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demonicintegrity · 4 years

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Thoughts from Homeworld Bound: Diamond edition

Okay I know how everyone realized the change your mind arc was kind of rushed, and how a lot of people felt like the Diamonds redemption was forced or just not very well fleshed out. This episode really fills that gap in. So long post incoming ft. Me because awake at 4 in the morning because of being startled awake and can’t go to bed.

Firstly, Yellow! Everyone’s already drawn the lines between the Diamonds’ powers flipping (and thus, how Pink did that going into Rose and how Steven is doing now) so I’m gonna focus on other things. I think Yellow is probably the most “redeemed” of the three. Yes, she and the other Diamonds just wanted to be close to Steven in the movie, but I think she’s moved past that point and improving because *she* wants to.

First it’s being all polite/not hurting/etc. then it’s her looking at her experiments and going “well that was cruel of me. Better make amends to that.” I doubt that was any outside influence coaxing her to do that. What takes it one step further is it’s not just making amends, it’s “hey I have this ability to help! Steven tell your friends if they want to get rid of their horns I’ll help them!” Which isn’t connected to her. (Well it is because she had a part in the corruption but it also really isn’t her problem to tackle beyond uncorrupting them) Yellows got some empathy to her now! She’s always had feelings but had the repressed to deal with Blue and get her work done. Now her tackling some new projects seems to be her way to working on improving her feelings towards herself and just in general. She seemed really happy and content! It also shows again how much of a work person she is, always wanting to do something. It use to be a schedule booked to the brim with checking on new batches of gems, colonizing, diplomatic matters, but now it’s one gem repairment after another. Which is pretty dedicated might I add?? Dude is finding as many shards as she can across multiple mini clusters to put them together. That’s dedication. That’s why out of all the Diamonds I think her redemption is most clear and most likely to please people.

Not to say the other Diamonds don’t have their redemption arc addressed too. Blue’s whole thing was “I’m in pain so you should be too” which is really selfish but also really relatable to a lot of people in many situations. Even if you’re not in grief, being severely hurt does make you want to lash out- which is why I think she was the fan-favorite for so long. She was sympathetic. Anyways, now that she’s happy she wants to make other gems happy too! Which is a noble intention to have and an amazing one to carry out. Blue making others happy show just how empathetic she can be, now in a good way. It seems very simple, give people a cloud and let them be happy- insert weed joke here- but it’s a bit more than that? She’s opened herself up to every gem and basically went “everything has hurt, everything might still hurt, let’s take a break from that and feel good.” Which is a very valid feeling to have, people often need a break from feeling bad to even consider getting better and that’s what Blue (and thus medication) represent. Yea she’s now the stoner mom, but because she’s not one to figure out the intricacies and nuances to solve. She just wants gems to feel better. Overall this makes her arc feel weird at first- because it seems to be the most “simple” of Diamonds but it turns out to suit her well. She’s well versed in emotions and was even wise enough to see that when her happy clouds don’t work, it’s probably something with Steven’s self-respect that needs addressing. Which has been an untackled part of Steven, how he has complicated feelings about himself and that includes how he has a hard time respecting himself when he’s not doing good all the time.

Then, White. The one every person felt was rushed and generally was just off. We saw in the movie she really did just want Steven, a connection to Pink, someone to tell her what to do, etc. so for her to open up and do things on her own is her doing the most in personal growth. She does this charity things on her own now, much as yellow and blue does, but it’s the most personal to her. Specifically with self respect and ones role in life, she was completely at a lost after CYM. She was hurt at not being perfect, hurt because of the pain she put on her family, and very much lost on what to do. Her figuring out how to manage all that is very difficult but also very telling at how much she’s grown. Her power to let gems use her body to “talk to themselves” and reflect is very personal, which is not only why she asks for consent from herself and the other party, but also shows how she’s grown from this dictator completely detached from her peers to *literally* seeing and feeling their perspective. It likely made her very uncomfortable at first, but her sticking with it shows she was persistent in learning how the other gems were feeling and how determine she was to make herself of use to them. I think while Yellow and Blue’s redemption arc are likely complete, White’s is probably more ongoing as she continues to humble herself through feeling different gem’s perspective. Also, Spinel!WD was visually terrifying despite being very comedic and no you can’t change my mind on that. What the hell.

Then of course there’s the obvious line drawn with the Diamonds being the most common coping mechanisms. Yellow is in physical appearance, though I also think it’s about her giving herself something to do. Doing something is a great way to relieve stress and feel better, which Yellow does a lot. Blue is drugs and how they make you feel happy- but not always complete. This is true for those who self-medicate with weed but also thought who’ve been prescribed antidepressants. Despite making you happy, it’s not the only thing you have to do get better. It doesn’t make you whole and in Steven’s case it doesn’t address the problem head on despite it being nice. Then there’s white, who represents meditation as well as introspection. Reflecting on yourself , whether you do it through meditating or by other means, helps you work through your emotions and also what exactly is the source of the problem. It helps you gain perspective on yourself and your situation and is useful for figuring out what you need to do in order to get better. Meditation is often the slapstick solution to many mental issues nowadays, but for those who can do it it can be very beneficial. It’s a good pair for white because it’s something not for everyone, as she doesn’t stick with all viewers well, but is still a good lesson nonetheless.

The best thing about the Diamonds showing different coping mechanisms is how they nicely show the good of it all and also how sometimes it’s not enough. Physical appearance doesn’t solve your issues, being happy doesn’t always address your issues, and introspection is really hard especially if you have intrusive thoughts. It’s a good show how these three in harmony are needed to improve one’s mental state, and that the balance is different for everyone. It’s also a good show how each Diamond has a role to play in improving all gems quality of life in Era 3.

Despite being a roller coaster of emotions, the episode does a great job showing what said coping mechanisms can do for you. Using Steven and Spinel as that catalyst of how it *can* help and what it *can* do vs what it can’t shows the viewer a lot. The Diamonds clearly helped spinel get a lot better, but it’s not quite enough for Steven, and that’s okay. For having to keep it all in 11 minutes it’s really well done!

Also, Steven needs therapy. Someone help him. I’m not okay. He’s not okay.

#long post #rambles #steven universe future

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

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Across The Snowy Places (5 /5)

And so the trope-alicious trope-fest comes to an end. Thus far we have seen: fake dating, bed sharing, matchmaking, snowed in, heater not working, favourite author, found families, and drunken affection/confession. Now it’s time for some mistaken first impressions and of course the happy ending!

I’ve loved writing this very silly thing, and especially loved the enthusiastic response it’s received from all you lovely people. Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

SUMMARY: Desperate to avoid another disastrous setup, Emma Swan tells her sister-in-law Mary Margaret she doesn’t need a date for Thanksgiving dinner… because she’s dating her neighbour, Killian Jones. The neighbour she tries to avoid but can’t seem to get out of her head.

Killian has been captivated by Emma from the moment they met, and he’s thrilled at this opportunity to get closer to her. But when they are trapped in a freak snowstorm in a room with only one bed, can he finally take the chance he’s been longing for, or will his actions drive Emma away forever?

In other words: TROPES GALORE

On AO3 | Tumblr Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4

For my favouritest person @thisonesatellite who is never less than the best despite her VERY SUBTLE reactions to things.

@kmomof4 @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @darkcolinodonorgasm @snowbellewells @stahlop @mariakov81 @courtorderedcake @jonirobinson64 @tiganasummertree @ohmightydevviepuu @shardminds @jennjenn615 @superchocovian

CHAPTER FIVE: SATURDAY

Slowly, carefully, Emma removes Killian’s hand from where it rests against the bare skin of her stomach and slides out of the bed. She’s instantly freezing, not because the room is that cold but just from the loss of Killian’s warmth. She wishes she could crawl back in with him, curl up against him and feel his arms around her. But she remembers just enough of the night before to know that can never happen.

She grabs her sweater and pulls it on over Mary Margaret’s pajamas and slips through the door and downstairs to the kitchen. Her head is pounding and she’s desperate for coffee.

Mary Margaret is already in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and humming Christmas songs.

“Hey,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful.” Emma collapses into a chair and cradles her head in her hands. “Is there coffee?”

“Of course.” Mary Margaret pours her a cup and loads it with milk and sugar. “No cinnamon syrup,” she says. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m more interested in the caffeine,” says Emma, wrapping her hands around the mug and leaning her aching temple against it.

Mary Margaret returns her attention to the dishwasher. “Where’s Killian?” she asks.

“Still asleep.”

“Thanks for bringing him yesterday,” says Mary Margaret. “I know you were reluctant, but we really loved getting to know him. I’m so glad you found someone you can love.”

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, fingers tight on her coffee mug.

“I don’t love Killian,” she says harshly. “We only just started dating.”

“I know, sweetie. But sometimes it doesn’t take any time at all to know you’ve found The One.”

“Ugh,” says Emma. “Not you too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ruby said the same thing to me. ‘Mulan is The One, capital letters’.”

“Well that does happen. You know that David and I knew, pretty much right away.”

“Yeah.”

“And Killian, I think he’s pretty sure.”

Emma nods. He did a great job acting sure in front of everyone. She couldn’t have asked for a better fake boyfriend. If only he actually felt the way he pretended to feel.

She blinks in surprise at that thought, sitting up straight and immediately regretting it when a fresh jolt of pain pierces her eye socket. She groans and takes a gulp of coffee, then leans her head against the cup again and tries to think. Does she want Killian’s pretend feelings to be real ones? She thinks about how nice it’s been these past two days, being the focus of his attention and interest, how much she’s truly enjoyed his company. She thinks about her poem... God, her poem.... and about Killian and the pull she’s always felt towards him… not just the physical attraction but something more... and she thinks about how she kissed him, twice, and he rejected her both times. She gulps more coffee, swallowing a stab of pain along with it. It doesn’t matter what she wants if Killian isn’t interested, and two solid rejections have made that more than clear he’s not. She can’t allow there to be a third.

Killian wishes he were surprised to find himself waking up alone. But he’s not, not at all. He knows Emma, however much she might wish he didn’t, and he knows the consequences of pushing her too hard, coming on too strong. She’s run, and he’s all too aware of what that means: if he hasn’t completely fucked up his chances with her he’s at least reduced them to nearly nothing.

He rolls onto his back, rubs his hand over his face. There’s a hollow ache in his chest, an empty feeling of loss that he tries to tell himself is absurd as he never had her to begin with. And yet the idea of going back to how things were, to the snatches of conversation in the hallway between their apartments and long stretches of not seeing her at all... now that he knows how she kisses and the feel of her skin against his... now that he knows how much she treasured his most personal poem… it’s unbearable. He’s not sure he can survive it.

He wants to go home. Back to his familiar surroundings, to his books and his kitchen, where he can hide away and lick his wounds in peace. He drags himself from the bed and changes back into his clothes, wincing a bit at wearing the same things for the third day in a row, then folds David’s pajamas neatly and places them on Emma’s bed. He scans the room to be sure he hasn’t forgotten anything and his eyes fall on his poem, lying on the floor where it must have fallen when they got into bed last night. He picks it up and stares at it until the words are a watery blur and then he blinks the tears away, carefully folds the page and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans.

He finds Emma where he expected he would, in the kitchen with Mary Margaret. She looks up as the door opens and their eyes meet. He holds his breath, half expecting her to look away, but she doesn’t and he offers her a smile, small and tentative. When she returns it he exhales in relief. It appears they’re still pretending, and he figures the least he can do is put on a good performance during his last moments as Emma’s boyfriend.

“Morning, love,” he says, giving her a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit worse for wear,” she replies. “Mary Margaret gave me some aspirin though and she’s making eggs.”

“Would you like some, Killian?” Mary Margaret offers.

“No thank you, but I’d love some coffee.”

“Of course,” she says. “How do you take it?”

“Just black.”

He takes the cup Mary Margaret offers him, removing his arm from Emma’s shoulders as he does. She feels the loss like a dagger through her heart, and when she realises that’s probably the last time Killian will ever put his arm around her she has to blink back tears.

“I’m going to go get changed,” she says. “So we can get on the road as soon as breakfast is finished. I don’t know about you, but I really want to put on some clean clothes.”

“Aye.” Killian agrees heartily.

“David and I have some things you could—” begins Mary Margaret, but Emma interrupts.

“Oh, no, don’t bother, please, it’s just another two hours in the car then we can wear our own things,” she says. “I’m just going to... go… now…” she gestures vaguely and hurries from the room.

In the privacy of her bedroom she presses the heels of her hands firmly against her eyes, forcing down the thick knot of tears rising from her throat. If she cries her eyes will be red and Mary Margaret will know something’s up. Killian will know, and she can’t bear for him to pity her. She dresses quickly and runs her fingers through her hair, takes a deep breath and as she turns to go she spots her journal lying on the small table next to her bed. On a whim she grabs it, takes it downstairs and tucks it into her bag before returning to the kitchen.

They don’t speak in the car on the way home. Killian tries to summon the will to tease her or tell her a story that will make her laugh but he can’t do it. He fears his heart may be breaking, and it takes every ounce of strength he has just to hold himself together around the brittle shards of it.

Emma just wants to forget. She thinks about getting home, putting on her own pajamas and curling up on the sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and watching movies all day and just not thinking. Not about Killian or her hopelessly tangled feelings or anything else.

She parks the car in front of their apartment building and they get out, still saying nothing. Wordlessly they head inside, into the elevator and out again, and to their respective doors.

The silence is thick and tense as they unlock and open them, and then as one they turn to face each other. “Well,” Killian forces the word out, and a smile to accompany it. “I guess I’ll see you around, Swan.”

“Yeah.” Emma smiles too, though she fears it may crack her face. “Thanks for doing this, Killian. I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course, love. I’ll be your fake boyfriend any time, just say the word.”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes meet and hold and for a moment they stand still, trapped in emotion and the unspoken words that hang in the air between them. And then again as one they exchange stiff and awkward nods and turn away.

Emma takes a long shower, as hot as she can stand, then gets immediately into her favourite pajamas. She makes herself hot chocolate in her largest mug, tops it with cinnamon and a truly obscene pile of whipped cream and curls into a ball on the sofa. Netflix is full of Christmas movies but none appeal to her, and when she realises she’s been scrolling aimlessly for more than half an hour she turns off the TV and throws the remote down in disgust.

Despite her earlier resolution she can’t stop thinking about Killian. About how much she enjoyed her time with him, and how he turned out to be nothing at all like she expected. The flirting and innuendo is just one layer of him, she realises now, just the protective wrapper on the sensitive man beneath. The sweet and considerate and funny man with a strong streak of nerd that she finds ridiculously attractive.

The man who wrote her poem. The mystery poet who understood her without even knowing her, whose words got her through one of the most difficult times in her life. It should be unbelievable, she thinks, for that poet and her flirty, womanising neighbour to be one and the same and yet she finds that it makes perfect sense. Killian hides behind snark and innuendo the way she hides behind her prickles, and she’s willing to bet that the women she’s seen leaving his apartment early in the morning, never the same one twice, are just another coping mechanism. She understands those.

If she’d only understood it earlier. Killian has tried, over and over again, to get to know her. He invited her to dinner, offered her coffee, and each time she refused. She didn’t want to be someone he slept with once and never saw again, and caught up in her fear of pain and rejection she couldn’t see that that was never what he wanted.

And why is that?

Because she’s always felt it, that pull of connection, of recognition between them, and it terrified her. For a person who’s known precious little connection in her life and lost nearly everyone close to her, someone who’s spent her life wondering if she’s even capable of love, the idea of actually finding someone, of opening up to another person is a frightening thing to contemplate.

And now it may be too late.

She needs to sort out her thoughts, try to figure out what she wants, and now she understands where her impulse to grab her old journal this morning came from. She retrieves it from her bag along with a pen, flips it open to the blank pages at the back, settles down on the sofa and starts to write.

Two hours later she’s mentally exhausted and emotionally wrung out, but she knows what she has to do.

Emma stands outside Killian’s apartment taking deep breaths and trying to calm her racing heart. She’s just raising her fist to knock when the door swings open.

“Swan!” Killian stops abruptly and gapes at her. He looks terrible, his hair standing up in tufts at odd angles and his eyes red-rimmed. “I was just coming to see you.”

“You were?”

“Aye.” He runs his fingers through his hair, tugs at it, and Emma understands why it’s such a mess. He’s clearly in turmoil. His distress hurts her heart but before she can think of what to say to ease it he speaks again.

“Emma, listen,” he says, “I know I fucked things up, but—”

“You fucked things up?” She doesn’t mean to interrupt him but the words just burst out. That was what she planned to say to him.

“Aye, and I’m sorry but—”

She shakes her head. “Wait how did you fuck up?”

