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empressofthesunwriter · 10 months

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Isekai'd as Chloe

You were watching Miraculous Ladybug on your phone as your bus got hit by a truck. You died, it sucks. But a godly being gives you the chance to start anew in a brand new world. Sadly it's Miraculous, with all the plotholes, and flat characters, and don't forget worshipped while being a sexual abuser Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir. Could your day get any worse? You shouldn't have asked because you were reborn as Chloe and forgot who Papillion was. Someone wanted to see you suffer, that was sure! But you wouldn't give them the satisfaction. It was time to throw canon out of the window and make Miraculous a better show or in your case world!

Main Pairing: Reader/Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Chapter 10: All cards on the table

“Are you sure you want to progress like that, [Y/N]?”, asked you Master Fu.

It was early morning, even before school, as you sat with the guardian of the Miraculous in his little massage parlor and were discussing what you should do next.

Plagg was taking a nap on your shoulder and Wazyy was drinking like you humans tea.

“After Adrien is now totally out of the picture, the only way to get the Miraculous Spellbook is to: a) Steal it, but we could get the Colletor as Akuma or b) wait till Lila comes into the picture because I know that’s the day Mr. Agreste takes out the book from his safe and I can just say I saw him doing it and as a wearer of the Miraculous it’s my right to have the book or a copy of it.”, you listen again.

“And option B will mostly prevent an Akuma?”, wonders Wazyy.

“Yeah, I think so. Mr. Agreste wants just to keep the original book I don’t think if one of the superheroes of Paris asks him for a copy he will be upset enough…and if he will, then we have a candidate for being Papillion.”, you remind.

Master Fu sipped thoughtfully his tea.

“An Akuma at our hands or a step closer to finding out who Papillion is…Both options are risky in their own way.”

“That’s way we need to have Marinette now on board.”, you insist. “She needs to know about you Master so you can teach us both in the way of the guardians. Also, I think it’s best she knows my full story, I’m sick of it of being hated by her as Chloe. If our partnership has to work no secrets. Secrets screwed over the canon partnership of the ladybug and the cat, we can’t take this risk.”

Wazyy hummed in agreement, while Master Fu locked like he bit into a lemon. You bet anything in him, his guardian training was screaming no at this plan, but he couldn’t fight the logic.

You already knew Marinette’s identity.

It was only fair she knows yours and learns the truth about yourself. It will make you a stronger team.

Then you two with Master Fu would decide who to give out the other Miraculous and train with them to be ready on Hero’s Day.

Hero’s Day was set to be the end of all this.

Papillion would curse the day he decide to come out of his hidey hole and with luck he would lead you straight to Mayura too.

“I see your points [Y/N]. I really do, it’s just so hard for me to go against the rules of the order. I did it once and it ended in a catastrophe.”

“Please Master, believe me, it’s better this way. How you did it in the original timeline didn’t work out.”

Master Fu signed but nodded.

He trusted your judgment and knowing what had happened in the original timeline, he couldn’t really disagree.

He promised he would send word to Marinette today. This evening all cards shall be laid out on the table.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t a bit nervous. Would Marinette believe your story, would she see and accept the truth?

Accepted you?

For now, you could only thank Master Fu for agreeing with you and for the tea.

It was time to go to school to prevent another Akuma.

Reflekta.

Since she know Adrien and Chat Noir had been the same person…Marinette hadn’t been the same.

She had sworn… sworn to herself that after what happened last year with Kim no boy would trick her again.

Like possessed she had tried to find out anything about Adrien. Her room full of pictures of him. Presents for years and years to come prepared.

But that all got destroyed as she saw the boy behind the mask.

Chat Noir had always flirted with her, never accepted when she said no, and continued, even calling her this stupid nickname she detested after she told him to stop.

He proclaimed to like her, love her, yet he didn’t care how she felt about it and what she said.

Him been Adrien, who after all her research…no call it right Marinette, stalking had seemed like an angel from above was devastating.

Again she had been tricked.

And worse…she had become this crazy obsessed stalker because of him.

How could she have fallen so much all in the name of "love"?

Yes, she had a traumatic experience, but it didn’t give her the right to act the way she did.

So after she had returned home that day, she ripped and burned all Adrien-related things and took a deep look into herself.

Marinette realized, that she was probably not ready to let in someone again in her heart. She didn’t want to turn crazy Stalker again.

So she decides to take a break from all romantic things.

It was better that way.

Anyway, the good thing was that Adrien got out of his abusive home and Alya had not only cleared the Ladyblog of Chat Noir, but she also support Marinette in her healing.

Alya admitted too, that she had been an enabler. Instead of pointing out how sick her behavior was, Alya was so into supporting her ships that she didn’t see the red flags also.

The two best friends had a long heart-to-heart after Lady Wifi.

The midnight black-haired girl had a feeling that her friendship with Alya had only deepened and transformed. It was an amazing feeling.

After all these crazy days it was a bit funny to take something like a school photo.

All were still reeling from Adrien being Chat Noir, then him going into forest care and his father would face a trial for child abuse, that hearing about Juleka and her supposed curse was a nice change.

Weird, right?

But Marinette took this change to help her friend.

After the photograph had arranged them to his liking, he took the photo and Marinette felt her heart light seeing Juleka’s pretty smile of happiness.

Seemed like a curse was broken.

And she could help people without being Ladybug.

It was a nice feeling.

Then it was time for lunch. She was ready to eat with Alya and the other girls, as she felt how Tikki poked her through the purse.

Must be something important, since her kwami left her alone in school if an Akuma wasn’t on the loose.

So she told her friends to go to the cafeteria without her because she needed to use the bathroom.

A lie, of course, but the only safe space she could talk with Tikki.

After she carefully closed the door to the bathroom stall she let Tikki fly out of her purse.

Her kwami floated before her with crossed flippers.

“Marinette, what I gonna tell you will sound probably really confusing for you, but it’s time.”

She frowned.

“Whatever it is I’m ready to hear it Tikki.”

“That’s good to hear. It’s time that you meet someone special. The one who gave you the Miraculous.”

The midnight black-haired girl thought she heard wrong.

“Wait a second?! Does it mean it wasn’t yourself who choose me to be Ladybug?”

“No it was the honorable Guardian of the Miraculous…and he will meet you and Calamity today in his home.”

Speechless couldn’t even describe what Marinette was feeling.

The world…it was changing so fast.

As Calamity, you sat again at Master Fu’s tea table and enjoyed a nice cup of tea, only now it was evening.

You were happy that no Reflekta Akuma happened, and also that Juleka’s "curse" or whatever had ended.

One day, if things would be going well, she would be your sister-in-law. Also, you liked her, it was nice seeing a problem being resolved without the need for superheroes.

All in all a good day.

Still, you wonder again why Papillion didn’t make another Akuma today. Someone at least in Paris had to have a shit day. It was a big city!

Or…was he occupied with other things?

If he was who you thought he was then he was surely searching for a really good lawyer and trying to get Adrien back in his grabby hands.

But could he really be Papillion? Were the creators of the show so without fantasy, they just made the dad of one of the superheroes the villain?

…Well, Miraculous Ladybug had crappy writing, honestly, it would be shocking if it was someone else.

Yet, could it be so simple?

Maybe….you should just tell Fu after Marinette was on board and all, that you should just start swinging at Gabriel Agreste and see what happened.

You could find a reason why you attacked him surely.

You just wanted to end this show and then live a nice happy life in this world without stupid Papillion around.

Maybe some competent supervillain would appear, so you could use your powers really for the good of humanity.

You already have told Fu, that after Papillion and Mayura were done, you would hunt down Feast, defeat him, and get the Miraculous Order back.

Then maybe scream at them for an hour or so since their teachings were shit. In what world was it a good idea to take children from their homes and practically force them to become guardians?

So no wonder one day one child, Fu, snapped.

You still don’t get what sense it made to not eat for 24 hours and protect the Miraculous Box. What showed this test?

Whatever you would cross this bridge when it was time.

Right now you heard how the door behind you opened.

Every so calm Fu greeted Ladybug.

You turned also around.

Marinette was indeed transformed, skeptical looking around the little Massage Parlor. After she saw you, she seemed to relax more.

You gave her a reassuring smile.

Hesitantly she smiled back.

Master Fu invited her to sit with you guys.

“So you are the one who choose me as Ladybug and…Agreste as Chat Noir.”, it was not a question, she just stated things.

The master gave her a tiny nod, which made her frown.

“What made you think me and especially Agreste were the right ones for the job? What kind of method did you use to pick us?”

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. You kinda told Fu the same.

Of course, the master remembers how you have called him out and can’t help but smile a bit at Ladybug.

“Calamity asked the same things before I made her the new black cat. I assure you I thought at the time, that my test was sufficient, but I realized now that it was really flawed. With you I had luck. You are a good person, in and out of the suit, Ladybug. Chat Noir hides his true color well, even from me.”, he admitted.

Ladybug huffed crossing her arms. She said that she was glad that you all were at least on the same page now.

The Master apologize to her for the mess he had made, which Ladybug accept after a few seconds.

She was too good of a person to hold a grudge.

At least if your name didn’t rhyme with liar, but Lila was crazy smart and evil, so she had a right to hold a grudge against her.

If all worked as planned, Rossi would never give you trouble, as she did in the canon timeline. If she tried, you had already a few plans to counter that.

Then it was time to tell you her story.

You hoped all would go well.

Ladybug admitted…she wasn’t sure what to think of all that.

Her life, in another dimension, been a television show for kids?

How some misogynist dude and his posse gave her trauma over trauma and practically worshipped the ground Agreste had walked?

The universe was really against her, she been the punchline for many stupid jokes.

Your face as you told her about an Akuma named Backwarder had been really something. She didn’t want to think that she could have embarrassed herself so much in the future.

Then this Kwami Dime and Khee who had a sadist pleasure to let reborn people from other dimensions here, living the life of another, till it ended in suicide?

You been reborn as someone she hated?

It was all so…crazy.

Yet a part of her, who got bigger with any revelation and Master Fu telling her that this hadn’t been the first time nor would it be probably the last, started to believe.

Then you transformed back and her chin meet the floor.

Now all made sense!

“You are Chloe?! That’s why she changed so much, you live now in her body!”, she shouted, pointing a finger at you.

You smiled crookedly.

“Yeah…you guys weren’t far off with the alien theory.”

“You heard that?”

“Yep.”

This was mindblowing.

“So who are you?”, asked Ladybug curious.

You told her how when you were Calamity, that this was your true body, besides the cat accessory obviously, and told her as much as you could about yourself and your old life.

After that, she was quiet for a while.

You, Fu, Plagg, and Wazyy looked at each other.

What would Ladybug to next?

Well, she detransformed holding a hand out to you and told you smiling: “It’s nice to meet you [Y/N], thank you for helping me already so much and being on my side. I hope we can be friends.”

It was like a huge weight got lifted from your chest.

Marinette, and also Tikki it seemed, since the little kwami smiled cutely at you, seemed to accept you.

You took her soft hand and shook it.

“The honor is all mine, Marinette. I always wanted to meet you… Being your friend is like the greatest gift you can make me.”

That made her smile prettily, a cute blush on her face.

Yeah, suck it Dime and Khee, you were winning at life!

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phantomwarrior12 · 1 year

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crow can't discern whether the bubbly feeling in his chest is butterflies or that questionable stew that drifter gifted to him when he strays from scouting and watches the wolf cut cleanly through enemies. their sure, precise, and brutal fighting burning down the hive, almost a dance. but with more explosives. he's been feeling it more lately, averting their gaze when he feels his cheeks bloom a dark purple when their biceps brush together after walking down a hall. their big, strong hands pulling him back up from being rezzed. the way they tower over him, and he kind of loves being in the shadow of those broad armored shoulders. crow has never heard them talk directly, and the only time he's ever heard any type of word leave their mouth was when they were quietly murmuring to their ghost, their hand tenderly cradling his shell. he felt a guilty, small pang of jealousy for a moment. he wanted the wolf to hold him like that. with such love and trust. soon enough, he listens to glint's recommendations to invite the wolf out to drink, for a celebration of sorts. the first time he sees their face, it's a giddy anxiousness as he sits on a log beside them as he holds out the bottle of dark age whiskey. a small smile creeps onto his features, expecting a very handsome man to appear from under his hidey-helmet hole. it's a swirl of feelings when he looks at a woman- a very.. very attractive woman. woah. their hair falls out from their helmet, their captivating, striking eyes staring at him directly. " thank you, " they say quietly, softly. crow is convinced that is the best thing he'll ever hear in his immortal life. that smooth, gentle voice was like a siren song. their strong hands grabbing the bottle, brushing his gently. crow can hear glint cheering them on in subspace, hoping that the wolf doesn't bring up the fact that he is blushing heavily right now. after passing around the bottle for a good while, they decide to shed more of that menacing metal, hot shell they calls armor. crow admires ( he thinks, nonchalantly ) their frame, the way their muscles stretch and pull when they lean over the space between them and the flame to tend to it. the armor, surprisingly, did not make up most of their figure. they still were much bigger than crow, and he could see from their six-pack and lean, well-taken care of frame that they worked hard for. they invite crow closer to him to show him an intriguing file he asked about, but it was really just because he wanted to be closer to them. crow doesn't hear a single word emanating from the video, but completely focuses on their silk voice flowing through him. it calms him, almost. gives him enough confidence to press their thighs together. an apology is ready on his lips incase they move away, but instead they press their thigh against his, their hand taking place on his other side of the log. crow's heartbeat is so fast he can feel it reverberating through his very being, slender fingers hesitant but determined to pause the video. the moment his bright, amber eyes land on theirs, their rough palm strokes the side of his jaw. they meet in a slow, heady kiss. their fingers curl around the back of his neck, coaxing him deeper into the kiss. crow's hand runs up their other arms forearm, only coming apart to take a unfortunately needed breath. " guardian, " he murmurs, a indulgent sigh escaping his lips. their fingers card through his hair as a hint of a smile graces those beautiful, kiss-swollen lips. - lowercase anon

lightfall rises me from the dead with more scenarios and begrudging nimbus attraction

Excellent writing, friend! This is so adorable and wholesome! Makes me want to get back to writing New Light! ^.^

Welcome back, lowercase anon! My inbox has been mighty quiet without you!

#lowercase anon #anon asks #asks answered #phantom answers

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catsofcalifornia · 1 year

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Tildy and Gus from The Rescue House in Encinitas, California

Click here for more information about adoption and other ways to help!

