can practically hear the grinding of Narancia rubbing his two brain cells together — and he follows his gaze to see just what has Narancia's attention.

Giorno and Mista, despite Mista's earlier rebuke, are chatting contentedly over their meals. Now that Giorno is no longer massacring good bread, it seems that Mista's gotten over his bad mood, and he's laughing at his own joke while Giorno gives him a patient smile. Fugo wasn't paying attention to just what Mista said, but with the way Mista is cupping his palms in front of his chest, he doubts that it was anything worth listening to.

"Is there something wrong with Giorno and Mista?" Fugo asks, and he pre-emptively reaches out to slam his hand against Narancia's mouth as Narancia starts to inhale.

"MMGH," Narancia says, and Fugo presses the palm of his hand against Narancia's face even harder.

It unfortunately is not enough to stifle him. Abbacchio sighs, loudly and obviously, and drains the wine in his glass. Bucciarati gives Fugo a look that he saw teachers direct to some of the dumber students at university. Giorno and Mista turn as one to stare at them. Mista's mouth is still twisted in a half-smile and there's no telling just what emotion Giorno is feeling. His calm expression is the same as it always is.

"Fugo, Narancia, the two of you have been acting quite strange ever since we arrived in Venezia," Bucciarati says. He sets his fork and knife down, and steeples his fingers, settling his chin on them. It's a clear invitation. "Is there something you would like to say?"

Fugo didn't want to make Narancia say anything until he could confirm for himself that what Narnacia wants to share is worth sharing, but it's too late now. He removes his hand from Narancia's face and slaps his back in a reassuring gesture. Narancia coughs, hacking into his salad, as he struggles to catch his breath.

"Narancia here's the one who's acting strange. He hasn't eaten a single bite of his salad and he's clearly not paying any attention to his surroundings."

"Oi, Narancia, we're not done the mission yet," Abbacchio says sharply, as if he wasn't one of the people who suggested taking a quick break before finishing their escort mission and eating at a ristorante. "You can stare at clouds or whatever you want after we deliver Trish to the Boss."

"I wasn't staring at the clouds!" Narancia yells. He stabs a tomato with his fork and shoves it into his mouth, throwing them all a thumbs-up. "I was —"

He cuts himself off to grab a piece of mozzarella with his bare hands and eats it, chewing rapidly as if he thinks that the group would let him off the hook if they think he has his mouth full.

As if Mista and Abbacchio are that kind.

"Hey, hey, Narancia, were you thinking about Trish?" Mista says, hooking an arm around Narancia's shoulders.

"Gweh!" Narancia chokes and he hurriedly swallows.

Fugo leans against the table, sighing. Somehow, even though Fugo definitely spends more time with Narancia, it's always Mista who gets to pry secrets out of him. For some reason, Fugo was the last one of the group to learn about Narancia's secret crush on the local florist and he only heard about it after Narancia confessed and got turned down. Mista was the one who Narancia went to for advice, and it was Mista who insisted that Narancia even go for it in the first place.

If Fugo was the one Narancia talked to, he would never have given Narancia such awful advice. Yet another reason why Fugo really doesn't want Mista and Narancia hanging out with each other as much as they do.

#my writing #jjba #giorbuccia #what is the english ship name #for some reason this feels really fugonara too #i remember that it was supposed to be like #narancia mistaking mista and giorno to be together but really giorno and bucciarati are #i think that was it #but i can't really remember anymore #timing wise i think this is supposed to be after white album

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bgn846 · 4 years

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One Giant Warp - FFXV Promtis

Summary:

Noct wants to show Prompto how he warps, how hard could it be? Very hard, like the wall he just threw himself into attempting to demonstrate. However, the one nice side effect of his miscalculation is Prompto fawning over him. Maybe he should throw himself into walls more often. a.k.a. Noct likes Prompto and doesn't know how to tell him.

It turns out the old adage of keeping your eye on the ball wasn’t just meant for sports. The same reasoning applied to warping. This fact made itself known when Noct decided to risk a quick glance over at Prompto. The prince had wanted to ensure his friend could see the feat he was about to perform. Sure, his best friend was paying attention, and subsequently got to watch as Noct slammed himself into the wall of the training room. One small note of comfort being, no one else had been there.

