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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 3 years

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The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 9

A/N: Part 9 is here y’all! Enjoy! And let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! 💕💕💕

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, slight mention of past trauma and wounds.

You had already boarded Zemo’s private jet, sitting on the seat across from him while Sam had sat beside you with Bucky across from him. Oeznik had approached you all, asking if you wanted something to eat or drink and sharing a few words with Zemo. You shook your head, politely refusing with a kind smile before staring out the window of the jet and watching the clouds. Even though you had just left your home, you missed everyone there dearly, almost wishing you had the chance to bring Kólasi along. But you knew the local people would not take kindly to a dragon walking their streets. And wherever you were now heading, you had a feeling you were going somewhere you wouldn’t find agreeable.

“So do you have a private jet?” You heard Sam ask you.

“Nah.”

“How come?”

“She has a dragon and a pegasus Sam. I’m pretty sure they are her mode of transportation.” Zemo added.

“Wait. But what if it’s raining or there’s a storm?” Sam turned in his seat to face you, leaning in as he was curious to know how you managed to ride openly through the clouds in a storm.

“Well my father was Zeus, the god of the skies and thunder Sam. A little lightning won’t hurt me.”

“Wouldn’t you be soaked though? That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”

“Yes, well if that’s the case than I can just teleport.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Are you able to teleport others?” Bucky wanted to know, if so, it would be helpful to use that, right?

“I can. But the very first time can be unpleasant.”

“How so?”

“Well try to imagine your molecules separating and joining back together.” You tried to make an example with a motion of your hands. “So that in itself is an unpleasant feeling. You’ll also most likely puke your insides out after your first time. And there are even some rare cases where you might come back......disarranged.”

“What do you mean by disarranged?” Zemo raised his brow, not sure if you meant what he thought you meant. Would you reappear, swapped in each other’s bodies or.......

“Oh you know. Your leg might end up where your arm is supposed to be. Or your head might be sticking out your ass, something like that.” You smirked as you toyed with them, seeing the terrified expressions on everyone’s faces. They were most likely praying you wouldn’t use that ability on them. “I’m kidding, geez. Tough crowd.”

“Kidding about what part?” Bucky remarked.

“The disarrangement part. But in all realness, the only side affects are nausea and vomiting and your body feeling like jello. But you’ll get used to it.”

“Sounds like a blast.” Sam noted. “Please don’t teleport us unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Only if absolutely necessary.” You promised.

“Also, what’s up with all the weapons? Were you some kind of mercenary?” Sam asked you another question as he thought about all the weapons and armor you had in your armory.

“Well I wouldn’t call it that. Mercenaries were for profit and personal interest. I on the other hand went after tyrants and criminals. But I also hunted down monsters that posed a threat to the human population. I guess you could say I dealt with more of the.....supernatural.” You tried to elaborate.

“Monsters?” Sam raised his brow. “Like what?”

“You know, vampires, werewolves, minotaurs, hydras, chimeras, echidnas, sea monsters-“ you started to list off before Sam cut you off.

“Woah woah hang on. Vampires and werewolves? As in like twilight?”

“Hell no. I’m talking vicious flesh eating monsters here that absolutely do not sparkle. I mean, there are still some vampires left that play by the rules and don’t feed on your fellow mortals. But sometimes you’ll have the few that think they can break the rules like a bunch of idiots. Werewolves on the other hand are trickier, don’t get me started on them. But don’t worry, I got a guy, a half-mortal or daywalker, in charge of the supernatural business.”

“Hold up. So you were what? Like a Van Helsing?”

“Welll, Van Helsing was a real person.”

“Are you serious?” Bucky sat up in his seat. “What about Dracula?”

“Oh he was a real pain in the ass I tell you. That slimy bastard tried to seduce me so that he could take all the creatures under my control to do his bidding. Well, as you can see, that obviously didn’t work.”

Before the men could ask any more questions your phone buzzed in your pocket, making you pick it up to see Maze’s name on the front. Your heart skipped a beat for a moment as you stared at the screen, all the negative possibilities running through your head.

“Who is it?” Sam asked you once he noticed your expression.

“It’s Maze.”

“Did something happen?” Bucky inquired, his brows were raised and his voice was filled with concern.

“I hope not.” You accepted the call, lifting your phone to your ear. “Maze?”

“Hekate! It’s Athena!” Maze spoke in a somewhat panicked voice which only added to your nervousness and suspicions.

You shot up from your seat at the tone of her voice and her mentioning your daughter’s name. “What?! What do you mean? Did something happen to her?”

The men watched you with concern, leaning forward in the edge of their seats once they heard your daughter being mentioned. They were ready to rush over to your place right now if need be.

“Well she fell from the tree.”

“She what?!” Your blood ran cold and your heart was pounding in your chest, it felt as if it would burst right through your rib cage. “Maze speak!”

“Okay! Hang on a second. What happened was, she was playing around in her treehouse and tried to climb to the top of the tree. I tried to stop her when I saw what she was doing but she fell straight down.”

You shrieked in panic at what you had just heard. Your knees felt weak and you thought you might pass out but Bucky stood up to give you support, holding you as you gripped on to his metal arm, nearly crushing it in the process. “Is she hurt? Maze you need to tell me!”

Oeznik came in upon hearing your trembling voice, asking if anything was the matter, but Zemo had explained to him that they had it under control and should alert him if anything was needed.

“Well that’s why I’m calling you. She’s totally fine.” Maze replied.

“Wait............wait what?” You shook your head in confusion, not getting what she was talking about.

“I know right? I’m pretty sure there’s supposed to be broken bones and like lots of blood after a fall like that, but she doesn’t even have a scratch on her. She even laughed the whole thing off like some kind of miniature maniac. She nearly gave me a heart attack, and demons don’t get heart attacks. Now is that normal and should I be worried?”

“Uhhh.” You were unable to form words as you tried to figure it out. Was it the protection spell you put over her or was it just her in general? You had kept such a close eye on Athena, making sure she never got hurt, that now that she has been in a situation where she could’ve gotten injured, you didn’t know how to react or what to think. But Maze did say she didn’t have a single scratch or broken bone or any kind of injury. So that must be a good thing.....right?

“Hekate?” You heard Maze on the other line again. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine. I was just.....thrown off for a bit. How is she?”

“Oh she’s great! We painted each other’s nails today. She’s taking a nap right now though. Hey, where’s that good shit that you have?”

“Good shit?”

“You know. Your really expensive wine from Olympus that your sibling, the wine god, what’s their name made?”

“Dionysus?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm it’s in the very top cupboard above the sink.”

“Okay thanks. I need a glass after what happened, or a bottle. Bye Hekate!” Maze hung up while you stood there, still surprised to hear Athena was unharmed and feeling almost drained after the whole ordeal.

“Everything okay?” Bucky whispered, his eyes searching your face for any further signs.

You noticed how close he was as he supported you, and you couldn’t help the blush that appeared on your cheeks, averting your gaze from his steel blue eyes. “Yeah, uh thanks.” You let go of his metal arm while he let go of you, allowing you to sit back in your seat.

“So is everything okay with Athena?” You heard Sam ask while you stared at the ground.

“Athena uh fell from the tree.”

“Is she okay?” Zemo asked you, his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah she’s fine, surprisingly. There wasn’t a single scratch on her. Must be the genes.”

Bucky pulled up the sleeve of his metal arm, a surprised chuckle leaving his lips as he saw the dented hand print you left behind. “Geez y/n. What’s with the Hercules grip?”

“Huh?” You looked up at him, glancing down at his arm to see your handprint dented into the vibranium. “Oh shit! I am so sorry! Let me fix that.” With a wave of your hand and a swirl of violet around your fingers, you fixed the dent in Bucky’s arm as if nothing ever happened to it.

Once Sam saw that you were completely fine, he turned to Zemo. “So, why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry. I was just fascinated by this. I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?” Zemo pulled out a small leather book which looked like the exact same one Steve had.

You jolted back in your chair as Bucky charged at Zemo, grabbing him by the neck and snatching the book back.

Your eyes widened at the commotion in front of you. “Yo! Can you guys chill out?”

“If you touch that again, I’ll kill you.” Bucky threatened him before going back to his seat.

“I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ve seen that book.” Sam commented. “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?”

“I like 40s music, so....”

“You didn’t like it?” Sam gave him an offended look.

“I liked it.”

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.” Zemo elaborated to the conversation.

“He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.” James responded.

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye. And y/n likes him too, don’t you y/n?” Sam now turned to you.

“Hm? Oh yeah, he’s great! Hendrix was pretty awesome too. Saw him in Woodstock, super chill dude to jam out on the guitar with by the way. I may or may not have dropped acid there.” You added the last part to yourself, though Sam overheard it and gave you a judgmental look, to which you looked at him, mouthing how it was only one time.

“You must have really looked up to Steve.” Zemo voiced. “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.”

“Watch your step, Zemo.”

“They become symbols.” Zemo continued to make his point. “Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”

As Zemo spoke, you thought about how many of your people looked up to your father and brother, and even Hera. How many of them saw them as their beloved gods and saviors, these righteous and glorious beings. But you were there and witnessed what happened behind closed doors, you were a product of that, a product of their faults and imperfections. And as those memories came rushing back to you, so did the pain of the scars it left behind. You could still feel the tenderness of the long scar on your face left by Ares, and the number of ones that were scattered on your back like a pile of jagged twigs, leaving behind a grisly form of artwork.

“That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” Zemo finished.

You lifted your head up at the mention of the place, jerking your head towards Zemo. Well you were right about how you weren’t going to like the new destination.

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seancekitsch · 3 years

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Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic

Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california

No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.

The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.

The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.

But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.

No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.

You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.

“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.

“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.

You blink at him. Did he really just say that?

“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”

“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.

Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.

“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.

Wrong move, sweet cheeks.

“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?

“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.

“No, you said something.”

“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.

You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.

“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.

“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.

“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”

“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”

It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.

“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”

I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.

You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.

“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.

How could you guess?

“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.

“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.

“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”

“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.

“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”

“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.

You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.

“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.

“Like really?”

“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”

He shrugs, frowns.

“Could still skewer you on something.”

Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.

Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.

You're going to let him.

The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.

“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.

He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.

“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.

“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”

You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.

He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.

“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.

“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.

“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.

“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?

“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”

That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.

You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.

“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”

You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.

“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.

You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.

“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”

“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.

“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”

You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.

“What does it feel like?”

“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.

“To be fed on, but not to die.”

Are you serious? You hear him in your head.

YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.

He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.

He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.

Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.

When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood. He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't. It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.

“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.

When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.

An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.

He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.

“You’re dangerous, you know.”

“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”

I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight.

He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.

“Where’s your bike?”

“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you.

“Will I see you again?”

He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.

Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.

He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.

Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat. He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:

“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”

And he winks.

#marko lost boys x reader #lost boys x reader #marko lost boys #my work

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abarbaricyalp · 3 years

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@sambuckylibrary

SamBucky Halloween Prompt 5: Mausoleum

Sam meets Bucky in a mausoleum in Brooklyn (This fic is set in Brooklyn because I could not make up a reason for Bucky to be in Louisiana despite the fact that I really very badly wanted it set in Louisiana. Bucky is also slightly younger because of fic reasons.)

Rated G: Discussions of death and loss (It’s set in a mausoleum, use discretion) (AO3 link in the notes)

Title from “Little Ghost” by The White Stripes, highly encourage you to listen to the song

One I’m Most Scared Of

Sam hated funerals. He hated that his father wanted him around for them. No other seventeen year old was surrounded by so much death and mourning.

“Sam, you have a gift,” his father said. “You put others at ease just by your presence.”

Sam thought everyone else should invest in a therapist and not a high schooler.

Petulantly, he kicked his heels back against a stone bench as he stared at the walls of crypts and cremains spots. Behind him, the funeral party milled and offered condolences to the bereaved, which actually seemed like everyone in the party. Sometimes, a funeral party seemed less bereaved than relieved at these things. Sam remembered the first time he heard a man’s daughter immediately plan lunch with a group of friends without a waver to her voice or a tear on her cheek. He vowed he’d never be the kind of person that had a funeral like that.

If he even had a funeral. Putting himself in the ground in whatever clothes he died in and then becoming a tree without telling anyone was becoming a nicer and nicer option.

So, he listened to the sniffling without turning around and thought about what kind of tree he’d become. He’d already done his duties of rubbing a wife’s arm, hugging kids, tickling grandkids, listening to the same three stories a dozen times. His father couldn’t expect anything else from him. So he wasn’t thrilled when someone his age sat down beside him.

The guy was handsome in a traditional, classical sort of way. Not as boring as the rich white guys who went to Sam’s school. His hair was side parted and only long enough to make an impressive arch on his head instead of laying in his face. He had a square jaw that was a little comical and his nose was a little fucked up in a kind of endearing way. The way Sam’s best friend looked after getting beaned in the face by a wayward baseball. Like most people who came through the mausoleum, he was sad.

There was no other word for it. Sam had tried to be poetic about his time in the crypts, but there was only so much the clinical-ness of bereaved and the dramatic-ness of tortured or sobbing or anguished could do. And they were rarely entirely true. Sad was just the word for people staring at remains of someone they once loved. Sometimes the simple explanation was the most appropriate. The rest of death and grief was already so complicated. It was easier to just feel sad.

The guy was too old to be a grandkid but too young to be a kid, unless the deceased and his wife had gotten freaky in their elder age. Sam hadn’t noticed him in his previous passes of the party or from the service, where he always sat in the back and made it a game to memorize as many shades of black or ridiculous hair styles as possible.

In fact, the boy wasn’t even wearing black. He was wearing a dark brown jacket, adorned with gold accents and pins. In fact… Sam was pretty certain it was an old military dress uniform.

“Uh...are you just visiting?” Sam ventured when the guy didn’t even bother to glance over.

The guy’s mouth quirked to one side faintly. “Yeah, you could say that. That one,” he said, gesturing to an entombment with a gravemarker that read James Buchanan Barnes March 10, 1922 - February 5, 1942. Son, Brother, Friend, Hero.

“Oh,” Sam breathed and understood the weird military uniform. “Are you related to him? You do kinda look like him.”

The guy turned finally to look at Sam and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, you could say that. I’m Bucky.”

“Oh, jeez, you were named after him too.”

The guy--Bucky 2, apparently--cocked his head in a half nod. “I’m actually waiting on someone. Do you think they’ll be here much longer?” he asked, jerking his chin over to the party.

“Well, these things don’t really have a limit to how long people can be here,” Sam pointed out. “But most people get the point when they start sealing the tomb and all. Uh, this thing you’re waiting for, is it about him? Like, some kind of memorial service?”

It was neither February nor March, so Sam couldn’t imagine why there would be a memorial service for Barnes now. It had been a while since Sam’s father had done a service in Brooklyn and he’d kind of forgotten the cult status Barnes and, to a much greater extent, Rogers had in this town.

“Nah, I’m just waiting on a friend,” Bucky said.

“Well…” Sam settled back against the stone bench. “I’ll stand in for a while.”

“You wanna be my friend? Should I be worried. I think horror movies start off like this.”

“Name one horror movie that starts off in a mausoleum.”

“Murder by the Clock. Mummy’s Tomb. All the vampire movies.”

“Dracula doesn’t live in a mausoleum,” Sam argued lightly. “And I’ve never even heard of those other movies.”

“That’s ‘cause you don’t watch classics.”

“Uh-huh. Or you were just scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and knocked his shoulder against Sam’s. “Did you know…” He gestured back to the waning funeral party.

Sam shook his head. “No. My dad’s the pastor. He did the service. He likes me to be here for moral support.”

“Hell, I don’t think my parents trusted my morals as far as they could throw me,” Bucky snorted.

Sam noted the past tense but knew better than to push for information, especially in a mausoleum during a funeral of all places. “Are you a student around here?” he asked instead.

“Can’t you tell?” Bucky answered as he popped the lapels of his jacket. “I’m a soldier.”

“Right. A soldier who’s home, spending his time in mausoleums in front of his great-great uncle or something.”

“I could be a great-great grandkid. I heard he got around.”

“I heard that was all manufactured propaganda to sell a story.”

“I read it in a book.”

“And I read about time travel and aliens in a book.”

Bucky shrugged. “There are weirder things out there.”

“Right, in a world of super soldiers and Nazis with no faces,” Sam agreed drily.

