#o wait until things are less fragile and the other part of me is frustrated that i have to and wants to fucking destroy everything anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik

#o wait until things are less fragile and the other part of me is frustrated that i have to and wants to fucking destroy everything anyway

triggerhappyimagines · 3 years

Note

If it's okay could I request how the dr3 boys would react to their s/o being accidentally shrunk during one of Miu's experiments or something? I thought it would be a good opportunity for lots of fluff and protectiveness hehE

this was actually very fun to write, thank you for requesting anon!! also, i apologize if some of these scenarios sound repetitive, i wrote the ones i had instant ideas for first, and then sort of left myself stuck trying to think of something for the others that didn’t sound exactly like everything else i’d already written...

also, just for fun, i decided to write a little scenario for Miu, too! i hadn’t planned on it at first, but her involvement in this particular request made me want to write for her and i couldn’t help myself,,,, this is my first time writing an imagine-type thing for her so i can only hope i did her justice aha~

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warnings: a little bit of swearing

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Shuichi Saihara

— VERY CONCERNED!!! VERY VERY CONCERNED!!!

— you’re so small!! what if you get lost?! what if someone steps on you?! what if you fall off something and die?! what if-

— you’ll have to calm him down before he gives himself an aneurysm lol

— somehow he’s more worried than you are. Miu says she’ll be able to get you back to normal in no time, so why shouldn’t you trust her? Shuichi could give you about a thousand reasons but that’s beside the point

— if it were up to him he would hold you and not let go unless he absolutely has to in order to make sure you don’t get hurt or stuck somewhere but obviously that’s unrealistic

— to an extent, it’s cute how worried he is about you, but it does get annoying from time to time

— i mean, you’re shrunk, not stupid. you know to stay away from edges of tables and other things you could fall from, not to wander off, etc.

— but as frustrating as Shuichi can be you really can’t get upset with him because dammit he’s so cute when he gets protective and you love him so so much

Rantaro Amami

— honestly he’s not super concerned at first

— he trusts you to be careful and not get yourself killed, and he trusts Miu to get you back to normal somehow, so why should he be worried?

— though he’ll still be pretty chill for the most part, he will start to be more protective of you when he starts to fully process the sheer number of tragic deaths you could succumb to in your current shrunken state

— this protectiveness takes the form of him offering you way more assistance than you need

— it’s nice that you want to help out, rantaro, but your s/o doesn’t need you to help them find something to sit on, c’mon now

— he kind of enjoys the way you literally fit right into the palm of his hands

— additionally, there’s now a very small, feral urge in the back of his mind to brush and style your hair like his sisters always used to do with their dolls

— he’ll probably never mention it, but don’t be too surprised if he all of a sudden takes a strong liking to playing with your hair once you’re back to normal

Kokichi Ouma

— did you expect him to treat this situation with the proper concern and caution it deserves? because if so i have bad news for you-

— he thinks it’s so funny how small you are

— like, so funny Miu has to physically intervene to get him to stop cracking up at your tiny form

— obviously you don’t think it’s as funny as he does

— right away he’s thinking of ways he could use your size to his advantage to mess with somebody

— at one point he decides it would be really funny to pretend he’s going to step on you which essentially translates to pretending he’s going to murder you but once you chew him out and explain to him how mean that was he actually feels really bad for upsetting you

— while he’s nowhere near as small as you are now, Kokichi is a rather petite guy, so the size difference between the two of you isn’t quite as drastic as it is between you and the taller guys

— since he’s a little less likely to accidentally smush you, he’s able to sorta cuddle you as if you were a small stuffed animal

— and btw being gently held and all snuggled up in his arms like that??? HEAVEN. LITERAL HEAVEN

Gonta Gokuhara

— if i had to choose someone who’s the least likely to accidentally get you killed while you’re shrunk, it would be Gonta

— i mean, he handles bugs that are much smaller and delicate than you are now, and if he can take such good care of them, obviously he’ll be able to take care of you no problem!

— you draw the line at him putting you in the little bug box he carries with him, though. you’re a human being, not a beetle!

— he likes to have you sit on his shoulders! they’re so broad that there’s plenty of room for you, too

— his hair is long enough for you to hang onto it to keep your balance if you need to!

— being so tiny also really puts into perspective just how gentle Gonta is

— yes, you’ve seen firsthand how he’s able to handle delicate little insects, and he’s always gentle with you, too, but being in the position of an insect in the palm of his hand, so to speak, is so much different

— you’ve never had anyone touch you with so much care, solicitude, and just pure love before and it’s honestly the most incredible feeling in the world

K1-B0

— another very concerned boy

— (s/o) is tiny???? how??? WHY??? HUH??

— at he’s pretty concerned about his knowledge of how humans work and fears he knows much less than he thought

— nobody ever told him they could shrink!!! he didn’t know humans could do that!! that’s because they can’t, kiibo, but i appreciate the concern

— once you explain what happened to him - how you were helping Miu out when her current experiment decided to malfunction and go apeshit, making you the size of a doll in the process - he’s a little less confused but also a lot more angry

— he makes sure to give Miu a thorough lecture on lab safety! he can’t have his s/o getting hurt just by being in the same room as her!!

— don’t worry, he’ll simmer down once you assure him that you’re okay!

— similar to Gonta, Kiibo is very careful with you! he knows you’re much more fragile than he is under normal circumstances, but now that you’re so little he’s even more worried about how susceptible to injury you are

— when he holds you or touches you, he does so with the utmost precision and care, as if you’re made of glass and would shatter if he laid his hands on you incorrectly

— he won’t tell you this, but he’s really looking forward to the day Miu is able to get you back to normal just so he won’t need to be so anxious about your safety anymore

— it’s hard work worrying about the person you love!!

Kaito Momota

— another one who’s probably not as phased by the situation as he should be

— but when Miu told him that she’d accidentally shrunk his s/o, he didn’t think that meant "i shrunk your s/o and don’t have a way fix it at this point in time"

— so when he realizes that now he has to help make sure you don’t, idk, die, he’s a little annoyed. not with you, though!

— i mean, technically he doesn’t *have* to help you out, but it would be a real dick move if he didn’t lol

— he lets you sit up on his shoulder, or in the pocket of his jacket!

— at first he doesn’t totally process that you’re a little more fragile than usual, so he may accidentally manhandle you from time to time

— just be sure to tell him if he’s holding you strangely, or if you’re starting to get uncomfy

— his priority is making sure you’re taken care of and he's not about to let himself of all people get in the way of that!!

Korekiyo Shinguuji

— he’s very worried about you, but he’ll try to hide it

— the last thing he wants to do is make your situation more stressful than it needs to be by fussing over you to no end

— it’s not that he doesn’t think you can take care of yourself anymore! he just doesn’t think the world is safe enough for you anymore!

— if you catch on to his anxiety and decide to question him about it, he’ll most likely go off on a tangent about how ‘humans are at the top of the food chain’ and ‘there’s a reason most predators are large and most prey is small’ and ‘in nature small creatures are naturally put in constant danger" or something

— while you may not necessarily appreciate him comparing you to a small prey animal, you know his heart is in the right place

— he just wants to protect you!!

— Kiyo has pretty large, slender hands, and you fit in his palm rather comfortably

— under normal circumstances, he’s incredibly gentle with you, and his delicacy of his touches increases tenfold now that you’re so tiny

— in a strange way, it almost feels like he handles you the same way he would handle some sort of fragile, ancient artifact that could be destroyed with just the smallest slip of the hand

— frankly, it’s a bit of an unusual sensation, albeit in a good way!! it’s nice to be touched so gently, y’know?

Ryoma Hoshi

— he’s glad to have a chance to be the tall one in the relationship... lol i’m jk... or am i?

— unlike the other guys, Ryoma doesn’t really dote on you and assume you need his help for everything, mostly because he knows firsthand what it’s like to be so much smaller than someone

— he doesn’t really like being treated like he’s helpless, or needs constant aid from taller people, so he’s mindful of the way he responds to the situation as not to end up behaving exactly like those who frustrate him to no end

— of course if you need him for anything, whether it’s helping you go from one place to another, or just wanting some love from your boyfriend, he’s always right there for you!

— however, sometimes he needs to go get someone taller than him to help you out with something, which he really Does Not Enjoy™️, so before you ask him to help you get something from up high (by your current standards, ofc) be sure to ask yourself if it really can’t wait until you’re back to normal lol

— like with Kokichi, the size difference between you and Ryoma isn’t all that drastic compared to some of the others, so he also manages to cuddle you without much issue. it’s a little awkward at first, but at least there’s no fear he might accidentally lay on top of you and squish you to death

— perks of having a boyfriend who’s 3’5", y’know?

Miu Iruma

— you’ve always enjoyed helping Miu out in her lab, and it isn’t uncommon for her to request your assistance with something, but up until now nothing has ever really... gone wrong in there, at least not majorly

— somehow, whatever shrinking device she’d been working on decided to have an absolute freak attack and target you, not the watermelon she was about to test it on, and now you’re about ten times smaller than you should be

— at least it works... right?

— she’s very apologetic and honestly feels so incredibly guilty that she could have possibly let something like this happen to you

— you’re honestly not very upset at first. she can fix it and you’ll be back to normal in no time, right? ...right?

— now is not the best time for Miu to be telling you about how she hasn’t yet developed a way to reverse the shrinking properties of her latest invention, but unfortunately she doesn’t really have another choice

— in the meantime, she takes it upon herself to whip up a few things to make your new life as a tiny person easier until she can dedicate her time to finding out how to get you back to normal

— you’re a little surprised at the sheer amount of robotic tools and gadgets provided to you that she just had laying around, as well as how quickly she’s able to throw together little devices to help you get around quicker, or reach things up high

— if there was any doubt that she was truly upset that her experimentation could have gone so wrong, it all vanishes the second she places her lips on your head (you may be small but that’s not going to stop her from kissing you!!) and says she’s never going to let herself put you in harms way ever again

— she loves you more than anything in the world, and would spend the rest of her life trying to undo the damage she caused if she had to! that’s how much you mean to her <3

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katsukikitten · 4 years

Note

Hey :) would it be possible to have a fluffy scene with Bakugo taking care of s/o reader who has bad period cramps and suffers panic attacks when they can't take the pain? (The suffering is real lol) Please and thank you 💛

Period Panic

A/N Thank you for being so patient bb. Here is your request and I hope it is fluffy enough and that you like it 😊😊

Your quirk was unique and tricky to get right at first.

You had the ability to make the smallest paper cut feel like a laceration that was bone deep.

Pain amplification is what they called it and for the most part there was no draw back to your quirk.

That was until you got your first period.

Any pain you had amplified was done unto you during those seven days while your uterus shed, angry that you would not be used as a vessel for new life.

Crippling, imobilizing pain that only heightened your anxiety.

Most men and even some women thought you were exaggerating. Brushing off your agony as mere teenage dramatics.

That was until you pushed through the horrific cramping to make it to school only to end up collapsing.

Doubled over, clutching at your gut as if your apendix had burst.

That or your uterus literally burst through your abdomen wall. At least thats what it honestly felt like.

So nothing was new this month, the usual heavy flow and cramping except this particular week your sweet boyfriend demanded he stay home.

It was something you hid from him for years, a mixture of embarrassment and fear of discredit causing you to shy away from his gruff helping hand.

He said he needed to see it all, especially if you were to ever bare his child, how would he know what to do to help you.

But sometimes you didn't even know how to help you. Sleeping most days, getting obscene amounts of overtime and using all of your PTO every month to get out of work since uterus go stabby stabby wasn't a valid enough excuse.

You're curled into his neck, breathing in his sweet caramel musk as he strokes your hair. While his free hand holds his phone watching videos with his wireless head phones.

So far so good. Your period has been mild, Bakugou has been attentive if not borderline smothering although you'll take it considering he is not normally so lovey dovey, and there hasnt been a bad cramp in sight.

Maybe you had grown out of it.

It feels as if a knife is suddenly plunged deep into your gut, before being removed to be swiftly plunged again only a few inches away.

Your bite your lip to keep in a groan, curling into him further. His hand goes from your hair to your back, bringing it up your spine slowly still beautifully ignorant to the intensity.

You needed to keep it this way. Bakugou did not take kindly to weakness and showing how pained you really were was the very definition.

The invisible knife takes a new route, plunging into your back before multiplying, twisting as it finds purchase before stabbing you between the legs.

That one makes you grunt and worry compels the hot head to move.

"Oi." He says voice husky with disuse, "Are you okay?"

You nod in way of answer as your heart rate increases, your skin becoming flush as you feel the rise of panic begin to take hold.

But nothing grips you tighter than the disembodied hands that hold fast onto your uterus, wringing it out as if it were a rag.

You push away from him quickly, between the panic and the pain you're about to empty the contains of your stomach.

You rush to the en suite bathroom in your small apartment sure to lock the door as you grip onto the cool porcielin. Inhaling the all too familiar oddly fresh smell considering the things done to this particular throne.

The scent alone earns a retch that encourages your stomach to heave and heave hard before an even more concerned ash blonde is at the door.

"Y/N." He snarls when he finds it locked.

"Go away Katsu I'll be nnngg." You cannot finish as another column of pain shoots right through you. Your breath hitches and you fight the bile rising up your throat trying hard to even your breathing.

But you lose, you flush as the last of your stomach empties itself into what was once clean porcielin.

"Like hell you were going to say okay. Open the door or I'll open it my God damn self." He growls and this is what you feared most.

Not of his aggression or his inability to take your word for it that you were fine but of him seeing you like this.

Hair damp, clinging to your forehead, cheeks flushed from panic and raise blood pressure. Splattered bile on your shirt and underwear that was now heavily bleed through from the exertion.

He would see you looking every bit repulsive and never want you again.

A loud bang takes place in the bedroom before the door falls off of its hinges landing with a harsh slap on the tile km the bathroom.

His scalding gaze turns tepid with worry when he sees you, going to gather you up but you push away.

"S...stop..." You gasp for breath with sharp inhales, spots begin to form in your peripheral as your body overheats. Useless sweat dripping down your brow.

This was it.

This was the pinnacle moment in time where Bakugou would see you for what you really were.

A fragile glass cup sitting on the edge of a high counter top.

Tears prick your eyes as you think of your uterus falling out of your fucking body with a wet thump.

And Bakugou was going to pack his shit and move out promptly.

The room spins.

He clutches onto your hand with his own strong palm, fingers lacing with yours.

"Copy me baby." He snarls, harshly contrasting his pained look. He holds your gaze as he breathes in through his nose deeply, holding it for a moment and letting the air naturally push out of his lungs through his mouth.

After a few tries you mimic him perfectly slowly regaining your thoughts.

He smooths your hair out of your face before picking you up and setting your on the cool counter.

He steps away to yank up the handle to the bath, steaming hot water pours out, filling the tub. He turns to the linen closet produces a fresh towel and two rags.

He dips one beneath the steaming water before setting the other two items on the vanity top.

"Bakugou..." You fight back tears as he wipes your mouth, folding the rag as he moved along your face. He places the dirty rag in the bowl of the sink before pulling at the hem of your shirt.

"Arms up." He hisses when you resist, you meet his gaze and obey. He pulls the dirty shirt over your head before pulling at your underwear.

"NO!" Embarrassment floods your cheeks and pain bites into your stomach again.

