#every time I pop out of my storm shelter I thank god he’s let me live and I promise to make it someone else’s problem

[yorshie]

Me every time I make it through a storm in Tornado Alley

#stormchasers #storm chasers #tornado #humor #tornado alley #it’s spring in the Midwest again #shitpost #every time I pop out of my storm shelter I thank god he’s let me live and I promise to make it someone else’s problem #my shitposts

[cuttoothed]

A little fic for @jonsimsandcats and also inspired by some adorable art on discord! Featuring notes on kitten rearing, and of course some Jmart because it’s me.

Jon works at the Institute here, but a non-spooky version of it!

*

Martin is doing a final check on the fish tanks when he hears the bell above the front door jingle. He sighs; he knew he should have locked up first. Just his luck.

“This is your fault,” he tells the angelfish balefully. They don’t seem contrite, too busy nosing in the fine gravel for any food they’ve missed. Martin walks out to the front of the shop, preparing his best customer service smile to tell whoever’s come in at—he glances at his watch—three minutes past eight that they’re closed, and no, they can’t just wander around for a few minutes to look at the animals. Honestly, some people seem to think there’s no difference between a pet shop and an art gallery.

There’s a man standing at the front counter, looking around anxiously, a bundled up jumper clutched against his chest.

“Sorry, we’re—” Martin begins, and that’s as far as he gets before the man unleashes a frantic tirade.

“Please!” the man says, “I need your help, I-I’m not sure they’re breathing and they were out there for hours on their own, I know you’re not supposed to move them in case their mother comes back but I couldn’t just—just leave knowing they were still there, and all the vet offices nearby are closed, this was the only place I could think of!”

The man is wild eyed, almost panicked, and Martin lifts both hands in an appeasing gesture.

“Woah,” he says, “Uh, maybe start from the beginning again? Slowly?”

“Right, ah, sorry. Sorry. I spotted them this morning, under a bush just outside my work.” The man sets the bundle of jumper down on the counter, and unfolds it to reveal two tiny scraps of fur: one gray, one black. Kittens, Martin realizes, so small they can only be a week or so old; certainly not old enough to be without their mother.

“I left them alone, because I’ve heard that the mother usually comes back after a little while. A-and I meant to go and check on them again during the day, make sure.” The man sounds anguished now, his face miserable. “But I—I got caught up in work, forgot about it. It was only when I was leaving that I remembered. And they were still there, on their own. Barely moving. Please—is there anything we can do?”

Martin looks down at the tiny creatures in their nest of wool; he can just about see the shallow in-out of their breathing. All day outside alone, at their age, the odds aren’t great. But he’s met enough kittens to know that they’re shockingly resilient little sods, and he’s never given up on a so-called hopeless case before. He’s not about to start now.

“You did the right thing moving them,” he assures the man, moving to flip the sign on the door to CLOSED. “We need to get them warmed up and get some food into them. Body heat is the best thing for them right now—can you start warming them with your hands?”

“Oh—ah, yes,” says the man, turning to his bundle of jumper with a worried frown. Martin leaves him there while he rushes around the shop, grabbing kitten milk replacer and nursing bottles, and then into the back to heat two mugs of water in the microwave while he makes up the bottles. He pops them into the mugs to warm, and brings the whole lot out to the front. The man now has a kitten in each hand, and is holding them pressed carefully to his chest for additional warmth; his expression is still worried, but also desperately tender, and Martin feels a pang of something behind his ribs at the sight.

“One of them is moving,” the man says eagerly as Martin sets the bottles down. Martin can see the gray kitten wriggling weakly in the man’s grip, responding to the heat. Its sibling is still motionless, and Martin’s heart sinks a little.

“That’s great,” he says. “Hold onto her for another minute, and let me see if I can get her sister moving too.”

He holds out a hand, and the man almost reluctantly passes him the black kitten. Martin doesn’t try to notice that the man has lovely hands, with long, slim fingers, narrow wrist jutting out of his shirt sleeve, but, well, he notices a bit. He turns his attention to the kitten; he can’t make out the motion of its breathing anymore. He takes it in both hands and starts to massage it gently. It lies limp in his palms, head lolling, and Martin starts to feel despair crawling cold up his spine.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “You can do it.” The man is watching him anxiously, the gray kitten cradled against his chest, and Martin knows he can’t give up. He keeps rubbing the kitten’s small body, trying to will warmth and life back into the tiny, fragile form. At last, after what seems like an eternity, the kitten squirms in his hands and a faint, plaintive mew escapes it. An answering mew comes from the gray kitten, and Martin laughs, relief washing over him.

“Right, let’s see if we can get them to eat.”

After checking that they’re not too chilled to feed, Martin tests each of the kittens with a drop of formula on their tongue; thankfully they both seem able to swallow without difficulty. He shows the man how to feed the gray kitten, holding its body in a neutral position with the bottle tilted for a gentle flow. It doesn’t take long for the kittens to figure out the process, and Martin can feel the tug on the bottle as his kitten begins to suckle.

“Oh,” he hears softly from beside him, and turns to see the man gazing in delight at the gray kitten, whose tiny, unfurled ears are twitching as it sucks.

“She’s doing great,” Martin comments. “Good job.” The man gives him a tentative, pleased smile, and Martin still isn’t trying to notice but it’s a very nice smile. “I’m Martin, by the way.”

“Jonathan Sims—Jon,” says the man, and then gives a small, tense laugh. “God, I haven’t even apologized for storming in here while you were clearly trying to close up for the night.”

“That’s all right, I didn’t have any exciting plans tonight anyway. I’d much rather be spending time with these little beauties.”

Jon smiles again, more sure this time, and all right, maybe Martin deliberately notices the dimple in his right cheek. Just a bit.

Once the kittens are fed, Martin shows Jon how to stimulate them; both of them only pee a little—poor things are dehydrated—but it’s a good sign. They clean them up and tuck them back into the nest of Jon’s jumper, where they curl up into a small puddle of black and gray. Jon gives a sigh that’s somewhere between relieved and exhausted.

“Thank you,” he says. “I, ah, I think I forgot to say that as well. You know a lot about this.”

“I volunteer at a shelter, there are a lot of kittens. If you like, I can take them for tonight and bring them in tomorrow?”

“Ah,” says Jon. “Do you think that’s—I mean...I-I’m not sure I’d feel right, handing them off to someone else. Not that I think you’re not capable!” he rushes to add, and Martin finds himself smiling.

“No, I get it. You found them, you want to take care of them. I’ll warn you, though, it’s a big commitment. For the first couple of weeks you have to feed them every two hours, even during the night, and then it’s every three or four hours until they start weaning. It’s like having a newborn baby.”

“I don’t get much sleep generally,” says Jon. “At least this way I’ll have something to do while I’m up all night. And my work is—well, I’ll explain the situation.”

He looks set on it, brow furrowed with determination. Martin considers arguing more: that a shelter will be better equipped to care for the kittens, that there’s no guarantee they’ll survive in any case, that Jon doesn’t know what he’s signing up for. But the shelters are always crowded, and kittens this young have simple needs, and really, a dedicated foster parent—armed with the right knowledge—is probably the best thing for them.

“Right,” he says, “Let’s make sure these two are well wrapped up before you take them home.”

He scrounges a cardboard box from the back and they settle the kittens into it, still wrapped in Jon’s jumper along with a soft fleece blanket printed with cartoon fish. Martin gathers a couple of cartons of liquid formula and extra bottles to get them started, and shows Jon how to pierce the nipple so the flow isn’t too strong.

“It should be warmed to body temperature,” he explains, “But not directly in the microwave—put the bottles in heated water, like I did earlier. Do you have a hot water bottle?”

“Yes, I do,” says Jon, frowning intently as he listens. Martin nods.

“It’s better than a heating pad at this age, they’re less likely to get overheated. Don’t make it too hot—body temperature, again—and wrap it in a blanket so they’re not touching it directly.”

“Got it,” says Jon firmly, and Martin believes him. He bags up the formula and bottles and an extra pet blanket, and presses them into the hands of a startled Jon; the till is shut off for the night, but Martin can explain and pay for the items tomorrow.

“What’s your phone number?” he asks, and Jon looks even more startled.

“S-sorry?”

“Or your email. I’m going to send you some links—videos, a couple of good blogs that should be helpful.”

“Oh, ah, right. Of course.” Jon recites his number and Martin saves it under “Jon (Kittens).” He peeks into the box one last time before Jon scoops it up, and sees the kittens snuggled in the folds of the jumper, paws waving in little kitten dreams.

“Thank you again, Martin,” says Jon. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.” His tone is shy but genuine, and it sends warmth through Martin’s chest and up into his cheeks.

“Any time,” Martin says. “And feel free to text me if you need anything—if you have a question or...anything. Or call me if you like.” He’s aware he’s rambling a bit, but it’s not every day an attractive man says that he doesn’t know what he would have done without you, so he can hardly be blamed.

“I will,” says Jon solemnly.

*

He doesn’t text Martin any questions that night, but when Martin sends him the links to a youtube channel and three blog posts on kitten care, he replies:

Thank you :)

Martin spends most of the rest of the night wondering what that smiley face means.

*

He doesn’t necessarily expect to see Jon again, and certainly doesn’t expect to see him the very next day. But just before one o’clock in the afternoon the bell above the door jingles and there’s Jon, looking tired and more than a bit sheepish.

“I got all the way into work this morning before I realized I’d never paid for any of the things you gave me,” he says, reaching for his wallet.

“Those were gifts,” Martin tells him firmly. “Sort of a “welcome to foster parenthood” care basket?”

“No, I couldn’t let you—” Jon starts to protest, but Martin shakes his head emphatically.

“It’s no big deal, honestly. I get an employee discount anyway.”

“I...well, then I suppose I need to thank you yet again,” says Jon.

“It’s becoming a bit of a habit,” Martin jokes, grinning, and Jon smiles in return. He hesitates a moment before continuing:

“Maybe I could buy you lunch instead, then? To pay you back.”

“There’s no need, honestly,” says Martin, even as his brain berates him: What are you doing, idiot, he’s asking you to have lunch with him? Say yes!

“Please, I’d like to,” Jon says, and then gives a thoughtful frown. “Only if you want to, of course, don’t feel obligated—”

“I’m on lunch in five minutes,” Martin blurts out before he can overthink it.

“Great!” says Jon, sounding pleased. “If you have time, we could go by my office as well and visit the kittens. I just fed them before I came to see you.”

Before I came to see you, not before I came to pay you back, and Martin feels that warmth crawling up towards his cheeks again. Even if Jon’s intentions are purely friendly rather than...anything else, well, Martin could always use more friends.

“How were they last night?” he asks, and the smile that spreads across Jon’s face this time is pure delight.

“Oh I barely got an hour’s sleep,” he says, waving a hand. “And today they’re sitting under my desk reminding me every couple of hours that they need attention and that they are far more important than whatever I’m working on. They’re perfect.”

“Sounds like cat parenthood suits you,” Martin teases gently, and Jon laughs.

“I think it rather does.”

*

Lunch is...nice, and only slightly awkward in the “getting to know a new person” sort of way. Jon is serious, but also funny in an understated, acerbic way, and there’s a gentleness to him that wouldn’t be immediately apparent, if Martin hadn’t seen him cradling two tiny, fragile lives to his chest last night. He’s the kind of person Martin would like to know better, he thinks.

Afterwards they go to Jon’s workplace, which is extremely academic with a brass nameplate by the door and everything, and down to the basement office where Jon works; Martin doesn’t really know what archiving entails, but it looks like mostly a bloody great pile of paperwork. Jon’s two colleagues give Martin friendly and extremely curious glances as they pass; Jon pointedly ignores them in favor of directing Martin to his desk and the cardboard box sitting beneath it.

When Martin glances inside, the two kittens are curled up in the folds of the fish-print blanket, lying against the shape of what he assumes is the hot water bottle. Their bellies already look rounder than they were last night, thanks to regular feeding, and their limbs twitch as they sleep.

“I’ll take them to the vet for a check up after work,” Jon murmurs quietly, gazing down at them with a soft expression. Martin recognizes that look of adoration, and he knows this pair won’t be going to a shelter or anywhere else; they’ve found their home with Jon.

“They’re lucky you found them,” he says, and Jon smiles self-consciously.

“I think I’m the one who was lucky,” he says.

They spend a bit more time with the kittens, and then Martin realizes that it’s about time he got back to work if he doesn’t want to get in trouble. He excuses himself, waving goodbye to Jon’s still curious colleagues, and Jon walks him out to the grand front entrance of the building.

“Thanks again for lunch,” he says. “And—you have my number, right? The offer is open, if you need anything, just text me.”

“I will,” says Jon. “And, ah, let me know if you’d like to come and see the kittens again. Any day. Well, most days,” he corrects himself. “We could, ah, maybe have lunch again?”

“That sounds...really nice,” says Martin. Jon smiles, pleased, and Martin isn’t trying to notice the faint flush that spreads across his face, but it’s very cute anyway.

*

As he walks back to work, Martin’s phone vibrates with a text. It’s a picture of the kittens, curled up on top of each other, with the message:

Come back and see us soon!

Martin grins; the kittens, he thinks, weren’t the only ones lucky to be found last night.

#the magnus archives #jonsimsandcats2021 #my fic #jonmartin

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Loss

The secretary flinched on her seat when she heard the glass door of the hospital shattering and yelped in fear when THE Overhaul slammed his fists on her desk, eyes burning with rage as he almost shouted.

"(L/n) (Y/n). Tell me where the fuck is her. NOW." she trembly nodded while picking her notebook on and the telephone.

He had received a call on the middle of a meeting, mentally rolling his eyes in irritation as he excused himself and accepted the call.

The way his eyes had widen in horror and how he stormed out of the room made everyone not only scared, but each one to have certain curiosity and worrover the situation.

What happened to let Overhaul on that state?

A doctor came by along with his nurse and Chisaki grabbed the hem of his jacket, the glare he was still wearing seemed like fire was going to spill from them by any moment while he demanded thhat he spilled out what the fuck had happened.

"S-She suffered a accident." The doctor gasped out, breathing in a long sigh of relief when the man let go "A villain fight on the center, the man accompanying her didn't survived but she is still alive." They patted their clothing, shakily looking up at the fuming man in front of them.

"The ambulance found her phone and saw it on her emergency contacts yout number. You're family or friend?"

"Mind your own business and let me in." He shoved past the doctor and abruptly entered the room, ignoring the nurses pleas for him to wait.

The sign of your bruised and beaten up image made him want to vomit... the bandaged wrapped around your head as your hair was sprawled out on the pillow you were laying on...

He felt his throat tightening as his eyes seemed to burn... slowly reaching the bed to caress your patched up face with his thumb carefully...

The only comforting sounds he heard on that cursed cold room were the beeping of the machine... indicating that you were unconscious, but alive no less.

"Get the fuck out." He muttered angrily as his hands turned into shaking fists, the doctors and nurses frowing but yet respecting his demand.

He carefully grabbed your hand on his both gloved ones as he took the seat next to you... He controlled the urge of shouting and letting his tears fall as he numbly stared at the bedsheets, his attention focused only on the beeping.

~

He ended up falling asleep on that place, head resting on his crossed arms on the bed.

He, for the first time, thanked the heavens for letting him have a light sleep, because he woke up with your stiring and weak groans.

Chisaki jerked up, eyes wide as his lips trembled a bit at seing his angel's eyes finally cracking open.

"(Y/n)..." he breathed, lowering his mask down when you looked at him confusedly "(Y/n)! My angel, thank god!" He, without thinking straight, wrapped his arms around you tightly as he breathed in on your scent and kissed with tears rolling down his face.

He only came to realize later that instead of feeling your arms wrapping around him or even a cute little giggle of yours, your body had tensed up under his hold...

Now it was his time to frow, grapping onto your shoulders as he parted only for a few inches.

"Angel I swear on my grave that I am not sending any garbage to accompany you anymore..." he talked, looking at your confused and quite... feared eyes.

"U-uh..." you awkwardly muttered as you slowly but firmly brought your hands to his gloved ones and took them off from your shoulder... Chisaki arching a eyebrow at your action in total dissaproval when you placed his hands to himself.

Then he widened his eyes in complete horror and disgust, hives appearing om his pale skin as his brain processed those despicable words he never once thought he would hear it from you ever again...

"Who... who are you?"

~

"It seems that after the impact, her brain got affected by the section where it lands the data of her memories..." the doctor spoked as him tapped his finger on his chin while analyzing your X-ray.

Chisaki didn't even dared to say a word... not even being a complete arrogant towards the man as he explained the situation of his partner.

"Her brain is still functioning and she has still her memories from her whole period of school aparently."

"... then why?" He asked in a numb tone as he stared at his closed gloved hands.

"It seems to be a rare type of amnesia ... she actually remembers all of yesterday's events for example; but due to the blow she must have received, the part where the memory about you is kept was the most affected."

"What's the cure?" He growled immediately, trying to surpress his angry shaking.

"There is no cure mister..." the doctor grunted when Chisaki grabbed the hem of his shirt.

"You as a doctor have the fucking obligation to find a cure or at least treat any diseases on this planet so you got the nerves to say that THIS doesn't have even a fucking treatment?!" He shouted, the doctor still keeping his calm attitude somehow.

"The human brain is a complicated thing... she might return her memories or not. We can't know. The maximum you can do now is try little by little to show what you were to her..." he mentally sighed in relief when Chisaki putted him down slowly "But not everthing, go slow... she might have a combustion or be too much overwhelmed."

His parted lips trembled underneath his mask as he wordless left the office...

You... didn't know him. Didn't know who he was or what he was to you...

He was a stranger. A fucking stranger to your eyes...

He dragged his feet to your room. You were already standing up and fixing up your hair on a mirror before you yelped at noticing his presence.

"Uh, hello..?" You awkwardly gretted him with a uncomfortable smile, not knowing how long he was standing there.

He nodded as in a gretting before his broken hearted eyes locked with your own. You felt pity over the man... the moment you told him you had no idea who he was he panicked, opened the door of that hospital room and shouted for the nurses to come explain this.

"...Come. I... will take you home." You tilted your head in confusion.

"I... no. Thank you for the offer but I-"

"I know where you live..." he muttered the words "I know this sounds stupid... but I am your.." he breath in to control the burning in his eyes as he looked down at the floor "Your boyfriend."

"Eh?" He wanted to chuckle so badly at hearing that precious confused sound... but the situation didn't let him "... I'm sorry. I... don't remember you..."

"They already told me. How does your house look like? Just to make sure." He tried, afraid of hearing that your answer would be that cursed apartment of yours.

"Uh... its a japanese like style house. Has a yard with beautiful trees on." You smiled, making hin want to scream in frustation.

It was his house. The Shie Hassaikai's house. You remembered the damn place but not him.

"... Come with me." He sayed nonchantly as he shived his fists onto his pockets and left the room, you following him right after.

You entered on his car and didn't speaked a word as he drove... afraid of making more weird the situation than it was already.

You recognize the place as he stopped and left the keys with a subordinate.

"Ah so you weren't trying to kidnapped me or something." You tried to joke, but that man's face didn't even twitched out of that broken shattered look as he only nodded and continued to walk.

He noticed that you didn't recognized the people on there either... being extremely awkwardly. Still, you were extremely polite with everyone of them, especially Pops.

He winced at remembering the first he brought you here... your actions being the same but instead lf just closing in yourself liek now, you found some comfort on him on the new area...

Pops patted his shoulder at seing Chisaki's huge amount of pain on his eyes while all he wanted to do was succumb onto his knees and scream until his vocal cords exploded.

You looked even more uncomfortable when he guided you to your shared bedroom. Noticing your embarrassment and... distrustful look.

"Not comfortable sleeping on the same room with a stranger." He more pointed out than asked.

"Yeaaah." You scratched the back of your neck before looking up at him "B-But i can sleep on the couch! You don't need to-"

"Is not necessary." He interrupted "You have all the rights to keep this room." He left without much of a word, only telling you that dinner was going to be soon and if you needed him, all you have to do is call.

You arched one eyebrowd of yours while watching him go away... what a weird guy.

~

Pops told him he wasn't obligated to do those things and even Chrono had offered to take his shift... but he refused it.

He needed to drown on his work to forget this pain and his misery.

A knock on the door had snapped him out of it as he rubbed his eyes and allowed whoever it was to enter.

"Excuse me? Am I bothering you?" You asked shyly.

"Never." He answered with a sigh "Something wrong?"

You took the opportunity to enter and sit on the chair in front of him, the awkward atmosphere still on the air.

"I... you said you're ny boyfriend. Right?" He nodded numbly "What type then? I-I mean. I want to know you... again." You found the strengh to look at those amber eyes.

Boyfriend or not, this man was hot.

"... You want the absolute true or the only love dovey shit?" You giggled at his boldness, making him for the first time smirk underneath his mask.

"Grab that black album from the shelter. I will try my best."

He couldn't help but smile at seing your curiosity as you paced through the pages, asking him the main events before you pointed out awkwardly that this was kostly you on that thing...

"I don't like taking or seing my own photos... But you always kept pressing me to at least have one or two... with those cursed puppy eyes."

"Cursed?" You asked, arching a eyebrow at seing the same elder you greeted earlier on one of those.

"Yes. Every time you use them I can't just say no."

"Ah! So you're the secret softie type!" You smiled at him whole he couldn't help but glare daggers at you.

He breathless chuckled at your gasp when he told you he was part and the leader if the yakusa and in that exact same moment you were underneath their roof.... although he almost choked up when you had noticed the pingent adoring around his neck.

The yingyang. A symbol that represented you both way too well. He cared one side while you carried the other.

You took your own in your hands and the way your eyes squinted while looking at the pingent made his early feelings return back.

Because he knew with that look of yours... you were trying hard to remember... but you couldn't. Your brain wouldn't let you have those memories back...

"Enough." He picked abruptly the album and placed it over the shelf with a sigh. You apologized and got out from his office shortly after... maybe his attitude had scared you... godammit!

He punched the wall until his gloved hand was all bloody and bruised before he let out a miserable shout.

He lost his angel... he lost your memories. His world was nothing but pure darkness now.

~

You giggled at seing both white haired man and the creature smaller than him arguing on the end of the hall as you passed through it.

One week had passed after your accident and now you were pretty used to with everyone on the house.

Well... almost everyone.

Chisaki was the man who revealed to be your boyfriend but now he just seemed even more broken and depressed then you saw him once on that hospital.

You tried really hard to remember him... but nothing about this man came up. You also noticed how angry he got when you called him 'Overhaul' or only 'Chisaki'...

You explained to him that calling him by his firts name was still a bit uncomfortable, he understood that and simply waved you off... but you still noticed the way he gripped or turned his hands into fits whenever you called him.

Everyone on there was trying to make you regain your memories back desperately. You even caught a taller man discussing with a muscular one on the hallway once about the situation.

"If miss (Y/N) don't recover her memories soon, master will get worse than he is already."

"You're fucking lucky Tengai. Overhaul at least didn't used his quirk on you three times in less the one hour only because you had asked how was his chick doing."

"You beg though for this Rappa."

"I WASN'T BEING FUCKING SARCASTIC THIS TIME! I WAS GENUILY ASKING!"

You choosed to not know of his quirk after you heard that in fear of what you might discover...

You made your way to the bedroom and sitted on the bed with sigh, picking your cellphone to mess with since you didn't even touched the device ever since you put your foot on here.

You frowned when the screen showed up, a picture of the man you trued so hard on remembering... he didn't seemed to have the knowledge that he was being photographed as he seemed to be reading something without his mask on for once.

His eyes were serious but calm while he readed the book, and something that made your heart twist on yiur ribcage was that you noticed that his gloved fingers were interconnected with bare ones right on the corner.

It was your hand in there.

You didn't needed to know his whole life to already know that this man had a despised for touch and was a mysophobic... but you catched plenty times him going to reach for your hand or your hair only to pull his hand back with a broken sigh and walk away frrom you as far as possible.

You had to admit that this pained you somehow.

You dropped your cellphone, not feeling like messing around on it anymore as you shivered at a cold breeze that passed through the window...

You didn't like it very much closed places so you opted to get up and grab a hoodie instead of closing the window.

Just when you opened you saw the iconic green jacket that Overhaul always used whenever he was out or when he just felt like it.

Curiosity consumed you as you caustiously picked and holded close... scenting the intoxicating smell that left you feeling like you were in heaven.

You wondered a bit before shameless wearing the coat on, way bigger than you but you felt... safe.

You took another sniff... gasping and dropping into your butt when a bright and rather painful flash came into your head as you fell.

You groaned and placed your hand on the bed as you tried to get up, wincing as another flash came by making you want to scream in pain... before you saw it.

Him. The man. Your... your boyfriend of three years!

Chisaki Kai.. Chisaki Kai! You remembered him!

~

"KAI!" he stopped writing on the papers when he heard your voice shouting his first name.

... it was his mind playing tricks on him. You didn't called him 'Kai' anymore.

He scoffed and went to return to writing before he dropped his pen and widened his eyes at hearing your screams again.

He got up and opened the door, stepping in on the hall way and looking at both sides.

"KAI!" You breath out, when you turned on a hallway and saw him looking at you with worried yet serious eyes.

You runned towars him withiut a care, jumped on him as he groaned at the impact with the floor, wincing at not knowing if that place was clean or not.

"Kai!" You breath out as you cupped his face on your hands as your tears fell, nuzzling on him "My life, my boyfriend, my devil! I remember! Everthing!" You cried, while Chisaki's eyes widened as his pupils trembled a bit.

He managed to at least sip up, arms now holding you with a iron grip as he still processed while you cried on his shoulder... his own relived tears falling at hearing that you called him your devil.

"(Y/N).." he breathed out in a smile underneath his mask, hugging you even closer as he buried his face on your shoulder with a shaking sigh "My angel... my precious angel you're back..!" He whisper shouted as he holded onto you tight.

He growled in disaproval when you separated before grunting when you grabbed him by the hem of his shirt after yanking his mask down to crash your lips with his... smirking when you felt him sigh on it as his hands went to your waist... straddling his lap.

"I'm so so sorry! How could I ever forget you?!" You whispered between kisses, crying a bit as he hushed you harshly while wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers, taking advantage of your mouth being open to after days taste that scent flavor of his angel he had craved for...

"You aren't the one to blame my love. Never." He said after taking a break for at least to have oxygen back to his chest, helping you up from the floor. "How I wonder? I was running out of hope already..."

"Your scent. Your cologne. When I took your jacket-"

"Ah yes. Little thief." He chuckled at your pout before you skirked devilish and snuggled even more on his coat and on him.

"It was.. like a flash. Kai..." you breathed in on his neck, tearing up at feeling him resting his chin on your head as his gloved fingers worked thorugh your hair.

"My life is so painful and so dark without you my angel... those days were like hell." He admited, subsconciously touching his bare lips on you as a kiss.

Chrono just had stepped in on the room before he quickly turned back when he saw his childhood friend cupping his lover face on his hands as he traced her face with his lips lovely... the skies even seemed to get brighter wben Overhaul's partner recuperated her memory...

#overhaul x reader #overhaul scenario #fanfic overhaul #overhaul #chisaki kai imagine scenario #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #kai chisaki #chisaki kai #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains #bnha #my writing #zuffer writings

[pompompossum]

It was always the quiet days that set Mond’s Cavalry Captain on edge. As a man who makes his living on hushed gossip and drunken secrets, a quiet day was a dangerous day. While Mondays usually set the city square into a frenzy, with the announcement of new bounties for aspiring adventures and the restocking of goods across the various vendors in town, the torrential rain that met the city as the sun rose that morning meant that only those who lacked their daily essentials were left scrambling about, bouncing between buildings in search of shelter. 

