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5-seconds-of-bucky · 3 years

Text

The Dock

A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other

Word count: 4.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger

Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]

---

You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”

“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”

“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”

The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.

“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”

“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.

“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.

“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.

“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.

“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.

“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.

“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.

---

“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.

“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”

“Well then, let’s hear it.”

“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”

“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”

“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”

“Sure he would,” you scoffed.

“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”

“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.

“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.

“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”

“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”

“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.

“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.

You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”

“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”

You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.

As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”

Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”

A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.

“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.

“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”

That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.

“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.

“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”

You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.

You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.

Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.

“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.

“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”

You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.

“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.

“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“Tony-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.

“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.

Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.

“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”

---

“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.

You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”

“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.

Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.

“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.

“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”

“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.

“I’m just saying.”

“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.

“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.

“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”

“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”

“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”

“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”

Soon. He was going to do it soon.

---

“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.

“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.

“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.

“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push.

“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.

“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”

You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”

“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.

“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).

“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”

The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.

“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”

“Well half the fun is falling off.”

“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”

“What would you suggest we rather do then?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”

“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.

“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.

“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.

“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”

“Good.”

A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.

His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.

“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.

This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.

---

You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?

“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Oh, okay.”

“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”

“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.

He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.

“Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.

Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.

Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.

“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.

“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.

“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”

You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.

“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”

“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.

“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.

Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.

“For what?”

“Your face.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”

“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”

“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”

You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.

He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.

A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.

“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”

You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.

You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.

“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.

“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.

“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.

“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”

“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”

“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”

“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came. “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.

---

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akakeiiji · 3 years

Note

HI!~ (THIS IS MY FIRST TINE REQUESTING AND IM REALLY EXCITED) Can I request a scenario where their smol s/o (I'm like 155 or 5'1 for reference) gets easily lost? Like they just wonder off on their own cause they think that he's still with them and she tends to leave her phone with him so calling to find her is out of the question??? (Me honestly IM SORRY FRIENDS AND FAMILY) She likes a lot of things so sometimes its hard to find her cause they never know where she is? Ushi, Tsuki and Bokuto-🌼

-`,✎ Ushijima, Tsukishima and Bokuto losing their short S/O in a crowd

THIS REQUEST IS JUST TOO ADORABLE AND IT HITS SO CLOSE TO HOME!! We’re the same height nonnie 🤧🤧✋ Short gang, where ya’ll at?

Also I apparently don’t know how to read because I thought you requested for headcanons at first despite you clearly asking for scenarios so I decided to keep the hcs since I was already halfway done with them~ hope you don’t mind, nonnie!

The man is literally built like the empire state building, he just towers over everyone, it’s insane

And then there you are behind him, all tiny and stuff, it’s so friggin adorable

He doesn’t really notice your height difference at all

Whenever people point it out, he just cocks his head with his eyebrows furrowed and is like “Yeah, I’m tall?? And they’re short?? Why are you reacting like that?”

He’s genuinely confused and doesn’t see why it’s a big deal at all

When he looks at you he doesn’t really pick up on itty bitty details like your height and stature; he just sees you for the whole you and sees you simply as this perfect deity that he loves

But he does appreciate the perks that come with it such as the way you feel when he hugs you after a match or the way you look up at him so adorably when you’re trying to get a kiss

He also didn’t realize the cons that came with having a tiny s/o

There are many but we’re focusing on the fact that it’s so easy to lose you in a crowd

He’ll literally look away for 0.5 seconds and when he looks back at you, you’re suddenly gone

He probably won’t notice for a bit but after a while, he’ll wonder why you aren’t holding onto his sleeve or hand anymore

Whenever this happens he usually goes about it in two ways; he’d either stay still where he is and let you find him (which isn’t hard, he sticks out like a sore thumb) or if enough time passes, he’ll retrace his steps and look for you himself

He’ll have a tiny little frown on his face since he gets so worried about you, like you’re so tiny what if you get trampled??

When he does find you though, the wide smile on your face when you catch sight of him honestly makes the search worth it

can you tell that I miss ushi so friggin much

The streets in downtown Tokyo are always so packed at this time of day. There were hundreds of people rushing to and from work, tourists taking in the sights, and busy shoppers such as yourself and Ushijima; you two had just finished shopping together and were heading to your favorite restaurant in the area as you always do to end your date night.

Your hand remained tightly wrapped around the hem of your boyfriend’s coat as you two made your way down the busy streets, struggling to not get pulled away as people continued to mercilessly push past you. You would have much rather held Ushijima’s hand but he insisted on carrying all your shopping bags and was rather preoccupied with them at that moment.

He marched on, oblivious to your struggles behind him. It was during times like this when you hated how short your legs were, you were practically jogging to keep up with your boyfriend who, to him, was only going at a leisurely pace.

Before you knew it, your hand had loosened and you suddenly lost hold of his coat. You looked up, hoping to find him just a few feet away, but he had disappeared into the sea of people all around you.

Ushijima hadn’t noticed anything at first, he was too focused on where he was going to realize that the little tugs on the hem of his coat throughout the journey were suddenly gone. He looked down at both his hands and placed the shopping bags on one of them to the other so that he could use it to hold your own.

He held out his free hand behind him, calling out your name, and motioned for you to grab it. A few seconds went by of him gesturing like this only to be met with no response.

He looked back, eyebrows furrowed, only to find no sign of you.

Ushijima immediately stops in his tracks, eyes widening ever so slightly as he did a little 360 turn in his spot, raking over the crowds rushing past him in hopes he’d find your familiar head of hair bouncing about.

He stood motionless where he was, forcing people to walk around him—most wanted to tell him off for standing in the middle of the street but no one had the balls to.

A few minutes went by and he began walking down the direction he came from looking everywhere for you. Worry began to bubble in him when you were still nowhere to be found but suddenly he saw a figure waving at him from afar.

You were standing on top of those small cement blocks on the bottom street lights, waving your free hand that wasn’t wrapped around the lamp towards your boyfriend, grinning ear to ear when you met eyes with him.

Ushijima smiled in relief, shoulders relaxing as he made his way over to you. You met him halfway, immediately wrapping your arms around him in a hug, burying your face into his chest.

“I’m never letting go of your hand next time.” He said, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head before interlocking your fingers together. You laughed, nodding in agreement. “Definitely not.”

We all already know this: Kei is fucking ruthless

It doesn’t matter that you’re dating. It doesn’t matter that you’re literally his favorite person in the world tho he’ll never admit this to you you will not be free from his savageness

No one is more hyper-aware of your height difference than he is and no one teases you more than him

Tsukishima is literally the type to steal your things and hold them over your head or he’ll purposefully stand at full height whenever you want to kiss him just so that he can watch you struggle

“Oh, babe, I didn’t see you from down there.”

Is the type to purposefully put things you use all the time up on the top shelves in cupboards and cabinets

He says that he does this to annoy but really he does this so that you can call him to help you since he banned you from climbing the counters 🤧✋

He really loves your height though as much as he likes to tease you for it

He loves how easy it is to wrap his arms around you and how you burrow into his chest whenever you hug

His favorite thing about your height is probably the fact that it’s so comfortable being the big spoon with you since you fit so snuggly against him 🥺

again he’ll never tell you this, my man is tight-lipped

However he can get very protective over you, it’s like he developed this idea in this head that small = fragile

So whenever he loses track of you in a crowd (which happens a lot, it's honestly embarrassing) he immediately drops everything and searches for you

He’ll have this permanent pout on his face as he retraces his steps, going back to wherever you two were and keeping an eye out for either you or places that would catch your eye

Once he finally catches you, he’d sigh in relief and immediately put up his “i’m annoyed right now, give me attention” face and head over to you, knocking your head with his knuckles lightly

He’d lecture you a bit about staying close to him and he’d spend the rest of your time out with his eye on you and with his hand tightly wrapped around your own

The mall was always so crowded during the weekend especially now that Christmas was just around the corner. Tsukishima told you that you two should visit the mall later during the week but you were just so excited to see this new movie, he simply couldn’t say no; he cursed himself for being so tightly wrapped around your finger.