Click here for a link to The Rescue House’s main website. Tildy (or "Matilda" if we are being formal) lived with her previous guardian and feline housemate, Gus, for years. Unfortunately, financial hardships and a change of circumstances required her human to be frequently away for periods of time. Knowing her darling kitties deserved more attention, the lady reached out to The Rescue House for our help. Ready for her second chance at love, Tildy can't wait to meet her new forever family! Don't let her size fool you! This lass packs a lot of personality in her petite frame! Super sweet and funny, she'll keep you entertained with her silly antics. For example, Tildy sees herself as a fierce tigress, protecting your residence from the birds and squirrels outside. Fantasizing about their demise, this teeny fluffball chatters and clacks with all her might! (Thankfully, the unsuspecting creatures are on the other side of the window, and they get to live another day.) On the playground, you can see Tildy's hunting skills in action. Watch her expertly stalk her string toys and the laser dot before she pounces! Once training is over, she's all about snuggles! Preferring to stay on her own four paws, she does not like being picked up or carried. Instead, she rather you brush her unique coat or indulge her with pets. Our girl is also highly food motivated and LOVES her kitty snacks. Make sure to keep the treats locked up, or they might mysteriously go missing! While she would be fine if adopted with Gus, she is open to living with other felines or being the only kitty in the household. We believe Tildy could adapt to most living situations. Confident and cheerful, she approaches other cats with curiosity and is not afraid of welcoming dogs. She adores people and would do fine with respectful children. Most of all, Tildy wants a home where she can spend lots of quality time with her beloved humans!

Gus "the Bus" is a cuddler, lover, and the softest kitty you'll ever pet! When he first moves in, he'll probably be a bit bashful and hide in a safe spot. Once he gets acclimated to his new surroundings, he'll turn up the affection to full blast! Just call out his name, and he'll come trotting over. A big fan of belly scratches, he will hold your hand in place between his paws if you dare to try to stop. To be clear, Gus is a distinguished gentleman and does not like to be carried like a baby... thank you very much! However, he is fine with you carrying him over your shoulder. For fun, he enjoys buffing his nails on the cardboard scratcher and hanging out at the water fountain. With his dense (and incredibly plush) fur, he would greatly appreciate if you kept up with his daily brushings. In return, he'll be your loyal BFF and fluffy shadow, following you around your abode. A chatty kitty, he offers great advice and meows of encouragement. If you look around and don't see Gus by your side, he's probably recharging in one of his hidey-holes (i.e.: huts, boxes, or cat trees with cubbies). As you get cozy in bed, he'll plop on top of you as you both drift off to sleep. A fair warning, if allowed, he will happily sleep with his butt on your face! Having lived with Tildy for seven years, he would be thrilled to go to his next home with her. If he cannot be adopted with Tildy, Gus must be the only feline in the household. We don't know how he would do with dogs. While Gus has no previous experience with children, he might be okay with respectful older kids.

#cats #california #encinitas #adoption #adoptnotshop

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poorlytunedukulele · 1 year

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Prompt 16 - Missing Moment

The Battle of Twilight Gap, April 21, 2871; The Last City, Earth

Well, this was going to end badly.

Andal eyed the artillery emplacement with concern. It had fallen silent, a plume of smoke slowly engulfing its location. It wasn’t an immediate danger to his fireteam (they were nearly two hundred meters away) but it didn’t spell good news for defenders on this section of the Wall. If the defenses were crippled any further, they may as well paint a giant target on their location.

The Fallen through this battle so far had been scary organized, coordinating attacks in tandem between multiple Houses. The Guardians and City Militia had been doing their best to spread out the damage, redirecting and repelling offensives as they were launched, but the Fallen were getting desperate. The City could hold as long as they had ammunition and food reserves, while the Fallen only had so much time before they wore themselves out or were flanked by outside Guardian forces. Today it had seemed they were gearing up towards another push- and now here was an opportunity, if their leaders were smart enough to see it.

They were. Only moments after the anti-air gun was hit, Skiffs and Walkers began pounding the Wall with artillery. The shockwaves sent people sprawling or scrambling for things to hold on to. The barrage was vicious. The fire only dwindled once nearby cannons were redirected, the Guardians in the field desperately distracting or forcing back the Walkers where they could.

As the dust began to settle, Andal was relieved to see the Wall still stood- though showing significant structural damage. But below, the Fallen were rallying. The Guardians broke and scattered under the pressure.

The Fallen would be focusing all of their attention on his part of the Wall tonight. If they breached, the Guardians would have to fall back, fighting house-to-house in the City itself. Casualties would be high.

Andal hadn’t been planning on staying before this. Two hours ago, they’d finally caught the trail of the Kell of Kings. The Vanguard had been after her for decades- she was normally so elusive. The battle had brought her from her usual hidey-holes out into the open. They’d just come back to restock on ammunition before heading out to hunt her-

But now the Wall had been hit. Would they do more good here? Would six hands be worth a Kell’s head in the long run? Could they honestly look at the state of things now and feel okay about leaving? If they killed the Kell, House Kings would be thrown into disarray. It might end this battle early. If the Wall fell, people would be dying while they were out tracking in the mountains.

Andal looked at each person in his fireteam in turn, asking a silent question. Do we stay or do we go?

He saw no hesitation in any of them- come Hell or high water, if the Wall fell or not, they’d be hunting a Kell tonight. They couldn’t let themselves be distracted now.

He nodded assent and the others began putting on helmets and reloading weapons. Andal finally turned his eyes to the young Hunter standing at the edge of their group. Azra looked a bit shell-shocked. Well, she had just watched someone sacrifice their life for her team, and now she was watching the Wall crumble before her eyes. It must have seemed like the end of the world to her.

For a moment, he had the urge to bring her along. He knew it was his heart talking. He didn’t want to leave her alone, not when she looked so lost.

His logical head prevailed. She was battered and clearly exhausted- her armor torn, her cloak charred and streaked with dirt. “Fall back, Azra,” he commanded. “Get yourself to the rally point.”

She immediately balked at that idea. “But-“

“You’re too new,” Andal said. Not even three, she was. She couldn’t go Kell-hunting. “Your battles will come,” he assured her, “but you’ll die out there if you go.”

Her face was sill pale in shock, her eyes wild-wide. “But-“

“Go,” he ordered her. He left no more room for argument, sliding on his helmet and swinging a leg over his Sparrow. The others were already waiting- he gave the signal to start off.

Later, he would remember that last glance he cast over his shoulder. He would remember the young Hunter standing there, scorched and unsteady and now being left alone. He would remember that she didn’t look scared- she looked worried.

He didn’t see the Ketch, or the explosion- they were far enough away at that point that the sound took several seconds to reach them. When it did, it had everyone stopping and looking back. Where the weak spot had been- where Azra had just been, there was now a huge cloud of dust. It was like part of the Wall had just evaporated.

Someone was holding Andal back. “Brask,” Tevis snapped in his ear.

“We left Azra there!” Andal yelled. Gods, he’d only wanted to keep her safe. Now wasn’t the time for someone as young as her to be running around outside of the Wall-

There was no outside or inside of the Wall now. The Fallen were in. And that blossoming cloud of smoke was right where he’d left her behind.

“Get a hold of yourself,” Tevis growled. He shoved Andal backwards, south, away from the catastrophe, and stepped between him and it.

“We need to-” Andal started.

“We can’t help her,” Tevis said bluntly. “If she’s dead, she’s dead, and you throwing yourself at the Fallen ain’t gonna do nothing. If she’s still living…” Tevis took a second to peer over his own shoulder, at the swarming Fallen, the flashes of gunfire becoming visible in the gathering dark. “She’s a tough cookie,” he said. “She’ll make it through.”

“We shouldn’t have left her behind,” Andal lamented.

“Well, we did,” Tevis said. “Can’t go back.”

They could- they could abandon this whole hunt, fight off the Fallen, and… what? Run and hide? Bring her along to get stomped on by a Kell? What if her Ghost had been damaged and all they could do was recover her body?

“Andal,” Shiro said hesitantly. “I know…” I know you feel bad, he implied. I know you care about her and you’re shocked about that. “You can’t throw away the Kell of Kings for her.”

“You know, I don’t think she’d want you to,” Cayde said.

They were right. Of course they were right. And they’d all just agreed to focus on their Kell hunt, Wall be damned. One more life logically shouldn’t change that decision.

That didn’t make turning back south any less painful.

“Afterwards,” his Ghost whispered to him. “After the Kell is dead, we can think about what this means. When we know how this turned out.”

Andal re-mounted his Sparrow reluctantly, wondering how heavy a burden of regret he’d be carrying tomorrow.

AO3 Linky!

#destcember #destcember2022 #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny fanfiction #andal brask #I can have a little angst #as a treat #god I love Twilight Gap

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devastator1775 · 1 year

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Kudos to the two True Guardians who were with me during my "Seraph Shield" run on Legend difficulty (for the exotic weapon catalysts). After dying a few times, and restarting the first boss a few times in a row, they guided me to a little hidey hole somewhere in the room. And while those two were dealing with the boss, I was sitting high and dry, out of sight and out of range, staring at my character glitching into itself.

Gods, I was laughing. Just the sounds of pure chaos and me sitting, watching youtube and waiting it out.

Same thing with the final boss, but I managed to find a hidey hole on my own, and did a "take a shot and go hide again" tactic. Never got hit. AND I managed to use my super to finish him off.

In comparison with the guy yesterday who kicked me of the fireteam as we were near the end, this was a refreshi g experience and a remi der why i love Destiny 2 so much.

#destiny #seraph's shield

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casebasket · 4 years

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The Mystrade Treatise

I am long, long out of the Sherlock fandom, but I still have a soft spot for mystrade after ~ 7 odd years (the only thing I really cared about in the show), so when a friend asked about mystrade I hit them with a spontaneous 2000 word block of text. I thought I’d share it as an homage to the still quietly existing community of mystrade shippers out there. Basically, in this essay I will argue for my interpretation of how the BBC TV show Sherlock (2012) establishes an implied relationship between Mycroft, (The Government) and Lestrade (The Force) in the subtext. This analysis will be broken down to two parts: 1) show chronology / their history and 2) their compatibility, which can be further split into 2a) personalities and 2b) external circumstances.

(The beginning is the only formal(ish) part of - I’m calling it a treatise -, the rest of the piece is written in “I typed it all in messenger app” style. This all came out off the top of my head, so if you think I’m missing something I’m open to the callout)

TL;DR: I’m still mystrade trash and I’m pulling the receipts on mystrade canon

1) Their history - it's clear they know each other and are in communication with each other since the very beginning - and very likely even before - the events of the show. Just a show tidbit, the ending of the pilot episode has Lestrade watch John and Sherlock walk away happily staring into each other's eyes and tell Donovan about their potential as partners, whereas the actual first episode replaces him with Mycroft talking to his assistant Anthea, which shows their character parallels. In one aspect, their role as "aggravated older guardian" is a shared one and one that - rationally, but in fanon - allows them to commiserate with other another. Also, Mycroft kidnaps John in his very first day of him meeting Sherlock, so reasonable to conclude he did the same to Lestrade, so they've clearly met. And, I believe it's canon that Lestrade helped Sherlock with his drug problem, so he's clearly run into Mycroft, whether it's because his brother's OD'd or found with possession or whatever whatever. The possibilities are endless.

We have hints of them knowing each other throughout the show - in season 2 episode 2 the Hound of Baskerville (I am surprised and appalled I know this off by heart instead of more important things), the duo meets Lestrade in a tavern where he's clearly back from holiday and when Sherlock eggs him by basically calling him Mycroft's lackey, he, aggrieved, says "I don't just do what your brother tells me", which is a line I still unfortunately remember over 5 years later, and that is the first precedent set in canon that they clearly communicate. We can interpret this line, given the circumstances, that Mycroft asked him to cut his vacation short to go check up on his brother, and Lestrade, being whipped, was like fine.

This is mere speculation, but in that mini episode, Many Happy Returns, Lestrade is listening to Anderson go on about his conspiracy theories on how Sherlock is still alive, and at the end of it he passes a newspaper article about Sherlock, and he smiles at it like he KNOWS he's still alive somewhere even though he just walked out calling Anderson on his bullshit and dismissing his theories, and I like to interpret that as Mycroft told him Sherlock's still alive. Plus, when Sherlock greets him after his two year absence, the way Lestrade reacts is less “am I seeing a ghost because you’re supposed to be dead” and more “you’re finally back I already know you were alive because my boyfriend Mycroft told me”.

The first time we see them in frame together (in the mystrade community this is famously known as the 29 frames moment because they only showed up for - 29 frames, like 2 seconds) was in season 3 episode 3, where Sherlock goes missing and everyone looks for him in the hidey holes they know of. Lestrade is seen in Mycroft's office while Mycroft tells him about potential hiding spots. Honestly he did look hella dismissive and rude but you know what? Everyone was stressed. But this shows not only is Lestrade trusted in his secret government offices - and likely this was the secret one because it looked like a cellar - but he trusts Lestrade implicitly. When Sherlock is about to leave on a plane, Lestrade's in a pub watching the TV screen when Moriarty's face is all over it and the very next scene we see Mycroft on the phone with someone getting the news that this was happening. Coincidence? I think NOT - Lestrade called up Mycroft and told him, CANON.

And then there's the Christmas special or whatever it was, about the abominable bride, and yes, this one is set in Sherlock's drug fevered mind, but that only means that, in Sherlock's mind, he sees the two of them as a set (Sherlock ships it confirmed lol). During the whole episode when we see the canon versions of Mycroft and Lestrade they are together as a unit. When John leaves him, Sherlock's mind goes to the most reliable thing in his life to help him, which is his brother (and his brother's boyfriend) and his friend Lestrade to help him, together. Sherlock asks the two of them to help him dig up a body and they share a Look, which is clearly Mycroft's way of asking Lestrade to do the dirty work of actually digging and Lestrade resignedly concedes because there is no other way to analyse the Look, and in the next scene we see Sherlock and Lestrade digging in a grave while Mycroft holds up a lantern because Mycroft doesn't like legwork and Lestrade, clearly his boyfriend in Sherlock's mind, understands this and is willing to accommodate.

And then we have the whole of S4, or as I like to call it, Johnlock hell but mystrade victories!, because in s4e1 when Mary is shot in the aquarium, the first person they look at is each other, indicating they take some level of comfort or seek it out from one another in a room full of other people, also the two of them arrived together so they clearly coordinated, also when the gun was lifted Mycroft looks shocked and steps back a bit while Lestrade moves forward in a “ready to step in” protective gesture, and this all happened in the same frame, and there are gifsets of this happening, and everyone was quietly screaming (Johnlockers in pain, mystrade shippers in "look at them sharing a frame together look at these scraps we're getting"). In the second ep we don't see them together but we do see Mycroft getting hit on by Lady Smallwood and he looks hella uncomfortable about it, while Lestrade is talking with another detective and Sherlock shoots him down telling him she's not the one (because clearly we all know who is the one and Sherlock knows it's his brother).

Oh yeah also jumping back to S3, Mycroft is saying no one can match him and he sees everyone as goldfish but Sherlock is like oh really and was lowkey concerned about him and that's how the mystrade fandom got this whole goldfish thing and it's adorable (special shout out to duchessclovery ‘s masterful fanvid romcom series A Fish Called Greg), and in the wedding ep Sherlock calls Mycroft to attend the wedding but he refuses, and Sherlock says "specter in the feast" to entice him and I like to interpret that as him lowkey jabbing him with a *in*spector in the feast because Lestrade was there looking tired and lonely throughout the whole ep lmaaaaaaaaaaaaao.