That isn’t to say that he was slacking off with the poor weather hanging overhead. No, that would be too easy. Rather, poor weather meant paperwork. And by the Seven, Kaeya swore to himself that Lisa had been hoarding every miscellaneous form she could get her hands on for him to review since he had forgotten to return that one book on Snezhnaya he had borrowed after one of his operatives spotted La Signora in the city. It wasn’t his fault that the tomb had made for the perfect paperweight after he had found it was worthless for his intended purposes. 

The smile she’d worn as she cornered him in the lobby after his lunch break earlier in the afternoon had bordered on sadistic. He was on his fifth hour of administrative work by now and, between the pounding rain howling against his window and the strain reading by candlelight put on his one functioning eye, he scraped his chair against the hardwood away from his desk as he brought a hand up to nurse his aching head. 

He’d probably have to stay in the barracks tonight. The rain showed no signs of stopping and his apartment, tucked snug in the side street near the travelling vendors’ market, was too far to traverse in this weather. Perhaps he could fashion a makeshift cryo umbrella, if only he could reach the end of this damned paperwork. Public relations, damage estimates for recent Abyss encounters, and was that paperwork for the library? Gods, Lisa really hated him right now, huh? The captain was certain he had a nice vintage squirreled away in his wine cabinet at home. A lovely barolo gifted to him by a noble from Fontaine not long after his rise to Cavalry Captain. Though Kaeya had never abstained from alcohol, certainly since he was old enough to legally drink, the thought of wine at the time had driven him to hide it away. He supposed that Lisa would make much better use of it than himself and made a mental note to find it when he got home. 

With a sigh, the captain stretched in his seat until his neglected joints popped, groaning at the release of tension. Given his busy schedule, he had forgotten his plans to stop for supper at Good Hunter. Glancing at his pocket watch, a gift from the Traveller, he noted it was past Sara’s typical business hours. Ah well, a cup of tea would have to suffice. With it being so late, he would have the luxury of the headquarters’ common room to himself. While many of the higher ranking officers of the Ordo took breaks and tea in their own private offices, a common room on the second floor was provided for the knights to avail of. And the last time Kaeya checked, there had been a small kitchen there, one where Miss Noelle was handy to store that lovely chamomile tea she had served him recently. 

Rising from his desk, he made his way from his office and down towards the common area, giving a brief, lazy salute to any knights stuck on nightwatch. He was thankful that Swan seemed to be off this evening, likely on shift at the city gates. Barbatos knows that man took his job far too seriously, and Kaeya was too tired to receive his advice on following the Ordo’s handbook effectively. Instead, the few knights he passed were content to simply share brief “hello”s and well wishes to their captain, and soon Kaeya found himself striking matches in the common room before watching the water slowly rise to temperature, the flames waving faintly in the hearth. As the water came to a boil, he busied himself with finding just where Noelle had hidden her tea that evening when suddenly he heard the floorboards in the common room creak. Hmm, curious. Placing the tea tin on the counter gently and snuffing the flame with a gust of cryo, he crept to the corner of the doorway, curious to see who else might be roaming the halls after hours.

No one, so it would seem. The room hadn’t changed since he entered, with no sign of anyone. Except the door had been jarred and there was a soft sniffling sound coming from behind the chaise lounge on the other side of the room. Light on his feet, the captain came closer, spotting a familiar shade of blonde crouched against the window behind the furniture, tiny legs tucked in tightly, face smooshed into her knees.

“Klee? What are you doing up past your bedtime?” Kaeya softened his features as he watched her jump, making sure to not crowd her in her hiding spot.

“Kaeya!” And oh dear those were tears, weren’t they? “Klee didn’t know you were here…” 

“And I you, my little Spark Knight.” He considered her spot, sitting next to the window overlooking the city, including a clear view of the city gates. Visibility was poor, but Kaeya could see the window’s view of Dawn Winery in his mind. In the daylight, one could almost make out the servants’ outdoor lounge and the vineyard. “Would you mind if I sat with you?”

She gave a small nod, hiding her face in her knees once again. Oh dear Captain Kaeya you’ve found yourself even more trouble tonight, huh? One of the knights had left a plush blanket draped against the arm of the chaise. Given the chill of the glass, surely it would be appreciated. Picking it up, he bent down to sit against the window, his legs bent awkwardly to fit behind the furniture. Gently, he wrapped the blanket around her, tucking the little Spark Knight in with a pat on the head. Then, he sat and he waited. Situations like this called for patience. Slowly, he heard her shift in the blanket as she loosened her posture, coming to rest her head on his arm. 

“Klee doesn’t like it when it rains.” The young pyro wielder whispered, so quiet Kaeya strained to hear her. “It’s cold and I can’t use my vision or play with Razor or Qiqi. And… and it makes me worry about where mommy is.” Ahh, there it was...

It wasn’t long after his promotion that Alice had left Mondstadt. At first, when Alice had arrived at the Varka’s office with a tiny child clinging to her skirts and peeking out to take in the building, it was assumed the situation would be a temporary one. As one of Teyvat’s greatest minds, the alchemist’s research was of great importance to the Ordo. Used by both the Knights and common folk alike, her Teyvat Travel Guides served as crucial tools for any adventurer and her work with the Hexenzirkel provided invaluable data for the study of the Abyss Realm. So, for her to announce her intentions to leave Mond for research purposes was unsurprising. 

But, seasons had passed and letters from the alchemist had been few and far in between. Though Alice spoke of her love for her little Spark and her hopes to see her again soon, each letter shared a common theme. Complications had arisen and research would take longer than expected.  While his web of intel ensured him of her safety, it had been about five months since Kaeya had heard of a letter arriving from her. Alice is a strong woman of course. While visionless, her alchemic abilities, as well as her ability to craft and deploy explosives, made her a formidable opponent in combat. There was no real worry over her safety. But, loneliness was understandable. While Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist is a highly capable and intelligent man, socialization was something Albedo often neglected. Rather, he was more often than not a phantom within the Ordo Headquarters, appearing from his private laboratory only for resource gathering and the occasional trip to visit Timaeus in the city square. Thus, like many of the children received by the city of freedom, Klee found herself in the protection and care of the entire Ordo. A child of Mondstadt through and through. And that meant she was under Kaeya’s care tonight.

Running a hand through one of her pigtails, tucking a stray lock behind her ear, he looked out into the rain. “Storms like this are sad, aren’t they? Can I share a secret with you?” 

“Big brother Kaeya has a secret? Klee promises not to tell!” The young knight assures him, raising a pudgy little finger to her lips, her voice hushed and earnest. A child’s naivete is something sacred, indeed. Her reaction brings a tiny smile to his face.

“I don’t like the rain either.” Storms bring memories of retreating backs, the biting sting of rejection and the chill of abandonment. When the wind howls, getting caught in the rain is like a kiss from the Tsaritsa against his exposed skin, reminding him of the delicate embrace of her cryo shield that night. It makes his vision thrum and flicker against his hip and causes the skin beneath his eyepatch to ache something fierce. Rain means tragedy and pain, and honesty in a way Kaeya has long since denied himself the pleasure of.

“Klee wonders if mommy has shelter, or if it’s sunny where she is.” 

The rain brings the worst of Kaeya to the surface, melts his shields of mockery and cryo and leaves him stark and defenseless to the storm. But-

“It has to rain sometimes, if the flowers are to grow and the rivers are to last. Without the rain, the world loses a part of itself. And I’m sure that even when it’s cold, Miss Alice is kept warm knowing that you’re safe and sound here.” Klee lets out a soft noise in thought. She’s been slowly worming her way into his lap, pulling her blanket around them both in the process. “Besides, the rain makes us seek shelter and warmth and brings people closer together in doing so. We can appreciate our time in the company of another and look forward to seeing the sun when it’s over. It’s always nice after the rain, isn’t it?”

The young girl tucks the blanket under her chin, leaning her head back against his chest to look up at him.

“Klee likes the rainbows after a storm. And the way the air smells. And Klee’s favourite mushyrooms like the rain, so they grow extra big after!” Her voice grows in her excitement, chattering like a Springvale squirrel. 

“That’s right. It’s not very nice out right now, but we have plenty to look forward to in the morning. After you get some rest.” Klee is a wonderful child, but he was glad to say he had never seen her cranky from lack of sleep. And he was not in the mood to find out what that looked like, especially with the experiments she and Albedo have been concocting lately. The smell of gunpowder and flaming flower stamens emanating from the alchemy wing within the past few weeks had been concerning to say the least.

“But Klee’s not tired yet..” 

“Then how about you join me for some tea and then we’ll see. You caught me just as I was brewing some.” Chamomile would be useful for chasing away any bad dreams, and the sooner the Spark Knight was back in bed, the sooner he could return to his work.

“Okay!” Still so vibrant and loud at such a late hour. Kaeya supposed that their secret sharing time, and its quietness, were over for the night. “Can Klee have honey in her tea? Pleasee?” Sugar might not be a good idea this late at night but what the hell? Kaeya could be the fun brother tonight. Rising to his feet with a bundle of Klee and blanket in his arms, he let out a light chuckle. 

“I’m sure that can be arranged, my dear Spark Knight.”

It didn’t take long for the tea to work its magic. While she may have whined over the prospect of going back to bed, Kaeya found himself moving to protect her head from hitting her tea cup more than once as the pair shared a late night snack. He wasn’t sure who had left a tin of baked goods in the kitchen, but he made note to stop by Good Hunter early tomorrow to replace them. Making their way back to solitary, Kaeya lifted her up to rest against his shoulder as they reached the stairs. Pulling back her bed covers gently, Kaeya laid her down gently, placing Dodoco beside her.

“Okay, firefly, hat and scarf, please.” While she had been dressed for bed, she had kept those on, likely to ward the chill of the building at night. As she passed each of them to him, he hung them on their respective hangers above her desk, each adorned with a different breed of crystalfly. She was asleep before he even turned around. Kneeling down next to her cot, he pulled the thick, red quilt up and over, tucking her in in a familiar motion, making sure Dodoco was tucked in just as tight. Smoothing down her hair, he rose to his feet, moving to snuff out the bedside lantern. 

“Good night, big brother…” It was soft, muffled by pillows and blankets, but Kaeya heard her loud and clear. 

“Good night Klee. Sweetest dreams.” Shutting the door as quietly as possible and sharing a brief greeting with Wood, the Cavalry Captain made his way back to his office. But not long after returning to his desk, sleep caught up with him as well.

---

The wind was too loud, even with his hands over his ears. It was the first storm since Kaeya began living at the manor and it was dredging up sore memories. It made him think of Mama. It was always cold in Khaenri’ah, so if it was cold in Mondstadt it must be freezing there tonight. She had found materials to work on that blanket she had been planning just before his father whisked him away. It had been about six months now since he arrived in Mondstadt. Kaeya wonders if she got to finish it before the weather got colder. Kaeya wishes he had had the chance to help her with it. She always made him tea before he sat and watched her work.

It was past 8 o’clock, the time Master Crepus set for him and the young master to head to bed. The two children shared bedrooms next to one another, their beds sharing the same wall. Kaeya wondered if the person in the bed next door was finding it easier to sleep. Diluc had warmed up to him instantly, even as the adults around them worried over what to do with a lost and scared child, still wrapped in the lord of the house’s rain soaked coat. While Kaeya still struggled with some aspects of Mond’s language and various dialects, Diluc’s running dialogue of funny stories and history lessons of all his favourite places in Mondstadt had made it easier to pick up the language fast. On more than one night, Kaeya found himself lulled to sleep by the boy’s stories of Arundolyn and Rostam, only to find himself safe and snug in his bedroom by morning. 

Curling his fists in his blankets, he wondered if Diluc was still awake. Clutching the lightest of the bed clothes to his chest, a knit chenille blanket Crepus had gifted him his first night in the manor, he crept out of the room and across the hall on the balls of his feet. Diluc’s bedroom door was unlocked, but Kaeya hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. What if Diluc got mad at Kaeya for waking him up? Kaeya was only a year and a half younger, but what if the redhead thought he was a crybaby? Before he could make up his mind, the door, not fully shut when the elder boy had gone to bed, creaked open on unoiled hinges. From the doorway, Kaeya watched as the body laying in bed shifted before letting out a small groan.

“Kaeya..?” Darn it, Kaeya thought, as Diluc sat up, rubbing at his eyes lazily with his fist, “What’s wrong?” Kaeya froze like a deer in the headlights, unsure what to do. At his silence, Diluc perked up, squinting into the darkness to make out the shape in his doorway. “Kaeya? Is everything okay?”

“I can’t sleep…” His cheeks burned with embarrassment, little feet shuffling against the cold hardwood. He wrapped his blanket around himself tighter, tucking in his chilly nose and mouth, as if it would muffle what had already been said. The older boy watched him for a moment, before shifting in bed.

“Wanna sleep here tonight?” To punctuate his question, Diluc patted the empty space next to him. Kaeya gave a small nod before padding into the room, moving fast before the redhead could rescind the offer. Crawling under the blankets, he snuggled into the warmth, savouring the safe space. He hadn’t noticed from the doorway, but Diluc had stuffed animals in the bed with him. Kaeya hadn’t seen them before, but his older brother was adamant that he wasn’t a little boy anymore. He was just shy of 12 years old, after all. So it made sense he would be sensitive about needing plushies to sleep. Kaeya held the paw of a dog-shaped plush as he turned his head to face Diluc.

“What’s keeping you up?” Diluc had a furrow between his brows as he looked at him, having settled back into bed. He had wrapped his arms around his pillow, squishing his cheek into the fabric as he tried to read his brother’s face in the dark. He pouted as he said it, as if he had phrased something wrong. “You don’t need to tell me, but I want to help.”

“The storm,” Kaeya took a deep breath to calm himself, wrapping himself into the blanket cocoon tighter and pulling the plushie closer. “I want my mama… She always let me sleep with her when it was scary outside.” The smell of fresh linens clinging to the sheets around him was so different from the smell of lavender she carried. The pillows felt nothing like the comfort of his head resting on her chest, her fingers smoothing the knots in his hair. 

“I miss my mom too,” Diluc’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “I didn’t get to know her, but dad has so many stories about her. Whenever I have nightmares, he lets me stay in his room for the night and he tells me stories about her until I fall asleep.” His grip on the pillow tightened. “Our moms aren’t around, but we have each other! We can scare the nightmares away, right?” The young redhead had raised his voice and Kaeya tried his best to stifle his laugh. Laughing would be mean, mama said so. And Diluc’s bed and stuffed animals were more comfy than his cold room with all that wind howling outside his window. So, instead he nodded.

“Mhm!”

---

Sleeping sitting up was never good for the neck or back. And sleeping on a mountain of paperwork and pens wasn’t much better. 

The sunlight had been a rude awakening. The torrential downpour had broken, the clouds parting to reveal the sunniest day Mond had seen in a while, light catching on the puddles as a rainbow stretched lazily across the horizon. It would have been pretty if it hadn’t been so impolite in waking the Quartermaster. Letting out a croaky yawn, Kaeya popped his back as he stretched like a cat across his desk. The paperwork beneath him was a lost cause, so why not. Gods, Lisa was going to have his neck. Better buy a few electro resistance potions before he faced her today. 

Looking over his desk to survey the damage, he noticed a bundle of red cloth complete with a small note written in clunky, childish handwriting.

“Good morning, Kaeya! Klee made fishy toast and skewers with Aether and Paimon for you. Enjoy! :)” 

Kaeya let out a huff of laughter at the doodle she had left at the bottom of the note of them both standing in the sun. The way she had drawn his face told him that Albedo had given her art lessons again. Tucking into his breakfast, Kaeya gazed out the window. The storm had dissipated to reveal a cloudless sky, and from his office he could see the people in the market square milling about, mingling and laughing in the balmy spring air. 

The view told Kaeya that it was going to be a good day today.

#genshin impact #kaeya ragnvindr #kaeya alberich #genshin klee #diluc ragnvindr #this fic has been sitting in my wips since new years #so why not post it now? #fic #k*eluc shippers dni #tag this as inc*st and i'll bust your kneecaps

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Unedited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Twenty Eight: The One When He Comes Home

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2338

   Lily and Cedar sat in the lab for a few moments after she posed her question, eyes locked on one another, trying to figure out what the other was thinking. The two were seemingly two birds of a feather when they were younger, but as age and the years weathered them both, they split into two. Neither truly understanding what was going on in the other's head. Lily used to be able to figure out Cedar in a matter of seconds, but now...he was just a shell of the brother she adored. He wasn't who he used to be. It broke Lily to see him like this, but she wondered if it may be a charade. If his entire presence was a trick done by her parents to get their hands on what they truly wanted out of all of this.

"So are we just going to sit here and stare at each other?" Cedar quipped, shifting in his seat, "Learn that from the assassin you let sleep in the same house as my nephew?"

Lily lowered her eyes at his words, a rage boiling deep inside of her, "What happened to the calm and relaxed demeanour from yesterday?" she questioned, crossing her legs, "And don't speak about James like that. You don't know him."

"What? Not Bucky anymore?"

"Not to you, he isn't."

Both resumed the same tense silence as earlier, though this time, Lily's back stood a bit straighter. Her eyes lowered and focused solely on the expressionless face of Cedar. He was hiding something behind that facade of being too weak, but that may simply be the cynic inside of Lily. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Perhaps her parents used him against his own will. But if she knew Cedar, he didn't do it willingly.

"What do you want, Cedar?" Lily questioned, leaning back in her seat as Natasha walked in with pancakes.

"To help," he stated cooly, eyes glancing to the agent that dropped the two plates in front of Lily and him, "To help you, and the others."

Lily stayed silent as she waited for Natasha to leave the room. When she did, the blonde leaned forward and took a bite of the pancakes. Not as good as hers, but not bad. She watched Cedar carefully, monitoring every flick of his eyes and twitch of his hands. The way his breath increased whenever he heard voices travelling from upstairs. He was anxious, Lily figured that out pretty quickly, but also scared. Of what? She wasn't sure.

"I need the truth, Cedar." Lily stated simply, placing down her fork.

He hesitated, mouth pursing before he took a bite of his own pancakes, wiping his mouth before speaking, "They want something they can't have, Lily," he said in a hushed tone, "something I know you'd be damned before ever giving up."

"What is it?" She questioned, shrugging her shoulders, "Hunter? Because I'll take them on myself before any of you lay a hand on him."

"Any of us? You think so low of me, Lil?"

"I do," she stated harshly, voice shaking, "I do Cedar. Rose does too. So does Hunter. So does James."

"So your boyfriend's opinion on me means more than everything we've been through?" He scoffed, pushing his plate away.

Lily watched intently. Everything was going as Bucky had instructed her. He wanted her to rile him up, get his emotions going to reveal something they didn't know before. It hurt her, it destroyed her, but she knew he was right. She knew that the man before her was not her brother, but someone else wearing his skin. Maybe had his heart, but not his soul. This was someone who had been corrupted into something far more extreme than he realized. His actions put so many people in danger, and in harm's way, including Lily, and her son.

"What we've been through?" Lily chucked, shaking her head, "No. No Cedar this isn't about what we've been through. This is about what you aren't realizing. I hold James' opinion higher because he was there to put things into perspective for me when you, mom, and dad, were off doing your little experiments."

"This has nothing to do with him." Cedar stated simply, shrugging his shoulders in a menacing mockery of Lily.

"This has everything to do with him. He is my family now Cedar," Lily sneered, "And you have decided to mess with my family. You stopped being family when you tried to hurt my son."

"Oh my god, this has nothing to do with Scott's either!" Cedar exclaimed, standing to his feet and pushing the chair away.

"Why were you there, Cedar?" Lily asked, her voice as calm as a river after a storm.

"Can we not do this-"

"Why were you there?"

"You can't be serious right now, Lily!"

"Answer me!"

"TO GET HUNTER!" Cedar exploded, flipping the plate off the table, causing Lily to jump away out of instinct, "AND TO GET YOU! TO BRING YOU HOME! SO YOU COULD BE LIKE US!"

Lily stared at the man, analyzing the words of his confession. Her heart raced and chest was rising and falling at a rate that showed she was close to tears. Her lips quivered and eyes were wide. She knew he didn't mean their actual home. She didn't know where he meant. But it wasn't the calm, two story, eco friendly home in Long Island. It was where this new Cedar had been made. Because her parents were going to start with their own family. Make them new, and make them into the icons that the world "needed".

"Well that was quite the show." Tony's voice echoed as he stepped into the lab, "Glad to know Cyborg doesn't just have old gears in his head." The man quipped, turning his attention to Cedar, "C'mon. Don't make this arrest harder than it already will be."

Cedar's eyes dropped down to Lily, who was shaking slightly in her seat. Her own eyes dropped down to the broken plate on the floor, her mind racing as memories resurfaced. The feeling of betrayal sat heavy in her stomach, and she knew that it was her own doing. She should have fought harder for him. Made him confess that he was being manipulated or controlled. Anything to prove that what Cedar was doing was not his true intent, not his true wishes. But she knew that it was, all from the heavy breathing escaping from his mouth as he sneered down at his sister. The way he looked at her, that of disgust and hurt. She could only imagine what her own looked like.

"You've become a coward, Lily." He spat, before turning towards Tony.

-----

Two hours later, Lily sat in her bed with the blankets pulled tightly up to her chin. Tears ceased to fall from her cheeks, seemingly having run out. Her body shook as the dry heaving took over her quiet sobs. No one dared ask to talk, not even Rose. Steve tried at first, and earned a pillow being thrown at him by the broken woman. Her hands were numb and aching from the grip she held on the blankets, trying to hide away from the world. She hated herself for what she did, despite it being the right thing.

The sound of a helicopter or plane above the compound set Lily's heart off into a frenzy. Either someone was visiting, or Bucky was coming home. With Cedar's confession and evidence of DNA altering from Tony and Bruce's tests, she could only assume that they had enough to convict her parents of whatever. But she didn't move from her spot. She couldn't. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to face the truth of what happened. What she did. She betrayed her own family. But most of all, she failed.

She raised Cedar. She cooked for him, bathed him, did everything for him. She swore to protect him at all costs. Keep him safe from all the dangers of the world, just as she had sworn to Hunter. Instead, she let him fall into the hands of her parents. Those same parents she came to realize were the farthest thing from that. They provided food, and a shelter, sure, but they weren't parents. They never cared for Lily, they never cared for Rose, and all they ever did to Cedar was us him. Convince him of things she knew for a fact weren't true. Maybe that's why he went to them. Trying to fill that hole of not having them as a child.

He was her brother. And she said he wasn't even family anymore.

Her eyes lifted as her bedroom door opened, the face of her son popping around with sad eyes. Lily immediately released the blankets and wiped her eyes, opening her arms to Hunter as he walked forward. When he climbed onto the bed, Lily gave a weak and clearly forced smile. She knew he could see through it, but she figured any sense of comfort that he could get, would help in the times he was experiencing. Hunter sat across from her with his legs crossed, mirroring her own position.

"Uncle Cedar is getting arrested," he whispered, voice barely louder than the wind.

"I know," Lily whispered, nodding slowly as she pursed her lips, "They won't try to hurt us anymore. Ever. I promise."

Hunter wiped his eyes as he crawled into his mom's arms, curling into her shoulder as his warm tears dropped onto her collarbone. The world fell away as she listened to his heavy breathing. Her fingers ran soothing circles down his back, her own pain putting itself on the backburner. Hunter was her main priority right now. It didn't matter what she said, what she did, as long as Hunter was in her arms. He was safe, healthy, and with her. No one out there trying to hurt him or get to him anymore. Because she sacrificed what she needed to.

Maybe more than she intended to.

"Can't you give them a bit?" a hushed voice echoed from outside of her room, "She's been crying for two hours." Steve continued, his voice growing closer as boots tapped on the ground.

"Steve, that is the woman he loves in there," Sam retorted back, "I need to tell her. We also need to talk about her parents' arrest."

"She just helped have her parents and brother arrested, don't you think she deserves a few minutes alone with her son?"

Silence fell. No one breathed, no one spoke. The only noise was the soft cries from the boy Lily held in her arms. Her own heart seemed to cease from beating as the familiar voice of Sam replayed through her head. Something happened. Something terrible happened. Lily didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to know. Whatever Bucky did, she knew it wasn't good. Whether it was sacrificing himself, or forcing Sam to leave. But she figured out pretty quickly he didn't arrive home with Sam. Which only scared her more.

The creak of the door handle set Lily's heart in motion once more. Sam's face poked around, a large bruise on his eye and gash across his cheek.

"Where is he?" She croaked.

-----

Arrested. Her parents were arrested. And she was at her wits end. She couldn't do it. So when Sam told her he didn't know where he was, Lily snapped. She packed everything, put Hunter, Rose, and Joey in the car and was gone. No one tried to stop her. No one tried to get her to stay. They knew there was nothing they could have said. Lily Osborne was sick and tired of being caught up in the Avengers.

She couldn't do it.

No one spoke. Not a word was exchanged as Lily drove back down to the small home she missed. It was enough. But when she turned the corner, a car stuck out to her. One in her driveway she never saw really. She'd seen it, but she and him never used it. They used her car primarily. But her blood boiled as she pulled in and stormed into the house.

There he was, bruised and battered, sitting on her couch.

"Rose," Lily called back, "Take Hunter to Gen's."

Bucky's face fell as he listened to her words. Dread took over his face and Lily slammed the door, her face hard and aggressive. The anger she always hid away fought its way to the surface as he stayed sitting. Neither spoke, neither breathed. The only noise was the air conditioner that warmed the house around them.

"Hi Doll."

"Do not call me that," Lily exclaimed, slamming her keys down and walking across to the living room, "You do not speak right now. You sit, and listen. Because I have had enough, James."

And he did as told. He readjusted in his seat and waited for the hell that Lily was about to unleash.

"You have roped my family into something," she snapped, "I'm tired. I'm so tired. I am so tired Bucky."

"I kno-"

"No! No Bucky you don't know!" She exclaimed, tugging at her hair, "You made a promise to me. You promised me you would keep us out of danger. And here we are, after two weeks of sitting in an Avengers Compound because we were in danger."

"Lily please-"

"No I'm not done talking," she retorted, eyes bearing down into him, "I felt so sick these past weeks. Not knowing where you are, what you're doing. If you're alive! I sat in my bed like the dotting wife who was waiting for you. But for the love of GOD Bucky I can't keep doing that!"

"Lily I'm retiring."

"No don't do that," Lily whispered, tears rolling down her face, "Because you know that's not true. You will say you're done and they will rope you right back in."

"Lily- "

"Get out. Get out Bucky. I'm tired. I'm done."

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female oc #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #original female character #female oc #OC #oc tag #oc x canon #marvel #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier #The Avengers #tfatws #fanfiction #single mom #Sebastian Stan #romance #fluffy #comedy #james bucky barnes

[linkspooky]

ozone hawks wants to shelter jin from the coming storm of the hero invasion and know he’ll be safe when it’s over, even though he’s the one putting him in the most danger // writing for the jinkei bang written for this art by @comradetodoroki​

Storms have always put me at ease. 

There’s  something about the way they ravage our ridiculous world and wash it away like so much sludge. 