The building was already pretty full when you two entered the cinema but when you two emerged, it was as if the number of people there seemed to double in just a span of a few hours.

As you two made your way through the tight-knit crowds of people, the frown on Tsukishima’s face never left as people kept pushing and rushing past him. He called out your name behind him and said, “See, I told you we should have come after the weekend, it’s like half the city is here right now.”

He waited for your usual giggle or scoff, maybe a light smack on his arm as you tell him to brighten up but there wasn’t any of that.

“(Y/N)? Did you hear me? I—(Y/N?),” He turned around, worried that you may have been upset at him but instead was surprised to find that you weren’t trailing along behind him like he expected you to be.

He turned around fully, hands coming out of his pocket as he raked his eyes over the crowds of people around him. It would be nearly impossible to find you here, there were probably hundreds of people in the mall now.

Tsukishima groaned slightly as he ran a hand through his locks, his other hand going into his pant pocket to ring your phone only to realize that it was with him as well, right next to his. This elicited a second groan from the blonde.

Knowing you, you probably got distracted by something and wandered away from him.

He retraced his steps, keeping a close eye on his surroundings. He had no idea when you wandered away from him so you could have been anywhere. He stood at full height, towering over the majority of the crowd, and scanned the entirety of the floor and the shops on it.

He entered a few stores he knew you’d most likely visit; the bookstore, the pet store, and a shop that was having a 50% sale but he found no traces of you.

Tsukishima was about to give up and head to the information desk and ask them to announce something on the loudspeaker to grab your attention—probably something along the lines of “To the small gremlin wandering around floor three right now, please meet Tsukishima Kei at the main exit.”—when he spotted a bright store on the other side of the floor.

You were there. He just knew it.

He rolled his eyes as he made his way to the anime store and low and behold, there you were, crouching as you stared at the shelves of anime merchandise, a wide ear to ear grin on your face.

Tsukishima sighed and lightly smacked you, tearing you away from your thoughts and making you look up at him in shock.

“You are such an idiot, (Y/N).” You only laughed in response and wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your face onto his chest. “Aww, Kei! Were you worried about me?”

“Of course, I was. How do you expect me to feel?” He said with another roll of his eyes. He brought his hand up and placed it on top of your head. “I was worried someone thought you were a child and kidnapped you.”

You let out an indignant gasp and started to smack him but he only laughed and took your hand in his, dragging you out of the store behind him ignoring your protests.

Nobody in the whole entire world thinks you’re more adorable than Bokuto

He adores the fact that you’re so tiny, he likes you call you his pocket-sized s/o

He never really teases you, instead he always coos and coddles you

He especially loves lifting you up in his arms and twirling you around, he always does this after winning a game and it always leaves you feeling dizzy

But you never complain bc who would complain about being hugged by Kou like that 🤧✋

However, as much as Bokuto loves how smol you are, he always kinda forgets that you’re short??

It’s because he’s always surrounded by tall people; his friends, the volleyball team, etc.

So he always forgets to adjust when he’s with you

And you know how some people just naturally walk really really fast, like they can’t help it, it’s just how they walk normally??

Yeah, that’s Bokuto

And this paired with the fact that he is literally 6’1 means he practically travels at light speed

Your tiny legs can barely keep up with your excitable boyfriend and you’re always practically jogging to keep up with him so if you take your eyes off of him for even just a few seconds he’ll probably run off somewhere and disappear 😔✋

This occurs so often when you two are out that you’re never shocked whenever it happens

It takes a few minutes before Bokuto realizes that he’s suddenly alone in a crowd and that you aren’t beside him like he thought you would be

AND IM SORRY BUT THE FIRST THING HE’LL DO IS JUST YELL OUT YOUR NAME REPEATEDLY AT FULL VOLUME WITH NO SHAME WHATSOEVER

“(Y/N)!! WHERE ARE YOU??”

Everyone around him would give him looks but he wouldn’t care, he just needs to find you fast or he’ll start panicking tho he lowkey already is

Some people would think that he’s looking for his kid but nah, he’s just looking for his smol s/o who would show up beside him after a while with a disgruntled look on their face

It never takes long for you two to reunite when you get separated, you just have to wait for the distinctive voice of your boyfriend yelling for you somewhere

When you two find each other, the first thing he’ll do is pull you into a tight hug, usually lifting you up from the ground as he presses a few kisses on your cheeks in relief

He’ll remember to walk slowly for the rest of the time you’re out, usually with his arm over your shoulder or with his hand tightly wrapped around your own

It made absolutely no sense to you that Bokuto literally grew up in the city yet has never visited the amusement park in the area before. You’ve visited the park countless times before but for your boyfriend, it was a first.

Bokuto was practically bouncing with excitement ever since you proposed the idea of visiting the amusement park together and it only got more intense as the day of your visit grew closer and closer.

You somewhat regretted not pushing your date to a later day in the week so that it didn’t fall on the weekend since the park was so packed but that feeling quickly dissipated when you glanced at your beaming boyfriend beside you.

What you did regret however was the fact that you didn’t wear more comfortable shoes, ones that were more fitting for exercise rather than leisurely walks since you were practically running around the park just to keep up with Bokuto.

His hand remained tightly clasped on your own as he sprinted all around the park, looking at all the rides, food stands, and gift shops around the place. He wasn’t really running, he was simply walking at a quick pace but this coupled with his long legs made it so difficult to match his pace with your significantly shorter ones.

You two had just gotten off a rather intense roller coaster and you felt your head spin from how dizzy it made you, you halted in your steps as Bokuto was about to begin running towards another ride making Bokuto stop as well as he was pulled back by your hand which was still holding onto his.

“Koutarou, let me rest for a bit,” You said as you sat on a bench in the shade, Bokuto immediately nodded and took a seat beside you, he handed you a bottle of water from his bag. “Sure babe, here drink this.”

After a few minutes of talking and resting under the shade, you stood up, reinvigorated, and filled with more energy. “Okay, let’s go, I’m feeling much better now,”

Bokuto immediately jumped onto his feet and beamed at you, more than ready for another round of rollercoasters and thrilling rides. He held out his hand for you to take and you two headed farther into the park.

“Let’s go on the Viking ride next—wait, hold on, let me fix this.” You let go of your boyfriend’s hand and began adjusting the overpriced headband on your head; Bokuto insisted on buying matching ones at the gift shop despite their ridiculous price (“Look, it’s just so adorable!”)

When you looked up, ready to grab ahold of his hand again, Bokuto was suddenly nowhere to be seen.

You whipped your head all around you but you couldn’t see the familiar head of hair of your boyfriend in the horde of people around you. You stood on your tiptoes, craning your head to get a better view but that didn’t do anything to help. You feel back on your feet and huffed; curse you and your short stature.

You walked down the direction you two were originally headed at, raking your eyes over the crowds of people you walked past when you suddenly heard a familiar voice yelling out your name from a distance. You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice and began to jog towards it.

Bokuto was standing on his tiptoes, his hands cupping his mouth as he called out for you over and over again, oblivious to the looks of shock from the people around him.

As he was about to scream out your name for the dozenth time, you suddenly pushed your way through the people around him and grabbed ahold of his arm, an exasperated yet also relieved look on your face.