“You’ll see,” Bucky assured. “Aliens and time travel are both gonna be all anyone talks about soon.”

“Y’know, I didn’t think a guy dressing up as his great-great grandpa-uncle to meet someone at his burial site would be so into sci-fi too.”

“Multitudes and all that. You know, there were half a dozen sci-fi books in his bag when his belongings were recovered.”

“I’ve heard that,” Sam said. Only because it’d been a point in the Oscar-Bait movie a few years ago. “He’d read to Rogers when he was sick.”

Bucky looked a little wistful and then nodded.”I’ve heard that too.”

“Do you ever feel pressure to be like him? Or be somethin’ you’re not, just ‘cause someone looked at your little baby face and named you after a legend?”

That wry, sad grin came back and Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Not really. Do you, though? I mean, obviously not him. But someone.”

Sam traced out the letters of the name of someone who died in 1985. A L E X A N D E R. He nodded. “Feels like everyone needs me to be someone and I let myself play that part until people stopped noticing it was a part.”

“What’s the part?” Bucky asked as he leaned back on his hands.

“I dunno. Someone who-- Well, I mean… Maybe it’s not a full part. Maybe I’m just upset that people only want me to have one kind of personality trait. I mean, everyone knows I’m kind and I’m good with words and I care about people. And I really do want to be that guy. But when I want to be that guy, y’know? Not all the time. Sometimes I want to cry and scream and rage too. Sometimes I want to be quiet for a little while and not help someone else. Just for a few hours.”

Bucky nodded and stared at the rows of internments before them. “Y’know. I’m sure people would understand that if you told them. If you said, ‘I can’t do this right now. Please let me be quiet.’”

“I know that,” Sam said softly. He tangled his fingers together in his lap. “Maybe I’m mostly angry at myself for not being able to say something like that. I’m the guy who helps. If I don’t do that, if I beg a day off, then who am I? What am I bringing to the table?”

Bucky scooted closer and put a hand on Sam’s knees. It sent a jolt through Sam’s body and he worked very hard on not jerking his gaze up to Bucky’s face. “Sam, you just said you have other personality traits, other feelings, other hobbies that aren’t hanging out in a mausoleum. That’s what you bring to the table on the days you can’t be there for everyone else.”

Sam nodded and reached up to rub two fingers under his eye. He wasn’t at full tears yet, but he also didn’t want to get any closer. “Wait, did I tell you my name?” he asked suddenly.

Bucky lifted an eyebrow again. “You must’ve. Or someone else said it earlier. The point is, you’re still you. And you bring smarts and humor and a good head around, even when you aren’t offering free therapy or a crying shoulder. And, Sam, listen, even when you don’t want to be any of that, you’re still kind. I’ve only been sitting here for a few minutes and you’ve been kind the whole time, even when you weren’t trying. It’s not a part you’re playing. Just be who you are and ask for your time when you need it. If people reflect even a quarter of the love you put out there back at you, no one will ever begrudge you some quiet.”

Sam swallowed thickly and leaned against Bucky’s shoulder heavily. Bucky moved his hand from Sam’s knee to wrap his arm around his ribs instead. “You really think I’m funny and smart?” Sam asked eventually.

“You started spouting off propaganda theories and joking about where vampires technically live. Yeah, you’re something else, man,” Bucky laughed. “And I think you’re beautiful, which people always appreciate in people they hang around with.”

Sam rolled his eyes and ignored the last comment, thankful that his skin was dark enough to hide his blush and Bucky couldn’t see the swooping of his stomach. “Well, if you think that’s impressive, I’ve got a whole list of things I think are propaganda.”

“I’d love to hear all about it some other time.”

“Is your friend here?” Sam asked, sitting back a little and glancing around.

Bucky’s eyes cast around the mausoleum briefly too. “No. I just don’t feel like listening to any propaganda tonight,” he joked.

Sam jostled his elbow into Bucky’s rib and leaned back against his side. “I can’t remember the last time I actually talked to someone in one of these things. Everything’s always so surface level here. ‘Sorry for your loss’ ‘He was a good man’ ‘Of course we’ll come by the benefit.’ None of it means anything.”

“Well, I wasn’t part of the funeral, so maybe that was a plus. I’m just some guy. Hanging out in a mausoleum.”

“Ah, you’re the vampire,” Sam said with a grin. “Maybe I should get a stake in that casket.”

“There’s no body in it,” Bucky reminded him. “They never found Rogers’ or Barnes’ body.”

“Right, right. The train and plane.”

“It’s just for show,” Bucky said. He reached out to trace his fingers along Barnes’ last name and then held his palm against the stone for a second longer.

Sam put his hand on Bucky’s knee and said quickly, like ripping a bandaid off, “Do you want to get lunch or something? With me? Now, or later. I’m not picky. And then maybe again?”

Bucky turned blue eyes back to Sam and he really did look just like all those old pictures. That same sad smile came to his mouth. “Yeah, I really, really do. Maybe later,” he said and leaned over to kiss Sam’s cheek softly.

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut and his heart kicked up so rapidly in his chest it punched the air out of his ribs.

When he managed to open his eyes again, Bucky was gone.

#sambuckyhalloween2021 #sambucky #sambucky fanfic #sambucky fanfiction #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #the falcon #the winter soldier #captain america #writing #bingo #sambucky halloween

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lucisfavoritedemon · 3 years

Text

Crossed Oceans of Time

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Y/n always thought her hope was lost till an unexpected call from an old friend has her traveling across time to save the man she thought was once lost in an ocean of time.

Warnings: angst, fluffy fluff, cursing, hopelessness (idk why I make the reader so depressed)

Word Count: 4122

A/N: This is written for @sweeterthanthis Quote Me On It 6k Challenge. The prompt I chose was “I have crossed oceans of time to find you.” -Dracula. This story takes place during the events of End Game. I have incorporated the quote into the story. It will be bolded AND italicized. All mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!

Everything I had seen had been a blur up to this point. My life flashed by so quick I never had a chance to process it all. Originally born in 1922, I never believed I would be able to see the day when technology would thrive. Here I am in 2023, 101 years later seeing the miracle of technology.

I am a super soldier. One of the first experiments before Steve Rogers, aka Captain America. I volunteered myself to Dr. Erskine's experimentation, so he could develop a better, more safe serum.

I fought by Rogers' side in many battles, including the one that would take his best friend. There is something you do not know though, of me and Sergeant Barnes.

I had fallen for him. Not just a usual school girl crush, no. It was full blown love. Like my body had been struck by lightning the moment I laid eyes on him.

I could sit and talk for hours about Bucky, and how much he meant to me, but that would be pointless. Bucky was gone and yet I couldn't move on. Something was keeping my heart from finding love again.

Steve and I fought one last time together to defeat Red Skull. We thought it was the end for us, that we would be with Bucky again, but fate is a cruel mother thing. Oddly enough, the serum in our veins stopped our bodies from dying. It preserved us and helped us stay alive.

When I woke up, all I remembered was crashing the ship. I had no recollection of anything else after. That's when we found out we were in the year 2012. For 70 years we were on ice. Poor Steve was heartbroken about Peggy, and I couldn't help but wish I was with Bucky.

Time flew by like it was nothing, and all I felt I did was stand still and watch it go by. Steve and I had parted ways after we got back. I was hired to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. which I didn’t mind till in 2014 it all came crashing down. Almost quite literally. S.H.I.E.L.D. had HYDRA growing right under its nose. I was again left alone with nothing but a shattered heart.

Nick Fury tried to help me get back onto my feet but I wanted nothing to do with him, or anyone anymore. I was too heartbroken to even think about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I really just wanted my Bucky back. That’s all I could ever ask of the world.

Five years ago, something happened. I felt like my life had fallen apart again. All the friends I had attempted to make, all disappeared. I wasn’t the only one who lost people they loved and cared for. I finally felt maybe other people out there were feeling the same way I did.

Here in 2023, I have been without the love of my life for almost 80 years. I kept asking why I got to live while he was taken from the world so soon. I never got the answer to that rhetorical question, asked to no one in particular. That was till I got a peculiar call from an unknown number. I answered it hoping it would be the reaper I hoped to be greeted by to take me to the love of my life.

“Y/n?” It was a voice I hadn’t heard in almost a decade. One I thought I’d probably never hear again either.

“Steve.” I sounded cheery for once since I had been out of the ice.

“Hey. How are you doing? I know it’s been years since we talked, but I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a drive? Just you and me.” He asked, and I could tell he was smiling some on the other end.

“That sounds lovely, Steve. I’ve been hanging in there. Since S.H.I.E.L.D. and the whole HYDRA thing, I’ve just been laying low.”

“Where are you living now?” Steve queried.

“I’m living in Brooklyn actually. In my old neighborhood.

“You used to live in Brooklyn before the war?”

“Yep. I actually lived above the antique shop. You know the one.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know we lived so close, yet we never met you till Erskine introduced us.”

“Yeah. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel the way I do now…” I sounded melancholy.

“I’m not too far from where you are. Meet where the antique shop used to be. We can talk more then, I have something I think you would love to hear.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you there.” I said, and hung up quickly. I knew there was nothing he could have told me that would make me jump for joy. He couldn’t say anything that would make my smile come back. It was gone, and faded with time.

I met him where that antique shop used to be, and I could almost picture it all. The cobblestone streets, the kids playing baseball, the world used to be a different place back then. It’s not like it was anymore, and I wish that it kind of was.

“Hey.” Steve smiled, walking up to me.

“Hi.” I gave a small smile, but he could tell I had sadness written all over my face.

“What’s wrong?” Concern spread across his face.

“Nothing. This is just how I smile now.”

“Whoever took away your beautiful, contagious smile is going to pay.”

“Time took my smile away.”

“”Come on. I want to talk to you about something.” His smile grew wider as he led me to his car.

He opened the door for me, and I climbed in. I buckled up as he climbed into the driver’s seat. We headed out of the city, down the countryside. The scenery was beautiful, but I still couldn’t bring myself to start a conversation.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. I have been for 11 years. What’s 40 more gonna do right?” I gave an extremely sad smile.

“Is this about Bucky?”

“There were so many times in my life where we could have met. Maybe just a year longer with him, and I would be able to move on, or maybe not. I was in love with him, Steve. The way I felt the night we first met, it was like everything in my life finally made sense. I felt like I had a purpose.”

“He’s actually the reason I wanted to talk to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was alive. I need your help getting him back.”

“What do you mean? That’s impossible. We both watched him die.”

“Remember when all those men were captured from the 107th, including Bucky, back in ‘43?”

“Yeah, and we went to rescue them.”

“Bucky was experimented on by Armin Zola. Turned into a super soldier himself.”

“Okay and?”

“Whatever Zola did to him, it helped him survive the fall.”

“So what I’m understanding is, you knew he was alive this entire time, and you’re just now telling me about it?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I need your help getting him back now.”

“Okay. You keep saying that, but if he is alive, why would we need to get him back?”

“Remember 5 years ago when half the earth’s population just vanished?”

“Yeah?”

“Bucky was part of that half.”

“And you think we can get him back?”

“I think we can bring back all the life lost 5 years ago. It requires us going back in time though.”

“Time travel? You’re promising time travel in a time where we thought flying cars were going to be a thing.”

“It’s possible though. We’ve tested it, and everything is up and working. We have all the dates in order, we just need the man power.”

“Alright, if it means bringing Bucky back, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

Steve drove us to a huge building practically in the middle of nowhere. There I was greeted by a group of people, one of which I recognized from a brief meeting years ago. The others I didn’t know. I mean one man looked oddly familiar, but I could quite put my finger on where I had seen him before.

“Everyone, this is Y/n. She is an old friend of mine.” Steve introduced me.

“I may be old, but I sure don’t feel like it.”

“Join the club.” Steve chuckled.

“I’m Natasha. We met briefly in D.C. a few years back.” The woman I had recognized approached.

“Yes, I remember you. It’s nice to officially meet you on slightly good terms. While not being utterly terrified by a man with a metal arm.” I smiled slightly, trying to imagine how it would feel to see Bucky once more.

“So how do you two know each other?” The man that I swore looked familiar, spoke up.

“Steve and I fought together during the war.”

“Does that mean she also knew Barnes?” The man questioned.

“Yes. She did. In fact they were together for two years before HYDRA took him.”

“How does he know about Bucky?” I asked, growing concerned.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m Tony Stark by the way.” The man spoke up, and everything was now coming together.

“I knew you looked familiar to me somehow. You look just like your father.”

“Yeah, well, join the club with everyone who says that.” Tony sounded irritated.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Y/n, it’s alright.” Steve spoke up before Tony could say anything.

He could probably tell I was freaking out. My goal was to help, not make things worse. I could tell by just opening my mouth, I was doing just that. Steve started to rub my back to calm me down.

“Is everything okay?” Natasha asked.

“She’s been through a lot. She didn’t even know Bucky was alive until a couple hours ago.” Steve replied.

“For so long I wished that something would happen so I could be back in his arms again. Now, I have a chance to see him again, and not in the afterlife. He is the man of my dreams, the love of my life. I have never felt this way about anyone before, and the fact that I have tried to move on, but couldn't just shows that I truly did love him.”

“Does she know about him?” Tony asked.

“Not about that. She doesn’t need to know.” Steve stated sternly.

“Know about what? Steve? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Stark, I agree with Steve. If she knew about him, her opinion of him may change.” Natasha interjected.

“She deserves to know the man she loved then will not be the man she is getting back.”

“What are you all going on about?”

“Barnes was the man with the metal arm you spoke of.” Tony blurted out.

“You’re wrong. Bucky would never hurt anyone. He was someone who put others before himself. He would never kill anyone.”

Steve just gave an angry look to Tony. I didn’t know who to believe. Natasha just gave me an apologetic look. I couldn’t read anyone, they all seemed to look angry or apologetic, and I didn;t know who to believe.

“Maybe the Barnes you knew wouldn’t, but over 70+ years, people change.” Tony stated before walking inside.

“Steve? Was Bucky really the man with the metal arm? If he was, I want to know. It won’t change how I feel. I just need to know, so I can help him when he comes back.”

“Yes. He was what the world knew as the Winter Soldier. He isn;t like that anymore. I promise, but he is broken and traumatized from what HYDRA did to him.”

“Understandable. Now let’s go get him and everyone else back.” I smiled, and walked inside. I didn’t have to fake one anymore. I was just happy that I finally had the chance to see Bucky again. That maybe seeing each other again could mend our souls a little bit.

Steve led me to a room where he told me to suit up. I threw on the suit laid out for me, and met the others on the main level. Steve handed me two little vials which he told me would help take me where I needed to be. He told me I was to stay with him to make sure nothing happened to me. I was perfectly okay with that.

We were all ready to find these stones. Steve showed me a picture of the stones him, Tony, Scott, and I were to be getting. I just wanted to get this over with, to be with Bucky once more. I have waited a long time for this moment, and I just couldn’t wait any longer.

“Everyone ready?” Bruce asked.

“See you guys in a minute.” Natasha smiled.

We all shrunk down, and our groups went separate ways. I made sure to not lose sight of Steve as we landed in our desired time. We all started walking the tattered streets of New York City, and I knew where we had landed.

“Banner, you find the time stone, Stark and Lang, you two get the tesseract. I’ll get the scepter.” Steve directed.

“What about me?” I asked, curious what my task would be.

“You are staying right here. We’ll all meet right back here once we have secured our items.”

“Why am I here then if you don’t need me?”

“In case things go south.”

I roll my eyes, “fine. I’ll stay here.”

“Thank you.”

They all walk off, and I stay put where they told me to. I listen to them talking on comms to each other. They were pretty entertaining if I was being honest. That was until they started saying they lost the tesseract. Things looked hopeless now.

“What are we gonna do now? The tesseract is gone, and we don’t have any more of the capsules.” Scott paced.

“I have an extra capsule that will get me where I want to be. Please let me do this Steve?”

“Fine. I think I have an idea where you might be going. Just be careful okay?” He hands me something, “put it in here when you grab it.”

“I will. I promise I’ll be careful. I’ll see you guys when I have aquired the tesseract.” I smile.

I plug in the time and date that I wanted, and shrunk down traveling back to January 1945. The day Steve and I put the plane in the water. I remember seeing Red Skull holding it that day, right before he disappeared actually. Maybe that’s what Steve meant by ‘be careful’.