🌩️

He pulled his hands back through feathered hair. He smoothed it, only for it to pop back up ruffled again. It’s out of character. It’s anxious behavior. Hawks needed to be smooth. Water had to roll off of him and nothing could stick to him otherwise he would get weighed down. He’s just talking. Someone is talking. It’s amazing how his mouth is like a machine. He can hear the words come out and he doesn’t have to think too hard about them because he’s been trained at talking to others. 

But this guy. Jin. He’s easier to talk to than most. 

“It’s pretty dumb for a bird to be afraid of heights.” “Yeah, yeah. It’s bird brained.” “…You are my favorite person for saying that.” 

Hawks doesn’t bear his soul, that sort of requires having a soul and a soul is another thing that would weigh him down. Jin asked him what his fear was, actually Jin talked about his fears. It turns out Jin is afraid of almost everything.

Jin, Jin, he’s calling him Jin now. It’s Twice. Hawks doesn’t know if he’s scared of anything, but then Jin stared at him with those big eyes and he realized he was supposed to say something and ‘heights’ was the first thing that came out of his mouth. It’s not exactly heights, he can be in high places just fine. It’s the idea of falling. It’s out of his control, the falling. He doesn’t even mind the idea of hitting the ground. Just, smashing, and leaving a carcass of feathers, and fragile bones shattered. It’s the idea of falling forever unable to control his trajectory, utterly helpless. Falling at terminal velocity. The air doesn’t leave your lungs like you’d expect it to. And even though you’re surrounded by nothing but air, you’re suffocating, drowning in the blue sky. No, maybe it was the sky that scared him. 

Everyone else looked up at the sky and saw freedom. It was so liberating. The sky seemed endless to Hawks. But there was nothing to see. Jin suddenly threw his arms around him from behind, looping them on his shoulder. Jin- Twice was so touchy feely, and so heavy, almost too heavy as he leaned his entire body weight on Hawks. Hawks stumbled forward and hit his face against the glass of the window in the room the two of them used as a hangout. “Let’s go outside! No, I want to stay in my room forever. I’m never going to be a corporate slave, I’ll be a NEET like Spinner!” Twice tended to have two minds about everything, but Hawks was a good listener. “We can’t go out in full costume. People will see us.” Hawks wondered if he was really listening. Birds have a habit called mirroring. They can imitate the noises humans make with their mouths, they can say words, but it’s not like the words carry any real meaning behind them. Just a hollow imitation. He is a mirror that Jin looks into and sees a friend. Jin suddenly has a burst of energy and shakes Hawks by the shoulders. Hawks was shaken. His head bobbed back and forth. “Please, please, please. I’m not going to beg you.” 

“Look, at least one of us has to have common sense.” “And it’s me, right? Because I’m just a normal guy. I’m just your friendly neighborhood Jin.” 

“Yeah, totally.” Hawks doesn’t want to be mean. “You don’t want to be seen with me, is that it? Well, I’m too cool for you anyway.” Jin had stopped shaking him now, and Hawks kind of wished he would have kept at it. Now that they’ve both stopped, Jin’s hands were on his shoulders. His large hands, capable of holding so much. And Jin stared into his eyes. Jin is wearing a mask and yet his every feeling is so obvious. The emotions in those eyes… heavy. Heavier than the whole sky, like the sky’s weight bearing down on him, crushing him. 

“Yeah man, you’re way out of my league. The cool kids never let me hang out with them in high school. That’s why I became a villain.” Actually, he never even went to high school. “But that’s not it. It’s going to storm soon.” “Huh? So what?” “Can’t fly if my feathers get wet.” “Have Dabi dry them off for you!” 

“Um, thanks but no thanks.” “How do you know it’s storming anyway?” 

“I can feel it in my bones,” Hawks chirped. He can. His bones are light and hollow so he can fly, and when he was with Jin he felt a sort of empty pang in them. A feeling that made his toes curl, and his fingernails dig so deep into his palms that he left red welts. “Are you an old man?” “Something like that…” Hawks muttered. He certainly wasn’t a kid. He never was. “If we don’t go outside right now, I’ll cry. Is that what you want? You want me to cry? You meanie, big bully, villain, fiend! All of my friends will beat you up!” Hawks opened his mouth. He tasted only air. He dry swallowed. Twice smiled so earnestly with his whole face, in a way that it couldn’t be a lie. For some reason the thought of making him cry at this moment cut him. It peeled back all the layers, scars, skins, feathers, bone. Hawks was caught completely offguard. Bad, bad, bad. He was the one manipulating Jin, not the other way around. He couldn’t be moved by this he must stay firmly rooted to the ground. He closed his eyes and put on a smile, his smile so fake compared to Jin’s. “Awe man, I can’t say no to you, huh?” 

🌩️

“This is the best day ever. This is the worst day ever! I can’t believe it rained on our parade. Jin, you stupid idiot, who would ever throw you a parade?”

The pounding of raining, the rolling of thunder, both of them beat against Hawks relentlessly. The two of them stranded on a park bench. The noise of the storm washed away everything else, and it was like the two of them were the only ones there. If this storm was some kind of apocalyptic hurricane that washed away everything would and the two of them were the only ones left. If nobody was watching, under the cover of the noise of the storm, could he be his true self in front of Twice? Probably not. Anyway, enough with the deep thoughts bird boy. They walked for a little bit before it suddenly started to storm. The entire time Hawks studied Jin’s hand as if he was trying to comprehend the shape of it. He even tried to reach for it once, only to grasp at empty air when Jin suddenly got distracted by it and turned around. “Hey, a bird! A bird! Look at the stupid feathery asshole! You can talk with birds, right?” “God, I wish…” Hawks stared at the place where Jin’s hand was supposed to be with melancholy, but thought it was probably a bad idea in the first place. Then suddenly, Jin noticed and grabbed his hand. He made it seem so simple. Touching other people, being close to other people. Then the rain started, and the two of them were on the bench and Jin freaked out. He raised his hands up in the air, and played nice guy to calm Jin down. “Hey, hey, I don’t really mind.” “You should mind! You should care a little bit. You’re so careless.” Oh no, Jin was agreeing with himself for once. Hawks wondered what he had done. He could read the emotions on his face, but he didn’t really get what other people felt. He just knew he probably felt less than them, he was lighter, more hollow. “Oh come on, I care as much as the next guy.” That was a lie. He lied without showing anything. 

Hawks fidgeted. Sitting still was, hard, difficult. And Jin looked at him so intensely, in a way he wasn’t used to being looked at. He hated being scrutinized, was Jin suspicious? No maybe he just hated being seen. “You don’t care about yourself at all!” “What? We’re talking about me? Don’t I talk about myself enough? I’m a little bit self-obsessed. You know, pretty bird, pretty bird.” Hawks cooed. “You looked so upset! So I tried taking you out to cheer you up, but then I screwed it up and it started raining, and you don’t even care at all.” 

“Ah, I was sad?” Hawks head tilted, as if he might comprehend better by looking at Jin from a slightly different angle. “Hey, hey, no reason to be upset. Nothing bad is going to happen.” Lots of bad things are going to happen very soon. Hawks wing moved. Even though he was sure he did not give it the command. His wing moved on his own, it stretched into the sky and curled around Twice serving as an umbrella. His feathers stretched as far apart from each other as possible. He did not want a single drop of rain to touch Twice. He wanted Twice to stop shivering with the chill of rain.

How many people had he saved? Countless. Thousands, probably. He did it without thinking. He had complete confidence in himself. Then, why was he so afraid that he might not be able to save this one person. That he could do nothing to protect him from the coming storm. The people he saved were always faceless. To be honest, he was afraid of looking them in the eye. Even when they thanked him, he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t do anything special. He had never wanted to save one person so much. And he might not. He might let him fall. Twice’s words are gravity. They drag him back from where Hawks is always floating. “You’re not understanding me. It’s my fault.” “No, you’re not, it’s fine.” “Stop saying it’s fine. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Dabi’s going to light your pants on fire, then you’ll just be standing there without any pants and everyone will laugh. Liar, stupid, I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

Twice suddenly grabs his head. A piercing headache. A splitting headache. Hawks does not know what to do so he simply floats there, his hands just hanging there in the air unable to grab anything. 

“This is getting in the way.” Twice grabbed at his mask. He clawed it for a moment. It’s like he’s trying to scratch the skin off of his face. Hawks felt an immediate sense of danger. Fearful. Twice is broken. He broke into jagged edges. Glass that can cut and sink deep into you. He pulled his mask off slowly. 

“Hey, you should put that back on.” Hawks said, genuine concern creeping into his voice. He realized, he didn’t care about blowing the mission, he didn’t care about the hoops he’d have to jump through to explain being seen with league of villains Twice in public. He just doesn’t want to see Twice break in two pieces in front of him. 

“It’s fine, I won’t break apart if you’re here.” But I’m not here. “Hawks, I want to meet you…” “But, I’m right here?” “I know. What I mean is. I just want to meet you.” 

The mask was getting in the way. Of what? Hawks perched on the bench, his knees drawn up to his chest, huddling like a child. He made himself look as small as possible. A nesting instinct. He wanted to be cozy. He wanted to be comfortable. To feel like he belonged somewhere. Jin, sitting on the other side of the bench. Hawks’ wings outstretched, the two of them udnerneath the same unmbrella. Jin’s hair, bleached white by stress. A large scar running down the center of his forehead. A perpetual five o clock shadow. A latex suit that covered his whole body, and the muscles which bulged underneath. He could see the way they shifted  as his body moved and studied it in close detail. There was something about the way he was shaped that made him look comfortable to lean against. His toes tap awkward on the ground, because Twice is as bad at sitting still as Hawks is. The rain was so loud, and even louder is Jin’s breathing, and his heartbeat, and Hawks’ senses were finely tuned to both. Jin’s shoulders were broad. Hawks’ were concave and narrow. They were going to break. It was heavy, too heavy. Heavy like gravity. He noticed finally that Jin was drifting towards him. Jin was falling. Hawks has to look at him directly, what good is the terrifying draw of gravity unless you know what you’re facing. Jin’s lips get closer, and Hawks’ imagines what it would be like to be tickled by the unshaven scruff on Jin’s chin. There are so many details that make up Jin, and Hawks’ is just not there, he is not present, he is observing the scene from behind a pair of eyes but he can’t be there with Jin. He can never be there with anyone. 

“You wouldn’t like me,” He finally murmured. Hawks said, trying to get what’s happening to stop. “How come?” “Because I’ve met him. I don’t like him.” “I used to not like me either, but even when you don’t like yourself there are people that will like you.” Jin probably didn’t like him. Jin is just a person who would be kind to anybody. All Hawks needed to do was look a little pathetic and Jin pitied him. That was all this was. He was nothing special to Jin. He was nobody special. He had been told that enough times. If he died, if he fell out of the sky what would happen? The hero rankings would shift a little bit and that would be all. There were plenty of people that used him but no one really needed him. Jin gets closer and his lips pull back. Hawks’ contemplated what it would be like to be struck by lightning. A hot stinging pain, every single muscle in your body tenses, and locks. A whiteness you see behind your eyeballs. You spend an  eternal moment trapped, your brain sending signals but your body not listening to them, you tingle because your brain can’t comprehend the intensity of what you’re feeling. 

Is it painful? That’s not it, it’s a sensation that’s impossible to describe. Then you wake up after it’s done, and there’s a scar left in your skin. The point of contact between his land twice’s  lips felt like they were burning as Twice pulled away, or maybe that was just his imagination. The acrid smell surrounded him. His nostrils wee full of ozone. His brain was full of fear. The entire sky is contained in Jin’s eyes for that brief moment. There’s a queasy feeling inside of him, dizzying, and it’s the first time he’s ever felt the joy of vertigo. He doesn’t know where he is or how he feels and it’s unbelievably pleasant. Jin is the entire sky. Jin would never know how much Hawks wanted to throw himself into the arms of that vast emptiness. Hawks’ head is empty. He’s empty. But he’s not. He’s filled with secrets, and lies. When he wants to think about nothing more than Jin and the smell of ozones, a thought broke through. It’s like a crack in the mirror. Hawks immediately rocked back. You lied to him. Jin looks like he did something wrong. Hawks wants to tell him he’s done nothing wrong but that’s not true, he’s a criminal, a murderer. A good kisser, but with blood on his lips. Hawks’ hands flew in the air. “I-I’m just shy. I’m a shy bird.” He pulled the collar of his fur jacket all the way up to just below his nose to conceal the expression on his face. 

Hawks looked at the scar that cut cleanly across Jin’s forehead. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought. Jin who had given him so much, and Hawks would only give him scars in return. His hands, his lips. There would be lines carved on his skin wherever he touched. Hawks’ and Twice the fact that they met was an incredibly unlikely event like a lightning strike, and just like a lightning strike it never should have happened. It was luck, it was bad luck. He would mark him worse than any lightning strike.The places where he had once caressed so sweetly would only burn now. He should have smelled the ozone ahead of time. He should have seen the storm coming. But it’s too late now, and he’s stuck here with Jin, and he’s completely hopeless, and he can’t fly in the middle of a storm the wind will whip at him back and forth and the water will soak him, and chill him down all the way to the bone. Hawks finally gasped for air. Ozone in his lungs he had forgotten to breathe.” “Twice.” “Jin, you can call me Jin. I always call you by your first name.” 

“…What do you think my full name is?” “Hawks Birdman?” Hawks wanted to laugh but he couldn’t. He was someone who could not even smile correctly. “Wait, wait, wait, is that not your real name? Oh shit, oh shit, I’m so dumb. I’m so dumb.” Jin rocked back and forth and Hawks was completely still. He finally looked Hawks in the eye again. “W-we don’t have to kiss ever again if you don’t want to. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” Why was he the one apologizing? Why was Jin apologizing? “It’s really hard to tell what you like and don’t like sometimes. If I got something wrong, I’m sorry because I’m stupid, and I don’t think, but ummm…can I call you by your real name?” “One day…” “When?” “When the storm ends.” Hawks said. Everything he said so far to Jin was a lie, and that might also be a lie. But he didn’t want it to be.

#jinkei #jinkeiminibang #twicehawks #hawkstwice #twice #hawks #jin bubaigawara #takami keigo #bnha #bnha fic #zeldi drabbles tag #theres a ff7 reference in this

[vikingsagine]

My Religion & Your Pagan Ways (Ubbe Ragnarsson x Reader)

Yo whats up goisss? Okay, ew. Never doing that again. But anyways, yeah my heart will always scream Team Ivar but got to give this gentleman his spotlight. Thank the Gods for the actor that plays him, hottie. 

Summary: You are a Christian girl who lives in the world of Anglo-Wessex with a dream of adventure and freedom. That might just happened when you meet one of the many sons of the famous, Ragnar.

Warning: Sexism. 

It was known. You were weak and many people took advantage of that. You were weak because of your lack of voice, lack of skill at anything like cooking or cleaning, weak because you were so...tamed. It was known and most found it right. A woman is weak. 

That is why, when the most feared and legendary folk set foot in the land of Wessex, seeking shelter and protection for allegiance, it was meant to be. You knew, the first you laid eyes on their pagan faces, life was about to take a different turn. Better or for worse? It is yet to be settled.

Night came sooner than expected and you were sitting at the dining table, awaiting your Father and Mother’s company. Afton was still coming back from an emergency council with the other priests, whereas your Mother was sitting across from you, taking timid bites of her meat. 

“Mother there is news I would like to share with you and Father. It is quite important.” You avoided eye contact, fiddling with the cutlery in hand. You wanted to ask permission to leave Wessex and journey to other lands, there was a sense of adventure that stirred in the pits of your stomach. Yes, you were a Christian woman, obedient to their parents but you had dreams. Impossible as they seem, they were vibrant like the colors of a rainbow.

“Please don’t tell me it’s about your problem of seeking adventure.” Mother replied and took a sip of her wine. You felt slightly dispirited and glanced up at the woman, her nose too buried in the reflection of a mirror. “Your Father and I discussed these terms with you. There is no way you are going to leave the walls of Wessex, your position remains here until you marry a high lord or priest.” Just then, Afton walked through the doors, his clothes slightly disheveled and lips too pink. You pushed the noticeable different details away.

“What have I missed?”

“Oh nothing dear, your daughter still has the insane notion of going to ‘explore’. I think it is the fault of those barbarians.” Your Father gave you a hard and stern stare, daring you to dear speak or even explain yourself or hold eye-contact. But, as per usual you lowered your head and gulped.

“I see.” He hummed with a crude expression. You could feel the obvious rage from his ungraceful slurp of wine and chew of meat. “You must get rid of those dreams right away. You know you are destined to be here in Wessex and marry the future pope. It is a stupid idea for you to believe.” He let out an amused laugh, finding your want to leave the burdening walls of your home so absurd and entertainment. 

“Yes Father, I am sorry. I will pray to the Lord and the blessed Mary in hopes to keep my mind pure.” It was a rehearsed answer you repeated ever since you were a child, only changing the lines every so often. He gave you a small smile of forgiveness.

“Good, that is good my dear.” You bit back the burning tears and the sour pit of retaliation. But, oh you were ever so good at obedience and continued as if nothing had happened. If all has been forgiven. “You are a woman. You wouldn’t know how to fend for yourself. You are too gentle and soft, a true lady.”

At that moment, something snapped from inside. The barrier of what kept you from retaliating and what kept you submitting to every word thrown at you. A fiery storm that had been bottled up over the years popped and sizzled to every cave of your body. This world was a world you had been trying to fit in for too long, you yearned for freedom and choice. Strength. Your fate was set and you’d prove to your Father that because you are a woman, does not mean you are weak. It was time to be bold. You stood abruptly from the table and excused yourself, hiding the raging emotions. 

If it’s freedom and strength you seek, you know where the answer lies.

You swung back and forth, jabbing the tree with your supposed ‘weapon’, a stick. It wasn’t ideal but you had to start somewhere and even so, it wasn’t as easy as you’d thought it to be. A, this is the most physical activity you had ever committed, there was no reason for you before. B, it was scary being alone in the forest yards away from town, anyone could kill you and no one would hear.

“What are you doing?” Ubbe stood, arms folded in front and wore an amused smirk. You jumped at the sound and stumbled over a few branches, only to land on the ground with a thud. Seriously? This earned a low chuckle from the viking who made no move to help.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Heat flew to your cheeks as you stood up and dusted the leaves off your dress. “If you hurt me, m-my Father will-”

“Your Father will kill me?” He took a step closer to you and instinctively you backed away. This man was staunch and stood over your frame like a tower even if you were on the chubbier side of most women. His aroma seeped with power and it made you shrink inwardly. “Not to break your bubble princess, but you are miles away from town, in the middle of a dense forest, alone with me. No one would even hear your screams.” His form was close, you could feel him burn holes into your skull. This made you let out a scream and drop to the ground, eyes screwed shut and hands up as a way of defense.

“Please, please don’t hurt me.” 

“You Christian women are truly unbelievable.” You heard the crunch of his footsteps back away and watched as he left. “Worse then the men, weak.” He muttered, barely audible but you heard. Heard as clear as day. Without thinking you picked up the stick you were using moments before and struck the viking. Immediately regret filled your body. Ubbe froze in his tracks, not knowing whether to laugh or to be angry.

“I-I-” Say it, tell him you’re not weak.”I-I, I’m sorry.” The voice inside hurled, you were disappointed but you were afraid. It wasn’t like you wanted to hit him but it just happened. Something took over you like wildfire, something you never felt before. He marched up to your being, gripped the stick and threw it behind him with one swift movement. Your words were caught in your mouth as he held you firmly against the tree, body pressed into yours like glue. You tried to scream but he held his hand over your mouth. 

“Be quiet.” With a nod of his head, you followed his analytical gaze and saw four men. Strangers. Enemies. Vikings. You thrashed around in an attempt to run away but Ubbe squashed you against the tree. Not only was it completely violating your space but it made it worse because of the situation you were in. “Stop moving.” He barked with a firm tone, you obliged. “Stay here and don’t move.”

You watched as he crept onto the four men, head low and body slumped against the tree. Fear shook your body, so unaccustomed to violence or any dangerous situation. It was the first time you felt adrenaline and a rush of pumping blood. Ubbe weaved behind trees, a sword in his hand and then he spoke. Words you couldn’t understand but obviously the exchange wasn’t exactly good because the next they swung their swords and attacked each other. You watched in awe, how easily though rugged and rough, the Viking swung from man to man, killing left and right. The sight wasn’t pleasing however, it was beautiful to watch Ubbe so fluently whip the metal weapon like a pure sight of passionate art. 

“Ahh, please, please, ahh.” Someone grabbed you from behind, hands rough and smells intoxicating in the worst way. He smelled of old rotting flesh, alcohol and musk. A knife was held against your neck. “Please, please, please..” You started to cry and shake, there was no doubt that this man had no mercy. He yelled something which earned Ubbe’s attention, finishing the last man with a brutal blow. His chest heaved up and licked his lips, assessing your dire situation. Before another word came out of your captive’s mouth, his face was pierced by a sword and he was instantly dead. “Oh heavenly Father, please forgive me. Please, please. Oh my.” 