Bokuto’s face immediately lit up, the small frown on his lips turning into a large smile as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you into his chest and lifted you off the ground as he usually does when he hugs you.

You giggled and flailed around as he did this, when he placed you back safely on the ground, he placed a small kiss on your forehead.

“Sorry for leaving you behind,” Bokuto said as he laced his fingers onto your own, “It won’t happen again,”

You scoffed playfully and let yourself be dragged along by him, “That’s what you said last time, Kou.”

2K notes · View notes

griffintail · 3 years

Note

I’m surprised people think techno’s grief extends to pure violence. When it’s clear the news of his S/O death leaves him trembling on the floor, and letting out pained wails his first night alone. Leaving him delirious in denial as Philza has to keep watch to make sure he doesn’t kill himself trying to bring them back. And as the grief seeps in he is left to sleep through dreamless nights and live through thoughtless days. And at the end, acceptance isn’t voluntary, he’s too tired to do anything else. (Please write smth for this I can’t sleep this idea’s been eating at me for days)

I went a bit off script- I hope you still enjoy. :)

The Bolt

In-Game

Pairings: Technoblade x GN! Reader

Warnings: Death, Blood, Angst

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Techno blocked the axe coming for his face with his shield as he chugged his last regeneration potion.

The last battle of L’Manberg was over and he needed to find (Y/N) and get home to safety. He gave a whistle that echoed across the battlefield before pushing Sapnap away from him. Booking it away, he went towards the meet-up spot Phil and (Y/N) had agreed with him.

“Phil, I want you to have the totem.” Techno held it out to his friend.

He saw Phil running from the wreckage the withers were causing as he could see the (H/C) head of hair weaving through the chaos. Techno lost his concentration as he stared at (Y/N), everything a dull roar as he smiled softly at their figure. Creating the scene of anarchy and chaos.

“Wait, I’m your damn fiancé, why don’t I get it?” (Y/N) gave a dramatic huff as they put a hand on their chest.

It was true, they both only had one life but…

“Because, you and I, we never die blood goddess,” Techno smirked.

“TECHNO!” They screamed.

He had missed seeing the crossbow aiming at him because he had been looking at (Y/N)…

He went to get his shield but he would be too slow…

Then there was a cracking as an ender pearl shattered in front of him and in a cloud of purple sparks appeared (Y/N), who gasped as they caught the crossbow bolt in the stomach.

“You’re such an idiot.” (Y/N) laughed. “Now! Let’s celebrate our freedom from the child by blowing up a nation!”

Techno laughed as he enjoyed the sparkle in their eyes at the thought of the anarchy.

“No, no, no!” Techno caught them as they fell, Jack quickly loading his crossbow again.

He needed to go.

Scooping them up, he bolted for where Phil was watching in wide-eyed shock. Phil managed to snap out of it though and covered Techno’s retreat as he tried to reassure (Y/N).

“It’s ok, we’re going to get you home, alright? Come on, you’re going to need to keep your eyes open for me beautiful.”

But (Y/N) winced before crying out as the crossbow bolt brought them pain. The voices were screaming in panic with them and Techno.

WE NEED TO GO FASTER! WE’RE OUT OF HEALTH POTIONS! WHY DID THEY TAKE THE BOLT! PHIL, HELP TECHNO! GO GO GO GO!

“I’m here mate!” Phil ran beside him now, taking off his jacket. “We got to keep pressure on it till we get to the potions. I sent a crow ahead to get one faster hopefully.”

Phil kept pace as pressed the jacket around the bleeding wound, (Y/N) letting out another scream. Techno wanted to scream himself as he ground his teeth together to keep himself together.

They had to cross the nether to get home!

They had so far to go!

That crow needed to get here yesterday!

“T-Techno.” (Y/N) sputtered.

“Quiet, keep your strength,” Techno demanded.

“I-I-I…” They muttered before their eyes blinked closed.

“We got to stop.” Phil panicked.

“We don’t have any potions!” Techno also panicked.

“We have to slow down the bleeding now!”

The pair stopped as Techno put (Y/N) down as Phil tried to work as fast as he could being the experienced healer. He tried to stem the bleeding as best he could, he couldn’t take the bolt out though and it had to have hit something important because there was too much damn blood!

Then a few minutes later…

(Y/N)’s chest stopping moving…

“No. No, no, no. Breath damn it!” Techno commanded, putting a hand on their shoulder.

“Techno…” Phil said quietly, tears in his eyes.

“Where’s your crow!?” Techno shouted. “We need a potion now!”

“…It’s not going to help Techno.”

“It has to! We—They’re not gone! They…they…”

Techno put his forehead on theirs as tears gathered in his eyes.

“Please…don’t leave me. I love you; I need you…”

But (Y/N) had fallen and lost their last life…

…

Techno had carried (Y/N) all the way home to the tundra and he held them for a while before he finally let himself bury them. Then…

He just sat there for hours, shaking.

In the freezing cold.

Next to the mound of dirt.

“Techno, mate. You got to come in.” Phil muttered as he came out as night was starting to fall.

“I don’t want to leave them,” Techno mumbled.

The voices were quiet whispers as they talked about all the things they loved about (Y/N) and Techno just sat listening to them, ignoring as Phil protested.

“They wouldn’t want you to die with them mate.” Phil finally broke through the voices.

Techno huffed, tears falling behind his mask. “And they didn’t want to die either.”

Phil sighed before just sitting next to his old friend.

“What are you doing?” Techno looked at him.

“You got to pass out eventually. Doubt all the adrenaline from the fight is helping.”

It really wasn’t. Techno felt bone tired and his body wanted nothing more than for him to sleep but he wanted nothing more to sit here with…(Y/N). He was covered in the blood of his lover and those he harmed today. Maybe it was all karma everything he had done…

It took another hour but finally, Techno’s body took control and he was out. Phil let out a long sigh before dragging the man into his own home. It was going to be a hard time for a while…

…

Phil thought Techno would be the same as the first night, that the other man would become unresponsive. His assumptions had been false though. In fact, it was worse.

Techno didn’t eat or sleep properly, which Phil had expected, but what he didn’t expect was for Techno to practically go insane as he poured over hundreds of lore books, trying to figure out how to bring (Y/N) back.

“Techno, mate, you need to take a break from this.”

“No, I will get them back. If I can just figure this out…I can do it.”

“You can’t do it if you die too!”

Phil went around these circles for hours, Techno sometimes striking low saying if he can figure it out, he could bring Wilbur back as well. Techno went full force into his work, the voices only encouraging his behavior as they threw out ideas to research. He had never listened to his voices more than now.

Techno had been so invested in his work, he didn’t notice when Phil gave Ranboo to build on the land, mostly because Phil gave him one rule, leave Techno be. Phil knew Techno the best and was trying his damn best to knock Techno back.

The blood god was pouring over notes for a hopeful experiment when Phil came in, food in hand as always.

“It’s late Techno, eat and go to bed,” Phil told him.

“After I’m done,” Techno muttered.

“Techno.”

“After. I’m done. Phil.” Techno gave him a dark glare before going back to his notes.

Phil sighed, putting the food down on the table. “Tommy locked Dream in prison.”

Techno frowned. That made him glance at Phil.

“Why?”

“Something about his discs as usual.” Phil crossed his arms, shrugging. “We got a notice on the radios that Dream lost two lives to Tommy.”

“Huh,” Techno mumbled, looking at his work again. “Kid should have finished him…”

Techno scribbled out a sentence. That wouldn’t make sense.

“Probably, I don’t know why he didn’t. Ranboo might know though.” Phil smirked to himself, his tactic working a bit well in his favor.

Techno’s interest was at least separating a bit from his research.

“Who?” Techno pulled over one of his sheets.