"Fine. I'll turn around but you better get in that bath." He sucks his teeth at the end. He listens as you finish undressing, waiting for the sounds of sloshing water as you adjust yourself.

You see now he has put Epsom salt to help ease your muscles.

Suddenly your chest is tight from a feeling other than panic, as you look at his strong back flexing as he reaches for something at the top shelf of the medicine cabinet.

He produces an orange bottle with white top that you hate. Shaking out two pills for you before wetting a rag in cold water.

"Here." He holds out his hand but you refuse the two white pills with a shake of your head, "Why not?"

"Makes me too numb." You admit and he gives you a look, slamming the pills on the counter before pressing the cold rag to your forehead.

He sits next to you on the floor, scarlet eyes roving over your body for any physical pain that he can see.

You watch it bother him that he cannot help but in these last few moments you've been more in love with him than you ever had.

"S..sorry I'm so weak." You whisper and the air becomes charged.

"When did I say you were weak? When did you need to apologize for something you cannot help?" Your cheeks burn when you realize he did not once look at you in such a way.

"Now focus we are going to do an exercise." He gets up enough to turn off the rushing water before returning to his sit by the tub.

"What do you do to amplify the pain in someone?" He asks and you think of how to word it, normally you just acted on instinct.

"I...I concentrate on their nervous system. I make their body panic and send distress to the brain."

"Can you see your own nervous system like that?" You blink at his question slowly before answering

"Yes. It's difficult but when I really close my eyes." Another sharp pain sinks into your abdomin causing you to wince.

Sharp eyes cut to your feminine pouch he loves so much, he notes that it is a little swollen and silently vows to look up diets better suited for less painful periods.

In his mind food fixed everything.

"So close your eyes." He says, sliding the cool rag over your eye lids. It some how soothes the second heartbeat there that you did not realize you had.

He begins to breathe deeply, like before and out of habit you follow suit until your nervous system stands before you.

A mess of angry nerve bundles through out your lower back and stomach constantly sending messages to your brain as your uterus contracts.

"I...I see it."

"Now do the opposite of activating the nerves. Slow them down or turn them off."

"Bakugou I can't." You go to move the rag, moments away from breaking what you can see before rough hand settles over your eyes.

Applying just the right amount of pressure as it rests there.

"I didn't ask you if you could or couldn't." He says flatly but you can imagine the harsh look in his eyes.

So you listen, you try as you focus, mentally stroking the nerves, begging them to become less hyperactive, one by one they begin to obey.

And your mind numbing pain begins to dull to a light ache.

For the first time since you were eleven you didn't feel as if you were Kane from that iconic scene in that 1980s movie.

You felt like a normal woman who had normal cramps.

You pull at his hand to make eye contact, gleaming with excitement.

"I did it!"

He just smiles in confirmation, as if he knew you could do it all along that is until your face twists and your uterus is being rung out again.

The pain comes flooding back and with it frustrated tears. A slam of a fist agaisnt tile as you let out an audible sob. Bakugou smooths back your hair before tilting your face towards his.

"I will be with you until you can ease your own pain." He kisses your lips gently before adding, "And if for whatever fucking reason you can't I will *always* be here."

He presses his forehead to yours gazing into your eyes and you had never realized how much you needed this.

Him.

That even his support was enough to ease your suffering. He stands, rewets your rag with cold water, places it gently onto your forehead as he returns to normal rough self.

"Now soak in this bath and don't fucking move while I make dinner." He plays soothing music on your phone before slamming the door to the bedroom shut.

Hastily opening google onto his own phone as he makes his way to the kitchen to prepare you a meal plan that will help strengthen the nervous system and dispel inflammation.

Thinking only of how he will always support you, even if it meant putting everything on hold once a month for the rest of his life.

#bnha ask #bnha ask prompt #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha prompt #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #bnha katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha kacchan

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

The Dentist (pt13)

Arrgh, another 1500 words and still no answers. Slippery eels, I tell you. Next part, definitely the next part ::glares at the characters::

Well, we’ve just passed the 10,000 word mark. So much for the tiny fic ::headdesk:: I’m fighting to finish this, I promise! Thank you for all your wonderful support ::hugs you all madly::

From here.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was edgy for the rest of the day, watching his brothers at first wander to and fro from the infirmary, then, once he had escaped that horrible room, watch them moon about the house. They eyed him as if he was explosive or fragile or worse.

The tableau was broken midafternoon when Eos called Scott out to rescue a crane driver from a collapsing highrise. The annoying thing was that it was more a job for Virgil and Two than Scott and One, but his brother took it anyway, the blue glare pinning Virgil to the sofa cushions.

After that there was one less brother mooning about the house avoiding Virgil.

At one point he approached John who, oddly, had yet to announce his return to Five, and attempted to get some answers out of him.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Virgil’s eyes widened at the sad expression on his younger brother’s face. “You’ll need to wait for Scott on this one, Virgil.”

“What is going on? You all look as if someone has died.” His eyes widened at John’s subtle flinch. “What aren’t you telling me?!”

John’s other hand landed on Virgil’s other shoulder and his space brother looked down at him, his expression ever so honest and sincere. “No one has died, Virgil. We just found out that someone we know and love has been hurt.”

“Who?!” Faces raced through his mind.

“Virgil, please wait for Scott.”

“Why?”

“Just...trust us.”

Virgil bit back the expletive as John squeezed his shoulders. What the hell was going on?

“John...”

“Wait for Scott.”

Wait for Scott. He grit his teeth to hold back his response.

He hid in his room for an hour, then fell asleep.

He awoke to find Alan perched on the end of his bed playing a computer game. “Alan.”

“Hey, Virgil. Hold a sec, I just gotta...” The game console let off a series of squawks and Alan swore. “So close!”

Virgil stared at him a moment, but when Alan’s attention didn’t return to him, he pushed off the covers and climbed out of bed. A trip to the bathroom and he encountered himself in the mirror.

The swelling was finally going down. He could see straight. His right eye was still bloodshot and the skin around it a rainbow of colours, but he could see. His mouth still hurt like crazy, but there had been no brothers sporting medication to alleviate the irritation which was odd in itself.

What were they waiting for?

He frowned and regretted it as it set off a throb in his eye that threatened to progress into a headache.

“Virgil, you okay in there?”

So Alan was hovering. No doubt still feeling guilty and worried about him. “Alan, I’m fine.” And honestly he was. Achy, yes, but his head was finally clear from the medication fog, his balance was fine, he could even speak okay.

He washed his face gently and patted it dry before returning to his room.

Alan’s eyes were on him the moment he walked in.

“I’m fine, Alan, I promise.”

Alan guiltily returned to his console. “Sorry, just making sure.”

A sigh and Virgil sat down beside him. “What is it? Is it this thing you guys refuse to talk to me about?”

Alan dropped his arms into his lap, fingering his game console. “It sucks.”

Perhaps it did, if Virgil knew what they were talking about. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Can’t. Not until you’re better.”

“I am better.”

“I-“ Alan cut himself off and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I...” Blue eyes caught his and widened, staring. Tears welled suddenly and anger flashed. Alan bit his lip hard and spat out a string of profanity of the likes he had never heard from his little brother.

“Alan!”

“He is so lucky he’s dead.” A blink and Alan appeared to realise what he had said. “I...I’m sorry, Virg, I’m...aw, hell.” And his little brother was up and out the door before Virgil could grab him.

What?!

Virgil pushed himself off the bed and out the door, but Alan was gone.

What the hell was going on?!

As if to answer his question, the distant roar of rocket engines became immediate and the building echoed through its soundproofing as Thunderbird One lowered herself into her bay below the pool. Virgil couldn’t see her, but he knew the process like his own breathing. He made his way through the house and down to the comms room, knowing that would be where his brother would gravitate.

He found Gordon sitting at their father’s desk in his hoverchair. His father’s chair had been spun off to one side. Whatever he was doing, he was very focussed. Virgil was able to make his way around the lounge and step up to the desk. Gordon was staring at a document floating above the desktop and poking it with a stylus.

“Hey, Gordon.”

His brother physically jumped and the stylus went flying. The document disappeared as Gordon hurriedly swiped it away. “Oh, hey, Virg. You’re awake.”

If that wasn’t a guilty look then Virgil knew nothing about his brother. “Yes, Gordon, I’m awake. And before you ask, yes, I’m feeling better, thank you.” He eyed the aquanaut as he struggled to compose himself. “A better question might be, are you okay?”

Gordon looked away and Virgil found himself reaching out, his hand landing on his brother’s shoulders. “What is it?”

Bloodshot russet-brown eyes looked up at him. “Have you ever questioned Dad’s belief that everyone is worth saving?”

Okay, random. “Uh, no, why?”

Gordon looked down at the desk again. “Because he is wrong. There are people on this planet who do things that cancel out that right.”

Virgil swallowed. “It is not our place to judge who is worth saving, Gordon.”

“I know. It’s just...” He looked up again. “Some people are just assholes who don’t deserve the privilege of life.”

Virgil grabbed their father’s chair and sat down beside his brother. There were many things he could say. He could argue, make a point, but the despair in Gordon’s eyes was just painful. “Will you tell me what is going on?”

Gordon’s eyes widened before looking down at his lap. “We need to wait for Scott.”

Wait for Scott. “Why?” It came out frustrated.

“Because you’ll need him.”

The words sucked all the heat out of the room and his bones chilled. “Why?”

“Gordon!” Scott entered the room, still dressed in his uniform, the sleeve torn and bloodied.

Virgil shot to his feet and hurried over. “Scott, what the hell. Why didn’t you report an injury?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing-“

“Gordon, grab a first aid kit, and then find John. Why didn’t John pick up on this?”

Scott slapped his fingers away. “Because it is nothing, that’s why. Uniform got caught on a piece of metal as I fell and it tore. Scratched me up a little. The better question would be how are you?”

“You fell?! How far? Do you have any other injuries?” He stepped back a little and tracked his eyes over his brother. Nothing appeared out of order bar a few scuffs on his scuff pads.

“Virgil, for crying out loud. I fell, yes, but I caught myself with my grapple gun, I am fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Now sit down and let me have a look.”

“Virgil-“

“I said sit down.” Calm, direct and as commanding as any Tracy brother.

The first aid kit appeared at Virgil’s elbow. He dug out the laser scalpel and began removing Scott’s sleeve as Gordon called over comms to summon John.

His brother sighed and surrendered.

Once the sleeve had been removed, it appeared that yes, he was overreacting just a little, but he didn’t care. Virgil preferred it that way. With a glare at his brother who by this time was smirking at him, he swabbed the wound clean and tapped it up with a couple of butterfly bandages. A protective dressing and he was satisfied that Scott wasn’t about to bleed to death on him.

“Happy now?” The pilot actually had the nerve to smirk at him.

“As happy as I can be when a brother has a hole in him, I guess.” He squeezed a uniform clad forearm absently as he began to tidy up the mess he had made.

“Virg, do you forgive me?” It was whispered, barely breath, but Virgil heard it. He looked up into pleading blue eyes.

A swallow. “Of course.” But he looked away, still processing the implications.

“Can you at least understand why I did it?”

A slow nod as he closed the lid of the first aid kit.

Scott grabbed his upper arm and squeezed. “Virgil-“

“I trust you, Scott.” But he wasn’t willing to talk about it just yet. “Get yourself cleaned up and meet me back here.” He caught those blue eyes again. “We have to talk.”

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #alan tracy

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kapiche · 4 years

Text

Wide Eyes (ch. 1)

summary: the boys are in high school and life in south park has never been more mundane, until cartman begins to realize why kyle has been the pinnacle of his antagonistic behavior all these years

words: 2,173

read on ao3

Kyle stood stiff beneath the lifeless flickering of a street lamp, right up a road he had no clue the name of. The blocks of this town had become a memory singed into his brain at this point, and he didn’t need the names of the roads and streets. Each block may as well have been tattooed on the back of his hands, arms, and all.

He was right outside of the town’s local diner, watching the sun hang low over the mountains. Winter days made for shorter days, but it wasn’t stopping that last bit of 5 o clock sun from peeking through the clouds to kiss Kyle’s cheek with warmth. The air was so cold, but the sun was pleasant nonetheless.

Stan stood next to him, taking occasional drags of a cigarette out of a pack of Newports he had a “recently-graduated-buddy” purchase for him.

“It’s.. fucking fre-ezing out here,” Stan forced out, arms folded in an attempt to combat the wind’s chill. “God.”

“Stop smoking those damn things, and maybe it wouldn’t be such hell for you to have to be outdoors in the winter.” Kyle said, as if he hadn’t said it a million times before. Time and time again, Stan absolutely never heeded Kyle’s advice when it came to drug use. Stan’s past responses were clear in Kyle’s head:

“It’s cool if you just experiment, dude. Like, not do it a lot but… just once. Wouldn’t you try something new at least once?”

Kyle couldn’t make sense of that. Stan continued to smoke cigarettes after his first one last year, defeating the purpose of it being a one-time experience at all. To no one’s surprise, Stan’s drinking problem hadn’t gotten any better either over the past few years. Kyle knew it had to have been common sense to everyone at this point — if it feels good and it’s bad for you, do it once and you’re hooked. Yet, not everyone’s psychological cogs and gears turned the way Kyle’s did. He was well aware, but that wasn’t going to stop him from calling Stan a crackhead every opportunity he got.

“They’re bad for the environment too.” Kyle sighed quickly, plucking up a quite dated cigarette smoked by God-knows-who from the crunchy grass. He stuffed it into the cigarette receptacle, glad he was wearing his gloves.

“So is the carbon footprint our houses are leaving.” Stan said half-heartedly, flicking ash onto the fine line separating the grass from the sidewalk’s asphalt.

Kyle nodded, avoiding verbal agreement so he could hold his breath while an exhaled smoke cloud drifted by his nose.

“I’m almost done,” Stan reassured, “I can barely stand this cold much longer anyways.”

The sun had freshly sank beneath the mountains now, and the warmth had left Kyle’s face.

“I just worry about you, Stan.”

“And worrying’s just your thing, dude.” Stan smiled. He’d reached the final few puffs of his cigarette.

“Maybe it is okay to take a risk and try something once every now and then, but you do have an addictive personality. That ‘one time’ is just you knocking down a bunch of dominoes.” Kyle said. Something eerily reminded him that he had had this conversation once before.

Stan shoved what was left of his cigarette into the receptacle. “So I didn’t literally knock over each domino, though.”

Kyle watched him. That couldn’t have been Stan’s entire response. Stan returned Kyle’s gaze with a smile.

“Wouldn’t you say things just have their own, unique turn of events sometimes? Like, one thing leads to another and all that?”

“Stan, you know you have control over —“

“I have control. And I know that a cigarette is good as hell on a cold day.” Stan interrupted, much to Kyle’s frustration.

Stan let his hands retreat to his pockets for warmth. “All I’m saying, Kyle, is that maybe it’s not an addictive personality. Maybe I just enjoy it.”

Kyle let him talk. They had been out here for quite a while now, the sky was turning purple and Cartman and Kenny were waiting inside the restaurant for the two of them to return from their little smoke break.

“Your guilty pleasures are there, Kyle, I’m sure.” Stan continued, “You should just go with it. Your morals are like, impenetrable or something, but it can’t be healthy to be a saint all the time. Life’s short, y’know…”

“Shorter when you smoke.” Kyle interjected, smiling as he nudged Stan toward the front doors of the restaurant. They audibly relished in the warmth that hit them once they reentered.

