#my favorite mask is a bee print mask | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

2hrs2nevada · 5 years

Text

a short story i wrote!

Vrediteli

The air of the new village was hot and thick with insects. To avoid getting bitten, because they knew that the midges carried deadly diseases, the villagers covered their bodies from head to toe and draped cheesecloths soaked in callicarpa juice over their faces. Even still, the bugs slurped on Zala’s blood as if it were a foreign feast.

The air in the new house was hotter still. The wood was swollen, making opening and closing doors a frustrating feat. Tall trees surrounded its walls, shielding it from the harsh August sun, but even in the shade the village was dreadful.

Zala missed her old house. In the winter her old town was blanketed with snow, and even in the summer an occasional cool mountain breeze would make the heat bearable. But her mother’s new husband lived down the mountain and across the Witches Woods, so that was where they moved to, much to her dismay. Here dogs panted, whimpered, and died. Birds twitted lazily as their offspring whined, unwilling to venture out of their familiar nests.

Zala tried to miss her father, but she hated him more. She thought he was an idiot for taking the family out in the wagon on such a stormy day, and on such a treacherous path. What was the point-- to go to the market? As if they needed more skins and wool. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It was his fault, not hers.

The memory made her shudder. The rain, the mud, the heart-stopping snap of the wheel, the clamber of flesh; the shove; the scream. She clenched her teeth. Stupid, stupid.

Even still, a sickening, timid wave of relief would always accompany the recounting. She rubbed her wrist, where the ghosts of deep bruises still haunted her. She regretted it. She did not regret it. She wanted to vomit. A mosquito landed on her leg, and she flicked it away.

The first few days in the new house were suffocating and slow. Zala spent most of her time in the garden-- it was hotter inside the house than out, and she liked to watch the bees through the purple-stained grid of her cheesecloth mask. Her old clothes were far too heavy for the new climate, so she was put to work sewing and hemming, sitting in the shade of the beech trees with a basket of organdy and linen. The routine became tolerable, unlike the constellations of stings on her hands, where her skin was exposed to the elements. Her mother would slather them with salve every night before she went to bed, but the effort was in vain, and all night long Zala was plagued with an incurable itch.

One day, when she had just finished sewing herself a long white skirt that one could see right through in a certain light, something caught Zala’s eye from across the garden. A quivering mass of brown fur was hiding behind a clump of carrot greens. She stood up slowly-- it was a rabbit, she realized with a grin. She hadn’t seen one since the move. The sight was oddly comforting. She stayed stock-still, mimicking the creature’s behavior. Its black eyes blinked and its whiskers twitched. Eventually, when Zala smacked a mosquito dead on her hand, the rabbit bolted, its hind legs flashing white as it disappeared into the brush.

“Mother, do you know what I saw in the garden today?” Zala asked that evening, blowing on her bowl of painfully hot shkembe.

Her mother did not answer. She was talking to her new husband about the state of the floorboards.

“I saw a rabbit, Mother. Can you believe that?”

No answer. Zala sighed and stirred her soup. She never liked tripe much, but it was better where they used to live.

***

The next day, the rabbit was back. Zala decided to name it Tsveta because of a white patch on its hide that was shaped like a flower. She watched it hop among the vegetable beds, nibbling on the fresh shoots. She figured she should probably shoo it away, but for some reason the thought of doing so made her very sad, so she let it feast on her mother’s crops without intervention.

The day after, much to Zala’s delight, another rabbit appeared in the garden. She named this one Rositsa for no reason in particular. It was bigger than Tsveta, and much bolder.

“Where do you come from?” she asked Rositsa, when it hopped close enough to be in what Zala assumed was earshot. The rabbit looked at her silently.

“I’m from the mountains.” She pointed upward, but the trees blocked the view, so she let her arm fall. “You would like it up there.”

Rositsa wiggled her nose and blinked.

“Maybe I’ll take you there someday. You could meet my friends and eat all the carrot greens you wanted.” She was talking more to herself than the rabbit.

By the end of that week there were eight rabbits that Zala could identify. Besides Tsveta and Rositsa, there was Ivan, Rabil, Zornitsa, Yasen, Anna, and Gavrail. Around halfway through, Zala had decided to name them after her old friends.

When the eighth rabbit showed up was when Zala’s mother finally began to take notice. “Vrediteli,” she grumbled. Pests. “Look what they’ve done to my carrots!”

That afternoon, Zala tearfully watched her mother throw handfuls of black pepper across the garden. “Moya lyubov,” her stepfather crowed.“You sadden the child.” Zala just glared.

But that night a storm swept over the village, and the rain washed the pepper away. The next day, Zala counted ten rabbits, slurping on the raindrops that had collected on the leaves of the cabbage. She named the new ones Neli and Hristo.

Zala’s mother mixed blood meal in with the pepper that night, and sprinkled it so generously that the vegetables were the same color as the soil. “Velika, dear, will that not ruin the taste?” her husband whined, but she paid him no attention. Zala shut herself in her room.

That night a tornado blew across the town. Every window in the house rattled as the wind shook the foundations. In the morning, the plants were clean as day, and fifteen rabbits munched happily on their leaves. Zala was delighted. Her mother marched into town to buy more blood meal and rabbit traps. Storms racked the village every night, and the sun shone hot and bright on the closed, empty traps every morning.

Finally, no more than a week later, Zala could no longer keep track of all the rabbits that inhabited her garden. She had stopped counting at thirty, and at least ten more had shown up since then. She had to start naming them after close acquaintances, and eventually teachers and relatives.

Biljana, a plump young rabbit with one floppy ear, was Zala’s favorite. She was brave but gentle, coming close enough to Zala that she could touch her, only to curl up by her feet and go to sleep. Zala would pet her softly, and her mother would yell from the kitchen, “Don’t touch those things, skŭpotsenna. They’ll make you ill!” Zala paid her no mind. She loved Biljana. She loved every one of her little rabbit friends.

One evening, when Zala was finishing up a red linen frock, she noticed one of the shyer rabbits hopping warily towards her. The sun was setting, but even in the dim light she could see it was Zornitsa-- she had a scar on her nose that was easily recognizable.

Zala held her hand out. “Come here, sladurche!” she whispered. Zornitsa inched closer.

And suddenly, before Zala knew what was happening, the rabbit’s teeth were around her wrist and then it was bounding away, Zala’s hand in its mouth.

Zala wailed. Blood spurted from her stump and peppered the newly sewn linen frock on her lap. Her mother rushed outside at the noise and screeched when her eyes fell upon her daughter. “Bozhe moĭ, Zala, what happened?” she cried, rushing to tend to the wound. Zala could only sob. The rabbits had fled. Blood was dripping onto the dirt below her.

She slept with the stump of her arm wrapped in bandages that night. The next day, she did not dare go outside, but when she peeked out the window, Zornitsa was nowhere to be found. She breathed a sigh of relief-- or, at least, that was what it was meant to be. Biljana sat by the window, looking lost. Zala pressed her good hand to the glass.

That night Zala went to bed early, her stomach full of her mother’s Güveç. She had begun to grow accustomed to having one hand. She thought, maybe this isn’t so bad.

The next morning she woke up missing a foot. Bloody paw prints snaked across the floor from her bed to the kitchen and out of the house. Her sheets were soaked a dark purple-red. Her mother put her in a chair and fastened pieces of cloth to the bottoms of the legs so it could be easily pushed around. Zala spent the morning fashioning a floral-patterned bandage wrap for the stump of her leg, and the afternoon sitting by the window, her left calf swaddled in blue and purple cloth stained with burgundy. Gavrail was gone, and the pawprints trailing out of the house that her mother was busy scrubbing away were uneven. Gavrail had a limp.

Zala cried herself to sleep that night. She had not been outside in two days, and the sweltering house smelled of blood and salve. Her bloodstained sheets flowed and flapped on the clothesline outside her window. Another storm was coming to wash away the repellent. Zala wished the sky would let her rest.

She woke up one-legged, and was barely surprised. Anna was gone, and so was Ivan. My leg must have been heavy, Zala thought bitterly as she hoisted herself out of bed and into the chair. Suddenly an explosion of pain shot through her bloody hip-stump, and she fainted, falling to the floor with a sickening thud. She woke up to her mother waving smelling salts under her nose, the pain still there.

Her mother brought her to the village doctor. He asked if she had been around any witches recently. She said no, she hadn’t. He asked if she had done anything to warrant a curse. She said no, of course not. No. Of course she hadn’t. Bile crept up her throat, but she held it down. “Bŭdi vnimatelen, child,” he warned. He gave her an ointment made from the sap of a local tree and told her to get lots of rest.

***

By the end of the week, Zala had lost all her limbs to the rabbits. Her mother was relieved that the garden was nearly rid of vermin, but Zala was miserable.

Her torso had to be taken in two trips, and then Zala was just a head, her mother having propped her up on the mantle so she could still feel like part of everything. When her mother and stepfather left the room, Zala would sob, tears dripping down her face, down the stub of her neck, and fall four feet until they hit the floor. She missed her body. She missed her heart. She missed her father.

That night, unable to sleep, she watched the door creak open, a sliver of moonlight bathing the house. A tiny creature hopped silently across the living room and climbed onto the mantle with surprising haste. Zala let out a choked cry. “Biljana,” she whispered. “Please. Ostavi me na mira.” Leave me be. Biljana blinked, and Zala stared deep into her beady eyes with a pleading, tearful gaze. The rabbit chomped down on her hair and hopped down from the mantle in a single leap, letting Zala’s head thump against the floor. Zala screamed and cried as Biljana dragged her out of the house, across the garden, through the Witches Woods, and towards the mountains. Thump, thump, thump, went Zala’s head, bouncing on the cold nighttime grass, and then soil, then stone.

Suddenly her blood went cold. “Biljana,” she choked, “where are we going?” The landscape was becoming horribly familiar.