“The kid living outside the house.”

“Heh?” Techno looked up fully at that.

“He’s been here for weeks Techno; you’ve just been so caught up you haven’t noticed.” Phil pointed out now. “You need a break mate. You’re going…you’re going to kill yourself doing this.”

Techno looked at the papers in his hand.

“Techno, you need to fight another day. Come on.” (Y/N) tried to coax him away from preparing potions. “I’m tired.”

He clenched the papers as the voices were scattered, none of them focused on one thing right now.

“…Fine. I’ll at least talk to the kid.” Techno grumbled, getting up.

“Take the food.” Phil grinned.

Techno rolled his eyes, taking the bread but nothing else. He ate it as he left the house, his eyes not daring to travel to the beautiful flowers around the mound of dirt. Indeed, on his land, was a little house in the side of the hill. Huffing, he went over as the voices were skeptical, remembering one boy named Ranboo from L’Manberg and visiting Tommy.

“I can’t believe the little brat!” (Y/N) screamed as they paced around the house. “We gave him shelter! I should him love! AND HE BETRAYS US!”

Techno closed his eyes, his body shaking before trying to distract himself by knocking on the door.

“Phil?” A voice called from the other side before they opened the door.

The tall boy shrank seeing Technoblade at his door.

“Uhhhhh…hi,” Ranboo muttered, looking anywhere but the pig masked man.

Techno didn’t care really for pleasantries right now, so might as well get straight to the point.

“Hi, heard you might know why they locked Dream away rather than just kill him,” Techno grunted.

He hated the fact that Dream also had a favor over him. Would have been nicer for him if they had killed the smiley masked man.

“Oh yeah…I was there…hang on,” Ranboo muttered, taking a book off his belt and flipping through. “He uh…Dream said he had a book that could bring back the dead.”

Every. Single. Voice. Went silent.

As Techno stared at the tall hybrid, who shifted nervously at the stare.

“He did now?” Techno muttered.

“Y-Yeah. He said he could bring Wilbur back for Tommy.”

Techno didn’t care about the rest as his cape fluttered behind him as he took a determined march to the house to grab his things. If Dream wanted to cash in that favor, he owed him one more thing…

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction #technoblade x reader #dreamsmp x reader

500 notes · View notes

hqamore · 3 years

Text

boreal star ✵ chapter two

kirigan wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t care for appearance and reputation. he supposed he would have to tiptoe around you until you showed your cards. until then, he’d have you play new recruit.

series genre: romance & angst

series pairing: [past?] general kirigan (the darkling/aleksander) x reader

word count: 1.7k

warning: slight suggestive theme (mentioned in passing)

note: wow. i’m absolutely astonished with the enthusiasm the first chapter had. thank you guys so much! i have two exams next week so i’m not entirely sure if i’ll be able to update. i will try my best :)

here’s the masterlist

“here’s your room.” aleksander gestured to a room that was vaguely familiar.

brows furrowed, you turned to him. “your room is next to this one.”

his eyes rounded in mock innocence. “really? i hadn’t noticed.”

your nose crinkled in distaste as you glimpsed down the hall. “what of my old bedroom?”

“someone else is staying in there,” his arms folded across his chest. “alina starkov, the sun summoner.”

“oh? it’s to be expected, i suppose,” you bobbed your head, stepping to explore the room. “why create another staged cage when you already have one ready?”

“what?”

you observed the flowers by the bedside and plucked one out to tuck it behind your ear. “you like to give your prized cattle the very best so they may feel important, no? it makes it so much easier to subdue them.”

“what? prized cattle? alina’s not— you were never—”

while he wrestled for a response, you continued to inspect the room before happening upon a locked door. “where does this door lead to?”

“my room,” aleksander cleared his throat, recovering from your accusations.

you froze, your hands twitching, before you tore away from the door. “your room?”

“my bedroom, specifically,” he clarified. in that moment, he looked like the cat that ate the canary.

“why would anyone want to have a room connected to yours?”

looking into a mirror, aleksander fixed his appearance. “well, i assume these rooms were designed with my future lover in mind,” he replied.

bitterness rang throughout your body as you barked out a laugh. “your lover? to think you wouldn’t jump at the chance to house your precious sun summoner here. what? was there a snag in your plan to seduce her? a boyfriend back home?”

at his silent admission, your jaw dropped. then, genuine laughter erupted from you, causing you to lean on the bedpost. your knees nearly gave in until you saw his glare. you took deep breaths and tried to stifle your amusement behind your hand.

“i’m sorry. it’s rude to laugh,” you surrendered. while your giggles subdued, he remained silent. aleksander’s reflection was eerily still, his eyes far away from reality. when you stepped towards him, he broke from his stupor and made for the door.

“rest up. you have a full day ahead of you tomorrow.” he began closing the door when he paused just before it shut. “goodnight, [y/n].”

well, that was odd.

✵✵✵

with the sun high in the sky, aleksander walked with you to the training grounds.

“do all new recruits get escorted by you or is this arrangement special?” you walked beside him with your hands linked in front of you. you sported your new deep blue kefta with white detailing.

“i can’t risk you disrupting alina’s training with your spitefulness. whatever i may or may not be planning for her, she’s still ravka’s only hope of banishing the fold,” he said. “my accompanying you is a precaution as well as your formal introduction to the second army.”

as you approached your destination, you spotted multiple grisha huddled in a ring. two of them were fighting in the middle.

“you teach them physical combat now?”

“you’d be surprised how often we lose grisha to drüskelle because they’ve tied their hands. they cannot always rely on their powers,” he droned.

off to the side, you spotted a burly man. “you have a shu training them?”

aleksander looked down at you, “he used to be a mercenary. i think you’ll find him adequate.”

“i think you’ll find i’m already above your training,” you whispered as everyone turned their attention to you or, rather, aleksander.

the shu made his way over and bowed, “general kirigan, i had no idea you would be joining us today.”

you see a girl peek her head out from the corner of your eye, her face lighting up at the darkling’s entrance.

alina starkov. i see she already holds some sort of affection for him.

the general raised his hand, “please, botkin. i am only here to introduce everyone to our newest member, [y/n]. they’re a gravity summoner.”

at the sound of your name, you reverted your attention to the crowd and gave a small smile. placing a hand on the small of your back, aleksander guided you to the center.

“actually, i was hoping you could evaluate their combat skills.”

you whipped your head around, staring at him incredulously. he didn’t change his diplomatic smile when he met your eyes.

“that is no problem, general.” botkin faced you and gestured to the crowd. “please, choose your opponent.”

your eyes scanned the crowd before you smirked inwardly. “if it’s no trouble to the general, i would like to fight him,” you requested. “i’ve only ever heard how powerful general kirigan is and, well, if he is the standard…”

the grisha around you looked at you as if you were insane. you peeked through your lashes at aleksander whose eye was ever so slightly twitching. before botkin could voice his disapproval, aleksander shrugged his kefta off.

“why not? i can’t remember the last time someone challenged me so bravely.”

you grinned as you threw off your own kefta. out of the corner of your eye, you saw the sun summoner pushing her way into the circle with a dazzled look. botkin warily lifted his hand. “no using your powers. only your fists and wits.”

you nodded and took an offensive position. botkin threw his hand down, “fight!”

you dropped down, doing a low spinning kick, and swept aleksander off his feet. he landed on his back with shock evident on his face. you then pressed your knee onto his diaphragm and gripped his sleeve. grinning, you gave him a cheeky smile.

“i don’t think i’ve ever had you on your back,” you said in a hushed voice.

with annoyance written on his face, he grabbed the lapel of your shirt and pulled you off him. he trapped your arms by your sides as he straddled you.

