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loelysian · 1 year

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marmoris (chapter 3)

(n.) the shining surface of the ocean

chapter 1 chapter 2

word count: 4.2k

summary: after a dangerous rescue mission led by namor, you safely make it back to talokan. things should be alright between the two of you. after all, you’re home safe because of him. why aren’t they?

note: since this one shot was written by me, a jewish arab person, it is hinted that y/n is also from those cultures but if you are not, that is fine. it is never explicitly stated and i don't plan on doing so in future chapters. feel free to apply your own experiences to the scenarios i've written about. please keep in mind that i am not fluent in yucatec so i've used a translator for any scenes in talokan. if you find i've upset you, please comment and let me know so i can fix it and apologize. i do not mean to offend anybody. fair warning, there are kissing scenes in this chapter so if that is not your cup of tea, i wouldn't read this. i hope you enjoy.

warnings: near-death experiences, talk of death, mentions of wounds that are not for the faint of heart and violence.

Someone had cut into the ship—that much you knew as the red, angry blinking lights and repetitive ‘warning: someone has breached the landing pad’ rang in the cockpit loud and clear. Panicking, Shuri tried everything she could to keep the ship afloat since you would be making direct contact with land instead of water when it inevitably crashed. Distantly in the air, you smelt what you thought might be smoke as you noticed the entire right side of the ship had been cut into, leaving a dangerous opening where the wing should have been. Muyal had her eyes closed, the tips of her fingers a dangerous white as she gripped onto the edge of her seat tightly, praying you would stay in the air.

Okoye and Shuri were shouting but you could barely hear them over the beeping. You had no idea what to do as you’d never so much as touched Wakandan tech in your life, but you decided to ask.

“Do you need any help?” you yelled, leaning against the back of Shuri’s seat as the ship began to tilt to the side. Bad move. You quickly sat back down and buckled yourself in, trying your hardest not to move.

“Just stay still!” Shuri begged as she pressed numerous buttons on the control panel to no avail. Nothing seemed to be working and you knew the ship was going down soon with you and everyone in it still inside.

You dared a glance out of the front of the ship and noticed Namor had vanished which worried you more than it should have. Had he been the one to damage your ship? That couldn’t be. He was right in front of your very eyes when the alarm system had gone off.

Ramonda and Riri seemed to be talking to each other in a hurry just as Shuri and Okoye were until you saw him.

From underneath the balcony of the palace, you watched as Namor flew up toward the cracked window with his winged feet, throwing three water-bombs directly toward Ramonda and Riri. The explosion had been bigger than you were anticipating and the last thing you heard before the four of you were emerged in water was Shuri’s screams.

Somewhere in the mess of the ship crashing which had effectively thrown you into a giant torpedo-like wave, slamming you against numerous shards of glass from the window and broken parts from the damaged ship, you’d lost your water-mask.

You ended up on barren, dry land several feet from the water but because your body was still in the process of healing itself from the several deep wounds you’d received, you couldn’t drag yourself into the water to catch your breath. You felt like a beached whale and were aware the air you were desperately trying to inhale sounded like you were inches from death.

There hadn’t been a time before in your life where you were almost certain you were going to die. You weren’t sure why you felt so calm—at ease. The finality of it all normally scared you, but as you laid on the sandy shore of Wakanda, you felt at peace. Since the sun was setting, you mustered enough strength to position yourself on your back so you could stare at the sky. You could still see the black smoke from the shipwreck and somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought of Shuri, Muyal and Okoye, hoping they were okay—that they survived. You could feel the wind brushing against your near-dry body much like a sea of kelp and listened as three birds circled you from above, cawing distantly. In a way, it helped ground you.

You weren’t sure if you’d healed yourself completely or the pain was too much for your body to process but everything from your neck down was numb. Maybe you’d been paralyzed from the impact of the fall. You barely registered the fact that you were crying, a tear from the corner of your eye cascading down your face like a lone raindrop on a glass window. Namor was the only person you were thinking about now—his sweet brown eyes, strong, calloused hands moving up and down your body, the sound of his laughter which you found you’d do just about anything to hear, the way he cared for you like no one else could. Your vision was beginning to dim but you continued to watch as the sky turned an orangey-pink, the sun dipping below the horizon.

Since your lungs lacked the air you so desperately needed, you felt the strong urge to cough but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Somewhere on your left side, you were beginning to regain feeling—your nerves were working again, and you were almost certain you’d been pierced by something as you were falling from the sky—pierced by something deep. You could feel the shards of glass in your hand as you tried to detach the bracelet Namor had given you—you felt the urge to hold it close one last time. It was a struggle, but eventually you got it off of your wrist with minimal pain. It was as beautiful as it was the first time you’d seen it. It made you think of the first time you’d met Namor—he had been wearing the very bracelet you were holding underneath his lab coat. It made you think of your wedding night and how close he held you after the ceremony concluded, promising to take care of you for the rest of his life. It reminded you of Talokan and how much you cared for your people.

At the tips of your toes, you began to feel the tide rolling in, the warm water inviting you back home, but you were far too weak to move, let alone stand. You had already accepted your fate and as much as it pained you to leave Namor, there was nothing you could do.

On your right, you could hear people shouting to each other in Yucatec but brushed it off, thinking you were likely hallucinating from the lack of air to your brain.

The water was getting closer to you, though, washing up and down your legs like kisses, sweet and warm until it reached your arms. It was calm and inviting. To your right, you noticed an octopus doing its best to lift debris off of your legs while a school of crabs worked to cut the net that had tangled around your shoulders. Despite the exhaustion you felt, you smiled knowing Namor had sent them for you.

When you were in the ocean, you were able to heal yourself a lot faster. Although the salt from the water stung, you could feel your body working to heal itself thanks to the vibration-infused liquid, pushing the glass out of your hands and closing up the gash in your side. Once the water was up to your neck, you prepared for complete submersion and instinctively held your breath despite being able to breathe underwater. As soon as you were completely underwater, your eyes opened and you gave the orange-red octopus a pat on its head as it worked as fast as it could. Your heart was thrumming in your chest as you tried to recall why you were here—your body was in shock though you weren’t aware of it and suddenly, as you noticed the blood on the surface of the water, you remembered how you’d gotten here. Shuri. The explosion.

Everything came back to you in a burst of energy and immediately, you sat up in a panic before you swam as fast as you could to check on Shuri—you had to make sure she was okay. She had to be. She had to.

As soon as you got to the shipwreck, both seats were empty and void—nobody was there—but what caught your eye was the fact that Shuri’s seat was crushed. You dove into the water in search of her, hoping there was a clue—anything at all that told you where she might be but there was nothing.

Suddenly, a strong pair of arms came up from behind you and held onto you, tightly. From his hands alone and the jewelry that adorned his wrists, you knew they belonged to Namor. Oh, he had come back for you. He’d made sure you were okay. At once, you turned around and threw your arms over his shoulders, the water giving you a boost as your lips intertwined with his. It was messy and desperate, your teeth colliding with his but damnit, you didn’t care—you wanted, no, needed to be close to him—to feel him as he sighed against you, his breath stuttering when you nipped his bottom lip with your teeth.

It reminded you of the very first time the two of you had kissed. It had been a rush of emotions, a sense of urgency, but something like love was what felt most prominent to you. He’d taken you to a beach in Carlsbad, California—one that you hadn't been to before—and you’d climbed down the rocky cliff together, hands entangled, watching as the beds of kelp washed up on shore. That evening, he’d made you a picnic and a beautiful bed of seafood with the freshest lobster you’d ever had. You could tell by the way he’d been acting that he had something to tell you—he kept stealing glances every time he thought you weren’t looking, a soft smile resting on his face. For the first time since you’d met him, Namor looked at ease. He seemed content. You’d dared to ask him.

“What was all this for?” it hadn’t been the execution you’d been hoping for and you found yourself cringing at what you’d said, but Namor’s smile only grew.

“Sometimes, I want to appreciate you—to let you know that you’re the most important person in the world to me, but I don’t know how to say it, so I show it instead.” and you thought that was a pretty good answer but sometimes, you found yourself confused as to why he’d chosen you. Why he spent his free evenings with you. Why he laughed at your jokes and watched your favorite movies and listened to your favorite songs and tried everything you liked.

Suddenly, you'd found yourself overwhelmed with an unfamiliar sensation that brewed deep in your stomach, something akin to want.

“Can I kiss you?” you had asked him that night. You still remembered the date, the song that had been playing and the way his deep, brown eyes lit up at your question.

At his shy nod, you surged forward, grabbing the collar of his shirt and shut your eyes. With the candles glowing beside you, the moment felt magical. You found that Namor was a passionate kisser. He loved to make you feel. You stayed pressed against him even after the sun set behind the trees, cuddling into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms around you, whispering words of love and adornment into your hair as you felt yourself dozing off. That night, when he was certain you’d fallen asleep, in a hushed tone, he promised aloud that he’d never leave you. What he didn’t know was that you’d been awake.

Today, as Namor held you in his arms like you were the most fragile thing he’d ever picked up, he whispered into your hair;

“Ma'atech asab a dejaré, in eek'e' (i will never leave you again, my star).” much like the night your souls had connected for the very first time, he spoke to you of promises you knew would never be broken.

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to leave with him, to head back to Talokan but you couldn’t find it in yourself to go just yet. You couldn’t leave Wakanda without seeing Shuri alive. You didn’t even need to talk to her—you just wanted a sign—something to know she was safe.

“We have to go, in yakunaj (my love).” you were squirming in his arms but his grip was persistent. In the back of your mind, you knew he was right. If you were to stay, you would be dead by sunrise, but Shuri was your friend. You felt you had to know she was okay—that she’d survived the shipwreck.

“No!” you screamed, “I have to make sure she’s safe!” you were no match against Namor and eventually the two of you were pulled deeper and deeper in the water. If there was one thing he knew about you, you rarely gave up. You kept fighting, even if your arms were burning from the excursion of energy your body didn't have.

“Who, in yakunaj (my love).” he spoke calmly, his words calculated. Namor had no doubt you were in shock, especially since you’d nearly just died so he treated you with care, demanding his army to wait until he was there in person before they retrieved you. He had to do it himself.

“The princess! Shuri! She- she was on the ship with me. I don’t know if they survived,” you cried, but you were exhausted, the weight of what had just happened taking a toll on you. You collapsed against your husband's chest, falling into his arms as your eyes closed in unison. Namor pushed a piece of hair out of your face, kissing the top of your head slowly before he signaled for his men to follow him.

He was taking you home.

You dreamt of San Diego from an angle you weren’t as familiar with anymore. Of surfing, remembering the feeling in your stomach as you paddled toward shore, knowing you’d caught a wave. Of your parents and their smiles and the drives the three of you would take together every weekend. Every Friday when you got home from school, your small backpack had already been packed for the trip. You and your parents never had a final destination in mind. You just drove wherever you wanted to. Since you lived two hours from the coast, oftentimes you’d end up in a small beach town with family-owned businesses and vacant houses, all vacation homes waiting for summer when the owners would come visit for a week. You always proposed to camp on the beach but your parents were more keen on staying in a hotel that overlooked the water instead. You couldn’t find it in yourself to complain and on nights when you couldn’t fall asleep, you snuck out onto the balcony and took the stairs by two so you could get to the water.

The beach at night had always been peaceful to you. Since you were the only person there, you could walk as far and long as you wanted but you always made sure to return before sunrise so your parents wouldn’t worry. They always knew where you had been though since there was a sandy trail that led to your bed.

In the mornings, you remembered hating how long your parents would take to get ready for the day. You practically lived in your swimsuit during the weekend and you tried your best not to grow impatient as your parents sipped their coffee on the balcony, watching the waves crash onto shore.

“Mom,” you drew out. “What if I went by myself and swam for a bit while you guys ate breakfast and watched tv.” you had only been seven at the time, barely tall enough to reach the sink to wash your hands but you were convinced you were grown up enough to do this.

“Y/n,” your mother held you close to her chest. “You cannot do everything alone,” what she’d said had stuck with you for most of your life.

You were a rather independent person but whenever you were growing overwhelmed, you reminded yourself of what your mother said.

She always knew how to make you feel better.

When you woke up, you were in Namor’s bed by yourself. You tried to sit up, but your side was still aching from the wound you’d gotten back in Wakanda. That’s right. It was all coming back to you now. You remembered Nakia taking you with her, joking with Riri and sharing stories with Shuri by the water. Shuri. Something akin to failure stung in your chest. You still weren’t sure if she’d made it out alive. You sighed in frustration, staring up at the drawing-adorned ceiling Namor painted during his free time. You were still exhausted from the battle and thought another nap couldn’t hurt, so you shut your eyes and let sleep take over.

When you woke up, you were alone once more, but the side of your stomach was feeling better so you decided you were going to find your husband and get some answers. You had many questions after all.

Wrapping a blanket around your small frame, you headed out into the hallway and started swimming to where you thought he might be though you ran into a small crowd of people who obviously weren’t expecting your presence. Their faces lit up and each of them bowed before one of the men in the front shouted for everyone to hear;

“Le Reina táan u yaajal! Alegrar u (the queen is awake! rejoice)!” he cried, arms in the air as everyone began to clap. Despite being in a hurry, you smiled in their direction and pressed your hand to the man's shoulder. Maybe he knew where Namor was.

“Yuumbo'otik Nib óolal, chéen ba'ale' yaan jump'éel k'áat chi' (thank you, thank you but i do have a question).” you spoke in yucatec. The man nodded with a smile.

“Je'el ba'alake' in Reina. Je'el ba'alake' (anything my queen. anything).” you thanked him and rose your voice slightly, hoping other passerbyers might know the answer if he did not.

“A wojel wáaj tu'ux yaan k'uj ' túun Ku'uk'ulkan (do you know where k’uk’ulkan is)?” you asked him. His eyes brightened and he nodded.

“Mencionó junp'éel múuch'tambale' le tu chi' u asistir bejla'e'. Kun yaantal ichil áaktuno'ob (he mentioned a meeting he had to attend to. he should be in the caves)” the man replied happily. You nodded to him in thanks and took off toward the caves, hoping you’d find a spare water-mask on the way.

Hidden in the shadows of the cave, Namor, Namora and Attuma discussed the war they’d started with Wakanda. Partly, it had been because of your kidnapping. Namor had no idea what their plans were with you and he’d refused to let you become a spoil of war so he’d gone after you himself with his most trusted fighters. Since one of his guards had also been killed during Shuri’s rescue and someone he knew he couldn’t trust knew of Talokan’s location, he had no choice but to attack. It had been many years since he’d gone to battle and he’d never faced an enemy before that harbored vibranium like he and his people did. He’d believe Talokan was the sole nation with access to it for many years before the idea of a vibranium detector was created. That was why he’d convinced himself he had to kill the scientist. If she possessed such knowledge and the likes of the government were after it, he couldn’t let them discover his home.

As their ruler, he refused to put them in harm's way.

Namor knew the size of your heart and what your reaction would be if he’d told you of his plans so he didn’t. Though the risk of it spilling out to you was strong, he’d foolishly thought he’d had it under control until you were kidnapped in the midst of his meeting with Ramonda. Something he couldn’t place was telling him that meeting with her was a bad idea, but he couldn’t decipher why. Maybe it had been because he’d had the scientist and that he’d given her strict instructions to only blow the conch shell if she’d had her, but he went anyway. Attuma told him she likely knew about Shuri being missing and that he had the upper hand—she would want to bargain.

That was why he’d gone.

When he’d gotten back, you’d been gone and he couldn’t help but scream out, cursing himself for allowing it to happen. He’d blamed himself—how could he not? He knew how curious you were. That you were going to get to the bottom of things one way or another. You were a scientist after all, it was in your nature to research—to study the problem at hand no matter the risk.

That was why he felt he owed you now—the protection was already his to give to you once you’d spoken your vows to him but as he watched you breathe in and out in your shared room, tracing the side of your face, he was never going to let anybody hurt you ever again. You were his and he was yours, the binding of your love written in the stars—something nothing could break. He loved you and it scared him. He felt like a child again, so naive yet he had been alive for many, many years. He felt safe with you as silly as it sounded. Someone people often thought of as a god felt safe with a mortal, someone he’d met on land who, despite what he thought, made him feel complete.

Namor wasn’t sure if he believed in past lives, but he was certain the two of you had loved each other once before. People often told him he stared at you like you hung the stars, that in ways, you had. Where he had been serious, you made him smile. Where he had been rough, you held him in between your hands and loved him. You let him be a person, not the great ruler his people regarded him as. He let himself be yours.

He hadn’t been expecting you to burst through one of the many pools in the cave, a blanket adorning your shoulders as well as the pointed-ear jewelry you had been given as a means of respect for him, a way to prove you were queen. Despite himself, Namor smiled and watched as you pulled yourself out of the water, strapping the water-mask onto your face.

Namora and Attuma noticed you and bowed where they were with knowing smiles on their faces.

“In ujo' (my moon), what brings you here?” he asked, wearing the same look of fondness he often had in conversations pertaining to you.

“I think you owe me an explanation.” you said, crossing your arms. You tried to remain strong as you hated confrontation, something Namor knew. He rose a brow, eyeing you curiously.

“For what?” he asks you.

“What did Riri do?” you knew what she’d told you was likely true, but you wanted to hear it from him—you wanted to hear his side.

He looked conflicted but as his wife and queen, you felt you deserved to know the truth.

“No more keeping secrets.” you pushed, hoping he’d give you an answer. Finally, he exhaled and led you to a corner far away from Namora and Attuma so the two of you could have some privacy.

You were surprised when he leaned in to kiss your forehead, but you shut your eyes, basking in the attention. He was a head taller than you so you found you had to stand on your toes so he could reach you. He’d always found humor in the fact that he was taller than you.

“What do you want to know, in yakunaj (my love).” he whispered, his breath hot against your face. The tips of your noses were threatening to touch, brushing against each other as he carded his hand through your hair. Like always, you leaned into the touch, pressing your hand against the back of his.

“What you wanted with Riri Williams.” you couldn’t reach his eyes as you stared at your feet.

“She was the one who crafted the vibranium-detector. If more of those were to be made, it would threaten the existence of our home. I couldn’t let that stand and took it upon myself to find her. The princess of Wakanda just so happened to be with her.” he whispered, using his free hand to hold your chin. He wanted to see your eyes, to look into them so he knew how you were feeling.

Deep down, you knew there had been no other way. Had you been in his shoes as the sole ruler of Talokan, you were sure you would have done the same but still, you felt for her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked you, his lips brushing against yours.

You shook your head, growing limp against his touch. You were still exhausted from the aftermath of the battle and wanted nothing more than for him to join you in bed for a nap but something felt wrong—off.

The air felt stunted, the water on your feet felt strange—cold rather than the warmth you had been used to. You desperately searched your lover’s eyes, hoping he noticed it too only to find that they were closed. He held his head and you watched the goosebumps form up and down his arms.

As you began to ask if we were okay, Attuma approached the both of you, panting and out of breath, his face full of concern and what you thought might resemble anger.

“Ba'ax le jéelo'? Ba'ax ku yúuchul (what is it? what’s wrong)” you asked Attuma, your voice full of worry.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Namor beat him to it.

“They’re coming. Wakanda is coming.”

tag list : @eerievixen @ichigimm @avsphroeg @borderline1bored @gamorxa @zeeader

#namor x you #namor x y/n #namor x reader #namor #arab reader #jewish reader #namor fanfic

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walviemort · 3 years

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Fairy Godfather, part 1

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He's been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: As usual, the muse has gone off and done whatever it wants to do, rather than, y'know, work on a WIP. Alas. The idea for this came about when I sent @sancocnutclub this picture of a woman who was supposedly pregnant with 10 babies; it has since come out as a hoax, but dang—her BUMP. Subsequent doodling and headcanoning brought about this story (also partly inspired by a conversation with SherlockianWhovian a while back), and here we are! I should note that this also takes place after a couple of past one-shots, which can be found here and here. Hope you like it!

rated T / 3k words / AO3

Of all the requests put in front of Killian in his long life, this was by far the oddest.

“You want me...to carry babies...for how many of you?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around the query.

“Nine,” Blue answered matter-of-factly. “Normally, it wouldn’t be so many, but we’re past due for a brood. There was just no one around who we thought could handle it.”

“And he can?” Emma was at his side in the booth at Granny’s, where Blue and Tink had requested to meet with them. Their daughter, Hope, was sitting in the high chair at the end of the table, making a mess of some oatmeal.

“It helps if they’ve given birth before,” Tink replied. Well, he had done that—not intentionally, but he had been the one to carry and birth Hope, who was 10 months old now.

And while it had ended up being a beautiful experience, he obviously had reservations. “Yes, but that was only one baby—and you genuinely think I can handle nine?”

“We do,” Blue confirmed. “And we’d obviously provide as much help as we can.”

“It also wouldn’t be like a normal human pregnancy,” Tink added. “No morning sickness or cravings, or anything like that.”

“No, I’d just be massive,” he sighed; memories of his own perceived whale-like proportions toward the end of his pregnancy with Hope were still fresh; this had potential to put that to shame.

“Well, fairy newborns are smaller than the average human infant—less than 4 pounds. But yes, you would go full term.” Blue was awfully clinical in her statements.

Killian glanced down at his midsection, which had yet to fully regain its previous flatness, and he doubted it ever would. Especially not if he agreed to this. “I’m really your only option?” he asked again. “What about David?”

“It’s too soon,” Blue answered. David gave birth a couple months prior to their daughter Ruth, and as promised, Killian was at his side. However, he’d had to have a C-section, which slowed his recovery a bit compared to Killian’s. “And it must be done at the upcoming winter solstice, or we’ll have to wait another few years.”

Killian was about to suggest that until Tink jumped in. “Plus, you kind of still owe us for the whole hat thing.”

“That was the Dark One and you know it,” Emma snapped back, but they both knew Killian still harbored a fair amount of guilt over that. It was a low blow on their part, but not undeserved.

She most likely saw the acceptance in his eyes when they exchanged a glance, but he also saw she wasn’t quite there. “Does it really have to be a guy?” she enquired, turning back to the fairies. “I mean, there are lots of women here who meet your criteria, too.”

“It does,” they said simultaneously, though Tink at least looked somewhat apologetic.

Emma was ready to protest again, but he put his hand over hers on the table and told her with a look that it was okay. She reclined in her seat while he turned back to the pair. “I’ll agree, but with one condition: you’ll have to help pick up my slack—around town and at home,” he said evenly. He was sure he’d get to a point when it wasn’t feasible for him to continue as deputy, or at the library, or even keep up with Hope, who was dangerously close to walking.

“Actually, one more,” Emma added. “He’s not on the hook for any, like, actual fatherhood, right? You won’t be coming after him for child support or anything?”

“No, he's simply the surrogate,” Blue confirmed.

“And we’ll definitely help out—whatever you need,” Tink added.

Emma gave him a tentative but supportive look. “Then I’ll do it,” he told them.

“Excellent,” Blue stated with less enthusiasm than he expected. “We’ll send you more information soon, but the most important thing is to be at the convent next Saturday. Green,” she then turned to Tink, “come; we have much to do to prepare.” (Which was a polite way of asking her to slide out of the booth first.)

Tink rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’ll text you,” she said, and the two flitted out of the diner.

Killian and Emma were silent for a long moment after they left, other than making sure some oatmeal actually ended up in Hope’s mouth.

Emma started to clean up the baby and then said, “I know it’s too late now, but are you sure about this?”

“Not entirely,” he confessed, “but they were right—I do owe them.”

“You don’t,” Emma said matter-of-factly, “even though I know you think you do.” She wiped the mess off Hope’s face. “But if this will finally relieve some of that guilt, then I get it, and I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, love,” he sighed, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to need it, I think.”

“Oh, you are,” she said wryly. “And you should probably start planning how you’ll tell my dad.”

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, then dragged a hand down his face. “He’s going to be relentless.” What had been playful ribbing during their respective pregnancies was likely about to be amplified.

“Maybe you can talk to Belle? See if she knows anything on what to expect? Pun not intended.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he agreed, then followed Emma as she slipped out of the booth. He pulled Hope from the high chair and settled her in his left arm, then grabbed her diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Guess we’ll pick her brain now. See you later.” They kissed farewell and headed off to their respective jobs that day—Emma at the station, Killian at the library, where he’d taken something of an assistant librarian position (and could keep an eye on Hope and her “cousin” Gideon in between reshelving and assisting patrons).

Belle was surprised when he told him about the morning’s turn of events, but then got an almost academic excitement. “I can’t say I know much about their physiology, and I didn’t know this about their reproduction, but let’s see if we have anything.”

She dove into research while he took care of normal library functions, but by midday, didn’t have much to show for it.

“They’re so secretive! Obviously their existence is documented, and there’s mention of someone other than Blue being in charge at some point in the past, and that their young mature faster than average, but that’s it. What did they tell you?”

“Not much,” he answered, relaying what little he’d been told. “But they did call it a ‘brood’, so it sounds like multiples are common. Just not quite so many.”

“Do you think they’d let me take notes?” she wondered. “It’s not like there's any research journals on magical beings I could submit a paper to, but more for my own study.”

“If they don’t let you, I won’t do it,” he commented. “Do you still have everything from last time?” She’d done quite a bit of documentation on his first pregnancy, considering it was the product of a misunderstood spell.

“Of course; David’s, too.” Then she laughed. “Of all the things I imagined becoming an expert in, magical male pregnancy was not one of them.”

“Someone had to,” he countered.

“That’s true!”

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The rest of the week was fairly uneventful, save for a text from Tink telling them when to arrive at the convent, and to make sure he ate lots of greens and wore something comfortable (which he took to mean stretchy). And they assented to Belle’s presence, too, which didn’t change anything but did make him feel more at ease.

David was something between amused and horrified about what Killian had agreed to, but ultimately glad they hadn’t asked him.

The afternoon of the solstice, before they headed to the convent, Belle took some notes and measurements of Killian as a baseline for her study—and honestly, he was kind of glad, if the proportions on this were going to be as overlarge as he expected. “How big do they make those maternity pants?” he asked Emma as Belle was making note of his waist size (not significantly larger than it used to be, he was at least proud to say).

Emma’s eyes grew large. “I don’t know; I think the fairies are gonna have to help with that one.”

“Let’s hope that’s a ways off, then,” he settled.

They dropped Hope off at Snow and David’s on their way to the convent, where they were greeted by Blue herself. She ushered them in without a word, and a couple other fairies were there to gather their belongings, before Blue guided them further into the building. Killian was both surprised and not to see that they were all in their traditional attire, though he was a bit shocked that they were all still large and not the miniscule size they were known for. Belle had had a similar question a few days ago; they’d ask at some point.

They were led into a large, candlelit room, where Tink suddenly appeared in front of him. “Drink this,” she commanded, holding a mug of steaming liquid, “and take off your shirt.”

“Is that necessary?” he asked as he took the mug.

“I mean, I already know what’s under there, so I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t,” she countered with a wink.

He complied with a sigh. The drink was a potion of some sort, he gathered almost immediately; a warm, tingly feeling took over his body as he drank it, eventually settling in his stomach, which made sense. Weirdly, though, when he removed his tshirt, there was a slight glow under the skin of his abdomen. (Belle was off to the side, furiously taking notes; Emma was next to her, trying to keep a straight face and surreptitiously taking pictures.)

Blue was watching a clock, and when it struck a seemingly random time—the peak of the solstice—she began chanting in a tongue he didn’t quite recognize, with others gradually joining in and forming a circle around him. The glow under his skin got brighter, especially in his midsection, although he didn’t feel any different—yet.

“Human,” Blue finally addressed him. “You have agreed to be the vessel for our young. Do you promise to protect them with your life, and care for them until they are ready to join our world?”

“I...yes,” he answered, as confidently as he could manage. “I will.”

Blue continued briefly in the foreign tongue, as did the others. “Now, let the gravidation commence.”

One of the fairies approached him with her hands cupped as the rest continued to chant; she was dressed all in pink, and he thought he’d seen her spending time with Grumpy on occasion. As she got closer, he saw a small ball of pink light pulsing her palm that she was murmuring to, until she was close enough to touch him.

And she did, guiding the ball of light toward his navel and then—it disappeared inside him as she pressed her hands against his stomach. He felt a small twinge inside as it settled within, but no pain—just a spark. The glow from his midsection briefly took on a pinkish hue, but then returned to the white color it had been emanating.

Each of the nine fairies did the same thing, one by one. He did wonder how it was decided who would be reproducing, given that there were far more than nine fairies present, but that was another question for a later date. They appeared before him in all colors of the spectrum—purple, seafoam, navy, yellow, fuschia—and then Tiger Lily’s deep orange joined the array of hues, followed by Tink’s bright green.

Blue was the last to approach, and her orb seemed to be the biggest of them all, which he supposed was no surprise. However, her hands lingered on his abdomen and she continued to chant, the intensity and volume increasing as everyone’s voices joined in.

He suddenly felt a slight cramp within—still nothing painful, but like his insides were being gently rearranged, which they probably were. Then his stomach glowed brighter, casting all the colors of the fairies whose offspring he was now carrying around the room.

“Gods above, watch over this man; let he be exalted among the fairies, and let no harm befall him nor our bairns,” Blue called out with a sense of finality.

The glow grew brighter, until it was too bright for him to look at, but then was gone in a flash. The fairies gave a collective hum that seemed to resolve the ceremony, and then began to file out of the room, although Tink approached and wrapped him in a soft robe.