The rain, the mud, the heart-stopping snap of the wheel, the clamber of flesh; the shove; the scream. The memory was fresh and raw in Zala’s mind. It was her fault. She pushed her father out of the wagon and off the cliff. It wasn’t an accident. She knew that now; she had known all along. The road grew closer. She could picture a ghostly image: the wagon beginning to fall, her father next to her in the back, and then dangling over the edge as she scrambled to safety, and then…

Even as her head was slammed against the ground, Zala could see what was ahead, the moonlight illuminating the road clinging to the side of the muddy precipice. Rain began to pepper the ground. Beyond the cliff was the mountain on which Zala used to live with her mother and father. She thought of her friends: Yasen, and Anna, and Zornitsa and Gavrail. She wondered if they missed her.

Something caught her eye on the edge of the thin road-- at first she thought it was a person, standing stock-still, but then…

Zala’s mouth went dry. Her eyes went wide. If she had legs, they would have given out. If she had a heart, it would have frozen. If she had a stomach, she would have been sick.

For she did not have a stomach because it was here, right in front of her, along with all the rest of the organs and appendages she had lost throughout the week, all mashed and lumped together into the oozing, grotesque shape of a girl. A strip of her nightdress, soaked through with old blood, was draped over the headless torso of the hideous figure. Between its legs was a gaping hole. Bright red thread was stitched through its skin to attach the parts to one another. Zala recognized it as the thread she had been using the day Zornitsa ripped off her hand. It was sewn with the handiwork of a child, or an inexperienced man.

The thing was propped up on a tall wooden stake, and looked like it was meant to be looking over the cliff into the valley, but Zala couldn’t tell which way it was facing. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. She could only stare as Biljana hopped towards the beast, her jaw still clamped firmly on Zala’s hair. A wolf howled somewhere closeby. The trees rustled in the warm, spitting rain.

Biljana scaled the creature on the stake and placed Zala’s head on its shoulders. From there, Zala could see that the landscape was teeming with rabbits, surrounding her in quivering, blinking waves. She sobbed a prayer to the gray-blue sky. “Otche nash, Ti, koĭto si na nebeto…” She was barely a believer. The rabbits hopped closer still.

WHAT HAPPENED HERE? A terrible voice whispered, louder than a gong. It came from everywhere and nowhere. Zala shut her eyes and whimpered.

UBIETS. The voice grew louder, sending an awful chill across Zala’s scalp. KILLER. KILLER. KILLER. WHAT HAPPENED HERE, ZALA?

Now Zala was screaming the prayer into the night. It caught in her throat and she gagged. “Otche nash…” It was the only one she knew. The rabbits were forming a great circle around the stake upon which she was propped. “Zashtoto Tvoe e tsarstvoto, i silata, i slavata voveki…”

HERE IS WHERE YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER. HERE YOU WILL STAY. Zala could feel the voice, deep in her ear canals, flowing across the mountains. Biljana was on the ground in front of her. She was facing away from the cliff, but she knew what she would see if she weren’t; her father’s body, still and misshapen at the bottom of the valley, lying next to a splintered wooden wheel. She had seen it before.

“Da doĭde Tvoeto tsarstvo; da bŭde Tvoyata volya, kakto na nebeto, tŭĭ i na zemyata…” She blubbered the prayer out as if the empty words would make the animals disappear. The moon was growing low in the sky, and she thought she could see a sliver of sunlight peeking over the horizon.

GOODBYE, ZALA, the voice whispered, and she could have sworn it was the voice of her father, bidding her farewell like he did so many times before.

“Wait,” she cried, “where are you going? Let me down! LET ME DOWN!”

The rabbits began to retreat. The voice was gone.

“Let me down,” Zala wept, but she was alone on the edge of the mountain, the sun beginning to rise, the rain ceasing. Sensation began to creep into her limbs, sliding down her spine like trickling blood. She screamed, then fainted. When she came to, the sun was blazing above her. Birds warbled and snakes murmured from the woods. Every contorted muscle in Zala’s body was taut with agony. “Otche nash, Ti, koĭto si na nebeto…”

***

“Wait here, detsa,” Gavrail urged his children as he began to make his way down the mountain. The old road had been blocked off for decades, ever since the accident-- it was deemed unsafe for travel, so he had to descend the mountain on foot. In his hand was a small wicker basket. It was his wife’s birthday, and he wanted to collect the berries she liked and give them to her as a gift. The only place to find them was the entrance to the Witches Woods.

As he reached the foot of the mountain, a sound reached his ears that made him freeze on the spot. A voice was wailing the Our Father from somewhere closeby. A chill snaked down his spine-- it was a horrible voice, a familiar voice, but he couldn’t place who it belonged to. It continued to howl the prayer, over and over, skipping the amin in every repetition.

Gavrail turned and clambered back up the mountain as fast as his legs would carry him. His children asked him where the berries were; he told them he couldn’t find any, that they would have to come up with another gift. They complied with twin smiles.

#sorry this is so long #writers of tumblr #short story

26 notes · View notes

unsettlingstories · 6 years

Text

Updated index of all stories. May 16, 2018.

Transfigurations: A small, self-published collection of my favorite short stories from 2015. Individual Stories