“because you always liked it when i was in control,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. you thrusted your left hip up, effectively throwing him off balance and freeing you. you both scrambled to stand. aleksander crept closer to you and threw a punch. before his fist made contact, you blocked it and gripped his arm. you threw him over your shoulder and stepped on his shoulder joint. he groaned under the pressure when you leaned down.

“it’s a good thing i came to my senses then,” you said. “yield.”

he narrowed his eyes before you shifted your weight onto your foot. with the discomfort and pain rising, he quickly tapped your calf. you moved off him and offered a hand. he begrudgingly took it, allowing you to pull him up. the grisha stared with open mouths. you sheepishly smiled and hurriedly put your hands behind your back.

“i apologize, general kirigan. it seems i didn’t know my own strength,” you said in deceiving shyness.

he smiled tensely and slipped his kefta back on. “no, i am glad you are so advanced. it makes it all the more assuring that you are with us for the war effort.”

you bowed your head and brushed the dirt off your kefta, shrugging it back on. without another word, he left, alina following in his wake.

botkin clapped his hand on your shoulder. “you are an impressive fighter. where did you learn?”

“shu han. i lived there until hearing about the sun summoner.”

the man looked surprised before nodding. “your fighting style did appear familiar.” after that, he left you to be greeted by the others.

they were mostly friendly, some talking nonstop about how you defeated general kirigan. you just brushed it off as him going easy on a new recruit. you noticed another girl, a squaller judging by her kefta, glaring at you before stalking off.

“don’t worry about her,” a voice said. you turned to see none other than alina starkov herself. “apparently, she hates anyone that’s a threat to her spot as general kirigan’s favorite.”

“she must be delusional because there was nothing about that interaction that hinted at favoritism,” you snorted as you held a hand out. “[y/n].”

“i heard. i’m alina starkov.” she shook your hand with a bright smile. “it’s nice not to be the only new person.”

you returned her smile, “it all does feel rather isolating, doesn’t it?”

she laughed and nodded. “my friend, mal, and i never really liked grisha. they acted like they were the elite.”

ah, is mal the boyfriend?

“if i’m honest, i don’t like them either. i actually ran from ravka when i found out i was grisha,” you said honestly. “i guess i couldn’t run far enough.”

her eyebrows lifted, “oh? where did you run?”

“shu han. a nice place once the villagers get to know you.”

she tilted her head with confusion etching her face. “don’t they, you know, kill grisha?”

you scrunched your nose, “not as much on the outskirts. but, it gave me more reasons to hide my powers.”

“does that mean you’ll have to take lessons with baghra too?”

your shoulders tensed at the mention of the older grisha. you put on a grimacing smile, “i suppose so.”

oh, baghra’s going to kill me when she sees me.

with knowing eyes, alina grabbed your hands. “don’t worry. she’s a bit mean, but she does help you control your powers. 100% success rate, i hear.”

you nodded, patting alina’s hands, before withdrawing yours to your sides.

“alina!” two girls called. they waved their hands to usher her over.

alina looked at you apologetically. “sorry, i’ve got to go. lessons with baghra, actually.”

you sent her off with a wave. “it’s fine. it’s not like we won’t see each other again.”

she grinned, “right. i’d really like to be your friend, [y/n].”

you couldn’t help but soften at her words. “we already are, alina.”

her grin grew wider before she departed with her other friends, leaving you with your thoughts.

so full of life, that one. no wonder aleksander’s drawn to her. the brighter the light, the darker the shadows. let’s just hope he doesn’t snuff her out.

taglist: @kykymyeon @shelivesindaydreamswme @blackbirddaredevil23 @amortentiaaaa @safetyhtom @savannah-elliott

continue to chapter three? yes

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #grishaverse fanfiction #aleksander morozova x reader #boreal star

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authenticmiya · 3 years

Note

Hey, how are you ?!!

I love your imagines !!

I was wondering if you could do one with Johnny Lawrence of 84!

It's a suggestion 🥺

He had a secret crush on Tommy's best friend, Y / N, so he wanted to talk to her, but was afraid he just ended his relationship with Alli. And he knew that she didn't want a relationship now, due to the various traumas that occurred, so much so that the day comes that he decides to tell his feelings!

🥺🥺😘

My Girl - Johnny Lawrence x Reader

Summary - Reader and Tommy have been best friends since they could remember. Alongside Tommy, came the Cobra Kai’s. Meaning a certain blonde hair, blue eyed karate student, had his eyes on you.

Words - 2.1k

Warnings - mentions of toxic past relationships, fluff, angst.

A/N - I’m great Thankyou, how are you? Thankyou so much for sending in your suggestion! Anyone can feel free to send in any requests!

To everyone else, you were one of the prettiest girls in school. Curvy, honest, caring, nurturing. You weren't the typical 'popular girl' who'd turn her nose up at other groups of students, and that's why you were so loved.

You lived at home alongside your older sister. Your parents tended to business all over the country, meaning it was usually just the two of you. The two of you were very close, and supported each-other through everything, just like how you and your best friend, Tommy.

"So tell me again why you didn't want to go to the beach tonight? All of your Cobra Kai's are there." Y/S/N plopped herself next to you on the couch.

"Can't I enjoy a peaceful night in with my sister?" You smirked and she rolled her eyes.

"Okay fine, Ali's there." You groaned.

"So what? She's your best friend Y/N?"

"No she was my best friend, she's been talking shit about the Cobra's - even Tommy. I get that her and Johnny aren't together anymore, but I've gotta look out for my boys." You admitted, throwing popcorn into your mouth.

"Your boys? You mean Johnny is your boy? The guy has had the hots for you since you were ten." She stated and now it was your turn to roll your eyes.

"Then why did he date Ali?" You questioned.

"Oh baby sister, you have so much to learn. It's obvious that he wasn't going to ask you out before her. You'd just come out of a sticky relationship." You shivered at the thought of your past.

"I get you were young and in love with that jackass, but just because you were young, doesn't mean he had the right to hit you left, right and centre." Maybe she was right, you hadn't really let your guard down with anybody after that.

"Let's not bring that up please." You told her.

"The only thing stopping you two from growing old together, is the fact that Tommy is practically like your big brother. He'd flip a table." Your sister grinned. Speaking of Cobra's, you heard some motorcycles pull up outside your house.

"Snakes in three, two, one." Your sister counted down and then your door knocked.

"Your hair looks a mess." You admitted to Tommy, ruffling up his hair as he walked into your home.

"Honesty is the best policy Y/L/N." Bobby laughed.

"What the hell happened to you?" You questioned Johnny, noticing how flustered and sad he looked.

"Lover boy had his first dosage of heartbreak tonight at the beach." Bobby called out to you from the kitchen.

"Yeah nice one man, thanks!" Johnny said sarcastically, making his way through your house. You shot your sister a confused look, and she just shrugged her shoulders.

"Tommy, your ass better not be eating my leftover pizza!" Your sister shouted and that's exactly what he was doing.

"I appreciate that I'm not having to fix any of your faces tonight guys, but what exactly do you want?" You asked them, grabbing some lemonade from the fridge.

"Well sweet-heart, there's a new kid on the block, Daniel Larusso. He was flirting with Ali." Tommy stole your drink from your hand.

"And how do you feel about that?" You asked Johnny.

"She wouldn't talk to me, so I broke her radio and gave him a seek in assist the old fashioned way." Johnny admitted.

"I take it he's not as good at Karate as you then Johnny?" You joked, trying to make light of the conversation.

"The sexual tension in this room is making me gag." Your sister shoved passed you and grabbed a drink from the refrigerator.

"You're delusional." You muttered.