He felt...he wasn’t sure. Content, at the very least, but also like he might float away were it not for the sensation of a weight within him holding him down. His hand drifted to his midsection, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was ever so slightly rounder than it was before he arrived; with nine babies in there, he supposed that made sense. He couldn’t feel any sensations of kicking yet, but it was probably too early—and honestly, he still kind of tingled all over. The analytical side of him wondered where they would be considered in their development relative to a human fetus—and if they’d even show up on an ultrasound.

“How are you doing, Captain?” Blue was still in front of him, but in the afterglow (literally) of the spell, he’d lost sense of anything else around him.

“I’m good,” he answered. “Possibly too good.”

Blue gave a small, knowing smile. “That tends to happen. Come, let’s sit; you must have more questions.” She gestured toward the door the fairies had exited out of and then moved toward it herself, expecting him to follow.

Emma was suddenly at his side, and Belle not far behind. “You okay?” she asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“I seem to be,” he replied. “Have I ever told you how bloody beautiful you are?”

She grinned, amused. “Many times. What was in that cup?”

“Potion of some sort,” he shrugged as she started pushing him in the direction of the door. “Why?”

“Seemed like some really potent potables,” she quipped. Yeah, he did feel a little drunk.

He somehow ended up on a very plush couch, with Emma on one side and Belle on the other, sitting across from Blue, Tink, and Tiger Lily. Someone gave him a glass of water, and there was food on a coffee table, but he wasn’t much hungry.

Honestly, he was mostly fascinated with the stained glass windows in the room, and with inspecting whatever was going on in his stomach, until he did hear Belle ask a pertinent question:

“So why men?”

“Well, we’re all women,” Blue answered. “It does take two.”

“But I thought you said he was just a surrogate,” Emma countered. “Are these actually his babies? Because we didn’t agree to that.”

“No, they’re not; I suppose in modern terms, you’d say that we reproduce asexually. But nature still seems to demand the involvement of a man and a woman. So that’s why a willing male carries the brood.”

“Are there always so many?” Belle asked.

“No; usually only 4 or 5. But no one was available at the last solstice.”

Killian didn’t really pay attention to the next several questions regarding fairy reproduction—he’d read Belle’s notes later when he was a bit more focused—but he did eventually get to interject one of his own: “Why are you big right now, though? And why aren’t the babies going to be tiny?”

The fairies chuckled—he supposed his statement wasn’t as coherent as it sounded in his head—but still replied. “Shrinking is an acquired skill,” Tink said. “That’s why we weren’t small when we didn’t have our powers,” she explained, nodding at Tiger Lily.

“But once we learn, it’s our preferred size,” Blue added. “It’s easier to do our job then.”

That made sense.

“So, what else can he expect,” Emma asked. “I know you said it’d be different, but how much?”

“Well, the size, obviously—and you will still gain weight to support that,” Blue explained. “Increased appetite is to be expected, but no cravings or anything like that.”

“Your hormones will be altered, similar to a normal pregnancy,” Tiger Lily added. “But that just helps the body prepare for birth.”

“Bloody hell, what will that be like?” he wondered aloud.

“Nowhere near as difficult,” Blue laughed.

“Wait—if my hormones are affected…” He trailed off, remembering how much those threw him for a loop last time—particularly, certain desires. “I can still have sex, right?”

Emma covered her face with her hands at his blunt question, but it was important.

“Of course,” Blue said plainly. “Do whatever you need to—within reason, of course.”

“Although, don’t forget—you’ll be at least twice as big as last time,” Tink reminded. “At least. That might make it harder.”

More difficult, maybe, but it hadn’t altered either person’s desires the last time around. He turned to give Emma (what he thought was) a salacious look, but she just burst into giggles.

“Just—listen to your body,” Blue finally said. “For everything: rest, food, activity. The spell you drank will last the whole pregnancy and keep things going. We trust you, though.”

“I’ll guard them with my life,” he said, suddenly emotional, covering his stomach with his hand.

“Aaaand there’s the hormones,” Emma commented. “Come on; let’s get you home.”

He was suddenly very sleepy. “Aye; that’s a good idea.”

“Yes, he’s going to be tired the next couple of days,” Blue added. “But otherwise—see you in 40 weeks.”

Emma wrapped her arm around him, said goodbye, and poofed them straight back to their bedroom. He was nearly asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but had one last thing to ask Emma.

“You’ll still find me sexy when I’ve got a big, huge belly, right?”

She kissed his forehead. “Incredibly so. Sleep tight.”

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #fairy godfather #my ff

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

Reach ||| Felix x Reader

Summary: After finding out that you are older than him, you feel like the chances of your crush liking you back immediately go from low to zero in a matter of minutes. But there are a few other things you don’t know about Felix, besides his age that you somehow managed to miss, so not all hope is lost...

Genre: Fluff, angst, with some small bits of humour thrown in Warning(s): Some poor language (inferred: text abbreviations) Word Count: 4329 (+11 photos of fake text) Theme Song: Sing Me - Day6

AN: A request from anon, I’m so sorry it took so long! I hope you like it, it did turn out a bit angstier (and a lot longer) than I originally intended but the fluff I think makes up for it!

~~~

You always felt so giddy and light whenever Felix was mentioned in any capacity in your vicinity. Your heart could never stop pounding at the speed of light, while your stomach was always alive with butterflies, fluttering up into your lungs and leaving you short of breath.

But now, dread slowly began to seep through your body like a poison, the butterflies ceasing up and stuttering. Their corpses fell to the pit of your guts, and those that did not became lodged in your chest and throat, leaving you without air for another reason entirely.

Your fingers numbly opened your laptop and pressed the keys of Felix’s name. You never searched him, you felt like it was an invasion of privacy, especially when he was normally right there within your physical grasp if you so wished to take it (which you never did, you were too afraid to take the leap). But this was something small, and though it was somehow something so huge while being so, you let yourself off just this once. Not that you could stop yourself even if you’d tried.

The screen turned white, the search bar scrolling unnaturally slowly, until finally Google returned your worst fear.

Age: 19. In bold, unavoidable text. As if you were stupid. And you felt as if you were.

It had to be wrong, it had to be. An inaccuracy in results. You’d seen them happen before, whales with four legs and members of other groups being represented by the wrong photo.

You clicked on the first webpage and scrolled, your eyes unblinking, unwavering. And then the second. And then the third.

19.

You pushed yourself away from the desk, your face a stone wall while your thoughts ravaged in your head.

You couldn’t comprehend how you’d been years older this whole time. You’d assumed he was your age, you were on such a similar wavelength that your subconscious hadn’t considered he wasn’t. Meanwhile the irrational part of your brain refused to be quiet. He isn’t even 20 yet, it said, think old you were when he was 18, when he was 17, when he was 16—

It was only three years. It wouldn’t mean anything in half a decade but it still weighed so heavily on your shoulders.

You knew Chan was still messaging you, the light on your phone wavering in the corner of your eye, blurred with brimming tears. The truth was though that you weren’t even crying, not with the rest of your body at least. You didn’t feel like it, the usual energy you had festering and leaving you empty, meaning the tears built up but refused to fall.

All of those beautiful smiles that put the sun to shame and had been directed to you meant little now—only that he probably liked you as his senior, nothing more. There was a chance that he only smiled at you to curry more favour, not because he genuinely liked you. All while the age-hierarchy indicated that all of those texts were probably just him responding to you because he felt like he had to. Even when hope tried to remind you that he didn’t grow up with it, and regularly texted first, the voidful feeling crushed it.

Because, ignoring all of the age-related qualms, you still hadn’t bothered to even ask him how old he was. That surely made you a bad friend, and if you couldn’t be a good friend to him then what partner would you be? You were undeserving of him, and he most definitely did not like you back.

Aimlessly, you moved from your desk chair to your bed, dragging the cold weight of you phone in your hand and letting the screen turn black. As you lay dejectedly upon the covers, your thoughts trailed off to think of the boy you’d fallen so hard and quickly for. His radiant smile that you wanted to be the reason for, his pretty eyes that you always found yourself gazing into no matter how much you told yourself not to, his adorable hands that you just longed to hold... It was as if his features were emblazoned in your mind, and nothing could wash them away, and it only made thinking how these things were out of reach for you now hurt more.

Hearing your phone vibrate by your head where you’d discarded it, you absentmindedly flicked your eyes up to look at the lit screen. Seeing who the notification was from, your fingers immediately opened it up before you could stop yourself, eyes scouring over the messages.

You’d forgotten all about the restaurant trip you had agreed to last week. Everyone was going to be there. Your thoughts briefly turned to rationalising an escape route—maybe if you claimed sick Chan would let you stay home, or maybe if you even told him the full truth he would?

It was nonsense of course, everyone was going, so you would have to attend at least for their sake. Plus, he would always say that moping wouldn’t help after all, and you had to face your demons eventually.

Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from feeling a shedload of regret for agreeing. Even if there was no way you could have known, you scolded yourself for putting yourself in the line of potential damage.

Still, you couldn’t deny how badly you wanted to see everyone and catch up on everything—make new plans, learn new gossip—but you knew if you glanced at him, even just once, you would shatter.

With your mind in turmoil, you felt drawn to the clock ticking away endlessly on the other side of the room. It felt as if it was counting down to an end, though you put a quick stop to your melodramatic heart’s ramblings in this circumstance. You couldn’t focus on the sound for your own sanity’s sake, otherwise you wouldn’t head out at all. Opting to check the time, you spotted that you still had an hour and a half before you had to get ready, if you pushed it. And yes, rushing was not something you preferred, but you’d already made an exception for yourself today so why not another?

You slipped under your blankets, rolling over to face the wall and shut out the world. Gravity played its part and pulled the tears from the barricades of where they’d halted, clearing your eyes so you couldn finally close them comfortably.

You’d get through it. Perhaps things would be ok.

Smooth jazz music wafted across the air in the restaurant much like the rich scents of delicious food from the surrounding tables. With everyone smiling at one another, laughing into their drinks and desperately apologising to the next table over, you’d never felt more out of place.

You’d strategically sandwiched yourself between Chan and Jeongin, praying that this combination would be the most likely to not attract the attentions of Felix. But, to your luck, the person you were so desperately trying to avoid ended up sitting right opposite you. And, to make matters worse, he seemed very intent on trying to catch your eye, send you smiles, and—the worst part by far—talk to you.

Aimlessly picking at your rice with your spoon, you felt awful; not only were you unable to handle the situation quite literally right in front of you, you had practically become a deadweight in the group. Even when Jeongin asked you things, the boy who had grown up so much and never failed to make your laugh with is sass, you could barely muster answers configured of multiple sentences. All the while your eyes were cut off from looking at the vast majority of the room, forced to the confines of the table, your hard left and your hard right.

Soon enough, the time came where Felix finally spoke to you, and god you wanted the word to swallow you whole.

“Hey, Y/N, can you pass me the soy?”

Gulping, your forehead creased as you slipped your hand across to take the sauce from Chan and rigidly pass it across the wood.

He seemed to pay no mind to your wordlessness, replying with a bright, “Thank you!” All you could do was pray that would be the end of it.

But one of the qualities you admired in Felix was his diligence, and it took the form of gentle persistence on this occasion nonetheless.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want to play some video games at some point?” he enquired, hastily adding, “Jisung and I have been meaning to get round to trying out this new multiplayer, and it seems right up your street! The art is really cool, and I’ve already downloaded some of the soundtrack because it’s just that good.”

You centred your eyes awkwardly on your rice, answering as simply as you could, “Sorry I’m busy.”

You heard him chuckle, seemingly completely unfazed, and the sound snapped another one of your heartstrings, “Well, obviously not right now, but maybe, like, tomorrow evening?”

“Y-yeah, busy.” You hated how he quickly caught onto your silence and followed suit, but you also had to be thankful in some shape or form. Maybe you could get this night over and done with, and then get over your crush too and save yourself the majority of the heartbreak that you presumed was inevitable.

However, Felix was not that easily deterred and by your luck—or was it misfortune?—you suddenly saw movement out of the corner of your eye.

Taking the risk and glancing up ever so slightly, your gaze met the sight of your crush leant in over the table. His head was cocked cutely to one side, the feathered tresses of his fringe effortlessly accentuating his features, his hand reaching towards you carefully without a particular aim other than to try and show something. He’d inclined over to try and reach you, and you had accidentally fallen right into him, your eyes catching his and he smiled.

It wasn’t fair. Those pools of rich chestnut had held you and very nearly broken every single one of your defences. Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Are you ok?” he asked, and you could only stammer incoherent phrases, your cheeks heating up as you tried to hold yourself together.

There were many reasons why you had fallen so quickly for this boy in particular, like his resilience as mentioned earlier. Though another one of those things was his selfless kindness, and it had arisen to bite you: of course he would notice your silence, your crestfallen expression and worry. “Y/N? Do you feel sick? Do you want to get some air?”

Unable to respond once again, emptily swaying your spoon in a half-empty bowl you heard his voice at a strange distance. You didn’t snap back into focus, and only then barely so, until he continued, “Come on, lets get some air.”

Head empty and crowded at the same time, you looked up without fully understanding why. You could only rationalise that it was to see the sight of Felix sending a nod to Chan to your right, before asking Changbin to shift a bit so he could get through. Your heart lurched at it, the amount of care he offered you gnawing at your lungs.

Before you knew it, Jeongin was helping you stand, and you were out from around the table, following Felix a few steps behind.

Your focus once again settled on him and him alone, even though you’d promised yourself before you arrived to never do so again. You wanted to believe that he did all of this because he liked you back, that he’d fallen for you just as hard as you’d fallen for him, but you’d convinced yourself he was just extremely kind—and he of course was, therefore meaning that the story was all tied up and set.

Nevertheless, there wasn’t much that could have prepared you for what followed.

The cold hit your face and knocked the daze out of you, and you suddenly felt very awake, as if you’d fallen face first into a pool of ice cold water. Having stepped out onto the balcony, you had been plunged into the night with little to protect yourself with. Hence you wrapped your arms around yourself as best you could, drawing your jacket closed as your eyes surveyed the street just metres below.

The lamplights were warm against the navy of the night, and the few people that were still out dappled in and out of the shadows. You let your mind wander as to where they were going; a graveyard shift, out to a party, home. You wondered if any of them had someone waiting for them, a love they couldn’t wait to see and hold again after a long day out. The thought sent a pang through your heart.

The change of scenery had successfully distracted you from the person who had both directly and indirectly led you into it, but you couldn’t exist painless forever. You had to confront him now.

It was Felix who spoke first, though. Before you could even turn around, his voice, deep and sweet, danced across the breeze. “Hey, do you feel any better?”

You nodded simply, lips pressed together as to avoid anything stupid and sudden.

He sighed, a sound filled with relief but also an edge of something else. “Ah, that’s great. You do look it... the light’s returned to your eyes a bit.”

The wind buffered around the nearby buildings, a police siren wailing in the distance, catching your attention to the junction at the end of the street. Turning your head away from him, you shivered at the cold, listening intently to it fading away into the hum of the traffic.

“I guess you found out then,” Felix began suddenly, a car horn making the both of you jump.

“Found out what?” you asked, keeping your head ducked low as you turned back towards him.

You heard him pause but remained afraid to glance up. He hesitantly shuffled on his feet. “Th-that I have a crush on you.”

The world continued; the traffic bustled along the mainroad, people hurried along the streets, dogs barked at nothing.

But to you, everything went silent. Dead quiet. No wind, no clatter of shop gates, no mildly drunken yelling. Just your heartbeat, beating harder by the second, and the sound of your crush’s nervous breathing.

You looked up at him at last, to see his face obscured by his arm as he rubbed the back of his neck idly. He moved it away eventually, revealing his head downturned as yours had been just moments before.

You stood transfixed as his voice wavered, knocked by the wind as he attempted to explain, as if he needed to rectify a mistake. “I-it’s ok, I don’t want to ruin the friendship now, I—uh...” he broke off as he swallowed thickly, and you noticed that his cheeks weren’t flushed from the cool air, but rather from the tears that were welling in his eyes. “I want you to know that I’m so happy with being just friends, and... I really hope I haven’t made you feel awkward around me and—I’m sorry I...”

You found it so cruel of the world to make his eyes glisten as if they held the stars when they cradled tears. It was a form of twisted irony that he didn’t deserve. But it was the final straw that made your heart snap.

The spring of tension and worry and fear uncoiled as you reached across the deck for him, pulling him into the care of your arms. You were taken aback by how neatly they fit around him, how perfectly he rested against your chest and how his nose nuzzled into your neck.

“No, it’s ok! Shh, don’t be sorry, you have no reason to be sad. Please don’t be sad,” you found yourself whispering, your voice so fragile that it no doubt was carried away by the wind as soon as it fell to his ear.

You rubbed your hand soothingly across the mid of his back, the other tracing up to his hair and stroking the tresses there. Meanwhile, Felix remained confused. he longed to sink into your touch, his fingers gripping at your jacket being proof of that, but he couldn’t bring himself to relax.

“What...? Why are you...?”

A smile slowly rising to your lips, you didn’t waste a second.

“You haven’t ruined anything, I’d be so happy with being friends with you too, but—I like you Felix, I have a crush on you too...!” you rushed, pulling away to hold him at arm's length. Upon seeing his shining, wide eyes and his puffed, pouting lips you sighed in relief. Reaching up, you cupped his face in your palms, like you’d wanted to do for so long. “God, I was such an idiot...!”

“No, you’re not stupid!” Felix emphasised, barely coming to terms with your confession himself.

Though you nodded desperately, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “But I am. I thought you didn’t like me back.” It was then that reality decided to hit you full force, the sound of the rest of the world returning to yours as you exclaimed, “Oh my god, you like me back?!”

“Y-you like me back?!” he echoed, hands fumbling at his chest before finally gaining the courage to come to your shoulders instead. There he delicately ran his fingers across your shoulders, as if to check if you were even real. “Why—why wouldn’t I like you back?”

“Because you’re younger than me!” you said, “I didn’t think you’d see me as even viable, like, I thought you saw me as only a senior to you and that...” You gazed into his eyes, no longer cradling stars but rather glistening with the gold from the restaurant behind you, watching as they widened even further. “Why would I not like you back?”

“Because you’re older than me! I thought I wasn’t cool enough for you, and that you only were nice to me because you had to look out for me!”

His answer forced an astonished laugh out of both of you, and before you knew it the pair of you were in borderline hysterics. Felix fell back to cover his mouth with his fist, walking an aimless circle as you merely bent over, hiding behind your palms.

“We’re so stupid!” he announced, his eyes wide and incredulous, all the signs of tears long gone.

You sank your teeth into your bottom lip as you knocked your head back up, staring at him incredulously as you shook your head. “At least we both are.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, returning to you, his hands reaching for yours, “we can be dumb together.”

“Exactly, it’s merely proof that we belong together.”

You didn’t think your words through then, but any fear was met with strength, as Felix showed no sign of disagreement—rather the opposite, gently caressing your hands in his before you finally interlocked your fingers. Back together, only inches apart, you were once again in each other’s solace, stood against the auburn haze of the city night and the cold it brought.

“I don’t want to be friends with you anymore,” he murmured, the brightest grin on his face as he glanced to your lips.

“Neither do I.”

Desperately trying to keep yourself together as the proximity and the intentions of both his and your words, you leant in until your foreheads met. There you welcomed the grace of the small touch with your whole heart, wondering if you would reach out to what you had dreamt of.

With your eyes closed, unable to take in the sight of his soft beauty, you took in the scent of him as his deep voice caught your attention. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes!”

Your words barely rolled of your tongue before the final gap had been closed between you and your lips met at last.

His kiss was not what you expected; it was soft yet deep, as if he wished to instil final proof that he meant everything he’d said. You couldn’t help but melt into him, your hands drawing away from his own, only so you could loop them behind his neck. He mirrored you, his hands finding the small of your back, and pulling you closer as you pressed into him.

Perhaps this time the world did stop, to momentarily regard you and the kiss that summarised all the feelings that had lingered in your soul for months. After all, it was a resurrection event too, as the butterflies’ sparks reignited, sending them spiralling throughout your body and you back into radiant life.

It didn’t matter to you though, as your world stopped and that was all that was important in that second. Just the feel of his lips soft and plump between yours, and the hum of absolute relief that mottled through your throat at the touch.

You pulled apart with a gasp from both sides, still entwined with your arms.

Felix cursed, smile immediately returning to his features.

“What?” You cocked your head inquisitively.

“It’s so cold,” he said, exaggerating a shiver playfully to emphasise his point.

You rolled your eyes at him with a chuckle, stepping away but instantly taking his hand into yours. It was a decision of mixed results, as yes you were holding his hand, but now you had to come to terms with just how tiny they were and how devastated that made you.

“Hey, stop ogling my hands!” he pouted.

You perhaps would have pressed the matter if you weren’t still dazed by how quickly everything in your life had changed for you. You swept your head back, before pulling your best Australian accent, “You don't like me ‘cause of my personality...”

He immediately caught on, the two of you immediately wailing, “Only ‘cause my body!”

You continued to laugh together as you made your way back inside the restaurant, grateful to be in the warm again.

“Honestly, I try to be nice to him one time...!” Felix said, pursing his lips as he shook his head.

“I know right! And he just throws it right back...!”

“Terrible hyung!”

“Hundred percent!”

As you turned the corner to where your table was, you only just caught sight of Hyunjin looking over in your direction before he suddenly shouted.

“Finally!”

Confused, you took the lead, “Hey, sorry guys, I hope we weren’t gone for—”

All of a sudden you were confronted with seven guys sighing and sinking into their chairs with relief. Changbin was rubbing his eyes, Minho had his eyes centralised on the ceiling, all the while Jeongin was grinning wildly at Seungmin, a hand outstretched and beckoning for something, to which the elder was desperately miming for him to cut out.

No answer came to mind until you noticed Jisung exasperatedly smiling at the two of you, or more specifically your interlinked hands.

Glancing at Felix, silently asking him if he knew about this to which he shook his head bemusedly, your attention was taken away by Chan who had stood, making his way to the both of you.

“At last,” he stated, his features folded into tired relief, “praise the lord, I was starting to think we were going to need divine intervention—”

You heard Minho pipe up behind, “By divine intervention he means me!”

“—but thankfully we didn’t. God, I’m just happy that you finally did it.”

“Thanks...?” Felix looked at him sheepishly.

You exhaled a laugh, bringing your new boyfriend a little bit closer to your side—something he of course didn’t have a single gripe with—ahead of catching Chan’s attention. “Bang, what is all of this?”

He pouted. “Hey! You can’t get mad at us for being sick of you two! Imagine having to watch two obviously-in-love people dance around the in-love-with-each-other part for months. It was driving us insane!” Before you could interject, the he continued, “It doesn’t matter now, we’re just happy that you’re together now at least. And look! Because I’m a good leader I’ve moved myself out of the way so you two can sit next to each other.”

Unable to quite comprehend this further development, that the entire group had been anxiously waiting for you to get yourselves together and confess for as long as you’d literally liked each other, you murmured a ‘thank you’, before beginning to make your way to your new seats.

Your food was inevitably cold, but neither of you minded at all. The rush of newfound love had sated your appetites rather enough for tonight, though you expected you could go for one more thing.

Ignoring the bustle of his group mate’s comments, and the rather proud smile of Chan opposite you, you turned to Felix, “Hey, do you want to share some ice cream?”

The look on his face made your heart flutter instantaneously.

It was as if the sun had risen, his pretty smile gleaming while his nose scrunched sweetly. “Yes please!”

Knowing his favourite flavour of the top of your head, you sat back and let Hyunjin call for the waitress so everyone could order desserts. Even when the others spoke to you, and even though you felt even more alive than normal, you always found yourself looking back to Felix, taking in the sculpture of his adorable face that you now could hold between your fingers if you so wished.

He meanwhile got shy under your gaze, smiling to himself as he looked away coyly.

As you leant in to whisper how adorable he looked in his ear, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Taking it out swiftly, your heart swelled as you read the message upon your lockscreen. Sending a thankful grin to the man opposite you, you quickly turned your attention to detailing your order to the waitress.

And at last, things were much more than ok.

~~~

AN: ok so this took longer than i imagined (like a solid 4 hours at least, idek i wasnt actually counting)

the irony is i actually wrote that felix’s age was 20 until i luckily checked and found he was still 19. i’d forgotten to count that his birthday hadn’t happened yet but. yeah. proud stay moment.

apologies for any poor quality ss, my phone hates me

i hope you enjoyed anon and so again for the wait!

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toshis-puppycat · 4 years

Text

Hello Again Part Four

A/n: so… hi. I’m back and well I’m back in class too (off campus thankfully), but I have like maybe 2 semesters left now??? Idk I just know I’m like 91% done with my bachelor’s degree. I figured since I got some time why not put part four out there. And don’t worry Unfortunately will be updated soon too so keep an eye out 😉 I made myself sad writing this but I hope yall enjoy.

Summary: Shouto and you have a talk about Endeavor and well you’re not happy about that, and well you’re still not ready to talk to All Might. Its a whole mess right now. Thankfully Aizawa might give you something else to focus on. Let you ignore your problems help others.

Word Count: ~6k

☆☆☆☆☆

Part Four

“Hatred is in your blood! You are Endeavor’s son!” You heard Yoarashi yell at Todoroki. It made your blood boil a little. He was not just Endeavor’s son and you could practically feel Todoroki’s rage at Yoarashi’s words as well. Was he really letting his hatred for Endeavor get in the way of him getting his license? Yoarashi was still yelling at Todoroki. His “cold-blooded father”? Jesus how much did he fuck up before you came back? It seemed like children who weren’t even related to him hated his guts. You ran until the injured bystanders were safely away from the chaos.

“Everyone! This should be far enough. We can put up a barrier to keep these people safe and make sure none of the villains can enter!” You yelled at the other candidates, they all nodded and proceeded to make a barrier with their quirks and a few made sure to guard around them. Keep the injured safe and make sure they can safely be led in. But first. “Deku! There was someone else still there with Todoroki and Yoarashi! We need to get him to safety.” You said to the younger boy. He nodded his head, determination being the only emotion you could see. You held back your flinch. He has the same look. Was your only thought before you immediately pushed it away. Now wasn’t the time. You both ran back to the area Gang Orca was in, seeing the rush of flames being pushed by the wind and headed straight for Shindo!

Deku, thank god for him being able to run faster, quickly picking up Shindo and running away. Not before looking at the the two who almost let Shindo be burned and going, “Dammit. What are you two doing?!” You felt the same. But pushed away the anger, and quickly prepared yourself for him to make his way back so you could heal Shindo. Watching him hit the floor, made you wince. You could make sure he was okay and then heal Shindo from any brain damage he could have at this moment. You hear Yoarashi scream, Gang Orca decided to take care of them now you supposed. You’ll help them after Shindo, no doubt that Todoroki would be next. But you saw Yoarashi falling. He was so high up before, and now he was falling too quickly. You used your quirk and shot water forward, making sure he could be caught and safely brought to the ground. You couldn’t heal him until you were closer though. That had to do for now. You could see the sidekicks quickly coming to the area, Deku and Shindo were close enough for you to heal him!

“I’ll take care of this.” You heard him say before he put his hands on the ground and made the ground quake. Stopping the villains from coming any closer. You quickly ran to them, placing your hands on him and have your quirk do its magic.

“I thought you couldn’t move because of his blast.” You heard Deku say. Shindo gave you a look at the feeling of your hands on his arm, he wasn’t as tense anymore.

“My extremities are still pretty numb, but I’ll bounce back. Soundwave aren’t that bad. Not much different from my vibrations.” He lost the pained look on his face. “So I’ve built up a pretty good tolerance to them. Might be the first time I’ve been thankful for that recoil. Anyway. I was trying to get a surprise attack in on that whale! And those two first years ruined it.” He said, looking beyond frustrated. Izuku just looked a little taken aback.

“Shindo you were out before they came to the area. Do not blame my students.” You said calmly.

He looked a little sheepish at you calling him out, but continued, “I’ve tripped the henchmen. Now you make sure they’re out of the game. We’ll split up and get the remaining injured to the shelter.” He said, you could see Deku get those familiar green sparks around him before quickly running through the ruined area.

“Okay Shindo do you need to be healed anymore? Or will you be okay? I know you may be used to it but I can still heal you if needed.” You said, but then a burst of wind and fire rose from the area that you knew Gang Orca was with Todoroki and Yoarashi. Shindo nodded.

“I should be alright, thank you.” He looked more relaxed. You saw your students quickly running to the area as well, they surrounded the henchmen nearby. You helped Shindo get on his feet.

“We need to get you out of here. You’ve done enough. There are others here to help now.” He almost scowled at you, but the look you gave him left no argument. And you two left as quickly as possible to the evacuation area. It looked like most of the HUC people were evacuated, the test would be over soon. When you two made it to the area you heard a buzzer sound.

“Um, yeah, so, at this time, all of the HUC members who were deployed have been rescued from the disaster zone. It may seem anticlimactic, but with this, the provisional licensing exam has officially been completed. After we tally the scores, we’ll announce the results here in the arena. Anyone injured should go to the infirmary. The rest of you are free to change clothes and wait wherever you like.” Mera said, you gave a sigh of relief.

