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freddiesaysalright · 5 years

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Blessed Part 5

The Peace Like a River Sequel

Summary: Gwilym and Y/N are married. Violet is six years old. Baby number two is on the way. There are still some shadows that plague Y/N in her marriage to Gwil, and Violet is suddenly resentful of her parents. The Lee family tries to stick together.

Word Count: 3.2k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @simmisblog, @assembledherethevolunteers, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @readinghorn, @riddikuluslypotter, @doingalrightt, @misslolasworld, @lemurian-starship, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80, @imgonnabeyourslave, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @ixchel-9275, @sincerelygmg, @lv7867, @unicorn-princess-1999, @delilahmay39, @chlobo6, @dragon-out-of-water, @radio-hoo-ha, @agentmalfoy24601, @thigh-your-mother-down, @im-an-adult-ish, @anotherhystericalqueen, @anincurablefangirl

A/N: The finale! Time for baby Sybil! Thanks again for coming on this journey with me and showing this fic some love. I hope you have all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! There’s no epilogue for this one since it’s a mini-series, and I’m satisfied with this ending :)

Haven’t read Peace Like a River? Start here!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 here we go!!!

Gwilym stirred awake after hearing a loud groan beside him. It was pained, but swift, as if you were trying to keep yourself quiet. When he registered it was you, his eyes snapped open. He whipped around to look at you and he heard you wince with the movement of the bed.

“Y/N?!” he gasped.

You were drenched in sweat. Your forehead gleamed with it under the moonlight coming through the window. Your hair was plastered to your face and neck. Your hands had death grips on the comforter, which was also stained with sweat. You were biting your lip hard enough to draw blood and tears were streaming down your cheeks. Even in the low light, he could see your face was red with the strain.

“It started about three hours ago,” you panted.

“Are you -”

He cut himself short, getting to his knees and gently prying the comforter out of your hands and away from you. He saw the dark stain between your legs from where your water must have broken. He looked up at you, astonished.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he wondered, scrambling out of bed. He flicked on the light and started putting on his jeans. “Christ, Y/N, we should have been at the hospital hours ago!”

Your lip trembled and fresh tears spilled down your face.

“I’m sorry, Gwil,” you whimpered. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

“Oh, darling,” he sighed, and walked over to your side of the bed to kneel next to you. “I’m not angry. I’m just worried about you.”

You nodded.

“I was just scared, I’m sorry,” you said again.

He cupped your face, a gentle smile on his lips. But his brow quickly furrowed at the heat of your skin.

“You’re burning up,” he said.

“I might have a low grade fever,” you told him. “I think that’s pretty common.”

“Mhm,” he replied with a nod. He looked hard at you. “You alright while I put a shirt on?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sorry.”

He just kissed your forehead before finishing getting dressed. Once he was squared away, he went to you, helping you get on fresh underwear and a loose dress to wear to the hospital.

“How far apart are the contractions, darling?” he asked.

“I dunno, maybe eight minutes or so,” you guessed. “Sorry about the sheets.”

“Y/N,” he said, taking your hands. “Please stop apologizing. You aren’t putting me out. You’ve done nothing wrong. You are having my child, and I could never, ever think that some linens are more important than that.”

More hot tears ran down your cheeks.

“Yeah,” you said weakly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he returned warmly. “You and Violet and Sybil are everything to me, okay?”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Hold tight,” he said. “I’m going to wake Violet and we’ll all head to the hospital.”

You nodded. Suddenly, a contraction hit, and you bit down on your lip again, sucking in a sharp breath. Gwilym stopped and came over to you.

“Gwil,” you choked out. “Hold my hand.”

He grasped your fingers and you held on tight as the pain overtook you.

“Yell if you need to, darling,” he said, using his free hand to push your hair back off your forehead.

You shook your head, releasing your breath as the contraction passed. You relaxed again.

“Go ahead and get Violet,” you said, panting. “I’ll be right here.”

His eyes roved over your face, searching for any indication that you might start hurting again, but it didn’t happen. He kissed your hot forehead and left the room. You heard his footsteps going softly down the hall to Violet’s room.

Gwilym’s heart pounded. The hallway seemed to be so much longer now that there was an emergency and Sybil was coming at last. It seemed unreal that only hours ago, he had gone to the therapist with you and rebuffed an advance from her. That was a whole other world away now. The only thing that mattered now was your safety and the baby’s.

He entered Violet’s room. Swiftly, he strode to her bedside, kneeling down beside her. Her nightlight was a soft yellow, warming her complexion. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she stirred.

“Daddy?” she said through yawn.

“Wake up, lovie,” he said gently. “Your sister is coming.”

She sat upright. “What?!”

“That’s right,” he chuckled. “Get dressed now. We’ve got to get your mum to hospital.”

“Okay!” she cried, clamoring out of the bed and running to her closet.

“Need any help?” he offered.

“I’m not important right now!” she returned. “You need to go help Mommy!”

He laughed, kissed her head, and departed back down the hall.

“Alright,” Gwilym said as he re-entered the bedroom. “Violet’s getting dressed. Let me help you out of the bed, love.”

“O-okay,” you returned shakily, holding out your hand.

He grasped it, and your upper arm. You started to move your legs to the side, but winced. It hurt. A shooting pain reached from your back all the way down your legs.

“What’s the matter?” he wondered.

“It’s painful,” you breathed. “I dunno if I can walk.”

Gwilym panicked, but kept a straight face for your sake. He wouldn’t be able to carry you to the car on his own. He settled you back into bed.

“I’m going to call Dr. Tate,” he said. “She’ll know what to do.”

“Alright, honey,” you sighed.

Gwilym opened the door to find Violet standing there, preparing her hand to knock. She grinned up at him.

“I’m ready to go,” she said.

“Just a minute, lovie,” he returned. “You can go in and sit with Mum if you like.”

She nodded and then skipped into the room. Gwilym stepped out. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialed Dr. Tate’s cell phone. She had given you that number in case of an emergency. He definitely considered this an emergency.

“Hello?” came a groggy voice after about four rings.

“Dr. Tate?” Gwilym replied. “It’s Gwilym Lee.”

“Hello, Mr. Lee,” she said, sounding more alert now. “Is everything alright?”

“Y/N’s gone into labor,” he said.

He explained to her how you’d been in labor for hours now, but had not woken him, and things were quickly becoming more serious.

“She can’t walk,” he went on. “She’s in too much pain.”

“Have you called an ambulance?” she asked.

“No, honestly, I didn’t even think of that,” he replied.

His brain felt sort of fuzzy. Why on earth had he forgotten about an ambulance? That should have been obvious. But every ounce of logic was clouded with one thing - his daughter was being born right this second. He had a brutal urge to just step outside and shout into the air. That was what he was feeling.

“That’s alright,” Dr. Tate assured him. “I can call one for you. Or, if you don’t want to move her, I can come to your home and deliver the baby there.”

Gwilym’s heart leapt at the suggestion. So, he assumed it was the right thing.

“Yes, please, let’s do that,” he said.

“Alright,” she replied. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He said goodbye and hung up. He didn’t immediately go back to your room though. Instead, he took a moment to breathe. Every muscle, every cell in his body felt like it was trembling with anticipation. He observed his hands. They were shaking. After a few deep, calming breaths, he returned to you.

“So,” he began. “Dr. Tate is coming here. We don’t have to go anywhere.”

You chuckled, but even that hurt your back.

“God, I’m never gonna have a baby in a hospital, am I?” you joked.

“I wasn’t born in a hospital?” Violet questioned.

“No, baby, you were born in a closet,” you told her.

Her little eyes went round like an owl’s.

“Woah, Mommy...you’re a badass,” she said.

Gwilym frowned and tutted at her.

“Violet, where did you learn that word?” he demanded.

“Uncle Joe,” she answered.

“When did he -? Nevermind. Violet, that’s not a very nice -”

You cut across him. “Don’t scold her, Gwil. She’s right and she should say it.”

You all started to laugh together. For a fleeting moment, the fear of the situation disappeared and you were just sharing a laugh with your family. Then, another contraction struck. You hissed with pain and gripped your belly. Violet and Gwilym turned eyes on you, each of them taking one of your hands. You looked at your husband.

“Is Dr. Tate really coming?” you choked out.

He almost replied that it was a silly question. But it hit him that it was because of everything you’d been through. So much of your trust was broken, especially with the new people in your life. Just when he opened his mouth to reassure you it would be fine and she would be here soon, his phone rang. It was Dr. Tate.

“Hello?” he said.

“Mr. Lee, I’m so sorry,” she said. “My car’s broken down and I can’t even leave my house. You may want to call emergency services after all.”

“But, you still wouldn’t make it to the hospital,” he argued.

“Yes, but there are plenty of other doctor’s there to help,” she said. “The whole staff there is incredible, and -”

“But she doesn’t know any of them,” he said.

“I know, and I really am sorry, I was so excited to meet Sybil, but I just can’t get there,” she said, defeated.

“Let me call you a cab or something,” he offered.

“Oh, Mr. Lee, I couldn’t let you do that,” she refused.

“What’s going on?” you wondered after catching your breath.

“Dr. Tate’s got some car trouble,” Gwilym answered.

“What?!” you gasped.

Gwilym put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

“I could come get you,” he said to Dr. Tate.

“You shouldn’t leave Y/N in case anything happens,” she insisted. “Really, it’ll be fine if you go -”

“No, no more bloody let downs,” he said.

Dr. Tate sputtered for a response.

“Daddy, if you can’t go get her, why not ask Adam?” Violet suggested. “He’s Mommy’s assistant.”

“That’s brilliant, Vi!” he cried, kissing her head excitedly.

“What? No, we can’t bother him with this!” you interjected.

“Darling, please!” Gwilym cried. “Please! People are showing up for you today, alright? You’re giving birth, and believe it or not, we all love you and truly, genuinely want to help. Including Adam. So please just let us.”

Your eyes brimmed with fresh tears. You smiled.

“Okay,” you conceded. “Do what you need to.”

“Dr. Tate, we’re sending Y/N’s assistant to you to pick you up,” Gwilym said. “His name is Adam. I’ll just need you to send me your address so I can send it to him.”

“Okay, then,” she agreed.

Gwilym called Adam to ensure he was awake. He was, and immediately agreed to go and get the doctor. When Gwilym hung up, he returned to you.

“Turn on your side, love,” he said, reclining beside you. “I’ll rub your back.”

“You’re an angel,” you replied.

You needed his help in turning over, which he was happy to do. Violet climbed on the bed between you and added her hands as well. Gwilym showed her how to apply just enough pressure to relieve the pain.

An hour passed. Your labor had progressed now to where the contractions were less than two minutes apart and your pain had increased to a near unbearable amount. You were in tears and clinging to Gwilym for dear life. He had returned you to your position on your back because he feared at any moment, the time to begin pushing would be upon you. He checked his phone but there was no word from Adam or Dr. Tate, despite the numerous calls he’d made.

“Come on, Adam, pick up,” he muttered, calling once again.

He got Adam’s voicemail and nearly screamed.

Then, you let out a cry like nothing he’d ever heard before. It was strangled and broken as you threw your head back into the pillows. Your sweat-coated chest heaved and you sobbed.

“Aaaaahhhhh, Gwil!” you shouted. “It’s starting!”

“Oh, God, really?!” he cried.

He moved so he was sitting on his knees, between your legs. Violet stood up by your shoulders, crying silently. She was holding your hand.

“I CAN FEEL HER!” you shrieked.

Gwilym looked. He couldn’t see the head yet, but he didn’t doubt that you felt it. Terror rushed through him. He swallowed, trying not to let you see how scared he was. He knew nothing about delivering a child, and he didn’t want to mess anything up. He looked desperately over at Violet.

“Violet, I think we’re on our own,” he said. “Go to the closet and get as many clean towels as you can. Then you need to go to the kitchen and get a bowl of hot water. As hot as it will go, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” she said with a firm nod.

She left the room, and started down the hall to the linen closet. He heard her struggling with the towels and he started to go and help her, but then the doorbell rang. It wasn’t just one ring, either, it was several frenzied rings like someone was pressing it rapidly.

“I’ll get it!” Violet called.

Gwilym looked at you. You reached for him and he gave you his hand.

“She’s coming,” you said thickly. “She’s nearly here, Gwil, I - oh SHIT!”

You writhed against the bed, squeezing his hand so hard he swore the bones cracked. But he didn’t show one ounce of discomfort. He just whispered soothing words into your ear.

Violet burst back into the room, followed by Adam and Doctor Tate, who both were red-faced and winded.

“What the hell took you?!” Gwilym demanded.

Dr. Tate didn’t answer, she just got straight to work, throwing a sheet over your legs and pulling several tools out of her bag. Adam heaved like he might vomit, but didn’t. He took a deep breath.

“There was a - holy shit,” he panted. “There was a roadblock. The GPS said it was going to be a three hour delay, so we pulled off, parked at a store, and ran the rest of the way here.”

“You ran here?!” Gwilym repeated, astounded.

Before Adam could answer, Dr. Tate interrupted.

“Okay, we’re about to start pushing,” she said. “Adam, could you take Violet and -”

“No,” you said weakly. “They can both stay.”

“Are you sure?” Dr. Tate asked.

You nodded. With that, Adam scooped up Violet, and sat in a chair by the bed. By your head so they wouldn’t see anything too intimate. She placed her little hand on your shoulder and it was such a comfort to you. You started to thank her, but a whimper came out instead.

“Okay, Y/N,” said Dr. Tate. “Are you with me?”

You looked at her. Gwilym stood beside her, holding one of your legs up.

“I am,” you sighed.

“You’re so strong,” she said. “I just need you to keep being strong for a little bit longer. It’s too late to administer drugs, so this won’t be easy. Just remember you’ve done it before. You got this. I need to give me a hard push in three...two...one, PUSH!”

“AAARRRRGGGHHHH!” you cried, putting every ounce of energy you had into pushing.

Gwilym watched, amazed, as the baby’s head began to emerge. You fell back against the pillows and prepared to push again.

Hey you, you're a child in my head

You haven't walked yet

Your first words have yet to be said

But I swear you'll be blessed

I know you're still just a dream

your eyes might be green

Or the bluest that I've ever seen

Anyway you'll be blessed

And you, you'll be blessed

You'll have the best

I promise you that

I'll pick a star from the sky

Pull your name from a hat

I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that

You'll be blessed

I need you before I'm too old

To have and to hold

To walk with you and watch you grow

And know that you're blessed

Finally, with a healthy cry, Sybil Audrey Lee entered the world.

***

In the coming weeks, you and your family had a ton of visitors. Gwilym’s parents stopped by pretty frequently, but they were always careful that Violet received attention along with Sybil. You had never appreciated two people more.

When Sybil was three weeks old, Joe, Rami, and Ben all made it over to see her. Joe was holding her and giving her a bottle while Violet sat on Gwilym’s lap. They all listened as Gwil told the story of the birth once again.

“Damn,” Joe said. “That’s so intense. How’d you get through it?”

You took Gwilym’s hand. “I couldn’t have done it without Gwil. Violet wasn’t as stubborn about coming out. Sybil was apparently very comfortable in there.”

He laughed, kissing your temple.

“You did it, darling,” he said. “I mostly ran around and panicked.”

Joe threw the burping cloth over his shoulder and adjusted Sybil so he could begin patting her back.

“How are you, Violet?” Ben asked. “Are you helping Mum and Dad?”

“I am!” she returned. “I don’t know how they get on while I’m at school because I do a lot. I feed Sybil all the time, but Mommy or Daddy burps her. I’ve even learned how to change her diapers.”

“Actually, Violet has been incredible,” you admitted. “She helps out with the cleaning as well.”

“Well, Grandma showed me how to do everything, so you guys can sleep!” she said.

“You’re the backbone of the household, lovie,” Gwilym told her. “Just remember to be a kid too.”

The rest of the visit was similarly pleasant, and they agreed to return the next day to take you all to lunch somewhere out of the house.

One thing had not changed since Sybil’s birth. Gwilym still read to Violet every night before bed. No matter how tired he was or what was happening. He refused to let that tradition change. In doing so, he showed Violet that she was still a priority.

Somehow, with Sybil, Gwilym was a natural. You were frequently asking him told take her so you could pump or switch out bras, or put her down so you could close your eyes before having to feed her. He was truly all you could hope for in a father for your child. Since Sybil’s birth, you had not hesitated once to ask him for help. And you stopped apologizing when you did. You had no idea what flipped the switch. You were just glad to be fully a part of a team.

That night, as you placed Sybil in the bassinet, you reflected on the breakthroughs you had made. You felt so lucky. To have a child as sweet as Violet who, even though her feelings still got hurt sometimes, she was becoming very understanding. To have a husband as wonderful as Gwilym, who had fought so hard for the birth of Sybil to go just right, even though it derailed quite a bit.

Gwil joined you after putting Violet to bed. You watched him go and kiss Sybil gently before climbing into bed with you. You smiled and hummed happily.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I was just thinking how wonderful it is that Sybil has you and Violet in her life,” you said. “She’s very blessed, you know.” You leaned over and kissed his lips tenderly. When you pulled back, you held his gaze.

“And so am I.”