"I'm sure you'll be lucky with Larusso if you haven't already made a pass at Johnny." Bobby joked, but none of you laughed.

"Like hell man, watch your damn mouth." Johnny snapped.

"Dude seriously?" Tommy glared at him.

"I was joking, come on guys." Bobby tried to defend himself and you all ignored him.

"Quit being mean so Bobby, he just wanted to be apart of the comedian club." You snickered, making everybody burst into laughter.

"I take it you guys are staying the night?" Your sister asked them all.

"It's an annual thing, so if you don't mind?" Tommy smiled.

"Dude, the three of you have sleepovers everyday of the week. It's a fucking daily thing at this rate." Your sister laughed, heading up the stairs to sort the sleeping arrangements out.

Once the beds were ready to go, everyone seemed fairly tired and headed upstairs.

"Y/N wait-" Johnny stopped you from outside your room. Unbeknownst to him that his two friends, and your sister were eavesdropping.

"Can I please talk to you? I kinda need a girl's help, and well you get Tommy through a lot of shit.." He began to rant and you stopped him.

"Calm down Johnny, let's talk." You ushered him into your room, and he laid on your bed, leaning against the bed frame.

"I didn't really know how to say it front of everyone, but you know what a breakup is like. How'd you get over it?" Johnny sighed and you frowned.

"I don't think I ever really got over it because of what he did to me. I'd like to have said I turned into some badass overnight but I didn't. It takes time, and the two of you only broke up a couple of weeks ago. The whole situation is still raw and you have to allow yourself time to heal." You admitted to him.

He couldn't help but stare at you, take in all of your perfections as you we're giving him advice.

"Young love is a load of ass Y/N. She didn't even care about what I had to say tonight." Johnny frowned and it really did look like he was about to cry.

"Jokes on her Johnny, because any girl should be blessed to have you." You smiled, making his stomach erupt into a million butterflies.

"I really appreciate that." He whispered, slowly leaning in, but you leaned back.

"I'm so sorry if you thought that's where I was going with this Johnny, I don't think either of us are ready for that just yet." You coughed out, not really sure how to deal with it.

"No I'm sorry Y/N, I shouldn't have done that. Shit." Johnny was quick to scramble out of your room, and it took you a few moments to comprehend the situation.

Chasing after him and staying in your room were your thoughts for the night. You knew he'd probably be embarrassed, so you didn't wanna push that any further. But he wanted to kiss you. Was that because he wanted to use you as a rebound? To get over his eventful evening with his ex? You had no idea. Or was it because he had now genuinely come to terms of how he really felt towards you?

“Wake your ass up!” Tommy screamed as the morning sunshine came through your curtains.

“Tommy I’m giving you five seconds to get the heck out of my room, or I’m going to smack you silly.” You yawned, suddenly realising it was your first day back for senior year.

“You weren’t saying that to Johnny when he tried to kiss you last night.” Tommy whispered, and your eyes nearly fell out of your head.

“Your secrets safe with me sleepy head, but he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t mean it.” Tommy gave you a half-hearted smile and left you alone.

“One year to make it all work Y/N.” You muttered, throwing on some clothes to start your senior year.

“The queen has finally made her entrance.” Tommy laughed, handing you a plate of pancakes.

“You look beautiful Y/N.” Bobby smiled, making Johnny clench his jaw.

“Wow it finally looks like a cat hasn’t dragged you through a bush.” Y/S/N ruffled up your hair.

“Well now if does.” You groaned, flattening your hair back out. Time was ticking and it was soon time for school.

“Have a good day you guys!” Your sister waved you all off. It was as if the Cobra’s had it planned all along, because Tommy and Bobby were quick to drive away on their motor-cycles, leaving you and Johnny.

“Can I pitch a ride please?” You asked Johnny with hopeful eyes.

“Of course.” He smiled lightly.

“Can we please talk about last night?” You asked and his smile soon faded.

“We’ve gotta get to school.” You nodded at him, before sitting behind him. The journey to school wasn’t long at all, and it was typical for you to spend your morning alongside the Cobra Kai’s motorcycles.

“I don’t want things to be awkward Johnny, you’re one of my best friends. I’ve got a lot of issues, despite how happy I come across. Maybe one day we can make a thing of us?” You suggested and he had nothing to say.

And so that’s how was it was like, for a very long few weeks after that. Johnny hadn’t said a lot to you, and it slowly made you realise, that you didn’t know what you had, until it started to go away.

“Johnny still not talking to you?” Tommy asked, as the two of you walked together in front of the Cobra Kai’s. You turned around, but Johnny avoided eye contact before turning around the corner to his class.

“He’s insanely in love with you Y/N, I guess he’s just scared.” In love? Come again?

“In love with me, why would you say that?” You asked.

“Trust me, I know.” The two of you continued walking towards your classroom, when you were stopped by a certain Daniel Larusso.

As Johnny was walking to class, he couldn’t help let the overwhelming sense of guilt override him.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N dude?” Bobby asked one of his best friends.

“I don’t know myself man.” Johnny responded.

“You two are so damn love blind.” Bobby groaned in annoyance that his two friends still hadn’t made moves on each-other.

“I can’t push the boundaries again, it’s obvious she’s afraid to be with someone new, and I don’t want to upset her.” Johnny admitted.

“That’s the thing though Johnny, you’re not someone new. Everyone knows about what happened with her ex, and you can be the one to make her trust again.” Bobby’s words were so convincing.

“I’ve gotta go and get my girl.” Johnny shoved his books into Bobby’s hands and rushed back to the other hallway you were in with Tommy. But Bobby didn’t stop there, of course he was going to watch the scene unfold.

“What the hell do you want Larusso?” Tommy stood protectively in front of you.

“You need to sort your boyfriend out Y/N, his attitude is kind of stinky.” Daniel teased.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You muttered.

“I think he’s about to be.” Tommy noticed Johnny heading over to the two of you.

“Get the hell away from my girl, punk.” Johnny shoved Daniel out of the way, and you bit the inside of your cheek anxiously - not wanting your first day back to end up in a fight.

“Why does everyone think I’m you girlfriend?” You asked Johnny.

“Because I’ve waited so damn long to be able to call you mine Y/N, and I don’t want him taking you away from me, like he did with everything else.” Johnny admitted his feelings, regardless of everybody around him.

“Johnny what are you talking about?” You asked him.

“I’m not him Y/N. I will never be him. I think, I think I love you.” Johnny stepped forward and this time, you allowed him to kiss you. You felt yourself melting on the inside. Cheers and claps echoed through the school hallway as the bell rang.

“What do you say Y/N, will you please be my girlfriend?” He asked, lacing his hands with yours.

“Of course.” You blushed, wrapping your arms around him, and he felt the instant sigh of relief.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.” You whispered.

“I was so not jealous, I was about to beat Larusso’s ass.” Johnny told you seriously.

“I think you’re forgetting about what Tommy might do to you.” You chuckled, looking over at your best friend and his attempt to look angry.

“It’s not half of the things that I’m going to do to you.” Johnny smirked. You could finally be free of your past, you finally had your man, and boy was he worth the wait.

#johnny lawrence imagine #cobra kai imagine #cobra Kai #cobra Kai x reader #Johnny Lawrence x reader #Johnny Lawrence #the karate kid #the karate kid x reader #the karate kid imagine

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greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (Part Three)

-part three is here! I had to slice it in two because apparently there's a certain word block limit (at least on mobile). So get ready for part four!

Summary: You can’t remember anything.

Month four, 08:00

The last thing you recalled was the face of a boy with light hair. His eyes were bright, swirling with love and affection you looked for everyday. Whenever you woke up, you couldn’t remember his name, or his sweet voice that called out to you in your dreams.