I headed straight to the hanger, and climbed inside. I hid until I knew it was safe to come out. Which meant waiting till Red Skull took off. I waited for Steve, and I to start fighting Red Skull. I came out and prepared to grab the tesseract. I had the special case Steve handed me before I left.

When Red Skull disappeared, and Steve and I went to man the ship, I grabbed the tesseract. I plugged in the date to head back, and shrunk down again, heading back to the correct timeline. I arrived as everyone else returned as well. I looked around to make sure everyone was there, but one person was missing.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Bruce asked, looking at Clint.

“Barton, where is she?” Tony asked, being more stern.

“She’s gone...it should have been me.” He sounded so sad. I felt for him. I knew how it felt to lose someone I cared so much about.

They all gathered by the water mourning Natasha’s sacrifice. I let them have their moment. It wasn’t my place to be with them while they grieved. It just didn’t seem right, or fair to them. I sat in the lab waiting for them to come back, and assemble the gauntlet.

Steve walked in and sat next to me, “how did it go?”

“It went well. It was weird seeing Red Skull and you, and me. I think I managed well though. Why did you give me an extra capsule?”

“I figured you would go and help us, then I’d let you go and be with Bucky. Get the time you lost back.”

“That makes no sense if I lose him in the end anyways.”

“Maybe part of me hoped you would change his fate. That way you never lost him. You would never have to know what it was like to lose him.”

“That’s really sweet of you Steve, but I don’t think that would be right. For me or him.”

“I understand. I just want you to know that your pain hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“I’m glad it hasn’t, but I really wish you knew how much I needed you too. I didn’t just miss Bucky, you were my friend too.”

“I know, but you haven’t been the same since you thought he died. You have been more closed off, you don’t smile, or laugh like you used to. I just want you to be happy again. I want to see that beautiful smile, and hear your contagious laugh once more.”

“You will again one day. Right now though, you need to help the others make this gauntlet.” I gave a half smile before moving out of the way so the others could do their job.

I sat outside with my eyes closed. Just waiting for someone to walk up to me and make sure I was okay. The light from the sun was dimmed like a shadow moved in front of me. I smiled before opening my eyes, thinking that Steve, or maybe Bucky, was standing in front of me. When I looked, I saw something that looked like a meteor heading right for the building.

I tried to run inside, but it was too late. The ball, or cannon, or whatever had already hit the building. I wiggle my way out from under the debris, but I could tell I had a pretty severe wound on my abdomen. I tried to call out to someone, but I got no response. I hoped that everyone was alright.

I finally was able to stand up, and walked outside. There I saw Thor standing, and watching someone. I walked over to him, putting pressure on my side to make sure I stopped the bleeding. That’s when I saw Steve walking up to him too.

“What’s he doing?” Steve asked, looking where Thor was looking.

“He’s just sitting there.” Thor responded. “He doesn’t have the gauntlet right?”

“Not that I can see.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” Steve said, walking over to me.

“Who is that guy?” I asked, looking confused.

“That’s Thanos. He’s the reason half the earth’s population disappeared 5 years ago.”

“Did he figure out what we were planning?”

“It’s not the same Thanos. The one from our time, Thor killed him.” Steve said, walking over to him.

“I used to think that destroying half the planet's life would be good enough, but the other half that stuck around seems to be ungrateful. Looks like I may have to destroy this world, and create a new one, one that will be grateful for the world I have provided.”

That’s when Thor charged at Thanos, and the fight began. Tried to fight as much as I could, but I was losing more and more blood every second. I ran at him, thinking he was going to hurt Steve, but he stopped me and threw me against some rubble. I attempted to get up, but the pain was too much to fight anymore.

I watched as Steve prepared to fight by himself. I wish I had the strength to stand up and fight next to him. I just couldn’t bear the pain anymore. That’s when I heard a voice over comms that sounded kind of familiar.

“Cap, can you read me. On your left.” The voice said, and these vortex-like things opened up, and out walked three people.

Steve turned to me, and saw that I was on the ground. He reached his hand out to me, and I took it, standing up. He smiled at me, and prepared to fight. That’s when armies of people walked through these vortexes. I stayed close to Steve, finding comfort in the one person I knew fairly well.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’ll be okay. I just want this douchebag dead. He took Bucky away, and now he wants to destroy the entirety of planet earth. He deserves what’s coming to him.”

Steve smiled, “you really haven’t changed a bit. More depressed than what I remember, but your attitude is still the same.” He chuckled lightly.

I giggled, and prepared to fight to the end. I didn’t care if I died, I just wanted Steve and Bucky to live. Steve stood at the front of the army he was leading, perhaps into our last battle. I was ready to do anything. I had found my hidden strength to keep fighting till I physically couldn’t keep fighting anymore. That was quicker to come than I thought. I knew I was losing a lot of blood, but I didn’t know how quickly. Turns out when Thanos threw makeup against the rubble, I created an even bigger wound.

Only a few minutes into the now fair fight, I started to get really dizzy. I tried to grab a hold of someone before I fell, but there was no one around me. I hit the ground and I was out for the count.

~*~

I don’t know how long I had been out for, or if I was still even alive. To my surprise, and Steve’s happiness, I was.

“Hey there sweetheart.” Steve smiled, gripping my hand tightly.

“Did we win?” Of course that would be my first question. It was the first question I asked when we came out of the ice.

He chuckled, but his look turned sad, “we won, but we lost at the same time.”

“What do you mean? Did he snap them away again?” My heart was pounding in my chest. The fear painted across my face.

“No. Everyone who disappeared is back, but Tony...he snapped Thanos and his army away, but he didn’t make it.” Steve gave me an extremely sad look.

I squeezed his hand, not even paying attention to the fact someone had just walked into the room. I didn’t even notice the person till Steve looked over to them, and got up. I couldn’t quite tell who it was because where they were standing was kind of dark. That and my eyes were fully adjusted yet, but I could tell they were tall and well built, they also had semi-long hair.

“Go on. She’s been waiting.” Steve spoke up, seeing me stare at them.

The person came closer, and I was met with their mesmerizing blue eyes. I smiled at them as they came over to sit down. He seemed closed off, or just really shy. I couldn’t quite get a read on him for whatever reason.

“Hey.” He gave a very small smile, almost shy.

“Hey.” I smile more.

“I’ve missed that smile.” Steve spoke up.

I giggled, “well it’s thanks to you that I feel like I can be happy again.”

The man sitting next to me just looked down. I put my hand out for him to take. He grabbed it very gently. It was colder than I thought it would be. I looked down, and saw a metal hand. He tried to pull away, but I gripped his hand tight.

“You’re not scared?” He asked.

“Because I have crossed oceans of time to find you.” I smile wide, bringing his hand to my lips, kissing it gently.

Steve smiled, “you knew it was him the whole time didn’t you?”

“Of course. Those eyes are unforgettable, and his voice is unmistakable.” I felt the hand around mine tighten, and his smile got bigger.

“I’ve missed you doll. I’ve missed you so much.” Bucky spoke.

“I missed you too. I never thought that I would ever see you again.”

We stared lovingly at each other for a while. Enjoying just taking in the fact that he was back into my life. That I had him back. That the best thing that ever happened to me was back. It was the best feeling in the world, one that I thought I would never be able to feel again. I finally felt like my heart had been put back together, and Bucky held the mold in his hands.

#quotemeonit6kchallenge #bucky x reader #steve x platonic!reader #avengers: endgame #The Avengers

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Day 27: Intrulogical (TW)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 27 - Your eyes match your soulmate’s hair color. If they dye their hair, your eyes change colors.

TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!! Attempted rape (by unnamed OC), drugging, implied underage drinking (though none is actually seen), emetophobia/vomiting, Halloween, alcohol, characters being tipsy/drunk, parties. Happy/satisfying ending.

Word count: 4.7k

Logan lived his life based on routine. In a world of constant change, it felt comforting to always know what his next step was. His mornings always started the same; wake up at seven o’clock sharp, sneak to the dorm bathroom in an attempt to not wake his essentially nocturnal roommate, and brush his teeth. Wet the toothbrush, pea sized amount of toothpaste, wet the brush again, and start on the left side of his mouth. Brush for exactly two minutes, wash face, and then attempt to calm down the bedhead. He’d sneak back into the room, change silently, and then make his way to the shared kitchen to make cereal for breakfast. The only variable in his routine was which fruit he’d eat along with his Cheerios. Then he’d triple check that all of his homework was packed properly, and head off to his morning class.

Except today.

For someone who rarely got distracted from his normal routine, he was surprisingly still as he glared, shocked, into his reflection. Water still dripped off his face and all over the counter, but he couldn’t tear his attention from it. Because his normally dark brown eyes were now neon green.

“Are you kidding me?!” He yelled before he could stop himself, storming back into their room and dropping back onto his bed.

“What’s’it?” Virgil mumbled, lifting his exhausted face from where they’d been smooshed into the pillows. Logan spun his face up towards the top bunk, jaw clenched, and gestured towards his eyes.

“I have a presentation today!” Logan continued, looking away from Virgil’s failed attempt to cover a smile, “And I look ridiculous! No one will take me seriously!”

“Just in time for Halloween, I guess. They just look like contacts.”

“Hallow-” Logan sprung to his desk to look at his calendar accusingly, groaning when he realized it was in fact the thirty first. “Ugh, I have a paper due tomorrow!”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out of the party now, Lo. I already promised people I’d go, and I’m not going alone.”

“I won’t back out of the party,” Logan grumbled, crossing his arms. Virgil gave a satisfied hum, flopping back into his comforter. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled.

“Out of all people, I’m surprised you forgot.”

“So sue me, if a frivolous game of promiscuous dress up comes after passing my classes in the list of importance.”

The emo snorted. “What’s your costume gonna be?”

“I am not wearing a costume!” Logan’s voice was almost offended.

“You already look like a traffic light. Might as well complete the look.”

Logan grumbled angrily, marching back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “I’m not wearing a costume. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Aw, c’mon, Lo. For me?”

That stopped Logan in his tracks. He spun around and took a careful breath, glaring down his overly pleased roommate. “Fine. Just for you.”

Virgil gave another satisfied hum, before squinting his eyes at Logan scrutinizingly. “I wonder if your eyes glow in the dark. Can you imagine if the prof turns the lights off for a presentation and-”

“UUUGGHHH!” Logan yowled as he slammed the bathroom door shut, shaking his head at Virgil’s snickers.

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

They were meeting up at the party at the end of classes (right about when Virgil tended to wake up), so Logan headed there directly after his final class, just as the evening sun was fading behind the horizon. It was already packed with people already picking the snack and drinks table bare, a lopsided sign that said ‘21+ only’ forgotten near an empty beer box. If Logan were to assume correctly, the sign was only there to assuage the conscience of whoever was hosting tonight, and not actually to stop the underage drinking. Even if he was above legal drinking age, he still didn’t experience many of the positives of drinking, so he grabbed a can of iced tea and stood next to a wall to wait for Virgil.

It hadn’t been a full five minutes before a man sidled up to him, sipping from a half empty beer bottle and watching Logan with a careful eye. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in return, barely acknowledging the newcomer’s presence.

“What’s a wallflower like you doing at a rager like this?” He drawled with an almost audible impish smile.

“If this is considered a rager, I’d hate to see what a calm party looks like.”

“Aw, we just haven’t gotten started yet! We’re fueling up for when the moon comes out. And you haven’t answered my question, flower.”

“I’m simply waiting for a friend.”

“Oh, and does this friend have a name?” He purred.

Frustrated, Logan turned to the man, and promptly froze. Looking down at him with pitch black eyes was a person in a costume he couldn’t recognize; a black and white striped suit that looked like he’d raked it through dust, and a mold green tie. The stubble on his face could have been his own five o’clock shadow or makeup, but it only functioned to make him look far hotter than what was fair. What was most shocking though, and Logan was baffled that he’d missed it in the initial approach, was the mop of electric-shock-straight neon green hair on his head.

“He- I don’t-”

“Didn’t take you for the type to get flustered,” The man snorted, taking another sip. “What do you have? Aw, iced tea? And not even spiked? A crime.”

How did he not see Logan’s eyes? The hair was the exact same color; Logan would know. He’d spend the whole day watching his reflection, hoping that his soulmate would have some mercy and dye their hair back to its original color. Neon green was not exactly the most subtle color, and he had not missed the snickers or silent glances from his classmates and professors all day. So the question remained, why wasn’t this guy saying anything?

“I don’t drink. I tend to just become lethargic when I do.” He answered instead, gripping his can a little tighter. It took far too much effort to keep his voice from straining.

“Fair enough. I’m not pressuring you to drink, no worries. At least we’ll have one sober mind at this party tonight.” The taller man winked at him, flashing him that stupidly stunning smile again.

But then it occurred to Logan as he kept searching the man’s dark eyes desperately. His eyes were too dark, almost pitch black, while Logan’s hair was several shades lighter. So... there was no way they were soulmates. Just as quickly as the hope had exploded in his stomach, it dissipated, leaving him feeling more exhausted than usual. Stupid feelings.

“Logan, there you are!” An unusually loud voice called through his stupor and he spun around to see Virgil’s fanged smile. In the back of his mind, he remembered watching Virgil putting together his elaborate vampire costume over the last few weeks, but he’d never seen the full thing put together until now. “Ah, and Remus found you. Scram, Beetlejuice.”

Remus, apparently, didn’t seem at all offended by the jab. Instead, he seemed to smile wider. “Nice to see you too, emo. Is that any way to treat the host of the party?”

To Logan’s surprise, Virgil smiled too. “Oh, shut up. You’re going to give Logan a heart attack.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Dracula. Why don’t you go get a drink, and I’ll keep him company?”

“Nuh uh. No way. Not leaving him with you any longer than I have already.” With that, Virgil hooked his arm through Logan’s and led him back to the drink table.

“Remember, Virgil, drinks are only for the big kids!”

“I’m older than you are!” He flipped the bird over Logan’s shoulder to the host, earning a barked laugh in response. “He never lets me forget I’m a whole three inches shorter than him.”

“You know the host of the party?”

Virgil hummed in response, pouring himself a cup of punch that reeked of alcohol. “How else would I get invited? We were in English together in third year, and I haven’t been able to shake him since. He’s like a leech.”

“You seem friendly with him.”

The elder froze, solo cup barely touching his lips as he looked over Logan slowly. “Everything okay? You’re not usually this… quiet.” They could both tell it wasn’t the word he’d wanted to use.

For a brief moment, Logan considered telling Virgil about his brief flair of hope, about how for a single second he’d felt nothing but relief and desire and elation, and how it had been ripped away from him just as quickly. But then he realized that, no, Virgil didn’t need that to bring down the mood of the first party he’d attended in a year, since his anxiety had flared. If it still bothered him after the party, he’d bring it up. That was unlikely, though. Logan was especially gifted in the art of repression.

“I’m just a tad out of my element. Nothing to worry about,” he responded with a smile. Virgil didn’t fall for it, if the way he watched Logan as he sipped his drink was anything to go off of, but he did them both the favor of not pushing it. For now.

“I thought I told you to wear a costume,” Virgil gasped as he drained the cup, immediately refilling it from the same bowl.

“I did.” Logan gestured towards the single piece of paper taped to his white shirt. It took Virgil a moment to squint through the darkening light to make-out the black sharpie, reading allowed.

“‘Error 404, Costume Not Found.’ That does not count, Logan!” He laughed nonetheless, just as a deep bass filled the house. Apparently, the party had begun. He didn’t have a good argument for Virgil’s accusation, since he technically thought it very much did count, but arguing with the other was a waste of time. The two men were equally matched in the stubbornness department.

The lights disappeared for a good few seconds before the house was illuminated in strobe lights, and the music’s volume exploded. Virgil laughed giddily; apparently his plan to get buzzed before the party could give him anxiety was intentional.

“They do, ya know.”

Logan looked at him in confusion, and shouted over the roaring music. “What?”

“Your eyes! They do glow in the dark!”

“Shut up!”

“You look like a glowstick!” He began to giggle wildly, leaning on Logan for support.

“No more drinks for a good half hour, Virge,” Logan chided gently, replacing his solo cup with a water bottle from the table. Virgil whined but plucked out his vampire fangs so he could drink from the small spout easier.

“Let’s dance,” Virgil said, grabbing Logan’s arm and leading him into the crowd.

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

Logan guessed it was well past midnight when Virgil tugged on his arm for the third time, leaning close to his ear and shouting that he had to go to the bathroom.