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

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Take Me To Church (ThunderShield)

My favorite ThunderShield dynamic includes hopelessly stupidly in love Steve with shameless!Thor, so enjoy our two favorite blonds in a short story inspired by Hoziers “Take Me To Church”.

Note: The linked video is of Sergei Polunin dancing to the song, because Hozier’s original video is very powerful but also needs TW and this story is about people discovering/enjoying the beauty of their love. Also, there are general jokes that skew towards blasphemous, and mentions of past period typical homophobia but nothing terrible.

Another Note: this is not near as serious as you expect

Enjoy!

**************

“There’s only one god, ma’am.” Steve said confidently. “And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.”

Famous last words, as the saying goes.

The Battle for New York taught Steve Rogers, —Captain America, the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, the Man Out of Time, Stars and Gripes (as Tony so lovingly called him)— about a lot of things, like portals in space and aliens and mild mannered scientists that turned into horrifying rage monsters.

But the one thing Steve hadn’t been prepared to learn, the one thing that kept him up at night and up in the shower and up every damn day of his unexpectedly 21st century life—

There definitely was more than one god, and the one named Thor dressed however he damn well pleased.

Or didn’t dress however he damn well pleased, as the current case was.

“Thor.” Steve forgot to check his strength and the sparring bag ripped off the chain, flew across the gym and dented the wall next to a suddenly screaming Clint. “What—what—I—shit.”

“Steven.” Thor replied evenly, mopping at his sweaty naked body with a hand towel, never breaking eye contact with Steve. “How are you?”

“I--”

Steve was broken, is what he was.

Three months he’d been trying to convince himself he wasn’t out of his mind with lust over a deity and yet Thor did things like this, like walk around naked, like flaunt his body while his eyes sparked lightning, like Steve wasn’t two heartbeats away from falling to his knees and begging--

“Hey big guy, I told you the rules about full frontal nudity in the gym, right?” Tony, fresh from yoga with Tasha and Pepper, who had exactly zero issue ogling everything Thor was presenting. “Not all of us are swinging hammers below the belt, stop making us self conscious.”

“Oh I’m not self conscious!” Pepper called from the other side of the gym, and at her side, Natasha put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. “I’m not feeling self conscious at all! Stay naked Thor!”

“Ms. Potts.” Thor sent the petite redhead a knowing grin, but nevertheless redirected the hand towel to cover more of his nudity. “Apologies, I didn’t realize anyone other than Steven was in here.”

“Oh.” Tony blinked. “So you were flashing your dangly bits specifically for Steve? Or---”

“Tony!” Steve hissed, thinking he might actually pass out if he blushed any harder. “Stop that!”

“I know that Steve is a warrior of my caliber.” Thor pointed out calmly. “And I wanted to ask him to wrestle.”

“Buck naked?” For all his insistence of Thor covering up, Tony wasn’t even trying to look away from the demi gods backside. “...Can I watch?”

Steve closed his eyes and-- not for the first time since meeting the fast talking, quick smiling brunette-- contemplated murder.

“No.” Thor answered firmly and Tony’s mouth dropped a little. “No, this is a a moment I intend only for myself and Steven.”

“Yes.” Steve blurted and both Tony and Thor-- and from across the gym, a wide eyed Clint-- turned to look at him. “Yes I could wrestle. We could-- we could wrestle. I want to wrestle with you.”

“This will be very fun.” Thor’s grin glinted with just an edge of knowing.

“Very fun.” Steve repeated numbly. “Oh god, I don’t know if I’ll survive this. This will kill me.”

“But a deathless death, is it not?” Thor rumbled, low and startlingly intimate and Steve’s eyes snapped up to meet the demi gods.

“...A deathless death.” he repeated because oh-- oh--oh Thor was talking about---

“Have you found Valhalla?” Tony was forgotten and Clint forgotten and the shockingly inappropriate cat calls from the women forgotten as Thor took a step closer to Steve. “Lately? Recently? On your own?”

“We call it heaven.” Steve stumbled forward a step too, nearly falling but catching himself on a sweat slick bicep and squeezing hard. “And yes, on my own.”

Lightning lit in Thor’s eyes. “A better place if you and I are sent there together.”

“Oh.” Steve swallowed hard. “Oh.”

“Hungry?” Thor’s smile was wicked and Steve was wanting as he whispered back. “Starving.”

**************

“Okay so then?” Tony reached across Rhodey to steal most of the egg rolls off the plate. “Thor says he wants to wrestle and I swear to God, Steve almost died. Almost expired right there in the gym. Thor said something about not really dying but being sent to Valhalla or something? And then Steve basically died. Heart failure, probably.”

“Or his dick exploded.” Clint pointed out, shoving noodles into his mouth at an alarming rate. “Cause of death, surprised by a god-caused orgasm. What a way to go.”

“You are all animals.” Natasha said calmly, picking her way through a vegetarian plate with Pepper. “I’m not saying Steve doesn’t have a ten inch hard on for our resident celestial--” Pepper inhaled broccoli. “-- but Steve’s issue with Thor might actually be because Thor is a god and Steve grew up in a time when there was definitely only one god and he certainly didn’t look like a walking wet dream.”

“You think?” Rhodey slapped Tony’s hand away from another egg roll. “Captain America doesn’t have a problem with aliens and wormholes and magic and waking up seventy years in the future, but having multiple gods is where he draws the line?”

“You’re all forgetting Steve has seen some pretty unbelievable things, even before waking up.” Bruce pointed out. “Hydra was creating weapons back then that bordered on magical. He saw what happened to Schmidt being turned into the Red Skull, he saw the guy get zapped to a different portal. And beyond that, the guy is Irish. He might only believe in one god, but if you think he didn’t grow up hearing stories about fairies and all that? You’re wrong.”

“So you don’t think he has a problem with Thor being a god.” Pepper clarified. “It’s not a religion issue.”

“Oh no, it’s religious alright.” Bruce stabbed at an egg rolls, ignoring Tony’s gasp of outrage. “But it has less to do with ‘how many gods’ and more to do with what Steve wants to do with god.”

A round of collective ‘ohs’ from the table, and then Clint-- “I mean, yeah. It’s a big jump when the topic of your prayers turns from ‘Bless mama and papa and the potatoes’ over to ‘Dear god, I’d really like you to stick it in me, also thanks for your blessings and your bounty’.”

“Stop that.” Natasha kicked at him. “No one actually prays to Thor.”

“But he’s right.” Pepper interceded. “Being gay was a lot bigger deal back then, and if Steve struggled with feeling guilty for his feelings, imagine the guilt when he’s not only with a man, but that man happens to be a god. That brings up all sorts of issues.”

“Well it brings up one specific issue, anyway.” Tony countered, and then ack!ed when Rhodey threw a pillow at him. “What! I’m just saying I’m sure Steve is being properly supplicant! Probably on his knees praying to Thor right now!”

Rhodey and Bruce shared an equally pained look while the rest of the team collapsed into helpless giggles.

Earth’s mightiest heroes? Or a bunch of blasphemous degenerates?

“The good news is--!” Rhodey finally raised his voice above the noise. “Thor is pretty great, and he’ll be sure to show Steve that being together is beautiful, not sinful or wrong or any of the other things they yell from the pulpit on Sunday mornings.”

Murmurs of agreement around the table, and then Clint one last time-- “I’m just saying? I’d let Thor take me to church any day of the week. Praise Jesus.”

“You’re all going to hell.” Bruce informed the group, and whatever else Clint said was drowned out in laughter.

*****************

“I could worship here forever.” Thor whispered, and Steve arched his back and cried out when powerful hands gripped at his legs to hold them open, when Thor’s mouth and lips and tongue found their place between his thighs.

Yes they had wrestled, yes they had wrestled, grappling at each other in the hot gym, rolling around the mats with their bodies rubbing together, stripping away shirts so sweat soaked skin slid over sweat soaked skin.

Hands never slipped, but only purposefully strayed, and Steve hadn’t been able to quiet his moan when Thor had pinned him to the mat. He’d broken the hold and scrambled away but Thor was on him again, again and again, and when their legs tangled and muscles strained, it had been Thor who had gasped something unholy and shoved Steve flat on his back to cover him in a bruising kiss.

And Steve thought-- a tad hysterically of course-- of all the Sundays he’d sat in church and stared up at the stained glass windows of the saints, all the Sundays he’d knelt by the alter and prayed, all the times he’d admitted his sins and repented, the weeks he’d felt guilty for looking at boys longer than he should--

“Not sick.” he blurted, or more likely slurred because his mouth was loose and jaw sore and tongue tired and voice hoarse after taking Thor and taking Thor and taking Thor so far down his throat. “Beautiful.”

“Yes.” for all of Thor’s teasing, for his lack of understanding when it came to Earthly things, he was not silly nor was he stupid and he knew exactly what Steve was saying and why he was saying it. “Beautiful.”

Worship. Was Steve’s last coherent thought when Thor split him open and took him apart and stripped him down to nothing more than sunlit pleasure.

Should have worshiped here sooner.

****************

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@bethy-sue @babypinkbunny @lilwitchybee @shipeveryonetogether @shadowrayven @hausoffro @thereaderandwriterwithin @zerokrox-blog @zuretha-metal @tstilcr @larissaloki @blackhearted @itsallyd @megahuffledor @tabziecat @ceealaina @cwar1864 @pidgist @yukina64 @multishippinglife @susana0 @paranormalmoonlight5 @girlnic @vgurl18 @sw3etpotat0 @jade-taillia

#ncts fics #thundershield #thor odinson #steve rogers #song fic #tony stark #james rhodes #pepper potts #clint barton #natasha romanov #bruce banner

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psychicscavenger · 5 years

Text

Sea Witch (Shance MerMay 2019)

another drabble for my series Making Waves and Turning Tides. Series was inspired by @justshance‘s Mermay prompts for 2019, written for @shancemermay and fellow shance and mermaid fans in general.

Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, some plot, conspiracy, pining, fairy tale elements, little mermaid elements, AU

After having to watch that disgusting display of emotions, Lotor sank into the depths of the abyss, welcoming the feeling of darkness as well as the increasing pressure allowing his gills to breathe in and out gently. The wonderful air flowing through and cleaning out the salty air from above surface left him feeling more relaxed but he was still on edge hoping his plan would work.

Lotor continued to swim down, the light from the surface fading away until he was swallowed up by the void, circling around him with only his senses to guide him past other mers who lingered around the abyss, usually nowhere to go with other unsavory creatures who liked to lurk in the deep. Lotor located his cave quickly, quietly slipping into the vast cavern, easily avoiding the fluttering cuttlefish his mother liked to experiment on. He cool called out a greeting towards the witch, sliding against a rock and parking himself there, unfurling his tentacles to stretch as the witch, his mother Honerva, approached.

"Lotor have you spoken with the fish noble's son?" A raspy voice called from behind the seaweed curtain. Lotor hummed, meticulously cleaning a tentacle sucker, making sure no remnants of fish scales were stuck underneath before casually replying, "Yes I have. The silly little brat took the deal and he's now off frolicking on the dry lands with the king. We'll be ruling this pathetic ocean soon Mother. That damned Queen Allura was a fool to reject me as a potential mate and to cast you from her palace with your talents! A true disgrace for a monarch in my opinion." Lotor huffed as his mother oozed from the shadows, pulling back the weeds to expose her curling tentacles floating around her as she glided over to her son.

"Just remember the plan. Once that noble gets a taste of what he wants, you'll draw him back and make him hold up his part of the deal. We need that trident if we want to take over the ocean." She spoke, every word punctuated harshly through the murky water Lotor would twitch every time she spoke.

"And what happens if he refuses or doesn't get a hold of it? Lance is divine looks wise but he's not all that brilliant upstairs." Lotor mocked snickering at the image of the mer earlier, acting all flustered and squeamish when the two humans approached him.

"That I'll leave to you dear son. Consider it a gift for helping me this far. It's taken years to find the right someone to help take down the queen but now I have high hopes that we'll be taking over not one but two kingdoms if all goes well." Honerva spoke heading over to a cavern rock that held some valuable objects to her. It was piled with bones, some mers, some regular fish. She even had a collection of shark teeth in a jar as well las several jars of glowing substances, Lotor would rather not ask what those were about.

Honerva pulled out a dusty broken mirror, so old it was rotted in the handle area, bits of algae and mold growing on the reflective portion which Honerva wiped away, repeating a few mumbled phrases unintelligible until the mirror glowed and soon Lotor was watching Lance in the mirror.

"This way we'll keep an eye on the boy, measure his progress with the humans." Honerva stated watching as Lance was currently having a battle with a few humans over the proper way to wear what the humans called pants. Lotor furrowed his brows watching the spectacle as he leaned back, crossing his arms with impatience.

"How long will this take do you think?" He asked getting annoyed upon seeing the human king enter the room and calmly remediating the situation, hands lingering upon Lance's waist with Lance flushing immediately.

"Not long, humans are easily predictable and are often like the very fish they hunt and eat. Place something shiny and new in front of them, and they'll snatch up the bait pretty easily." Honerva explained smirking upon seeing the matching blushing expressions between Lance and the human king.

"Sometimes too easily." She grinned.

****

Lance wasn't normally materialistic, sure he was a mermaid, he hoarded a fair bit of treasure that many humans have dropped into the ocean, and he liked to keep his scales cleaner and shinier than his family or friends in the shoal, but compared to having a big, fluffy cushion all to himself, not having to share with his sisters, brothers, niece and nephew, he knew he could never go back to his old life.

"It's so big and bouncy! Beds are so cool!" He moaned, spreading his arms and legs over and over on the vast space, the long sleep shirt he was given rising up just a tad bit, exposing more and more of his upper thighs that had Shiro coughing and glancing away out of respect for his guest, and to keep himself in check.

"Yeah they are..also I just want you to know that you are welcome to stay here as long as you like even if you're finished recovering, I'm afraid to admit, but living on the far coast we don't see too many visitors." Shiro explained a small smile appearing on his face as Lance sat up tilting his head just so in that adorable curious way he's done all day.

"Do I get to use the bed still?" Lance asked which had Shiro chuckling. "Yes, you can use the bed as long as you want." Lance sighed happily flopping back over much to Shiro's amusement as Lance flipped over and snuggled into the sheets.

"Thank Goddess, I never want to leave ever again. You are my treasure now." Lance reached up patting a pillow as Shiro held back a giggle about to head out into the hall.

"If you need anything, I'm sure any of the kind people working here can attend to your needs, I'll be up as well as I'm not much of a sleeper, my rooms not too far down the hall. If you can't find someone, just come find me." Shiro stated turning to head out when Lance shot up, shouting "Wait!"

Shiro froze, unsure what was wrong until he suddenly found a sturdy presence pressing into his front side, arms wrapped around his middle and nearly hanging off of him(Lance still hadn't been able to get his legs to work properly like the humans, Shiro was currently in the process of finding the man a wheelchair to use in the meantime), his face pressed into Shiro's shirt, inhaling deeply as he spoke.

"Goodnight Shiro. I'm glad I met you, you were definetly worth it." Lance sighed happily unaware of the blushing flustered mess Shiro had become.

At first he wasn't sure what to say to something like that. It was definetly a little odd for a goodnight even if the man was very obviously appreciative of Shiro's hospitality, although it was expressed in such a strange way it had Shiro wanting to seek out answers to this puzzle.

But first, bed time.

Eventually, Shiro hugged him back, a little less tighter than Lance's but happy to return the affection in some way, whispering goodnight to Lance before gently coaxing him back to bed, maybe spending a bit too much time tucking him in but he reminded himself, or rather, tried to convince, that he was simply being extra cautious since the man was injured. They still haven't been able to get any solid information such as who he was or where he came from, but he was ultimately deemed not a threat and welcomed by the castle staff and guards alike.

All except for Keith that is.

Keith was friendly, in his own strange way. He obviously cared for others who mattered to him and Shiro's second-in-command for a reason.

His people skills..need work on the other hand.

Since Lance has been invited to the castle, Shiro had found the two bickering several times and Lance had only been there for four hours. Keith didn't trust strangers so easily and was incredibly suspicious of Lance, Shiro didn't really blame him either because Lance did some..very weird things. Like tonight's dinner fiasco.

As Shiro slipped away from Lance's bedroom, trying to get Lance's soft sleepy smile out of his head, he almost groaned at the memory of Lance's first dinner experience in the castle and how..not great it turned out. Apparently salad was too confusing of a dish to explain to Lance so he didn't eat it. The main course, some kind of lobster bisque, had insulted Lance, and in the end the only thing he liked was bread that he referred to as a beige sea sponge. Then Keith got involved...

"Shiro I need to talk to you." Shiro flinched, finding himself suddenly face to face with the very angry person he was thinking off.

"Good because I think we need to sign you up for more etiquette lessons." Shiro teased amused as Keith's face bloomed in embarrassment before he turned away huffing, with Shiro following.

"Lance started it, he was acting so weird! All I simply said was, the fork isn't to comb your hair and he yelled at me! He got mad because I wouldn't let him comb his hair with a fork Shiro, a fork, thats weird." Shiro sighed in response, understanding somewhat.