“I tried to push you too hard,” he says, in a voice dripping with disgust. “I should have slept in the chair last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“You regret kissing me?”

“No, I—I regret making you uncomfortable.” He yanks on his hair again, making her wince.

“But I kissed you back,” she points out. “I wanted to kiss you.”

“You were a bit worse for alcohol, love—”

“I still wanted to.”

He stares at her. “You did?” he whispers.

“Yes of course I did.” Emma’s head is spinning again. “Didn’t you get that from the morning at Granny’s?”

He visibly cringes, his ears turning pink. “I owe you an apology for that as well,” he says.

“What?”

“I don’t know what happened.” Killian is too caught up in his self-flagellation to see the way she gapes at him. “I woke up and the next thing I knew we were kissing and I… I couldn’t stop myself from...”

“Killian, I kissed you!”

He frowns. “Did you?”

“You really don’t remember?”

“I—I’m not at my sharpest first thing in the morning,” he replies. “It takes me a while to wake up fully.”

“Yeah, I got that.” She starts to laugh.

“Is this funny?” Killian sounds hurt.

“Not really, no. It’s just— we’ve had each other so wrong. I thought you didn’t want me.”

He snorts. “Why, because I practically begged you for months to go out with me? Because the first chance I got to spend time with you I jumped on with both feet?”

She glares at him. “Because I kissed you and you pushed me away. Twice.”

“I didn’t push you away, I just didn’t want to take advantage. To push you too hard.”

“Yeah, well I see that now.” She’s nearly shouting. “But it felt like rejection. And that plus all your other women, well...”

He frowns in confusion. “What women?”

“You know, all the women that are always leaving your apartment in the morning.”

“What are you talking about? If there are women fleeing my apartment I have no knowledge of it.”

“They’re not fleeing, they’re just, you know, leaving. After a night of—she waves her hand—you know. Sex hair and last night’s clothes. Those women.”

Killian looks completely baffled. “Swan, I haven’t slept with anyone in nearly a year,” he says. “I mean, yes, when I first moved here I had a few… dalliances, but once I—” he breaks off, ears going pink once again.

Emma gasps and her heart begins to race. He can’t possibly mean what she thinks he does. “Once you what?” she whispers. He reaches for his hair again but she catches his hand and holds it tightly. “Once you what, Killian?”

He swallows hard, then meets her eyes. “Once I met you,” he says gruffly. “After that I just couldn’t summon the interest anymore. It’s been a bloody inconvenience what with you not giving me the time of day, but there you are.”

“But I saw…” she trails off as she thinks back to the last time she actually saw any of those women. It’s... longer than she realised. Not since the first few months Killian lived in the apartment, in fact, when she glimpsed him in passing but before they officially met.

“Oh,” she said. “Well I feel dumb.” She looks up at him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You really haven’t—because of me?”

“When you say it like that, I feel dumb,” he tries to joke. “But yes. I haven’t wanted anyone but you since we met.”

“I want you too,” she says softly. “I always have.”

He pulls her closer by their still-entwined hands, close enough that she can feel his breath on her temple, see the raw vulnerability in his eyes. “You’ve got me,” he says, softer still. “You always have.”

She fists her hand in the front of his shirt and pulls his lips to hers. He meets her open-mouthed, his own hand clenched in her hair and holding her close as they devour each other without hesitation or restraint. Emma pulls her hand from his so she can slide it beneath his shirt, desperate for the feel of his skin, and Killian curves his hand around her ass and pulls her hips hard against his.

Emma whimpers at the pressure of his cock against her, the small noise bringing just enough awareness into Killian’s lust-drenched brain that he realises they’re still standing in the middle of the hallway.

He breaks the kiss. “Emma,” he pants, letting his forehead rest against hers and trying not to notice how wrecked she looks.

“Hmmm?”

“I wonder if you’d care to share a bed with me again,” he says. “For more enjoyable activities this time.”

“More enjoyable than sleeping?” she teases. “That’s a bold statement. I love sleeping.”

“Bold, you say?” He grins at her cheek. “Is that a challenge? Because you know how I feel about those.”

“Definitely a challen—oh!” she cries as he scoops her up and carries her into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind them.

“So does this mean you’ll finally have dinner with me?” Killian asks much, much later as they lay entwined in the tangled sheets of his bed.

“If you want,” she replies, and Killian frowns.

“Of course I want,” he says. “I think we’ve established pretty firmly how much I want you.”

“But are you sure you want, like, an actual full-on relationship? I’m not the easiest person to be with, Killian. I work long hours and I don’t open up easily. I mean, you said yourself I’m prickly.” She bites her lip and he can see the fear and worry in her eyes.

“And as I told you, I like your prickles,” he says, running his hand up and down her back until she begins to relax. “I like everything about you.”

The other L word dances on the tip of his tongue but he swallows it back. She’s not ready for that yet. He puts the word into a kiss instead, letting her feel how much he treasures her, and when they break apart the worry is gone and her eyes are soft and happy. She snuggles against him with a contented sigh and in that moment he knows—knows—that he won't have to wait too long to tell her how he feels. And for now, the knowing is enough for him.

For now.

Three hundred and sixty three days later Emma wakes up warm in a very cold room. She grins and snuggles closer to the source of the warmth, her very own personal radiator.

Killian just rolls his eyes when she calls him that, but she knows that deep down he loves it.

He’s still asleep, his hand warm against her bare skin, his cheek on her hair. She nudges him and he opens his eyes, blinking sleepily.

“Morning, love,” he says.

“Morning yourself.” She rubs her cheek against his chest. “You remember the last time we woke up in this room?”

“Aye. You accosted me before I was properly awake and had your wicked way with me.” His morning voice is deep and rumbly and it still does funny things to Emma’s insides, even after nearly a year.

“Are you properly awake now?” she inquires.

“Not quite yet. Why don’t you accost me again?”

“Well, if you insist,” she purrs, and kisses him.

A moment later her phone begins to ring. They ignore it.

They linger in bed for as long as they dare, but Emma’s phone continues to ring and so they drag themselves up and get ready to head for Mary Margaret and David’s for Thanksgiving dinner.

Killian shrugs on his coat and feels around his various pockets for wallet, phone and keys. When he’s sure he has all three he scans the room for anything they’ve forgotten, then looks over to find Emma sitting on the bed watching him with a small smile.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing.” She gets up and goes over to him, kisses him on the cheek. “I just love you.” The words come so easily to her now but they still make his heart soar each time he hears them. Just as it soars whenever he sees the framed poem above their bed, when he thinks about everything it represents for them, how far they both have come.

“I love you, too,” he replies. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, looks into her eyes. “Are you happy, Emma? Truly?”

“What? Of course I am.” She frowns. “Are you?”

“Very. More than I ever imagined I could be.”

“Me too.”

He kisses her, soft and sweet and full of love. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, though I should probably call Mary Margaret back first to let her know we’re on our way.”

“All right. I’ll go check out and you meet me in the lobby when you’re finished.”

Mary Margaret answers on the first ring. “Emma!” She sounds half-panicked. “Where are you? When are you going to be here?”

“Um, in about an hour, I guess.”

“Really? Are you calling from the road?”

“No, Killian and I stayed last night in the inn where we got stranded last year. Kind of an anniversary thing.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” Mary Margaret sighs. “Killian’s so sweet.”

“Mmhmm.” Returning to the inn was Emma’s idea, but she’s not about to admit it. Only Killian is allowed to see her soft, sentimental side. And besides, Mary Margaret’s not wrong. Killian is sweet.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not far, honestly. Regina and Robin are already here so the sooner you arrive the better.”

"We’ll be on our way as soon as Killian’s done checking out.”

“Great! See you soon, sweetie.”

“See you soon.”

“Did you sleep well?” asks Granny as she swipes Killian’s credit card.

“We did, very well. Bit cold this morning, though, the heater went out during the night.”

Granny nods. “Happens sometimes in that room, as you know.” You should know, her tone suggests, you requested that room specifically.

She hands back the card along with a pen the receipt for him to sign.

“I do indeed,” Killian agrees, signing his name with a flourish. “Oh, and by the way...” he gives her a razor sharp smile as he slides the receipt back across the reception desk. “I’m on to you, old woman.”

“What do you mean?” Granny tugs at the receipt but he doesn’t relinquish it.

“I know what you did last year,” he replies. “With the ‘only one room’, and the ‘broken’ heater. Are you aware that my girlfriend’s sister-in-law is Mary Margaret Nolan?”

“Darn it, Ruby,” huffs Granny. “That girl never could keep a secret.”

Killian thinks that’s rather unfair. Ruby has kept his and Emma’s secret admirably.

“Aye,” he growls, still holding the receipt. “And I have only one thing to say to you.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Thank you.”

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #all the tropes #and now the best one #the happy ending #fluffy fluffety fluff #across the snowy places #profdanglaisstuff

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thewritewolf · 5 years

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Rekindle Chapter 30: Prey/Hunt

Marinette, worried for Chat Noir, heads out into the city to find him. What she doesn't count on is something finding her...

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@marichatmay

Enjoy!

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The call ended and Marinette carefully set her phone on the couch beside her. Leaning back, she closed her eyes and tried to make herself relax. The conversation with Alya had gone on for much longer than she had intended it to and all she wanted was to lay down with Adrien and pretend everything was normal for a little while. He still wasn’t back though which was weird since he’d been gone for… she cracked open an eye to peer at the clock, only for her eyes to fly open when she noticed it was two hours into the new day.

Had she really been on the phone for that long? Or had the rest of the night simply dragged out for that long? Just earlier that night, they’d been preparing to go to a banquet in their honor. Now that felt like a lifetime ago. It was strange how quickly things change.

“Tikki?” Her kwami emerged from where she had cocooned herself in blankets. “He’s been gone way too long. I think it’s time we looked for Chat Noir.”

She nodded. “I’m behind you one hundred percent!” Her enthusiasm waned a little as she added, “I have a bad feeling and I’d feel better if you two were together, just in case.”

Sounds ominous, but how much worse could things get? “Tikki, spots on!”

Almost immediately, she collapsed to the ground from the weight of voices and visions. “Spots off, spots off!”

The power of Ladybug left her and everything slowly faded away, like a scream turning to an echo. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision and focused, using the same techniques she’d gained that night. It was faint - probably because of distance - but there was no question the same sort of dark energy she’d felt before. She groaned. Was it too much to ask for this night to just end already?

Belatedly, she realized Tikki had been talking. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said, what are you going to do now? I don’t think we can be Ladybug for very long, and Chat Noir probably isn’t aware of the danger.”

“Then we’ll have to find him the old fashioned way.” Marinette threw off her pajamas and rushed to put on street clothes. One purse filled with cookies later and she was out in the Parisian streets.

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

Adrien rubbed at his eyes as he took a rare break. The confrontation with his father had been deeply satisfying, but for some reason the anger he felt hadn’t gone away yet. Knowing he wouldn’t be any help to Marinette in this state of mind kept him from going home, but he was starting to get too tired to keep running. No doubt Plagg was getting exhausted too. Despite their frequent training over the years, Plagg was at his heart a lazy glutton. He wasn’t well suited for these extended periods of transformations.

All other thoughts were put aside when he heard a scream in the night. He was on the move immediately, searching for where it had come from. The scene he came upon sent a bolt of panic through his heart.

In a dead end alley, Marinette was desperately tossing whatever she could get her hands on at a creature that looked like a feline version of a werewolf. It’s fur was a stark white, and Adrien could see the scratches its claws left in the stone of the alley floor as it dragged its long arms along. In the small space, the feral growling echoed and overlapped with itself. It raised one arm with a snarl, galvanizing Adrien into action.

It began to turn around, but Adrien was already swinging his baton. Emerald green eyes set against the monstrous visage of the beast shook him to his core, but he got his bearings quickly. They began a dance of Adrien avoiding a swipe and his baton connecting against it. Unfortunately, the werecat’s fury only seemed to grow with every hit that Adrien landed against it and before long, it was on the offensive. One backhanded strike slammed Adrien against the wall and pinned him there while the other claw was raised to rake him.

Before the beast could deliver the blow, a trash can was slammed onto its head. When the beast dropped him, Adrien beat against it with his baton, stunning it. Marinette, who had positioned herself behind the monster, motioned wildly at Adrien to get away from it. Taking her cue, he scooped her up onto his back and began running once she had a hold on him.

“My lady! What are you doing out this late?”

“Looking for you,” she spoke into his ear over the wind. “Another shard got corrupted, I think. We need to purify it before we can stop Chat Blanc.”

He blinked in confusion. “Chat Blanc…? Wait, you don’t think I made that thing, do you?”

He could feel the sarcasm in her voice as she replied, “No, of course not. I mean, it’s only a cat-themed rage monster that got more powerful the more fiercely you fought it. Just a coincidence, right?”

Despite the circumstances, he chuckled. “Okay, okay, fair enough. Any idea where it might be?”

“Yeah,” she replied and something in her voice wiped the smile from her face. “I’m pretty sure I do. Just do what I say and I’ll get us there. Can you do that for me, kitty?”

“For my favorite civilian? Always.”

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

If it were any other situation, Marinette might have taken a moment to pause or acknowledge the tumultuous emotions that were stirred up at being in the same place that Hawkmoth had taken her months ago. The place that had put her life on a wildly different course - the reveal, the defeat of her arch enemy, the breaking of the peacock miraculous. But with the physical embodiment of Adrien’s anger no doubt bearing down on the both of them, she didn’t have the luxury of reflection right now.

She leapt off of Chat Noir’s back, ignoring the brief moment of vertigo from all the negative energy. “Come on! We need to find it before Chat Blanc shows up!”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.”

Chat Noir bolted off to the opposite end of the storage building. Since they’d been here last, crates and barrels and various tools had started to fill the still mostly empty space. While there was still plenty of room to move around in, there was also plenty of places to hide small magical objects in. As she violently tossed things around, she couldn’t help but wonder how they had gotten spread out like this. Was it simply random chance that the shard ended up in a place that was steeped in negative emotions? Had Nathalie placed it here, knowing it could cause more harm to them? Or did the shard seek out these sorts of places, drawn to power it could work with?

There was so much she didn’t understand about the miraculous, even after using the most powerful one for a decade.

The door came down with a crash and a blood curdling roar. As her head whipped in that direction, she saw Chat Noir rush up to meet Chat Blanc. He shouted over his shoulder.

“Keep looking! Finding the shard is the only way we’re going to beat this thing!”

Her searching became more frantic as the sounds of battle echoed strangely in the large space. Roars and battle cries and puns and cries of pain blended around her as she fought to maintain clarity in this storm. Through it all, she didn’t dare look behind her, terrified of what she might see. After what felt like an eternity, she found it - a blackened shard that practically warped and darkened the air around it, as if it were a weight upon the fabric of reality.

She took a deep breath. “Tikki, spots on!”

Once again, the visions came back in full force and for a brief moment she was nearly swept aside by the tidal wave that slammed into her senses. But she stayed standing, an inner fire burning bright against the encroaching darkness. Removing her yoyo from her side, she went through the process of cleansing the corrupt shard.

“I release you from evil!” She captured the shard in her yoyo, the energy evaporating before the power of the ladybug miraculous. The warehouse was silent as she caught the shard before it hit the ground. It was back to its usual teal color, but she didn’t inspect it for long before she ran over to Chat Noir’s side.

He seemed bruised and his breathing wasn’t coming as easy as she would like, but he was standing and smiling at her. Unable to contain herself, she ran up and threw her arms around him.

“Good job, lovebug.”

“You too, kitty.” She settled her chin on his chest as she looked up at him with all the love in the world. “Almost ready to go home?”

“Yeah. Do your thing and we can head out.”

After calling for the lucky charm and miraculous cure, Chat Noir was looking better - not at his best, but definitely better. His arm rested over her shoulders and she leaned into the embrace as they walked out of the building.

“So I suppose this is our life now?”

Marinette giggled. “I guess so. Never a dull moment, huh?”

“No, never.” He gave her a squeeze. “But there is no one I’d rather have by my side.”

“You’re not half bad yourself.” She yawned and noticed the skies that were already beginning to lighten up ever so slightly. “Let’s go home. I feel like I could sleep for years.”

Chat Noir grinned. “You always have the best plans.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #MarichatMay2019 #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Marichat #Tikki #ml fanfiction #my writing #Rekindle

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 4 years

Text

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 36: The Sports Festival Part 9: Round Five – FIGHT!

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Earlier chapters can be found here

“Up next, we have the high-speed Hero student, Isamu Haimawari! He took first place in the Obstacle Course, survived Quirkball, and shot his first opponent out of the ring! Going up against him, we have Izumi Todoroki, mistress of the elements! She’s mastered fire and ice and pushed past a truly explosive first opponent! This is going to be an intense one, folks!”