The feeling of pain was first and foremost in his brain as he writhed on the floor. Thank the six, the walls were covered in mats. Though he was pretty sure they weren’t meant for warping into. Noct was dimly aware of the floor vibrating as Prompto ran over. His frantic shouts also helped clue Noct into his approach.

“Noct! Buddy! Oh em gee please tell me you’re alright?!” Prompto yelped in a panic.

Only able to manage some sort of guttural sound in acknowledgment, Noct reached out his hand to grab Prompto’s arm. Squeezing firmly he held on in hopes the gesture would calm his friend. Typical to Prompto, it didn’t work.

“Dude, shit, are you dying or something? Why are you holding me like that? Say something I don’t know what t--.”

“M’fine!” Noct blurted. “Hurts, give me a minute.”

“Did you break anything? If you did then you shouldn’t move. How’s your neck feel? What about your back?” Prompto rapidly fired as his blue eyes darted to and fro. “When you said you wanted to show me how you warped, I didn’t think you’d do it so forcefully!” he finished with a wince.

The shock of literally throwing his body at an immovable object was wearing off, and Noct attempted to roll on his side, albeit slowly. Thankfully, nothing twinged and the only part of his body that was starting to throb was his head. A headache he could handle. Having to explain why a potion was missing later due to a broken bone wasn’t something he’d been looking forward to.

He knew he’d never be able to say the real reason why due to certain people like Ignis being able to see through him in a heartbeat. That was the only issue with practically growing up with someone, they knew all your tells. Fibbing to Prompto, on the other hand, was easy. Not that admitting he’d merely been trying to show off for his secret crush would work well either.

Noct simply had to survive this moment and move on, or rather move up. The floor was very comfortable right now, and the idea of even attempting to walk wasn’t sounding promising. Fighting gravity combined with relearning how to balance was the least of his worries. He already knew he’d need Prompto’s help getting back home. The prospect of having to hang onto the blond was proving to be a worrying thought.

He didn’t mind being close to Prompto, quite the opposite, he wanted nothing more than to stay close. Having a crush on your best friend was fun and torturous all at the same time. Resigned to keeping his fantasies in dreamland Noct focused on trying to sit up. No need in delaying this process any longer. He needed to rest and forget this ever happened. However, when Noct did sit up the room spun. Guess he’d hit his head harder than he thought. Muttering a curse under his breath Noct clamped his eyes shut and reached out for the nearest thing to steady his movements. Prompto’s warm and slightly clammy hand enveloped his a second later. Right, he forgot, Prompto was the nearest thing.

Laughing nervously to detract from his now equally sweaty hands, Noct began rambling. “I’m fine, really, it’s all good,” he lied opening his eyes once more. Big mistake. Prompto’s blue eyes were right there, brilliant and bright, staring straight at him.

“You don’t look so fine, buddy. You sorta look ill.”

“You try throwing yourself at a wall and see how you fair.”

“Not funny, you didn’t see it from my perspective, or hear the noise either.”

“What noise?” Noct asked bewildered. “Did I yell?”

Prompto huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. “No, dude, the noise I’m talking about is when your body hit the wall. It sounded like a sack of potatoes dropping.”

“Oh, yeah it wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

“We should get you to the clinic or something, just in case.”

“Huh? Clinic? Six, no, I’m not going to the doctor. I’m fine,” Noct defended while attempting to stand and promptly grabbing his friend for support. Stupid head, spinning around and making the simple act of standing an issue.

“Whoa, I gotcha,” Prompto supplied as he slung Noct’s arm over his shoulder. “I know I just started crownsguard training but I’ve already learned about first aid,” he beamed proudly. “Which means we need to go to the clinic.”

“Seriously Prompto, I’m good, I’m not gonna go,” Noct tried again as they hobbled along to the door.

“I’m not going to be responsible for killing the crown prince of Lucis because I let him bully me.”

Noct scoffed, “I’m not dying, my head hurts I need to sleep it off.” This statement got Prompto even more animated.

“Your head hurts? Shit, dude, that’s worse. You shouldn’t go to sleep.”

Noct was about to tell Prompto that he was perfectly capable of reading his own injuries when an idea struck. If he needed to stay awake then this was a perfect excuse for them to spend the rest of the afternoon and night together. Prompto slept over all the time but always used the guest room if he hadn’t already fallen asleep on the couch. This time Noct had a valid reason for him to share his bed.

