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frenchpuppycormier · 3 years

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HI ZOË!!! angst #16 for that sentence starter post if you're still up for some writing. i love getting my feelings hurt 🤡

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Then why are there bruises all over your face?"

—

Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body.

She waves at every animal she sees on her daily walks and patrols at night. She gives and gives to people without expecting anything in return. When someone is having a bad day or just really needs to talk, she listens, even criminals. Most of them aren't any different than the average person, they simply were dealt the wrong hand. She's extremely loyal and doesn't take anything personally. One time, Kara saved a fly that was trapped in a spider's web.

So yeah, Kara doesn't have a mean bone in her body. Which is why today is such an anomaly.

She's in the kitchen still dressed in her navy chinos and baby pink button up with palm trees from when she came home from work. Andrea made her rewrite an article thrice, Jeremy from accounting had broken the copier machine and politely asked for her help in fixing it, she stopped a bank robbery a few blocks down from CatCo when she realized the police wouldn't get there in time, and to top it all off she unwillingly skipped lunch after someone stole her sandwich from the staff fridge.

To say she was exhausted and starving was an understatement. Changing into her pajamas meant she had to walk all the way to the bedroom and Kara was too lazy, even for superspeed.

As she stirs her homemade tomato sauce she taps her phone screen and checks the time. 6:35 pm. Frowning, Kara doesn't see any missed messages or calls from Lena letting her know she's going to be late.

She shrugs to herself and thinks Lena must've gotten caught up in her lab and lost track of time. It happens more often than not, and Kara doesn't think it'll ever change, much to her chagrin. It's bad enough Lena forgets to eat lunch most days, but to continuously forget her phone and watch in her office? Kara knows her wife's a workaholic, but she wasn't aware until now, the fourth night this week, that it was getting this bad.

Kara strains the pasta and cuts the garlic bread while periodically stirring the sauce and checking her phone. She decides to finally turn on some music when the silence of the penthouse becomes too stifling and daunting.

She's in the middle of dancing to ABBA and plating the food when she hears a familiar heartbeat walking down the hall. Kara tries not to listen to it too often—she doesn't want Lena to feel like her privacy has been invaded—but sometimes she can't help it. Her wife's heartbeat is one of the most soothing sounds she's ever heard, and ever since she heard it for the first time, she's just been naturally drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

Kara smiles as she hears it get closer until Lena's opening the door and walking through. "Hey, babe! I'm in the kitchen!" she yells, her energetic voice reverberating throughout the house.

There's no verbal response like there usually is, which is the first warning sign. The second is when Lena walks by—she has to in order to go to their room—it's with quick steps and careful avoidance. But Kara's been able to read her like a book since they've known each other, and she knows something's amiss by the way Lena doesn't even greet her with a kiss. She always does.

"Lena?"

Her wife stops frozen in her tracks, head angled down, hair covering her face like a curtain. Lena's heart ticks up a beat, leaving Kara wildly concerned.

"Lena?" she steps around the island and stands in front of her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbles.

Kara tilts her head to make eye contact, but Lena moves her head so she can't. "Then why won't you let me look at you?"

"It's nothing, I-I'm fine."

"And why does that not convince me?" Kara sighs. Lena doesn't move a muscle and she keeps quiet. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She still shows no signs of moving. It's like she's decided her next career move is becoming one of those marble sculptures at the museum people love to gawk at.

"Lena...you're scaring me." She tentatively reaches out and grasps Lena's fingers, tremendously thankful when she doesn't pull away. If there's one thing her wife is bad at, it's letting people in. But she also knows when she's feeling stressed or overwhelmed that holding her hand relaxes and grounds her. "Please..."

Finally, after standing there in an awkward and probably painful way with the way Lena's neck is positioned, she slowly looks up. Kara audibly gasps when she sees her, and what she sees ignites a fire in her chest and a fury in her eyes. "If you're not hurt, then why are there bruises all over your face?"

"Kara.."

"Lena," she breathes and lifts her hands to gently cup her face, tears pooling in her eyes. Her breathing is significantly more ragged than before, and she mentally takes note of why that is. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," she repeats.

Kara frowns and backs away, crossing her arms. "Who did this to you?"

"Please, Kara. I don't want to make a big deal—"

"Who?" her voice is lower and angrier, sending chills down Lena's back. She grits her teeth, "Lena, tell me who did this to you now, so I can kill them."

"Kara, this isn't you," she reaches forward to calm her down, but Kara starts pacing.

"The hell it isn't!" Kara exclaims, fists clenching at her sides. "My wife was beaten for all I know, and she's acting like it's just another day at the office!" she gestures at Lena, exasperatedly. "How would you expect me to act?"

Lena flinches at her tone.

Kara notices, because she always notices when Lena's in distress, and she deflates. "Lena, you're the love of my life, my person, and when you're hurt I can't help how I act. I'm sorry if I seem like I'm overreacting or if I'm yelling, but it's you." She walks back into her space and places her hands over Lena's face, thumbs lightly grazing her cheekbones, careful not to bump her wounds. "It's you," she whispers.

Lena swallows thickly, and when she speaks her voice is soft and afraid. "It was an accident."

"Did someone do this to you?" Kara's jaw clenches as she lets go. She doesn't stray far though, crossing her arms in front of her chest to try and calm down.

"Kara, no," Lena sighs, tears pooling in her eyes. "I...I did it to myself."

"What?" Kara's arms drop to her sides. "What are you talking about?"

"I was in a board meeting," she clears her throat. "Um...I was presenting a new prototype for...for," Lena shakes her head and frowns tensely. She rubs her eyes with tight fists and with a shaky breath, she cries, "Kara, I—I can't remember!"

Kara steps forward and grasps her hands. "Hey, it's okay. Take your time." She rubs soothing circles over her knuckles with her thumbs.

Lena takes a deep breath and tries again. "I was in a board meeting, and I vaguely recall getting a terrible migraine. Everything after that is fuzzy," she sniffles and takes her hands back to wipe her eyes. "Jess said I fell and hit my head on the table on the way down."

Kara inhales shakily, "What?"

"I had a seizure, I guess," she says it with a slight lilt at the end like it's a question she doesn't want answered. "Uh, it lasted about five minutes until the paramedics arrived. They said I was lucky I wasn't doing something else, like driving. It could've been a lot worse."

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone call me?," Kara looks at her with pleading but sorrowful eyes.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"We promised each other, remember?" squeezes her hands. "For better or worse," she says with all the conviction she has. Kara kisses her knuckles and asks, "What did the doctors say?"

Lena sniffles and bows her head. "They ran all these tests on me, but couldn't find anything serious as to why I had a seizure. It could be any number of things, but they can't really do anything for me until I have another one," she looks up at her wife, lips wobbling.

"Kara, I'm scared," she whispers. "This is—" her words catch in her throat, and it's hard for her to breathe. "This is—my mom," she cries hysterically, covering her mouth with her hands, "This is how my mom died, she—she had a seizure while she was in the lake and she drowned. I can't—I can't believe this is—this is happening," she hiccups into another sob.

"Shhh," Kara envelops her in a hug and rubs soothing hands along her back. Lena bawls uncontrollably into her neck, hands gripped tightly to the back of Kara's shirt. "I'm so sorry, Lena," she kisses her on the head and murmurs into her hair, "We're gonna figure this out, I promise."

"What if I have what she had?" Lena questions, voice muffled and watery. "Kara...I don't wanna die," her mind begins to fill with thousands of different scenarios and she spirals into a panic, her whole body shaking, "I don't wanna die, Kara!"

"Honey, no," Kara hugs her tighter, as much as she can without harming her, then pulls back and kisses her on the forehead. She pointedly looks into her eyes when she says, "You're not dying. Okay? Not today, not anytime soon, alright?" Lena's face is red and splotchy. She tries to reign in control of her emotions, and she exhales a shaky breath while managing to give a slight nod. "Good. We'll figure out what's wrong with you, and if we can't do that here, then...we'll go to Argo. Their advances in science are way ahead of Earth's, and if that's not enough then I'll personally travel to other earths or other planets until I find a solution. You're not going anywhere if I have anything to say about it."

"Promise?"

Kara palms the underside of her jaw and rests their foreheads together, Lena's puffs of breath hitting her lips. "I promise," she presses their lips together in a chaste kiss and mumbles, "I love you." Kara kisses her again, "More than anything."

"I love you, too," Lena replies and buries her face in Kara's chest, her arms wrapped around her waist tight and what would be restricting if not for Kara’s invulnerable body. A calming minute passes for them in the aftermath of Lena's breakdown, when Lena quietly asks, "Is something burning?"

Lena feels her wife stiffen in her arms. "Shit!"

She pulls back and raises her eyebrows curiously, an amused glint in her eyes as she asks, "Did you just swear?"

Kara extracts herself from Lena's hold and stutters, "N-no, I said sh-sheet," she fumbles over to the stove and turns off the burner. Kara leans over the pot and frowns at the wreckage.

Lena chuckles with such fondness it's almost like their previous conversation has been forgotten. Kara beams at the sound, one of the reasons she fell in love with Lena in the first place; that girl can make laughter sound like music. Even her out-of-control snort laughs are adorable. At least to Kara's ears.

"There's no point in denying it, love, I heard you loud and clear," Lena smirks and joins her in the kitchen, poking her in the side. Kara squeals and feigns hurting by falling to the floor dramatically.

Lena playfully rolls her eyes and holds out her hand. "Baby, get up, the floor is a mess." Kara easily obeys and jumps to her feet with barely any help from Lena. "I married a weirdo," she shakes her head.

"Do you regret it?"

"Never," Lena states firmly. "You're my weirdo, forever."

"I like the sound of that," Kara blushes. Even after being married for five years, and knowing each other even longer, Lena still possesses the ability to fluster Kara on a daily basis.

"C'mon, let's order Chinese."

"You're speaking my language!" Kara kisses Lena on the nose and watches with pure affection as it scrunches. She grabs the takeout menu from the junk drawer before twining her fingers through Lena's and snuggling with her on the couch.

No matter her diagnosis, not matter the outcome, Lena will be more than okay with Kara by her side.

#half of this was written with an edible in my system #so i apologize if it doesn't make sense #lasdkjfldskjf #prompt ask #supercorp #supercorp fic #a lot of angst #but also PURE FLUFF

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ashbrea381writings · 3 years

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Fractals and Feathers:Pt1

For as long as Damian could remember, his grandfather had grumbled about his wings. The outer color was fitting for the League, a deep pine green with brown eye-markings near the base. The underside, however… Were a soft, baby pink that faded into a grey-white. His soulmate was obviously some civilian girl who had no problems in her life. “It is unbecoming. If you were to ever meet this person, you must end them on sight, salvage some form of dignity.” Ra’s lectured, sneering down at Damian. “If you fail to do this, you will lose the right to have wings at all.” With that threat, Ra’s swept out of the training room, leaving Damian to consider what he must do.

The next five years were spent with Damian training hard, the threat of having his wings removed hanging over his head. He kept an eye out for his soulmate anytime he was out on a mission either with his mother or when he was alone. He was determined to not get his wings ripped from him, no matter what fate wanted for him. This went on until the fateful day his mother took him away from all he knew, and left him with his father. His father’s wings were jet black with small points of pure white like stars on the underside and slate grey with blue and purple markings on the outside. Damian didn’t care about the colors of the other boys’ wings, and ignored the color of his own, choosing to keep them tucked close enough that only the grey edges of the bottoms showed at all. This is why it took him 2 weeks to notice the first cracks.

****

Marinette had always found the dichotomy of her wings interesting. The light, pale pink fading to grey on the back, and the dark pine green on the underside. She thought it was pretty, and just a bit mysterious. Somehow, on hot days the inside of her wings would be just a bit cooler than the rest of her, soothing the heat just enough to be comfortable. On cold days, they gave off the heat of the summer sun, warming her through the cold nights in her attic bedroom. When Marinette got her miraculous, she worried about her wings giving her away, but instead of her pink/grey and green wings, she found that the pink was replaced by bright red with black dots, and the green was changed to black with red dots. Meeting up with Chat, she found him with startling acid-green and black patterned wings. “I guess they want to protect our identities.” He joked, laughing and admiring the pattern. “Let’s not focus on that, Kitty.” She sighed and turned to face Stoneheart. “This is scary enough as is without thinking about if they didn’t hide our wing colors.” “True… Let’s go.” His face turned suddenly serious. “Do you have a plan?” Stoneheart took time to defeat, and Ladybug forgot the Akuma, so they had to clean it up later, but… They were pretty happy with the partners they were starting to become. They started to get to know each other, not revealing identities, but learning everything else about each other. Until one day, Chat brought up something interesting. “Hey, what happens to your wings if something happens to your soulmate?” “Why do you ask, Kitty?” Ladybug paused as she was unpacking the dinner she’d brought with the two of them. “Someone I know, they commented about the color of a person’s wings when we were out together. They said something about how that person had lost their soulmate. Nobody ever said anything to me about the colors changing if we lose them.” He stared at his gloved palms, seeming to not see anything at all. “Why? Did yours change color recently?” Ladybug asked, alarmed. “No! No, they’re the same as always, but… My… My mother disappeared a while ago, and I want to know what to look for and how to know what happened to her if I see my father’s wings change.” He sighed deeply, dropping his head into his hands. “I know I can’t say more because we can’t know who each other are, but I just… I’m so terrified to see them changed one day.” Ladybug wrapped an arm and wing around Chat, pulling him to lean on her shoulder. “Oh Cat. I can tell you, but try to stay positive, okay?” At his nod, she continued. “Your color on the underside of your wings will change if your soulmate dies. If they die of old age, they turn pure white, if they were sick, pure black, if they had an accident, they become silver, if they died a hero or sacrificed themselves for someone, they turn gold, and… If they were killed, they turn blood red.” Ladybug sighed at the end and hugged Chat tighter. “Does your father have any of those colors without any other color or pattern? It’s only plain colors with no other pattern for if the person has died.” Chat took a deep breath, shaking his head, “No, they still look like Mom’s wings as of last I saw them. We… Don’t talk much.” He hugged Ladybug tightly, wrapping his wings around under the one she had put over his shoulders. “Thanks, Bug, I’m glad I know now… At least I know she’s still alive out there. Somewhere.” They finished their dinner, flying a circuit around Paris to make sure all is well before they called it a night. The next few weeks passed, and they kept up with the Akuma Victims, making sure to check in on the victims after each fight. The people of Paris started noticing something odd as this continued though. The Akuma fights, even though all damage was reversed after each one, were affecting their wings and those of their soulmates.

***

Damian squinted at the small spider-webbing of cracks that glowed gold on the underside of his wings. It reminded him of kintsugi in appearance, subtle cracks that showed gold between the usual colors. “Father, what does this mean? I thought your wings only changed color if your soulmate died?” He finally asked after the number of cracks increased to stretch in geometric patterns across the pink and grey feathers. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen this before.” Bruce frowned, looking closely and waving Tim over to him. “Will you try to find anything you can about this phenomena?” Uncharacteristically serious, Tim nodded and went to work right away, his red and black wings draped over his chair comfortably. Damian turned away before he noticed the colors inside his wings, not wanting to know. A sharp beep alerted him to his phone, and he raised an eyebrow at the photo. “It would seem Kent is having a similar problem.” He showed Tim the photo Jon had sent of his own wings, the blonde and emerald green feathers also showing cracks, in a similar geometric pattern, but in a mix of gold and blood red. “I shall inform him that we are already looking into it.” “Yes, let Jon know that we’re working on it. If his case increases at any point, or anyone else around him experiences it, have him notify us.” Tim called over his shoulder as he continued to work on the program he was making to search with.

***

How long does it take for your wings to change color when your soulmate dies?

Marinette chewed her fingernail as she scrolled through the results, reading a few different reports comparing the reported time of death and when the soulmates’ wings changed color, mostly reported by hospitals in the case of illness or death. “Within two or three minutes. That explains a lot, actually. But then why are they not completely changed, just showing cracks?” “You have dealt with some pretty destructive Akuma recently.” Tikki recalled from her place on her Chosen’s shoulder. “Maybe those only kinda count because they would have been permanent if you hadn’t done the Cure?” “I suppose. Syren was pretty intense, and so many of the people who have the markings were probably people whose loved ones and even they themselves drowned.” Marinette sighed. “I wonder what Mamman and Papa think about all this?” “You could probably ask them… It isn’t so strange to wonder since you can see the cracks in their wings, and in other people’s at school.” Tikki suggested. “Good idea, what would I do without you?” Marinette giggled, patting Tikki’s head and opening the edge of her blazer so Tikki could listen in from there. The bakery was quiet at the moment, so Marinette had little trouble catching a few minutes of her parents’ time. “What do you think about them? I saw Alya and Nino with the markings at school and I’m not sure what they mean.” “Well, I’ve seen them before, but not this much on one person.” Her Papa said carefully, “Your Grandpa Roland had a heart attack not long before your Maman and I got together. Did you notice the black edging to some of Grandma Gina’s feathers?” “I thought she just had black markings.” Marinette answered softly. “On the back of her wings, yes, but his wings are just grey and white with the black tips.” Tom sighed, rubbing his face. “This many cracks… and the mix of colors. It’s very unusual. I can only assume it’s because of the akuma attacks. Which means that either your soulmate is very lucky, or they aren’t in Paris.”

#MGI Tope Tussle 2021 #daminette #marinette dupen chang #damian wayne #adrijon #adrien agreste #jon kent #dc #miraculous fandom #wing au #soulmate

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kathyprior4200 · 3 years

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Haven Hotel characters

Heaven’s Princess Coercia Egnam glanced down at her long list of meeting attendants and characters that she was about to address: (her handwritten notes included)

Princess Coerciona (2P Charlie) *Most important*

Phalla (2P Vaggie) *Hopeless romantic butterfly*

Devil Grit (2P Angel Dust) *Serious stiff spider*

Stalaro the Techno Angel (2P Alastor the Radio Demon) *Sob story sissy*

Klutzy (2P Niffty) *Lazy maid*

Core (2P Husk) *Hyper fool*

Cherubs Pub and Chub (2P Razzle and Dazzle) *My loyal guards*

Lucius (2P Lucifer) *Dad*

Lilian (2P Lilith) *Mom*

Sivart (2P Travis) *Some guy*

Sir Anguis (2P Sir Pentious) *Stuttering scaredy-snake toy maker*

Berri Blossom (2P Cherri Bomb) *Modest mundane dame*

Catie Carejoy (2P Katie Killjoy) *Soft bitch*

Ron Wrench (2P Tom Trench) *WW1 news guy*

Baker the puffer fish (2P Baxter the anglerfish) *Mad scientist fishy fish*

Jazzy (2P Mimzy) *Chubby singer lady*

Joygrand the Heaven-cat (2P Crymini the deviant hellhound) *Who the fuck are you?*

Raa the Koala angel (2P Roo the kangaroo trash Aussie demon) *Who the fuck are you?*

Iris (2P Rosie) *Day of the Dead Barbie*

Valentine (2P Valentino) *Blueberry pimp wimp*

Nil (2P Vox) *TV guy*

Ashen (2P Velvet) *Harley Doll angel*

Nestlings (2P Egg Bois) *Meh*

Nathan (2P Seviathan) *Old friend*

Elsa (2P Helsa) *Meh*

Beth (2P Bethasa) *Meh*

Fred (2P Fredrick) *Meh*

Holly (2p Molly) *Devil Grit’s spider sister*

Ragno (2P Arackniss) *Devil Grit’s spider brother*

Henry (2P Henroin) *Devil Grit’s father*

Alliv the blue tough tabby cat (2P Villa pink girly poodle) *Don’t even fucking know*

Thin Tenders (2P Fat Nuggets) *Potential snack*

Archangels (2P Archdemons)

Anti-Exorcists: White demon beings who convert angels into demons each year. Great source of entertainment.

E.L.F. (2P I.M.P.) not to be confused with C.H.E.R.U.B. the sheep love spreaders and revivers

D.E.V.I.L. (2P C.H.E.R.U.B.) murderers, hate-spreading black rams

Docile (2P Blitzo) *Some childish leader*

Tirred (2P Moxxie) *Serious one*

Timmid (2P Millie) *Wallflower*

Sunna (2P Loona) *High pussy*

Mia and Tia (2P Tilla and Barbie Wire) *Circus twins?*

Samael *Punishing BDSM angel*

Menadel (2P Stolas) *Swan prince, Quartet’s father*

Flora (2P Stella) *Quartet’s mother*

Quartet (2P Octavia) * Swan princess, bubbly teen*

Mayberry/Juneberry (2P Mrs. Mayberry) (Former Human)

Mary (2P Martha) (Former Human)

Ralph (2P Ralphie) (Former Human)

Ollie (2P Eddie) *Brat kid*

Bio Wizz (2P Robo Fizz) *Circus conspiracy?*

Kiva (2P Verosika Mayday) *Zealot*

Woo-Hoo Land Mascot (2P Loo-Loo Land Mascot) *What a creep*

(More to be added)

(2P Zoophobia characters)

More characters to be added

“Alright my subjects, tell me something,” Coceria began as she filed her sharp claws with a knife in a tall leather chair framed by black wrought iron. Her black spiky crown was on her head as usual. An angelic spear rested by the throne. Below her was a large crowd seated in comfortable chairs, many of them in shades of blue and green. “How the flying fuck am I supposed to remember all your names?! I bet half of you guys are insignificant background characters. And the majority of you haven’t even been featured in the show yet!”

“You mean the Hazbin Hotel show? About our counterparts?” asked Stalaro, holding up a white rose for Coercia. Soft classical music played from his blue microphone staff. The pansexual blue man was occasionally stealing glances at Devil Grit’s fluff.

“That’s irrelevant right now, you sad sack of stag shit!” Coercia yelled. Stalaro’s rose wilted in his hands and the music scratched to a stop. Tears were forming in his large blue eyes and his fluffy ear tuffs were drooping. “B-but I’m talking about my show: The Hazbin Ho…”

“Haven Hotel,” Phalla corrected.

“Right, Haven Hotel! And there’s also that spinoff show Helluva Boss.”

“Heavenly Boss,” Docile corrected her. The elf sat with his colleagues next to a flyer which read, “Efficient Lifesaving Fellows: We revive and keep mortals alive! Sign up today, 33% off.”

“Whatever,”Coercia brushed them aside. “Anyway, normally I wouldn’t care much about you guys, but now that I have formed the Haven Hotel, Phalla figured it should be a good time for us to introduce ourselves. Or more precisely, me to talk to you all.”

“A practical first start,” Devil Grit mentioned with a nod. He was a dark gray faced spider with small green dots below his eyes. His suit was black with green stripes, along with a green bow tie. “Just make sure that everyone stays at least six feet away from me. Social distancing is a safe standard, and necessary precaution.”

“I do love making new friends!” Phalla smiled, fluffing her long black hair with teal ends. A glowing green X was over her right eye and a teal bow was perched don her head. “Don’t you, Klutzy?”

The small blue cyclops angel narrowed her large eye. “Friends. Oh joy.”

“I must say, Coerce dear,” said Lucius. “I don’t really approve of your hotel and your idea. If the council finds out about your attempt to promote rule-breaking activities…”

“Banishment to Hell? Or to my room?” Coercia asked, hands on her hips. “Not the end of the world. And my name is Princess Coerciona. I prefer my full title.”

Core, the friendly white cat, rolled his eyes. He shuffled a few cards in his furry paws. “She’s no fun.”

“I heard that, cat!” she called, making him flinch back a bit.

“We raised you better than this,” Lilian added.

“Oh really?” The black haired princess stood up and turned toward her mother. “You’d rather I be some bubbly musical loving princess who wants to spread “joy and redemption” far across the land? Ha! No. A true ruler commands fear and respect in their subjects. I’m sure Hell’s king Lucifer would agree.”

Pub and Chub, the naked flying babies grinned in agreement while fine tuning black electric guitars in the background.

“We do not mention that name,” Lucius began but Coercia was ignoring them again.

“Lucifer may be a traitor to Him but at least he had guts. If His teachings weren’t so flawed, I’d still be promoting them wholeheartedly. As for my position…maybe another princess may someday take my place, but that’s not gonna happen if I manage to be princess of both realms. But now I’m here, in this lovely, shiny…fake excuse of a paradise with wackos like you. Still, someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

Phalla giggled while Core pat a sobbing Stalaro on his blue back. He wiped his face as his monocle glinted in the sunlight under his left eye.

“Your uncle Metatron wouldn’t approve of your attitude,” Lucius added.

“He wouldn’t even notice, considering he’s too engrossed in his record-keeping,” countered Coercia.