“Okay, time for you to go to the infirmary.” You said. “And no, you’re going. I can’t heal everything ya know.” You smiled at the younger hero, he gave you a tired look. You helped him to the infirmary and quickly dropped him off, you needed to change into more comfortable attire.

☆☆☆☆☆

“Okay. Everyone. Thanks for your hard work in todays exam.” Mera began, you all looked towards the podium. “Now, before I announce the results. I should probably explain the way we evaluated you. Between the HUC, and those of us at the Heros Public Safety Commission, we had a two-fold demerit system that we used to determine your total scores. In other words, we were evaluating you based on how few mistakes you made in a crisis situation. Anyway, the names of those who passed are listed here in alphabetical order. Keep my words in mind as you search the screen for your name.” Mera continued, moving his arm towards a large screen, the names automatically flashing up. You quickly searched for your name, finding it fairly quickly. Y/l/n Y/n. You felt yourself smile, you did it. You could hear all of the students exclaiming in relief. It looked like they all passed! But then you felt it. The frustration coming off of Bakugo and you quickly searched for his name in the list. Bakugo, Katsuki wasn’t on the list. As you searched, neither were Yoarashi, Inasa or Todoroki, Shouto. You almost winced at the yelling that occurred with Yoarashi and Bakugo. One being frustrated with himself and the other… well he was very upset that he didn’t pass. Todoroki seemed to be lost in thought after noticing he didn’t pass.

“Todoroki.” You heard, Yoarashi walking to him. You held yourself back from walking forward and just watched as the two staired at each other for a moment before Yoarashi bend down in apology slamming his head into the ground once more. You moved forward in that moment, wincing as Todoroki moved back in shock. “I’m sorry!” Yoarashi yelled. “Its my fault you didn’t pass the licensing exam. My focus was too narrow minded. Forgive me!"

Todoroki had a passive look, before softening slightly. He looked ashamed for a moment before saying, "You’re fine. I was the one who got us off to a bad start.”

“But, still–!”

Todoroki cut him off, “And thanks to the things you said to me, I have a lot to think about.”

Ashido was shocked at the fact Todoroki failed, you felt so proud though. You missed so much of this kid’s life and he’s already learned a valuable lesson. The personal feelings had to be let go, in order for someone to be who they want to be. Then you remembered you forgot to heal Yoarashi, he was already gone, probably headed to the infirmary instead.

“So, next we’ll give you the printouts of your results. They include a breakdown of your scores, so you’ll know exactly what areas you need to improve going forward.” You could hear the excited chatter of the students around you. “Y/l/n.” You heard, turning to face the member of the HPSC. He handed you the paper. You looked it over. Not many points were taken off for you it seemed, but to be fair you know how to deal with civilians and how to keep villains away. The few years of experience you had before coming forward helped you more than you’d like to admit. “We lopped off points when you did something wrong. Fall below 50, and you were done. These demerits are itemized on your results forms, as you’ll see, so I’d look at them.” You could hear Iida saying something about being thankful for the evidence about what to improve on. “Anyway, moving forward, those of you who passed can exercise the same authority as pro heros, but only during emergency situations. Except of course the one who just needed to renew their license. In other words, fighting villains, saving the victims of criminal acts or accidents. You may act using your best judgment, with no direct orders. Keep in mind that your every action from now on carries with it a deep responsibility toward bettering our society, and that the world is watching you. I’m sure you’re aware that All Might, our greatest hero, no longer has his incredible power. One of the reasons crime in this country has been so low is due to his presence. With that deterrent gone, criminals are sure to become bolder and more widespread. Expect the balance we currently have in our world to be destroyed, and for things to change quickly. You young people will be the hope for our future. It’s imperative that you become exemplary heros. That your reputations grow to suppress crime as did his. Remember, the license you earned today is provisional, and you still have much to do, except for the one who renewed theirs of course. I would like for you to think of yourselves as fledglings, and be even more diligent in your studies. And as for those who fell short and did not pass. We don’t have time for you to feel bitter about your loss. Instead, we offer you a chance to redeem yourselves. After you attend a three-month-long special course and pass an individual test, we plan to issue a provisional license to those of you who failed as well.” Mera said, you could hear all the students who failed cheer at the revelation. Mera continued on, “In order for us to reach the idyllic future that I just spoke of, we’re going to need as many good heros on the streets as we can get. The first round was one to weed people out. But we would like to grow the 100 selected in that test as much as possible. That’s why we watched you all until the end. So we could see for ourselves that you each have promise. That once your shortcomings are corrected, you have the potential to be as great as your fellow classmates. This special course will keep you busy, as it will run concurrently with your normal studies. You’re welcome to retake the exam in April if you prefer to wait.” You could hear Bakugo yelling “Oh, like hell!” And turned over to look at Todoroki, Iida and Midoryia said they were rooting for him. These kids were one step closer to becoming the heros they wanted to be, and you were going to be able to watch them grow.

☆☆☆☆☆

You all received your licenses. You were stopped by Mera just before you left, he asked you if you could attend the event for the next hero rankings along with perhaps the extra lessons for the students who failed. You were a good hero, and they wanted to honor you and well it might help students seeing you there, you took the test with them after all. You smiled at the man and just said “There’s no need for all of that, I’m happy to go. But I must decline the offer to honor what I’ve done. It was my job, and I wouldn’t have done anything differently.” They accepted and you confirmed your attendance for both events. You walked out, seeing Aizawa and Ms. Joke just outside talking. Joint training would definitely be a good idea. You saw Midoryia excitedly ask a shiketsu student about their training, you smiled. He’s a great kid.

☆☆☆☆☆

The students were gathered in the common room, excitedly chattering and talking about how classes would start the next day.

“Everyone, make sure you don’t stay up too late tonight and well. Celebrate a little if you’d like. I’ll be in my room if any of you need me.” You said, you saw Yaoyorozu and Iida nod at your statement and smiled at the two. They’d know when to come to you thankfully. You left for your room, but not before hearing Bakugo tell Midoryia to meet him “out front later”. It made you pause for a second. You needed to talk to Aizawa about that. Bakugo went through a lot already. A slime villain attempting to kill him, being kidnapped at the training camp. He needed some help, his explosive personality could only excuse some of his reactions. Todoroki stopped you just before you entered your room. You looked to him, and he gestured to the room, silently asking for permission to talk alone. You let him in. It was time to have that conversation. You hoped it wasn’t as bad as you could feel it was.

☆☆☆☆☆

It was bad. He told you everything. How his father married his mother, how he married her for her quirk and you’d never felt so disgusted with yourself and with him. You asked him about Rei and he said that it just seemed right and he wanted to just be married. You should have known. But then his son told you the true purpose, creating the perfect child. One that would defeat All Might. And you felt so furious. How dare he? How fucking dare he do that to his family? Like he didn’t remember the immense pressure his parents forced on him. It startled the younger boy when you fell to your knees in a bow. Apologies coming from you with no stop. You looked up at the young boy, the child who had been failed by you and by his father. You were furious, but you pushed that emotion down, along with your feeling of self depreciation. You really just believed him. That easily, because he was your childhood friend? Father was right. Even with that quirk, you’re a stupid girl. You asked Todoroki if you could also apologize to his family, he looked a bit shocked. Not expecting it perhaps? But you felt responsible, after all you should have known he was acting fishy when you found out he was married through another source instead of him. Todoroki only said it wasn’t your fault, giving a small smile. He did appreciate it, and said he would speak to his siblings about you. If they even knew about you. But it seemed like he was happy to have you on his side, and that you believed him over knowing his father since childhood. You let him out of the room, and after he left you wept.

☆☆☆☆☆

It was after curfew, and you knew when everyone went to bed with being so close to the common room. Bakugo and Midoryia were going to talk. But you weren’t so sure about it being a good idea at the moment. You have to tell Aizawa, you started making your way to his room. You caught Aizawa just after he left his room thankfully and walked with him to the doors. The both of you bumped into All Might as soon as you exited the building,

“All Might?” You asked, your voice didn’t crack nor did you feel any tears coming forward. He looked startled for a moment. Like he forgot that you were there or that you also lived on campus.

“Ah, Aizawa, Y/n.” He said, you just nodded in response. You tried to ignore the feeling in your chest. It wasn’t the time to think about it but, well, it felt a lot like heartbreak.

☆☆☆☆☆

You were avoiding him, he wasn’t stupid. He could tell something changed. You weren’t around him anymore, you’d happen to leave the room to do something when he would enter. It was obvious you knew that you two needed to talk. He wanted to beg you at this point, he wanted to pull you close and beg you.

“Midoriya and Bakugo. Why am I not surprised to hear that. I understand they’re at the practice field.” Aizawa said.

“Yes I wanted to catch you before you went. I’ve known those two since before they came to U.A. And I’ve given the pair quite a bit of thought. Will you leave them to me for now? I’ll bring them back.” All Might asked. Aizawa nodded and looked at you, the two of you were going to get the two boys but now…

“I’ll heal them when you get back.” You said. And he had to leave, you weren’t going to walk with him to get the two students. He’ll try to talk to you after everything is taken care of. After All Might left Aizawa gave you a look and sighed.

“What did you need to tell me?” He asked after All Might left.

“I believe Bakugo needs therapy.” You began, walking back inside.

☆☆☆☆☆

It took them a while to get back. Must have taken a while to find them and be able to stop their fight. You should’ve gone and helped him- you stopped the thought. You winced looking at the two boys wrapped in Aizawas’ capture weapon.

“You fought the night you finished the preliminary hero licensing exam? I’m glad to see you two have so much energy.” He said, and boy were you glad you graduated 20 years before this. Aizawa would’ve popped a blood vessel.

“Aizawa, wait, hold up with those restraints. It’s my fault that they spared in the first place.” All Might said, and Aizawa gave him a look that screamed what the hell.

“Your fault? And how it that?” He asked, All Might moved forward, to whisper in Aizawa’s ear. After he was finished whispering, Aizawa let his capture weapon loosen and it fell from the two as you allowed your quirk to work. They weren’t terribly injured thankfully. “I understand that they felt they had to break the rules. But this isn’t something I can just ignore. There must be a suitable punishment. Who threw the first punch?” He asked.

“I did.” Bakugo said, he sounded pissed and tired. You didn’t give any look to the two boys.

“I also went pretty hard. It wasn’t just him.” Midoryia said.

“You’re both on house arrest. Four days for Bakugo and three for Midoryia. During that time, you’ll clean all the common areas in the dorm, morning and night. Plus, I want a written apology.” Aizawa said, pulling his capture weapon away completely. “Y/n?” You turned to face him

“They weren’t injured much. Just scrapes, I just had to clean them.” You said. Then you turned to the two boys once more. “If either of you are injured, or if a previous injury hurts, please, let Recovery Girl or I know. And we can help you.” The two boys nodded at you.

Aizawa sighed, and All Might finally let his hands fall to his side. “That’s all! Go.” He told the two boys. And they left. You were about to leave the room as well, but All Might stopped you, grabbing your arm gently. It left you two alone, you weren’t ready for this. Not now.

“Y/n-” he began, but you cut him off, you still weren’t facing him.

“We should really head to bed now. It’s late and classes start back up tomorrow.” You said.

“Y/n, we need to-”

“I can’t.” You said, your voice cracked a little, and the barrier you made was cracking, slowly crumbling. If he tried talking to you, well you don’t think you could handle actually hearing him say that Midoriya is his kid or that he was with someone and didn’t know how to tell you. Or didn’t want to tell you yet. Hearing your voice crack made him let you go, and you quickly left the room. You didn’t let any tears fall until you were in the safety of your room. You didn’t sleep that night.

☆☆☆☆☆

There was one good thing about your struggle with sleeping regularly, you were able to do some research on what kind of heros Toshinori and Enji were like. Toshinori was, of course, one of the best heros, he was number one as long as you’d been gone, a symbol of peace. Enji was number 2, and well… he was a good hero. He was good at his job, he caught villains. But… you thought he’s so angry. He looks furious when he’s fighting, and what if he’d injured the people around him? It’s like he doesn’t care. The top searches even pointed it out to you. The people thought he was terrifying, they didn’t like him. Again just how much did he fuck up for people to dislike him this much. He’s always had a temper, one that you excused for a passion. One that screamed, I want to protect people. But now… watching how he worked… it wasn’t passion. It was just a bad temper that’s gotten out of control enough times for the public to know and well fear it. I need to talk to Todoroki. I need to get his siblings out of that house, away from their father. You thought of leaving your room and making your way to the school building. You just saw Iida feeling “the dilemma of being a class rep”, poor boy. Then you saw another student antagonizing your students.

“I heard a little rumor about Class 1-A.” You heard him begin, “Two people! You had two people fail the licensing exam, you losers!” He yelled, and he looked a little crazed.

You heard Sero say his name was Monoma. And Kaminari said he was “just as unhinged as usual”. Your students antagonize him as well, Kirishima saying he must’ve been the only one to fail in his class just like in their final before you came. He didn’t actually all of class 1-B passed their licensing exam. It made you proud, even though you didn’t see anyone’s growth.

Monoma’s gaze was on you now. “And a new student who wasn’t even in your class! Even she passed!” He started, and it looked like he was going to continue but you cut it off before he could.

“Class 1-B good job on getting your licenses.” Most of them beamed at the praise. “And I’m not a student. I’m a pro hero, that’s an assistant at U.A for the time being.” You said, then you looked towards the Monoma. “Monoma, I do hope you understand that being a hero isn’t a competition. And if you think of it as that, maybe you shouldn’t be a hero.” You said, he winced at the tone and so did the rest of class 1-B. All you could even think about with that was Endeavor. A competition. Saving people isn’t a competition. One of his classmates cut into the conversation thankfully, having a harsh statement thrown at him needed the distraction anyways.

“Accordin’ ta teacher Vlad, we’ll have classes together this semester– doesn’t that sound like it’ll be fun? I’m looking forward to it.” She said, smiling. Her posture took on a cheery form. It was adorable, until you saw Monoma whispering in her ear. Her posture changed again into a more “lets go!” pose and she said “Touch me and I’ll pummel you till yo mama doesn’t know ya.” You noticed Monoma laughing nearby and sighed, closing your eyes a bit. At least Aizawa knew what would happen with his class. The laughing stopped and another student in 1-B said “stop filling her mind with crazy.” God you were too tired for this apparently. You moved forward to the classroom. You weren’t going to go to the assembly they were having, so you just stuck with preparing the classroom, whatever needed to be done.

☆☆☆☆☆

“Okay, starting today we’ll resume our regular classes and training schedule. I know a lot has happened recently, however, you need to switch gears and focus on your school duties. We’re lecturing today, but this semester you’ll have even harsher training than before.” Aizawa stated, Ashido said something to Asui but Aizawa just said “Like to share, Ashido?” Interrupting the girls question. Asui interrupted Ashidos’ panic though.

“Excuse me, sir may I ask a question?” You started spacing out, only coming back to when Mic entered the room. And Aizawa pulled you away.

“Y/n. I have to ask you for some assistance. There is a case I’m going to be working on with other pro heros, and we may need you on hand for defense and healing.” He began, you followed along just nodding your head. It’d be good to do something like this. Get the hang of everything again.

“I’d be happy to help Aizawa.” You said, and he nodded.

“You should meet with Nighteye soon then. He’s the one at the head of the planning.” He said, and you nodded.

☆☆☆☆☆

“Y/n sensei?” Todoroki called out that night. You looked over to the younger boy. “My sister asked if I could come over tomorrow. And she said father asked if you could come as well.” He said and you nodded.

“I would love to go, Todoroki. Thank you for letting me know.” You said, and he nodded back.

“Thank you y/n sensei.” And with that he left to go to his room.

Well, seems like you’re going to be beating Endeavor up much sooner than you anticipated.

☆☆☆☆☆

The next day you got ready. You wanted to look nice meeting the Todoroki siblings, they didn’t know you, and you really wanted to make a good impression. And well let them know they could come to you for any help against their father. You exited your room, making your way to Aizawa.

“Hey, Aizawa. Todoroki and I will be leaving soon. We’ll be back before curfew.” You said, he nodded.

“Todoroki let me know as soon as his sister asked.” He said. You both heard footsteps and turned to the source, it was of course Todoroki.

“Y/n sensei, Aizawa sensei.” Todoroki said after he popped up, the younger boy nodded at you. It was time to go to a dinner you supposed.

☆☆☆☆☆

“What should I call them?” You asked suddenly, you should’ve done it before you were suddenly in front of the Todoroki household, but well. Things happened.

“You should just ask them what they want to be called.” He said calmly. But you could tell he felt a bit jittery about being back so soon after being at the dorms. You placed your hand on his shoulder and smiled.

“I’ll do that then. Remember, you’ll be safe with me here.” You said, and he gave a small, very small miniscule smile and nodded at you. The door opened, his sister, Fuyumi, was standing behind it. She brightened seeing Shouto.

“Shouto!” She cried out, immediately pulling the younger boy into a hug. “It’s different without you here.” She said, he relaxed into the hug. It made you smile. Then she noticed you. “Ah, you must be Ms. Y/l/n?” She asked. You nodded in response.

“Hi, I’m sorry I couldn’t meet any of you sooner but…” you trailed off. You did kinda just get thrown 20 years forward. She just nodded and reached her hand out.

“I’m Fuyumi.” She said. Oh thank God.

☆☆☆☆☆

The dinner was so awkward at first. No one was talking, Natsuo was glaring at you, while Enji just looked pleased to have you there. Poor Fuyumi and Shouto looked awkward and you could practically feel the questions they wanted to ask. Who are you? Why didn’t father talk about you (which you couldn’t answer, God this was a disaster) Natsuo broke the silence and it made you want to die.

“Are you fucking our father?"

You could hear the three other people choking with you at the question, you turned towards Enji and well he didn’t look like he’d deny it right now. Because of the choking.

"I’m more likely to fight him.” You said when you stopped choking, Shoutos eyes widened, Fuyumi looked panicked. Natsuo almost brightened at the comment and you turned towards your childhood friend. “How about after dinner we show your kids what an old man you are?” You asked him, he looked mildly insulted. Shouto looked at you, you could tell he almost felt pity for his old man. Almost.

☆☆☆☆☆

You knew they’d all been in this room at one point, for their “training”. And now you were in there, preparing to fight your childhood best friend, a friendly spar of course. Just like you used to. Unfortunately, for him well. You were very upset learning how he treated his children. His three children. They didn’t need to do anything other than what they wanted and he twisted it like his parents twisted him.

“Remember don’t hold back old man.” You said, looking at Enji. Natsuo looked incredibly excited, Shouto looked like he was going to finally crack a full smile and poor poor Fuyumi looked a little panicked. You smiled at them and gave a cheeky grin. He bristled at that. And suddenly the fight started. Quirks were allowed, because you said you had the best quirk to protect them, creating a barrier around them was easy for you. He made his first move (as always, he was never very patient) throwing fire in your direction which quickly fizzled out when you brought up water to counter it and then he basically charged at you. It was like this for a while. Until finally he was charging at you again and you jumped over him, quickly landed on his shoulders, and you wrapped your arms around his neck as best as possible and threw yourself backwards, using your quirk you made everything shift slightly, like all the liquid moved to one side (like when blood rushes to your head, that’s how you always remembered it) It left him off balance. This moron really forgot your true specialty, didn’t he? After all, the body is at least 70% water. You were both on the floor and you had him in a choke hold. “Yield!” You yelled at him, the water covering his children went away drenching him so he couldn’t bring his flames to burn you in any way, leaving him sputtering.

“I yield.” He ground out. Teeth clenching. He was pissed you beat him apparently.

“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” Natsuo yelled, quickly coming to where you two were. “I’ve never seen anyone beat the old man before!"

It made your blood boil, you gave a sharp look to him, hiding it behind a tense smile. "It’s been a while, you haven’t gotten creative while I was gone old man?” You said, it sounded teasing. Like you weren’t mad at him too, but you knew he knew that you found out what he’d done. Natsuo helped you up, just as Fuyumi attempted to help their father up. She’s very sweet.

“It’s been a while since I’ve had a good spar, y/n.” He said, and you almost brizzled at the comment. Yeah when you try to beat the shit out of your kids that happens.

“We should talk, since it’s been a while. And Shouto can spend some quality time with his siblings!” You said, purposefully being extra cheery. Natsuo grinned, quickly pulling in a dazed Shouto under his arms.

“Yeah, we don’t mind spending some time with little Shouto.” He said, Fuyumi smiled. And they walked away just like that. You turned to your childhood friend.

“We should go to your office.” You said simply. He gave a terse nod and began walking. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation.

☆☆☆☆☆

You were pissed and when you made your way inside, that happy smile you usually wore was absent. It made him remember how you were before you both attended U.A. before you softened yourself up and became more approachable. It was devastating to see that look on your face again.

“So are you going to tell me why two of your kids hate you? Or am I going to have to tell you why?” You said, you were barely holding back your rage at him. “Do you want to tell me why I recognized the look all of your children have when they look at you Enji?"

He pointedly ignored that part. Recognizing a look? You must be insane to think that.

"Y/n-” he began.

“Don’t you fucking dare Enji.” You snarled out. “Don’t you dare look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t abuse your children!” You yelled out finally crying for his family, he took a step away from you in shock. You were crying. You didn’t cry, you wore a smile and held back the negative. You were always like that after you started at UA. You were strong. But now you were in his home office, crying. “I thought, I thought that when either of us had kids. That we agreed Enji. We said we wouldn’t be our parents for them. And what I learned? You saw everything and said, ‘mother and father were right’ and you-” you cut yourself off, you stopped to take a deep breath to calm down. You felt so much anger blowing up at him but now it was just disappointment. “You wonder why your children hate you Endeavor? The way you raised them. Attempted to, for three-”

“Four.” He said, cutting you off and you looked up alarmed.

“Four?” You whispered. “You… I cannot believe you."

He gave you a condescending look before speaking again. "The first three were failures. But then Shouto was born and when he turned 4 he could control my fire and her ice, he was the perfect blend to be the future number one-” you interrupted him with a slap to the face. Both your hand and his face were an angry shade of red, and there was an emotion he couldn’t recognize in your eyes.

“You wonder why they hate you, Enji? It’s because you raised them like that. All that hatred builds up. And then you’ll be left alone and vulnerable.” You said, you were tired, disappointed and done. “People told me you were an angry, bitter person Enji. They looked me in the eyes and said you were going to be an angry bitter man.” You said, turning away from him. “I thought they were wrong.” You looked over your shoulder at him, eyes red from the tears. “You saved me when we were younger, Enji. But now I have to save your children. And I have to save them from you.” You said, opening the door and furiously wiping away your tears. “I hope you’re happy, Enji.” You walked out, using your quirk to destroy any trace you had of crying. You had a job, and your job was to be strong and to protect people, to protect everyone who needed to be protected. The people in this world who can smile are always the strongest. You remembered the little boy who told you what his mother said, you remembered the furious tears. And you remembered why you wanted to be a hero. But it was disappointing to see that Enji- no… Endeavor lost his reasons. But you just took another deep breath and smiled, you had to make sure you and Shouto returned to the dorms safely.

And when you did return to the dorms, you didn’t see the beeline Shouto made for Midoryia, nor did you hear the whisper of “Midoryia she made my father eat the floorboards of the training room, I think I love her.” As a choked sound came out from the boy who was cleaning. You were just trying to keep yourself together, keeping a non-threatening smile on your face. You had to be strong. That night you slept. There were no pleasant dreams though.

☆☆☆☆☆

The next day passed quickly enough, and Midoryia was allowed back, already apologizing to everyone when you entered the classroom. Aizawa thankfully started the class before he could do more.

“Morning. Now that Midoryia is back, we’ll go into more detail about what the work studies entail. Go ahead and come in.” He said, turning towards the opening door. “I’ll have people who’ve experienced them firsthand explain. I suggest you carefully listen as they point out how work studies differ from internships.” You could see Midoryias face, he looked quite shocked seeing the students. Must’ve seen one of them before, you turned to Aizawa, looking at the three students. “These three are third years at UA. They rank at the very top of our student body. You may know them as the Big Three.” He finished, two looked at you curiously, while one looked like he was trying hard to not be noticed, while he snuck a glance at you. You smiled at the three, two gave you a blinding one back while the third gave a more timid smile back. It reminded you of being apart of the Big Three yourself. Just you and- you stopped the thought. Not today.

☆☆☆☆☆

Taglist: @saratour, @yukiimanic, @theygottheircages, @itsallmightbitch, @toobsessedsstuff, @quirkyfandoms, @anxious-cat-with-cheesesticks, @traqicalromance, @waitwhatsrealityagain, @mugiwara-no-angel143

#all might x reader #bnha fanfiction #one-sided Enji Todoroki x reader #the reader beats Endeavor in a fight #reader also calls Todoroki by his first name so he gets a bit 🥺#also whoops I included angst

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

The Fate of Thundersub Two

Title: The Fate of Thundersub Two

Author: Gumnut

5 Jan 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: You can push it only so far. Episode tag to 3.19.

Word count: 1920

Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for 3.19 and future episodes of season 3.

Timeline: Immediately after 3.19

Author’s note: This was quickly written with no brain and reflects the quality of my lack of cerebral functioning at the time. I literally killed off sleep to write this because I’m supposed to be writing my other fic. But we have an episode tag :D And hopefully I can sleep in a little tomorrow since it is nearly 2.30am at the moment. I hope you enjoy this anyway :D

Many thanks to my wonderful supporters, you know who you are. ::extra big hugs::

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Hiram Hackerbacker was a patient man. Science requires patience so it was to his advantage to have as much of it as possible.

However, having co-existed with the Tracy family for many years, that patience had often been tested, and today was another one of those days.

He had been in the midst of fuel calculations for the Zero-X. They had hit a snag in the weight and energy expenditure ratio and he was reduced to having to create a lighter, more energy efficient fuel. This required molecular calculation and design, something which involved a great deal of concentration.

To have John interrupt him to say that Virgil had taken Thunderbird Two for a swim yet again was enough to throw all the calculations out of his head. “W-what?!”

“I’m sorry, Brains, but Virgil needs your help. Two is on approach and her systems are experiencing intermittent failures.”

“Th-that’s because she is n-not a submersible.”

John shook his head. “Rescue called for it and you know Virgil. Whatever is necessary.”

Brains sighed. “V-very well.”

John smiled at him before switching the feed to Thunderbird Two.

“V-Virgil?”

“Hi, Brains.” There was considerable guilt in his fellow engineer’s expression. “I have VTOL failure in two out of four engines and I suspect her port rear thruster isn’t going to last much longer. I may need to crash land.”

Brains bit back on a curse. “Have you t-tried the auxiliary p-power relays?”

“Yeah, no go.”

Switching the feed to his phone, Brains strode out of his lab and ignored the door that slammed behind him. “Where are Gordon and Thunderbird Four?”

“FAB2.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t want to risk him. And, well, he had other concerns.”

Brains frowned as he stormed into the comms room. Scott was glaring at him and the duplicate hologram of Virgil hanging in the middle of the room. Brains ignored him and pulled up Thunderbird Two’s status.

He groaned.

“Virgil, you know as m-much as I that you c-can’t land her. Her secondary c-computer core is flooded, her p-primary core is well on the way to joining it. It is a m-miracle you are still air-borne. In fact, you should d-ditch her into the ocean as s-soon as p-possible before the decision is t-taken from you.”

The hologram of the second eldest Tracy sagged. “Where?”

“T-two hundred m-metres from the island m-minimum. We will r-recover her.” Virgil’s expression was tragic. “I promise.”

Beside Brains, Scott straightened. “Virgil, that’s an order. We can’t risk you. I’ll launch Thunderbird One and assist.”

Virgil glanced down before obviously steeling himself. “FAB.”

Scott’s lips tightened and he nodded at his brother before loping up the steps and disappearing into his chute.

Moments later, One erupted out of the pool deck and disappeared to the south in search of her crippled sister.

Brains shivered.

And waited.

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy knew how to swear and at this moment he was exercising every piece of profanity he could bring to mind.

Brains was right. Two was going to fall from the sky, it was only a matter of time. His dash was screaming at him, a new red light and alarm added every few minutes. This would make it the third time he would have to fish his ‘bird out of the ocean.

She dropped suddenly as her port thruster sputtered, her flight path skewing as her forward thrust struck out of balance. Shit. Goddamnit.

“C’mon, Two only a hundred or so kilometres and we’re home.”

She sputtered again.

And her port thruster died completely.

“Shit!” His girl swung around in an unbalanced turn, weight and thrust completely out of sync.

It was a terminal spiral dive. There was not a damn thing he could do.

Didn’t stop him from trying.

She ignored him.

The ocean and sky began to spin.

A solid thunk on her hull, a screaming roar, and her spiral slowed, her altitude and direction corrected...and the blue of auto took over her controls. “Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two, I have your control...what little you have. Compensating for your thruster failure. Virgil, bail out.”

“Scott-“

“Now, Thunderbird Two!” His brother’s voice stood for no argument.

Defeated. “FAB.”

He threw his chair back and yanked out his emergency jet pack from the overhead locker. He secured it to his baldric and harness, and with one last look at his beloved cockpit, stepped onto the platform and sent it up through the overhead hatch.

The roar of One assailed him through his helmet, the wind a buffeting aggravation.

“Virgil, move your ass, she’s about to hit!”

And the ocean was far too close for comfort.

He triggered the jetpack and shot up into the sky.

Just as his ‘bird hit the water.

It was spectacular.

And heart-breaking.