Impressed by his own cleverness Noct voiced his brilliant idea without pause. “Why don’t you keep an eye on me then, make sure I don’t pass out or something worse.”

“I’m already doing that dummy, and I’m going the extra mile by taking you to the doctor.”

Thinking fast Noct remembered that Cor might still be around. “What if Cor clears me? Would you accept that instead of the doctor? He’s got a medic certification too, remember?”

Prompto pouted but eventually nodded. “I trust his judgment, but I still think you’re being a baby.”

Noct waved Prompto off with his free hand motioned for them to go in the direction of Cor’s office. Needless to say, Cor was not amused by his appearance five minutes later. The man took one look at the pair of them and scowled. “Noctis, why do you have a rather painful looking bump developing on your forehead?”

“I hit the wall with my head, but that’s not what’s important right now. Can you make sure I’m not going to die so Prompto won’t make me go to the clinic?”

Taking a deep breath Cor stood from his desk and sauntered over. “I warned you not to take your eye off the ball.”

This time Noct scowled and gave Cor a look that he hoped would stop the older man from pressing further. “You can’t even warp,” he grumbled.

Cor hummed in agreement, “I still saw your father do plenty of stupid shit, so I know the principle behind the magic.”

“Yeah, yeah, am I okay? You’ve seen real dead people before so you’ll know what to look for.”

“Noct, shut up,” Prompto whispered. “He’s the immortal for six sake.”

“Yes, I know,” Noct hissed. “That’s why we are here.”

Cor took all their comments in stride and if Noct was being honest he would swear Cor had a slight smile on his face. After some cursory questions about how he was feeling and Cor examining his head, he was given the clear to go home. A stern warning to call if anything changed was given out as Prompto steered them out of office once more.

The next challenge on the long, terrible journey home was transportation. Noct knew he shouldn’t drive, and he was not going to call Ignis for a lift. If he could keep this little accident a secret it’d be even better. Ignis wasn’t even scheduled to visit later. If Noct played his cards right he’d have Prompto all to himself for the whole night.

Convincing Prompto to drive the car back to his condo was tricky. Noct laid out how terrible it would be if Ignis showed up, and how degrading it would be if Gladio found out. They were best friends this was a moment between them, and them alone. Noct was babbling and he knew it, but it worked. Prompto finally took the driver’s seat and slowly navigated them to his place. Noting to never ask Prompto to drive again Noct focused on staying upright on the walk to the elevator. Having someone to lean on was immensely helpful; otherwise, he was sure he’d have fallen over in the parking garage.

Curse living on the ninth floor, the elevator made his head throb painfully and he wasn’t about to take the stairs. Prompto noticed immediately when he sucked in a labored breath once the elevator began moving.

“You’re still feeling awful aren’t you?”

“I’m not in pain if that makes you feel better. My head still hurts, but not anything unbearable,” he added quickly. Prompto might take this admission as a sign of weakness and decide to call Ignis or something worse.

“Cor said to make sure you ate and to take it easy, let’s focus on that for now.”

“We can order pizza!” Noct exclaimed making them list sideways. This using his crush as a crutch was great. Maybe he would stay ‘dizzy’ for a little longer. He was starting to enjoy this moment for all the wrong reasons. Noct wasn’t even sure if Prompto liked him back that way. Asking that question of his friend though was another matter entirely. Noct didn’t want to risk losing one of the best things that had happened to him. Prompto’s friendship had been a relief from the mounting daily pressures he faced.

Ignis and Gladio always had his back but this was different, Prompto didn’t come from their world. He wasn’t familiar with all the pomp and circumstance of being a royal. They were friends because they got along and had fun together, nothing more and nothing less. Noct was loath to ruin such a great thing by offering up his true feelings. Something about ‘hey I like, like you’ felt like a good way to seriously rock the boat. Things were smoothly humming along; there was no need to destroy a perfectly good friendship.

Lost in his own thoughts about how nice Prompto’s body felt Noct didn’t notice they’d reached his front door. It wasn’t until a hand began patting his pockets did he realize the issue. Prompto wanted his keys to get in. “Huh, sorry, they are in my other pocket,” he offered sheepishly.