“Another exercise in violence and flashy abilities. Of course.”

Isamu was doing his level best to ignore the crowd and not doing a very good job of it. Too much noise, too many people. A bunch of them were just cheering, making noise. Quite a few people were cheering for Izumi. And what surprised him was that some of those people were cheering for him. Sure, he assumed some of his friends in the stands might be. Shinso was probably cheering for the both of them, even. But he wasn’t used to having this much attention on him. He’d had just a small number of friends (which reminded him, he should really call them) in middle school and junior high, and was even more surprised to find he’d made friends so easily at U.A. But people who’d never met him, cheering for him to succeed? Totally foreign territory.

Okay, so Izumi. She looked like she’d recover pretty well from collapsing fighting Kirishima-Bakugo. The rings on her regulator rig were giving off a soft-green glow, meaning she didn’t have any stored heat in them. That meant she’d have to rely on ice at first, until she could build up enough heat for fire. That was decent. He could handle ice. His repulsion field treated ice just like any other surface, and he could adhere to it too, if he had to.

Honestly, he was grateful to be facing Izumi and not Kirishima-Bakugo. Not that he wanted to fight a friend of his, but Kirishima-Bakugo was terrifying in ways Izumi definitely wasn’t. He wasn’t sure he could take either one of them, especially after the display of power Izumi had put on, but he was even less sure about Kirishima-Bakugo.

“You, ah, ready for this, Izumi?” he asked.

Izumi nodded. “Quite ready,” she said.

“I’m not going to go easy on you,” he added.

She shook her head. “Nor would I expect you to.”

They both turned their attention to Hakweye, who nodded slightly. “You’re ready, then?” Another nod from both of them. “Then… FIGHT!”

Isamu threw himself forward, hands and feet both touching the ground, and he rocketed himself towards Izumi. She took a fast step back and pointed at the ground, throwing up a wall of ice probably two meters across and taller than she was. He had to hit the breaks hard, firing his repulsive force in the other direction, to keep from slamming into it.

Quickly, Izumi came around from behind her wall (she had probably started moving moment she’d thrown it up), and he felt the temperature drop around him sharply. Even as he tried to push back, the ice formed faster than he’d expected, until he found himself lifted off the ground, frozen, just his head pushing out.

A hush fell over the crowd. He had to do something. He had no time to waste; if he didn’t do something quickly, he’d be eliminated.

“Haimawari,” Hawkeye began, “can you continue?”

He barely heard her, instead focusing on concentrating on his Quirk for all he was worth. The ice around him was one structure and he had four points of contact. Perfect. He triggered his Quirk, pushing his repulsion field out from all of his limbs and directly into the ice. With an ear-shattering crack, the ice broke, sending shards everywhere and sending him flying back. Equal and opposite reaction, of course. The laws of physics were harsh sometimes. As he flew back, he saw Izumi protecting herself from the shards with a quickly formed ice shield.

He hit the ground, skidding, throwing his hands out and applying his adhesive force to keep himself from going further. And then he got fight back up shot forward again. An ice pillar shot up in his way, forcing him to go around it, then another, and another. Each time, he had to change directions, move back or to the side. It was only after the third one that he realized… she was herding him. Every time he had to change directions, he was moving closer to the edge of the ring.

Clever. It had almost worked. Isamu skidded to a stop, spinning around and rocketing around the edge of the ring. The only good part about the ice pillars was that they had also temporarily obstructed Izumi’s view of him. Just enough time for him to rush her and…

A blast of flame, came rushing at him. He barely had time to duck his head out of the way, the flames missing him by mere centimeters, and he could feel the heat from them. Izumi had anticipated his move here too. Was he that predictable?

She switched back to ice, obviously wary of using her flames directly on him. Only an intense burst kept him from becoming ensnared in an icy prison again.

Izzy didn’t let up. She called up more ice, trying to box him in, walls of ice forming on all sides. Isamu stood, putting a hand against the wall of ice in front of him. Solid. He took a step back, but found a wall of ice had already formed behind him! Looking up, the walls were starting to join together…

No room to slide, nowhere to run… he was trapped!

He had one chance. He’d meant to save this for his last match. But if he didn’t do it now, this probably would be his last match.

***

Up in the stands, Shota gasped, gasped again, then gasped some more. Two of his best friends were duking it out! Who was he supposed to root for here? Haimawari, who liked Heroes almost as much as him and Toshi and never told him to shut up? Izumi, who he’d known for longer, and who always encouraged him?

“Argh!” he wailed. “Why can’t they both just win? This is killing me!”

“Relax, Shota,” Asuka said, sitting behind and one seat to the left of him. “Simply making it this far is a victory in and of itself. *chirp* Our friends will be fine no matter the outcome.”

“My money is on Todoroki,” Shoji said, sitting next to Asuka. “She’s negating Haimawari’s speed by boxing him in.”

“Yeah, but he can just go up and over it, if he has to,” Mineta added, sitting in the row in front of him. “Might get a good look at his backside that way.”

“Should you really be looking at backsides, Mika?” Kaminari, sitting next to her, asked. “Aren’t you kind of seeing Yoarashi now?”

“Shinji and I aren’t exclusive, Chi,” Mineta replied. “So I can look at all the backsides I want and so can he. I told him he should check out yours sometime.”

“Ah… thanks?”

Shota winced as it looked like Izumi got the drop of Haimawari, forming a dome of ice all around him. “Aaaw, man,” he said. “I think she’s got him now. No way he’s going to get out of there!”

“Hang on,” Sato said, leaning forward in his seat. He looked to his left and right, where Sero and Ojiro were sitting. “You guys see that too, right?”

“Something’s glowing in there!” Ojiro said.

Sero looked to his right, where his boyfriend, Tensei Iida, was sitting. “Any sciencey ideas, babe?”

“I am afraid I do not have enough information to form a hypothesis,” Iida said. Next to him, his sister, Sora, likewise shook her head.

Sero looked back over his shoulder. “Shinso, Tokoyami, any ideas what he’s doing?”

Shota shook his head. He knew Haimawari had been spending a lot of time doing some private training, when he wasn’t practicing hand to hand with him and Toshi, but he didn’t know what exactly he was doing. “Dunno,” he said. “Looks like it’s gonna be big though.”

“Oui,” Aoyama said, from where he was sitting with Koda. He’d been extra grumpy since getting eliminated during Quirkball. He seemed to have calmed down a little since lunch, at least. “It seems all his practice is about to pay off. Our newcomer may surprise us yet.”

Kirishima-Bakugo was on the edge of her seat, a white-knuckled grip on the railing in front of her. “C’mon, Izzy… kick his ass already…”

***

Isamu planted his feet, put one arm out, palm facing forward. He braced it with his other arm, took a deep breath, and concentrated all of his Quirk into it. The energy there hummed for a moment, making his arm shake with the effort of controlling all the energy. He probably had exactly one shot at this. He’d been able to fire off some lower power bursts in rapid succession, but the ice here already looked thick enough to make trouble.

When he could bear the power no longer, sparks of white energy already dancing along his hand, Isamu let the energy go in one massive blast.

KRACKA-POW!

A bolt of blue-white energy flared from his hand, punching through and shattering the ice before him. He’d done it! He’d actually done it! It felt like he’d just gone jogging for twenty miles, but he’d actually done it!

An ice ball smacked into his head, nearly knocking him over, and draining any sense of accomplishment. He could see now, Izumi had gotten out of the way before he’d fired off his blast. It had been too much to hope for that she’d been in the line of fire. But then again, he wasn’t sure how much damage a blast like that would have done to a person.

He got moving, running rather than sliding, as Izumi alternated between blasts of ice and flame. With so many chunks of ice and ice constructions littering the ring, there was precious room to maneuver or fight. But there was a pillar. Isamu quickly slapped a hand against it, bringing his feet onto it and lifting himself up, gaining some altitude. Below, he could see Izumi readying a blast of flame to bring him down. She’d done the same to Kirishima-Bakugo.

But he had one thing she didn’t. He pointed his free hand. It was now or nothing. And…

Kracka-Pow! Kracka-Pow! Kracka-Pow! Kracka-Pow!

He pushed out what remaining power he could, firing blast after blast. Low power, but maybe just enough.

The blasts were enough to get Izumi moving, barely one step ahead of where he was firing. Finally, Isamu pushed with the three limbs he had touching the pillar and launched herself into the air. He came down, smacking into Izumi, both of them rolling over and over.

“Todoroki is out of bounds!” came Hawkeye’s voice. “Haimawari wins!”

What? Isamu looked. They were near the edge of the ring and… Izumi’s head was just a little bit over it. He was also, he realized, on top of Izumi and way too close. He felt a crimson blush spread over his face. He didn’t think of her like that that, not at all, but this was still some of the closest he’d been to a girl, other than Mika riding on his back earlier today.

“Ah… sorry,” he said. And realized he was still on top of her. Hastily, he got to his feet and helped her to hers. “You okay?”

She gave him a small smile. “Battered and bruised, but otherwise all right,” she said. “I managed not to pass out this time.”

He gave her a smile in return. “You nearly had me,” he said. “…Please don’t let Kirishima-Bakugo kill me.”

This actually got a small laugh out of her. “You have my promise.”

And then he realized the crowd was cheering his name. And he nearly passed out himself.

“Yoooowwww! Quite the win for this unknown! Haimawari advances to the next round! We’re gonna get some clean up and then be back for the final fight of the second seed!”

***

“Let’s all give a big hand to FireFox for getting rid of that ice so quickly and to the Support classes for cleaning up the steam and water! We’re now ready for the final fight of the second seed! Toshinori Midoriya, the Number One Son of the Number One Hero vs Kana Tetsutetsu, the Steel Sentinel of Class 1-B!”

“Let me just say now: Anyone who breaks any bones will be expelled.”

“Good one, Eraser! Who knew you’d taken up jokes? That wife of yours must really be getting to you!”

“Right. Jokes.”

So, Kana Tetsutetsu. Toshi was carefully reviewing what he knew about his friend. In many ways, she was like the PG-12 version of Katsumi. She was strong, driven, dedicated to proving herself, but a lot less angry. As Representative for her class, she was also fair, honest, and a bit of a big sister. And she was by far the more patient of the two (anybody who could put up with Monoma and was friends with Mineta had to have the patient of a saint).

Her Quirk let her turn her arms, from fingertip to shoulder, into metal. This gave her incredible punching power and a strong resistance to damage that she called her “Ultimate Guard.”

She was also, frankly, a better fighter than he was, an actual martial artist. Toshi had a number of moves Mom had taught him, but he took after Dad and Grandpa Might in that he was more of a brawler, relying on heavy hits and his patented “Gravity Smash” stomp move to do most of his damage.

“You’re going to give me a good fight, Toshi?” Kana asked, grinning. Not a feral grin like Katsumi so often sported, but one that said, “I welcome the challenge.”

“Of course,” he agreed, returning the grin. He liked a good fight as much as the next guy and Kana made a great sparring partner. A straight-up fight like this was a good match for the two of them, neither had a big advantage over the other.

It’d be a good chance for both for both of them to show off what they could do.

“Ready?” Hawkeye asked. Not a lot of nonsense here, compared to some of the other matches. She seemed to have moved up from “annoyed” to “impassive”, which was an improvement. When they nodded, she stepped out of the ring. “Now… FIGHT!”

A lot of the other matches had started quickly, fast and furious blows or other bursts of power. Here, the two were more careful, slowly circling each other looking for an opening to exploit. It was Toshi who made the first move, throwing a right cross and increasing his gravity at the last moment.

CLANG!

Kana got her Ultimate Guard up in time, arms crossed in an X in front of her. Fortunately for Toshi, his durability went way up when he increased his gravity or he’d probably have broken his hand. She returned with strikes of her own, fast punches that he had to block. Going to higher gravity slowed him down, requiring split second timing to shift form normal gravity to heavy gravity and back again.

“Not bad,” Kana laughed. “But you’re never going to beat me if you keep going that low.”

She took a quick step back, giving her room to drop down and sweep her leg, knocking Toshi off of his. He landed hard on his back with a grunt. Quickly, he sprung back to his feet and brought his own gravity down, jumping up and over her, but her reactions were quick and she was already spinning around with a left-armed metal punch. He sidestepped that, backpedaling away from her fists.

Toshi took a deep breath and brought his gravity down, doing a backflip that brought him to the edge of the ring. There, he’d bought himself a little space. Kana was already running to meet him, so he ran towards her, then cut his gravity (not enough to float, just enough to make him light) and jumped, the extra force of his muscles combined with his lowered gravity shooting him forward like a shot from a sling.

Kana got her guard up again, but he wasn’t going for a strike. Instead, he amped up his gravity, controlling his descent, tackling her at the waist. For a moment, he was on top of her and he increased his gravity several times over, pinning her to the ground. He scrambled to try and pin her arms, but she was faster than him and she boxed his ears, hard.

At least she’d turned her arms back to flesh before she did that. As it was, it left Toshi seeing stars, his concentration broken and his ears ringing. Unable to concentrate on maintaining his heavy gravity, Kana was able to shove him off of her, making him land hard on his butt.

Back on her feet in an instant, Kana converted her arms to metal again, delivering a downward strike that Toshi had to scramble to get away from. She followed with more blows, nearly striking him each time, until she was able to grab the front of his uniform.

One-handed, she lifted him. “I’ve been working on my throwing arm,” Kana said. “Want to see how far you’ll go?”

“Not today!” Toshi shouted, increasing his gravity as much as he could. If he did it too fast, he’d hurt himself, but if he did it just right…

He quickly became too heavy even for Kana to hold up and she was forced to drop him. The concrete cracked again under his feet when they hit.

There was a moment when they stared each other down… then both launched into another flurry of blows.

***

“Come on!” Katsumi roared. “Somebody punch somebody! Quit dancing around it! One good headshot… BOOM!”

Next to her, Izzy jumped, startled by the outburst. Katsumi smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Iz,” she said. “But, I mean, c’mon! One of them should be able to clobber the other faster than this!”

Izzy shook her head. “It has been a long day of fights and they are nearly equally matched. Toshi has more mobility, but Tetsutetsu’s reflexes and guard, combined with the open arrangement of the ring, make it difficult to take advantage of that. Likewise, Tetsutetsu has great power and skill, but so does Toshi.”

“Yeah, okay,” Katsumi admitted. “It’s a good scrap either way.” She truthfully didn’t care who won. She knew that neither one of them would let it go to their heads. Both of them were her friends, so she wasn’t playing favorites either. But the longer the fight went on, the more likely it would come down to someone making a mistake. And someone else making a mistake wasn’t the same as winning by pure skill or power alone.

“Show her no mercy!” Sora Iida shouted, springing up from her seat. “Your chance of victory is as certain as the probability of death in the horizon of a black hole!”

“…Not that I’ve got anything against cheering,” Sero said, “I mean, all for supporting Midoriya, but what the heck kind of cheer was that?”

“One using the accuracy of science!” Iida said.

Her brother Tensei seemed to disagree. “You are being hyperbolic and irrational, Sister. There is a one hundred percent probability of death within the event horizon of a black hole. Your suitor may be skilled, but he cannot achieve one hundred percent probability of victory.”

“I am being a supportive girlfriend!”

“You are being inaccurate!”

“Both of you, shut up!” Katsumi roared.

“Aw, but I liked watching her jump up and down,” Mineta wailed.

“That goes double for you!”

Katsumi turned her attention back to the fight. “Somebody better win so I don’t have to put up with this.”

***

Toshi blocked Kana’s latest blow, his movements only partially slowed by his increased gravity. He returned with a strike of his own, which she sidestepped, thrusting out her leg in a series of kicks that drove him back. The two of them were just too evenly matched.

Okay, direct confrontation wasn’t working… he needed to be smarter about this. Brawling wasn’t working, so what would?

A thought sprang up in his mind. Yeah, that’d do it.

He ran towards Kana, lowered his gravity, and then jumped. Not forward or back, but instead straight up. With almost no gravity to hold him down, his assent was fast, shooting up like a rocket. Up and up he went, the rush of the wind on his face making his eyes water. He had to do this right though, not go beyond the limit they’d set which was just about… now.

Gravity seized Toshi like a snare, as he increased his many times over. More times than he would ever dare on the ground, making him almost too heavy to even move. But here, he didn’t have to. He just had to fall and stick what Dad liked to call the “Hero Landing”.

BOOM!

Toshi hit the ground hard, with his fist and feet, setting off a massive shockwave that cracked the concrete of the ring and sent Kana flying. She’d been able to get out of the way of being directly under him, but she had to stay in the ring. No escape. She landed outside the ring, battered, but rolling and already back on her feet. She was tough, that was a fact.