—

“What’d you do out there — suck each other’s dicks or something?” Cartman was sure to quickly swallow his water in order to make his timely jab.

Much to Cartman’s dismay, his jab rolled off of Kyle like raindrops on a windshield. Stan and Kyle took their seats next to each other, across the booth from Kenny, who was beside you-know-who.

“Stan had to smoke.” Kyle said, a hint of a condescending attitude; It was indistinguishable if it was caused by Stan or Cartman specifically. No one could have guessed anymore, it truly didn’t take much for Kyle to have an attitude these days.

“You smoke too? I saw you with a little Marlboro pack in your pocket.” It seemed to be clear the reaction Cartman wanted to elicit, knowing very well how Kyle felt about smoking.

Raindrops rolled off again. It went in one of Kyle’s ears and out the other, and all he said was an expected “No, thank you.” when the waitress timely asked if their table needed anything else.

This wasn’t out of the ordinary whatsoever, and had become quite a mundane part of Cartman’s life. Kyle’s reactions, his shrill responses and the way his face flushed — it brought some sort of clarity to Cartman, a comfort almost. It was like rain.

Rain that came down hard; Rain that was aggressive, unforgiving, destructive, and brought thunder that kept you up at night. Rain that brought wind and hurricanes and tornadoes and rain that was loud and made you tremble — rain that made you wonder if you’d be around at all to see a tomorrow.

But that rain leaves. It always leaves, and the same rain returns — just as soon as you cursed the hurt and suffering it brought upon you — it returns with a calm. Gentle, almost loving taps at your skin and nose, a sweet scent of a fresh rain that brings life instead of destruction. Rain that made you happy to be alive.

Yeah, Kyle was like rain.

“Hey, fatass. Let’s go.”

Cartman peered up to see Stan and Kenny making their way out of the diner, Kyle gazing down at him. Cartman scooted out and up from his seat.

Kyle took off his hat and pulled his coat’s hood over his head.

“It’s raining.”

They ushered their way outside. It was dark now.

“Shouldn’t it be snowing or something?” Stan said. None of the boys had driven out to the diner since it was a decent distance from their homes, but it didn’t make sprinting in the cold ass rain any more enjoyable.

“It’s literally sleet.” Kenny said, one of the first few times he had spoken tonight. He was ahead of the rest of them, knowing his house was a bit further away.

“It sucks.” Stan shouted across the loud pitter-patter of icy rain. They couldn’t have cared less what was spilling out of the sky, they just wanted to get the hell inside. The four of them maneuvered block after block and crossed street after street and — Jesus, weren’t their houses closer to the diner than this?

They turned a corner, and Kyle, with his arms clutching his hood, nearly fell flat on his side; —“Fuck!” — His boots were getting far too slick to be on the wet sidewalk. He finessed, and caught himself on two feet successfully.

Cartman observed. What an opportunity that could’ve been.

As Kyle let the anxiety of a near-fall dissipate, he shot Cartman a millisecond-long glance as he resumed his hasty walk with a bit more caution. Cartman knew Kyle was waiting for the breath of a bitchy sentence, a remark just to piss him off.

Ahead now, Kyle’s cheeks were warm despite the blistering chill of the freezing rain. Nobody likes falling, and Kyle didn’t like feeling vulnerable. Everyone knows that.

Cartman still delivered.

“Why were you going so fast? It’s not like Kenny stole all of your money, jew.”

Cartman heard Kyle huff. For the many things Cartman said, Kyle had built up a manageable tolerance. He learned letting things get to him would only make his life worse, and learned to cool his temper at least a little. There were some things he just couldn’t control his reactions to, though, and antisemitism struck a nerve. He was already fragile from almost falling. Cartman was aware.

“Can you fucking let me live for once?” Kyle continued to walk, not bothering to turn his neck to face Cartman, who was hastily walking behind him.

“Ok and? Why’d you slow down? I thought Kenny had all your money.” Cartman said through a smile. He knew what set Kyle off, and saved his best remarks for moments like these — moments when he knew Kyle felt the least bit vulnerable. The louder the thunder, the better.

“Where is this even coming from, I—“

“You basically fell and busted your ass!” Cartman interrupted.

“Oh yeah?” Kyle could feel a familiar hot anger awakening in the pit of his stomach. “God forbid you had fucking slipped, South Park has never had a magnitude 8 earthquake before.”

“Please.” Cartman laughed, but inside — something stirred. It was a familiar feeling, too. Something about the way Kyle’s anger fueled him.

They had finally arrived at their homes. Kenny was long gone, and Stan sped off as well. Stan knew a goodbye wasn’t necessary when the two of them got like this. Kyle tried to fight it, but inevitably caved in to his own emotions nonetheless.

“I’m going inside. I’m wet and I’m cold and I can’t handle your bullshit right now. I can’t.” Kyle huffed again, attempting to stomp to his front door but daintily maneuvering around deep puddles instead. He was soaked enough.

“See you at schoool!” Cartman teasingly, longingly cooed at Kyle as his front door shut. He was hoping Kyle would have stayed and bickered with him for a little while longer, but it was coming a mixed downpour. He watched Kyle’s front door for a while, then quickly raced two houses down the street to his own.

Cold rainwater was dripping from Kyle when he made his way upstairs. He immediately peeled off his soggy clothes, stepping into the shower. He didn’t bother to wait outside of it for the water to heat itself. He was irritated, and the shower’s water was a little warmer than the sleet outside anyway.

It didn’t take long for the water to ease into a calming, warm cascade down Kyle’s bare skin. He shuddered at such a pleasant temperature change, his toes curling against the padding of his shower floor and a small smile forming across his face. It loosened his muscles in the nicest way, his lips parting open while his head absentmindedly tilted back. It was so soothing, he had almost forgotten about the small argument he and Cartman had on the way home.

That son of a bitch. His muscles clenched suddenly. He muttered obscenities to himself and rubbed his eyes. Did every day really have to go this way? He was dangerously close to being too fed up with Cartman’s antics, Cartman’s words, Cartman’s instinct to comment on his every move, Cartman’s hatred-fueled motives, Cartman’s attitude, Cartman’s stupid voice, Cartman’s stupid face, the way stupid Cartman made him feel —

The shower started feeling more and more like a foggy hot mess that Kyle was suffocating in. He had to get out.

He had dried off and made his way to his bed, loosely clad in a t-shirt and the first pair of boxers he could find. Distant yellow street light filtered into Kyle’s room and onto his ceiling, and despite the fact that he was lying on his belly, he couldn’t help but to stare up at it.

I hate him, he thought to himself. Cartman had evidently not left his mind since his uncomfortable shower.

So much…

He watched the shadows of raindrops dance and race on his ceiling, body sore from carrying the heaviness of wet clothes on his figure. His eyes had begun to force themselves shut.

“I… I hate…”

His fingers loosely gripped his sheets as he drifted off. He furrowed his brows, millions of dim thoughts and questions checking in and out of his head while his body slowly submitted to a decent rest.

Kyle had fallen asleep to the sound of the icy rain, while Cartman lay awake in his own home, admiring it.

#thought i would post chapters here as well!#kyman #kyman fanfic #fanfiction #kyman fanfiction #fanfic #eric cartman #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #clyde donovan #tweek tweak #craig tucker #south park token #token black #south park kyle #nothing is italicized here so i suggest reading on ao3

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misakishishido · 6 years

Text

Untitled JuriSaku OS (11/7/2018)

How many times has it been? Miyawaki Sakura thought to herself whenever she’s here-- in a certain hospital, where 48G members would usually be sent whenever they have issues with their health. The main reason she’d be here would normally be to visit Kodama Haruka a.k.a. Haruppi, the supposed Ace of HKT48, her so-called counterpart in said group and most importantly, a person she could earnestly call “a friend”. A title that she would not normally hand out unless she “deems” the title worthy onto a person. Of course, Haruppi has been clear to be in and out of the hospital and as such, Sakura’s visits to the hospital has been less frequent. Since then has met her fellow friend at her home as Haruppi still needed more rest and rehabilitation for her health to be at its 100% to return to her activities in the group. Sakura respected that decision, albeit she did feel slightly lonely and longed for the return of Haruppi by her side, to lead HKT48 as it should be. Her thoughts on Haruppi were put on hold when she had arrived at her destination. A nurse had just exited the room, bowing courteously to Sakura with the latter doing the same immediately before she walked away. Sakura froze in position, looking at the nameplate of the hospital room she was about to enter. “Matsui”. “Jurina” was written in a smaller writing besides her family name and Sakura gulped. She honestly didn't know what made her come here. She wasn't egged on by her manager to pay this senior of hers a visit, nor did Sasshi make a fuss that she should. Heck, she shouldn't have anything to do with her is what she thought. But something in the depths of her conscience, her heart, said that she should visit Jurina, whether she wanted to or not. Thus why she is here today. It's probably because deep down, she wanted closure. There had been way too much drama going on between the de facto leaders spearheading the 48G and eventhough she personally felt like avoiding the conflict in case another may arise, her heart wouldn't allow it. She gulped, shakily pulling onto the door and slowly walked into the room. All she could hear in the room were the sounds of the air conditioning and beeping sounds of medical equipments. As she approached the bed of said patient, she clenched her fists as her heart started to thump in anxiety. What would she say if Jurina was awake? What would she do when she sees Jurina, in whatever state she is in?? Would she just call it quits and run away??? Enough thinking. Just get it over and done with. Sakura let out a deep sigh as she drew the curtains, revealing her senior in a peaceful sleeping state. As expected. Even when she has her eyes closed you can see her happy facial expression. She wasn't known as a ball of sunshine for no reason. Sakura's eyes continued to scan her senior. She definitely seemed as weak as everyone feared her condition to be. She was on drip and it does not seem like Jurina would wake up any time soon, at least not when she's there. The younger of the two slowly walked over to the visitor’s stool placed next to the bed and sat down softly. She cursed herself in her head for not bringing anything with her to give Jurina due to this being extremely impromptu but she continued to stare at Jurina’s fragile state, heart aching at the sight. She definitely felt like she was suffocating. It felt like yesterday when Jurina and Sakura were asked to be the 48th single’s WCenters, with Jurina congratulating her and saying “let's do our best!” with the brightest smile she could show Sakura. Sakura, on the other hand, was more on the awkward side and rarely gave the same friendly response to Jurina unless she was put in the spotlight in the media or such. She recalls every single time they had to perform “Negaigoto no Mochigusare” together that Jurina would do the same thing, as if it was a natural habit. Jurina would purposely seek out Sakura before they go on stage, and encourage her with a smile before running off to go on standby without even needing a response from the latter. “You’ll be fine today! Let's have fun performing.” She said the exact same phrase each time, to the point Sakura thought that Jurina was on autopilot out of courtesy and just so she could get “brownie points” from anyone who actually noticed this simple act. However, now that Sakura has thought a little more carefully, Jurina did more than just that. She boosted Sakura’s confidence each time they had to go on stage together. Sakura never did the same, or more like, she couldn't, due to usually being either awkward or just not as spontaneous as Jurina was. Selfless. That was what Jurina was. Her senior wanted what was best for the people around her more than caring about herself. Sakura knew Jurina definitely needed the emotional support more than anyone else but Jurina decided to do the opposite-- by giving members who needed it first, not receiving it. Tears started to unconsciously roll down from Sakura’s doe-like eyes and she started to feel extremely frustrated at herself. All the drama, all the misunderstandings… everything could have been prevented if she had talked more to Jurina. “... Sa… ku… ra… tan…?” Sakura was startled by a weak voice that called out to her. She looked up slowly, only to see Jurina's eyes squinting at her, as if she was trying to keep her eyes open to look at Sakura. The junior felt even more emotional at the sight of her senior currently, but quickly wiped away her tears. Jurina was definitely not supposed to be awake, that was what she thought when she entered and saw her. This was way too unexpected and now she doesn't know how to deal with it. “... I’m… sorry……” Jurina said weakly as she slowly shut her eyes, letting out a sigh, before quickly falling back to sleep. Again. It happened again. Sakura couldn't respond at all. “... Why are you apologising… I… I should be the one who should be…” Sakura said between sobs, slowly reaching out to Jurina's hand closest to her and wrapping them in her own pair. “... I have so much I want to say to you… I have so much to thank you for… I…” Sakura tightened her hold on Jurina’s hand until she suddenly realised the fragility of Jurina’s hand and quickly let go. She shook her head vigorously in a brief panic that overcame her and shot up from her seat, breathing in and out shakily. Her eyes darted elsewhere from Jurina’s vulnerable body and she saw a clipboard with papers attached, along with a pen on it. She knew she shouldn't be nosy but she approached it and took a closer look at it. The first piece of paper had random scribbles and doodles which did not make much sense to her but it seemed like stickmen doing dances, with “Ikinari Punch Line” written at the bottom lightly. She flipped to the next page and there were more scribbles that weren't very readable as they were written lightly. She could only presume that these were written by Jurina herself. She continued looking through the clipboard and the writings and scribbles slowly got more and more readable and cohesive. They were probably written when Jurina was still in a more better condition than she is now. Her attention stopped at one piece quite a few pieces later and unclipped the stack before it to read it more properly. On it, the words “Tell Sakura” were pretty clear at the top. There was a personal note to Jurina herself right below it: “Don't make it sound rehearsed. You will make everything worse if you do. If you mean it, say everything from the bottom of your heart! >o< Also, don't overload her with your ‘speech” OKAY?” Sakura was confused. Just what was this? She continued reading on: “Hey Sakura. This may sound slightly awkward but I really want to apologise again for the whole Sousenkyou incident. I know I must have hurt your feelings and I should have known full well that you're as stressed out as I am.

We both have our responsibilities to fulfill in our own individual groups and our own dreams to pursue. But well, it'd be nice if the both of us can move past our… “issues”... against each other and work together for the sake of the group. It'd be nice if we could set a good example for our juniors… is it too selfish of me to ask? ^^;

I hope I'm not too pushy… I'm trying my best not to be! Really! I want to hear Sakura-tan’s thoughts and opinions as well! Please don't hesitate to stop me if I go too ahead of myself… it's weird telling you this but I’ve always had Rena-chan or Masanyan who would tell me off when I go overboard. Now that I'm the only senior, as much as I've lost my “limiters”, I realise I definitely need someone to look out for me. I've got Akarin for most parts but it'd be nice if we both could look out for each other...

I mean, we're in Produce48 together too! I really hope we can get more acquainted with each other through the programme and fight for our group so that everyone will know how amazing the 48G is. Of course, I'll take good care of myself so that everything will go smoothly. I hope Sakura-tan will take good care of yourself too. Let's do our best together okay?”

Sakura couldn't help but smile wryly at what she had just read as she returned everything to how it was positioned. She was well aware that Matsui Jurina was a rather stoic person despite her ever-cheerful outlook, since she had to literally prepare a “script” to confront Sakura, but it also showed how awkward she was in her own way as well. ‘An awkward sun’. She sees how that song from SKE48 somewhat relates to Jurina after hearing about it from members and comments online. Sakura was now resolved to make things right, once Jurina got better. With newfound courage that surged within her, she turned to Jurina and gently caressed her head, forcing a smile as her eyes continued to form tears within them. “... I'm waiting for your return Jurina-san… when that happens, I can be honest with you… and tell you a lot of things I've been wanting to say to you. Rest well…” Sakura left the room after she made a brief bow to Jurina. Little did she know however, Jurina's lips had formed a weak smile, and a tear rolled down from the left side of her eye, as if she had actually heard the yearning and resolve of her precious ‘rival’.