“You okay?” Ubbe questioned, eyeing your form for any injuries of some sort but there were only blood stains. Small but still real. You gave him a slow nod and held the cross necklace around your neck. “Good, we have to go back to Wessex.” He pulled a barely living man from the ground and dragged him along. 

~~~

After your unfortunate incident with Ubbe Ragnarsson and the random enemies of some other Vikings, it gave you a clear sight of how you would gain strength. Not only did that scary experience open your eyes to what you had to do but it also made you realize how you lacked a backbone. You are helpless and you are weak. And that had to change. 

“You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.” Repeating like a chant, you approached Ubbe Ragnarsson. He was once again fighting with the blonde woman, both intensely swinging their metallic arms and wore daring smiles. You couldn’t help but wonder if the two were an item. They did seem perfect for one another. There was a part of you that was envious of the viking women, they were brave and free. Though still looked down upon, they stood firm against all odds and beside their men. Soon enough they both finished, speaking in their native tongue until the woman left to another destination with two children.

“What is it you want princess?” Ubbe spoke, back still turned to you. You blushed slightly, he knew you were watching. 

“I-I, I haven’t thanked you for saving my life.” You stepped from the wall, standing a fair distance away from the viking. You noticed the subtle outline of his muscular back from behind his shirt. Even his backside made your heart thump. “So, thank you.”

“You’ve said what you must, you can go.” He turned around to finally face you. It was no surprise to you to see sweat dripping from his forehead and soaked the front of his shirt. Sticking to his prominent chest that puffed and heaved. He noticed your lingering gaze and chuckled. “Unless the Christian girl wants something else.” He leaned back on the bench which held many different weapons. Some you’ve never seen before.

“Yes, I do.” You took in a deep breath and finally peered into the vikings eyes for the first time. Oh, how you regret it. It was like falling into a  void of freckled specs of white in the endless pit of the purest blue. So light and so delicate. But hard as stone. “I-I-I, want you to, to, to um, to, there’s, well.” You pulled yourself back into reality and cleared your throat. “I want you to teach me how to fight, please.” Ubbe threw his head back in laughter, his voice bouncing with the sweetest sound of bitter muse. 

“It has been a long time since I’ve laughed like that.” He turned back around to his prior doings wearing a large smile. You didn’t expect any less of his reaction, it made you huff. “And here I thought you had a stick lodged up your ass.” You scoffed.

“I do not have a-ugh. Please teach me.” You followed his form as he walked around the wooden bench, ignorant to your voice. He was being nothing then rude. “I can pay you, gold and silver.” It still didn’t earn his attention, not even by the slightest. “My Father, he is one of the council members to the King, he has a lot of money. I will do anything for you to teach me.” Whatever you said, earned a reaction. He turned around abruptly and entered your personal space, blue eyes wandering over your face. 

“You are a priest's daughter?” You took a step back, he followed. You didn’t know whether it was a heathen thing to barge in each other’s personal space or whether or not it was just him. You placed your hands in front of yourself, keeping enough distance.

“Y-yes, I am.” He stood there giving you the most curious and intense stare anyone has ever given you. Especially a man. Not many men even glanced your way because of the reputation your Father held, daring not to touch a hair on your body. It was strange and uncomfortable to have the undying attention of a man. 

“You know a lot about your God.” The statement came out as more of a question and you gave him a slow nod. “Good. I accept the conditions of you teaching me your Christian ways.” As soon as he pulled his being away, you could feel the cold bound around your body. You were stunned. Why would a barbarian want to learn about God or Jesus Christ?

“Why?”

“It is none of your business. Did I ask why you want to learn to fight? No.” He was undeniably right. Instead you grabbed his hand and shook it, Ubbe gave you a skeptical look. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sealing the deal. Now you are bound to me.” He raised his eyebrows at your answer. “I mean, not bound ‘bound’ to me. Just, bound to me to not take your word back.” You let his hand go and flushed the color of pink.

“You mean, a promise?” He reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Sealing the deal. But instead all you could feel was the flutter of your heart and the chatter of your knees. His touch was warm, rough from tough skin but still so tender. You retracted your hand and cleared your throat. “We will train in the forest, where we first met, early in the morning and later in the afternoon. Be there.” 

“Right, oh and no one can-”

“Don’t worry princess, your secret is safe with me.” He gave you wink, then packed the last of his weapons and left. You turned on your heel and headed home. Not only were you enormously happy but you felt accomplished.

#vikings #ubbe #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe x you #x reader #vikings show #fluff #ubbe ragnarsson #jordan patrick smith

[undercoverwizardninjaturtle]

A ROTTMNT Fanfiction: The Lucky One Chapter 1

Word Count: 4137

Summary: Leo has never considered himself to be unlucky, but when meets a young rabbit samurai wielding a bokken he wonders if luck is all its cracked up to be

Pairings: Whats zero times zero? MORE ZERO

[1]“Are you Miyamoto Usagi?”

 Those were the first words Katsuichi had ever said to him. At the time he had been a small child just shy of five years and half drowned by a rain storm determined to finish him off. The tree he had found refuge under was barely doing its job of keeping him somewhat dry. The storm had drove him to seek out shelter after a puddle, one that had failed to drown him had taken his sandal as collateral.

 Truth be told a wiser person wold of turned back, even a stupider person would of decided to go back. But there was nothing left for him back in the village. Except for his fathers grave and the pitying eyes of well meaning villagers.

Truth be told, any one fo them would of taken him in and he was sure he’d have a happy life with them.

 But to be thought of as a burden, even as young as he was, was unbearable.  

 That was the reason he didn’t answer immediately. He thought maybe one of the villagers had sent the man after him, but at the moment he was too tired to lie. All he could do was nod before pulling his knees under his chin o help preserve some warmth

 “There’s a lot of people worried about you little one.”

 “I’m not going back.” Usagi had been sure of that just as he had been sure he’d never have a say in the matter. His numb body and spirit had nothing left in him.

 There was a shuffling coming from the samurai in front of him,  but rather then drag him away by his ears, the samurai settled by his side ,sitting with his back to the tree. Curiosity got the better of Usagi and he finally glanced to the stranger.

 He had seen samurai before, his father had been one, but none like this. A tall lion with long red hair and matching beard that barely gives room for his eyes and mouth, wearing a for black silk kimono and a dark blue happi. Both were finer then any clothing he had ever seen but well cared for.

For a moment the two sat in silence, with nothing but the rain to fill the silence. Then the samurai spoke “I am sorry about your father. When I received word of his passing,, I cam as quick as I could.”

 At the time Usagi could only look at the lion samurai in confusion, he was sure he hand known all his fathers friends, “how did you know him?”

 “I  knew him from many years ago, . I made a promise that if anything happened to him I would look after you.”

 “I don’t want another father. I liked the one I had.”

 “As you should. You are a faithful son. You will be my student. Nothing more nothing less.”

 Usagi looked down to the ground. The rain had continued its onslaught since the samurai had joined him, and at this point it almost seemed like the world was drowning.

 What chance did he have other wise?

What choice did he have?

 Taking his silence as a answer ,the samurai  rose to his feet and Usagi with him. If he had known how far they’d be walking, he would of gone back for his sandal. But he kept silent. Through years of training, of living in isolation, and everything he kept silent.

 He would never allow himself to become a burden  

                                                                                 (#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Ten years later

  “Alright, you two, what are the rules?”

 Leo rolled his eyes, “I don’t know, ask Don he was listening.” He could hear Hueso grinding his teeth together but couldn’t be bothered to look up from Miscord, “Right D?” His brother was now giving him the same unamused look but he made sure to give him a smile before looking back to his phone, “Right?”

 “Yeah.”Don looked back to Hueso,” The rules are: Don’t’ leave Hueso’s side, don’t annoy Hueso, don’t’ say anything to anyone but Hueso. And don’t let Leo talk to anyone even Hueso.”

 That brought him back, “What?! Hey!” Leo glared at the skeleton, “I don’t remember that one.”

 “You didn’t remember any of them that’s the point.” Hueso jabbed a finer in his face,’ You didn’t even remember your portal sword. That I told you explicitly to bring”

  Leo puffed up his cheeks before crossing his arms, trying to ignore Donnie smirking at him , “Look I just wont talk to anyone.” He clearly lied, Ok, so he had left his sword implanted in Dad’s armchair, it wasn’t’ because  it was huge, bulky and tired of carrying it around (who could be sick of carrying around a giant portal sword that was almost bigger then most of his friends)but for other reasons that he didn’t have to justify to anyone, “I didn’t know we’d be going to the Mystic City! You’re the ones who supposed to have those toppings! I figured the most dangerous thing we’d be doing is

 “It is not my fault my restaurant ran out of those toppings hours ago and the only way to get more is front the market. And almost every time you go anywhere in the Mystic City you end up being chased by a mob.”

 “I thought Karlos picked up your groceries from the Market?” Donnie asked from disinterest, “and wait on tables, and deliver food.”

 “I need to get that kid a raise.” Hueso said to himself, “And apparently he’s got a weird form of rabies and tetanus  so he’s taking some time off. That is why if you REALLY want those toppings wer can only get them here, in the Mystic City Farmers Market. Now I will ask you two this ONCE. Is this all worth the hassle?”

 Leo glanced at his brother, and this time Donnie actually made eye contact, albeit nervous eye contact , with him. Making a quick agreement  as Don held his phone up higher and switching over to Raph’s number. Leo ducked in closer to be in the video lens. “Um, Mabye its better to show you?” Don gave him clear ‘the hell are you thinking?!’ Look before rolling his eyes back at him and pulling up his phone and pressing on Raph’s number, their brothers phone only rang for a moment before Raph’s desperate face filled the screen, “Don thank god where are you?! Do you have the toppings!? Are you outside!? Are you coming in!? Are you calling to tell me you’re in the kitchen and you’re about the bring it out?!”

‘Heeeyyy buddy.”  Leo squished his face by Don’s so he could be in frame, “Just want to check in on you, hows our sick wittle brover?”

 Raph’s face, which had been young and full of hope a week earlier fell further (Leo noted a plate going flying behind his head, “just checking in?!” Are you crazy?! Do you know what happens when I turn my back on Mikey-“ Raph gave a shriek and dropped the phone, in the background Leo could hear him yelling,” JUST PLAY DEAD POPS! MIKEY PUT THE FRIDGE DOWN!”  It took several seconds before Raph came back into view, judging by the wood behind Leo guessed he had crawled under a table, “Listen to me right NOW. Mikey’s already taken Dad hostage and is dominating the living room. He’s trying to conquer the kitchen next and I don’t know how much longer I can hold him off! My barricade isn’t  going to hold off forever!”

 “Michelangelo is about as intimidating as a wet kitten,” Hueso paused, “Wait, he threw the fridge-“

 Raph gave another shriek before he disappeared from sight followed by a dead tone.  Don put his phone away, “That’s why we need the toppings. Mikey has had a stomach flu all week and hasn’t been able to eat anything other then gluten free dry granola bars. If we don’t give him what he wants, he’s probably going to end up a orphan and a only child.”

  Hueso pinched his brow taking a few steps away cursing in Spanish. Leo could only catch a few snippets, of what he was saying but he was pretty sure Hueso was cursing him out. He couldn’t help but sigh and drop his head on Don’s shoulder watching the Yokai passing by with disinterest. He had heard Hueso mention the Mystic City Farmers Market a few times, normally with scorn and a complaint about “the price of Basilisk Cheese” or something. Hueso finally straightedges, out brushed his hands down the front of his suit and turned to look at them with a deep breath,”alright, but again follow my rules, don’t annoy me and we’ll be out before blood worm hour in the Pizza Restaurant.”

 Leo wasn’t sure he wanted to know what ‘blood worm’ hour was all about. But Hueso  was already walking into the crowd, (“don’t wander off!” Hueso yelled)  He gave his brother a shove on his battle shell to keep in him front , “Hey D?” He started, “I know I already asked you this, but are you going to be ok? If you can handle this I’ll just go with Hueso alone.”

“I’m not letting you go alone,I just.” Don took a deep meditative breath pressing his palms together, “We could of avoided this whole thing if we had just left the Lair on time.”

 “I know, I’m sorry.” He could admit fault sometimes. He just did always like doing it, “We’ll do this as quick as possible. In, out, and I’ll make it up to you I promise. I’ll buy you...” Leo though for a moment, bribery really was the best wa to deal with a stressed Don, “Three Jupiter Jim comics of your choosing.”

 Don gave him a long look, and for a sec Leo though this brother was too off with him to take his offer but Don sighed, ‘It’s fine I have my noise cancelling headphones, now immune to mystic energy, and three back ups. Plus my special noise canceling bandana Dad made me so I’m fine. Let’s just go.’”

 “Great! That’s my man!” Leo did a half skip sideways through the portal for the usual flash of blue before he ended  up on th either side a second later in a crowd of Yokai with Donnie by his side a a second later. Thankfully it wasn’t crowded as he was used to, but like any other time he had gone to the Underground city it was  the sheer number of different Yokai caught him off guard. None of them gave a glance to the two turtles that appeared out of no where. Leo made sure to check on his brother for a moment, “Ready D? Are you ok for splitting up? Who can ever find the creeepy toppings first owes the other five comics!” Rather then wait for Don to verify (or rightly accuse him of trying to weasel out of paying his comics) Leo ducked off.

 The last few times he had been here he didn’t really have the chance to look around stalls too closely. Now he could see that most of them held strange trinkets, like necklaces made necklaces out  of eyeballs and  flasks containing different swirling colors. And a crap ton of weapons that made him feel like he was in a ‘shop’ in a video game store.

 There was a bump on his shoulder and for a moment his vision was filled with starkingly white fur, “Sumimasen,”said the slightly shorter figure before moving past. Leo barely gave it another thought until something white  hanging of its head pricked him in the eyes, “ow!” Leo rubbed his eyes before half glaring at the person who passed him, “Long ass ears. “ he cursed lightly, was that a rabbit? He glanced for a moment. Yup a bright white rabbit who was already giving him no second thought.

 “Looking for something Kappa?”

 Leo drew his attention  to the vendor he had been getting ready to talk to, who somehow had more mouths then head, “Yeah buddy  my bone man, me and my bro are looking for some like weird worms with eyes that normally goes on pizza? You seen anyone who sells it?”

 The Vendor twisted its mouths for a moment, “Uh, not sure what a pizza is.”

 He narrowed his eyes, “You have a infinite amount of mouths and NONE of them have eaten pizza? You lead a. A sad life “ Don gave a half nod of agreement before going back to his wrist tablet. There was a yank on his mask and he found himself Stumbling back into Hueso’s face, “Why am I not surprised you ignored everything I said?”

 “Because its my charm?”Leo said with a big smile. Hueso opened his mouth, probably to tell him off or to threaten to drag him before something behind Leo caught his eye, “oh boy.” He said with the same tone he’d use whenever Leo enter the pizza joint. Leo turned around, glancing around trying to find the source of his concern. There was a Pirate Puppy Yokai, a Cat Cavalier Yokai, that white rabbit looking at a booth, and a yokai that was just a eyeball wearing a fedora. He was about to ask who Hueso was talking about but his eyes were fixated on the rabbit, “You mean Bugs Bunny over there?”

 “Karlos mentioned seeing a white rabbit the last few times he came here. He’s always here by himself which is not a good idea.”

 “Why not? We’re here by ourselves, and we’re fine. And you just said Karlos comes here alone.”

 “Its is not the same, you’re here with me. Trust me if you were alone you would of already had your shell stolen. And Karlos only comes down here on days I designate. As I said its not always safe here-“

 “What are you looking at boy!?” A loud voice shouted over the already loud crowd.

 The rabbit jumped nearly a foot in the air (literally and figuratively) not a that Leo could blame him, the yelling Yokai was some sort of Cyclops Octopus Yokai with fat arms and giant bat ears and looked as though he was the owner of the booth the rabbit had been standing at, “You’ve been here five times in the past two days, are you going to buy something or what?!”

“I-I-I um” the rabbit stuttered out before his arms magnetized to his side and he bowed in a Almost robotic manner,” I’m sorry please forgive me. I didn’t mean to cause you problems-“

“You’re causing me problems by taking up space!” The yokai suddenly grabbed the rabbit by the front of his shirt and yanked him close to his  face in a way Leo could tell he was very uncomfortable with, “Are you trying to steal from me boy!?It’d be the last thing you ever-“

 “OI.” Hueso shouted, finally shoving past a Yokai made of Play-do, “Berbi quit acting like a thug.”

 The Yokai, apparently Berbi, swung to look at him, “I know a thief when I see once Hueso. I’m not  a idiot.”

 “You have glaucoma Berbi, you think everyone is a thief.  Now go eat a candy bar and quit scaring off your real costumers.”

 Berbi glared hard Hueso with snarling broken teeth, but after a moment he flinch and  looked away with a snarl shoving the rabbit away  stomping back behind the curtain behind his booth. When Hueso started walking Leo followed him on autopilot. He was used to seeing Hueso dealing gang members and Big Mama he had almost forgot Hueso was capable of as much intimidation as anyone. Now that they were closer, he could see the the rabbit was his age, if a bit shorter. Wearing a short blue untucked kimono with a white obi and black pants (they were called hakamas right) and some sort of samurai sandals his ears tied back in a pony tail his fur was so fluffy that some of it stuck out on his scalp,  his bright pink eyes looking to them in concern as though he wasn’t sure what to do or expect from them. Instead he did as he did before and bowed, “Thank you, I’m sorry for causing you trouble as well.”He said with a soft Japanese accent

 “Do not thank me, are you here alone? Where are your parents?”

 The rabbit looked at him in surprise,”I-I’m not, I don’t-“ he looked away for a moment as though in shame

“If you don’t’ have parents, then I’ll take you to one of the shelters nearby.”

 “I’m-“ the rabbit froze, “I have a home. I’m just not there.”

 Hueso looked him hard,  causing the rabbit to avert his eyes. Leo could just remember that it was supposedly a sign of respect. Right? Atleast according to the Samurai Sam movies he had watched (not nearly as good as Jupiter Jim or Lou Jitsu but still enjoyable). He took a moment to glance around, don was no where in sight, hopefully finding the toppings they needed. They had a good enough signal  that Don would text him if he needed him-“

“Fine, go home boy. Before someone less pleasant then Berbi decides you’re a thief. You’re drawing too much attention to yourself and here that is dangers out. So go home rabbit,  go back to your family And I better not find you here again.” Hueso turned on his step and walked away. Leo turned after him, looking over his shoulder at the rabbit who was still staring at his feet, but the pain coming off him was enough even for him to notice, “dude, bone man wasn’t that a little mean?”

“No. Not mean. Just harsh. This isn’t a safe place for children to be hanging gout alone. Some yokai who come from neighboring villages like to make a bet out of coming here and seeing what they can get away with, I doubt he’s one of them but he needs to go where he belongs where he can be safe. IF my son were in this situation i would want someone to give him the same advice.’

Sometimes Leo forgot that Hueso was a dad, he had never actually met HUeso’s son, but in the few times he spoke of him and judging by the photo on the wall he loved his son dearly. Which was in no way a bad thing. But He looked back over his shoulder at the rabbit again. His whole body slumped as he turned and disappeared around the corner.

 He wasn’t sure what drove him to do it, but Leo stopped long enough to duck behind a large platypus yokai. Hopping Hueso wouldn’t notice his disappearance for too long. He glanced at his phone, Donnie had sent him a picture of some Creepy Toppings, atleast he had found some. They’d be gone in a few minutes but he didn’t’ want to leave yet.

  Leo ducked the way he had seen the rabbit go, with such a thick crowd he could only guess that the rabbit had ducked between two small buildings. The rabbit was ducked in the buildings shadow, leaning his forehead against the wall with a shadow cast over his face. Leo couldn’t tell if he was frowning or what, and a wiser person might of decided to leave it  be

 and yet

 Leo waved “Hey! Bunny man!” grinning as the rabbit once again metaphorically and physically jumped a foot in the air, looking as though his fur was on end, looking at him as though he was a car insurance salesman and not a overly cheerful rabbit, “what do you want?!” the rabbit asked not rudely, “I’m leaving just please leave me alone-“

 “Don’t let Bone man bother you, he’s a sweetheart. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

 The rabbit blinked at him, momentarily stunned “Y-yes I’m fine thank you for your concern but I must go .”

 “Oh come on don’t let Hueso scare you off, why don’t you come hang out with me and my bro-“his words were cut off by a sudden shove on his shell sent him hard  to the ground, his beak cracking against the ground and filing his mouth without blood, he went to raise his head again when something pressed hard on the back of his skull pressing his face hard on the ground

 “I knew you stole something! I knew it! you and this fish kid are working together!”  Leo couldn’t help but groan loudly at Berbi’s voice, “ Aw you again?! Go take a vitamin man-“ before his mouth was full of ground again

 “I- I haven’t stolen anything!” the rabbit said ,” Please don’t hurt him-“

 “Empty your pockets!”

 Oh boy, Leo was starting to see why Hueso didn’t want him or Don  coming here alone.From the lid of his eye he could barely see the rabbit feel around ,”All-all I have is a onigiri and some water-“

 “Then give me that thing you have at your waist!”

 The rabbit hesitated, before reaching for his obi, because Leo had seen far too many samurai movies he had expected the rabbit to pull out a magic katana or a sword bigger then his, but instead he slid out a polished wooden sword, bowing and holding it out, “just please stop hurting him and you can have it.”

 There was a pause, judging by the way the foot shifted on his  head he could guess Berbi was trying to get a better close at it before the Yokai burst out laughing,” That’s all?! a stick?!You run around all day with a stick playing samurai?! God” he snorted, “you’re just a nobody aren’t you?” his face leaned close to the rabbit who kept his gaze to the ground. a meaty fist grabbed him by ear and yanked hard, forcing his gaze up to his, “ I bet you wouldn’t last five seconds in then Nexus-“

 The pressure was finally off his head enough that Leo rolled away, “Go eat a damn vitamin you bitch!” Leo swung his leg out and kicked Berbi hard on the side of the knee causing the large yokai to shout out in pain and stumble away, releasing the rabbit, Berbi grabbed his leg and glared at him, the rabbit suddenly grabbed him by hand, yanking him to his feet “Come on!” dashing down the opposite side badly giving Leo enough time to get on his feet. Berbi was already back on his feet, yanking out what looked like brass knuckles out from his pocket ,” You’re a bitch!” Leo yelled

 Despite running the rabbit looked back on him with a surprised look, “I am not a bitch! My name is Usagi!”

 “No not you, him!” Leo blinked, ignoring the Yokai yelling and running after them, “wait you’re a rabbit named Usagi? Did your parents hate you?!”

 Usagi’s eyes widen,” WhA- no my parents hate-“ before nearly running smack dab into a wall. Leo, being closest to the turn, took the lead dragging Usagi after him before realizing they were at a dead end barely a second later Berbi slammed into the wall after them. He barely had time to shoulder Usagi behind him, “ You two are DEAD,-“ Berbi shouted, “I was going to sell you two to the Battle Nexus. but i think i’d rather keep you and beat some manners into you-“

 “Would you stop talking like a anime villain for five seconds?!” Leo asked ,” Seriously you’re boring me!”  he managed to get his phone. Don had sent him a few messages asking him where he was. He had no doubt that Donnie was already tracking his location. So he  and Hueso would be here soon. Not soon enough though his head was hurting so bad he hadn’t noticed that Berbi was in face until his hand closed around his head before a shout came from behind him

 “Leave him alone!”

 Before Leo could acknowledge what was going on, Usagi had charged forward slamming his wooden sword hard into Berbis stomach sending the Yokai hard into the wall. Any relief that Leo might of ,could of, felt disappeared when the building next to them began to tremble, larger cracks forming, “ah BEANS.” He had fallen of buildings plenty of times but he wasn’t sure he could survive one falling on him-

 Suddenly a familiar blue lights formed behind him. Before he could turn and fully give a reaction, Usagi’s arm hooked around his neck and drug him back, filling Leo’s vision and world with familiar ring of a portal ring he himself had built many times

 Not for the first time that day, he really wished that he had brought his portal sword

a/n

thats right! as a huge Usagi fan it was inevitable that I would write a Usagi fic.  design and certain aspects  for Usagi was inspired by the great and powerful @lesbianleonardo

[1]

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #fanfiction #usagi #miyamoto usagi #usagi yojimbo #leo #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #tmnt 2k18 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #tmnt fanfiction

[freckledmountain]

But I can try for your heart

By @freckledmountain for @kirbywritesstuff

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences 

Relationships:  Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man)

Summary:  

“Tony becomes Peter´s guardian.

It doesn´t go as badly as Tony thought it would.”

Anthony Edward Stark´s life had looked at words like normal, nice, easy and said “how about no”.

For as long as he could remember, there´d always been something. Terrorists, kidnappers, giant worm alien things, gods, life seemed to throw in anything and everything in it, and he was left reeling every time. Domestic life? Heck if he knew her.

…and then existence did a 180 again, and gave him the one thing he´d thought he´d never have.

Someone to take care of.

He´d liked the kid, right from the start, but getting attached to him was definitely not an option for him at first. Tony swore Peter literally had cartoony stars in his eyes whenever he looked at him, as if Tony deserved even a tenth of that adoration.

He didn´t want to be there when the kid realized how much of a failure his idol really was, didn´t want to imagine the inevitable moment that brightness would leave his eyes forever.

But it just showed how he didn´t really know who Peter Parker was back then, or rather, how darn stubborn he could be. A few months later and he was running around rescuing the kid from every possible mishap, desperately trying to keep him safe, ready to do just about anything to make him smile.

He grew on him, scaled the 30 foot long walls around his heart with his endearingly dumb t-shirt puns, his incandescent enthusiasm for technology, his 3 am rants about how fluffy some cat he´d seen was, his willingness to go out there and do his damn best to help anyone who needed it. Because when life threw dirt at Peter he stared back and smiled, and grew kinder for it.

Maybe Tony´s universe wasn´t just some practical joke, waiting to see what would trip him up next. He was terrified of breaking Peter, but after a brief period of trying to drive him away he realized the kid would just keep coming back, worming his way gently but firmly into Tony´s life without even meaning to.

And honestly?  After dozens of frantic calls to Cho as he held an unconscious Peter in his arms, lazy saturday mornings spent laughing his head off as the kid tried to flip pancakes as high as he could (he ended up getting a little too enthusiastic but no one noticed the half cooked pancake stuck to the ceiling for three days anyway so-), he realized all his doubts could go screw themselves, because no matter how badly Tony messed up, that light in Peter´s eyes hadn´t left once.

Peter was just bright, and sweet, and kind and yeah, maybe Iron Man had a soft spot now, but he wouldn´t change it for the world.

Peter was worth every night spent worrying about him, every Star Wars marathon, every “borrowed” hoodie that never quite made it back to his closet, because the kid was good, and every time he smiled he made Tony want to make the world into something good too.

Life was way more nerve-wracking when you cared for a smaller human, but he couldn´t help but think maybe it wasn´t all that bad either. Peter would always be worth it.

 And then on a day like any other May Parker´s heart failed her, and without a single warning, both of them were hurled straight into the impossible.

 Grief was…

blurry.

It made everything around you fade into spots of either red hot pain or complete numbness, and whichever one it was, you couldn´t escape it some days. He would know.

Peter dealt with it a hell of a lot better than Tony himself had done when he was 21, but he could still see himself there, mad and lost and so achingly confused, filled with screaming questions no one could possibly give answers to.

Peter cried. He went out as Spiderman, returning later and later, screaming at Tony when he tried to get him to stay. He didn´t know what to do anymore, didn´t know how to get to him.

May´d loved her nephew above all things. If there was one thing Tony was absolutely certain of in this new swirling world of legal papers and sobs masked with yelling and mixed feelings, it was that from now on, he´d have to do the same.

He´d been sitting in that plastic chair for four hours, barely moving, when someone came barreling in.

He stood up quickly, knowing immediately who it was, trying to make enough sense of the half-finished speech at the tip of his tongue to say it out loud. “May.I´m-“

“Don´t.”

That shut him up.

Firm footsteps resonated on the tiled floor as she came up closer to him. He expected her to scream at him like she´d done all those months before when she´d found out about Spiderman, only now he´d gladly accept any other feeling that wasn´t the crippling guilt currently eating his insides. He´d fucked up, and Peter´d paid the price for it. He deserved every fragment of the storm coming his way.

Instead, May Parker stared at him for a long second, and the next she had her arms around him in a fierce hug.

“Thank you.”

Any coherent thought trying to find its way into his mind promptly disappeared after those two words. May spoke gently, but her stance was firm as she held him.