It took Toshi a moment to recover his wits. He’d done this trick before, against robots in training, but he’d put more gravity behind in that he had before. Not quite one of Grandpa Might’s or Dad’s famous Smashes, but pretty impressive all the same.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel some guilt. This wasn’t the kind of trick he could pull off fighting a Villain, not unless he had no other choice. Too much potential for property damage or worse.

…It’d been pretty cool, though.

“Tetsutetsu…” came the voice of Hawkeye. She looked a bit disheveled. Had he knocked her over too? Crap. That was bad. “Tetsutetsu is out of bounds! Midoriya wins!”

“Everybody okay down there? That was a smashing final move! Looks like the Number One’s Number One Son is on his way to the top!”

“Another Problem Child. Of course.”

#my hero academia #their hero academia #toshi midoriya #fan fic #fan fiction #my writing

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lambroseforlife · 5 years

Note

Hi! I saw your post asking for ideas for one shots, here's mine: Lambrose finally discussing what bothers them in their relationship (each one of them tries to defend their point). Thanks!

Hmm so for this one, I feel like this should have really been addressed at the beginning of book 5 since it had the setup. Of course, it didn’t happen but it can happen in this prompt :) This oneshot is a rewrite of Hunting for Silence, Chapter 11: “Return of the Yellow Piggies”, in Lilly Linton’s POV.

⚠️⚠️ If you haven’t read the original chapter and want to avoid spoilers, then DON’T read this oneshot since it contains potential SPOILERS. If you read beyond this then it’s at your own risk and I claim no responsibility. Consider this a FINAL warning. ⚠️⚠️

— — —

Considerably slower than usual, I arrived at Mr Ambrose’s door. I halted. Or, I tried to. My feet delayed in their response and I stumbled. My head thumped against the door.

‘Ow!’

I reeled back and my hand reached out. To my luck, I grabbed onto the correct doorknob out of the three in front of me.

‘Gotcha!’

My hand twisted and the door opened, taking me into the room along with it. I swayed but like a reliable doorknob, it didn’t let me fall. Good doorknob. Nice doorknob. Maybe it could be a fellow advocate for women’s suffrage. Maybe even—

‘Mr Linton.’

I looked up to see who had interrupted my bonding with the nice brass knob. Four tall and dark figures stood by the window. Familiar figures.

‘I assume you’ve finished today’s interviews?’ Strange. I heard only one voice. Maybe one of the four Ambroses decided to speak?

‘Yessir!’ I saluted with my free hand but they couldn’t see. Not with their backs to me.

‘Well? What did you find?’

I could only see one Mr Ambrose now. Funny. The other ones suddenly disappeared.

‘I found t-that F-French singadingers have s-strong stub— stuffs.

He froze. There was a moment of silence and then…

‘Oh no. No. Not again.’

He turned around slowly. So slow I could count the seconds.

One…two…seventeen…nine…

Wait. That didn’t sound right. Oh well. Even for someone as experienced with sums like yours truly, math was still tough.

His dark eyes bored into me, raking me from head to foot. Actually, feet. Luckily for me, I still had both intact.

Using them, I wobbled closer to him, tightly grasping the door handle. His eyes narrowed and his stiffened posture became petrified.

In the literal sense, of course. Not the emotional sense. People like Mr Ambrose didn’t have emotions, right?

As if in protest, a barrage of memories flooded my mind. Good memories. Bad memories. Happy ones. Painful ones.

Memories from months ago. All in another time, in another country. All which felt far away from here and now.

Something painful tugged at my chest. Perhaps I had drunk too much after all…

An indignant squeak within the room voiced agreement.

‘Oh, be quiet!’ I snapped.

‘Mr Linton, I haven’t said a single word for the past minute.’

‘I wasn’t t-talking to you! I was referring to them.’ My chin jerked towards the smirking yellow piggies in the corner. They stood up and began dancing a jig, smiling at me. I reluctantly smiled back. I couldn’t help it, I hadn’t seen them in a while.

Mr Ambrose’s eyes cut to the corner then slowly travelled back to me.

‘Mr Linton, have you consumed—’ Shaking his head, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose.

Some time passed before I heard his voice again. ‘Mr Linton, exactly how much alcohol did you drink?’

My head turned from the lively dancing piggies to look at him. I grinned.

‘Enough to be piss drunk.’

‘Mr Linton!’

‘Where did that phrase come from anyway? Piss drunk? Can piss be d-drunk? Perhaps it can? I’ve never seen that. Someone should check that out. But th-they have to close their nose. It would smell pretty bad.’

‘Silence, Mr Linton!’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because I said so.’

‘That’s n-not a good enough reason to.’ I threw my hands in the air exasperatedly. ‘Who do you think you are, telling me—’

In my protest, both hands had let go of the door knob that was keeping me upright. I stumbled and in the next second, the floor decided to make its existence known.

‘Ouch!’

The evil floor had struck again! The coward had waited over a year to make its attack. I shouldn’t have underestimated its capabilities. I should have—

I felt something solid lift me up and support me against something even more solid.

‘Mr Linton.’ A voice breathed into my ear. A cold voice. One that made me feel all tingly inside.

‘I’m all right. The floor attacked me.’

‘All right? All right is not how I would currently describe you, Mr Linton.’

‘How would you describe me then?’ My muffled voice spoke against his tailcoat.

‘Fully inebriated to the point of being physically uncoordinated.’ Ice shards lined his voice. ‘Tell me, Mr Linton. I gave you a job — an extremely crucial one for an investigation, did I not? But here you return, completely drunk.’

‘I’m not that drunk!’ With considerable effort, I freed my head from the confines of his firm chest so I could look at him directly. ‘Also, h-how do you know I didn’t make progress on your indicat…instiga…inspiration?’

His sea-coloured eyes darkened as they inspected me intently.

‘Let’s say I have a hunch.’

‘Bu-But that’s where you’re wrong, Sir!’ My finger jabbed against his chest. Fortunately, it didn’t break. My finger, that is. ‘I did start on the task you gave me!’

‘Is that so, Mr Linton?’

‘It is, Mr Ambrose!’ I triumphantly exclaimed. ‘One of your female staff will translate my interviews tomorrow.’

‘How did you manage that?’

‘Just a small, friendly bet. If I could beat her at drinking, she agreed to translate. And beat her, I did. Boy it wasn’t easy! French people, especially singers, sure can drink!’

‘I’m certain they can.’ His face was expressionless. ‘So you drank during the job to start the job?’

‘That I did, Sir!’ I smiled in a fabulously impish manner. ‘Now I have a translator and tomorrow, I’ll be able to work on the…on the…what was that word you said? Oh right, the irritation. I can irritate. Starting with the staff early in the morning.’

‘I’m sure you will, Mr Linton.’

‘Thank you, Mr Ambrose.’ I beamed at him. If only he could be this encouraging more often.

His grasp on me tightened as he pulled me to my feet.

‘However, I want to add that I’m not so sure it will be early. Given your current state…you might be busy attending to other matters when you wake up.’

My brows furrowed. I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant when the floor took the opportunity to strike again. I stumbled.

That was enough! The floor wouldn’t leave me alone already, the nefarious villain!

‘Stupid floor!’ I stamped my foot to kick it. ‘How d-dare you!’

‘Mr Linton?’

‘What did I ever do to you? Besides walking all over you?’ I glanced at the yellow piggies, now sitting down and playing cards. ‘You better not hurt them either! They’re my precious friends, do you hear?’

‘Mr Linton…what are you doing?’

‘Talking with the floor, can’t you see?’

‘Mr Linton, I better escort you to your room upstairs.’

‘It can wait. This floor needs a serious scolding!’

‘That’s it.’ Leaning down, he swept under my legs with a swift kick and held me up with his strong arms. ‘Upstairs. Now.’

He moved too fast for me to discern and before I knew it, we were already out the door.

‘Hey! Put me down!’ I protested.

‘Why? So you can continue to yell and wake the rest of the residents in your drunken state?’

I scowled. ‘In my defence, the floor had it coming.’

He chose to not reply, moving stealthily through the darkness as we reached the stairs. He started up them effortlessly, my considerable weight not slowing him down in the slightest.

The only noise I could hear in the empty hallway were his faint steps. Surprisingly, the even rhythm of them as we ascended the stairway was comforting. Unwillingly my head slumped against his chest, unable to resist the warm firmness emanating from him.

I sighed. ‘You’re a blasted chauvinistic miser, you know that?’

‘Yes. I’m well aware from how you’ve informed me on numerous occasions.’

We both settled into silence as he reached the last stair. Marching down a corridor, he finally spoke again in a low tone. I had to strain to hear his words.

‘Is that why you said no? Back in Battlewood?’

My eyes flew open. There was no need to ask what he was talking about. I already knew.

I blinked hard as I tried to push the drowsiness out of my eyes. I glanced up at him to see his gaze focused straight ahead. His expression betrayed nothing save the tension in his clenched jaw.

I bit my lip, trying to think.

‘Yes. Also no.’ I stated after much deliberation.

‘Logically, that doesn’t make any sense.’

‘I’m not a logical person, Mr Ambrose.’

‘But you should be in this situation.’ His eyes cut down to me as he stopped in front of a door. My eyes met his, trapped and unable to look anywhere else but at the icy force resonating from them. My breath hitched in my throat. ‘I know you love me — you made that quite clear already. Back in England, I meant it when I told you that you would be mine, fully and completely.’

‘There it is!’ I crossed my arms, frowning. ‘See, this is exactly what I mean by chauvinistic! When a woman says no, you can’t act otherwise.’

‘Really?’ His frosty stare was relentless. ‘Even if said woman didn’t mean it?’

‘What makes you think I didn’t mean it?’ I glared back. ‘I said no for exactly this reason.’

He grumbled something under his breath too low for me to hear then pushed the door open. I was about to continue my argument when I saw the view in front of us.

The ceiling was high, with an intricate system of wooden rafters. But that wasn’t the best part.

The best part was the view the expansive window offered.

In front of me lay the city of Paris, illuminated by the countless shining lights that extended out into the horizon. I could even see the glimmering waters of the Seine, reflecting the moonlight that extended beyond into the room itself.

I inhaled sharply, unable to take my eyes off of the resplendent scene.

‘Where are we?’ I breathed out.

‘The attic. You’re going to be stored with the rest of the cleaning supplies here.’

I looked around but on the contrary, I could only see a broom in the corner. Faint dust lined the floor and glittering cobwebs hung from the rafters.

Not that I minded. The small things didn’t diminish the beauty I saw. Not in the slightest.

‘I take it that you find the place suitable?’

I managed a nod.

‘Adequate. This is where you will be staying for the time being.’ My eyes looked up to meet his intense gaze. ‘You won’t disturb anyone and this place comes with a lock to prevent you from causing problems.’

My fingers slowly reached up and gently traced his cheek. ‘I appreciate the gesture, Sir. But you already know it takes more than a lock to shut me in.’

He snorted. Still holding me in his arms, he strode over to a cot placed by the window. Unlike the other objects in the room, this one looked recently prepared.

Warmth bloomed when I realised that he had already readied it for me earlier. Much before I had stumbled back into his office after drinking. I looked back at him in awe only to see guarded coldness in his eyes. He looked away and my eyes narrowed.

He slowly set me down on the cot. In one fluid motion, he tugged the blankets over me. ‘There. Now sleep. You need to be ready for tomorrow to continue investigating.’

With a glance in my direction, he rose and turned to leave. That is, until something made him stop. He looked down and pivoted on his heel to face me.

‘What is it?’

Releasing my grip from his tailcoat sleeve, I withdrew my fingers.

‘Why…’ I rasped out. I swallowed and tried again. ‘Why aren’t you looking at me? Do you not want to be with me?’

His jaw tightened as he glared at me. ‘That’s what I want to know from you. Why? Why did you say no, Lillian?’

I recoiled as his words pierced deep. Something tugged at my chest and I had to blink away moisture.

‘You already know why.’ The words were no louder than a whisper.

He bent down to a half-kneeling position by the cot, bringing his face closer to mine. I could see the cold fury slipping from his controlled facade.

‘Because of a few silly words from a wedding vow? Honour? Obey?’

Tugging away the covers, I pushed myself to a sitting position. My face was now merely inches away from his.

‘They’re silly to you because you don’t have to follow them. But can you deny that you wouldn’t make me do so?’

Silence. His eyes didn’t leave mine. Nor did mine from his. This was the closest we had come to discussing the issue. Deep down, I suspected that the alcohol was making me…chattier than usual.

‘You knew…’ I croaked out. ‘You knew for a long time that I didn’t want to marry. I told you I valued my freedom above all. Being an appendage to a man, being dictated on how to live, how that’s what I detest the most.’

He still didn’t speak and I continued. ‘But…I would have reconsidered marriage if the man would respect my wishes. If he would let me be myself. If he guaranteed that I could keep my freedom. If he wouldn’t try to control me. He’s not obligated to obey me so why should I to him?’

My eyes bored into his, unblinking. ‘Marriage should be a union between equals. Partners for better or worse. But that’s not what you want, is it? So far, you have shown that you would be no different from a typical husband that dominates his wife. You don’t even trust me to make my own decisions!’

I chuckled humorlessly. His head cocked, like a panther ready to pounce on its prey.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Captain Carter,’ I glowered at him. ‘Do you remember him?’

By the way his eyes flared, I knew he remembered him. All too well.

‘And…what about the good captain?’

The frigid set of his tone sent warning bells through my spine.

Mayday, mayday! Pull back, Lilly!

I ignored it and did something I would normally never do while sober. I decided to answer his question.

‘Remember everything you did in your parents’ estate? How you prevented him from seeing me by any means necessary? Including using your bodyguard?’

He remained unmoving, a personified statue hewn of polished granite.

‘But even that wasn’t enough for you.’ I continued bitterly. ‘Even though I turned down his proposal, you still decided to send him away. Straight into a war zone.’

‘The Captain made that decision and accepted the offer of his own volition.’ He ground out. His tone hardened even further. ‘Why are you bringing him up again after all this time?’

‘Because we didn’t address it before fully.’ I fired back, scowling.

‘So why now?’ He glared at me. ‘Any lingering feelings for him?’

‘I never had any feelings like that for him to begin with. I never saw him that way.’ I insisted. ‘I told you that clearly.’

‘Oh, but you didn’t.’ He rose and strode over to the window, standing by it.

‘What?’

‘I kept asking what he meant to you. You never gave me an answer. You even went as far as to make a deal with me to protect him. What else could I assume?’

I glanced down to see that his hands were balled into fists.

‘Because you kept treating me like a possession!’ My head felt woozy and my palms were shaking. I clutched at the blankets to stay upright. I wouldn’t back down, not now! ‘I’m a free woman! I can go wherever I want, with whomever I want.’

‘Physically you can…but with freedom comes responsibility.’ He simply said.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You know what it means.’ He sent me a look before facing the window again. ‘With actions come consequences.’

I stared at the back of his head.

‘You speak about trust,’ he continued while looking out the window, ‘but how can I trust you in the first place? You want to be free, to the point of irresponsibility. It doesn’t work that way.’

‘And you want to control, as far as complete dominance.’ My voice trembled. ‘It doesn’t work that way either.’

Silence.

‘You expect me to give up my principles, my values for you. While you keep yours.’ I whispered. ‘Why should I compromise for you if you can’t compromise for me?’

Still silence. It hung heavily in the air, tainting the space between us. Hurt and pain of unresolved issues filled the gaps, constricting our lungs as neither of us seemed to breathe. Even the yellow piggies in the corner were silent, raptly watching us.

I finally exhaled, once dark splotches started to cloud my vision.

‘Just tell me one thing. Why did you go?’

Was that a pleading tone in my voice? Certainly not! It couldn’t be…

The silence stretched on. My heart felt ready to plunge into further despair with each passing second.

‘When you refused me, I…’

His voice was hoarse to my utter shock. I urged him to continue.

‘Yes?’

‘I felt angry. So angry to the point where I wanted to take it out on someone else. My urges felt more physical. It’s not the first time I felt that way towards others but violence is a waste of both time and effort. The fact that my mind kept telling me to direct it towards you, I wanted to do nothing more than hurt myself.’

I watched him with widened eyes as his back rose and fell. Almost as if he were breathing heavily.

‘I couldn’t stay any longer. I took the first file from my “business problems” stack and it brought me here. Coming here didn’t work either. Do you know what it’s like to sit through and listen to overly dramatic romance operas all day? All it did was make me think of us and what I had left behind. It became a painful reminder.’ He growled out.

Slam!