One disengaged before impact, accelerating out of harm’s way. Scott had killed Two’s remaining thruster, but her speed was too fast and as her nose caught the water, the momentum differential between forward and back, flipped her head over tail.

Virgil gasped as her belly was exposed to the sun and she hit the water like a breaching whale.

His heart attempted to beat itself to death against his ribcage.

With little more than a bubbling sigh, his girl began to sink below the waves.

No.

“Deploying inflater bags.” Scott’s voice was protocol. Over comms specifically for Virgil, it was reassurance.

Yellow appeared in the water below and the bags rose, somewhat awkwardly as they were deployed from the now underside of the upside down Thunderbird.

But his girl was floating and not disappearing into the depths.

He let his breath go.

-o-o-o-

“Thunderb-bird T-Two is not a s-submersible!”

Gordon jumped as Brains’ angry voice hit him. He had hurried back the moment John had told him that Virgil had crashed his ‘bird. Of course, the Indian Ocean was a fair way away by sub, so it had taken him quite some time to make it back to the Island without the assistance of his cargo carrying brother.

After docking Four, Gordon had the unpleasant experience of discovering Two in her hanger. The puddle around her and behind her where she had been dragged in by the heavy duty pods punctuated her condition loudly.

Thunderbird Two wasn’t going anywhere for quite some time.

“Lives were at stake.” Virgil’s voice was strained.

“Yes, including yours.” Oh great, Scott was in on this. Though, to be honest, where else would Scott be in this situation? “You could have killed yourself, Virgil. Either in the water with the freighter or when you crashed your own ship.”

“You ordered me to ditch her!”

“She was going down anyway! You would have been killed!”

Great. There it was. Scott had had the shit scared out of him again. How many times had his eldest brother been faced with Virgil crashing his ‘bird?

Too many times.

Gordon sighed and took that last step into the comms room.

Someone had to save his brother from his big brother and the resident genius engineer.

“Hey, guys.” All three turned to stare at him. “Virg, you okay?”

A single nod. Well, as okay as a Tracy brother could be when their ‘bird is in pieces.

Brains’ turned back to Virgil. “R-repairs are going to t-take some time. Time we do not have l-leading up to the Zero-X p-project.”

“I will work on repairs.”

“V-Virgil, you d-do not understand. Th-thunderbird Two’s frame was w-warped in the collision. She is s-tructurally unsound. She n-needs a new hull. The plane in the hangar is only g-good for sp-spare parts.”

Gordon’s heart sank as Virgil stared at Brains.

“I-I’m s-sorry, V-Virgil. Thunderbird T-Two needs to b-be rebuilt entirely.”

Virgil was still staring.

Gordon was doing a little staring of his own. “How can International Rescue operate without Thunderbird Two?”

“I’m a-afraid, it will h-have to m-make do.”

Virgil was still staring at Brains, his expression caught in shock.

Scott looked a little stunned himself, but his eyes kept darting between the two engineers.

Until Virgil sat down hard on the couch behind his heels.

“Virgil?”

But Virgil had buried his face in his hands.

It was a matter of strides before Gordon was sitting beside his brother. “Hey, Virg. We will rebuild her.” His hand landed on a tense shoulder.

Virgil didn’t respond.

-o-o-o-

The next few days were quiet for Brains. Mostly because he was tackling the fuel design problem and not having much luck, so consequently had locked himself in his lab in order to focus on the problem.

It was the fourth day after the demise of their cargo carrier before he saw Virgil again. The pilot had disappeared into the villa and the few times Brains had surfaced for food or been physically dragged out of his lab by Sally Tracy, Virgil hadn’t be anywhere to be seen.

He did know that John arrived down from Five on the second day and late one night as he was stumbling to his rooms, Scott and John could be heard having a very loud ‘discussion’ in the comms room. Brains knew better than to interrupt that. When the Tracy’s argued, there was usually enough passion in the room to set the furniture alight, not to mention random engineers who might accidentally get in the way. So he went to bed and ignored it.

But on the fourth day, Virgil appeared in Brains’ lab, eyes a little bloodshot and demeanour tired. Brains didn’t realise he was there at first. It wasn’t until Virgil reached around him and asked him about the fourth variable in his equation, that he realised he was being watched.

“Oh, V-Virgil. H-how are you?”

“Fine. Just on the hunt for some J-12 threads for Four.” A frown. “What are you doing? Is that praeline oxide? Are you trying to bind it with neutrozine?”

“Yes. W-we need an increase in fuel energy with a r-reduction in mass.”

“Why?”

“The Zero-X fuselage is too large to b-be launched at current r-ratios.” He threw up the design hologram for his fellow engineer.

Those bloodshot eyes frowned. “You’ve based the design on the original Zero-X.”

“M-most certainly. It was the m-most efficient d-design.”

“But it is not working.”

“No. We have d-different mass require-ments to the original d-design and, so far, I have been unable to compensate.”

Virgil spun the hologram around on its axis. A slight frown and he pulled out his phone, stabbing it with his finger.

“Cahelium would lighten the load, perhaps enough to stick with the current fuel.”

“We do not have enough p-processed cahelium in store and n-not enough t-time to refine more.”

Virgil pursed his lips and stabbed his fingers at his phone again.

An undefined expression flickered across his face. Voice quiet. “Yes, you do.” A swallow and he held up his phone. “Cannibalise Two.”

Brains stared at the hurried calculations and his eyes widened. “Yes. That is perfect!” He scribbled down the numbers into his tablet. Within moments he had cross referenced the resources and added up exactly what he needed. Two would tip the scales. He could also possibly use her structure as it was. It would speed up production. Of course, with her damage, he would need to check her integrity thoroughly.

If only he could use Three as well, he could incorporate her strength here. That would require extra thrust there, but then Three had that strength already.

The calculations piled up in his head. By the time he had come up with a feasible design, Virgil was long gone.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #TAG Spoilers #tagspoilers #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Hiram Hackenbacker #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #episode tag

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oohh-honey-honey · 4 years

Text

All’s well that ends well- Chapter One: In which Eden has no plans, nor ever will

Summary: “Without a ruler,” Eden had once said, “The word turns to anarchy.” What he failed to mention, is what happens if the rulers are the cause.

Ao3

The story in which everyone dies, a revolution fails, and it all turns out okay.

Ships: Eventual roceit, background moxiety

Chapter warnings: Mentions of being eaten alive, mentions of murder, general fear of the king, falling off high structures, mention of shooting someone, anger at the main character, accidental misgendering, a character is picked up without consent but he’s alright with it

Word Count: 2076

@wingedsoulmatedreamer

They all die in the end- though we cant say if it was their true demise. Not by sword fights, hungry land whales, the unfortunate number of tall structures people seem to fall off of, or the tyrant king's guards. No, all in this story are united and destroyed by one factor alone, and nothing else; The idiocy of Eden Viper Anwir. This is, of course, how Eden survives it all.

Many scholars debate exactly when people began using bovine as a somewhat more polite synonym for stupid, though it's widely agreed that it was within the years of Eden Viper Anwir's life. Before that, they might have used dense, simple minded, dull, but it was when the shepherds son fell out his window that the population really began to relate those of small minds to cattle. Ironic, considering Eden did fall into a heard of cattle. Or, perhaps, where cattle had been. A truer statement would be he fell into a herd of cattle dropping. This was not recorded, though the way a passerby cackled and shouted, "Look at that idiot! Bovine and dumb, 'e must be!" was (It was one of the most reference accounts in determining the time frame of the word). To which they received a rather rude gesture from Eden. He stood, brushing off the manure and looking cruelly up to the window (that seemed to stare just as cruelly back) at which he had just fallen out of. Eden was acutely aware he could have used the door of his house, though that small thought was diminished as he remembered his father working at his desk, who would surely have seen him leaving had he not gone out the window.

Of course next time he might want a better way to get back in. Future-Eden would likely love to shoot Past-Eden for the trouble. Although guns did not exist yet, nor did Future-Eden. (Scholars often reported the invention of guns was in the 10th century in China, although it had actually been in the lost city of Atlantis roughly ten years prior. However, it was exactly then which the city sank and thus their invention was never brought to light.)

The bar was a hole-in-the wall place in every sense of the word, to the point that the only way to enter is was to quite literally climb through a hole in where the old food cellar had once been. It still would be a cellar, had the owners not been taken and murdered by the king. No one had taken the offer to buy it, so the building was covered and ignored until Patton Arrows had found it. Soon enough, it became a safe haven for anyone in need. The homeless, the cursed, fugitives of the crown. It was a nice spot, if you knew where to look. Not many did.

All the patrons glanced over warily as Eden entered. There was always a worry of the kings guard finding the bar. There was a collective sigh as they all returned to what they had been doing. Or, should I say, all but one. A person made of fire who stormed over, lighting at their feet as they faced Eden, "You bastard!" "Lovely to see you, too, Virgil," Eden dried off his coat, hanging it on the back of an unoccupied chair. He stepped over to the counter and jumped to the other side. Grabbing a bottle and leaving a few coins, he turned back to the fuming Virgil.

"You bovine, unbearable, bastard!" Perhaps a bit more than fuming, "Where were you the past four nights? We've been worried sick!"

"I see you've found a thesaurus," Eden took a sip from the bottle, savoring the bitter taste for a moment. The person across from him placed their head into their hands. There was no time to question it before arms were picking Eden up in a hug,

"Eden! We've missed you!" Patton's joyful voice boomed from behind. The hug squeezed him tighter than seemed altogether necessary, sending him into a coughing fit,

"Binder, Patton, let go" Eden sputtered out. He was quickly dropped by Patton, who stepped back meekly,

"Oop! Sorry, kiddo! Forgot about that little thing," He still smiled just as bright, helping Eden to his feet. Patton 'tsk'ed at the bottle Eden had been holding, swiping it away from him before he could grab it again. Eden hissed and grabbed for it to no avail. Patton towered over him, anyway.

Patton poured a glass for himself and Eden and got water for Virgil, who didn't drink despite spending the better part of their days in a bar. He sat back onto a stool. Eden's eyes flickered with curiosity,

"How do you both feel about murder?"

Virgil quirked an eyebrow, "As in, would we like to commit it or die from it?" they paused, "Yes to both, why?"

"No!" Patton grabbed Virgil reflexively, "If you die, I will, too."

"If?"

"Yes."

Eden coughed to bring back their attention, "I mean to kill the king,"

The group all stopped. Virgil and Patton glanced between each other. Eden's eyebrows twitched, curious to their hesitance.

"You don't think we should? He's been less a monarch and more a tyrant over this land for--"

"Yeah, yeah, save your lecture. I agree just... Do you have a plan?" Virgil questioned,"

"Well I--"

"Any means to get into the castle?"

"Maybe I-"

"Anyone else in on this?"

"That's exactly it!" Eden spoke through clenched teeth. "I need your help! Come on, Patton?"

The bartender stepped back, "Well, I- uh... Y'know, I think it's a good idea!" He curled into himself, "But I think it's just that: an idea."

The world froze for Eden. He glanced with ice in his veins to the two in front of him,

"You're kidding." There was no answer, which only helped to raise the goosebumps on his arms, "You have to be kidding! You can't- So, what, you plan to just-" Air thawed around him as Eden huffed and grabbed his jacket. He began to storm out, "Fine! If you want to live complacent with this life, be my guest!" If there was a door he would have slammed it.

A fair was going on. Something was always going on. A fair, a festival, a parade. It was a good distraction to the public, albeit an annoyance to those not as pleased with the sounds and lights. Eden found himself biting at ravens wings, leaning passive-aggressively against a withered tree,

"Do you plan to lean passive-aggressively against that tree, or socialize like a normal person?" A sultry voice asked beside him. Eden moved the hood of his cloak just enough to see a handsome stranger just at his left. He stared with amber eyes into Eden with a strange sort of purpose. The man seemed to be looking into him, opposed to the more common way of simply looking at a person. It unnerved him,

"Oh! How could I have been so foolish?" Eden faked a gasp, "Because of course I like to busy myself with the events of a normal person,"

The stranger offered a hand to shake but not a name,

"Well then, could you at least give me something to call you?"

Eden didn't shake it, "I like to keep it for myself, actually."

They laughed, "Oh, I just might like you, sir no-name,"

"But is that feeling mutual, Mr...?"

"Mx. Roman, actually,"

Eden smiled. Now the handsome stranger had a name, he turned ever so slightly to face them, "No last name?"

"I can hardly guarantee you a first," They grinned, clapping their hands together, "Now! You finally decided to look at me,"

Eden scoffed, "Trust me, Roman, I've seen you this whole time. With a face like that, you're hard to ignore."

Romans face reddened, hidden by the orange firelight, "Oh," they chuckled a bit, "You jest, of course."

Eden sighed, "If that's how you would like to take it, then sure."

"Do you ever say something without an aura of vague-ness, lies and dolls?"

(Scholars were long confused by this, before remembering the age-old fairytale of pies and dolls, popular in the 1360's.)

"That truly depends on who you ask,"

Roman sighed, "I'll assume a no."

Without much hesitation, Roman pulled Eden from the ground into his arms bridal-style (Although, scholars might say that style of carry was made much later. Humans, however, are well aware that style of carry has long existed prior to the dates given. Hence why scholars are often wrong.) much to the man's surprise. He jumped, hanging on to Roman's neck and squirming,

"Have anywhere to be, tonight?" they never let go.

"Yes, Of course I--"

Roman saw through the lie, "Like the man who decided socializing was too good for him has many plans." They hummed, all together too happy, "So unless the king has a bounty on you, I'm taking you to Thomas'."

He couldn't argue. The only place Eden would have to go is back home, and current-Eden regretfully remembered past-Eden deciding to leave the problem of getting inside up to him. He would shoot that guy, if he could. There was no choice but to let Roman do as they pleased.

No that he particularly disliked the idea.

As it turned out, "Thomas'" Was an animal sanctuary. That "take in creatures unfit for the wild and give them a home!" the brochure said in a far to happy tone.

"Thomas and I go way back- He was a castle guard when I was just a kid, y'know." Roman explained, "But later he decided to open this sanctuary."

Eden nodded, taking in the sight of the place. It wasn't in the worst of shape by any means, although it wasn't in the best, either. Eden traced his hand over the cracks in the plaster, grimacing at the dust that settle on the tips of his fingers, "Definitely seems to follow health codes,"

Roman laughed without humor, "Yeah, well, the king doesn't seem to think this place deserves funding," They held bitterness in their voice, beginning to lead Eden through, "Doesn't stop people from doing what they can to keep this place going. Gosh, don't know where they'd go. All the animals, I mean. The wolves and land whales and dragons and all--"

"Whales?" (Although it was never acknowledged by scholars, Eden's phobia of whales existed at age seven and well into adulthood. The scholars deemed this an unimportant, and this is why you do not trust scholars.)

Roman nodded, seemingly confused at the reaction. Eden, who suddenly decided he didn't particularly fancy being around such horrid creatures as land whales, pulled back. Roman looked oddly to him, stepping towards Eden. They held up his hands, "You won't even see them, fibber on the roof." Their voice assured, "And, trust me, you're going to want to come with me."

"Because you think I fancy being fed to the whales?" Eden hissed in response. He stepped back again. Roman sighed,

"Just trust me."

Ah, yeah, trust a person he just met and was abducted by. sounds great.

A door behind them opened. Someone stepped out, lighting up seeing the pair,

"Roman!" He grinned, "And who's this?"

There was a beat of silence. Roman probably expected Eden to introduce himself.

He didn't.

"A... friend! He's a friend of mine,"

"Oh!" There was a strained sort of hesitance in the mans voice, "Are you sure he... Oh, well I mean does he support...?"

He gestured vaguely. Roman nodded,

"I'm quite sure he does! And have I ever brought an untrustworthy friend before?"

"Seven times, Roman," The man deadpanned. His smile returned, opening his door wider and beckoning them both inside the room.

It was dark. No windows, the only source or light being a fair few candles set on a table. It was small. Seven people could fit, though only five stood there now, including Eden and Roman. The table held papers covered in illegible notes and scribbles and unsightly doodles at the corners. If you took more than a look at the place, it would bring a vague feeling of fear that Eden had long ago grown accustomed to.

He briefly wondered exactly what he was doing here with a crowd of strangers. The man seemed to read his mind. He stuck out a hand for Eden to shake,

"I'm Thomas Sanders!" He grinned,

"We're planning a revolution."

#deceit sanders #ts deceit #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #ts virgil #patton sanders #ts patton #roman sanders #ts roman #roceit #moxiety

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ocean-taste · 5 years

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Surrender to the Sun (Jasper x OC fluff) STEVEN UNIVERSE

SUMMARY: Amber lives on her own on an island close to Beach City. Her life changes when Jasper washes up on her beach, quite soon after she begs Lapis to take her back.

WARNINGS: Just a fluffy kiss.

Had she known what awaited on her on that beach, the same beach she walked on every day – where something new waited for her, I suspect she would’ve turned around, and walked far away. For she was now a woman of routine, she didn’t mean to be, that was what she had become, and when there was something new – often it wasn’t pleasant. Or at least, that’s what she had come to believe.

But in this story she didn’t walk away, she did anything but. After she pulled down the flag that evening, her dark green eyes laid upon a figure in the sand below her. A fish? Or a whale? Maybe some trash from Beach City had washed up on her lonely shore, whatever it was she went to inspect, and soon became horrified to see it was a human figure facing lifeless on the sand.

“Oh my god! Hello?! Are you okay? Can you hear me!”

Quickly she shook the figure, it was large and full of muscle, and heavy to lift as she pushed the person so they were lying on their back. So heavy in fact, she found herself falling on top of them.

“O-Oh my gosh I’m sorry-“

“She doesn’t want me.” Lifting her head she saw the person, was in fact a woman. Facing upwards vacantly in the sky, her amber eyes somewhere far away.

“What? Um, I’m Amber, what’s your name? Are you hurt?”

“She doesn’t want me.” The woman’s deep voice sunk even lower than before, Amber stared down at her confusedly as she still laid on the woman’s chest, though clearly the woman was too strong to mind or even notice.

“She doesn’t want me.” Amber’s heart broke a little when she listened to the woman’s voice break; as soon as tears began to form on her strong face she hid them with her arm. Biting her lip fiercely as she forced back the tears and croaks.

“I’m useless, disgusting, worthless, no wonder she doesn’t want me! But I’m nothing without her! I don’t want to be on my own again!”

“H-hey, you’re not alone.. I’m here aren’t I? C’mon,” Hesitantly, Amber placed her hand on the golden woman’s cheek, making her jump a little at the touch.

“What’s your name? Let’s start there.”

“…Jasper.”

“Jasper. Okay. You’re soaking wet, you’ve got sea water in your eyes even.”

Jasper held back a smile as the human girl used the ocean as a disguise for her tears, she didn’t know her at all but somehow she knew she didn’t want to owe up to the fact she was crying.

“Let’s get you dry and warm, c’mon. It’s getting dark.”

~ I had that dream again, where I told that big orange lug how I had come to feel. It has been playing on my mind for some time now, when I finally realised what I’ve been feeling. The dream replays in my mind constantly, but it always ends before Jasper could answer – a typical cliché. Because I knew what she’d say: she belongs to someone else.

It took me awhile it’s fair to say to discover I held romantic feelings towards her, as we’ve always been close. We kinda had no choice in that matter, she washed up on my beach one day and I was as isolated as they came. With only a boat ride once a month coming with my groceries from Beach City, I was all on my own on my little cliff, and that’s how I liked it. Until now of course. We didn’t warm to each other immediately, but she knew she needed some help even if she didn’t want to admit it and I was curious about her, having little to no contact with people I wondered if a gem would be any different, and she was – she was better.

She had a natural admiration for new things and how they worked, whenever she thought I wasn’t looking she would show her curiosity with beaming golden eyes with the most stupid, but most adorable look on her face. When she’d catch me looking she’d clear her throat and ask what such a strange object was, and I’d tell her it was a toaster or something silly that has long since lost it’s magic for me – a boring human. But not to Jasper, that little toaster meant the world for a little moment – that’s when I knew, I was falling deeper and deeper.

“I-I’m.. not good enough…”

I turned my head to see the big orange giant I adored, having the same nightmare again. Though Jasper didn’t need sleep she’d put herself into it just because there was a chance she’d see her again.

I clenched my sheets as I brought my knees to my face, trying to bury myself away from the resentment I felt. Jasper told me everything. Though now I think she regrets it, and pretends she never mentioned it. As she did burst emotionally to me when we first met, though I don’t think she meant to. I just happened to be there to listen.

“I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER!!!” The woman screamed again as she punched her fist into the waters. Her large fingers sinking into the sand like the tears that streamed down her face. Again and again she’d punch the waves of subdued waters that had once kept her prisoner, but they remained unaffected by her passion.

“I’M NOTHING!!! I’M NOTHING-“

Slap.

Jasper breathed heavily as her vision returned to her. Indeed the slap was weak, Jasper was one of the strongest Gems back in homeworld - any normal strength being was like a fly to her, and yet something still dared to test her. She turned and saw a human. Staring down at her with fiery green eyes.

“Shut up!”

“Y-you.. YOU DARE TRY TO SILENCE ME?” Jasper tried to push herself up but her arms still felt so heavy and her legs refused to stand. Being under such pressure for so long, her body felt like lead. It was only moments ago her strength in her arms returned.

“I hate people like you, that’s why I moved away from everyone. Yet here you are, on my beach. Punching water.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Jasper croaked as she swung her arms at the human, though she was kneeling she tried to land a hit but they only stepped back, making her fall face first on the sand again.

Jasper spat at the golden dust that itched at her fangs, it tasted like her. The salt. The water. All of it, was her in some way. Jasper loathed how she was feeling, Jaspers’ were meant to be strong – unfazed by emotions in the heat of battle. But that ocean wrench, had gotten under her skin.

“She’s.. gone.. She left me; all alone… you don’t get it. I feel like there’s something missing.. something important…”

“I know. But you’re wrong to value yourself on whether a person is with you or not.” Slowly, Jasper felt a hand slither from under her chin against the sand, and carefully raise her head so she looked up. Of course Jasper’s head alone was heavy, so the human slipped her other hand there to help. Jasper stayed still, for the first time in her life – she felt too distraught, too angry, too sad – to even feel or do anything.

“You, yourself are that important something. You have to – look inside yourself for it. It’s something that doesn’t need someone else for it to shine, it just – does. You think you can only be strong with this person, that’s not true. And it isn’t love. Love is when that person cheers you on, but you don’t need them to be there – you choose for them to be there. To watch each other shine, then you shine together.”

Jasper could only stare at the human as her vision once again began to grow black, but in her last act the Gem reached out for the human.

“Shine…”

And there she fell, back into the golden sand.

“God I said such corny stuff back then..” I cringed as I thought back to the memory, running a hand in my hair as Jasper shifted in her sleep again.

“..Good…Enough…” I bit my lip as I lay back down next to her. Staring at her blonde hair falling over her eyes as her brow continued to fury together as she dreamt on restlessly. It angered me how this other Gem person still affected Jasper, that my words really hadn’t sunk in back then. What I’d give if she would just – maybe, think of me like she did with this other gem. Maybe my idea of love was all wrong; maybe I wanted her to be selfish with me. To consume me.

But what the hell would I know? I couldn’t even take my own advice. When things got hard back home I just got up and left, I didn’t let anyone reach out to me. Now I have a gem I am beside myself in love with, but she doesn’t hold any emotion like that towards me. I guess I deserved it, a runaway like me – doesn’t deserve love.

“..Enough… She… Good…” Jasper mumbled, rubbing her face in the pillows whilst I shuffled closer to her.

“I want to be good enough.. for you…” The warmth I felt from Jasper was always unreal to me, she was like a golden sun, and I so desperately wanted to be burnt.

“I’m no Gem but.. I’d try to make you happy… happy enough to coexist with me… so if anything were to happen; you could live on with little pain… I don’t know what I’m saying, or what I mean… and you’re asleep and I’m frustrated but- damnit Jasper. I lo-“

Panic struck me as I looked up to see the whites of Jasper’s eyes glowing in the dark, staring strait at me with not an inch of sleep in her iris’. She was as wide awake as they came. I jumped back in shock, but she only pinned me down beneath her in response. I stared up at her, trying to read her expression in the dark but my eyes weren’t adjusting quick enough. But I knew with her alien vision – she could see my bright red cheeks.

“Finish what you were saying.”

“A-aha, what? Saying what? I’m s-sure I don’t know-“

“Don’t lie. Say it.”

I rolled my lips in a tight thin line, keeping my secret far back at the end of my throat. I turned my head against the pillow, refusing to meet her gaze whilst I tried to look for a solution but my mind grew blank. I could feel her grow angry as her grip on my arms tightened a little – but not too much, she was always aware of how weak I was compared to her.

“…I don’t want to use violence, but I’m a Jasper. That’s all I know to get information.”

I turned to look up at her desperately, slightly afraid of what she’d do. She could crush me easily if she wasn’t careful. Slowly she raised her arms into her battle stance I had grown to know, even though I was at the other end of her fists she still looked so beautiful above me. The way her biceps flexed as she shifted, her own body was dancing and I bet that was how she thought of war – a dance.

Funny how before I knew her, I could never see war and pain as something as beautiful as a dance. But she made me think that maybe I could find it beautiful, or more like I want to see her fight. I want to see her do everything, and remember every detail.

Quickly her hands descended upon me, I flinched as I expected a punch but instead I was greeted with a strange feeling. An itch? No a pinch? Whatever it was, it was sending shivers all over me and it made me want to laugh – looking down I saw her tickling me all over, receiving the desired effect from me as I laughed hysterically.

Her fingers crossed over my skin numerous times, returning to certain spots where she knew I found particularly infectious, quickly she was winning as tears formed in my eyes.

“H-ha! Haha! Jas-Jasper stop! Please!”

“Not until you finish what you were saying!”

She pressed deeper into my ticklish areas as the tears streamed down my face, I knew I couldn’t handle anymore as my legs flailed in the air as she sat on my lap, unaffected by my attacks – her mission was clear. With a shaky inhale I ran through the words in my mind, hugging them dearly as they had stayed with me for so long – now at last they’d reach her. The one I desired most.

“F-Fine!... I… I-I…. I love y-you Jasper.”

Instantly her fingers stopped and returned to her side. I pressed the switch next to my bed, lighting my bedside lamp so I could see her better. I turned to see my lovable giant half smiling. But the disappointment in her eyes was clear. “Well… stop.” Pain struck the inside of my heart, but it soon turned into something bitter.

“S-stop? Y-you can’t just… dismiss me like that! Fine if you don’t love me back but- goddammit Jasper I love you! Accept my feelings at least!”

“Amber stop that. You look like fire. If you don’t stop I’ll-“

“You’ll what? Tickle me again? Fine! Do your worst! I don’t care! Whatever you do, I won’t stop loving you-“

Before I could react, I felt a pair of lips crash against my own. They were hot, warm like a golden sun, at long last – I was burning. My hands travelled up into her long golden locks as I stroked her head and hair. I felt her large hands travel up and down my side, making me shiver. One of her hands gripped mine and pushed it above my head, her grip light, she let me determine how tightly she could go. Even now, she was aware of her strength against me.

Soon we parted for a breath; she stared down at me with eyes I hadn’t seen before. They weren’t their usual distant hurt ones, they were here. Whatever she had been looking at before, she was finally looking at me. I felt like I could melt into my sheets if I wanted to, but I needed answers.

“Jasper… what am I to you?”

Instantly Jasper looked hurt from this notion, she shook her head as her cheeks began to bloom a bright orange. She hid her face in my neck, not wanting to meet my eye.

“…I’m a Quartz, Amber. I am stronger than anything on this human world; I could destroy mountains with just my fist if I wanted to. Which is why… I shouldn’t love you, Amber. I could kill you if I’m even the slightest too rough… you’re like glass to me.”

“I don’t care.” Gently I pushed her off me, she did so obliged as I stared down at her.

“You could never break me. I’ve been breaking myself not telling you how I’ve felt. Jasper, let’s at least try. “

Jasper stared up at me, scanning my eyes for any sense of hesitance. When she was sure she had found none, she sighed. I prepared myself to be dismissed again when I felt her hands slowly rise up and down my thighs, I looked back at her and she was smiling shyly.

“This is the one battle I’m willing to lose.”

I smiled ear to ear; something began at my toes then rushed up to my head. Like a bolt of hot lightening. I leaned down and kissed her again, she obliged, our lips matching together perfectly. Her hands began to travel and explore me completely as did mine, and as I began to melt to her touch – I knew nothing would be the same ever again.

#jasper x oc #jasper x reader #jasper x lapis #jasper x pearl #jasper #quartz #homeworld #steven universe #lo #romance #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #beach city #beach #waves #sea

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our-smooty · 5 years

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Take Me to Church Chapter 18: Redemption

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

Stuart woke up groggy, disoriented, and with a pressing need for a piss. He was well versed in the art of hangover bathroom trips and he managed to get to the toilet without much problem. Wrapping things up quickly he leant over the sink to wash up, gazing idly into the mirror. The bags under his eyes looked worse than normal and he looked a little pale, even for him.

Bits and pieces of last night came back to him as he stared. He’d taken a lot of pills, and most of the night was a blurry mess. He remembered that Murdoc hadn’t come home, and Russel was out looking for him but after that, it was all a fuzzy. The easiest way to know if the problem had resolved itself was to check Murdoc’s room. The singer shuddered.