“Well then, we gotta switch sides for me to reach them,” Prompto announced right before ducking out from under his arm and moving. The sound of jingling keys erupted soon after.

Noct was about to whine at being jostled until Prompto’s body pressed up against him once more. Smiling like an idiot he leaned further into his friend. Unfortunately, his timing was terrible, and Noct merely made them both fall forward. The newly unlocked door swung open forcefully, and Prompto barely had the strength to keep them both upright.

“Dude, warn me when you’re gonna do that!”

“Sorry, you feel really good,” Noct murmured sleepily. It wasn’t until a healthy blush developed on Prompto’s cheeks did Noct pick up on what he’d said. Shit. This was bad. “Ya know like ah, um--,” he trailed off completely at a loss for words. There wasn’t really a good way to explain away what he’d just said.

“You should sit down, I’ll order food,” Prompto quickly cut in as he looked everywhere but Noct’s face.

The walk to the sofa was deathly quiet as Noct desperately tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to mind. Prompto eased him down gently a minute later and then disappeared like his butt was on fire. Groaning at his own inability to function like a normal human Noct leaned back and stared at the ceiling, resigned to drown in his own insecurities.

Prompto’s hands were shaking by the time he made it into the bathroom. Noct’s apartment was open in the main living area so he couldn’t seek refuge in the kitchen. He also knew he couldn’t stay in here forever. He needed to keep an eye on Noct and hiding in here wasn’t the way to do it. His mind was still reeling from the simple comment his friend had made.

‘You feel really good’ was a benign statement in of itself, but combined with all the soft smiles and other things Prompto had noticed recently, it took on a whole new life. Maybe he hadn’t been imagining all of it before. Maybe Noct liked him as more than a friend.

Pulling his phone out he called the one person who might be able to give him some advice. Prompto had wanted to let someone else know what had happened, just in case they needed help later, despite Noct’s protests. He wasn’t about to put his friend in harm’s way. Suddenly worried he opened the bathroom door and looked down the hallway. Noct’s fluffy head of hair was still visible over the couch.

He was about to wander closer to really check when Noct’s hand came up and touched his fresh bruise. Thank the six, he was still okay. Going back to his little haven, Prompto hit the call button and waited.

Gladio picked up on the third ring. “Hey Prompto, what’s up?” he asked jovially. “We didn’t have a training session today, did we? I thought it was on Monday.”

“No, no, you’re good I uh just need to tell you something real quick.”

The shield must have picked up on the stress in his voice due to his next reaction. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Where’s Noct? Is he hurt? Are you hurt?”

“Whoa big guy, calm down, I’m fine. Noct’s mostly fine. Cor checked him out if it makes you feel better.”

“What do you mean Cor checked him out?”

Prompto had to cover the speaker on his phone for fear Noct might heard Gladio hysterically laughing. The tale of Noct’s great warp strike to the training room wall was very funny to him. After Gladio had quieted down again he continued. “So yeah, I wanted you and Ignis to know, so you could like be prepared if something else happens. I felt like it was the wise thing to do considering the circumstances, and the fact that he refuses to go to the doctor.”

“Okay blondie, I’ll alert Ignis and make sure he promises to keep his mouth shut. I appreciate you callin’ You’re a good friend to Noct, he needs more people like you in his life.”

Gladio’s comment made Prompto remember the other reason he’d called. “Uh, so you were also right about the other thing.”

“Huh, what other thing?”

“The thing you relentlessly tease me about when I miss a move in training. The thing about Noct like, liking me and being to chocobo to admit it.”

“Seriously?! What’d he say?”

“Nothing much but I think hitting his head has made him a little loopy. He’s super relaxed and saying things and hanging on me.”

“You gonna tell you like him back?” Gladio asked.

“Should I? I don’t want to ruin things.”

“You’re not gonna ruin anything. Noct likes you, just tell him and see how it goes. I’d suggest you not try to ya know do anything tonight, he’s injured after all but talking about stuff is fine.”

“Oh em gee too much info Gladio, I’m not gonna jump him tonight, he needs to rest.”

Gladio laughed again but there was no malice behind it. “Go back and sit with him. You’re hiding in the bathroom, aren’t you? I can tell by the echo.”

“Yes!” Prompto hissed. “I got nervous, shit, I still need to order pizza.”