"Keith what you said was and I quote; 'Hey idiot, that's not how a fork works,' and glared at him until he stopped. I don't blame him for getting upset to be honest." Shiro shrugged it off, turning away towards his room when Keith jumped in front of him again.

"Still, how does someone his age not know how to use a fork? He looked like he had never seen one before Shiro! He's been looking at everything like that He got excited sitting in a chair Shiro. A chair. Don't you think that's a little suspicious at all? What if he's planning something?" Keith asked urgently to which Shiro sighed, aware that Keith tended to think towards the negative and conspiratorial side of things.

"Well, it's strange but I'm actually starting to guess the poor guy hit his head so hard he may have amnesia. It explain's why he can't remember how to use the most basic of human tasks. That or something really bad happened to him, we'll just have to find out and by doing that, he'll have to stay here, got it?" Shiro asked gently to which Keith nodded, obviously disgruntled with the idea.

"Fine but I don't like this." He griped trodding behind Shiro heading off towards his own room as Shiro just about closed his door, a few guards posted outside in case of any emergency.

"Okay MOM. Goodnight." Shiro held back a giggle when Keith made a face, waving him off as his version of 'goodnight' before Shiro shut his door getting ready for bed and a small part of him excited and intrigued to get to know his blue eyed guest.

#shance #shance mermay 2019 #lance is in love with beds #partcularly big beds he doesnt have to share #unless he wa ssharing with shiro of course

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three-drink-amy · 5 years

Text

If After All These Years, You’d Like to Meet

Chapter Three

Jamie and Claire were set to meet at noon for lunch. Her body didn’t seem to remember that it got to sleep in again, though. She was up and about by 7:30, cursing herself the whole time. Since she’d started working at the hospital so soon after moving, there were still numerous unpacked boxes around her flat. Some were even being used as end tables. She wasn’t working and she didn’t have plans till later. It seemed like the right time to start taking care of the boxes.

It was just after 11:00 when she took a break to get ready before lunch. While she’d gotten a lot unboxed, she still had a lot to do to make the place truly homey. Shrugging, she walked off to her room. It was a problem for later. She’d thrown on some clothes and base makeup. It was a lunch with a friend so she didn’t need to look her best.

As she walked from her room there was one box to catch her eye. It simply bore the tag “Lamb.” Two other boxes sat with it, bearing the same tag. Tears came unbidden to her eyes as she settled down to look through them. There had only been a few boxes of Uncle Lamb’s things she’d kept. She’d held onto her treasured mementos of him, of course. But most of the his personal belongings were of no use to her. In defiance of her aim to not be sentimental, there had still been things she couldn’t let go. There were also boxes she simply hadn’t had the time to sort through before she’d had to return to Boston to pack up her own things. She’d brought these things with her and now it seemed was finally going to look at their contents.

One box was papers he’d written and all educational or professional works. Silly as it was, she couldn’t bin them. Perhaps she could find someone in the archeological field who would be interested in copies of his papers. The next box she looked in seemed to be his random box. There was no rhyme or reason to the things in there. After deciding there was nothing worth saving in the box, she moved onto the third and final box. Somehow she’d saved the biggest one for last.

Tears surprised her as they fell from her eyes nearly as quickly as she realized the box was filled with her parents’ belongings. She found several packs of old pictures, a photo album from their wedding, part of their silver set, and, in a plastic bag, numerous terrible drawings she’d created. Sitting back against the wall, Claire let the tears fall freely. It had been a really long time since she’d missed her parents this much. With Lamb gone, she felt her last tie to them had disappeared.

Claire dried her eyes, hoping the worst of it was done. She picked up the photo envelopes and started looking through them. There were pictures from the home they’d had in England that she could barely remember. In the next envelope was a picture of Claire standing proudly in front of a moving van with her mother. The rest of the pictures in the roll were from the Scotland house. Claire smiled as she stared down at a picture of her and her parents standing happily in front of their new house. Uncle Lamb had taken the picture right before he left to go on his next dig in Turkey.

She realized it was getting close to time that Jamie would arrive. With that, Claire decided to look through one more envelope before lunch. And with the first picture, she knew she’d picked the right stack to peruse. The first picture was a shot of seven or eight year old Claire sitting on a fence with seven or eight year old Jamie. She laughed at the picture of the two of them smiling hard for the camera. Looking through the stack, they seemed to all be pictures of the Fraser kids, Ian, and Claire playing and posing around Lallybroch or the Beauchamps’ home. Claire shook her head in awe as she took a solo trip down memory lane. She’d just reached the best of the pictures when her phone started buzzing on the table.

“Hello,” she answered.

“Hey! I’m downstairs,” Jamie informed her.

“Great! Come upstairs for a second!”

“What? No, Sassenach, I’m starving. Let’s just go,” Jamie nearly whined.

“Oh come on, it’ll be really quick. Just come upstairs,” Claire argued back.

“Ye better not be trying to seduce me or something,” Jamie joked.

Claire rolled her eyes, holding back a laugh. “Oh no, you figured me out,” she replied sarcastically. “It’ll be a couple of minutes. Just come on.”

Jamie sighed loudly through the phone. “Fine, buzz me up.”

She was still looking through the pictures when there was a knock at her door. Opening the door, she smiled at him brightly. “Hi!” she greeted.

“What’s the emergency?” Jamie asked in a bored tone.

She motioned him to come in. “Well I was going through some of Uncle Lamb’s boxes that I have and I wanted to show you what I found.”

“Seriously? And this couldn’t have waited till after lunch? I wasna kidding. I’m quite hungry.” Claire fixed him with a glare and held out the package of photos for him. He took them from her gently and opened the envelope, gasping softly at the first picture of the two of them. He wore a broad smile as he looked through the first few pictures. Looking up at her apologetically, he said, “Alright, I can see why ye wanted me to come up here. Sorry.” She chuckled and shook her head, stepping closer to look at the pictures again with him. “These are hilarious. I canna believe your mother caught an action shot of us pushing Ian out of the swing.”

Claire laughed with him. “I couldn’t believe that either. I don’t remember us getting yelled at after that, but I’m sure we did.”

“Oh there’s nay doubt we did,” Jamie agreed. He flipped through the pictures with such care, a moment paused on each one to remember the time it was taken. “I’d forgotten about that wee shed ye had in yer backyard. We had a lot of fun there.”

She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face as she looked down at the picture of young Claire and Jamie sticking their faces against the window of the shed her parents had converted for a playspace. “Yeah, we did, didn’t we?” So many happy memories were being presented to them again. A time when both of them still had both of their parents. The kids in these pictures were truly happy and carefree. Perhaps that was the feeling Jamie brought out in Claire again.

“No way,” Jamie muttered, interrupting her thoughts. Taking his eyes off the second to last picture, he looked up at Claire with a smile of disbelief on his face.

“That was the one I wanted you to see most! I’d forgotten Jenny and I talked the two of you into playing “Wedding” with us! And then I found that! How amazing is that?”

Jamie pulled out his phone to take a picture of the picture. “I canna believe there is a picture of Jenny and Ian being married as kids. I have to send this to Jenny. She’ll lose it for sure.” Once he’d marveled at the picture enough, he moved onto the next one. This one showed the other wedding that had happened that day: Young Jamie and Claire’s. Jamie breathed out a laugh. “But of course it was a double wedding.” Claire laughed too as she nodded. “Goodness, I told a coworker I was having lunch wi a friend. I should have told him I was having lunch wi my wife. How careless of me.”

Claire smacked him on the arm, still laughing. “Too right.” He put the pictures back in the envelope and handed it back to her. “Alright, now we can go eat. I’ll wait till after lunch to seduce you,” she teased. Jamie shot her a strange look. “What? You were the one who said it earlier? I was just keeping up the joke.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Aye, but now it’s just weird.”

“What, because we just looked at our wedding pictures?” Claire continued teasing.

Jamie laughed at her joke. “That was it. It made it too real.”

Rolling her eyes, Claire grabbed her jacket and walked to the door, Jamie following her.

They were chatting easily over lunch when Jamie grabbed his phone. Holding up a finger in apoology, he checked it quickly. Claire didn’t mind. She ended up having to check her phone often due to work. Well, that and the long distance relationship she was trying to sustain. He started laughing and looked up at her. “Jenny says she’d forgotten that she and Ian were an old marrit couple. She seems to think it’s quite funny that you found that.”

Claire smiled, still in disbelief of the memories she’d uncovered. “What did Ian have to say?”

“She actually asked me to show it to him when I see him tonight.”

Claire raised her eyebrows. “He’ll be here?”

“Oh aye,” Jamie confirmed. “He has some big meeting here in London tomorrow for work. So he’ll be staying with me.”

“The company won’t put him in a hotel?” she asked, hoping he didn’t work for the Mackenzies as well.

“Och, no, of course they do. But Ian always turns it down and says he’s a place to stay in London,” Jamie explained with a shake of his head.

“Ah, so he uses his friend and brother in law for free lodging?”

He nodded. “Exactly. He says it’s in the spirit of bonding time but I’m not quite convinced.”

Claire laughed, just able to picture it in her mind. “That’s exciting though that he’ll be in town.”

“Ye’re welcome to see him if ye’d like,” Jamie offered. “He’ll be staying at my place.”

“Oh, I don’t want to horn in on your time together,” Claire said, waving off his offer.

Jamie raised one eyebrow at her. “I see Ian plenty. It’s been 18 years for ye. Ye’re more than welcome to join us this evening if ye’d like.”

“Well that sounds lovely,” Claire agreed with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

As they left their restaurant, Claire saw a considerable amount of people walking to and from the next street corner. “Oh I wonder if the market is still open,” she mused to herself.

“The market?” Jamie asked, following her gaze.

“Mhmm, it’s just a little street market. A couple of friends at work have said they have found some interesting things there. So far though, I’ve never gotten there when it’s still open,” she explained.

“Well then let’s go have a look, shall we?” Jamie said with a gesture towards the market. Claire shrugged and started walking, Jamie falling in line next to her. They wandered down to find that the market was indeed still active. Claire smiled happily as she looked at all the different booths to peruse. Jamie silently followed her as she walked from booth to booth. Occasionally, he’d point something out that he thought was noteworthy. Claire kept presenting things to him for his approval. She tried on a necklace and looked at him for his opinion. He nodded in approval. “That looks quite bonny,” he remarked. Something about the face he made as he appraised her made her turn right around and buy it.

Claire was admiring a blue vase at another booth when she heard her name. Jamie and Claire both turned to see who’d called out to her. “Ah, Mary! You’re off today as well then?” she asked, greeting her friend from the hospital.

“Oh yes, thankfully! I’ve never needed a weekend off so badly in my life.”

Claire nodded vehemently. “I know exactly what you mean. It seemed like it would never come.”

“Apparently Fentiman had to do a whole emergency surgery yesterday,” Mary gossipped.

“Christ, on his own?” Claire asked, astounded at the thought. “He’s just started his residency.” Mary nodded, agreeing with her. “This is probably indelicate to ask, but did they survive?”

She leaned in close to Claire and lowered her voice. “Well I heard from one of the other nurses that it was touch and go for a while. But the patient seems to be pulling through.”

Claire nodded, feeling impressed by her coworker. “I hate to say I wouldn’t have expected much from him. But good for him.” She glanced over at Jamie, noting how bored he looked. “I’m sorry, we’re being so rude.”

He shook his head, about to speak but Mary interrupted him before he could. “I’m so sorry. Claire, is this the famous boyfriend? The one you left in Boston? I don’t know how you’d do that,” she questioned, nearly drooling at the sight of Jamie. Claire hated the feeling of possessiveness that came over her. She wanted nothing more than to step between Mary and Jamie.

“Uh, no, actually,” Claire said quickly, trying to get Mary’s attention back on her. “This is actually my friend, Jamie.”

“Ah,” Mary replied, still eyeing Jamie. “I should have known,” turning her eyes to Claire, “You did say that he seems hesitant to cross the ocean.”

Claire grimaced at the statement. She hated that she’d shared that with Mary. It just came out one night when Claire was overly tired and in a gossipping session with Mary. Since then, she’d done her best to avoid Mary when she seemed like she wanted new dirt. “Yes, well he’ll actually be here soon,” Claire lied. Jamie looked at her with a surprised expression. “Anyway, Mary, we have somewhere to be, but I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” Mary nodded and said her goodbyes, her eyes lingering on Jamie as they left.

Once they were out of Mary’s earshot, Jamie broached the subject between them. “Ye didna tell me that Frank was making a trip over.”

“He’s not,” Claire said shortly. “I lied to Mary. I don’t need another Geillis or Louise at work. I’ll just let her believe what she wants.”

“Well ye convinced me so ye must have convinced her as well, if that helps,” Jamie said with a grin.

Looking back over her shoulder at Mary, Claire replied, “It actually does.”

Without ever meaning to, or really acknowledging it, Claire and Jamie ended up spending the rest of the afternoon together. They wandered around running errands either of them needed to or simply going in shops that looked interesting. It was nearing dinner when Jamie got a call from Ian saying he was getting close to being there. They grabbed some food and went back to Jamie’s flat to wait for Ian.

A knock at the door signalled his arrival and Jamie jumped up to get the door. Claire observed as Ian and Jamie greeted each other happily, wrapping the other in a big hug. She smiled at the sight of it. Similarly to when she re-met Jamie, she could see remainders of the young boy she knew in Ian. He certainly had the same smile. He froze for a second when he laid eyes on Claire. “Och, sorry, Jamie. Ye could ha told me ye had a lass over.”

Jamie turned around to look at Claire. “Oh, I don’t.” Claire shot him a puzzled look. “Well, she is a lass, so technically, I do have a lass over, but it’s no like that,” he stammered. He gestured Ian to come further into the room. “Ian, do ye recall Claire Beauchamp from when we were kids?” Ian nodded. Jamie pointed to her saying, “This is Claire!”

Ian stared at her, eyes wide. “Goodness, it can’t be! Claire Beauchamp?” Claire smiled and nodded. “Well how the hell did this happen?” Ian walked forward and wrapped Claire in a hug.

“I moved back to London just recently and ran into Jamie through some mutual friends,” Claire explained happily.

Ian marveled at the sight of her. “That’s wonderful. Goodness. How’ve ye been?”

She sat down on Jamie’s couch. “Um, pretty good. It’s certainly good to be back in England.”

“She’s a doctor now,” Jamie informed Ian. Claire rolled her eyes as he sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch. Ian followed suit and joined Claire on the couch.

“Look at you,” he said, seemingly impressed. “What kind of doctor are you?”

“I’m a surgeon,” Claire tried to say humbly. “I hear you’re married with a bunch of children!”

Ian smiled bashfully. “That’s true. Four in all. The oldest is five.”

“Wow, that’s a lot!” Claire remarked.

Ian shrugged. “Ye get used to the chaos after a couple of them. And ye get used to operating on less sleep than a human adult requires. But I suppose ye probably know how that goes if ye’re a doctor.”

Claire couldn’t disagree with him. It was, after all, the first weekend she’d had off since she’d moved back. And the hours certainly were insane. She merely nodded to agree with him.

“So ye come back to England and the first thing ye do is start spending time wi this one?” Ian asked, pointing to Jamie with an amused look on his face.

Claire laughed. “Silly of me, isn’t it?” she replied, grinning.

“I’d say. If I hadna fallen for his sister and married her, I’d have dropped him years ago,” Ian teased.

Jamie looked at them and rolled his eyes. “Sure ye would have.”

Suddenly, Claire remembered the picture. “Oh, Jamie, give me your phone! He has to see the picture!”

Jamie followed orders, pulling up the picture and handing the phone to Claire. She beamed as she handed over the phone to Ian, explaining how she found it. He stared at it in disbelief before dissolving in a fit of laughter. “Goodness. I canna believe this exists. How funny. Has Jenny seen this?”

Jamie nodded. “Aye, she told me to show it to ye. She probably didna want ye takin yer eyes off the road while driving.”

Ian kept staring at the picture of him and his wife as small children. As he handed the phone back to Claire, his finger accidentally swiped to the next picture. Claire’s breath caught in her throat at the picture of her and Jamie on the fence. She didn’t remember him taking a photo of that as well. Fighting a smile, she swiped back to the wedding picture and handed it back to Jamie.

Claire turned back to Ian, trying to refocus her mind. “Okay, so forgive me for being incredibly intrusive, but I just have to ask.”

“How did I end up marrying Jenny?” Ian asked with a smirk.

Claire laughed. “Yes, exactly! How did that happen?”

Ian settled back into the couch, getting comfortable to tell a long story. He smiled fondly as he recalled how it happened. “Well I was always rather taken with Jenny. Even when we were kids. She was a girl and I was supposed to think she was gross, but I didna. She impressed me. Not that I didn’t enjoy spending time wi just ye and Jamie, but it always excited me when Jenny decided to play wi us as well. When I was a teen, I’d make jokes to her about when we would be together or something stupid like that. She always scoffed or brushed it off or straight up told me I was an idiot. I was ne’er disrespectful. Or at least I assume I never crossed a line because then Jamie would have pummeled me.”

“That’s true, I would have,” Jamie said as he nodded.