OK, he could do this. Murdoc probably wasn’t even awake, he could just crack the door open, peek inside, then go back to hiding in his room. It was only once he left his room and was standing with his hand on the doorknob to the bassist's room that he realized he was shirtless and dressed only in his sleeping pants. Oh well, Murdoc had seen him in worse.

The door creaked open quietly as 2D looked inside. Luckily the bedside lamp was on, and 2D could see the shape of the bassist sleeping tangled in the sheets. Relief swept through the singer like a wave. Murdoc was home and safe. 2D hadn’t realized how worried he actually was until he saw the other man there. The urge to walk in and crawl into bed beside the man was strong, but then he remembered their argument the day before and closed the door, walking back to his bedroom.

He’d meant what he said yesterday. Whatever was going on between them was a mistake. He knew that he’d been sending out mixed signals lately--he was confused himself--but when Murdoc had brought up their relationship he knew he had to put a stop to things. 2D wished he’d been able to do it at a better time but now that he knew the bassist was home, he figured that everything turned out alright.

But… why did he feel like he’d lost something? There was an aching in his chest that he could only attribute to his argument with Murdoc. He should be happy that Noodle was awake and talking, that she was going to be ok! But instead he was acting like a love-sick teenager who’d had his first breakup--and they hadn’t even been dating!

“Get it together, Stu,” he whispered to himself, sitting idly at his keyboard. There were papers full of notes and music all over the bench and floor, some in his writing, others in Murdoc’s. They’d been going over some of 2D’s song ideas for the past week, making notes and goofing off. He reached down and grabbed a random one, setting it on the holder and beginning to play.

It was one of the songs he’d written in his journal, currently untitled and only half formed. The only lyrics he had so far was for a chorus and he sang those quietly to the audience of his empty bedroom.

“I will always think about you. That's why I'm calling you back on my way through.

He paused to scribble a few notes for his future self on the paper before shuffling it back into a random pile. Music writing didn’t hold the same spark it did when Murdoc was around to listen.

He checked the time and realized it was well into the afternoon. Russel would be awake for sure, and 2D knew he should go apologize for his behaviour the night before. There was no good reason for him to get so high and leave Russel to sort everything out himself.

With a groan, he stood from the bench and left his room, though not before reaching into his pill stash and popping a couple painkillers. Not as many as the night before, but enough to fill him with a comfortable warmth once they kicked in. Stuart ambled down the hall to the drummer's room and knocked. Immediately he heard a “come in”.

“Hey Russ,” he said, standing sheepishly in the doorway. “I wanted t’say sorry for last night…”

Russel was seated in his reading chair, a book open on his lap. He looked up at 2D and the singer felt guilty at the large, dark circles under his friend's eyes. “Thanks, D. I’m not gonna say it’s fine, but thanks for apologizing.”

2D took a seat on the bed. “How’d everythin’ go las’ night?” Russel shrugged.

“He came home himself eventually, completely wasted.” Russel closed the book and set it aside. “Said he’d been doin’ more than just drinkin’ so I spent most of the night checkin’ up on him.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He was really upset about your fight yesterday.” Overwhelming guilt crept through 2D’s system. He didn’t want to make the bassist upset, but he also didn’t know how to fix things.

“You think I should go make it up to him?” he asked. Russel was usually the level headed one of the bunch and Stu was hoping he could tell him what to do.

“To be honest D,” Russel began, “whatever’s between you and Murdoc is your business, and you gotta deal with that yourself. I don’t think I can tell you want to do.”

2D scuffed his socks against the floor. “But, say you were me. What would you do?”

Russel looked at him, raising a brow. “D I’ve punched Murdoc in the face multiple times. Do you think I’d even get to this point?”

“Good point, nevermind,” 2D answered, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Sorry I’m putting all this shit on you, Russ.”

Russel shook his head. “It’s alright D, I get it.”

Changing the subject, 2D perked up. “What are you up to today then?”

“Not a lot, reading. Might go out later.” 2D’s interest peaked.

“Where had you been goin’ so often Russ, you got a sweetheart?”

Russel flushed a little, looking away. “I mostly go on walks around town to avoid hearin’ you and Murdoc screwin’ each other's brains out."

He should have seen that one coming. Russel was quiet, but he knew how to throw down with the best of them. “Fair enough, sorry again.”

“It’s fine D. Maybe try to keep it down past 10?”

2D smirked. “No promises.” He stood up. “Guess I shouldn’t put this off anymore. Thanks again.”

“Good luck D,” Russel said, waving.

The hallway had never looked for long. The space between Russel’s room and Murdoc’s couldn’t have been more than 20 feet, but to 2D it looked like a monumental hike. He really, really didn’t want to deal with Murdoc right now, and he was sure Murdoc didn’t want to deal with him. Was he really going to walk into the Satanists room, wake him up, and demand answers?

The bedroom door was right in front of him, and 2D didn’t allow himself the luxury of hesitating. The bassist was still sleeping, fully clothed. Russel’s charity must have run out after getting him to bed. The singer wasn’t really sure where to go from here; as usual, he didn’t have a plan. He knew that if he woke Murdoc up, he better have a good reason. But he really, really didn’t think this through, so instead, he tiptoed to the bed and slid into the warm comfort of the bassist's bed. It was easy to pretend that yesterday hadn’t happened when he was wrapped up in the warm blankets. Curling onto his side, facing Murdoc, Stuart could feel the other’s stale breath against his cheek. With extreme care, he lifted an arm and placed it around Murdoc’s waist. He was surprised when Murdoc didn’t wake up but instead snuggled in closer to the embrace. 2D felt his cheeks heat at the sight.

He could have this, every morning, if he wanted. He was pretty sure that Murdoc wanted that too, but the memories of how Murdoc used to treat him not that long ago were holding him back. It was almost like they were two different people, the Murdoc he knew now, who was trying to be better, and the Murdoc he used to know, who hit him and kept him on that rotten island. 2D still had nightmares tinted bubblegum pink and echoing with whale noises.

Murdoc twitched in his sleep, his arm reaching out and grabbing onto Stu’s pant leg. Sleeping like this it was hard to imagine him as he’d been on Plastic Beach. 2D wasn’t sure how much of the beach Murdoc even remembered, he’d been awfully drunk and awfully mad. Any time someone brought it up around the bassist he either laughed it off or got in a mood and walked out. 2D wasn’t sure how to talk to him about it without causing a blowout, but it was becoming increasingly clear that he’d have to, and soon.

But for the time being, Murdoc was asleep, and Stuart was warm. The important stuff could wait a little while.

Murdoc woke up warm, but incredibly uncomfortable. His jeans--why was he wearing his jeans in bed?-- were digging into his hips and he still had his shoes on for some reason. He thought back but everything after he’d found some teenager selling drugs in an ally off the high street was a complete blank. Obviously, he’d made it home, and he’d either dragged himself up to bed and passed out, or one of his bandmates had done it for him. Judging by the fact he was still fully dressed in his day clothes and boots, it’d been Russel.

As he began to toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position, he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. Had he brought home a bird? Maybe it was that lanky bloke he remembered talking to outside the second pub. Either way, he really didn’t want to deal with a clingy one-night-stand and he was about to tell them to get the fuck out when he spied a shock of blue hair peeking out from the comforter.

Murdoc was afraid to breathe. What the hell was 2D doing in his bed? He remembered them having a fight yesterday, or more accurately, he remembered trying to be honest with the singer for once and 2D shooting him down. He remembered feeling the world fall out from underneath him in that break room and then spending the rest of the night trying to forget that feeling. Thought things were fuzzy he didn’t think they made up last night, so what was he doing in Murdoc’s bed?

Normally, this would be a good sign. A pretty face in his bed after a night of binging was usually a good thing, especially now that he’d admitted to feeling something for the singer. But it was soured by the fact that as far as he knew 2D had rejected him completely and utterly. Did the singer still want to be friends with benefits? Murdoc wasn’t sure if he could handle that, now that he’d had a little taste of so much more. Finally able to move he peeled back the covers to reveal 2D’s sleeping face and hands curled under his chin. He looked like an angel.

So badly, Murdoc wanted to curl into the singer, wake him up and ask 2D to hold him as they both drifted back to sleep. Instead, he settled for shimmying close enough to feel the warmth from the other man, reaching out a hand to thread his fingers through the others. Was this going to be the last time he had the chance to do this, would he ever get the chance to be this close to Stuart again? A nagging, sinking feeling told him there was a good chance of that happening.

2D murmured in his sleep and Murdoc hushed him. “Shh, love. Get some rest,” he whispered, kissing his forehead ever so gently. The singer settled down with a slight smile on his face and Murdoc allowed himself to smile back, just a little. He wanted to commit every inch of this moment to memory so that when the other did wake up and leave him for good and Gorillaz was over, he’d have something to think back on.

He stayed like that for a long while, letting the singer drool all over his pillow in a fit of uncharacteristic kindness. Occasionally 2D would move around, or mumble in his sleep and each time Murdoc felt his adrenaline kick in. By the time the other man did rejoin the world of the conscious, Murdoc was an anxious mess.

“Mmm what time is it?” 2D asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. Murdoc shrugged; he hadn’t checked the time when he woke up, too shocked to find the singer in his bed.

“Wait, what am I doin’ here?” Ah, there it was. Maybe the singer had been smashed as well, and wandered into Murdoc’s room by mistake? Wouldn’t be the first time.

“How the hell should I know, faceache?” Stuart flinched at Murdoc’s tone. He sat up and Murdoc tried not to let his eyes wander over his bare chest.

“I-I’m sorry Muds. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” 2D stuttered, looking away. Murdoc continued to frown as he sat up as well, coming face to face with the singer. His nervous posture made Murdoc wanted to reassure him, but the pain of yesterday’s rejection was still too fresh.

“Well, get out then,” he snapped, fists clenched in the sheets. Anger, resentment, those were things he could understand, things he could use.

“B-but I…”

Murdoc bristled. “You what, Stuart? Did you wanted another go at me, another chance to tell me to fuck off?”

2D shook his head quickly. “N-no, Muds I--” but Murdoc interrupted, angry now.

“Then what do you want! Y-you know how I feel, so why are you makin’ this harder?” the bassist shouted. He was getting emotional now. “Why won’t you just go?”

2D was quiet, so Murdoc continued. “You can’t have it both ways, Stu.”

“I know,” he answered, head bowed. “I jus’ wanted to talk.”

“Then talk.”

Murdoc waited, his temper simmering under the surface. 2D didn’t look like he knew what to say, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“I-I like you, Murdoc, you’re my best mate,” he began, “and I think we made a right mess of things, sleepin’ together.”

“You think?” Murdoc interrupted again and 2D frowned.

“B-but I also think that maybe you’re right,” the singer looked up, “there’s something between us. It's been there from the beginin’ and we’ve been ignorin’ it.”

Murdoc stayed silent, waiting for the other to continue. “It’s so fucked up though, because y-you used to hit me, and y-you kept me on that fuckin’ island. You hurt me, Murdoc, so many times.”

Murdoc’s chest ached. He had hurt the singer, he knew that, just like he knew he didn’t deserve the other man’s attention. “I know, Stu. A-and I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re tryin’ to be better, but it’s a little messed up, me lovin’ someone who hurt me so bad.” Murdoc’s eyes widened as 2D blushed at his slip-up.

“D I--” 2D held up his hand, telling Murdoc he wasn’t finished.

“I-I don’t know what to do, Murdoc. Last night I was so worried about you, but I was so angry too. Sometimes I don’t know if I love you, or hate you.” Tears were forming in the corners of the younger man’s eyes. Murdoc took the risk and reach out, weaving his fingers between the singers. He had to do something right now to fix this. If he didn't, he'd regret it for the rest of his life.

“I’ve been thinkin’,” Murdoc began quietly, “y-you said somethin’ about findin’ a doctor to talk to, one of those psych tossers.” He looked up at the singer, catching his eye. He wanted to let 2D know he was serious. “I’ll go with you, o-or on my own. If you want.”

“You will?” Stu asked, surprised. Murdoc nodded.

“You know I’m not good at talkin’ about things,” the bassist paused, “but I think… I think there’s something good between us. And, there’s something in me that’s all twisted up and bad but I-I’d be willing to try, if you are.”

2D looked thoughtful, his brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue peeking out between his teeth. It was criminally cute and made Murdoc want to scoot closer, but he wasn’t sure if that would be appreciated. Instead, he tightened his grip on the singer's hand and waited.

“Muds…” the singer sighed, staring down at their hands. “Do you really mean that?”

Murdoc nodded, bringing their hands up to his chest, practically hugging them. “D, I promise. I don’t want to fuck up again. I-I can’t lose you or the band.”

2D continued to stare at their hands. Murdoc hoped he believed him, though a small part of him still insisted he didn’t deserve it. But he was so close. So close to breaking through all the self-hatred and shit and starting to heal.

Finally, 2D looked up. The tears from before had dried, and he had an almost comical stoic expression on his face. “OK.”

“OK?” He’d been hoping, but he hadn’t expected the singer to actually agree.

“Yeah, OK. If you’re serious--”

“I am!” Murdoc interrupted, desperate to make thing singer understand that this time, against all the odds, he was telling the truth.

2D smiled a little, but quickly sobered. “But it can’t be like it was before. You can’t beat on me, or call me nasty things.” Murdoc shook his head. He didn’t want to hurt 2D ever again and he knew, looking at the other man in that moment, that if he did it’d be the end of everything.

“I’m goin’ to be better this time D.” He didn’t know how exactly, but he was going to try. 2D nodded and looked again to their joined hands. He was leaning in a little, the stoop of his shoulders making him look older and more tired than he should have. Murdoc leaned in as well, angling himself so their hands and his chest was pressed right up against the other’s side as close as possible. Even though 2D had said OK, he wasn’t sure if it was alright to move forward. Luckily, Stu took charge and closed the gap, tipping the bassists head back and kissing him. To Murdoc, it felt like a new start, a chance at redemption that he couldn’t afford to waste.

#takemetochurchfic #2doc #niccalpot #tw suicide #tw violence #tw car accident #tw DRUGS AND ALCOHOL

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thejacketandthehook · 6 years

Text

CSFF: Before Dawn 2/?

Title: Before Dawn

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones only had one thing in common: Emma's best friend and Killian's brother were dating. But Emma and Killian could not get along. That was, until the day they had to work together through a tragedy that no one saw coming.

Rating: General (but that will change to Mature in later chapters)

Word Count: 6529

Disclaimers: I own absolutely nothing.

Author’s Notes: So, I’ve been in the mist of writing this particular story for almost two years. And I’m hoping that if I have support, I’ll be more motivated to finish it. So my story is based off of the movie "Life As We Know It" starring Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel. And below is the first chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter One

You can also read it here: A03

@searchingwardrobes

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two Months Later

Emma smiled as her boyfriend, Walsh, leaned across the table, gently taking her hand in his.

"You are an amazing woman, Emma Swan," Walsh smiled. She and Walsh had been going out for the last four months, and though Emma really didn't believe in love at first sight, or any kind of nonsense like that, she was smitten with him. He was just that kind of guy; charming to a fault, but also kind and considerate. He loved spending quiet time with Emma, but also loved being around Liam and Elsa (he's never met Killian; Emma felt he didn't need that kind of torture). With his shaggy brown hair and warm brown eyes, he was exactly what Emma needed and wanted. Elsa saw that the first time Emma brought him to her house from BBQ. Walsh and Liam got along wonderfully, and even Henry seemed to like him - though to be fair, Henry likes everyone, but still. It was nice that Walsh could fit into her little life. It meant a lot.

"I know," she smiled back, tilting her head to the side. They had just finished dinner and the waitress asked if they wanted desert.

"I can't eat another bite," Emma replied, leaning back and rubbing her hand over her completely full stomach.

"Oh, come on! You have to have their ice cream! You love the ice cream here."

That was true, but still..."Walsh, I couldn't."

"Fine, I'll take the ice cream."

After he told her what flavor he wanted and the waitress walked away, Walsh excused himself to go to the bathroom. Emma was fiddling with her phone, checking Facebook and Instragram when he returned. "Everything alright with work?"

"Yeah, yeah. I haven't been assigned a new case yet."

"You will be soon."

"Well, I just closed one today."

"And that is why you are the best detective here in Storybrooke."

Emma gave a small chuckle. "I wish that felt like a big victory, but...I want to go where there is real detective work. Like in New York. Or Boston."

"You want to leave Elsa? And Henry?"

She shrugged. "It's a dream right now. I'm sure that I'm not gonna..." Just then her cell phone rang. Usually she would ignore it, because she was on a date with Walsh and it wasn't her work ringtone. But it was Anna's face that appeared on the screen. And Anna rarely called Emma. And right then, Emma's stomach dropped.

"I should take this," she muttered before picking up and phone and turning slightly to the side before swiping her finger along the bottom. "Hello?"

"Emma?" Though it was Anna's voice, it...wasn't. Because Anna was usually chipper to the point where you wanted to tie her down and read her horrible stories about how magic really works in Disney World until she loses that innocence. But right now it sounded like she had found it all on her own. "Emma...I can't..."

She's crying. Why was she crying?

"Anna? What is it? Are you okay? Is it Henry?" Oh no, please let it not be Henry. Please say Henry is fine. Because Elsa and Liam would lose it if something happened to Henry.

"He's..." Anna sobbed so loud, Emma pulled the phone away from her ear, but she quickly replaced it, in case she continued talking. Emma wanted to jump out of the chair and start pacing, but since she was in a public place, she couldn't. But her body wanted to move while her mind was trying to focus on Anna.

"Anna? Anna, is it Henry? Is he okay?" Emma asked, anxious. Anna was not answering her questions and she was starting to freak out.

"Henry's...he's fine...but Emma...Come to the hospital. Now!" Before she can say another word, Anna hung up.

Emma slowly lowered the phone, Walsh's ice cream placed in front of her on a lovely dish. But she barely saw it before she gathered up her belongings. "I need to go."

"I gathered," Walsh said, signaling to the waitress for the check. "Is Henry alright?"

"I don't...Yes, he's okay. But I don't understand why she called. I need to go to the hospital."

"Wait, I'll drive you."

Emma stood up, ready to run out of there and run to the hospital if she had to. "Walsh, I can't--"

"I'll take you. You're in no condition to drive." The waitress appeared with the check. Walsh handed her his credit card and said, "We need to leave now, so hurry up." Usually he's so considerate to waiters and waitresses, but he knows that Emma's in a rush.

"It has be something to do with Elsa," Emma says, trying to figure out what got Anna so upset. "If it's not Henry, than it's Elsa. It has to be."

The waitress returned with the receipt and Walsh signed it before the two of them ran out of the restaurant and towards his car.

The drive to the hospital took forever, but they were also there in record time. Emma ran towards the doors when she saw someone running out of the corner of her eye. She didn't stop, even when she recognized Killian's profile. When he saw her, he came closer before asking, "Henry?"

She knew what he was asking: was Henry hurt? She shook her head. "I don't think so."

Walsh was right behind the two of them as they entered the hospital. Emma and Killian went straight to the front desk. They spoke at the same time. "I want to see my brother, Liam Jones." "I need information on Elsa Jones."

The nurse looked at the two of them. "You must be the family members. Let me page the doctor for you." She turned around and picked up the phone.

"This is not good," Emma whispered. "If we need to talk to a special doctor, this is not good."

"Think positive Emma. They could be in a minor accident. Anna is a bit overdramatic."

Killian turned to look at Walsh, but didn't say anything. At that moment, the nurse turned around and said, "Dr. Whale is on the third floor."

The three of them went speeding towards the elevators. But they were taking too long, and Emma was jumpy, so when she saw the staircase, she went towards them instead. She thought that she heard Walsh and Killian behind her, but she wasn't certain. Everything felt like a dream, a really awful dream where you can't wake up. It felt fuzzy and uncertain and all Emma wanted to do was going back to the restaurant with Walsh and finish their date.

But when she threw open the door and saw Anna sobbing into her friend's shoulder, she knew that life was about to change forever.

Anna could barely speak, but her friend, Kris, filled them in. Elsa and Liam were in a terrible car accident. Their car slid and went over a bridge. Another car saw them go over and called the ambulance, but both of them were unresponsive when they were brought in. Henry was not in the car; he was at home, currently sleeping in his bed, a neighbor watching him.

Emma barely heard the words coming out of Kris's mouth. She heard their names and "car accident" and everything went fuzzy. She grabbed onto someone, she wasn't sure who, who helped her sit down. Her legs felt weak and her brain was numb and she just sat there, staring off into nothing. Because she couldn't lose Elsa. Elsa was the only family she had. She had literally no one but her.

Killian sat beside her, but she felt him rather than saw him. He leaned forward and rubbed his hands against his face before standing up and screaming, "Fucking hell!" as loud as he could. If people stopped and starred at him, Emma didn't know. She only heard the sound of his voice, not the actual words.

But she couldn't lose Elsa. She just couldn't.

When Dr. Whale walked into the hallway, Emma could feel the Earth beneath her feet moving and she had nothing to hold on to. Because he told her the one thing she did not want to hear.

"I'm sorry. We did everything we could."

Anna screamed. Killian collapsed. And Emma pulled herself up in a ball and wept. She wept for Liam Jones, the most wonderful (sort of) brother-in-law a woman could ask for. She wept for Elsa, her best friend, her almost sister. They were going to travel the world together. They were going to live next door to each other and have a special pathway put in so someone could get from one house to the other easily. Their children were going to grow up together.

And now she was gone.

Both of them.

Elsa and Liam Jones were dead.

Oh God, what about Henry?

What was going to happen to him? He was an orphan. Two hours ago he was a part of a loving family, one that would do anything to protect him. Now? Now he was an orphan before he could even talk.

Emma knew what that was like, and it was the most awful feeling in the world. The only difference between Henry and Emma is that Henry's family didn't leave him by choice. Emma's did.

But now wasn't the time to wallow in pity. Now she had to help Anna plan not one funeral, but two.

Emma's nights and days became a huge blur. She helped Killian and Anna set up the funerals, and the wake, and what should they bury Elsa and Liam in? She helped take care of Henry, but she was so out of it, a neighbor more often than not took care of him. Anna and Kris were staying with him until they spoke to the lawyer. Even though Elsa and Liam were so young (just over 25), they did in fact have a will. Emma remembered Elsa insisting she and Liam get one when they found out she was pregnant with Henry. "Better safe than sorry," she had said.

Unfortunately, she was right.

The day before the funeral, Anna called Emma to say that the lawyer wanted to speak to Emma at her earliest convenience. Emma wrote down the office address before hanging up.

She looked at her own handwriting. Archie Hopper. What an odd name. Emma wasn't certain why she was so focused on the name, so much so that she sort of just zoned out for a moment.

"Hey, you okay?" someone asked her.

She looked up to see Mary Margaret Nolan and her husband David looking down at her. Mary Margaret and David were Elsa and Liam's neighbors. Emma has of course met them numerous times, and they were certainly nice enough. Slightly older that Emma (by maybe two years), they were married straight out of college and have been by each other's side all the time. Emma wasn't certain whether she has ever seen one without the other.

Mary Margaret was a pretty woman, with a pixie cut black hair and bright green eyes. And she had a full face, though the fact that she was seven months pregnant might have helped with that. And her husband David was the picture boy for the Boy-Next-Door trope. He had sandy colored hair that was always cut short and blue eyes. Both of them were extremely easy to talk to.

"Yeah," Emma said, shaking her head before looking up at them. "I'm okay. How are you doing? How's Henry?"

Mary Margaret and David were the neighbors who had been watching Henry the night of the accident. They were thankful - like everyone else - that Henry wasn't in the car with them. There would have been no way that he could have survived.

"Henry's okay." Mary Margaret looked down that the paper in Emma's hand. "Do you need to go see the lawyer?"

Emma quickly got up, making Mary Margaret and David back up. "Yeah, yeah, I'm suppose I do," she said, sort of in a daze. She's been in a daze since this whole mess started. She wondered if she would ever truly come out it.

"When?" David asked.

"Um, soon."

"You going now?"

"Um...I guess."

"I'll drive you," David suggested. Normally Emma would have objected, stating that she can obviously take her own car, but since she was so out of it, David driving would have been the smarter option.

When they pulled up in front of the law offices, Emma weakly thanked David before getting out. She opened the door and walked towards the correct offices before opening that one. When she walked into the waiting room, she saw the receptionist behind her desk and Killian Jones sitting on one of the hard chair, playing with his phone, a flask barely tucked behind his back. Emma didn't comment. Everyone deals with grief in their own way, and right now a drink sounded like a good idea.

When the receptionist saw Emma, she picked up the phone and called to the lawyer. He must have told her to tell them to come in, since when she hung up, she said to them, "You can go in."

Killian and Emma looked at each other. "Which one?" Killian asked.

"Both of you. He's needs to speak to you both."

Emma wondered what precisely the lawyer needed both of them for, but she figured that she would find out soon enough. Killian let her walk in first before following.

The lawyer's office was spacious, even with the amount of furniture it had in it. He had at least five filing cabinets against the one wall and his desk sat in front of a row of windows. He had a couch and a coffee table sitting in the middle of the room, and in front of his desk sat two chairs. When he saw Emma and Killian, he gestured to them.

"Sit, sit," he said in a soft voice.

Once they were both seated, he introduced himself. "My name is Archie Hooper and I am Elsa and Liam Jones's lawyer. Do you know why you were both called here?" They both shook their heads. "Okay, well, I have their will here and it contains both of you." He took a deep breath before folding his hands on his desk. "Has Elsa or Liam told you what would happen to Henry in the unlikely event of both of them dying?"

Emma's fingers started fidgeting and her heart pounded. What was going to happen to him? "No," she muttered. Killian shook his head.

"Well," Archie continued, "they have both stated that the legal guardians of Henry K. Jones would be...you."

Silence. And then both Killian and Emma leaned forward in their chairs and spoke at the same time.

"What do you mean, 'you'? Like both of us?" Killian asked.

"There has to be misunderstanding somewhere," Emma replied.

Archie held up his hands. "I know this is confusing, and I tried to talk them out of it. Having two people who are not in any form of relationship raising a child...it's complicated. But they insisted that it had to be you. Both of you."

"But I'm his brother!" Killian spoke up with more passion than he had in a week. "It makes sense for me, but for her?"

As much as Emma wanted to smack Killian, he did have a point. Emma wasn't Elsa's true sister, that was Anna. So while it made sense for Killian to take responsibility for Henry, why Emma and not Elsa's actual sister?

"I love Henry just as much as you do," Emma hissed at him.

"But you're not his true aunt, love, no matter how you think otherwise," he replied.

Before Emma could so much as inhale a deep breath to fight back, Archie said, "Now, please. Let's be civil about this. Elsa and Liam have it in their will - both of their wills that if something happened to both of them and they were unable to care for Henry, that--" The lawyer opened the will up to the right page and read it. "'Emma Swan and Killian Jones would be the legal guardians of Henry K. Jones.'" He looked up. "Of course you can think about it."

"How long do we have? To think about it," Killian asked.

"24 hours."

"And then what?" was Emma's concern.

"Well, if you two both decide that you are not fit to take care of Henry, he would go to Elsa's younger sibling, Anna."

"She's only 22," Emma pointed out. "And still in college. She can't raise a baby."

"Well, it would be her decision. However, if Anna too feels that she is not fit enough to take care of Henry, he would go to social services."

"And be put into a foster home? No." Emma sat back and crossed her arms. "Henry is not going anywhere near a foster house."

Killian raised an eyebrow at Emma's outburst, but otherwise said nothing.

Archie nodded. "I understand. But you have to also understand that if no one in his family wants him--"

"I want him," Killian interrupted.

Emma sat up straighter. "Me too. I want to take care of Henry."

Archie raised his eyebrows before saying, "I need you both to understand something of vital importance. Henry is not a toy. He is a living, breathing person who is only barely begun in life. This will not be easy. Being a parent is not an easy job and it is not for the faint of heart."

"Two seconds ago you're telling us to raise Henry, and now you're telling us not to?" Killian's eyebrows creased together. "I don't understand, mate, which is it?"

"I want to do what is best for Henry. Elsa and Liam felt that the two of you were capable of raising their child." Emma and Killian looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, but otherwise said nothing. It was definitely not a secret that Emma and Killian tolerated each other at best, and Elsa and Liam knew that. Why they would want to two people who can barely look at each other to raise their child was unbeknownst to them.

"How--How does this work?" Emma leaned forward. "Like...do we adopt him or...?"

"Well, they named you guardianship. So I just set up a court hearing to grant you temporary custody, and that's it.

"What if one of us wants to adopt him?" Killian asked.

"Well, that would be something that the two of you would need to work through. But, yes, if the judge rules that you, one of you, is capable of raising Henry, then you can adopt him. But let's not get ahead of ourselves." Archie looked at the two of them. They both looked so unsure of what was happening. Like two lost puppies trying to figure out a way home. "Can I make a suggestion? Maybe you two should move in, you know, until things get settled. They did, after all, leave you their house as well..."

"Wait what?" Emma asked.

"Live in their house?" Killian wanted to know.

"Oh, did I not mention that? You would be living in their place."

Emma's eyes opened wide. "We would live in their house?"