Anyway back to S4E2, Mycroft is getting hit on, Lestrade is the most tired we've ever seen him, Sherlock is trying to waive off Lestrade's suitors to save him for his brother. Why is Lestrade so tired? Yes, he's questioning a suspect or something, but also! maybe it's related to his love interest getting hit on, who knows???? And lastly, the last ep of S4, the golden era of mystrade, at the very end of the episode after we've seen Mycroft at his most vulnerable, Sherlock asks Lestrade to "take care of him (Mycroft). he's not as strong as he seems". This was an explicit request by Sherlock, addressing Lestrade correctly for the first time, to take care of his brother, and Lestrade says yes. Of course I will. S4 ended with the promise of the him taking care of Mycroft and honestly I don't care about the entire episode except that part

2) A: their personalities: so, Mycroft, as his colleagues know him, is ~ the ice man ~. He's hard to know, even harder and more stubborn and isolated than his brother, and on top of that he's like, contractually obligated under his top secret government job to not be known. That makes him, and this is canon as Sherlock discussed his loneliness with him in S3, even more lonely than his brother, and probably, as much as he likes to think himself more accommodating than his brother and he can definitely pretend for the sake of appearances, more difficult to deal with than Sherlock if he really sets his mind to it. But he's not a complete block of ice - after all, ice can melt - and he has soft spots for his family, esp. his unruly little brother, and by extension (maybe more necessity than real care, but still) the people his brother affiliates with. Because Sherlock is so tricky to deal with, I believe he has a soft spot for people who share that softness for his spiky sibling, and no one cares for Sherlock as he does except for Mrs Hudson, John, and Lestrade. Lestrade's done it for even longer than John, and in the show plays a somewhat paternal figure to Sherlock despite him causing him even more stress sometimes than solving cases for him would relieve. Lestrade is shown to drop everything to help Sherlock when he needs it, and is considered one of his best friends when Moriarty put a sniper on each of Sherlock's closest acquaintances (Lestrade was a target). Lestrade always saw the good in Sherlock despite everything, and believed he could be great. Very few sees the same potential, or shows that level of kindness for - lets be honest here - someone we would want to kick in real life. Lestrade's kindness and patience, enough to deal with Sherlock, surely can be extended to involve Mycroft, as Mycroft's protectiveness extends somewhat to Sherlock's friends.

And this is not a one way street of just Lestrade being kind and accepting. The people Sherlock surrounds himself with appear dull, and have "normal" lives, but secretly either have a florid past (Mrs Hudson) (and her present with the race car and her quick thinking when the flat gets ransacked) and/or crave adventure and danger and intrigue (John) (Molly). Lestrade is the probably the same. He seems aggravated by Sherlock but still like him a whole lot and truly care for him, and you don't go into policing if not for some kind of excitement. He has a failed marriage with his wife who boringly cheated on him with a PE teacher, like how predictable and cliche, and they broke up. Lestrade is loyal, and he wants to fix things, but in the end it doesn't work out. The show doesn't really tell us why, but given what we know of his work and his habits, he probably spends way too much time on the job and in part, neglected his home life. That isn't to say the cheating his wife did can be condoned, nor was it justified, but it does tell us that Lestrade is a workaholic who craves excitement and adventure which explains his attachment to Sherlock. Who else can match that with him in a relationship? Another workaholic who surrounds himself in government intrigue and MI6 bullshit cloak and daggers who also share a soft spot for the most annoying detective consultant, of course!!! For all we know from the show, Mycroft is Lestrade's one constant relationship outside of work. Their common interest is keeping their shared loved ones safe. Beyond that, even though Mycroft feels bored by everyone because "no one is as smart as i, hohoho", Sherlock used to be the same but he found John. We see Lestrade able to hold his own against Sherlock sometimes too, and he is a detective inspector, so as much as Sherlock likes to call him dumb we know that Lestrade's actually pretty smart. If he can hold up his own against Sherlock, he can hold up his own against Mycroft. Mycroft needs someone with the patience to go through all his bullshit, and Lestrade needs someone smart and interesting and protective, because as a protector himself sometimes you forget you need someone to protect you in turn. And that is basically their whole thing - two fierce guardians, trying to protect the world, finding they also need protection, and finding it in each other (end of season 4). Also there's this scene where Lestrade is sitting by his desk with his feet propped up while he eats a donut and says "not my division" which looks exactly like this scene where Mycroft is sitting by his desk with his feet propped up looking smug, or as the mystrade shippers like to call it, "boyfriends picking up each other's behaviours". Essentially, the johnlock relationship sort of parallels the mystrade relationship in that we have a smartass, spiky, secretly vulnerable one paired with a badass, patient, relatively more sunny one. But more mature. And also preferable. The two of them share some kind of relationship that has reached the point of nonverbal understanding, as we can see in their quiet glances towards each other during the few times we see them on screen together, that requires a level of trust and time.

2) B: compatibility in external circumstances - this is a short one, it's mostly that they're both workaholics who needs someone to understand their unpredictable work schedules, and also how minimal their social life can get being a) married to work and b) work can be classified and you can't tell anyone about your case files / government coverups. No one could understand the need for secrecy and getting up in the middle of the night for a case/subterfuge than Mycroft and Lestrade, as their career roles work in tangent with each other. And they share (1) chaotic child between the two of them, so they just. get it when one receives a call telling them to fish this loud annoying bitey man child out of the Thames. Their jobs get in the way of establishing close relationships, so who better to relate to than another who live the same kind of life and can understand?

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ben10daily · 3 years

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happy day 2 of gwevin week! this fic is for the prompt of the day: warrant. shout out to @brooken-gwevin-weeks for organising this event!

title: could be a nail in my coffin words: 1,091 summary: two superpowered hot-heads walk into a bar. stop me if you’ve heard this one. ben10k-verse.

“You know, you’re really getting lazy about this whole ‘convict on the run’ lifestyle.”

Kevin’s head turned up from the bar, chin still leaning on his closed fist as he lowered the half-empty glass of Vulcan whiskey from his lips. With a growing smile, toothy and shark-like, he tipped it at her in greeting.

“Gwendolyn. Been a while.”

“Two weeks,” she said dryly, slamming her Plumber’s badge down on the bar next to his elbow. “I have better things to do than chase you across the galaxy, Kevin.”

“But the chase is the best part.” His pupils glowed unnaturally as he held her gaze, the energy of eleven thousand ill-fated aliens prickling just under his skin. Kevin soothed it, pushing down just far enough to keep his human form in place. It wouldn’t do to cause a scene in public. Not yet, anyway.

He hadn’t finished his drink.

Gwendolyn looked away first, scouting the room quickly with her eyes, and no doubt considering how to empty the place before she had to mana-blast his ass through a brick wall again. His shoulder still wasn’t quite right from the last time, but that was all part of the fun.

Truth was, Kevin had all kinds of hidey-holes to crawl into, places he could disappear from Plumber eyes if he wanted to, and from the Big Brother sight of old Benjy. He’d done it before, just like he’d broken out of the Null Void more times than he could count. It was getting laughably easy, really.

But he couldn’t resist goading her like this, knowing Gwendolyn would take it upon herself to come out personally just to make a point. Or maybe she knew full well he’d mangle any other life form that came into his line of fire these days. Kevin liked to think she just missed having him around.

“You could make this easy, for once,” Gwendolyn offered, leaning over him to avoid prying eyes. Her hood was pushed back, the scarf that usually concealed her face yanked down to her neck, so he could take in the uneasy frown he’d become accustomed to in recent years.

She smelled the same, Kevin noted, a sweet, floral scent he could pick up with those helpful vulpimancer senses. Likewise, he could hear the way her heartbeat wasn’t quite steady around him. Time didn’t change everything.

He tilted his head, humming thoughtfully. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

“I’m serious,” she said, and he caught her fingers twitch against the badge.

With a swig, Kevin emptied the remains of his drink and dropped the glass heavily onto the bar. Gwendolyn’s eyes narrowed, so close to his own, and he could almost kiss her as his arm morphed into a diamond blade that shot out for her stomach.

The sharpened point cracked hard against a flat orb of pink mana, veering off at an angle, and Gwendolyn’s palm caught him under his scarred chin, a blow so fierce it flipped him backwards off his stool.

To a normal human, that uppercut might have been dangerous enough to cut the wire of his consciousness, but Kevin was, above all, a freak of nature. He knew that much, and he rode the momentum of her strike into a turn that let him swipe at her with a roundhouse kick to the head.

His foot, now splintered and red with blazing heat, smashed against her forcefield yet again, this time hard enough to throw her sideways into the bar. He rotated on his hands, pushing off and landing on all fours a few feet away.

Gwendolyn looked flustered as she righted herself, rose-coloured light gathering around her clenched fists.

“Don’t you get bored of this?” she snapped at him. Kevin stood to meet her, ignoring the petty criminals fleeing from their tables at the sight of them facing off. “The same fight every time, just to get caught or run away with your tail between your legs?”

“I’m not scared of him, Gwendolyn,” he bit out. Little Ben Tennyson with his alien watch, no powers but the ones given to him by his betters. No cost, no consequences, just a statue of his smug face in every city, on every planet.

“Aren’t you?” Gwendolyn’s mana whipped out like a poisonous viper, and Kevin ducked in time to miss a swipe that separated more than a few strands of his hair. “Then what about me? Because I’m running out of patience with this cat and mouse game.”

Her eyes flickered, pupils disappearing into an unearthly glow as she lurched at him, flinging bolts of mana, one after the other, always aimed directly at his head.

Kevin dodged one, and then the next, and smacked the third aside with a bulging red arm that extended lightning-fast from his side, ripping against the open seams in his armoured shirt. Her energy singed the fingers black, but he couldn’t feel them anyway. Too much DNA had amalgamated in his body for him to feel much of anything these days.

Thick rope-like tentacles unravelled from his back, a gift from those nasty little guardians he’d grown so familiar with in the Null Void. He found them grotesque, and once upon a time he might have been ashamed to reveal them in Gwendolyn’s presence, but damn if they weren’t effective.

Like vines, they lashed around the uncovered pipework hanging from the ceiling, stretched taut then released, propelling him well out of her firing range and into the air. He landed by the door and she spun on her heel, another bolt already seeking him out.

Kevin deflected it with a petrosapien hand, grinning, and caught her follow-up shot across the side of his face. An angry flare of mana from her eyes burned through his cheek and consumed the helix of his right ear, leaving charred skin in its wake and a feeling closer to agony than he’d known in a long time. His head whipped back and he gritted his teeth, barking out a sonic howl that shattered the bow of energy she’d been casting to leash him.

Gwendolyn leaped away, a reactive forcefield swallowing the rest of his blast as he backed up towards the street. Helpfully, she’d blazed a gaping hole straight through the entrance and Kevin planned to make use of it.

“You?” He smiled at her with a droplet of blood beading at the corner of his upper lip, where she’d clipped him, warm and slick as it trickled into his mouth.

“Gwen, you scare the hell out of me.”

#ben 10 #gwevin week #*classic #*fic #*

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hideyseek · 3 months

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oh godd im gonna explode .. shen wei explaining why he wears this mask and saying its bc he's scared when he fights but when he wears the mask it hides his expressons and nobody can see him being scared ... present day shen wei doing that figuratively in how he presents himself ... no more mask but via distancing himself from people still preventing them from seeing how he feels

#this is not super coherent but oh my god #there is also something here about how intensely / straightforwardly zyl is flirting with shen wei now that he knows this is the past #but i havent quite wrapped my head around it #something too about how rn sw and zyl's experiences are flipped from how they were at the start of canon #zyl knows so much of sw and sw knows nothing of him #JUST LIKE SW KNEW ZYL AND ZYL KNEW NOTHING OF SW AT THE START AAAAAA #hidey watches guardian #guardian

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aki-natsuko · 4 years

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Little Match Boy II: Alternative Ending

AO3 (Chapter 1 features character death - this one doesn’t)

Tags:

***** Gray had taken the scolding for fighting Lyon with good grace. Aware that they had both been driving their guardian to distraction with their constant fighting lately and mollified by the fact that Lyon had also been reamed out once Gray had explained what had happened. Something that he knew that he was going to pay for later. However, he found himself unable to forget about what had happened even as he got ready for bed, or rather he couldn’t forget about the small boy with cherry blossom hair. He had seen the boy – Natsu -before out on the street selling matches. Bt he had never approached him as there had always been something melancholy about the smaller boy that had scared him and now he wished that he had spoken to him sooner, unable to forget the beautiful smile that had met his actions.

“Ur…I’m worried about Natsu,” he admitted softly when she came to tuck him into bed, and she paused, looking down at him in surprise. Compared to Lyon, Gray was usually more introverted, and if she was honest, she had been surprised that he had gone out of his way to defend another child, especially one that he didn’t know. “It’s so cold out there, and he didn’t have shoes or a coat.” He glanced towards his window, the curtains still open so that he could watch the snow falling outside. It was beautiful, but he knew better than anyone just how deadly it could be as his parents had died while holidaying in the mountains, and he had almost joined them before Ur had found him and rescued him. “I…I want to go and find him.” You found me, I want to do the same for him…

“It’s too late to go out now, especially in this weather,” Ur pointed out softly, stroking a hand through his hair as she guessed where his thoughts had gone as she caught the emotions swimming in his dark eyes as he stared at the window.

“But…”

“If you still feel this strongly in the morning then we can go and look for your friend,” she offered, cutting gently across his protest and Gray hesitated, slightly surprised that she had agreed so easily. Although she had a reputation for helping the poorer kids in the area despite the protest of their neighbours. He stared at her for a moment with narrowed eyes, gaze flicking between her and the window as Natsu’s smile flashed through his mind, and his voice shook as he finally forced it to work.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Ur replied, and Gray felt himself relaxing at the easy agreement. Natsu…He knew without a doubt that he would still feel like this in the morning, and he nodded his agreement, and she smiled as she saw the determined set to his chin, aware that it would take wild horses to tear him away from this decision now. Stroking his hair once more, she leant in and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead, smirking at his grumbled protest. “Now go to sleep sweetheart, and no more fighting with Lyon.”

“’ Kay…” Gray mumbled sleepily, aware that she was laughing at his protest and he rolled onto his side, his eyes growing heavy as he listened to her leaving the room and heading next door to speak to Lyon, and his gaze turned once more to the window.

Natsu, please wait for me…

Despite Ur’s reassurances and his best efforts, Gray couldn’t fall asleep. His bed was warm and comfortable, and he was tired, but every time that he closed his eyes, all he could see was Natsu rushing away from him into the cold and snow.

He was out there now.

Ur had promised that they could go and look for Natsu in the morning, but what if that was too late? Gray could remember the cold slipping through his body, stealing away every bit of warmth, until he was numb and drifting, and then threatening to steal away his breath and more. Ur had saved him, but it had been close, to the point where the doctors had warned her that he might not survive, and he had been dressed for the weather, his parents insisting that he wrap up before they went out that fateful morning. Natsu didn’t have that, didn’t have that tiny kernel of hope that Gray had clung to during those long cold hours, that someone would be looking for them, that someone would come.

He couldn’t wait.

Glad, that Ur had finally given them separate rooms after he and Lyon had kept bickering, he slipped out from under the covers, shivering as even with the fire banked for the night the chill from outside had crept into the air. It made him move faster, because if it was this cold inside, then what was it like outside now? As quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the rest of the household for fear that they would stop him, or fetch someone to stop him in Lyon’s case, he dressed in the warmest clothes he could find. Before also finding a spare coat and a pair of shoes which he wrapped in a pillowcase stolen off his bed, knotting the top of it, before creeping to the door.