Ian laughed as he went on. “So when I was 18, I decided to enlist in the army. I was rather nervous to leave and the day before I shipped out, I jokingly said to Jenny to wait for me. It was more of the same stuff from before. She left the room and came back wi her rosary and told me to be safe and to come back. I didna really know what to make of it. I assumed it was just because I was the only one of the people in the village that was joining the army. Well I was gone for a year before I lost my leg in an incident,” he explained, patting his artificial limb. “The first person I saw when I struggled through the airport on crutches was Jenny. She was sobbing as she threw her arms around me. Somehow she beat my own mother to the punch. Well, she made sure I got to every physical therapy appointment I needed. She took care of me, more than I ever expected. When I asked her why she was doing so, she said “Because I want to dance with you at our wedding.” We’d never acknowledged the little joking comments I’d made to her. Of course I knew there was more to them and that I was mad for her. But I’d never in a million years expected her to return them. When she’d said that, I’d just thought she was teasing me the same way I teased her before. But then she pulled me in and kissed me and that was that. We never had to make anything official or whatever because we just knew we wanted to be together.”

Claire nearly gaped at Ian. That was one of the most beautiful stories she’d ever heard. “Wow. That’s quite a story. How long before you were married?”

“It was a couple of years. We got married a year or so after Mr. Fraser passed. We had already been engaged, but Jenny was grieving and so we waited till she was ready,” Ian explained.

She stole a glance over at Jamie. He bore a saddened expression. Claire understood the feeling. Just that morning she’d sobbed for her parents, after all. She thought maybe she’d try to bring the conversation back to a happy note. “It’s so wonderful that the two of you are so happy,” she said, interrupting the silence. “And that you have a family.”

Ian smiled, grabbing his phone to show her pictures. “Oh aye, we’re quite pleased with them.” He scrolled through pictures on his phone. There was Young Jamie, age 5, Maggie, age 3, Kitty, age 2, and Michael, age 1. They were certainly all close together. She laughed as he showed her a picture of Jamie with all four kids on his lap. He looked like a natural with them.

“You have such a beautiful family, Ian,” Claire said with a smile for him.

“Ah, thank ye. I feel quite blessed wi them,” Ian replied with a matching expression.

The subject eventually changed and they were catching up on other things. Ian and Jamie spoke of people they knew from Scotland. It wasn’t like at the party the night before though. Claire felt anything but left out of the conversation. She shared stories from her own life at their prompting. She was having a lovely evening catching up with another old friend.

It had been a few hours when Claire heard her phone ring across the room. She jumped up and ran to grab it. Her suspicions were right: it was Frank. Swiping quickly before the call ended, she answered the call. “Hey! Can you hold on just a second?” Frank agreed and Claire set the phone down on her purse. She walked over to where Ian sat on the couch. “I have to take that, so I’m going to head out. But it was so great to see you again! I’m so glad you’re doing well.”

Ian stood up to give Claire a hug. “I’m sorry you’re leaving. It was so wonderful to see you as well. You’ll have to stay in touch this time.”

Claire tilted her head and smiled. “Of course!” She walked over to Jamie and gave him a hug before leaving. “I’ll see you soon?”

Jamie nodded. “Hopefully,” he replied. “That’s more on you than me.”

She sighed but agreed. “You’re right. I’ll text you.”

“Sounds good! Let me know when you get home,” he requested.

She patted him on the arm. “Of course I will.” Walking back over to her things, she picked up her phone, purse, and jacket. She looked back at Jamie before she walked out the door. “Hey, thanks for a fun day.”

He smiled. “I could say the same.”

She nodded with decision and walked through the door, closing it behind her. Putting the phone back to her ear, she said, “Sorry about that, I was saying goodbye to some friends. How are you doing, Sweetheart?”

“I’m doing alright. I missed you so I thought I’d call you. Who were you spending time with?” Frank asked.

Claire hated the part of her that wondered if he was interrogating her. “Two friends that I knew back in Scotland.”

“Scotland? When were you in Scotland?”

Claire swallowed harshly as she walked out into the open air. “Remember, I lived there as a child?” He made a noncommittal sound. “Well anyway, they were two friends that I always used to play with when we were kids. One of them lives in London now and the other was visiting. It was nice to catch up.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you talk of these ladies,” Frank replied.

She debated lying for a second. “Yes, I have,” she insisted instead. “I’ve told you about Jamie.”

“It’s a man?” Frank asked, a harshness to his tone.

“Yes. Last I checked I was allowed to have male friends.”

“Claire, be realistic. I’m sure the only reason he spends time with you is because he wants to sleep with you,” Frank argued. “You need to be careful around men like him.”

“Men like him?” Claire repeated. “You don’t even know him. What kind of judgment is that? Are you only friends with women because you want to sleep with them? What about Candy from the history department?”

“You mean Sandy?” he asked, ignoring her question. “That’s nothing. We’re just friends.”

“Then why can’t I just be friends with Jamie?” Claire retorted.

“Whatever, Claire. It’s not like you’ll listen to me anyway,” Frank dismissed. “So other than spending time with the man, what did you do today?”

Claire was silent for a moment. She’d spent basically her whole day with Jamie. Frank wouldn’t appreciate knowing that. “Well I went through some of the boxes in my flat. I’m making more progress on getting unpacked.”