“Again?!” Logan called back at the vampire’s back. There was no malice in his words, not when he knew Virgil had been anxious to go to this party and he tended to drink more water when he was anxious. It was just all coming back for revenge now.

To Logan’s delight, the excitement of the party had started to push out the event from earlier. His mood was no longer dampened by the let down of what he thought was meeting his soulmate, and he could finally enjoy the one event he allowed himself to go to this semester. School was important, but he allowed this for Virgil. He hadn’t expected himself to have a good time as well.

It wasn’t even a minute after Virgil had left that there was a loud shout and Logan was jostled harshly to the side, the front of his shirt immediately soaking red from the cup of punch spilled on him. His own drink clattered to the floor.

“Shit, babe, I’m so sorry!” A man Logan didn’t recognize started to pat at his chest with a handful of tissues, an action that for some reason caused the smaller man to cringe.

“No worries. It was bound to happen eventually. Perhaps a white shirt wasn’t my smartest idea,” He responded sharply, taking the tissues from the other and dabbing himself off to the best of his abilities. Slightly relieved that he now had a valid reason, he ripped off his poor attempt at a costume and crumpled up the soaking wet paper in the hand not trying in vain to dry himself. Despite Logan obviously being uninterested, the taller man stayed where he was, watching Logan’s actions with fierce intensity. His lip curled as his eyes trailed down the now nearly see-through shirt.

“If you wanted, I could get that shirt off of you. Fool around, give it some time to dry?”

“I’m so flattered,” Logan deadpanned, “But no thanks.”

“Aw, too bad,” The man cooed, shrugging. His demeanor did a full one-eighty, his predatory gaze replaced with innocence, “Was worth a try. Let me at least get you a new drink, since I ruined your other one.”

“That’s not necessary-”

“I insist.” He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder, causing a tingling cold to spread through his whole body. The smaller man barely contained a shudder as the man gave him another wolf like grin before disappearing into the crowd towards the drinks table.

Logan was hoping he’d forgotten, and just wouldn’t come back, but the man reappeared in moments, popping open a pink lemonade and handing it to him.

“Saw your other drink was non-alcoholic, so I got the only other one left.”

“Uhm…” Logan looked critically at the can, his alarm bells flaring. But… he’d seen the man open it, right? So it’s not as if he could have done something to it. Perhaps this guy really did have the right intentions, just an iffy way of showing them. “Thank you.”

He took a sip as the man smiled with too much teeth. “So, are you here alone?”

“No,” Logan responded a little less coolly, “I’m here with a friend. He just went to the bathroom.” Another sip.

“Oh, that’s fun! Are you guys in the same year?”

“Yes. We are both fourth years.” The man was acting kinder, and Logan was starting to consider that perhaps their initial meeting had been a misunderstanding on his part. Maybe he had just wanted to help out, but Logan, being cynical as always, had assumed the worst. Wasn’t that just like him, though? Always so quick to conclusions, ruining good things before they have a chance to happen. Trying to chase away his annoyance with himself and the bitter taste it had left on his tongue, he took a longer swig of the can.

“Hey, me too! I’m an English major, what about you?”

“Business with an astronomy minor.”

“That sounds difficult. How many semester hours are you clocking at right now?”

“I… uhm…” And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember. It was a high number, he knew for sure. He shook his head. “Fifteen, sixteen? Maybe seventeen?”

The man whistled. “Damn, impressive. Remind me of your name, again?”

Had he told him in the first place? “Logan.”

“And what brings a studious man such as yourself to a party like this?”

“My- My friend.” Logan couldn’t help shake his head again, hoping the fog in his mind would scatter. That’s what he got, staying out this late when his sleep schedule was usually so precise. “He doesn’t like… parties. So he asked…” He blinked hard a couple times, finding himself swaying on his feet. “He asked me…”

“Hey, are you okay?” The man placed his hand on his arm in an ironclad grip, holding him steady, “Logan, can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I… Dizzy,” He murmured, reaching up blearily and grabbing onto him.

“Are you dehydrated? Maybe you should drink some more.”

What were the symptoms of dehydration again? Dizziness, check. Fatigue, check. Confusion, check. Thirst? Yeah, he could drink something, but he’d been drinking all night, so why…

The can dropped from his hand, the second one tonight, and he tried weakly to pull away. Instead of letting him go, the man pulled him closer, wrapping an arm bruisingly tight around his waist.

“You… you drugged-”

“You don’t look so good, Logan. Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down, yeah?”

“No, I don’t…” He was unable to escape, barely able to keep his feet under him, as the man started dragging him to the stairs. Where the hell is Virgil? Logan could feel tears pricking his eyes as his breathing hitched, and for the first time in years, he felt real panic. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t-

“Let him the fuck go!”

A voice distinctly not Virgil’s shouted over the music, and Logan didn’t even dare hope it’s directed at the man still clutching him. His luck would never be that good. But through his blurry vision, a pin striped blob with a mess of green hair breaks through the crowd, marching distinctly up to them.

“He came here with me.” Logan could just make out the stronger man’s words through his dizzied state. “He just had a bit too much to drink. I’m going to let him lay down.”

“Like hell you are. Give him to me.”

“How dare you-”

“Logan. Doesn’t. Drink. And I know who he came here with.” Remus snarled, edging towards the duo threateningly, “Now let go of him before I break your fucking jaw.”

With almost as much physical relief as emotional, the man finally released his painful hold on Logan and shoved his way through the crowd, the distant shouts of inconvenienced partygoers near the door the only signal that he’d completely left.

For all his effort, Logan couldn’t hold himself up and collapsed. At first the feeling of strong arms picking him up bridal style caused him to panic and he lashed out, feebly hitting the chest of whoever was holding him. Realizing they were now walking up the stairs, the same place the other man had been pulling him, caused his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Woah there, Lo. You’re okay. It’s just me, it’s Remus, okay? Take a deep breath, just relax. I won’t hurt you.”

For some reason that Logan couldn’t fathom, the words calmed him down. Somewhere, Logan acknowledged that even though Virgil had known Remus for a while, Logan had only talked to him for a total of five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t trust an essential stranger when he’s like this. He’s just too tired to fight though, no matter how his adrenaline is pumping.

“V’rg’l,” Logan whimpered, clutching Remus' shirt with all the strength of a wet leaf, “W’nt h’m.”

“I’ll get Virgil as soon as you’re safe, okay? Don’t worry,” Remus’ soothing voice rumbled through Logan from where he was pressed to the taller’s chest, making his eyelids flutter. His arms felt like over boiled pasta and his stomach was doing flips, but Remus’ voice broke through the fog he was in and settled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the drugs.

“We’re at the top of the stairs now, okay? I’ll take you to my room, since it’s the only one with a lock. So we know there won’t be any horny college kids in there, making a mess of my sheets. Gotta unlock it without dropping you, hold on, and… A HAH! Got it. You want the light on or off?”

Logan couldn’t compute the question, much less make a choice. He made a sound that was slightly reminiscent of a stalled car engine, letting his head loll towards the lump that he assumed was a bed.

“Let’s compromise.” With all the care in the world, Logan was placed onto the sheets and gently rolled onto his side, a heavy comforter pulled up to his shoulders. Remus shifted away and a dim light flashed through his eyelids, enough to notice but definitely not enough to hurt his throbbing head. A table lamp, probably.

“No falling asleep on me, okay? You need to stay awake. I don’t know what that fucker gave you. I’m texting Virgil now, he’ll be here soon. Just keep your eyes open.”

Logan opened his eyes despite his overwhelming urge to sleep, and was immediately assaulted by a swirl of colors as the world tilted. An explosion of nausea tilted him forward and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

“‘m g’nna-” He didn’t have to finish his sentence before there was a plastic garbage can under his cheek and he heaved, throwing up the remnants of dinner and all he drank that evening. He didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed as he flopped back down onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut again.

“Oh, Logan,” Remus whispered.

There was a pounding on the door and Logan didn’t even have the energy to flinch from the violent sound. Remus stood quickly and unlocked it, barely opening it before someone barreled into the room, the newcomer gasping for breath.

“What the fuck happened?!” Virgil screamed, dropping on his knees next to the bed, hand reaching up to lay on Logan’s cheek.

“He got roofied by some motherfucker I haven’t seen before. I caught him in the stairwell before anything happened.” Remus was still standing by the open door. The music was flowing in louder now, and Virgil’s raged shouting wasn’t helping his headache at all.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever did this. I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Virgil, you’re real hot when you’re pissed, but calm the hell down. Yelling won’t help Logan.”

“You’re… shit, you’re right. Okay. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Watch him. Keep him on his side, bin’s to your left if he has to hurl again. I’m cutting this shit show.”

Logan finally cracked his eyes open as the door shut, Virgil leaning backwards to lock it. When he turned back and saw his friend’s eyes open, he almost wept.

“I’m so sorry Lo, I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“‘s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. I got distracted talking to someone, but I should have come back sooner. You could’ve… You could’ve been…”

“Not y’r fa’lt,” Logan mumbled, reaching over blindly to try and find Virgil’s hand. The other must have sensed his intentions and gripped onto the flailing limb, interlocking their fingers.

“You better not be blaming yourself.”

Technically, he was. He should have been more careful, shouldn’t have taken a drink from a stranger, should have noticed something was off the moment his mind started to fade. Never in his life would he say that this kind of situation was the victim’s fault but… he couldn’t help it when it came to himself. He’d always been self critical that way. Bringing this up to Virgil would be a death wish, though, and an argument he certainly did not have the energy for right now.

The music cut off downstairs and Logan sighed in relief, nearly smiling at Remus’ shout for everyone to get out of his house. For someone he’d met once, he was protective, that was for sure.

Virgil didn’t force him to talk. They both just enjoyed the silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional shout from downstairs and Virgil’s sniffles. Logan couldn’t exactly blame him; he’d cry too if he had the brainpower. He didn’t though, which was the problem, so he allowed his hand to be held and allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of a thumb brushing over his knuckles.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Virgil reached over to unlock it, allowing Remus to walk back in. “Sorry that took so long. Wanted to double check that anyone using someone else as a crutch was black out drunk, not drugged. Here, sit him up.”

Virgil shifted so he was behind Logan and pulled him up against him, holding him steady as Remus lifted a glass of water to his lips. “You have to be thirsty. Do your best to keep this down, Lo.” Suddenly realizing how thirsty he actually was, Logan downed half the glass before Remus pulled it away. “Not so much, you’ll get sick.” There was a clink as the glass was placed on the bed side table. “We need to take him to the hospital. I don’t know how much whatever the fucker gave him.”

“I’m too drunk to drive,” Virgil said, gently lowering Logan back onto his side.

“I didn’t drink that much, but I’m not safe either. You got a friend who can take us?”

“Yeah,” The shorter mumbled as he shakily typed in his phone password, “I’m going to call Patton, just a second.” He moved to the furthest corner of the small room and the conversation faded into the background. At least Virgil was talking… that meant Patton picked up, right?

“Shitty way to end a pretty spectacular holiday,” Remus stated as he sat back on his spot, letting a hand rest on Logan’s leg.

“‘m s’rry.”

“Ah, shit, that’s not what I meant. I’m mad for you, not at you. Ya know,” As he spoke, he reached up and did something to his eyes, almost picking at them, “Halloween’s the only valid holiday in my book. Christmas is too overrated, Easter is senseless, Thanksgiving? No thanks, I don’t glorify genocide. But Halloween? I get to dress slutty or spooky or fucking ridiculous, and no one can give me two shits about it. I get to throw ragers and stab gourds into faces and buy discount candy until I’m fifty percent chocolate. I mean, I dyed my hair green for it, paid extra for the glow in the dark shit, and all I got were compliments.”

His hands had returned to his lap and he was fiddling with something. Logan tried to make out what it was, but it just looked like black plastic. Tiny, flexible pieces of black plastic. That Remus had pulled from his eyes.

They were colored contacts.

“I guess I do kind of blame Roman for getting me into Beetlejuice, but it is one of his least favorite musicals, so it’s also a bit of a ‘fuck you’ to him-”

“R’mus,” He breathed, and even that faint call was enough to snap Remus back to him. The taller man turned to him immediately, and Logan forgot how to breathe.

Because his eyes were brown, and in the dim light of the single lamp, they absolutely shone.

His eyes were the same brown as Logan’s hair, and Logan’s eyes became that offensive green around the same time as Remus dyed his for the costume, and that’s all the confirmation Logan needed to push himself up onto the hands and lunge forward to kiss him. The effort is strenuous and the lurch almost makes him heave again, but oh Lord, he just found his soulmate and it’s actually him and-

“Woah, woah woah woah. Hold on there, cowboy.” Remus gently pushes him back down before their lips can meet, “You are very drugged right now. I am not kissing you drugged. Sober, hell yes. But not like this.”

“Y’re my-”

“Soulmate. I know. I kind of figured when I saw your eyes. But I figured… I might as well get you to like me before I dropped that kind of bombshell. Although… I was hoping that would be accomplished by basic flirting, but then the party started getting out of hand, so I was always busy with-”

“Patton’s on his way,” Virgil spoke up, joining the two on the bed. “You okay, Lo?”

“He figured it out,” Remus said softly, letting a hand card through Logan’s hair.

“I was wondering how long that would take.”

Logan gave a weak smile, his own fear and adrenaline starting wear off slightly. He was safe here, and he felt like he wasn’t going to be let out of sight for a while.

“Drink some more water, wallflower,” Remus whispered, helping him sit up, “We’ll take care of you.”

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #intrulogical #remus sanders #logan sanders #i kind of visualized that the man dropped the roofie in from his palm when he opened the drink #but i couldnt find a place to add that #not really that important tho #virgil sanders #patton sanders #rape tw #drugging tw #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides au #ts soulmate au #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau

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spaceasianmillennial · 3 years

Text

Part 5: Home

Summary: Alucard and Sypha give Trevor Belmont a bath... with soap.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

The sun shimmered and he awoke to the sound of her breathing, a warm wind upon his cheek and jaw. When he yawned and fluttered his eyelids, there she was, eyes crinkled with exhaustion but her lips curled into a smile, a deep relief that she was not dreaming and Trevor Belmont was there. Minutes passed between their gazing. He wanted to say something, something to light up a bigger smile and assure himself that he was real as well. If he could lift his right arm, he'd twirl his finger in her hair.

"Sypha, I've been thinking."

"What, Treffy?"

"What if I'm not Trevor Belmont?"

"Hmmm?" She paused. "Well, I did wonder if you were a beastie in disguise."

"What if I'm an incubus?"

Now her face wrinkled into playful disapproval, as if processing this as yet another one of his crude joke that hadn't sunk into her Speaker brain. She would know of incubi, they went through a rundown of beasts in the Belmont library before they hit the road together.

"What if I'm an incubus who shapeshifted into the form of Trevor Belmont and was sent to seduce you and infiltrate this human village?"

She seemed to be in on the joke, but the way her brows lifted indicated that she was trying to dissect some hidden meaning.

"If you're an incubus come to seduce me, well, you're doing a good job dressing up like Trevor Belmont and being all crude and getting on my nerves. I have to hand it to you. If you keep up this ruse, I might not mind spending the rest of my life with you. Keep up the ruse and I won't kill you, incubus." She patted his jaw.

But there was something he did not tell her. That incubus thing was a joke between his mother and father. "Your father never touched me. He had to have been an incubus. He must have killed Gabriel Belmont, took his shape and skin, and came to the Belmont Hold to seduce me. And I didn't care. Your father never touched me so I rather an incubus love me than not. It took having human children to convince me that it was Gabriel."

"Belmont, can you chew, or shall I spoonfeed you?" Alucard opened the cover, releasing the steamy scent made Trevor's mouth water. Trout with some lettuce leaves. Finally, something that wasn't broth.

"I'm not letting you spoonfeed me. Let Sypha spoonfeed me."

"Suit yourself, Belmont. By the way, Greta, the headwoman, wants to speak with you later this evening. So there's something we need to do with you. Just, don't panic."

"What?" He was expecting more experimental painkillers leaves to chew on.

"Belmont, as he said, don't panic," Sypha added, her expression mildly sour as if preparing for the worse.

"You're going to react," warned Alucard.

"Ok."

"We have to give you a bath, Belmont."

"Ok."

Alucard's expression remained unmoved. "With soap, Belmont."