I glimpsed a flash of something colliding into the wall next to the window. Was that…was that his hand? Did Mr Rikkard Ambrose actually slam his fist into the wall on purpose?

‘It…hasn’t been easy for me either.’ I murmured. ‘You left behind something conspicuous. Rather, someone conspicuous. Do you know what it’s like to have someone trailing you at nearly all times for the intention of your protection?’

‘I do.’

‘Do you know what it’s like to make up excuses so that your lady friends do not notice said person while you’re meeting them at the park?’

‘I…do not.’

Silence settled between us again. But this time, it felt more familiar. It seemed like something had changed, growing into a warmer feeling.

I nervously licked my parched lips. ‘I…I missed you.’

Silence. He turned to face me. And then…

‘I missed you, too.’

Across the faint moonlight, his eyes met mine and something exchanged between us.

‘Come here.’ I heard myself say.

He did, pulling me into his arms. My arms wrapped around him and I felt secure, snuggling into the heat his firm body provided. His fingers weaved into my hair and I felt him crush his lips against several strands.

After a moment of blissful silence, I spoke up again.

‘This still doesn’t fix anything between us.’

His fingers tightened their hold. ‘I’m well aware of that.’

‘So,’ I whispered, ‘what now?’

He knew what I meant. ‘We…could try what you mentioned earlier. Finding a compromise.’

‘How do we do that?’

‘First thing, you need sleep. Right now, you’re in no state to make rational decisions. Then when we have time, we will talk.’

‘When will that be?’

‘Eventually.’

‘But when?’

‘Eventually.’

I decided to not push any further. ‘Will you stay with me?’

After some deliberation, his chin jerked forward. Move over.

I did, making space for him. He lifted the blankets over us and drew me to him again. From his warmth, the drowsiness was becoming impossible to fight.

‘How do I know you won’t pretend this conversation never happened? You did that the last time I was drunk.’ My words were slurring together and my eyes were closed.

He sighed. ‘I won’t.’

‘Promise me.’

The last thing I heard before unconsciousness took me under was his words.

‘I promise, Lillian.’

— — —

Well, that was certainly such a pleasant, light discussion wasn’t it? On a less sarcastic note, I found it weird that a majority of the issues from book 4 were never brought up again and fully discussed in book 5. Almost as if someone decided to sweep it all under the rug and pretend that it never happened. Maybe forgot?

Similarly to my other chapter rewrites, I did try to make this chapter parallel the original but added several alterations I feel that give more depth and address the prompt.

#kinda an ask #answered #storm and silence #lilly linton #rikkard ambrose #yellow piggies #fanfiction #oneshot #writing prompt #prompt 7 #knowledgeispoweristimeismoney

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katiekat1321 · 6 years

Text

The Master and The God (part 4)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

When you stepped through the portal and into the conference room on the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier Nick Fury was waiting for you. He turned on his heel and spoke as he walked away, you assumed you were meant to follow him. “Okay, we don’t have much time to test you, work on your cover story, get you into the system, and send you off with the Gods so let’s get moving,” he explained.

He brought you to what looked like a cargo hold. It was a bit torn apart, crates smashed, and their contents scattered, but the walls and floor were still there so it seemed to have been strong enough to withstand whatever it had already been through.

There was no warning given; Fury turned around, cocked his gun, and fired it at you. You barely had time to create a small shield to block it. When the next bullet came you were more prepared, you formed a portal that shot the bullet back at him, just inches from his head. This continued on for a few more minutes, until he seemed satisfied with your blocking and defensive techniques.

“Okay,” Fury started, placing his gun back in its holster, “now show me what you can really do.”

If you were going to fight with your magic, you thought it best to be done in the mirror dimension. With a quick movement of your hands the world around you looked like shards of glass. Fury looked surprised, which based on what you had seen of him already was probably very uncommon. You smirked a bit as rotated the world, so the wall was now the floor, just to throw Fury off his game. Then you pulled out the Staff of the Living Tribunal, stretching it out and whipping it in a figure eight pattern. You could feel the relic humming with magical energy and you started your attack. You had to admit Fury was pretty quick and still had a few of his own tricks up his sleeve. After a few good hits you stashed the staff back in its own holster before creating weapons with your magic. You wanted to let Fury know you didn’t need your relic to be a formidable opponent, but eventually you grew bored with that tactic.

Fury was honestly impressed by what you could do. He was about to call it quits and announce that you had his seal of approval when he saw a shift in your eyes, they glowed a fiery orange for a split second while you mumbled something in another language. Fury watched you shoot both hands out in front of you suddenly and he was forced onto his knees, as if you made gravity pull on him stronger. They came the burning, it wasn’t unbearable. He could tell you were holding back, but it wasn’t burning his skin, it was like he was burning from the inside, like there was acid in his veins. Then it just stopped, you had put your arms down and walked up to him, offering to help him up.

When you offered your hand, you sent a little healing spell to him to ease his body, normally people weren’t used to mystic attacks like that.

“I’ll admit,” Fury started as stood up and brushed himself off, “that was impressive. You’re very strong, if only you had been fighting Loki instead of clearing out buildings. The fight would have ended a lot sooner.”

You frowned at that and decided not to mention that you had gone to Loki during the fight. Yes, you helped Professor Selvig, but you could have restrained Loki or stepped in sooner. The thought that you should have stepped in the moment you sensed that Loki arrived had been eating at you. You still weren’t sure why you didn’t. No matter how hard you pushed that thought to the back of your mind it would crawl its way back to the forefront.

You shook your head and smiled, pushing the thoughts away yet again, “The Ancient One taught us to not dwell on the past. We should worry more about what is to come.”

Fury agreed and brought you back to the conference room to create your cover story. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has learned that if you create a story for someone else, they don’t always stick to it,” Fury said with a sigh as he referenced the whole I am Iron Man mess, “And we’ve also found that having a story rooted in truth is easier for people to remember. So, tell me, how did you end up at Kamar-Taj?”

You sensed Director Fury was telling the truth, but that he also wanted more information on you. You knew any background checks on you would bring back little information and because Fury was one of the world’s best spies, not being knowing more about you and being able to infer your motivations and actions frustrated him.

“I ended up at Kamar-Taj for the same reason as many people, for healing,” you began, “I had knee problems from a very young age. The muscles and tendons didn’t work together, and my knee cap wasn’t in the right place. They dislocated a lot and caused me to break some other bones. I was in wheelchairs and physical therapy for a lot of my youth. However, I managed to live my life, I traveled and studied abroad, I went to college, studying intercultural relations and psychology, and nearly finished my degree. Then one day there was an accident. I was rear-ended and the accident… it crushed my knees. The doctors had to do an extreme reconstruction surgery and they thought it would help me in the long run. They reconstructed everything, the knee cap, the ligaments, the whole 9 yards and everything was in the proper places. But when I finally learned how to re-walk in physical therapy my stability was even worse than before.”

You could hear Fury quickly typing on his keyboard, making notes of some key points you mentioned. You had paused for too long apparently because Fury glanced up, causing you to quickly start speaking again, “My mom took me to doctors all over the country to see why my knees were worse and what could be done to help fix me, but no one seemed to have an answer. We ended up in New York City, sightseeing between doctor’s appointments when an odd couple approached me. The man was strong and gruff looking, kind of like a Neanderthal in some ways, but he had kind eyes. The woman had long flowing dark hair and powerful eyes. They were walking an orange tabby cat. Which was weird, but New York City is already so weird that I assumed it was somewhat common. They said they could bring me somewhere that could help, and I felt compelled to go with them, so I did. They brought me to the New York sanctum and lead me to the door to Kamar-Taj and then they just disappeared.”

Those were all the important details, the ones that would matter to Director Fury at least. You left out that when you told the Ancient One how you ended up in the sanctum everyone was shocked. That many believed you were chosen by the Vashanti for a greater purpose. Others told you that the Vashanti hadn’t don anything like this in centuries, so they must have seen something powerful in you.

This made your first couple weeks at Kamar-Taj very stressful. You learned slowly, but people acted like you should have been a natural and picked up the magic much quicker. You didn’t really progress much until the Ancient One explained that you could leave at any time. You thought back to her words, I know you think people are expecting great things from you, but you owe them nothing. Even if the Vashanti brought you here, you can simply learn enough magic to heal yourself and go back to your life. Do not let others stop you from doing what you need to. Follow your path, where ever it may lead you.

It may have been a simple message, but it was what you needed to hear then. It helped you to control your magic and energy enough to heal yourself. And when the time came for you to decide if you wanted to go back to your life or stay and become a Master of the Mystic Arts you chose to stay.

“Okay, read over this and let me know if you have any thoughts,” Fury said, turning the laptop to you. You read over a short paragraph vaguely based on your life. Your cover story was that you were a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who had been injured on a mission, but rather than letting you go you were instead given a diplomatic position, now to be an ambassador to Asgard. “You can use all your real childhood memories, your college major lines up with this career field, basically everything before Kamar-Taj is fair game to talk about if anyone asks. I’m going to forward you some mission synopsis files as well to memorize so it’ll seem like you’ve been with us for a while before your injury that basically gave you a ‘desk job’. You’re perfect for this position, just based on appearance you’re entirely unassuming. You look soft,” Director Fury said as he took the laptop back. You raised an eye brow at that comment, sure plenty of people assumed a heavier girl couldn’t do what you could, but it also makes the idea of you being an agent a little harder to believe. You were about to point this out when Fury continued, “That’s what makes the perfect agent, someone people underestimate, someone people don’t expect. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents come in every size, shape, and color miss y/n. But most importantly, you seem like you’re strong enough to stand a chance at fighting a God. I expect regular updates on the situation in Asgard. We need to know what we could be up against.”

“You do know the Asgardians mean to do us no harm, right?” You said, a bit confused. He acted like he was sending you behind enemy lines to collect intel, “They have always fought with us in the past and helped protect Midgard, I mean, Earth. Loki is misguided, but he was a rogue extremist at best.”

Fury sighed. “That’s about what Thor tells me too, but I prefer to always have the upper hand if possible. One last thing,” he added, “can you make your stick stand out a little less?”

You snorted, “I can ask the staff to take a more discreet form.” Fury raised an eyebrow at that response, asking you to elaborate. “The staff is a relic. It contains magic that is too strong for a human to possess. This is the Staff of the Living Tribunal,” you stretched it out again to show off the energy flowing within it. “If it choses too it can take another form itself,” you reply as it turns itself into an ordinary looking cane. You take a moment to silently thank the staff for playing nice.

Fury left you then, saying another agent would be coming by soon to get you your badge, a S.H.I.E.L.D. shirt, and those mission files. You decided to attempt to meditate, but thoughts kept flowing through your mind. You went over the last couple of hours and realized that you were not going to be able to stick to Fury’s plan. It seemed he wanted you to try and infiltrate Asgard without anyone learning you were a Master of the Mystic Arts, or anything other an average human. But Loki had already seen you, the guard Heimdall would be watching out for you, and it would be a miracle if the All-Father couldn’t sense your energy the moment he saw you. You could not keep your status a secret from everyone, but perhaps you could keep Thor unaware for some time. You would need to figure something out and create some interesting excuses as time went on, but you couldn’t have him asking Nick Fury why he sent a magician home with him.

You spent the night in a room on that helicarrier and in the morning you got ready to leave for Asgard. You got dressed in a pair of black jeans, the S.H.I.E.L.D. shirt you were given, a cardigan, and a pair of sneakers. Nick Fury met you by a sleek looking black SUV, your bag already in the back, and drove you to where the Avengers were saying their goodbyes to each other.

The two of you stepped out of the car and immediately saw Natasha give you a look, sizing you up and trying to figure out who you were. Fury went directly to Thor and explained that S.H.I.E.L.D. would like you to go with him to Asgard. “She was one of our best agents and one of the brightest minds we have. If the World Security Council knows we have someone with you who can tell us if something goes wrong, I think I can shut down those dangerous Phase II weapons.” Captain America overheard this and stepped in, telling Thor that this might be a good idea.

You stopped listening to their conversation when you locked eyes with Loki. He had a muzzle of sorts on, but his eyes gave him away. He was shocked and amused to see you here. You do have quite a few tricks up your sleeves don’t you, darling? You heard him think.

You smirked and looked down to your feet, More than you perhaps? You thought back in response. In the corner of your eye you could see his eye brow raise ever so slightly. It seemed he was underestimating you yet again.

Thor agreed to bring you to Asgard, though mentioned his father may not be pleased with a Midgardian guest coming with no warning. “I’m sure he will warm up to me quickly,” You said, one hand on your Staff cane, bag on your back, and taking a hold of the Tesseract’s containment unit, having to share the handle with Loki. I’d love to see that, Loki thought with a scoff just before Thor put a hand on your shoulder to steady you and turned the handle, transporting you to Asgard.

**If you would like to be added to the tag list for this fic send me an ask!

Tag List: @fiery-feyre @missaphrodite23

Part 5 -->

#loki x reader #loki x plus size reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #avengers imagine #loki fanfic #master of the mystic arts reader

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sikhyes · 6 years

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red ledger ━ taehyung

a/n: this is the first part of a (mini) series !! i’ve been working on this for a pretty long time, partly because i take forever to write -.- but i hope you like it !! genre: kingsman!au, action, eventual romance pairing: taehyung x reader word count: 4.145 warning: some crude language, action

“We need to ask her.”

“She’s in seclusion. No one knows where she is, let alone ask her for help.”

Taehyung suppressed the cry of pain from his thigh when he forced himself in a standing position to approach Seokjin and Yoongi’s hushed conversation. “Wait, hold on --- who is she?”

The two elders turned to face their newest recruit with a grim smile, as though they were afraid of their answer.

APPROX. 2 YEARS AGO [ FILE HAS BEEN PARTIALLY REDACTED ]

“You’re about to embark on the most dangerous job interview in the world. Good luck.”

The man with the glasses (he introduced himself as Merlin) gave a final nod and tucked his silver clipboard beneath his arm before he exited the dorm. Half the candidates (which were subsequently all male) immediately relaxed from their formal position and mingled together, laughing like old friends in matching tweed jackets. Their faces said ‘mid twenties’ but their attire said ‘aging fifties on tenure’.

But while the majority of them acted as though the severity of the situation wasn’t daunting, Taehyung turned his attention to the body bag (an empty one) sitting on his bed. His name was written in black, unforgiving letters as though his death was an imminent event.

“Need a pen?” A soft voice asked, a stark contrast to the deeper voices that echoed around the room. Taehyung turned around and was soon face to face with a small female, dressed similarly like the others. But the haughty expression was lacking and instead a kind smile highlighted her soft features.

“Thanks,” Taehyung said and gave a quick smile before taking the pen to scrawl down his next of kin on the body bag. He handed it back before deciding that maybe making a friend wouldn’t be too horrible. Even if they were fighting for that one spot. “I’m Taehyung.”

“Seulgi. Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

“Tae, is it?” One of the males approached the both of them. With the way the others flanked around him, anyone could assume that he was the leader. “I’m Jihun. Where’d they pick you off the streets?”

Their words were funny. It was as though they could actually bring him harm when he’d heard far worse from his step-dad at a much younger age. By now, nothing can break Taehyung. It was the only thing he had that helped him believe he could make it through this damn job interview.

Seokjin had been the one to deliver the news that his actual dad had been killed in a training accident, being the far younger partner who truly couldn’t do much due to the restraints of still being a rookie. His step-dad came into the picture soon thereafter, wooing his mother with empty promises and a strong fist. A fist that Taehyung would soon have to protect his mom and sister from.

After the unsolved death of his step-dad, he soon delved into a world of small and petty crime. It was after a pick-pocketing scheme gone wrong was he finally given an ultimatum: give up his partners and walk free or spend the next two years in jail.

But he was saved by the bell. Or in this case, a phone call.

Somehow, a mysterious stranger called in and paid the hefty bail, letting Taehyung walk out of the precinct with an immeasurable amount of questions. Fortunately, his answer came to him in the form of Kim Seokjin. After a couple days of weighing his options, he finally agreed to take the job interview in hopes that he could find out more about how his father actually died.

Turns out, he might have to actually experience it.

The training itself was brutal. Hand to hand combat, training with any gun known to man, dismantling a bomb as well as creating some, and the continuous laps around the whole settlement every morning. With copious amounts of reading and studying that tested on subjects from math and sciences to liberal arts, Taehyung managed to pass them all with flying colors. The poor kid raised on the wrong side of the tracks became to fill the Golden Boy position with Seulgi close behind.

If it wasn’t for her fear of heights.