Frank started commenting on how she needed to be more prompt about things like that so she wasn’t living in a hovel. He continued talking but Claire was starting to tune him out. She reflected on the lovely day she’d had, trying to grasp at the way she’d felt all day, instead of the way her boyfriend was making her feel.

~~~

The door had just closed behind Claire when Ian began staring at Jamie with an odd expression. Jamie walked over to his kitchen to grab a couple of beers for the two of them. All the time, Ian remained silent but still bearing the expectant expression. “What?” Jamie finally asked.

“So what’s happening there?” Ian dug.

Jamie rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothing. I promise ye.”

“I canna say I believe ye, brother.”

“I can assure ye that nothing is happening between me and Claire. We’re only friends,” Jamie insisted.

Ian still shook his head, refusing to believe Jamie. “I’m sorry but that’s not the way it seems seeing the two of ye together. Ye seem too close and too comfortable to be just friends.”

“It’ll never happen.”

It was Ian’s turn to roll his eyes. “And why are ye so sure of that?”

“That call she got that she left to take,” Jamie began to explain, “tis her boyfriend. Well, I could almost guarantee that’s who it was.”

Ian sighed disappointedly. “Oh.” He watched Jamie for a moment as he drank some of his beer. “So what’s her lad like?”

Jamie shrugged. “I dinna ken. I’ve never met the man.”

“You’ve never met him? That seems surprising.”

“This has only been the third time I’ve seen Claire since we reconnected. Besides, her boyfriend lives in Boston,” Jamie informed him.

“She’s doing the long distance thing?” Ian asked skeptically. Jamie nodded. “Well I hate to say it, but that probably won’t last.” Jamie shot him a disapproving look. “What? Ask most people who’ve done long distance. They say it doesna work.” Ian paused as he took another drink. “So is he moving here?” “I dinna believe so. She’s never said anything of the sort.”

Ian looked confused. “So is this a temporary move for her?”

Jamie shook his head. “She’s made it seem fairly permanent.”

“So how is that going to work then?” Ian exclaimed. “They canna be marrit living across the ocean permanently. This relationship won’t last if he doesna move her or she doesna move back.”

“She moved here because her uncle was sick. And then she stayed because she enjoyed being back in England,” Jamie explained. “But the man didna even help her move.”

Ian laughed loudly, then covered his mouth. “That was bad, I shouldna have laughed. But I have to say, that’s not a good sign. I dinna see this relationship lasting. I just hope Claire’s the one to toss the anchor.”

Jamie just shrugged, not feeling as though he had much to say on the matter. It annoyed him that Ian assumed they were together or that Jamie wanted to be with her. He enjoyed spending time with her, but they didn’t really know each other all that well again yet. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him of how easy it’s been each time he’s been around Claire. He shook his head to clear out the thought.

“And then if she does, ye should let her know ye’re interested,” Ian said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Who’s to say I am interested?” Jamie argued back.

“So what did you guys do today?”

“We went to lunch. She seemed interested in seeing ye after I mentioned ye’d be here this evening.”

A smile grew slowly across Ian’s face. “So the two of ye essentially spent the whole day together?”

Jamie opened his mouth to deny it, but it was true. They really had. From lunch to the market to errands. They’d even gotten dinner to bring back to his place. And it just felt natural spending all that time with Claire. Jamie couldn’t remember an instance where there was an uncomfortable silence or moment that dragged on awkwardly. He was just comfortable around her.

“Aye, I suppose we did,” Jamie agreed begrudgingly.

“See?” Ian replied annoyingly. “Ye may no be now, but I bet that one day soon, ye’ll be interested. I know ye, man.”

“I canna do that,” Jamie argued. “She’s my friend. I’ll respect the boundaries there. I value having her back in my life. I’m no going to drive her off by making some sort of advance.”

“I’m no saying that,” Ian defended. He paused for a moment, thinking. “Perhaps it came out that way but I didna mean it like that. The thing I really mean is that ye’ve been through hell, man. Ye deserve a woman like Claire. I think she’d be good for ye. And ye for her. And that’s just from the amount of time I spent with the two of ye this evening.” He fixed Jamie with a meaningful stare. “Look, just make me one promise.” Jamie nodded for him to continue. “If the time comes where she becomes single again and ye examine yer feelings and realize ye do want to be more than her friend, promise me ye’ll actually tell her.”

Jamie sighed, leaning back in his chair. The situation Ian presented seemed ridiculous. But it also seemed too good to be true. Jamie was fairly certain that time would never come. Ian kept staring at him expectantly. With a huff, Jamie leaned forward and held out his hand to shake Ian’s.

“I promise.”

Next chapter

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #if after all these years you'd like to meet

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grandmasterofwangxiancultivation · 5 years

Text

you, basking in moonlight, making my blood sing

i did it again, yessssss. ot3 just calls me and i answer right away! due to my life being in its graduation process i am a bit absent and can’t tend to this blog as often as before, so i can’t wait to get my degree (less than two weeks left asjfpiwekfopwekfw) and come back to fangirl here *^*

in the meantime, as i was saying, i wrote more.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Rating: Teen and Up Audience Pairing: OT3! Jin Ling/Lan SiZhui/Lan JingYi Additional tags: canon Universe, polyamory, disciples ot3, fluff, jin ling trying to flirt, my son grows up so fast- Summary: Jin Ling’s skin tingled at the awareness, so much that he couldn’t meet their eyes while his body came alive, his nerves sparkling with tension and anticipation, his limbs weighting more than they should. He felt sluggish and unfocused -no, that didn’t sound right, it was more like his focus was completely drawn by JingYi and SiZhui.

(Oh, he loved this.

He wanted their attention for himself.) -- Jin Ling seeks attention. He gets a bit more than what he can handle. a.k.a Jin Ling trying to kinda-maybe seduce SiZhui and JingYi -but let's remember who's the Lan boys' teacher.

Read under the cut or ao3.

Jin Ling sheathed Suihua and let his shoulders drop a bit, relishing in the cool breeze that brushed his heated cheeks and blew his hair off his field of vision. No threatening noises came from the area all around them, and the disciples breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing further and slapping palms over backs, grinning enthusiastically at each other.

They were skilled, no doubt about that, and Jin Ling could see the smile of approval on Lan SiZhui’s face, the way his eyes shone with unconstrained pride when they fell on each of his shidis. The hunt went well, no one got hurt and the group of young Lan disciples performed better than the Lanling boy expected, seeing as they all seemed a bit afraid just a couple of days prior. He had felt slightly disappointed when he had seen SiZhui and JingYi greet him at the outskirt of the town where they were going to stay with their disciples in tow -he also got pretty flustered at his own thoughts, refusing to recognise what he was feeling as some sort of unreasonable possessive streak, as if he was that childish to begin with.

(He probably was, though, fully knowing how whatever linked him and them was strong enough to eat his thoughts alive when they were not with him and trail under his skin when they were close, itching for him to-)

Now, he was glad the disciples were here, bringing that joyful glim in SiZhui’s eyes, stretching JingYi’s mouth in a smile as he rubbed their heads, messing their hair and laughing at their protests. The adoration in those shidis’ expressions, though, was blatant, and Jin Ling couldn’t grumble at them for it -he had to lock that silly, immature feeling in a corner of his brain and enjoy the moment.

The large group went back to the inn, walking tidily along the street that separated them from their destination. The sun was setting behind the mountains on the far background, tinting the sky with warm hues of reds, oranges and yellows, the darker colors of the night ready to swallow everything.

Light was still enough to allow them to see where they were going, but Lan SiZhui didn’t want to keep the disciples out that night -not after their non-stop wandering the previous days-, granting them a much needed pause.

Jin Ling could see he loved taking care of those shidis -the thought suddenly evoking another well esteemed shixiong of his knowledge, making shivers crawl up his arms and a frown mark his forehead.

Over the years, his relationship with Wei WuXian got better, even though he couldn’t bring himself to call him uncle or anything of the sort -most of the times, he just avoided calling his name. He couldn’t deny that, aside from whatever he had heard about him growing up, Wei WuXian was good, and it made him grit his teeth with frustration even now, when the man’s presence had already rooted itself in his life. The same comforting feeling he exuded, that protective bubble he seemed to gather everyone in even when it wasn’t necessary -he could see such a trait in SiZhui, too, and he liked it a lot.

Which would probably seem creepy, given that he was looking into resemblances between his not-related-by-blood uncle and one of the boy he kissed.

His frown deepened.

“Psss.”

Jin Ling turned his head sideway, eyes landing on JingYi, who was a couple of step farther, trying to gain his attention. When he succeeded, he smiled, a glint of triumph sparkling in his gaze, and his steps slowed, letting the disciples walk ahead of him so that he could catch up with Jin Ling’s stride.

“Why do you always look so deep in thoughts when you’re alone?”

“People think when they don’t have others pestering them. Maybe you’re not accustomed to doing it?”

The glint from before intensified, and JingYi pouted.

“Ah, mistress, you wound me! How are you so cruel with such a pretty face…”

“You-!” Jin Ling hissed behind gritted teeth, imposing his blood not to rush to his cheeks and give JingYi even more satisfaction. But the Lan boy burst out laughing, drawing unwanted attention on them, disciple whispering and chuckling at the habitual display -as if seeing the young Lanling Jin Sect Leader and their JingYi shixiong fight over things was by now a common occurrence for them.

“Anyway, I didn’t come here to bother you. Come on, come on!” he said, circling Jin Ling’s wrist with his fingers and dragging him away from the scene they were causing, avoiding the entrance of the inn. Jin Ling stuck his feet on the ground, managing to only slow him down -curse Lan Sect’s infamous arm strength!-, and JingYi casted him an impatient gaze, one that made Jn Ling’s stomach topple.

“W-wait, where are we going?! What if SiZhui needs us?!” he protested, but let himself be pulled forward with less resistance.

“Don’t worry, he is in his mama bear mode, let him fuss on his children!”

“C-children-”

“Eeh, what are you imagining, silly boy~”

Jin Ling yelled at him all the insults he could find, flushing in annoyance at the other’s laugh.

JingYi lured him around the building, to the back side of the inn, out of earshot. Jin Ling didn’t even have the time to realise what was happening -he was hastily pressed against the wall, a movement that made him close his eyes and lose balance. Reopening them, ready to curse at JingYi, revealed to be the worst and best idea he had in the span of a few seconds.

Too close, he thought, far from irritated, heart in his throat, bracing his body weight against the support at his back. JingYi’s eyes were almost in line with his, the centimeters Jin Ling had on him that usually secretly gave him a pleasant feeling of control gone, lost in his bent knees and the boy’s towering form in front of him.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since this morning” he murmured, smirk adorning his tempting lips, space between them getting reduced more and more until JingYi’s hands where at either side of Jin Ling’s head and the Lanling boy couldn’t look at nothing but him. His irises were shining with that barely restrained something that he could feel deeply mirrored into him, like a herd of bagui bouncing in his gut. For a moment, Jin Ling didn’t know how to breathe, let alone speak.

(Oh, he couldn’t fool himself even if he wanted to, he loved the feeling of being wanted like that.)

JingYi closed the short distance, mouth brushing against his, smiling deviously when he felt the young Sect Leader shiver.

“W-what are you doing?”

That was such a dumb thing to ask, do you want JingYi to make fun of you even more?, he chastised, slapping himself virtually so that he could gather his focus back. His eyes captured the shadows on the Lan boy’s face, obscured by their position -Jin Ling was basked in moonlight, JingYi, by contrast, all dark angles and shadowed of skin-, marveling in the way the always fairly dressed, pristine, exuberant young man now seemed like a creature of the night, casted in penumbra, pale complexion complimented by the darkness cascading on them.

JingYi was breathtaking, and Jin Ling would never give him the satisfaction to hear him say it.

“I’m trying to kiss you” he replied, simple as that, as if his heart wasn’t beating like crazy and he wasn’t sweating nervously and he couldn’t swallow the knot in his throat like Jin Ling in that moment. The Lanling boy hated how smug and natural JingYi appeared about this.

“Just like that? What a romantic” he played then, shoulders dropping against the wall and chin lifting in arrogance. As if he would make him win that easily.

JingYi chuckled. He raised his left hand and took a lock of Jin Ling’s hair between his fingers, stroking it softly -like he knew it was his weak spot-, every nerve in him sparkling alive at the indirect touch. “Who knew this mistress wanted to be courted like a true maiden- ouch!”

Jin Ling punched him on his right shoulder, lips tight, limbs pulling him in so that he could kiss that superior attitude out of him.

“Let’s see who is the true maiden” he provoked, eyelids half dropping warily, even though he knew that would only please him more. At this point, Jin Ling didn’t even know if his own aim was to win or lose to him.

“Ah, stop being so beautiful, mistress, you’ll make me faint” JingYi jokingly accused him, palm flush on his chest, pressing where his heart was as if it was really hurting.

Jin Ling struggled not to roll his eyes in the air.

“Stop. Calling. Me. That” he spelled out, swiftly grasping the flaps of his robe and tightening his hold. “You are absolutely terrible at this” he added, searching that same glint he knew JingYi had in his eyes everytime he looked at him -he didn’t even have to try that hard, contentment burning in the Lan boy’s expression in such an open way no one would miss it.

“Mmh” he acknowledged, getting his hair tangled with his fingers, knuckles casually grazing the heated skin of his cheeks. “Is that why you’re turning red?”

At that, Jin Ling couldn’t conceal his frustration -awareness made him even more irked. He drew JingYi in and when their lips met, he closed his eyes.

He was still getting used to the sensation of being so in tune with someone, so close to them that he craved for physical contact. He was too prideful to start anything most of the time, so he loved the moments when they sought him out like that -as if he was their favorite prey, as if they couldn’t last long before looking for him. It made him feel shameful, and for a long time he had been so sure that there was something wrong in him for it, for how right wanting to be with them felt, exhilarating and nothing short of everything he had always wanted.

JingYi’s lips were chapped and full, pressing in earnest against his without hesitation, shoving him flush against the wall with the sudden intensity of it. Jin Ling’s breath stuttered in his throat, the rhythm of his heartbeat picking up at once when he instinctively threaded his fingers through his hair, coercing a moan out of JingYi’s covered mouth at the pressure, and pulled his face even more on his own.

The way the Lan boys kissed were as different as their own personalities. SiZhui always made him set the pace, patient and gentle in his touches, where JingYi had nothing of that. He was expecting Jin Ling’s rushed move and faced it the same way he fought -throwing himself at it with all he had, letting each touch, each stroke of skin, each gasp call the next action naturally, giving in to his desire.

His mouth was demanding, the force of it driving Jin Ling to a increasingly rapid pace and making him tremble in reflex, as if one of JingYi’s mocking laughs was shivering against his lips. He met him with the same firm determination, kissing him in a way that had his own legs quiver under his weight, opening his mouth at JingYi’s prying tongue, grasping at his shoulder when he felt like he couldn’t brace himself against the wall any longer.

The Lan boy’s hands soon sneaked into his robes, past the side rips of his tunic and around his waist, chest to chest, fingers sinking into the fabric while wishing for it to be gone. Jin Ling could feel their impatience growing steadily in his bones, his body asking for more, each nerve singing under JingYi’s ministration, relishing in the way the boy held him tighter and tighter, pressing him against the wall until he couldn’t breathe properly and keeping on feeling those lips tracing his in hunger, devouring and claiming his own at every flip of tongue, every bite, every moan Jin Ling wouldn’t know how to contain even if he knew it’d the proper thing to do -right then, it simply was the last thing he cared about.

They ended up kissing for a while, minutes stretching in an endless dream they didn’t want to wake up from. At a certain point they slowed down, inhaling as much air as they could, and Jin Ling flipped them over, pinning one of JingYi’s wrist against the building previously behind him, both swaying with the motion, panting loudly, irises languid with pleasure upon meeting each other.

He caged his face between his other hand and plunged right onto JingYi’s lips without thinking, like he couldn’t live another second without feeling the boy’s mouth on his like that -even though their lips were bruised, sore, red like camellia petals, the taste almost bloody but so, so intoxicating.

JingYi’s moan made him trembled, the words he whispered (mmh, I like it when you get all assertive on m-) instantly suppressed by a clumsy, confused kiss before Jin Ling realised what he had done.

He came back to his senses when the other boy’s eyes, languid and glittering in mirk, blinked at him from behind his lashes, making him hyper aware of what he had done, of how his entire body tingled and shuddered, his numb mind protesting against the widening distance between them. He already ached for those touches and kisses caressing his body in such a hasty, passionate way -needed it all over again, which he knew, somewhere in his head, to be a bad idea.

Red started tinting his cheeks and neck rapidly after that, so Jin Ling’s face sinked in the hollow of JingYi’s neck, the Lanling boy’s heating skin warming him and making him laugh. He patted his nape, murmuring some reassuring word, fully knowing that wasn’t the right moment to tease him about that.

When they went back, a bunch of disciples rolled their eyes and chuckled at the two late comers, soon commenting at the usual bickering protests coming from them.

“How are they always like this? Why do they fight so much?”

“I don’t get why Lan shixiong keeps inviting Jin Sect Leader if he ends up arguing with him like that.”

That kind of talk went on for a bit, up until Lan JingYi and Jin Ling were about to settle down next to Lan SiZhui.

“Ehy” someone, one of the bravest among the disciples, called from the table where they were all gossiping. “Lan shixiong! Did you stay out to fight? Don’t you get tired of always doing that?”

The others looked at him like he was crazy, ushering him and throwing worried glances at Lan SiZhui, hoping he wouldn’t be angry over that comment, but Lan JingYi replied with a huge grin before anyone could say anything about it.

“Not really.”

Jin Ling gritted his teeth and hid his blushing face behind a hand, averting his gaze with a pointed stare.

Only few disciples wondered why Jin Sect Leader was so flustered or JingYi’s face seemed so dumbstruck the moment he turned to look at him. Lan SiZhui smirked, and called everyone over for dinner.

Going to sleep at their same hour, his body learned fast to wake up when they did. He was growing accustomed to their weird and healthy habit, noticing how much better he felt when he rose from bed at the same time every morning after just a couple of days.

Back at Koi Tower, Jin Ling had too many things to do to bask in the luxury of resting at such an early hour, the stress of dealing with the families close to his position as head of the Sect not enough appeased by his uncle’s presence -his jiujiu was a great help and support with the most complicated aspect his role implied, but the bearers of the white peony sometimes glowered at him, partly unnerved by the persisting appearance of an outsider, and a Sect Leader at that.

Too much was on his plate and paradoxically he had to join a night hunt party to feel at peace with himself again.

He stretched up a bit, sighed, parted his eyes open slowly.

Waking up on a bed too full for its size would have bothered Jin Ling a great deal, had it not been for its current occupants. The light gently filtered through the window, not as intense as to be blamed of having woken him up, but enough to justify the movements on the mattress, so careful they barely bothered him -though he sensed it all, he wasn’t a promising cultivator for nothing. Beside, being a de facto Sect Leader at his young age, he taught himself to always be alert, which was why, relaxed as he had been until a couple of minutes prior, he was already rousing from slumber.

So yes, right then and there, the crowded bed thing didn’t annoy him. On the contrary, he was thrilled, content, and proceeded to snuggle more against the pillow, cracking an eye open only minutes after out of curiosity.

The room was still mostly bathed in shadows, heavy curtains shielding them from part of the timid rays of morning light, but Jin Ling was pretty sure Gusu waking time had already passed, explaining why the two Lan were up and about. They probably kept them mostly shut for him, to let him sleep a bit more, and from his lips a deep, pleased sigh slipped through, alerting the boys of his state.

He could have closed his eyes and feigned sleep, let their roaming eyes check on him and see if he had really woken up or not -but Jin Ling was too eager, suddenly, too concentrated on contemplating them to divert his gaze from where they stood.

Lan SiZhui was the first to smile at him, making his pulse jump in response.

“Good Morning, A-Ling. Did we wake you up?”