"Ok."

Alucard lifted his brow. "You're not... repulsed? I figured you were so comfortable in your own filth and stink for eons that soap repels you the way silver and close-up crosses do to a vampire." Even Sypha seemed to raise her brows with skepticism. Trevor Belmont, not repelled by soap.

"Oh haha. Soap is not my weakness, hahaha."

"Belmont, will you be okay with me carrying you into the tub?"

Trevor finally pegged down what Alucard was implying, what the vampire did not want to say out loud. That the task of bathing Trevor Belmont would involve Alucard carrying said Belmont--naked--into the tub.

It was not the most ideal situation, to be carried naked by a man both your vampire adversary and your battle compatriot, but the benefits of not lying in his stink and unwashed wounds outweigh the cost of subjecting Sypha--and himself--to his scent. It would be as practical as your war comrade needing to tear your clothing to tend to a wound. Sypha had to endure weeks without him, so she deserved a less scruffy Belmont to make love to her.

"Whatever you need to do, Alucard. You're the doctor."

There was even one attribute of Lord Dracula that the Belmont family respected as they deemed Dracula Tepes as a serious threat. Lord Tepes was a man who understood that technology was magic in itself.

There sat a large porcelain basin standing on four golden lion-claw legs. A tube and knobs protruded from a wall. Sypha turned on these knobs and water-- "captured rainwater," Alucard explained--poured out. Sypha snapped up sparks of fire onto the coals beneath the basin to heat it up.

Sypha helped loosen the drawstrings of Trevor's trousers.

And so Alucard lifted him. The gesture was a clinical affair for a man raised by a doctor and far from the manners of a man who lifts his lover to the bridal chamber, yet Trevor swore he saw some tints on the vampire's cheeks as he lowered him into the warm water but the thought washed away as the warm water wrapped and sloshed him in its warmth.

"How do you feel?" Sypha asked.

"Better." The hot water embraced his numbing arm and he flexed his stiff fingers. When was the last time he bathed? He fondly remembered those times climbing into the cool lakewater with Sypha. He could detect that memory in Sypha's sly eyes and the curve of her lips whenever she wanted him badly. She took a soapy washcloth and began scrubbing his arm, his pits, his neck. She squeezed the water onto his hair and scrubbed it with sweet-smelling soap in circular motions. She winked at him before she reached deeper to draw the cloth at his pelvis and electricity shot up against his body.

"I sure miss looking at that body of yours, Trevor. I was wondering how I was going to live without that body for the next decades of my life."

He was aware that Alucard was sitting right there, just idly reading a book.

"You could join me," Trevor offered, loudly, to pester Alucard.

She smirked. "Another day, Belmont."

When she judged him pristine enough, she yanked the plug and the water drained into a pipe connected to the floor. He dried himself and she slid on him a long nightshirt that went down to his knees. Alucard carried him out and they helped him back to the bedroom.

This nightshirt, satin and smooth, felt so comfortable that it didn't feel right.

Greta sat in an armchair, uptight and professional.

"We've met, Trevor Belmont, but now's a great time for a proper reintroduction. I had a great deal of time to get to know Sypha. She's wise. She's very eager to help out. She's been great help sorting out the preserved herbs in the castle. So if there's anything you need or any suggestions you have or anything you want to contribute, you can go to me--or send for me. After all, you are a man of knowledge. We might have to consult you for many things."

"Well you got the books for that. Centuries worth of research down my family line, down from Leon Belmont."

"Yes. And you yourself must have knowledge that wouldn't be documented in the books."

Knowledge. It felt gratifying and he reminded himself to boast about it to Sypha, who was sitting by and observing the conversation. That someone came to him for knowledge, that word, as if he were a scholar.

Alucard, the bastard, must have clocked his thoughts and had to chime in, "Careful Greta, I don't think Belmont gets these kinds of compliments, let alone earn them."

Trevor continued on, "I understand your people of Danesti have grown fond of the libraries."

"A lot of them were excited to explore through to their hearts' content. They even asked Alucard if they could take some of the books home to Danesti. Some volunteered to stay back and be transcribers as well to bring it back to Danesti. Then it became clear that our lives would improve if we stayed around. For one, they didn't want to leave the graves of their loved ones and there were bodies to move, but two, they didn't want to leave behind knowledge that could very well save their children's lives."

"Which one do they seem to like better? The boring books about medicine and cosmos in Dracula's castle? Or the books about monster-slaying in the Belmont hold?"

The headwoman smirked at him. She seemed to have figured that he wanted something to rub in Alucard's face.

"I say the adults like them both equally but the kids look through the Belmont books more." Alucard gave her a furtive glare. "I think I'm more preferential to your books, Belmont. But anyway, I also wanted to meet with you because, while this is my village, this is also your land, and your library, as well and you should have input in how you want your home to be respected."

Home. Trevor felt tempted to slump down. He never quite wanted to go back and felt disconnected from the idea that this was his land. While he would technically be its heir, he never harbored real ownership when he bequeathed the lands to Alucard. It had been taken from him and that was that. It made a nice visiting place, or a place to restock weapons or retrieve research, but living among the ghosts and ruins was another weighty matter. Once something had been stolen by the zealous and bloodcurling priests, it could never be given back.

"We look forward to having you in our new town of Belmont, Trevor Belmont."

Having you. No one really asked him to stay. He was just expected to stay. He simply nodded.

"Great, as long as you don't name it Treffy."

Greta's eyes darted at Alucard and Trevor was sure that bastard vampire suggested that dreaded name to her.

She gave a head bow. When she and Alucard left, Trevor clocked the way Greta touched Alucard's shoulder, reminding him of the way his mother danced her fingers on Father's shoulders or when married relatives would rub their significant other's shoulder.

Sypha stroked his hand. "Greta likes you. That's good."

"She's trustworthy?" He liked Greta at first sight, had her pegged as a dutiful leader and someone who worked for her people. But God, anyone these days could be playing nice. God, they didn't want to get ensnared in a Judge situation again.

"She brought her people there to the castle to protect them. She listens to them. She... doesn't talk cheerfully about flogging her people. She and Alucard founded this village so they can have better things, including books and schools." She smiled, as if sensing his caution. "She... checks out."

Glad to know she's likely no child murderer. "If I doubt Alucard's judgment, then I trust Sypha Belnades's judgment," he announced. He wanted a moment to talk to her, about the idea of staying, but he decided that would wait, perhaps when his body no longer ached.

His eyes followed the seams. His finger traced over the patched area. He had finished mending his tunic. He figured that steadying a needle and thread could bring back some precision to his still numbing right arm. Alucard and Sypha brought him clothing from the Belmont hold, where he once acquired the meteorite-dark utility tunics with his knife-wielding cuffs. Now he had nothing else to do but to swat at any passing gnat.

His eyes fell on the open books at the nightstand, books that Sypha had been reading.

And then he reached for a book. He flipped idly around the text and illustrations of the sun, moon, and stars. He liked illustrations. Usually, he'll look at them and his mother would read to them. He already knew which creature tends to appear in a full moon or a dark moon or a crescent moon, which creature is powered by daylight (ironically), and which came out during certain constellations. But for the first time in eons, Trevor Belmont read about the stars.

–

Next up: Trevor *gasp* reading.

–> PART 6

COMMENTS OR REBLOGS APPRECIATED

The more refined version of this story is developing on Archive of Our Own

Check out my other fanfic on AO3

Tip me on Ko-fi or leave a comment

#trepha #sypha belnades #trevor belmont #castlevania #trephacard #greta

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awxward · 3 years

Text

A3! Boys + My Stuffed Animals

Spring Troupe:

Sakuya

Gabriel

Gabriel is a small elephant with big ears that constantly make him fall over. He has a pink bowtie that says 'I Love You'

Makes Saku feel safe and Gabriel is a reminder to himself that he's loved and appreciated by everyone at Mankai.

Named after a friend from theatre class :)

Masumi

George Washington

George Washington is a tiger. He is small, but his arms are like those slap bracelets so you can wear him on your wrist (or let him hang on the side of shelf like I do).

So I got Georgy-Boy for easter 2020. i asked my friends for name ideas. They sent me stuff like 'Stripes'. I went offline for a few minutes and when I came back online I told my friends his name was George Washington.

//////////

Me: tiger has a name now

Friend: which name did you choose?

Me: his name is George Washington.

Friend: what the fuck. how'd you get George Washington?

//////////

Pretty sure he got the name bc I was listening to the Hamilton soundtrack.

Citron

Daniel

Daniel is mostly pink but has other pastel colors that look like watercolors. He's a unicorn. And a ketchain. And he's one of those dream lites, so he lights up. (He's supposed too anyway, but he's never lit up since i got him like 7 years ago at a yard sale).

Named after Daniel Howell (formerly danisnotonfire) [YouTube]

Tsuzuru

Lucifer

Lucifer is a small panda pillow pet. Very easy to travel with bc he fits in most backpacks.

My mom told me she wanted me to have a stuffed animal with a biblical name, i picked him up, looked her in the eye and said "His name is Lucifer." My mom tried to protest. "You said a biblical name, Mom. Lucifer is in the bible."

Itaru

Pao(???)

Pao is a panda. They are also a phone holder thingy. Like it'll hold your phone if you're watching movies or whatever.

Like 5-ish years old. Got them from a friend. They have a tag with their name on it, but I read it once and then just called them "the panda" for some reason instead of their actual name and now the tag is too faded to read the name, but i am 38% sure it says Pao or something close to that.

Chikage

Tsuki

Tsuki is a dinosaur. Tsuki is a sparkly dino. He's green rn, but if you brush your hand over him, the sparkles turn over and he becomes orange. I like green tho bc his tummy and the bottom of his feet are orange and so are his eyes.

Named after Tsukishima Kei (Haikyuu)

Summer Troupe:

Tenma

Hinata

Hinata is a narwhal. A bright orange narwhal. Infact he is the same color as Tenma's hair.

Named after Hinata Shoyo (Haikyuu) [bc its the same color as his hair. there is a theme with this narwhal and the anime boys i associate with them]

Yuki

Steve

Steve is a regular teddy bear, except he has a shirt that has pikachu on it. (the shirt was originally Tsuki's bc i got tsuki at a friends build a bear bday party, but it fits Steve better)

I just think Yuki would try new designs/color schemes/styles by making clothes for Steve to see how they look.

I got Steve from a claw machine (my bf at time won him for me just before we watched Endgame together.)

Named after Steve Rogers (Marvel)

Muku

Eeyore

Muku most definitely loves the Winnie the Pooh movies and I will fite for this hc. He gets my Eeyore. You know how Eeyore's tail is always going missing or falling off??? Eeyore's tail comes off (velcro) but its attached to his actual body with a string so it cant be misplaced.

Eeyore has a patch that says "official disney store" but i got him for $3 at a thrift store.

Misumi

Sherlock

Sherlock is a polar bear. Sherlock is very huggable. He makes Misumi feel safe. He has a hat and scarf (that don't come off. they are sewn on him)

the hat has a pom pom on top and the scarf has a pom pom on each end. the hat and scarf and the bottom of his feet have a blue/white plaid pattern.

Kazunari

Victor

Victor is a puppy and the first big stuffed animal of mine on the list! He's all tan and abt maybe 3-4 ft long. Victor lays pretty flat so he's comfy to lay/sit on. I think Kazu would like sitting or laying on him when drawing. Probably has him on his bed so he's like a giant pillow.

Victor is from Toys R Us. I got him last August-ish from my Aunt and Uncle who found him at a thrift store and thought I'd like him.

Named after Victor Nikiforov (Yuri On Ice)

Kumon

PJ is a small white tiger. He is also a ball. He can fit in one hand. When Kumon is thinking or stressed or bored (etc) he just lays on his back and tosses PJ up into the air.

When Kumon is laying on the floor tossing PJ, Misumi sits on the bed closest to where PJ is and tries to grab him (but only if Kumon is in a good mood and okay with it) It's a fun little game they made up they like to play.

Pretty sure he was named after KickthePJ (YouTube)

liber pls give us a pic with all of autumn i am begging

Autumn Troupe:

Banri

Sammy

Sammy is another one of my large stuffed animals. He is also a puppy, but unlike Victor he is sitting instead of laying. He's abt 2-3 ft tall. His fur is the same color as Banri's hair. Great to squeeze at anytime, but very therapeutic when you're in a bad mood. Has a heart on his ear.

i got him abt 7 years ago. I had just finished spn season 2 and was upset abt the finale and had no way to start season 3.

Named after Sam Winchester

Juza

Tiggs

Tiggs is a beanie baby tiger. Tiggs is a little larger than PJ (and not a ball). He's a regular orange tiger instead of a white tiger like PJ. He'd buy Kumon PJ so they could have matching stuffed animals. Small and very comforting to just hold/hug.

Omi

Benedict (Ben)

Benedict, also known as Ben, is a small koala. Just a little bigger than Tiggs. He has a heart on one of his feet (i think the right one). very soft. very fluffy.

Named after Benedict Cumberbatch (Actor)

Taichi

Dean

Dean is my largest stuffed animal. He is a dark brown teddy bear that's abt 4-ish ft tall. He can be put in a corner and used as like a bean bag chair, or he can lay down flat and be a good pillow like Victor can.

It's very fun to just wrap around him and squeeze as tight as you can. Especially in when your in a bad mood. Very comforting to cry into.

I got him a couple years ago at a thrift store.

Named after Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Sakyo

Lev

Lev is a lion abt the size of a regular teddy bear (maybe slightly larger). I got him a thrift store so he's slightly worn out from age. He's mostly a pastel dark yellow-ish tan and his mane is dark brown. very huggable.

He's the stuffed animal I sleep with. Smells nice all the time, like the fabric softener.

Named after Lev Haiba (Haikyuu)

Sakoda

Emotional Support Iron Man

So Iron Man is small and he sparkles. He will hurt you/someone if thrown hard enough. Sakoda likes heroes bc they remind him of Sakyo they look cool. I'd hc that he got Iron Man from Sakyo when he was younger and its one of his most valued possessions and goes everywhere with him (or stays with Azamo or Sakyo at the dorm. Maybe Izumi or a couple others are on the list of who can watch over Iron Man.) Very protective of it.

Got the emotional support part of his name from a friend.

She saw Eddie Redmayne on a movie cover (think it was The Danish Girl) and started freaking out bc she loved him. I handed her the Iron Man and the next day she thanked me and said he was an Emotional Support Iron Man and the name stayed.

Azami

[Emotional Support] Spooder-Mon

Sakoda knew Azami as a kid. He most definitely got him the Spider-Man so they could have matching plushies.

Spider-Man is square and has little blob hands doing the web thingy. The tag said travel pillow, but he probably just chills by Azami's bed. When needed, Iron Man will be placed next to him if Sakoda can't take Iron Man with him.

I brought him to school one day and we had a bio test and all the people sitting around me passed him around and gave him a pat for good luck. We all got good grades and then he was dubbed as Emotional Support Spooder-Mon, but the Emotional Support title isnt part of his name (unlike the Iron Man).

i wanted guy in the pic, but i also wanted tsumu and hiso in the pic so you get 2 pics for winter

Winter Troupe:

Tsumugi

Phil

Phil is a zebra. He is a pillow pet zebra. Like Lucifer, Phil is also easy travel size. The bottom half of Phil is pink, so I refer to him as my pink zebra.

I just think it'd be cute to have Tsumugi with a pillow pet ok. I also thought he'd probably have has Phil for many years (since he was a kid) and Tasuku most definitely brings up things from when they were kids and shit.

//////////

Tasuku: you chose the pink zebra, and for what???

Tsumugi: its a very aesthetically pleasing pastel pink.

Tasuku: THERE WAS A DOG PILLOW PET RIGHT THERE AND IT WAS CUTER

Tsumugi: dont talk bad abt Phil.

the rest of mankai: ????????

//////////

I got phil before I got Lucifer many years ago. He was old when i got him and he is very old now. I love him so much.

Named after Phil Lester (AmazingPhil) [YouTube]

Tasuku

Cap

Cap is a husky. He was won from a claw machine with Steve.

There's just something abt the grey and white that gave me Tasuku vibes. Also, Cap's eyes are abt the same shade of blue as Tsumugi's and Tasuku knows this bc they are in love. Very squishy when hugged and with the way he sits, you could make it look like he's guarding something.