Cracking it open, he listened for a moment or two, wrinkling his nose as he heard Lyon snoring loudly from next door. Yet another reason for their bickering when they had shared a room, as the older boy was adamant that he didn’t snore despite Gray arguing that everyone knew he did. There was still a light shining from under Ur’s door, and for a moment he hesitated, if he went to her with her fears, perhaps she would go with him or send an adult to look for Natsu, and it was tempting. It was dark and cold outside, and Ur had always warned them about the dangers of being out on the streets at night. But, she had already said that it was too late and that they would go in the morning, and Gray didn’t want to risk getting caught and having that answer again, fingers tightening on the knotted pillowcase. I’m sorry, he thought, hating the idea that he might be disappointing his guardian, but unable to shake the image of Natsu from his mind.

Gathering his courage, he crept forward, skirting the creaky floorboard that he and Lyon had discovered and memorised after getting caught too many times sneaking down to the kitchens. Holding his breath as he passed Ur’s door, but there was no sound from within, so maybe she had fallen asleep reading again, which happened quite a lot. Still, he didn’t relax until he had made it all the way past her room, down the stairs, hopping over a couple that had started to creak recently, and successfully reaching the entrance hall. Pausing as he eyed the door, which was his next challenge, as it was a huge heavy thing that was locked and bolted for the night, the keys hanging from a hook just inside. There was no way to get them down quietly, he heard the housekeeper take them down every morning so he knew that for a fact, and if Ur was awake then she would come running.

However, there was another way and hiking the pillowcase over his shoulder he headed for the kitchens, knowing from their various nocturnal visits that Ms Virgo had a habit of forgetting to bolt the kitchen door, leaving the key in the lock. Unfortunately, she also tended to be up late, and he was on tenterhooks as he darted down the corridor to the kitchen, before reaching the door, and peering through the glass panel. There was no sign of her, and hoping that she was in bed and not just fetching something from the pantry he edged the door open and slipped inside. It was warm in here, the kitchen fire still stoked high and casting a warm glow over the room, and he paused for a moment as he saw the fresh bread buns laid out ready for the morning. Glancing around before grabbing a couple and stuffing them in his pocket, wondering if Natsu had eaten anything but the sweet he’d been able to give him and somehow doubting it. This wasn’t much, but it would be a start until Gray could bring him back here, and…

…and what?

He paused, as he realised that even with Ur’s reassurances he hadn’t really considered what the next step would be once they found Natsu. Did he have a family? Not much of a one if they were letting the other boy run around in the cold dressed like that. Besides, there had been loneliness with the melancholy that made him think that Natsu had been alone in one way or another for some time. He had been surprised that Gray had defended him, that he had tried to help, and he scowled. He might not know what came next, or what Ur would do.

Could they let him stay here?

Would they need to talk to the authorities?

Gray didn’t know anything about those kind of things, but he knew that here and facing questions, was better than out there with nowhere to go and gathering his resolve, he marched to the door. Sure enough, the heavy bolts hadn’t been drawn across for the night, and while the door was locked the key was still there, and it opened easily enough, creaking slightly as he edged it open just enough to sneak through. Nothing stirred at the sound much to his relief, and he locked the door behind him, slipping the key into his other pocket, so they had a way back inside without leaving the house unprotected.

It was freezing outside, and even in his thick jumper and coat, he felt it, shivering as his breath misted in the air in front of him. Lifting his head, he found that he could see all the stars in the sky. It was a beautiful night, and yet it felt to him as though there was something in that sky, something watchful and menacing, and it fed into his worry for Natsu, and he found himself breaking into a run, the pillowcase bouncing against his back.

Natsu, I’m coming.

****

Natsu’s entire body was growing numb, even his shivering was slowing, and he knew that was a bad sign, but what could he do? No one was going to let him in, and even if he headed for home now, he knew that it wasn’t going to be enough. He shifted, trying to curl up even tighter and squeeze a modicum of extra heat from his hidey-hole only to pause as the movement reminded him about the matches he was clinging to. A Match…He knew that he shouldn’t waste them. They were the only source of income he had after all, but he was so cold, and surely lighting one wouldn’t be too bad, and it might give him a little comfort if not warmth. But did he dare do it? The ache from his injuries had dulled with the cold, and after a moment he cautiously grasped one and stared at it intently. Just one…Trembling he reached out and drew it against the wall, the sound of it igniting deafening in the silent street and his eyes widened with delight as it blazed to life.

It was bright against the darkness, burning happily and the warmth. It was a tiny flame, but at that moment, it felt like the sun, and he curled his hands around it, desperate for that tiny bit of heat. It was beautiful, and Natsu found his mind wandering until it felt almost as though he was sat in front of an open fireplace, much like the one he and Igneel had once had. They had spent many an evening there curled together, making up silly stories, and it felt to Natsu as though he was really back there, the warmth seeping into his chilly limbs and he stretched his feet out to warm them too. Only to pause as the small flame disappeared a moment later, the fireplace and memory vanishing with it and leaving him with nothing but the burnt remains of the match in his hand and he let it fall.

It was a dream…

He knew that and yet he couldn’t resist the temptation of feeling that warmth again, and this time there was no hesitation as he reached for another match, rubbing it against the wall with a hint of desperation. It flared easily to life in his hand, and where the flame hit the wall in front of him, it seemed to turn transparent like a window or a veil, and through it, he could see the room beyond it. It was the same as those he had peered at through the windows in previous years, a brightly lit dining room, with a beautifully decorated table and a feast spread out across the surface, and Natsu felt himself drooling at the sight of the fire chicken and roast vegetables, the chocolate cake. Treats he had dreamed of a hundred times, and there sat at the end of the table was his father. Not the monster waiting at home, but Igneel, who was watching him with warm eyes, and Natsu reached out towards him, his fingers coming within an inch of Igneel’s when the match went out, and all he touched was the cold stone of the wall.

Come back…

Natsu lit another match, and this time when the light sprang into life, he found himself sitting beneath a magnificent Christmas tree. It was nearly as large as the one that dominated the centre of Magnolia at this time of year, and yet it seemed a thousand times more beautiful than that one. This tree was just for him, rich green branches, decorated with hundreds of candles that warmed his face as he stared up at them, glittering against gaudy baubles like the ones he had seen in all the shops for the last few weeks. It’s beautiful. It was nothing like the simple one he and Igneel had put up each year, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch the decorations. Just one touch, but again the match died just before he could even brush them, and it seemed to him as though the lights from the tree rose higher and higher with the smoke, and for a moment he imagined that they were like the stars in the sky above him and as he watched one fell down and formed a trail of fire.

“Someone died…” He whispered to himself. Remembering one of Igneel’s favourite stories about the Star Princess who tended the stars and who would send one falling to earth when someone died, a marker for every soul soaring into the sky to follow and a memorial for those who wouldn’t have any left behind to remember them. Just like me…

He lit another match against the wall, and this time when the light sprang to life between his trembling hands, he could see Igneel standing over him. Bright and radiant in the light of the flame, a warm smile on his face and love shining in the warm brown eyes that met his gaze. Natsu sniffled and let out a little hiccupping sob, reaching for his father only for the image to flicker and begin to fade as the match spluttered. Desperately he grabbed the remaining matches and lit them all as one, and Igneel was there once more, brighter and stronger than ever and Natsu felt a tremulous smile spread across his face. Igneel…

“Father…Igneel,” he whispered shakily, reaching out with a trembling hand. “Please, take me with you. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to be in the warmth and light with you, I want to be with you.” It was a wish he had made a hundred times or more since Igneel had died, but this time, his father smiled gently before reaching out and scooping him into his arms. His father’s arms were warm and strong. They were home, and Natsu let his eyes drift shut as the feeling washed over him, and a voice whispered his name…

“Natsu…”

****

Gray had found his way back to where he had last seen Natsu, or at least he hoped that he had, everything looked different at night, and with the snow piling up, everything had taken on a different shape and form as it loomed out of the darkness. Part of him wanted to turn and run home and get Ur to help him, especially as he’d already stumbled into a group of drunks who’d laughed and jeered as he’d bolted from them, skin prickling uneasily. But, it was too late to turn back, and as the snow continued to fall, his worry for Natsu grew, and he hugged the pillowcase against his chest, a talisman against the cold, a hope for the other boy. “NATSU!” He called, hoping against hope that maybe he had stayed nearby and found somewhere to shelter, his voice strangely muffled by the snow. “NATSU?! It’s Gray!” He tried again, but if Natsu was nearby, he wasn’t replying. Or maybe he was somewhere completely different? Or someone else had given him shelter? Gray didn’t know, but he wasn’t going anywhere without at least searching for him.

Stamping his feet to try and warm them a little, as the snow had started to slip down the edges, leaving his socks and feet damp, the cold starting to bite, he looked around. There were so many ways that Natsu could have gone, and if he chose the wrong one… No, he was going to find the other boy one way or another, even if it took all night and Ur discovered that he was gone before he got home. He winced at the thought of the wrath that would be waiting or him when he got back if that happened but stubbornly stepped forward, picking a direction at random and hurrying forward. He didn’t dare keep calling out, not wanting to risk waking the whole town and getting himself and Natsu into trouble, so he had to rely on his eyes and ears, which were happened by the flurrying snow.

Natsu…

The first three streets he tried were abandoned apart from an old man who had made a nest of old sacks and crates in the doorway of an empty shop. Snoring loudly as he curled around a bottle underneath a ragged looking blanket and Gray skirted him warily, but his presence went unnoticed. He had turned back to the place where he had met Natsu, and set off along the next street in his search pattern, stubbornly trying to ignore the exhaustion and cold that were settling over him, and the sinking fear that maybe he wasn’t going to be able to find Natsu, or that maybe it was too late.

This street led further out of the centre, into a part of town that Gray had only visited a couple of times with Ur. Their street was nice, but this one with it’s towering townhouses and new buildings was something else. He almost turned back there and then, unable to imagine Natsu trying to find comfort here of all places, or the other boy finding any kind of welcome here. Even he, in his neat clothes and with Ur at his side had drawn more than one sidelong look when they’d attended a party as guests of one of her friends, and Natsu…

He was turning away when there was a flash of light up ahead. It was so small and fleeting, abruptly lost against the snow and dark that for a moment he thought that he must’ve imagined it. But then there was another flare of light, this one lasted only seconds too, and then there was a pause before a third flare lit up, and it took him a moment to place what they were before he remembered what Natsu had so desperately been trying to sell that day.

Matches.

“NATSU!” Forgetting all about staying quiet, he rushed forward, almost stumbling over increasingly numb feet but managing not to fall as he strained for a reply. There was nothing, and there was a long pause as he slipped and slid over the snow-covered pavement, until finally there was a burst of light, as though several candles had been lit at once. Or a bunch of matches, his mind corrected, and he realised it was coming from the corner between two of the larger houses, one of the few places on this street that offered any semblance of shelter. The only hope for a small boy with no coat or shoes and nowhere to go.

Natsu…

He could make out the other boy now, hunched over in that space as though he had been trying to make himself as small as possible, illuminated by the bundle of matches he was clinging to. “NATSU!” Natsu gave no sign that he had heard him, and now that Gray was closer, he could see his face, pale and tinged with blue in the light of the already dying flames, eyes glazed and distant, and a smile that seemed so out of place on his lips as he stared into the flames as though seeing something else. Natsu was speaking he realised, unable to make out the words they were so faint, lost to the drifting snow and sound of Gray’s boots crunching against the snow, and he gritted his teeth and sped up. Crying out as he saw Natsu swaying, eyes drifting shut as the matches flickered out one by one. “NO! Natsu!”

Gray reached him just as the other boy toppled forward, the spent matches falling from limp hands to land against the ones already discarded on the ground, black lines against the snow. He paid them no mind, because Natsu was limp and unmoving in his hands, and oh so cold, as though Gray was hugging a lump of ice to himself and he shivered in sympathy even as he moved so that he could lean Natsu against the wall, crouching in front of him. “Natsu? Natsu can you hear me?” He asked urgently, patting the other boy’s cheeks, terrified by the paleness and the blue touching his lips and skin. Gray remembered looking like that, and it had been too close, and there was a leaden weight in his stomach as he frantically removed one of his gloves, hissing at the bite of the cold, before placing trembling fingers in front of Natsu’s mouth and holding his breath. It felt like a lifetime before he felt it, the faintest brush of air against his skin, but it gave him hope, especially as he realised he could see the ragged rise and fall of Natsu’s chest against his too thin clothes.

He was still alive… for now.

Yanking his glove back on, knowing that he wouldn’t do either of them any good if he froze too, he grabbed the pillowcase, fighting with the knot and cursing. Using words that would have Ur descending on him with a bar of soap if she could hear him until it finally yielded to his desperation. Tipping out the contents, he grabbed the coat. “I’m going to put this on you, okay?” He asked, hoping for but not expecting a response, but still disappointed when Natsu remained unmoving, head lolling to the side. The other boy deadweight as Gray manhandled him into the coat, scowling as he realised how much it swamped Natsu, but it was better than nothing, and as soon as it was fastened, he turned his attention to getting the boots on. If the rest of Natsu was frozen, Gray wasn’t sure he had words for Natsu’s feet, shivering as he handled them, eyeing the red and blue mottling with worried eyes, knowing that it was a bad sign before forcing them into the boots. They were too big too, and he had to loop the laces around several times to make sure they wouldn’t fall off, but through it all Natsu was unmoving.

“Natsu?” He tried again, shaking the other boy by the shoulders before tapping his face once more, and Natsu’s lashes flickered for a second, and he whined under his breath before stilling, and nothing Gray did could elicit another response from him. Which meant that it was going to be up to Gray to get them out of here, because even with the coat and boots, Natsu couldn’t stay out here. “Natsu?” He tried one last time, but when there was no reply, he got to his feet and looked around. There was no one in sight, and why would there be? It was late at night and freezing, and everyone that had somewhere else to be would be inside right now, and there was no way he was leaving Natsu alone while he fetched help, sensing that if he did Natsu would be gone before he got back.

Which left one option, and he looked back at Natsu before moving back to the other boy’s side and crouching down beside him. He had done this often enough with Lyon, but they had both been awake and helping or hindering in Lyon’s case when he wanted to be difficult. Lyon had nothing on Natsu, as Gray struggled to pull him onto his back so that he could carry him, and more than once they both nearly ended up face down in the snow, and it was stubbornness more than anything that had Gray persevering until the other boy was slumped against his back, arms limp at his side. Praying that he wouldn’t drop him, Gray gripped Natsu’s legs and carefully got to his feet, leaning forward a little to stop Natsu toppling backwards. It took him a couple of attempts to secure his hold and steady himself, and Natsu was so damn cold against his back, but he wasn’t heavy, and Gray was abruptly reminded of the bread he had taken, useless in his pocket right now, and he squeezed Natsu’s legs.