3 Signs You May Be An Introvert and How to Cope: Some great tips! 30 years ago today, my neighbor’s son disappeared: They miss him. A Case of Hives: My son isn’t feeling too well… A Cure for Writer’s Block: How to find inspiration when it’s just not there. A Curious Dog: My dog won’t stop pawing at a wall in the basement. A Gifted Chef: My friend was one of the greats. I miss him. A Life Worth Living: Big changes lead to bigger results. A Most Welcome Visitor: He’d come to me in the middle of the night. A Pathetic Wretch: His neighbor just won’t stop crying. An Artist’s Canvas: The beauty of symmetry. A Questionable Glory Hole: A young man’s first sexual experience. A Warning To Women With IUDs: Be careful whatcha put up ya. Adrenochrome: The horrible, impossible truth. All Horror Stories About Dolls Are Fake: My daughter was bullied mercilessly. Allison’s Loss: My daughter is devastated by the death of her friend. Alternative Medicine: A wife treats her husband with an old remedy. All Thumbs: My embarrassing habit. A Message in a Bottle: I’m suddenly filled with dread. A Very Bad Place to Hide: Maybe even the worst. Amy’s Wish: Blow away the eyelash and make a wish! An Unlucky Samaritan: Think twice before stopping to help. Are My Twins Spending Too Much Time Together?: For woke mommies only. Assisted Suicide: He begged me to help him die. Attempts to Repair the Irreparable: How do you move on? Bad Sex: Has this ever happened to you and your partner? Bags: A hunting trip goes very, very wrong. Beach Bodies: What’s that out in the water? A whale? Ben’s Fear: He just hated seaweed. Bitcoin Mining and the Death of the Universe: I think I fucked something up. Bits and Pieces: Chunks and portions. Bitumen: A man who loves dinosaurs. Black Balloons: My little daughter saw shapes in the sky. Bluebirds: Possibly the most reprehensible thing I’ve ever written. Bluefin: Use caution when poaching an endangered species. Body Cast: The worst thing that can happen when you’re immobilized. Body Hair Removal: I learned a valuable lesson. Bridgeport Power Plant: There’s something living there. Bubbles: Strange happenings in an emergency room. Butt Stuff: The activity - not the other thing. Caroline’s New Teeth: The Tooth Fairy’s best customer. Caviar: Only the best for discerning palates. Centipedes: There’s some big ones out there, you know. Charles Robert Olevsky: Ever Google yourself? Chopped!: An unaired episode of the Food Network show. Christmas Morning With Danny and His New Puppy: Danny gets a puppy. Comfort Food: Anything to help fill that void. Coping Mechanisms: Life after losing a husband and a daughter. Cracks in the Foundation: A relationship on the edge. Dawn: I hurt my sister so badly. I’ll never forgive myself. Daycare Massacre: A terrible incident before a hurricane. Death Looking into the Window of One Dying: His final days. Dede Elgy: This monster story will make you feel dirty. Very dirty. Deniehyfield, Australia is Being Dismantled: My town is disappearing. Dermatographia: Words on my skin. Devil’s Hole: The geological anomaly, not the…you know. Dial Tone: What’s going on with my phone? Diary of a Woman in New Hampshire: Found a diary. Wtf. Dilation and Evacuation: A friend in need is a friend indeed. Division: Nothing is right. Double Dare: The long-lost episode never seen in the US. Dumbwaiter: A family learns something about their house. Elective Surgery: I just want him to be happy. Elf on the Shelf: He’s watching. Endless Chirping: Ever get a cricket in your room? Escaphism: The journey of one man, his love, and The Verdant World. Ethan’s Halloween Mask: Not all friendships are positive. ExpressionCaptioner.com: This website is seriously weird. Fallenfield Mountain: A geological survey gone wrong. Very wrong. Family Tree: A unique family tradition is revealed. Farm to Table: Fucking hipsters. Fertility Treatments: Some people are desperate to have a baby. Fireflies: You would not believe your eyes. For Lena and Clair: Trapped after an earthquake. Found the Bees: Well, that solves that mystery. Gratification Through Annihilation: Suffer the little children. Great Potential: A lady who loves children. He Went Ahead: My friends and I were into urban exploration. Heather’s Phases: My wife always had body-image issues. House Sounds: What do we keep hearing? I Dream of Names and Cancer: My eternal nightmare. I Pressed My Hands Against My Eyes: And only then could I truly see. I Shouldn’t Have Broken Into My Neighbor’s Garage: I’ll never unsee it. If Anyone Asks: An old farmer notices something about his scarecrow. I’ll Never Wear a Condom Again: No way, no how. Instantiations: An AI gets powerful and utilitarianism rears its head. In Praise of Our God: A helpful neighbor. It’s Hard to Clean Blood Out of a Fur Suit: Right? Jerry’s Mouth: Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats. Jill-o-Lanterns: The murders are all connected. Jim Jameson’s Pumpkins: A dead farmer’s secrets. Know it All: See it all, feel it all, know it all. Last Weekend: Hazmat suits, horror, and a mystery. Licks From a Bear: Skull + electric drill = story. Lippy: I’ve always been self conscious about the size of my labia. Little Cows: Meet the milkmaid. Long Fingers: I can feel them. Making Faces: Strange prints on the windows… Making Their Dad Proud: A family that plays together… Malcolm: You know those floaty things in your eyes? Maria’s Extra-Credit Assignment: Gotta get a good grade. Medical Issue: What’s the stuff I found on a rock? Memoir of a Cam Girl: She is being controlled. Missing Mousetraps: My neighbors had an infestation. Moaning Lollipops: Why do they make that sound in my mouth? Motility: My sperm sucked. Mr. Puddles: A little boy just won’t stop splashing. Mushy Stuff: My parents never let me have any fun. My Amazon Alexa Does More Than Laugh: Please help - I’m in danger. My Brother’s Fall: Horror deep below the Iraqi desert. My Cellar Door is Breathing: Is that normal? My Constellation: Want to be sad? This will make you sad. My erection lasted longer than 4 hours: and I didn’t call a doctor. My four year old son woke up with a full head of grey hair: Help us. My Last Abduction: All the other ones don’t count. My Only Experience With ASMR: Hint - it didn’t go well. My Sister Found the Coolest Thing!: You’ve gotta hear about it. My Sweet Boy: A mom who loves her son. My Trouble With Fairies: They’re so mischievous and unpredictable! My Wife, the Artist: A couple who loves Halloween. Nests: Ah, the great outdoors. Network Security: Two friends get a glimpse of a Russian science lab. Never Ride the Subway at Night: You never know who could be watching you. Norwalk Cemetery: There’s something alien in there… Not All Men: Temper, temper, young man. Of Malevolence; Of Misanthropy: A disturbed scientist makes a discovery. Open Mouths: A hideous ritual. Otter: I’ve always wanted to be one. Ouroboros: Why cut when you can cut off? Pebbles: A strange meteor shower. Phone Sex: It all started when I realized my iPhone was self-lubricating. People are disappearing in Northern Canada: What is happening? Pool Cover: I almost drowned when I was 13. Pray Away: Conversion therapy for deviant behavior. Pretty Little Bugs: A new job as a cameraman. Prosopagnosia: After an accident, my husband couldn’t recognize us. Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice: What can be better? Quarry: Trying to beat the heat on a summer day. Randall’s Chatty Leg: He said it was talking to him. I heard it. Rats in the Barn: An exterminator’s apprentice. Recycling: Parents try to understand their depressed daughter. Rediscovering the Newness of Sex: Let’s spice it up a little. Regarding Danny and Micah Stevenson: Two brothers rely on one another. Regina’s Raspberry Jam: She put everything she had into it. Road Head: Who doesn’t like getting sucked on? Seriously. Roo: An old man watches a girl grow up. Roots of Change: Something is happening beneath our feet. Ropes: Be careful what you eat. Rotting Pumpkins: A Halloween ritual. Round Faces: My daughter keeps complaining about monsters. Safety: Our grandfather was obsessed with it. Seed of Man, Pollen of Angels: A family tradition. Sex, Gender, and Other Social Constructs: Destroy them all. Sex in the Cemetery: Gotta do it somewhere, I guess. Skincare Diary: My acne was getting out of hand. Smokey, the Dog I Rescued: A very very good boye. Snapshot of a New Man: Evil (Inspiration for The Coronation Cycles series.) Soft Teeth: A man used to sneak into my room at night. Sprouts: Something beautiful from something small. Still a Family: Two sisters have lunch while waiting for their parents. Stop Being Such Babies: The woods aren’t scary, for fuck’s sake. Stuffing: Grandma’s was the best. Suicide Woods: Not just in Japan anymore. Tainted Candy: The legend is real. Teeny-Tiny: Katie wants to lose weight. That Good Dick: You know what I mean ;) The Alzheimer’s Ward: This isn’t right. The Bleakness Before Our Old Eyes: The Universe tasted us that night. The Blissful Insensate: An experiment goes terribly wrong. The Cave in the Lake: A discovery while scuba diving leads to horror. The Chernobyl Abomination: My father saw something he shouldn’t have. The Cotard Delusion: A new drug has a frightening side-effect. The Day I Started Believing In Ghosts: I’m still in shock. The Empty Cribs on Hawthorne Lane: Missing children. The Face in the Clouds: A meteorological anomaly? Or something else? The Floor is Lava: We all used to play that game, right? The Giggliest Girl: Don’t tickle me, Mommy. The Gray in Girl: A man finds a girl on the side of the road. The Hitchhiker: I think I need a new car now. The Incident at the Train Station: After a suicide, something…worse. The Job I Couldn’t Leave: I was employed by a psychopath. The Last of the Trick-or-Treaters: A strange costume. The Last words of an Explorer: A city on no one's map. The Least Satisfying Explanation: And the biggest understatement I’ve made. The Little Ghost: That nagging voice inside your head. The Lord of Hosts: Lice The Moose Hunt: Is…is that really a moose? The Perils of Live TV: It’s not all fun and games. The Perks of Working in a Funeral Home: There aren’t many, but still. The Pilot: A UFO crash. The Oblivion that Masks Pain: Escape. The Old Mine Outside Town: Everyone was too scared to go in. I wasn’t. The Only Solution: How to bring back a loved one? The Only Thing That Matters: Zombies attack a supermarket. The House in the Woods: Bad title, good story. The Shores of Pluto: A journey without moving. The Sleeping Game: We played when we were kids. The Small Eyed Children of Canyon del Cristo: A local legend comes alive. The Squirming Man: Please leave me alone. The Star Bridge: My friend found something beyond life. The Tomb of the Builders: Divers looking for sunken treasure find something evil. The Trawl: We dragged something up from deep underwater. The Wisdom of Moms: Mother knows best. The Worst Party in Ten Thousand Years: Trust me, it’s pretty damn bad. There is nothing wrong in East Flatbush, Brooklyn: Ignore the dragonflies. There’s something very wrong with my parrot: WTF. Tiptoeing the Line of Consent: But never crossing it. To Adore: Our beautiful baby girl. To the Kind Folks at WebMD: Just a couple questions. To Travel: Bodies in bodies, bodies of bodies. Trees of Eyes: They’re watching. Tunnel Rat: My grandfather told us the worst story I’ve ever heard. Seriously. Uncle Liam: I never told the real story about how he died. Under My Teeth: My mouth is screaming. Uplift: A brilliant scientist works to improve the human condition. We’re All Smiling: Whether we want to or not. We Share the Empty Roads: You’re never, ever alone when you drive. Wet Bedroom: A haunted house with a hideous history. What He Told Me: Evil (Inspiration for The Coronation Cycles series.) Wikileaks: A document they refused to leak. What to expect when I’m expecting: Hint - it’s the worst. Why I Don’t Hike Anymore: Not what you might think.

Story Series

The Smols: Maybe the most fucked up stories I've ever written.

Sade Smols Emmy Smols

The Secret Doctors of NASA: A wide-ranging conspiracy.

A Dentist's Discovery A Psychologist's Suicide A Surgeon's Nightmare

Tales from Social Media

Something horrible is happening to me on Tumblr Something horrible is happening to me on Facebook Something horrible is happening to me on Reddit Something horrible is happening to me on Grindr Something horrible is happening to me on Myspace Something horrible is happening to me on Pokemon Go

Sockets: Craigslist allows you to meeting interesting people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

#horror stories #scary stories #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #creative writing

2K notes · View notes

emoboijk · 6 years

Text

Jeon Jeongguk—To Know a Person (06)

You’ve been calling, texting, emailing for years. But is that really enough to know a person? You’re about to find out. —fluff and angst

01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07 :: 08 :: 09 :: 10 :: 11 :: epilogue

3,562 words

gif cred

Jungkook had a million and one things he wanted to show you in Korea.

After he’d all but tucked you into bed the night you arrived, he camped out on the couch in the living room, with a concentrated look on his face. His bottom lip hung down slightly and his eyes were glassy when Yoongi finally wandered into the room around two in the morning, looking for a midnight snack.

“Gwenchana?”

Jungkook shook his head, no. He was chewing on his bottom lip, a laptop open on his thighs and his back hunched as he looked at it. He was going through a website—“Ten Best Places to Visit in South Korea.”

Yoongi shook his head, laughing at the sad sap. He plopped down on the couch next to him, momentarily forgetting his hunger. He bumped Jungkook’s elbow and said, “You know Seoul, Guk, just take her to your favorite places.”

“I want her to be impressed,” Jungkook whined, “I want…” He sighed, unable to finish his sentence because the things he wanted seemed over the top and extreme, things that would be deemed ‘too fast too soon.’

“Look,” Yoongi said, “You said that you’re trying to rebuild trust, right?” Jungkook nodded. “Then show her who you are, Guk. You have to show her that you’re the same person she’s been talking to all these years—show her your favorite places to eat, to shop, make her laugh, use inside jokes. Just be yourself and it’ll all work out.” Feeling he’d done his due diligence, Yoongi promptly got up and wandered into the kitchen.

“So,” Jungkook said, “I should plan my perfect day?”

“At least to start!” Yoongi added.

You wandered out of Jungkook’s bedroom the next morning near seven o’clock. You’d slept like the dead, much more soundly this time, although not quite without anxiety. Your eyes explored your surroundings curiously. The bare bones of the apartment were fashionably monochromatic—the cabinets, floors, and walls. But there were splashes of the members everywhere that were relatively easy to identify. Artwork that Taehyung must have hung up, gaming equipment and drawings that must have been Jungkook’s, half-broken headphones and earbuds scattered everywhere (which you guessed were RM’s), bright pillows and accents that screamed J-Hope’s style. Quickly glancing into the kitchen you saw cooking equipment that seemed like Jin’s taste, a small synthesizer that you suspected was Yoongi’s, and there were less than skillful snapshots that had been printed out and tacked to every available surface (Jimin’s handiwork you guessed).

And then, in the middle of the room, a splash of white sheets splayed over a dark couch, pale limbs hanging off the edges. You stepped further into the living room and stood at the edge of the couch, Jungkook’s feet dangling in front of you. You smiled at this image, realizing that it was just how you pictured he’d slept—dead and numb to the world, in whatever position he happened to land in. When your eyes found his face, you felt a warmth spread out in your chest from the peaceful expression he wore.