Named after Captain America (Marvel)

Homare

Ushijima (Ushi)

Ushijima, also called Ushi, is the last of my giant stuffed animals. He is abt 2-3 ft tall (like Sammy) and has a tail abt the same length.

Ushi is a raccoon thats mostly hot pink. Ushi's eyes are also pink and just abt the same shade as Homare's hair, although Ushi's fur is brighter by a few shades.

Ushi hurts when thrown/swung hard enough. Very fun to hug bc he's filled with beans (like beanie babies) so unlike all my other giant animals, he doesn't have to be fixed/adjusted after everytime you squeeze him. The tail has cotton tho and makes a good pillow.

Homare would definitely just see a 3 ft tall hot pink raccoon and claim it with no explanation.

Named after Ushijima Wakatoshi (Haikyuu)

Hisoka

Vladmir Dracula the 3rd (Vlad, Drac)

Vladmir Dracula the 3rd, who has many other names but usually goes by Vlad or Drac, is a vampire (surprise).

Vlad is a squishmallow thingy, and their tags say something abt them being able to be used as pillows, and thats why Hisoka gets Vlad.

Vlad is triangular in shape, with triangle ears, and triangle fangs, so I thought abt Misumi, but i figured Hisoka bc it's a pillow.

He's like the perfect travel size and he has a cape and a bowtie.

Named after Vlad the Impaler, the real life inspiration behind Dracula (my brother thought he was named after Vladmir Putin and I wanted to punch him for that but I was too busy laughing.)

Also named after Dracula, who was a vampire.

Idk where 'the 3rd' came from, but it's part of his name for forever.

Azuma

Sebastian

Sebastian is a dinosaur thats blue with a white tummy.

He's also a squishmallow, but he's bigger than Vlad by abt 2× as wide, so he'd be harder to carry around, which is why Hisoka got Vlad instead. Being a squishmallow means he looks more blob than dinosaur and i love it.

His tag said his name was Dominic or something, but I named him Sebastian before I actually checked the tag, so he's Sebastian.

Named after Sebastian (Black Butler) and Sebastian Stan (Actor)

Guy

Moriarty

Moriarty is my other polar bear. I got him with Sherlock and named him Moriarty bc Moriarty is Sherlock's nemesis.

He's just a plain white bear thats very huggable and adorable. I usually have a bowtie on him bc it makes him look fancy.

Guy would like him bc he's plain white and very fluffy.

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thejolexgroupchat · 3 years

Text

the one where they met in med school - part twenty-two

siblings and paper rings

Hello everyone!! Thanks so much for all of your support for this fic. We hope you enjoy this next section!

(March 2009)

———

"Alex!" Meredith screeched as she met him in the hallway. "Alex! Answer your damn phone. I've been trying to call you for the past hour. Why weren't you answering my calls?"

"Sorry, Jo and I were in an on-call room, ya know," Alex smirked, a smug glint in his eye.

"Ew, gross," Meredith made a face. "I did not need to know that."

"Well, aren't you happy that I didn't answer your calls while we were—"

"No, no, I'm going to stop you right there because I don't want to hear about the dirty, jailhouse hooker things that you and Jo do in the dark corners of the hospital," Meredith shuddered. "Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about?”

“What did you want to talk about?” Alex exhaled impatiently.

“I wanted to talk about why your brother showed up at my house this morning while I was in the shower,” Meredith whisper-yelled. “Why didn’t I know you have a brother? And why doesn’t he know where you live?”

“Crap,” Alex paused in the middle of the hallway. “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know, but I told him I’d bring him here with me to see you, so he’s hanging out in the lounge right now,” Meredith answered.

The pair walked down to the residents’ lounge quickly. When Alex entered, he saw his brother standing there, talking to Izzie, Lexie, Jackson and Cristina.

“Alex is the oldest, then me, and then Amber,” Aaron took a bite out of the granola bar in his hand. “Amber’s graduating from St. Savior’s in May. She’s… she’s smart like Alex. She could go to college if she wanted to, but she’s like “what’s the point?” you know?” And I don’t know what to tell her. Alex is the doctor in the family. I just move people for a living.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Alex chuckled lightly, startling Aaron, whose face lit up upon hearing Alex’s voice.

“Alex!” Aaron grinned and pulled his older brother into a tight hug. “Man you got old.”

“Dude, uh, what are you doing here?” Alex asked again.

“I had to drive to Portland on a job, and since Portland is in the neighborhood...” Aaron shrugged.

“Well, Portland is not in the neighborhood,” Alex shook his head, an amused smile on his face.

“It’s three hours,” Aaron waved dismissively. “I can do three hours in my sleep.”

“Alex, he’s your brother. He’s allowed to come say hi,” Lexie rolled her eyes.

“I’m overdue for a visit,” Aaron explained. “It’s been almost five and a half years.”

“No it has not,” Alex made a face.

“Since you’ve been home?” Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Five and a half years.”

“You haven’t been home in five years?” Izzie gasped.

“Has it been five years?” Meredith looked at Alex expectantly.

“Amber was twelve the last time we saw you. It was that Christmas when you brought Jo home for the first time and mom walked in on you guys having sex because you’d just gotten together the night before,” Aaron chuckled at the memory.

“Glad to see some things never change,” Cristina muttered under her breath. “We walk in on them on a weekly basis around here. They've been going at it like rabbits for the past few weeks.”

“We were not having sex,” Alex protested. “We were… kissing that’s all.”

“Oh yes, kissing with no clothes on. Definitely not having sex,” Aaron quipped sarcastically, garnering a few chuckles from the residents in the room. “Where is Jo by the way? Doesn’t she work here with you?”

“Aaron?”

“Speak of the devil,” Jackson nudged Lexie as Jo stood in the doorway of the lounge.

“Jo?”

“Ah! Aaron?” Jo rushed over and embraced him enthusiastically. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it!” Jo pulled away to get a good look at Aaron. “Look at you. You’re all grown up.”

“Grown up enough to get you to leave my brother for me?” Aaron joked.

“Yikes, I hate to break it to you, but there’s only one Karev that holds the number one spot in my heart,” Jo paused for dramatic effect. “Amber.”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed at his girlfriend. “I think my mom would agree too. I think all of us would agree.”

“He’s right,” Aaron nodded, a smile on his face.

“So, what’s going on?” Jo asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but, why are you here?”

“Well, I missed you guys,” Aaron tilted his head. “But since you guys are doctors, I thought I’d ask…” Aaron lifted up his shirt. “Should I be worried about this?”

***

When he woke up that morning, Alex did not think he’d be spending the first part of his day trying to locate Dr. Bailey in order to beg her to perform his brother’s umbilical hernia repair pro bono. But there he found himself filling out his brother’s paperwork as Aaron roamed the halls in a hospital gown saying God knows what to all of his coworkers. By the time Alex found Aaron again, he was sitting at a chair behind the nurses station, staring at the scans the Jo had pulled up.

“And that right there is a kidney,” Jo pointed at the screen.

“No way,” Aaron’s lips curved up slightly. “That’s so cool. Sometimes I wish I would’ve gone to school or training of some sort. I’ve always thought that I could’ve been a good firefighter.”

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” Jo encouraged. “You’re young and can do whatever you want.”

“I guess you’re right,” Aaron nodded. “I gotta live through this surgery first.”

“It’s a simple procedure,” Alex explained as he came up beside them. “Dr. Bailey is one of the best and she’s done this countless times. You’re going to be fine.”

“Alright, well I’ve got to go,” Jo straightened and placed a small kiss on Alex’s cheek. “I’m in the pit today with Hunt. Love you!”

“Love you, too,” Alex replied watching as Jo walked away.

“You look stupid,” Aaron made fun of his older brother who glared at him. “I’m serious. You’re watching her walk away like you’re never going to see her again.”

“Shut up,” Alex rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you to your room.”

“Why aren’t you guys, you know, married yet?” Aaron asked when they finally got back to his hospital room.

“Because we’re not,” Alex replied simply.

“That’s not an answer,” Aaron sat down on the bed. “I’m serious. Why haven’t you married her? You guys have been together for over five years. What are you doing? Is this it? Is this all you have to give of yourself?”

“Of course not,” Alex sighed. “Look, we haven’t really told anyone this, but we’re kind of trying for a baby.”

“You’re trying for a what, now?” Aaron’s eyes bulged. “A baby? As in an actual child that’s half you, half her, that you would raise together?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed out a shaky laugh. “Yeah we are… well, weren’t not exactly trying, just not... preventing anything.”

“That’s great man. I’m happy for you two. I’m glad that you feel ready to take that step,” Aaron patted Alex's shoulder. “That still doesn’t explain why you haven’t popped the question yet. Grandma Lois would kill you if she found out that you were trying to knock your girl up before marrying her.”

“I think I’m going to propose soon. I need to get a ring though, and it has to be perfect… I want to give her everything. She deserves that,” Alex stated quietly.

“You may want to give her everything, but honestly? I don’t think she wants everything,” Aaron looked up at his older brother’s puzzled face. “I think she just wants you. And to be married to you and have kids with you. You’re all she wants and all she really needs. I know you aren’t used to that because of the way we grew up, but Alex, you’re going to keep making excuses for why you can’t propose for the rest of your life as long as you keep thinking that she deserves better than what you can give her.”

“When did you get so smart?” Alex narrowed his eyes. “I swear, the last time I saw you, the only thing on your mind was football and sex.”

“I grew up,” Aaron shrugged, a dimpled smile donning his cheeks. “Just ask her to marry you already. If you want, I’ll go with you to look at rings as soon as they clear me after surgery.”

“I’d like that,” Alex grinned, leaning forward to ruffle Aaron’s hair. “You’re going places, kid.”

***

Two Weeks Later

“Did you hear Nurse Jen got engaged last weekend? She came back from skiing with a massive rock on her hand.”

“Really? That’s like the sixth one in the past two months,” Cristina’s voice was annoyed, Meredith chuckling at her. “I only know because they always make a big deal out of their gloves ripping on the flashy rings their spoiled rich boy fiancé’s buy them.”

Alex rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his scrub top and grabbed his shirt from his locker. He was used to the pointless gossip the three girls swapped in the locker room, their voices and laughter always echoing out louder than anything else happening in the room.

“Maybe the next one won’t be a nurse but one of our very own residents,” Meredith chucked her scarf at Alex, making him toss the fabric back and stare down the three women with a disgruntled stare. “Don’t give me that look, I think it’s about time you manned up and popped the question to Jo! I mean it feels like just yesterday we were calling her Dracula and now she’s kicking ass and taking names.”

“She’s got a point, Evil Spawn, pretty soon she’s gonna get tired of your shit and realize she’s way too good for you,” Alex met Cristina with a glare, the dark haired woman winking at him in return. “Seriously though, why’re you dragging your feet?”

“Shut up,” Alex grunted, trying to push the conversation aside.

“C'mon, Alex, you guys have been together for a million years and you haven’t even thought about marrying her,” Izzie threw her hands up in exasperation as Cristina and Meredith nodded their heads in agreement. “I'd be getting impatient if I were her. Me and George weren’t even together when we got married. But we loved each other and that was enough. Especially since life is short and you never know how much time you have left.”

“If it’s the commitment you’re afraid of, that’s okay. We’re all messed up and have problems with that, but I have to agree with them, Alex. Time is ticking,” Meredith said, folding her clothes and putting them in the locker. “And if it’s the wedding you’re worried about, you can always borrow my post-it notes.” She chuckled, making the other girls join her in a laughing fit.

“Leave me alone, all three of you. I have thought about marrying her, I’m aware that she could do much better, and I’m not afraid of commitment or the wedding part. I actually want to have a giant wedding, for your information,” Alex scowled before allowing his face to soften a bit. “And I don’t owe you any explanation because this is none of your business, but…” he rummaged around his locker and pulled out a tiny box that made all the women gasp giddily. “I’ve had to keep it here for the past week because she’d find it in the loft, but I’m proposing. Tonight.” He smiled, sitting down and showing them the ring.

“Oh crap!” Cristina’s eyes widened. “You bought an actual diamond engagement ring.”

“No I’m proposing with a paper ring,” Alex deadpanned. “Of course I bought a ring.”

“Alex, this ring is beautiful,” Izzie fawned over it.

“Really? You think she’ll like it?” He looked at it one more time before turning his gaze to the trio standing right behind him.

“I think she’ll love it,” Meredith said.

“Good. All those options at the store made me anxious. I never thought I’d ever go ring shopping, so I’m still a bit insecure about my choice, but I hope you’re right. I hope she loves it,” Alex let out a nervous breath, closing the little box again and putting it back in the back of his locker.

“Dude, grow a pair,” Cristina teased him.

“Shut up,” Alex rolled his eyes, making them laugh as they made their way out of the room.

“Don’t worry, Evil Spawn. Dracula is gonna love it. You did a great job,” Cristina patted his back with a smile on her face as they parted ways.

What did you think of this chapter of the med school fic? Are you just as excited as we are? Let us know what you think in the comments!

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tcm · 4 years

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“Much More to Movie Monsters Than Meets The Eye” By Raquel Stecher

With his latest book Fright Favorites: 31 Movies to Haunt Your Halloween and Beyond, author and horror expert David J. Skal provides readers with the perfect guide for watching spooky films throughout October and the year. The book takes a look at 31 different horror films from NOSFERATU (‘22) to GET OUT (2017). Skal offers insights into how German Expressionism and WWI influenced early horror classics, how Val Lewton threw out horror conventions with CAT PEOPLE (‘42), how DRACULA (‘31) was a financial gamble and how more recent films like HOCUS POCUS (‘93) achieved cult status. If you’re worried that 31 horror films are not enough, don’t despair, as each of these films is paired with a bonus recommendation on a similar theme. Fright Favorites is now available from Running Press and TCM.

Raquel Stecher: Can you tell us a bit about your background as a cultural historian and horror expert?

David J. Skal: I was one of the original “monster kids” of the 1950s and ‘60s, who discovered the old Universal horror classics when they were first released to television, and for a while I couldn’t get enough of them, or of the fan culture they set in motion. I was an avid reader of magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland, and when I came back as an adult to write about the history of horror entertainment from an adult perspective, it would never have happened without those photo-filled periodicals that engaged and obsessed me as a kid.

RS: In the book you discuss the connection between Hollywood and Halloween. Tell us a little about how that came about and how the two have become so intrinsically tied with one another.

DJS: In the golden age of American horror movies in the 1930s and 1940s, there was no supplemental merchandizing or other tie-ins to Halloween. It was still a pretty homespun holiday. The holiday’s potential wasn’t fully exploited by the film industry until after World War II, when we saw Universal franchising its monster characters as Halloween masks and costumes. In the ensuing decades, October became the major month for horror movie premieres, including studios other than Universal, and all the major theme parks got on the bandwagon, profitably extending their summer seasons with Halloween nights that are almost always tied in to some horror franchise or another, frequently of the slasher or chainsaw variety.

RS: What was the research process like for writing Fright Favorites?

DJS: Over the years I’ve done much more research for my books than I’ve been able to ever use, so Fright Favorites was an ideal opportunity to make use of information and anecdotes I’d never had room for in previous projects. As a result, it took about six months rather than the usual full year I most often devote to completing a book. Although the final selections were mine, the people at TCM are also—no surprise—very knowledgeable about movies with many favorites of their own that I was able to incorporate. There weren’t really any disagreements, just a bit of a juggling act to maintain a balance between the films included.

RS: In the book you wrote “Some early commentators on the medium worried that film might be nothing less than the arrival of living death. It is in horror movies that this pervading sense of the uncanny still speaks to us.” Were studios worried about making horror films? How did Universal's success with the genre affect the film industry as a whole?

DJS: In a way, the film medium itself is the very definition of the uncanny, bringing dead actors back to life, or its convincing simulacrum. This strange fact is always there, staring back at you. And remember, actors themselves have amounted to a species of shapeshifters, slipping in and out of identities in the manner of movie monsters. Film is a dream-like medium that has been irresistibly drawn to the fantastic and the bizarre from its very beginning, at least in Europe. American movies didn’t approach truly fantastic subjects until Universal took a chance with DRACULA in 1931. Previously, American films observed the tradition of explaining away any ghostly occurrence as a criminal conspiracy or ruse. But DRACULA, along with FRANKENSTEIN the same year, became two of the most influential and imitated films of all time.

RS: Stars like Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney Jr., Vincent Price, etc. became known for their horror roles. How did some of these horror stars embrace the genre or how did it typecast them?