“You’re going to be safe now,” he promised the unconscious boy, wishing that he had done something earlier when he’d first seen him, rather than letting him run away. But, he was here now, and even as he staggered a little, worried about dropping the other boy, he was determined to get him home where it was safe and warm, and where Ur would know what to do. “Just hold on a little longer…”

What hadn’t seemed like too long a journey on the way out, felt a thousand times longer on the way back. Gray was cold and miserable, his feet now well and truly frozen as more snow melted and filled them with moisture, and he was shivering hard enough to rattle his teeth now, his warm clothes no longer enough to hold back the cold. He was exhausted too, Natsu might not have been as heavy as he should be for a boy their age – and he knew from lugging Lyon around – but he was dead weight and Gray’s shoulders and back ached, but he didn’t dare pause even for a quick breather, because Natsu hadn’t stirred. Not once, and it was only when his own teeth had started to chatter, that he had realised that the other boy wasn’t even shivering, and Gray knew enough to know that was a bad sign. So he kept going, even as he swore that he wasn’t going to go out in the snow again any time soon, daydreaming of his warm, comfy bed and the fire in the hearth.

By the time his house finally came into sight, Gray was moving on autopilot, stumbling more and more with each step and only keeping Natsu in place through sheer force of will, and he wasn’t even sure that the other boy was still with him. Unable to feel Natsu’s heartbeat, or hear his breathing, over the ragged panting of his own, and he almost burst into tears at the sight of the house.

“W-w-we’re n-nearly there N-Natsu,” He stuttered out, still hoping for a response and feeling more disheartened than ever when there wasn’t one. The front door was so close, but he didn’t know if anyone would hear him knocking and he had the key to the kitchen door, but those last few dozen feet felt worse than all the others combined, and he all but collapsed against the back door when he reached it. Gritting his teeth, he shifted so that Natsu was caught between his back and the wall, as he fumbled in his pocket for the key, nearly dropping it in the process and having to fight with numb fingers to get it into the lock and the door open. Still, eventually, there was a click, and the door swung open with a louder creak than earlier.

Gray didn’t care, he needed someone to hear them, to know that they were there. He was frozen and sore, and there were black spots at the edge of his vision, and Natsu was still and silent, and it was too much. He didn’t know how to fix this, and the first tears fell as he managed to get his legs working enough to carry them inside the kitchen, managing a couple of steps inside before he stumbled. This time he couldn’t catch himself, hitting the floor hard, and ending up tangled with Natsu who had no way of catching himself.

Luckily, or unluckily considering the side of his face now felt like it was on fire, they had collided with the sideboard as they fell. Half a dozen pots and pans toppled over, landing around them with a deafening clang that would be enough to wake the dead. He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping against the cold and pain, reaching out blindly for Natsu as he heard the sound of someone cursing and hurried footsteps, and felt more than saw the light that flooded the kitchen. There was a horrified cry, and someone was shouting for Ur…was that him? He didn’t think it was, and then there were hands on his shoulders, gently easing him over, pulling him away from Natsu, and he stirred, opening blurry eyes just enough to plead.

“H-H-Help N-Natsu…”

****

Gray was floating, or that’s what it felt like as he shifted, brushing against something soft and fluffy that his sleep-addled mind decided must be clouds. It was warm too, a heat that had wrapped its arms around him and he smiled a little, imaging that he was drifting through a summer sky, somewhere above the clouds with the sun beating down on him from above.

Summer…

Natsu!

He was jolted out of the pleasant feeling, as memory came rushing back and he bolted upright with the other boy’s name on his lips. Or at least he tried to, barely managing to lift his head from what he now realised was a pillow and not a cloud, before hands caught his shoulders and held him in place. “Let me go, Natsu….” He protested, pushing against the arms, and it took him a moment to realise that someone was talking to him, and another moment to blink. Clearing sleep-blurred eyes enough to realise that it was the housekeeper Ms Virgo who was halfway out of her chair, as though she had lunged forward to catch him.

“…okay, you’re okay…” She soothed, and he blinked at her again before looking around. He was in his room, in his bed, although it was piled high with blankets in way that it hadn’t been when he’d snuck out, and there was a fire blazing merrily in the hearth despite the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Natsu?” He asked, suddenly terrified as he realised that there was no sign of the other boy. Ms Virgo hesitated for a moment, and he stared at her, noting for the first time the shadows under her eyes, and the fact that she didn’t look as put together as usual. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach as she released him to sit back in her chair and take a deep breath.

“The Doctor and Mistress Ur are with him at the moment,” she said finally, apparently reaching a decision. “I won’t lie to you Master Gray, he’s a very sick little boy at the moment, and…” Gray shook his head, stopping her, not needing to hear the words. He already knew. Remembering his mother still and silent behind him, his father fading away between broken sobs. He knew what the cold could do.

“I want to see him.”

“Gray, you…”

“Please,” he matched her dropping the formality, with a pleading look. Not the one he used to get candied apples and toffee from her, but one of desperation, and she sighed before glancing at the clock.

“You will have to wait for the Doctor to finish with him, and the Mistress will want him to look at you first, and then we will see,” Ms Virgo said, lifting a hand as he immediately opened his mouth to argue that he felt fine, albeit a little tired. “That much isn’t up for negotiation.” There was steel there, and he knew that she wouldn’t be swayed on that point, and he doubted Ur would either, even though he didn’t think there was any need for the Doctor to see him too. Still, he nodded reluctantly and sank back against the pillows, not arguing as she pulled the covers up, unable to forget how cold he had felt.

He must’ve dozed off at some point, because he startled awake when the bed dipped, opening his eyes to find Ur sat on the edge looking down at him with soft eyes. As he blinked up at her, she reached out and brushed his hair away from his face, before cupping his cheek, not saying anything as she studied him intently.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, the apology creeping out without him intending to, but there was something in her expression that had him on edge.

“I know,” she said finally, brushing her fingers against his cheek. “But you scared me, Gray, I could have lost you again.” He winced and tried to look away, but she didn’t let him. “Next time, come and wake me up. I know what I said, but Gray if you were that worried, you need to tell me.” Gray shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, especially in the early days after he’d come to live with her, and he wanted to argue that he had tried to tell her, but the words wouldn’t come, and all he could do was nod mutely. Not quite a promise, but the most he could manage at the moment and Ur seemed to realise that, looking a little disappointed as she sighed and sat back, although she didn’t remove her hands. “The Doctor says you need to take it easy for a couple of days just to be on the safe side, but you were lucky, and you seem to be bouncing back okay.”

“...Natsu?” Gray almost didn’t want to ask.

“Natsu is going to take a lot longer to get better, he’s not been well for a long time, and he needs a lot of care and food, to get him anywhere near to full health,” Ur said, voice gentle but making no effort to hide the truth. It had always been one of her rules, after he’d shouted and screamed when no one would tell him what had happened to his parents when he’d first woken up, making himself ill until she’d stepped in to tell him the truth. It had hurt – just like this did – but he preferred it to the not knowing. “But…” He hadn’t realised he’d looked down, or that she had let him this time until his head shot up at her words. “The Doctor says that with time and care, he should make a full recovery, and he woke up a little earlier, enough for us to explain what had happened and where he was, and he was asking for you.”

“He was? Can I see him?” Gray was wide awake now and already trying to push the covers away. “Ms Virgo said I could as long as the Doctor had seen me, and….” He faltered realising he had slept through more than he had realised, and he glanced at the window, startled to find that it was dark outside.

“You slept the afternoon away, but you needed it,” Ur explained, moving to help him with the covers much to his surprise. “You can see him briefly, but then I want you to eat something and then it’s back to bed with you as you need to rest too, and Natsu isn’t going anywhere.”

“Really?” Gray asked, pausing in the middle of climbing out of bed, staring at her with wide, hopeful eyes as he remembered the questions that had hounded him.

“They’re looking into his family situation, but considering the state, he is in and that he was still out on the streets that late at night, it is doubtful he has anyone suitable to return to,” Ur replied. But that wasn’t what Gray cared about, even as a flicker of righteous anger welled in his heart at the thought of Natsu being abandoned or living with someone who wouldn’t care for him. “There will be some questions and other things, but I’ve already made it plain that I would like him to stay here with us, and the Doctor is in agreement, so unless Natsu himself disagrees there shouldn’t be any reason why he can’t stay.”

Gray flung himself at her, hugging her tightly, missing the surprised look on her face as he buried his face against her as he chanted ‘thank you, thank you, thank you…” under his breath. Natsu, I told you that you were going to be safe. He had made the promise without knowing what was going to happen, and Ur had made it happen without him even asking, and he gripped her tightly, more grateful than he could ever say for this woman who worried about him, but never lied or hid the truth from him. If his eyes were a little damp when he pulled away, then she was kind enough not to say, instead steadying him as he stepped out of bed and wobbled a little, more tired than he’d realised, and he didn’t argue when she draped an arm around his shoulders and guided him to the door.

Outside, they found Lyon lurking in the hallway and frowning, at least until he spotted Gray and then his face lit up for a moment before he forced his expression into a scowl as he all but sprang at the younger boy. Ur steadied them, as Gray who had been braced for a punch even with her stood there, found himself in a tight hug, tentatively returning it as he realised that Lyon was trembling. “Lyon?”

“You’re an idiot,” Lyon grumbled, managing to sound more petulant than anything, but Gray had learned to hear what the other boy wasn’t saying when they weren’t fighting, and he knew that he had worried the other boy, and he tightened the hug for a moment.

“I’m all right….”

“You’re still an idiot,” Lyon retorted, pulling away.

“Hey…”

“Boys,” Ur chided, but she was smiling, the kind that lit up her whole face and to Gray, it felt as though the world was coming back onto an even keel even though he hadn’t realised it was out of balance. “Gray wants to see Natsu for a few minutes, but then he needs to eat, so why don’t you see if Virgo will bring some food upstairs and you can have dinner together in Gray’s room?” She suggested, and to Gray’s surprise, Lyon nodded and darted away before he could say anything. “He was worried about you.”

“I…”

“You two fight all the time,” she was guiding him forward again, leading him past Lyon’s bedroom and towards her own. “But, you’re brothers, of course, he’s going to worry.” It sounded simple when she put it like that, and Gray nodded, filing it away as something to think about little because there were moments when he had truly questioned if Lyon even wanted him here. “Now, I want to warn you that Natsu might not be awake and I don’t want you disturbing him if he’s asleep as he needs all the sleep he can get at the moment, and he’s not very well, so he probably won’t talk much.”

“I don’t care, I just want to see him…” Gray insisted, shivering as he remembered how cold and still Natsu had been against his back, and Ur pulled him into her side as she opened the door to her room and ushered him inside.

There was her bed, and beyond it was the small, single bed that she had put in when they were trying to transition him from sleeping with her to being able to sleep on his own, and then into his own room. It had been put into storage months ago after his visits had dropped to once in a blue moon when the nightmares were particularly bad, but now it was back, and Gray’s breath caught as he spied the shock of pink hair nestled against the pillow. Natsu was curled on his side, facing away from them and he looked smaller than Gray remembered, as though he was attempting to disappear right in front of their eyes, and shrugging off Ur’s supporting arm he hurried across to the other boy. Drawing closer he realised that Natsu was asleep, able to hear his breathing, a little too loud – not quite a snore, but rasping – and he flicked a glance back at Ur remembering what she had said about Natsu being ill, before slowing and practically creeping the last of the distance between them as he circled the bed so he could see the other boy’s face.

Natsu was still pale, but the terrifying blueness was gone, although it had been replaced by an unhealthy flush across both cheeks, and as Gray watched, he shifted uneasily, eyes dancing under closed lids. Someone had bathed him, and the pink hair was brighter than Gray remembered, standing up in all directions, and his fingers twitched, longing to reach out and touch. To reassure himself that the other boy was warm and alive, and here, but he remembered Ur’s warning, and he didn’t want to disturb the other boy. It didn’t stop him from inching closer, eyes locked on the sight of Natsu breathing, his chest rising and falling under the blanket pulled right up under his chin.

Evidence that he was alive.

Proof that Gray hadn’t been too late.

He closed his eyes, feeling a knot of something uncurling in his chest and he sniffled as he just breathed. He’s going to be okay. He could feel Ur watching him and knew that she would be chasing him back to bed soon and if he was honest, he wanted to sleep again, more exhausted than anything with the proof that Natsu was alive and safe. He opened his eyes intending to tell her that, but instead, the words died on the tip of his tongue, because Ur wasn’t the only one watching him.

Natsu was awake.

The other boy was staring at him, gaze somewhat unfocused, but there was a spark of recognition in his eyes that drew Gray in, and he inched closer, holding his breath as Natsu’s gaze flickered, darting around before focusing on him. There was a wariness there that Gray recognised, not the same as his, but similar enough that he realised that Ur hadn’t only been talking about Natsu’s health when she had said that it would take time. He smiled at the other boy, moving so that his hands were visible and he looked as unthreatening as possible, remembering how he had punched Lyon once in the early days because the other boy had all but rushed him, and not wanting to share that experience.

“…Gray…?” Natsu whispered finally, voice hoarse and more than a little uncertain.

“Yes,” Gray beamed, relieved to be recognised and he glanced briefly at Ur who nodded before he approached and sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. “Natsu… how are you feeling?” He asked. It wasn’t really what he wanted to say, but he didn’t really know what he wanted to say or if he had the right words, Lyon was always saying that he could put his foot in it just by opening his mouth, and Natsu was still wary.

“Tired…” Natsu whispered around a yawn, before frowning. “…warm?” The way it was a question, as though he didn’t quite believe it hurt, and Gray swallowed. You won’t be cold again, he vowed in the privacy of his thoughts, and he wanted to say it aloud, but Natsu was looking a little overwhelmed, and a little more alert as he looked around, as though taking in the room and the bed that he was on for the first time. Maybe he was, as Ur said he had only been awake for a little while earlier. “…Where am I?”

“You’re at my house.”

“Why?” The wariness was there in full force now, along with a hint of fear and Gray felt hurt for a moment, but he squashed it, remembering what Ur had said. Natsu didn’t have this, or rather he hadn’t, and it would take time, but Gray wanted him to at least know that he was welcome here. That he had a place to call home if he wanted to, just like Ur had done with him those years ago, he realised with a pang, fighting the urge to look at her, aware of her watching over them, ready to step in if needed.

“I came to find you, I was worried…” He admitted in a small voice.

“Why?”

“Why?” Gray floundered.

“No one cares,” Natsu said it with such certainty that Gray froze for a moment, mouth open, hurting for the other boy. “Not anymore…” Gray filed that away, and he knew that Ur had done the same. Had Natsu lost his family too? Was that why he had been alone? He wanted to ask, but not now, because for all his questions, Natsu was visibly wilting, eyes already at half-mast, so instead Gray leaned forward to catch his wandering gaze.

“I care,” he said firmly, with all the steel that Ms Virgo had, and the gentleness Ur showed him. “I care, and Ur cares…and you’re safe here with us, with me. I promise.” He put every ounce of feeling he had into that last word, and Natsu stared at him for several long minutes, and Gray had the feeling that he was being judged and he found himself unable to move, barely even breathing. There was a fire in Natsu’s eyes, a weight that belied the flush of fever and slight lack of focus in that gaze, and Gray was suddenly terrified of being found wanting, and he nearly leapt out of his skin when a hand grasped him. Natsu’s skin was warm – unnaturally so from the fever- but it was such a far cry from the cold weight on his back that Gray welcomed it, immediately turning his hand so that they were palm to palm, blinking as something crinkled between them.