#matsui jurina #miyawaki sakura #jurisaku #ske48 #hkt48 #produce48 #oneshot #fanfic

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words-writ-in-starlight · 7 years

Text

For @littlestartopaz : Steve catches Wanda sulking and invites her to Disney Night with Nat and Clint. Wanda teases him, and Vision ends up there too. Better yet, not MCU so we can also have her brother. Or just ignore that part of the MCU.

GOOD. Also, Quicksilver is alive and healthy after a while in a healing coma, as speedsters do. I read a wild AU once where he was shot and died, and the comments were full of complaints about how it didn’t make sense. I am RIGHT THIS MOMENT deciding that this fic and this and this and possibly some others with small tweaks exist in the same universe as this one (I do not have a timeline to speak of) and also I’m disregarding that same wild AU’s belief that Clint lives? On a farm? Rather than a shitty apartment building in NYC and the Tower/Mansion? And that Nat and Clint are not soulmates on a level that makes romance look downright petty, kay-thanks-bye. AND also I’m so glad we all remember how Wanda and Pietro were kids who were pressganged and conned into service of HYDRA rather than being voluntary recruits.

It wasn’t like Wanda had expected her relationship with Pietro to be all roses after he came out of his coma, but her worry had also done a spectacular job of blurring out some of his less desirable qualities as a brother. Like, just for example, his overwhelming, pointless, overprotective bullshit. She muttered a bitter Sokovian curse under her breath and stripped off her jacket, dropping it on the bed without a care for the soot that would certainly stain her sheets. The rest of her uniform was given the same careless treatment, abandoned on the floor as she yanked on a pair of leggings and a soft shirt two sizes too big.

She wasn’t even sure who she was more frustrated with—Pietro, for yanking her out of the way of a spider ‘bot that she could have taken care of, or herself, for losing focus for long enough to let him take the hit for her. Someday, he was going to suddenly realize that his fragile twin sister had gone and turned into an adult while he was busy fending off the world. She hoped it was sooner rather than later, or she might have to beat it into him. Assuming he even lived that long, which was beginning to look increasingly unlikely.

“Stupid nervous bastard,” she muttered in English, and flopped down on her bed, flat on her back with her fingers laced over her face. “Martyr.”

“Hazard of the profession,” Steve’s voice said, amused. Wanda turned her head, untangling her fingers to look toward the door, where Steve was leaning against her doorjamb. He was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, standard fare for any of them after showering upon returning from a mission. His hair was a rumpled mess and he had a nasty purple and blue bruise marbling over one cheek, where Bruce had diagnosed a cracked zygomatic. In combination with the blood that had been leaking from a split in his lip, Natasha had cheerfully commented that he was looking very patriotic indeed.

“Put ice on your face,” she said, frowning at him across the landscape of her comforter. Steve grinned at her, and winced, raising the cold pack in his hand back to his cheek.

“Like I said,” Steve said. His voice was muffled, but his eyes were bright and wild with adrenaline, like blue fire. “We’re all fucking martyrs, or so I’m told. Your brother just wants to keep you safe.”

“Well, I just spent months at his bedside because he took eight bullets to the chest and severed his spine,” Wanda said, sitting up sharply. “So he can get over it.”

“Easy,” Steve said, holding out his free hand in a gesture of peace. “I’m not saying whether he’s right or wrong, just that he’s got his reasons. You’re a grown dame, if you want him to cut it out you can tell him.”

Wanda pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands, rubbing at a spot of grease she’d picked up while she was blowing up a ‘bot. It just seemed to get more deeply ingrained into her skin. “I just. He’s protected me our whole lives. I want to be able to protect him sometimes.” She glanced up, and Steve was nodding, ambling over to move her jacket out of the way and sit down beside her. Some of the anger was beginning to burn itself out, but the feeling of failure it left in its wake was worse—much worse. “I should be able to protect him,” she almost snarled, slamming an open palm down onto the bed, and Steve gave her a half-smile, rueful.

“Yeah, that doesn’t go away,” Steve said, all dry, dark humor, and Wanda hummed agreement, then sighed, leaning into his shoulder. There was a moment where the only sound was the quiet crackle of the cold pack as Steve adjusted it against his cheek. “Hey, Wanda,” Steve said at last, “you wanna watch a Disney movie? Take your mind off things?”

Wanda laughed a little at that, startled. “The Captain himself watches children’s movies after missions? What would the world think if they knew?”

“It was Nat and Clint who started it, actually,” Steve said, standing, and offered her his hand. Wanda didn’t move, blinking up at him in shock. “Don’t believe me?” he asked, clearly entertained by whatever her face was doing.

“I believe Clint—Natasha?”

“Yeah, she thinks kids’ movies are good for the soul. Something about Clint watching a lot of them while the two of them were waiting for her to get over the Red Room’s influence. Are you coming or not?”

“All right,” Wanda said, bemused, and took the offered hand, letting Steve haul her bodily to her feet. “Is anyone else coming?”

Steve grinned with the half of his mouth that he could move freely and dropped her a wink. “Our secret. Well,” he revised, “Vision probably knows. He’s got the databanks from the Tower’s theater room.” He smirked as he gestured her out the door. “If you wanted to invite him--”

Wanda made a strangled noise and hit Steve with the back of her hand. “Steven!”

“What?” he asked, all innocent blue eyes, and she scowled at him. Whoever had suggested that Captain America was a pure and naïve soul, entirely unaware of the concept of mockery, had obviously never met the man. Natasha had once confided to Wanda that Steve had convinced them all he was scandalized by the mere thought of a woman swearing, and had fleeced almost a hundred dollars off Tony by way of a Swear Jar before the man figured out he was being conned.

It was all very funny until Steve was needling her.

“Leave Vision alone,” Wanda huffed, lost for a better response.

“I haven’t done anything to him.”

“He is still figuring things out.”

“Aren’t we all,” Steve said, perfectly neutral.

“He does not think of me like that. I don’t know if he even can.”

“Sounds like someone should ask him.”

This time the sound that choked on Wanda’s tongue sounded almost like an angry cat, and she smacked Steve again, harder. “Shh!” she half-hissed. “Don’t you dare!”

Steve was laughing when he raised his free hand in surrender. “I won’t,” he said, sincere. “But really, if you wanted to invite him, I’m sure Nat and Clint wouldn’t mind. They put up with my commentary the whole time already.”

“Maybe another time,” Wanda said, walking quickly to keep pace with Steve as he took a flight of stairs at his usual quick pace. “What are we watching?”

“I think the plan was Atlantis, but if you have a favorite we could watch that instead.”

Wanda shrugged, pushing through the door at the top of the stairs to Natasha and Clint’s floor. “I have never seen one.”

She didn’t notice Steve had stopped until his hand closed on the back of her shirt and brought her up to an abrupt halt. He’d removed the ice from his cheek, as if he was too distracted to hold it in place. “Seriously?”

“Our mother showed us Snow White once?” she said, looking up at him. She didn’t often feel particularly short—five foot six put her at a perfectly respectable height, and a full inch taller than Natasha—but Steve was an even six, and built like a fridge. She would have dared anyone not to feel small standing beside him in their bare feet and most casual clothing. “But that was years ago. We got…busy.”

“Wanda,” Steve said solemnly, dropping her shirt and resting his hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to watch Bambi.”

“That is…specific.”

Steve took a deep breath, and said, in a tone approaching religious fervor, “Tyrus Wong was the finest animator of his time, and the art he assembled for Bambi is beyond unique and--”

“—represents a level of expression all animation should aspire to,” Natasha chorused, appearing in the hallway as she toweled her hair off, red curls sticking damply to her skin. “Hi, Wanda. Are we watching Bambi?”

“I have never seen it,” Wanda said.

“Steve has some thoughts on it.”

“We should all hope to be half as skilled,” Steve said, entirely unashamed. “The fact that Wong wasn’t appreciated as a genius at the time was--”

“Reprehensible and an indicator of systemic intolerance. Come on,” Natasha told Wanda. “We can get set up. He’ll go on as long as you keep making affirmative noises whenever he pauses to take a breath.”

“Are we showing Wanda Disney? Tasha, you should dance the Firebird for her,” Clint said, balancing two monstrous bowls of popcorn on one arm as he pulled the door to the small kitchen closed behind him. Natasha shot him an exasperated look that he ignored blithely. “Wanda, make sure you ask Tasha to dance the Firebird when we watch Fantasia next.”

“Okay?” Wanda asked, bemused.

“Stop harassing her,” Natasha said, catching Wanda by the elbow with one calloused hand and tugging her down the hall. “Steve, put that ice back on your face. What do you have to say about the animals in Bambi?”

“It was actually the first time anyone put real work into making them move like real animals,” Steve said, almost bouncing down the hall after them. “It was absolutely fantastic.”

Wanda laughed, feeling better than she had since they had departed for their mission. Natasha smiled at her, the small, quick, toothy thing that the spy offered as genuine happiness, rather than the practiced one she flashed cameras and marks.

“Your brother will sort his shit out,” Natasha said quietly, under the steady rhythm of Steve’s voice. “Clint had a protective moron phase after the first time I had to run missions without him, too. He got over it. You’ll have the same problem, whenever you get taken out of commission and have to watch Pietro go get into trouble without you.”

“Thank you,” Wanda whispered. “Wait,” she asked, looking back at Steve, “did they really keep a private zoo?”

***

The movie, to Wanda’s surprise, was exactly what she hadn’t known she needed—it gave her a chance to come down as gently as possible from the adrenaline rush of the mission, and having other people around was steadying in a way she hadn’t been prepared for. Clint sat on the floor, the ankle he’d sprained stretched out in front of him as he leaned his head against Natasha’s thigh and she played with his hair. Steve sat between Natasha and Wanda on the couch, offering informative commentary on the art and the occasional comment about what the movie had been like the first time he saw it, in 1942. As Wanda felt the electric energy of the fight fade from her muscles, she let her head drop wearily to Steve’s shoulder. Steve was, she thought, very much like a really big dog, affectionate and protective and tactile—she hid her face in his shirt when Bambi’s mother was shot, and when she looked up again even Natasha’s eyes looked a bit shiny, and Steve’s lashes were damp.

The door opened as Bambi took his father’s place as Prince of the Forest, and two figures stood there. Wanda didn’t look over, still watching the screen as the music swelled.

“Close the door, Vision,” Natasha ordered. “What do you need?”

“I have been speaking with Pietro and thought you would not mind if I brought him here,” Vision said, doing as he was told and closing the door behind them.

“Brat,” Wanda said, sitting up in surprise.

Her brother smiled at her, a little sheepishly, and blurred across the room to stand beside the couch. Pietro lowered himself to sit on the floor and looked up at her, chewing on his lip. “Sestra,” he said, “I—I am sorry. I should have let you take care of yourself. You are not a child anymore.”

“Neither are you,” she said, and reached out tentatively toward him. Pietro tangled their fingers together, like they had when they were small, and she looked at where their hands linked. “I know you want to protect me. I want to protect you, too.”

“I should have trusted you more,” Pietro admitted quietly. The words clicked into place like the last piece of a circuit, and Wanda blinked.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, you should. You are always in a hurry to protect me from the whole world. Do you not trust me to protect myself?”

“I do!” Pietro rushed to reassure her. “I do. I just.” He sighed, visibly casting about for the words he was struggling to articulate, and made a motion, as if tearing his heart out of his chest with one clawed hand. “You are my sister,” he said helplessly.

Wanda took a deep breath and felt the last of the hard knot in her chest unravel, the words he couldn’t find settling into place in her mind as surely as if he had written them a foot high on the wall. “I know,” she whispered. She clutched his hand tighter. “You are my brother. Let me take care of you, too. That is all I ask.”

“Da, Wanda,” Pietro murmured. “I will.”

There was a beat of respectful silence before Natasha announced, “I think this calls for another movie.”

“Can Vis stay?” Wanda asked, looking up from her brother.

“Sure,” Clint said. “Pull up a bit of floor, Bot Boy. All right, kiddies, raise your hand if you’ve seen Lilo and Stitch.”

17 notes · View notes

fuckingchatnoir · 7 years

Video

Chapter 3 of Fanboy is posted!

Ao3 Link

The whole chapter below the cut

This is also an animation I did from one of the scenes in this chapter :)

Adrien wasn’t sure how long he’d been passed out. He’d never fainted before in his life. Was he okay? Did he hurt himself? He wasn’t sure if anyone even noticed him falling from that building. He half-expected to wake up on a cold rocky surface with a few injuries – minor or severe he didn’t know yet. However, his fingers began to move, trying to grab onto to something, but instead of dragging along cement or brick, they dug into something soft and plush.

What?

He continued to touch, realizing that something resembling a cushion was under his head as well.

Am I resting on clouds?

Am I dead?

His fingers dug into the mysterious surface once again.

Oh my god, I’m dead and I’m lying on clouds!

“I think he’s waking up.”

His eyes began to slowly open at the sound of a familiar voice, his head still feeling a bit dizzy, but better nonetheless. He heard something scoot closer to him. The sound resembling that of a moving chair. He wanted so desperately to know where he was and what was even happening, but he knew that he had to actually open his eyes completely in order to find out.

He expected to see a lot of things when he woke up: angels, doves, harps, maybe even a pile of garbage if, in fact, he didn’t actually die and just fell onto some pillows in a dumpster.

What he didn’t expect, however, was the sight of his classmate staring at him intensely with her face only a few inches away from his own. Her eyes were blue, shimmering, and observing him like he was a lab rat in a science experiment.

Adrien, still in costume, of course did the first thing that came to his mind and screamed loudly – his body practically jumped in place. Marinette slammed her hands over his mouth quickly in response and he felt how warm they were.

“Shut up,” she whispered nervously, Adrien mumbling words of panic under her clasped hands. “You’re going to wake my parents!”

“Whyur amiop Iyui heuire?! Whujik amiun Iyug?!” His legs were still moving like flying noodles and he realized that his arms were a bit sore.

“Lower your voice! I’ll answer all your questions if you just calm down!”

Her head was turned to the left, her attention on some closed entrance on the wooden floor nearby. The blond knew that his classmate was a good person. He always thought of her as his shy and gentle – yet confident – friend who was too sweet for her own good. Yet there she was next to him in her swivel chair, using her unexpected strength to keep him pinned down and quiet. And, well, he didn’t know what to think anymore.

He finally relaxed his legs defeatedly and rose his eyebrows in question.

“Canijs youuih letjh gookj nowisjn?”

“Do you promise to keep your voice down?”

He nodded quickly and the girl’s eyes narrowed briefly at him.

“Iiu promiselujs!”

“That doesn’t sound any quieter, but fine.”

She obliged and released her hands, the boy gasped and sat himself up quickly before he just stared at his legs, still in disbelief. Marinette sat calmly in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, her sight never leaving Chat.

“Are you fine now?” She asked after a few seconds of silence. She appeared completely unfazed by the whole situation, which only made the boy even more riled up.

“Am I fine now?! You just-“

“What did I say about keeping your voice down?”