Archie nodded. "According to their will, except for a few personal items, everything belongs to the two of you. Their house, their cars, their furniture. Their finances would be used to cover anything for Henry, of course, and their life savings will help you a bit with the upkeep of this house. Their mortgage was paid off, so you two don't need to worry about that." He took a breath. "I think I covered everything. Now. What will your decision be? Will you two raise Henry or not?"

#csromcom18 #csromcom2018 #captain swan #fanfiction #once upon a time

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whatabrightplace · 7 years

Text

Nice Girls Finish Last | Chapter 4

Last chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Everybody talks about nice guys but what about nice girls? What happens after Natalie gets rejected by a guy she likes?

A/N: IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO FINISH THIS. I had the storyboard planned out a while ago but was never proud of what I wrote so I always deleted. THIS IS A LONG CHAPTER BTW. LIKE REALLYYYYY LONG. I really really hope you guys enjoy this chapter !! Please do give me feedback !!

Word Count: 1326

After giving Noah my number, I realized that I was late to my next class. I grabbed my bag with disheveled papers and rushed to my next lecture. When I entered the room, I quietly chose a random seat and plopped myself down. I took my gudetama (gotta love that egg man) pencil pouch and shuffled through my stationery items to find a pen and some paper. My hand flew across the paper with my black pen, writing down every single information that could be useful to me in the future for exams. The lecture in economics 101 happened to end a few minutes earlier than usual today. Since there was no rush, I organized my papers properly instead of stuffing it into my tattered, leather backpack. As I was putting the last few papers in its proper section in my binder, I heard my phone vibrate on the table. I took a look to find a message from Noah. I didn’t realize it but my lips started to form into a smile. I unlocked my phone and opened my messages.

“Are u down for lunch at the poke place next to campus???”

My fingers hovered above the keyboard for a bit before I started typing yes on my phone. I sent the message off and immediately got a smiley face from him. I stood up and pushed my chair in. As soon as I got out of the classroom, I slowly started walking towards the poke shop with a little bounce in my feet. I continued to walk there until I noticed a familiar figure from afar. I stopped and stared for a little. Mark was laughing happily and being friendly to another girl as if he didn’t reject me yesterday. I felt a pang in my heart. I know I didn’t have the right to feel this way but my heart couldn’t help it.

I moved along and acted like I didn’t notice him. The last few steps to the poke shop was a lot slower and happened to lost its bounce. When I arrived at the poke shop, Noah’s smile and dimples greeted me as I walked in. I gave him a bright smile back, that disappeared as soon as I sat down.

“Did your order yet?” I asked. He shooked his head with a pout on his face.

“I was hungry but I wanted to wait for you,” he replied. Guilt slowly crept on me.

“I’m sorry for not coming faster,” I said sadly and topped it with a frown. “You’re probably really hungry.” He shooked his head like a little child, causing his black hair to fly in different directions.

“Ahh, its okay,” he reassured. We finally ordered our bowls and went back to our seats as we waited for our names to be called.

“Are you okay? You looked kinda sad when you walked in,” Noah said. I realized I had a frown the whole time and quickly covered it up with a plastic smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine” I replied. Noah shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. He stood up from his chair causing it to make a horrible screeching noise. He walked over and grabbed my wrist. He got our bowls at the pickup area and guided me to his black Lexus. Noah opened the passenger seat for me and waited for me to get in. I was confused but I didn’t question it. He closed the door and quickly walked over to the driver’s side. He got in and started the engine.

“Where are we going?” I asked him.

“On a little adventure,” Noah said as he winked at me (Jihoon? Is dat you??). His car backed out of the parking lot and went down the highway. There wasn’t much traffic so we drove down the road smoothly. He turned on the radio and we sang along to the songs we knew, despite sounding like dying whales (me in the car lol). We drove for awhile and after 2 hours, there were no signs of civilization.

“I know self-defense so don’t try anything funny,” I said. Noah pouted and playfully looked hurt.

“Do you take me as a fuckboy or something?” he chuckled. I laughed along with him and said nothing, remembering my first impression. As we continued to drive, I noticed bright lights from afar. As we got closer, I realized it was from the Ferris wheel and the nightstands. My eyes widened at the sight as excitement fills me.

“Are we going to a fair?” I asked excitedly. Noah nodded and an “mhm” could be heard from him. I rolled down the window and poked my head out to get a better view. I got back in and opened the roof of his car as I poked my head out. My dark brown hair billowed with the wind as I threw my hands up and screamed. It relieved all of the stress I had from university and life in general. I sat in my seat again, now with a smile on my face, and closed the roof to stop cold air from sneaking in. We sat in silence for the next few minutes until we got there.

As soon as Noah parked his car, I busted out the door and immediately sprinted towards the food stands.

“Natalie, wait up!” I heard Noah shouted from afar but that didn’t stop me. Nothing gets in between this girl and her food. I stopped at the hot dog stand and bought myself one. Noah was now behind me, panting from chasing me. I heard him chuckling at the sight of me eating a hot dog. I turned around and glared the boy down. It only made him laugh harder. I frowned at the fact that I wasn’t scary to him and continued eating my hot dog that was drowned in condiments. Noah finally ordered his hot dog and inhaled it the moment he got it. I watched in awe as he ordered another one.

After exploring the food stands and eating everything they had to offer, we wandered towards the game section. As we were walking, I noticed a cute, light blue whale plush and paused. Noah stopped as well after realizing I wasn’t beside him anymore. He looked in the same direction I was and started laughing when he saw what I was looking at. He walked up to the stand and paid to play. He missed all four of his baseballs and pouted when he reached for a ball to find that he ran out. It was my turn to laugh. Noah bought another set of baseballs to try to redeem himself. On the second shot, he made it into the basket and threw his fist in the air.

“Your welcome,” he said while winking at me. I rolled my eyes as I chuckled silently. The vendor took the plushie off the hook and handed it to me. It was soft and fluffy to the touch. I looked at it for awhile and looked up at Noah then back down at the whale.

“He kinda reminds of you,” I blurted out. Noah smirked.

“Is it because it’s as cute as me?” he said proudly while whipping his nonexistent weave.

“Hmmm, no, it looks just as ugly as you,” I teased as I stuck my tongue out at him and skipped away, giggling. Before I could get away, Noah grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me towards him. We were now barely an inch apart. I could feel his warm breath on my forehead and his heart beating against mine. He used his finger to gently lift my head to face him. I stared into his chocolatey brown eyes as he stared into mine. His eyes shifted to my lips then back to my eyes. He tilted his head and started leaning in. I slowly closed my eyes to embrace what was coming next.

#nice girls finish last #love stories #series #story #fluff #cute #huehue #chapter 4 #love #update: I'm still a dork

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walviemort · 5 years

Text

a bump in the right direction (2/3)

Summary: Killian likes Robin. Robin likes Killian. They don’t think the other one is interested, though, even after spending a night together. But it seems that life has other plans for them when they both come out of the encounter pregnant. Maybe this was just the bump (well, baby bumps) they needed to get together. And starting a relationship while pregnant…well, that’s gonna be an adventure.

rated T | 4k | AO3

A/N: Continuing the story that sprawled from a prompt that @killianjonesownsmyheart1 sent to @sancocnutclub. I can’t wait for you to see the art she’s done for this—it’s so sweet!

Embarking on a relationship when both parties were mere months from giving birth was definitely a unique adventure, but despite its challenges, they couldn’t be happier.

Killian spent that first night at Robin’s, where they were finally able to be the balm to each other’s out-of-control libido, and fell asleep with the other’s bump under hand. The next morning brought some of the awkwardness of the morning that followed their first tryst, but either Killian felt bolder, or he could blame it on the hormones—he put an end to that by kissing Robin softly, once on the lips, and then on the curve of his stomach. Granny gave them a curious smile when they walked into the diner later that morning (after another round or two) but said nothing.

Things started a bit slow, as they always do—neither one sure which lines to cross when, given the weight of the situation (quite literally; Killian had just stopped looking at the scale, even though he knew he was supposed to get heavier and was glad that it meant his nausea was abating). And yet, they still managed to spend each evening together, unless Robin was working—in which case they met for lunch, or breakfast, or something. Now that they’d truly crossed a bridge when it came to togetherness, Killian found he couldn’t go too long without being near Robin, and the feeling seemed to be mutual.

Regina, smug older sister that she was, exclaimed “Called it!” when they finally broke the news to her of their relationship a couple weeks later. “I thought I saw you two disappear into that room that night.” Thankfully, she didn’t lord it over them long, and quickly shifted into overbearing aunt mode (“Someone has to!” she argued.)

It only took a few weeks of alternating whose place they crashed at—and for Killian to quickly realize how empty his bed felt without Robin in it, despite the increasing number of pillows he needed to support his growing bump—before they decided to just move into Killian’s; it was larger, and closer to Robin’s bar. And they knew they’d want to be together after the babies came; why not start now?

Of course, regardless the fact that Robin’s feelings toward Killian were growing in proportion to his waistline, moving in together was its own obstacle.

The physical ones were overcome with the help of friends and family—Regina, Will, and his girlfriend Belle—given that, at 28 weeks and entering their third trimesters, neither guy could lift a ton (though they helped where they could).

He did feel a fair bit of trepidation when the first box left his apartment, and then even more when he closed the door on the now-empty space for the last time. It wasn’t that he had many fond memories there or anything, except for maybe a few great parties. (Though the most memorable had been at Regina’s and he’d be damned if he ever let her move.)

It was just the finality of literally closing one door and opening another—another that led to a currently empty room in Killian’s, with nought more than some boxes, a couple dressers waiting to be assembled, and a few outfits hanging in the closet.

“You alright, love?” Killian’s voice brought Robin out of his thoughts as his boyfriend came up to his side, resting a hand on his lower back. His brow was furrowed with concern when Robin looked up.

“Aye, darling—I will be. It’s just...all becoming a little more real.”

Killian smirked, cutting a dimple into his thick ginger scruff (that, thanks to pregnancy, now got ridiculously long if he went without shaving so much as a day—and he loved it). “I know the feeling. But if you think it’s too soon, or you’re having second thoughts…” he started, trailing off. Robin could guess at the out Killian was giving him, but the fact that he was offering just cemented his decision.

“Not at all. Let’s get get a move on.”

He locked the door, grabbed Killian’s hand, and headed off onto their next adventure.

Which apparently was the mental side of moving in together: not just findinging space for Robin’s stuff in the mix, but just living with another person—and another person’s habits—when he was so used to being on his own for so long.

Killian’s Navy background showed itself in the neat arrangement of his closet and drawers, the kitchen cabinets, even under the bathroom sink. It was easy for Robin to find a home for everything but maintaining it would be harder, he knew. (Though perhaps, once he got to the nesting stage, it might get a bit easier—until the babies arrived and inevitably threw everything into chaos.)

The other aspect of that was seeing a side of the other they’d never seen before, whether it was just in the quiet moments during the day, or seeing the glimpses of each other’s past. Killian cast a very curious eye to the collection of medals Robin brought from his amateur archery days, and Robin quite liked the look of those leather pants Killian dug out of the closet while making room for Robin’s stuff, even if Killian swore they’d never fit him again.

“Then we’ll just have to find you new ones,” Robin decided, while promptly pouncing on Killian. He got to do that now whenever he wanted, and that just might have been one of the biggest perks. Try as he might, he had a very hard time keeping his hands of Killian and that beautiful bump. God, he was gorgeous.

Given that this was such an unconventional situation—for a couple to both be expectant, especially from the same encounter—they were foregoing most of the conventional pregnancy traditions. No book would truly be able to provide guidance and classes could only take them so far. But the one thing Robin insisted on was tracking their bellies.

He put up a piece of paper on the wall of the nursery, and each Sunday, they took turns tracing the outline of the other’s stomach. Just looking in the mirror every day, it was hard to notice the changes; having a visual representation of it was something special. He was curious to see if the outlines would cross paths—the paper was only so wide. But mostly, he loved the chance to trace the curve of Killian’s belly and feel their child moving inside.

Killian tried to tease him about it, but it was always half-hearted—and he couldn’t say much when he spent just as long tracing and loving on Robin’s bump.

“I just still can’t believe all this is real sometimes,” he murmured, palm resting over where Robin’s baby was kicking.

Robin was doing the same with Killian’s child. “I know, darling—me too.”

As fate would have it, they’d already been going to the same doctor, so Robin shifted his appointments to directly follow Killian’s. Regina had gone to the first one with Killian, but he’d been on his own for the next few; having someone with him—more specifically, the father and his partner—made the experience all the greater, and he could tell Robin felt the same. Stepping into the role of expectant father when he himself was also expecting was a unique role to be in, but he loved it—even if he was running the risk of dehydration again after their first shared appointment, from crying over not one but two sonograms.

But now, he now had someone else to look after him. Not that he was incapable of taking care of himself, obviously—he was rather used to it, both in the pregnancy and in life—but it was nice having someone to rub his back when he went toe-to-toe with the toilet at 3 am, and to make sure he was getting enough liquids. And he was more than happy to massage Robin’s swollen ankles after a long shift at work.

They discovered that they somehow had all the same cravings, so they were now on a first-name basis with Leroy at the market. Dill pickle chips (and all other varieties), pistachio ice cream, anchovies on pizza—all the weirdest combinations, but at least they didn’t have to worry about grossing the other out. They also desperately craved beer, but, alas, couldn’t partake. (Though they did develop an appetite for sarsaparilla.)

It was the kind of partnership he’d always wanted to have. It was nothing like he’d imagined, to be sure, and he often wished the tiny being inside him would stop interrupting them in one way or another (whether it was because of nausea, hunger, kicking, or just the fact that his baby bump physically interrupted their intimate times). But they just...clicked. It wasn’t a chore to be together—it was the most natural thing in the world.

Killian’s insecurities still tended to flare up, of course, but Robin always knew how to set him at ease. Somewhere around 34 weeks in his pregnancy, Killian flopped down on the bed, exasperated. He was just trying to get dressed for work, but his paternity trousers wouldn’t fit over his hips today and none of his shirts would button, straining against the ball that was now his stomach (don’t even get him started on the stretch marks). His ankles had caught up to Robin’s in the swollen department, but it didn’t much matter as he couldn’t see them anyways. And the baby was happily kicking and punching his bladder almost constantly, so even though he’d just used the facilities, he felt the urge to go again.

He felt huge, cumbersome, and ugly. There was no way Robin wanted him for him anymore; despite all he did, surely he was just sticking it out for the children. Killian turned his gaze to his still-sleeping partner, looking like the perfect image of pregnancy and not like the whale that Killian surely resembled. And they still had nearly two months to go. What would he look like then?

Killian was always prone to dramatics, but even more so now, especially as he threw himself backwards on the mattress and let the tears come.

He tried his best to keep it quiet and wallow in his misery alone, but it didn’t take long for the mattress to shift and for Robin to appear above him.

“Killian, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?” His brow was furrowed with worry as he stroked Killian’s cheeks, attempting to dry the tears.

“No, the baby’s fine—it’s me. I’m enormous and hideous and I don’t know how you can even stand to look at me.” He turned his head and threw an arm over his eyes; if Robin was going to take this chance to leave, he didn’t want to see it.

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Just...look at me, Robin.”

“Yeah, I’m looking right now. Have you seen me lately? I think there’s a similarity.”

“No, there’s not. You have exactly two stretch marks and all your clothes fit.”

“I have seventeen stretch marks, for your information, and if my clothes fit, that’s because I went out and bought massive shirts as soon as I got the positive test. As you well know, my own clothes haven’t seen the light of day in months and probably never will again.”

Killian just scoffed. “There’s no need to placate me, love. Just leave me be.”

“Hey.” Robin’s voice sounded almost angry; he’d never heard him like that before, and had to hazard a look, peeking out from under his arm. “I know you’ve got your vanity all wounded at the moment, but if you think that my attraction to you was just based on appearances, then you’re sorely mistaken, Killian Jones. You’re caring, sweet, talented, funny, and all I’ve ever wanted in a partner. And if anything, this,” he continued to rant, placing his hand on the apex of Killian’s belly, “has just made me all the more attracted to you physically—or have you already forgotten the other night in the shower?”

Killian immediately blushed at the memory, the details flooding his mind without thought: the hot water only adding to the steam between them; Robin’s careful, wandering hands exploring every inch of his body, even the extra ones; how Killian was barely able to keep any sort of control once Robin took his length in his mouth, forcing Killian to brace one arm on the wall and the other around his belly; and eagerly returning the favor as the shower continued to rain down on them.

That night was more the norm than the exception, even with libido gradually being replaced by fatigue as they got closer to the end of their pregnancies. But seeing Robin round with his child was truly arousing, even if they were continually working out the best ways to be intimate with their growing bumps. Even now, when Robin was shirtless and wearing pajama pants, it was doing all sorts of things to Killian.

“Judging by what’s going on in your underwear, I can tell you’re remembering,” Robin went on, smirking now. “Come here,” he beckoned, holding out his hands to Killian, and he took them. With surprisingly little effort, Robin pulled him up to sitting, then held his gaze. “This is what we’re going to do: you’re going to call off work today, and we’re going to head out to go shopping and find some clothes that flatter your wonderful, delectable form—especially with that photoshoot your sister is insisting on coming up.” Killian chuckled through his tears; they’d turned down her offer of a baby shower but, typical Regina, she wouldn’t take no for an answer on a dual paternity shoot. “We might even slip a massage in there, because lord knows we could both use one. But first,” he added, leaning in, “I’m going to show you again just how much I adore you, and I won’t stop until I know you believe me. How does that sound?”

Killian sniffled and grinned in response, only just realizing that his tears had become happy ones. He squeezed Robin’s hand and answered, “That sounds perfect.”

Other than the rough days—which they both had—Robin had no true complaints as their pregnancies progressed. And how could he? He had a stable job, a solid relationship, and all signs pointed to two healthy babies.

Well, okay, he had one complaint—the ridiculous paternity photo shoot. Even if he was dressed comfortably and had Killian at his side, he still thought it was just a tad silly.

“You’ll be so glad to have the pictures later!” Regina insisted that morning as she drove them out to the park they’d be shoot at.

“You better be right,” Robin threw back, both of them ignoring the string of muttered curses from Killian.

A few hours later, he hated to say it, but she had been right. Oh, they had done all the cheesy poses first—back-to-back, bump-to-bump, the silly hearts on the belly ones—but then split off to do their own shoots, to which Killian had vehemently protested.

“You’d best believe that I’ll be returning this favor should you ever have children, Regina,” he’d complained.

“I would fully expect you to,” she casually tossed back and continued to direct (and possibly flirt with) the photographer, Mal.

Robin didn’t know if it was the light, or the setting, or the realization that they were merely weeks away from having their whole lives changed, but something different struck him that day as he watched his beautiful boyfriend posing with their unborn child. He’d been thinking it for a while, but had been scared to actually say the word when they were both already on constant emotional roller coasters—who only knew what that could have done to Killian.

But as he felt his heart rate pick up as he just watched the gorgeous scene before him, the life within seemed to pick up on the feeling and start kicking up a storm.

“I know, my darling,” he whispered to his bump, placing a hand over where his child was moving most. “I love him, too.”

Killian would never admit it, but he was kind of glad Regina had forced this photo shoot on them. It would certainly be a good keepsake of this strange and exciting time in their lives, and it was a gorgeous spring day—perfect to be outside.

Maybe it was the sun, or the warm breeze, or the scent of the blooming flowers giving everything an ethereal feel, but as he watched Robin pose for his own shoot while resting on a bench nearby, a sudden, simple thought overtook him: “I love him.”

He did. He truly did. There was no one else he wanted to go on this journey with—no one else he could ever imagine sharing a life with. He knew the road ahead was going to have bumps (though hopefully none like the ones they were currently sporting, at least not for a while), but he knew that they could overcome them—together.

As if reading his thoughts, his baby started to wriggle like crazy. “Is that an agreement, love?” he murmured to his belly, then smiled as the movement intensified. “I thought so.”

The closer the due date got, the more they traded off being nervous and excited. A healthy combination of both reigned at their 38-week appointment.

To date, they’d been having their own little contests of sorts—like who would gain the most weight (Killian, once the nausea finally passed), whose feet would change the most (Robin’s, evidenced by the fact that he was wearing Killian’s larger shoes), whose belly would drop first (they both happened on the same day), or who could last longest before crying during Disney movies (a draw again). They were waiting to see who would have the largest belly circumference, who would go into labor first, and who would have the biggest baby, but hopefully the doctor would give some indications as to who might win those.

As they suspected, Killian outnumbered Robin in girth by a few inches—yet estimates put Robin’s baby slightly ahead in weight, if only by a few ounces. “I’m sure mine will catch up,” Killian commented matter-of-factly. “There has to be some reason my belly is larger; he or she is just saving up for a last-minute sprint.”

“Oh, is that it? It has nothing to do with the mega-stuffed Oreos you discovered last week?” Robin quipped playfully.

“Oi! You love them, too!”

As far as who might win the race to finish line, though, the doctor couldn’t say. “You’re both dilated a couple centimeters, so you’ll probably go a bit before the due date, but it’s impossible to know who will be first.”

“If you were betting, who would you put money on?” Robin asked. Their doctor, Victor, was also a close friend and was well aware of the pool Regina had going.

“Both of you, if she’d let me.”

After dinner with Regina (who was displeased to find out the inconclusivity of Victor’s assessment but was happy to inform them that Killian had the edge in the pool) and marking the belly progress in the now-furnished nursery (the lines started crossing a few weeks ago), they were relaxing at home on the couch, sharing a sarsaparilla. They sat hip-to-hip and were leaning into each other (or just weighing down the middle of the couch so that they fell towards one another), enough so that their bumps were connected, too. The babies were squirming and seemed to be fighting each other, even though they were in separate wombs. But feeling his other child press against his belly was a singular experience Robin wouldn’t trade for the world, even if it meant the one inside him was constantly hitting his kidneys.

“I can’t tell if they’re going to love each other or hate each other,” Killian assessed, watching the almost alien-like movement within their bellies.

“Probably both,” Robin answered as his baby seemed to do a somersault. “They’re definitely going to be partners in crime, though.”

“Do you wish we’d found out the genders?” Killian tucked his head onto Robin’s shoulder as he asked, then rested his palm on the top of his stomach.

“No; I’m happy with it being a surprise. The rest of this was; may as well continue it.”

“That’s fair.” Killian grew quiet, but Robin could tell he was lost in thought.

“What is it, darling?”

“It’s nothing, just…” He trailed off, but then seemed to find the words he needed. “I know at the beginning of all this, I said I didn’t want to be together just for the babies. But now, I don’t think I can picture this any other way. Maybe they were meant to bring us together; to bring down our walls.” He swallowed, and then continued. “Regardless, I’m so happy to be doing this, and with you, and I can’t wait for whatever comes our way.”

Robin had no words; anything he would have said would just be a repeat of Killian’s. So he just reached over, lifted Killian’s chin off his shoulder, and kissed him passionately. And then again. And again, shifting in his place because he couldn’t easily straddle his boyfriend.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Killian finally panted when they paused for breath, “but what does that mean?”

“It means I feel the exact same way,” Robin breathed back. “And that I have an idea for another challenge.”

“What’s that, love?”

He smirked. “You know how there are...ways...of bringing on labor? Spicy foods, exercise, certain kinds of stimulation,” he explained, reaching for Killian’s chest and grazing his sensitive nipple through the thin cotton of his shirt.

Killian shivered in response. “Aye, I see what you’re saying love. Not just a race to the end, but see who can get the other one there?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re on.”

Though nothing came of their activities that night—other than plenty of giggles as they both maneuvered their bellies around each other—they weren’t discouraged in the slightest. The next morning became a contest to see who could withstand the most jalapenos and sriracha on their eggs. An afternoon stroll had them seeing who could walk the farthest without needing a rest. And they enjoyed some of the most pleasurable evenings they could remember—until they passed out from exhaustion, of course.

Robin was reminiscing on the previous night—when his view of Killian was blocked by his bump but his nerves were exceedingly aware of him and what he was doing—while leaning against the bar during a lull on his last night of work. He’d insisted on sticking it out until he couldn’t, and while he couldn’t move with much speed, he could still mix drinks just fine. But that didn’t stop his coworkers from hovering.

They were nearby, having their own conversation, as he was reclined with a hand on his bump. But suddenly, his entire stomach clenched under his palm. He was well-acquainted with the feeling of Braxton-Hicks contractions—they’d been intermittent all day—but this was considerably stronger, drawing a brief moan from him.

“Robin? You alright?” Will asked, in front of him in an instant.

“Ask me that again in 10 minutes,” he answered after taking a deep breath.

“Do I need to call Killian?”

“Not just yet.”

He tried to get comfortable again when nothing else immediately followed, and was in the middle of mixing a shot when another one hit, making him drop the glass and reach for the edge of the bar.

Will was at his side. “It’s only been 8 minutes, mate; want me to call Killian now?”

Robin could only nod. “Yeah. It’s time. And tell him that I won this one.”

After he got the call from Will, Killian had never driven faster in his life; his old Chevelle had no idea what was going on. But the child within him seemed to, and was kicking something fierce against the steering wheel. As anxious as Killian was for Robin, it seemed this little one was eager for its sibling to arrive.

He just hoped this one would stay put long enough—and prayed that it was just false labor he’d felt on the way out to the car.

No matter what, his world was going to change over the next several hours.

thanks for reading!!! tagging @sherlockianwhovian @ashley-knightingale @jennjenn615 @wyntereyez @superadam54

#captain hood ff #robin x killian #killian x robin #mpreg #my ff #a bump in the right direction

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fallen-gravity · 7 years

Text

Kaikunāne

Brother.

Hey, @distractibledingo, remember the other night when I joked about turning this thread with @peri-plumz into a full length story, because “LOOK AT THIS, LOOK AT ALL THIS FLUFF, IT CALLS ME?”

...Whoops.

A short summary:

Maui considers Moana as part of the family. She knows he does. He’s been calling her little sister almost every day since they were 15.

She also knows that his family holds a lot of cookouts, because she’s been to a bunch of them.

Which is why it really puts Maui off that she starts getting uncomfortable when he starts describing the next one she’s going to as the family cookout.

@peri-plumz @distractibledingo @sliceoflove @crab-child @leradny @renee-niels

Almost every time there’s a long weekend coming up, Maui’s dad makes plans to have a cookout at some point during that weekend.

The first time, Maui’s family had a cookout, it was for the end of the school year. Summer was starting, and Dad made a big deal about getting all this food together and making sure the grill worked and borrowing everyone’s phones to check the weather app for the week over and over again to make sure it wasn’t going to be raining the day he insisted on having it. The entire house, as a matter of fact, was filled to the brim with ingredients and scattered cookbooks two weeks before the school year even ended.

The second time, he held one when Te Fiti came home for spring break. She was busy with school, and didn’t have a lot of time to come home during the schoolyear, so Dad put together a smaller barbecue. He still planned it weeks ahead of time, and he still kept begging Maui to check the weather app because are you sure it’s just going to be cloudy are you sure those little cloud pictures aren’t supposed to represent rain, and every time the phone rang or someone’s phone buzzed when they got a text he’d rush over and ask them who it was from just to make sure it wasn’t Te Fiti contacting him to say that she couldn’t make it after all.

Once Maui got into high school, and Punga and Tinirau went off to college, he’d host one every time they both decided to come home on the same weekend. Whether they always planned to come home together or they both just happened to start feeling homesick at the same time, Maui’s not sure, but he always used to joke and blame it on their “twin telepathy” that forced one to always feel the exact same way as the other. Because they came home relatively often, Dad had less and less time to panic over things like the weather or planning out just exactly what food he’d have to prepare and how many portions of it he’d have to make.

And once Maui entered college, Dad joked about holding one every time there was a three day weekend just to get everyone to come home and spend time with him. Later in the schoolyear, when he decided to host one for a long weekend just because there happened to be a holiday on Monday, he’d apparently completely forgotten that he made that joke at all until Maui pointed it out to him.

And just like that, it became a small tradition for the Tangaroa family. Every time there’d be a long weekend, whether for a holiday or not, Dad would host a cookout. No longer would he fuss over making sure everyone was sure they were able to come home, because the cookouts soon became the thing to look forward to on a long weekend. The weather stopped becoming a problem, too, and each time it would rain or become too cold in the winter to hold a barbecue outside he’d just shrug his shoulders and prepare everything inside instead.

Once Maui became good friends with Moana, he started inviting her to tag along. Each time he knew she’d be going home that weekend, he’d ask her just to come home with him, because they lived in the same hometown anyway, and stay at his place until the barbecue was over. Sometimes she’d stay for entire weekend, if the barbecue was on a Monday, and other times she’d just stay the night and go home the next if Dad was holding it on a Saturday. But every time Maui offered Moana to come along, she’d always accept it and tag along, and seeing her at the barbecue became such a regular occurrence to everyone else that sometimes if Punga ran into her on campus he’d tell her about the one coming up before Maui even had a chance to see her.

She got along with everyone in the family well, so everyone loved having her around. She’d mess with Maui or get messed with by Punga or sometimes she’d even help Dad on the grill if he needed the extra hand. It was a family cookout, and eventually Moana stopped being “Maui’s best friend” who showed up to the cookouts whenever she could to the “little sister” of the family who they’d all miss if something in her schedule prevented her from showing up.