Nearby on another part of the stage, the ocean-like angels Elsa and Nathan whispered to each other.

“I don’t understand it,” Nathan said. “Here I was, promoting goodness for everyone, but Coercia laughed at my ideas and pushed me around. And we even went to Heaven High school prom together.”

“Lucius wanted our two families united, so we could have a higher standing,” Elsa added. “You dating the princess would’ve helped. But sadly she broke up with you and now here we are, envious.”

“Don’t remind me,” Nathan sighed. “It’s not like I was the one abusing her and mocking her ideas. At least she didn’t run off with a sinner girlfriend to further tarnish her family reputation. Ugh…restraining societal standards affect us even here.”

“Or maybe…she’s not much of a romantic person to begin with,” Elsa suggested.

“Not all aromantic and asexual people are cold-hearted,” Nathan said. “She’s just one bad apple.”

Coercia seethed at them, briefly letting out her black feathery wings and white spiked halo over her head. She spoke in a high-pitched angelic language before retreating back to her regular form.

“I hate it when she swears,” Elsa muttered.

Coercia turned to the crowd. “Alright, let’s begin.”

#2P 2PHazbinHotel HazbinHotel

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maandags · 4 years

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can i have something with draco malfoy and plants

the Forbidden Forest is quiet this time of night.

granted, the Forbidden Forest is quiet pretty much always, which is mainly due to the fact that it’s — surprisingly — forbidden for students to roam and wander. for good reason, too; the man-eating spiders and the morally questionable centaurs that, among others, make up its population aren’t known to be particularly friendly towards Hogwart’s students.

this, like all the warnings your friends have bombarded you with to try and keep you from entering the Forest, did not deter you in the slightest. in fact, it just made you want to explore its woods more. and so that’s why, at twelve whole years of age, you first set foot in the Forbidden Forest. now, you only went maybe 50 feet into the Forest that first time, giggling to yourself, adrenaline coursing through your veins, hand gripping your wand — looking over your shoulder every couple of minutes to make sure the school grounds weren’t out of sight — but it was enough to give you a taste, show you the smallest of flickers of the life brewing deep inside the forest, and it left you addicted straight away.

now, four years later, your little excursions to the Forest are never more than a few days apart. you know its paths, know its flora and fauna, know every square inch of it like the back of your hand. you’re not scared anymore of going.

nevertheless, the first few steps are always a thrill. it’s the tangible change in atmosphere, the soft bed of grass beneath your feet making way for a layer of dead leaves and branches and rocks where the tiniest of creatures wriggle about. it’s not fully dark yet, so you walk slower than you usually would, allowing yourself to look around and try and recognise as many plants and beasts as possible. (another reason why you didn’t really want to stop your visits to the forest: your Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures marks have never been higher.)

after an hour or so, as you trudge deeper into the forest, the surroundings start to grow more visibly magical in nature. trees look blurred when you try to look at them directly. big leaves shift unnaturally in completely still air. sparkly birds let out trills that sound a little too human. a swarm of small, yellow-and-blue songbirds fly over. one of them swoops down and lands briefly on your outstretched arm, and you pet it, resisting the urge to bury your fingers in the fluffy plumage, knowing full well that instead of flesh and bones these birds are made of some sort of bluish-black goop that a) smells absolutely rank, b) along with sticky and very quick-hardening seems to be vaguely acidic in nature and c) is a major bitch to wash out of clothing.

the bird flies at your side for a while, trilling in response to your soft whistles, the tip of its wing tickling your cheek every other minute. you spot a few pixies, who respond to your cheery wave with a string of hoots and screeches, a cluster of three-feet-tall mushrooms pulsing with a harsh pink light, and a slow-moving cloud of gold mist, which you give a wide berth, holding your breath for good measure.

then an arrow whizzes past your ear, and your hand flies up with a gasp. your fingers come away red with blood.

you spin on your heel, hand pressed up to the side of your head, and narrow your eyes at the centaur standing ten feet away from you. ”haha, Brin. very funny.”

he levels an unimpressed stare at you. ”you know you’re not supposed to be here, Y/N.”

”you’ve been telling me that for four years now.”

”and you’ve been ignoring it for four years.”

”indeed I have.” you spin around, yanking the arrow from the tree it landed in. ”can I keep this?”

Brin glares at you. you roll your eyes but hand the arrow back to him. ”you’re no fun. that arrow has my blood on it, I should be legally allowed to keep it.”

Brin shakes his head, turning around and starting to walk back the way he’d (supposedly) come. ”I can’t even begin to explain how flawed that logic is.”

you snicker, hurrying after him. Brin might be a little stuck up, but he’s also one of the few friends you have in the Forest, and even then you don’t see him that much. ”so. how’ve things been here?”

Brin briefly glances up at the sky, and you immediately regret asking, already steeling yourself for an incomprehensible monologue about stars and the positions of planets and whatnot. if you were better in at astronomy, you probably would have been able to understand some of it, but you’re shit at astronomy, so it’s mostly gibberish to you.

but all Brin says is, ”things are stirring.”

you raise a brow. ”things?”

”are stirring, yes.”

”stirring.”

”yes.”

”the things.”

he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. ”I really don’t know what more you want from me, Y/N.”

you look back up at him, unflinching. ”literally anything else. ‘things are stirring’ is all I got out of you, and that’s not much to go on.”

Brin sighs, short and sharp. ”I shouldn’t have mentioned anything. forget about it. it’s not something you should concern yourself with.”

you pretend to gag. ”you sound like Bane.”

Brin opens his mouth, about to object, but stops dead, narrowing his eyes and throwing out an arm to stop you. his tail swishes from side to side and he stands still, head cocked, listening intently.

for all your joking around, you immediately shut your mouth, the tension gripping Brin all of a sudden leaking into your body as well. it’s all fun and games until a centaur gets genuinely nervous, and in those situations it’s best to watch the aforementioned centaur and do what they do. your hand slowly creeps towards your robe’s breast pocket, where your wand is stored, but you don’t pull it out yet.

Brin’s eyes flick to you, irritation flashing in them. ”someone’s here.”

you pause, not sure if this is an inconvenience or a Bad Thing. ”um. elaborate, please?”

Brin takes a deep breath. ”one of yours.”

as if on cue, the silence is split by a blood-curdling scream.

your head snaps towards where the sound came from, but it’s too dark and too far away to see. ”shit,” you mutter under your breath, before summoning a globule of light to hover in front of you and taking off in the direction of the scream.

one of you. did that mean another human? a wizard? a Hogwarts student? but no, it couldn’t be — no Hogwarts student would be insane enough to venture this far into the Forbidden Forest this late into the night.

as you follow the strangled cries of panic and yelps of pain, you start to get a dim visual of what happened, and you curse again.

Devil’s Snare. the little shits are everywhere, their roots creeping along the forest floor and waiting for any living thing to stumble across them. you’ve since learned to look out for them, jump over them and walk just fast enough to avoid getting entangled, having had a few close calls yourself.

this Snare is a particularly nasty one. old, gauging by its height and the thickness of the vines sprouting from its core. strong. fucking hell. you stop just out of reach, sending a few more globules of light to surround it as to get a better view of what the exact fuck is going on.

the person is almost completely covered in vines at this point. struggling, crying out in fear and pain, gasping for breath. the vines, of course, only tangle further around his body. after a bit of heated internal debate, you begrudgingly admit that if you’re going to help this guy, you’ll need to get closer. so you do, careful not to get too close just yet. the light you’d sent up is not enough to make the Snare let go of its prey, but it is enough to (mostly) prevent any stray vines from grabbing hold of your ankles.

”stay still!” you shout, kicking a vine away and shooting three more lights to hover around the trapped guy.

he does not stay still. in fact, he doesn’t look like he heard you at all.

in the meantime, the smaller vines have taken more of an interest in you as you approach, and you growl, muttering a spell under your breath. a straight blade of white-hot flame sprouts from your wand, and as you calmly swing it in a wide arc, the light and the heat makes the plant recoil. as you pick your way through the branches and vines, getting ever closer to the guy, whose struggling is starting to get weaker, you cup your hands around your mouth, almost singing your eyebrows with your sword of fire in the process, and repeat, ”STAY FUCKING STILL!”

”what?”

”STAY STILL. I can’t help you unless you stay still!”

a faint groan sounds, and the figure stops struggling for a split second, but the vines tighten around him and out of reflex his arms shoot out, trying to fight the pressure off his chest.

”oh my god, I cannot believe I’m doing this,” you pant, closing the rest of the distance between you with a couple big leaps, landing smack in the middle of the biggest and nastiest vines, and that’s when you discover that the biggest and nastiest vines also have spikes, because the vine that immediately wraps around your calf digs its spikes into your flesh and you cry out.

a hand flails in front of your face. you grab the wrist to which it is attached. a plan forms in your mind — a crazy plan, an insane plan that just might be the death of both you and the unknown guy. but it’s the plan you have, and thus the plan you’re going with.

with your fiery blade you cut through a few of the vines that cross the guy’s chest — and then you put your wand away, extinguishing the fire and quickly stuffing your wand in your breast pocket.

”what are you doing?” he asks, and that’s when it clicks. the indignant tone he still manages to have even though he’s being crushed to death; the curl of his lip you can’t make out in the fray but can picture perfectly in your head.

you reel back, though it’s not as dramatic as you’d have liked it to be, because a thick vine has already snaked across your back (but that’s okay, that’s part of the plan, it’s okay, it’s fine) and you only manage to be pushed back into his chest with an oof.

you wrangle free, pulling back just enough to be able to make out his face. ”Malfoy?”

recognition flashes in his eyes — nothing more than two specks in the darkness — and he says quietly, ”Y/N.”

”fucking — ow —” spikes dig into the back of your thigh — ”the fuck are you doing here?”

”I think we have other things to worry about right now,” he says faintly, grunting as he’s pushed closer to you.

you scrunch up your nose but concede, promising yourself that you’ll question him later — if you even get out of this alive. ”if I die right now, Malfoy — for you — I will come back to life so I can murder you myself.”

he purses his lips, but nods, as if to say, ”that’s fair.” it is. it is fair. little shit.

you take a breath, steeling yourself, then dive down into the tangle of writhing vines at your feet, ignoring Malfoy’s shout of your name above you.

this is where it gets gross, and where you might lose a hand. one hand comes up to your chest and yanks out your wand, and the other searches beneath you — vines, vines, spikes (ow), more vines, a single leaf, and then, finally, the disgustingly soggy pulsing heart of the plant. you give a triumphant ”AHA!” then stick your wand into the core with a squelch that makes you gag, pull out your hand and shout the sword of fire spell. the flaming blade cuts through the heart. the vines shudder — convulse — and then go limp, and you shrug them off, staggering away, gagging, tripping twice before falling against a tree and retching, a hand pressed against your stomach, taking deep breaths, trying to blink the black spots away.

as soon as you feel like you can shout without throwing up, you march up to Malfoy, who looks about as good as you feel, tear out your wand and stick it under his chin and yell, ”WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”

you expect him to yell back. that’s how the two of you have always functioned: you shout something, he yells something back. he yells something, you shout back.

but he doesn’t. he just stands there, looking deflated and shaky and frankly on the verge of tears. ”thank you, Y/N.”

it catches you off-guard. you pretend it doesn’t. Malfoy never thanks anyone. ”no, fuck you. answer my goddamn question. what are you doing here?”

”I was following you, all right? I know you’ve been going into the Forest for ages, and I wanted to know what you got up to. that’s it.”

you scoff. ”right. you were just following me. that’s not creepy at all.”

”listen, Y/N. I don’t know what else you want from me.” he sounds tired and defeated and it makes you angry, because it’s so Not Malfoy that it’s unsettling, and the last thing you need right now is ‘unsettling’.

you throw your hands up into the air and start stomping away. ”I don’t know! I don’t fucking know. just — ugh!” you kick a dead tree stump, out of which comes charging a single fat gnome, waving a small stick and shouting an incomprehensible string of what are without a doubt profanities you’ve never even heard of.

”Y/N.”

”what?!”

”you’re bleeding.”

you stop walking, dropping your face in your hands and bursting into tears.

ten seconds. that’s all you allow yourself. ten seconds until you’ve got to get yourself together; ten seconds to scream and cry and sob your heart out. ten seconds, and then you take a deep, deep breath, wipe your cheeks and say, ”right,” and start walking again.

for a moment you don’t hear anything, and you think Malfoy is going to stay behind — but then he sighs and jogs a few steps to catch up to you. you walk in silence for a long time. the only words you say is when you quietly warn him not to step too close to a certain rock, or not to touch a certain flower.

when you absent-mindedly pull a leaf off a green plant and press it to your nose, inhaling deeply, he looks to you in alarm. you roll your eyes. ”it’s mint.” you inhale again, letting your eyes flit closed. ”it’s comforting.”

a little bit later, and there’s a faint rustling to your right. Malfoy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth; you rub a tired hand to your eyes. ”I was almost thinking you’d just left.”

Brin purses his lips, picking you up and wordlessly depositing you onto his back. you let your head drop against his back. ”thank you, Brin.”

”I would have helped you.”

”I had it under control.”

”I know.” he extends a hand towards Malfoy, who looks at it for a split second, then his gaze flits to you; you give a small nod, and a half second later he’s sat behind you, hands carefully resting on your hips.

”you…” your voice falters. ”you don’t have to do this, you know. Bane… and Magorian… surely they don’t approve of this.”

”they won’t know,” Brin says quietly. the forest around you slowly shifts back into a more peaceful atmosphere. the songbirds return. moonlight starts to filter through the foliage, and you take a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been needing.

a few hundred feet before the edge of the Forest, Brin stops. ”this is as far as I go.”

Malfoy slides off his back, then holds a hand for you to take, and you do, because you’re tired and wobbly and unsure whether your legs will hold your weight.

”thank you,” Malfoy says. you cast him a sideways glance. that’s the second time he’s thanked someone tonight, which is two times more than you thought he was capable of.

you nod curtly. Brin bows his head, then levels his gaze at you. ”I hope I don’t see you again, Y/N.”

you give him a lopsided grin. ”no promises.” and for the first time, something like a smile peeks through the centaur’s serious facade.

the last trek back onto school grounds is uneventful, bar the fact that the adrenaline has now completely worn off, and you start to feel sore all over, and you realise that your left leg — calf and thigh — is indeed bleeding. a lot. you have scratches on your arms and a nasty one on your cheek as well, and you’re covered in muck and grey slime. you probably look like something straight out of a Muggle zombie apocalypse film.

”you know the forest well,” Malfoy says as you step out of it.

you’re too tired to argue. ”yeah,” you reply simply. ”I love it.”

”you’ll be going back?” there’s a slightly incredulous hint to his voice, like he doesn’t quite believe it himself — you almost died. how could you possibly want to go back to such a place?

but the truth is that you do. you do want to go back. because the forest has been more of a home to you than Hogwarts has ever been. because you love its trees and its bushes and its weird magic plants and its pixies and centaurs and birds of enchantment. you love everything about it. even the near-death experiences. that’s what makes it fun.

”I will,” you say. ”I will be going back, Malfoy.” it sounds a little too much like a challenge. it sounds like you’re saying; try and stop me. I dare you.

he merely nods. he’s taken out his wand and cast a simple light spell, and the glowing tip of the wand sways as he walks. in the light, his eyes reflect gold. ”good.”

your eyebrows shoot up with the speed of a thousand Firebolts. ”excuse me?”

he grins; a boyish, sharp grin, that makes your stomach do a very irrelevant flip. ”I would have been disappointed if you didn’t.”

#you: can i have something with draco malfoy and -#me foaming at the mouth: FUCK RIGHT OFF #so uhhhhhhh aticus . fuck right off #requests #hp #draco malfoy x reader #THIS GOT SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO BE OOPS

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365days365movies · 3 years

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March 4, 2021: Spirited Away (2001) (Part One)

Having not seen this already is one of my great shames.

Yeah, I should’ve seen this by now, right? I mean, this is the only foreign language and 2D-animated film to win the Oscar for Best Animated Film, considered by most to be the greatest animated movie of all time, and it was the highest grossing film in Japanese box office history, until something else came along this year.

I should also watch Demon Slayer at some point, huh? Well, anyway, yeah, this movie has been on my list for years, but I’d never gotten around to it...until today! Now that I’ve watched Kiki’s, finally, I can get to the almost universally considered Miyazaki’s best. Will I like it as much, though? Well, we’ll see, huh?

And I probably should have some big preamble here, right? I mean, most of my other recaps start with a few paragraphs worth of content, dotted with pictures in order to break up the text monotony; that’s my typical formula. But, uh...I dunno. I got nothin’. Mostly because I don’t know anything about this movie going in.

So, yeah, fuckit. Let’s just get started here, I’m pumped! Been pumped for years. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Chihiro (Daveigh Chase) and her parents have just moved from their home to a new pace, and Chihiro’s not super happy about it. I get it, Chihiro, we moved a lot as a kid. On the way there, they get lost, and end up entering a forest with shrines at the entrance. Chihiro’s dad is a...reckless-as-FUCK driver.

They finally end up at a building with an open doorway. Chihiro’s a bit creeped out by the whole thing, especially as there are shrines all over the place that make her uncomfortable. Chihiro’s folks go through the archway and enter an old decrepit train station.

They exit through another door, and see a vast green field, dotted with shrines and broken down buildings. Chihiro’s father believes that it’s an abandoned theme park, which seems...wrong. Chihiro stays behind for a second and hears the building moaning. Chihiro’s parents continue to make their way through the park, as they smell food, and find themselves hungry.

But the park is still completely abandoned, with not one person in sight. And yet, somebody’s making food, and it’s fresh. So, they do what anybody in their position would do: they eat the SHIT out of it. Chihiro doesn’t, but her parents go ham on it. Seriously, they pig out on this shit. Frustrated, Chihiro walks away and continues to explore the park.

A giant ornamented pagoda-style bathhouse stands tall above the rest, seemingly new and running. This is where she encounters both the train and a small boy, around her age. He warns her to leave, and get back across the river near the entrance.

Chihiro runs away, and goes to get her parents, who are still pigging out.

Ah. Well. Chihiro doesn’t realize that these pigs are her parents, and runs away in fear. She stops by a full river, and sees a vast glittering city in the distance. Meanwhile, spirits gather in the formerly decrepit park. Chihiro, believing this to be a dream, tries to wake herself up. In her chanting, she ends up becoming somewhat invisible.

Meanwhile, a riverboat comes closer, carrying spirits whose bodies materialize as the touch the shore and enter the park. Chihiro runs away, scared and disappearing. Soon, the boy from before catches up to her. This is Haku (Jason Marsden), and he brings Chihiro food from this world, which she must eat or risk disappearing. Very mythological, I like it.

By this point, Chihiro has realized that the pigs were her parents, and asks Haku if she can see them. He says that he will eventually, but they must run away quickly, as a mysterious bird with the face of an old woman is hovering above, potentially looking for Chihiro.

Haku takes Chihiro to the bathhouse, and instructs her not to breathe, as the creatures around them will see her is she even slightly breathes. They cross the bridge, and Chihiro is almost spotted. Haku takes her into hiding, as the word of a human’s presence breaks out. Haku instructs her to make her way to the boiler room to find Kamaji, the Boiler Man, and insist on getting a job or risk being turned into an animal by the owner of the bathhouse, Yubaba.

Haku wishes her good luck by name, which she questions. He says that he’s known her since she was very small. My girlfriend begins laughing maniacally, which probably means nothing. Chihiro, still quite afraid, makes her way to the boiler room.

There, we meet Kamaji (David Ogden Stiers), a multi-armed man that runs the boiler for the bathhouse, and commands dozens of spider-like soot spirits to do his bidding. This dude is a cross between Eggman and Doctor Octopus, and I love him. The soot ball spirits, too, while we’re at it. I recognize these guys from My Neighbor Totoro! Or their relatives, anyway. They’re cute, no matter what.

Chihiro saves one from being crushed, and is told to “finish what she’s started”. She carries the rock, which is seemingly super-fucking-heavy, and throws it into the boiler. Once she does this, all of the soot balls begin dropping the rocks onto themselves to get Chihiro to do it for them. I love them.

Kamaji tries to stop Chihiro from working, which is when his granddaughter, Lin (Susan Egan), shows up with lunch for Kamaji and the soot balls, and sees Chihiro. She notes that his is big trouble, but Kamaji tells her to take Chihiro to the owner, Yubaba, to properly inquire for a job with his recommendation. Reluctantly, she takes her to the top floor of the bathhouse via elevator.

We see the various spirits in the bathhouse, which is a great time to note the fact that this movie looks fucking FANTASTIC, and the art direction already gets a 10/10 from me, without any argument. This would be even better if I were fully beefed-up on my knowledge of the various Japanese spirits.

On the way up, a Radish Spirit (Jack Angel) follows them to another elevator, and Chihiro ends up stuck with him in an elevator going up. He helps her get to the top floor, where Yubaba’s quarters are. And it’s here that we finally meet Yubaba (Suzanne Pleshette), a powerful spirit in her own right.

Yubaba is definitely not warmed to the presence of a human here, as humans have long abused the world that the spirits reside in. This includes her parents, who ate the food of the spirits like, well...pigs. She zips Chihiro’s mouth shut as she rants, but once she unzips it again, she repeatedly asks her for a job.

Yubaba isn’t pleased with this, and lemme say, she’s fucking TERRIFYING. As she goes after Chihiro more directly, the assault is interrupted by Yubaba’s baby waking up, and Yubaba hastily accepts her offer to work for her. Chihiro signs her name away, and Yubaba quite literally takes it, giving her the name “Sen” in exchange.

She summons Haku, who takes her away and pretends not to know her. He also tells her not to talk to him as they go down to find her a job. Nobody’s willing to work with a human, and Haku eventually assigns her to work as Lin’s assistant. Chihiro doesn’t feel very good, and that’s not helped by the fact that Haku was rather mean to her in the elevator.

The morning comes, and the spirits each retire to their domains, with Yubaba using her cloak to turn into a bird-like creature and fly away. Which I totally love, by the way. Chihiro, however, has not slept, and has in fact been crying and shaking with fear the entire night. Haku finds her like this, and tells her to meet him at the bridge, where he’ll take her to her parents.

With a new pink outfit in tow (and shoes protected by the soot spirits), she takes off to the bridge to meet Haku. But also lingering on the bridge is a mysterious spirit whom I already know as No-Face (Bob Bergen). He’s a pretty recognizable character from the film. When she crosses the bridge, No-Face disappears, and Haku is waiting on the other side.

Haku takes her to the pigsty, where her parents are. They no longer remember their identity as humans, and astonishingly, Chihiro refers to herself as “Sen,” the name that Yubaba gave her. Yeah, she doesn’t remember her own name, until Haku gives her back her old clothes to hide. In them is a goodbye card from one of her friends, with her name written in it. Yubaba controls people by taking their names, which is some old-school mythology shit, boy!

Chihiro thanks him, and he gives her food to help her regain her strength. This causes her to sob while stuffing rice into her face, which the girlfriend has referred to as a big mood. Chihiro goes back, and sees that Haku (not his real name, as Yubaba has taken it) is flying away, as a white dragon.

From there, she goes to work cleaning the bathhouse with Lin and the other workers in her department. In the process, she also lets No-Face into the building. He later repays the favor by helping her get a needed wash token from the human-hating foreman. Yubaba, meanwhile, senses that something is coming, slinking about in the rain. She refers to it as useless scum, and it is indeed a big pile of scum, and an intruder to the bathhouse.

The other attendants of the bathhouse seem to think that it’s a stink spirit, although Yubaba isn’t sure. She commands Chihiro to attend to it, and it is...gross as SHIT. It apparently smells EXTREMELY bad, and this entire sequence is...viscerally gross. Dude is DISGUSTING.

However, through all of that shit (literally), Chihiro manages not only to attend to the spirit, but also finds some kind of thorn in his side Yubaba then realizes that something is wrong, and gets everyone else to help. They tie a rope to the object, and they pull it out together, with Chihiro at the head.

They pull it out, only to reveal a MASSIVE pile of human garbage. Once it’s all out, the spirit reveals itself to be not a stink spirit, but a polluted River Spirit (Jim Ward), who thanks Chihiro for her assistance. He pays the place a HELL of a lot of money, and Yubaba congratulates Chihiro directly for her good work.

THAT is a good place to pause! See you in Round Two!