DJS: By definition, any “horror star” is already typecast, although some deal with the pigeonholing better than others. I once had the privilege of sitting in on a classroom visit by Vincent Price with a group of acting students who asked him if he resented being considered a horror star and how they could avoid being typecast themselves. He told them in no uncertain terms that show business was already a difficult way to make a living and that being typecast would be the best thing that could ever happen to them professionally. Most horror stars I’ve met or interviewed are grateful for their fame and the attention of their fans.

RS: Many horror stories have been revisited in remakes, new adaptations and re-imaginings. Why has Hollywood been so keen to revisit horror classics?

DJS: Horror is a genre with financial profit baked in from the get-go—it’s almost impossible to lose money even on a poorly made scary movie, which is why so many prominent directors have gotten their start in the genre. It’s a fairly risk-free way to take a chance on new talent. In terms of remakes, if a formula has worked before, why not do it again? Fortunately, the remakes usually veer substantially away from the original stories in ways that keep the legacy of one monster or legend perpetually alive. Horror evolves the way anything evolves—through endless change and adaptation.

RS: What are some of your personal favorite horror films?

DJS: I don’t have a number one, or number two favorite. I admire many films for individual reasons: directors, scripts, actors. People most often ask me what my favorite version of Dracula is. I tell them that it doesn’t yet exist, but it would be a master version of the story edited together from all the major adaptations, with actors from different versions interacting with each other. It would be a huge job, but if done with the right flair would be hugely entertaining and probably bring out important aspects of each version that you wouldn’t notice watching them individually.

RS: Some of the films you feature in Fright Favorites are also considered science fiction classics. How do the two genres of science fiction and horror complement each other?

DJS: Literary horror and literary science fiction are fairly separate categories, but on screen the genres tend to blur together. For instance, ALIEN (‘79) is a haunted house story set in outer space. INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS (‘78) is an alien invasion story that’s also about zombies. Being a visual medium, movies tend to spotlight science fiction’s bizarre and grotesque imagery and end up emphasizing the horrific over the cerebral.

RS: How do horror films tap into the pervading anxieties and fears of their respective eras?

DJS: This is the through-line of most of my books: that horror entertainment amounts to a secret history of modern times, with each new cultural upheaval or trauma setting in motion identifiable kinds of stories and characters. The anxiety and fear need to be processed, but it’s always easier to deal with real-world horror if you don’t have to look at it too directly. WWI tore about human bodies like no previous war, and all through the 1920s and 1930s we looked at one disfigured face after another, even though the films weren’t about battlefield combat. Unprecedented numbers of mutilated men were returning to society, and they were being shunned. Nonetheless, they popped up in our cinematic dreams. During the AIDS epidemic, there was an explosion of books and films about another mysterious, blood-related scourge: vampirism. Repress awareness of an uncomfortable fact, and it will always rise somewhere else in a different form.

RS: What do you hope readers take away from the book?

DJS: So far, the book does seem to be engaging readers who have a general knowledge of horror entertainment but are curious to know more. The most important thing a reader might take away is the simple revelation that there’s much more to movie monsters than meets the eye.

#Horror #halloween #Fright Favorites #scary movies #classic horror #old hollywood #old horror #Vincent Price #dracula #Bela Lugosi #nosferatu #cat people #TCM #Turner Classic Movies #Raquel Stecher

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deafgaynerd · 3 years

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what happens after dinner

Malcolm and Edrisa attend family dinner for the first time as an official couple.

(written for @brighttanaka)

check it out on ao3

Malcolm Bright walked into the Major Crimes meeting room to clean up their most recent case board. He had caught their killer by doing what he does best, going just far enough into danger that he succeeds (while also making everyone else worry) but not far enough to die. He organized everything into case files to put into storage. The Major Crimes team filed into the room for a debrief.

Gil Arroyo, Dani Powell, and JT Tarmel joined Malcolm in the room. They didn’t sit down, instead electing to stand around the table as all attention turned to Gil. He went over assignments for paperwork, gave out praise for closing the case and thanked Malcolm for joining them. He did this after every case, thanking Malcolm for his work as if he was unaware that Malcolm was always, constantly itching to work on a new case, to solve a new murder. Gil made sure each case ended in a way that if Malcolm ever had to stop consulting, heaven forbid, his last case ended well and he was in good standing with each person on the team. That, and he knew that someone needed to praise Malcolm for being as smart as he was. Many people just expected him to be smart, they didn’t feel the need to congratulate him or tell him that whatever he did for the case was helpful and productive. Malcolm needed this occasionally though, and since Gil knew this, he made it a part of their case-ending routine.

Gil ended the meeting with a promise to see them all at family dinner and sent them all to their respective partners. Bright is the last to walk towards the door before he’s summoned back to talk with his surrogate dad.

“I know this is Edrisa’s first family dinner as your girlfriend, but make sure she knows that she doesn’t have to act any different than she is. We all know her, and we love her for who she is, she doesn’t have to impress us by being someone else,” Gil told Malcolm as he picked up the file box and walked towards the door.

“You do know that I can’t make Edrisa do anything, right?” Malcolm reminds the lieutenant. “I will remind her, though. If only to help reassure her. Dinner’s at 7:30 right?”

“Yeah, but you know your mother, you better-” Gil began.

“-Get there by 6:30, I know. Thanks, Gil. I’m going to go see if Edrisa is ready now. See you later.” Malcolm left Gil to put up the case file in the records room.

Malcolm made his way to his girlfriend’s office a few levels down. His new romantic partner was the medical examiner for this NYPD precinct, Edrisa Tanaka. Edrisa had an eccentric personality that Malcolm had been drawn to ever since he started consulting for Gil. They had so much in common and were constantly in awe of each other’s intellect. They understood each other very well and were nearly perfectly in sync, saving each other from dangerous things at crime scenes, and just being able to brainstorm about cases together.

Of course, Malcolm and Edrisa had things in common other than work. They were both interested in the same type of things, between human anatomy, ancient weaponry, and classic stories, among other things, they curated a wonderful friendship that blossomed to a romantic one. Malcolm was always worried that with everything that he deals with, he would overwhelm Edrisa, but she reassures him this isn’t the case, whenever he needs to hear it.

Edrisa and Malcolm fit each other well, so well, in fact, that Edrisa says “Hi Bright!” before Malcolm has pulled his second foot across the threshold of the morgue. He smiled and walked the rest of the way to his girlfriend. “I figured you would be done soon,” she revealed. “I knew you finished the case, and Gil’s speeches tend to be around the same length each time.”

Malcolm smiled at her, nodding. “Are you ready to head home to get dressed for dinner at the Whitly House, Ris?” He asked, moving directly in front of her to capture her attention.

“I just have to finish filling out today’s paperwork on this autopsy, it should only take a few minutes.” Edrisa told him, smiling. She then proceeded to explain what she had found out in this autopsy, a case Bright was not assigned to, and Malcolm listened intently, fascinated by not only her findings, but the passion with which she talked about her cases. Once Edrisa had finished, Malcolm helped her gather her things and they headed to the car.

When they got home, Edrisa held up two outfits. “Which one do you think would go over the best with your family?” She asked. “Ainsley helped me pick out some clothes that would look appropriate for your mother, which one do you think I should wear? I don’t want to wear something that would upset Jessica Whitly, ”

Malcolm studied the two outfits. One was a knee-length, emerald dress. The other was a navy blue suit with a lighter blue patterned shirt underneath. “I think you should go with the suit, it feels more “Edrisa.” Besides, my mother loves you already, Everyone who will be there loves you already. This will go fine, I promise.”

She nodded and left to change. “I know that I already know everyone, Malcolm, but this time it’s different. This time we’re going as a couple.”

“Edrisa, it’s just our friends and my family. You got this. We’ve got this. I’ll be right by your side the whole time.” Malcolm reassured her. She walked out and he couldn’t help but stare. She looked gorgeous. “Wow, Ris, you look amazing.” He got up and walked over to her, grabbing her hands and looking into her eyes. “We got this.” He said again.

“We got this,” Edrisa repeated.

The pair arrived at the Whitly House at 6:30 on the dot. Gil was already there, of course. So were Ainsley and Dani, since Ainsley had decided to live at home again to help out their mom and Dani coming over to visit her girlfriend before dinner. The only couple missing were the Tarmels. They started joining family dinners when Dani and Ainsley got together, because it didn’t feel right to have 3/4 of the team at dinner. They also invited Edrisa, before she and Bright had gotten together, and she had been participating. It had been a few weeks since Malcolm and Edrisa became a couple, but Edrisa had been busy for the past few family dinners. This was their very first one as an official couple.

At 6:45, JT and Tally came in, sheepishly. “We’re sorry, Jessica, the babysitter was late.” JT informed the night’s hostess. “We made dessert though. We brought brownies.”

“Who is this “we” you speak of, JT Tarmel.” Tally scolded, making Jessica laugh. Gil took the tray of brownies from JT and put them in the kitchen.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s have a drink and prepare for dinner,” Jessica announced.

At 7:30, the group sat down at the dinner table as the waiter brought out their dishes. They ate peacefully for a while, making small talk with the people around them. It was nice, getting to catch up with all their friends outside of work. They made sure to have family dinner at least once a week, because Jessica wanted to know what was happening with her children. All of them, which now included JT and Tally.

“Edrisa, I hope Malcolm is treating you well,” Jessica said loud enough that everyone can hear. “I taught him better than to treat you poorly.”

“Oh! Ma’am, Malcolm is wonderful. He’s so attentive, he’s kind, he’s sweet, he doesn’t leave a girl hanging, if you know what I mean,” Edrisa says, smiling at Malcolm who, all of a sudden, has a look of panic on his face. Most people can’t tell, but Edrisa has noticed. “He’s very thoughtful,” Edrisa continued, “and he loves me, too, even if he doesn’t know it yet.” She looked at Jessica with that statement and Jessica couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sure he does,” she responded before going back to talking with Gil. No doubt, they’re discussing how all of their kids ended up dating each other. Or, something about how they ended up here. They’re sentimental like that during family dinners.

After dinner and dessert, the couples broke off, heading to their own places. Edrisa and Malcolm went back to Malcolm’s place, where Edrisa always stayed over the weekend. They crawled into bed, Edrisa reading Dracula, sitting up against the headboard, and Malcolm scrolling on his phone, reading over a new psychological research paper. Edrisa has a favorite out of Malcolm’s clothes to wear, his old Harvard sweatshirt. No matter how many times it gets washed, it always smelled like Bright, and it was the warmest and coziest out of all of his tops, and he knew to leave it ready for her when they came home for the weekend.

After finishing his article, Malcolm rolled over to lean against Edrisa. “Are you done yet, Ris?” He asked her. She looked down and smiled, before lifting her arms up to let him lay on her more.

“I am not done reading yet, no. I’ll tell you when I am.” She responds to him. Malcolm takes the invitation and lays his head on her shoulder while she reads. He wraps his arms around her torso while she brings her hands back down, using his back as a resting place for the book and running the other hand through his hair. She knew that the best way for him to not have nightmares was for him to be holding onto her, and she knew that dealing with his family always exhausted him and he could use the rest.

Malcolm eventually fell asleep cuddling her while Edrisa finished rereading her book. She turned off the light and moved just enough so that she's laying down with him. She fell asleep in his arms and it’s the best sleep either of them has had in a while.

#malcolm bright #maldrisa #edrisa tanaka #malcolm x edrisa #prodigal son #gilica #gil x jessica #dani x ainsley #dainsley #dansley #jessica whitly #gil arroyo #dani powell #ainsley whitly #jt tarmel #tally tarmel

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Marinette: A merry Little Nightmare

Okay so I was thinking about the Crossover fic I did yesterday with the Disney orginal Movie Halloween Town and started to thinking about other favorite halloween town… The Nightmare Before Christmas. This of course reminded me of one of favorite Sterek fic (Teen wolf: Stiles/Derek) that I go back and read once a year. And I kind of wanted to create a new ML AU for something similar. I didn’t get very far with this so feel free to continue if you’d like!!! This got completely away from and went in a direction, I didn’t see coming… So yeah.

Marinette had always been a little… different; since the second, she was born in fact. But, hey, that’s what happens when the jolliest Elf in Christmas land marries the scariest vampire in all of Halloween Town. It’s no wonder Jack Skellington, the pumpkin king, was so adamant about officiating their wedding!

Her parents had met not long after the Pumpkin King tried his hand at Christmas. It went wrong. So very, very wrong. However, there was one bright side. The people from the various different holidays now knew the others existed.

And was when things started to change.

Because people wanted change.

It wasn’t fun only celebrating their one holiday every year; even if they were really good at it. And it wasn’t before long that you saw Cupids hanging with the monsters under the bed. Elves and leprechauns going out for drinks. A few reindeer running after the Easter bunny. Snow Angels laughing with Evil Witches.

Then Jack got a wonderful idea, and even managed to clear it by a very suspicious Santa, who was still just a bit traumatized from the last time Jack got an idea.

Why not let the children get the chance they never got? They can grow and learn about each other’s cultures together.

Thus, Ville des festivals was born. The city of festivals where citizens from holidays, both big and small, could come to live to together. And with the city came schools; Holiday High was the renowned of them. She had long gotten used to people asking “What are you?”

To them, she was a living, breathing question mark, they long to solve.

Marinette was born and raised in Ville des festivals. Her parents owned a bakery that produced everything from sugar cookies to Frog’s Breath pie.

The bluenette wouldn’t change who she was for anything but it hadn’t been easy growing up. Her heritage came from two of the biggest holidays of all the Holidays. She was both, and at the same time neither.

Marinette never felt like she was scary enough for Halloween town. Or cheerful enough for Christmas Land. It always felt like a tug of war; sometimes. Like she was split in two. Like if she cut herself, her blood would come out as a sparkly white and dreadful black.

Sparkly white for her Dad, Tom, who reflected sheer Christmas magic; the kind kids get on Christmas morning, when snowed the night before, and they opened all their presents and think it’s over, only for their parents to bring out a puppy with a boy around his head.

Dreadful black for her mom, Sabine, who’s presence echoed the terror you feel when you walk alone at night on a full moon, through a graveyard, on Friday the 13th, during October, and you get an alert on your phone about a serial killer loose, and then it turns out the cemetery is also haunted.

It’s a wonder no one knew what to make of Marinette. She had a smile that brighten up a room better than any of Santa’s elves. She had a glare that could melt the flesh off the Boogieman.

Every teacher she ever had always stumbled over her name; their faces wondering if it was an error.

Cheng; a fearsome line of Vampires from Halloween Town, everyone knew that.

Dupain; a merry elf family from Christmas land who baked the best ginger bread cookies imaginable.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng… What? It had to be an error,

Oh their faces when they realized it wasn’t!

Sometimes, besides her parents, it was like only Marinette realized that someone could be both; that she was both.

When she went to visit her mother’s family in Halloween town; everyone knew her as Marinette, half-vampire daughter of Sabine, from the Angelus bloodline; a fearsome and terrible family. And it was wonderful! Marinette wore Victorian dresses and went to balls. She was the best vampire anyone could ever be. And they treated her like a vampire. No one seemed to realize that while she needed blood to drink, she also need regular food to eat too. That while Marinette did enjoy scaring people, sometimes it felt wrong.

And when she went to visit the North Pole with her dad; she was a merry elf who sang the best Christmas songs and that all the reindeer loved. She worked with Mrs. Klaus, organizing and planning for events around town. She wore bright dress of gold and reds; silvers and purples. They treated her like she was an elf. No one seemed to realize that while most kids would love to live off candy and sweet drinks, Marinette still needed blood to sustain her. And yeah, sometimes, she burned a little in the sun, okay, Rudolph?

And Marinette didn’t speak the demonic language most vampires did; that her mother’s family all did; this never failed to disappoint her grandmother, who would then send her mother accusing looks. She also didn’t know any elfish which meant she couldn’t communicate with her dad’s dad. She could understand it but that was it.

She was only fluent in apologizing for not being enough, for never having found time to learn. The only phrase she knew in both languages.

“Sorry, I don’t speak Enochian,” Marinette would apologize and watch the confusion on her on her cousins’ faces, the disappointment in her family’s eyes.