“You got to him in time. You saved him, and as soon as he gets better we´re going to go in and he´s going to see us and I´ll tell him off and it´s all going to be fine. Okay?”

“I didn´t-“

“You saved him. You did. I saw you running inside that building to get him, on the news. I know together you´ve got a guilt complex the size of Canada but Peter is going to be fine and what he needs right now is people who love him to be close, so we can save the misplaced sorry´s for when my nephew´s out of surgery, yeah?”

She pulled back slightly, and he could see his own fear mirrored in her eyes, but there was trust there too. And love. Love gentle enough to be all-encompassing. And for once, his guilt wasn´t enough to overpower how much he cared for the kid.

He loved Peter too.  

“How-how ‘do you even do this? How do you deal with wanting to protect him from everything, how do you just not- implode or something-?” He was a mess, but May just smiled through misty eyes and hugged him again.

“You learn. Welcome to parenthood with a teenager, where half of you wants to see him succeed and go further than you thought possible and then the other half thinks keeping him cooped up at home with fifty blankets and a gallon of ice cream is the best idea since ever”

Tony managed a short laugh at that. “But something tells me you´ll get the hang of it, Tony. Something tells me you´re going to love him no matter what, and that´s already the most important part done”

Those words came back to him whenever he felt he was doing more harm than good by deciding to adopt Peter.

It was a whole different level of delicate now, and his attempts at being a normal parent didn´t always end well, but Peter´s fierce hugs reminded him a little of someone else´s, and he held on to the hope everything could work itself out as long as they kept trying.

 Time runs strangely.

It can never quite mend the pain completely, but given it´s gentle enough, time can help.

The weird thing though, is how you can’t pinpoint the exact moment feeling okay doesn’t seem foreign to you anymore.

Maybe it starts when he takes the kid to school again and finds the note he packed in his lunch hung in Peter’s room a few days later.

Maybe it’s when he wakes up and realizes Peter slept through the night without a nightmare for the first time in weeks.

Or when he makes a particularly bad pun as he’s helping him with calculus homework and the kid laughs so much the tears running down his face don´t make him feel terrible for once.

…it could possibly be when Peter’s so sleep deprived one night he whispers a gentle “I love you” before drifting off, effectively making Tony blub like a baby once he´s sure the kid´s asleep.

And yes, there’re still bad days with screaming, and there’re still moments where he feels like the least capable human on earth for this job, but he just won’t give up, on either of them.

He vowed to try, didn´t he?  

It´s been 8 months since he took Peter in, and things he´d have never imagined doing are quickly becoming commonplace now. Packing lunches, helping with English essays, occasionally dragging his butt halfway across the city to save his kid from yet another weirdo in a tacky suit, not to toot his own horn, but he thinks he´s definitely getting the hang of it all now.

So it should all be chill when he finds out he´s going to attend the parent-teacher conference at Midtown in a few months, but oh look at that, he’s panicking.

As much as he tried sheltering Peter from it at first, word that Tony Stark had been seen with a teenager soon got round, and within a day every reporter in New York seemed just about ready to trade an arm and a leg for some more dirt on Ironman.

Fun.

Pepper´d dealt with the brunt of it, so it wasn´t as if the world didn´t know about Peter by now, but the thought of waltzing directly into the school when every pair of eyes would be fixed on both of them didn´t exactly make him want to skip in joy, see.

Then again, Peter was the smartest freaking kid in the whole school, and the thought of teasing him lightly in front of his teachers was…yeah, okay, he was pretty sure he could work something out.  

———————————————————————————

It was a beautiful Friday morning, they only had a few more teachers to go, and Tony was so glad he´d rescheduled three work meetings earlier this week to be here, because it was freaking glorious.

Peter was blushing bright red from all the compliments his teacher´s had told him all day. They were only allowed about 10 minutes to talk with each one, lots of kids and all that, but everyone had something positive to say about him.

Most teachers did a pretty good job of not letting a vein pop out of their forehead when they shook hands with Tony, but others seemed to have mini freak outs until they focused on Peter and regained their composure. He wasn´t at all surprised when they showed him Peter´s perfect grades, but God, he was proud.

He knew all the credit in raising Peter to be the wonder he was belonged to May and Ben, but he darn almost melted when Peter beamed at him as Mr. Del showed him a perfect test score in advanced chemistry for an exam he´d helped Peter study for a few months prior. Maybe he actually wasn´t screwing up at this parenting thing.

He knew the teachers were anxious when he asked questions (hey, he had no idea what a parent-teacher conference was like 3 months ago, he did his research), but they softened slightly whenever they turned to look at Peter.

He got it; the kid was pretty hard not to love.

Mr. Del was sitting across from them now, the man visibly nervous at being in front of Tony Stark, but smiling genuinely all the same as he talked about Peter´s work in class.

“There´ve been a few late assignments here and there, but nothing major in terms of academic development. I feel sleeping earlier could be a good idea though” Peter smiled sheepishly, probably remembering all the times Ned´ had to poke him awake in class after patrol got a little too long. Tony made a mental note to check up on it.

“His essay on analytical chemistry in an applicable field was particularly impressive” Mr. Harrington took out a thick cream folder, flipping through it until he came across Peter´s, “I showed it to some of my colleagues and it´s got some real potential. If you give some more thought to it, Peter, this could really make a difference.”

Peter´s ears were positively beetroot by now and he stuttered out a thank you, smiling. Tony felt about three seconds away from exploding with pride, but he just grinned at Peter, knocking their shoulders together gently. This, this right here was nice.

Peter´d worked hard for this, spending uncountable nights staying up late finishing projects or homework, studying for hours before an exam, still muttering formulas sleepily as Tony carried him up to bed.  

He might be Tony Stark´s adopted son (months of it and the word still made his heart go full on Speedy Gonzales when he thought about it, but in a nice way, in the best way), but he had no doubt in his mind Peter´s grades had definitely been earned by him fairly.

And later, when they´re having a celebratory pizza night/movie marathon, when he´s surrounded by a blanket fort and a kid that definitely does not have the right to make him feel as mushy as he does, he thinks back to when something like this seemed impossible, and smiles.

Life´s unexpected, alright.

Somehow, he thinks he loves it this way anyway.

(many virtual hugs to all of you!)

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange​

It´s also on my ao3

#the friendly neighborhood exchange #posting day! #I know this is short but I promised I tried #i hope you like it

[holidaywishes]

I’m Here

  Requested: 👍

  Summary: You and Jamie get into a fight, likely jeopardizing your relationship, and you run to Tyler.

  Author’s Note: This one was fun to write. It was a little new to have angst requested but I do love writing some drama into any imagine so I hope you enjoy! GIF not mine, please don’t @ me.

  Warning: angst, fluff, hard fluff near the end?

  masterlist

  The night started out like any other. Jamie came home from practice, exhausted, and took a long nap before the two of you went out for the date night he kept postponing.

  “Jamie!” you called from the kitchen, seeing if he was awake yet, “we have reservations in an hour”

  “Yeah...” he grunted, “I’m up.” There wasn’t much talking while the two of you got ready and the air was tense and thick; the silence seemed to follow you until you got to the restaurant. You sat across from him as the server filled your glasses with water and asked if you’d had a chance to look at the menu.

  “Not yet” you smiled and glanced over at Jamie, who just nodded in agreement. The server smiled back before walking away and you looked through the menu, contemplating what to say to break the tension.

  “So...” Jamie finally said, “it’s nice to finally get to do this hey?”

  “Definitely! It’s been too long, I’ve missed this. Missed you...” you said gently, trying to gauge his reaction

  “I know babe, I’m sorry...” he replied but didn’t raise his eyes to meet you, making you furrow your brow

  “Is something wrong?” you asked abruptly and he finally looked up at you, confusion plaguing his features, “I mean did I do something?”

  “What? no, of course not,” he said defensively, “why would you think that?”

  “Jamie, baby...” you tilted your head to the side, “you’ve barely looked at me all night or spoken to me. I’m not stupid, I can tell that something’s... off”

  “Let’s not do this right now. I just want to have a nice dinner okay?”

  “So there is something wrong?”

  “(Y/N) just drop it for right now okay?”

  “Is it Katie?” you asked tentatively, noticing his eyes grow wide at the mention of his ex’s name and all you could manage was a nod, “I see...”

  “(Y/N)...”

  “We’ll talk about this later.. maybe.. I can’t look at you right now.” You stood up from the table, navigating your way out to the street to put as much distance as you could between you and Jamie. But it wasn’t long before you felt his hand reach out and grab your shoulder before you could even think to hail a cab

  “Talk to me about it now...” he pleaded

  “No”

  “Please...”

  “I don’t want to talk about this until I’ve had a chance to.. digest it..” You knew exactly how the conversation was going to go. He was still in love with her and she was back in his life and they owed it to each other to give it another chance. But what did that mean for you? The love you had for Jamie would be completely destroyed because of an ex he couldn’t forget. You wanted him to be happy but the idea of not being with him, broke your heart.

  “There’s nothing to digest,” he shouted and you huffed, finally giving up on hailing a cab, “just come home with me. Let’s talk...”

  “Just give me the night to think about it Jamie,” you turned and began walking toward your apartment, “can you just do that?”

  “No, I can’t. Not like this.” You continued storming away from him while he called after you to try to get you stop and talk to him. The pleading in his voice almost made you stop but the hurt was bubbling up in you and you didn’t want to cry in front of him about this. The further you got down the street, the more mumbled his speech became and the more irritated he got with you, making you more irritated with him. So, you stopped.

  “God damn it Jamie! Stop mumbling, you wanna talk? Fine we’ll talk” you yelled

  “Good I--” you raised your index finger to stop him before he went too far

  “No..” you said, “Let m-- Have you started seeing her again?”

  “Not like that,” he admitted, “but I have been.. hanging out with her every once and a while”

  “Without me there?”

  “Yes..”

  “Without Ty or the guys there?”

  “Right..”

  “So.. when you say hanging out, do you mean that you’re fucking her?”

  “Jesus (Y/N), we’re in public”

  “I don’t fucking care Jamie! Answer the question”

  “No, it’s just hanging out. Nothing more”

  “Then why have you been hiding it from me?”

  “Because I.. I didn’t want to hurt you”

  “And lying to me was supposed to not hurt me?”

  “I didn’t lie!”

  “You lied by omission!” he had no rebuttal, “I get it Jamie, you love her. You always have and you probably always will. I can’t stop you from feeling that way but I think I deserve enough common decency for you to tell me the truth”

  “What truth am I supposed to tell you?”

  “All of it! Any of it!”

  “You want me to tell you the truth that my heart was in fucking pieces when Katie and I broke up the first time?” he yelled, veins popping out in his neck, and inched closer to you with each statement, “the truth that meeting you felt like some cosmic joke because you made me feel the way that she did? At least for a second? The truth that after six months of dating you, I knew I’d never love you--” he finally stopped before he could finish his last statement, hearing the gasp escape your lips

  “You never loved me? Not for one minute?”

  “I did love you...”

  “You just weren’t in love with me.. You just felt like making me look like an idiot!”

  “See! This is not what I wanted! I didn’t want to hurt you. You asked me to tell you all of this. To tell you the truth! So I told you, you can’t fucking blame me for this”

  “Tell me one thing that was fucking real about our relationship? That wasn’t you vying for the affection of your ex-girlfriend or trying to make her jealous or trying to force something to be something that it clearly wouldn’t be!”

  “Don’t act all innocent in this...” he said snidely and you felt a new kind of anger course through you that you had never before

  “What the fuck does that mean?!” you asked sternly

  “You know exactly what it means”

  “No no, go on. Tell me. How the fuck am I to blame in the scenario where you never loved me?”

  “You knew how broken I was after Katie and I broke up but you didn’t care,” you dropped your jaw slightly before he continued, “all you wanted was to be able to say that you were dating a professional hockey player, the captain of an NHL team no less, that it didn’t matter what state I or anyone else was in”

  “Fuck you!”

  “You know I’m right!”

  “You think I’m that fucking shallow that I wouldn’t let you grieve your fucking relationship? I didn’t pounce on you as soon as I met you, Jamie, or as soon as you broke up with Katie. I got to know you and gradually fell for you. But hey, if you think I’m such a terrible person who doesn’t care about your feelings then this,” you gestured between the two of you, “was inevitable.”

  “Maybe it was...”

  “You know what, no. I’m a good person. I tried to give you space, I let you talk about her and the relationship, I never pushed you. I waited for you to open up to me. I wasn’t the one who lied or cheated or forced themselves into a relationship”

  “I didn’t force myself into the relationship,” he tried, “and I didn’t cheat! My feelings have always been... complicated... You knew that and you did nothing!”

  “For Fuck Sake Jamie! I didn’t think there was anything to worry about. Had I known that you had ‘complicated’ feelings, I would’ve ended things. To give you peace of mind or whatever..”

  “How gracious of you” he said sarcastically just as it started to rain

  “Stop being such a baby. You didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Gee thanks. But I’ve had it with the lying and the awkward silences and the postponed date nights and the angry outbursts after losses. You don’t want me, you want her? Great. I wish you well, Jamie Benn!” you shouted, raising your hand above your head and turning your back on your now ex-boyfriend who could only muster two words as you walked away

  “Goodbye, (Y/N)...” the softness of his words confused you. After all the yelling and the swearing and the arguing, the kindness that you always associated with Jamie had found its way back to his voice, leaving you with tears streaming down your face.

  You thought you were walking back to your apartment but, with the fight, you had taken a different route and now you were lost, soaking wet as it continued to pour. You took a second to look around and when nothing looked familiar, you sat down on a bench to try and get a little bit of shelter with no luck. When it appeared that the rain wouldn’t be slowing down anytime soon, you knew you had to find some way home but you didn’t see any cars and your phone had run out of battery, so you were more or less stranded.

  “Shit” you thought to yourself, looking down both streets of the intersection you were at trying to place yourself, letting your feet choose the direction instead when you couldn’t. It felt like you had been walking forever but you still had no idea where you were until you saw something vaguely familiar. Somehow, you’d manage to wind up in a gated community but not just any community: Tyler’s. You walked up to the booth and asked if you could call him, to see if he was home and the guard obliged, dialing Tyler’s number while keeping his eye on your shivering frame.

  “Hello?” his voice rang

  “Mr. Seguin, you have a visitor here to see you?” the guard said suspiciously

  “I do? I wasn’t expecting anyone”

  “Can I just talk to him? Just for a second?” you asked the guard, who handed you the phone slowly, “T?”

  “(Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in? It’s pouring outside and I’m freezing!”

  “Of course, hand me back to the guard”

  “You can let her through”

  “Alright then...” the guard replied and you were on your way, your only task now to find which mansion was Tyler’s. You managed to make your way to his front door and knocked timidly a few times before your teeth started chattering; making you knock faster and louder.

  “H-- Oh my god, you’re soaking wet. Come in, come in,” Tyler said sympathetically, “I probably have some extra sweats for you. Let me just grab some, one sec.” While he ran off to find you some dry clothes, you wandered over to his fireplace to warm up, his three labs sniffing and licking your bare, wet legs.

  “Hey guys!” you cooed, leaning down to pet each dog, “it’s been a long time but I guess you remember me huh?” Marshall was the first to kiss your face, followed rather clumsily by Gerry and Cash attached himself to your leg each time you walked around.

  “What softies huh?” Tyler said as he leaned on the wall, “they love you.” Your head shot up and you gave Tyler a look that neither of you were expecting and you could tell he was waiting for you to explain

  “Yeah well...” you sighed, “they might be the only ones...”

  “What are you talking about?” Tyler said as he handed you one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants

  “Jamie... we broke up. He said he never loved me,” you said, “a lot of things were said but he’s still in love with Katie. And that was the gist of it all...”

  “He did love you,” Tyler said, placing one hand on your arm, “trust me...”

  “I just wish I could’ve seen it or stopped it or reacted differently...”

  “It’s probably not as bad as you think”

  “Oh it’s worse.. Ty, you should’ve heard us. Yelling like immature teenagers in alleyways. Cursing at each other every other word. It’s not like me, or him for that matter.” You gestured to the dry clothes as if to ask where you could change and he pointed to the guest room down the hall

  “There’s a bathroom in there, you can just leave your wet clothes in the shower”

  “Thank you,” you said sweetly, continuing to yell to him with the door cracked, thinking he would have no problem hearing you, “I just wish he had loved me the way I loved him, you know? Maybe he’s right though...”

  “What?” Tyler called out as you continued talking, “(Y/N) I can’t hear you...”

  “I mean it’s not like I meant to make him move too fast, I thought he was in a good place when we got together. I mean he seemed like he was in a good place, didn’t he?” your legs were bare but they were soaking wet so you grabbed a towel to pat them dry first before peeling your now-impossibly skin tight dress off your body, hearing it plop onto the tile of the shower, “he’s a good guy and I think I might have drove him a little crazy..” Tyler finally got to where your voice was coming from, just in time to see you pat down your body and slip on his t-shirt and he wasn’t sure what to do exactly, all he knew was that he couldn’t let you know that he saw you

  “Honestly, Chubbs will bounce back. Whatever’s going on with him and Katie has always been complicated... I thought you were good for him.” You opened the door to find Tyler with his back to you and you let out a small smile

  “Hey..” you said to get him to turn around, scaring him a little, “sorry didn’t mean to scare you. Thank you again, for letting me come in and for letting me borrow your clothes”

  “It’s no problem, honest. I’m here for you, whenever you need me...” he said softly and you found yourself captivated by his eyes. You managed to sneak by him and find yourself a spot on the couch, to complain a bit more but to generally try to understand why this had to happen

  “Just hear me out,” you argued, “if he was still in love with Katie, why did he agree to go out on that date with me? Even if it was just supposed to be a rebound date, or a hookup, why didn’t he just do that and then never talk to me again?”

  “Because,” Tyler responded, “the more time he spent with you, the more he liked you. The guys on the team too. It seemed like a waste not to have you in our lives...” He laughed, forcing a smile to play on your lips

  “I’m serious, Ty,” you pushed his shoulder jokingly, “why can’t I ever be the one that the guy chooses? Why can’t the relationships I’m in ever work out?”

  “Maybe this one had to do with the age difference?”

  “Three years?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe you can only manage a two year age gap”

  “Yeah.. somehow I don’t think that’s it.” He shrugged and let you rant for a little longer before you eventually tired yourself out

  “Can I say something?” Tyler asked

  “Of course..” you hesitated

  “I can beat him up for you if you want, if you’re truly heartbroken and wrecked over this whole thing. I can throw him up against the wall -- he’s a little bigger than me but I’ve got rage”

  “You’ve got rage?”

  “A little...” he joked, “but I don’t think it’s necessary”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because you haven’t cried over him,” he pointed out, “in this whole ‘therapy session’ you haven’t shed a single tear over losing Jamie.” You hadn’t realized it but it was true. Losing Jamie hurt, and it pissed you off that it had to end like that, but somewhere deep down, you must have been preparing for it.

  “I guess you’re right,” you said, “that’s so strange. I wonder why that is?” You noticed Tyler shrug and just as you were about to get up, the dogs jumped up on the couch, ultimately pinning you next to Tyler

  “Guess you’re not going anywhere,” he laughed and you turned your head to smile up at him. And there it was again. That glimmer in his eye that you’d never seen before, the one that made it nearly impossible to look away. Him clearing his throat brought you back to reality and you were left contemplating a whole new set of problems while Tyler turned on his T.V., “what do you wanna watch?”

  “You choose” you said, nerves now stinging every part of you.

  What is this supposed to mean? you thought, why can’t I stop staring at him? It’s not like I’ve never noticed his appearance before.. But why now? Does this mean that my feelings for Jamie were all wrong? Or am I reading too much into this? I’m reading too much into this... that’s all it is, of course, that’s all it is. You knew you were just trying to convince yourself of something, to protect yourself from feeling something you didn’t want to feel. Tyler was never going to see you that way and you had figured that out ages ago but, suddenly, being here with him now, like this, was making you think up scenarios. You adjusted yourself and the dogs, so you could sit up straight on the couch; next to Tyler instead of against him.

  “Everything okay?” he asked

  “Yeah.. yeah, I’m good” you replied, keeping your gaze on the screen. You could feel Tyler peeking at you every once in a while, so you starting sneaking stares too, when the two of you caught the other. He didn’t speak, neither did you and it was killing you; you waited for him to break the silence, or the stare, but he didn’t budge, so there you were, drowning in his eyes again.

  “The rain hasn’t slowed down at all from the sounds of it” he finally said and you scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion before finally saying that it was going to be a long night.

  “I’m a little tired. If it’s okay, I think I might just go lie down in the guest room.” He nodded and told you to have a good sleep and you gave a quick goodnight, closing the door behind you and letting out a sigh before crawling under the covers of the queen size bed in front of you. You fell asleep to the sounds of raindrops outside and the light breeze that came through the cracked window. Some time later, in what felt like an instant, Tyler was waking you up from your slumber; it was still raining so it couldn’t have been too much later but the clock read 2 AM.

  “What’s wrong?” you said groggily, rubbing your eyes as you sat up

  “Nothing..” Tyler answered, sitting down beside you, “I just couldn’t let you go without telling you...”

  “Telling me what?” your eyes had grown wide and your heart raced with the silence that covered the room

  “I told Jamie to go out with you, to go on that first date...” his head sunk low, “I thought he needed to get over Katie and you seemed like a good girl to do that with...”

  “I don’t und--”

  “I just didn’t know how great you’d be,” he cut you off, “or how much I’d like being around you. Or how much I’d fall for you..”

  “Tyler...”

  “I just needed to say it, you don’t have to say anything. I’d actually rather you didn’t. I just needed to say it.” You thought about what his words meant for a second, and his request not to say anything, before moving closer to him. You put your finger on the side of his face to turn him to you, staring into his eyes one last time before leaning in and laying a soft kiss to his lips, half expecting him to pull away and say that you didn’t need to or that you shouldn’t but he stayed silent. Tyler leaned into the kiss, placing one hand on the back of your head to intensify it and your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck; you felt him nip at your lip just before he pulled you into his lap, heating up the kiss that much more. His tongue traced along your lips for a minute, begging for entry and you moaned into his mouth, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. The kiss practically melted your whole body and you didn’t want it to end, so you pushed Tyler down onto the mattress, making sure not to break the kiss and reveled in the feeling of his hands along your body. When you began trailing the kiss down his neck, Tyler let out a few small moans that you desperately wanted to hear more of but he stopped you

  “Maybe we shouldn’t” he said, sitting the two of you back up

  “Why not?” you stared at his lips, plump and red from the intensity of the kiss

  “You just broke up with your boyfriend. My best friend. My captain...”

  “And..” you said non-nonchalantly as you moved your hands to the hem of his shirt, kissing his neck as you did so

  “And I don’t want to be the rebound...” he blurted out, causing you to stop what you were doing. You knew exactly how he felt. Being the rebound was a curse you wouldn’t place on your greatest enemy and Tyler deserved better. You met his stare through your hair that had fallen in front of your face and nodded slowly

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.” Just as you went to shift away from his lap, you heard him gulp harshly and his grip tightened on your hips

  “Maybe..” he hesitated, “maybe we could go slowly...”

  “It’s probably not a good idea, Ty,” you started, “no matter how much we want to”

  “Kiss me again and tell me that it’s a bad idea”

  “Kissing you again would be a bad idea...” you smirked but you were no match for the man in front of you; whose hands had snaked their way up your sides distracting you from everything around you long enough for him to push your hair off your neck and lay soft kisses along your collarbone. It really was a bad idea, both of you knew it, but the energy was magnetic, the need you had for each other was electric and you realized in that moment that this was why you hadn’t cried when you were talking about Jamie.

  Because you were missing the passion in your relationship. The passion that never felt like this and you wondered how you’d survived this long without it.

#Tyler Seguin #Tyler Seguin Imagine #Tyler Seguin Fluff #NHL Imagine #Dallas Stars Imagine #Jamie Benn

[eddieeatsass]

I was the one who sent in 9/19, I meant the 9 w/ secret relationship oops lol

Secret Relationship + Kissing in the Rain from this prompt list

Thanks for the clarification! I’m sorry I fucked up on the list. :S Hope this makes up for it and fulfills all your Reddie fluff dreams. 

The choice to keep their relationship from their friends had been a hard one, but Richie and Eddie were sure it was the right decision. Things were still so new, so tentative, the addition of five other bodies as they tried to navigate their feelings would just add more complication to the fire.

It’s not like they were planning on keeping it from them forever, just until they were sure this thing between them would even work. If things crumbled within the first few weeks, then there’d be no harm no foul to the group. Richie and Eddie could heal on their own time without the losers feeling like they had to pick sides.

But those were disheartening ‘what if’s, so Richie and Eddie tried not to dwell on them. Instead, they focused on the exciting aspects of a new relationships. The moments where your fingers accidentally touch and it sends tingles up your arm, or when you catch them watching you from across the room with a gentle smile on their face, or the small kisses you get to exchange that are charged with a type of energy you’ve never felt before. Those are the things Richie and Eddie busied their minds with, even within the presence of the losers when they had to keep their exchanges secret.

“There’s a bug in my pasta salad.” Stan complained.

“Mike, why would you put a bug in Stan’s pasta salad?” Bev accused jokingly.

“I didn’t put a bug in his pasta salad! We’re in the park, it must’ve just jumped in there!” Mike defended.

“I can’t believe you’d put a bug in poor Staniel’s pasta salad, Micycle.” Richie shook his head in mock disbelief.

Mike let himself deflate, giving up on his attempt at clearing his name.

“This is the last time I make food for one of these things.” Mike grumbled with no real fever behind his fit. He shared a little smile with Stan, who had happily agreed to exchange his bowl of pasta salad for Mike’s when he’d offered him his as an apology.

“I don’t mean to cause alarm but there’s a bug on my sandwich too.” Eddie piped up, lifting up the slice of bread to inspect the small ant that crawled across it, hastily trying to get away.

“Do not come for me, Eddie. I made those sandwiches with love and care.” Bev responded, leaning forward and flicking the ant off his plate with her thumb and forefinger.

Richie followed the ant with his eyes, making a crash-and-burn sound effect as it fell to the ground.

It received a snort from Eddie, which he quickly cut off by clamping his hand over his mouth as his face reddened.

“Awe, Eddie snorted! Cute cute cute!” Richie tried to pinch at Eddie’s cheeks but was slapped away.

The conversation shifted back to the topic of Bill’s theory on aliens, before Eddie was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket.

He pulled out his phone to see four consecutive texts from Richie. Eddie glanced over at him, but he seemed to be engrossed in a debate about whether aliens had humanoid genitals or genitals of a completely different nature.

Eddie opened the thread and was immediately forced to school his features before accidentally giving away their secret.

From Trashmouth:

snort like that one more time and I S2G kaspbrakdo u know how hard it is not to kiss u when u giggle like that???u adorable little piggyI wonder if u squeal like one in bed too...

Eddie was about to type out a response, keen to tease Richie while he had the upper hand, when a drop of water fell against his screen. He squinted up at the sky, observing the dark clouds that seemed to have rolled in from nowhere.

“Uh, guys...” Eddie tried to speak up as another water drop fell on his cheek.

“There’s no way they fertilize like fish, Stan!”

“Why not!?”

“Because they’re aliens! Not fish!”

“They’re not humans either but we’re not discrediting the option that they fuck like we do?”

“Guys I think it’s about to rain-” Eddie tried a little louder.

“Because no one wants to fantasize about aliens popping out 1000 eggs and having their male counterparts sploot all over them.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Woah, when did this become a fantasy thing?”

“It’s been a fantasy thing this whole time, Billiam, keep up! Otherwise why would we even be talking about this!?”

“I, for one, do not want to fuck an alien.”

“WELL CONGRATULATIONS BEN, YOU’RE BORING.”