Whether the cookouts were directly responsible for his entire family beginning to view Moana as one of their own, or just because she’s known them since her and Maui’s freshman year in high school, Maui’s not sure, but he’d been calling her “little sister” ever since sophomore year. It started off as a nickname he’d use to mock her, because even if she does like to rub in his face that she’s a few days older than him, she’s still eleven inches shorter than him so it doesn’t count. But eventually the name just stuck, because he eventually found himself seeing her as his second sister. And by midway through junior year in high school, he caught Punga slipping up and calling her little sister when she wasn’t even in the room to hear him say it

Either way, it’s clear to Maui that he’s not the sole member in his family who views Moana as one of their own.

He and Moana are sitting in her living room joking and laughing when his phone buzzes with a text notification. They’d decided that this weekend that he would spend the night at her place, just to make up for all of those times she claimed he “kept her from seeing her parents”. And if Maui’s going to be completely honest with himself, the change is nice, because as much as he likes going home for the weekend, dragging Moana back to his place every weekend when he hasn’t been to hers in months was starting to get old very quickly.

Not to mention that, just as his siblings seemed to change around Moana their senior year in high school, Maui noticed a similar kind of change in Tui and Sina’s change in behavior towards him.

A few weeks before graduation, when he and Moana were studying for finals, Sina came by and offered the two of them something to eat while they worked. But when Sina had approached the two of them and had asked “Is there anything you want, sweetie?” Maui had been surprised when he glanced up from his book and saw that Sina was directing her question at him.

At the time Maui had just brushed off the incident as something that happens to everyone, and maybe Sina just called all of Moana’s friends sweetie, and it didn’t really hit him until he got home that night just why she probably called him that at all. Moana’s an only child, the only child Sina and Tui ever had, so it wouldn’t surprise Maui to find out that because he spent so much time around Moana that they started viewing him as an honorary son. And that thought makes him laugh, because if his dad’s nickname for Moana is anything to go by then he clearly views her as his honorary daughter, so it would really only be fair for Moana’s parents to see him the same way.

Maui’s phone buzzes again, pulling him from his thoughts, and he opens the phone just to prevent the notification sound from going off again in another minute, but then before he can close the messaging app he sees that the text is coming in from “Professor Whale” and he stops. If he tried to ignore the notifications and open the message just to get his phone to stop buzzing, Dad would just start messaging him even more.

The text reads “I’ll see you tomorrow!!!!” surrounded on both sides by two separate whale emojis, and Maui’s about to just respond with a quick “ok” and go back to talking to Moana when another text comes in. It reads, “Is Junior still coming?” with a big grinning emoji attached to the end.

Rolling his eyes, Maui sends a quick “i’ll ask her” back before clicking his phone off and turning to face Moana beside him.

“Hey, Mo?”

“Hm?”

“I know I’ve probably asked you this a hundred times already this week, but now Dad’s insisting on hearing your confirmation himself. You’re coming to the family cookout tomorrow afternoon, right?” he asks jokingly, and Maui’s all about ready to open his phone back up and respond with a quick yes to his Dad’s text when the smile suddenly drops from Moana’s face.

But just as quickly, she catches herself, and she’s smiling again like it never slipped off of her face at all.

“Aw, is that tomorrow?” she asks, like she didn’t already know that from the constant reminders he’s been giving her all week, and her voice sounds stiff, like she’s trying to convince him she sounds shocked by the information even though he knows she’s really not. “I just realized I can’t come this time. I’m...busy with something else.”

Maui frowns. “You sure?” he asks, and snorts, gesturing vaguely around the living room that’s completely empty save for the two of them. “You don’t look very busy to me” he jokes, but it doesn’t seem to do anything to wipe the uncomfortable frown off of Moana’s face.

“Yeah”, she deadpans, and the cheer in her voice from earlier is gone. “It’s kind of last minute. There’s just a few things I need to catch up on, you know?”

Maui blinks. “I mean, sure, if you’ve actually got stuff going on, but…” he trails off, and shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

Moana snorts, and shifts in her seat so she’s not facing him anymore. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a lot of last minute homework I gotta catch up on, is all.” and then, quieter, and in a more sheepish tone, “...besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin any of your family’s fun or anything”.

...She what?

“Nahh,” Maui waves a dismissive hand, trying to make himself sound as neutral and joking as he possibly can. “It really wouldn’t be the same without you there” he says, and can’t help but grin because it’s technically true. It really wouldn’t be the same without her. There had been a few cookouts in the past where she hadn’t been able to attend for one reason or another, and the cookout just wasn’t as lively or bursting with activity without her presence there.

But instead of stopping to consider his words like he expected, Moana just snorts and waves a dismissive hand of her own. “Pfft, sure. It wouldn’t be the same without me” she mocks his voice, and shakes her head. “I appreciate that, but this is your family we’re talking about”

Moana’s hard emphasis on your family hurts more than Maui’s willing to admit, and barely catches himself on time to prevent a frown spreading to his face. “Huh?” he asks instead, pretending to sound confused by her statement. “It’s true. We’d miss you if you couldn’t show”. He snorts. “I mean, it’s not like Dad’ll cancel just because you can’t come this one time, but we’d definitely notice if you were gone. We’ve had a few without you, like when you were vacationing with your parents for spring break, and it was….incredibly boring without you there. Even Dad made a comment on it, and he was the one hosting the cookout”.

Maui grins, but when he turns to look at Moana she’s still frowning like she doesn’t believe him. Maui sighs quietly, and after waiting a short pause for her to respond to no avail he begins to speak again.

‘You’re...like an additional member of the family to us, Moana. All of us.” He says, and sparing a quick glance over at the phone sitting on the table beside the couch, he huffs in amusement. “Here, I can prove it. I ever tell you what Dad calls you behind your back?”

Moana sighs. “I...I know. I love you guys, I really do, but sometimes I feel like…” she trails off, waving a hand in the air to drop the subject, but then blinks in confusion once his last sentence registers and she seems to realize who he’s talking about.

“Professor T?” she asks, clearly eager to change the subject. “No, I don’t think so. What does he call me?”

But instead of answering her question immediately, Maui’s too caught up on the sentence she never finished. He shuffles closer to her on the couch, and rests his arm against the headrest so he can fully face her comfortably.

“Aw, no, backtrack a little bit. You know you can tell me anything if you think something’s up with my family, right? They love you to pieces, Moana. I know Punga likes to mess with you a lot when you visit, but I doubt he’s trying to pull anything when he’s calling you little sister to your face or to me when you’re not around to hear him say it. He calls you that because that’s how he sees you. That’s how all of us see you”

Maui pauses. “Well, almost all of us. You wanna know what Dad calls you when he thinks you’re not around to hear him say it? He calls you Moana Jr. Pretty sure I even overheard him say it to a colleague when I passed his office on the way to class once. I asked him about it later, and he tried to cover himself up by claiming it was so people wouldn’t think he was talking about himself in the third person or something”.

Maui laughs, and he picks up his phone and waves it around in demonstration. “But I never call him by his first name, and he just texted me asking about you using that nickname, so I have...other theories as to why he actually does it”.

Moana finally smiles, and she’s shaking her head and laughing, and Maui really can’t help but to smile in response.

“Really? Moana Jr.? That’s sweet of him” Moana says, but then she shifts again, and her bright, amused smile fades into one that’s small and almost closed off. “And...I know. You don’t need to lecture me. Punga…” she trails off shortly, and that amused smile returns to her face as she elbows him the ribs, “and you, obviously…” she continues, and Maui can’t help but to roll his eyes in amusement and chuckle softly at her gesture. “Have really always been the older brothers I never got to have”. And she smiles, and she looks like she’s going to say something else, but then she pauses, and backtracks, like she’s just now realizing what she just said.

...Come to think of it, isn’t the phrase supposed to be “the brothers she never had?” Where’s “never got to” coming from?

“What?” Maui asks, blinking at her in confusion. What do you mean you never got to have older brothers? You’re an only child, right? I thought Tui and Sina were only looking to have one kid”.

But his question only seems to have made things worse, because there Moana goes again, frowning, and she’s uncomfortably playing with her hair, and for a long moment Maui thinks she’s not going to respond until she sighs out a small puff of air.

“I...wasn’t the only kid my parents had, actually. I had an older brother, but he died when he was only a few weeks old. And...this next part is going to sound weird, but believe it or not...I was actually born a twin. My brother, he didn’t...make it. I was born 70 seconds after he was, and my parents were terrified I was going to turn out the same way as him, but…” she trails off, gesturing vaguely with her arm towards herself with a sad smile spreading to her face. “Here I am”

“Punga and Tinirau,” Moana continues. Sometimes when I’m watching them, even if they don’t seem very close, it makes me wonder, you know, what it would’ve been like if…” she trails off, and between one blink in the next Moana is staring past him with an expression of longing weighing heavily on her.

…Oh.

Oh.

Frowning, Maui winds an arm around her and places a hand on her shoulder as a means of wordless support. He wants to help her, he wants to say something to support her, but the words just aren’t coming to him right now so for the moment he hopes she’s okay with him just kind of leaning towards her and literally offering his shoulder to cry on if she needs it.

Then, a short pause, as the words do actually come to him.

“That’s...so awful, Moana, I’m so sorry your family had to go through that”.

He frowns.

“I kind of get where you’re coming from with Punga and Tinirau, though. For a few years when I was really little, I felt really isolated from my siblings. I knew they loved me, and it’s not like they didn’t actively show me they did, but…” he trails off, momentarily, and shakes his head at himself before he continues on. “I felt different from all of them because I wasn’t born into their family. Mom and Dad brought me home after everyone else was already born, so some part of me figured that I’d never be able to get as close to them as they were each other, because they brought me in last.”

He pauses to glance over at Moana beside him, and then at her living room around them, and Maui laughs.

“But the part I’m not understanding is...you’re wondering what it would be like if you ever got to have a twin brother like you don’t already have one?” He grins, and it’s wide enough that his tooth gap is visible through his lips. Before she can ask what he means, he retrieves his arm back from around her shoulder and shifts again until his full body is turned to face her.

“I’m sitting right in front of you, aren’t I?” Maui asks, and his grin softens inadvertently as he continues on. “If you’re telling me you the way Punga and Tinirau behave around each other don’t remind you of anyone else, that would really shock me, because I can think of another pair like that off the top of my head and they’re sitting on this very couch as we speak.”

His grin grows wider still.

“You and I were born a week apart from each other to the day, Moana. I think that’s about the closest to actual biological twins you can get”.

Moana’s silent for a moment, like she’s really thinking about what he says, and her small smile up at him is the only and far-too quick warning he has before she launches herself toward him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, yanking him towards her into a tight embrace in one swift, wordless movement.

“And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way” she murmurs into his shoulder, and Maui, finally blinking away the last of the shock from her gesture, winds her arms around her and holds her close to reciprocate her hug.

“Me too”. He says, but then pauses when he realizes how insensitive that could come across coming from him. “I-I mean, not the part about your brothers. It’s...I’m not saying I would’ve wanted things to turn out exactly the same if it could’ve been prevented, because I’m sure they would’ve been really cool if I ever got to meet them, and-”

He cuts himself off abruptly when he realizes he’s rambling.

“Nevermind. I wouldn’t have wanted things to turn out any differently either”

Moana laughs, and whacks him gently in the shoulder without pulling away. “Pfft, it’s fine, bro, I know what you mean” she says, and Maui snorts a laugh in response.

“Good”. Maui says, and then as an afterthought, “So, you are coming to the family cookout tomorrow, right? I think I overheard Dad on the phone with Te Fiti the other day who said she was coming home for this one, too” He grins down at her. “It’s really been a long time since we’ve had our entire family together”

Moana grins, and once they finally pull away from their hug she nudges him in the shoulder with her elbow. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m coming. It’s our family, isn’t it?” she says, and jumps up from the couch, gesturing with her head towards the front door.

“Speaking of which, actually, you think we can head over there now?” Moana grins. “It’s awfully quiet in here without my other brothers”.

#moana #modern college au #weird whānau #paper scraps #okay but my mom LOVES ending texts with random emojis and just tell me the prof wouldn't do the same thing #I'd wake up to ''good morning!'' followed by a dog emoji just because she knows how much I love dogs JDFHKDJHFKJDKDJ #TELL ME HE WOULDN'T USE A WHALE EMOJI AS A LITTLE SIGNATURE WHEN TEXTING HIS KIDS #he'd just send ''good luck on that test!!'' and follow it up with THREE WHALE EMOJIS #because he ABSOLUTELY WOULD

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pengychan · 7 years

Text

The Mind Cage, Ch. 13

Title: The Mind Cage Summary: In another world, Stanford Pines places a metal plate in his skull far too soon. In another world, Bill Cipher is in the wrong place at the wrong time. Characters: Bill Cipher, Ford Pines, Stan Pines, Fiddleford McGucket Rating: T Click here for the first chapter, warnings and links to all chapters up so far.

A/N: welp, this is almost over. There is another chapter left - and epilogue of sorts - and I’ll do my best to finish it soon, so that I can update next Friday and wrap this up.

***

Bill’s mind burned, and so did Stanford.

He was aware, dimly, of what was happening around him. Of the boat sailing through the air, flames at their heels, hot wind filling its sails and blowing through his hair. He was aware of arms around him, a shoulder against his cheek, Stanley’s voice, telling him to hold on, we’re almost out, stay with me, don’t you dare, stay with me.

I’ll be the one to take you down with me!

“Stanford, please…!”

He tried to reply - tried to speak to Stanley, tried to scream against Bill, but could do neither. His jaw wouldn’t move, his eyes wouldn’t open. He could only tremble in the grasp of that unnatural fever, the heat unbearable, eating at him from the inside out. It burned. He burned.

And, beneath his closed eyelids, he saw things he was not supposed to see - disjointed images there one moment and gone the next, like a tape on fast-forward.

Things belonging to other dimensions. Other timelines. Other realities. Bill’s memories, and his own - flashing before his eyes and then gone, photographs thrown in the fire and forgotten, burned away from his memory.

A world burning with blue fire A closed door leading to an empty room The pull of the portal dragging him in The look on Stan’s face one moment before he fell through A being with seven eyes towering over him Fighting for his life in a nonsensical world and that pull, taking him back Stan’s face, much older, smiling at him Children, there were children, who were they, why would children be there-- Just like me just like I was at his age A rift no no there shouldn’t be a rift there couldn’t be one If he gains physical form all is lost ALL IS LOST, oh God, a wound bleeding in the sky No don’t do this where are they are they safe Madness this is madness I brought about the end of the world my fault all my fault No the kids where are the kids LEAVE THEM, LEAVE THEM ALO-- I’ll give you anything! Fame! Money! Riches! Your own galaxy! Please! STANLEY!

“STANFORD!”

Bill’s scream pierced through his mind, like a spear of ice, and for a moment the heat almost died down. For a moment he felt almost cold, and he clung to that one moment of clarity. When Bill screamed again, Stanford could make out words. No - only one word.

“AAAAAGH! A-AH… AXOLOTL!”

Praise the Axolotl, someone had told him in another reality. Or had they? He didn’t remem--

That thought was cut short by another scream - louder, longer, wordless. And he knew, with utmost certainty, that it was to be the last.

There was light, blinding, even through his closed eyelids. The flames enveloping Bill Cipher’s mindscape flared brightly one more time, and then… then…

A crack like thunder echoed all around them, painfully loud, and the shockwave came moments afterwards, hitting them with unspeakable force. The boat was thrown across the thin line between mindscapes, crashing on the non-existent ground, only one instant before Bill Cipher’s mind imploded in a bright flash of light. Then, nothingness. For a time.

When Stanford Pines opened his eyes again, he found himself looking at the stars.

***

“Hot. Belgian. Waffles.”

“Owww, that hurt.”

“I can’t find my glasses…”

“Wait, I think I’ve seen ‘em…”

With a groan, Stan pushed a piece of what had been the boat’s mast off himself and sat up. He was really, really happy that he wasn’t physically there, or else he’d have felt that for weeks to come. He rubbed his head, glanced around to find Stanford… and stilled, mouth hanging open.

They were in space.

“What the…?” he muttered, standing up on… on nothing, it seemed. It was like walking on a thin sheet of glass: stars and galaxies were below him, above him, all around him. Pieces of wood were scattered around, some still and some floating in the air. Behind him, young Stanford was putting his glasses back on while young Stanley pushed a few planks of wood off him; Stan was about to call out when a scroll floated past him, and he reached for it out of instinct - only to still when a voice rang out. A wonderfully familiar voice, calm and yet full of something not too far away from wonder.

“My Mindscape is back to normal.”

Stanford was standing only a few feet from him, a hand to his head where the surgery scar had to be, head tilted back and gaze fixed on the stars. Then he turned and stared at Stan in quiet wonder; he looked well again, healthy, and not at all like the wreck Stan had held only minutes - moments? - earlier, feverish and hot as embers. Under Stan’s stunned gaze, his face opened in a smile.

“He’s gone. He’s really gone, and I’m still here. You… we have won.”

Damn right we have won, Stan wanted to say. Don’t you dare give me another scare like that ever again, he wanted to add. He wanted to grab him and shake him so hard his stupid teeth would chatter. He wanted to punch him and hold him, and laugh and cry and scream all at once - and maybe he would have done just that if given only one more instant.

But then another voice rose, high and panicked, and the moment was gone.

“Bill? Where are you? Billy? BILL!”

The triangle kid - the other one, the one with tilted and uneven sides Billy had called Liam - was standing among the wreckage of the boat, looking incredibly tiny in all that vastness. His eye was wide, but he didn’t spare a glance to the wonders around them: he just looked at them and, despite the incredibly limited features he had to convey any expression at all, there was no mistaking what kind of look that was. The kid was terrified.

“Have you… have you seen my brother?” he asked, his voice thin as paper.

“I, uh…” Stan began, but fell quiet, at a loss for words. Stanford seemed just as surprised, and then suddenly thoughtful at seeing the kid again; he seemed about to speak, but someone else did first. Young Stanley.

“He’s here! He’s got to be here!” he exclaimed, and ran back to the wreckage. He lifted a plank, then another, throwing them aside and calling out. “Billy! Hey, c’mon! Get outta there! Where are you?”

There was no answer, but the boy didn’t let it stop him - stubborn, he’d always been stubborn as a damn mule - and young Stanford was by his side the next moment, helping him move the wrecked wood.

Maybe he’s gone as well, Stan thought, and he could see that same thought mirrored in Ford’s expression, but then his gaze moved on to Liam, who stood miserably and full of confusion.

Have you seen my brother?

To hell with it, he wasn’t gone. If that Liam was still there - a tiny part of Cipher, a memory that belonged to him - then Billy should be, too. Stan took a few steps forward to help, more out of instinct than anything else, and that was when he heard it. They all heard it.

“Oow, my eye…!”

“Billy!”

Liam darted towards the source of the voice right away, almost stumbling forward, just as little Stanford pulled away a broken piece of what used to be the hull. Billy sat up, groaning and rubbing his eye. “Uuugh. Did someone see the license plate of the truck that--”

“BILL!”

“Whoa! Hey! Easy!”

But of course his brother didn’t go easy at all: he clung to him, blabbered, cried, asked a million questions and then if he was really all right, all in the same breath. He hardly seemed to notice when Ford walked up to them, knelt and, calmly, took them both in his hands. Only then Liam turned up to look at him, registered anyone else’s presence.

“It seems some explanations are in order,” Stanford said quietly, then, “I am sorry, Billy. For not telling you everything.”

Still caught in his older brother’s grasp, and clearly not really eager to be freed from it to begin with, Bill frowned for just a moment. “He lied to you, didn’t he?”

“He did,” Ford admitted. “Trusting him was a mistake. Holding you accountable was another.”

Billy seemed to think about it just for a moment before shrugging. “Take us back to the beach,” he said. “I want to show him the sand and the sea and everything. Then we’ll be even. Deal?”

Stanford’s lips quirked in a smile. “It’s a deal,” he said, and looked at Liam. “Don’t worry, young man. You and your brother are safe as you can be.”

***

“... And that’s the ocean! That’s where the whales live! And that’s the sun and we shouldn’t stare at it, but I do it anyway! This color is called ‘blue’, that one’s yellow and it’s my favorite! And there is a thing called ice cream you’ve got to try! Stanley, get us ice cream!”

To his credit, young Stanley did seem to remember what Ford had told him about never giving Bill anything with even the slightest amount of caffeine, because he paused and turned to glance at him as though to ask for permission. Ford nodded, mouthing ‘strawberry’ - better than chocolate, all in all - and smiled faintly when Stanley made a bucket’s worth of ice cream appear out of thin air. Within moments all four kids were sitting in the sand, eating spoonfuls of it, Billy’s voice still going on and on through mouthfuls to explain Liam everything he could see. Ford’s smile widened for a moment, and then he turned his gaze back down on the notebook.

“You’re such a nerd, you know? What’s the point taking notes in your mind?” Stanley asked. He was sitting next to him on the old swing set, basking in the sun that warmed the beach, making its sand shimmer. It hadn’t been much of a beach in the real world - hence its name - but there, in the mindscape, through the filter of fond childhood memories, it seemed the best possible place on Earth.

“I have been on the receiving end of that accusation a fair amount of times,” he conceded, and finished the last sentence before putting the pen back in his pocket, gaze lingering on his notes. While it was true that upon awakening he would find himself without any actual notes, the act of writing itself helped him memorize a great deal. If he wrote something in his mind, he’d be certain he’d remember it all down to the last word when he woke up.

Not that there had been that much for him to write.

***

Billy’s knowledge is limited, only spacing from his very first memories up to the moment the memory of him, as he is, was created; Bill showed him his world going up in flames, but gave him no hindsight as to why or how he did it.

This means he could shed no light on Bill’s rise to power; how he acquired his powers in the first place, and the destruction that followed, will remain a tale untold. Perhaps it is for the best. I shudder at the thought of what must have transpired and, for what is perhaps the first time in my life, I do not wish to know.

What he could give me was a clearer picture of what Bill’s dimension of origin was like. He described a world devoid of color, inhabited by Lines - female - and Shapes - male. A strict class system was in place, one’s lot in life depending on the number of their sides. Women were not considered creatures of much intellect, if any at all, regardless their class. Among males, the Isosceles Triangles were at the very bottom of the social scale; Equilaterals followed, as the merchant class, then Squares, going higher in importance as their sides rose in number. According to Bill, who’s the perfect definition of an Equilateral, he was born from Isosceles parents - a rare occurrence, it seems - and then adopted by Regular parents, Liam’s own. How much of it is true and how much is simple boasting is something I have yet to establish.

Triangles begeting Squares wasn’t unusual, but not very common either: it usually took at least three generations of Equilaterals and very careful breeding to produce one. Every shape from the Square upwards would gain a side with each generation; when a Polygon had such a high number of sides to be considered circular, then he was a Circle - the highest class, and rulers of the Second Dimension.

But perhaps what I wrote is untrue. It was not the Isosceles who were at the very bottom, nor the Lines: it was the Irregulars, of which Liam is an example. Bill’s description of Irregulars in their society gave me the impression they were not quite a class: too low to be considered one. They were mishaps: their world praised Regularity, and their mismatched sides made them pariah. My own experiences as a boy due to my extra finger quite simply pale in comparison of their treatment.

Irregular children were allowed to grow to the age of fifteen, giving them a chance for their Irregularity to fix itself at least to a degree. If it did, then they would pass an inspection and deemed fit to live, if always at the very outskirts of society. If they did not, they would be taken away to be terminated.

And that is the fate that befell Liam. It is one of the very last things Billy remembers, along with finding books speaking of the Third Dimension - our own dimension - hidden away in Liam’s room after he was taken away. I can only begin to guess the reasons Bill may have had to lock away all memories of Liam. I wonder what Stanley would have done if I were in Liam’s place. I wonder what I would have

As much as I wished to ask Liam about those books, where he found them and what his knowledge of our dimension was, I refrained. He seems an intelligent boy, but he is overwhelmed as things are, unaware of being a memory himself - the real Liam long gone - until only hours ago; perhaps my younger self will be able to get more information out of him in time, in a less traumatic fashion. For time being, I’ll leave him to enjoy what this version of our dimension has to offer.

One of the things that surprised me is how both of these memories are still here while, I am certain, the mind where they were created is gone - every connection with mine severed. I will need to think about it, but at the moment I can hazard a guess: after I met them, they became my memories as well. This allows them to exist, as their own individuals, within my Mindscape - just like the memories of myself and Stanely do.

This opens up quite a few exciting possibilities about the nature of memories, and I shall look into it. Not just yet, though.

First, a vacation.

***

“I never said I was sorry.”

Stan’s sudden statement caused Ford to look up from his notes, blinking. Stanley making the seat swing slowly, feet still touching the ground, and kept his eyes fixed on the Stan O’ War - the version of it that was still at the very start of its repairs. “Sorry for what?”

“Your perpetual motion machine. You know I didn’t mean to break it, right?”

He did. Ford could tell now that, deep down, he’d always known. “The fault was mine. I came to the worst possible conclusion without even listening to you, and--”

“Our old man didn’t really give me a chance to speak, anyway,” Stan cut him off with a shrug, and looked down. He shuffled his feet on the sand. “But I had the time to say something, and it was all the wrong stuff. I should have said I was sorry. It was your dream, I took it from you, and then I acted like all was well. Like it didn’t matter at all.”

Ford sighed. “It certainly doesn’t matter at all now, Stanley.”

“I held you back--”

“All you held me back from was throwing myself from the water tower last week.”

The remark caused Stan to turn to look at him, eyes wide. He stared for a few moments, then he let out a long breath. The swing stilled. “Holy Moses. It was that close, wasn’t it?”

There was a knot somewhere in his throat, and keeping his voice firm took Ford a valiant effort. “Yes. But you came for me and then just refused to leave. You took on a demon for me while I didn’t even try to stop dad from throwing you out.”

Stan gave a barking laugh. “Hah! Really now, you make it sound like out old man ain’t the biggest threat out of the two! But I’m totally gonna drop by now, whether he wants it or not.”

His lips curling in a smile against his own will, Ford allowed himself a chuckle before readying himself to tell Stan about their father. There had been no time to speak of it, but now he should at least tell him. “... About our father, there is something you should know,” he said. He stared at the sea, but he could feel his brother’s gaze on him. “He… Well. First of all, the night he threw you out… what he said about you making millions--”

“He never thought I’d be back with any money,” Stan cut him off, his voice sounding far too casual to be genuine. “Let alone with millions. He thought I was gonna come back with my tail between my legs in a few weeks tops.”

“You knew…?”

“I guessed.”

“He would have taken you back in--”

“And never let me hear the end of it,” Stanley cut him off, and shrugged. “So, I had to at least try. And I tried, really, but… yeah. Didn’t work out too well - all I got was a crime record a mile long, while you were busy making deals with three-sided Beelzebub or something.”

“We’re a disaster,” Ford sighed, and Stan laughed.

“Yep, true. But hey, on the bright side, we just destroyed a demon and averted a much bigger disaster. Not bad for a nerd and a dork, all things considered. After this, I think the world can make an effort and deal with us two. Not that bad of a ego boost, really. I had hit rock bottom not too long ago. The place I was in when I got your postcard--” he trailed off, and blinked. “Wait a minute. Ford, how did you know where I was?”

“Your crime record,” Ford said. “Law enforcement across the country is relying more and more on the Internet to exchange information. Fiddleford built something that… allows me to access to some of it, if I want to.”

Stanley blinked. “What, seriously? You can get that kind of info and didn’t use it to get rich off it?” he asked, sounding nothing short of incredulous. This time, it was Ford to laugh: the thought of selling information for cash was as plain on Stan’s face as the glasses on his own.

“Well. I’d say I put it to a better use than that.”

“And what would that be?”

“Finding you.”

There was a moment of silence, then Stan turned away abruptly. “Not fair. That was a low blow,” he mumbled, reaching up to quickly wipe his eyes with a sleeve. “Geez, if dad could see me now…”

Something about that off-hand comment truly hurt, because it reminded Ford that he hadn’t yet gotten to tell him about their father, and it was about time he did. “He… Stanley, our father is not quite the same as--” he began, but it soon became clear that would have to wait: before his eyes, Stan’s form began flickering.

“What the heck…?”

“It seems that your body is about to awaken. You have been in here for a long time.”

“Why aren’t you waking up?”

“I was given a powerful sedative. I will awaken in due time, do not worry,” Ford said, promising himself he and Stanley would talk more about their family - about their father’s condition and what that had meant to all of them - in due time. Perhaps it was for the best he didn’t get to mention it now: the least he could do was letting him enjoy that victory in peace. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

Stanley nodded with a grin. “Aye aye, captain,” he muttered, and stood. As his form flickered again, he brought his hands to his mouth and called out. “HEY! KIDS! Don’t give Ford too much of a headache, promise?”

Of course neither of their younger selves was willing to let him leave without one more high five or six, although young Stanley had to try twice due to the fact his hand became incorporeal for a few moments - and of course it was a noisy goodbye. Nestled in his hair, Billy - once again a bright yellow, not thanks to paint but because of his newfound knowledge he could will himself to be any color he wanted - reached up to shake his finger.

“You’re gonna drop by again, right?” he asked, and Stan grinned down at him.