Both Lan boys were busy preparing themselves for the day, it seemed, even though they were still in their inner robe. SiZhui’s hair was already done, his ponytail shifting elegantly on his back when he turned to check on Jin Ling and found him awake. His fingers were intertwined with JingYi’s hair, intent on arranging it in his usual hairstyle.

Lan JingYi yawned, sending him a lazy grin from the reflection on the mirror.

“What woke you up so early, did you miss us?”

“Would that be strange?”

Jin Ling’s lips parted before he could think of keeping that thought for himself, and he echoed JingYi’s yawn, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Peeking at them in the meantime, he saw the comb in SiZhui’s hand halt and the way both of them looked at him through the reflection in the mirror.

His cheeks reddened a bit, a corner of his head cursing him for his lack of filters, and he smoothed his expression in a plain one, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Their gazes, thought, burned of him and made him squirm on the bed while he tried to sit up and abandon it -he didn’t want to appear like the lazy one, even when he loved lingering on the comfy surface under their watchful stare.

Jin Ling’s skin tingled at the awareness, so much that he couldn’t meet their eyes while his body came alive, his nerves sparkling with tension and anticipation, his limbs weighting more than they should. He felt sluggish and unfocused -no, that didn’t sound right, it was more like his focus was completely drawn by JingYi and SiZhui.

(Oh, he loved this.

He wanted their attention for himself.)

So Jin Ling got up, slowly, stumbling a bit, and then proceeded to reach with his arms above his head, stretching them as long and thoroughly as he could, shoulders rolling subtly in the process to make his inner robe slip slightly, not enough for him to borderline indecence or have to make himself conscious of it and fix it under the Lan boys’ eyes.

He didn’t look at them, still, feigned it all the way. He searched for his hair garments and found them on the little bedside table on the left, took them without a word and sat on the side of the bed. He gathered his hair on one shoulder and lifted his gaze while threading his fingers through his locks, pouting as he looked at SiZhui.

“It’s so unfair, I want SiZhui to take care of my hair, too”

They were watching him. Both of them had turned and given him their undivided attention -that was why Jin Ling could swear he saw SiZhui swallow and JingYi more awake than a couple of seconds before, fingers clenching on SiZhui’s hand on his shoulder.

Jin Ling lowered his eyelids, waiting for an answer.

He tilted his head to the side a bit and crossed his legs when he didn’t get one.

“So?” he prompted, nervous at the lack of response but unable to display it as a weakness -his heart shrank in his chest when they looked at each other in helplessness.

“What?” he kept going, trying to suppress the uneasiness his mind projected on the situation. “Did I break another Lan rule or something? You don’t want to?”

“No!” SiZhui burst out suddenly, cheeks reddening suspiciously, making Jin Ling jump in surprise.

“S-sorry. It’s not a problem at all!” SiZhui replied quickly, smiling sheepishly at Jin Ling’s frown and going back to neatly style JingYi’s hair in a high ponytail, brushing his cheek with his knuckles as he fixed the lock framing his face. JingYi caught SiZhui’s fingers with his own and drove them to his lips, mumbling a thank you against his skin and rising on his feet to press another kiss on SiZhui lips.

He took him by the hand and dragged him where Jin Ling was, taking his hair garments from his hold.

At Jin Ling’s startled expression, he winked and said: “I’ll keep these while SiZhui fixes you hair, it looks like you have a nest on your head!”

“That’s not true!”

SiZhui giggled, asking Jin Ling to turn around so that he can get to work, and the Lanling boy smiled, content and grateful, palm sneaking around SiZhui’s neck and bringing him down to kiss him.

He loved the taste of SiZhui’s lips. Somehow, they were always soft and savoury to the point of making him crave for more, as if he had coated them of aphrodisiac that made him lose every semblance of rationality.

He bit onto the lower one, indulged in the way his teeth sank and the lip swelled up around them, then gently let go, licking his lips to preserve that sensation. SiZhui followed after him in reflex, stopping a second later, expression dreamy and hungry.

It was Jin Ling’s turn to swallow.

After that he obeyed, giving him his back, and in an instant JingYi’s head plopped on his lap, eyes covered by his arm. Jin Ling huffed, but relaxed immediately when SiZhui’s fingers gathered his hair and started untangling every lock before using the comb.

“What are you doing?” he whispered to JingYi, unconsciously toning his voice down, a part of him feeling hyperaware of the strange tension in the room.

(He knew he ached for that same tension to snap and drown the three of them.)

JingYi hummed lightly. He lowered his limb and looked at him, glinting irises and pink ears telling Jin Ling more than his words could.

“You should warn a man before doing something like that, Jin Ling. Aren’t you being too cheeky?” he said, slyly sulking and looking up at him.

“I disagree. I pretty much like his surprise attack” SiZhui argued, fingertips grazing lightly over Jin Ling’s neck, making goosebumps crawl all over his arms and back. He had to bit his lower lip and prevent his throat from letting any kind of noise out.

He was definitely doing it on purpose.

When JingYi grinned, Jin Ling knew he had noticed, too.

The Lan boy with the head on his lap took his hand and moved it closer to his mouth, his irises smiling mischievously at him when his lips came in contact with them, lavishing every digit with care and attention. Every kiss left a tickling sensation on the tender skin, body growing numb when SiZhui moved even closer, the warmth at Jin Ling’s back as much distracting and pleasant as the one on his lap.

His mouth parted, eyes lost on the movement of JingYi’s lips, his nerves shuddering at the hypnotic rhythm SiZhui kept brushing his hair. It was good, too good, too comfy and slow and not enough, the way they caged him so naturally and without him even noticing and how exhilarating it felt -he couldn’t try and imagine how it’d feel if they didn’t stop at that, or else Jin Ling’s brain would implode right there and then.

Instead, he touched upon JingYi’s lower lip gently, heat trailing up his face at his own bold gesture.

“D-didn’t I kiss you enough yesterday? You are demanding too much!”

“As if I would ever have enough of you” JingYi smoothly rebutted, nuzzling the palm of the Lanling boy’s hand teasingly lapping at it with the tip of his tongue. The act had his hand spasm and his shoulders quivering -his body far from being disgusted by it-, the fingers between his hair making it hard for him to feel riled up in a way that didn’t involve him desiring more.

“SiZhui, please tell him to stop provoking me!”

“What a prissy princess…” the other retorted, finally letting go of his hand.

“If I am so prissy, stop using me as your personal pillow!”

“Why, is it okay for you to use me like that but when it comes to me I can’t?!”

Their bickering seemed to clear the air from tautness that hovered over them -Jin Ling mourned it, but he knew it wasn’t the right time. His voice didn’t feel as loud as it usually would be during his insult-matched with JingYi, probably thanks to SiZhui’s wonderful touch. He could easily get addicted to it, the deftness and regard with which his fingers threaded through his locks felt so soothing and comfortable it made him drunk and drowsy, like he could fall asleep in a moment.

It was perfect - they were perfect, and somehow, they were perfect for him.

“Doesn’t A-Ling like it, though?”

Those words and a pulling sensation on his head shook him from his lethargy.

“What?”

SiZhui’s fingers grazed over his jaw, tipping his head back until Jin Ling could see him upside down.

“Doesn’t A-Ling like it when we spoil or provoke him?”

Jin Ling’s eyes grew wide and his breath stumbled in his throat, mouth gaping open and words eluding him. He knew -of course he knew, he was SiZhui, but being bared like that had his heart beating like crazy.

The weight on his lap left, but he barely sensed it when SiZhui’s face dipped, careful not to bump on the tip of his nose with his chin. Then, he kissed him, nice and slow, taking his time with Jin Ling’s lips as if he was savouring them.

“Mh? What’s A-Ling’s reply?” he asked again, so close that question was puffed right on his shaking mouth.

“Yes” Jin Ling mumbled, without thinking, head spinning -a gasp leaving him when another pair of lips found his neck.

“No surprise there” JingYi commented, tone eager and husky, the Lanling boy’s toes curling in response.

Everything was over in a matter of seconds -SiZhui fixed the locks framing his face and kissed the tip of his nose before stepping back, hands steady on Jin Ling’s shoulders to keep the boy from falling back, and JingYi lingered a few moments more, tempted to leave a mark on the immaculate expanse of Jin Ling’s collarbone but deciding against it, restricting himself to a simple brush of his lips.

He had been defeated.

While Jin Ling tried to breathe properly again, he thought he was glad for the bed under him -he would have probably toppled over for the strain, that much was for sure. He had been certain he had everything figured out, up until the point he realised they had started playing his own game and ended up winning without trouble.

“Come on, our cute disciples should be already up. SiZhui doesn’t like to keep them waiting!” JingYi declared, eyeing the other with a knowing glance and poking at him with his elbow.

“We are responsible for them, I don’t want them to feel neglected” was the answer, tone wavering and tentative as if SiZhui was overconscious of his own behaviour. JingYi and Jin Ling exchanged a look, both of them thinking how cute that reaction of his was.

And that was it, Jin Ling thought, leaving the mattress and moving closer to the door where the two Lan boys were waiting for him.

In his heart, all the teasing and lingering gazes felt more like victory than defeat.

Better, they felt like a promise.

#the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs fic #my mdzs writing #my writing #lan jingyi #lan sizhui #jin ling #zhuilingyi

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queenofcats17 · 5 years

Text

Almost An Angel

I recently drew a sona for Hymns of Struggle, and now I want to write it.

Hymns of Struggle belongs to @pipesflowforeverandever

She wasn’t an angel.

Specifically, she wasn’t Alice Angel. Sure, she had some of the features of the toon, like the halo and the dress, but she was altogether incomplete. She only had one horn, one glove, and one proper leg, and her halo was embedded in her head. Her other leg was basically a pillar of ink while her other arm almost resembled a wing, despite basically being another dripping ink mass. The majority of her body was covered in ink, although various patches of yellow skin were visible. Sometimes her mouth was freed from the ink, revealing that her lips were permanently black, as though she were wearing black lipstick. Only one eye was ever visible, although it was only really a glowing orb. All of her was drippy, from her dress to her hair (if one could even call the ink on her head that) to the ink covering her body.

She wasn’t a particularly remarkable ink creature. She had enough sapience to hold her form and sort of had an identity, but her form was far from perfect and she didn’t remember too much about who she’d been before falling into the ink. She certainly wasn’t any Alice. She could sing, but not nearly as well as Susie or Allison. She couldn’t dance all that well, but she wasn’t afraid to try even if she looked silly. She couldn’t fight. Well, she could. She could swing an ax or a pipe. But only with one hand. All in all, though, she was just sort of...there. Another lost soul in the sea of souls.

Joey watched her sometimes, for what reason he wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was just to torture himself. Because he knew what had happened to her was his fault. She was an innocent in this matter. An outsider. Whoever she’d been, she’d come to the studio out curiosity. She’d said something about a blog post, but it was possible he’d misheard her. He’d seen her enter and wander around. He’d seen her fall prey to the Ink Demon. It hadn’t taken long. She’d decided to turn on the machine and the demon had pounced, dragging into the puddles. The machine had spat her out in the form she currently possessed, half-formed and imperfect.

Sometimes, she wondered who she’d been before this place. She had no memories of her past life. She’d simply woken up in the studio one day, fully formed and strange. Others she’d met had tapes with their voices on them, tapes showing who they’d once been. She didn’t have any tapes with her voice on them. The people with the tapes had worked at the studio from what she could tell. So she probably hadn’t worked there. She would have liked to talk about her thoughts with someone, but there weren’t very many people to talk to.

The Alice on the lower floors didn’t like her all that much, screaming that she was a false angel. The Borises couldn’t really talk, and they avoided her anyway. She’d tried to talk to Norman a few times, but the Projectionist wasn’t interested in conversation. The Butcher Gang were pretty out of the question. She didn’t even think they could talk. She’d never met Joey in person, the studio keeping her away from him. She thought he sounded nice from the tapes, though. Sammy was pretty much the only person she’d ever talked to. He tolerated her most of the time, but she could tell he found her to be a bit irritating sometimes. Most of their conversations involved him telling her to have faith in their Lord. She didn’t really know what that meant and she didn’t have any real interest in worshipping a cartoon demon.

Still, he seemed like he knew what he was talking about. He called her “little lamb” most of the time. She liked that. It felt special. Her own special little nickname. Especially since she didn’t really have a name. Well, she had a name, she just didn’t remember what it was. She was pretty sure it started with an F. That sounded right to her. F and then an I or an E. Fee sounded good or F-i said like fee. People had called her that before, she was sure of it. She could almost hear a young woman calling her that. The rest of her name was too hard to figure out, especially her last name. She got the idea that it was something rather strange and hard to pronounce, at least for other people.

Fi spent a lot of time in the animation department, writing down everything that came into her mind. Her handwriting was terrible, and it was strange writing with only four fingers, but she could read it. She wasn’t sure how much of it was her own life, though. She’d definitely never been a child in Victorian London, that was for sure. She thought maybe she’d been a writer. That would explain all the strange things she “remembered”. A lot of the things that passed through her mind were things that couldn’t possibly be real. Angels, demons, gods, magic. There was no way any of that was from her own life. She kept her papers in one of the animation desks. She was the only one who ever really went up there. She drew sometimes too. She liked drawing, even if she couldn’t only draw with her fingers and ink.

More than anything, she wanted to share the stories she remembered. Alice didn’t want to hear her stories, but Sammy listened. She couldn’t tell if he was actually interested, but he listened. He didn’t give her a lot of feedback on them, which was disappointing. She knew his mind was elsewhere. He had to keep up his devotion Bendy in order to be saved, or so he said. Fi didn’t really believe in Bendy the way Sammy did. They both knew this. But she liked helping him. She got lonely easily and liked spending time with him. He’d been delighted upon discovering she could play the violin. They were both less delighted with she pointed out she couldn’t really do the fingerings due to her lack of a defined left hand.

He sent Fi to put up Bendy cutouts in Alice’s domain a lot. She seemed convinced that she could somehow make friends with Alice. Despite her status as a ‘false angel’, Fi was slowly getting Alice to warm up to her. Although, it wasn’t like Alice was going to admit it. But she didn’t yell if Fi wandered into her domain. Fi liked doing things for her as well, leading Alice to often ask her to fetch ink hearts for her or exterminate Butcher Gang members. Fi did whatever Alice asked short of getting extra thick ink. She started crying whenever she was tasked with taking ink from the Swollen Searchers. Fi had a soft heart, apparently.

Fi liked helping people, she’d found. It made her feel good to make people smile, or at least make the Hell they found themselves in a little more bearable. She did have moments of darkness, though. Whoever she’d been before this, she’d definitely struggled with her mental demons. No matter how happy or cheerful she tried to be, there would always be days when she’d wake up and just find herself miserable. When these days came, she’d just lay on the ground and do nothing. Sammy left her alone during these days. The first few times he’d discovered her in this state, he’d told her not to despair, as Bendy would save them. She’d given a vaguely affirmative grunt and hadn’t move. He hadn’t tried that approach again.

Fi avoided talking about their predicament most of the time, but she was always thinking about it. Occasionally, her thoughts just...slipped out. Like when Sammy was putting up cutouts in the entrance to the Heavenly Toys area. She’d tagged along, mostly because she was feeling lonely again.

“Why don’t I have a tape?” She asked. Sammy looked up from the cutout. She couldn’t see his face behind the mask, so it was hard to tell how he was feeling.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” He replied.

“Everyone else has tapes.” She said. “Why don’t I have one?”

“I don’t believe you ever worked here.” Sammy turned back to his cutout. “You simply wandered in one day.”

“Oh...” She frowned slightly. She’d known that, but it was still disappointing. The tapes told you things about people. About who they’d once been. She wanted to know who she used to be.

The two of them were quiet for a long time.

“Did you see me before I became like this?” Her voice was quiet. She didn’t know what she’d looked like before, but she knew her body was wrong. Being so thin felt unnatural to her. Sure, her skeletal form gave her the illusion of an hourglass figure, but she didn’t like it. She thought she’d been soft once, squishy and nice to cuddle with.

“I did not.” Sammy shook his head.

“Okay.” She nodded slowly. She wanted to fidget, but she couldn’t really do it when she only had one proper hand. She also had a desire to bounce her right leg, but couldn't since it was a pillar of ink.

Sammy glanced back at her, sensing her sudden shift in mood.

“Have faith, my little lamb.” He said. “Our Lord will set us free.”

“If you say so...” She didn’t completely believe him. But she wanted to. She wanted to get out of here. She wanted to be alright.

Only when Francine arrive did she really begin to believe that they could get out somehow.

#bendy and the ink machine #hymns of struggle #fanfiction #sammy lawrence #alice angel #malice angel #susie campbell #joey drew #the ink demon

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narekashi · 6 years

Text

Ikemen Revolution guys playing Volleyball

Have I ever told anyone that I love Haikyuu here? And yes, I am willing to give money to make season 4 of Haikyuu.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Chance ball!"

The red, green and white striped ball flew up in the air to the red side. Edgar who was at the back bend down his body a bit to position himself before sending the ball up into the air again to Kyle.

"Man why do I have to do this." Kyle disgruntled at playing such a vigorous sport. He positioned himself under the ball and looked at the set of temporary spikers for the game.

"Zero!" The red hair shouted and tossed to Zero who was all the way at the other side of the court. Zero who was running jumped up and spiked the ball with his right hand. The ball would have made it through and scored a point for the black army but as the ball was going to reach the floor, Ray dived down and received it just in time for the ball to go up again.

"Sorry!" Ray shouted as he tried to get on his knees quickly. Luka moved to where the ball was and did an underhand receive to pass to Seth aka their setter.

"Thank your Luka!" Seth hollered with a smile. He glanced at the other side of the net to see Lancelot and Jonah ready to block Fenrir and on the other side with Edgar and Zero ready to block Sirius.

"Over here!" Fenrir shouted to Seth, calling for a toss.

"Here!" Sirius shouted, calling for the toss too.

Who will he use? Kyle thought at the back, preparing in case the ball go through their blocks.

Unfortunately, Seth jumped up and little and pushed the onto the other side of the net himself. Kyle tried to dive receive the ball but it had already bounced and touched the ball before he could.

"One point to Black Army!" MC yelled, drawing another tally line on the black army side of the blackboard. She took a step behind to review the scores again: Black and Red were now tied with 23 with whoever getting the next point going for match point now.

"Alice you truly bring some fascinating things for the Black and Red army to play during your visit to Cradle don't you?" Blanc chuckled as he poured more tea into two cups, one of him and one for her. He normally wouldn't interfere with such things but seeing as he did almost nothing and as a job as Cradle's official record keeper, he decided to tag along.

"Well it's a sort of way to bond the armies together I guess. Rather than peace treaties, I thought maybe some friendly competition would be better." MC shrugged as she sipped a drink from the tea cup before averting her attention back to the armies.

"Jeez why didn't you try to hit the ball upwards Edgar. We all know you have long arms so why not use them for a good use," Kyle grumbled and casted a lazy glare to the smiling Jack.

"If I did it would have gone to the Black's side and we would have to block them again. Right now we are at the opportunity to get into match point so why not save some energy just for the next point?" Edgar gave his usual winning smile and clapped his hands together. "If they get into match point next, let's just make them wear out their energy more than us! That Ace of Spades seems to be feeling the pressure in his legs now due to our previous onslaught of spikes don't you think?"

Everyone turned to the other side of the net to see the Black Army huddled together. Fenrir who was standing under a tree was sweating quite a lot, the reason would be him doing receives, spikes and blocks all at the same time to let his other team mates have more energy but it seemed the others weren't having all that much energy either.

"Seth do you think you can set lesser to Fenrir? He looks like he can collapse anytime soon." Sirius pointed behind him to the gasping Fenrir who was breathing heavily.