[ REST OF FILE REDACTED : KIM TAEHYUNG’S PERSONAL REPORT ]

PRESENT TIME

The blast had thrown Taehyung back a few meters, landing unceremoniously upon the grassy hilltop. Shards and rubble from the explosion embedded themselves into his left thigh, provoking a grunt to escape his chapped lips. When he tried to sit himself up, individual strikes of pain from a clustered area on his thigh shot up and he immediately ceased his attempts. He could already feel bruises blooming upon his tailbone but the physical pain was incomparable to watching his newest home fall apart right in front of him.

He might’ve screamed but he wasn’t sure; his ears still rang from the explosion. Taehyung fought to crawl forward but two sets of hands grasped his battered frame to stop him. He felt himself fight against their restraints and despite the ringing, he could vaguely hear Yoongi’s raspy voice break through.

“Taehyung! Get up!”

It was like his body was on auto-pilot, obeying his voice without question like he was training again. But the sharp, individual pains returned and his body folded at the waist, barely supported by Yoongi and Seokjin’s arms. Once he was able to somewhat stand, his weight leaning completely on his right leg and the two males by his side, he faced the destruction again.

The large, classic mansion was nothing but half of its’ former glory, the rest has been taken in by the large fire still raging on despite the heavy rain. Yoongi was the one who was just riding up the road, involuntarily stopped at a hill where the blast of the bomb forced his car to inch back a little. He was miles away but the high point of the hill gave him a sickeningly perfect view to see the mansion crumble right in front of him. It wasn’t until he approached the scene did he see Taehyung looking close to hysteria, crawling closer to the old mansion.

Seokjin arrived next. Seulgi was nowhere to be found.

“Seulgi ━ ”

“We don’t know where she is. But her glasses…” The techie pulled out his phone and after a few taps, he pulled out a map that showed their exact location. Three dots were gathered together but the fourth wasn’t seen anywhere. “I can’t locate her but she’s online.” A few more taps and a list of the Kingsman members appeared on the screen.

Merlin. Galahad. Percival, himself. Lancelot (Seulgi).

“Well, we know she’s alive. That’s all that matters.” The elder members fell silent but the firmness in Taehyung’s voice nearly cracked and they didn’t have it in them to bring up the other possibility.

“Come on. The internal files are on automatic deletion if there’s any unauthorized explosives. There’s nothing else for us here.” Yoongi corralled the other two in the other car and hit the road.

No one knew where their techie was taking them. Familiar streets faded away to make way for rural areas to unfold by their windows. The neat tar streets melted away to gravelly roads and the sun above them lowered for the moon to take its place. Seokjin had fallen asleep in the front seat while Taehyung occupied the entirety of the backseat. When Yoongi stole a glimpse in the rearview mirror, he was partially taken aback at how young Tae looked. The stress of their job and the newest weight of their home taken from them was nowhere to be seen upon his soft, tan features.

Yoongi almost had a slight urge to just ignore the route and take them both away to safety. He was the first to be recruited out of the three of them, despite Seokjin being a year older, and he had an unexplainable instinct to save them out of their newest hell-hole. He already felt partially responsible for losing Seulgi.

“We need to ask her.” Taehyung had woken in time to hear the middle of his seniors’ hushed conversation. Seokjin sat at the passenger seat still, looking as restless as ever. His entire upper body was facing Yoongi but the latter didn’t even spare him a glance.

“She’s in seclusion. No one knows where she is, let alone ask her for help.” With the annoyance that laced the techie’s reply, Taehyung could deduce that their current topic was worn out to its limits.

Taehyung suppressed the cry of pain from his thigh when he forced himself in a sitting position to approach Seokjin and Yoongi’s hushed conversation. “Wait, hold on -- who is she?”

The two elders turned to face their newest recruit with a grim smile, as though they were afraid of their answer. “Go back to sleep. We’ll fix your leg before we get into the planning.”

Although the temptation to veer off course increased, the distance between them and their destination decreased. In only a few short minutes, the car slowed down to a crawl and inevitably stopped right in the small parking lot of the dilapidated motel. Despite its unseemly appearance, they were apparent still running with the flickering ‘VACANCY’ sign.

“Wake up.” It took only a couple taps on Seokjin’s shoulder to wake up the eldest but Yoongi had to shake Taehyung a few times to rouse him from his deep sleep. He had fallen asleep nearly instantly from the moment he sat down in the car; it was like he was desperate to leave reality for a little while. Once everyone was out of the car, Yoongi withdrew a large canvas duffle bag, painted black with a gold stripe running down the middle of the straps.

“Omelas.” Taehyung read the large, fluorescent sign above the motel. The blue glow washed over their tired expressions and Seokjin only offered a little grunt in reply before entering the sketchy establishment. There was only one guy manning the concierge desk (if you could even call it that) and all Yoongi did was hand over a bundle of cash before three keys to their largest room were deposited into their waiting hands without question.

Taehyung wasn’t sure if he was experiencing shock. He may have felt it when Seokjin first delivered the news of his dad’s death but he was stupid and childish. The sudden lack of a father figure didn’t seem to quite hit him as hard as it did when he watched his home burn down to the ground. But as tempting as it was to just hide away in an obscure forest in a cave and live the rest of his days as a hermit, his training was practically ingrained in him, keeping him from becoming an empty shell. For the first couple of days, he kept to simple workouts (despite his healing thigh) that could be done indoors. However, cabin fever hit and he nearly had to beg Yoongi to let him run a few laps down the streets every morning.

While working out kept his mind off their newest loss, Yoongi hid behind the massive glow of three large computers he set up. (“Finding our solution,” was all their techie said when Taehyung finally asked.) Seokjin, on the other hand, busied himself with rearranging all the weapons that were left in the car. Cleaning, taking apart, putting back together. After a week and a half, the clicking and sliding of metal pieces became the strange, crooked melody that they’ve slowly grown accustomed to.

When two weeks had passed, the three had realized the weather had begun to mimic their countenance. Gloomy, dark, and not a ray of light to shine through those thick, gray clouds. After Yoongi had lashed out upon one monitor that didn’t provide the answer he was looking for, the other two Kingsmen decided to steer clear until he found their ‘last saving grace’. Apparently Merlin got a tad dramatic when he was at his wit’s end.

Call it poetic justice but Taehyung knew there had to be some supernatural force looking out for them because right when the rain ceased and the clouds faded off, Yoongi immediately stood from his seat, the chair knocking behind him, and pointed at his screen.

“I found her.”

Seokjin immediately rushed over and Taehyung was quick to follow. In the middle monitor was a grainy, street image of a figure that looked distinctly female. Her frame was swaddled in a large, oversized sweater but yoga pants hugged her legs. The hood was pulled up and over her head but at the angle the camera took the photo, Taehyung was able to barely distinguish her facial features.

“Jesus… she looks the exact same,” Yoongi chuckled. Seokjin joined in but there was an uneasy tinge lacing his lilting laughter.

Her apartment (Taehyung still didn’t know her name) was tucked right in the center of a street of red bricked buildings. Each of them were exactly alike. Stone steps led up to a black door with a golden engraving the apartment number and two windows on either side of the door. Right beneath was a pocket of flowers. It looked like it came out of a perfect town of suburbia. Yoongi and Seokjin seemed to have braced themselves as they climbed up the steps, Taehyung behind them. When they knocked, he expected a sweet citizen to answer, maybe a couple kids at their feet. It was what he thought would fit in such a happy neighborhood.

What he didn’t expect was a gorgeous woman who reeked of alcohol.

“What do you want?”

Seokjin took in her entire appearance. Day old pajamas hugged her otherwise toned frame, a half-empty bottle of Hennessy loosely held by her left hand, and a remote control in the other. Something told Taehyung that the remote wasn’t for the TV but maybe something far more catastrophic.

“We need your help,” Yoongi answered. She pocketed the remote and gripped the doorknob on her end as though she was contemplating on whether or not to humor the three men in front of her. Even though the distinct smell of alcohol that lingered gave the idea that she was some kind of bum, her eyes were sharp and the way she seemed to take apart Taehyung with just a piercing gaze had him shifting uncomfortably in his place.

“Who’s that?” She pointed with the bottle of Hennessy before taking a swig.

“A new recruit. Our only recruit.” Seokjin spoke up this time and he held out two hands in slight surrender. Taehyung could already see that he was revving up his ‘charming’ side but to his surprise, the woman snorted.

“You know that doesn’t work on me.” And there was a mean, teasing lilt to her voice as she finished off the bottle in one last go. She placed it aside before pulling the door wider. Seokjin took the lead and crossed the threshold with Yoongi following. Taehyung was a couple paces behind before she shut the door.

Her apartment itself was relatively clean if he were to base his initial expectations on her appearance. Empty green bottles occupied most of the coffee table that sat in between the couch and the TV. A blanket was pushed aside at the edge of the armrest and if Taehyung was right, a glint of a half-sheathed knife sat in between the cushions.

“Alright, fellas.” The woman sauntered back into the center of her living room with a fresh new bottle of hennessy. “Here’s how it’s going to work. Explain why you need my help. You have until I finish this bottle.” She uncorked it and tipped back the heavy bottle.

“We’re still not sure how but Headquarters was…” Seokjin’s sentence died on his lips as the amber liquid disappeared fast from the bottle and down her throat. Taehyung’s eyes widened as Yoongi let out a disappointed sigh. “Holy shit.”

“Time’s up, handsome.” She gave out a little burp before wiping the back of her mouth and placing the new empty bottle along with the rest on the table. “Now get out.”

The ferocity that had laid dormant beneath her words was easy to hear and Taehyung had even taken a half-step back in surprise. However, Yoongi did the opposite and stepped forward. “We wouldn’t go to you if we didn’t have another choice. You know that.”

If someone asked Taehyung, he would’ve assumed that his senior’s own argument was comparatively weak to her stubborn stride that she displayed earlier. But to the new recruit’s surprise, he watched the strong resolve behind those eyes to crumble ever so slightly as she gave the tiniest of nods. “You guys must’ve really fucked up to have to come to me. What do you need?”

“Resources. Someone blew up Headquarters and targeted every single agent. There’s no one left of the Kingsman but us.” If the woman was shocked at Seokjin’s answer, she didn’t show it. “Can you get us in contact with the Statesmen?”

She grimaced but nodded nonetheless. “Of course I can. Follow me.”

“Who’re the Statesmen? And who are you?” It was as though the dam inside Taehyung had finally crashed down, releasing the numerous questions that he’d been acquiring from the moment Kingsman was no more.

“I’m Y/N. The Statesmen are the American counterparts,” she answered roughly but polite all the same. She could be patient when she wanted to be. Y/N led them down the hall and entered the small walk-in closet of her bedroom, beckoning them inside and ordered Yoongi to shut the door. Her hands shoved aside the hangers that held her clothing to reveal a password safe embedded into the wall. After punching in a long string of numbers, the safe creaked open and in it was a lever that stuck from the bottom of the casing. She pulled it down and the floor beneath them began to lower.

It was like deja vu. As the drywall rose up around them, it slowly melted away to be replaced with a faded brick foundation, similar to the ones in the tailor shop that led to the mansion. Once they stopped moving, she spun the wheel of an arched door and that too creaked open. “This door hasn’t been used since they first built the damn thing,” she grumbled as she stepped through.

The corridor that greeted them was narrow, forcing the agents to walk in a single file line. After a minute or two of walking, a much more modern looking set of silver double doors appeared before them.

“It’s the shuttle to the base level of Statesmen headquarters. Good luck.”

“Wait, you’re not coming with us?” Taehyung found himself asking. He thought his question was stupid but he earned nods of agreement to his question from his superiors.

Y/N shook her head. “Told you boys. I quit.”

“We can’t enter their headquarters without a mediator. We’ll be shot down before we could even step foot inside.” Yoongi crossed his arms as he spoke, quietly defying the woman’s impenetrable wall of stubbornness.

“Shoot first, ask questions later, huh? That’s a nasty little stereotype,” she sighed. “Fine. Only to keep you dipshits from dying.” She pushed through the doors and entered the slim shuttle. Once they arrived and they stepped out of the fast transportation device, all four of them were each staring down a barrel of an antique firearm.

“We got intruders.” And with a swift swing of their rifle, the butt of their firearm landed against their temples and their vision went black.

Their muscles were shocked awake, synapses firing and Taehyung jolted in his constrained seat. It took a moment for him to realize a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. “What the fuck…”

“Oi, you sentient, walking ballsack! It’s me!” Y/N’s furious voice echoed around the chamber they were all currently being held at and the man that was holding the incriminating bucket nearly passed out at the sight of the angry woman.

“Oh shit. My bad, Hennessy.” The man quickly dropped the bucket and hurried to free her. “I didn’t think you’d be with one of them.”

“First of all, what did I say about calling me Henny? I don’t go by that, I go by 22.” Taehyung watched the now light interaction with pure confusion. The moment he had met Y/N, she was all anger and alcohol and blunt statements. Watching her affectionately ruffle the other male’s hair (now that he was wide awake, Taehyung could see he was pretty young)... it was unsettling, to say the least. “Jungkook, do me a favor and let them go. They got nothing on them.”

Jungkook frowned, his large doe eyes turning back to the other three men. Seokjin was completely awake now and Yoongi was calculating every possibility of escape.

“Trust me, kid. They’re here to ask us for help.” At Y/N’s second urging, the male obeyed and once they were all free, they stretched out their sore limbs; they weren’t exactly sure of how long they were unconscious. “The Kingsman had been eradicated. Can you take us to see Champ?”

The trip to their chief’s office was long enough for Jungkook to explain the whole ‘Statesmen’ protocol to Taehyung. While Kingsman were given code names taken from King Arthur and his knights, Statesmen used names of different alcoholic beverages. Y/N was initially called Hennessy; she’s called 22 now. Jungkook was Soju. And their chief? His name was Champagne, Champ for short.

“But Y/N… how did you know the Statesmen if you’re a Kingsman?”

A heated glare was sent in reply and before the topic could be pressed, a set of mahogany double doors appeared before them. Seokjin and Yoongi stepped through but Taehyung was held back by Jungkook.

“Let the grownups talk. We should take you to see Doc, you’ve got a funny little limp.” Taehyung had a protest ready to fire upon his tongue but the sudden disappearance of Y/N made him hesitate. Jungkook saw the opening and took it, dragging the boy over to their infirmary.

Doc happened to be an aging senior with the most steadiest hands he’s ever seen. His title was his code name and with his comically blown up gray hair, Taehyung dubbed him as Einstein 2.0 in his head. As he got to work on changing out the sloppy stitches on his thigh, Jungkook decided to fill in Taehyung with the brief history of Y/N.

“If I’m honest, she came to us instead of the other way around. The amnesiac agent.”

“Amnesiac?”

“That’s right,” Jungkook nodded gravely. “She was found in the last booth of one of our bars, which is like our cover. Same as your tailor shops. Anyways, she was practically broken everywhere. Bruises all over her arms. A nasty bruise on her left eye, a cut lip. She was barely breathing. I was one of the other two who found her and when she came to, she didn't have any memories.”

“Was she lying?”

“No. She underwent all of our lie detectors and passed every single time. We were going to fix her up then let her go but she got into a fight with one of our stupid agents. Somehow, she managed to rile him up enough to bait him into a fight. In the end… she won. That's when we found out she had some type of training before she came to us. We interrogated her for weeks but she really didn't know anything. In the end, we re-trained her and offered her a position.”

Right when Jungkook finished narrating, Doc tapped Taehyung’s knee to signal he finished. “I got a message from Champ to go meet him and our new guests in his office.

The office looked like a replica of the Oval Office in the White House but instead of the ivory paint, mahogany was a running theme with the interior design. A wall of aged whiskey bottles lined the shelves and right in front of the two large windows sat a fancy desk with a man sitting behind it. He was twirling his mustache like an action star would and Taehyung found it hard to take their leader seriously.

But with how Y/N suddenly stopped slouching and the twisted scowl on her face disappearing at the sight of her boss, the other Kingsmen straightened up as well.

“We got to talking and we decided to help you find the one responsible. Once we get the perpetrator, the Statesmen will help rebuild financially.” The tension between Champ and Seokjin was palpable but they knew that they had no choice. “I see Taehyung’s walking just fine now. We’ll debrief you tomorrow. For now, get some rest. Y/N will show you to your rooms.”

#thekpopnetwork #bts au #bts scenario #bts kingsman #bts x reader #kingsman taehyung #taehyung x reader #v scenario #bts fanfic #v fanfic #taehyung fanfic #niniwrites.#mine.gif

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cthonebula · 7 years

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Ensemble Stars Superpower AU

Disclaimer:

-I actually made this list just for fun, not wanting people to take it very seriously. If you want to take some ideas of it for your work (fanart/fanfic), you don’t need to tag me or anything (only if you want, of course), I’ll just be so happy if you would send me a link of it, but you don’t really need to. It only will make my day happier~

-If you don’t like something about and you want to change it for your work, I don’t really care, feel free to do whatever you want~

-If any of this superpowers resembles too much of any power of an official work, you don’t need to tell me, I actually was pointed out when making it and I also looked it up to see from where it can be also from. As I said, you can ALWAYS change it at your will.