“I want to believe you…” Natsu whispered, releasing his hand and there was such longing there that Gray wanted to grab hold of him and shake him until he did believe it. But he knew that wouldn’t help and instead he looked at his hand, at the sweet wrapper glistening in his palm. The wrapper of the sweet that he had given Natsu he realised, and he swallowed thickly as he curled his fingers gently around it and lifted his head to meet Natsu’s gaze.

“That’s okay,” he murmured, echoing the words that Ur had said to him a long time ago. “You don’t need to believe it right away, but I will prove it to you Natsu. That you’re safe here, that I care and that you belong here.”

I promise.

#ftslashseptember #Gratsu #Fairy Tail #Gray Fullbuster #Natsu Dragneel #fanfic #Aki Writes #I was supposed to be drabbling for this event #Prompt: Fairytales

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shakespeareanqueer · 4 years

Text

Stones (Chapter 5 - Power)

Series summary: You, a SHIELD AGENT in 2012, find your world turned upside-down when you run into a version of Steve from 2023 and learn about the future. You help Steve go through time and return the infinity stones, but how will your journey end? Can you ever really go back to your old life? Can he?

Chapter summary: You return the Power Stone to Morag, and Steve’s a little impatient to finish the job.

Word count: 2,364 words 💎Contents: Cursing, Steve is injured so blood and burn injuries, and stitches

A/N: I couldn’t find a great gif of the Power Stone so sorry about the weird Guardians of the Galaxy gif. Anywho, enjoy the chapter!

I’ll reblog with links to my masterlist, tagging my taglist (which is open for this series!) and citing the header gif.

As soon as you materialize on the strange planet, Steve pulls you down behind a rock. A strange man with dusty blond hair comes sliding along right in front of your hidey-boulder a few moments later, humming along to whatever is playing through his old-fashioned headphones and dancing like no one is watching (which, to be fair, he doesn’t think anyone is.)

“Who’s that?” you whisper to Steve.

“Peter Quill,” he responds. “‘Star-Lord.’” He puts the nickname in air quotations. “He’s part of a group of space heroes who were after Thanos even before we knew he existed.”

You nod slowly. You wince as Quill picks up a space rat, uses it as a microphone for his lip-syncing while it lets out an ear-piercing squeal, then tosses it aside, still dancing around the deserted planet surface.

“He doesn’t seem… the brightest,” you mutter.

Steve hangs his head. “Yeah, Tony said he screwed up royally and let Thanos get away pre-snap, so, I’m not his biggest fan.”

You have to keep from whooping aloud when you watch a familiar man in a large metal suit come up behind Quill and knock him over the head. “Colonel Rhodes?” you whisper. Steve nods, and you see he is attempting to restrain a smile from spreading across his own face.

You see a blue android woman sidle up beside Rhodes, and together they stride up to the temple-like structure which is one of the only signs of civilization remaining on this planet. You just look at Steve quizzically.

“Nebula,” he responds to your unasked question. “Thanos’ daughter, but on our side by the time the big fight came around.”

You nod again and watch as despite Rhodes’ protestations, she steps right into the hovel. You can’t see inside, so you just wait, crouching.

After a several minutes, you hear Nebula emit a long, horrible tortured scream. You have to fight your instincts to run towards the source to assist. It also seems to pain Steve to have to resist helping, as his face is contorted with concern and effort, so you place a comforting hand on his knee. He envelopes it with his own and gives you a grateful look. You don’t break eye contact until Nebula comes racing out of the hut towards the spaceship parked a few dozen feet away, and you hear as she desperately attempts to place a call to the rest of the team.

After a glance at Steve and a confirming nod from him, you dash into the temple to do your duty while Nebula is distracted with her crisis. It quickly becomes clear that this would not be as easy as originally thought. Steve had assumed that Nebula and/or Rhodey had disabled any type of security concerning the orb which contained the Power Stone, but it seems that somehow Nebula was able to extract the orb with the forcefield still in place.

You think back to the distressed Nebula you saw sprinting out of the temple, and realize that one of her arms, one that had been predominantly if not entirely constructed out of metal parts, had been seared pretty much off.

“I guess she just-“ You mime sticking your hand out in a grabby motion in the general direction of the ominously flickering beams of protective electricity, and Steve shrugs in agreement.

You begin looking around for a disabling switch or power grid, anything to shut off the lasers. While your back is turned, you hear a violent hissing noise and begin to smell the stench of burning flesh.

You whip around and scream, “WHAT THE FUCK, STEVE!”

He is sticking his very much human and not at all metal arm right into the force field, in such an agonizingly slow manner as to make your stomach churn. His face is set in grim determination, but also extreme, gut-wrenching pain. You feel certain he is going to break his jaw with how tightly it is clenched.

By the time he has placed the orb in its cradle and extracted his arm again, you have shaken off the fear and whatever else had kept you glued to your spot when you first witnessed his actiona and are once again able to will yourself to move.

He crumples to the ground clutching his arm. The sleeve of his suit has been entirely scorched off, and he is bleeding. You can see tears of pain bubbling behind his eyes, but he is holding them back.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, cry if you need to.” You are trying to be harsh and biting, but an immense tenderness of feeling permeates your words, evident through your soft volume and the fact that your voice breaks on the word ‘cry.’

He takes you up on that and his chest heaves as he lets his arm drop to his side, limp and useless, and tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

You’ve seen Steve a lot of different ways over the course of your journey. You’ve seen him fully asleep, and deliriously half-asleep. You’ve seen him relieved and euphoric at an unexpected reunion with a friend he thought dead. You’ve seen him teasing and sarcastic and borderline flirtatious. You’ve seen him determined and strong, to the point of stubbornness. But you have yet to see him this completely vulnerable, so entirely devastated and in such remarkable pain. It makes it hard for you to breathe, and rips something away from your very soul.

Through a veil of tears starting to obscuring your own field of vision, you type coordinates into your device and then to Steve’s (luckily he wrecked the opposite sleeve), your hand shaking incessantly as you do so.

Where you emerge is an eerie, dark hospital. You quickly set about turning on lights and scrambling to grab equipment. Steve looks around warily, still panting with pain and now clutching his arm again.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “No one’s around. This is a terrorist facility we raided, but the raid was a few days ago. It took about a week to even get a clean-up crew here because of fuckin’ bureaucracy. But I remembered noting how well-stocked the infirmary was.” You set out a bunch of equipment onto the patient bench and pat it, prompting Steve to hop up onto it with a wince.

“So this is 2012?” he asks.

“2011.” You grab the last of what you need and pull a stool up, taking Steve’s injured arm and laying it along the bench.

Steve hisses as you dab antiseptic onto the exposed wound with cotton. Trying to distract himself from the pain, he asks, “So how long have you been with SHIELD?”

“About four years,” you answer. Your tongue is sticking out slightly on the side of your mouth in concentration as you carefully rub burn cream over the length of his forearm. He can’t help the thought that the tongue thing is a bit adorable.

“What got you into it?” Steve’s breathing is becoming less labored as the pain subsides gradually, which allows you to relax as well.

“I was in the Air Force. Finished a tour, got recruited by SHIELD. It was a dream come true, because I always wanted to be in intelligence.”

“I thought you always wanted to be a pilot.” Steve is touched by the gentleness with which you stitch a particularly large gash near his wrist.

“I did, but PopPop was also obsessed with spies. We’re pretty sure he was one, but he never told.” You tug the thread and dip back into the flesh again. “I chose the moniker Agent 355 because of a real spy during the Revolutionary War he tried writing a children’s book on. Got my aunt to illustrate it, but no publisher bit.”

Steve chuckles. He can tell you are nervous and so, despite his own pain and nerves, he continues talking about something he hopes will relax you. “Your PopPop sounds like a fascinating guy.”

“He sure was. Real entrepreneurial spirit. In the 80s, he made trading cards of famous spies through history, including 355, and tried selling them to the same company that made your trading cards.” His plan to keep you relaxed is working, Steve can tell. The tension in your shoulders is slightly subsiding, and your hands are steadier as you complete the last few stitches.

“Did he own my trading cards?” Steve asks, with as much of a smirk as his pained face will allow.

“Not that I know of, sorry.” You wind bandage around the entirety of his forearm, stepping back only once you have tugged at the end to make sure it is secure.

Steve examines your handiwork. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.

“Of course.” You wash your hands at a little sink. With your back turned to Steve now, you can focus on relaxing all of the muscles you tensed, and let your hands shake as much as they need to, though his banter had helped a little.

You sigh and turn around. “Why did you pull that stunt, by the way? We could have figured something else out.” You reminded him, “We have all the time in the world”

He shrugs and avoids eye contact. “I’m just ready for this whole thing to be done.”

He does seem very tired, and not in a way that a little overnight in a motel would fix. He seems exhausted in his very bones. And his eyes still hold that despair and exhaustion that, when you first met him, tipped you off he wasn’t happy-go-lucky 2012!Steve, but also compelled you to trust him.

You give him as sympathetic a smile as you can muster. “Soon.”

“Guess we should probably wait to do the Time Stone until my arm heals,” he says. He gives an impatient sigh. “Shouldn’t take long with the super-healing.”

“Ok,” you agree. “Want to go somewhere other than this creepy abandoned Hydra base? How about Portugal? There’s a really amazing hole-in-the-wall place in Lisbon with craft beer and such delicious food but it closed in 2010.”

Steve opens his pocket and investigates the contents. “Probably shouldn’t. We’re running low on Pym Particles.”

You scrunch up your nose. “On what?”

“They’re- Didn’t I say? It’s a special type of particle invented by Hank Pym that we use up a vial of per trip.” He holds one out to show you.

You take the vial in your hand and examine the bubbling red contents with awe. “Right, and we need enough to return the time stone and get home.”

“Well, get you home,” Steve mumbles.

You look up from the particles and narrow your eyes at him. “I knew it. You’re planning something self-destructive and reckless.”

He stares at you. “I see how you got from that that I’m planning something, but where are you getting the self-destructive and reckless part?”

You get real close to him, staring deep into his bright blue eyes as you place the vial deliberately into his palm, curling his fist over it for him. “I’m really good at reading people, remember?” You pull the wheeled stool that stands next to the sink closer to the patient’s bench, and it scratches along the floor with a terrible squeal. “There’s a part of you that’s not so sure, and feels a little guilty. Every time you talk about it, or even think about it, you betray that.”

Steve chews his lip and stares at the ground. When he looks back up, he has tears in his eyes. Instinctively, you wheel yourself closer to him, not even noticing the horrible screeching of the rusty wheels against the concrete floor, and take his hands into your lap. They are trembling, as is his lower lip. All your judgment has melted away into sympathy and compassion, and his walls come tumbling down.

“I can’t do it anymore. I can’t,” he mumbles. “I never wanted to hurt people. I just wanted to help.”

“And you’ve done that. Plenty of it,” you assure him gently, rubbing comforting circles into the veiny tops of his hands.

“I-I do have this plan,” he admits, pulling one of his hands out of yours and running it through his hair. He reaches into a pocket on the breast of his suit and pulls out a worn-looking compass you recognize from the old wartime film clips you’ve seen. You know what you’ll see when he flips it open. “I promised her a dance.” He is whispering now. “That’s all I want. Then I just want to sleep.” He closes his eyes.

“You’ve earned it.” You whisper too, despite there being no one around, likely for miles.

“I can’t help feeling like I’d be shirking responsibility.”

“The world doesn’t rest on your shoulders, Steve. There are other Avengers, other people who help.” He hasn’t returned his hand to yours, so you take your idle hand and lay it on his knee.

“And those other people are my friends, and I don’t want to just abandon them…” he murmurs. He reaches for his compass again, this time flipping it open and staring longingly at its contents.

“Who said anything about abandoning them? I only heard you mention a dance.” You pull back. You think you catch his drift now, and a sharp pain shoots through your chest you don’t like one bit. Your tone shifts from coddling and comforting to something slightly sharper. “Peggy Carter has a family, kids. A husband. I met him at a gala when I was first hired, and he isn’t you. I don’t understand much about time travel, but something tells me you shouldn’t mess with that.”

Is your concern really about protecting the fabric of space and time? Or is it about protecting your heart?

You grab his arm roughly. “Seems healed to me. Ready to go?”

He sighs, and guilt yanks at your bones as he once again exudes that complete and total exhaustion even in just a simple exhale. But you remain firm, tapping at your wrist impatiently until the screen pops up.

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yrpspiritsintheshadows · 4 years

Text

A Strange Arrangement

Hideki sighed in content as he watched the whipped cream he was making double in size in the stand mixer.

There really wasn’t anything quite like the feeling of success at seeing a technique work out just like you practiced it.

“Alright, soon as this is whipped, I’ll get it into the cake and-”

There was a tugging on his apron, causing him to jump. He looked down to see Ken was giving him a puppy eyed look, tugging again on it.

“What’s up, Shark Pup?”

Ken smiled, jumping back.

“Can you make me a lunch?”

“Like, to eat here or a bento? And for that matter, why? I thought you already ate.”

Ken sighed, giving him a kicked look.

“I shared my lunch with my friends. I’m gonna be hungry real soon… Pleeeaaase?”

Hideki glanced at his mixer, checking the consistency of the whipped cream. Fluffy and nearly coming out of the bowl, just how he liked it.

“Maybe later. I need to finish my roll cake. If you’re patient, I’ll put a piece in there.”

Ken perked up, letting out a little gasp.

“Really? Can you put two?”

Hideki gave him a curious look, getting his roll cake set out on the counter and spreading the filling out atop it.

“This is really rich. It’s chocolate with strawberries and I’m gonna cover it with a ganache before freezing it. You’ll get a tummy ache on two.”

“I won’t! The other piece isn’t for me.” Ken put both his hands together, giving another pout… throwing in a whimper for effect. “Pleeeaaase?”

Hideki flinched, trying not to make eye contact. He knew that look. He had become very accustomed to it.

“Ken, please don’t make that face.”

“Pretty please?”

“Ken, who are you even hanging out with? You know you can’t feed chocolate to the dog.”

Okami, as if understanding this, let out a loud whine. Hideki rolled his eyes.

“She’s a really good friend of mine from school.” It wasn’t a lie, Ayami was waiting for him outside and he wanted to share a snack with her. “We’re going on a big hike.”

“I don’t remember hearing you talk about this friend before. Which one?”

“Her name’s Ayami.”

Hideki hummed in thought. He remembered seeing a few kids playing with Ken during park trips but never anyone by that name.

“Ayami, huh?”

He nodded, bouncing on his heels a little, leaning up to watch his big brother work. Hideki’s hands were fast as always, rolling the cake up carefully but securely before sliding it into the fridge. He moved to the stove, starting to melt chocolate together with heavy cream.

“So, can I have it? Please?”

“How long are you gonna be gone? Did you tell Dad or Mom?”