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deadlysansa · 4 years

Note

Your prompt is: it’s Christmas season and I’m pulling out my fake Christmas tree only to find a giant ass spider living in it, I scream, and you (my flat neighbor) come running to my rescue

Thank you for the prompt! It was a challenge writing Christmas going into a crazy hot weekend but an attempt was made lmfao. Nobody proofed this for me I’m just trying to distract myself from the world like everyone else atm! I hope you can enjoy

Read on AO3.

Christmas in Flip Flops

James loved Christmas. He was a straight up Christmas fiend.

That being said, he didn’t own many Christmas decorations. Every year, he packed his bags and drove to his parents’ house for the holidays with his childhood friend Marlene in tow. It was a lot nicer than his one bedroom flat in central London where she often crashed on the sofa.

“ Ow, shit, shit, shit, shit,” James groaned to himself as a pile of junk slid off the shelf and into his shoulder.

It was 6.30pm on a Saturday night two weeks before Christmas and he was standing fully in his small storage cupboard which had become a bit of a dumping ground. Unfortunately, it was also the home to his forgotten plastic Christmas tree, so here he was, pulling it from the wreckage.

James had been renting alone for two years now, ever since his two best mates had fallen madly in love and decided James was definitely cramping their romantic bliss. That didn’t stop Sirius and Remus from demanding he host a Christmas party at his place and advising he ‘spruce it up a little’. They claimed it was because James lived closest to their favourite pubs, but he had a sneaking suspicion they were dying to get a look at the neighbour that he had maybe, possibly mentioned a couple of times since she’d moved in six months and twelve days ago. He’d also told them about her boyfriend and the heated argument four months and twenty-three days ago which turned him into an ex-boyfriend. It didn’t matter. His mates had had enough of hearing about how Lily Evans in Flat 5A was making it quite clear she wasn’t ready to move on.

Thoughts of a certain intoxicating redhead who liked to hang out in her doorway sipping coffee and rolling her eyes at him made him distracted enough to be almost taken out by an old baseball bat making a break from the top shelf.

James’ hands finally landed upon the box in which the tree was kept and tugged it free of the dusty confines of the cupboard. Grinning at his success, James carried the tree to his small living area. He hoped it looked better than he remembered, because he only had a few strings of tinsel and the sprig of mistletoe he’d hung above his head which looked slightly pathetic. James pulled a face at the hanging berries. At Christmases gone by, he didn’t even need mistletoe for a cheeky snog but now he’d turned into someone who lingered in the lobby of his building if he knew Lily was due home.

His saving grace for this party might have to be the festive cocktails he’d made (and sampled) earlier. James’ version of a cocktail was actually a catastrophic mixing of any alcohol he had on the shelf, but fuck it, it was red.

“Hey, Mr Flitwick, how are you?”

He heard the familiar melodic voice in the hall thanks to the criminally thin walls and James stopped his assault on the cardboard box. He looked up at his closed front door, as though he could see Lily on the other side rooting through her bag for her keys. Every single day without fail, she took two minutes to find them. Every single day, James wondered how much crap she had in her bag and whether she was over her stupid ex yet.

He heard a door click close and with a sigh James turned back to the tree. Maybe he should have invited her tonight, but he’d stopped asking when she turned down his first ten invitations to the pub. Even he didn’t fancy being snubbed at Christmas.

Freeing the tree, James saw that it did look very sad and —

“AAGH! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” James shouted as a giant black house spider darted from its hiding place in his ugly fake Christmas tree. Leaping onto the couch, he was horrified to see the spider scuttle in the same direction.

“NOT TODAY, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” He was practically screaming at the eight legged nightmare, not aware of how loud he was being or at how he looked as a 25 year old man fleeing from a glorified bug.

James lobbed a cushion and shouted again, as though a spider could be yelled into submission. He didn’t notice the door bang open and Lily Evans flying into his flat with the determination of an FBI agent in pursuit, flip flop poised, until she was two feet away from him.

She skidded to a stop, breathing heavily. James was frozen, fear completely forgotten as he stared at Lily in his flat. She had never even crossed the doormat.

A frown was forming on her face, “What the hell , Potter?” She stared at the spider, now still on the carpet. “Are you screaming at this spider?”

James composed himself, hand instantly going to his hair, realising it would be tricky to jump down from the sofa with any shred of masculine dignity.

“Um, no?” James replied lamely.

Lily looked up at him, smirking now. “You were.” Laughing, she dropped the hand holding her flip flop. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Bertha in 4C that tough guy James Potter nearly cried over a spider.”

She was practically gleeful, and James had to work hard not to just pull her up for a kiss. The only thing that stopped him confessing how much he liked her every time he opened his mouth was his emotionally buffering confidence. James refused to let his embarrassment show, and zoned in on the shoe she held.

“All right, Evans, easy on the tears talk,” James protested. “Were you planning on defending my honour with a flip flop?”

Face turning pink, Lily hid it behind her back. “Oh, shut it.”

“Tell me, what are the statistics on flip flops and self defence?” He teased, spurred on by her blush.

Scowling, Lily picked up a nearby glass and trapped the spider where it was with a pointed slam. Oh, shit. His dream woman.

Stepping off the couch, James grinned down at her.

“Thanks for saving me.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“You’re the one in my flat, Evans.”

“Your door was unlocked! Which I’ve told you a million times is crazy, by the way.”

“I leave it unlocked in the hope you’ll come barging in armed with a flip flop,” He said with a mocking seriousness.

It was at that moment he realised he was standing very close to her, and she smelled so bloody nice and looked unnervingly good in a thick knitted jumper bearing Santa’s face and soft blue jeans.

Lily’s mouth twitched then, “Is that right?”

“You never come over when I’ve asked you, I figured I’d trick you into rescuing me,” He answered smoothly, not being able to conceal a smile at their awareness of his bullshit.

Lily’s emerald eyes glittered with mirth until she looked up and suddenly leapt away from James like she’d been electrocuted. He missed her instantly and she was a metre away. ‘In trouble’ was an understatement.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, tucking her hair behind both ears. “Mistletoe.” Lily pointed a delicate finger toward the ceiling. James followed her gaze and tried not to let his heart sink all the way down to his knees.

He raised his brows, “Sorry? It’s just mistletoe.”

“How’s Marlene?” Lily asked abruptly. Seemingly unable to meet his eye all of a sudden, she stared at the trapped spider that James was diligently ignoring.

Now the poster boy for bafflement, he shrugged, “She’s fine,” James said quickly. “Are you friends?”

Lily’s face was turning steadily pink and she laughed nervously, “Not really. Don’t worry, I’m not spying on you for your girlfriend or anything.”

The sentence was so funny to James that he burst out laughing. He didn’t know why Lily looked so scandalised, it was a good joke.

Lily’s embarrassment was morphing into annoyance and she folded her arms, “Why are you laughing?”

That’s when it hit him. His laughter died and he fixed her with an incredulous stare.

“Do you think Marlene is my girlfriend? Marlene?”

Lily’s eyes flickered, “It’s a very logical assumption to make. She always sleeps here! She goes to your parents’ house with you!” .

James guffawed, his mind racing to wrap around this new predicament. “Yeah, we grew up together! Mar’s parents live next door to mine. She sleeps on the couch after a night out so she doesn’t have to drive home.”

Lily opened her mouth to retort, but the truth struck her and she closed it.

“Oh,” She bit her lip and James took a measured breath. She was relieved. He couldn’t believe he was about to ask what he did until he heard the words.

“Wait, does my relationship status… matter to you?”

Lily covered her face with both hands. “Shut up, 5B,” she said through her fingers, voice muffled.

James grinned, gently prizing her hands apart. Her skin was warm and soft as he slowly slid his fingers between hers, giving her the option to pull free.

“I asked you out multiple times. You should have said yes,” James said, not caring that his voice sounded practically yearning.

Lily watched their interlocked fingers, “I thought you were in a relationship and felt sorry for me for being freshly single in a new area.”

James huffed a laugh, “I definitely did not feel bad. Evans, I’m ashamed to say I was bloody ecstatic when you got dumped.”

Emerald eyes finally met his in indignation, “Hey! I dumped him .” Lily chewed her tongue. “It was over as soon as I realised I fancied my neighbour more than my boyfriend.”

James’ grin was now positively shit-eating but he didn’t care. Lily Evans fancied him - apparently, she had for a while. His gorgeous, mad, funny neighbour who yelled when his shoelaces were undone in the post room and ran to defend him when he screamed like a child at a spider.

James stepped into her space so that the tip of their shoes were aligned. Lily inhaled swiftly, her mouth dropping open before she bit the inside of her cheek.

“James, why do you think I stand in front of my door so long everyday when I get home?”

James smirked, so close now that their shallow breaths mingled, “You can never find your keys in that giant bag.”

“I keep my keys in my pocket,” Lily said simply, gaze flickering to his lips in a way that made his blood hum. “I just mess around in case I catch you coming in or out. All so I could share thirty seconds with you.”

“Well, next time you want to mess around,” James said in low voice, tightening their linked fingers to pull her tantalisingly closer. “You can come straight to me.”

She smiled softly, her eyelids almost closed in a dreamlike state, “Only if you lock that bloody front door.”

Unable to resist any longer, James bent down to catch Lily’s lips with his own and she responded in kind, surging upwards into him with an urgency he could only have dreamed of. Unlocking their hands, she plunged hers into his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way that made him groan, and he wrapped both strong arms around her waist so she was lifted off the ground.

This was bliss. Happy fucking Christmas.

Suddenly, Lily pulled back just a fraction.

“James,” She whispered, her breath skating over his mouth. “I just kicked over the spider glass.”

Right, the spider that had wingmanned him here . He was still absolutely terrified of the thing.

James tightened his grip around Lily and pressed his forehead to hers, “Get the flip flop.”

#jily #jily fanfiction #james potter #lily evans #prompt #challenge #ao3 #hp fic #marauders

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hanmajoerin · 4 years

Text

Looking for some soft, post-canon InuKag? Look no further than chapter two of Lost Time which is promptly titled “With Me.”

The story is posted on Fanfiction.net and AO3 and is also available for your viewing pleasure below!

The fire popped three times, another confirmation about InuYasha’s claim.

Three years.

Kagome’s mind chewed on the idea like taffy. Even though InuYasha sat mere inches from her, she still carried the weight of his absence. The idea that they spent another two years apart sent Kagome’s hand flying to his. She gave it a sincere squeeze, relieved to find that she could touch him. That he was still real. “InuYasha... I’m so sorry.”

There was so much she wanted to tell him, but Kagome hesitated, wondering if she’d only be repeating herself. They hadn’t been able to talk about their first reunion and she didn’t know if she had been back for a few days, weeks, or months. Regardless, Kagome wanted to share with him what was in her heart right now; the difficulties she experienced with her first real heartbreak. Kagome bit her lip slightly. Would he want to relive this? Did she already tell him how she probably sealed the well? Could he forgive her? Did he know that he was on her mind every day? Did he know—did he know how much she needed him?

“Don’t apologize,” InuYasha was quick to say, nearly slamming his free hand onto the wooden floor beneath them. Kagome gasped slightly. He shook his head, silver hair whipping from side to side. “I could have jumped out of the well back then but I didn’t. I felt it pulling me back and I let it because I thought knowing you were safe was enough.”

InuYasha knew instantly what the high schooler meant. However many moments passed between them since then hadn’t dulled the determination in his amber eyes or the resolute conviction in his speech. She could feel a small smile forming. It didn’t take away the pain in full but it meant something. She wanted more. Emboldened, she asked, “Was it enough?”

A beat passed between them and Kagome took a sip of the medicinal tea InuYasha brewed to fill it, trying her best to keep focus as a vague static played like a song in her mind.

InuYasha sharply turned his eyes away from her, a grim expression haunting his features. “No.”

Kagome placed the clay cup onto the floor with more care than it deserved. The way she breathed, the way the glazed surface of her teacup shimmered from the fire’s light, the crude weight of her night robes against her chest, the way she was wearing them instead of her pajamas, InuYasha answering her questions... it all created an ethereal atmosphere that lingered like the warmth on her palms. Maybe she should be angry for losing her memories or scared, but those emotions felt impossible with InuYasha at her side. They would find a way to get her lost time back. For now, there was this reunion. It was one that she could share with the boy she never knew could become irreplaceable. It was sacred.

Kagome leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Given their positions, a healthy heap of space still rested between their lower halves but Kagome couldn’t have felt closer to the half-demon. His fire-rat robe felt like silk under her skin. It was familiar. Her cheek all but clicked into place against his shoulder. “I really missed you,” she murmured.

InuYasha slid closer, returning the embrace and resting his cheek on top of her head. He sounded tired as he took in a deep breath. “There wasn’t a day I stopped thinking about you.”

“Me, too.”

A comfortable silence blanketed the couple. Kagome wondered in passing if she should wait for InuYasha to speak first or if he was captivated by the same film that drifted through her mind. As he continued holding her, she watched the part when he pulled her to his chest and apologized for taking so long to save her. When he pushed her back slightly, she saw the time when his wide, red eyes receded to white and amber upon an entirely different reunion. When he squeezed her shoulders in support, she closed her eyes and felt her backpack grazing against her thighs when he carried her home from school. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the moment she whispered her loyalty to him and the time he swore his life on protecting her. Theirs was a movie she never thought would end. It was beyond a relief–beyond her wildest dreams–to be creating the much anticipated sequel.

“Does your head feel better?” InuYasha asked eagerly, thumbs brushing against the light blue fabric of her night robe. They were warm but still felt as fragile as glass which helped Kagome stop herself from laughing at the abrupt topic change. I guess he’s had plenty of time to reminisce.

“It still hurts but I probably have a concussion so it’s to be expected.”

“Maybe you should rest more,” InuYasha suggested, moving the tea away from her. Kagome reached out to pull it closer.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to sleep after you get a concussion,” the high schooler countered, slipping in another sip as if to prove its continued usefulness.

InuYasha glowered at her, arms crossing over his chest. Kagome’s eyes lingered, briefly wondering what it would be like to be caught between them. Encircled by sleeves that could blanket her entirely, grounded to reality as he held her against his chest, moved to glimmering tears at being precisely where she belonged.

“What does it matter? You’ve already been out since this afternoon.”

Kagome blinked a few times, her visions faltering. “This afternoon!? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“It’s not like we didn’t try. You were out cold!”

Kagome stared at the purple kimono which was used as a makeshift blanket. It barely covered her shins, but the thought of having it pulled back into place along her shoulders had her clinging to her cup like it had the chance to prevent her companion from moving her a single centimeter. “I don’t know if I’m ready to go to sleep yet,” she admitted, a blush dusting her cheeks. Falling asleep and waking up to find her pink comforter instead of a deep and unmistakable red made the idea utterly unappealing. Although announcing the idea seemed embarrassing considering she was also unmistakably back in the Feudal Era.

“Uh...” InuYasha stuttered, picking up on her blush. Kagome wasn’t sure why he hesitated, but all thoughts stopped as soon as he brushed his hand against her cheek. She inhaled the mingling smells of autumn leaves and safety. InuYasha cleared his throat, anchoring Kagome to the moment. “We should wait until you feel better to do...uh... that.”

The insinuation sent Kagome’s hands flying to her cheeks in abstract horror. She ended up slapping one of InuYasha’s hands in the process but, once it was in her grasp, she refused to let it go. “InuYasha, get your mind out of the gutter!” He laughed. “It’s not funny, InuYasha!”

The chuckles hardly lasted but his crooked smirk lingered and it wasn’t long before he spread it her way. “You said the same thing when you first got back,” he confessed. “Guess I’m still a little ahead of myself.”

A single fang gleamed and Kagome took a deep breath. Her blush was back and after a few horrendous seconds, she tactfully decided to ask another extremely unrelated question. “That reminds me, how long have I been back?”

“It’s been... about seven moons.”

“Oh,” was all Kagome could manage to say. She wanted to ask InuYasha about their relationship. What they had done and who they had become to each other, but her flustered heart fluttered against her ribs. She cleared her throat. She wasn’t like InuYasha when it came to “getting ahead of herself.” They were together once and they could be together again but she needed to process it all. “Hey, InuYasha,” she started to say, her fingers brushing against his as if she hoped it would give her the courage to continue. InuYasha quirked a brow in response.

Kagome felt a whole new blush slam across her cheeks. She was beginning to think her body rivaled the temperature of the untended fire. “Do you remember our first new moon together?”

“Hard to forget that shit show,” InuYasha grumbled.

Kagome coughed slightly; it was a physical restraint to keep from taking full offense of how he didn’t recognize that she was referring to their sleeping arrangements, not the spider heads. “After Myoga sucked the poison from your blood... you asked if you could lie in my lap.”

“I did, didn’t I?” InuYasha asked, scratching at the back of his head with his free hand. It was almost as if he was scrambling to remember and Kagome’s smile instantly faltered. “D-don’t look at me like that! I try to forget all my nights spent as a human!”

Kagome dropped his hand and let out an audible groan. “How can you say that? You told me you liked my scent! It was...” Kagome cut herself off and rubbed her forehead. It just didn’t seem worthwhile to start an argument with InuYasha when all she wanted was to touch him and relish in their joint existence. “InuYasha?”

“What is it now?” He grunted, clearly losing his patience.

Then, she plagiarized his words from that night. “Let me use your lap.”

“Okay,” InuYasha said and it shocked Kagome that he hadn’t sputtered or blushed. He was comfortable with being intimate although Kagome should have recognized that earlier. It didn’t take InuYasha long to be sitting properly behind her head and with great care, Kagome got herself situated. She closed her eyes and took in the scent of the forest in fall and a love that saved her over and over and over.

Even though her small fear lingered in the black behind her eyes, she was tempted to fall asleep. A tender silence filled the hut and Kagome felt a warmth building in her stomach despite her growing headache.

“Kagome.” She hummed in response, too comfortable to offer any actual words. InuYasha continued, “When you came back, you said your exams were finished and you didn’t have any regrets. That’s gone now. I...” he paused as if he couldn’t quite string together the right words. Kagome turned her head just in time to see a light flush spreading across his features and it took her a minute to recall how actions and words came different to the half-demon. “I—I just hope that you’re okay with being here. Okay with being with me...”

“InuYasha, I’m exactly where I want to be,” she reassured him, the statement so strong that Kagome couldn’t stop crocodile tears from staining her cheeks. No matter the consequences–no matter the sacrifices–the high schooler couldn’t forget their journey. Coming home was a choice she didn’t need memories to stand by.

Relief overtook every part of InuYasha as he gawked down at her. Kagome never loved him more. They sat still, amber and brown eyes talking in ways spoken language couldn’t hope to say. “Kagome, you...” InuYasha swallowed, this time bending his neck downwards. Kagome’s heartbeat echoed through her ear drums. After spending seven months together, this probably wasn’t their first kiss, but it was her first kiss. Cheeks stained red, Kagome squeezed her eyes closed and was rewarded with chapped lips brushing against hers. His lips were true to his character: rough around the edges even when he was trying to be gentle. His kiss was everything Kagome wanted and she lifted her hand to caress his cheek.

She blinked at the loss of his touch. His attention seemed to be taking away the pain in her head far better than Kaede’s tea. “We’ll visit Kaede in the morning but uh...” a small smirk touched at his features, eyes softening. “Welcome home.”

A dazzling smile and a few more tears crowded her face. Silver hair was like a curtain keeping her attention on InuYasha alone. “I’m home.”

II Chapter 1 II

#hanmajo writes #about InuYasha!#and his wife!#InuYasha #Kagome #InuKag #InuYasha fanfiction #All I really want is the most tender moments between these two idiots #Also I do have a head cannon that Kagome said something along the lines of wanting to spend the night with InuYasha and not Kaede #so naturally #InuYasha is like okay let's get down to business #but in reality #Kagome only wanted to stare at the stars while cuddling with the great love of her life #LOLOL

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wizardess-legends · 4 years

Text

Power of the Day Class Girls

Summary: Of course the day wouldn’t be complete at the famous academy without there being some chaos as magical creatures attack during lunch time. (Here’s an introductory fic for the rest of my ocs plus one I may have forgotten to mention existed ^^’)

A multitude of spells were flying as the group of prefects were trying to fend off a quite large group of creatures. “Werewolves I can understand showing up out of the blue,” Caesar started to shout while shooting out another fire spell. “But why the hell are there giant spiders here!? No one told me spiders could get this big,” Zeus cut in shouting. Lucious was using dark magic as he let out an annoyed huff while listening to them complaining. “Oh yeah the werewolves and giant spiders are the biggest concern! It’s not like there’s a WHOLE minotaur among them,” Lucious yelled at the two.

Lizzy was running as the minotaur was chasing behind her as she shouted, “The glitter bombs didn’t work, it only made him more pissed!” “Run over to us, we’re going to try and attack it at once,” Alfonse called out to Lizzy while Elias, Yukiya, and Luca stood together. Quick to change course making her way over to them in which once she reached them she slid under Alfonse's legs. Once with a clear shot the boys unleashed four attacks at the same time sending the minotaur backwards with a loud thud sound.

“Ha take that,” Luca shouted excitedly with a large grin.

“Luca it’s getting back up,”

“Ah shit, this bites,” he said, shoulders dropping as the small group watched as the bull-like creature was getting up again.

Without warning a large tide of water came out of nowhere and swept a couple of werewolves and spiders away. Then a couple of other spells hit a couple more of the attacking creatures. “What are you all doing out here?! You three should be inside the academy it isn’t safe,” Elias shouted in a stern manner as there were three female day class students. “That’s what I-I tried to tell Dite but she wouldn’t listen,” A girl who had short muted purple hair with a long low ponytail in the back and light coral colored eyes called back as a black wolf stood by her. “Now, now Lias don’t worry your pretty little head off! Besides how are we going to show off to the night class what the day class is made of, especially us ladies,” the girl next to her spoke confidently; medium wavy hair that was silver but more towards the bottom was pink and brownish pink eyes. “If anything we’ll buy you guys time to make sure everyone gets inside safely,” the third student was holding a long golden trident with medium straight teal hair with a couple of strands of hair in front that were two different colors and slate blue eyes.

~~~~~

Seeing that the prefects took our offer they started to fend off the werewolves and spiders that were going after the other students. Letting out a small sigh I twirled my trident before holding it properly in my hand pointing it at the creatures before me. “Aquarum voragine,” I shouted as the trident formed water as in the distance water collected and shot up into the air moving like a tornado which some of the werewolves got caught inside. Moving my trident the vortex of water would follow the movement hitting more. “This’ll be no problem at this rate,” I muttered to myself but then when I heard the sudden close sound of growling I looked to my left to see a werewolf lunging towards me, holding the trident with both hands I blocked its claws and pushed it back. “Acies aqua,” I quickly chanted another spell, blades of water slicing the creature as it let out a whimpering sound.

~~~~~

My whole body was trembling, I still can’t believe I let Aphrodite talk me into this crazy plan! But… She wasn’t wrong; aside from wanting to help keep the others safe, some of the prefects are our friends and even they need to be protected at times too! “These spiders really aren’t giving any room for anyone to try and attack,” I said to myself as I continued to dodge out of the way of webs the spiders were spitting my way. Catching my breath I closed my eyes for a moment and just breathed to calm myself down; now isn’t the time to be acting like a coward Genova! I brought my hands closer to my face kissing the rings on both my index fingers and then taking a fighting stance as my iron claws appeared on my hands. “Now you’re looking more like a wolf,” I glanced over to see my familiar before glancing back to the spiders. I’ll be putting myself at a greater risk of getting hurt, but it’ll be harder for them to shoot their webs if we’re fighting close. “Right, let’s go Bane,” I shouted running head on, continuing to dodge the webs or swing my hand down as it would create blades of wind to cut through them. When close enough was when I started to lash out and send out attacks of claws of wind. I’m sorry spiders, but I have people I need to protect!

~~~~~

Dodging between the spiders webs and the lunge attacks from the werewolves were becoming super tiring. “Are you really sure this was such a great idea,” I heard my familiar ask from my shoulder as I was too busy keeping an eye out for the creatures and sent out countless spells to keep them back. “Absolutely my dear Sheba,” I said with a small grin; I may not be as skilled in fighting like Genova or Vivievianna, but I was still confident in my magic! “But I will admit the sheer numbers of the creatures are wearing me out a bit and if I break a nail because of these gross beasts I’ll be mad,” I said while castes another spell making spikes of earth to grow from the ground. “But not only that I stay true to what I said earlier, as not only for the night class to see, but for the rest of the day class to see what we’re capable of,” I said passionately as I really do hate not being taken seriously. While fighting I couldn’t help but continue to feel concerned about the minotaur, it’s been a while since I last saw it and if we’re not careful it could easily take us out. A chill violently went down my spine when I heard the loud and heavy running footsteps, looking around I needed to figure out where it was coming from. Turning to look back over to where Genova was my eyes grew in fear as it was going to attack her!