-It was originally made to be a bnha AU, but I changed it to make the options wider and have more freedom about the universe. But you can change that.

A little about the universe:

-The original units of the game here are separated as training groups.

-The idols in the game are in this universe in the superpower course. It’s divided into two sub courses, the fighting course and the social help course. Some people go on both, and some just go to one of them, depending on their power. The special corp. course only learns to fight and improve their powers on battle. They normally turn into superheroes or work in the military. The social help course uses their power on normal jobs to help people. They normally turn into detectives, doctors, firefighters etc.

Subaru

Electric Manipulation: He’s not very strong, but he can use it good in battles. He also pranks people by burning down lamps and shutting down electronics.

Hokuto

Light Materialization: This power can turn strong light beams into fine glass-like shards and sticks, which he normally fights using it like a sword, throwing knives or shield. People do confuse it with Ice Manipulation, since it looks very similar and his family is specialized with Ice. Since its weakness is darkness he teams up with Subaru quite a lot.

Mao

Time Traveler: He can travel for a short time back in the past. The maximum he did was going back to one week, but everything changed so drastically that he swore to himself to never going back more than 3 days.

Makoto

Technological Manipulation: He can manipulate any sorta of digital objects that he has his hands on. It’s more of an Electric power but he can’t lash out like Subaru does, since it’s made for very precise work. He uses it more for investigation, but he’s working to use it in battle.

Rei

Mental Manipulation: It’s much like a hypnosis, but stronger, he can manipulate someone actions and speech entirely by a simple touch on the forehead for a good time being. He also can read someone’s mind when using it, but he prefers to use it for good causes. Nowadays he only uses it when Koga goes into rampage modus in his wolf form.

Koga

Wolf Transformation: He transforms his body into a wolf creature. It’s very large and powerful, but if Koga is very enraged in this form, he can go into rampage modus, attacking everything, not caring if it’s a enemy or friend. Rei helps him to calm down.

Adonis

Sand Manipulation: He attacks with loads of sands, forming into different forms. When he entered Yumenosaki he could only form scary monsters and animals, which people distanced a little from fear. Right now, he’s learning to also make cute forms and help people. He also when his heart beats too fast from something suddenly, he can break the nearest glass into pieces.

Kaoru

Human Senses Manipulation: He can take out people’s sense but while doing it, he also needs to give up on one of his. People were scared before from him, since there was a rumor that you would lose that sense forever, but it was a huge lie.

Eichi

Psionic: A very wide mental power, it has a bit of every mental power possible. Eichi developed this power very, very young. It’s absurdly strong, so strong that his body can’t follow it. He normally never uses it since its power is uncontrollable and he can destroy himself using it too hard. He promised to himself that when the time comes he will lash out the power and won’t look back. In a group battle challenge he already almost died.

Wataru

Body Shifter (human): His power is limited to only humans that he knows the appearance. But he can imitate their exact voice, quirk and also personality.

Tori

Hypnotic Object Summoner: He can summon a wished object of the victim as a trap. If the victim falls on it (which is normally the case), they fall into a hypnosis state. Since he doesn’t like to fight at all, Yuzuru does the rest of the dirty work.

Yuzuru

Shadow Manipulation: He can only manipulate his own shadow, but also can stretch it and make it into a physical 3D form. The range depends on how much light is falling, making it 50m long in the normal sunlight. The shadow can’t be touched or hurt, but it can actually touch and grab stuff, making it very strong, but it can be lost if it’s in contact with another shadow.

Leo

Sound waves Amplifier: He uses it to make sound waves of notes so strong that it can attack someone; the notes interfere on how the attack will be (higher notes are more precise and cutting thin attacks; deeper notes are more imprecise and 360° ranged). Normally people do confuse it with Air Manipulation. He also uses outside battle and practice to help with inspiration on his songs even when his group members forbid him since he normally destroys stuff when doing it.

Arashi

Weather Manipulation: A very difficult power to use freely, but they master it perfectly. It also can’t be used all time since it can bring nature into chaos, which is a good excuse for them not to train in school.

Izumi

Ice Manipulation: A charming power, he uses it mostly to make cool shapes in battle. He’s powerful, but he makes his mistakes when nervous. He also projects random ice thorns on his body when startled or when he sneezes.

Tsukasa

Telekinesis: Very common power on his lineage, but he still needs to learn a lot. He can at maximum lift cars. It’s also very tiring so he doesn’t use that often outside battle and practices.

Ritsu

Dream Wanderer: A Very strong power, but not very effective in battle. He normally uses it to discover people’s subconscious and make his strategies. He also needs to be asleep when using it but the victim doesn’t need it. He also only attends the sub course of Social Help.

Hinata

Neon Manipulation: He manipulates the gas neon, he can store it on his body and shoot strong lasers.

Yuuta

Plasma Manipulation: Likely his brother, but their resource is different. He also prefers to shoot discs than lasers and can make a force field, but it still needs improvement.

Shu

Puppetering: He can control any power of another person that he laces his strings on. The only weakness is that he can’t control the victim’s power if the person doesn’t have the mental consensual. He also is in control of Mika’s power most of the time, so he can’t use his power in its full form, but in a very small fracture of it.

Mika

Magic Eye: His Power comes from his eye and it’s so strong and unstable, that Shu needs to control it with his Puppetering Power. They’re working on Mika to finally control it alone, but he feels too attached to Shu, so he deep down doesn’t want to improve and is afraid of Shu leaving him.

Chiaki

Fire Manipulation: A powerful young man, who in the past was very scared of using his powers because he could burn people very easily. He learned a lot over the years and now pretty much controls it perfectly.

Midori

Plant Manipulation: He can use his power to make plants grow and move at his will. He’s still learning a lot since a lot of plants demand positive energy to control, and he pretty much lacks on it.

Kanata

Waterkinesis: Very, very powerful mysterious young man. Rumors say that he can even lift the whole ocean if he wanted. But he normally uses his power to play on the school’s fountain.

Shinobu

Smoke Shifter: He can turn his body and everything he’s holding into smoke, making him an excellent young fighter. But he also turns into his smoke form unconsciously when startled or sad.

Tetora

Super Strength: He is very new to his power, since he bloomed very late. He looks up to Kuro who helps him to master it since their powers are similar.

Keito

Magic Archery: With a bow, he projects powerful light arrows on his fouls. He also has a very precise aim. He normally doesn’t fight, since it’s still a very slow art of fighting.

Kuro

Corporal Boost: He can boost the speed and power of his arms and legs to give very powerful punches and kicks. But since he’s very pacific, he normally doesn’t use it to attack anyone. He also teaches Tetora to make him stronger.

Souma

Liquidify Metal Power: He can turn any metal into liquid and make it back to solid at will. He also can manipulate and shape it very easily, almost making it a Metal Manipulation Power. He knows that people could use his power for bad things so he learned to have a very strong mind against any mental manipulations.

Madara

Body Shifter (Weapon): He can turn his body parts into any kind of weapon (mostly made by metal). His favorite weapons are long ranged machinery. He’s extremely talented, so he doesn’t train with a group but actually helps groups to train.

Nazuna

Super Jump: Very talented and hard working, he turned miserable very long jumps into too-fast-for-the-human-eye super jumps. Mitsuru says that even him can’t follow Nazuna sometimes.

Hajime

Healing: It’s a very good power but he’s still very young. He can heal Medium-sized wounds, but he still struggles with sicknesses and large wounds. He needs days to complete it. He also is only in the Social Help course.

Tomoya

Animal Whisperer: He can talk with any kind of animal and he’s very good on that. Since it’s not a battling power, he pretty much only stays in the Social Help course.

Mitsuru

Super Speed: He can run in a super fast speed, but he is still learning, so he can’t keep up with Nazuna’s super jumps. He also is very careless, making him trip over things while running.

Tsumugi

Divination: He was a pretty talented boy, but on the second year Eichi had a small incident and Tsumugi was mentally affected. He can’t use his powers since then, but Natsume helps on that by stealing his blocked powers.

Sora

Soul Reader: He can read people souls and know exactly their weakness. He has a little problem by reading very strong power users, he describes as seeing the person having fog around them all the time. But only Natsume knows about this.

Natsume

Power Stealing: He can steal any power he wants, only by a simple touch, but he can maximum use it for a minute. He pretty much uses Tsumugi power to know the things since Tsumugi has a block. He also respects Eichi’s deadly power and he swore to himself to never steal his power and possibly die.

I’ll be adding separate characters sheets for everyone if it gets popular or you can always send me a request for one character sheet and I’ll do it as soon as possible.

Maybe I’ll change the post in the future.

Last Update: 05.10.17

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2x4swrites · 6 years

Text

Tango+Cash angst???? hhhhaaaa im posting this at 12:30 at night it is what it is

It was just hard sometimes, you know? Just... hard. Rough to deal with. Not fun. Gabe isn't sure how to describe the situation outside of that. After everything, when he'd asked Kiki if she was really into him- because he may not have been into her, but she was sweet and pretty and he could've seen settling down with her -she'd told him no. She was gay. Which was cool, because he got to respond with "no shit, I'm gay too," and they'd promptly formed the first official 'gay but we haven't told Ray' club. Which was sort of fun, but mostly just sucked.

Not Kiki, mind you. Kiki definitely didn't suck. She's probably the funniest person Gabe's ever met, with the prettiest smile, and he just knows Kiki'll make some gal the happiest in the world one day. When she's not living with Ray anymore, because her overprotective, overly stiff brother would flip his shit if she brought home a man, let alone a woman. He'd probably drop dead from shock, and as annoying as Ray can be, Kiki doesn't want that.

Gabe's problem, however, is that he likes Ray. Like-likes him. Like, Gabe would probably do anything Ray asked, would happily marry him, and maybe thinks about Ray when he jacks off. It's that bad, and it's killing him, because Ray is gorgeous and charming and genuinely funny when he loses the stick up his ass. Add to that the fact that Gabe spends ninety percent of his time around Ray between work and hanging out with Kiki, and Gabe's ready to drop off the face of the earth. 'Goodbye, world, it's been nice, but you really fucked me over with this one and I'm kinda done.'

He guesses he can put up with it, though, because Kiki is a goddamn miracle worker when it came to confidence. The whole disguising himself as a woman to escape thing had ripped open a door Gabe hadn't even known existed, and it had been Kiki who'd finally talked him into buying himself something- first lipstick, then a pair of pantyhose, up until they just kind of started shopping for dresses together. Let it be noted that Kiki has really, really good taste and Gabe definitely owes her a big one for all her help, and all the fun evenings her expertly selected outfits had lead to.

See, Gabe had thought he was coping with the whole huge crush on his aggressively heterosexual partner thing pretty well, until he'd accidentally moaned Ray's name while he was getting fucked. Which was uncomfortable for everyone involved, and lead to Gabe getting sent home to take a shower and rub one off where he can moan Ray's name without offending anyone. That evening was kind of a problem, and it just kept being a problem, because yeah, it was casual sex, no one gave a shit if you thought of someone else, but Gabe still found the conscious effort it took not to gasp and moan Ray's name out loud really pulled him out of the moment. Raymond Tango is ruining is goddamn sex life.

He explains this all to Kiki, who is thankfully beyond understanding- they share a laugh about how he's ruining both of their sex lives, and Gabe feels relaxed for the first time in a while. Then, she gives him advice he hadn't even considered an option. She says to take a break. Get some time off work, stay home, and don't think about Ray. Cut the exposure and relax. Gabe tells her that's exactly what he's going to do, thanks her about twenty five times, and hangs up to call the chief of police. He bargains his way into two weeks off with promises to take double shifts when he's back, and when it's all settled Gabe begins to go about relaxing.

What that winds up entailing is multiple six packs of beer and a constant, mild drunkenness that leaves him feeling warm while he lays on his sofa and does nothing. It's fucking fantastic, until Ray, ever the stiff and the worrywart, calls him. Once, on his third day out. Once the next day. Twice, two days later. Gabe ends up taking his phone off of the receiver because the phone ringing is stressing him out, and he really doesn't want to talk to Ray. His mild drunkenness is progressing towards somewhere right on the edge of blacking out, thanks to Ray. At least that problem's taken care of, and at least Gabe stocked up on booze.

It takes a whole five more days before Ray shows up, physically, at Gabe's apartment. Gabe's pretty sure it's Kiki that held Ray at bay for so long, and Gabe writes a note reminding himself to thank her when he sobers up enough to not sound like a giant idiot. He leaves it pinned to the fridge. When Gabe hears the buzzer, he groans. He doesn't want this, but, wordlessly, he lets Ray up. Fuck it, he's drunk and annoyed and if Ray wants to deal with him, so be it.

Ray comes in to berate him about dickholeish-ness and leaving right before they started a big bust, and Gabe, drunkenly, tells Ray to fuck off. Ray spits right back at him that Gabe is acting like an even bigger idiot than usual, that Ray had expected better behavior even from a lug like him. That Ray can't even believe Kiki would ever be interested in an obnoxious, drunken, dirty fool like Gabriel Cash. Which is what really set Cash off. He sputters, trying to find the right words to say, to rebuff Ray's oh-so stinging critiques. Gabe settles on glaring and stating, angrily, that he's gay.

Gabe slurs out that he's "fucking gay, you asshole" and he doesn't "even like Kiki like that, fuck you!" He downs the last of his beer, tossing the bottle to the floor and letting it shatter. Ray just stares at him, blankly, and that really only pisses Gabe off more.

"I was interested in you the whole time! But now I guess I know what you really think, huh? You fucking dickface." Gabe surges forward to grab Ray's collar, clumsily, stepping on the broken glass as he does. It stings like a bitch, but Gabe's running entirely on anger and beer and it doesn't really register. When Ray doesn't reply in a satisfactory time, Gabe tugs him down into a sloppy, equally aggressive kiss. It's unpleasant but Gabe refuses to back off, until Ray's hands plant firmly on his chest and shove him back. His foot lands back in the broken glass, and this time tears start to prick at the corners of Gabe's eyes. Just because of the glass. It's just that.

Not the way Ray looks at him coolly, distantly, like regarding an insect. Not the way Ray tells him, voice flat, that he's straight, and even if he wasn't he'd never be interested in someone like Gabe. Ray turns, leaving Gabe to clean up the mess left behind. Vision clouded with tears, from the glass, Gabe cleans up the broken bottle and pulls the two shards from the bottom of his foot, bandaging the cuts. He wipes his nose on the back of his hand and drinks until he blacks out.

Gabe stops spending time with Kiki. She calls him a lot, which is nice, and she makes sure only to call him when Ray's out of the house. He appreciates it. She asks if he'd like to meet for coffee sometime. He suggests pizza and a movie at his place, so they can really talk. Kiki agrees, and Gabe can hear the smile in her voice. Gabe really loves her. He just wishes he loved her the same way he used to love her brother.

At work, Gabe transfers to a different division, starts taking only late shift. It's easier that way. He's on patrol, away from Ray, and he starts to find his groove again. Starts to feel like a real person. It's nice. Not that he doesn't miss the big busts, the excitement, but... Gabe knows this is better. For everyone. Gabe never asks about Ray, and as far as Gabe knows Ray never asks about him. Which is good. It's good. Really, this is what's best, it is.

Gabe goes back to cruising, shit he hasn't done since he was young, fresh out of college. He mostly just stuck to the bars, but he's feeling adventurous. Everything else in his life is getting revamped, why shouldn't he change this up too? Sure, Gabe knows it can be risky- he hasn't forgotten those poor kids who got murdered, including that author, and the cop who escaped trial. Gabe knows what can happen. He also knows what places get searched most often. He can avoid getting arrested and have a good time somewhere other than a motel or alley.

He comes into work one day with a split lip. Technically there's a black eye too, though he covered that up with makeup. His uniform hides the rest of the bruising. No one really asks about it, Gabe came in a lot with weird bruises or shit like this. The only one who'd recognize Gabe shouldn't have gotten the busted lip on the job is Ray. Unfortunately, Gabe's early arriving and Ray's late leaving. It's the first time seeing his old partner in a month, and Gabe begs god to call down some lightning and blow Gabe out of existence.