“Guys!” Eddie finally interrupted the cacophony of voices, but before he could supply them with anything, the rain began pouring hard.

Beverly and Richie both screamed as they bounced to their feet, looking around them as if umbrellas would suddenly sprout from the ground.

Mike, Bill, Ben, and Stan began furiously packing things up, stuffing half eaten plates of food atop each other in their picnic basket.

Eddie just watched the chaos, bemused at the spirit with which everyone moved so suddenly. He busied himself with packing up his own bag, and then shoving Richie’s things into his own backpack as the aforementioned continued to run around in the grass with Beverly, yelling up at the sky.

Once their arms were all overflowing with haphazardly packed things, they began making a beeline for the parking lot. It was still a ways away, but they new the route well. Their feet moved faster as the rain threatened to pour harder, but it was the sudden clash of thunder that caused them all to start sprinting.

Their laughter mingled with the rain, causing a light hum that resonated through the nearby trees. They could see the beginnings of the parking lot coming into focus in the distance, and Bill picked up speed to run in front of the others.

“Land ho!” He exclaimed, pointing in the direction they were running.

Suddenly, Eddie felt a warmth in his hand. He looked down, seeing fingers interlocked with his, and followed them up to a soaked mop of black hair and a cheshire grin. Richie lifted a finger up to his lips before he began pulling Eddie off from the group.

No one seemed to notice, too caught up in the rain and keeping themselves from slipping on the mud beneath their feet. As Eddie looked back over his shoulder, he saw the rapidly disappearing forms of his friends, still running in the direction opposite from where Richie was leading him.

Within thirty seconds they came upon a gazebo, hidden behind a small patch of trees just off to the side of where they’d been sitting for their picnic. They ran into it, the sudden shelter from the rain a welcomed surprise. The pattering of the rain could still be heard on the roof, but it was muffled, quieter than it had been moments before.

They caught their breaths, smiles stapled to their cheeks as they rung as much water as they could out of their clothes, leaving a small puddle beneath them.

“I saw this earlier when we were hunting for a place to eat.” Richie explained, walked over to the edge of the gazebo and leaning up against one of the pillars.

Eddie took in the sight around him; it was breathtaking. The gazebo was large, made out of wood but painted a light blue with accents of white. There was a bench to one end, facing out towards the river, painted in the same colors.

“It’s beautiful.” Eddie noted.

“Just like you.” Richie responded with not a second lost.

Eddie turned to him with one eyebrow raised and a smirk.

“Smooth, you been practicing that one all afternoon?”

“Mhm, since I saw the thing.” Richie grinned back, slapping the hand railing beside him.

Eddie laughed, looking off into the haze of rain.

“You know, I wasn’t lying earlier.” Richie mentioned, drawing Eddie’s attention back to him. “It really is hard not to kiss you every time you laugh.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, a blush mottling his cheeks. He watched with close attention as Richie took the few steps towards him, closing the distance between them.

“It’s my favorite sound.” Richie admitted a little lower, a little shyer.

Eddie gulped, the lump in his throat hardening as his heartbeat quickened.

“Well, no one is around anymore...” Eddie let the sentence trail off, his hands coming to rest on Richie’s chest.

“And thank god for that.”

Richie leaned in gently, capturing Eddie’s lips in a kiss that warmed them both up despite the chill from their damp clothes. The rest of the world dropped away, piece by piece, sound by sound, until all that was left was the two of them connected.

Eddie opened his mouth, allowing Richie to deepen the kiss and pull him closer. It wasn’t filthy, or desperate, or yearning like their kisses usually were; this one was something new.

When they pulled apart, they let their foreheads settle against one another as the blur of the world came back into sight.

“I think we should tell them.” Eddie whispered nervously.

“Yeah?” Richie asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his tone.

Eddie nodded, pulling back just enough that he could look Richie in the eyes.

“I don’t see this ending any time soon...” He bit his lip, searching Richie’s face for any indication of his response before it came.

“Me neither.” Richie’s grin was blinding; goofy and lopsided and perfect.

“So, shall we go tell them?” Richie extended a hand towards Eddie.

Eddie took Richie’s hand, heart and soul bounding with excitement from their new revelation. Outside the gazebo the rain had reduced to a trickle, sun finally peaking through the clouds.

Things felt like they were beginning to settle into where they were supposed to be. The sun was out, the storm had passed, and Richie and Eddie were together.

#reddie #reddie fluff #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie drabble #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my posts #my writing #ask

[tiberia1313]

FOR THE ALL FATHER! [part 1]

Part 1

The roar of weapons was an ever present din on the planet’s surface, audible like a too near storm through the hull of the rhino. The dull thud of bolter fire raked the armored transport as it tore through the ruined streets. The Shield Maidens of the Order of the Healed Spirit listened to the vox chatter as it revealed snippets of the ongoing battle. 

The sisters readied themselves for battle in their own ways. Some worked their way through rosary beads, muttering prayers, and reciting the names of Imperial saints and Fenrisian heroes. Some checked their weapons, and rechecked them in a meditative cycle. A lone sister with wild hair tuned her instrument-weapon until it sang with harmonious chords. She held the familiar keys down, leaned back, and rode the good vibrations, widdling the distortion bar.

“Want some time alone with that thing?” Sister Asta teased. The Transport filled with laughter.

Delirium let up off the keys. “My favorite chord.” She smiled at her comrades.

“Careful Sister, that your pleasures do not take your mind and tear you from the All Father’s light, again.” Cannoness Ragna chastened.

Delirium’s smile disappeared, and she straightened in her seat. “Of course, Cannoness. Forgive me my indiscretion.”

“The All Father’s forgiveness is in the hands of the enemy. Take it for yourself.” Ragna counseled. The hint of a fierce smile spread across the deep wrinkles of her veteraned face. 

“I will, Canoness. For the All Father.” Delirium set her keytar down, and rested her hands on her legs. She began to practice her meditation, while she could. With a click her ear implants cut out her hearing. She closed her eyes, and took in the divine quiet. The discordance that plagued her soul wailed to hear and be heard. If it was denied too long it would kill her. If it was heeded too greatly it would ruin her. She would be free to cut loose soon, to release all restraints. But until then, she would abstain, and be serene, no matter how the taint pushed and pulled her. It would not be her master, nor she its slave. Not again.

The Norn Seidr thumbed through the teeth of her axe like rosary beads, muttering prayers to All Father with each. With each prayer she invoked the name of an old saint or hero, and put voice to her aim to emulate them. Each tooth was etched with a rune and inlaid with blessed silver. They called upon the spirits of their home, and warded away the foes of the All Father. Her thumb pressed upon a tooth bearing the rune of the Mother Wolf, the rune she had begun with. She looked up from her axe, at the nine others in the transport. 

The sound outside made it no mystery what awaited them. They were charging right into the thick of it, their convoy blowing through the front lines. There were prayers for protection, for wrath, for good fortune, for accuracy, for anything a soldier of the All Father would need to return home victorious. She placed a hand on her shield, feeling it’s weight. With a little bit of pride, she knew she was the answer to some of their prayers; She was the All Father’s protection.

One of the sisters turned to her, a young neophyte only raised to the rank of shield maiden a month before. This was her first battle. It looked as if she wanted to say something, or ask something. To reach out. Seidr placed a hand on the neophyte’s shoulders, and smiled.

“There is no shame in fear, only in being ruled by it.” Seidr said. “When those doors open, stay behind me. Keep shooting, pray to the All Father with every shot, and you will see Fenris again.” Her voice was deep and warm like the warm wind that pushes back a storm.

“P-promise?” the neophyte asked. She looked up at Seidr. Even sitting, Seidr towered over her fellow sisters.

“Only the All Father can promise such a thing. All we can promise is to give the whole of our spirits, and to deliver his wrath to the traitors of mankind.” Seidr smiled down at the neophyte, her face framed by the fiery fall of hair that fell to the side of her face.

The neophyte nodded, idily switching the safety of their bolter on and off, On and off. She returned to her own prayers.

Seidr realized some of the other sisters had been listening in. She met each of  their eyes with a nod and a silent promise to do all she could to protect them.

There was horrid thunder and for a moment the rhino was lifted up onto only one track before slamming back down. Bolter fire that had before been steady but sparse now struck like a constant hail. The sound was deafening. 

Delirium could not hear, but she could feel the shocks of impact rung through her with a lurid thrill. 

Seidr watched the side for any breaches, and so she saw it happen. In a flash the interior grew hot and filled with the roar of inferno. An invisible beam as thick around as a thumb cut through the hull, and through a sister who stared down in shock, not even registering the pain. The beam went through to another sister who had not even realized her own death yet, and then it passed through the hull again behind her. As the two sisters’ insides flash cooked, steaming all their other organs, the beam slid back through the transport as it’s wielder held the meltagun steady on its target as it sped on, cutting it open further, and cutting into more sisters strapped into their seats. 

Seidr leaped forward with her shield, snapping her restraints without releasing them. The neophyte’s arm came loose with a sick sizzling pop, but the rest of her was spared as Seidr knelt before her with her storm shield held firm. The beam crackled off the shield’s energy field, and disappeared. 

The whole transport was jolted and thrown back by a forward impact. There was a sound of crumbling stone. Then the ride smoothed out. 

The shouting and cries of pain began. Three of their number were dead outright. Two were unable to fight further. Half of those in the transport were out of the fight before it began. 

Seidr put her hands on a sister who teetered on the edge of Morkai’s glacial den, as someone else tended to the neophyte’s wound. She prayed to the All Father, and called upon the World Spirit for healing. Fenris answered, and Seidr channeled it’s might into its dying daughter. Her pain dulled, he wounds mended just enough, and she stabilised. With her blessed magic done, Seidr moved on to the mundane medicines that would see the sister recover. She thanked the All Father that the road had become smooth, easing the task of stapling shut wounds, and binding bandages. The two wounded would live and fight again. Seidr looked to the other three. Steam and smoke drifted up out of their mouths. She never even had the chance to save them.

Delirium reached a comforting hand out to Seidr who had done so so often for her. “I will sing a dirge to avenge them.” She swore. 

Seidr looked up from where she knelt in prayer for the dead to see the vengeful determination in the skjald’s eyes, burning like summer fire. She nodded in agreement.

“Sororitas! Wolf Sisters! Are you ready for battle?” Canoness Ragna shouted.

The remaining sisters shouted in the affirmative, raising their weapons high. The neophyte raised her own and joined in the warrior shouts, her pain deadened by adrenaline and medicines enough for her to carry on a bit longer.

The sound outside renewed. The hail of bolter fire began almost immediately.

Canoness Ragna shouted over the din. “Our mission is simple! Destroy their artillery. Clear out their bunkers. Claim a building for ourselves. Await the relief force.”

A series of thunder claps went off; the artillery.

The Rhino turned sharply and came to a skidding stop on the shattered concrete ground. The hatches opened. The Wolf Sisters poured out as more rhinos came to similar stops, and disgorged their own warriors. Shouts of “FOR THE ALL FATHER!” filled the air, drowning out the firepower arrayed against them.

Seidr took the lead. She was an inspiring and imposing figure. A giantess among the already tall daughters of Fenris. She held her shield high. Lasfire, bolters, autoguns, and even a burst of plasma rammed into her shield without harm. She screamed a battle cry as those behind her fired their bolters in answer. She overran a pile of sandbags as the cultists abandoned their heavy stubber to take flight. The revving of her chainaxe screamed down upon the traitors without mercy. Blood sprayed across the area as the monomolecular teeth chewed a man up. Her shield stunned another whose bayoneted autogun fell to the ground. A pair with sharpened scraps of metal crossed the distance between her and the cover they had sheltered behind. Seidr roared with fury at the two before her. Their teeth had been filed down to points, and blasphemous symbols had been carved into what had once been their Imperial Guard issued armor. They screamed for aid from their foul gods, but only the All Father answered. 

Seidr wiped the blood from her eyes as she ran on. She kept a rag strapped to the back of her gauntlet for just this reason. The conversion field of her armor cracked to life around her head. A hail of primitive bullets turned to harmless flashes of light. Seidr turned to find the source. A squad of traitors had crawled out from under a pile of slaughtered civilians and begun firing from the cover the corpses provided. Their bullets pinged off the power armor of the sisters harmlessly. Corpses turned to mist as fire was returned. A pair of missile launchers peaked out from behind another horrid pile that proved more adept at weathering bolter fire. Seidr raised her shield and moved her nearest comrade behind her, bracing herself for impact. Others dove for cover. 

Delirium wailed upon her keytar and screamed vengeance. The sanctified sound blaster directed the furious celestial yowl at the traitors. They clutched their ears but their gruesome cover, and their own hands did nothing to stop the gravitic vibrations. Blood vessels burst. Bones splintered. The Traitors fell broken and dead. 

Cannoness Ragna motioned for the advance to continue, to never stop moving, to never let up. Seidr took a moment to look back as she got into motion. Only four of the five rhinos in their convoy had made it. The Neophyte followed in the rear as ordered, helping her wounded sister forward with her one remaining arm, until they could find more permanent shelter.

The traitorous guardsmen were in disarray, turning gun emplacement around with haste. The sisters had come from a tunnel they had thought blocked off, and had had only minutes to rally a defense from the time they heard the stones fall to the emergence of the Rhinos. The armored transports kept moving with the sisters as mobile cover, storm bolters atop them firing into any squad of traitors that amassed for an attack. Sisters with flamers burned the traitors out of their bunkers, as those behind them poured bolt after bolt into the enemy’s lines to cover their approach. The sound of one sister’s song pounded like a drum beat and howled like the storm winds, driving her sisters onward to vengeance and glory. The Wolf sisters leaped into combat, never letting up, never giving room. They were a righteous tide of fury. The waves of sisters crashed upon the artillery emplacements, and those with meltaguns silenced the old guns.

There came a shout. One of the Rhinos was smoking. Then another. A baleful wailing and the scent of perfumes and cooked flesh crossed the battlefield. The call came over the vox; Traitor Astartes, champions of Chaos.

A firing line formed by the silenced artillery, pouring bolt after bolt into the charging traitor-sons, throwing sparks and cracks off their power armor. The armor of the marines was a sick pastel pink, with lavender smeared across their chests like blood. Many reveled in exposing their twisted, malevolent grins to the open air either protected with invisible fields, or just unafraid for their heads. It was all the better to hear the lamentations this way. As they neared, the sisters could see the looks in their eyes. Every sister knew to not be taken alive.

Meltaguns cut some of the first mad marines down, and great gouts of flame washed over mutated flesh, blackening it, and burning down their possessors. Knives, axes, chainswords, and power weapons were drawn. The battle lines met.

Seidr’s chain axe sparked and failed to bite into the ancient power armor of her foe, just as he failed to tear into hers. He kicked her shield to knock her off balance, but she stood firm. With a howl she slammed back. He stumbled, shocked by her strength. In that moment she struck the joint between leg and hip. Metal tore, ceramics fragmented, flesh ripped, bones shattered. The chaos marine fell, wide eyed as an armored boot caved in his skull. Seidr looked around to see who was in need of aid. She spotted many.

Delirium shook as she saw the servants of Slaanesh coming. Their god had stolen everything from her. It had obliterated who she had once been. It had dragged into Skitja; Honorless damnation.

She charged with a cry as mad as her foes. Her keytar’s cutting edge was swung in a furious arc, catching a marine in his unprotected neck, passing halfway through his hardened spine. His twitching tongue reached out for her as she pulled her weapon free. She sneered, and screamed, and played. The holy chord burst the immortal hedon’s eyes as he lurched forward. He screamed in delight even as she brought the cutting edge down upon his skull. Her elation was short lived as all too familiar notes reached her ears.

Discordant chords bearing ruinous timbre drowned out the sounds of battle. Sisters clutched their ears and fell to their knees. The Kakophoni chorus advanced, bringing their baleful orchestra down upon the daughters of Fenris, and upon those astartes unfortunate to stand in the way. The Kakophani did not care who heard the song of Slaanesh, only that it be sung and that it be heard.

Seidr held her shield up to block out the sound, but though the energy feeled crackled and held, the waves went around it and struck those behind her. There was nothing she could do. She screamed with rage as decadent marines blocked her path, blocked her every attempt to bring her axe down upon those who killed her sisters.

Delirium climbed atop a rhino and took a deep breath, and roared out all her love and all her hate. Her voice turned to death. Her fingers played fast and reckless over the keys and thrashed about the distortion bar. She lost herself in the sound, in the music, in the vengeance. Her head banged to the driving rhythm. Her chaos mutated tongue slipped out, covered in sacred silver seals, beared for all to see as she screamed the promised dirge into the Kakophani whose aural supremacy was now challenged.

The Wolf sisters regained footing. Their full numbers got into the fight. With superior numbers they began to take down the transhuman warriors with pack tactics, turning the tide back upon the traitors. In their midst fought exemplars of their order. Ragna’s power sword and Seidr’s axe cut and cleaved through ceramite as a Tale Teller held the image of a hero high as she fought with blade, the inspiring saga she told the only thing heard over the sound of dueling songs by some divine miracle.

Even as their once-brothers lost ground to the numerous and fierce sisters, the kakophoni had ears only for the one who dared to challenge the perfection of the song of Slaanesh. Songs met and the fabric of space-time boiled between them. 

Seidr looked to Delirium. She was wild eyed, lost in the rush of sound and song. There was a manic grin upon her face, freed of all the self control imposed upon her by the sisterhood and by herself. Her screamed verses were near inhuman, but the words themselves were of the ever-human condition of loss. She poured out all she had. But despite this, the kakophoni were gaining ground upon her by sheer numbers and transhuman strength. The song of Slaanesh threatened to crush the reprentent sister, and all the daughters of Fenris who fought for every inch gained.

Seidr prayed to the All Father for aid, to witness his children in their time of need. With her faith held firm in her mind she channeled the winter fury of Fenris. It surged  wild and unrestrained. It came with a primal fury no mortal could contain, but she did not fear. A golden presence shored up her will before it could fall. Her eyes flashed with glacial light as she roared, and the traitor astartes before her screamed as they flash froze, expanding ice shredding them apart from within. Seidr smashed through the frozen sybarites, and refused to let her momentum be slowed. Sisters followed close behind. She cut and battered those in her way, and incinerated the lashing tentacle with her wrist flamer as it reached out to ensure her. The field opened up, and she was through. 

The balance of battling songs had almost tipped wholly against Delirium. Even a song so powered by rage, grief, and ecstasy could not stand up to the five sound blasters arrayed against it, sworn to the god of excess. But the Kakophani were locked in the death struggle, unable to harm others, or see them coming.

Hypersonic axe teeth cleaved off the barrel of the first sound blaster. The Kakophani let out an inhuman shriek modulated by dark technology. He was silenced by the axe tearing into his neck joint. The next noise marine fell to his knees as they were struck from behind. Seidr smashed him with her shield knocking him prone. Her axe came down with all the force the weight of her body, her power armor, and her muscles could bring down. The helmet sprayed open.

The balance shifted. Delirium began to win as the Kakophani’s orchestra was disrupted. The kakophoni shrieked. Delirium shrieked louder, backed by storm winds and golden sovereignty. A sound blaster burst. A Kakophani shrieked in true agony as he fell back into silence. The next followed soon after leaving only one. The last crawled away as his body vibrated violently with the divine song of wrath. Though his organs had all ruptured and every blood vessel had burst, the song kept his nerves firing, forbidding him from death. Delirium closed her eyes and focused on the sound of his shrieks. They were orgasmic. They were just. They were-

Seidr stepped between Delirium and the noise marine. The song dampened, and he finally was released to perish.

Delirium screamed at the outrage of being denied. Her fingers began to move along the keys, until she tore them away, and forced her voice to be silent.

Seidr wiped the blood from her ears, and eyes, and nose. She shut out the pain in her teeth as she stood.

Delirium’s body shook as she heard Seidr’s voice over the vox. “Get to the marked building. Breathe and regain control. The All Father will help you if you ask.” Delirium looked at the still ongoing battle, but Seidr cut in, “You have done your part, and now tread too near the edge. Go.”

Delirium did as she was told, leaving the waning battle behind her. The building was already abandoned. She sat on some stairs and turned her hearing off. Her eyes closed tight as she rocked back and forth and she begged All Father to give her the serenity she needed to save her soul. 

When she opened her eyes again, the rest of the Wolf Sisters had joined her. The dead and wounded were laid out for Seidr and the medicine women to tend to. There were too many. The survivors lined the windows, keeping vigilant watch for the next counter-attack.

Seidr wiped the blood from her uncovered hands, her gauntlets hung from her waist. She put a finger to her lips, silencing Delirium as she approached. She pressed their foreheads together, and held Delirium as she began to cry.

Part 1 Interlude

Earlier...

Sir Rushtian growled, an act he knew to be quite below his dignity as the descendant of the greatest primarch, Leman Russ. But he could not help himself when faced with the infuriating banality of the Administratum.

“We cannot authorize an escort flight at this time.” The administratum official explained. “All flights are devoted to bomber escort until the lines can be broken through.” His voice was flat in every measure.

“Then why are the bombers not flying, good sir? Tell me this.” Rushtian towered over the mortal man, peering through the lenses of his old corvus helm, trying to pierce into the functionary’s mind to see what made it fail to tick.

“All bomber flights are grounded until friendly fire can be minimized.” The official recited.

“I’m glad that is considered for once by you honorless curs, but I must ask, if the bombers do not fly, then why must all escorts be devoted to them? Speak, sir.”

“The enemy still has active air assets. We cannot risk sending out bombers without escort.”

Rushtian took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was not a young wolf, and had not been for a long time. “But the bombers are not flying. So the escorts can attend to other craft, like my Transports.”

“But then the bombers would be without escort. We cannot risk the Emperor’s property so recklessly.” The official explained this with the same flatness as he’d use to tell a mother she had lost all her sons and a private that he had used too much bog roll.

“BUT THE BOMBER’S ARE NOT FLYING YOU INGRATE! YOU POX UPON THE IMPERIUM! THEY FLY NOT HITHER NOR WHITHER!” Sir Rushtian thundered and bellowed. The Wolf Lord could be heard for a half mile in every direction as the vox speakers amplified his words.

The Administratum official showed no reaction, having grown calloused to such displays decades before. Everyone yelled at him eventually. “I do not make the rules sir, I only manage them to make sure proper protocols are followed.”

Rushtian felt a few of his venerable longfang brothers put their hands upon his pauldron to steady him, and restrain him if necessary. He dragged his chivalric composure back before speaking once more. “You are Exquimelus Gentici IV, correct?”

“Yes sir.”

“Your signature is on these particular protocols.” Sir Rushtian passed the dataslate, tapping on the official's own signature.

“Yes sir.”

“So you did make this rule.” Rushtian measured out his words with care, and felt his brothers shift closer to him just in case the leverage was needed.

“I suppose so sir.”

“So you can release the escort’s?”

“I only make the rules sir, I can’t make exceptions to them.”

Sir Rusftian turned and left before he slew one of the Emperor’s servants. The long fangs followed him, sighing with relief. Outside the tent waited his fifteen squires; blood claws all. The youngest of the Space Wolves, with hearts of fire not yet tempered by wisdom and patience. Though not even the old were too-tempered in the latter regard.

“Sir Rushtian, maybe we could lean on the pilots some, get them to take flight.” One blood claw suggested, to a few grunts of agreement among his packmates.

“Would love to see that administratum stool’s face at that.” Another added, to raucous laughter and some cheer.

“Nay. We shall do no such thing.” Rushtian held up his hands and shook his helmed head. “We are the sons of Russ, honorable warriors of the All Father. We tread only in a manner befitting us. But we shall not abandon our sisters either. Come my squires, raise your weapons.” Rushtian raised his thunder hammer high. The squires raised their chainswords. “If the sky will not have us then we shall do our duty by the foot. We shall be like the storms of Fenris, blowing away the traitors to the All Father. I, Sir Rushtian, descendant of Leman Russ, swear this! The lines shall break, and grant us passage to our waiting sisters. Shall ye all swear this with me?”

There were shouts of agreement and oath swearing. The raucous sound of revving chainswords drowned out the conversations of anyone within a hundred meters.

Rushtian laughed. “Very good! But we must take care that our enthusiasm does not disturb those other servants of the All Father as they do their duties. Even if I shamefully did so myself moments ago.” He coughed, and heard the long fangs chuckle amongst themselves.

The sound of hypersonic chains died down, replaced with laughter. The blood claws of the Space Wolf demi-company, the Wolf Knights, dispersed to spread the word; They were marching to battle. There was to be a breakthrough.

#warhamemr 40k #40k #adepta sororitas #space wolves #fan fiction #original fiction

[leoswritingcorner]

an oracle in olympus - pt 5

we are moving along! are we getting answers or more questions?? and fiNALLY clucky?

part 5 of? 

This was not how Lucky wanted to spend her Saturday. She’d already made plans: clean the apartment, do some shopping, catch up on her shows, plan out her birthday weekend. None of these plans involved following the Dread Persephone into town for a ‘test’ as he so called it.

Persephone is here. He wants to test if I’m really Tyche, or not. Lucky taps a text message to Lucy and Jamie. If ya’ll don’t hear from me in an hour, send help

Lucky shoves the phone into her pocket and makes a quick dash to keep up with Eric. He walks in determined strides, yet insists a breathing mortal like herself keep ten feet from him at all times. She sends a scowl at the back of his head. A wind, too chilly for August, breezes by and Lucky shivers. Grey clouds begin to form and rumble with the sound of an impending storm.

“Hey…,” Lucky starts with realization, “It’s still summer. Why were ya in the Underworld?” 

Eric’s steps come to a quick stop.  “Don’t ask me questions that are none of your business, mortal,” he says sharply. “You’ll do well to-”

“Fight with your mom?” Lucky guesses casually, her head tilting to the side as she places her hands firmly on her hips.  

Eric sputters a few times, his pale face going red before he huffs loudly, throwing up his hands. “Yep, you guessed it, I had a fight with my mom! Shut up and mind your own business!” He snaps dramatically, then turns away from her and starts walking again.

“You mind your own business,” Lucky mutters, but smiles slightly at her tiny victory. Eric is already steps ahead of her, as if trying to regain his royal composure and status, but the grumbling under his breath really didn’t help. Lucky has to pop the collar of her coat and nuzzle into its warmth as the wind blew harder, carrying more storm clouds on its back. If she didn’t know any better, she would think the storm was following Eric. From the way he would occasionally sneak an exasperated glance at the sky now and then, maybe the thought wasn’t too far off.

They finally bring their miserable stroll to an end when Eric stops at a local corner store. Lucky motions to the store and looks at Eric, confused. “What does this have to do with your test?” She asks bluntly. Eric silently holds up a pointer finger to Lucky then marches into the store. Thunder continues to rumble overhead, louder, and the air grows colder. Lucky rolls her eyes. “Oh, Demeter. Only a mother’s love.”

The bells of the corner store door ring as Eric comes outside again. There’s a plastic bag in his hand filled with various items. “Here,” he says, shoving the bag into her hands. Lucky glares at him, and fishes through the contents.

“Scratch off tickets and a mini bottle of whiskey?” Lucky lifts her brows, holding up a shot worth of Jack Daniels. “Is this a joke? This is your way of findin’ out if I’m Tyche?”

Eric is on his own phone, his large fingers typing out a hasty message. “I said I have my ways,” he insists. He shoves the phone into his coat pocket and nods. “Tyche, as much as I couldn’t stand her, was blessed,” he groans with pure indignation “With fortune and luck for whatever reason.”  

“Scratch offs are not going to prove anything.” Lucky points out. “These are based statistics, and-”

“Oh my Tartarus shut up,” Eric groans, covering his ears. Lucky scoffs, then holds up the bottle of whiskey to him questioningly. He nods. “Oracles used to get intoxicated to make their prophecies. The guy had no weed on him…,” Eric motions to the clerk inside. 

“Oh as if,” Lucky shakes her head. “I’m not drinkin’ out in public or gettin’ high.” She bags up the tickets and bottle and shoves it back at him. “Thanks for wastin’ both of our time.”