~~~~~

Flying on the back of the wyvern I was approaching the academy as scanning down below it wasn’t hard to spot the battle going on below. “Kaiser, Kaiser do you copy,” I heard my communicator go off hearing Klaus’ voice, how annoying. Letting out a small groan I rolled my eyes before replying “Yes your uptightness I copy.” “I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear that, what’s your position,” he asked as I gritted my teeth when I had eyes on the Minotaur as it attacked a student. “I’m already at the academy, I’ll have to talk to you later,” I said, cutting communications giving the wyvern directions to fly down. “Milady did that student just-” I heard Fang say from my neck as much to my bewilderment as the girl who got hit by the creature to ash. “Turn to ash… Yeah,” I confirmed what he saw as there was no way a minotaur could have done that, but I wasn’t going to worry about that.

“Alright Fang you know the drill,” I said, removing Fang from my neck and onto the wyvern’s head. “You and our little friend here take out the rest of the werewolves and spiders,” I gave them their orders as I swung one leg over before jumping off free falling above the magical creature. Holding my right arm and my tattoo began to glow as I loudly chanted, “Poroboros Nox!” The purplish black balls of magic went falling down around the minotaur before blowing up. Smirking at the sound of the creature crying out I felt myself land on the creature, pushing off of it and landing on the ground safely. “Become thy blade, ferrum tenebris,” I chanted the shortened spell as both arms the same purplish black particles formed until they took shape into long blades. Hearing the loud screeching sound of Fang I glanced over and grinned seeing him bigger easily disposing of the lingering creatures. The loud roar that came from the creature before me, I turned my attention back to him. I watched as he scuffed his hooves against the dirt.

~~~~~

Falling down with a hard thud the Minotaur was defeated as the long dark haired woman dusted her hands off. The prefects rushed back over as the long battle was finally over as well as the girls who helped. “Though your uniform is slightly different, you wouldn’t happen to be with the Ministry would you,” Alfonse asked curiously with his hand to his chin. Picking up her once again small familiar, Kaiser picked him up and placed him back around her neck. “Yes, I’m Kaiser; I’m the Ministry’s black magic specialist,” she answered in a cold manner. Lizzy and the other prefects took turns introducing themselves before it was the students turns.

“I’m Vivievianna Ariella,” the girl with the trident spoke first in a very neutral tone. The girl who was smiling and had a ferret-like creature on her shoulder chimed in next “I’m Aphrodite Dolloway and this is my familiar Sheba!” “Hey... What happened to the purple haired girl,” Hiro asked as he saw the wolf that was with the girl, but it was when from behind Aphrodite a younger version of the muted purple haired girl came out wearing a simple white silk dress. “I-I’m right here… I’m uh Genova Merkulova,” she shyly introduced herself before now hugging the black wolf. “As this is my familiar Bane,” she added shortly after.

The moment was shortly interrupted by an angry voice shouting, “I’d ask you if you were crazy, but it’d be pointless because we both already know the answer is yes!” Rolling her sapphire blue eyes, Kaiser said, “Great he’s here. That’s my que to leave.” Many were confused as there was Klaus approaching the group. Kaiser started to climb up on the wyvern as she gave the creature a pat on the head. “Where do you think you’re going?! Also where did that wyvern come from,” Klaus shouted as he obviously looked irritated. “Ya know back to headquarters to put in the report of what happened. As it isn’t any of your business, but I have my resources,” Kaiser replied smugly before the magical creature took off flying. Pinching the bridge of his nose he decided to leave it as he’d give her a piece of his mind later. Decided to all go inside the prefects filled Klaus in of the events that had taken place.

#wizardess heart #wizardess heart fanfic #lucious duller #zeus brundle #wh ocs #lizzy luna #aphrodite dolloway #vivievianna ariella #elias goldstein #alfonse goldstein #genova merkulova #luca orlem #caesar raphael #kaiser sinclair #yukiya reizen #Bane the black wolf

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oneletteredwondered · 5 years

Text

Chairs

In the mind palace living room, each side has a chair that is catered to them and their needs. Though in some ways, chair is a loose term.

Warnings: uh, swearing probably, growing up nonsense, sympathetic deceit scattered throughout, who needs timelines

Pairings: none but hey if you see it go for it

–

When a side first comes to be in the mindscape, after their body formation and center in Thomas’s mind is created, they are tasked with imagining their own room. It’s one of the first things they do, in general and for themselves. It’s the first glimpse into their own personality within the trait they harbor. It helps establish themselves as a part of Thomas.

Once they are an established part of him, heard, seen, and accepted, they get a chair. This chair manifests itself in front of a screen in the main part of the mindpalace. The screen is a link to the outside world and what Thomas sees, but also acts as a thing to watch movies on and even the occasional memory scan. It’s a sign that Thomas values their input.

Patton is the first to get a chair. He is the first side and the first one Thomas knows. He is Feelings back then in Thomas’s youth, and his chair is a beanbag, bright blue and never goes flat. He watches Thomas’s life through the screen with love in his soul and happiness on his face.

As he grows, his sense of right and wrong grows with him. There is one other side with him now and even though Curiosity doesn’t share his human name just yet, Patton feels wrong having a chair when they don’t. So his chair morphs to his needs and becomes bigger. A bigger comfier bean bag chair.

“Why?” Curiosity asks him when Patton pulls the other trait to sit next to him. They fall into the bean bag with an ‘oof’. Patton giggles as they end up snuggling slightly.

“Because! Me having a spot and you not having a spot doesn’t feel right! So now we both have a spot!” Patton tells them. Curiosity gets flustered, a small tinge of pink on their ears slowly getting red.

“Oh,” They say, and sit next to Patton with their arms touching as days go by. It’s not until Thomas starts school does Curiosity get his own ‘chair’. It’s a small carpet square, dark blue in color, with a white number 1. It’s just big enough for Curiosity to sit in, and he does so happily, watching the screen with renewed vigor as Thomas learns. When the lessons turns from numbers to letters, an A appears in place of the 1. Patton watches from his bean bag with a smile on his face.

“You can shrink your bag back to fit you,” Curiosity says to him, watching as his carpet square changes again, this time an ‘L’ on top. Patton shakes his head hard.

“What if you want to sit next to me again? I’ll just keep it big, just in case,” Patton says plainly and Curiosity spits his name out in confusion to the kindness. Patton beams, and does so every time Logan decides to sit next to him instead of in his own chair, for whatever reason.

Other sides do appear, but never for long, they never get chairs. The house changes so Patton thinks they have rooms, but he’s never seen their doors. Some of them stick around while others skirt away as quick as possible to wherever. Patton does his best to make friends with them, it only works sometimes.

One of the sides he makes friends with is Caution, their over sized purple sweater swallows their body whole. It takes some subtle and soft convincing but they do sit next to Patton in his bean bag, fiddling with his sleeves. They speak quietly of things to look out for, the lamp table in the hallway, and things to avoid, the electric plugs. Logan writes these things down in a small pad of paper. It makes Caution smile when he does

Caution pops up often but doesn’t stick around long, just says his thing and leaves. Patton always manages to get a hug from them before they go.

Another side he manages to make friends with is a lot more outspoken. They banter with him about right and wrong, even Logan smiles a little when he joins in. Though Patton feels a little off when Pranks talks about how keeping people in the dark isn’t too bad, he likes Prank’s mismatched eyes and when they elongate their ‘s’s.

But Pranks and Caution don’t get chairs, and Patton never finds the door to their rooms.

Patton keeps his beanbag for a long while, it’s a good sharing spot, but Logan’s chair changes very much over the years, morphing into the kind of chair Thomas sits in for school every year. It’s just a year after Logan’s first chair change into an actual little chair, does a new chair actually appear.

It’s.. grand to say the least. It’s a small throne of bark and leaves, but there’s glowing lights that float around it like fireflies. The side that comes with it is just as wild, dressed in leaves that remind Patton of the boy who never grows up. Imagination stands on his throne, proclaiming leadership with his wooden sword. Though Logan twists up his nose, Patton claps along and is willing to follow in the games.

“It’s called follow the leader!” Imagination would tell them all sorts of things to do and Patton would giggle. Logan had problems when the games made no sense, which a lot of them did. It caused a few problems between the two of them, Logan claiming the games didn’t have any rules, Imagination claiming that’s what made them fun.

Sometimes though, and those are the times when Patton stepped in to calm them down, the two would get along and the games they would come up with, the intensity in which they came up with them, would blow Patton away with how amazing they were. He would be silly to not play along.

When Pranks pops up, he and Imagination do wild things, but Patton feels odd when they tease each other a little too much. Imagination gets frustrated when Pranks gets a little too mean and puts out his own insults. Pranks hisses and disappears then, still, Imagination is the first person he seeks out when he comes back.

Caution hides behind Patton when he shows up. Imagination is loud and bold and nothing like Caution is. There is something charming however, about the way Imagination claims that he would protect them all and the little way Caution smiles at the declaration. But Caution doesn’t stick around either.

His visits, and Pranks as well, get few and far between as Thomas grows. So it’s just Patton, Logan, and him.

“My name is Roman, but you may call me sir, or leader, or king, if you like,” Imagination tells them one day. Patton laughs some more and Logan snorts.

“I like Roman,” He says. It may have been intended as an insult in some way, but both Logan and Roman are smiling, so it’s okay. They turn their smiles to Patton and in a burst of childish energy, tackle him into the bean bag. Maybe, just maybe, Patton makes it grow a bit bigger for all three of them to sit in comfortably snuggled together.

Roman’s chair goes through phases as well, the biggest one when Thomas is older and realizes two things. One: that he can’t fly, and two: he is growing up. His throne of tree bark and leaves is nothing but a husk of itself as Roman’s lost boy outfit doesn’t fit him as well anymore. It tears Roman up inside to know he has to change, but Logan and Patton are there for him.

“You can do the more big people things now,” Logan tells him.

“You can help more people,” Patton tells him too.

“You can fight the monsters in the closet.” A new voice tells him as well. They turn then. The new side stands there awkwardly, wrapped in a purple blanket that covers half his face. He shakes in his spot and he doesn’t have a chair.

“The monsters in the closet?” Logan asks curiously. Patton shrugs, but Roman gets angry.

“The monsters in the closet aren’t scary!” He shouts. He knows those monsters, thought of them. The new side flinches.

“Yes they are!” He screams back and the mind palace creaks with something unknown. The new side flinches again, hiding his face more in his blanket. Thomas has recently become scared of new things, discovering spiders and the dark more in depth than he ever has before, taking the shirts Roman thought looked like a creature, and making it something terrible.

“I’m not scared of monsters.” Roman says defiantly and stalks off towards his room. He doesn’t reappear for a few days. The new side stands in the corners, hiding in their blanket. It reminds Patton of Caution when he first appeared but this side has a room. The door is black and sits right next to Logan’s.

The new side and Roman don’t agree on what is scary versus what isn’t. Logan tries to understand their concerns but doesn’t get when they are seemingly afraid of nothing. Patton speaks soft with him and tries to get him to smile and relax. Only a few times do they join Patton on his beanbag, curling into a ball and keeping himself from touching anybody.

“What’s your name?” Patton asks him one night, both of them curled a little closer than normal, a cartoon playing in front of their eyes. The side glances at Patton and mumbles into their hands.

“’m Fear now,” They say. Patton smiles softly and holds their hand through the night. He’s unsure what to do when they wake up with a nightmare crawling in their system. They scream and cry and Patton wishes he could do something. He’s relieved when Roman does. He barrels down from his room, sword drawn, and slides to a stop in front of Fear with a look of determination in his face.

“Where is it? Where is it? I’ll fight it off! Where is it?” He boasts. Fear just clings to himself and Patton can only hug him and hope it helps. Roman spins around and growls. He turns on the lights and moves about the room.

“Nothing under Logan’s chair,” He announces, getting up from a kneeling position in front of the chair in question. Fear peeks up then, watching Roman go to his throne.

“Nothing under my chair,” He announces as well. He huffs and goes to their kitchen, cabinets opening and closing with little care.

“Nothing hiding in here either,” Roman huffs out with a hand on his hip. His sword once wood, is now a shiny metal. Patton eyes it carefully about how dangerous it is, but Roman seems confident with it.

“There’s no monster to fight,” In a way, Roman sounds disappointed, but Fear has stopped shaking from the dream, staring at Roman with a bit of wonder in their eyes.

“Thank you,” He chokes out. Roman looks down at him and scoffs.

“It’s nothing. I’m.. supposed to fight for things, I said I would protect you all.” Roman says bringing up an old promise. Patton smiles up at him, proud at the growing he’s doing. Roman stays with them that night, sword in one hand, holding Fear’s hand in the other. In a sleepy haze Fear calls Roman a knight, or even a prince. Roman hides his smile in his hand. It’s a tense truce, and one that doesn’t last.

Roman’s and Fear’s way of thinking clash. They get in fights and arguments that both Logan and Patton try to stop, but they can only do so much. Roman wants Thomas to run and jump and leap off buildings. Fear wants Thomas to stay home and be safe in bed. They do not get along. Roman has stopped going to Fear when he screams from the nightmares.

Logan’s chair now has a desktop to it, and a place for books underneath, his trait name as changed to Learning. Patton’s beanbag has form now, looking more and more like a couch every passing day, and big enough for all of them. Roman, now Daydreams, with his new found role of fighting for things and his flair for dramatics, his chair has a gold tint to it, no longer made of leaves but of polished wood. Fear still doesn’t have a chair.

It’s around the time Thomas is in middle school that Fear goes to his room, and doesn’t come out. Patton calls him for food and Logan does so because he’s asked. Roman does once but he receives no response either. Eventually Fear’s door goes grey and disappears all together, but they can still feel his presence when Thomas is scared, a creaking of something unknown in the house.

No other side appears for a long time. No visits from any of the others either.

High school has Patton’s chair becoming a big, comfy couch, reminiscent of an old TV show. Perfect for friends and family and thankfully not as big. Logan and Roman join him on it sometimes to watch Thomas in his day, or even the occasional movie. Logan’s chair still looks like Thomas’s school desks. Every so often Patton will try to convince him to have something more practical, or soft.

“Not necessary, I can gain knowledge perfectly fine like this,” Logan would say and continue to write in a notebook, one of many he will go through.

Roman’s throne has grown more elaborate with his style. His old leaves have been traded out for a dashing suit of red and white. Sometimes Patton sees him in a crown and bows accordingly. Roman laughs but Patton thinks he appreciates the gestures.

With Thomas growing and knowing new things, becoming a more worldly person, Patton’s name has changed. He’s still Thomas’s feelings, but he knows better now. His sense of Morality has grown and Patton loves his new role. Logan praises him and Roman calls him a ‘compass for true love’. Patton isn’t sure what that means, but he likes it.

Roman has taken a new flair, belting out songs at every chance instead of thinking about them. His name changes again, this time to Theatrics. Thomas has taken a liking to theater and Roman throws himself into the ideas that it brings, the flair it has. Logan is off put, but he makes sure Thomas practices and Roman doesn’t get too carried away. There’s a certain something every time Thomas gets on stage however, that creaks the house with something unknown, before Roman lets loose.

It’s not until Thomas’s first panic attack that the word is used, and a new chair appears. Logan does his research, Roman gets bristled, and Patton, well, Patton is instantly curious about what kind of side would want just a plain wooden stool as a chair.

“It’s called anxiety, when a person feels like that,” Logan told them, eyeing the new chair curiously. It’s a plain three legged stool that looks like it could be found in a haunted house or an antique store. Roman sneers in annoyance.

“Thomas can get over that easily,” Roman says. Patton sighs.

“It happened once it’s likely to happen again, it doesn’t just go away,” Logan says tensely. Roman makes a face and Patton glares at them both. Hopefully this new side can help them out.

The new side doesn’t show right away. They stay locked in their room, their door right where Fear’s had disappeared years ago and somehow even more black. Patton can only wonder. Fortunately, or rather unfortunate if you ask Roman, he doesn’t have to wonder long.

“He doesn’t feel okay,” Patton whimpers, hands tense on his legs as he sits in the very middle of his couch.

“Why is he freaking out?” Roman hisses to Logan, leaning forward in his throne with his sword bouncing on his leg.

“I don’t know,” Logan hisses back, books open on his desk and hands in his hair.

“Maybe because being on stage to be judged by a bunch of people is scary,” A new voice says. They all jerk towards the new side, finally out of their room. They wear a black hoodie that covers half their face and their arms cover their chest. They slink into the now silent room, flop down on the wooden stool, and manage to pull their legs up underneath them to sit criss-cross.

They raise their hand and make a grabbing motion, and Thomas’s breathing gets caught in his throat. He’s backing away from the stage and turning to another actor looking to audition.

“I can’t do it,” Thomas says. It sets off a train reaction among the sides. Roman screaming about their chance, the new side screaming back about how bad it will go. It all feels vaguely familiar to Patton.

“This is for his dream of being in a big production and you’re here to ruin that!” Roman spits out.

“No, I’m here to save him from making a huge idiot of himself Princey!” The new side spits back. Suddenly Roman’s blinking dumbly with his mouth dropped open. Logan’s book as fallen out of his hands and to the floor. Patton carefully stands.

“Fear?” He quietly guesses. The new side snorts.

“Been there, done that, got insomnia from it. I’m Anxiety now,” They say and just as they came, they slink out of the living area and back to their room. Patton looks to the wooden stool. Fear never got a chair, but he’s different now, he’s stronger now.

But some things aren’t different. Like the way Roman and Anxiety clash. As Thomas continues to grow up, the two butt heads hard, never bothering to try and talk things through like Patton asks them to do, never looking it at from another perspective like Logan suggests. They fight and bicker and it puts strain on all of them.

Patton sits alone on his couch most days.

He wants to be friends with Anxiety, as much as he can at least, but Anxiety keeps to himself. He rarely talks and when he does it’s something mean and sarcastic. Patton isn’t sure what to do when Anxiety looks guilty for talking like that, but he knows it doesn’t feel right. So he keeps inviting him for dinners and breakfasts and even late night hot chocolate no matter what the other two say.

One day during Thomas’s later high school years Patton goes downstairs and hears Anxiety’s voice talking at length. He’s curious, but the person he’s talking to sets Patton on edge in a way he can’t describe to the point he stops dead on the stairs.

“I can’t just do that Secrets,” Anxiety says bitterly to the other side unaware of Patton’s presence. He’s sitting on his stool, hunched over and sounding very displeased. The other side scoffs and crosses their arms. They wear black like Anxiety does, but something a little more dapper with yellow suspenders and a fedora with yellow trim.

“Oh come on friend! It’s not hurting anybody if he keepsss it to himssself.” They hiss and Patton swallow hard at their words. There’s something familiar yet unnerving about their mismatched eyes.

“Someone is going to find out eventually and I’m not looking forward to the work load that comes with either option, so just shut up!” Anxiety’s voice goes deep, distorted, and the house creaks with something unknown as he stands. The other side, Secrets, goes wide eyed for a moment then glowers back at Anxiety.

“Ffffine.” Secrets sinks out then. Patton watches silently for a moment as Anxiety stumbles back to his stool and curls in on himself. The shadows in the room seem to grow. Patton takes the chance to go closer. He places a soft hand on Anxiety’s shoulder.

“What’s the matter kiddo?” He asks. Anxiety claws at his face but looks up at Patton with a pained expression.

“Thomas is gay,” He says quietly. Patton blinks down at him.

“Yes,” He says plainly back. Though he may not have ever used the word himself, Patton always felt more flutter at cute boys. He knows more than the others.

“What are we going to do?” Anxiety asks then and he looks so small, so scared, just a boy wrapped in a hoodie that’s too big for him with the world crushing down on his shoulders. Patton hums.

“Well,” He meanders and sits on his couch, the shadows creeping away from his presence. He pats the cushion next to him and though Anxiety audibly swallows he stands and joins Patton on the couch. All it takes is Patton opening his arms in a silent invitation for Anxiety to hide in his shirt.

“We’re going to be okay,” Patton says.

The entire mind palace is in turmoil for a while. Anxiety doesn’t mean to have as much influence as he does when the house creaks with that something unknown, but Patton sticks up for him as many times as it takes to make Roman stop blaming him for everything. And Patton is right, eventually, things go back to being okay. Hot chocolate at night becomes a lot less lonely with Anxiety joining him, if only sometimes.

Logan is enamored with college, his chair reminiscent of the lecture halls Thomas spends his days in. His name has changed too, to fit Thomas’s new thoughts and what he can do with them. Logic is very proud of his new trait title, and likes to prove it at length. Patton likes to hear him talk.

Roman has taken to acting more, thinking of new stories off new stories and getting lost in his own head. His theatrical nature surely hasn’t died down, and his throne of plush red cushions and golden trim on a white marble base proves that. Thomas’s Creativity has a shining spot, and Roman loves the light.

College is when Logan and Anxiety almost get along. It’s an uneasy thing, but they both work hard to make sure Thomas finishes his homework on time. Though there are times Patton has to drag away a fuming Logan from the endless spiral of ‘did we, did we not?’ that Anxiety can spur them into. Patton knows Anxiety feels guilty when that happens. Luckily, Logan forgives him.

Roman doesn’t talk much to the other side, though Anxiety avoids him too. Only once during a Disney movie did he see them get along, and that’s when Anxiety sang along quietly to the bad guy song. Roman started the song over and played it louder, singing along as well, so that Anxiety could sing louder too but still have his voice covered.

Patton likes Anxiety, is wary sometimes, but likes him all the same. There’s something in him that makes Patton think even with the new name, new chair, new weird double voice, that Anxiety is still just a scared little boy wrapped in a blanket. He gets glimpses of that when Roman enters a room too loudly and Anxiety jumps, or when someone accidentally touches him and his body recoils.

But there are times when Patton, who has found a love for jokes, makes a little funny, and Anxiety hides his mouth with a sleeve covered hand. There’s something more to his dark and scary demeanor. Patton wants that part of him to come out, for him to be comfortable showing that part of him.

Thomas gets thrown into a world of social media and making videos. Roman thrives in the attention and the ability to burst with creativity. Logan is a little on edge about the stability of it all, but likes looking up new information for Roman to use. The writing process is a joint effort for them both. Patton loves the motives and helps Roman put as much love into the work as they can.

It’s here that Roman gains his peace with Anxiety. It’s the editing process. Roman knows his vision, and although Anxiety takes overthinking to a new level, he’s there on his stool watching the video being cut down properly, picking it apart for the best bits and refusing to use things that make it look bad. With his input, Roman begrudgingly admits, the videos turn out better. It’s a tense truce once more. But Thomas is older, he understands the world more, and the truce stays.

“Why don’t you change your chair?” Patton asks Logan one day. It’s still shaped like the old college chairs Thomas used to sit in. Logan shrugs.

“I don’t see a reason too,” He says. Roman snorts and continues to paint his nails a bold red.

“Come on Poindexter, that can’t be good for you anymore,” Roman waves a newly painted fingers in the chair’s direction. Logan sighs.

“I shall consider it.” Luckily he does. Patton knows that chair couldn’t have been good for his back or easy for Logan to change. He knows Logan wishes Thomas would have a more stable job, or even took more stock in his college years. Changing his chair from the lecture hall days to something new is admitting that things are changing and maybe not the way he wishes for them to.

However, one day it’s an easy lounge chair. There’s still a desk top to it but closer to the side, perfect for putting a cup of coffee on, or even another book like Logan has now. Patton just smiles at him, proud as can be, and Logan buries his head deeper in his book at the affection. He’s proud of himself too.

Roman’s throne hasn’t changed much, and he still throws a leg over the armrest dramatically when he feels the need. Patton’s couch is big enough for them all, and now that Anxiety is more accepted, getting slowly more comfortable, he joins them.

“You can change your chair too ya know,” Roman says during a movie night. Anxiety laughs it off nervously, rubbing at his arms, giving his creaky wobbly stool an odd look.

“I don’t know, am I allowed to?” He asks. Patton giggles and Logan twists up his nose.

“Did someone say you can’t?” Anxiety flinches at that.

“No, not really I just. That’s all it’s ever been.” Patton doesn’t like the uneasy look in Anxiety’s eyes. He holds his hand tight as Anxiety tells them where his room disappeared to when he still went by Fear. The subconscious part of Thomas’s mind is a bit darker. It’s nothing too bad, but the other sides living there can be. Anxiety only got to come back because some part of Thomas accepted that he did have anxiety and it was there to stay. The others will have their chance once Thomas can admit his faults.

“All our chairs are like that,” He gestures to the wooden unsteady stool.

“I was told that’s all I had, it felt weird to change it,” He shrugs and Roman grumbles about rudeness.

“You can if you want to,” He says. Anxiety smiles at him and shares his human name for the first time.

Soon those other sides do begin to show up again knowing Thomas is more willing to accept them. One by one and never for long, making appearances and leaving just as quick, just like they did when Thomas was younger, testing the waters. Virgil hisses at them a lot.