“You bet - all I need to do is saying some Latin crap anyhow,” he said, and glanced at Liam. Now a greenish cyan rather than gray, he sat on young Stanford’s shoulder; he seemed still unsure of what he should make of his current situation, but far less scared than he’d been at first. “Hey, kiddo. Don’t think we really had the time to talk, with Sixer givin’ you the third degree. Next time, huh? Enjoy the place meanwhile. And make him try toffee peanuts, Little Stan! Don’t let your brother just feed them jelly beans! Toffee peanuts are the best thing since--”

They never got to find out what he had been about to compare it to: he flickered one last time and then he was just gone in a flash of faint blue light. Liam blinked at the spot where he had been standing moments before, bewildered, then turned his eye to Billy.

“... What’s a toffee? What’s a peanut?”

Billy shrugged, still sitting on young Stanley’s head. “Beats me. Hey, Stan! What’s a toffee peanut?”

The boy’s face lit up in delight, and he reached to take Liam from his brother’s shoulder, his grin wide enough to split his face, and walked back towards the boat. “It’s the food of the gods, that’s what! Let me show you…!”

A look between Ford and his younger self was enough to tell that they were both wondering how could anybody enjoy eating that garbage, but they had enough sense not to say anything - or almost. “I’ll fight it with jelly beans,” young Stanford whispered before running after them.

Ford chuckled, then sat on the swing set again and watched them from a distance. He would probably awaken any moment, but until then he may as well relax and enjoy watching his childhood right before him, frozen in time.

***

“THE HELL DOES IT MEAN, YOU HAD TO FREEZE HIM?”

“Weren’t you listening? That thing took hold of his body, and I had to contain--”

“Well, now the thing is gone! So GET MY BROTHER OUTTA THERE, or so help me-- whoa!” Stan trailed off with a yelp when McGucket suddenly ducked to grab something and then that something - a freakin’ iron bar - suddenly hit the wall just beside his head. Stan took a few steps aside, startled, and McGucket pointed the bar at him like a sword.

“Look, fella. I’ve had a bad day,” he said, his voice dangerously even, and Stan realized just then how reddened his eyes were. He paused and swallowed. All right, maybe he shouldn’t have just snapped and started screaming, but what the hell. He’d left his brother looking healthy and happy, and awoke to find him frozen in some tube, features twisted in the horrified expression of a caged animal desperate to claw its way out. Of course he knew it hadn’t been Stanford to make that face, but still…!

“Huh. Yeah, I can see that now that you mention--”

“A very bad day. I’m going to get Ford outta there with or without you yelling at me. But if you do yell again, then you said it yourself - so help you.”

Stan threw up his hands. “Right! Okay! Sorry,” he said quickly. “I… just got worried. Sorry. Gonna pay for a drink later, what do you think?” he added, fully knowing he had no money and that therefore he’d have to use Stanford’s to begin with. “I mean, Cipher is gone for good. Gotta go celebrate, right?”

With a long sigh, McGucket lowered the iron bar and then let it fall on the floor with a clatter. His shoulders slumped for a moment, but when he straightened himself it was as though a terrible weight had been lifted from them. He met Stan’s gaze and even gave something remarkably similar to a smile. “... Yes. A drink would be nice. It… it’s over, isn’t it?”

Stan smiled back. “Yes. It’s over,” he said, and kicked the iron bar away. It rolled across the floor with more clattering and ended up in some dark corner. “Now let’s thaw Poindexter and go celebrate.”

***

“Boys, you look terrible. What has happened to you?”

For a few moments, none of them said anything to answer Susan’s question: they just exchanged a silent look. Out of the three of them, only Stan was in a reasonably good shape, if rather scruffy-looking. Stanford was on the mend, but he was still paler and skinnier than he had any right to be, his growing hair barely hiding the surgery scar on his head. McGucket had his wrist in a cast, dark shadows under still reddened eyes. In the end, it was him to speak.

“... Car accident?”

“Car accident,” Ford echoed.

“Totally a car accident,” Stan confirmed, and turned back to Susan with a grin. “You see, Mr. Mysterious Science Guy in the Woods totally forgot that triangular road signs stand for danger, and got us in a ditch. The car caught fire and all but hey, good thing I was there to pull them both out! All by myself,” he added, leaning on the counter and entirely missing the unimpressed look his brother and McGucket exchanged. All he paid attention to was Susan’s obvious swooning, which he hoped would be followed by free food to go with their drinks.

It was.

“Did I just watch you seduce the Greasy’s waitress to get free food?”

“Yep. You’re welcome,” Stan said through a mouthful of meatloaf. They didn’t bother keeping their voices too low: Susan was in the back, and the only person in the Diner aside from them was a red-headed teen - Boyish Dan, Stanford had called him - struggling to get the jukebox at the far end of the room working.

“You do realize I could have paid for it, right?”

“Hey, free food is the best food. Free everything is the best,” Stan pointed out, then grabbed his drink. “So. Ding-Dong! The witch is dead. Burned to a crisp. Wanna toast to that? Hah, get it? ‘Cause he’s toast!”

McGucket gave what was probably the only genuine laugh Stan had heard from him until that moment, and raised the glass as well. “You bet,” he said, then glanced at Stanford. “He’s really gone, isn’t he? Gone for good?”

For the briefest of moments, Stanford’s gaze met Stan’s own. It was barely a glance, but more than enough for him to guess precisely what - or rather who - his brother was thinking off: a tiny shred of Bill who still existed within his mind, the memory of what he’d been at some point a long time ago. But that was what he was: a memory. Bill Cipher himself was gone, burned away from existence. So, in the end, Stanford replied with no hint of hesitation.

“Yes. He is gone,” he said, and raised his glass as well.

At the far end of the room, the red-headed teen finally succeeded in getting the jukebox to work - but, taken as they were with their toast, none of them paid any attention to the music.

We’ll meet again Don’t know where, don’t know when But I know we’ll meet again Some sunny day…

***

“So… It is a goodbye, then.”

Stanford’s voice was quiet and, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep sadness entirely out of it. He remembered how happy he’d been when Fiddleford had joined him there - he hadn’t know how lonely he had truly felt, despite Bill’s presence, until then - and seeing him go left a sour taste in his mouth. He knew it wouldn’t the happiest of homecomings, with divorce papers awaiting him in California, and he couldn’t shake off the thought it had been his fault.

If only I hadn’t involved him, if only I listened to him, if only I trusted him, if only--

“I’d prefer to call it ‘until next time’,” Fiddleford said, interrupting his thoughts. He had his coat draped over his shoulders, a suitcase in his good hand and another at his feet. He was so eager to return home and see his son again that he had no intention to wait until his wrist had healed enough for him to drive to return home - hence why they were all standing at the only bus stop in town, waiting for Fiddleford’s ride to come. “Don’t look at me like that, buddy. I’ll be fine. She said she wants things to stay civil and all we both want is for Tate to be happy, so it’s gonna work out. Somehow. At least I’m going to be there, and that’s something, right?”

All too aware of Stanley’s steady presence behind him, Ford smiled. “Yes. It’s what matters the most,” he said, and held out his hand. He expected Fiddleford to take it, but instead he suddenly ducked down to put one of his suitcases down and open it.

“Before I forget…” he mumbled, reaching into it, and pulled out something - a thesis paper of all things - and put it in Ford’s outstretched hand. He took a look at the front page, and his heart seemed to skip a beat.

The Astonishing Anomalies of Gravity Falls, by Stanford Pines, PhD.

It was the paper Fiddleford had written for him in secret, categorizing his discoveries for him to publish, and all to try getting his mind off the portal, away from his obsession. The paper he had written and offered to him without asking for anything in return, not even credit.

There are enough discoveries here to make you a multimillionaire. Forget about the portal and the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness! Publish this, get your life back, and move on!

But he had done none of those things. As a thank you for so much work, for so much selflessness, all that Ford had done was mistrusting him - believing Bill’s words over his friend’s only because that monster said what he wanted, and not what he needed, to hear. He had thought he had wanted to stop him from changing history, to take the merit for himself, while all he had wanted to do all along was to help him. He hadn’t let him, and still he had kept trying; he had been there for a test he was terrified about, standing by his side, and nearly paid for Ford’s own folly with his sanity.

“Fiddleford--”

“I still think you should publish it, you know,” Fiddleford was saying. “It’s huge, Stanford, and it can make you rich.”

After all that happened, he truly would let me publish this with my name alone on it?

“Hey, what’s that?” Stanley was asking behind him. “What’s this about getting rich?”

“It may need a bit of proofreading and a few tweaks - I was rather tired when I worked on it - but other than that--” Fiddleford trailed off with a surprised noise when Ford reached out suddenly to pull him close in a tight hug.

Perhaps too tight, as he had forgotten, for a moment, of his broken wrist. “Yowch!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Stanford said quickly, letting him go and choosing to ignore Stan’s mumbled suggestion to ‘get a room’. “Fiddleford, this is… I have done nothing to deserve--”

A honking noise caused him to trail off as the bus to California pulled to a stop beside them, the door opening. As the driver got off the bus to pick up Fiddleford’s suitcases, clearly having spotted the cast on his arm, Stanford’s old friend smiled. “Think nothing of it, buddy.”

“If I do publish this, your name will be on it right alongside mine,” Stanford said. “Actually, your name should be there first.”

“Nah, don’t do it,” Stan said, crossing his arms. “His ex would take half his slice of cake. Just give him part of the money in cash after meeting in a shady motel, so that no one knows, or… what? What’s so funny?” he protested when both Ford and Fiddleford laughed.

His chuckle dying down, Fiddleford held out his good hand. “Can we do this without breaking my other wrist?” he asked, causing Stan to roll his eyes.

“Look, your started it, okay?” he said, but he was grinning when he reached out to shake his hand. “You know, you’re not half bad for a nerd. Have a nice trip back. So, you’re leaving your car here for good, or…?”

“I’ll return to pick it up when I’m fit to drive,” Fiddleford replied. “I’d appreciate finding it again.”

“Of course.”

“With the engine still in place and all of the tires on.

“Who do you take me fo--”

“And with gas in it. I know there is some left.”

“Fine, fine!” Stanley muttered, rolling his eyes. “Sheesh! How about a little trust here?”

Trust no one.

Fiddleford laughed. “I guess I can try. I assume you’re not off to… wherever you were before, right?”

“Nope,” Stanley smirked, reaching to put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “I ain’t going nowhere.”

There had been a time when that statement would have made Stanford feel like he was suffocating, and then guilty for feeling that way. But now, standing in the sun as his best friend climbed on his bus home and with his brother’s hand on his shoulder, his mind once again entirely his own, he felt neither. He only felt free.

“So,” Stanley finally spoke up once the bus disappeared from sight. “When are we going home? Can’t wait to see Ma again, but maybe it would be best to wait until you’ve got more hair back and look a bit less like a scarecrow, huh? Just to avoid givin’ her the scare of her life. No worries, I’m sure I can get more than enough pies out of Swooning Susan to put some meat on those bones, and… is something wrong?”

Inwardly cursing himself for the frown he had allowed to show on his face, Ford shook his head. “No, no. It’s all right. It’s just… well…” he struggled to find words, and the next moment Stan was looking at him closely, clearly worried.

“Is it about the stuff you saw? From other realities? ‘Cause look, I can tell you that this is real, that you’re safe and all. Want me to take my shirt off again? ‘Cause I’ll do that in a sec if--”

“No, not at all!” Ford said quickly. “It’s not that. Whatever glimpses I got of other realities, they’re gone now. And I hardly remember anything of what I saw,” he added. That was true: he remember bits and pieces if he tried - kids, in one reality there were kids and I didn’t want Bill to hurt them - but he had little doubt they would fade soon. Even now, the more he tried to cling to details, the more they seemed to elude him, like water running through his fingers. It was a relief, for the most part, but there was a part of him that almost mourned for that loss, for the wealth of knowledge now gone, for the worlds he would never get to see for real.

The portal is still there, and now that Bill is gone… with the proper modifications...

Ford forced himself to ignore the thought, holding the thesis paper against his chest instead, and decided it would be best to change subject - just one moment before Stanley took it upon himself to do just that.

“Oh, good. Sorry, can’t help but worry. Must be a big brother thing.”

Oh, for heaven’s--!

“Stanley, you are not the big brother. We’re twins to begin with, and I either way I was the first to be bor--”

“Yeah, by ten minutes. Shame that you were frozen solid for a couple of hours. Can you age while frozen? Nope, didn’t think so! Which makes me about a hour and fifty minutes older now!”

“That’s not relevant--”

“Suck it up! Alpha twin! Alpha twin!” Stanley chanted, improvising a little dance. “Man, I wish I could tell the old man about all this! But it would mean having to explain a lot of crap we better keep secret, huh?”

The mention of their father caused all amusement - and a small measure of childish annoyance; truth was that Stanley had a point, technically, and Ford had enjoyed being the older twin - to fade suddenly, replaced by something that weighed like a rock in his chest. It was about time he and Stanley spoke of their family. It couldn’t be delayed any further.

“When we return home,” he finally forced himself to say, “you’ll find our father is not quite the same anymore.”

Stanley’s smug expression immediately turned to confusion, then into alarm. “What do you mean? Did he shave his mustache? Take off his shades and get blinded by the sun?” he asked, his smile not at all believable. Ford couldn’t bring himself to smile at the half-hearted joke, either, so he just kept talking.

“He began showing signs of dementia four years ago. Nothing too noticeable at first, but he’s been steadily getting worse ever since,” Ford said, trying to keep his voice gentle, and Stanley reared back as though struck.

“What-- you’re kidding, right? I mean, he ain’t that old! He’s like, what, sixty-five?”

“It’s early onset dementia. It does happen, and… it happened to him.”

For a few moments, Stanley said nothing. The he dug his hands into his coat’s pockets, lowered his gaze and set his jaw. He seemed lost in thought for a few more instants, then, “Does he remember kickin’ me out?”

“I… honestly don’t know.”

“Does he remember me at all?” his brother pressed on. His tone was casual, but his body language was that of someone bracing for a blow, and Ford was immensely relieved he wouldn’t have to deal it.

“Yes,” Ford said quickly, and held up his hands when Stanley shot him a look at was in equal parts hopeful and doubtful. “Honest! He remembers you for sure. He did last time - he asked where you were, a few times. No, several times. There was one time, I… I pretended to be you, to make him stop,” Stanford admitted, looking away. Switching places was something they had done often as children, always worth a laugh, but when he’d done it for their father he hadn’t felt like laughing at all. It had been horrible, almost as hard as watching their mother make plans, against all hope, of what they would do together as a family when Stan came back. At least now that dream was about to come true.

More silence, then, finally, Stanley turned to leave. “I don’t know where I was when he asked,” he finally said, his voice low. “But I know where I’m gonna be in two weeks’ time.”

He said nothing more, but of course Ford didn’t need him to specify. They both knew where they were going next.

Home.

***

[Back to Chapter 12]

[On to Chapter 14]

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #bill cipher #fiddleford mcgucket

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adorkablephil · 7 years

Text

Fic: Squish

Summary: Dan gains some weight, but it doesn't change how Phil sees him. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3K Tags: Body Image, Weight Gain, Getting Together, Blow Jobs, Self-Esteem Issues, Hurt/Comfort Trigger Warnings: Weight-related stuff and body image issues

Squish

It had already been going on for a while the first time Phil mentioned it, but Dan had been avoiding the conversation as best he could. The shame was just too much.

It was a Wednesday, and he’d gone shopping, but had brusquely dismissed Phil’s offer to come with him before running out the door and locking it quickly behind him. When he returned, he’d found Phil sitting on the sofa in the lounge with a serious expression on his face.

Dan, shopping bags in his hands, faced his friend and asked testily, “What?”

Phil sighed and brushed a hand along his fringe, tucking a bit behind his ear as was his nervous habit. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

Dan looked away, then nodded reluctantly. How could he refuse Phil? “Let me put these bags in my room and I’ll be right back.”

In his room, he stiffened his spine, knowing what was coming. Phil was finally going to bring it up. Dan was dreading the conversation, but he’d known it would come eventually.

He went back out into the lounge and sat on the sofa, his jeans binding his waist painfully. Well, he’d be able to fix that as soon as they’d gotten this over with.

Phil didn’t hesitate, looking very concerned. “Dan, I know something’s wrong. You haven’t been acting like yourself and you’re just looking … unhappy. I’m worried the pills aren’t working anymore.”

Dan flinched. “Oh, they’re working. Believe me, they’re working plenty.” It had been a month since Dan’s doctor had recommended he give anti-depressants a try. He’d just been having a particularly hard time lately, and the pills had seemed to help. He was thinking about death less often, spending less time lying face down in the hallway feeling hollowed out and empty. But … the side-effects.

Phil was watching him, obviously concerned. “Then what’s going on? You always like me to come with you when you go shopping, but today you really blew me off when I asked.”

Dan gritted his teeth. Here we go. “I was going out to buy new jeans, okay?” he snapped. “Because these ones are too small now. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed that I’ve gotten fat!” The doctor had cautioned him that the medication might cause him to gain weight, but he hadn’t taken the warning seriously. What were a few pounds? He was no slave to society’s beauty standards! So he’d been surprised at how much it bothered him when it happened.

Phil looked taken aback. “You’ve gained weight?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh spare me! Like you hadn’t noticed! I’m hideous!” He’d been avoiding wearing his fashionable shirts for the past few weeks, not wanting anyone to notice the changes. He couldn’t hide the increased roundness of his face, of course, but baggy jumpers could hide his body at least. He was surprised no one had mentioned it in the live show chat yet.

Phil put a hand on Dan’s arm and said gently, “I think you’re being self-conscious, Dan. If you’ve gained weight, it really isn’t noticeable. And even if it was, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right? You’d still be you.”

Dan pulled away from Phil’s touch. “I make my living on the Internet, with people looking at me all the time. Of course it matters what I look like. Of course it matters if I get fat!”

Phil shook his head slightly, but Dan cut him off before he could say anything else. “Now if you don’t mind I’m going to go change into some new jeans that aren’t cutting off my fucking circulation,” and he stormed out of the room.

Dan continued to gradually gain more weight over the next few weeks, but then the increase seemed to level out. He’d gained nearly 14 kg and he felt like a grotesque whale. Fans had finally noticed, and some had mentioned it in comments on his videos and in the live show chat. Some had even posted tweets calling him “fat.” It made him cringe every time he saw that word.

To be fair, every time someone posted a comment or tweet like that, other fans jumped to his defense and said really nice things: compliments about his looks, arguments against judging people based on their weight, insistence that the difference was really minor, stuff like that. But it didn’t stop him from feeling terrible about it.

He’d completely shifted his wardrobe now, focusing on camouflaging his body as best he could. He didn’t want anyone to see. He thought about stopping taking the pills. He thought about it every day. Was it worth it? Was it really worth it? But he didn’t want to go back to the pit of darkness he’d been in before the pills. So he kept taking them, but he hated his body more every day.

Phil watched him all the time, and it only made him more self-conscious. Phil said he was just worried that Dan might be getting depressed again, but Dan always snapped that he just wanted Phil to stop looking at him. He wanted everyone to stop looking at him.

He started canceling half his live shows, not wanting to see the weight-related comments in the chat, even if they were attempting to be reassuring. It was just evidence that everyone had noticed.

He’d never thought of himself as a vain person, but suddenly he just hated how he looked and found himself obsessively looking in the mirror, noticing every bit of pudge, hating the roundness of his face, stomach, and thighs.

Hating his body, he started to hate himself.

It was another couple weeks before Phil brought it up again. He was probably afraid to mention it after Dan’s reaction the first time, but Dan couldn’t bring himself to talk about the issue calmly. It just upset him too much.

It had been more than a month since Dan had uploaded a video to his main YouTube channel, and he had spent a couple of painful live shows pointedly ignoring questions and comments about his weight in the chat. He really didn’t want to talk about it.

But Phil brought it up one evening when they were sitting down for dinner in front of the tv. Dan had started eating exclusively vegan again, hoping that the diet would help him lose some of the weight, but thus far it hadn’t helped.

“The weight thing really bothers you that much?” Phil asked quietly, raising his fork to his mouth and chewing slowly, gesturing toward the small portion on Dan’s plate.

Dan scowled. He considered not answering, but finally said, “Yeah. I know it shouldn’t, that I’m just buying into stupid societal expectations and irrelevant beauty standards, but that only makes me feel worse. I feel like a whale and a hypocrite!” He took a bite of his food and wished there was some chicken in the veggie stir fry.

Phil continued eating for a long moment, then swallowed and looked Dan in the face. “You know you’re still attractive, right?”

Dan blinked. Phil didn’t usually say things like that. Well, he’d been very reassuring and encouraging when Dan was an insecure teenager, but that had been years ago. Phil hadn’t commented on his appearance in a long time.

They hadn’t turned the tv on, since Phil had started the conversation before they had the chance, but Dan turned it on now, going to Netflix streaming and putting on an episode of “Death Note” they’d both seen before. He didn’t reply to what Phil had said … but he thought about it.

Dan had changed into track bottoms and the baggiest t-shirt he owned, ready to start winding down to try to get to bed at a decent hour, when Phil knocked on his door. The knock was tentative, as if Phil wasn’t sure he should be bothering Dan, which made him feel bad for how he’d been treating Phil lately. He opened the door and saw Phil wearing his pyjamas and glasses, obviously also ready for bed.

Phil looked at the ground, then up into Dan’s face, and said, “There’s something I … well, I haven’t told you … but I think maybe … now I should.” He was blushing. What did Phil have to blush about? What was going on?

Phil straightened up a bit out of his habitual slouch and said firmly, “I’m attracted to you.” He didn’t quite meet Dan’s eyes.

Dan blinked with surprise. “You’re … attracted to me?”

Phil shifted from one foot to the other and looked down at the carpet, then looked up again and lifted his chin as if steeling himself. “I’ve been attracted to you since … well … remember those Nakedbooth photos?”

“That was years ago!”

Phil blushed an even brighter pink across his high cheekbones. “It’s only gotten worse since then. I mean, I hardly knew you then, and … as I got to know you better … you only seemed even more … um … I mean…” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, then looked directly into Dan’s eyes and said plainly, “You’re gorgeous, Dan. Don’t you know how gorgeous you are?”

Dan thought about the moments he’d spent looking in the mirror before changing into his sleepwear. He thought about his soft, pudgy stomach, his thick thighs, and he grimaced. “You can’t mean that. Not the way I look now. If it was ever true, it’s not true now.”

Phil stepped closer, looking serious, and said firmly, “Yes now. I love how you look, Dan. I’ve been holding back from telling you, because I didn’t want to make things awkward between us, but now I think you need to know. I’m telling you the absolute truth. I think you’re beautiful. I don’t expect you to … I’m not expecting anything to happen. Between us, I mean. I know you don’t feel that way about me. But I’ve just seen how you’ve been lately, and it seemed so ironic, given how I feel, how I see you, how much I want to…” He gulped and looked away. “I just thought you should know.”

“How much you want to … what?” Dan asked, biting his lip and watching Phil’s face.

Phil had been looking at the floor in obvious embarrassment, but now he ran his eyes slowly up Dan’s body until he met his eyes. “How much I want to touch you,” he replied hesitantly. “How much I want to put my hands on you and feel your body.” He looked away again. “How much I want to kiss you.” He stepped away, further into the hallway, as if about to flee.

Dan stepped forward to meet him. “I’ve wanted that since I was 18,” Dan admitted with a smile, and then lifted Phil’s chin up to press their lips together gently. It wasn’t a long kiss, just an expression of intention.

Phil’s eyes were wide when Dan raised his head to look at him. “You really thought it was just you?” Dan asked, chuckling slightly. Phil nodded, seeming struck dumb. “I’ve been lusting after you since before we even met. Like you said, it only got worse when I got to know you and … it isn’t just lust, you know. It’s about you. I want you.”

Phil found his tongue. “I want you, too.”

Then Dan remembered what he’d looked like in the mirror just moments ago and shied away. “You can’t want me, looking like this, though. I mean, you haven’t seen me. I’m so ugly, Phil.” He felt like he was going to cry, which only made him feel more embarrassed. He couldn’t let Phil see him like this.

Phil frowned. “You could never be ugly. And your weight doesn’t affect how attractive you are at all. I’m just as attracted to you now as I was when you were a skinny teenager.”

Dan looked at the floor. “You don’t mean that.”

Phil stepped closer again and took Dan’s face in his hands, catching his gaze and looking into his eyes with such obvious love that it nearly took Dan’s breath away. “Let me show you how much I do mean it.”

It was the slowest lovemaking Dan had ever experienced. Phil stroked his hands over every inch of Dan’s body, not seeming to hesitate over any of the areas Dan found unattractive. He ran his hands reverently along Dan’s shoulders and chest, his belly and legs, even his hands and feet. The only time Phil hesitated was when his hands reached toward Dan’s neck. He looked a question at Dan, and Dan nodded slightly, giving Phil permission, and Phil stroked his fingers along the skin of Dan’s neck, not too lightly—not lightly enough to tickle—just lightly enough to sensitize the skin and make Dan shiver. Dan closed his eyes tightly and arched his head back, giving Phil better access. He felt Phil’s lips touch his throat, then just beneath his left ear, then felt Phil’s breath in his ear as he whispered, “You have the most beautiful neck. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to kiss it.” Then he followed his words with actions again, his tongue flicking out to taste the sweat beginning to gather on Dan’s skin, and Dan moaned.

This started Phil’s journey of kisses, his lips tracing all the skin he had already caressed with his hands. When he reached Dan’s belly, Dan was torn between self-consciousness about the fat there and excitement at Phil’s nearness to his cock. Phil pressed kisses to Dan’s belly, not seeming turned off by it at all, and Dan relaxed a bit, biting his lip again as Phil moved lower and lower.

When Phil took his cock into his warm mouth, Dan moaned again, louder this time, arching his back with the pleasure. Phil’s hands were stroking his hips and thighs as if he couldn’t get enough of Dan, couldn’t stop touching him, and with Phil’s hands on his skin and Phil’s mouth on his cock, Dan actually did feel beautiful. He felt desired and loved and lost himself in the attention Phil was lavishing on his body.

His eyes squeezed tightly shut, Dan groaned, “Oh god, yes. That’s so good!” and he was writhing uncontrollably, his hips thrusting upward toward Phil’s mouth though he tried to control himself, not wanting to choke Phil, not sure how experienced Phil even was with this particular act, though he did seem remarkably good at it. Dan’s hands came down to rest on Phil’s head, fingers twining into his short hair, and Phil moaned around Dan’s cock in response.

Dan opened his eyes and looked down to watch Phil’s head bobbing over him, Phil’s hips thrusting against the mattress with his own urgent need. Suddenly, Phil froze and stiffened, groaning, the vibrations reverberating around Dan’s cock, and Dan realized that Phil had come just from touching him and sucking him off. Any doubts he’d had about his own attractiveness vanished temporarily in that moment and he felt like a sex god, able to make someone as incredible as Phil come so easily, just from letting Phil touch him. He hadn’t even gotten to touch Phil much yet—Phil had come just from enjoying Dan’s own body.

A shiver passed through him head to toe, and Phil sucked at his cock again, causing Dan to shudder more strongly. “I’m close,” he warned Phil breathlessly. “God … so close!” Phil’s hands were wandering again, stroking every part of Dan’s body he could reach as his lips and tongue worshipped Dan’s cock. Panting, Dan tried to hold still, tried not to thrust, gripping the sheets tightly with his fingers as he didn’t want to pull Phil’s hair out by the roots in his desperation. “Oh Jesus,” he groaned, overwhelmed by sensation, and then his whole body arched as he began to come in Phil’s mouth. Eyes squeezed shut, toes curling, fingers clawing at the bed clothes, he came harder than he ever had in his life, and Phil drank him down without hesitation, continuing to suck until Dan collapsed limply onto the bed and whimpered with sensitivity.

Afterward, there wasn’t a single thought in his head. Dan just lay spent and languid, eyes closed, body completely relaxed as Phil climbed up the bed to wrap him in his arms. He felt himself turned onto his side with Phil pressing up against his back, spooning him, his arm wrapping around Dan’s waist, his hand resting warm on Dan’s bare belly. In his exhausted state, Dan could only feel the weakest whisper of worry that Phil would feel fat there, but even that hint of self-consciousness fled at the realization that Phil wouldn’t be holding him like that if he disliked Dan’s body. Awareness of how Phil saw him soaked into his very bones and he smiled weakly, feeling himself begin to slip into a sated sleep.

In the morning, Dan woke to find that sometime in the night they had shifted position and he had become the bigger spoon, now pressed skin-to-skin against Phil’s back. He thought back on the previous night and felt a surge of gratitude and love for Phil. Phil had taken such a big chance in telling Dan how he felt, a chance Dan himself had never had the guts to take.

He raised a hand and stroked it softly along Phil’s pale shoulder and arm, then down to his waist and hip. Some might think Phil was skinny, he realized, but Phil’s body seemed perfect to him, and he realized that the reverse might also be true.

Gently caressing Phil’s skin as the other man slept on, Dan thought a moment, considering, and realized that, while he still didn’t feel comfortable or happy with his body at its current weight, he did feel better. Knowing that Phil loved his body didn’t fix everything, but it did help. He resolved to go shopping again to buy some more fashionable shirts to flatter his current size and not always hide behind the baggy jumpers. This time, he’d take Phil shopping with him.

The other man began to stir, and Dan knew he was waking to the soft caresses. Kisses would follow, and more, and the knowledge filled Dan with a happiness he hadn’t felt in months.

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #phan smut #weight gain #body image #myphanfic

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