"I can still move around! I'll be fine!" Fenrir protested and moved away from the tree. The moment he tried to step forwards, his vision doubled and he couldn't help falling backwards, hitting the ground if not for Luka who grabbed onto both of his arms and pulled Fenrir to him.

"You're tired Fenrir. Just let us do the rest of the work and you stay focused on receiving at the back okay?" Luka glared at him before pulling him back to the trunk of the tree to allow him to lean.

"But!"

"No buts Fenrir. This is an order as your king and your friend too." Ray stepped in front of Fenrir to deliver a smirk. "We'll win this okay? Don't worry. The next turn is our serve so we will be able to get the next point all right?"

Fenrir looked flabbergasted and just slumped his shoulders down disappointingly. "Fine, but if everyone is out of commission I'll spike!"

"You're the one out of commission silly." Seth chuckled and flicked his fingers onto Fenrir's forehead, getting a little yelp from the Ace's mouth.

"All right all right, chit chats over! Let's get the game started again!" MC clapped her hands loudly signalling for the game to restart. Everyone stopped talking and returned to their previous positions like before, full on serious now as they waited for their enemy's next move.

"Who do you think might win?" Blanc whispered into MC's ear but she only replied with a shrug before turning to Sirius who was now serving.

Mentally counting 5 seconds, Sirius held the ball tightly in his hands waiting for the right timing. Just as he counted 3 seconds, he tossed the ball in the air.

"Play!"

Sirius hit the ball onto the other side of the court hardly, making the ball fly full speed onto the Red side in between Jonah and Lancelot.

"I got it!" Jonah yelled and received quickly, delivering the ball upwards and again to Kyle who was already positioned under the ball.

Immediately, everyone except Kyle ran to the front. It was distracting seeing so many people running up and now the question was: Who was Kyle going to use?

The red haired already knew the answer and tossed to his king. Lancelot didn't need to say anything before slamming the ball as hard as he could onto the black army's side. Luka dived down and push the ball upwards, holding in his breath before rolling on the ground due to the impact.

"Sirius get the last!" Seth shouted before doing a toss from the outside of the toss. Sirius ran up and Jonah, Edgar and Zero were positioned at the other side of the net to stop the ball.

Jumping up, Sirius waiting for the ball to reach his hand before hitting it harshly. Unfortunately, the three red army soldiers had successfully jumped up and Jonah's fingers just barely touch the ball, sending the ball flying away.

Everyone looked up and tried to see where the course of the ball was going. It looked too far to be in the court but also too far to receive properly without properly knowing where it was going due to the bright sun in their eyes shining painfully.

It was like minutes had passed when only seconds had; the ball flew downwards and hit Blanc on the head, a loud crack sound could be hears from his neck before he fell backwards from his chair with the ball bouncing under MC's chin and boucing up again, causing not one but two casualties fron a stray ball.

"MC AND BLANC!"

It was unsure of what happened next but fom that day on, Blanc never joined nor go near a match of volleyball ever again.

#ikemen revolution #fenrir godspeed #ray blackwell #luka clemence #seth hyde #sirius oswald #kyle ash #jonah clemence #lancelot kingsley #volleyball #one shot #headcanon

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vikingpoteto · 6 years

Text

Oh wow merry– New Year’s eve? How did this happen, you ask? Well, I had a perfectly structured fic that was supposed to be ready for Christmas, but at about 20k words I realized that I wasn’t even in the middle of the story yet and there was no way that would be ready on time. The solution I found? Write an entirely different story!!! Wow! I’m so smart! So here we are! Valentine’s day stuff instead of a weird soccer club AU! I poured my heart into this story (heh) and I ended up happy with the results. This is my gift for @bikatsuki, for the @dailybnha Secret Santa! This was super fun to write and I really hope you find this fun to read!

Title: Valentine’s day chocolate is (not) overrated. Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou Word count: 5.386 Rating: T Warnings/Tags: Valentine’s Day, Fluff and Humor, Established Relationship, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, rated for language, Canon Compliant, Friendship Summary: Bakugou thinks Valentine’s day is a bullshit holiday for bullshit people that spend money on useless sweets. However, if Kirishima wants chocolate that bad…

READ ON AO3

Katsuki Bakugou is an above-average man of simple needs. He has always been. Currently, for example, there are only two things he needs: first, to be the absolute best at everything. Second, to be left the fuck alone.

He’s working hard for the first already. He has been since he was a young child and, although he still has quite a long way to go, he’s getting closer every day. Bakugou is going to become one hell of a hero before anyone notices and fuck everything else.

The second need, however… There are a few problems.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Ashido asks, from Bakugou’s bed.

From his fucking bed. The black-eyed freak just showed up unannounced to his room asking for his notes which, okay, that was already annoying enough, but forgivable. Bakugou is one of the top students of their year, so he can’t blame Ashido for wanting to take a peek at his notes.

Although it isn’t like him to help his rivals, Ashido… isn’t horrible. If compared to some other people, that is. When he becomes a professional hero, Bakugou will have to interact with other heroes and he’d rather have Ashido there than not. Considering how she barely managed to get passing grades in their second year, she’ll need all the help she can get, be it from Bakugou or the ponytail chick or the ginger ponytail chick or whomever is patient enough to help her.

That being said, Bakugou gave her the notes and told her to scram. Instead of doing that, Ashido waved him off breezily and walked into his room.

“Don’t be silly,” she had said. “I’m more productive when I have company.”

And she dove into his bed, pulling her own notebook from her bright green backpack to start copying his notes.

Bakugou let her. After three years dealing with his classmates’ bullshit, he’d learned a thing or two. For example, he learned that Sero is probably the second least annoying of all of them, so he found himself hanging with Sero whenever he didn’t want to be bugged about being a loner. He learned that Kaminari thrives on attention, so the best way to get rid of him when he’s being annoying is to simply ignore him. He also learned that when Ashido wants something, sometimes it’s easier to just let her have her way, because arguing causes her to start nagging and Bakugou has no energy for that.

But then she starts trying to make small talk while he is studying - and she’s also supposed to be studying, mind you. Bakugou is drawing the line.

“Focus on what you’re doing,” he says.

“I’m focused,” Ashido replies. “I’m great at multitasking.”

“Multitasking is bullshit. You either whole-ass a thing or you half-ass two.”

“Aw, Baku. You care.”

“Don’t call me that. And I don’t fucking care, I just want you to finish what you’re doing so you leave me the fuck alone.”

Ashido throws a pillow at him and misses by almost an entire meter. Really makes you wonder how safe it is to train with this woman that projects acid from her skin.

“Don’t be mean or next time I’ll study with Yaomomo instead.”

Bakugou wants to scream out of frustration, but he knows that’s what she wants. If he explodes, that means that she’s won and Bakugou won’t let her have that.

“Then.” He grits through his teeth. “Why the fuck. Aren’t you. Studying. With her.”

Ashido shrugs. “She had a date.”

And she waits, smiling expectantly. However, Bakugou couldn’t care less about the ponytail chick’s love life, so he doesn’t ask about it. Instead, he turns his back to Ashido and focus on his own homework.

The coldness technique despite working wonders on Kaminari, does very little against Ashido.

“Fine, fine, I’ll work in silence. So long you answer the question. What are you doing tomorrow after class?”

Bakugou sighs. “I don’t fucking know, all right? Nothing. Now shut up.”

As always, Ashido does the opposite of what she was told. “Wonderful! If you’re free, come shopping with me!”

“I’m busy so no.”

“Don’t be an ass! I’ll help you pick good chocolate.”

“The fuck would I buy chocolate for?” he asks

Ashido pouts in disappointment. “So, you already bought yours? Dang it. All the girls already bought theirs and I was thinking of stealing some of each of them, but that would be uncool. I thought we could buy some together.”

Bakugou finally takes the bait and turns to her once more. As annoying as she is, Ashido is good at remembering things about her friends. (Not that Bakugou is her friend-friend. He’s a person that she knows some things about, that’s all.) Ashido should know by now that Bakugou does not care for any kind of sweet, chocolate included. Why would she think she could get him to go out with her by bribing him with chocolate?

“I didn’t buy any chocolate,” he says. “Why would I spend money on chocolate?”

Ashido’s eyes grow wide.

“Wha- Bakugou, it’s almost Valentine’s day!”

“So?”

Ashido gasps loudly, jumping to her feet and throwing her hands up because she’s a huge drama queen.

“Oh my God,” she screeches. “You’re my best friend’s boyfriend! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!”

On the verge of his patience, Bakugou stands as well because, regardless of their position in the least-annoying-classmate list (Ashido ranks third, after Kirishima and Sero), no one yells at him. In his room (and in all the other rooms, except when Present Mic is around) Bakugou always screams the loudest.

“WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING, YOU RACCOON EYED FREAK?”

“EVERYTHING, YOU NORMAL EYED JERK! IT’S VALENTINE’S DAY! YOU SHOULD GIVE YOUR BOYFRIEND CHOCOLATE!”

Bakugou gapes at her. “Girls give chocolate on Valentine’s day.”

“Are you a moron?” Ashido crosses her arms and pouts. “A lot of not-girls give away Valentine’s day chocolate. Kiri got a bunch last year.”

That makes Bakugou stop on his tracks.

“People gave Kirishima chocolate?”

“Wow, wow, hold your murderous jealousy.” Ashido raises her hands in a surrender gesture. “That was before you two started dating. And yes, your precious Kirishima got chocolate. Now, he isn’t popular with girls. At all. Most girls think he goes a little over the top with the manly thing…”

Bakugou mumbles something about girls not knowing shit about anything, but Ashido promptly ignores him.

“A lot of boys look up to him, though. And his popularity has only grown now that we’re third years. Now how embarrassing would it be if Kirishima got chocolates from all of his underclassmen but not from his own boyfriend?”

Bakugou glares at her and opens his mouth to argue. He can’t think of any response to that, so he shuts his lips again.

Suddenly, he imagines himself with a neatly wrapped package of chocolate, waiting at the gates of the school for Kirishima. People walking by, staring at him and giggling, because all of them know. They simply know what Bakugou is doing there and they’re all laughing at him. There’s no way he’d do such a ridiculous thing.

“This entire celebration is bullshit,” he says finally.

Ashido grins. “You know I’m right, don’t you?”

“Out.”

“What!”

“Out of my fucking room, Raccoon girl! OUT!”

When Ashido doesn’t shows any signs of moving, Bakugou picks her up and ignores her shocked shout. He throws her over his shoulder and pretends not to notice her struggles to get down. She doesn’t try to use her quirk to slide from his grip (because the last time she did, Bakugou reacted by using his own quirk, things got out of hand and the two of them exploded/melted a hole on the floor and Aizawa almost expelled them both) but she screams and kicks a lot.

“I didn’t finish copying your notes yet!” She protests loudly.

“Too fucking bad!” Bakugou replies and tosses her out of the room, locking the door after her.

The nerve of that girl, honestly.

On the next day, Bakugou runs alongside Kaminari. It’s just the beginning of the laps, so both boys pace themselves. Both are wearing disappointed faces - Kaminari looking sadder, Bakugou angrier.

“Man, I can’t believe he chose Tetsutetsu over us,” Kaminari says with a pout.

“Shut up,” Bakugou replies.

Kaminari nods, as though Bakugou’s answer is reasonable - as though he could understand some hidden meaning in Bakugou’s words - and keeps running. On that moment, both boys are experimenting deep betrayal.

For most of their P.E. practices, the teachers ask them to have a partner. Most students pick a permanent partner for the entire year.

On their first year, Kirishima had been Bakugou’s partner. How could he not? His quirk was the most compatible with Bakugou’s and the two of them worked well together. They had a good dynamic. Meanwhile, Kaminari was partners with the goth chick. Their quirks weren’t the most compatible, but they got along well and thus understood each other enough to battle side by side.

On their second year, Kirishima and Kaminari were on class B while Bakugou remained a class A student. Bakugou ended up forming a temporary partnership with Sero while Kirishima and Kaminari partnered up with one another.

On their third year, Kirishima, Kaminari and Bakugou were together in the same class again, so Kirishima had a choice to make. (That shouldn’t be much of a choice, really, after all Bakugou was Kirishima’s fucking boyfriend and Kaminari could just return to Jirou.) But then, when Bakugou went ahead and asked Kirishima to run with him for Aizawa’s stupid, boring marathon, Kirishima smiled at him and went:

“Sorry, babe, but Tetsu asked first, so I’m going with him.”

Bakugou was so shocked he isn’t sure what he replied. Next thing he knows, he’s heard Kaminari yelling something about “bros before hoes” and he came by complaining that the goth girl had ditched him for the ponytail chick. And then he was promptly turned down by Kirishima as well.

“You know what?” Kaminari starts. “You should totally make Kirishima sleep on the couch, Blasty.”

Bakugou could point out that he and Kirishima don’t live together. He could tell Kaminari to go fuck himself (he kinda wants to. Really bad.) However, they are supposed to run five laps around campus side by side, so Bakugou prefers to finish the task before lashing out. He adopts his recently-discovered, very effective strategy for dealing with Kaminari: pretending he hasn’t even heard what the other boy said. Sometimes he succeeds and Kaminari shuts up, defeated. Sometimes Kaminari ends up pulling an Ashido and taking Bakugou’s silence as a challenge to see how far Bakugou’s non-existent patience stretches.

The latter often results in something exploding, someone (often Bakugou) being electrocuted and Kaminari going on full idiot mode, so it isn’t a path Kaminari chooses often.

Today, however…

“Oh, I know!” Kaminari grins widely. “Tell him you’re not giving him chocolate on Valentine’s day!”

Bakugou glares at Kaminari until his stupid grin dims a little. He turns his gaze forward before answering.

“I’m not giving him any stupid chocolate anyway.”

Kaminari stumbles on thin air and stops running. Bakugou wonders why these idiots have to react like this, especially when they are in the middle of a fucking class.

“What do you mean you’re not going to give him chocolate? He’s your boyfriend.”

Why does everybody keep saying that as if Bakugou would forget?

“So fucking what?” Bakugou throws his hands up in frustration. “Yes, even though he prefers running with fucking Tin Man, he’s my boyfriend! I know! Still not giving him fucking chocolate! Screw this damn holiday!”

“But you gotta, man! You’re supposed to give your boyfriend chocolate! It’s, like, the law.”

“You were just telling me not to give him the stupid chocolate!”

“I obviously wasn’t being serious! What the hell, Bakugou!”

Ponytail and Goth run past them, both girls chatting idly as they run in a comfortable pace. Ponytail gives them a worried look as though she’s considering interfering in their discussion. Goth knows better, so she grabs Ponytail’s arm and makes sure she doesn’t stop. Bakugou can’t believe these losers are running ahead of them because of Kaminari’s nonsense. His patience starts wearing thin.

“Whatever, just get moving again.”

“No!” Kaminari stomps his foot. “Damn, Bakugou, the least you can do for your boyfriend is give him chocolate on Valentine’s day. Kirishima would give you chocolate.”

When Kaminari says it, Bakugou realizes that he can picture that easily. Kirishima is the kind of person that would wait by the school gates. He wouldn’t mind the people staring and giggling, though. Or, well, he would mind, but he would tell himself to endure it, because that would be the manly thing to do. He would be carrying a badly wrapped package that he tried decorating himself in a horrifying red paper with little biceps drawn on it or something equally preposterous. It would look awful, but Kirishima would have spent the entire night working on it.

Bakugou shakes his head to wipe that image off of his brain.

“He would not,” he says, “because Kirishima knows I hate chocolate.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz you’re the Grinch,” Kaminari scoffs. “But if you were a regular human being, Kirishima would totally give you chocolate. And, somewhere deep down in this little grinchy raisin that you call a heart, you know that it’s your moral duty to give Kirishima sweet, nice, homemade chocolate.”

Bakugou breathes in and out. Kirishima is the kind of moron that would get super excited over useless shit like this. Homemade chocolate and all of that crap.

Then Deku and Todoroki run past them. Deku gives them a curious, yet mildly terrified look. Todoroki doesn’t even glance in their direction.

There’s no way Bakugou is finishing these stupid warm-up laps after those assholes.

“Kaminari, you shut your damn mouth and start fucking running this instant or I’m gonna give you a reason to run.”

“Pffft. As if.”

Bakugou tenses up and small explosions starts to crack in the palms of his hands. Kaminari lets out a high-pitched screech and starts running.

Good.

Bakugou is not thinking about Valentine’s day when he heads to his bedroom on that night. It’s a stupid holiday, anyway. Everything is annoying and pink at the shopping centers, chocolate is overpriced and people won’t shut up about confessing feelings and getting confessions and all of that bullshit about obligatory chocolate and romantic chocolate and store - bought and homemade- Long story short, Bakugou thinks the entire concept of Valentine’s day is bullshit.

He’s already twisting the knob of his door when he decides he’s too annoyed for homework. He takes a couple of extra steps and opens Kirishima’s door instead, going in without knocking.

He finds Kirishima lying on his back on the floor with a manga in hands. Instead of telling Bakugou off for just walking in as though he owns the place, Kirishima smiles brightly at him.

“Hey,” he says. “I thought you were going to ignore me longer for ditching you for Tetsu earlier.”

Bakugou blinks, taken aback. Fuck. He was so busy not thinking about Valentine’s day he’d forgotten he was supposed to be angry at Kirishima.

He decides to just avoid the comment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?” He asks.

Kirishima sits up and opens his arms for Bakugou. “Did you come here to study?”

Kirishima is wearing a sleeveless shirt and his hair is tucked in a small ponytail on the base of his nape. That and his bashful smile are an invitation not even someone as strong as Bakugou could resist.

“No,” he says and he settles in front of Kirishima, letting him loop his arms around his waist.

“Then I’m not supposed to be studying either,” Kirishima says and kisses him.

Bakugou’s (not) friends often tell him he needs to chill. That he’s going to eventually have a permanent wrinkle carved into his forehead and die of stress at the age of 26. Bakugou tells them they should go fuck themselves, although he does think he could use a little less tension. Sometimes.

When he’s kissing Kirishima, Bakugou doesn’t feel tense at all. Ever since the sports festival of their first year, Bakugou has always known that Kirishima is unbreakable and that he will not waver. Since then he started feeling… safe… around Kirishima. There’s no other way of explaining it.

After months together, their kisses have become less awkward, with less teeth clashing (for which Bakugou thanks God. He lost count of how many times Kirishima’s stupid teeth had gotten him split lips that had all of their friends bothering them about.)

Now their kisses are confident and unworried. Bakugou knows how to bite down on Kirishima’s lower lip just hard enough that has him making that adorable little throaty sound. Kirishima knows how Bakugou loves it when he wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him closer until there’s no space between them. They’re growing used to each other. Their kisses are starting to feel like coming home.

Bakugou puts a hand on the floor for better leverage, but his fingers touch something crisp. He breaks the kiss with a (mildly disgusting) wet sound and looks down, startled. It’s candy wrap.

“Uh…” Kirishima says, still a little dazed, as though he’s wondering where Bakugou’s lips went. Then his gaze follows Bakugou’s. “Oh. Sorry, I was eating this earlier and forgot to toss the paper.”

He grabs the paper and gets up to throw it in the trash bin. Bakugou follows him with his eyes.

“I thought you didn’t like sweets that much.”

“I prefer savory food, true.” Kirishima nods as he comes back to Bakugou’s side. “But Kendou-chan got this huge chocolate box from her mother and she was sharing with everyone, so she gave me one. And well. It’s chocolate. I wouldn’t refuse chocolate.”

Kirishima chuckles a bit and Bakugou squints at him.

“What’s wrong? You wanted chocolate too? I didn’t think of saving some for you, since-”

“I hate chocolate, of fucking course I didn’t want it.”

“Then what is it? You were making that intense face.”

Bakugou stands and offers a hand to pull Kirishima up as well. Kirishima takes it with only a mild confused look.

“Off your ass,” Bakugou says. “We’re gonna do your homework now.”

Kirishima protests that he wants to keep making out, but Bakugou makes a compelling point by pulling Kirishima’s grades from the last written tests. They find the middle ground: they don’t do homework or make out, but they sit together and cuddle on Kirishima’s bed while reviewing some important points from the lasts classes.

With his head resting on Bakugou’s shoulder, Kirishima only pays half-attention, every now and then pressing small kisses to Bakugou’s shoulder and openly laughing when Bakugou scolds him.

Bakugou must be losing his touch, but he simply can’t stay angry when Kirishima is smiling like that.

If he could, Bakugou would like to be the reason of that smile. Which means…

Fuck.

Bakugou Katsuki is an above-average man that cares about very little. In fact, you could say that he only cares about two things.