One side hisses back and for a moment Virgil actually stops short. It’s tense as they just stare at each other but they both snort out a laugh and though none of them could feel it, something in the house settles.

It takes a couple weeks for the change to happen, and no body makes a big deal of it, for that Virgil is thankful. He sits curled up in his new chair, legs still pulled underneath him, but the cushions to his rocking chair are plush purple and the chair creaks softly when he moves back and forth. There’s a smile on his face now as he watches the screen with them.

The side that hisses back shows up the most and sticks around longer than the others, gently hissing, as gentle as hissing can be, at Virgil as if they could talk in such a language. Logan took to try and detail their conversation once, he got a headache afterwords and the two other sides snickering into their hands.

Patton gets a weird feeling from them, a little something off. It’s not until he hears Virgil and this side whispering soft apologies and talking about a disagreement over Thomas’s safety they had so long ago does he know who they are. He feels much better knowing Virgil and Secrets have gotten past their spat. It’s not until the side is laying on the compliments to Roman does Patton know who they used to be. Pranks has certainly changed a lot. He and Virgil spend a lot of time together, finding comfort in the other from where they used to live. His appearance has changed for something dramatic as has his trait name.

Deceit makes them uneasy in some ways, but his debates with Logan are something to witness, only comparable to when Deceit and Roman get on the stage together being as wild as they once were. He seems to fit in despite his mismatched eyes and darker way of looking at things.

It’s why none of them are surprised when a new chair appears, somewhat behind Logan’s and Patton’s. Patton simply drags his fingers across his couch to make it grow just a bit longer for them all to sit on. The new chair is big enough for two people if they squished, or for one if they want stretch room. It’s made of wood with a thick black cushion and reminds them of a futon that doubles as a bed, but smaller. The lamp up top confuses them the most though Logan’s guess is it’s for reading.

It’s not until Dee and Virgil come downstairs, groggy from a night staying up talking about the truth of mankind that they all find out. Vigil flops to his rocking chair, not ready to deal with people, and Dee eyes the chair suspiciously. He taps it with his fist, presses on the cushions to check for softness, and runs his fingers over the wood. When he turns on the lamp, his eyes widen.

He sinks out, and appears back just as quick with a large black and yellow blanket. He curls himself in it and curls onto the chair, and under the heat lamp happily hissing as he does.

Patton giggles to himself while Roman rolls his eyes fondly. Logan takes a notebook out of thin air and makes a quick note about snakes and heat. Patton serves them all breakfast, bringing Virgil’s and Dee’s to them with a quick ‘be careful not to spill’. They are all important to Thomas in some way, and now they all have a place to be.

#dlamp #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #all sanders #fic #polyamsanders #i guess #sort of #my post

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oneofyatosfollowers · 4 years

Text

One of a Kind- Chapter 7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191861/chapters/51333751#workskin

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13360973/1/One-of-a-Kind

Yato hasn't felt panic in a long time. It made him feel like a child, like his Father was still angrily standing over him. Like he was still strapped to the operation table having iron and wires melted into his body. But now, it wasn't him on the bed being taken apart. Yato kicked at the light-wall, shaking when it felt like cement. The Emishi next to him was yelling something, startling Yato's other neighbor awake. From his right, a woman put a hand on his shoulder, to the left the Wall-H gripped his shirt and tried to pull him back.

"What are you doing?"

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Yato threw them both off and put his hands in his hair and tugged.

"Arg! I don't have time for this!" Yato pointed his finger at the wall shooting the light's base with his laser. The wall flickered but didn't budge, Yato leaned over and tried the control panel. At some point the bear-man had gripped one of his pockets and fumbled his iPod. A happy song from the Capybara Movie blasted from Yato's speaker, making his head spin.

"Hey! This cutie's letting us out!" His female neighbor squealed in joy, gathering the attention of others who've been ignoring the newcomer's panic.

"If we don't get fixed, we don't have to work!" A voice cheered.

"I don't want to get torn apart!" Another agreed.

The panel short-circuited and the wall to his bed glitched out. Yato tumbled out into the hall and scrambled to his feet. He dashed down the hall, happy jingles bouncing off the walls, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

Hiyori still sat without a hand when Yato burst through the glass wall. The human doctors shrieked and one of the nurses dropped the handgun he was holding.

"Yato? What are you doing!" Hiyori shouted over his music. She reached out with her other hand, the other one un-gloved and pistol less. Completely fine. One of the doctors lunged for him and Yato swerved out of reach and scooped the gun off the floor. His whole body was trembling, but stilled when his hands were secured around a weapon.

"Yato, don't! Masaomi, grab it!" Hiyori commanded to a young doctor next to her. Masaomi inched closer to the cyborg with awe, asking a bunch of questions along with the ruckus. The Wall-E was too distracted by the giant whirling mechanism that hung from the ceiling. It looked like a mechanical spider with each of of it's arms equipped with some sharp metal tool.

Yato leaped out of his skin when the doctor wrapped his hand around the gun. The two men wrestled for a second when the gun fired, it's blast going through the Yato-shaped hole in the glass. Everyone's eyes followed the blue ball of fire as it flew down the hall and hit a small black square on the entrance wall.

The control panel glitched and all was quiet for a moment. Then, one by one the blue walls holding the patients fell out of existence. Yato looked back at the doctor who huffed out an unironic laugh, then at Hiyori who face spelled murder. The gun was dropped and Yato put his hands up and backed way slowly.

"N-Now Hiyori. We talked about this. It was an accident." Yato tried to passify the Eve as she stepped off the table and slipped her glove back on. Her eyes narrowed as she tugged it down tight. Masaomi looked back at Yato with the same color eyes. Yato noticed his lab coat had the name 'Iki' stitched on the front pocket.

"You better start running, pal." Masaomi Iki said. But that was unnecessary. At some point, Yato's neighbor had come to the back along with a handful of others.

"Hey buddy! You did it! The walls are down, let's get out!" The Wall-H cheered. Yato wasn't given time to formulate a response before the mob of freed cyborgs swept him off his feet.

"Yato!" Hiyori shouted. Yato shrugged with a sheepish smile as he was carried off. Hiyori's voice was drowned out as the Wall-E was paraded down the hall and out of the medical center. Yato fumbled his iPod to turn off the peppy music while Hiyori ran after him. Yukine, who was dozing off on the transport, leaped to his feet in surprise.

"What the-? You idiot! What did you get yourself into?" Yukine said, stepping out of the way of the mob. Yato couldn't help but laugh at how absurd this was, that is until someone triggered the alarm.

"Grab him!" Yato pointed at the Mo as he was carried by. Yukine tried to escape but Yato's neighbor got to him first, scooping up the tiny teen with ease.

"Yukine! Yato!" Hiyori was close behind as the pack of wild cyborgs made its way down the hall. All of traffic was disrupted as cyborgs workers threw themselves out of the way and off of transports as the escapees charged down the hall.

"Hiyori! Please save me!" Yukine tried to roll out of the crowd's hands. But suddenly, the crowd stopped short and was silent. Yato was suddenly tossed off the pack of cyborgs, in front.

"Oof! Hey what's the big idea, guys?" Yato trailed off when he saw the scared and cautious looks of the escapees. The Wall-E looked up and saw a wall of black and red. Hiyori slowed when she caught up, slightly out of breath. Yukine now stood on his tip-toes, trying to see over the crowd

"Yukine, what's happening?" Hiyori asked. Yukine glanced at her, then continued trying to see over shoulders.

"I don't know, they just stopped and threw Yato towards the front. Maybe they finally got tired of being covered in dust."

"Halt. Everyone here is under arrest for questioning and or containment." An authoritative voice spoke crystal clear. The man wore the same uniform as the rest of the Secur-T. He seemed to have become a cyborg around Yato's age. He had dark clean cut brown hair with green eyes behind glasses. When those eyes met Yato's he quirked a brow, his glasses had streams of light dance across them, giving him whatever information he asked for.

"You're- You're a-" his brows shot up to his hair line as he read the tiny words on the glass one more time.

"What is it? What's the hold up, Kazuma?" Another voice made itself known. Strong, commanding, smooth, and feminine. The Secur-Ts parted to make way for a tall woman wearing the same uniform with a matching trench coat and military beret. Her name was written in a blaring white labeling the blonde woman, Bishamon. She made her way to the very front and stopped with her shined boots itches from Yato's fingers. Her light eyes gazed down at the Wall-E with fierce appalling.

"Kazuma? What am I looking at?" Bishamon asked without looking away from the man on the floor. The bifocaled Secur-T rushed to the woman's side and frantically whispered in her ear, her eyes widening at whatever he said. Behind Yato, the escaped cyborgs also parted to let a pushy Hiyori through followed by Yukine.

"Lieutenant General Bishamon!" Hiyori gasped. Yukine sucked air between his teeth while Yato used one of his learned curse words. Bishamon look at the three, then at the rest of the group.

"You will all be apprehended. Do not resist." Bishamon spoke with authority. Hiyori stepped forward and held up her hands, one still in the gun.

"Please, Lieutenant General, I am an Eve that has returned positive-"

"I am sorry Eve, but I am under strict orders to apprehend you and this," she gestured with a wrinkled nose to Yato, "thing. Come quietly."

"Orders?" Yukine echoed. Yato couldn't agree more. He narrowed his eyes at the towering Secur-T, knowing exactly who's orders she was following. This woman was their enemy. Yato jumped to his feet with an equally fiery expression.

"Oh no you don't!" Yato put a hand on his compactor, pausing only to glance at Yukine in surprise when the kid came to stand next to him with his roller. The woman narrowed her eyes and set her feet shoulder with the part.

"If you don't come quietly, we will make you. All units, ready your borders! Kazuma, send out a warning." Bishamon moved her coat out of the way to reveal a cane sword, getting into a battle stance. The other Secur-Ts let out a collective 'yes ma'am' folded their arms behind their backs. The gold buttons on their red shoulder marks clipped open and a red dot started to glow. Kazuma faced the three of them and touched the side of his glasses. A shutter sound was heard.

"Caution: Rouge Workers," was announced though the speakers by a robotic voice. The very ship seemed to vibrate with the message as it repeated five times. Bishamon and her Secur-Ts started to advance in a line.

"Yukine, hang on!" Hiyori shouted. Yukine could just barley grab her arm as her flight boots activated and she shot forward. Before Yato could even blink, he was flying through the air bridal style, Yukine waving around Hiyori like a cape. Behind them, shouts were heard as some of the cyborgs were captured while others fought through the line of police force.

The trio flew overhead, Hiyori seemed to know which turns to make as more Secur-Ts appeared out of nowhere. Glowing hallow graphic signs were red with caution as they showed the picture Kazuma took of the three of them. Their faces stared back at them every couple feet, surrounding the four-way Hiyori dropped them in. She landed heavily beside them, huffing that she couldn't carry so much weight. Transports stopped as cyborgs gasped and whispered among each other each other, looking between the warning and the group in the center. Hiyori spun around with a distressed look before whipping around to yell at the Wall-E.

"Yato! There was no reason to freak out like that!" She threw her arms open and the boys shrunk back. Not even Yukine tried to correct her, choosing simply to hide behind Yato. Hiyori heaved in quick breaths, but she didn't look tired. No, she looked upset, her eyes were starting to get wet with pink around the sides. The Wall-E stood straighter, face morphing into one more stern. He reached back and grabbed Yukine's wrist then wrapped his fingers around the Eve's hand dragging them behind as he took them down the hall.

"In there!" Yukine took the lead and pulled the two to a door labeled 'Cleaner's Closet'. They stopped only for Yukine to put his hand on a black glass panel. His hand was outlined in green and scanned, then the door opened. The Mo shoved them inside, pushing the button for the door to slid shut behind them. They listened for the organized boots of the Secur-T to run by, followed by the trampling of the escaped cyborgs.

The two cyborgs had their backs against the wall, Yukine sliding down the door with his eyes closed. Yato stood off to the right, his hand was still occupied with a slender white-gloved one. Hiyori panted against him, her forehead resting lightly against his collarbone. When she looked up, she saw Yato's intense eyes, dark with several emotions. Hiyori's lips parted to let out one last puff, the rest of her not moving. This confused Yato, who quirked an eyebrow and squeezed their hands trapped between them.

"Oh! Uh," Hiyori stepped back and Yato let her hand slip away, "Sorry." They didn't turn away from each other, but they couldn't look each other either. Yukine, who opened his eyes and sat up at the sound of the awkward coughing and burning faces, looked between them.

"Can we stop the awkward tension and figure a way out of here? All that first sergeant has to do is ask his glasses to show the security cam." Yukine informed. Hiyori made a noise and began to pace, her hand coming to her chin. Yukine stood up next to Yato, who was glancing around the room, his sensors useless on foreign ground. Thier attention was stolen back by the Eve, who perked up and ran to the window. Her head turned left and right then she spotted something below.

"There." her finger touched the glass. She moved so the two cyborgs to see where she was pointing.

"The individual ships?" Yukine looked back at Hiyori in question.

"How will that help us find the plant?" Yato asked. Hiyori didn't answer for a moment, her head down.

"It won't. I just, have and idea."

"But-"

"-Let's go. We need to hurry." Hiyori didn't wait to hear the Wall-E's protests. She spun on her toes and made her way to the door, back straight, head held high. Yukine followed after her, looked back at Yato for an explanation. The older cleaner didn't have one, instead he pressed his lips in a tight line and followed after them. He put his back to the wall again, Yukine next to him. He nodded to Hiyori on the other side. She nodded back and opened the door.

The hall had an occasional transport, but was otherwise Secur-T free. The young woman stepped out first, no one sparing the Eve a glance, before she gestured for the two to follow. Hiyori lead them to down the hall, to the left, then to a public service elevator. They were quiet once they were inside, Hiyori especially so. Yukine crept forward and touched her arm.

"Hiyori?" He let go quickly when she looked at him, "Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" Hiyori looked behind him at Yato, who gave her a comforting smile, "Uh, yeah." Her eyes fluttered to the floor, then back to the door. The awkward silence was sharply interrupted by the sound of magnetic decelerator slowing down the elevator.

"Wha-What's happening?" Yukine shouted in alarm when the lights flickered. The elevator came to a halt and the lights dimmed. Above the door, a hallow-screen turned on with the picture taken by the Secur-T. The picture glitched out to show the red eyes of the Auto Pilot.

"Please forgive the interruption, passengers. Thanks to our capable Secur-T you have been shown an image of disobedient cyborgs. I regret to inform you these rouge workers are still on the run, but fear not! Our very own Lieutenant General Bishamon is on the case." Kouto threw his arms open with a pleasant, charming smile. He then leaned back on clean table with hands folded together.

"I have a word of caution for our passengers and workers. Among these rebels, there is an alien cyborg, a Wall-E, one of the Earth cleaners. We have reason to believe this cyborg is dangerous and can pose a threat to the safety of everyone on board." The polite smile never left his face as his voice held no note of worry.

"Yato? What?" Hiyori turned to look at Yato, her face as if these words were coming out of his mouth, rather than the intercom. Yato, on the other hand, stared at the screen with a dark expression.

"Unfortunately, there was a problem with the Wall-Es back on Earth. A virus that messed with the connection between what was man and what was machine. This coding error was seen to cause fits of homicidal rage, and as a result most of the Wall-Es shut down each other permanently." A pause. The air in the elevator went still and heavy.

"If this Wall-E is seen, we ask that you report his whereabouts immediately," Kouto leaned in, the reds of his eyes aglow, "This is a matter of great importance concerning our Heaven."

"It's not true," Hiyori took a careful step towards Yato, her outstretched hand and voice shaking, "Tell me that's not true, Yato."

"But please! Don't worry too much! This matter will be resolved without a single issue and we will go on in luxury as normal," The auto pilot leaned back and kicked his feet up on the dash, "That will be all ladies and gentlemen, have a happy, carefree day here on Heaven's Sun!" The screen cut out and the elevator started up again after a couple moments. Yato remained rooted in place but kept his mouth firmly shut.

"Yato?" Yukine asked, "What is he talking about? Fits of rage?" Hiyori couldn't believe it. She didn't want too. She had spent a little over two months with this cyborg tailing her. Looking back, Hiyori had said hurtful things, gave him the cold shoulder without even thinking as to why there weren't any others. Her training had discussed the virus before she went to Earth, but she was told they were all dead and the danger was wiped out. And besides, Yato was nothing but kind and goofy. His smile just as genuine and carefree as Heaven's passengers.

"He's just trying to get Yato captured," Yukine insisted, "I'm sure-"

"It's true." Yato interrupted. Voice clipped and toneless. The two looked at him, faces stuck in disbelief and terror. The elevator doors opened to an empty hall way, Yato brushed past them and stepped out, looking back at them with a blank face.

"Are you coming? You got a plan, right?" Yato asked, tilting his head. Hiyori took a moment to steel herself then nodded and followed him out. Yukine did too, eyes to the floor.

"We should hurry, the security cams might recognize our faces if we don't move fast." Hiyori said, picking up the pace. The boys nodded and took off running after her. The halls empty for the most part, only their footfalls and heaving breaths echoed off the pristine walls. After a moment, Yukine spoke from Yato's left.

"It doesn't matter anyway." He declared almost to himself. Yato looked at the kid with a shocked look.

"It was a long time ago." Hiyori tacked on after a couple breaths. Yato looked ahead at her too, his inhale sputtered and he let out a sharp exhale, but said nothing.

Hiyori turned right down a hall and slowed down. This hall was more grey and black like the dock of the Eve Transport, however the doors were much smaller. Their circular entrances would really only let one or two people in at a time. Hiyori clicked a button next to the first door, causeing it to slide open, then walked in first. Yato followed her, then Yukine who shut the door and flicked on the lights. Most of the back wall was the individual shuttle, a fishbowl looking thing with one window in the front and back. Lining the side walls were what looked to be astronaut gear and tanks. A little right to the center, sat a control pad with glowing buttons big and small. Hiyori walked up to it and started typing.

"So," Yukine held out the 'o' as he nervously jammed his hands in his pockets, "what is the plan?" He then ran over to help Yato pull off the space helmet.

"Yeah, Hiyori," Yato's voice echoed inside, "what's the plan?" The Wall-E sounded much happier, even as the Mo cursed and tried to figure out what button he pressed. Hiyori looked at Yato, her expression difficult to place.

"Just, give me a moment." Hiyori glanced up at the screen as it tried processing whatever she was typing. The space shuttle turned on, it's interior lighting up and the room started whirling. A deep pop echoed as the helmet was yanked off Yato's head thanks to both the cyborgs' efforts. When they walked over, Hiyori opened the shuttle's door.

"Path of destination confirmed: Earth." The dash informed the room. Yato and Yukine stood next to Hiyori and looked up at the screen. A large cartoonish picture of a green and blue Earth showed next to some stats and travel guides.

"Earth?" Yukine seemed to perk up, "We're going to Earth?" He sounded almost excited. Yato perked up a bit too. He wasn't in a rush to get back home, but it would surely be more fun having these too around.

"That's a great idea! We could find another plant to replace the lost one! Oh Yukine, you're gonna love it there! I'll show you around, introduce you to Nora." Yato threw his arm around the kid and walked to the tiny spaceship. Yukine stepped in first, pretending he wasn't carefully listening to the Wall-E's Earth ramblings. Once Yato ensured Yukine was safely buckled in, he turned to do the same to Hiyori. His talking trailed off when he noticed Hiyori stayed rooted in place with a pained expression.

"Hiyori?" Yato tried, tilting his head. Yukine leaned forward in his seat to try to catch her expression.

"What's wrong? You're coming right?" Yukine asked. The Eve took a deep breath and looked Yato squarely in the eye. Her voice, holding the same superior authority it did when she kept everything classified.

"You're going to Earth. I'm staying here to find the plant."

#noragami #yatogami #yato #yukine #hiyori #noragami fanfiction #fanfiction #wall-e #iki hiyori #Hiyori Iki

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starrybbarnes · 5 years

Text

Caught in the Act [b.b]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (platonic)

Summary: you would like a pole. you have acquired it. you use it.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author’s note: Hello everyone, this is the start of an era. please enjoy this one-shot! it’s been a while since I’ve written, so drop an ask and give me some inspiration! Feedback is appreciated!

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“You’re ridiculous, Tony.”

“And have you leave this for a couple more cents? Absolutely not.”

You rolled your eyes as Tony Stark stared you down, judgment practically oozing out of him.

Life had been good so far. You were a good friend of Tony’s “intern,” Peter, who was in college and was a couple year than you. The two of you had hit it off, and soon you became an ‘honorary Avenger.’

Today, however, was not good. You had read in an article that there has been a trend on pole exercising. Which basically meant working out with a pole. The ones that exotic dancers use. And you desperately needed to get your hands on one now.

“I really don’t see the issue here, Stark,” you argued, “I just wanna work on my core, you square.”

“And seduce the poor kid? Not a chance.” Tony fought back.

“The kid is 20, Tony.”

“A toddler basically!”

You huffed. This was getting ridiculous. Irrational, even.

You put rested your hands on your forehead and sighed loudly.

“Don’t give me that attitude, y/n”

“I JUST WANT TO LEARN HOW TO POLE DANCE. I NEED ROCK HARD ABS LIKE JAMES”

“Well you could’ve just asked me, doll. I will gladly teach you.”

You whipped your head around and saw at the doorframe a bulky man leaning against it. A hearty laugh escaped his mouth.

Bucky.

The man was a “tall glass of water” as you told Peter once in a conversation. You couldn’t lie to yourself: you knew an attractive man when you saw one.

“Don’t make this about you, Buchanan.” You started, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Why can’t you call me Bucky like everyone else, y/n?” Bucky half-heartedly whined.

It was true, you would call him everything but Bucky. You’d claim to keep it professional, but in truth, you’d start falling for the tin man more by calling him by his adorable nickname.

“With all due respect, Sir “ you joked, “I gotta maintain my ‘profesh’ image.”

“You call Peter ‘Penis Parker’” Bucky said as he raised an eyebrow.

“right, and?”

“You’ve called me ‘frosty the snowman’”

“duh.”

“And Sam ‘bird brain.’”

“Your point?”

Bucky was about to open his mouth when Tony inserted himself into the conversation.

“As much as I’d love for you to become the embodiment of elastigirl, it’s not gonna happen,” Tony interjected.

“You can put it in my room, out of everyone’s hair!” You compromised.

Tony just gave you an incredulous look, shook his head, and walked away.

“Oh, I’ll get that pole.” You mumbled, a smile creeping up on you. You turned to Peter, who saw the plan to form as he saw your face.

“Peter,” you said with a voice 2 octaves higher than you normally do.

“Oh god who are you,” Peter said, wide-eyed.

“Come, young Peter, we’ve got some work to do,” you declared, hooking your arm with his.

The two of you started walking out the door before you heard someone clearing their throat.

You stopped in your tracks and remembered that someone had been there all along.

“Do you need a cough drop, James? Your throat sounds hoarse,” you joked.

“And where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” Bucky questioned as he covered the doorframe.

“Oh you know, outside to get some fresh air,” you replied.

“To do what?”

“Jeez, Barnes, you sound like my parents. Peter and I are just gonna, you know, do young people stuff.”

“Name one thing young people do when they go outside,” Bucky tested.

“Fight crime?” Peter peeped, to which you just sighed and covered your face in complete embarrassment.

Bucky just raised an eyebrow and called the two of you ‘nerds’ and grumbled about keeping an eye on you while walking towards his room.

As he closed the door, he said a little too loudly, “anything you two do, is never gonna get past me.”

Down the elevator you went with Peter, pondering about the interaction you had with the winter soldier, leaving a small smile on your face.

It wasn’t your fault he was a dreamy man, and you scowled at the fact that he was chastising you for wanting a stronger core.

Peter saw the face you made and consoled you by saying that even though you couldn’t tell, but maybe Bucky had some preference over you.

You laughed at that statement as you and Peter were people watching outside the compound.

“It’s true!” Peter reassured you while stuffing some chips in his mouth. Crumbs fly out as he spoke to you. “I’ve seen the interactions, Y/N, and I really think he enjoys your company.”

“Psh, whatever,” you interjected, “he doesn’t take me seriously as a colleague, much less a potential lover. He seems to always speak to me in a condescending tone, it’s annoying.”

“Hey, man,” Peter replied, “Trust me, guys are horrible flirters. I mean, have you seen me trying to talk to MJ?!”

You laughed. He does have a point. If anyone was worse than Bucky at flirting, it was Peter.

“I still want that damn pole, just outta spite now,” you huffed.

Both of you then sat in silence until Peter’s eyes widen, an idea forming, “don’t you have a good friend that’s like, part construction worker, part interior designer.”

A mischievous smiled appeared once again.

“I’m gonna make a couple of calls.”

。。

A week had passed, and Bucky hadn’t seen any trace of you or the spider boy. High and low he looked, from the building terrace to the coffee shop down the street, he even looked under his bed for once.

He knew he wasn’t being hard on you, but he kept racking his brain to pinpoint at which moment in which he had annoyed you or driven you away.

Not that he cared that much, because you guys weren’t a couple or anything. But he was certainly concerned for your wellbeing.