All you had was the light of day and the rising sun. It made you sad to look upon it alone in your room. Someone else were supposed to be by your side, right next to you. But who?

And then there was the absence of a motherly figure--a woman you only recalled through song. How was it you remembered that melancholy tune but not a name or face? You wished you knew, and you prayed everyday to whoever was up there to give you another chance. Another go at life--with the people you never knew the names of.

“Good morning, Letha.”

You met the old man’s gaze with a simple nod. His crinkly voice was one of the things you actually didn’t mind, even if it was hard to hear at times.

The old man, Alex, was kind, but the most you conversed about were your lost memories, your insane knacks for weapons, chess, and lastly, intelligence.

Time wasn’t friendly, and a month passed uneventfully. It turned into two, which turned into three and so on. Every now and then, you wondered if you’d stay like that: a blank slate. Alex said there was this one philosopher who called it a ‘tabula rasa’. For some reason, that fact reminded you of someone long ago.

Dark hair, the smell of old books, dust hidden between bookshelves...

You began to make out the image of a boy. He was no older than you, with cool eyes, a warm, yet small smile. Who was he? His name was at the tip of your tongue, yet it wouldn’t come out.

Ren? Reylo? Tired Cyclops? No, that wasn’t it. Obviously.

It hurt to think too much about it, and before you could grasp onto it, the memory faded, along with the name.

“Don’t think too hard,” Alex warmly said. “I’m sure it’ll come with time.”

He hoped to help you recover your lost memories, but in the meantime, he’d do his best to support you, just as he’d done with his long, dead daughter. For that reason, he felt it was time to bring you to the world outside. In this town you both resided in, everyone died in a war.

Alex was the only survivor.

For that reason, he was the only person you ever got to know these past seven months. There was no one your age around here, and it wasn’t like you went far anyway. Every now and then, Alex brought you a few towns over to experience a nice train ride to his favourite shops. Then he’d buy you something and take pictures.

But now? He felt it was time to take it a step further. He wasn’t sure if you’d like the idea, but it was worth a try.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER, 06:28

“Come again?” you inquired. Alex took a sip of his coffee and stood from the chair. The wooden floorboards of the cabin creaked under his weight. He waddled over to the window, drawing open the plaid curtains. Warm rays of sunlight fluttered upon your face and Alex smiled warmly like he always did.

“It’s time you get out more,” he said, “and experience the world outside this old town. I want you to look across the horizon because there’s more than the cabin.” You knitted your brows together. You didn’t like how cryptic he was being. It reminded you of someone you once knew, someone who you held close to your heart.

“Gramps, what are you trying to say?”

Alex heaved in a long breath, as if he were afraid of saying it himself. “I want you to go to school. College, if you want the specifics.” Your eyes doubled in size and you hoped, prayed, that he would take it back and say it was a joke. College? You didn’t need a degree! And besides, it was expensive. You couldn’t afford something like that. But alas, Alex wasn’t one to joke about serious things like that. He was an old man, so he always meant what he said.

This time was no different.

“You mean it,” you practically whispered. “That you want me to go to college.” Alex nodded, absentmindedly running a hand through his thick, white beard. There was a long pause and you took the time to sip your tea. Would school benefit you in some way? Was it worth the time? The work?

It didn’t make sense. You were smart. Alex said it himself: “I haven’t met anyone as smart as you”. So why did he want to send you to school? It had to be more than just to “meet people” because you did that all the time on the train every few days.

“What’s so good about college, Gramps? We can’t afford to pay for something so expensive. I don’t want to see you in debt just because of me.”

Through your calm façade, Alex noticed the spark of uncertainty in your eyes. Throughout the long days he got to know you, he realised one thing: you were never keen on showing your emotions.

“I want to give you an opportunity to find yourself,” he finally replied. “If the people you knew are around your age, then going to school might bring something back. You know, jog your memories. Besides that, I want you to have a life more than that I can offer. There’s nothing in this small town.”

“I don’t know about that. I have you here. You’re all I know, Gramps.”

Alex knitted his bushy brows together. “I know, but I can’t always be the only one you know. Don’t you want to see the world?”

It wasn’t that going to college was excruciatingly disappointing, only that it was a means of giving out false hope. How could you cling onto something so child-like and unreliable?

Hope could only get people so far. You were no different.

That night, you lay in bed, wide awake. A nagging thought kept pulling at the back of your mind, repeating itself over, and over, and over again until you couldn’t stand the phrase. But as soon as you repeated it with your own lips, it vanished as if it never existed.

You lay in bed for a little longer, fighting the lull of sleep. It pulled on your eyes, and your head nodded as you forced down a yawn. Sleep was for the weak. If you stayed awake a little longer, maybe you might remember something, right?

-----

The grass tickled your bare feet. If it were any normal day, you would have liked to lay down in its warm embrace with Emma, Ray and Norman. You could watch the clouds together, and wonder about life outside these concrete walls.

But that was stupid to think about, wasn’t it? The liberty to relax and do absolutely nothing had been striped from your very being, like the air that you gasped and chocked on. You held your shoes tightly to your chest and frantically glanced past your shoulder. Good. All clear, just how you liked it.

Norman and Emma lay a couple hundred meters behind. They were your eyes, the two little owls that perched high above with all-seeing eyes. With a grunt, you hopped over a thick tree root and tossed aside your shoes. They landed somewhere in the brush, right where the trees parted.

You came to a stop and glared at the concrete wall towering over you. If you completed your mission and everything remained as straight-forward as you wanted it to be, then you’d escape with everyone. Just like Emma wanted. Just like you tried so hard to believe.

But what if something happened? What if Don and Gilda were caught? Or worse, what if Mama suspected that Ray betrayed her? Surely she wouldn’t go as far as to eliminate him on the spot...

...right?

You clenched a fist so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Stop. Stop it, you told yourself. You had to have faith in your family. They were just as capable as you, maybe even more, so they’d have no issues. You had to focus on your job so they could do theirs.

“My, so this is where you’ve run to?”

You sucked in a sharp breath.

No, that couldn’t be. You made sure she wouldn’t know where you were. You told all the precautions, too. Were Emma and Norman okay? What about Ray? And Don and Gilda?

“I’m surprised you managed to make this far.” Mama stiffly said. “You never were as strong as Emma, or fast either.”

It was like the sun stopped shining. Your blood ran cold. The warm rays turned to ice.

“It’s not too late to turn back (Y/n).” Her voice was silky smooth, tempting almost, as if she were coaxing a frightened sheep to the slaughter. “You’ve improved, my dear, but is it enough? Once your plan crumbles, what will you do then? It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama. It’s the reliable path. You will survive and you will be happy.”

For a moment, you wondered if she actually cared about you. Maybe her love was all fake from the beginning and she didn’t care about you. Or your family. Or anything but survival in this cruel world.

You never loved us.

That was what you wanted to say, yet the words stuck in your throat like glue. If she didn’t love you, then why did she hold you so tightly when you had a nightmare? If she didn’t love you, then why did her eyes shine with pride when you got perfect scores?

“Come, my dear,” Mama coaxed. “Let’s go home.”

The sudden urge to laugh bubbled in your throat like lava.

Home? This was a prison in disguise.

It’s not too late to turn back? A lie.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea to become a mama? As if.

You couldn’t afford to betray your family. Not after all you’ve done, and not after all the effort. They relied on you. You weren’t going to let them down.

You turned on your heel to face Mama. She smiled at you, but it wasn’t a nice smile. It made your stomach twist and turn, reminded you just how much of a danger she could be. Your gaze focused past her shoulder, where a familiar head of orange stood.

Emma peeked out from behind the trees and held up the bag of rope. Norman stood from a cluster of bushes and motioned the the wall. They were going to climb it while you distracted Mama. Perfect.