He took a deep breath before he crossed his legs over one another and turned to face her. He knew he had to calm himself down. If not, he wouldn’t get the answers he was looking for and would possibly get Marinette even more annoyed than she already was. He really didn’t want her to pin him down like that again. He could still feel the heat from her palms on his lips.

“You cat-napped me and still won’t tell me why and how I got here.”

She rolled her eyes at his pun and rubbed her face up and down with her hand in an exaggerated manner before scooting herself closer to him, the front of her calves touching the side of her chaise lounge. She was wearing bright pink pajama shorts and he could see her knees. She had freckles scattered on them like small constellations.

“I didn’t kidnap you. You fainted. I was in the area. Ladybug caught you and took you back to my place, and now we’re here.”

Her response sounded rehearsed, maybe too rehearsed, but Adrien of course didn’t focus on that. His cheeks flushed immediately at the sound of his beloved’s name instead.

“Wait, L-ladybug caught me? She saw me fai-“ He groaned loudly and hid his masked face behind his hands.

Great! She probably thinks I’m a total lame-o now! Smooth move Agreste.

“Really, that’s what you focus on?”

He groaned again. He didn’t think anyone had seen him, much less saved him. Even though he was grateful that his lady was there for him yet again, a part of him wished she hadn’t been there to witness the whole thing. He probably looked weak, fragile, and not partner-worthy in her eyes and he didn’t know how he was going to face her the next time they met. How was she going to look at him? With pity, with frustration, with disappointment? He wasn’t sure and he wasn’t excited to find out.

Marinette sighed.

“You shouldn’t be sitting like that. You should lay down and rest for a while.”

Adrien peeped through the spaces between his long fingers and stared at the girl who looked to be concealing a certain emotion he couldn’t yet decipher.

“Why?”

“You fainted. If you don’t rest for a few minutes it could happen again.”

“But I feel fine.”

“Chat.”

The boy wanted to say no, resist more since he didn’t want to be treated like some broken doll. But he saw the bags under her eyes, noticed the many hair strands coming out from her loose pigtails, and instead decided to oblige, feeling a pang of guilt rise up in his throat.

“Okay.”

He laid back down slowly, releasing a small breath of relief once his head hit the cushion again. He stared up and noticed the red umbrella over his head. It was an interesting choice of décor and if Chat wasn’t still so confused and embarrassed he would’ve asked the girl about it. However, he remained silent instead not really sure which of his swarming questions he should ask first. But, he didn’t have time to choose one because Marinette beat him to the punch.

“Do you feel any pain?”

He looked over at the girl and cocked an eyebrow, the side of his mask going up along with it.

“Like, do you have a headache, a bruise, a scratch, anything? Did Ladybug hurt you in anyway when she caught you?”

“Of course, not,” He stated defensively. “I feel fine. Just a bit sore is all.”

He was guessing it had to with his exhaustion in some way, but he didn’t question that any further.

Marinette nodded, and rubbed her left thigh, not really knowing what else to do with her hand.

“Why did she bring me here specifically?” he finally asked, his fingers intertwined over his chest.

She shrugged.

“Like I said before: I was in the area. She told me that she didn’t know where you lived and I offered to take you in until you woke up and felt better.” The girl answered nonchalantly. Chat just looked at her intently, his chest beginning to feel as warm as his lips.

“You offered?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“You were passed out, she was desperate, and there was nowhere else you could go. Why would I say no, Chat?”

There it was again. She called him Chat, and it sounded so familiar coming from her lips – like it belonged there. The boy wasn’t sure why she continued to call him that since they weren’t necessarily friendly when he was his alter ego, but he didn’t say anything about it. Marinette was a friendly person in general, so, after a bit of thinking, he realized that it wasn’t much of a surprise.

Even after everything he went through in the past few minutes, he still wanted to know more about her. She was much more confident with him as Chat Noir, that’s for sure, and he craved to know why.

“Ladybug was desperate?”

Marinette groaned loudly and Chat simply shrugged and smiled before chuckling tiredly.

“You’re unbelievable, really.”

“Why, first you take me to your room and now you’re showering me with compliments? How you spoil me, princess.”

“Ughhh.”

They spoke for a while longer and Chat decided to ask a few more questions that were on his mind. The blond asked her how long he was out, what Ladybug said to her when she held him in her arms, if he was drooling (since he tended to do that when he was asleep), and other less-pressing questions, but honestly he just wanted to talk to her more.

“About two to three minutes, she didn’t say much, and why would you be drooling? Should you have been drooling?”

She asked her own questions, most of them on the topic of why he wasn’t getting enough sleep. Which frankly, those weren’t his favorite to answer. He mostly replied with shrugs, his bell jingling a few times along with the action. After a few more minutes, his classmate finally gave up and got up from her seat. He stared at the backs of her knees as she walked off, wondering if she had any freckles there too. He had never really noticed them before since that was one of the first times he actually got to look at her up close without her shaking or moving away. She had them on her cheeks, some on her fingers, and three or four near her collarbones. He wasn’t sure about the number exactly since he had merely glanced there for a brief second and didn’t give himself time to figure it out.

I wonder if Ladybug has any freckles.

Maybe I should add that in my fic.

“Stay there and don’t fall asleep.” She said before she went through the small entrance on her floor that she was previously so nervous about. She promised to come back up with water and food, and even though he said that he was fine – if only because he felt that he was overstaying his welcome anyway – his stomach grumbled loudly and she wouldn’t let him try to talk her out of it.

She would only take a few minutes to come back up, meanwhile Chat had distracted himself by staring at the umbrella that hovered over him and a piece of thread that he had noticed popping out from the cushion under his left palm. He twirled it around his fingers a few times and hummed some song he made up on the spot. Suddenly, He thought about the last time he was here as Adrien. They had been seated over by her computer practicing for the gaming tournament and honestly, he had just been so impressed by her that whole day. Not only had her sudden confidence at the library shocked him, but her skills in general were outstanding. He couldn’t stop telling Plagg about her once he got home; of course, after he gushed about how kickass his lady was when she controlled that bot.

He had had fun that day and felt saddened that they hadn’t hung out like that since. He still had her bracelet that she gave him and wasn’t sure whether he even wanted to give it back or not. She hadn’t asked for it yet, so he assumed that she had probably given it to him to keep. Besides, he liked the colors of the beads, he thought they were cool.

He felt himself smile at the thought.

That bracelet was nice.

Damn… Marinette was just nice and being with her in her room that night reminded him again of why he wanted her to enjoy his story so badly.

If Marinette likes it then it’s good enough.

It’s more than enough.

The girl returned with a glass of water and a small plate of two croissants that brought a strong scent of melted butter along with them. The soft smile on her face lit the dimmed room. He thanked her immediately before he chugged down the drink. He didn’t realize how thirsty and hungry he was. He had devoured the two pastries in what seemed like less than a minute, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed.

There he was, in her home eating like a starving animal without a care after she had been so courteous to him. He must’ve looked completely rude and ill-mannered. His father would’ve had his head if he found out he pulled a stunt like that in someone’s home.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I guess I was sort of hungry after all.”

Marinette just smiled at him with a confused yet amused expression. She sat back down in her seat and scooted closer to him once more.

“It’s fine, really. I don’t mind. Just try not to get crumbs anywhere.”

He apologized again and the girl wouldn’t stop looking at him in an odd way. They both decided to change the subject and after some small talk, Marinette yawned. Adrien suddenly remembered that it was late and that school was a thing that existed.

“I should get going.”

She looked over at her window beside her computer, staring at the blanket of black night that hid the world from them. Her eyes then met his and he stared at her fidgeting hands. She was still concerned.

“You can stay a while longer if you want. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Chat smiled fondly at that.

“Princess, this cat’s stronger than he looks. I paw-romise you.”

“Yeah, of course.” She scoffed and he chuckled before getting himself off of the chaise lounge he had been lazily resting on for almost an hour. His legs felt like jelly.

“But really, it’s getting late and I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I’ll be fine.”

She got up too, however, and they stood in front of each other, Chat still smiling at her as she continued to frown up at him. She was shorter than him, of course, but her stance was still so confident. She looked like a small soldier ready to salute, her back straight and her chin held up high. Adrien was beginning to realize how expressive his friend was and it made him happy that he now knew that.

“Me too.”

She sighed in defeat and Adrien began to head towards the circular window near the chaise lounge. He tried to approximate the length he was going to have to make his staff in order to land correctly. He was praying that his hands wouldn’t slip like they almost did during patrol when he landed.

He was a bit nervous. His eyes were tired and a loud yawn escaped him that made his body tense. He wasn’t sure if he could pull off the jump anymore, but he knew that he really had no other choice. It’s not like he could just walk out the front door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He immediately stopped in place and turned to face her, his baton in his hand and his grip tiredly loose.

“Um, home?”

“Not through there,” Marinette walked up to him, frowning with her arms crossed. “You fainted.”

“And?”

“And I’m not going to let you hurt yourself! Are you serious?”

“Well, how do you suggest I get out of here then?”

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a look of disbelief.

“Um, through the front door?!”

“What?”

She sighed from frustration and grabbed his left wrist, his eyes widening slightly at the sudden contact. She was leading him to the floor entrance. She actually had expected him to leave through the front door.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He said as he planted his feet firmly on the ground, stopping them both from walking further. “Won’t your parents see me?”

“It’s twelve-thirty in the morning, they’re asleep. When I got you the food, I closed their door just in case and even took down the entrance bell so they wouldn’t hear us.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Her hand was still holding his wrist and he could feel that same sensation of warmth again that he felt on his lips after she had slammed her hands on his mouth earlier. He wasn’t really sure what to say. He was exhausted and very thankful for everything she’d done for him, but he felt like a thank you wouldn’t be enough. He wanted to say more to the girl that thought of everything when it came to him.

“I’m sorry,” Her voice rang through his ears and he realized that he still hadn’t said anything to her. She had looked so confident before, so driven to get him out of there safely. Now, though, her expression was softer and her hand wasn’t holding onto his wrist anymore. “I do this thing sometimes where I kind of get over-protective of my friends and make them do things without asking them first. Is it okay with you to leave through the entrance? Or are you not comfortable with that because of your whole identity thing and all?”

She was rambling and he couldn’t believe that she just called him her friend.

Holy shit.

“Friends. Yeah, you do that for your friends and stuff,” He coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s fine, yeah. Sorry, I just spaced out a bit. But I don’t mind that over-protective friend thing. Yeah.”

WHAT AM I SAYING?

THIS IS WHY SHE CAN’T LOOK ME IN THE EYE AT SCHOOL.

She smiled and looked at him amused again before nodding and whispering “Okay, good.”

They walked down the steps silently, Chat following right behind the other teen as quietly as he could, his tail in his hands and his baton back in place on his back.

They made it all the way to the door successfully without anyone seeing. The bakery was dark and Marinette was using her phone flashlight to guide them to the front.

“Be careful getting home.” She finally spoke, her voice even lower than before. The bright flash was held under her chin so he could see her expression and he stared at the shadow of her long eyelashes on top of her darkened eyes.

“Yeah, thank you again. I appreciate this.”

He really did.

“Of course! And I would say anytime, but I don’t want you back here because you passed out again. Seriously, get some sleep.”

He smiled at that and bowed, his head tilting up to look up at her.

“Whatever my princess desires.”

“You can hardly see it now, but I’m rolling my eyes.”

He chuckled and smiled when she put the light on him again.

“Goodnight, Marinette.”

“Goodnight, Chat Noir.”

He couldn’t see her smile, but he could hear it in her voice. The blond walked to the door and, before he went out completely, he turned back one last time to look at her again.

“Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

His smile was gone and he swallowed nervously.

“Was Ladybug disappointed?”

The flash was still on him and he couldn’t see the girl’s reaction. He felt like he was talking to a ghost.

“Disappointed?”

“Yeah, in me…tonight? When I fainted, that is.”

There was silence for a while and Adrien was beginning to feel like the air was suffocating him.

“Of course not. She was….she was worried though.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah. Very.”

“Ah.”

“Now go get some sleep, Chat. She’d want that.”

His grip on the door was looser than it had been moments ago and he realized that he had been holding in his breath. Marinette turned the light on herself again to reveal her smile and Chat couldn’t help but smile back.

For her.

For them.

Damn, I’m tired.

“Okay.”

_______________

After de-transforming and feeding Plagg his much-deserved camembert, Adrien finally went to sleep, his head a bit warm and his computer untouched and off.

Since school was Adrien’s responsibility entirely, his father always expected him to rely on himself when it came to waking up. He had to set his own alarm and make sure he was dressed and ready on time in the mornings. However, some days he found himself feeling exhausted with all the patrols, akuma fights, homework, practices, and modeling, so he slept through his alarms unknowingly. Those were the days where Nathalie would be the amazing woman that she was and assist him by notifying him in a stern and loud voice that he was going to be late. She wasn’t supposed to do that. Adrien knew that she wasn’t supposed to do a lot of things but she did them anyway if she felt that it would benefit him – though she would never admit it. He really appreciated her in that aspect.

That morning was one of those occasions. He was still sleeping, Plagg hidden and wrapped like a burrito in a small blanket he had gotten for him right beside him. The woman’s voice blared through the room.

“Adrien, if you do not wake up now, you’ll be late to school again.”

That was usually the line that got the blond up and out of his bed within a few seconds, however, that morning he didn’t budge. His eyes were still closed and his mouth was open, small snores released occasionally.

Nathalie’s eyebrows furrowed at that and she came closer to his bed, her arms still behind her and her back straightened in a conservative manner.

“Adrien, you will be late.”

Nothing.

“Adrien, are you ignoring me?”

After a few more seconds of staring at the sleeping teen, Nathalie noticed that his cheeks were a flushed red that didn’t look natural on him. She finally decided to walk up to the boy completely, bending down to rest her palm on his forehead. He was warm, too warm.

She sighed and immediately contacted his father.

He stayed home for three days after they found out that he had gotten a small cold, the doctor telling him to get some rest and drink lots of fluids. He obliged and tried to catch up on as much sleep as he could. He would nap during the day, go to sleep early at night, and prayed that Hawkmoth was too busy in his civilian life to plan anything treacherous. His throat was sore, his nose was stuffy, and he missed seeing his friends at school. Other than that, however, he felt sort of relieved that he got a small break. He knew he needed one. When he was awake, he completed the homework assignments that Nino kindly left in his mailbox, played video-games, caught up on a few shows that he’d been missing, and was trying his best to avoid his computer.

He found freedom in his writing and loved the jolt of excitement it gave him whenever his fingers touched the keyboard, but he knew that his hobby was beginning to turn into an obsession, and that too much of a good thing wasn’t a good thing. So, for the first two days, he avoided it completely. He wanted to make his Lady proud that he was catching up on his sleep. He wanted to make Marinette proud too.

He had thought about the two girls a lot in those few days of solitude. He thought about Ladybug’s worry, her strength, her courage, how she must’ve looked when she caught him in the air. Adrien hoped Marinette didn’t lie to him when she‘d said that the heroine wasn’t disappointed.

He didn’t think Marinette was the kind of person to say things she didn’t mean anyway.

And then his thoughts would switch to his classmate. He thought about that night a few days ago. She was so different around him when he was in costume. Her confidence radiated off of her and he couldn’t stop staring. He thought about her freckles, her kind words, her concern, her red umbrella that she had on that chaise lounge. He wondered if she still had the one he gave her that day in the rain a few months back.