Bucky finished his lunch and was walking towards the couch when a small blurb crashed into him.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s the rush kid? Don’t tell me Stark told you to do his laundry” Bucky cackled.

“Oh no, not this time!” Peter chimed, receiving a look from Bucky, “I’m actually going to work out a bit!”

“That’s great kid,” Bucky commented, “so what’s your routine focusing on today?”

“Not much actually,” Peter replied, “I’ve been working on strengthening my upper body and also I’ve been working on my core strength!”

“Both are good starts, I’m sure you’re gon— wait a minute.”

Bucky stared down Peter, eyes narrowing and mouth closing to a fine line. Peter immediately stopped smiling, eyes popping out of his head. He started stuttering and backtracking on what he said.

But it was too late. Suspicions are growing and the silence kept growing in the air.

Peter kept fidgeting with his hands and finally said, “So, uh, I’m going to my room and actually study for a test. I gotta go.”

Peter ran towards his room and harrowingly escaped the winter soldier's grasp. Bucky kept jiggling the door open, but it was no use: Peter must’ve escaped out the window, probably to go warn you.

Bucky was about to give up when he sensed vibrations through the floor of the compound. Faintly, he could hear some music. Using his super-sonic hearing and stealth, he began his quest to find the source.

The music slowly began to get louder, as Bucky had to go up 3 floors, to which opened to a long corridor and 2 doors. He immediately remembered that on this specific floor there was an abandoned studio, and sure enough, the music was blaring and the bass was at its highest.

Bucky was curious as to what was behind the door. And as he opened the door, surprised became an understatement.

There you were: high on a pole, in a compromising position, and slowly spinning to the ever so sensual music. You were upside down, one leg extended out, the other sustaining you on the pole. Either way, you the pose did nothing hide that you were just in yoga shorts and a sports bra. FRIDAY sensed the door open and abruptly stopped the music.

“FRIDAY, what the hell! Why did you — oh.”

You and Bucky locked eyes for what seemed like an hour. You were still midair, but then slowly started sliding down the pole. You slowly walked to get your cardigan, and swiftly put it on.

Bucky blankly stared. You blinked.

Suddenly, the door bursts open to a panting Peter: “Y/N! Holy Shit you need to stop everything, Bucky is on his way up and —“ he stopped as he saw the two of you just staring at the poor boy.

Peter just sighed, “I’ll be in my room.”

The door closed behind him, the silence engulfing the room again.

Bucky cleared his started and started, “So this is where you’ve been the past week?”

You coughed. “Yeah basically.”

“Does Tony know?”

“Of course not. I had my friend Mark install it.”

You couldn’t really read the room. You were embarrassed, empowered, and everything in between.

“Y/N, I really don’t know how to react.”

“Well, that makes two of us. And you caught me in my favorite part of the song.” you joked.

A dry laugh left Bucky’s mouth, “As much as I don’t want to talk about this, it’s gonna be engraved in my mind, doll.”

“Oh, stop it you,” you fused as you lightly smacked Bucky on the arm, “I was just trying to see how long I can last hanging in the air.”

“I’m still impressed though,” Bucky commented, and then adding, “you looked really good practicing it.”

“Easy there, Barnes,” you warned, “Just because you saw me do this once, doesn’t give you a free pass to drop in whenever and expect a striptease, you perv.”

Bucky’s face turned pink and shyly hid his face. Now was his chance to make a move or forever hold his peace.

“That’s why I kinda uh, wanted to ask you if it was possible to um, you know,” Bucky stuttered as you raised an eyebrow while leaning on the pole.

“No, I don’t know, James,” you chuckled.

“Get a free pass one of these days. N-not as in a striptease though. As in a date,” a flustered Bucky said as he kept looking at his shoes.

Your face softens, and a smile appeared. “I’ll gladly go on a date with you, James. It’d be an absolute delight.”

It was now Bucky’s turn to smile, his eyes shining brighter than before. “How’s about tomorrow at 7 sound?”

You nodded your head as you gave Bucky a kiss on the cheek, “I like the idea of that.”

“Maybe then I can reciprocate the favor and use the pole to dance for you, doll,” Bucky said suggestively as he grabbed you closer.

“In your dreams, Barnes,” you snorted.

。。

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virmillion · 5 years

Text

Ibytm - T minus 50 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 1,638

Logan clutches the laser shooter close to his chest, walking as fast as his feet will allow without full-on running to the safety of a blind spot around the corner (running is against the rules). The red pipes of light beaming from his chest do nothing to calm his nerves, which are more frazzled now than they’ve ever been. Worse even than the time a rumor floated around the fifth floor that Mx. Oatmeal was auditioning candidates to be launched into space to check on the jellyfish. (And in case you were wondering, yes, their last name really is Oatmeal. Please hold your shock.) And if his heart leaps into his throat with enough force to knock him of his breath when his foot catches on a loose seam, well, that’s nobody’s business but his own, isn’t it?

He whips himself around the corner and holds his breath, watching the black reflective wall betray the positions of his pursuers. Their shining blue lights bounce with each of their impossibly quiet footfalls as they swing a hard right turn. One turn too early.

Logan exhales as softly as he can manage, pressing the barrel of his shooter to his ribcage to prevent an inhale too deep, too loud. He releases it, one inch at a time, as his heart rate reluctantly slows. Well, as much as it can slow, given the nerve shakedown he’s putting it through by playing laser tag. Why did he let Virgil talk him into this?

Because it was the soonest you’d be able to see each other again in person, his brain unhelpfully supplies. Logan shakes off the thought, daring another glance around the corner. So thorough is his relief at the empty space that he almost doesn’t notice the swarm of faint blue light advancing from the far end of his hall. His heart finds that familiar place around his tonsils once more.

Clutching the scope to his eye, Logan scurries down the corridor and keeps his eyes peeled for an inconspicuous hiding place, but to no avail. Only one way to go—the last fork at the end of the hall. For all the black lights bouncing around in his skull, he’s surprised he hasn’t been completely blinded yet.

He hesitates at the split, torn between retreading the same ground or making a break for the red base, smack dab in the heart of blue territory. Left or right? Familiarity or safety?

The sound of footsteps hammers to his left. Easily five people, maybe more. Not long behind their broadcasted presence is a herd of blue lights, rattling like so many rain clouds along the walls.

He banks a sharp right.

He ventures down the hall on the balls of his feet, uncertain which way to face. If I continue forward, he reasons, I’ll see anyone coming. If I face backward, he counters, I’ll know how much distance I’ve got on those other blues. But I already know they’re there, and I don’t know who’s in the direction I’m heading. If I face forward, though, the other blues might snipe me from behind. So might someone in front of me. Or the people behind me might drop off, and I’ll be evading for no reason, and maybe even putting myself more at risk.

This thought process continues for some time.

He finds himself settling on a weird half-pivot style, spinning back and forth to scope out all directions, rather than, y’know, picking a direction and sticking with it. By the time he reaches the end of the hall, he almost feels optimistic about his chances of not losing any points for his team. This unearned confidence comes mere moments before he rams into someone with the slopes of his shoulder blades.

Logan lets out a yelp, tossing his weapon in the air and scrambling to point it as he whips around to defend himself—or figure out whether he can escape. He hasn’t decided yet.

The gun just about leaps out of his hands again as he locks eyes with Virgil. Where Logan wields an awkwardly large rifle, clunky in his untrained hands, Virgil spins two mini shooters around his thumbs. He likened them to the Splatoon 2 dualies, but Logan wouldn’t know—he’s never played. Supposedly, Virgil’s next mission following this escapade is to be correcting that lifelong mistake.

Virgil, it might interest you to know, is not on the red team. That is, he’s on the blue team. Against Logan. Sorry, might’ve forgotten to mention that.

The correct thing for Logan to do in this situation would be to tag Virgil’s gear with his hand sensors, or just laser the guy point blank. Virgil is much better at thinking on his feet than Logan. Of course, Logan has the detriment of never having played laser tag before, while Virgil apparently has years of experience under his belt, but that’s beside the point.

Aiming his dualies square at Logan’s chest sensor, Virgil cocks his head to the side and levels a grin at him. Overconfident, certainly, but with good reason.

Logan laughs uncomfortably. “What a tangled web, am I right?” His voice cracks on the last word.

“Said the fly to the spider,” Virgil retorts. Luckily for him—or not, as the case may be—Logan is spared from having to come up with a clever remark by the sound of frantic feet. For the briefest of moments, he’s reminded of the ‘...Daddy?’ ‘Do I look like—’ vine, but he shakes it off when he sees the kid rushing up to greet him. His chest glows a proud red to match Logan’s as he barrels closer, evading what looks like a distant swarm of blue fireflies. The rest of Virgil’s team, no doubt.

The next few things happen in very rapid succession, much too fast for Logan to keep up with. It goes something like this: The kid trips over his (probably untied) shoes, crashes into Virgil’s back, and saves himself with a somersault before continuing past Logan, evidently unimpeded. To the best of your ability, do try to keep up, because that in itself was only one event, the fallout of which Logan would never have predicted. At least, not outside of a cheesy romance movie. Virgil pinwheels his arms from the kid’s collision, his eyes waffling between the duealies he doesn’t want to drop and the balance he doesn’t want to lose. At the former, he succeeds expertly. At the latter, he fails spectacularly. Logan, in an understandable display of his inexperience, tosses his gun to the side and thrusts his arms out—to steady Virgil, to save himself, he isn’t sure. His answer doesn’t delay long.

Virgil releases the faintest of yelps—almost like when you accidentally step on a puppy’s foot—as he falls forward. He spreads his arms out to avoid literally punching Logan in the face as his momentum knocks both of them to the ground. It doesn’t really register in Logan’s mind what, exactly, just happened, until his heart decides to start beating again. An ache is rapidly forming along the side of his spine, but he ignores it in favor of wondering just how compromising their position looks.

Each of Virgil’s hands—both of which are still holding their respective dualies—are planted on either side of Logan’s head, his bent elbows keeping their faces mere inches apart. Where Logan’s feet drew up to his thighs in an attempt to curl in on himself, their progress is blocked by Virgil’s legs—one knee pressed to the ground between Logan’s, and the side of his other shoe planted firmly against the outside of Logan’s leg. Logan forces himself to draw a real breath, pleading with his brain to depart from its currently wayward train. It sprints in circles like a child thrown from one of those playground merry-go-rounds, whipping in incomprehensible circles without a care for what Logan would rather be doing—which is literally anything else, mind you. The messiness of this metaphor should offer some inkling as to how hard Logan is working to keep up with his current situation.

Oh my god, is he going to kiss me, is that what this is, I’ve always seen it in movies but never expected it in real life, oh my god, he’s going to kiss me, oh my god, what do I do, oh my god, oh my god, oh my —

Well, you probably get the picture by now. Also some concerns about whether Virgil will take the opportunity to get a point for his team, whether Logan should try to do the same, all that fun stuff.

Logan’s eyes must widen, or maybe his lips part, or something else in his expression betrays the whirlwind of thoughts in his head, because Virgil’s cheeks suddenly turn bright pink, and Logan is pretty sure it isn’t the reflection of the lights on his vest. Well, maybe the lights are helping a little bit, but Virgil’s face certainly wasn’t that red when they first bumped into each other tonight. Logan swallows around a lump in his throat as Virgil freezes, which is at once both better and worse than when he was, you know, existing like a normal human bent over his friend on the opposing team of a laser tag game. What else would be the next most reasonable thing for Virgil to do but jump to his feet, knocking Logan’s gun farther away in the process?

Logan glances behind himself as he props his weight on an elbow, but the kid on his team is long gone. Beyond Virgil, the swarm of blue is still steadily advancing. Virgil spins his dualies around his fingers once more before running to join them.

After he levels a laser shot square at Logan’s chest, of course.

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm

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n0verias · 5 years

Text

This is a gift for @yabakuboi for the @bakudekuflowerexchange event. I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Can You Hear Me Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Pairing: Bakugou/Izuku Prompt: Spider Lily Rating: Teen Word Count: 3,937 Warnings: Non-graphic depictions of blood/violence, hospitals, comatose AO3 Link

Summary: When a powerful villain puts Izuku in a coma, Bakugou is there to watch over him. He knows he must be strong for Izuku's sake, but he can slowly feel the magnitude of the situation closing in on him, breaking down his walls. At this point, he'll believe in anything if it means Izuku wakes up.

[Spider Lily: Loss, Longing, Abandonment, Reincarnation]

“Bakugou-san, visiting hours are almost over.”

Bakugou paid no mind to the dimwitted nurse who tried to tell him the obvious. He’s been going to this hospital for a month, he didn’t need some damn nurse telling him something as stupid as that.

“Bakugou-san—”

“Fucking hell, I know!” Bakugou lashed out, causing the nurse to physically recoil. “…Sorry, just…give me a moment. Please.”

The nurse looked conflicted, but in the end nodded and scurried down the hallway. Shit, he’ll have to hurry if he didn’t want the doctors to call security on him. Again.

He brought his attention back to the lanky form lying on the hospital bed, IV in arm and tubes attached to what seemed like everywhere possible. Izuku. That’s right, he described Izuku as lanky; probably because all he’s had to eat was whatever the fuck they were feeding him through that tube attached to his stomach. It brought him both grief and almost uncontrollable anger just thinking about how Izuku got here in the first place.

“Kacchan!”

Bakugou looked up just in time to see a million sharpened shards of crystal flying at him. He was on the ground, his legs too injured to react in a timely manner. All he could do was hopefully block them with a large explosion blast. He had to hurry.

As he tried to lift his arm, a sudden jolt of pain caused him to cough violently, blood splattering on the ground. Fuck. But he couldn’t give up. Not now, not when Izuku was watching. There’s no way in hell he would be seen as weak, especially to HIM!

He didn’t have a chance to prove himself. Didn’t have a chance to defend himself. He watched in pain as Izuku leapt in front of him, taking the full force of the crystal shards. Bakugou couldn’t see his face, but he could tell that Izuku was angry. He watched as Izuku charged up an attack so powerful that Bakugou could see every inch of Izuku’s body vibrating, or at least that’s what it looked like.

“D-Deku…Deku don’t—!”

It was too late. Deku charged at the villain with incredible speed, nothing like Bakugou had seen before. All it took was a single punch and the villain plummeted to the ground below, creating a huge tremor that seemed to go on for miles. Bakugou watched in horror as Izuku fell to the ground as well.

Bakugou was sitting in the waiting room, anxious to know what the prognosis was. And as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn’t alone in this terrible waiting game; Kirishima had been the first to arrive, trying to comfort Bakugou as best he could. Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki arrived at almost the same time. It was obvious that Uraraka had been crying for quite some time beforehand, evidenced by the puffy redness around her eyes and the frequent sniffling noises she made. Iida wasn’t crying, but Bakugou could tell that he was even more upset than Uraraka, if that were possible. Of course, Bakugou was also aware that Iida had been in this position once before, with his older brother. Todoroki, to his credit, tried his best not to look upset, and instead take a calm and rational approach, so he could comfort his friends whenever possible. Shinsou and Kaminari were the last to arrive, having been doing a job prior. Kaminari was freaking out to the point that a few nurses had to tell him to be quiet. Shinsou looked like someone had kicked his puppy, but he was in better shape than Uraraka.

Everyone was anxiously sitting around each other when the surgeon entered the room, his expression grim. They all stood up.

“There was extensive damage to his organs, including his heart from the strain of using his powers while already injured. He slipped into a coma shortly after the surgery, and we’re doing what we can to stabilize him, but…” The surgeon sighed. “I’m going to be frank, the chances of him fully recovering are close to zero. I’m not even sure when he’ll wake up, IF he’ll ever wake up.”

It was at that moment that Bakugou’s life came crashing down.

“Dammit…Dammit!” Bakugou clenched his fists as he stared down at Izuku. “Why the fuck did you have to do that, huh?! I had it under control! Now because of you—” Bakugou’s voice cracked. “I have to deal with this shit. When you wake up, I’m gonna kill you for trying to be my hero, you hear me?!”

He stormed out of the room, pushing away the doctor and security guard who came to seize him.

He ended up at All Might’s grave. From one depressing place to another, Bakugou couldn’t help but laugh to himself. He couldn’t help but notice all of the red spider lilies growing around it; even stranger was that All Might’s grave was the only grave with the flowers. Although given what he understood about All Might’s power, maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.

“Why’d you have to go and die when Deku needs you the most right now?” Bakugou scratched his head with irritation. “And don’t give me that shit that you live within Deku. If you did, he wouldn’t be in this mess!”

When Bakugou found out that Izuku basically had the spirits of the previous All Mights within him, at first he thought Izuku was fucking insane. It was like some reincarnation bullshit, something that Bakugou never believed in. But he’s seen the result of the previous All Mights come to Izuku’s rescue on multiple occasions now, so he had no choice but to accept that this was real. Until that day, that is. That day when Izuku needed All Might to save him; the day that Izuku nearly died and is practically on his death bed right now.

“Were you the one who gave Deku the power to go beyond his limits? Because of you, he’s in the hospital with little hope of recovery…” Bakugou’s fury was surprisingly subdued. “He still hasn’t found a successor yet. If he dies now, the power of All Might dies with him!” Tears were beginning to flow. “Don’t you dare take Deku away from me, Old Man!” His palms began to crackle like firecrackers, which told him he had to reign in his frustrations before he did something he would regret. “What are you waiting for? Say something!”

The wind blew harshly just then, though Bakugou paid no attention. He glared angrily at the grave, when his eyes were suddenly drawn to a peculiar white spider lily. It was the only one amongst the red, and Bakugou was surprised he hadn’t noticed it sooner. Acting on impulse, he picked the lily and glared at it. “What the fuck is this supposed to mean, Old Man?” He mumbled to himself, before walking away with spider lily in hand.

“What the fuck did you just say, Deku?”

He stared at Izuku with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Izuku was trembling, his cheeks flushed pink; Bakugou couldn’t help but focus on those freckles because of it.

“I-I like you, Kacchan. Like, as more than a friend!” Izuku’s voice somehow got even higher than it already was. “I know you hate me, and I know we haven’t been great friends since we were kids,” Izuku’s eyes suddenly gained some resolve. “But I noticed how much you changed over the course of our high school years, and before our graduation I realized that my feelings for you changed as well.” The last part was a near whisper, so much so that Bakugou nearly missed it.

Bakugou was caught speechless, his mouth hung slightly agape.

“Please, can you say something?” Izuku pleaded. “Anything is better than silence right now, even if it’s a rejection or—”

“…You have shit taste in love interests, Deku.”

Izuku’s eyes widened at that. “W-What do you mean?”

Bakugou scoffed. “I treated you like shit for most of our lives. Hell, I told you to kill yourself back in middle school! Just because ‘I’ve changed’ a lot, as you put it, doesn’t make what I did right.”

Izuku looked down. “Who you were back then never mattered to me. What matters to me is who you are NOW!”

“Just what do you see in me, Deku?!” Bakugou shouted.

“You’re my best friend, and I care about you!” Izuku shouted back.

Bakugou recoiled, so Izuku continued. “You push me around, say all things unkind things to me, and never listen to what I want to say. But you also put yourself in harms way to protect others, even if it meant you might get injured. You’ve even protected me a few times, even when I didn’t need you to.”

“You idiot, that’s just what being a hero is.” Bakugou said, to which Izuku nodded in agreement.

“You’re right. But that’s what makes you MY hero. That’s what made me…f-fall in love with you.” Izuku’s eyes began to tear up. “And I promise to one day be YOUR hero, when you need it. You might get angry at me, but if it means that you come out of the fight alive, it will be worth it!”

Bakugou’s gaze softened, and he was having a difficult time on how to properly respond. “You always put yourself in a life-or-death situation to save people, Deku.”

Izuku’s body stiffened, which signaled to Bakugou that Izuku was well aware of that fact.

“Did you ever stop to think how those around you feel when you pull shit like that?” Bakugou’s voice was eerily soft, with no hint of anger. “How I would feel if you did that for me?”

Izuku’s gaze drooped a little. “I imagine you would be angry.”

“Angry, sure. But not angry at you for taking away my moment to shine.” That was the old him. “I’d be angry because you don’t think of the consequences. If you died to protect me, literally all of our classmates would be crying their fucking eyes out and I would have to deal with that.” Bakugou placed a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, which brought out a surprised reaction from the other man. “But I would also be sad to lose you.”

Izuku’s eyes widened.

Bakugou scratched the back of his neck. “I care about you more than I like to admit. And I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can answer your confession yet. I don’t think what I’m feeling towards you is love, but I definitely like you as more than a friend.” He couldn’t believe he just admitted that. “Sorry that I have to keep you waiting a little while longer.”

Izuku’s eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. “I-It’s alright, Kacchan. Just knowing that you like me in some form is good enough for me. I’ll continue to wait as long as I have to!”

Bakugou couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll try not to keep you waiting that long.”

Izuku smiled at him; it was that smile that convinced Bakugou that maybe he wouldn’t have to keep Izuku waiting after all.

The next day, Bakugou bought a small, slender vase to put the white spider lily in. He filled it with water and walked all the way to the hospital, going up to Izuku’s room in silence. As he entered, he noticed a pile of ‘get well’ cards on the table, along with a plate with a couple of apple slices still left on it. Their friends must’ve been here, as well as Izuku’s mother, he guessed. He cleaned a spot on the table and placed the spider lily on it, staring at it with scrutiny.

‘Is it bad luck to bring a flower like that to someone in the hospital?’ Bakugou thought but shook off that feeling.

“See, Deku, there’s a hell of a lot of people who miss you, so get better already.”

Bakugou observed Izuku’s peaceful expression. “It’s funny how you were the one waiting for me, and now I’m the one who has to wait for you. Piece of shit.” He said with slight affection. He glanced at the heart monitor, the only thing besides himself making any kind of noise. “Please get better. If you die, I won’t be able to tell you how I feel.”

He glanced at the spider lily again, as if searching for some sort of sign that All Might heard him back at the cemetery. He let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t believe in signs from beyond the grave or any of that reincarnation bullshit, but I’ll gladly believe anything if it means I get Deku back.”

He left the hospital earlier than usual, deciding that it was time he focused on hero work again. He’s sure that’s what Izuku would have wanted.

In the blink of an eye, summer turned to autumn, and autumn to winter. Bakugou hated the cold; how the fuck could he use his quirk if he couldn’t even work up a sweat? He was thankful that most of the villains who he’s had to deal with so far were small fry, not even worth using his full power.

He met up with Kirishima for a quick bite to eat, listening as Kirishima talked about this villain he took down earlier in the day.

“And get this, he was GIGANTIC! But also super slender so somehow he still managed to not be an easy target to hit.” Kirishima smirked. “But in the end, I got him! He tried to step on me a few times but my quirk was his worst enemy in that scenario. Almost a one-hit KO!”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “I say that villain was a straight-up idiot; it had nothing to do with you.”

“C’mon man, at least let me bask in the glow of my awesomeness for a few minutes before you take it away from me!” Kirishima laughed as he munched on his burger. “Any news on Midoriya’s condition?”

Bakugou stopped eat his own burger and set it down on the tray. “The doctors still aren’t sure how long it’ll take. Though they did say he’s finally stabilizing so it’s just a long waiting game now.”

“Hey, that’s great news!” Kirishima grinned. “So be honest. How many times have you visited him?”

Bakugou sent him a glare that could kill. Kirishima held his hands up. “No need to look at me like that, I’m well aware of your feelings for him.”

Something that Bakugou instantly regret confessing to his friend.

“I’m just worried about you, is all. Everyone is.” Kirishima said with a concerned expression. “Not even Uraraka and Iida visit Midoriya as much as you, and they were practically joined at the hip in high school.”

Bakugou sighed. “Uraraka and Iida were nice to him from the beginning, while I was nothing but an asshole to him from childhood until far into our first year. Even in our second year I was still standoffish towards him. I’m just making up for lost time, I guess.”

Kirishima nodded. “That’s real nice, man. And I’m sure Midoriya appreciates it.”

“How can he when he’s unconscious?”

“Dude, unconscious people can still hear voices outside their little world.” Kirishima pointed a fry in Bakugou’s direction. “That’s why they say it’s good to speak to comatose patients, because kind words might have a chance on them recovering faster.”

Bakugou scoffed. “You’ve watched too many movies.”

“It’s true!” Kirishima argued. “Just you watch, Midoriya will wake up before you know it.”

He visited Izuku again.

He softly caressed Izuku’s cheek and said a few nice words, before his eyes drifted towards the white spider lily.

He was shocked to see that not a single petal had yet to fall.

This villain was unlike anything he’d ever faced off before; not since his first year of high school when the League of Villains made their move. His quirk allowed him to steal other people’s quirks for a short time, while at the same time preventing the person from using their quirk while the effect was still in place. Even worse was that this villain could steal multiple quirks at once, so long as he was able to grab hold of a part of the person’s body for a few minutes without the contact breaking. He was careless, and the villain managed to hold onto his arm; he had to fight without his powers until the effect wore off.