His phone vibrates with three strong pulses against his chest. Eric swears and swiftly rounds around, blocking Lucky with his wide towering form. “Try,” He says lowly. It was just one word, yet Lucky could feel the dark timbre he spoke it with. He moves forward and she takes a wise step back. He lifts the bag and bounces it a bit, the tickets and bottle ruffling around with the motion, and he gives her a challenging look, an iron like smirk curling at his lips. 

Lightning cracks throughout the clouds, followed by a drum of thunder that practically shook the ground. The wind gives one more wail before rains, too much like the slow fall of tears, begins to soak the Earth. Eric keeps steady, but there’s a quick flash of guilt in his eyes before it’s gone. Lucky narrows her eyes. “Fine, fine. Let’s just get out of this rain.”

Eric silences the phone and breathes a sigh of relief, following her into the covered pavilion of a nearby cafe. Okay, so this hadn’t been his best test. He would’ve preferred something more strenuous, more dangerous, even life-threatening! But time wasn’t on his side. Everything he had grown accustomed to over the centuries - his lifestyle, his kingdom, his wife - all of it counted on these next few moments.

*

Lucky hiccups. This cinnamon spice tea was stronger than usual. She completely missed however, the extra splash of whiskey Eric had slipped in. She shakes her head and blinks her vision clear as she scratches off another winning ticket. “Two hundred dollars, again. That’s all the tickets,” she sighs tiredly. The rain had finally come to a stop only minutes ago, and she was ready to leave.

Eric waves a waitress over and asks for the cheque. He sneaks the empty bottle of whiskey into her pocket. She can catch the blame. He turns to Lucky and pretends to hum in thought. “That’s pretty lucky if you ask me.”

“Don’t start,” Lucky says, collecting the tickets. All together the winnings from the tickets added up to a grand total of $500. “You must’ve just got...uh,” Lucky trails off. She felt light headed and almost afloat. Eric watches carefully as her eyes become hazy. This was it, this was really it. “Yoohoo~” Lucky sing-songs a passing woman.

The woman stops and gives Lucky a puzzled look. “Yes?”

Lucky smiles. “You have someone in need. Someone you love very much, and I think you may need this much more than I do,” she says. Her tone was softer, and the Savannah drawl was nearly unnoticeable, as if the voice she spoke in was not her own. Eric keeps quiet, watching as Lucky turns her head. He catches a faint glow in the irises of her eyes, nearly illuminating the green of them. The woman is practically in tears as she takes the winning scratch offs, nodding.

“My dog, he needs an operation,” the woman reveals. “Oh, how did you know?” She clutches the tickets close to her. 

“Just a hunch. Fortunate timing,” she replies, gently patting a hand to the woman’s trembling arm. The glow in her eyes fades as the woman leaves. Lucky rubs her head. “Wow. I feel like I just zoned out hard,” she says, glancing around. For a few minutes, everything in her mind had gone dark. What was in that tea? She checks her cup.

Eric keeps his fingers steady as he texts. The reply he gets back is instant. He reads it over three times, before looking to Lucky. “Ready to go then?” He asks quietly. Lucky lowers the cup and nods.

Together they leave.  The pavilion is crowded as people who had also been seeking shelter from the brief storm. Lucky watches as Eric practically bulldozes his way through, though she manages to catch up and bump her hip to his and step out into the stale cool air that always remained after the rain. A few droplets of rain still fell in a drizzle, and the sky still looked too dark for the late afternoon. 

From the pavilion they had just left, hidden among the bustle of patrons, a pair of light eyes watches their every move,focused solely on Eric.

The street is alive and busy with cars and trucks zooming by. The road itself looked like a black river under the slick surface of rainwater. “I’m goin’ home,” Lucky states with finality. “Ya wasted half my day.” She crosses her arms, daring Eric to retort. Instead of replying or swearing her out, like she expects, he stays quiet. Too quiet for her liking.  Lucky turns her head away and looks to the crossing sign. Despite the cool air, her skin began to warm, and unease tenses her nerves. Again, like yesterday, a prickling in her skin arises. Something is wrong. Whispers like hushed screams vibrate through her head.

Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Run! Get away!

Lucky darts her eyes up at Eric then to the sign. 

RUN!

The three beats of a text message pound against Eric’s chest, carrying the same message from before.

DO IT NOW.

He swallows and silently prays to himself. He prays it’s quick. He prays his wife never finds out. A patch of thorny weeds lay limply on the curb. It senses him, and begins to shift and grow under the gaze of the god of Spring. The thorns grow sharper, stronger, curling up for their master. The snares of vines and thorns catch against Lucky’s ankle as she moves. When she stumbles, his hand presses ever so lightly to her back. It’s not enough for her to feel, but enough to send her falling onto the road. Just enough for Eric and any onlookers to blame the slippery road from the rain.

Lucky barely feels the pain of the pavement hitting against her body. All she can hear are screams and cries. She hears the blaring of the truck’s horn coming towards her. The brightness of the headlights blind her wide eyes. 

Her body soars through the air.

The truck speeds by, whipping air and water from the ground against her, mere inches from her body. It had narrowly missed her. How? Did it move at the last minute? No, she moved. How? Lucky trembles, feeling herself high off the ground and wrapped in a pair of strong, warm arms, holding her protectively. 

She turns her eyes away from the street and feels her heart leap into a soundless yet furious beat against her chest. Blue eyes look back at her - the most breathtaking blue eyes. Ones she had seen before, every night as she slept. In her dreams she could see the pure happiness and love that filled his eyes. But now here, awake, she sees something else. Distance, a sadness, longing…

The scene, the commotion, everyone around them seems to fade away. They vanish away, along with the world, and it is just them. Time seems to stop, as if to let them steal away a moment that had been lost years ago. Lucky wants to speak, but her voice feels lost within her own throat. Her fingers cling and uncling around the fabric of his jacket, she feels his muscles tense over her touch. She feels the tips of his own fingers press into her body. She finally hears and feels the trembling breathes she takes, his breathing matching hers. Her body aches. Not from the fall or even the adrenaline of everything, but with a longing she sees mirrored in his eyes. His name begins to form on her lips.

“Lucky!” Lucy’s voice cries out. The world returns with all its noise and commotion. Lucky’s body rocks with startlement. He finally pulls his gaze away from her. Lucy and Jamie press through the crowd toward them. They must’ve gotten her text, just in time. Wait. Persephone. Lucky looks across the street where Eric had been. 

He was gone.

*

bling

The video wraps up its recording. Two whole minutes of an incriminating scene where Persephone nearly carried out a murder on a mortal before their time. Oh, how delightfully damning! He watches the video with a satisfied smile. It was clear as day what Persephone had done.

He packs up his belongings and stands from their seat at the cafe. In his wake he leaves behind a lingering scent of mint.

*

Jamie’s hands are on Lucky’s cheeks as she checks every single inch of her. “Are you sure you’re, like, okay?” The love goddess asks, her voice hitching on a sob. Lucky nods, wincing as Lucy cleans out the scratches on her hands from the fall.

“Jamie, give her space,” Lucy says and Jamie huffs. The two goddesses fuss lightly, but Lucky’s attention moves towards her dining room, where he sat at the table. His eyes were on her before looking at the coffee before him. Now in the light, she sees him better. There’s light scars that blend into the skin of his arms and face, and she wonders if he has more. Lucky’s face flushes as she takes in more of his brawny build, each part of him fit and…

“Peepin’ at Clyde?” Lucy hums teasingly, keeping her attention on cleaning Lucky’s hands.

Lucky’s entire body goes a new shade of pink. Jamie smiles knowingly. “Why...why did he come?” Lucky asks in a hushed whisper. Both Jamie and Lucy show Lucky in that moment that they are not skilled in the art of subtleness as they both turn their heads to him.

Lucky gives Clyde a weak smile as he gives them a small wave. “Thanks y’all, please be more obvious next time, invite him to sit right here,” she hisses, moving her head closer to them. Lucy snorts.

“Uh, hey I....” Clyde starts as he stands up, the chair scraping against the floor and falling back with a loud crash. “Sorry.” He apologizes quickly, picking up the chair. “I just wanted-” He bumps his head on the hanging lamp above, where it swings back and forth with force and Clyde has to close his eyes and breathe. “Where’s the bathroom?” He finally asks defeated. He catches the lamp before it could crash into him again. 

Lucky points to the small hallway. “The last door,” she replies softly. He watches her for a moment longer, before he nods and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. A beat of silence passes before Lucky looks back to Lucy and Jamie questioningly.

Lucy is the first to respond. “I just told him that we were coming to see you. You had sent that text and we got a bad feeling, and he insisted on coming along,” the wine goddess explains. “I told him about you after the first time we brought you to Olympus.”

“How did he react? What did he say?” Lucky asks. God, was she back in middle school?

Lucy smiles as if she could read her thoughts. “He was stunned, shocked, didn't believe us for a minute, and then he was ready to charge out of Olympus the next minute and find you himself.”

“But, like, what would you expect?” Jamie asks with a shrug. “Heracles always was a hothead.”

“Jamie, for all the wine in Italy,” Lucy groans, closing her eyes. Jamie’s eyes widen at her mistake, her hand flying to her mouth as if to hold back another secret. Lucky’s eyes widen and her jaw drops.

“H-Heracles?” Lucky squeaks, looking between Lucy and Jamie. “I dated Heracles?!”

“Surprise.” Lucy nods. “Tyche and Heracles, Greece’s #1 couple.”

*

Sicily, Italy

“Persee-Poo!” Demeter greets her son brightly. “Oh my handsome little flower is home again!” She calls out to her nymphs. Even at night, the flowers bloom and glisten in the moonlight at his arrival. There’s sounds of salpinx echoing through the village and cheers erupted. 

Yes, it was the homecoming he enjoyed. Even after a fight and it being the last month of summer, his mother made his arrival a celebration, a feast.

But today, it all fell heavy. The usual fanfare rang hollow in his ears.

“Mother,” he greets as her arms wrap around him. He feels her love for him pour over him in that embrace alone. But this was not what he returned for. He had to hide, to think, to figure out his next step. 

*

Something just wasn’t right. 

Lucky recounts her day silently in her head. Being woken and forced to be tested by Eric, to nearly being run over, encountering Tyche’s lover- who happened to be one of the most famous Greek hero figures for the first time in thousands of years, and then just a few hours ago a wild boar, that looked a little too monstrous to be just any feral pig, attacked as Lucy, Jamie, and Clyde were leaving. It took one solid punch from Clyde before it disintegrated to nothing. 

Lucy all but shoved Lucky into the Volkswagen with them and declared she’d be spending another night in Olympus. 

“Please make yourself, like, at home!” Jamie insists as she opens the door to her house. Lucky blinks back her thoughts and tries to take in the sudden flash of pink. Jamie with a dancer’s grace spins on her feets and opens up her arms. “Welcome to, like, my humble home.” She says brightly.

It was everything Lucky would expect from the goddess of love. Walls of pink adorned with strings of flowers and pearls wrapped together, hanging loosely over elegant paintings from times past. Lucky was surprised how well they went with the various neon lights shaped into hearts and lips. Rose petals decorated the carpeted floors and lead to pools of refreshing looking waters of aquagreen. 

“Wow,” is all Lucky can say.

Lucy sets Lucky’s bag down and nods. “Yep. Trust, there’s more. This is only the tip of the iceberg,” she says as Jamie holds her hand for a dove to land gracefully on her finger. Lucky turns to where Clyde stood. He has his arms crossed, but drops them once her eyes catch his. As if the actions were not her own, she walks over to him.

She tilts her head back as he leans his own down. There’s a slow cross of smiles on their lips. Was this a joke between them from long ago? Lucky presses her lips together and clears her throat. “Th-thank you.” She says, “For earlier, when ya saved me.”

“From the truck or boar?” He asks, and there’s a joking tone to his voice and Lucky lets a giggle slip out.

“Both I guess. I had the boar though.” 

“Yeah, right from Lucy’s shoulders when you jumped on her,” he nods with raised brows. He grins and Lucky feels her heart leap again. His eyes crinkled slightly, just the way she sees in her dreams. 

They fall into a silence that neither can determined is complicated or comfortable, until Lucy comes around. She drapes a long arm around Lucky and flashes a dazzling smile to them both. “Jamie’s got a bed for you all set up, Charms,” Lucy informs Lucky. “Go get some rest.”

“Oh,” Lucky nods, she looks back up to Clyde smiling. “Thanks again. Night.” She says, slipping away. She glances to them once more over her shoulder, following after Jamie. Lucy watches as Clyde’s gaze trails after her and shakes her head. 

“C’mon, big guy. I’ll whip up that drink you like and you can tell me about it,” she offers. Clyde looks to her, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. He thinks for a moment before huffing.

“Why not,” he agrees. 

Lucy calls out a goodbye and walks outside to the car with Clyde.  As soon as they climb in she looks to him expectantly. 

Clyde stares ahead and breathes in. 

“It’s her.” 

“I know,” Lucy nods. “But…” She prompts. He had more to say, she could see it on his face and even just hear it by the way he speaks.

Clyde shakes his head 

“But at the same time, she’s just not Tyche.” 

Lucy nods, leaning back with a thoughtful look. “Give her time. Give them both time,” she suggests, and turns the keys, starting the car. “We just need to figure this out.”

*

Lucky enjoys the cool air that breezes in from the window and turns in the plush bed, twisting into the sheets. Her sleep came surprisingly easy, and she feels herself falling into it deeper, and deeper...deeper...

She’s laying on her back, on the softest bed of flowers. The petals brush against her skin. There’s another touch that she feels, a hand. Their slender fingers curl and lace around hers.

“Tyche,” A whisper-like voice calls. A whisper she’s heard before.

“Yes.”

Did she just answer to being called Tyche? She opens her eyes and sees a young woman with red hair gazing at her. Together they lay in a vast meadow of flowers that stretched far and so wide it was easy to get lost simply in the different array of colors.

The woman looks at her worried “You must hurry.” 

“She is scared.”

Two voices leave her. Her own, and someone else’s. They mingle together like rain against glass.

“She is you” the woman says. “You are her.”

A loud rumble shakes the meadow and the colors of the field fade away quickly. Purples, pinks, blues, yellows all become gray and lifeless. The flowers decay and dust. The woman turns to her. “Remember!” She whispers quickly, her eyes wide as she looks around. The sky rumbles once more and both of them gasp as cracks begin to appear and break down the very world around them. The redhead shakily stands and looks to her pleadingly among the fear that flooded through her, she turns and flees, “Remember and wake up!” She calls out, her voice fading.

She sits up, reaching for her. “Psyche!”

Lucky jolts awake. Her dream fades as she sits up, barely remembering what happened. Flowers, a woman...what was her name? Lucky grunts in frustration and drops back against the many heart shaped pillows.

“What is happening?” She asks helplessly to herself. She feels her cheeks soaked with tears she didn’t even know she was crying, and hides her face into her hands. Maybe by morning she’d either remember or forget everything completely.

#lucky day #lucy montgomery #jamie jameson #vivi sykes #clucky #auaghs #an oracle in olympus

[rinusagitora]

The love, lead, and the undead.

Fandom: Monster Prom

Characters: Vicky Schmidt, Damien LaVey, Brian Yu, Oz, Zoe, Vera Oberlin, Liam de Lioncourt, Blobert, Scott Howl, Stan LaVey, Lucien LaVey, OC: Mungandr, 

Pairings: Brian/Damien/Vicky, Oz/Zoe, Lucien/Stan

Words: 4.1k

Summary: Canon divergent. Chapter 6/?. WARNINGS— violence, gore, drug use, major character death; Their worst nightmare comes to fruition.

Vicky had a headache the size of Manhattan and not even dope eased the rumble of her head.

“I’m dying,” she announced as she pushed a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses up the bridge of her stupidly tiny nose. “Why the fuck did you guys let me drink so much? I mean, that whiskey was expensive so I wanted to make sure we finished that, but I had six other drinks on top of it.”

“Because we were less than sober ourselves, and I, for one, wanted to see how much you could drink before you absolutely couldn’t walk.”

“Fuck you, Brian.”

“You did that at least twice. I was there,” Damien said.

“Damien. Unless the next words out of your mouth magically make my headache go away, I will carve out my colon and floss your teeth with it.”

Vicky tossed her joint out of the window when the school came into view. Brian parked and she tumbled out of the car. He was sweet enough to massage her neck at least.

Immediately, the trio was bombarded by Scott. Vicky wasn’t made with cat reflexes, so while her boyfriends deftly stepped out of reach, she was squashed in his huge arms and chest. Her arms laid by her side. At least if she suffocated, her head wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Vicky! Vera told me all about how awesome you were yesterday. You’re so awesome!” Scott cheered.

“Scott, I think you’re hurting her.”

Scott dropped her. Vicky involuntarily gasped for air. Nonetheless, she peered around Scott and beamed when she laid eyes on Blobert.

“Hey there, buddy!” Brian chirped. He strode over with uncharacteristic charm and hugged Blobert. Vicky was kind of jealous he got to hug Blobert first. “How’s it going? We missed you at the game.”

“I’m sorry. Stocking’s water broke at the shelter, so I stayed to help deliver her kitties.”

“Oh my god, do you have pictures of them?”

“I do! I’ll text them to you later today. I have something for Vicky, however.”

Vicky blinked. “For me? Why?”

“Forgive me for prying, Vicky, but I saw you running away from school the other day. Valerie told me what happened… the business concerning your uncle. I know there isn’t anything I can do to heal what he has done to you, but I hope you understand that you are loved, and I know for a fact you have many friends who will protect you.” Blobert pressed a card into her hand. “I know this isn’t much, but I hope it will remind you that you have many people who love you and will never hurt you.”

Vicky leaped onto Blobert and squeezed him. “Thank you, Blobert, you’re an amazing friend. My uncle was… an awful man, but you’re right. I have a family here with all of you. There’s nothing more I want.” Aside from more painkillers for her head.

“Anyways, I should get going. I have a quiz today. I’ll catch you guys around.”

“Bye, Blobert.”

Scott resumed squeezing Vicky. “I’m sorry I took your arm off the other day. I was so scared! You were running and screaming and I got scared, so I grabbed you. I guess I don’t know my strength.”

Vicky felt awful. She hurt Scott in her tizzy to escape, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. “It wasn’t your fault. My arm fell off because I ripped open my stitches to get away,” she explained. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Her head felt like it imploded. The Christmas she kissed Liam flashed before her eyes.

---

Oz exuded goo. Fear wheezed and whined. His head was lolled against Zoe’s shoulder as he breathed raspily, and his hair had seeped down into her lap like candle wax. It was so hard for him to keep his shape when the spear sucked out his power like soft marrow.

“Baby?” Zoe said hoarsely. Her tentacles were dry. “Are you still with me?”

“Barely,” he mumbled.

“I have an idea how to get out,” she said. Oz hummed quizzically. “You probably won’t like it.”

“Can it be any worse than this?”

“Is the spearhead on your side?” Zoe asked.

Oz lifted his head. The tip of the spear was shaped like a spade from a deck of cards. He gave a resigned sigh. There were worse fates than having that ripped through his chest, like Vicky's death. “It is. It’s pretty wide, though, so we’ll need to pull hard.”

“What? No, Oz, I need it to pick our cuffs. You’re going to have to break it off.

He was relieved. “Can you pull it closer? Slowly, I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Zoe grunted. He heard her tentacles and teeth grip it. Slowly, with enormous strain, she pulled it closer. He hissed between his teeth. Every inch it was dragged through him burned from his collar to the bottom of his ribcage.

“Are you okay?” Zoe asked tearfully.

“Keep going, just a couple more inches,” he whined. "One more pull, baby.”

Zoe gave one last heave and the spade was close enough to touch his chest. “You’re good. Lean as far forward as you can.”

Oz’s goo shuddered. He tensed it around the rod inside of his chest to cut it off, free himself, and then pick them free without the cumbersome spear in the way. He was too weak to shear it off, however.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” he wept. “I’m so sorry.”

“I said you won’t like this. Forgive me, Oz.”

The mouth at the top of Zoe’s head opened and it siphoned the sanity from the denizens outside. Terror flooded the dungeon.

Oz's vision blurred as it seeped into his skin like poison. It rattled his bones like glass in a hurricane. A scream ripped from the mouths of Oz's phobias. They writhed and bucked and howled. Individual phobias ballooned with teeth, their eyes glowed with menace. It was worse than the spear, how his body grew and thrashed of its own accord.

The spear snapped in two with a crack like thunder when clubbed by one of his incarnations. Zoe closed her mouth, Oz fell to the floor and coughed up spongy bits of Fear.

"Oz!" Zoe screamed with fright. Freed of the spear, she unlocked their chains. “Are you okay?” she bawled. “I’m so sorry, Oz, I didn’t know what else to do.”

He grunted, “I’m fine, but Vicky needs our help. Let’s get the hell out of here before the guards find out! I don't think I can fend them off if we're discovered!”

Zoe opened a portal into the overworld.

---

Brian heard gunfire for the very first time when he was fifteen. It kind of sounded like it did in Hollywood, but at the same time, it didn't. Gunfire wasn’t like a bomb or firecrackers. It sounded more like an engine backfired next to a bullhorn. It was so indistinct, Brian's entire body tensed for a split second whenever he heard something similar.

However, over the last six years, it became a knee jerk reaction since those pops never turned out to be gunshots again, and he calmed down as quickly as he freaked out.

It wasn't until Scott and Vicky dropped like stones and their blood pooled around them like macabre halos that Brian's fears were confirmed. The screaming of his classmates hit his ear like a bat to the side of his face and he hit the deck and shook uncontrollably. His friends and lover bled out only two feet away, and yet he couldn't even move to stem the bleeding or call emergency services.

"Vicky? Scott? Oh my god," Brian croaked. Scott gurgled on the other side of Vicky. Terror had frozen him in place. Brian loathed himself for his weakness, but even as he scolded himself with the most scathing remarks, his body refused to budge. "Somebody help us! Please!"

Above Brian, a cyclonic portal opened, and Oz and Zoe, albeit bedraggled, hopped onto the sidewalk next to Brian's head.

"Oh my god!" Oz screamed in horror. He and Zoe crouched next to Scott and Vicky.

"Go! Damien is gone, he could be hurt. I'll take care of Scott," Zoe said.

"Brian, where's Damien?" Oz asked.

"I don't know," Brian said, "I think he ran after the shooters, but I don't know where they went."

Nonetheless, Oz took off.

"Brian, I need your help," Zoe said.

"I-I can't."

"They're gone. Scott needs help, or he's going to bleed to death."

Brian shook his head. "I can't. I can't look at her."

Zoe threw her jacket over Vicky's head. "There. I know you're in pain, Brian, but Scott is dying. I need your help. Please, come here."

Shakily, Brian pushed himself onto all fours and crawled over to Zoe and Scott. He gagged and swallowed bile. Bits of Vicky's brain and hair were splattered onto Scott's face, and he gurgled as he feebly pressed his paw against his torn carotid.

"Focus on me," Zoe said. "What's your blood type?"

"O-positive," he replied.

"Excellent. This is going to hurt, but this is the only thing that's going to save Scott."

Brian nodded. Zoe plunged her tentacles into Brian's neck.

---

Vicky's head sprayed over Scott. Damien had fired enough guns to have instantly understood what had happened.

He took after the black car behind them that squealed away from campus. Damien wasn't anything extraordinary, but the second of Vicky's murder, his unbridled rage pushed him harder than ever before.

Damien gained on the car even as it accelerated upwards of sixty miles an hour. Damien threw himself onto the trunk, and to throw him off, the driver spun the car and they careened into power lines. Damien howled when he collided with solid wood. The splintered pole creaked and he realized it tipped over like a tree.

He managed to push himself free right as the cables ripped. Electricity crackled, the live cables writhed like beheaded snakes, sparks flew in every direction.

Damien stormed to the driver’s seat. Every inch of him burned with unbridled homicidal rage palpable enough that the air around him shuddered with heatwaves. He grabbed the driver, a yellow manticore, by their collar and threw them onto the live powerlines. They combusted without a sound.

Finally, he pulled the passenger, a young vampire, into the street. They were unconscious and bled from their forehead. “Wake the fuck up!” Damien bellowed. He slapped them and they awoke with a yelp. “What’s your name?”

“What?” they asked.

“I asked for your fucking name!” Damien screamed.

“Fuck off!”

Damien pulled a knife from his waistband and held it against their throat. “Fine, did you shoot my girlfriend then?”

“I did!” the vampire spat with a vicious tone. “She killed my dad!”

“She had come so far! We were going to be happy together!”

“And I’ll never be happy without my dad!”

“This is your fault. Now I'm going to string you up by your fucking guts!"

Damien kicked the gun out of their hand as they reached for it. He sank his knife into their abdomen and pushed it down until it nicked their pubic bone. Damien pushed them back with a fistful of their intestines. They fell back with eyes as wide as dinner plates. Fruitlessly, they weakly stuffed their innards inside, before they fell limp.

He crouched over them as they breathed raspily. “This is the end. You messed with the wrong bitches.”

“Damien!” Oz screamed. Oz tackled Damien and they rolled across the asphalt.

“Fuck!” Damien screamed as he pushed Oz off. “Get off! I’m going to kill them all!”

“She is gone and mutilating him,” Oz flung his hand to point at the dying vampire, “isn’t going to do jackshit. But Scott barely clinging to life. He needs his friends. Please, put this behind you for your friends.”

It was like Oz kicked the wind out of Damien. Rage subsided, and he began to cry.

Vicky was gone for the rest of his life: fodder for blowflies and worms.

---

Zoe parked Brian's truck. They tumbled out and ran full speed into the Emergency Room. Vera stormed to the front desk. “We’re here for Scott Howl. I’m his Power of Attorney, Vera Oberlin.”

“Miss Oberlin, we need you to fill out some paperwork for Mister Howl,” said the receptionist.

As Vera filled out paperwork, Oz had to help Damien and Brian into chairs next to each other. The pair looked miserable. Brian’s head was in his hands, Damien rubbed his mouth with a disconnected gaze. Yet as much as it pained Oz to see his friends like that, there were more imminent threats. He needed to warn the LaVey family of the Aquino’s plan for their demise.

He couldn’t tell Damien about their plan, though. He was already put through the wringer. He needed to get Damien’s parents into the equation. A manipulative tactic, but Oz reasoned that Damien needed their support anyway, so really, it helped everyone.

Oz kneeled in front of Brian and Damien and held their hands. "Damien, you need to call your dads. You need them now."

Damien nodded with glassy eyes. “Right,” he murmured before he dug through his pockets.

Zoe pulled Oz aside. “Please, for the love of whatever you hold sacred, tell me we’re not keeping the Aquino’s plan a secret. More people are going to be killed if we keep this on the DL, maybe Vicky will be hurt worse.”

“That’s why I reminded Damien to call his parents.

"Excellent."

Before Oz could reply, Blobert and Liam ran into the emergency room. Blobert sobbed inconsolably. Oz ran over to them.

"We came as soon as we heard about Scott," Liam said.

Oz hugged them. "Thank you."

"Is he going to be okay?" Blobert asked. He sounded so desperate, and somehow, despite Blobert's gelatinous nature, he gripped Oz's hands so hard he thought they might break.

"I don't know. He's in surgery now and we haven't heard any updates," Oz replied.

"What about Vicky?"

A hush fell over their group. Damien resumed crying, Brian escaped into the nearby bathroom. Oz couldn't look Blobert in the eye.

"I'm sorry, but she's dead," he told Blobert.

"We believe Vicky was targeted by a gang she robbed the other day. Damien took care of the perps, but they got in a good shot. She's not coming back," Zoe said.

Valerie hopped the back of a chair squeezed Blobert as he sobbed. Oz waited by the doors where his cries were someone muffled.

He felt awful. He was too late. He was always too late.

Lucien and Stan ran inside as Oz internally berated himself. If only Vicky could see how many people loved her.

Oz stood. "Go comfort your son, but as soon as possible, I have an issue of utmost importance about your kingdom's security."

The two demon Kings looked between themselves. "I'll talk to him."

Oz took Lucien into an adjacent waiting room.

"Oz, correct?" Lucien asked.

"Yes."

"What is this supposed security threat?"

"The Aquino family is behind Vicky's murder. I've been having premonitions about her death, so my girlfriend and I have been looking into it in hopes we save her. However, the Aquino caught on and kidnapped us. Dahlia explained to us that she and her family plan to use Vicky as a weapon against you, and more worrisome, Damien, to overthrow your rule," Oz explained.

Lucien rubbed his face with concern. "This is a dire accusation. This is something we go to war over."

"The Aquino already plan to do that. It seems you don't have a lot of options here," Oz countered.

"What proof do you have? How do I know I can trust you?"

"Vera and Vicky have robbed three dozen banks with CCTV, guards, and alarm systems, and never once have they been even suspected, and yet a lab, where they executed the same precautions, somehow figured out their identities and location, and then killed Vicky. Do you think that's coincidental?"

"... I see your point," Lucien replied. "This is… this is awful."

"Lucien, I understand it's a lot to take in, but we need to begin preparations as soon as possible. Do you have someone who can begin something, anything, while you're here to comfort your son?"

"I do. Thank you, Oz. I need to make a quick phone call, and then I'll come back."

"Of course. Thank you."

Oz returned to his friends and paced in the waiting room as they waited for news on Scott's condition. Some hours later, they were approached by the surgeon.

"I'm glad to announce Mister Howl survived the operation without any complications. He will need to stay overnight in case there are any hiccups with his blood transfusion, but we are optimistic about his prognosis. If you like, you may visit him."

They were guided into Scott's room. He was intubated and pale, but his vitals were stable and lively.

Oz breathed a sigh of relief. At least something had gone right that day.

---

The morning of Vicky's funeral, Damien was stiff.

He rolled off of Brian and grunted as he made way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then eat something.

"Damien, why are you up already?"