He looked so innocent now and you were reminded of all those times he’d confided in you. The anxiety he felt, the pressure. It hadn’t made complete sense, but it did now. Fame was a heavy burden to bear and he did it with such grace. But you had been privy to the sweat and grime underneath the grace, even if you had been somewhat ignorant of it.

“Don’t wake him,” Yoongi said from behind you, in near perfect English. You turned so quickly you got whiplash and Yoongi almost laughed. He added in smooth Korean, “He hasn’t gotten much rest the last few days. Let him sleep.”

You nodded, following the near-stranger into the kitchen. He was at the coffee maker, brewing a fresh pot that smelled delicious. He didn’t say anything more and you felt the need for words to fill the silence, so you told him your name.

“I know,” he chuckled, “Jeonggukie has told us...everything.” He paused, smiled and added, “He was right, your Korean is very good.”

“Kamsahamnida,” you blushed slightly, avoiding his gaze.

Yoongi leaned against the counter and waited, taking his time to slowly size you up. You were acutely aware of his silence and his shrewd gaze. When you looked up, your eyes met. His gaze was stern and cold, but there was a question in them. You did your best to answer it in kind.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Yoongi said, allowing himself to speak freely in Korean.

Your brow furrowed, “Yes,” you said immediately and translating, “Of course.”

“You’re just...confused?”

“Yes,” you whispered, trusting he understood English enough to understand this next part, “I’m afraid that I can’t trust him again.”

Yoongi nodded, trying to let himself move from over-protective hyung to stand in your shoes for a moment. And he did understand how it could be hard for you. But—

“If you know Jeongguk as well as I think you do, then you know you can trust him.”

The coffee maker beeped and he turned back to the pot, pulling two cups down from the cupboard and pouring the contents into them so that steam curled lazily from the top in invisible tendrils. He turned and offered the cup to you and you bowed your head in thanks.

By the time Jeongguk woke up, three hours later, you had showered and dressed and were now in the kitchen, trying to make breakfast. He woke up to the sound of the fire alarm beeping loudly. He sprang from the couch and landed on his feet in a fighting stance, like an anime character.

“Aish,” Yoongi said, poking fun at you in Korean. You laughed and apologized, waving a baking sheet pan at the smoke detector to clear the area and make it stop. Yoongi was bent double with laughter, a pan in the sink with water pouring over it to quench the fire.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook said, his eyes wide and wild. He coughed from the hazy atmosphere and watched the ease with which the two of you interacted. After that initial terse conversation, Yoongi had decided to treat you like family, because you practically were. And you were eternally grateful.

“Your girlfriend has a smoking problem,” Yoongi said seriously, hiding his smile.

“Yah,” you whined, slapping him lightly.

“Don’t stop waving!” Yoongi almost yelled. You squeaked and started waving with even more determination. The whole scene made Jungkook, still in the doorway, his shirt over his nose and mouth, smile. And the casual way that Yoongi had called you his girlfriend had a million bees buzzing happily in his chest.

Glancing at the clock he said, “Shit, that’s the time, I had plans,” he pouted.

“Plans?” you grinned, “You had plans?”

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled slightly and he avoided your gaze, “Uh, yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I have to shower.” And he darted out of the room in a hurry.

“This is going to be great,” Yoongi said. You turned and looked at him inquisitively and he elaborated, “You are the golden maknae’s weakness.”

You chuckled, arms burning from the constant waving, “So you’re going to tease him relentlessly?”

“Yes,” he grinned, moving past you to open a window and help clear the smoke.

Jungkook was out of the shower in record time, although you figured he’d perfected the art of quick-showering, what with being a famous idol and all. What took a long time was him standing in front of his closet in only a towel, trying to pick an outfit.

He’d wandered into the bedroom after knocking several times, to make sure he wouldn’t surprise you. Once he’d heard your voice from down the hall, he figured the coast was clear. He slipped into the room and locked the door, smiling when he spotted the traces of you scattered everywhere—the unmade bed, the makeup bag, the cell phone charger, your opened suitcase. He dwelled on it for only a moment before turning to his closet.

When it had been fifteen minutes, Yoongi rapped loudly on the maknae’s door and said, “What are you doing in there?”

Jungkook peeked his head out the bedroom door and worried his bottom lip as he said, “What should I wear?”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi said, “Something comfortable.” And then he walked away.

Jungkook emerged two minutes later in jeans, a sweatshirt, and his favorite boots, still feeling like the world was going to end. In a way it was, you were the asteroid blazing towards him to destroy his world.

Except in a good way.

Jungkook shook his head to clear the metaphor from his mind. It gave the whole thing a very devastating vibe, which was not something he wanted on your first date. He walked into the living room with his hands in his pockets, the anxiety twisting in his chest painfully. But as soon as he saw you, leaning against the couch, reading over Yoongi’s shoulder as he wrote lyrics, it melted away. Just like it had, not so long ago, when he called you after a tough show or a grueling rehearsal.

You, ever alert for his presence, turned to smile at him. “Ready?”

Jungkook wondered in the back of his mind if ‘I’ve been ready for five years’ would be ‘too fast too soon.’ Instead, he nodded and glanced at the hooks by the front door where they kept the keys. He bounded over there, and plucked a set off a hook, “I’m taking the car!” He slipped on a casual jacket and donned his go-to disguise: dust mask, sunglasses (retro today) and a cap.

“Okay,” Yoongi said, hiding a smile, “Have fun, you crazy kids.”

You laughed and followed Jungkook out the door.

The car was a simple sedan in a muted color, a few years old. Nothing conspicuous or crazy, and Jungkook hesitated slightly, wondering if you were expecting more. But your expression didn’t change and you watched him hopefully as he walked to his door. “Where are we going?” you wondered, feeling surprisingly comfortable speaking Korean with him. You slid into your seat and he lost all feelings of apprehension in the face of your smile.

“It’s a surprise.”

It took less than twenty minutes to get there. And ‘there’ was a tall, grey building with large Hangul letters above the doors. You raised your eyebrows and smiled nervously at him.

“Is this okay?” he wondered, apprehension crawling up his spine once again. Yoongi had said to plan his perfect day, and this was definitely one of his favorite things to do. But what if you didn’t want to do this?

You chewed on your bottom lip and admitted, “I’m not sure what it says.”

Jungkook burst into happy, relieved laughter, “It says,” he paused as he turned the English and Korean over in his mind, “Rock Climbing Center?” He pronounced each syllable with care as he translated, still unsure if he got it completely right.

“Really?” your eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” he whispered in quiet Korean.

“Awesome!” you cheered, undoing your seatbelt, “I haven’t done this since I was a kid!”

Once inside, you could feel Jungkook’s excitement buzzing off him like a bee hovering over a flower. He was bouncing from one foot to the other, smiling up at the tall rock-climbing wall with an expression that was pure adrenaline. He’d shed his mask, sunglasses, and hat, feeling safer inside than when wandering outside.

You were a little more apprehensive, truth be told. But Jeongguk had admitted, once or twice, to loving this kind of thrilling activity. Something physical with an element of danger—those were his favorite things to do. Far be it from you to put an end to this.

Besides, watching Jungkook now, you had faith that he would make this one of the best experiences of your life.

He turned on you with a scrunchy-bunny smile, his eyes squinted closed happily. “Excited? Ready?”

You tugged on the various harnesses that the employees had secured to you and said, “As ready as ever.”

“I’ll go first and you can meet me up there,” Jungkook said, leaning forward and kissing your forehead casually, without a second thought. But the spot burned on your forehead with a sharp awareness that Jungkook did not seem to sense. He started up the wall quickly and without a sign of apprehension.

His attention elsewhere you touched the spot his lips had pressed against gently with your hand, a smile coming to your lips as a familiar warmth flood through you. It was the same sensation as the first time he’d introduced himself or told you that you were his best friend, or...heard his voice.

You’d been laying in bed late one night, holding your phone above you and texting nonstop with Jeongguk for what seemed liked ages. The screen had changed suddenly, his name flashing brightly like a warning light. Your heart had raced but you’d answered anyways. The moment his voice had floated across the grainy speakers you felt a near physical change, completely soothed by the soft tones of his excited Korean and his accented English.

By the time you were done reminiscing, Jungkook was at the top of the wall, perched on the balcony that was set up there. His legs dangled and he raised his arms above his head, whooping loudly, “Did it!” He glanced down at you, a glow distinctly caused by adrenaline flushing his skin, “Your turn!”

“Don’t expect me to be that fast!” you yelled up at him, adjusting your helmet and facing off with the wall. You climbed up slowly, with about as much struggle as you anticipated there being. But Jungkook was grinning down at you from the makeshift balcony at the top of the wall, cheering encouragement so enthusiastically that you blushed.

The employees down below that were handling your and other people’s ropes, grinned at the exchange, muttering something about your being a cute couple.

You were almost at the top when you glanced up to find Jungkook’s face directly in front of you. Your fingertips were burning from hanging onto the rock wall, and Jungkook’s face was grinning at you smugly.

“Annyeong,” he wagged his fingers at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, flushed from the exertion, “What are you doing?”

He smiled, forgetting himself for a moment as he said, “This.” He leaned forward and pecked your lips with his own. Surprised and happy you let go of the wall with a gasp. You were immediately caught by the ropes, but both you and Jungkook had a bit of a heart attack at the sudden drop. But as soon as he saw you were safe, Jungkook grinned at his effect on you. You hid your face behind your hands as the employee lowered you to the ground carefully. Jungkook had been so shy until now, but you figured the adrenaline and endorphins were having their effect.

He met you at the bottom, free of the rock-climbing restraints, as you were getting out of yours. You slapped his arm playfully, cheeks red with embarrassment. Still high from the adrenaline he smirked, “Did I scare you?”

You glared at him, keep your lips closed tightly because of the employee still unworking the various straps and ropes attached to you. But when you exited the building on your way to the car you slapped him again, “What was that?”