“What happened to all that confidence at the beginning of this fight, Boy?” The villain taunted as he picked up Bakugou and flung him towards a building.

The impact caused Bakugou to hack up some blood, but thanks to his vitality and endurance, it didn’t instantly knock him out cold.

“I don’t need my quirk to beat the living shit out of you!” Bakugou grinned, although he knew that right now he was all talk.

The villain just laughed, and Bakugou instantly noticed the sparks coming from the villain’s hands. One massive explosion was being charged up, and he could feel his body being uncooperative.

‘Heh…this is just like last time, when Deku had to jump in and save me.’ Bakugou smirked to himself. ‘I refuse…to let that happen again!’

Through his sheer force of will, Bakugou managed to stand up, his legs shaking from the pain. “I’m a hero, and therefore I refuse to fall back down!”

The villain grinned and dashed towards Bakugou, the massive light of the explosion imminent. Bakugou was powerless, but he couldn’t give up. He would never forgive himself if he did that.

But the explosion never came. When the light died down, Bakugou could see that the villain’s hands were incased in ice.

“Made it just in time!” Kirishima became visible to his left. “You okay, Bakugou?!”

Bakugou was too shocked to respond.

“I’ll take that as a ‘maybe’!” Kirishima then looked to a spot behind the villain. “Nice job, Todoroki!”

Todoroki nodded. “Uraraka, you’re up.”

“Right!”

Bakugou watched as Uraraka touched the villain, rendering him weightless and allowing Kirishima to pin him down with no trouble.

“You think you’ve won, heroes?!” The villain sneered. “Just you wait, I’ll get my revenge on you yet. If I can render even the great Ground Zero useless, I can do so with all of you!”

Bakugou’s fists clenched. Useless. He hated being described by that word. He used to use it to describe Izuku all the time, and even though he still referred to him as ‘Deku’, it was used in a more affectionate tone as of late. But for him to be described as useless…that made him unimaginably angry.

“Haven’t you said enough? Just shut up already.”

Bakugou heard Todoroki say.

The villain laughed. “What was that? No one can silence me, not until I—”

And then, silence. Bakugou noticed the villain’s pupils were strangely out of focus, as if he was staring into space.

“Great job, Shinsou.”

Bakugou’s head turned to see Shinsou walking towards them, with that unique mask attached to his mouth.

“His gloating was giving me a headache.” Shinsou commented.

They all smiled gratefully at Shinsou with the exception of Bakugou, who looked like he was still in shock. Kirishima stayed behind to make sure Bakugou was alright, while the others went to turn the villain in. It was a long day for all of them, and Bakugou decided it would be best to just head back home, letting Kirishima know that he was fine.

Deep down, he was suffering. Instead of heading back to his apartment, he ended up in front of his parents’ house. His hand trembled as he reached for his key and opened the door, to which his mom looked at him from the kitchen.

“Wow, what a surprise! Look, Honey, our son decided to visit us for once!” As his mom got a closer look at her son, however, she could immediately tell that something was wrong. “Katsuki, is everything alright?”

Bakugou collapsed in her arms and held onto her, something he hadn’t done since he was a small child. He didn’t cry, but his trembling form was enough to get the message across. His mom held him tight on the hallway floor.

He’s never felt more useless in his life until now.

A few weeks later, he received a call that made his heart beat fast and his mind racing into overdrive.

It was from Uraraka.

“Deku is awake!”

He ran as fast as he could to the hospital, panting from near exhaustion as he made it up to Izuku’s room. No one else was there, and Bakugou hated thinking that they planned it so Bakugou could be alone with him. When he opened the door, he saw Izuku sitting up, staring at that stupid white spider lily that still had all its petals, with no hint of withering.

“D-Deku.”

Izuku turned his head and his eyes widened. “Kacchan…”

Bakugou hesitantly walked closer, taking in the fact that Izuku had far less tubes attached to him since the last time he was here. “You’re awake.” Fucking smooth, Katsuki.

Izuku let out a light chuckle. “Yeah, I woke up sometime this morning. The nurse heard me choking on the tube down my throat and well…here I am.” He smiled.

Bakugou had no idea how Izuku could be so cheerful after what had happened, but maybe that was for the better. When he noticed the other’s attention drift back to the flower, Bakugou scratched his head. “I uh…went to visit All Might’s grave and I found that growing next to it. I wasn’t sure if I should bring it to you, but I figured anything growing by All Might’s grave can’t be all bad.”

Izuku smiled softly. “Maybe All Might looked after me, and that’s why I’m still alive.”

At this point, Bakugou believed him.

“But you also helped too, Kacchan.”

“I didn’t do a damn thing except be the reason you were in this mess in the first place.”

Izuku shook his head. “I heard your voice while I was in a coma. It’s what gave me the strength to fight.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, and he bit his lip. “Fucking idiot.”

Before Izuku could respond, Bakugou pulled him into a hug. It was awkward as hell given that one of them was still lying on a hospital bed, but he didn’t care.

“Kacchan, what—”

“Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Izuku shut his mouth mid-sentence.

Bakugou’s voice was muffled by Izuku’s hair. “Stop treating your body like you’re expendable. There’s only one Deku…there’s only one Deku that I love, and he’s in a hospital bed because he decided to protect me from something that could have killed him! Didn’t I tell you once before not to do that?!”

Tears fell from Izuku’s eyes, and the motion of him wiping his face with his arm got Bakugou to pull away and look at him directly. “I love you, you fucking moron. And I’m not ready to lose you just yet, so don’t scare me like that again, got it?”

Izuku laughed through his tears and sniffles. “Got it…”

Bakugou smiled a bit and gave Izuku a quick, soft kiss. The instant blush on Izuku’s face was well worth it. “Hurry up and recover, alright? Fighting against villains isn’t the same without you by my side.”

Izuku held tightly onto Bakugou’s hand and nodded, both unaware that at that very moment, one petal finally fell from the white spider lily.

#bakudekuflowerexchange #bakudeku #bnha #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my writing

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the-truth-behind-redacted · 5 years

Text

Encounter and Brandishing

Dear Lockey, Entry 4

I have decided (partly because I don't really have answers and also because I'm grappling with an existential crisis) to quit speculating. The only way to gather more information is to live in the present and prepare for the future. For this, I began doing the things I should've done before I began wondering the purple walkway(s?) of eternity. That is getting versed with what I do have. The results were both extraordinary relieving, painfully disappointing, and bewilderingly frustrating at the same time.

The first thing I did was figure how to get the fucking armor off. Before trying this, however, I moved to a point where the paths various directions created a kind of really shitty pyramid. That's a really bad way to explain that. What I mean is that below the main path I'm walking is a set of other paths that, because of their angles on which they expand, a flat-ish expanse of land is created. I have noticed that there are paths now that completely intersect and form crossways but if I waited to get a formation like what I have now with them, I fear I might be too far in but I'll explain reasoning about that later.

Now that I was in a safe place where if I fall it most likely won't be straight into the abyss, I began trying to get it off. First I worked on getting the breastplate off as it restricted my waist movement quite a bit. I did the obvious thing first, searching for some kind of lock or clip on the breastplate that keeps it in place. Sadly, much to my own disappointment, there was no such thing. Seeing as it was completely solid as well, there wasn't going to be a way for me to somehow pull my arm inside and just take it off like a shirt. Actually, this brings me to something I should've pointed out by now.

This armor actually covers joint points or easy/fatal areas like the neck. These points have a much more flexible substance over them, that despite them being still quite clearly crystalline, allows for minorly impeded movement and extra protection. Honestly, this is just like Sci-fi bullshit to me but If it protects me, I guess I can't complain too much about that. That being said, this only makes it even harder to get off once it's on normally. With it covering every inch of me with no openings, or obvious mechanics to put on or off, how do I?

The answer to that is magic...LITERAL FUCKING MAGIC! To be open here, I eluded to the Red Man, as I'm going to be calling him (despite wearing black), using magic to deflect my gun's shots but I didn't exactly believe in it. It being a forgotten art was just me saying in a really prissy way that it was mythology. Something only found in storybooks, but I guess not! I was being facetious about this all being heaven, hell, purgatory but now that I know that magic is real, it might be true. Though as I said, I'm done with the speculation for now, and I don't want to really think about where my soul's going if I do die.

What I had to do was directly "will" it off. It wasn't just enough to want it off, I had to concentrate on its dematerialization. Summed up wonderfully by, I thought about it and it went poof. In a sudden instant, the armor let out a quick shine before disappearing completely. This was the first time I got a clear look at what I was wearing underneath. I don't exactly know what I was expecting to be underneath or if anything was underneath at all, but there is.

The first lair was a basic black hoodie. I took it off and looked at it and it had some kind of white flakes on the back. I assume this jacket had some brand name or logo on it that over time came off. Besides that, there isn't any kind of major identifier. Underneath I had a sports tank top and of course bra. Following the sports theme, I had on sports leggings all of which were black. Under my leggings were a pair of hot pink panties. Also, still a regular human which is oddly comforting to confirm. So if anyone is to find this book alone and find a body later on, you can identify me by clothing if I still have it, just don't look further creep.

Another important thing I needed to figure out is if I had some kind of direct weapon. After one happening this has become an increasingly important thing for me to have. Thankfully, since I now understand the armor, the secrets of this crystalline material was unlocked. Just as with taking on or off the armor, all I had to do was "will" my weapon to me. At first, it was a sword, which I'm not exactly adept with so I tried to change what it was and thankfully (and conveniently) it morphed into something a bit more conventional for me.

The energy that formed the sword separated then formed some kind of diagram around my hands. The diagram formed into a seal to sigil. Finally, it connected around my wrists with a quick glaze around my hand. Three diagrams then scanned over my hands and settled into position on my hands. The first and largest rested over my wrists. The second, smaller than the first, circled around my hands in the middle of my palms. The final and smallest hovered just in front of the tips of my index, middle, and ring finger.

How this weapon worked is unconventional to say the least. Obviously or maybe not, by how it looks, the attacks it's capable of being are very heavily ranged. It doesn't have any limitation on what kind of projectile it can produce. In messing around with it shortly I've managed to produce bow arrows, crossbow bolts, bullets, plasma blasts, and some weirder ones.

Depending on what I'm trying for the three diagrams will change. For a bow and arrow, the diagrams on my hand that holds handle move off and create the structure of a peculiar bow. The smallest acts like a crosshair, the middle one hovers over the string on where I'm meant to pull the bow and the largest like some kind of printer moves back and made the bow. Then I grab where I'm meant to draw the string and an equally weird arrow forms in place by the diagrams on my other hand. From there, it's like a regular bow. I aim, pull, and fire. Interestingly, while the speed on which the arrow fires is dependent on how far I draw back, drawing doesn't take any actual strength. I'll cover everything this weapon can do and how it works in its own extra entry.

Now another topic to move onto is, I've made quite a few mentions of, "if you are to find this book," and that's because I'm honestly not sure how likely it is that I'll make it out alive. The sounds of nightmarish creatures have only increased and I'm beginning to think I'm seeing them out on the horizon on other paths. Of course, just as I suspected, flying seems necessary to get around this place and almost all have had wings. Both interestingly and worrying, the only one I have seen directly is a creature on one of the other paths.

This happened on my way to find a safety net of paths to mess around with the armor. A path that nearly intersected into the path I'm walking upon further extension, to where mine and the other path were a distance apart, I saw a rather unpleasant creature. Just like everything else related to this place, the thing was purple but it was a much deeper and darker purple.

While the paths were a bright lavender and crystals a basic purple, the creature that I will call spider totem, Sp-tem for short, was a darker violet. While I call it a "spider" it actually had twelve legs. Ten really thick short legs were at its bottom and two very long legs extended from its shoulders. Each leg had some kind of stinger at their tips. I saw Sp-tem lift itself on the shoulder legs which showed the bulk of its body.

Once on the long legs, the body split revealing an eye. Unlike the monster in the Red Man's room which had a bastardized human eye, the Sp-tem's eye was very different. The sides of the eyes narrowed to a point. Moving inward the outline expanded outward a little bit before leveling out. Inside, near the corners of its eye, two dashes barely avoided collision with what seemed to be brackets. The brackets were the in-between points positioned about what the lines on a unit representing one third would be. The insides of the eyes had yet smaller brackets with the pupil at the very center of the eye.

The once legs positioned themselves into a hand. The fingers had the stinger points as fingernails, and all of which were the very same length. From the top and bottom of the core of which the eye centers tubings came forth. Flagella barely hung out the opening at the front of the tubes. As for the core, exoskeleton lining detailed the body. Lines of the exoskeleton bulged out creating a diamond form with the tubes being the top and bottom points. Rock grinder looking tentacles lined its sides and spun from time to time. Next to the points of its eye, two noticeable pores pulsated with some thick viscous solution oozing out.

The encountered ended favorably as it merely stared me down as I moved past. Once I was a distance away it moved back to its original form and quickly scuttled away. It was weird, to say the least, but at least it wasn't horrible like the Red Man's things. I wonder how the encounter would've gone if I was on the same path as it. At this point, I hadn't learned how my equipment worked and didn't have a weapon. With the tentacles, it had a range advantage and its weapons were quite brutal, to say the least.

The Sp-tem didn't have any way to vocalize as far as I could tell so I doubt that it was what was making all the noise. This did confirm a few things that I was thinking since I got in here. First, nothing in this place will be something I can traditionally identify. Second, I'm far from the only thing in this place. Third and finally, real danger is afoot. As I get further and further in, I won't be able to write entries as frequently or long especially if the flying ones catch onto my existence. The likelihood of finding highly intelligent life is also high, judging from the complexity of the organism I just witnessed.

Oh, maybe I should explain what exactly spiders are because some might not be familiar with mythology. Spiders are a type of creature that existed back with the Precursor Humans. Back before the Extinction hit, be it a war, sickness, or parasite, humans lived on a planet called Earth. Very similar to Gee-Gerotous, Earth was a naturally inhabitable planet with its own kind of creatures. Out of all these creatures, Spiders were some of the most troublesome.

Before the advent of their advanced technology, Humans held a natural kind of fear of spiders. A common structure of spiders was that they had eight hairy legs and eight eyes. Some had six eyes but that wasn't the norm. They had an exoskeleton for their body. Most were generally small and lived in the corner or dark places were they would create a natural trap called a "web." However, many had natural poisons strong enough to kill humans or horrendously harm them.

An interesting group of spiders to note were a kind called "tarantulas" known for being large. From what information we have left from those times some of these things got larger than humans. There were a documented few that got larger than the average household and required military action to kill due to their danger. Needless to say, these creatures weren't something you would want to encounter big or small. If that Sp-tem was somehow based on old-time spiders, I'm glad I only encountered one that was human-sized and not that of a house. Then again, I'm not sure how something that big would get around on these tiny paths. What if further in there a larger paths that allow something like that to move around? Suddenly, I hate this place even more. … Dear Locket, Entry 4 Addendum

If there is such a thing as a household-sized Sp-tem in this place I had best be familiar with my weapon and document my findings. I didn't quite complete the explanation of what my weapon quite looks like. While dormant the weapon looks nothing more than like my hands were polished. Activation is noticed by the appearance of the diagrams in their respective positions. The diagrams moved in response to how my hands are positioned allowing for many more options of attack than that of traditional weaponry I know such as bows, guns, blasters, or crossbows.

As an example of how the diagrams respond, if I hold my open palm forward, instead of encircling my hands the diagrams equal with themselves in the same vertical line creating a seal. From there, how I direct my hand leads to different magical attacks. If I quickly sling my arm back then quickly launch it forward again three saws will launch forward on different paths which dissipate after about fifty meters. If I do the same motion but add an upward launch right after opening my palm, this will make one large saw instead of three medium ones.

While I haven't tried any elaborate movements, once again abyss, but I plan to try nonconventional movements if I ever get to a safer position. However, conventional weapons don't quite have the same question of threat so I tried to get similar results as the bow and I was pleased greatly when I did. Starting off, there's a crossbow. In order to summon the crossbow, I must straighten up my arms and sperate my middle and ring finger from each other.

The smallest diagram at my tips is once again a crosshair. The medium diagram expands and creates the limbs, the two extensions at the front of a crossbow, with the string pulled back. The large diagram creates a structure around my arms the functions as the bulk of the crossbow. This being the flight groove, trigger, latch, arrow retention spring, barrel, and a few marks of the custom build by the magical nature of my weapon. A pair of goggles is also formed over my head that helps me judge where my bolts will hit due to the unorthodox nature of the crossbow.

Firing is weird and childish. I need cock-back my arm and push forward again. This method, however, makes this weapon very inaccurate because where I push my arms back forward is very rarely where I was originally aiming. While both cool and interesting, unless I'm fighting something that is an easy target I won't be hitting. Its range is very good though, easily going about one hundreds meters. For now, the simple bow and arrow are much more useful.

Next is guns. Guns are guns, and guns are cool. These guns are cooler. The first gun I tried was a simple handgun. By moving my hands into finger guns the large diagram quickly scans up my arms. This time the middle diagram created the main body with a thick metallic purple forming a trigger, handle, and barrel. The third diagram serves as the opening. Pulling the trigger lets out a fast burning purple pellet that combusts after a hard to judge distance.

That gun, however, isn't the only one I can make. If I hold my hands together and form and gun like that I get a drastically different result. The diagrams on both my hands merge together giving them much more energy to work with. First a barrel formes with some kind of compact front. From the bulk at the end of the barrel loose streams of energy leaks from them. The handle is made with the merged center diagrams. As a simple body is made, an elaborate scope is made starting with feathered wings attached at the back of the barrel.

A swirling diagram quickly spins with runic lettering inside. The wings expand revealing the sight then the bulk at the end of the barrel opens. The bulk is revealed to be what seems to be two small energy concentrator and four mini mini-guns. A simple pull of the trigger will let go a burst fire shooting three regular sized bullets, two small blasts of explosive energy, and a stream of many small pellets. The cock-back, however, is very rough with this thing and unbalanced me. Seeing what just one pull did though gives me hope about this thing but's that not all.

There is another variation of gun I've managed to summon with this thing that is some kind of automatic looking thing. Unlike the rest, this had a defined weight to it, at about fifty pounds. This was kinda surprising to me at first because nothing else so far, besides I guess the recoil from the previous guns, weighted anything. This did make kind of warry of the power this gun with release.

and those seem to be an automatic rifle (I'm not sure of build), and some kind of heavy anti-artillery launcher. Both of these weapons had noticeable weight. So far, these are the only things that have caused any form of strain against me. This wasn't light strain either. The automatic weapon weighted at least a good fifty pounds and the HAAL was around seventy or eighty. While it wasn't anything I couldn't lift, they weren't exactly something I can move with.

Now on to how the auto worked. I positioned my hands as if I was holding a rifle with my right hand out hold the foregrip with my left hand for the grip. The stock was one of the first things to form with my left-hand wrist diagram quickly creating. With light adjusting, I pocketed it into my shoulder. Its body was created with both palm digarmas meeting together. On its sides, crystalline metal strips that covered an energy core with streams of energy spinning around it seemed to be breathing. The three strips would lightly move closer to the body, coming together like a single strip only to move outward and extend out like wings.

Two great crystals were locked at the top and bottom of the body running the length of the gun. The barrel of the gun was an assort of interlocked metallic pieces that, as soon as the gun began charging would transform. Three great plates in triangular coordination get to pull up, back, then lock. Then, where the new spaces are left by the out pulling parts, the in-between parts separate and form an energy loop spinning violently. The breathing wings and now forever out as mist pours from the core.

The two crystal at the top and bottom are then pulled in and judging from the horrendous sound shattered and ground. Two extensions similar to what was on the two hand handgun formation unlocked. I took in a deep breath, balanced myself, and fired. The two extensions at the very end of the barrel began spinning violently. Great blasts of plasma quickly expanding as the ground crystals were fired by extensions. I tried taking my finger from the trigger to give the gun a rest but the strength it was pushing at my body my jerking kept hitting the trigger making it go off for a few more shots.

To stop I had to relinquish the form. As the gun dissipated and the diagrams went around my hands a hellish pulse of energy surged through my body. It felt like I was being burnt alive. Molten iron pulsing through my veins. The pain made me collapse on to the path. Slowly my body cooled off but it may be a few minutes for it to end. I was trembling uncontrollably after that and I never wanted to experience that again. It was far worse than what the Red Man did to me before I blacked out. I can only guess the heat of the gun was transferred into my body showing the first cost of using these weapons.

#Update #Purple #Story Tag: New born Essence #Story Tag: Beginnings of Rapture #Story Tag: Locket account #Time tag: Uncertain #Area Tag: ?!?#Chapter 1: You were better off not knowing #The casting wires #Echo Echo #Am I who I think I am #Understanding Chaos #Birthing Chaos #Life Passage

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hazandholland · 6 years

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Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

Written by Christina

Category: Flangst? Fluffy Angst? Angsty fluff? Whatever you might cry from happiness or pain. Or both. Who knows.

Word count: 5,761… I think this is my longest one. Idk I went kind of crazy

Request: “Hi can I please have a Peter Parker imagine where it takes place during the civil war battle and the reader gets crushed or drowned. And when she wakes up in the hospital peter confesses his love and kiss and then a shit ton of fluff” by @anntol2001

Warning: Mention of blood, injuries, hospital stay, medical terms, bullying. If I missed anything else, please let me know. This is an intense one, and I don’t want to trigger or scare anyone.

A/N: This is such a long and intense fic, you guys. I also did some quick research on comas and the medical terms that went with them. But don’t worry if you don’t understand them; you can understand the fic without the terminology. I hope you enjoy the fic, though!

You ducked behind the large black cargo box as a loud explosion boomed above your head, the shock wave rattling your bones and pushing your hair over your face, covering your eye. You blew the strand out of way and stood up, grabbing one of the stun disks from your belt. You engineered them, with help from Tony and Bruce so you could disable the enemy without causing major harm, only sore muscles and maybe a moderate headache when the effect wore off. You saw Hawkeye about ten feet in front of you, launching arrows every which way, protecting a giant Scott Lang, who was battling Peter and Tony. You crossed the fingers on your empty hand as you aimed and chucked the disk at Hawkeye, aka Clint Barton. The archer saw the disk coming as it reflected a beam of sunlight directly into his eye. With his nearly inhuman speed, he fitted an arrow into his bow and launched it at the disk, shattering it. The disk exploded into a small plume of smoke and bolts of electricity.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” you groaned as Clint made eye contact with you and smirked. You barely had time to duck behind the box again he launched a stun arrow of his own. Thankfully, you had slipped out of its range in time and the arrow collided with another box in front of you. You knew Clint was going to come face you hand-to-hand since he knew your position so you bolted up and sprinted across the debris-littered airport, ducking behind a crumbled part of an airplane wing. You loved being in the heat of a good superhero battle as much as the next teenager, but you didn’t like the fact that it was because Tony and Steve couldn’t resolve their issues. They just needed to kiss and make up. Speaking of kissing, your mind floated to Peter and you hoped he was doing all right. You popped your head out from behind your cover, looking for his new blue and red suit.