“Hey, calm down. Go sit with him and I’ll order for you. I can use his account to pay and then you can focus on making sure he’s alright.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Sure kiddo, you’re my friend too. Besides, I know what you two like to eat. Go check on him; make sure he’s not passed out or somethin’.”

“Okay thanks, Gladio.”

“No problem, call me straight away if anything changes. It sounds like he needs to rest and take it easy for the weekend. I’ll let Ignis know so don’t worry about that either.”

“Alright, I’ll keep you posted. Thanks big guy.”

Pocketing his phone once more Prompto opened the door to check on Noct. His friend was still in the same spot and moving his arms around like he was having a conversation. Expect no one was there. Wondering if he’d gone temporarily insane Prompto slipped out into the hallway and listened. Sure enough, Noct was talking, but after a second Prompto figured out he was simply talking to himself.

The dialog was all over the place. Noct was berating himself for being stupid and messing everything up. What in the hell was his friend going on about? Not wanting to see Noct act so self-deprecating Prompto ran back into the room. “Hey you didn’t mess anything up,” he chided while coming to a stop next to the sofa.

“You’re still here?” Noct exclaimed with a pained look. “I thought maybe I’d messed up so bad you’d snuck out.”

“You’re such a dork, I’m not gonna leave. I told you I’d take care of you and I meant it.”

“Oh, you’re not mad at me?”

“Dude, how hard did you hit your head? No, I’m not mad at you.”

‘Sorry,” Noct mumbled as he looked away and stared at the floor.

“Sorry for what? Pizza is on its way and we get to hang out for the rest of the night and watch movies and like uh, you know be idiots together.” Prompto offered with a smile.

“What kind of pizza did you get?” Noct asked with a pout. “I’m hungry.”

Unable to stop the burst of nervous laughter from escaping his mouth, Prompto blurted the first thing that came to mind, “It’s a surprise buddy. You’ll love it don’t worry.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

“So ah, how’s your head feel now? Is it still pounding?”

“It’s getting better, but I think I’ll be glued to the sofa for the rest of the night.”

Sitting down next to Noct, Prompto gathered his thoughts. He wanted to talk to Noct about how he felt, but he wasn’t sure right now was the best time. Gladio’s words flashed through his mind at that moment. Prompto should try and talk about stuff. He didn’t think he was reading the signs wrong, Noct sure seemed like he was interested in him.

“Um, what did you think you’d messed up?” he asked finally.

“Huh?” Noct whispered as he settled down into the cushions further.

“You were saying something earlier about messing up, what did you mean?” Prompto was sure Noct’s face was turning pink. That had to be a good sign. No one would blush if they didn’t have feelings to admit. Noct looked stricken; he clearly wanted to speak but couldn’t seem to find the energy. Time dragged on as Noct stalled. Gladio has been right, Noct was never going to say anything first. Prompto couldn’t believe he was about to do this but his friend needed him, now more than ever. Taking a deep breath he voiced his own feelings in hopes it would prompt Noct into revealing his own.

“You--you felt good too,” he managed through the lump in his throat. Noct didn’t immediately react. Prompto watched as various emotions played across his friend's face. Noct was confused at first; it was an odd statement to make when they weren’t actually touching. It was understandable that he’d be wondering about the context. Then, in a flash Noct turned his head and looked at him with wide eyes. He’d figured it out, hopefully.

“Say it again,” he demanded, but not in a condescending way.

Licking his lips Prompto gathered what little bravery he had left and repeated his comment, “you felt good too.”

“You mean it?” Noct checked as he leaned forward and gripped Prompto’s arm. “I didn’t destroy our friendship?”

“Is that what you thought would happen?” Prompto exclaimed. “I’m always gonna be your friend. I don’t know what life would be like without you buddy.”

Noct instantly relaxed and flopped back into the sofa, “I was so worried I messed everything up.”

“What? By telling me how you really feel about me?” Prompto asking hoping this might bait Noct into saying more.

“I’ve had a crush on you for soooo long, I just didn’t know how to tell you,” Noct admitted with a relieved look.

“Were you trying to impress me with your warping abilities?” Prompto queried with a smirk.

“Maybe, but don’t tell anyone else that! I don’t wanna get yelled at for abusing my magic just to impress someone I like.”