“Sorry, I don’t speak Elfish,” Marinette would apologize, and her grandfather would frown, and make some bad parenting comment along the lines of ‘This is what happens when you raise your child away from where they belong. Move her to the North Pole before it’s too late. We’ll fix her.’ Fix her as if she was broken; as if she wasn’t quite whole.

Marinette opened her mouth and half her family wilts.

Marinette got the best of both worlds; it was true. She’d swear it… Most days. But after the Nightmare before Christmas incident, no one really dared to try to truly mix the holidays again. Sure, the people from both towns were social with each other and got along great, some even married, but that was where the line was drawn. The holidays didn’t interfere with each other.

So while Marinette got the best of both worlds; they remained separate outside of her home and the bakery.

It sucked. And no one but the other kids in similar predicaments as her understood.

Juleka, whose mother came from the land of Mardi Gras and whose father was a warlock from Halloween town, understood. Rose understood too; her father was a cupid and her mother came from the New Year’s City. The blond didn’t even know how to begin to explain that despite being so close to one another; the two holidays never mingled. In fact, they were so possessive of their own celebrations it was insane. (The last week of December to the day after Valentine’s Day was the most stressful time for Rose.)

Even Chloe sort of understood, though both her parents came from the Christmas. Her mother was a Grinch who hated pretty much everything and her father had come from a long line of very important elves (or so Chloe put it.) Her mother was a worlds’ renowned fashion critic and her father was the mayor of Ville Des festivals. Her father loved Christmas. Her mother refused to celebrate it. It only worked out because Chloe’s mom was never around much.

Even in Ville Des festivals, it was complicated. Most try to put her into a category to make it easier on themselves. Sure everyone was allowed to love each other’s holidays and to celebrate but to a point. No one expected an Easter bunny to go flying Santa’s sleigh, right?

No one expected an elf to want to scare people. Or a vampire to be able to make snowflakes.

“Which side are you closer with?” They’d asked. “You know, who do you identify with?”

Marinette refused to answer. She wouldn’t allow them to erase half of herself. She didn’t want to choose sides of herself. Why did she have to choose a race?

It wasn’t like there was a dividing line, from her head to her toes, that said one side Christmas Magic and the other Halloween Terror.

That wasn’t the way it worked. She refused to let them wash away half her identity just because it’s the one they prefer.

And oh how the people in charge preferred to used her sweet nature, the rose color to her cheeks, and big blue eyes to try and write her off as an elf!

Elf-passing, is what some would say.

How could they ignore her fangs? The dark midnight blue of her hair? The slant of her eyes, that flashed red whenever she was angry?

Why was it so hard to understand that she was both?

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was elf and a vampire. It wasn’t like she was an Alien from outer space. Or a human.

She got to celebrate Halloween with her mom, her dad, and her mom’s family but never once has she celebrated Christmas with her mom’s family. Not in Halloween town; it just wasn’t done.

She got to celebrate Christmas with her dad, her mom, and her dads’ family but gods’ forbid someone bring up throwing a Halloween party. No one threw Halloween Parties in the North day. It was the North Pole, for Saint Nick’s sake.

To Marinette, there were no better holidays than Halloween and Christmas. She just wished she could celebrate with her entire family.

She wished people didn’t make stereotypical assumptions on vampires just because they watched a few movies, or read some books. Marinette’s mom loved garlic. Holy water didn’t burn, thank you Chloe! Not every vampire knew Dracula or was descended from him. Though her grandma Gina, the elf, dated him back in the day so yeah, Marinette did know him but that wasn’t the point. And no, vampires didn’t used to only drink from the blood of virgin, what the hell Kim? (And Marinette wished for nothing more than to curse Stephanie Meyer out for the epidemic she unleashed. Vampires were always overly sexualized before… But DAMN! Juleka swore it was the equivalent of what happened to witches and warlocks during the Harry Potter Craze.)

She wished people didn’t assume all elves were sweet and nice and were toy makers. Her uncle was a dentist, thank you very much! And her grandpa could give any Grinch a run for their money.

Honestly, Marinette loved her life, her family, being mixed; coming from two very different worlds. It was just that sometimes it was hard. Sometimes she didn’t feel like a very good elf. Sometimes she was a terrible vampire. Sometimes she just didn’t feel like enough for either. Sometimes she felt like she never got enough of either.

Or as a human named Julian Randall put in his poem called ‘6 Biracial Metaphors.’ In it, he said, “Knowing that Sometimes being biracial is to have two half-filled glasses and die of thirst anyway.”

Sometimes, Marinette hummed Christmas songs under breath during October. Sometimes, she really wanted to watch Horror Flicks during December.

She just wished people made her feel like it was okay when she did. Or that it didn’t feel weird when she did.

Because it wasn’t weird. It was who she was.

All of who she was.

Marinette was poison wrapped in a pretty bow.

Marinette was a sweet kiss under the mistletoe that sent you straight to hell.

Marinette was a daydream and the worst fears come to reality.

Marinette was the Nightmare before Christmas.

#ml fic #marinette dupain cheng #Marinette deserves better

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whipped-cream-writings · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1: Haunted Library

A school project brings you to the library and you meet a girl that ruins changes your life.

WC: 2.5k

TW: Blood, fire, a bit of cursing

“Even scientists don’t know what happened to the wildlife within the woods. Many have started to speculate that this is the fault of mages.”

“I can’t think of anything else it could be!” The man on the left lets out a laugh that’s as fake as the greenscreen background. “I mean, what else could explain grass and trees turning grey?”

“Maybe chemicals, Tadashi.”

“Oh. Yeah, maybe that’s it.”

You turn the TV off and set the remote down. These people are supposed to be reporters, not theorists with too much time on their hands.

But you don’t have time to worry about that. The clock tells you that school starts in twenty minutes and you’re supposed to be meeting Midoriya by the station in five.

You mentally run through everything you’ll have to finish today; study for those tests tomorrow, contact that kid you need to tutor, do your homework, and you’d have to work some more on that English project.

You desperately needed a nap, but your teachers had other plans.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and open the door, getting hit by a blast of air that’s much colder than you thought it’d be. You grab a jacket as quickly as you can and hurry down the street.

The morning is cool, the autumn leaves being lifted by the soft caress of the wind. The sky is cloudy, but the sun peeks just behind the puffy clouds as a promise to see you once again in only a few hours. The streaks of blue that stain the sad greys in the sky make you smile.

You hear your name. “Good morning!”

The first thing you notice about him will always be his hair. Naturally green and always messy, as if he just rolled out of bed (considering his schedule lately, he might just have). It brings out his eyes and the splash of freckles that paint his cheeks.

“Good morning, ‘Zuku.”

“You came a bit later than you usually do…” He points out. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just got distracted by the news.”

“Oh! Anything interesting?”

“They were talking about ‘wildlife turning grey’. I bet it was just some chemicals or something like that.” He nods his head excitedly.

“Whoa, I haven’t heard of that! What else did the reporters say?”

“Something about it being the fault of mages. But they were speculating and hopefully just joking… Can you believe it?” He laughs and shakes his head.

The school campus welcomes you both and keeps you sheltered from the frigid wind that howls outside. The halls are familiar, yet still manage to be disappointingly plain. There are only a few people here, waiting outside their classrooms for their teachers to arrive or to be let inside.

When you and Midoriya step inside, you’re greeted by the ever so familiar faces of your classmates. Momo is trying to help Kaminari, Mina and Jiro are listening to music, Bakugo is yelling at an indifferent Todoroki - So, all in all, it’s a regular morning.

You haven’t known these people as long as you’ve known Deku and Bakugo, but they still know exactly how to bring a smile to your face.

“Did you choose the topic?” You ask.

“I chose vampires,” Deku says. “But if you don’t like it, then we could always do something different, you know? I was just interested in them and how they evolved in literature with time.”

“Relax, ‘Zuku. I don’t mind. I’m actually kinda glad.”

“You are?”

“Yeah! At least it isn’t boring. Plus, I honestly have no idea what else we could choose.” You admit. He laughs a little bit.

“Well, I’m glad you like it! I was thinking we could start by reading and analyzing Dracula. That was the book that really brought vampires into the public eye.”

You can’t help but admire how much he already knows. “Maybe we could stop by the public library tonight?”

“Oh yeah! We could go there on the way home.” He scribbles it down in his prized notebook and he taps the pencil against his lip. “Do you have any ideas for books we could read next?”

“Other than Twilight? No.” His face drops when you say that and you laugh. “I’m only kidding! Sort of.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

“Good morning, students.” The voice of the principal crackles through the speaker. “Today is October Third-”

Deku hits his forehead.

“I completely forgot about that,” He groans. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home with you tonight.”

You blink. That’s… never happened before.

“Wait, what? Why?” You whisper. Professor Aizawa is watching you and you shift uncomfortably under his disappointed gaze.

“I have… a club meeting.”

“Huh. Okay.” Did Izuku ever mention signing up for a club? “I’ll be sure to grab you a copy of Dracula too. I can drop it off at your apartment.”

“Thanks.” He smiles a bit. “I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine, so don’t worry about it!” You insist. Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Izuku doesn’t notice.

When the day ends, you wait by the wise, old tree that bends down to kiss the skin of the earth. You stand there for five minutes before it hits you.

He has a club meeting. Right.

You internally kick yourself and bid the tree farewell. The wind strikes the branches and causes them to shake as if it is saying goodbye to you as well.

The more you think about it, the clearer it becomes that Midoriya never mentioned a club or an after school program. He often told you what he signed up for and if he had plans to do something else. So why not this?

You shake your head, the leaves ghosting across the ground. You’re his friend, not his mom. If he doesn't want to tell you something, he doesn’t have to.

The path ends at the old library. The outside had yet to be polished the same way the inside was, so it looked less like a library and more like a haunted house, where ghosts drifted aimlessly between the shelves. The sign was missing a few letters and the wood looked like it could turn to splinters with a push that was just hard enough.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by the librarian and you wave to her before stepping inside. The lights make the place feel warm, even though there is no functioning heater. A few people are roaming around, others reading or typing away on their computers. The stairs are in the back of the room, and the classics section is on the second floor.

The section is empty. The other areas had one, maybe two people thumbing through the shelves. It feels strange to be alone, which makes the silence even more deafening.

You find the books that you need and hold them as gingerly as you can like you’re scared they’ll turn to dust if you apply just a little more force. Now, all you have to do is go to-

“Dracula, huh? Are you into that occult stuff?”

A voice. Right against your ear.

You leap away and hold the books to your chest. “I-I’m sorry?” You say as evenly as you can manage.

The girl looks innocent enough. Her light hair is drawn into two buns on both sides of her head and she has a wide smile on her face. She’s wearing a school uniform underneath an unbuttoned beige cardigan.

Even so, you can’t help but think her eyes are glinting with something other than joy.

“Oh, silly me!” She giggles. “I haven’t even introduced myself. My friends call me Toga.” She holds out a hand, her smile never faltering.

Her skin is so… pale. If you didn’t know better, you might’ve convinced yourself that you were talking to a ghost.

“Um… Nice to meet you.” You mumble, taking her hand and barely even shaking it. Her skin is cold, too. You give your name tentatively and pull your hand away. “If you’ll excuse me-”

“You’re really cute.”

You blink; once, twice.

“What?”

“You heard me, didn’t you? You’re adorable!” She giggles again. It feels like her stare is all over you, even though she hasn’t looked anywhere other than your eyes.

“Thank you, but I really must be going.” You insist.

“I have something to check out too! Why don’t we go together? That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?” Her eyes flash.

A hollow feeling settles into your stomach.

But your gut screams that saying no isn’t an option anymore.

So, you agree. It’s a tentative whisper that not even the walls could hear, but she does, loud and clear.

She perks up and laughs.

“Hooray!” She cheers, scooping up a random book from the shelves and dragging you along by your arm. Her grip is steel and her nails dig into your skin. You keep your mouth sealed, even if it hurts a little.

You look at what she’s wearing. There are no pockets in her skirt, and her cardigan is too thin to hide anything effectively, same with her blouse. There are no strange shaped lumps in her socks that go up to her knees.

So why were you so tense? Why are you afraid of this girl?

The last thing you wanted was to stick around long enough to find out.

“Are you walking home?” She sets her book right next to the self-checkout and doesn’t bother to scan it. You refuse to make eye contact with her, pretending to thumb through Dracula.

Should you lie? What if she saw right through you? If you said that you were walking home, would she follow you?

“I’m waiting for a friend.” As soon as the words escape your lips, your hands start to shake. You hide them behind the books.

“Oh, that’s great! I can wait with you!” She smiles with her teeth and you shrink away.

“Not at the library… We’re meeting at a spot that’s kind of far away. It was nice meeting you, though, Toga-”

“I don’t mind!”

You freeze.

“Excuse me?”

“I really like you, so I’ll wait with you!” Her smile widens somehow. “I can’t let someone as cute as you get away from me.”

Your heart is pounding and you can feel that bile in the back of your throat building up.

“I can wait on my own.” You insist. “I appreciate the offer, Toga, but I’d prefer to be by myself.”

Her smile melts away.

There is no anger on her face. No sadness, no envy or rage. Her expression is just… blank.

But then she laughs. A laugh that teeters on the edge of insanity and mayhem. A laugh that makes your skin crawl.

She sings your name ever so lightly, a soft twinkle in her eye that makes your stomach twist even more.

Her hand shoots out and snatches your arm, her nails breaking through your skin. Blood starts to seep out of the cut, but she doesn’t mind it at all.

Her eyes seem just a bit brighter than before.

“I wasn’t asking you, was I?” She says simply, her smile far too wide.

You pull your arm back. Her hold doesn’t give. You try to resist even further. She’s strong, stronger than what you ever could’ve guessed.

Toga leaves the library, with you in tow. Your arm feels like it could be ripped off at any second.

“Where are you waiting for your friend?”

You stammer out a place that you’re sure she won’t know about. She’ll let go of you eventually, right?

But all she does is laugh and change her direction.

You look around, trying to find someone, anyone nearby. If you cried out for help, no one would hear. You try moving away, you try fighting back, but you can’t - your efforts are fruitless and that panic is building up in your chest once again.

She sighs your name. “Your blood smells so good… Did you know that?”

You have half the mind to question how she can smell your blood before you’re yanked toward her.

Her mouth hovers just above your neck.

Are those... fangs in her mouth?

But you don’t feel any pain. Her teeth never even graze your neck.

Because there’s a shout. Words you can’t understand, words that don’t sound like they’re from any language. But they’re said with such intensity that it feels like you’re standing next to a raging inferno.

And, in the next moment, you are.

There’s fire.

Fire that engulfs Toga’s entire being. Fire that makes you feel like you’re inches away from Hell itself.

Fire coming from Midoriya’s hands.

You’re yanked out of the way.

His hands are scorching. It will most likely leave a mark. Yet, right now, you don’t find that you care.

What you’re really concerned with is that your best friend just set a girl on fire with nothing but his hands.

“Are you alright?” His eyes bore into yours, only inches apart. Heavy breaths fan your face.

“When did you- How-”

He ignores your stammers. “Stay behind me.”

Where Toga once stood, there is only thick, bitter smoke and the dying embers of the flames. It doesn’t seem like anything else is burning, strangely enough.

How is this possible? What is happening?

He starts speaking. The words are fluid and fast, one sound blending into the next.

A gust of wind comes from his hands. It blows away the smoke and reveals that there was no one there.

Toga is gone.

There are no ashes or anything of the sort. Just shoe-shaped imprints left in the dead grass. You’re still bleeding from where she scratched you, but you feel no pain. All you can focus on are the questions swirling around in your head. On the fact that Midoriya just did… whatever that was.

Faintly, you hear your name. Midoriya’s facing you, worry etched on his face.

“Did she bite you?”

You shake your head. “All she did was scratch me.” Your voice is barely a murmur and you show him your arm. He nods, inspecting the cuts.

“You’ll be fine. All they need are a few bandages.” He lets out a long sigh. “That was too close. Toga is getting out of control lately, and it’s not just her-”

“Deku.” The words come out harsher than you meant. He flinches and turns to you.

“Yes?”

“What the fuck just happened?”

This is probably the most self indulgent thing I've written yet! It was so much fun to do and I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it! Remember to drink some water and I hope you have a great day! 💕

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #deku x y/n #izuku x y/n #midoriya x reader #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #deku x reader #izuku x you #midoriya x y/n #mha x gender neutral reader #hopefully you guys like it!!#the writing isn't my best but hopefully it's still enjoyable?

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