She probably didn’t.

The inspiration was blooming in his chest hour by hour and on that third day as soon as he woke up, he walked over to his computer and finally sat down. Plagg rested on his mouse immediately and looked up at him with concerned eyes.

“Maybe you should worry about this another day, kid.”

Adrien opened his palms and rested them on his lap, signaling the kwami to rest on them. Plagg didn’t move, however. The teen sighed.

“Don’t worry Plagg. I got my sleep and I’m going to continue getting my sleep. But I still want to write. That’s why I’m doing this in the morning. I promise you that I won’t stay up anymore unless it’s for hero purposes.”

Plagg didn’t look convinced.

“I promise.” He stared down at his friend with a sincere expression and smiled softly at him. “I mean, I wouldn’t want you to get all worried about me again.”

Plagg finally floated up in front of the boy’s face with his small arms crossed over his chest.

“Please, me worried? I just can’t have you all tired or I’ll starve again.”

“Hey! I fed you!”

“Yeah, barely! What happened to extra camembert Fridays?! I was robbed!”

Adrien snorted and patted his shoulder, the small god immediately rested there.

“You glutton,” He stroked the top of his friend’s head softly. Plagg’s eyes closed in comfort. “Now that I’ll be more organized I’ll bring back extra camembert Fridays and movie night Wednesdays.”

“Will there be popcorn?”

“There will be popcorn.”

“Extra butter?”

“As much as you want, buddy.”

Adrien started typing calmly. Plagg eventually dozed off on his shoulder and the light wind coming from his opened window made the atmosphere feel more tranquil. The blond enjoyed himself, finding the day passed by quickly with his word count growing alongside the mountain of tissues he had next to his keyboard.

He napped after writing two-thousand words and spent the remaining hours in his bed, feeling more awake than he had in weeks.

______________

Nathalie didn’t have to wake him up the next day, the boy had gotten out of bed as soon as he heard the first ring of his alarm. He missed seeing his friends, and couldn’t wait to show Nino this new DJ he found in the deep parts of his recommended videos on youtube. He felt that the man had a similar sound to Nino’s and that his friend would love his tracks as much as he had. He also wanted to see Marinette again. He wondered if she had read a certain story while he was gone.

Plagg told him to stop talking about her and to just go to school already. So, he did and he had a smile on his face the whole time.

He was still sneezing and felt a bit of discomfort in his throat when he spoke, but other than that, he felt fine. It was Friday, he was going to have lunch with his best friend, he was going to see Marinette, he had patrol with his lady the next day, and he was pretty sure he was going to update later that night. He couldn’t be more elated.

That was until he heard his two classmates talking behind him later that morning. The teacher had gone to the bathroom momentarily, Nino was jotting down notes as he listened to the songs Adrien suggested, and Marinette and Alya were talking to each other.

At first they chatted about the designs that Marinette was working on. Apparently, the girl had artist’s block.

“You don’t get it, Alya. Usually I can just stroll through the park, look at something and get inspiration. But recently I’ve just… I don’t know! I think I’ve lost my touch.”

“Girl, you’re an amazing designer and nothing can change that. Right now, you’re just on a block. You just need to find yourself a muse.”

“A muse?”

“Yeah! Something or someone that speaks to you, that inspires you!”

“You really think I can find one?”

“Of course!”

Adrien smiled softly at that. He loved it when friends supported each other, it always had been something that warmed his heart. Like the week before, when he saw Alix give Kim her lucky shoelace the day of his baseball game, Kim had tied it around his wrist like a bracelet with a look of pride on his face. Or when the lights briefly went out during a storm and he saw Rose hugging a trembling Mylene when they came back on. He loved seeing that kindness and bond between people, and those moments always made him even more thankful for his own friends and acquaintances.

He wished he and Marinette were closer. He would’ve told her about the countless times his own father had artist’s block. Even though the man was a famous designer, he was human and it was a perfectly normal thing to experience. Besides, he agreed with Alya. Marinette was very talented and he knew that she would find inspiration soon enough.

Alya started talking about the ladyblog soon after, the topic switching smoothly. She had changed the color of her blog skin and mentioned how a few people disapproved of it. Marinette told her to just keep it the way she wanted it, and Alya hummed in agreement. Nino began to nudge Adrien with his elbow, his right hand on his lowered headphone.

“Dude, this guy is killer.”

Adrien smiled.

“I knew you’d like him.”

“Like him? I love this man. I’m going to marry him. It’s happening. You’ll be the best man at our wedding.”

The blond snorted at that, raising an eyebrow at his friend’s antics before he sneezed lightly.

“Marrying someone only for their talent, Nino? That’s so selfish of you.”

“Shit, you’re right. I could never do something like that to a literal music god.”

“And if you marry him, then who’d marry Alya?” Adrien whispered the last part so no one else would hear, a smirk playing on his lips. Nino blushed furiously, his eyes widening before he grabbed Adrien’s collar and pulled him closer to him. He then proceeded to look around cautiously, the other teen trying his hardest not to laugh.

“I don’t like Alya like that, alright,” He muttered, not meeting Adrien’s gaze as he continued to stare around the room. “So, lower your voice or people will talk.”

“What’s so bad about people thinking you like her, dude?”

“N-nothing! It’s just that she could hear and she’ll never let me live it down man and-“ He sighed, finally meeting Adrien’s gaze. His cheeks were still red. “She’ll fuck me up dude. That girl may be drop dead gorgeous but she’s scary.”

“You think she’s drop dead gorgeous?”

Nino blinked twice in response.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Oh no.”

Adrien’s smile only widened, his teeth beginning to show and Nino blushed even more before releasing his friend and placing his headphones back over his ears.

“Nope, this isn’t happening. Not today. I’m going to listen to my future husband again, so wipe that smile off your pretty face and leave me alone.”

“Awwww, you really think I’m pretty?!”

“Why are you like this,” he glanced back at Adrien who was beginning to laugh and tried to suppress his own growing smile. “But yeah bro, you’re pretty and I fucking hate you.”

“Bro.”

“Shut it.”

Nino began to listen to music again, marking up his notes once more with a small grin on his face, Adrien chuckled brightly in response. No one paid attention to their conversation, lucky enough, so Adrien sighed happily and began to play some fighting app on his phone. His teacher was taking a while and he hoped that she was okay.

“I’m not reading it and I don’t think I will.”

His head snapped up at the sound of Marinette’s voice.

“Almost half of the school is reading it. I think you should give it a chance. And I mean if you know who is reading it, why not?!”

“It’s just not my thing, Alya. And besides, like I said before, I don’t like the way they write them.”

Adrien’s shoulders tensed and he felt his smile fade. They were talking about his story again, he knew it, he felt it.

“The author developed them more, especially Chat, but if you say so, I guess I won’t bother you about it anymore. You do you.”

Marinette groaned and Adrien stared back at his phone, their teacher returning soon enough with an apologetic smile on her face.

She’s not going to read it Agreste, just forget it.

__________________

It was seven in the evening and Adrien was pouting in his swivel chair, his fingers tapping against his mouse mindlessly as he stared at his opened document. Plagg was devouring his extra plate of camembert over on his couch while watching some game show. He had a thing for watching people humiliate themselves on live television.

He was writing the ending scene of his next chapter, his mind racing with thoughts that didn’t revolve around his story. He didn’t know what to write Ladybug’s reaction to the situation he created and it was absolutely killing him. All he could think about was the way his father had canceled dinner plans with him again through email and Marinette. A deadly combo.

“Ughhhh. Why is writing hard?!” He complained as he rubbed his face with his hands dramatically. He heard Plagg shush him from afar and groaned again.

How would Ladybug react if Chat messed up in a fight?

Adrien didn’t really want to think about it since that was one of his greatest fears, but he had to, and honestly, he wasn’t sure how the heroine would react if it were to happen. He’d messed up in battles a few times already, that’s for sure, but it was never anything too disastrous like in his chapter. So, he didn’t have anything to write by.

Why did I have to make this chapter so angsty?!

He leaned back in his chair, his hands rested on his thighs as he stared at his lit screens in thought.

This is what Marinette must’ve meant earlier today about the lack of inspiration.

Adrien wanted to give up for that night and join Plagg on the couch, maybe criticize him again for laughing at other people’s humiliation, but he knew that if he didn’t get that chapter done that night, he wasn’t going to look at the document for a while. The blond hated procrastinating almost as much as failing, and besides, he didn’t want to disappoint his readers. He had promised them a chapter earlier that day on his blog and he was never one to go back on his word.

So, he took in a deep breath and scooted his chair closer to his computers, placing his fingers on his keyboard slowly.

Think. Think. Think.

What would Ladybug do? What would Ladybug do?

His lady was an absolute mystery to him. Even though he could write her quirks and mannerisms perfectly, he still didn’t know in depth how she was in more personal ways. It hurt him to admit that to himself, but he had to face the fact.

I just gotta try to think like her. That can’t be too hard, right?

It was, frustratingly and evidently so. To the point where two hair ties and a loud groan later, Plagg finally floated to him to see what all the commotion was about.

“What did you do to your hair?” his kwami asked as soon as he saw the boy, staring regrettably at the top parts of his blonde locks in messy pigtails that looked like they were tied by a small child.

“I’m trying to channel Ladybug.”

“You look like an idiot. Take those things off.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Plagg attempted to float to the top of his head, his small stubby arms trying to reach for the loose hair ties, but Adrien kept refusing and moving around, his hands over his hair protectively.

“These are helping me think!”

“You need a brain to do that. Now stay still!”

After a few more seconds of the ridiculous chase, Plagg finally got to him, grabbing the scrunchies and a few strands of Adrien’s hair too in the process.

“Um, OW!”

“Hey, next time don’t go running around like a lunatic and I won’t hurt you.”

“Give them back!”

“Why? What could you possibly gain from wearing these?!”

“I don’t know! Inspiration…ideas!”

“You see, the fact that pride and dignity weren’t on that list should tell you something.”

“Plaaagg!”

“Even though I know I’m going to regret asking, what’s this all really about? You’re already a pretty weird human but this is a new low.”

Adrien sighed in defeat and told Plagg everything – from what happened that day at school with Marinette, to his father, to his lack of inspiration. He didn’t hold back and the kwami listened the whole time, little-by-little lowering himself to Adrien’s hands before he placed the hair ties in his palm gently.

Adrien smiled fondly at him before he slipped them around his wrist.

“Well, didn’t you feel terrible when you fainted a few days ago?”

Adrien cringed at the memory.

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder.”

“You’re welcome. And can you say that your weird book Chat is feeling the same as you did?”

Adrien’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he lifted Plagg higher up to his face.

“I suppose, yeah.”

“And that chick said that Ladybug wasn’t mad at you, right?”

“Yes, now where are you going with this exactly?”

Plagg rolled his eyes and flew up from the boy’s hands, floating right in front of his face so Adrien could really look at him.

“Writers write what they know. So, do as the Romans do and do just that.”

Adrien stared at him blankly a while longer, his hand going over to his mouth. He bit his knuckle lightly in thought, trying to comprehend what Plagg was trying to tell him.

And then it hit him and his eyes widened in realization.

“Y-you think I should write what Marinette told me?!”

“Ah, he can be taught!”

Adrien shook his head quickly, nervously.

“Isn’t that creepy? That was like a moment we had there. I can’t just write it down for everyone to see. It’s too personal.”

“What’s so personal about it? You almost fell on your butt, Ladybug saved you, and that girl told you not to get so sad about it. Seemed like a simple thing to me.”

“But…but…”

The teen’s hand lowered to his thigh again, his fingers squeezing it tightly. He felt that he was already crossing a small line by writing LadyNoir fanfiction in the first place. But now, writing word-for-word dialogue and events that happened between him and his friends? That can’t be cool… It shouldn’t be. Should it?

“You’re doing that thing again where you know I’m right, but you’re overthinking things.”

“I’m not overthinking things, Plagg!”

“Ah, but you think I’m right.”

“What if she finds out, I mean-“

“Didn’t you say she’s not reading it?”

Damn, he’s right.

Adrien’s cheeks flushed and he thought about Marinette’s words from that night again, his hand placed over his heart.

If Ladybug truly was worried about me and not angry, then she would act the same in this situation too, right?

God, the dialogue would be perfect, now that he thought about it. The tone would still be intact and it wouldn’t sound too rushed like the last chapter. It was killing him how well it would fit. Exactly like a puzzle piece.

“Why am I like this?” He finally announced simply before he turned his chair around and started writing.

“I don’t know, but give me more cheese.”

_____________________

Chapter 9 of “The Empty Streets of Paris”

--by FelineGood16 on FanWorkz.net

“She almost got me,” he states in a vulnerable tone, his hand gripping around his staff tightly like he’s afraid to lose it. “People got hurt because of me.”

She’s staring at him, intensely and observantly with a spark in her eyes that reminds him of lightning.

“Chat.”

“Are you disappointed?”

She steps forward, walking away from the moonlight that was illuminating her to walk into the darkness alongside him. Her head tilts to the side in confusion and god, how can someone’s eyes still look so blue in the night?

“Disappointed?”

“Yeah, in me… tonight? With everything that happened.”

'You are, aren’t you?’ He was about to say, the words burning his throat

Her expression immediately shifts into something he can’t decipher, her feet moving her closer to him in a quick pace. He’s about to walk backwards, away from his knight – since he feels that he said too much. That he keeps saying too much. There always seems to be a pull between them forcing him closer to her even in times where he doesn’t want to, and he gives in to it.

“Of course not. I was… I was worried though.”

His eyes widen and she doesn’t look away. Blue meets green and green is meeting blue and he feels like any second now he’s going to explode from the anticipation of something.

“Worried?” His voice cracks when he says it and he mentally curses himself.

“Yeah, very.”

Her hand goes to his face suddenly and her thumb rubs a small circle over his cheek. It was made of stone from the akuma only minutes ago and now it’s back to normal. Her finger glides over a bit of his mask, the part resting over his cheek bone, and he tenses nervously. He doesn’t want to even imagine how red his face is.

“Ah.” He finally says, his breath hitching when she smiles at him.

Her earrings beep and a part of him wants to grab her hand away from his face so he can intertwine their fingers together. He doesn’t and lets her leave instead, like the coward he is.

“I should go, it’s getting late anyway.” She whispers.

“Yeah.”

“Get some sleep. You deserve it.”

He nods and she gives him her signature salute before she finally goes, leaving Chat Noir there with his thoughts and aching heart.

727 notes · View notes

forkanna · 7 years

Link

[AO3 LINK]

See also: @pankite

Friday dawned with an overcast sky. The campers were all clearly unhappy about that, but they continued their activities as usual, hoping for no rain.

And they all loved Anna's braid. Especially when they saw the braid was the same as Elsa's; that drove them crazy. The sisters could see Olaf straining to say things, but apparently, their reprimand had at least temporarily headed him off from saying things like "marriage" in reference to the two of them. Instead he simply told Anna that she looked pretty with Elsa's braid and asked Elsa when she was going to copy Anna's usual hairstyle.

While their interactions were nowhere near as frequent or friendly as the last few days, Anna was relieved that her sister was at least talking to her. Even if it was just to briefly comment on her braid and to explain what that day's agendas were. However, to keep her distance from Elsa, Anna kept herself as busy as possible with the kids, patiently allowing them to play with her braid and helping them with whatever problems they were having.