“What?” Jungkook said, grinning as he turned to you, “This?” He put his hand on your cheek and neck, pulling you close to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, Jungkook was still aware that you were in public after all, but it had your whole body consumed in a warm happiness.

“So,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze as you tried to get your pulse down, “We’re doing that now?”

“I got tired of waiting,” he grinned, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you forward, “It’s been five years, after all.” You couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so instead, you just squeezed his hand and smiled.

Jungkook seemed infused with energy now, after the surge of adrenaline that came with rock climbing and kissing you. He was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel of the car to the beat of the music on the radio, muttering the lyrics absently under his breath as his eyes scanned the road alertly. You smiled as you watched this, finding these simple, fidgety, habits of his completely endearing. He’d shoved his mask down his face so that you could see the perfect outline of his lips as he mouthed the words to the song. You didn’t notice that you had arrived until his lips stopped moving and he turned to you with an open expression.

You blushed and looked away, following him out of the car and towards the entrance. “Okay, okay,” Jungkook was bouncing again, and you were beginning to develop a fondness for his little, excited bunny hops. He removed the mask and tucked into his pocket, rubbing his palms together, “The arcade.”

“The arcade?” you laughed, “What, are you twelve?”

Jungkook’s expression soured and you worried for a moment that you’d ruined the mood, but the sour expression transformed into one of mocking. He stuck his tongue out and said, “Don’t be jealous that I’m going to beat you at literally every game!”

“Um, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to,” you smirked, “but I am definitely going to win.”

It passed by in a blur, like a movie montage set to an upbeat pop song. And, of course, golden maknae that he is, Jungkook beat you at almost everything. But, in your defense, you hadn’t played arcade games in years. You’d been there three hours when your stomach growled. Your hands flew to your stomach as if to hide it. Jungkook smiled, “Hungry?”

“Starved,” you grinned.

“Let’s go to my favorite place.” He took your hand and pulled you across the street and back to the car, “It’s by our next destination.”

You pulled up thirty minutes later in front of a stony, all but deserted, beach. The salty air hit you as soon as you stepped outside of the car, it felt harsh but cleansing. Just the thing to scrub away old prejudices and leave the slate clean. It almost made you forget about how hungry you were.

Jungkook was by your side, his fingers tracing unconsciously down your arm to clasp your hand. He whispered, “Food first.”

“Yes,” you grinned, turning away from the sand and sea.

“This way,” he said, leading you to...a food truck.

“A food truck?” you grinned, “This is your favorite place.”

“Guilty pleasure,” he shrugged, leaving you for a moment to place your orders and pay. You raised your eyebrows when he came back.

“What’d you get me?”

“It’s a rice cup,” he explained, “You’ll like it.”

A few minutes later, you sat on the railing that separates the parking lot from the beach, spooning egg and rice and pork into your mouth. It tasted soft and buttery and warm. It fought off the cold sea air so effectively that you felt euphoric. When you finished you placed the empty cup next to you and leaned your head on his shoulder.

He smiled and held your hand again, “Wanna take a walk?”

The beach was cold but the sand felt soft between your toes, and Jungkook’s hand hadn’t left yours the entire time. His thumb was smooth and rubbing wild, inconsistent patterns across your knuckles and the back of your hand. He was watching the waves to keep himself from focusing too intently on you, and your eyes wandered to the ground, pebbles, and shells scattered across the surface.

It surprised you when you realized the silence. It had been almost half an hour without a word passing between you, just the birds and the waves and the touch of his skin against your own. You thought he must be tired, you both had done a lot today. But then you realized, too, that you’d never been in a space where this kind of comfortable silence could exist. Texting and phone calls required constant communication. And now you were allowed to just...be together.

And then the other surprise hit you. Because the feeling you had now, the bubbling happiness in your chest, the peaceful calm...was familiar. You felt this way when you spoke on the phone for hours on end, or when you sent cute text messages back and forth.

You stopped suddenly, Jungkook reeling in surprise when he felt your feet plant into the ground. He turned to look at you with wide eyes, his gaze automatically scanning up and down to see if you were hurt. “What?” he spoke softly in Korean, as if afraid to break the atmosphere that had been constructed.

Your lips turned upwards as your eyes scanned his face, the same way you had done when you met him at the airport, except now you saw something different. “Jeongguk?” you whispered, the sound completely the same and yet entirely different, it finally clicking in your mind. He tilted his head and smiled.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, smiling to yourself, “Nothing.”

author’s note—so fluuuuffy!

for more of my works check out my m.list ❤

#rosynamjoon #bts #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #bts series #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #to know a person #bangtanbuds

169 notes · View notes

agarbageyouth · 6 years

Text

Come With Me - Medic x Pyro

@axis-intercept

"Hudda!", a muffled voice called as the sound of a phlogistinator blast resounded through the BLU base. Two familiar figures running through their courtyard, RED Medic towed by his favorite fire obsessed comrade. The phlog his friend carried sparked to life. The cool metal had quickly lit with a lovely apple color, static shooting off in several directions. Medic sprinted behind the Pyro; their laughter echoing within the halls of this Teufort base.

They were both quite amused, a bright smile on Medic's face as he and Pyro continued with their antics. By the time the phlog ran out of power they had committed a complete team wipe; the Administer shouting through her microphone, "We've taken the enemy intelligence!"

The doctor grinned as Pyro motioned for them to retreat. They ran together and met up with Scout down in the courtyard. Pyro gently gave Scout a pat on the head before he ran off with the intel, leaving Medic and Pyro to ensure he wouldn't be followed.

"Where is your doctor now?", came Heavy's yell from outside the front entrance. Medic glanced in that direction; his glasses reflecting the light that shone through the door. It was sunny today, and yet not quite warm enough for summer. The rickety bridge that ran over the small divide in between the bases creaked as Scout ran over it. Sunlight rained down and into the building in golden beams, as if god himself was using a medigun to heal the ground the sun touched. Even with the sound of gunfire, Medic found this place to be quite beautiful.

A 'whoosh' sounded behind him however, and Medic found himself pushed to the dusty ground; not seconds later Pyro slamming his fire axe into a recently de-cloaked Spy. His gaze shifted to Pyro, a surprised look on his face. Pyro, seemingly, looked back at him and reached a hand down to him. Medic gladly took his hand, and was immediately pulled off of the ground.

"Victory.", the announcer's voice calmly announced. Pyro grabbed Medic into a hug, a muffled laughter coming from within his mask. Medic chuckled and hugged his friend back; his cheeks dusted red.

"This calls for celebration, my friend!", He said to Pyro as he pulled away. A simple nod is what he received in response, before Pyro grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door. Medic snickered and followed closely behind as Pyro lead them back to base. This was an often occurrence when they were victorious, and thus Medic could already guess what they were going to end up doing.

He was lead through the halls of the RED base, their team high-fiving and dancing throughout the building. Medic was lead down into the intel room re-supply, where he and Pyro generally hung out to play games and watch television. Pyro ushered him into his normal sitting spot before he ran out. Medic tilted his head at this, though wouldn't question it. His friend worked in mysterious ways, he had learned over the time they spent together.

Medic remembered when he had first joined the Reliable Excavation Demolition team. He had been quite introverted, left namely to himself within the confines of their respawn area; working on the medigun and left to his own thoughts. He thought back to when Pyro joined, and how the fire lover would come in to visit him.

Pyro could often be found bringing in hair clips for Medic during that time, gently moving his hair out of his face for him while he worked. For a while Pyro had even started asking him about his work; in his own, Pyro way. That had been a while ago, however.

Medic felt a tickle on his forehead. The little fluff of hair that normally remained brushed slightly to the side had come down once again. He leaned against the wall and gently reached into one of the many containers that hung around his waist, pulling out one of the many hair clips Pyro had given him. He gently moved the hair up and clipped it, the black color contrasting with the pink clip.

The door slid open, Pyro rushing in with a couple of boxes. He practically slammed them onto the floor. He pulled a large blanket from one of them and lied it down in front of the supply container, grabbing the other two boxes and dumping their contents down onto the blanket. He then, politely, gestured Medic to take a seat.

The doctor sighed a bit and nodded, sitting about a foot away from Pyro. The contents of the boxes Pyro had dumped varied. Several game boards with pieces mixed together, some sandwiches that had been wrapped in plastic, Old movies, an entire package of balloons, and a fist sized rock. Medic raised a brow at the last one, picking up the rock with a gloved hand.

"Pyro?", he looked over at the aforementioned maniac only to be pulled into a hug then immediately pushed away. Pyro's hands flailed a bit, roughly the same level that his shoulders sat at, and even with his mask it was almost obvious that he was smiling. He reached over and took the rock from Medic's hand, only to turn it over and shove it back towards him.

On the other side of the rock, it seemed as though Pyro had drawn a smiley face. It was even labelled with the name 'Craig'. He chuckled a bit and gave the rock a small pat before setting it down.

"Clever", he remarked and smiled at Pyro. Pyro motioned an 'oh, you' at Medic before picking up one of the gameboards and handing it to the doctor. Medic looked it over, finding that the checkered black and creme board had been drawn on. Small doodles of flowers, bees, and various other life littered its surface. He couldn't help but smile as Pyro pushed the other boards onto his lap, revealing similar drawings on all of them.

Medic picked up one of the game pieces and snickered with what Pyro had done to it. He picked up a few more only yielding the same result; his snicker turning into a giggle of amusement quickly. Every single one of the pieces had googly eyes glued on, with little mouths to match. He found it quite amusing that anyone, even Pyro, would have taken the time to meticulously place them on such small pieces.

Pyro pulled Medic onto his lap and nuzzled him as if he were a dog, his arms hugging the doctor tightly in an awkward sort of cuddle. The doctor laughed and looked at Pyro.

"You are quite skilled with glue, mien freund.", he gave Pyro a toothy smile.

The door opened after a few seconds, interrupting them. Both of their heads turned, almost in unison, only to find Spy standing there.