Damien looked up to see Stan and Lucien in the doorway. Stan was still in pajamas, but Lucien was fully dressed. It was unusual for either of them to be even remotely dressed at that hour.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

Stan nervously glanced to Lucien.

"Unfortunately, there's an emergency on the outskirts I have to attend to," Lucien explained.

"You're the only one going?"

"Yes. But I should be back before the ceremony."

Damien grimly nodded. Border disputes weren't handled by either king. Perhaps the Minister of Border Land was out.

Stan sat at the island. "How do you feel?" he asked. Damien shrugged. He missed Vicky, but he said that every day since her death. "I wish I could do more. I do, Damien. I cared very much about Vicky as well."

Damien's lip wobbled and he wiped his eyes. He didn’t feel any different since the first day she died, but all that meant was he hurt like an open wound.

“It feels wrong without her. The more I think about it, the more it hurts.”

“Yes, but she left pieces of her with you and Brian. I’m sure you remember how much she loved you,” Stan said. Damien nodded. “I know it’s not a lot, but she loved you so much, and that is something that will never die.”

Damien smiled at his dad. He appreciated the effort, but Stan’s reassurance didn’t change how badly he ached. Damien could only hope the funeral would soothe him.

---

Brian woke up alone and it felt like the air was thin. He stumbled into the hallway, gasped for air, he tried to find Damien, but the LaVey’s basement suite was built like a surreal, inescapable nightmare where Brian was doomed to circle the hallway until his death. He braced himself against the wall and tried to convince himself to calm down so he could find a way out.

Voices came from beyond the door Brian was beside. He turned his gaze to watch it.

“Mugandr,” Lucien’s muffled snarl came, “exactly how is Vicky alive? Her head was blown to pieces.”

“Her body was, but her condemned soul remained intact.”

“Then we would have been notified of her entrance into Hell!”

“Your Majesty, please quiet down. I understand why this upsets you but our conversation may not be private.”

Lucien sighed. “Nonetheless, why weren’t we notified of her death and damnation?”

“It’s likely her soul was intercepted. I’ve looked into it and… Your Majesty, I’m sorry to tell you this, but Oz and Zoe were right, it is the Aquino family. I found correspondence with the drug manufacturers detailing who attacked them and where to find Vicky, and ingredients to summon the dead.”

Wood snapped inside of Lucien’s room. Brian slapped his hands over his mouth to stifle his yelp. “Unbelievable!” he bellowed. “Mugandr, summon Oz and Zoe to the Divinator’s Room immediately and keep this between the two of us.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Brian made a run for it before he was discovered. It felt like he swallowed molasses. Vicky was alive? What did Dahlia’s family want with her? Why did it have to be a secret? Why wouldn’t Oz and Zoe tell him if Vicky was alive?

He ran straight into Damien in his maelstrom of confusion. He was grabbed before he fell.

“Brian,” Damien said, “what’s wrong? You look like shit.”

Brian panted wordlessly before he threw his arms around Damien. He wished he was dreaming. He wanted to wake up with Damien and Vicky, safe and sound, where he didn’t feel like the world was crashing around him.

“Babe, what’s wrong? You’re freaking me out.”

Reluctantly, Brian whispered, “I think your dads are keeping secrets,” he said. “I think… I think Vicky’s death is bigger than we think it is.”

Damien pushed Brian out of the crook of his neck and scowled perplexedly. “What the fuck do you mean they’re keeping secrets?”

“I-I couldn’t find you, and then I overheard Lucien talking with this Mugandr guy about Vicky. They were saying stuff like they didn’t have any record about her entering Hell, and that Oz and Zoe knew about this, a-and the Aquino summoned her soul. He wanted to keep it a secret.”

“I’m sure it was just a bad dream.”

“Damien, listen to me!” Brian snapped. “Something’s wrong! This is bigger than we realize.”

Damien’s lip curled. “Get your head out of your ass, Brian! Vicky’s gone. She’s not coming back. And don’t you ever fucking say my dads are lying to me! They wouldn’t ever do that!”

“Listen, Damien,” Brian grabbed Damien’s shoulders. Damien knocked his hands away.

“Fuck off! You’re being a huge asshole right now, dude! Don’t fucking talk to me until you get your shit together.”

Damien stormed away. Brian was left breathless yet again.

---

Damien stared into the mirror. His tuxedo felt ill-fit.

It was the tux he went to prom and homecoming in. He went to one of his aunt’s weddings in it too. All three occasions, Vicky was with him in that pretty polka-dot dress and a big smile. The mere memory was enough to make Damien tear up.

The only other time he got to wear it with Vicky was at her funeral.

Stan entered his room. “Damien…” he said, “are you ready?”

“Dad, I don’t think I can do this.”

Damien’s father hugged him. “I know it’s hard. But Brian needs you, and you need this too. This ceremony will give you closure.”

He couldn’t meet Stan’s gaze. He couldn’t even return his father’s hug. What Brian mentioned about Vicky haunted him, even as he mourned. He tried to tell himself Brian only had a bad dream. His parents would never hide something as enormous as that from him.

“Let’s go,” Stan said. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be there for both of you.”

Damien’s heart fell into his gut. “What about Dad?”

“Lucien’s attending to a land dispute.”

“Still? That’s odd. I thought those were handled by the Minister of Borders.”

“Ordinarily. However, this involves the Aquino Family. Lucien’s there to make sure it’s addressed delicately.”

Damien felt sick as he followed Stan. His father was a terrible liar. Was Brian right about Vicky and his fathers? It had to be impossible, yet the events of the last couple of hours begged to differ.

---

Oz held Zoe’s hand as they ran. Her dress was hiked up to her crotch as they ran up and up the tower. “I cannot believe he’s doing this now of all times!” Oz screamed. “The funeral is in two hours.”

“We’ll be fine, Oz. Lucien won’t miss his son’s girlfriend’s fucking funeral,” said Zoe as they stormed up the weathered stone steps.

When they reached the top, Zoe knocked upon the heavy door. It opened and they were heaved inside and surrounded by the smoke of Biggleworts to ward off the prying eyes of magic. Oz took a deep breath.

“I’m glad you two have come,” Lucien said. He gestured to the bony creature with the skull of a snake. “That is Mungandr, my most trusted associate.”

“I don’t care. Just make this quick, I would like to comfort my friends,” Oz said.

“I’m sure you’d like Vicky back more.”

“You found her?” Oz gasped.

“Yes and no. We know she is in the care of the Aquino,” Lucien explained. Oz wanted to break something. “We need you to find her and bring her back. You’ll have Mungandr to help. His magic will prove useful.”

Oz looked to Zoe.

“You need to go,” she said to him. “I will stay for Brian and Damien, but you need to go save Vicky.”

He nodded. “Apologize to our friends for me.”

“I will. Promise me you’ll be safe.”

Oz cupped Zoe’s face. “I’ll come back to you with Vicky. I promise you.”

#monster prom #vicky schmidt #damien lavey #brian yu #stan lavey #lucien lavey #vera oberlin #blobert #liam de lioncourt #oz monster prom #zoe monster prom #brian/damien/vicky #oz/zoe

[itsicantbelievethis666]

A Cunning Woman and a Demon -Chapter 2

1970 words. There is little to no NSFW stuff in this chapter but, as I’ve said, that’s likely to come later. For those who may have missed the first chapter, here’s the link. 

A special thank you to the following:

@new-zealand-chic @deepdisireslonging @trent7thirsting @xprincessofthefallenangels @demonkingsangel @writtingrose  @sjwrites22 @writinglionqueen @superrezzy00 @kallirevenne @neversatisfiedgirlfics @neversatisfiedgirl @sjwrites22 @theworldofotps @tacoshuimagines @writing-reigns @baratomaya @devittsslut @the-carter-mob-don @evilangel84 

For the first night in a very, very long time, I sleep well enough to dream. No shocks of pain or terror jolt me awake; the old horrors of the darkness, of seeing Bray Wyatt’s face in front of me, are largely absent. The warmth from my young companion, the bed of straw and the added cover of our robes give me rest.

I dream of home – at least, the home I had made myself of the tiny little cabin I had found in the woods. I can see the simple shape, the Spartan furnishings that keep me sheltered and warm, the garden that feeds me and keeps me healthy, the little details that make it mine. In my mind’s eye, I can see the beds of medicinal flowers and herbs, the dark and dense trees that surround it, the brook running about a dozen yards beside it. I can see the quilt over my bed, the notebooks of my learning on the table, the simple little tools of the craft in their drawer, the crucifix on the wall to remind me that I’m not alone.  And I wonder – what it must be like now, whether it would be fit for me to live in, whether my fireflies have survived my absence.

My Fireflies – Oh, God! I remember inviting them in during a storm, then immediately recognizing in them something of myself. Whether they are the conjurations of my mind’s eye or the actual spirits of those I never knew but would have loved, they were welcome denizens of my little world. Ever since, they were always nearby – until I was taken and brought here. That I could dream of them now, and of home, is the unwitting gift of my captors, along with this new cellmate of mine.

Finn’s warmth next to me is the first comfort I’ve had in this place. Looking upon him, as my eyes open to the dim but growing light outside the barred window, brings me the first inklings of joy. He has leaned in against me, his hooded face seeming almost childlike, despite the beard. His arm is casually draped over me. It’s been some time since I’ve shared a bed, and never with one like this. Something underneath the last remnants of Wyatt’s sorcery is stirring, but such things are beyond me for the foreseeable future.

His soul is bright with virtues – brighter than mine ever was, and infinitely brighter than Wyatt’s. Throughout, there is an earnestness in him, an eagerness to connect and to build. I sense a spot of darkness in him as well – packaged tightly away, throbbing as though fighting to get out. I see the occasional furrow of his brow as he sleeps, as though in struggle. Is it the brightness that took the craft into him, or the pocket of darkness? Is that the demon I saw?

I owe Finn a debt – a huge one. He’s saved me from the corrupted spell of imprisoning Wyatt had cast; he’s freed me from the pain of the unnatural bends and twists of my limbs inside it; he’s healed me, largely, the last remnants notwithstanding. He’s taken to the craft already. He learned to restore before I had to repeat the incantation a third time. He has the gift of reception, at least; transferral won’t take long to cultivate. I will gladly teach him what I know, if he is willing. That, and what hospitality I can offer him when we leave here, might touch a shadow of returning what I owe him.

I hear footsteps above us. I know the routine by heart, even though until last night I was utterly blind and helpless and unknowing of my surroundings. Harper and Rowan are preparing thin gruel; it is what comes for me, at least. They will be here shortly to torment me with my portion, then to watch me choose survival over dignity and laugh. If Wyatt is not here to oversee them, they may try to make Finn and me “fight” for it. But they will know something is up if they see us both on the straw.  

Quietly, I crawl over Finn as he sleeps. He stirs, then tightens into a ball on the straw, pulling the hood over his head. I make soft footfalls to the middle of the cell, then enclose myself into the robe and lie down on the floor, trying hard to keep small and look broken. I then remember that Finn and I had swapped robes and that the one I now wear is somewhat smaller, and a darker colour.

Finn. A plan has taken shape in my mind. Join me. Quietly.

The robed figure on the straw quickly pops up onto hands and knees and crawls over towards me. He has heard the sounds upstairs. “Dey’re comin’,” he says. “What shall we do?”

They’ll be forced to step further into the cell than they may like. But curiosity will get the better of them. Pretend you’re me before you healed me.

He tucks his arms and legs into the depths of the robe as he lies next to me. “I don’t know if I can be much help against one o’ dem, let ‘lone de two.”

You’ll be fine, I answered. You’ve done more for me already than I can list. Now, perhaps, I can pay some small recompense for your kindness.

The footfalls above move from wood to stone, growing louder. The shouting begins from the top of the stairs. “Hey, little rabbit! Wakey-wakey! Time for grub!”

The door smashes against the wall as it opens, echoing through the cell and seemingly the entire building. Two sets of footsteps announce that both Harper and Rowan have arrived. Two mounds of sackcloth in the middle of the cell floor, however, greet their arrival in silence. I can tell they’re confused. I’m able to peek out from under the hood unnoticed.

“Hey, was Brother Bray here last night and done the same to the rabbit as to Abigail?” Rowan lays two bowls near the head of the straw. He isn’t exactly stupid, just too eager to give to Wyatt what didn’t belong to him.

“He’s too far away from here yet to put that kind of mojo on the little rabbit,” Harper replied, stepping closer to us. “We had to knock her out for him to put it on her while he was in the room with her.”

The memory came flooding back: he knew his magic wasn’t strong enough to deal anywhere near equally to me, so a blow from one of these two to the back of my neck was the first step in what they did to me. The robe next to me is quivering. Finn, my friend. Calm…. I know what to do with these two.

“Then he’s hiding under one of these,” says Rowan, who joins Harper, then gives a firm boot to Finn.

As Finn sucks in his breath from the kick, I mumble a new incantation; one I’ll not have time to teach Finn until we’ve left this place. Immediately, Rowan is thrown against the wall, landing with a thud on the straw. Harper follows him. I promptly then stand up and remove the hood.

“Vinctum,” is the only word the two lunks hear from me. Their arms and legs slap together as if two limbs are in one sleeve, and their backs are adhered to the wall. To my companion I add, The spell will hold them only until we leave the jail; after that we’ll have to run. Follow me.  

Together we leave the cell, slamming the door shut behind us. Ignoring their shouts, I lead Finn along the short hallway to the wooden stairs, scanning the periphery of our route.

Bursting through the door at the top of the stairs, we find the main room of the jail strewn with furniture. We quickly rummage through every drawer and every pile on every table, grabbing what we can use, until we come to the heavy wooden wardrobe behind one desk. Leaning against it is a hefty woodaxe.

My companion has been silent this whole time, but clearly frustrated. I could see in his eyes what the cell below would have looked like had he had his way. I hand him the axe. “Would you like to do the honours?”

“I’d be glad to,” he replied. He lifts it to look closely at the head, then grips the handle with both hands and swings it against one of the wardrobe’s doors. It splinters; the dry wood gives way easily under the axe head and loosens the latches keeping the cabinet locked. The latches fall with a tinkle to the floor and the doors swing partway open from the force of the blow. He pulls back and smashes the doors again and again, with each blow a yell of rage, until a pile of splinters has grown at our feet.

Inside lie a black leather jacket and a hard-sided suitcase. Next to them are my floral dress and my canvas backpack. Our shoes – his boots, my house sandals - sit at the bottom, along with a few odds and ends. Finn quickly snaps open the locks on the case, pulls out and dons a black T-shirt and dark blue twill pants. Meanwhile, I throw off the robe, grab the dress, then take a quick breath before throwing it over myself, smoothing it down and covering it with the robe, then strapping on the sandals. We give a quick last examination of the room, grab the first aid kit and the lunch boxes sitting near the remaining closed door, and swing it open to find a wooded path and an overcast sky.

We run. The path is covered with old leaves damp from dew, but to either side are the dense brush and undergrowth through which we might find our way away from the jailhouse, before the two companions and followers of Bray Wyatt are able to catch our trail. My companion is taller than I am; and my sandals are not quite adequate to the task, so my pace is slower. Nonetheless, I know these woods, and can conceive a myriad ways to move quickly from here to safety.

I duck into the brush and down a small incline just as I hear them stamping out of the building, farther and farther behind us as we dip and weave through the bushes and stumps, deeper and deeper and deeper, until we spot the brook and follow it upstream to a small waterfall. We are home, or near it; I climb the rocks to the crest and stop dead at a burned-out clearing, the trees ringing round it skeletal, the ground ashen. The air is silent except for the brook. Finn follows, looks around and gives a low whistle.

“He wants you gone,” he says, looking over the long-charred ruins of my little hovel and all that had surrounded it. “Dat’s what dis look like.”

I feel nothing. I knew Wyatt would try to erase me completely. This – this is something else, however. My absence was long enough that all should have grown over with grass, or ferns, or some tendrils of life to reclaim it for its own. Yet, nothing of life has even approached this spot in the years since he imprisoned me. This was a warning: an atrocity.

I step slowly, further along the brook, closer to the wreckage, until I see the final insult Wyatt has added to the injury. A sealed, half-blackened Mason jar sits, deliberately arranged, in what would have been the middle of the floor of my home. All at once, the unmitigated weight of Bray’s torment descends on me and I collapse, catatonic, to the ruined forest floor.

#wwe #finn balór #finn balor #bray wyatt #sister abigail #erick rowan #luke harper #ramblinrabbit

[deviationdivine]

Even Until There Is No End (RK900|Request!)

TLDR: The horrors of Cyberlife never seem to fade even after the revolution...

Word Count: 2,460

TW: Angst, Violence & Character Death (I don't know how it went there)

A/N: Prompts: 36. “They’re monsters.” & 2. “Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.” | Ahhh! Your comments make my year! Hope this turns out the way you like! Thanks so much for dropping me a prompt exchange. :) My queue is open!

How can it end like this? 

A question swirling around in your brain ever since news broke about an incursion orchestrated by the very people who pretend to integrate with public opinion. The war was won. Androids were no longer at the mercy of persecution and everyone waited in baited breath about the outcome involving Cyberlife. 

Following the revolution they proposed a peaceful continuation of the company. Skepticism is ripe for the picking. This isn’t just something androids were leery of. Humans, civilians having nothing to do with it, voicing questions.

Cyberlife never answers. They did now.

Your breath catches. More you attempt to find a flaw in this lab in order to escape the less hopeful. 

Why throw you here in the first place? Easy. This is a higher level. Anyone who tries to get in will face a bigger accumulation of guards. Those same men who... 

Tears threaten but nothing spills readily. People have died and you are bait. 

“Nines,” you whisper defeated. 

He went deviant too. Like so many others. 

Cyberlife waits and waits to concoct a scheme. Now it’s in full swing because Detroit is chaos. Never imagined this will somehow be worse. It is. It is so much worse.

Connor is already gone. Everything is in shambles and it is all due to those...

Your head rises quickly. Shouting echoes down corridor becoming louder, closer up until thunderous pops of gunfire eclipse the original cacophony. 

Pounding floods your ears. This time it’s an erratic heartbeat and everything tingles in a swath of dread. Sweeping down head to toe increases discomfort not that you’ve had a pleasant time here. 

Apprehended like this despite being part of the DPD is ridiculous itself. When there are multiple security guards armed to the teeth there isn’t much proper training can do to alleviate that situation. Unless dying is what you want to do.

Makes you sicker knowing. Several officers cut down in cold blood. What is this all for except Cyberlife’s unwillingness to allow freedom for everyone to live together. Accomplishing another megalomaniac plan to control or eradicate and this time everyone’s caught. 

Crossfire is a horrific thing. Innocent people will suffer the most. 

As your thoughts swirl in this entrapment it’s obvious why. Part of you felt as much when they took you alive. 

All of this started when responding to a generic emergency call. Ambushed. They knew. Somehow they manage to take you knowing that he-

The noise stops. It ceases everything even your thought because the door busts open under a powerful kick. Shrinking back on hard surface of table doesn’t last because nothing can make you flinch away now. 

“Y/N.” The RK900 moves swiftly through lab. 

“Nines.” The strangling whisper accompanies your spring up to feet. How did he even…? Your body molds with his as a key in a lock. It will always open because these two parts are of one whole. “They’re monsters.” 

“Hey, hey, calm down.” His words soothe in a gentler less stiff timbre. Perhaps it is a bit more human than he realizes but this moment does not offer much time for analysis. With you in his arms it is far more imperative to protect, comfort. “They can’t hurt you anymore.” 

Soft promises make your legs weak. Exhaustion eats away at your body. Only the firm sheltering embrace of your android lover keeps you afloat. Strange but this is the first time you realize how painstakingly soft he is. 

Only in privacy far from prying eyes; Nines never wants to outwardly show affection for eye witnesses. He feels it’s none of their concern. 

Why should he do that when he shows you how much emotion exists in your private sanctuary? You find it typical. Or so you did…

This means more. Even if he took out several guards to stop an audience at this point it really wouldn’t matter. Somehow this tells you how much Nines really loves you. There is no hesitation. Certain things just evaporate the fog of doubt encasing your heart and clear the way. 

Peering into his face, gripping up onto broad shoulders serves as an anchor. All that’s on your mind now is how happy you are seeing him in one piece. After what they did to Connor –

His lips meet yours in urgency. Pulling both of you flush together settles indicator into flickering amber a drop from its initial scarlet warning because you are safe. He does not say it aloud. 

Unspoken, intense and full of pure emotion the android cradles you as a delicate flower petal. Wild and untamed blowing in the wind and his presence abates its wilting chill.

“Nines.” Breathing up into his lips says everything and nothing at all. “Thank God you…”

“Step away from the human, RK900!” 

Jolting back from Nines at the cutting demand fills your lungs in a shock of breath. Connor? 

An immediate aim of handgun in your direction answers before you know what’s happening. A shove forces you out of range putting you in contact with one of those lab tables. Stabilizing on two feet is too late to act further. 

RK900 grimaces in the path of fire. Preventing deadly precision striking in a vital area that will surely lead to your death, the android absorbs gunshot. The quick action allows a useful shield to protect. 

A moment after he staggers in a collapse. Thudding to wall brings the advanced android down in a slide. Knocking every thread out of his system it is immediate:

Error

Critical Malfunction

Imminent Shutdown

Even so the sound of your terrified voice fills his core. “Nines! No!” 

Frantic hands clutch at the front of his white jacket. Sinking down automatically brings you close on knees pressing hands over a hole in his sweater torn from gunshot. Blue blood stains your skin creating a sickening drop pit of stomach. It’s visceral. A grisly hue means life ebbing away and he is alive. He is.

He’s hit where his thirium pump is. It’s obvious from how horribly Nines slumped. Never did you ever imagine seeing him crumble in such a way. Not him. Not the very powerful storm that sweeps you away along his torrent. 

Exactly what describes that initial attraction you held meeting him. Eye of the storm in steel unmakes you each night in his fiery regard. He can weather any tempest because he is that gale. There is nothing more you love.

“Faster, stronger,” the other android mocks effectively.

Coward! He shoots Nines when he’s distracted. That’s the only reason! He-he put himself in the way. No, he can’t do this.

“More resilient,” the duplicate continues unnecessarily smug. “But not for me.”

Tears blind in a messy streak unable to see this fake clearly. Instead he resembles a blur, a nightmare figment seemingly crawling out of the depths of every one of your darkest fears. The idea this thing is identical to Connor makes insides churn to the point of retching.

Never would the soft doe-eyed android hurt Nines. They held a peculiar relationship but in the end developed an understanding. This is not Connor. It even isn’t the one you heard about from the warehouse.

“Nines! Nines, look at me.” 

Desperately cupping his face drew his crystalline gaze, icy but never frigid when he looks at you now. “Y/N…”

“No.” You choke on that plea. “Please, don’t leave me.”

The android behind you watches in disinterest. Brandishing weapon in steady footsteps brings him closer. “Why do humans like you wish to sacrifice for a machine? We do not feel anything.”

Anger twists the anguish in your features. Throwing a sharp glance up at the faux Connor evaporates all of this fear riddling your heart. “You don’t feel! Connor, Nines…they felt! They’re alive.” Were alive. 

Liquid spilling from the ducts of your eyes forces a grimace on the goading duplicate’s face. Tears shed over a filthy deviant when he is loyal to their creators. 

There is no denying this connection between machine and human is unsettling. It is enough to watch and feel a strange pull center of his chest. The loyal machine steps back in a huff against that unfamiliar sensation.

“Cyberlife will win,” the faux Connor promises. “All of these deviants will be destroyed. But…you may leave.”

Leave? As if that’s even an option! “No,” you sneer. “I’m not going anywhere!”

“Y/N.” Grabbing onto wrist breaks your heated exchange with Connor’s doppelganger. Nines looks to you with something far different in his once stoic shell. There is only you. “Go. My Flower.”

What is he-? “Nines, I won’t leave you.” 

“I am shutting down,” he is blunt. To be unkind is not his motive but to save you still. “I-I love you.”

Always in your heart you knew it was true. While he may not have said those words before everything he ever did was a sign. Now they crush whatever is left of a soul because he is yours. How can this happen?

Please, please wake up! 

This is a nightmare. All of this cannot be real. Unfortunately all the pleading in the world can’t undo reality. 

“Listen to your deviant lover. You were taken as a tool to use in a lure. We have no further need of you.” 

Thinking on how much time Nines has left fuels brand new determination. You rise to feet. Moving towards the fake Connor, heart hammering in chest, there’s something gleaming just under the surface. When he made this offer to let you go it clicks. 

Machine he says. Loyal to Cyberlife who are nothing more than mass murderers at this point; you reach up to place hands against the clone’s chest.

Issue jacket with Cyberlife branding as Connor once wore but he stopped. This is the only sign needed to know this is not your friend. 

The android stutters. Physically jolting from your touch it leaves his LED a flood of crimson. “What game are you playing?”

“Proving a point,” the response is dangerous to his unfeeling self. It’s in his eyes. He’s…afraid.

You squeeze eyes shut not to look when pulling the clone into you. Kissing him hastily brings a hand down to his. Fingers stretch for handgun, ready to snag and blow his head off. 

Yet your movement knocks off kilter when this supposed unfeeling machine grabs on. Pressing a harsher, hungrier kiss back sinks your entire plan and self preservation. 

All instinct to pull away kicks in as your ruse seemingly backfires. Until he thrusts you off himself both incensed at his participation and privy to where your hand grabs. 

In a split second the gun goes off striking faux Connor in the shoulder. A heavy swat of arm knocking you down is what you receive harshly in return. The frazzled android’s attention on your trickery completely fails. 

The RK900 locks a crushing arm around the machine’s neck. Coming up behind while your actions wrestle weapon away it is the only preconstruction offering high probability of success.

Holding upright onto the RK800 copy as much as struggling to gain upper hand careens them both into clinical table. Thirium stains the faux Connor’s jacket where Nines continues to lose volume. 

Shutdown 1 min 23 seconds

A crack of knuckles connects revealing the white plastic beneath. Marring synthetic flesh clean off the duplicate’s cheek reveals more of the machine he so readily claims to be. Even with all those parts, circuitry exposing true internal clockwork, androids can be more living than other organisms. 

Deviancy is not weakness. 

Nines remembers. You told him that once. And that is what gives him strength while tearing open faux Connor’s shirt and ripping thirium pump cleanly from its port. 

A gasp escapes where you pick yourself up off floor. Their skirmish hardly lasts but those seconds feel an eternity. Watching the phony twitch, attempt to crawl and swipe fingers out at Nines brings his digits in a vice on the android’s black shoe. 

The same sole pulls free and crushes down atop the so-called loyal machine’s digits. Loyalty you disproved with a ruse that ultimately destroys him.

“Nines?” Your voice is thick. Watching him hunch over, tossing away stuttering red glowing pump, his back straightens stiffly in an all too human huff of artificial breath. 

RK900 blinks. Processing, analyzing his system status. For now he is able to function to complete his mission: you.   

“The RK800 is backwards compatible,” he explains, clearly seeing your tear stained face and no longer blind to critical warnings. 

Backwards compatible? Why didn’t he say that?! You thought maybe in an act of desperation but there was no way of knowing for sure. 

“Oh my God.” Part of you wants to punch him in the shoulder for that but the simple urgency to bury within his chest overwhelms. “I’m sorry.” 

Murmuring quietly does not prevent RK900 hearing every catch in breath that spills from your lips, ones that he must reclaim over and over again after that pathetic clone. However, he is hardly irate on account of the dire circumstance. 

“Don’t worry. I believe you are quite efficient.” 

Praise from mister stoicism? That’s funny. Too bad it’s not in a normal situation because you would laugh. Thankfully there is a chance to do that again. With him it’s all you want. 

“Are you OK, Nines? Tell me, please…”

A tug to his synthetic heart turns the advanced model into everything he originally fought against. At one time he held similar thoughts to the Cyberlife machine. Emotions cannot be for his kind nor will they invade his system. 

Now you invade every single circuit. Each thread yearns to fuse itself with the core spirit of your body. This will not change that. He will destroy all who threaten to remove this one humane light. 

“I am fully operational until I receive a proper repair.” Nines narrows eyes onto the fallen android while speaking softly. 

The tremble in your body is all too apparent. Shock is a high probability despite how strong, savvy you behaved. It is an interesting ruse you manage but why must he question skills while in the same employment? 

“The DPD is in the middle of everything. A chaotic turn of events,” cool sarcasm benefits your state. Discussing this will come later. He realizes his near death will have emotional and mental consequences. 

“You are safe now. I-I will take you home with me.”

Any other case or important life threatening scenario and he would wind up staying. This time is different. He has something to lose. That something is remarkably you.

One thing is true. You didn’t lose him now. You can’t lose him ever. No matter what comes of this there is only the RK900′s shield to harbor you until the end.

#dbh #detroit become human #rk900 x reader #dbh rk900 x reader #nines x reader #rk800-60 #ish #dbh nines #dbh prompts #dbh requests #dbh even until there is no end #machine connor #angst #violence #fluff end #this took a turn #escalated quickly #i almost went full angst there for a sec #next time maybe #elydith request