It was nearing noon and while the sky was still gray and dreary, there was a brief glimpse of the sun peeking through the clouds. Their group were inside the crafts building again, but instead of birdhouses and clay, the kids were all making hats and tie-dyeing shirts. The room was filled with chatter and a mix of colour that brought life where the sky was dull.

Anna stood near the back wall to watch, arms crossed and a slight smile on her lips as she watched Elsa show some of the kids the various ways to dye the shirts. Her hands gestured so emphatically that Anna could even tell what she was demonstrating from across the room. When one of the little girls raised up her shirt to ask a question, she patted her on the head, and the girl beamed with gratitude.

A minute or so later, Elsa approached her spot by the wall, face completely passive. Leaning up against it a foot or so away, she observed, "You've been quiet today."

"Yeah, sorry." Anna subconsciously began to fidget with her hands. She smiled at Elsa but she couldn't help feeling a touch nervous under those bright blue eyes. "I'm just a little tired today, that's all."

"Oh. Well… I guess."

Anna felt a tug on her shirt and almost sighed in relief when she looked down to see Max, one of the camp owner's kids, standing in front of her with a sheepish grin. "Hmm?"

"Miss Anna, can you help me with my hat?" She ruffled his hair and nodded, watching him as he dashed back to his table before walking after him with an apologetic look towards Elsa.

She ended up staying there for a bit, watching as Elsa went back to helping the kids, however there was a slight frown gracing her beautiful features that made Anna's gut twist in guilt. She didn't mean to lie, but she wasn't sure how else to respond to the question without making the kids curious.

~ o ~

Elsa didn't try again until they were in the mess hall for supper. She had apparently been chewing on what she would say all throughout the entire crafts activity, because she spoke as if there had been no gap in their conversation.

"Of course you're tired. Where… did you sleep last night?"

The question made her blink in surprise. She was sitting alone today, seeing as Rapunzel was busy elsewhere, and hadn't expected her sister to join her. "I stayed with Rapunzel," she answered, lowering her gaze to her platter. "Her roomie, Snow, was sleeping over with the other girls so Punzie offered her bed to me. Snow was surprisingly nice about it this morning, too," she sighed slightly. "Did… you sleep okay?"

"No. I didn't. Too many thoughts running around in my head." She moved around to sit, even though she had been waiting before. Apparently, Anna's not asking her to leave was approval enough. "I have a feeling I… didn't say the right things last night. When you told me."

Anna's guilt returned tenfold at the almost casual way Elsa admitted her bad night. She wanted to shrink under the piercing gaze, feeling worse as she reflected that while Anna had Rapunzel, Elsa had no one to turn to since Anna had selfishly ran from her.

"I-I'm sorry," she managed to whisper. She heard the scrape of the chair across from her as Elsa settled down. "W-What did you mean to say?" The words came out of a tight throat and Anna fiddled with her fork, too ashamed and too guilty to look her sister in the eyes.

"I… wouldn't know, Anna. This isn't something I've ever had to talk about before. So… I think it's really unfair for you to have expected me to answer correctly the first time, don't you?"

"I don't expect you to answer 'correctly'…" Anna sighed and forced herself to eat a bit of the food despite the knots in her stomach. "I just… want some reassurance that you won't hate me, that's all. That you won't do what our mom did." She didn't like saying that, admitting it out loud still stung. "I love you, Elsa, and I can't… I wouldn't be able to deal with you hating me. I'm so sorry for leaving you last night but I just got so scared…"

Looking down at her tray for a few seconds, Elsa finally whispered, "You didn't give me a chance. You just… just dropped this bombshell on me, and then ran. Maybe I have no idea what I could have said, maybe I messed up my words, but how could I do any better with you gone?"

Anna hung her head in shame. "I'm sorry," she apologised, "I didn't… I remember you always liked to be alone to think about stuff, and I was scared that I- I would just… be a distraction, and we would fight and-" She stopped herself from finishing that sentence. "So I left to give us space to think about it. I'm sorry..."

The other sister didn't respond for a minute, opting to take a few bites of her food. Her hand was shaking as she lifted the fork up to her mouth, chest rising and falling too rapidly. Anna almost began to worry she was having an attack of some kind when she finally spoke up again, voice barely a whisper.

"You're probably right. About me needing time. But you left too early. I… I didn't… I had questions. They might have been stupid, or cruel. But I had them, and no one to ask them to." Then she set down the fork and grunted in frustration, "This is going nowhere; I keep blaming you for being scared when I don't mean to, and… and that isn't fair. I just want you to understand how I was feeling yesterday, too, that's all. Do you?"

"I literally just crapped on an entire lifetime's worth of teachings, Elsa," Anna said softly. "Trust me, I've been there, too. Luckily, Papa has been nothing but supportive of me. He never held any disdain for gay people and he always told me that my… 'lifestyle' doesn't make me any less of a person or any less of a Christian." She looked down. "But you, you were raised under the firm belief that we're bad people, and to learn that I'm one of those bad people was probably a bitter enough pill to swallow without me running off like that…"

"Anna… of course I don't hate you." Her eyes were clear and intense when Anna glanced up at them, gazing directly into Anna's. "Actually, I'm pretty hurt you think I could. Even when I thought you were ignoring me for five years, when I resented that… I still didn't hate you over it. Why should this be any different?"

"I- I just love you so much..." Anna's confession was a whisper and she had a hard time keeping Elsa's intense gaze. "I- I couldn't help but worry about the chance." She didn't mention that a large part of her hesitation had to do with their mother's actions. She wanted to reach out and hold her sister close but she hesitated, unsure where they stood. It was such a tremendous relief to know Elsa didn't hate her that Anna's tense shoulders almost completely relaxed, but she was still not too certain how welcome her touch would be.

"You really do, don't you?" Elsa's question was fragile and small. "I… wish I had never questioned it. I wish I could say that, but I can't. Because after the first few years…" Now she was looking down at the table, throat tight. "Did… you not want to talk to me all this time… because of this? Because you were afraid I wouldn't love you anymore, like you were afraid last night?"

"I told you, all I wanted more than anything was to talk to you." Anna bit her lip in frustration. "I- I admit I'm not sure I would've admitted my sexuality right away, but I would never just completely shut you out of my life! I tried so hard to contact you and I have no idea how to prove that!"

"Yeah, you said. About the picture." Suddenly, almost as if from nowhere — but obviously they had been building all along — tears were sliding down her cheeks as she hissed, "But what possible reason would Mama have to do this?! It's crazy! I know she hates Papa now from how she talks about him, I know that, but she doesn't ever talk about you at all! Not unless I bring you up! A-and you're so sweet, and kind, and every bit the sister I remember, so I just don't understand this! I'm s-so confused, and I don't know what to believe!"

"I don't know, Elsa." Seeing Elsa break down in front of her was one of the most painful sights Anna has ever seen and without another word, she stood up and walked around the table to her sister. She kneeled in front of her and embraced her tightly. "All I know for sure is that I want nothing more than to be with you… We're together now, and if you're willing, then I never want you out of my life again." She squeezed her as tightly as she could. "I think Mama cut off contact between us because she doesn't want my homosexuality rubbing off on you… I mean, she wouldn't want two gay kids, right? Why would she want that sinner tainting her only good daughter?"

"Shut up. You aren't 'bad', you aren't…" After a few seconds, Elsa's crying quieted. At first, Anna thought she was feeling better, but that hope faded when she whispered in a tight voice, "Are… you sure? That was… that was why?"

She tightened her grip and squeezed her eyes shut to keep her tears from spilling out, as well. "I've been thinking this over for hours, and that's the only thing I can think of that makes sense. She doesn't hate Papa like he thought, it's me..." She let out a soft sound that was stuck between a sob and a sigh. "I don't know Mama as well anymore so I can't say for sure… but I do know Mama freaked when I told her I kissed a girl. What else should I think?"

"When…" Clearing her throat, she pulled back to stare into Anna's face. Hers was full of a kind of dread, maybe even nausea. "When did you tell her about kissing a girl?"

"Remember when I told you about Mulan?" At the sight of Elsa's nod, Anna continued, "Mama called that night and I was just so… I dunno, confused but also kind of elated. A-And I told Mama about it because I was thirteen and wanted to share this weird, new development with her. She lost it, Elsa! Screamed and yelled, and called me all sorts of cruel things until Papa took the phone from me to diffuse the situation." Anna shuddered. "Summer just started, I remember that because Mulan left for a trip to visit relatives in her homeland in June and she kissed me the day she left."

But Anna could tell Elsa hadn't taken much of it in. Her entire face, her posture, everything about her was numb. It would have seemed like a bad omen for their relationship if the next thing Elsa did was anything else, but what she did was reach up to lay her hand on Anna's neck, stroking up and down affectionately.

"Thirteen," she rasped out dully. "Five years ago… right before…"

Anna nodded, relishing the warmth of Elsa's hand on her neck. She held Elsa even tighter. "We were supposed to visit that summer, remember? B-But Papa had to cancel the trip because he was scared of how Mama would react if she saw me… it took Mama six months before she would talk to me again."

"She did? What did she say when she would? What happened? Oh God…" Clearly, Elsa was on the verge of losing mental integrity, but she was trying to hold out long enough to hear Anna's full story. To get every piece of information into place.

"She didn't really say anything? If I asked about you, she would avoid the question or tell me you were too busy to talk and if I tried talking to her she would… she would talk about the scriptures or make general small talk rather than tell me about how you and her were doing. I mean, besides 'fine', for how much that counts. There were a few times she asked if I had 'purged the evil from my soul'… and when I didn't answer, she would hang up. But she would always call at the same time every week and would answer my calls so I had no reason to believe anything was out of the ordinary besides the fact that she never really acted like Mama anymore and that you wouldn't talk to me."

Elsa blinked a few times as Anna rubbed her shoulders, nodded, and sat blinking for a few seconds longer. Then she whispered, "Anna, I am… I still don't understand all of this, but I'm sorry that you were ever given the impression that I was too busy for you. Or that I would stop loving you just because you like women. I still don't understand that, but it's not the same as me giving up on you completely. I…" Her lip quivered. "I'm glad you're back in my life, okay?"

"I'm glad you're back in mine, too, Elsie. So glad!" Anna choked on a sob as she pressed her face into Elsa's to give her a kiss on the cheek, her arms around the older girl shaking from the onslaught of emotion and love that overwhelmed her. "T-Thank you."

Elsa nodded against her face, clinging to her hard. They sniffled and clung to each other, lost in the heartache and sadness. The spell was eventually broken by a quiet, sweet voice.

"Are you two alright over here?"

When they drew back enough to look, it was to see Snow's cherubic little face blinking down at them in concern. Anna reluctantly pulled away from Elsa, resting a hand on her cheek and using her thumb to carefully wipe the winter blonde's tears away. Anna let out a sigh.

"We're fine, Snow... we just…" She didn't know how to explain the situation so she trailed off and just looked at Elsa, who was smiling through her bleary, wrung-out expression. She felt much better than she had starting the day, but she knew that their talk wasn't quite over yet.

"We needed to get some stuff out, that's all," she finally managed to finish. That would have to do.

To Be Continued...

#bind us together lord #forkanna writes #elsanna fanfiction #pankite #forkanna the writer

15 notes · View notes

purplefictionmom · 7 years

Text

Yay, I did Elaina’s prompts!

So, I did all of the prompts requested in @elainapoststhings‘s ask and realized that its /very/ long, so I made a post! Yay!

Keep reading under the cut to read the prompts and my comments on them :D

((I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG; MY MOVE FUCKED ALL MY SHIT UP T^T))

2. “I trusted you!” Sans/Asgore “i trusted you!” He spat, before his voice dropped and his glowing eyes followed, “i...i thought you trusted me...”

Sans couldn’t look away from the broken body of the child he had been tasked with protecting; the voice through the door had been sincere and had made him want to try...but not for this. Not to this end.

“Sans,” Asgore’s deep rumble was missing in that moment, replaced by the voice of someone who was suddenly unsure and afraid, “Sans, I am only trying to help the Underground-”

“you lied to me!” Sans bit before the king could make his excuses; Sans already knew that the moment he heard them, he’d let Asgore get off scott-free. He cared about the big pushover too much to react any other way, but this... “you told me that i could trust that you’d hear the kid out; that you’d stop all this from happening again!”

Asgore’s eyes trailed down to his trident, blood hanging off the tips of the metal; his head turned toward the child laying in the bed of flowers, but his eyes refused to move from the weapon. In his peripherals, he could still see the child, but without his focus, he could almost mistaken the child to be sleeping, rather than...

“Sans, I can’t ignore my duty to my people,” Asgore tried to sound sure, and he suceeded well enough to have the strength to look Sans in the eye, “Our...M-My people must be able to rely on their king!”

“well, you go on into that wide world, i’m not interested,” Sans turned away, his chest burning, his soul pulling back toward his king, his friend, his lover, but the small skeleton wouldn’t budge. Sans knew the reset was coming--it always came--but wondered just what he’d have to own up to in order to make this right.

Would he wake up in his bed? A complete restart where he and Asgore were still on speaking terms only? Would he suddenly wake up in the Judgement Hall, waiting for the kid to walk down to their judgment? As a judge, it was his duty to report to the king when a visitor tried to gain an audience, and he’d done his job by making Asgore promise not to hurt the kid, on the hope that Sans could keep what he had fostered with Asgore.

What they had was so fragile, so many things wanted and tried to break it: the memory of Asgore’s wife, the king’s duty to his throne, both of their anxieties at trying to find love when everything was so uncertain...

All broken, and by his lover’s own hands.

c’mon, frisk, reset already; I can’t take this pain, The thoughts didn’t help; no matter where the reset took him, he’d always have this in his rib cage. Asgore broke his promise and Sans’s trust.

And it hurt, so badly.

((I freakin love the angst from the idea of Asgore fucking up to the point that a RESET would cause him to forget his relationship with Sans; especially if they had a hard courtship and Sans realizing that not only would a RESET mean he’d have to start over but that there’s a high possibility that they won’t end up together. AHHH THE ANGST))

7. “I almost lost you” Sans/Asgore Sans stood over Asgore, his back facing the king. Asgore tried to stand, but a weakness had overtaken his limbs.

“Sans,” The ruler rumbled.

“stay down,” The eerie calm that had taken San’s voice nearly sent chills down Asgore’s spine, but his eyes were drawn to the small yellow flower that was bouncing gently to some unheard beat across the room, “i almost lost you, and that’s not gunna happen.”

“Don’t you know not to interfere?” Flowey’s voice was sickly sweet, but both Sans and Asgore could hear the dangerous undertone to it, “Don’t be an idiot; stay out of this.”

“Sans, that flower is much more-”

“i know,” Sans said quietly, “but if that thing wants to get to you, it’ll have to go through me.”

Before Asgore could protest, a blue light took over the left side of Sans; the light seemed to almost dim the light around the three of them, making itself seem all the brighter.

“its a beautiful day outside,” Sans’s voice was low still, but the tone in it made even the flower stop its eternal dance, “Bird’s are singin’, flower’s are bloomin’....”

Flowey growled, his teeth clenched, “Save the spiel for someone who cares!”

“have it your way, pal.”

Even Asgore wasn’t fooled by the sweet tone in Sans’s voice.