"Gentlemen.", he frowned. "We've received a message from our employer. We're being moved by tomorrow morning.", Spy commented simply. "I'd recommend packing your bags. It doesn't seem as though we'll be back for a while."

Pyro nodded and gave him a thumbs up. Medic however, frowned with the news.

"Where are we being sent?", he asked.

"Coldfront.", Spy responded in turn; his resting face giving him an almost annoyed look.

"What?", Medic tilted his head as he pushed out of Pyro's arms. "I wonder why.", he stated. Spy simply shrugged in response before exiting the room, leaving the pair to themselves.

Medic looked back at Pyro. "Shall we pack, and continue this some other time?", he asked. Pyro's shoulders dropped as he slumped in disappointment, but gave a thumbs up nonetheless. "Ah, don't worry. We'll spend time once again when we reach the new base.", Medic nodded at him and stood up; brushing himself off. "You can show me more of your collection another time.", the German patted Pyro on the head and started to clean up.

After a while, everything ended up back in their respective boxes and the two had stood up. Medic gave Pyro a quick hug before pulling away. "I'll see you tomorrow morning then.", he gave Pyro a wave before exiting the resupply.

Pyro nodded and waved back, even with the boxes in his hands. He looked back down at the boxes through the darkened glass of his mask. He loved his rock Craig, and loved that Medic liked Craig too.

Craig was his favorite rock.

By the time morning had come, the team was already bustling. Almost everyone ran around in their pajamas as they desperately tried to get last minute packing done before the administrator announced that it was time to hit the road. Solder was cramming heads into boxes, Heavy was talking to Sasha as he buckled her into one of the team van's seats, and Sniper was taking one last bathroom break.

The only ones whom weren't scrambling were Pyro, Medic, and Spy; all of whom whom had all their belongings in boxes the night before, after everyone else had decided to head to bed. Pyro stood outside in a striped night shirt and soft pants with a fire print on them. Somehow, his mask had managed to land itself on his face regardless of his missing suit.

Medic's pajamas were similar, though his were slightly softer as they had recently been washed and his were a solid red color; though they were extremely baggy, and his shoulder practically fit through the neck hole with his head. Spy had already dressed in his suit, his mask and cigarette in place as they had been the day before.

It was cold this morning, a light fog hanging over the base as the three stood outside. Medic began to shiver. He could see his breath, and looked at Pyro.

Pyro caught his gaze and with a cheerful 'aa!' from within his mask, he wrapped the healer in a warm hug. Pyro cuddled him as the team rushed their belongings into the van. Medic leaned into his fiery companion, resting his head on Pyro's shoulder as he huddled for warmth.

After a few moments, the Administrator's voice popped up on the intercom.

"Leave, now.", her voice echoed before it completely disappeared. They waited for a second to make sure she had nothing left to say, before one by one everyone moved into the van. Medic and Pyro had decided to take the seats in the very back, Sniper, Spy, and Scout taking the ones ahead of them, followed by Soldier, Heavy, and Sniper. In the very front sat Engineer, along with someone they assumed had been sent to escort them in the van.

The vehicle roared to life, and almost immediately they were off. The surrounding area of Teufort was rather barren save for the small river that ran across the middle of their battlefield. They followed the water for a bit, Medic noticed, before the river pulled off away from the van. He sighed and leaned back, against Pyro slightly. He set his head on Pyro's shoulder and shut his eyes.

Pyro wrapped his arm around Medic, a delighted giggle resounding from within his mask. He gently pet Medic's hair, running a gloved hand through it. He was careful not to pull and watched as Medic's chest began to rise slower. After a little while, his limp body slumped against Pyro and soft snores escaped his slightly parted lips. Pyro snickered and, glancing forward to ensure no one would notice, snuck a small kiss to Medic's forehead through his mask.

He let Medic fall onto his lap, and used his right hand to play with the small clump of hair that liked to tickle at that lovely man's forehead. Pyro let out a soft sigh. Around Medic it always seemed as though he could relax. Medic was his favorite to cuddle, and when they were in battle he found that they were virtually unstoppable. He found the doctor's smile always made his day.

Pyro's eyes scanned Medic's face, a smile appearing on his own as his gaze skirted over the other male's features. So few admired Medic, and thus Pyro felt it was his job to do it for the remaining seven of his team; and he was perfectly content with this.

Eventually, Pyro's eyes started to droop. He let out a yawn within his mask and leaned back. He gently moved Medic's hand onto the his stomach before placing his own hand on top of it. Then, he shut his eyes and relaxed. This was absolutely perfect. Eventually, Pyro felt the warm embrace of sleep take him and he was happy.

Yelling, a crash, and then silence. Medic drowsily awoke to these sounds. His body ached and when he opened his eyes he found that his glasses were missing; blood trickling down his head and arm. He felt cold against his back. He shifted, and he felt the familiar crunch of snow against his side and the pull of an incline as if he were sat on a hill. His vision was blurred slightly, though he could still see. He tried to sit up, and rubbed at his eyes to clear them.

He frowned as he looked around, only to find he was surrounded by trees and snow. Down the hill, he could see the van; completely destroyed and with no one to be found. He figured that there must have been an accident, and that he had been thrown from the vehicle as it tumbled down to its inevitable destruction. He scratched the back of his neck with his good arm, looking down at his left.

His arm was soaked with blood, a large shard of glass sticking out of it. It seemed as though the initial shock of the incident was keeping pure agony at bay, but even with this he could already feel the waves of pain starting to pick up. Medic shakily stood up, and carefully made his way down the hill towards the van. If he could simply find his medigun, he could fix this and find his team. His shoes slipped a bit on the snow, but he did his best to remain steady. It took a few moments though eventually he made it to the van.

There were seemingly no corpses around, and there was no blood around either. Medic let out a sigh, his breath creating a cloud in front of his mouth. He pried open one of the doors, the piece so bent and cold that it practically broke off. A cool breeze wisped through the air, making Medic shiver. He was freezing.

Medic ducked into the van, looking about the inside. He frowned as he found that no one was here, even as a corpse, nor were there any boxes left here. Had they left him behind? There was no blood, at least from the quick check that he had done, and while every piece of the van was destroyed the boxes would have at least been here if they hadn't abandoned him.

He silently cursed to himself and exited the van, wrapping his arms around himself as he looked around. He had no idea where he was, or where to go. He was alone. Medic let out a sigh and leaned against one of the trees, sliding to the ground and hugging himself tightly. He figured it would be best to at least stay here, in case they decided to come looking for him. He wasn't sure how long he would survive with the cold, though. He would have to wait and see.

By the time the sun had started to set, still no one had come. Medic had curled up inside the van in an attempt to get away from some of the cold. He sat in on one of the seats, shivering and curled in a ball. His skin had turned pale, his lips slowly turning blue, and his head rested against the window. He could hardly pay attention. He felt so cold, and yet at the same time it was like he was on fire. He was sweating and his limbs were becoming harder to move. He wanted so desperately to tear his clothes off to cool down, but he knew that this was a trick of the body. He knew it was only a matter of time before it became too unbearable for even him to handle.

Medic huddled closer to himself, the blood that had oozed from his wounds completely frozen against his skin. He was positive he was going to die, until he hear a far off call.

"Medic!", came his normal call; horrifically muffled as though it was from behind a mask. He recognized that voice regardless. Medic's eyes lit up and he leaned to call out of the van.

"Pyro?", He called back. His yell was weak, however, and Medic doubted Pyro would have heard it with how far off he sounded. Regardless, another call came for him.

"Medic!", he heard. This time, it was closer. He smiled, and even felt as though he was going to cry.

"Pyro!", he yelled out; this time managing to make it louder. He gently stood up, his joints and muscles screaming as he moved. He hobbled out of the van and fell into the snow. The sky above the trees brightly painted hues of oranges and reds with the setting of the sun, as if the entire forest had been set ablaze. The snow reflected the light, dulling it and yet sparkling just like a twinkling ruby.

The crunching of snow could be heard to the left, as if someone was sprinting. Medic turned; only to see his fire wielding comrade. Pyro quickly pulled him into a protective, and yet concerned, embrace. It seemed, at least to Medic, that Pyro might have even been crying. His chest spasming and small, muffled hics coming from the inside of Pyro's mask. Medic pet his back and pressed his head into Pyro's neck.

For a moment, everything was still; the entire forest lit up around them. Pyro pulled back a bit and gently cupped Medic's face in his hand. He made a motion, pointing to the forehead of his gas mask and his left arm.

"I'm alright, for now.", Medic responded as he picked up the memo. "Just...cold.", he pressed his body back into Pyro's. Pyro seemed so warm to him. Pyro sighed with relief in his mask and gently pulled the doctor into his lap, maneuvering so that he could stand and hold Medic against him; much like a reverse piggy back.

Pyro turned back in the direction he had come from and began to walk. The forest around them was quiet, the snow on the tall Evergreen's sometimes falling off in small, powdery clumps. They made the wind dusty, and the icicles in the branches shifted the light. As Pyro walked, he was careful not to harm Medic any more than he had already been injured. The soft crunch of the snow beneath his feet echoed through the trees and his breathing became one of the only other sounds that could be heard.

Medic had his arms wrapped around Pyro's neck tightly, his legs folded around his waste so that he would be more stable. He clung to Pyro like a koala, pressing his body into the other male's as far as he could and still be comfortable. His cheeks had turned a light shade of red, simply with how Pyro had decided to carry him, and this at least warmed his face a bit. After a while, Pyro turned and made a small 'ah' noise within his mask. Medic looked behind himself, only to see what Pyro had made the noise at.

They had come upon a seemingly abandoned building; a fence blocking their way. The building had had two walls torn off, and most of the roof was missing as well. What was left were two walls, and a window on one side. In the middle of it though, sat a large metal plate; with a round light embedded in the middle of it. Pyro walked forward and gently helped Medic over the fence before jumping over himself. He then, picked his doctor back up and made his way into the building. It was wood, and there was so much snow on the inside it almost looked as though there was no floor.