You had known Peter basically your whole life. Not that you were friends since you could walk or anything. You two didn’t become friends until middle school when Flash Thompson snatched Peter’s glasses off his face and broke them. You were a few lockers down, debating on stepping in when Flash proceeded to push poor Peter into the nearest locker. You had enough and you gave Flash an earful. You didn’t want to physically fight him, but you would if you had to. Flash started to try and shove into the locker next to Peter when you managed to give Flash a split lip and a beautiful black eye. Your parents insisted you take self-defense classes when you started to ride the subway on your own to school, so a basic jab with your non-dominant hand and a hook with your dominant fist was natural. Ever since that day, you and Peter became friends and protected each other ever since.

You had been interning at Stark Tower for about six months, so you already knew Tony. He let you tag along in the labs, conduct experiments, and supply ideas. Occasionally, Tony and Bruce let you help manufacture new less-lethal weapons for combat. When you found out Peter had his “Stark Internship”, you asked to meet up at Stark Tower sometime during one of your breaks to say hi. You weren’t expecting him to literally swing by in his Spider-Man suit, but hey, it added to his character. And that was one more reason to be protective of the boy.

So, naturally, when Tony Stark showed up randomly in Peter’s apartment the other day after school and asked if he wanted to join his team to help with the whole Steve situation, Tony invited you too. Well, it was more like you said you were going, and Tony didn’t exactly say no to you tagging along. You wanted to look out for Peter, after all. Peter had numerous protests, but you didn’t need him to look after you.

Your protective instincts took over when you saw Peter launch a web around giant Scott’s legs and began to rotate Scott’s knees, making him falter. Tony and Rhodes flew by and landed powerful uppercuts to Scott’s chin, making the giant fall. Peter whooped and hollered in triumph. Until one of Scott’s hands, flailing about, hit Peter, sending the boy flying. You gasped as you saw Peter tumble over an airplane and out of sight, followed by a series of thuds and crashes. You stood in shock for a few seconds, your heart stopping and all the air escaping your lungs. As if there was a switch in your body, your legs behind to move, making you sprint as fast as you could towards Peter’s direction. You searched behind the black cargo boxes, scanning for Peter.

“Peter,” You whispered, tears building in your eyes, blurring your vision. You look around frantically, spinning in circles.

“Peter!” You said a little louder, not caring that you were saying his real name. You were too concerned for him. He wasn’t Spider-Man, the wall-crawler from New York City. He was Peter Parker, the little boy with the glasses two sizes too big, the teenager with the brain that can understand calculus and quantum mechanics better than the teacher, the boy with the nerdy jokes and the nervous stutter. He was your Peter Parker. And he was hurt. Tears fell down your cheeks as you ran more, looking behind the boxes.

Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

You found him after looking behind at least six boxes. His legs were sticking out from behind one of the cargo boxes. You sprinted faster than you ever have before towards him. Your legs got tangled up with each other and you fell. You felt something hit your jaw and your momentum made you skid across the rough concrete. You felt like your palms had witnessed a few swipes of sandpaper across them and your jaw stung a little, but you didn’t think about them as you looked at the limp boy beside you.

Peter was laying on his side, his arms slightly curled around himself. His mask had ridden up his face, revealing his cheek and part of his eye, nose, and mouth. He was motionless. Your mind was reeling so fast and your heart was pounding so fast that you couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. You gulped. You needed to know if he was alive. Of course he was alive. He was just hurt. More tears fell down your face. Peter was hurt. You gathered up your courage and hesitantly reached your hand out, gently touching his shoulder, bracing yourself to roll him over.

Anybody but Peter. Not Peter.

As soon as your fingers grazed his shoulder, he lurched up, flailing his arms about, trying to slap his attacker as his legs tried to get him as far away from you as possible.

“No no no no no! Get away from me!” Peter yelled, managing to push you, making you land on your rear.

“Peter! It’s me, you dummy! It’s me! Y/N!” You said loudly, looking at the frantic boy. He froze as soon as he heard your name. He scrambled to his knees and ripped his mask off. His gorgeous curly hair tumbled around his face as he stared at you, wide-eyed. His pink lips were parted as he panted and his pupils were dilated from fear. You sat still, breathing hard yourself as you took him in. His suit was intact; no tears or rips. He had a bruise forming on his eye, but other than that, he appeared to be in one piece. You sighed in relief. Your Peter was safe.

“Y/N,” Peter breathed, his eyes softening. Well, as soft as they could get with the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. He scooted over to you. He towered over you slightly, with him on his knees and you sitting down. He reached a gloved hand out and rested it on your neck, thumb grazing your jaw as he smiled and breathed out a sigh of relief. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. You blinked, trying to shove the thoughts out of your head. You’re just Peter’s friend, right?

“You’re here.” He said softly, looking at you with wonder. You felt your cheeks heat up and you knew they were as bright as cherries. You looked away, not wanting to leave his touch totally. Peter began to run his hands over the rest of your neck, over your scalp, shoulders and down your arms to your hands. Your heart pounded at his gentle, loving touch. The most you and Peter ever did was the occasional hug after an emotional or mental breakdown and daily high-fives. This was completely different and you didn’t want it to end. You closed your eyes, savoring his tough.

“Hey, you’re bleeding,” Peter said, fear rising in his voice. You opened your eyes, feeling your brow crinkle as you reached your own hand up and ran it along your jawline. Your fingers felt broken skin and fire shot through your jaw. You hissed and retracted your hand. You looked the boy again. You watched his face show shock, concern, fear, and anger within a short second. His jaw clenched and he looked you deep in the eyes as he gripped your shoulders, painfully tight.

“What happened? Who did this? Are you hurt anywhere else? What happened?” Peter’s rapid-fire questions made your brain overload; you’ve never seen Peter like this. He was always gentle with you. He knew how strong he was, so he rarely laid a hand on you to avoid any catastrophes. His grip on your shoulders made you wince and your eyes widen.

“I tripped,” You whispered, staring at the boy, wide-eyed. “I was running and I…Can you let me go?…” Peter released your arms and rested them on his knees, his expression not changing.

“Are you hurt anywhere else,” Peter said shortly. You knew it was a question but his voice was so dark it didn’t sound like one. You shook your head, looking at the ground. The sound of Tony’s Iron Man suit clanking against the ground as he landed broke the moment between the two of you. The billionaire’s mask and helmet were off, revealing a bloody and concerned face.

“Kid,” Tony breathed, fear evident in his voice. “You alright?”

Peter nodded, his previous anger gone. His shoulders dropped and he was the awkward, shy boy you knew. “Y-y-y-yeah, I’m f-fine, Mr. Stark.” Tony let out a little sigh of relief. When he saw you sitting on the ground next to Peter, Tony’s eyes darted between Peter and you. You gulped and felt the heat rise to your cheeks again. Tony smirked a little before his helmet and mask clicked back into place.

“You’re out, kid,” Tony said, nodding towards Peter. His voice was a little echoey because of the suit. He fired up his arc reactors and he started to hover a few feet above the ground. “Meet you at the hotel. Don’t leave till I get back.” With that, Tony flew off towards the battle. Peter raised his hand and shouted after Tony.

“Hey, hey I’m fine! I can-” He tried to get up, but he groaned and gripped his stomach, falling over. “Okay nevermind, I’ll stay here.” You giggled and leaned forward to see the battle. Scott was normal size, but sitting on the stairs of the private jet eating something. Nat and Clint were sparring on the other side of the jet. Tony, Rhodes, and Falcon were dive-bombing each other in the sky. Steve and Bucky were hiding behind some cargo crates about a hundred yards from you and Peter. You could see by the way their bodies were angled that they were trying to get to the hanger bay. You sighed, then stood up. You rolled your shoulders and neck, getting all your muscles loose. You should help stop them.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Peter said, darting to his feet and grabbing your arm. He groaned a little and stumbled, almost pulling you to the ground. You gasped and somehow managed to wrap your arms around Peter, keeping him upright. His face was contorted a little in pain as he looked at you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You let out a little sigh, the shock and fear wearing off. You felt ready to jump back into the fight. Peter was all right, and that was all that mattered.

“Back to the fight, silly,” You said. Peter’s eyes widened and he grabbed your shoulders.

“No! You’re not going back there! You could barely even walk or whatever without getting hurt. You’re not jumping into a fight with superheroes!” Peter protested, his grip on you tightening. You bit back a groan and crouched down, letting Peter sit on the ground.

“Yeah, I’m going back into the fight. A few scrapes won’t stop me, Parker,” You said, a little irritated.

“You’re not going,” Peter said, staring you with his jaw set again. You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh really?” You taunted, feeling a smirk tug on your lips. “Try and stop me.” You rolled backward, executing a reverse somersault and jumped onto your feet, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears while you started running towards the fight. “See ya, Parker!” As you darted between the boxes, you heard Peter yelling for you. The boy was sweet, but he didn’t need to look after you all the time. You could handle yourself. You scanned for Steve and Bucky as you ran. You saw them about thirty feet from you. You grabbed a couple of the stun disks from your belt and let out a deep breath as you stopped, held your arms back then launched them forward, spinning the disks in one smooth motion. Each disk hurtled toward Steve and Bucky. Unfortunately, Steve saw the disks coming and threw his shield over him and Bucky.

Thank goodness Steve’s shield was metal. Metal was an excellent conductor. The electricity from the stun disks spread across the shield in arching blue and white bolts. Steve grunted and his legs crumbled, making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You heard Bucky shout as he crouched next to his comrade. Steve twitched as the electricity coursed through him, until the disk did its job and left Steve on the ground, motionless.

You started sprinting to them, hoping you could catch them off guard enough to get a few punches in. You were about ten feet away when you grabbed another disk and launched it at Bucky. The super soldier saw it coming though and dodged out of the way. You let your momentum help you out as you jumped, leaping over Steve and threw a leg out, aiming for Bucky’s sternum. The soldier dodged again and your feet collided with the cargo crate. Pain rattled through your leg as you grunted, landing on the balls of your feet, fists up, ready to face Bucky.

He was a few yards away from you, on the balls of his feet but hands at his sides. You knew he wouldn’t try very hard. He had no problems fighting a woman if need be, but he did have problems with fighting too hard and almost killing someone. That was what he was trained for. You were trained to stun and immobilize, but Bucky was trained to kill. At least you had that knowledge on your side as you circled Bucky, trying to back him into a corner.

“Y/N,” Bucky said, holding his hands out a little as he rotated with you, backing away. His back was to the corner, but there was still a lot of side room for him to escape. You need him back farther. You started stalking forward, reaching a hand down to grab your stun disks. Maybe if you hit his animatronic arm…

You didn’t even think to double-check that Steve was unconscious. The thought never crossed your mind as you felt something hard collide into your back, sending you tumbling forward. You shrieked a little as you skid, your already scraped palms grating against the concrete again. You landed on your back and as you rolled onto your side, you saw two streaks of blood from where your hands hit the ground to where they were now. You groaned and slowly stood up. Steve and Bucky were nowhere to be seen. You crinkled your brow in confusion as you looked around, searching for them. You spotted them; about a hundred yards from you, sprinting towards the hanger bay. You starting jogging towards them, the motion jarring your sore leg and now your sensitive back. You bit back a groan and pushed into a sprint. You heard whooshing overhead and saw Tony still battling Sam. You glanced at where Clint and T’Challa were dueling. Wanda and Vision were having a showdown. Peter was down for the rest of the fight, and you knew Nat was hiding somewhere, so it looked like it was just you.

Well, at least Peter’s not in this situation.

You sprinted as fast as you could, trying to catch the two super soldiers. No one had noticed that they were heading to the hanger bay and they were just jogging, so you were fairly close to them in a reasonable amount of time. You were nearly out of breath as you reached for two more stun disks in your fists, trying to figure out where you want them to go down. You decided right before the hanger bay was good, so you launched both disks at the soldiers.

You missed. You simply missed.

Steve and Bucky wheeled around, skidding to a stop as they saw you sprinting towards, red-faced with fatigue and embarrassment. You had to miss. The two men turned on their heels and sprinted towards the hangar bay. You saw a quinjet sitting in the middle of the bay, unguarded and ready for takeoff. You knew you weren’t going to catch them on your own. You needed help.

“Tony!” You yelled at the top of your lungs. “Hanger bay! Now!” You glanced up when you heard Tony fly over to you, straight for Steve and Bucky, who were now running as fast as they could. You saw Sam swoop down in Tony’s blind spot and before you could warn Tony, Sam collapsed his wings and collided with Tony, slide-tackling him away from Steve and Bucky.

“Vision!” You screamed. “Help!” You looked for the red-skinned robot-human thing in the sky and found him floating by the control tower. You looked at the angles. If Vision took down the tower soon, it could trap Steve and Bucky. You skipped to a stop about one hundred feet away from the hangar bay. Steve and Bucky were about thirty feet away. “Take the tower down!” You ordered, pointing at the building. “Take it down! They’re under it!” You hoped that that wasn’t too drastic of a move. They could most likely dodge the debris, but then they would either be trapped in the bay or outside it, unable to get to their getaway jet. You saw Vision shoot a yellow energy beam out from his forehead, slicing the tower in half. The tower crumbled, showering Steve and Bucky with rocks and dust. The two soldiers slowed down slightly, debating on whether to keep going to turn around. But before the whole building could fall, a red energy field wrapped around the tower, suspending it in mid-air. You groaned. Are you kidding me?! You glared at Wanda, who was straining to keep the tower up. Steve and Bucky began to run under the tower. You started sprinting after them. You hoped Wanda could keep the tower up long enough for you to get to the hangar. You two were friends. She wouldn’t let a freaking tower fall on you.

“Tony, let Wanda keep the tower up!” You shouted to Tony, who was still dueling with Sam. “I’m going in!” Steve and Bucky made it under the tower’s path just as you were underneath it. The sudden shift from light to dark made you temporarily blind, but you kept running, knowing your eyes would adjust soon.

“Rhodey!” You heard Tony scream. “Stop! No!” You looked up. Tony never screamed. You heard a weird sound, almost like one of those boards that when you shook it, it made a weird rumbling sound. You looked up. The red field around the tower was gone.

All was black.

Two days later

The doctors had spouted a ton of medical terms, which Peter memorized to monitor your status himself and to pass the time: Your heart was working at a steady rate of 68 bpm. Your coma status wasn’t super great, GCS 5 = E1 V2 M2, meaning you had no eye movement, you mumbled and moaned occasionally, as well as respond to external pain. A score below 8 on the GCS scale meant it was a severe coma. There was no certainty on when, or if, you would wake up. The debris from the tower hit your head hard, and the rest of the damage to your body, from the kick to the cargo box, the blood loss from the scrapes and, obviously, the tower falling on you made your body go into ultimate survival mode. It needed to replenish all the red blood cells, white blood cells, good bacteria, develop scar tissue for your cuts and make cartilage and bone for the hairline fractures that littered your body.

Peter stayed by your side ever since he saw the tower fall and heard Tony scream your name. He also hadn’t slept in nearly two days. He sat beside your hospital bed, chin resting on his crossed hands as he stared at the monitors. Peter hated seeing you like this. You just laid on your back, tubes and apparatuses hooked up to your body. He just wanted to wake up and be better. He hated being in the hospital.

Peter also hated seeing the doctors come in to check on you. They were polite, but he could tell they didn’t care about you as much as he and the other Avengers did. Steve even mailed a get well card and the biggest bouquet of roses and Bucky sent a bear and a box of chocolates when they heard what happened. They’re old-fashioned guys, so they stuck with the classic gifts. Tony booked you at the most advanced brain trauma hospital in the world and agreed to cover any and all costs associated with the accident.

He also managed to pull some strings with General Ross at the Raft to let the other heroes send you things: Sam sent a collection of funny movies and CDs. He said you needed to laugh and be ‘finally have a good taste in music’. Wanda sent natural oils to help relieve tension, muscle aches, and headaches, as well as high-quality tea and honey after you woke up. She said you could have really bad aches everywhere, and you often drank tea when you were stressed. Clint sent you a wood target painted in your favorite color, stating that you needed to work on your aim. Rhodes felt the worst out of all the heroes, especially since he was the one who stunned Wanda, resulting in the tower collapsing on you. Unfortunately, with his recent paralysis, he wasn’t able to afford any elaborate or materialistic gifts. He said he would show his sympathy and apologies with acts of service, like running to the store for you, making you breakfast and getting you anything you needed around the tower. Peter and Tony protested against Rhodes to do all that since he could barely walk. The Air Force guy simply waved them off and said he’ll consider it physical therapy.

Peter couldn’t afford any special gifts either, even with the help of Aunt May. She sent you a small bottle of scented lotion and a handmade get well card with a long, sweet note about how amazing you were. May told Peter not to read it, but he did anyway. He’d spend forty-eight hours in a room with a comatose person, so he did get kind of bored sometimes. Peter managed to scrounge around his bedroom and find his piggy bank and collected all $15.00 of dimes, nickels, and pennies to buy you gift cards for your favorite bookstore and cafe. It was incredibly small compared to the others’ gifts, but it was all he had. He wished he could give you more. You were his Y/N. And you were hurt. He wished he could do more.

You moaned quietly again. Peter felt tears well up in his eyes when you went silent again. You mumbled randomly. At first, Peter thought it was a good thing, thinking you were close to waking up. But the doctors said it was just showing you had a tiny bit of brain activity, enough to produce small sounds. They had no rhyme or reason to them. It was just the brain showing that it kind of worked. Now, the sounds just make his heartbreak. He slid out of the chair to kneel beside your bed. He gripped your cold, dry hand. He stood up and went to the table with all your gifts and grabbed the lotion Aunt May gave you. She said it helps with dry skin. He went back to your bedside and opened the bottle. He squeezed some onto your hand. He stopped when he realized he had no idea how much to put on. He tried to remember if he’d seen May wear any of the stuff. He racked his brain, but couldn’t find any recollection of seeing May apply lotion.

He licked his lips and decided to put some more on. It was better to have too much than not enough, right? He was pleased when the blob of lotion nearly covered the back of your hand. He began to work the goop into your skin. It took longer than he thought to get all the lotion incorporated into your skin, but when he was done, he repeated the process on your other hand and on your feet. He applied three times more lotion on your feet since they were bigger than your hands, and he knew you never let him give you a foot massage when you were awake since you were ticklish. Part of him expected you to wake up shriek at him to stop, your limbs flailing about as you tried to get away from him. He smiled a little at the memory. When he was done with the lotion, half the small bottle was gone. He put it back near the rest of the gifts and returned to his knees by your bedside. He gripped your considerably softer but still cold hand in his own. The scent of the lotion wafted to his nose as he pressed his lips against your hand. Man, that lotion must be really good, Peter thought. His lips were softer after just that one kiss on them. He wiped his other hand across his mouth and sighed.

“Gosh darn it, Y/N,” Peter whispered, looking at your sickly face. It was so pale and damp with sweat. He felt tears fall down his cheeks as he took in a shaky breath. “Just wake up would you?” He couldn’t hold back his sobs anymore as his heart was ripped into piece into piece, gripping your hand tightly in his. “Just wake up, sweetheart.” He panted a little as he braced himself for what he wanted to say next.

“I love you, okay? Y/N, I love you.” He stared at you, that stupid optimistic part of him expecting you to open your eyes and say something like “well duh, Parker. Everyone loves me.” But you didn’t. Your heartbeat didn’t change, your breathing was consistent, and your body remained motionless. He choked on another sob as he buried his head in your side. “Please, wake up, love. Just wake up.”

Three days later

“FIVE DAYS,” You shouted, making your throat and head rip in half. You grunted and coughed incessantly. Apparently not talking for five days made your throat incredibly sensitive. When you recovered, you were met with Peter gripping your hand in his and staring at you with those dumb, adorable and sad puppy dog eyes. “Peter, stop looking at me like that,” You growled. You were getting kind of fed up with all those sad looks he kept giving you. You didn’t mind him being there, you didn’t want a pity party. And you didn’t want to have to fight tears every time you looked at him because he looked like this whole thing was somehow his fault.

“Yeah, five days,” Tony repeated. The billionaire stood at the foot of the hospital bed, leaning nonchalantly against the plastic frame. “Doc says you should be fine in about a month, so - Oh don’t give me that look, Y/N. Yeah, I’m not happy about this either but you need to rest, kid. The more you rest, sooner you can get into the field.” After that, Tony slipped his expensive sunglasses on and strutted out the door. Right before the heavy door closed, you heard a nurse nervously ask for his autograph and Tony’s smooth chuckle as he agreed.

“Peter,” You said, feeling a question rise in your head.

“Yeah, Y/N?” Peter answered, his face showing gentle eagerness. You opened your mouth, but you realized you had no idea what to say. Well, you did, but you couldn’t. You wracked your brain, searching for your question. It was there, but you couldn’t grasp it. You groaned and slammed a sore hand into the mattress, frustrated that you couldn’t even remember a question you wanted to ask.

“Hey hey hey,” Peter said softly, moving from the chair to kneel by your bedside and resting his hand on your knee gently. “It’s okay. Don’t push too hard, okay? You’ll get better. It’ll just take time.”

You sighed and rested your head against the mountain of pillows that supported you. Thankfully, you were healthy enough to not need half the tubes that were connected when you were first admitted. You were a little frazzled, with a brain injury and simply over the whole ordeal. You glanced at Peter, hoping he would have a dumb science joke or something, anything to cheer you up like he always did. When your eyes met, you could tell by the gleam in his teary eyes that he had some new ones for you.

“Did you hear oxygen went on a date with potassium?” Peter asked, fighting a massive grin. You giggled and shook your head, raising a hand to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“Oh well… It was OK,” Peter said before he chuckled, eyes crinkling and smile wide. You couldn’t help but laugh at him. After a few moments of laughter, Peter held up a hand to silence you.

“Okay, word of advice,” He said, looking at you deep in the eyes. You could tell he wasn’t going to make a joke this time, so you refrained from a snarky remark.

“Yeah?” You said, concerned as to why he looked so intensely at you.

“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate.”

“Oh my gosh, Peter I swear-” You groaned before you let out another bout of laughter. You and Peter laughed so hard your stomachs hurt and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Eventually, you guys calmed down and spent a few moments catching your breath.

“Y/N,” Peter said, scooting from the floor to sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Peter, if you tell me one more lame science joke, I’ll punch you so hard you’ll be next door,” You threatened, a little smirk on your lips. You braced yourself for another corny joke, but one didn’t come. Peter just sat there, staring at you. His eyes were the softest, richest warm brown. His hair was tousled and curled at the ends, not styled at all, like how he normally had it. He was wearing a plain grey t-shirt, not a nerdy science shirt and his navy blue hoodie you always tried to steal. He wore the same jeans, though, the ones with the faded dark wash from wear and the hole in the back right pocket from where he shoved the apartment keys. Not that you took a habit of staring at his backside or anything. You also definitely did not notice how the shirt he was wearing now was more fitted than other shirts he wore, so it hugged his frame quite nicely. And you most definitely were not distracted by his gorgeous figure when you felt his gentle hands tilt your chin upward. Before you could totally register was going on, Peter pressed his lips against yours.

Yes, Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, was kissing you. And boy, was it good. He shifted his hand from your chin to your cheek, gently kissing you again as he planted his other hand on your other side, towering over you. You kissed him back and traced your fingers up his arm to his neck before gently tangling your fingers in those gorgeous tousles curls of his. Peter let out a little sound and dropped his hand to your waist, pulling you as close as he could to you. How long you two stayed like that, you didn’t know. It could have been three seconds or three minutes, you had no clue.

You finally pulled away to catch your breath. Peter kept his forehead resting on yours, his lips parted as he recovered his breath too, his eyes closed. His hand on your waist slid to the middle of your back, holding you close. He buried his head in your neck and breathed you in, his warm breath tickling you. Suddenly, you remembered something incredibly important.

“Peter” You gasped, pushing away so you could look at him. The boy looked shocked and horrified.

“W-w-what? D-d-did I do something wr-wrong?” He stuttered, eyes wide as saucers. You shook your head and asked your crucial question.

“Why are my hands and feet so greasy?” You asked urgently.

Tag List @resident-book-nerd @animeroses318 @unicornspiderman @bedemoned @hobbitsofmyheart @just—love @superfrankie111 @laura2280 @tmrhollandkay @princeofsassgard @themortallife @143amberrose @silverelvenart @notevenagoodgirl @weasleytheking @theonlyonelives @camila1818 @captainpeggy40 @maraudersgallifreyanavenger

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