((It was way too easy to think of a protective Asgore; i mean, he’s a super big and powerful boss monster, no brainer. But Sans protecting Asgore? A little more interesting, especially when paired with my headcanon that nobody really knows just how powerful Sans really is.))

21. “You don’t have any right to say that” Undyne/Papyrus “Y...YOU DON’T HAVE A RIGHT TO SAY THAT!” Papyrus gripped the bone in his hand, willing it to stay even though the look Undyne was leveling with him nearly made him dissipate his magic on principle.

“I’m Captain of the Royal Guard,” Undyne crossed her arms and turned her head so she didn’t haven’t look at him, “I’m the only one who’s able to say it.”

“But-” Papyrus had to swallow and try again, “BUT I’VE WORKED SO HARD TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! I CAN’T GIVE UP OR QUIT, I’M THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I...I ALWAYS...”

He couldn’t even find the words he usually hid behind so easily.

“I’m not messing around, Papyrus!” Undyne growled, but she still couldn’t meet his eyes, “You’re too...Rah! Why do you have to make this difficult!”

Except, Undyne knew the only reason this was so hard to say was because it was Papyrus and hurting Papyrus was like twisting a knife in her own gut. They’d been friends for decades, and slowly, painfully slowly, Undyne began to realize just how much she cared for the tall skeleton.

And she couldn’t face the idea of Papyrus being hurt by a human while serving as a Royal Guard. But the look on his face...Just her suggesting he find another dream and she was ready to just hand him his armor now.

“JUST GIVE ME THE CHANCE TO PROVE MYSELF, UNDYNE!” Papyrus wasn’t in tears, but by the way his voice broke, he might have been close, “I’LL SHOW YOU, I’M THE PERFECT CANDIDATE!”

She couldn’t go through with it.

“F-fine, punk! You wanna prove you’ve got what it takes!?”

“YES, UNDYNE!”

“Then you and I are going to do some super secret training!” Undyne punched the palm of her hand, a smirk appearing on her face, “Meet me at my house tomorrow at dinner time! We’re going to see just how high you can crank the heat!”

Papyrus looked so relieved, Undyne nearly flinched; there was no way she could go through with denying him from the Royal Guards now...but maybe she could direct him in a safer direction...

“I WON’T LET YOU DOWN, CAPTAIN UNDYNE! JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE: THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL LEAVE YOU IN AWE OF MY AMAZING TALENTS!”

And with that, he turned and bound off, no doubt toward Snowdin and back to his brother.

“...I don’t doubt that, Paps,” Undyne muttered to herself, her heart fluttering for a moment.

((Dude, Papyne/Undyrus was my first OTP in the Undertale fandom (it sort of died because of there being no content for them and because certain parts of the fandom are jerks who like to use the term ‘erasure’...*coughcough*) so writing this was almost nostalgic and made me happy. Just my headcanon as to why Undyne ended up teaching Paps to cook--she just can’t say ‘no’ to his goofy skele-face :3))

34. “Maybe you weren’t worth the effort” Grillby/Gaster

“You are shutting down on me,” His voice came out calmly, “...Again.”

Grillby didn’t acknowledge the words while he continued to collect dishes from the remaining tables in his bar, dumping them and their remains into the bin a little harder than he normally would.

“Whether or not you agree, I would appreciate an acknowledgement that you heard me, at the very least,” Gaster sighed, crossing his thin arms and leaning against a bar stool while he watched the fire monster continue to clean, “Or even something in the way of proving I exist to you, though your ignoring me is quite an achievement, I applaud you; normally you would be flaring and growling at me by now.”

He knew he was antagonizing Grillby, but he could take anger. Gaster could take sadness, pain, accusations, yelling, cursing, anything; anything, except being ignored. At least with the rest, he could adapt or at least try to understand why Grillby was so upset. When his fire elemental shut down like this...he couldn’t even begin to guess.

Grillby resolutely kept his mouth shut.

Gaster felt his arms nearly fall out of their position across his chest and instead folded his hands in front of his thighs, “Grillby, talk to me. You always make things so difficult when you refuse to speak and you always make me pry it out of you like I’m pulling thistles or splinters.”

A sigh, warm from his breath and flaring from his anger, was released from Grillby’s mouth and he straightened up to look at Gaster expectantly, his hands coming to rest on his hips.

Gaster suddenly felt on the spot and glanced away. He tried to gather his thoughts but his mouth was already moving, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“...It’s closing time,” Grillby said, motioning to the door before he turned to grab his bin; he started for the back, toward the kitchen.

“I-what?” Gaster’s mouth fell in shock; Grillby just dismissed him, like a child a parent was finally fed up with dealing with, “I have worked day in and day out to keep our relationship floating, despite you shutting down at every hard situation and every bad argument! I did all of that for you and you just want me gone?”

Grillby stopped when he leveled with the bar, but he didn’t say anything. His own thoughts were a whirlwind of irritation, pain and anger, but he didn’t think he could ever find all the words he needed in order to express himself. He wasn’t like Gaster--he didn’t have an expanded vocabulary or the brains to articulate, so why should he bother?

Gaster felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to let them fall--not while he was still in the same room with Grillby.

“Fine,” he spat, pushing off the bar stool hard enough to knock it over, “Fine!”

He stormed toward the door, hating himself because he couldn’t stop the first tear from escaping him, nor the second.

Gaster couldn’t--didn’t want to--stop himself from turning back once he reached the door and spitting out, “Maybe you weren’t worth the effort.”

And he slammed the door.

((Grillster/Gasby is my guilty pleasure; i love both of these monster and i just love them both together~ This is sort of going off of an idea that Grillby is the strong silent type--and the thing about silent types is that I could see them shutting down when faced with a fight with their much more eloquent partner))

48. “You think I need you? Because I don’t” Papyrus/Mettaton

Papyrus tried to catch his breath, but every time he thought he found it, Mettaton would throw another slur, or bite him with more sarcastic comments that hit his soul with all the force of a magical attack, but without the resulting damage to his HP.

“M-METTATON, DON’T DO THIS!” Papyrus pleaded, watching the robot continue to pack his things, “I DON’T TRUST THAT HUMAN; HE KEEPS TREATING YOU LIKE YOU’RE NOT A PERSON-”

“At least he cares about my dreams!” Mettaton glared--not an easy feat when you’re a square box with a grid of lights for a face, but he managed it, “Mr. Schuller says he can make me a star here on the surface!”

Papyrus put his hands up defensively, though he knew it wouldn’t protect him from the robot’s words.

“TONNIE, I WANT EVERYONE TO SEE HOW AMAZING YOU ARE, JUST AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SEE YOU,” Papyrus looked away, “CAN’T YOU JUST FIND ANOTHER AGENT?”

“Oh ho! Trying to make out to seem foolish?” Mettaton gave a flourish as he spun back to his suitcase, “Well, it won’t work, because I looked up Mr. Schuller and he’s the best! Only the best for a star such as myself~!”

Papyrus rubbed the back of his neck; no matter how much he wanted to be supportive of his wonderful robotfriend, he couldn’t leave the thought alone that Schuller was...not what he appeared to be.

“I’M JUST WORRIED ABOUT YOU; DO NOT FORGET THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM YOU BIGGEST FAN AND THE BEST FAN THERE COULD BE! OF COURSE I WANT YOU TO SUCCEED!”

Mettaton turned, crossing one arm cross his chest and raising the other hand to touch his face-plate in an almost studying manner.

“Darling,” Mettaton almost purred, “You think I need you? Because I don’t. I’m going to have millions of humans to root for me now!”

Papyrus froze, pain blooming in his chest so suddenly that he had to glance down to make sure he hadn’t been attacked--magically or otherwise. Mettaton didn’t bat a light before he turned around to continue packing, but Papyrus was having a hard time breathing again. This time, it was worse. Breathing actually made it hurt worse.

“I...I UNDERSTAND, METTATON, I...” Papyrus tried to clear his throat--not that he had one to clear--before trying to speak again, “I WAS JUST WORRIED ABOUT MY VERY SPECIAL FRIEND, BECAUSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS THE BEST AT WORRYING OVER FRIENDS....YES...THAT’S IT.”

His legs felt weak and he wanted to collapse onto the chair near him, but Mettaton turned to him again, now with a packed suitcase in hand.

“Well, darling, don’t you worry your pretty skull,” Mettaton huffed, “I’m not yours to worry about anymore, am I? Toodles!”

And with that, the robot left the room, without looking back.

Papyrus finally collapsed into the chair, and didn’t move again until Sans forced him to eat a day later.

((I hate the trope of Mettaton just being the easy out for who’s ‘wrong’ in a relationship, and if I had about 2000-3000 more words, I could probably kill the trope with a good old character examination about how badly Mettaton wants to be a famous actor/singer/famous person and probably pair this scene with something redeeming (Maybe Mettaton realizing Papyrus is right about Schuller and finding a new agent? idk...hmm....oh well, enjoy the open-ended angst!))

52. “Who did this to you?” Alphys/Undyne Nothing suggested today was anything other than normal when Alphys first heard the door, indicating that Undyne had arrived home. It wasn’t until the small dinosaur heard her girlfriend collapse onto the couch in a very un-Undyne style that Alphys started to notice that despite Undyne being home, she had yet to hear the fish monster exclaim her return in the usual style: bounding into whatever room Alphys was in and exclaiming her happiness at seeing Alphys while picking her up and spinning her once or twice.

In fact, Undyne hadn’t made any noise at all.

A small form of panic started in Alphys’s chest as she moved from her place in the kitchen toward the living room, forcing herself not to run, not to call out in a panicking shriek.

What she saw wasn’t as bad as what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t good either.

Undyne sat on the couch, lounging back into the cushions and pillows as she nursed a black eye and bleeding cut on her cheek bone. Alphys knew something more was wrong, because Undyne hadn’t even heard Alphys walk in.

“O-Oh my g-gosh! U-Undyne, who d-did this to y-you??”

As soon as Undyne heard Alphys’s voice, she sat up straight and immediately started with her boisterous answer, “Ha! It was just some anti-monster punks in the building--they walked away worse, yeah!”

Alphys knew it wasn’t true; monsters weren’t allowed to use their magic in the city limits until Asgore and Toriel were done helping integrate monsters into human society and making it fair for everyone. It had taken so long to get it where it was, but there were so many humans who were afriad, and mean, and just plain evil.

Her clawed hand came up to inspect the wound and black eye, gently turning Undyne’s face so she could get a better look. The bruise was light, but the cut was still bleeding a little. Alphys gathered a little magic into her hands and gently began to heal both, though her focus began to get blurry as she worked.

“Aw, Alph,” Undyne frowned, “Don’t cry...”

“I c-can’t help it,” Alphys grit her teeth, “I’m...I’m j-just so m-mad!”

Undyne blinked before a small blush appeared on her face, “Aw, geez...didn’t think you’d get all burned up over a little thing like this...”

“You’re not a little thing,” Alphys huffed, “You’re my girlfriend.”

Despite the day, and the world, and all the shit that Undyne had to endure since coming to the Surface, Undyne realized that to hear that from Alphys’s mouth, she’d do it all over again, in a heartbeat.

((Like Sansgore, it was too easy to imagine Undyne being the protective party saying ‘who did this to you’ and avenging her perfect dino-girlfriend with glowing spears (though the idea is epic in and of itself haha), but i love exploring Alphys and her personality. I could see the small monster being protective, even if she doesn’t feel like she could actually do anything.))

65. “Because I love you god damn it!” My Choice: Reader/Grillby

His hands shook as the green magic surrounded his hands. Your skin was mottled with a few bruises near your eye, but thankfully, you had been spared a real black eye. You hadn’t been spared from the busted lip, or the bloody nose, however.

“Tell me who did this,” Grillby demanded again--for what felt like the hundredth time--but you shook your head.

“No; it was a few humans and you aren’t allowed to retaliate,” You said the same words again, but this time you added, “I don’t want you to get in trouble over something small like this.”

“How can you call this small?” He growled. Grillby never yelled, but the way his flames sparked and grew told you how angry he really was, “If it weren’t for my healing magic, you’d have these bruises for weeks.”

“I appreciate the worry,” You reached up to gently touch his wrist, but he jerked his arm away, “Don’t do that.”

He didn’t answer you, or respond to your reprimand; he simply continued to heal you until all that was left was dried blood that still clung to your skin. You tried to wipe it away, but it flaked and left small dust-like red chips all over your shirt.

You stood to head into the bathroom, where you could properly clean up, but his voice stopped you.

“You have to stop coming over,” He said, “Spending time with me after work isn’t worth this.”

He waved a hand in your direction, but you knew he meant the injuries.

“Isn’t that my decision?” You felt your hands ball into fists at your sides, “A few anti-monster assholes aren’t going to keep me from hanging out with you! I can’t come before the bar opens because you’re up so late, and you only close up the bar one day a year, so what--I’m only allowed to see you the day after New Year’s?”

“Don’t make this hard,” He crossed his arms, and even from across the room towered over you, “This is your health and safety we’re talking about--how could I compare a few hours with you for that?”

Tears stung your eyes--so he still had no idea? Figures, you’d have to spell it out for him. Before you could, Grillby was speaking again.

“You can’t come back,” His voice was firm, “If you won’t listen, I’ll just ban you from my bar--it wouldn’t be hard, with my magic.”

A small panic shot through you--being banned from Grillby’s bar meant that you couldn’t even get in the door; his magic was linked almost directly with the building, and it was something that only Grillby could do, as far as you could tell--you couldn’t let him do that. Living the rest of your life, not able to even see Grillby, on top of him refusing to see you after hours?

The promise of that kind of pain made you glare at the fire monster, “Don’t you dare! I thought we were friends, Grillby!?”

“And as your friend, I’m worried about you!” He snapped, “You showed up 15 minutes after you leave for the night with blood dripping down your face and you act like its nothing!”

“It is nothing,” You couldn’t stop your voice from raising, “You healed it up in 5 minutes flat and after I wash away this blood, it’ll be like it never happened!”

“But it did!” Grillby flared up, his own voice growing, “It happened and I wasn’t there to protect you! Why can’t you just listen for once and keep my mind at ease?!”

“Because I love you, god dammit!” You spat, stomping your foot like a toddler and tears forcing their way to your eyes, “I can’t stand the idea of living for a single day where I can’t see you, talk to you, be with you!”

A hiccup escaped your throat, interrupting your voice, but Grillby didn’t raise his voice again; he couldn’t even find his voice after what you said. Love? You risked life and safety for him because you-

A sob shook your shoulders and interrupted his thoughts, “Dammit, I-”

You turned away; instead of heading for the bathroom, though, you were heading for the front door.

Grillby reached out, though he was no where close enough to touch you, “Wait-”

“No!” You spat, “You don’t want me around, fine! Just...FINE!”

The door slammed behind you, but not before Grillby heard another sob leave your throat.

((I’m so thirsty for Gaster/Reader and Grillby/Reader, but ooooh boy, am I thirsty for this sort of tension in a Grillby/Reader fic haha. Grillby is usually portrayed as level-headed and all that, but he’s a fire monster. Give me passion and hot-headed and burning love anyday *dreamy sigh*))

((I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ELAINA I’M SO SORRY ITS LATE T^T))

#elainapoststhings #drabbles #requests #omg i was supposed to write these /months/ ago #i'm so sorry lovely #T^T #undertale #undertale drabbles

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