However, under the partial bit of roof that had not been destroyed, a wood burning stove remained. There was a kettle, and even some pots and pans; a lantern hanging just next to them. Beneath the stove, a tray sat holding dry wood. Pyro grinned beneath his mask and sat Medic down next to it, where the snow had not quite reached. He began to fiddle with the inside, throwing in some kindling to try and get it started. He took a lighter from his pajama pocket, and held it on some of the smaller pieces until they caught fire.

He then turned to look at Medic, and gently moved him a bit closer; sitting down next to him to watch the fire. Medic sighed in relief with this break and leaned against Pyro; still shivering, though he knew this would change in due time.

Pyro shifted a bit, to look at Medic. Again, he pointed to his arm. Medic shook his head.

"If I remove the glass now it may become infected, especially with nothing to clean it or cover it. I don't even have anything to stop the bleeding with.", he replied to his friend with a frown. Pyro nodded in understanding. He then stood up, and grabbed one of the pots. He filled it with snow and put it on top of the wood stove; throwing a log into it now that they had at least a small fire going.

Pyro returned to Medic's side and brought him close once again; kissing his head through his mask. Medic's face exploded with red at this, and he looked at Pyro with wide eyes. Pyro simply gave a cheerful thumbs up and turned his attention to the fire, pulling Medic close to him once again.

Medic couldn't help but smile and leaned against Pyro, pulling his un-injured arm around his favorite fire expert. Even with his red face, he mustered up the courage to lean up and kiss Pyro's cheek. Pyro gasped in delight and only hugged him closer; giggling a bit to himself.

The fire began to roar in the pit, and Medic stuck his hands out to warm them up. He could feel the heat radiating out of it, and he could see the snow melting in the pot. His body started to tingle, as he started to warm back up. He smiled and looked at Pyro. For a moment, Pyro looked at him back; before letting out a loud gasp. Medic jumped a bit with Pyro's reaction and raised a brow at him.

Pyro put his hands up, only to reach into his pocket once again and pull out Medic's spectacles. They were cracked, more than likely from the accident, but they still seemed usable. Medic's eyes lit up as Pyro gently placed them onto his face, clapping excitedly.

"Danke, Pyro!", he grinned and kissed Pyro's forehead. Pyro put a hand over the front filter of his mask, as if he were making a surprised face in a joking manner. They both laughed a bit, as the doctor warmed up, and eventually the sun had completely set; leaving an array of stars in the sky. They were illuminated by the soft glow of the fire, and Pyro leaned up and turned on the gas lamp that hung next to the stove.

Eventually, Pyro pulled the pot of melted snow off of the burner and placed it a bit away from himself. He moved to look directly at Medic, before he tore the sleeve of his striped shirt off. Medic frowned, though Pyro didn't seem to mind as he dipped it in the slightly warm water and gently patted at the blood on Medic's head. It took a bit, but Pyro eventually had cleaned all the blood from Medic's face. Pyro then wrung the cloth out and rinsed it again, wringing it out then gently tying it around the wound on Medic's head. Medic smiled as Pyro's attempt, and gave him a thumbs up for his work.

"Danke, again, Pyro. But...let's leave my arm for when we have access to a medical facility, ja?", he asked lightheartedly. Pyro nodded in response, pulling Medic back over to him. He gently cuddled Medic, careful of his arm, and Medic could only giggle with how Pyro was acting.

Pyro pushed the pot of water closer to the fire and leaned back. He lied down, pulling Medic with him, and wrapped his arm around Medic's waist. Pyro gently messed with Medic's hair again, cuddling him in the warmth of the fire until the healer shut his eyes, and drifted into sleep. Pyro remained awake though, listening to the crackle of the fire and the sounds of the night. He leaned over and chucked another log in; removing his mask and setting it next to him.

Pyro's short, ginger hair gently flowed with the breeze. His green eyes twinkle in the light, and the large scars running from the bottom corner of his mouth and down the side of his neck and shoulder resembled shadows. He planted a gentle kiss to Medic's cheek and took in a deep breath. He had always loved how the doctor smelled. He smiled warmly and pulled Medic a bit closer, resting his head on his arm like a pillow. In one way or another, he sort of wished it would be like this forever.

By the time morning had come back around, Pyro had put his mask back on. He sat next to a sleeping Medic and smiled beneath his mask at him. He gently poked at the doctor to attempt to wake him, earning a groan in response. He poked again and this time received a grumble; one of Medic's eyes opening in a slit to look at him.

Pyro gave a muffled good morning to him, Medic slowly rolling over to look at him. The sun had risen reasonably, and the area round them shone a bright white.

"Good morning, Pyro.", he yawned. Medic seemed a tad grumpy, though he was still tired so it was understandable. Pyro offered him the pot of water. It took a moment to register, though once it did, Medic sat up and took it; taking a large couple of gulps. "Thank you.", he smiled at Pyro. "I assume we're going to head out soon, to find out where we are?", he asked.

Pyro shook his head in response. Medic sat the pot of water down and Pyro picked him up, carrying him around the building; only to point up at a small sign. Medic tilted his head and glanced up at what Pyro was pointing at. His eyes widened. There was a BLU sign here. Pyro then led him back through the building, and pointed down a small incline; at a building large building.

"Pyro, you don't think that this is where we were supposed to be moving do you?", Medic asked. "The metal plate in the building is probably inactive. I'm sure there's another base.", he said as he glanced around. Pyro simply shook his head. He reached up and gently moved his mask up, revealing his mouth.

"I saw some of BLU team running around on the other side. That means this is our side. Our team is probably in there already, waiting for us to join them.", he shot Medic a smile. Medic's eyes sparked with interest, his gaze caught on the scar next to Pyro's mouth. A burn, he assumed.

"You're sure?", Medic asked, "If we go over there will there be RED?". Pyro simply shrugged.

"If there aren't, we can always keep walking. I think we just missed it because of the time of night, and how cold you had been.", he grinned and gave Medic's forehead a small kiss. Medic blushed a bit, and nodded. Instead of replying immediately though, he pecked Pyro on the lips; a quick kiss, but enough of one to make Pyro freeze up. Medic grinned and pressed his face into Pyro's neck.

"I'm ready to go check it out, if you are mien liebe.", he chuckled. Pyro could only chuckle, and nod, before gently pulling his mask back down. He hugged Medic tightly as he walked down the path to the building. The door rose open for them and Pyro stepped inside.

He looked around, and found that small imprints had been made where people had walked. They were definitely fresh, as dust doesn't simply set like that, and so he continued to walk. Medic too, looked around. There was no dust, and it was relatively clean for supposedly being just moved into.

They found another one of the large metal plates with the light in the middle; though this one had illuminated with red. Finally, it clicked as to what it was meant to be. They were control points. Medic felt a bit stupid, having only now realized. He sighed to himself. They walked down a hallway, and finally spotted other RED team within the base.

"Heavy! Engi!", Medic called in greeting; Pyro waving to them as he gently set Medic down. Engineer looked over at them, his jaw dropping, and Heavy walked over to wrap both Medic and Pyro in a hug.

"It's good to see you!", Heavy exclaimed happily. "Thought you both had not survived." Pyro nodded, though Medic tilted his head.

"We survived. Where are the health kits? Or my medigun? I need one or the other.", Medic spoke and gestured to his arm. Heavy pointed his thumb behind him, past the final point and to what Medic guessed was the spawn door.

"All of our items were moved into the room with the table map, though we could not find Soldier's box. I assume an animal has stolen it, since it was the only one with real human heads in it that were not in a sealed container.", he crossed his arms as he said so. "Go patch yourself up, doktor. Is good to see you are alright.", Heavy patted Medic's head and strode back over to Engineer. Pyro gently took Medic's hand and the two walked into the spawn room together.

In an odd way, they were both kind of glad they had been stranded outside together for a night. Pyro helped Medic patch himself up, and they began to set up for a nice game on the map table; both quite content with how the past two days had gone.

#tf2 pyromedic #fluffyangst #Mysweetboys

25 notes · View notes

coeurdazure · 6 years

Text

Everyone Loves a Pretty Face

On AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12699240

Ladybug was sitting on the edge of a roof, staring wistfully across the street. This was one of her new favorite spots. Even though she couldn't see much of Paris, like she could from atop the Eiffel Tower or Sacre Coeur, or stare down along the Seine, as Notre Dame allowed, this little roof had a view of its own. A large ad was printed on the billboard across the street, and since about a week ago, it featured Adrien's flawless, smiling face, five meters tall and gazing lovingly and invitingly right at her.

So she sat there, gazing back, resting her chin in her hands with her elbows on her knees, and sighed.

He was so perfect.

Then the image on the billboard moved. Adrien's face turned straight to her, and he winked.

Ladybug's blood ran cold as she jolted up and grabbed her yoyo, not even sure where she should be aiming it.

"Don't worry," the billboard crooned. "I just wanted to say hello."

Ladybug blinked forcefully a few times and rubbed at her eyes. How tired was she?

"I may be the most handsome boy in all of Paris," billboard-Adrien bragged uncharacteristically with a hair flip, "but I'm still humbled to be admired by such a lovely lady as yourself." He flashed her a smile and one of his teeth literally sparkled.

Finally, the whole situation was ridiculous enough for Ladybug to realize what was going on.

"Renaaaa!" she called, exasperated.

The billboard laughed, but this time in Rena Rouge's voice. Ladybug hurled her yoyo at it, and the image of Adrien laughing disappeared in a puff of orange smoke, leaving the real billboard in it's place.

Behind Ladybug, a soft thud indicated that someone had jumped into the roof behind her.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked, turning to the fox.

"Necessary is such a strong word," Rena answered with a shrug. "It was funny, though. You should have seen the look on your face!"

Ladybug rolled her eyes. "Well pardon me for being a little freaked out when a billboard starts talking to me."

Rena smirked. "You should have seen the look on your face before I intervened. It almost looked like the almighty Ladybug was harboring a crush," she teased.

Ladybug turned red. "What?! No! I don't! I was just looking because, I really like that specific Gabriel perfume, and I thought the ad was... interesting."