No lightning comes. Gabe ducks his head, silently grabs what he needs, and seats himself at his desk. He stares pointedly at the files in front of him, not really reading but still refusing to look up. If he makes any more eye contact with Ray, Gabe'll throw himself out of the window. Thankfully, Ray leaves after a minute of staring. Gabe thought he was going to lose his goddamn mind. He doesn't get much paperwork done that night, and when Gabe finally crashes into bed, he can't even fall asleep. Gabe settles on pouring himself a drink and forgetting.

He could say it all ends well. That eventually they reach an uneasy truce that turns into love and it's all sunshine and smiles and happily ever afters. Gabe fantasizes about that, sometimes. Daydreams about what it would've been like to marry Ray Tango. They're just daydreams, though, and Gabe can't live in them forever. After almost a year of avoiding Ray like the plague, Gabe gave in. Resigned from the force, packed his things up, and put down the rent on a little apartment on the other side of the country. The last time Gabe say Raymond Tango was when he stopped by to give his tearful goodbye to Kiki. She'd told him never to forget her, and he promised. Said that he loves her. She nodded, cupped his cheek, and told him she wished he could've found happiness here. Ray's gaze is cold. He stiffens at her words. Gabe nods, hugs her again, and leaves.

Gabe gets a job on the police force in his new city, working traffic. It's nothing like before, but it's just the change Gabe needed. He moves up in the ranks, makes new friends, and saves up the money to adopt a dog. He's got a good thing going. Still, sometimes, Gabe wonders what Ray's doing. Imagines him, happily married, with a wife, two kids, and a dog. White picket fence and everything. Happily heterosexual. Imagines Ray coming home from work to a cold beer and a hot meal, little daughter and little son excitedly telling him about their day, how school went. Gabe can picture it perfectly. Gabe lays down in bed, his dog next to him, and tries to picture something else. Tries not to hate himself.

In reality, Raymond Tango? Wonder cop and brother to the only other person Gabe ever loved? Ray's not happy either.

No one is.

#Tango and Cash #pls excuss any typooooooos im not proofreading this shit

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dustingrayves · 7 years

Text

reunion

Pairing: sormik Rating: K WC: 1917 Category: hurt/comfort | fluff Notes: ive been listening to this on loop and im dead. sormik reunion in the ruins

ao3 mirror

It's almost like a dream.

Mikleo runs his fingers over Sorey's face, touch barely there, fingertips barely touching the skin. His hand brushes chocolate colored hair aside, touching the soft feathers, Sorey's earrings still in place.

He feels like he's dreaming, another one of those cruel nightmares that dangle his beloved in front of him only to yank it away mercilessly. And yet, none of his dreams ever came close to the realness of Sorey's eyes, of the soft color and an apologetic twinkle as they crinkle at the corners, even though he has it memorized.

His subconscious had never been that cruel.

"Now we're even," Sorey says, his lips stretching into a wide, lopsided smile. His voice sends a shiver down Mikleo's spine and he opens his mouth, shakily taking in a sharp breath.

The words, words he'd said himself ages ago, hit something in his chest and his hand falls from Sorey's face to clutch at his own coat, stumbling backwards, dangerously close to falling off the edge of the hole again. A choked sound tears from his throat, somehow conveying all seven hundred years of loneliness and waiting and burning pain of being all alone with just that one sound alone.

"Mikleo!" Sorey exclaims, his smile long gone in favor of a concerned — almost frightened — look, eyes wide as he practically jumps forward, hands faltering in midair for just a moment before grasping Mikleo's shoulders, pulling him forward, away from the collapsed floor. "You have to be careful! You fell in there once already!"

Mikleo doesn't answer, his shoulders shaking at this point, sobs wracking his body. Sorey looks at him with concern, but his face swims in the tears that pool in Mikleo's eyes.

He hadn't heard this voice for years, decades, centuries, and hearing it again feels almost like getting hit by a pickleboar at full speed. Mikleo bites at his lower lip in hopes of stopping his crying, but it doesn't work.

Instead he lunges forward, hands flying up to Sorey's upper arms, gripping at the familiar shirt, so hard it must probably hurt Sorey, but if it does, he doesn't say anything, and doesn't say anything even as Mikleo buries his face into the crook of Sorey's neck, hands shaking when they grip and hold Sorey close. His tears stain the blue fabric, the fabric that muffles his cries.

His voice sounds pathetic even to himself, and guilt fills him at the thought that this is the first thing Sorey hears from him after all these years, but that doesn't stop him from weeping openly; instead he cries even harder, his knees buckling from all the strain. He would fall if it wasn't for Sorey's hands on his hips, steadying him and helping him maintain his balance.

"So—rey!" he cries out, leaving most of his weight onto the brunet. "Sorey, Sorey, Sorey!"

"Mikleo," Sorey laughs, his own voice obviously strained. He's holding back his own sobs even as tears leak down his face, digging lines down his cheeks as they keep pouring. His grip on Mikleo's hips gets tighter, pulling the seraph closer, as close as their physical bodies allow them. Sorey leans forward, hiding his face into the softness of Mikleo's long hair.

The feathers of his earring tickle the side of Mikleo's face and prompt the seraph to pull away. Not from the embrace, but enough to wipe at his wet, raw cheeks, smearing the tears around.

He takes a deep breath, the sheer volume of the air filling his lungs sending a pang through his chest. His eyes lock with Sorey's.

"I missed you."

"Mmhm. Thank you for waiting for me."

The ruins turn out to be pretty small, and with their knowledge of ruin scavenging — okay, mostly Mikleo's. Could you blame him, though, when he'd had centuries to travel far and wide, keeping Sorey's dream alive in his heart? — they find everything interesting pretty quick.

The nostalgic feeling is strong; Sorey fits right back besides Mikleo, full of wonder at the ancient language like he'd never left in the first place. The ex-shepherd seems a little upset that Mikleo had visited so many ruins without him.

Mikleo is gripped by an irrational anger momentarily, masking the underlying pain. "I haven't been gone for seven hundred years," he mutters darkly, unable to stop himself.

Sorey laughs awkwardly, eyebrows drawing together. "You won't let me live it down, will you?"

"Never!" Mikleo exclaims with defiance, crossing his arms and pouting in that way only he can make look adorable.

"Mi~kleo!" Sorey whines, snaking a hand towards Mikleo, whole body leaning sideways where he's sitting by the wall. His fingers touch Mikleo's side, running up and down over the cloth, just over that sensitive spot.

"Hii!" Mikleo gasps, spine straightening and body going rigid as Sorey keeps tickling him, forcing laughter to buckle up from his throat. He wiggles, trying to push Sorey's arm away, but to no avail.

Sorey descends onto him, both hands teasing along his sides until there are tears in Mikleo's eyes and a flush of breathlessness on his cheeks. He keeps going until Mikleo starts flailing, no longer able to breathe at all and doing his best to kick Sorey off.

The boy scoots off, watching with a satisfied yet soft smile as Mikleo regains his breath, sitting up against the pleasantly cool stone wall, chest heaving. The pleasant silence, something familiar to them both, stretches. Although Mikleo would prefer it not being silent right now.

"I wrote," he tells Sorey, catching his full attention again, "About all the ruins. I collected souvenirs for you." His next breath gets stuck in his throat. Tears prick at the backs of his eyes again, and he squeezes them closed to stop them. He'd become quite the crybaby while Sorey had been sleeping. "I-" he tries, voice betraying him. He pulls his knees up to his chest and drops his head onto them, arms hugging them close.

"Mikleo?" Sorey calls out, scooting closer to him.

"Sorry for being such a crybaby."

"Mikleo…" Sorey's voice is soft, "Thank you."

Mikleo lifts his head, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill yet again. He does a fairly good job, even if it makes his eyes sting. "Why are you thank me, you dummy?"

Sorey laughs, a gentle sound that reverberates in the quiet ruins, and also in Mikleo's chest. He hadn't even realized Sorey laughed this much around him, even when things weren't going smoothly. "For waiting for me," Sorey explains, "I'm really thankful. I— I want to see this world with you, Mikleo! This is what we fought for! A purer world… I want to discover it all over again with Mikleo."

Despite the tightening in his chest, Mikleo finds himself grinning, laughing alongside Sorey. "Yeah. You'll love it," he breathes, offering him a lopsided and shaky smile that makes him look small again, big pink eyes looking at Sorey as if he personally put all the stars onto the sky.

But those big pink eyes have circles underneath them; Mikleo looks weary, so tired now that he'd cried and went through so many emotions so quick.

"Let's rest," Sorey says, lowering himself onto the floor, unheeding of the patches of weeds grown through the stones. He uses his arms in lieu of a pillow. "You look tired, Mikleo."

The seraph inhales sharply as Sorey settles down, eyes going wider than Sorey thought possible, wider than that one time when they'd been children and he'd given Mikleo a giant, sparkling gem he'd secretly found in a ruin. "No, Sorey," Mikleo breathes, no more than a whisper, and it breaks the memory into a million shards, because those eyes don't hold wonder and elation this time; this time, they're filled with unbridled fear and panic that makes Mikleo's shoulders shake.

"I don't want to sleep yet," Mikleo says, a little too fast, too panicked.

"But you look like you really need it," Sorey counters. Mikleo knows he's right, that his emotions, simmering inside him for so long, escaping after all this time left him emotionally drained and tired and in a dire need of a good sleep, but the mere idea of Sorey closing his eyes and not opening them grips his heart in a vice, turns his blood into solid ice and fingers into a shaking mess.

"I'm fine!" he lies, averting his eyes and clenching his hands into fists. "I just got you back, I… I—"

His words fail him time again; he doesn't know how to voice his thoughts, this stupid fear gripping at his insides.

"Mikleo…" Sorey mutters, pushing himself back up onto his arms. "It's fine, it's just sleep."

Mikleo shakes his head frantically, his hair whipping back and forth in loose curls. "You just woke up!"

And that finally seems to make Sorey understand just what is going on. He blinks, shoulders slumping on their own accord.

"Just a few hours! I promise, no more than a few hours." He reaches out to grasp Mikleo's hand and pulls him forward into an embrace. "I'll hold you the whole time so you know for sure."

A remark sits at the tip of Mikleo's tongue, but he bites it back and lets Sorey pull them both down onto the ground. Mikleo ends up mostly on top of Sorey instead of the cold hard stones. "Will you really wake up in the morning?" he finds himself asking, needing to hear it just once more.

"Yeah," Sorey breathes near his ear, "I swear it."

"I'll leave you here if you don't," Mikleo says, and it's a lie; he could never leave Sorey in here all alone, but the brunet doesn't need to know that.

Even though he probably does anyway.

"That's fair. But you won't have to."

Mikleo wake up gradually, with the sun shining down through the holes in the ceiling, warming his skin, and then all that once, gasping sharply and sitting up, the debris scattered around digging into his legs through his trousers.

His heart pounds heavy in his chest, weighing more than usual.

The seraph looks down, almost scared of doing so, of seeing Sorey's body deathly still, but instead he's met with a pair of eyes the color of the grass growing outside the ruins and a soft, knowing, reassuring smile.

"Good morning, Mikleo," Sorey says, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Mikleo's ear, fingers brushing over the circlet hidden underneath the bangs.

"Sorey," Mikleo echoes, bringing one gloved hand up to grip Sorey's, keeping it right there, cupping his cheek. "It wasn't a dream."

The remark isn't meant for Sorey, it just escapes as relief floods Mikleo's whole body, making him feel warm and genuinely happy, but Sorey nods nonetheless, smiling. "Yup! I'm right here, and you're not getting rid of me!"

Mikleo lays back down on top of Sorey, so close that their foreheads touch and Sorey's soft eyes fill his whole sight. Mikleo's breath fans over Sorey's chin, and Sorey's against Mikleo's.

"I wouldn't dream of that," he confesses and revels in the way Sorey's eyes soften, narrow, and his lips part into a toothy grin.

"We have a lot of catching up to do," Sorey whispers, sending a shiver down Mikleo's spine at the close proximity. "I can't wait!"

Sorey's grin is highly infectious. "Let's start by me showing you a new recipe," he proposes.

Sorey's growling stomach offers zero protests.

#tales of zestiria #sormik #soymilk #eso's fics #mine

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welcome-to-chao-hub · 5 years

Text

Geoff was concerned to say the very least. Ever since he was assigned to this ‘Chao Garden’, he had to basically work with children. Only if you consider Shard one when he was being childish like the hedgehog he was based off of. But that’s not what he was concerned about today.

Today he heard someone angrily shout ‘I’m done’ around the halfway point and then about a few minutes ago after the sound of some glass shattering, the same voice yelled, ‘fan-freaking-tastic!’

The skunk went to investigate only to see the purple hedgehog angrily...sweep up some broken glass and liquid into a dust bin. ...ok given what he knew about the area, mops weren’t exactly readily handy so it’s not the weirdest thing he’s seen.

But considering this was....normally a happy-go-lucky hedgehog who was definitely angry and frustrated. Not exactly something he’s used to seeing, and her quills were definitely bristling to the point that he’s pretty sure that the ponytail she normally kept them in broke awhile ago.

He quickly left her be to grab a few candy bars from the vending machine and returning to see her glare at him. “You, uh, you look like you could use a few of these,” he offered, showing her the variety that he had. Her gaze softened and snatched one of them from him.

“Sorry.” Though whether the apology was for how she sounded not too long ago or for her actions now, he waved them off for now.

“Rough day?” he asked as he leaned against one of the registers.

She gave a bitter laugh. “What gave it away? Me shouting just now or earlier?”

“Do you...want to talk about it?” he offered.

“Oh yeah, sure, let me just tell you how I had a meltdown and someone probably got it on fucking camera because I somehow told their mom to go to a different store to go to the restroom when I was trying to point out we had more in the back and the daughter wanted to record me ‘confessing’ while I’m dropping twenty different things in my arms,” she said. “But you know, neverending line of customers or whatever to deal with when her mom was in line some....I dunno, twenty, thirty minutes ago? I don’t know, you try and keep track of when customers show up in line when you have twenty people in it and growing because apparently when you’re short handed in that stupid shop the garden has, you’re screwed in general!”

She ripped open the wrapping and took an angry bite. Oh jeez her quills were bristling again as she started pacing around. “And top that off with the fact that I didn’t take my first and probably only break at around 3, took a half-hour lunch immediately after that. So that’s about a five, six hour gap since I last sat down or even had something besides breakfast by that point! Next time I’m gonna end up eating is after our shift is over in an hour or two! And when I tell someone from the next shift or even my old supervisor that when I’m legitimately upset or angry because of something from a stupid customer or patreon or whatever, they try laughing it off or smirk and every time I see that from them it’s because to them, they’ll go ‘Oh Elise you’re so adorable when you’re angry!’ but it’s like ‘No! Not today! I’m sick and tired of seeing that!’ I-I am a person with the same emotions, I just have to be happy because we’re in a freaking happy place! Everyone tells me that I should just let it go but I just can’t!”

Geoff stared at her as she breathed heavily, before watching the young woman rapidly wipe at her eyes and her ears lowered in shame. “So rough would be....putting it mildly, I presume?” he asked, the hedgehog nodding slowly. “Anything else I should know about?”

“....Well, p-prooobably t.m.i. but kinda dealing with the lovely time of month but instead of physically it’s more....emotionally beating me up so some of those emotions are....being charged because of that. Love it, right?” she said, the skunk moving closer and forcing her to take the other two candy bars.

“Then from what I know about that, you’re gonna need a lot more of this.”

“And considering this is my Monday, by the end of this week, I’m going to need a truck load of them.”

“Definitely talk to your boyfriend or girlfriend in supplying you that!” Geoff suggested before patting her shoulder. “Look, you’re....you’re a good kid, just dealing with some rough things today and it threw you in for a loop. I doubt this kinda outburst happens often based on what I know about you, so this was building up for awhile.”

“The shop part of the Garden has been....rough the last few weeks,” she admitted quietly. “We’re so short staffed and even if we were staffed to our regular amount, there’s so many people shopping for Chao and Chao supplies we can barely get some of the things we need to do away from the customers done. Today was just...worse than normal.”

“Might be time to start looking into a new job if this is making you feel like this.”

“Maybe...I’m...still sorry I acted that way.”

The skunk waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. This has been a stressful day for this part of the area. Try not to worry too much and if you do at least let go of it one piece at a time,” he said, pulling out his phone from his pouch. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on someone myself. Just hang in there until the end of your shift, alright?”

Elise nodded and continued to finish off the candy bar. “Thanks Geoff. I...I owe you one.”

“At least start thinking of finding another place. You deserve better. That’s how you can owe me.”

#mun's writing; drabbles #guest starring geoff #energetic helper;elise #((GUESS WHO HAD A SHIT DAY AT WORK TODAY AND WANTED ELISE TO SUFFER))

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