“I’ll tell them in a bit, but Mommy would just go “You have food at home, you two can eat here.” and… they don’t know Ayami’s mommy.” Ken pouted.

Hidei nodded, very familiar with that rule. He grew up with it from Aika and Daisuke. Before the age of ten, no friends were allowed in the house unless they talked to their parents first.

“Well, why not ask her to bring her mom over then? She’s gotta anyways if she’s being dropped off, right?”

Ken went very quiet at this, biting his lip.

“... Ken?” Hideki narrowed his eyes. “I’m not helping you keep a secret.”

“But it’s an important one…” Ken looked down at his shoes. “I promised.”

Hideki sighed a little. He knew that all too well. He wasn’t comfortable keeping secrets like this though. Especially if it went against their parents’ rules.

Sure, he’d gladly sneak the kid an extra cookie or stay up an hour later than he said because his favorite show was on… but when it came to going off alone, or rather, anything involving Ken’s well being after the nightmare incident, he wasn’t comfortable with that.

“Ken…” He looked up from his cooking, meeting his eyes. “I want to respect your wishes but I’m not gonna keep secrets from Mom and Dad. That’s not my thing.”

Ken looked down, breaking eye contact.

“Ayami’s not normal though.”

“Is she like you? Or like me?”

“.... She’s…” Ken mumbled something, looking away from Hideki. The teenager frowned, raising an eyebrow.

“Pardon?”

Ken smiled sheepishly, guilt in his eyes.

“She’s a ghost.”

Hideki’s eyes widened before he put a hand to his face.

“Keeennny, why didn’t you just start with that!?”

“Ehehe?” Ken kicked at the floor a little. “She’s not like a regular one though. She’s a Ghost Guardian… You know what those are, right?”

“Yeah, of course. Ghost kids who stay behind and work under Lady Phantova as her warriors against the undead.” Hideki took his pot off the stove, pouring it over the cake before shoving the entire thing into the freezer. “So, that’s who your little friend is, huh?”

“Ahuh… You see why I can’t just go “Bring your mom over.” since her mom is y’know...a GODDESS!?”

Hideki nodded, wincing a little.

“Yeah… I can imagine. At least tell Dad since I think he’d be more okay with this.”

“I’ll tell him later, Ayami’s waitin’ and I can’t cook.”

Hideki sighed, lowering his head.

“Okay, but just this once. I mean it bub.” He gave Ken a stern look. “And if you don’t tell, I will. This is not gonna be like your bad dreams. Okay?”

Ken nodded.

Hideki sighed before getting started on a relatively simple lunch, making sure there was enough for two.

“And if she offers you ghost fruit, you don’t eat it until you tell the folks. Alright?”

“Okay. Why?”

“I heard it doesn’t wear off that fast and you don’t wanna scare them with thinking you died and came back to pretend all was normal.”

Ken’s eyes widened before he nodded.

“Got it…. And Hideki?”

“Hm?”

Ken hugged him tightly.

“I love you.”

Hideki smiled softly.

“Love you too, Shark Pup.”

Things just keep getting interesting don’t they?

Honestly though, might be just the thing he needs to practice those gifts. He’s gonna see worse things than making a friend out of a dead kid.

It wasn’t long before Hideki saw Ken off, the little boy running off as he joined Ayami’s side. The ghost girl looked over her shoulder at him, giving him a thumbs up.

“Be careful.” He looked down at Okami, the dog giving a huff of annoyance. “What’s her issue?”

“It’s hard for her to keep up.” Ken frowned a little. “Okami, stay-”

The large dog bolted to his side, whining.

“Alright, alright. C’mon!”

“Be safe you two.” He waved, before the kids started to walk off… Only to jump when Hideki let out a yelp.

They looked back, seeing Eiji was standing right behind Hideki. The man raised an eyebrow, motioning with his finger for them to come back.

“... Uh oh.”

Ken gulped, hurrying back over, as Eiji knelt to his level.

“Am I in trouble?”

Eiji held up a finger, taking off his reading glasses.

“Not yet.” He gave a firm look. “First, I heard about half of what was going on in the kitchen. I was grading papers in the living room.”

Hideki winced.

“Frick…”

“You’re not in trouble. Like I said - not yet.” He gave Ken in particular a stern look. “Ken, can I finally meet your friend properly?”

“You knew!?” Ken yelped.

Eiji shrugged a little.

“I played with Ghost Guardians when I was little too. Kind of not a surprise to me, that you’d make friends with them too.” He was nostalgic as he looked Ayami over, nodding as he recognized the armor style. “Yup, the real deal… Which is why I’m not mad. But Ken, you should never be worried about this stuff, like I told you before - you can tell us anything and we won’t be mad.”

“Even if I tried to keep another secret?”

Ayami hurried over.

“It was my fault.” She insisted. “Please don’t be mad at Ken.”

Eiji looked at her, giving her a gentle look.

“I’m not mad. Like I said, I just want to know what my kids are getting up to. The woods aren’t entirely safe but if he’s got a friend like you, I think I can trust he’ll be alright… but I do want to at some point meet with your mother. Is that alright?”

Ayami nodded quickly.

“Frannie wouldn’t mind. If you played with us Ghost Guardians before then you’d know her too, right?”

“Yeah but it’s been about twenty years, give or take.” Eiji patted their heads. “But, no more of these little secrets, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Good… and Ken?”

“Huh?”

Eiji kissed his head.

“Be good and be safe.”

Ken smiled, hugging him tightly, relieved he wasn’t in trouble.

“Thank you, Daddy. I love you!” He grabbed Ayami’s hand as they ran off, Okami chasing after the children. “C’mon Aya!”

“Eep!”

Hideki and Eiji watched them go, before Eiji sighed a little.

“She’s so tiny…”

Hideki looked up at him.

“How young do you think she was?”

“Given I’ve seen Ken playing with someone I couldn’t see since he was about 4? I’d imagine she was five. She’s presenting herself as six right now but she’s still learning. Could be awhile before she decides her final age so to speak.” Eiji sighed. “Makes me just sad for her parents, if they were good ones.”

Hideki looked back to where they had gone.

“If they were anything like mine, they’d just be happy she has a life somewhere. Even if it’s just her afterlife.”

“Yeah… Welp, guess this means we might have a deity dropping in on us.” Eiji headed back inside. “I’m gonna go back sure I swept.”

“... So wait, that’s it? If Titan just showed up here, you’d be this nonchalant about it?”

“Kind of?” Eiji shrugged. “Honestly, this is just par for the course for me. I remember meeting her once when I was Ken’s age but that was twenty years ago. She probably doesn’t remember me.”

“Aww… Who could forget you?”

Eiji ruffled his hair.

“Aww shucks… Now… How about that cake eh?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it. C’mon!”

Hideki hurried back inside, calling out for Hikaru and Carmen. Eiji looked back towards the forest, as the wind picked up around him.

The more things change… the more they stay the same.

oooooo

Ken and Okami were keeping up at a decent pace with Ayami, who was flying above them. The kids were relieved they hadn’t been in any actual trouble.

“Hey, my big brother packed a big snack enough for two people. Do you wanna share it with me?”

“Sure! When we get to a good rest spot.” She did a flip through the trees above them. “Wee!”

Ken saw a large boulder coming up. He picked up the pace, before leaping over it, forcing himself into a flip before he kept running.

“Oooo nice! You learn that recently?” She clapped a bit.

Ken grinned. The extra lessons while practicing with Chase and Eiji were paying off.

“Ahuh! Just can’t do it often.”

“Got ya…” She came to a stop, standing on a high tree branch looking around the forest. “Let’s see… Where to go…”

Ken looked around, Okami whining a bit as she nudged him along.

“Oof! Hey.”

Ayami looked down, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up with her?”

“She smells something she doesn’t like.” Ken moved along, knowing very well that trying to go anywhere Okami deemed “danger” was a bad idea.

Ayami narrowed her eyes, looking around them, focusing on the energy of the forest.

Something was nearby but… it didn’t feel like a threat. Still, she swooped down, pulling Ken up, flying at a pace to keep up with how fast Okami was sprinting away from it.

“Oof! Hey!”

“I don’t think it’s bad but we’re not alone. Let’s not tick something off.”

“Right.” He looked behind them… He saw a bush rustle. “... Let’s get far away. Fast!”

Ayami looked behind them before using her strength to grab onto the scruff of Okami’s neck, lifting them both up.

“ARROOOOOOO!” Okami howled in alarm. She smelled it… It was close but she smelled it.

And she didn’t want it anywhere near her pup or the strange, not living pup.

“Um, Aya what are you-EEP!”

She phased them through a large brush of trees, before stopping at a large rock that had a relatively smooth surface, enough for all three of them to lay across.

“We’ll just stay here a bit.” She gave a salute. “I’ll go investigate.”

Ken frowned.

“It can’t hurt you can it?”

“Naaah. I’m already dead!” She boasted. “Nothing can hurt me!”

“Okay…”

Ayami gave a salute, before hurrying off, turning invisible. She came back to the path they had been on before, peering through the bushes and trees…

Whatever it was she had sensed and what scared Okami, was long gone now. She couldn't pick up a trace of it.

Weird… Maybe a forest spirit?

Ayami shook her head. No, that wasn’t right. It hadn’t felt dead.

The presence was alive… very much alive.

Maybe it was nothing. Probably a fox.

Still, she made note to keep close to Ken during more of these excursions if she didn’t have training.

Ayami hurried back to where Ken was waiting for her, already setting out their snack.

“Well?” He looked up, worried.

Ayami frowned.

“I couldn’t find it. It’s gone.”

“That’s good… right?”

“I think so but I’ll keep around more.” She sat on the edge of the rock, picking up a sandwich, taking a large bite out of it. “Mmm! Oooh that’s yummy! What’s in it?”

“Hideki makes this yummy sandwich spread, with veggies and cream cheese. It’s really good.” Ken smiled a little. “Aya, don’t worry, okay? I know you got my back.”

“And I intend to keep doing that.” She offered him a fist bump. “Ghost friends?”

“Not secret friends.” He nodded, bumping his fist with hers. He looked out over the forest, closing his eyes.

The forest’s energy was the same as ever but… his gut told him something else was around. He wasn’t entirely sure what it meant yet…

But he hoped it was nothing scary.

Just don’t let it hurt my family.

#Spirits in the Shadows #Ken Miyamoto #Ayami #Ghost Guardians #Original work #original writing #literature #paranormal #web series #yellow rose productions #Storm Arashi

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elaraves · 4 years

Text

A Place of Rest

They talked for hours as Elara laid in rest. They took their time catching up since the last time they saw each other. It was oddly very soothing, and helped get her mind off of the events that had recently unfolded before her eyes. That was until they got to the tower attack. There was a very long unsettling pause as the mood of them both had shifted. Dulnefni was the first to break the silence, explaining more in depth his scenario and where the others he was with were currently hiding in wait. Elara explained the details about her counter attack, her fall, and how she made it out. With effort, she also uneasily discussed the slain Guardians she came across.

By the time they finished, the darkness and cold of the night had encompassed them. They couldn’t start a fire, as it would only act as a beacon for their enemies stalking about the area. The only light that found them in their hidey hole was from the moon and their own eyes.

Elara curled more into herself and wrapped her tattered robes around herself as closely as she could with her free hand. She tried to mask it, but she was shaking from the cold. She looked over at Dulnefni, who was currently busy looking out the mouth of the cave. He seemed none the wiser while continuing his self appointed watch. She wondered how he seemed unaffected by the drop in the temperature.

“Evie you’re shivering,” Question softly stated beside her.

“I-It’s fine,” Elara said, a faint fog escaping from the moisture in her voice.

“Here Evie, you can borrow this,” Dulnefni said after hearing them and taking notice.

Elara turned to face him again to see him unclasping his cape from around his neck. With one quick pull, he lifted it up over his head. She gasped softly under her breath. She knew some Hunters who’d rather die than take off their cloak or helmet in front of another person. She always thought he was one of those types. He walked back over to her side and knelt down before gently laying it over her.

It was instantly warm, the fur of the collar barely touching the chin of her face. It had a distinct smell to it as well. Not one of a foul body odor, as his mechanic body didn’t sweat, but of different soils, flora, and battles. It was like this piece of clothing just shared a glimpse of it’s story in that instant to her, and her alone. It comforted her.

“What about you?” Elara asked.

“Ah I’ll be fine. One perk to being a machine, you aren’t affected by the cold. Heat on the other hand, that’s a different story,” he responded, resting back in his spot.

Elara looked from him to her Ghost again.

“Makes sense,” she remarked.

“Now get some sleep, kid.”

Elara pulled Question in closer to her out of comfort of having him close. She was already feeling the lull of sleep now, her eyes growing heavy under the blanket of new found warmth.

“Aye aye, captain,” she softly teased between a yawn.

She rested her head back and sleep quickly took her.

#destiny #destiny 2 #short story #fanfiction

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feargender · 5 years

Text

i’ve been seeing your soul

read here on ao3

Juno shuffles his feet in the hall of the ship, lurking outside of his own door for a few moments, watching the beam of light visible in the crack beneath Nureyev’s door with some apprehension. It’s late, but Nureyev keeps hours nearly as odd as Juno. The ship is silent, save the whir of machinery and creak of metal.

He sets off down the hall toward Nureyev’s door, reaches it, and promptly turns around again, leaning against the wall a few feet away. He walks past Nureyev’s door this time, in the direction of the common area before realizing he has no reason to go there and turning back around.

Nureyev and Juno have… reconciled. Juno doesn’t know if that’s the right word, really, with how fragile things are between them. Benign, ambivalent, but fragile. New and so, so unsteady. Juno could be about to ruin everything, but honesty, dammit. He promised Nureyev (and himself) honesty, when they finally had a series of needed conversations about two weeks before.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when Nureyev’s door jerks open. Juno blinks at him, heart suddenly pounding. Nureyev looks almost as undone as Juno has ever seen him, hair still damp from the shower, sleep shirt loose and frayed at the hem. He isn’t wearing his glasses, and squints a little when he looks at Juno, but he’s smiling.

“I figured that if I waited for you to pluck up the courage to knock, it would be a few hours at least, and it is rather late,” Nureyev says teasingly. “I didn’t realize we were already at the stage of secret, starlit rendezvous, detective.”

Juno scowls. “That’s not- we’re not, I mean,” he pauses, gathers himself, “I’m not a detective anymore,” is what he settles on.

Nureyev laughs quietly. Juno melts a little at that. If there’s one thing he can say he truly appreciates about himself, it’s the ease with which he can make Nureyev laugh. “Just because you’re no longer a private investigator does not mean you aren’t a detective, Juno. But I don’t think that’s what you came to discuss. You did want to talk about something, yes?”

Juno sighs. “Yes. Can I come in?” Nureyev steps back, holding the door open for him. Juno walks through the cloud of Nureyev’s soap smell, different than the cologne he wears, but just as appealing. Juno is beginning to suspect it has much less to do with the product and much more to do with the man wearing it.

Nureyev closes the door softly behind them and leans against it, regarding Juno curiously as he wanders about the small space. Juno has never actually been in Nureyev’s room before and takes a moment to inspect all of the trinkets and gadgets and hidey holes Nureyev has packed it full with. A small potted plant here (how it’s alive, Juno couldn’t say), a box of costume jewelry there, tapestries and stolen art covering much of the metal walls. It feels like a magpie nest, or a dragon’s den.