The first thing he cares about is his lifelong dream of becoming the number one. He’s worked his ass off to be the best hero he can be and dedicated all of himself to his goal. He refined his talents and worked hard through his issues and got far, and he would go farther than anyone else, because he cares so deeply for his dream.

The second thing Bakugou cares about is Kirishima.

Well, sue him. Kirishima is strong and funny and beautiful and Bakugou fucking loves him. He doesn’t want to be the boy waiting by the school gates with a stupid pink package and he certainly doesn’t want Kirishima to give him chocolate because let’s be honest: Kirishima would totally put protein inside his homemade chocolates and they would taste disgusting. Bakugou does, however, want Kirishima to smile.

So he doesn’t go out on that Saturday because stupid underclassmen are giving chocolate to his damn boyfriend and the tradition demands that he asserts dominance by giving the most impressive, most homemade (?) chocolate. (Although the dominance is 100% his, because Kirishima loves him and his chocolate is going to be the best of all.) He doesn’t go shopping for chocolate because Kirishima would give him chocolate (despite the fact that he wouldn’t lose in chocolate giving, not even to Kirishima.)

Bakugou goes out because he can’t take out of his head the image of Kirishima’s smile, wide and sunny, all because he got chocolate from his boyfriend. Kirishima will probably brag about it to his stupid friends and Bakugou will have to yell at him because of it, but Kirishima will smile again and Bakugou will melt inside and muster all of his strength not to show anything on the outside.

And everything else be damned. Bakugou isn’t ashamed of any of that.

The only reason he’s wearing the beanie and the face mask is because it’s cold outside, it’s not that he’s trying to not get recognized while he browses through shelves and shelves of chocolate in a stupid store that smells awfully sweet.

A cheerful girl wearing the store’s uniform offers Bakugou help, which causes a group of giggling girls to eye him curiously. He tells the girl to scram and the group of gigglers decides to look for their chocolate in a different aisle. Bakugou has barely had time to feel thankful for the relative solitude when a pair of familiar people waltz into the store.

“If you don’t behave, I’m not giving you friend chocolate,” Ashido threatens.

“If you don’t give me chocolate, you better find another failing-grades-partner,” Kaminari says.

Bakugou.

Wants to die.

He turns around and he starts heading to the back of the store, somewhere, anywhere, he just needs to hide until he finds an opportunity to leave or-

“Bakugou?”

Fuck.

“How the hell did you know it was me?”

“Bakugou!” Ashido comes running in his direction, her eyes sparkling. “You stick out like a sore thumb! No one else is wearing all black in an entirely pink store!”

“And I’d recognize those saggy pants anywhere, anytime.” Kaminari says, making finger guns.

Ashido and Bakugou stare at him.

“Not that I stare at your butt all the time, of course,” he explains with a solemn nod. “It’s just that Kirishima is all dude-look-at-Bakugou’s-butt so often that I kinda grew familiar with it.”

“To be fair, I also stare at his butt sometimes,” Ashido says and shrugs.

Bakugou lets out a heavy sigh. “What are you fucks doing here?”

“Buying chocolate,” Ashido says cheerfully. “And so are you! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, my precious, hot-headed son.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says.

“Bakugou, language!” Ashido gasps and then turns to the nervous saleswoman that has been eyeing the three since they started carelessly yelling about butts. “Forgive my rude son, he’s an Aries.”

“Sooo…” Kaminari starts with a shit-eating grin that has, like, 50% chance of causing an explosion. “You are buying Kirishima chocolate after all.”

“Ok, so listen here, you dipshits,” Bakugou starts, stabbing a finger at Kaminari’s chest. “Yes, I’m fucking buying chocolate for my stupid freaking boyfriend and that’s none of your damn business. If you don’t want me to shove that damn candy cane over there up your goddamned ass, you better stay the hell outta my way , GOT IT?”

And yet.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

Bakugou had thought this through. His dumb classmates can’t cook for shit, so he almost always has the kitchen all for himself. He decided to prepare Kirishima’s chocolate at night, when everyone is in too tired because of whatever torture Aizawa had put them through and not in the fucking kitchen. Then how come he finds himself staring at the grinning ugly mugs of Sero, Ashido and Kaminari?

“We came to help,” Sero says cheerfully.

“I don’t want your dumb shits’ help. Scram.”

“Don’t be like that, Katsuki-kun,” Ashido says. “We won’t get in your way. Think of us as just pleasant company.”

“PLEASANT MY FUCKING ASS, YOU-”

“Now, now!” Kaminari raises his hands as if surrendering. “This is the dorms kitchen, Bakugou. We have every right to be here as U.A. students, don’t you think?”

Bakugou is about to explode Kaminari’s entire stupid face when he notices the little curl on the corner of his lip. Kaminari is being a little shit on purpose. He wants to annoy Bakugou into exploding on him. The little bastard.

Ignoring the bottomless rage in his gut, Bakugou counts to 10 in his head like his therapist told him to and heads to the stove with his bag of chocolate. As he starts searching for a pan in the cupboard, he thinks to himself that maybe his therapist is working with his classmates. Telling them to put Bakugou to test or something. Because that sounds like something that hag would do and these assholes really have been testing Bakugou’s limits.

“Wait, wait, wait, what are you doing?” Sero asks.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m melting the chocolate.”

“It looks like you’re about to fry that chocolate bar by putting it directly into the pan.”

Bakugou stays there, holding a frying pan in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other. The question hangs in the air and it seems like no one dares to say the words out loud until Kaminari asks:

“Isn’t that how you melt the chocolate?”

“No!” Ashido frowns. “That’s how you burn chocolate. But… But Bakugou knew that, right?”

Silence.

“Oh my God.” Sero starts grinning. “Oh my God. Bakugou. Could it be… The reason you didn’t want to make chocolate for Kirishima… Was it because you can’t bake?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kaminari says. “Bakugou can do anything in the kitchen.”

Silence stretches again. The three dumbasses gape at Bakugou, who refuses to look up at any of their idiotic faces. Ashido lets out a small huff. Bakugou explodes (but not literally, for once.)

“BAKING IS FUCKING USELESS!”

“OH MY GOD, IT’S TRUE!”

“So you need our help in the end!” Sero says with delight. “Bakugou, how? You’re one of the best cooks I know, how is that you can’t bake?”

“I don’t need to bake, all right? Desserts are fucking pointless, just eat enough real food!”

“That’s the most Bakugou thing I have ever heard,” Kaminari says. “And it makes me wonder what Kirishima sees in you.”

“It’s his butt,” Sero says.

“I never thought I’d say this, but enough about Bakugou’s butt,” Ashido intervenes. “Boys, don’t you see? This is an emergency! Tomorrow’s Valentine’s day and Bakugou is useless!”

“Hey, watch it!”

“We must work together to save Kirishima’s Valentine’s day!”

“LISTEN TO ME!”

No one listens to him. In a way, that is good because he really doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do and… well. Ashido, Sero and Kaminari seem as invested in Kirishima’s happiness as Bakugou is. He might actually cook each of them something later as a thank you.

You know, just because he hates owing people favors.

Sero and Ashido know how to melt the chocolate, but their baking experience is apparently limited to watching their mothers. In the end, the four of them end up around the kitchen island staring at a bowl of liquid chocolate without a clue of what to do with it.

“Now what?” Ashido asks.

“We… We could make a cake?” Kaminari suggests.

“With just chocolate? I don’t think we can make a cake with that.”

“We could asks Sato to help us,” Sero says.

“No,” Bakugou grabs the bowl and takes it with him to the counter.

“Blasty, this isn’t the time to let your pride get in the way,” Ashido starts, but Bakugou shuts her up with a single glare.

“You dumbasses don’t know shit any more than I do,” he says. “So I might as well deal with this alone. This is my Valentine’s gift to Kirishima, so I’m the one that should do it on my own.”

The three idiots stare at Bakugou in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Then they start smiling and Bakugou braces himself. They’re about to go all sentimental on him, tell him how much he’s grown and how proud they are. Ashido is going to call him son, Sero will apologize for teasing him and Kaminari will probably cry a little. Bakugou will hate every second of it, it will feel as though his face is burning, but he probably won’t explode them when Ashido inevitably drag them into a group hug.

Before any of that happens, however, Bakugou is saved.

“Oh my God, that was so manly ,” says Kirishima from the door.

“Kirishima, no!” Kaminari shouts, jumping in front of Bakugou as if to hide him from view. “It’s bad look to see the groom before the wedding!”

“We’re not helping Bakugou to surprise you, wherever you got that idea?!” Sero joins Kaminari.

“Who’s Bakugou?” Ashido yells. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for Bakugou,” Kirishima says.

Bakugou almost appreciates their absurd efforts and he would have laughed at their antics if he wasn’t so frustrated. He’d failed. He didn’t make the stupid chocolate, even after all of that drama and Kirishima found out about his pathetic attempt. He glares at his own feet, embarrassed and angry at himself.

He hears Kirishima crossing the kitchen towards him, but he refuses to look up until he hears Kirishima’s voice.

“ Babe ,” he says, his tone hoarse with emotion. “Blasty, you were making me Valentine’s day chocolate?”

Bakugou avoids Kirishima’s eyes as he mumbles something impossible to understand.

“Bakugou, you hate chocolate,” Kirishima says. “And you hate Valentine’s day even more.”

Bakugou pouts. “But I love you.” (He ignores Ashido’s little screech.) “And you care about this dumb shit, so I thought… I thought I might give it a try. Or whatever.”

“Bakugou!” Kirishima half shouts, half cries and he grabs Bakugou’s face between his hands, squeezing his cheeks and making sure Bakugou can’t avoid his gaze anymore.

Bakugou is glad that he does. Because Kirishima’s eyes are sparkling like never before and his smile is so wide and beautiful it almost hurts to look at. Bakugou doesn’t want to stop seeing that expression ever again.

“Bakugou, I never expected you to make me chocolate,” Kirishima says, still squeezing his face. “I was going to ask you on a date instead, you bastard, I can’t believe you beat me to it.”

“A date?” Bakugou frowns, thinking of the restaurants downtown covered in pink hearts and cupid decorations with a little disgust.

“Yeah. I know you hate all this corny stuff, so I was going to ask you to go hiking? Remember that restaurant near the camp we went last year? I figured we could go there and have spicy meat curry instead of chocolate, because it’s our favorite foods combined. And then we could go hiking and make our own Valentine’s day and stuff. I can’t believe you were willing to go against your principles and make me chocolate!”

Kirishima wanted to go hiking. Bakugou’s cheeks are starting to hurt and he can’t form words properly with his entire face being squished like that. Still, he manages to say:

“I lohe ya’ sho much .”

Kirishima laughs out loud and leans in to kiss him. Bakugou hears their friends giggling on the background and he makes a dismissive gesture at them blindly before putting his hands to better use and pulling Kirishima closer. He’s too busy to check whether they actually leave after that.

There’s not a lot that Bakugou Katsuki wants or cares about. But three things are for sure: he wants to keep making Kirishima smile. And he cares about the idiots that are his classmates. And, last but not least, he’s on the correct path to become the best hero (and boyfriend) that ever existed.

In the end, he’s still learning. For example, he’s learned that he shouldn’t underestimate chocolate. If this is what he gets with a bowl of soggy chocolate, imagine next year after he finally masters his chocolate baking skills.

#kiribaku #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #dailybnhasecretsanta #bnha #bnha fanfic #poteto writing

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kidolegend · 7 years

Text

Renewals - A Prompto Argentum Fic (Part 6)

Previous | AO3 Link

Hellooo~ I’m so happy there are people who are interested in Renewals and I wanted to post another (action-filled) chapter for those who have joined my journey through this plot~ Y’all are so awesome and sweet ;__;

Any reblogs, comments, moral support, constructive criticism, or just some hellos are always appreciated~

Tagging: @blindbae @xnoctits@themissimmortal @poisonous-panda @insomniascure @thegoddesseos @crossedquills @cupnoodle-queen @sriracha-chocobo @decision-height @lithiumkatana17 @roses-and-oceans @thirsty-angst-lord @drpepper280 @sailormars109 @e-addi @atlerion @ultimoogle (and as always please message me if you would like to be removed from my tagging list, my last wish is to bother you)

Bust-a-Base!

Aylin and Prompto worked quickly once they had formulated their strategy. They backtracked outwards, making sure to leave some room for error in case Aylin’s arrow didn't fly as expected.

“Think you can make the shot from here?” Prompto had long since relinquished the explosive to Aylin, letting the young woman get a feel for the weight of the device as they knelt at their chosen recon position.

Aylin was busy lashing the flare to a bundled set of three arrows, trying to get it as sturdy as possible. “From this distance…” She paused in her handiwork, closing one eye and tilting her head as she took aim at the center of the warehouse. “Yeah, I’ll be good.”

“Sweet.” He grinned at her. “Once that goes off, we should head for the turret on our right.”

“Do you wanna take the sniper there out, or…” Aylin gave a pointed look at the trooper standing motionlessly at the mounted gun.

“I can totally make that shot, but I bet the MT’ll move behind the turret so I might not have an opening. If I give you a boost, can you handle it?” Prompto folded his arms, concerned.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” The young woman shrugged at him. “After that… It’s just disabling that central control panel, right?”

“Yup. I’ll clear out anything around the turret, so you’ll just have to watch my back while I work on that panel. After that’s done, we get out, and then mission complete!”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.”

The blonde’s grin reappeared and he allowed himself to feel confident in his abilities. ‘I can do this. I can really pull this off. I’ve tackled things way tougher than this, it’ll be a cinch.’

Aylin tugged the wire securing the grenade a few times, making sure it was pulled tight before she knotted it down. She held up her contraption, frowning at it. “Bit heavy…” She mumbled.

“...Will you be okay?” Prompto questioned again. They could move forward a bit more but he would rather not chance it--the explosion was going to be huge and it would be stupid if they got caught in the blast radius.

The archer contemplated the device again, weighing it in her hands and lifting it up to her bow. Her arms held steady as she nocked the set of arrows to the bowstring and her eyes squinted at her target. “I’ll just aim high to counter the extra weight. Should be good enough.”

He nodded. “Yeah, all we need is the flare to land close enough to detonate the energy tanks… The rest should do itself.”

She sighed, lowering her weapon. “I hope so… Lev would have made this shot, no problem.”

“Your brother?”

Aylin dipped her head once.

Prompto bit his lip, recognizing the familiar self-doubt. It was a constant emotion he had to deal with, especially considering his remarkable three companions and dubious background. “Uh, I mean… I never knew him, but I’m sure you’ll be able to do just fine, too. You've done pretty awesome so far.”

“Thanks,” She gave him a slight smile before refocusing her attention. “All right… You ready?”

“You bet.” Prompto brandished his pistol, his expression hardening as Aylin lifted her bow.

Aylin exhaled slowly as she pulled her arm back, the bow shifting in her fingers as she aimed carefully. She rotated the arrow slightly--making sure the flare would clear her bow without running into the side of it--before making eye contact with Prompto one last time.

‘Wow, nice eyes...” The blonde found himself distracted.

His stray thought was cut off as Aylin looked away and relaxed her finger, letting the arrow fly.

There was a crushing silence that followed, as if the arrow had sucked the air away as it flew into the distance. Prompto found himself holding his breath as time slowed and his blood began racing.

The arrow struck low on its mark, hitting the bottom of one of the energy tanks, but the force was enough.

Prompto didn’t even have time to cover his ears before the darkness exploded into life, making the ground beneath them shake violently with the impact of the blast.

“W-waaah!” The gunner was blown backwards onto his rear and he instinctively grabbed Aylin, who had also lost her footing. They lay low on the top of the freight container until the waves of heat had stopped surging past them, before finally lifting their heads to examine the damage.

“H...Holy shit.” Prompto swore as he stood and helped Aylin to her feet. The entire warehouse was engulfed in smoke and as they watched in awe they could hear secondary explosions going off--the magitek armors were self-destructing due to the irreparable damage inflicted upon them. The front and back of the now-ruined building had blown out completely, and the blonde was thrilled to see that the force had done much more than he had expected.

“The control booth!” Aylin spoke loudly, barely able to hear over the first explosion and the cacophony of debris and destroyed magitek sounding around them.

Prompto nodded, a breathless grin on his face. The entire shack had been demolished, the walls crumbling and the panel a melted heap of scrap metal.

There were loud metallic thuds that sounded behind them and they whipped around. The single patrolling magitek armor had spotted them, thanks to all the additional light the flaming warehouse provided.

“Crap,” They both dove in opposite directions as the armor opened fire, raining a shower of bullets over the freight.

Prompto landed roughly, allowing his body to move with the fall so he could roll to his feet. He looked over and Aylin was already up and running, her arrows effectively drawing the attention of the mech.

“Hey! The turret!” The gunner shouted, ducking as a trooper slashed at him. Prompto’s eyes narrowed and he charged.

“Gotcha!” He fired a crackshot into the leg of the distracted magitek armor, effectively bringing it down to its knees and giving Aylin enough time to get around it. “Get to the turret!”

Prompto was no longer the silly photographer who often injured his tailbone attempting to pull off ridiculous trick shots while leaping around with his guns. This time, he was dead serious.

“On my way!” He barely heard Aylin’s reply as he flung himself into the mass of magitek soldiers. All of Prompto’s excess energy surged forward and gave him a hyper-awareness of everything around him, throwing his senses into overdrive.

“Watch your right!”

He dodged with the warning, straightening up in time to see Aylin taking a leap at him, whipping her body around and striking the infantryman in a flying roundhouse kick. The trooper went down with a heavy thud and Aylin’s weapon--now separated into dual blades--plunged into the gap in its chest armor, silencing it for good.

“Whoo, nice one!” Prompto followed up Aylin’s attack with several rounds of bullets, keeping the MTs back far enough for the two of them to head towards the turret. His eyes widened as he spotted the sniper taking its place at the mounted gun. “Ah, run!!”

They split up, weaving in separate directions as another hailstorm of ammunition exploded around them. Prompto reached the tower first and he spun on his heel to see Aylin making her way towards him, with MTs hot on her tail.

“Take this!” Prompto yelled, summoning his auto crossbow and unleashing a flurry of bolts, taking care not to hit his ally. He could feel small cuts and scrapes prickling at his arms and face--he had managed to avoid the bullets but the debris was a different story--but he ignored it. He had been through worse before, after all.

Much worse.

Aylin put on a burst of speed to get past the enemy machine gun fire, switching her blades so they were both in one hand. She locked her gaze on him, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Get ready!”

Prompto reloaded his crossbow gun before letting it dissipate into thin air and nodding. “Go for it!”

Aylin ran straight at him and Prompto clasped his hands together in front of him, kneeling down slightly. She slowed just as she reached him and stepped up onto his palms, bracing her free hand on his shoulder.

“Hup!!” Prompto heaved upwards, tossing her easily into the air. She was a lighter than Aranea and he glanced back, making sure she would be able to clear the height of the turret platform. She flew past it with ease and continued a few more feet above that before gravity finally took over.

Aylin used her inertia to help strengthen her blow as she descended onto the trooper in command of the turret gun. It fell easily under her blades and it only took a moment to situate herself at the gattling gun and give Prompto the thumbs up.

“I’ve got your back!”

He nodded once and launched himself back into the fray. The magitek armor he had stunned earlier had finally clamored to its feet, taking aim at the blonde. He dodged around the rockets it fired from its arms, sliding between its legs and firing his pistols, keeping its attention solely on him while Aylin cleared out the rest of the troopers with the gun. She wasn't a great shot with the heavy machinery, but she made sure to give Prompto a lot of room to work with in case her bullets went astray. Prompto kept his body moving, constantly weaving around the magitek armor so it couldn’t get a clear shot at him. He spotted a trooper taking aim at him and he grabbed his drillbreaker, pulling the charge on it as he spun and aimed at the giant armor bearing down on him. “This’ll be… a blast!” Prompto overloaded the energy output on the machinery so it exploded with enough force both trip up the armor and send him flying backwards. Prompto slammed his back into the chest of the infantryman, dazing it long enough for him to pull his handguns and fire two shots into its head.

“It’s over!” He taunted the MT, his habitual lines leaving his mouth without worry, grinning as he relinquished the pistols with a rare air of confidence.

That is, until something slammed into his back from behind.

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