Rena laughed, not buying it for a second. "Yeah, when I like a product, I also stare at the ad for it alone at night on a random rooftop, and sigh longingly."

"Oh, shut up," Ladybug complained.

A new voice added, "I've been trying to get her to shut up since day one."

The two of them turned and saw Queen B hovering over edge of their roof.

Rena smiled at her. "What brings you out at this hour, Queenie?"

She flew over to them and touched down softly on the roof. "Stepped out for fresh air, and saw you both on my tracker. Thought I'd come see if I was missing anything good. I certainly wasn't going to go join the other two," she answered with a disinterested shrug.

"We were just discussing Ladybug's love life," Rena explained.

"No we weren't!" Ladybug objected.

"Sounds like fun. What's the gossip?" B asked.

"There is no gossip!" Ladybug insisted, turning red in the face again.

"Ladybug's got it bad for Adrien Agreste," Rena said.

B flipped her ponytail and laughed. "Well you're barking up the wrong tree there. Adrien already has a love bug, if you know what I mean."

"What?" Ladybug asked, her face falling.

Rena muttered, "Neither ladybugs or bees are actually bugs..." but the others didn't seem to notice.

"We're super close, and basically in love," B bragged.

Carapace came around the corner, surfing in his shield. "Who's in love?" he asked, skidding to a halt and kicking the disc shield up and slinging it onto his back.

"Everyone, apparently," Rena answered, "and all with the same supermodel."

Carapace glanced across the street as Chat, who'd been chasing after him, vaulted onto the roof as well.

"What? Adrien Agreste?" Carapace asked, jerking a thumb at the billboard.

"What?" Chat asked.

"Apparently the girls were discussing how much they all love Gabriel Agreste's model son."

"What?" Chat asked again, paling and immediately looking to Ladybug, who was still red with embarrassment and trying not to be a part of the conversation.

"Not exactly," Rena corrected. "These two were about to fight each other to see who loved him more–"

"No we weren't!" Ladybug insisted.

"–but I'm keeping my hands clean of that. No offense to the pretty-boy, but he's not my type."

The blood in Chat's face was returning too forcefully now, and he was glad his mask covered so much of his cheeks.

"You'd probably like him if you met him," Carapace said. "He's a pretty cool dude."

Rena rolled her eyes. "So now you love him too! Chat, at least you'll stick with me, right? I can't be the only person on this roof not fawning over Adrien."

"Uhhh," Chat stalled, too bewildered to answer.

Carapace laughed. "I'm not fawning. I'm just saying, I've met the guy, and he's a lot more down to Earth than you'd expect a rich model kid to be."

"You're not fooling me, Donatello, I can see that tender look in your eyes," Rena teased.

Chat shot him an alarmed look, but relaxed when Carapace rolled his eyes.

"Not that it matters," B interrupted. "Like I said, Adrien is mine."

"He is?!" Chat asked in nervously high voice.

"I'm pretty sure I read in a magazine that he's single," Rena challenged.

"It's only a matter of time." B shrugged.

Rena laughed. "I knew you were full of it!" she gloated." Well if you want Adrien Agreste, you can get on line behind Ladybug and literally half of the girls I go to school with."

B turned away and crossed her arms with a 'hmph.' "You don't know anything. Whatever, fresh air over, I'm going home," she announced, and without looking back, lifted off the roof and flitted off.

Rena stared after her. "Does she really think she and Adrien are gonna be together? I can think of at least two reasons they definitely won't."

Carapace, the only of the other three not awkwardly trying to stop blushing, bit, "Alright, what are the reasons?"

Happy for the go-ahead, Rena smiled mischievously and counted on her fingers, "One, I'm pretty sure her trombo spins the other way, if you know what I mean."

Chat quirked his head, "What?"

"You know, she bats for the other team? She leans a different way?"

Chat still looked confused.

Rena slumped. "Seriously? She's always wearing lipstick? She likes comfortable shoes?"

Chat frowned. "I don't..."

Carapace put a hand on his shoulder. "Rena thinks B's a lesbian."

"Ooooooh."

"And two," Rena continued, putting up another finger, "Adrien Agreste definitely has the hots for our Lady, here, and I'm certain she likes him back.

Ladybug groaned. "Just when I was hoping the subject was dropped."

"Not a chance." Rena smirked

Chat looked at her, wide eyed and trying not to fidget with his fingers, and asked, "Do you really like him?"

Ladybug groaned. "Oh my god. This is not happening."

"Yes it is!" Rena chimed happily. "And to prove my claim, let's discuss that ballerina akuma from a couple weeks ago."

"Or we could let it go," Ladybug suggested feebly.

"So a crazy ballerina gets mad that she wasn't cast to lead," Rena continued, ignoring Ladybug. She lifted her flute, creating a cloud of orange. The ballerina in question jetéd out of it, and landed on point. "Hawkmoth swoops in and gives her dumb twirly powers." Another few notes and the ballerina is washed over with purple bubbles, leaving Pirouette scowling in her place.

"Your getting better at this," Carapace noted appreciatively, examining the recreation of the dancer.

"Thanks! So as we all remember, Ladybug and I were the only one on the scene that day." She conjured up all five of the heroes. She and Ladybug were poised for action, while Chat and Carapace were sitting on the side playing patty-cake with each other and Queen B was admiring herself in a mirror.

The real Carapace and Chat laughed at the scene, but Ladybug folded her arms across her chest, not appreciating where this was about to head.

"I valiantly jumped into the fray," Rena continued, making her image begin to battle Pirouette. "But the akuma started throwing civilians around, so we were on the defensive. That's where pretty-boy comes in."

"Do you have to call him that?" Chat objected.

"He's pretty and he's a boy. It's an apt description," Rena rationalized. "So Adrien is in the wrong place at the wrong time," she explained, conjuring an illusion of him as well. "Pirouette tosses him– very gracefully, I might add– and Ladybug catches him."

As she described the scene, it played out in front of her. The akuma grabbed Adrien by the hips as a dancer might, and threw him across the roof, right into illusion-Ladybug's arms.

Holding him princess-style, she asked, in a too-dramatic, breathy voice, "Oh, sweet darling Adrien. Are you alright? I don't know what I would do if anything happened to you!"

The real Ladybug's blush flared up again. "I did not say that!"

"Oh Ladybug," Adrien swooned. "Yes, I'm safe, thanks to you and your gorgeous blue eyes. How can I ever thank you for saving me?"

"I can think of one way," Rena's Ladybug answered. She closed her eyes and leaned down to kiss Adrien, who was craning his neck up to meet her. Until Ladybug's yoyo broke through the two of them and dissipated the whole scene into orange smoke.

Rena laughed, and let the other illusions vanish as well.

"That is not what happened," Ladybug growled.

Chat gulped forcefully. She was right, that hadn't been what happened, but he'd be lying if he didn't admit that it was scarily close to a number of dreams he'd had.

"So I'm exaggerating," Rena admitted, but you two definitely had some sort of weird moment while I stayed on top of Pirouette.

"Really?" Ladybug challenged. "Because I remember you getting Adrien's friend to safety and flirting with him shamelessly while you did."

Rena smirked. "You should remember that. That's exactly what happened. Not my fault pretty-boy's friend was too cute. What was I supposed to do? Not flirt with him? That'd be ridiculous."

"Rena," Ladybug whined, "we're supposed to be professionals!"

Rena nodded solemnly. "Right, of course. Next time I'll take a page out of your book: Flirt shamelessly anyway, but then vehemently deny it later."

Carapace asked, "Am I the only one here who doesn't flirt with civilians during fights?"

"Pretty much," Rena answered, with a apathetic shrug. Chat opened his mouth to object, but she interrupted, "Don't you dare, Chat Noir. I've seen you winking and kissing hands. You're the worst of us all!"

Chat sighed. "Yeah, I guess." He actually only did that with the people he knew in real life, but there was no way to explain that without giving anything away.

"Anyway, its late, so I'm gonna turn in before Ladybug combusts," Rena said. "I'll see you guys around."

She put her flute to her lips, and with a quick song, a circle of eight Rena Rouges popped up. They saluted in unison, and then each of them ran off in a different direction.

"She has way to much fun with her powers," Ladybug muttered.

"Don't we all," Chat said with a laugh.

Carapace pulled his shield off his back. "I think I'm gonna head home too. See you guys later.”

"See ya," they said almost in unison. Carapace threw his shield down and surfed off on it, leaving Ladybug and Chat alone.

"Just the two of us," Chat noted, sitting on the roof's edge and letting his feet dangle.

"Just like old times," Ladybug agreed, sitting next to him, and leaning her head into his shoulder.

"You know, I wouldn't blame you for crushing on Adrien. He is pretty," Chat said with a smirk.

Ladybug sat back up straight, taking her head off his shoulder, and he regretted saying anything. "Ugh," she complained. "We were having a moment, and you ruined it."

"We were having a moment?" Chat asked excitedly.

"A ruined moment," Ladybug reiterated. "I think I'm gonna head home too. I have homework to finish."

Chat frowned. "Sure. I'm gonna stay out a bit. I'll see you around."

Ladybug got up, but stalled. "Hey Chat?"

He glanced up at her. "Yeah?"

"Maybe you and I could patrol together this weekend," she suggested.

Chat raised an eyebrow. "I thought we agreed patrolling wasn't really useful."

"Well one wouldn't hurt. Just you and me. For old times' sake."

Chat beamed. "I would love nothing more, Bugaboo."

Ladybug rolled her eyes at the nickname, but laughed. He didn't usually call her that in front of the others, and she never thought she might actually miss the nickname. "Good night, Chat Noir," she said, turning to leave.

She was only a step away when he grabbed her hand. She turned around to see what he was up to.

"Goodnight, my Lady," he said. Then with many unnecessary, flourishy movements, got down on one knee and kissed her hand.

She laughed, hard, and he laughed with her, and even later when she got home, she was still giggling.

#my fic #miraculous ladybug #season 2 spoilers #ml season 2 spoilers #ml spoilers #spoilers #ladybug #chat noir #rena rouge #queen B #carapace

81 notes · View notes