Finally, he sits on the edge of Nureyev’s bed, one hand coming up to rub at his face. He left his eyepatch in his room and rubs around the lower lid of his missing eye with his knuckles. After long hours of being covered, the skin feels slightly irritated.

“What is it, Juno?” Nureyev asks gently, joining Juno on the bed. Their knees touch.

“Could you feel it? When I was in your mind,” Juno says, eyes trained on a print of an abstract painting tacked onto the wall across from them, swirling colors combined with wavering shapes.

“In a way. You don’t know what it feels like to be alone in your own mind until you aren’t. It felt a bit like something squeezing my brain. Not tightly, but squeezing nonetheless,” Nureyev says, voice a little strained. They very pointedly do not talk about the events of the Martian tomb.

“But you couldn’t see what I saw?” Juno presses.

“Well, a lot of the time the point was that you were seeing what I saw. But no, not really. Just that you were seeing something. Juno, why are you asking?” Nureyev asks again.

Juno turns his head to look at Nureyev for the first time. His face is pinched into not-quite-a-frown, and he’s put his glasses on. Juno shrugs, shoulders tight at his neck for a moment, before he forces himself to relax, looking away again.

“We never really got a chance to talk about it, with everything that happened. What I saw, I mean. In the tomb, before you escaped. I guess I figured that you deserved to know. It is your memories that I’m carrying around with me, and even if you consented to it, it feels weird having them without your knowledge,” Juno explains. Especially with how I have treated the pieces of yourself that you have given to me in the past, he does not add.

“How do you know I want to know?” Nureyev asks pointedly.

“Don’t you?” Juno replies.

“The point of why I initially gave you permission to read my mind has long passed. I’m not wrong in assuming that you have decided that I am worth trusting?” Nureyev deflects.

“Of course I have. But I’m trying out this whole honesty thing, openness and communication and all that,” Juno says.

“How very valiant of you. Very well, Juno. What is it that you saw?” Nureyev sounds so resigned that Juno regrets coming at all, but when he looks over again, Nureyev is watching him intently.

Juno’s gaze goes to another print on the wall, of what he thinks is an ancient map of Earth. “I saw Brahma. I saw New Kinshasa, a floating city. I saw the Guardian Angel System, and how far some people will go for what they think is right. And I saw the birth of a legend.” Nureyev is silent for a long time, and Juno doesn’t dare look at him. He examines the continents on the map, whole oceans between them. He wonders how people separated by entire seas can possibly say they exist in the same place.

“Why that memory, do you think? Out of all the things you could have seen?” Nureyev finally asks. He reaches over across the sea between them and takes Juno’s hand. Juno squeezes, trying to be comforting.

“I think I was looking for something true. Completely honest, like a foundation of who you are. Buried beneath a million masks, I wanted to see where it all came from. Did you ever go back? To Brahma,” Juno says.

“No. Never. And the fact that I’m probably their number one most wanted criminal is only the half of it,” Nureyev chortles bitterly. “Thank you for telling me, Juno, really. But I don’t think I can talk about it anymore.”

Juno nods. “Should I go?”

“I didn’t say that,” Nureyev tightens his grip on Juno’s hand. “You could stay, if you have no objection.”

Juno smiles, leaning over to rest his head on Nureyev’s shoulder. “None at all.”

#kieran reaches out into the void #jupeter #junoverse #tpp #juno steel #peter nureyev #jupeter fanfic #fanfic #mine #good to reblog

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thecloserkin · 5 years

Text

fic rec: Dante’s Stars by Pretani

fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events

pairing: Violet Baudelaire/Klaus Baudelaire

word count: 94k, complete

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: Yes

Is it endgame: Yes

Is it shippable: I’m fucking crying it’s so beautiful

Bottom line: The one and only Violet/Klaus epic, read it and bawl your eyes out (def read the warnings first tho)

It’s a canon-divergence AU where the Baudelaires stage their own deaths to escape Count Olaf. In canon the three Baudelaire orphans—inventor Violet, bookworm Klaus, and baby Sunny—are hounded from guardian to guardian by cartoonish villain Olaf, who will stop at nothing to get his hands on their fortune. Olaf murders or incapacitates every single adult who spares two seconds of sympathy for these kids, leaving a wide swathe of destruction in his wake. In this fic the Baudelaires have decided to wipe the slate clean and assume new identities.

I have mentioned in the past how salty I am about the Baudelaires’ characters being sidelined for Snicket the narrator, Olaf the villain, and/or sundry other bit-players (in the Netflix show the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender p much steals every scene they’re in). In canon we’re not really privy to the kids’ inner lives. This fic avoids that pitfall by sticking with tightly focused third-person Violet and Klaus POVs.

The thing this fic does really well is instill a pervasive sense of dread/paranoia which is remarkable because for the first 25% absolutely nothing ominous happens. The orphans get taken in by a slightly addled, very nice old lady and they just … live in her house. For free. While she cooks for them. And every morning Violet and Klaus hook up in her barn.

Ok back up so the ship they’re passengers on goes down in a storm, all hands lost, the Baudelaires are presumed drowned with the rest. Which is positively providential. The first event of any import to occur is that Klaus swipes some cash from a dead man’s wallet. Violet has ethical qualms but Klaus quashes them by pointing out that Sunny’s starving:

”I’d do anything for her,” he said. “Even become a thief or a murderer.”

Then his dark eyes found Violet’s. “I’d do it for you, too.”

So on the one hand I think this is rather extra. I mean, what possible use could a dead man have had for that money? Money that could put actual food in Sunny’s stomach. The Baudelaires are keenly aware that justice does not equal unquestioning obedience to authority and I think their exposure to a raft of tyrannical and unjust authority figures has hammered that home. They’re down with bending the rules because they know the rules are never even-handedly applied anyway (ie. the show trial at Hotel Denouement, the farcical final exam at Prufrock Academy). On the other hand I remember how uneasy they felt about stealing Hal’s keys in Hostile Hospital, and that was barely a misdemeanor! A friend of mine astutely pointed out how Violet is always trying to behave in any given situation the way their parents would have wished, whereas Klaus takes a pragmatic approach: do whatever keeps his sisters safe. And that is a very interesting contrast and one I want to see explored further.

They get on a train. Things that happen: Klaus notices when Violet is down in the dumps or angry or upset or in this case, wistfully jealous of other people who lead “normal” lives, bustling all around them. He’s not in love with her yet but noticing is the first step. Violet atm is super focused on being the elder sister, the adult in the room, the One In Charge. They get off the train and as soon as they blow into town Violet gets catcalled and propositioned. One of the themes of this fic is the horrendous baseline level of violence against women, some of it normalized and casual like the catcalling. The Big Bad Villain of the piece is literally a guy who’s murdered multiple girlfriends on account of them fridging his ass, since he appears to think that women owe him sex. And this man’s driving ambition is to add Violet to his list of conquests.

So often, men treated her as little more than an object … Klaus was different. He saw her, the woman she was inside.

HOW COULD SHE NOT FALL FOR HIM?? Is there another man she could learn to trust enough to fall in love with? However I’m getting ahead of the story. Klaus is still in the phase where he’s awakening to his attraction to Violet:

She was mother and sister, soft skin and tender strength, and he hid his face in her neck. Like a child, she rocked him gently, cradling his head.

I have to protect her, even if it’s from myself.

He couldn’t take this, his brave, beautiful sister, so near … the knowledge of what those men wanted to do to her. I”ll kill them … And what he wanted …

God but it kills me, Klaus thinking that his attraction to Violet is as noxious as those vile men and their rapacious stares. Klaus himself otoh is president of the Violet Baudelaire Fan Club. The contrast could not be more marked. Look at him building her up when she’s about ready to to give up on picking a lock because she’s lost her hair ribbon:

”I’m done, Klaus. I don’t have anything else to give”. ”Vi … “ he was pleading, willing her to believe in herself again, because he did. “You’re a brilliant inventor,” he told her. “It’s who you are. Nothing can take that away. You don’t need your ribbon.”

The unwarranted parallel that he draws between himself and a bunch of sexual predators is the source of so much angst and pining:

Is that what I am? A pervert?

She’ll blame herself for this

Well, well, well, if it isn’t ye olde I’m-Leaving-Her-For-Her-Own-Good-Lest-My-Perverted-Attraction-To-Her-Despoil-Her-Innocence. I am absolute trash for it every time, film at 11.

”I love you, Vi … I’m in love with you.” He said it like he was confessing to a crime, and she wanted to scream, to laugh and cry all at once.

THEIR LOVE IS A CRIME!!! Could these babies be more pure??

They’d always had an extraordinary connection. It was the reason for their seamless partnership, their ability to support one another … But now, the bond that had kept them alive was killing him. How could anything ever be right again?

”Vi, I’m sorry … I want to be your brother, but I can’t … I want to be more than that … I don’t know what to do.” ”Kiss me,” she said, “and be both.”

THATS IT THATS A WRAP I CAN NOW DIE HAPPY. That “kiss me and be both” is PERFECTION.

And she knew she’d never willingly give herself to anyone but him.

she’d loved him even then. Who could tell when they had crossed the line? It was already too late.

cross the line what line??? they were made for each other.

”You know, we missed the sunrise,” he said, nose to nose with his sister.

Violet and Klaus carve an extra hour out of their morning to go make out in the barn. I shit you not these kids spend a whole month without progressing past first base because Klaus doesn’t want to “pressure” Violet into anything she’s not ready for. Violet, for her part, is beginning to suspect there’s something wrong with her person; why hasn’t he even tried to take her top off? Thank you #Patriarchy for teaching us that desirability is the measure of a woman’s worth. God they are so thirsty. This bitch almost fell over the first time he touched her tits:

“Vi,” he spoke into her hair, voice breaking. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me to —“ But she only titled her head, to meet his mouth in a feverish kiss.

So Klaus and Sunny are having a snow fight and Violet tugs her glove off to tousle his hair and it’s THE SEXIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN BYE. True story after I read this fic I legitimately thought that “Vi” was a pet name Klaus called her by in canon, and when I finally finished the books much much later and realized that it wasn’t—well, it should have been.

There is a fairy tale about a princess who disguises herself in the skin of a donkey to escape the attentions of her lecherous father the king. Violet and Sunny discuss it. Violet points out that rape is wrong because rape is rape, because it is coercive, not because it’s incest. I love it when fic highlights the fairytale parallels to the Baudelaires’ situation, and I feel like Donkeyskin was such a spot-on choice because it’s all about surviving sexual assault and learning to make oneself vulnerable again afterwards? Klaus is the prince who sees through her disguise and falls head over heels in love with her CHANGE MY MIND. On the subject of happily ever after:

”Is that what you think I want? A fairytale? A walk down the aisle in a white dress?" He felt a lump forming in his throat. "Most girls think about those things, don't they?" "I don't," she told him. "I prefer not to. And as for children…well…I love them. That's why I don't want any of my own … how selfish would I be, to bring another little life into this? Another hostage they could use against us. Imagine how awful it would be if…" She shook her head. "No children… not ever. I couldn't protect them." And she turned to him with a soft look. "It's no sacrifice, Klaus. Not for me. I've already been through a… a wedding, you know." He felt her shudder, and she averted her eyes. "I won't be sorry if I never see another wedding dress again."

My dudes, when you have children each and every one of them is a hostage to fortune because of course they are. Also, Violet’s traumatized by the whole idea of being a bride, after going through the wringer of her fake wedding to Olaf. Olaf put Sunny in a cage to compel her compliance, and that’s what the Big Bad in this fic does too. He says things like “You’re a sick little bitch, aren’t you? Spreading your legs for your own brother” which turns their beautiful relationship into this ugly depraved thing to be ashamed of. I mean, this guy was literally a voyeur who would watch them from his hidey-hole while they were being intimate?? My god I would feel so unclean. And the worst part is, he overheard them calling each other by their real names not their aliases, so now he knows who they are and since the Baudelaires are still on the lamb this is bad. It gets pretty dark pretty fast.

“He won't want you anymore! No one's gonna want you when we're done!"

So he kidnaps and rapes Violet. Klaus and Sunny rescue her, dispatch the villain (Klaus’s earlier “I’d do anything” for his sisters, including becoming “a thief or a murderer,” acquires sudden resonance), and that’s when fucking Count Olaf shows up!!!! These kids just cannot catch a break. Turns out the Big Bad was actually working for Count Olaf all along. Olaf’s plan is still the same plan from The Bad Beginning where he plotted to steal the Baudelaire fortune by marrying Violet. Since Count Olaf has never in his life paid a henchman a salary, he was keeping the Big Bad sweet by promising to let him ravish Violet first. Let the full enormity of that sink in. Oh wait a minute Olaf isalso bent on knocking Violet up asap so the union can’t be dissolved on non-consummation grounds, or somesuch:

"You look at me as if I were a usurper, boy, about to steal something of yours. Tell me…" He gestured at Violet. "Is she yours?"

Why would you do this to me??????? This is so, so painful. Olaf uses an electric cattle prod on Klaus and makes Violet watch??? It’s ok though the Baudelaires prevail in the end, and emerge from the bloodstained ordeal as the family they are. My kink will forever be Violet and Klaus praising each other’s bravery and resourcefulness. They! Are! So! Proud! and! Supportive! Of! Each! Other! This line from earlier in the fic gets me every time:

I’ve failed them. This was his greatest fear, worse than death or any torment fate could devise. In his head, he imagined the struggle, saw his girls beaten and shot, felt each blow and bullet as if his own body were the target instead.

Klaus Baudelaire laying down his own body between the world and his sisters is really the only thing I care about:

And then her gaze fell to the marred canvas of his body.

I bet his back is a mess of burn marks ugh. Four weeks after Violet’s discharged from the hospital (practical Violet made sure to get the green light from the medical professionals) they finally have sex again, which is a relief—after the rape they were both hesitant to initiate sex because she thought she was damaged goods and he thought she wanted space? Silly kids. Oh and and here they are being mistaken by strangers for a pair of lovebirds:

One of the women sighed dreamily. "Did you ever see a more likely pair of turtledoves?" "Of course not," Mr. Poe sputtered, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. "The very idea!" And he excused himself hurriedly, to make some phone calls. "Don't be silly," said the other. "They're siblings. Haven't you heard? … They're the Baudelaire orphans." "Well, I daresay," the first one went on, "anyone would've taken them for sweethearts."

I CANNOT WITH THESE TWO

The Baudelaires finally, finally come into their fortune free and clear. They put on their parents’ wedding rings and move to Canada. A cat (!!!) leaves baby Beatrice II in a basket outside their front door, and that completes their family. Nobody deserves good things more than these kids, and this fic ends exactly where it ought, describing “a rural life of moral simplicity.”

I read this fic years ago and it was w i l d rereading it again, thanks for coming along for the ride. If anyone wants to scream/cry about this fic in particular, or Violet and Klaus in general, feel free to send me an ask or message me ANYTIME

#fic rec #asoue #violet x klaus #Baudelairecest

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