“You’d already won me over the moment we met.” Smiling at how that made Noct blush even harder Prompto continued on. “I’m flattered that you were willing to risk life and limb to impress me, but next time, tell me how you feel.”

Noct laughed and winced immediately afterward, “Shit, oh man I gotta take it easy tonight. That sucks.”

“Sounds kinda nice actually.”

“We could be trying out so many different things tonight, but I can’t even stand up without the room spinning.”

The true meaning behind what Noct had said, sunk in a second later. Oh, damn he was referring to those kinds of other things. One idea did come to mind that they could do. “So, we can always cuddle until you feel better,” Prompto suggested slyly. “Ya know, and then later we can do some other uh, stuff.”

Prompto didn’t have much warning before Noct slumped to the side and tackled him in a hug. “Thanks, buddy, falling asleep against you sounds really good.”

“Hey, no sleeping yet, you need to eat.” The sound that came as a response didn’t sound like the English language. Had Noct already zonked out? “Dude, no come on wake up!”

“Sleeeeep nowwwwww, pizza laterrrr.” Noct mumbled as he began to rearrange them on the sofa.

Prompto patiently waited until Noct was fully sprawled across his chest before he pulled out his phone again. He needed to send a text to Gladio but he was waiting for the inevitable. Noct falling asleep.

However, once Noct had stilled he took a breath to speak. “Why is your heart racing?”

That was an easy one to answer. “We just confessed that we like each other more than friends and now you’re lying on top of me. Why do you think my heart is racing?” He questioned jokingly. “I’m excited and nervous, and happy all at the same time.”

“Sorry, my macho display delayed our fun.”

“Honestly, I’m okay taking things a little slow. I like what we are doing right now and maybe later after dinner, we can uh, you know, try kissing?”

Noct giggled like a freaking two-year-old once he’d finished talking. “We can kiss now if you want.”

“Nope, gonna make you wait since you laughed at me.”

“Hey, I can’t help it, you sounded really cute.”

“I’m not cute bro, I’m manly just like you.”

Noct laughed again even moved his arm to hit him in the shoulder. “Fine, you sounded really handsome and strong. How chivalrous of you to wait on my account, so as not to spoil my virgin body.”

“If you weren’t injured right now I’d have shoved you off on the floor already. You should thank me for being so nice to you.”

Snorting and groaning in pain Noct stilled again. “Stop making me laugh. I gotta take it easy remember?”

“Sure, buddy,” Prompto drawled out. “You’re taking it easy, and picking on me at the same time. I don’t think that should be allowed.”

“Okay, truce, I’ll stop until I feel better.”

“Deal, but I’m gonna fight back once you get better too, don’t forget.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Noct asked indignantly.

“If you pick on me I’ll retaliate.”

“How? You can’t hurt me I’m the crown prince.” He offered haughtily but Prompto could tell Noct was teasing.

“I have my ways. I know someone who’d be more than willing to tell me where you’re ticklish.”

“Iggy wouldn’t betray me like that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Shhh, enough talk about that, lets enjoy this moment before the food gets here.” Noct went so far as to cover Prompto’s mouth with his hand to silence him. One well-placed lick of his tongue had Noct crying out in disgust. “Not fair, no licking.”

“Ever?” Prompto asked coolly.

“Never!” Noct replied but he seemed to realize what that might imply and quickly changed his tune. “Licking s’okay,” he nearly whispered a second later.

“I thought so, but that’s for later remember.”

“M’sleep nowww.” Noct hummed.

Prompto let Noct rest this time. Once his friend's breath had evened out, he texted Gladio to get an ETA on the food. For once the Friday night rush meant the hour-long time was actually welcomed, considering his current situation. Gladio had of course asked how it went and Prompto was happy to reply that they’d confessed their feeling to each other. He was graced with a thumbs-up emoticon and a smiley face.

Putting his phone down Prompto hugged Noct closer and rubbed his back. He was going to make sure they had the best weekend ever! Happy to simply be with Noct and hold him Prompto drifted off until the door buzzed. The night was just beginning as was their new relationship. Prompto couldn’t wait to have more adventures with Noct. So long as he didn’t throw himself into a wall again!

AO3 Link

#ffxv #fanfic #promtis #prompto #noctis

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