A bright grin broke out onto your lips. “I’m sorry Mama.” you began.

She stood like a statue with wide eyes. “Are you now?” she inquired. You were finally conceding in this fiery war of wits. After all that fuss and now would she have you back by her side? She opened her arms to welcome you. It was all she could do with her prized little girl. Finally you were being smart. Finally you were choosing the reliable path. You were going to follow in her footsteps. Survive. And outlive everyone in this house like she had.

But then something happened. Emma burst from the bushes, followed by Norman who helped throw the rope up a nearby branch. That triggered you into action, and you lunged at Mama with all the strength you could muster.

“I will never--!”

You wrestled for her watch.

“--ever--!”

Mama tugged on your little arms.

“--leave my family behind!”

You yanked the stupid watch out of her hands, but just as you stood, Mama grasped onto your leg and tugged. Hard. She gave it a squeeze, and a sickening crack echoed in your ears. You screamed. Your ears rung and you heaved in a strangled breath.

“You should have taken the reliable path.” Mama’s calm voice made you want to vomit. “None of us would be here if you had listened to your mama.”

-----

Your eyes shot open and you jolted awake. The faces, the voices, the senses--they flashed before you in a whirl of colours and sounds. Why couldn’t you recall who they were? Or what their names were? You knew every single one of them by heart, yet your mind lay completely blank. Again.

The urge to punch your mattress overwhelmed your senses.

“Good morning,” came Alex’s crinkly voice. That snapped you out of your frustrated stupor. He stood in the doorway, a warm smile on his lips and a spatula in hand. “Pancakes are almost done. Today we’ll get you settled in your dorm.”

Oh. Right. Gramps was sending you to a boarding school. The thought of leaving your beloved bed left you queasy and sluggish. Why should you go somewhere so far away from this cozy, little cottage? It was only recently that you settled here too. Maybe Gramps was taking it too fast.

With a heavy heart, you lugged yourself out of bed and threw on a pair of warm clothes. The unforgiving climate of this land was not one you would challenge. Ever.

The moment you emerged from your room was the moment you understood Gramps’s insistence. He meant well, you knew, but in a way you didn’t appreciate. Going out gave you a higher chance of meeting whomever you knew. It was completely logical.

“Are you worried?” Gramps began, placing a stack of pancakes on your plate. “I’ve already informed your school teachers of your amnesia, so they’ll understand. As for your dormitory, everything has been set. And don’t forget your breakfast, lunch, and dinner plans, as well as your--”

“You seem more anxious than me, Gramps.” you said with a subtle smile. He stared at you, wide-eyed until he mirrored you with a chuckle. “I suppose you’re right. I just want to make sure the transition goes smoothly.”

“Of course.”

“And that you’re safe and okay.”

“Gramps--”

“And that you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

“--the pancake’s burning.”

That set him off. He jolted out of his chair faster than his age and capabilities should have allowed. It was a miracle too, because the poor pancake was seconds away from catching fire on the pan. A long sigh left Gramps’s lips as he turned off the stove. “I think I’ll give this to the birds.”

“You best do that, because I won’t eat that piece of charcoal.”

You shared a quick chuckle between each other, savouring the warmth and comfort that came. If someone else had found you that day in the field of endless grass, you weren’t sure if you’d be so lucky. It was by chance Gramps was the one to discover you, so you couldn’t imagine life otherwise.

Once your pancakes were gone and your bag all packed, you traveled to the train station in the early rays of sun. Gramps was the type of enjoy the silence of nature, but to you, it was excruciating.

It didn’t matter where you went. Each time, you looked past your shoulder, to the fading mountains, to the little rabbits that scurried by. It was like you were on survival mode. But why should you be when there was nothing out here? It was so peaceful, so wonderful that you couldn’t imagine anything coming out to get you.

Smile. It’s okay, I promise. I’m here.

You froze and glanced past your shoulder towards the rolling hills and the fading grass. That voice--you knew it. But had you dreamed it up? There was no one here but you and Gramps. A short sigh left your lips and all Gramps could do was ruffle your hair comfortingly.

The train ride was nice. With the calm chugging and the way it swayed, you didn’t mind it at all. Every now and then, your eyes fluttered open and closed. Maybe you were tired. Maybe you weren’t a morning person. Whatever the reason, you submitted to the lull and closed your eyes.

-----

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?”

You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die.

Die.

He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try. Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together? “Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. The forced smile the sprouted on his lips looked painful. Don’t struggle, it said.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off ground. Your leg hit her arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma remained frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.” Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but with the warm smile on your face, she couldn’t gather the courage to. Instead, she settled for a tight hug.

It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

Gentle smiles. A warm summer breeze. Soft kisses. Tender touches. That was what reminded you of the boy in your dreams. Although you couldn’t recall his face every time you awoke, you remembered the fact that he was handsome and kind.

Gramps offered a warm smile. “Good morning.” You covered your yawn with a hand. “I’m assuming we’re here?”

He nodded. “Are you excited?” It was obvious Gramps knew the question. He only wanted to hear the answer from your mouth rather than from an assumption. As much as you wished to be excited for such a grand opportunity, you weren’t sure you’d like school. Well, how could you guess when you’ve never been to school in the first place?

At least from what you could recall.

“I still don’t know how to feel about this,” you quietly say. Gramps guides you along the walkway and out of the train, where you step out of the station and to the bustling streets of the city. You frown. Gramps said you were going to a boarding school, was it supposed to be somewhere as crowded as here?

From what you read, boarding schools needed large spaces to accommodate dormitories, classrooms, and sports fields. Was there such a thing as space in this congested collection of skyscrapers?

You shook your head to yourself and followed Gramps down whatever path his old-fashioned map led him to. He walked slow. Too slow for your liking. Not only that, but with all the people around, you couldn’t bear not to stick close to his side. What if he got lost? What if you got lost? Or kidnapped and sold on the black market for organs?

Maybe you were just paranoid.

The looming skyscrapers offered no comfort, and the cool breezes that sent shivers down your spine weren’t helping either. You hopped over a patch of ice and pulled your jacket closer just as Gramps came to a stop.

A lot of land stood in the middle of all the skyscrapers, where a pale field of grass stretched out over the acres of land. Buildings that looked like castles peppered themselves out in the form of classrooms, mess halls, and corridors.

You stood in the shadow of the tall brick walls. It separated the school from the rest of the city. An overwhelming feeling of bittersweet hope filled your system, as if you’ve stood in front of a wall like this before. Had you been here? No. You were sure this was your first time seeing the school.

“Take care Letha.” Gramps said. “Don’t forget to eat and exercise, as well as make some new friends. I expect you to call at least once a week, just so I know you’re doing fine.” You smiled a little, cheeks warm in embarrassment. “Gramps, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“I know, I know. Just...this is a big step for you.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Be careful, and have fun. Even if you don’t remember anything, as long as you have fun, it’s fine.” He wrapped you in a tight hug. “And most importantly, I love you Letha.”

You basked in the warmth of his arms. You didn’t need to worry about your memories in that moment because you had Gramps. He was your world. Your family. What more could you ask for? But then he pulled away, and the warmth didn’t linger.

You were still incomplete.

The next day, you found yourself wandering the halls aimlessly, picking apart each detail and escape route in sight. The hall to your left had an exit to the school courtyard, a peaceful place with metal chairs and picnic tables. To your right sat another hall, which also had an exit to another courtyard. Then in front of you stood the front entrance, where the side exits fanned out in the halls next to it.

“Hey, you’re the new girl, right? Letha Meek-aye...Mikhaylov?”

You spun around faster than the speed of light. In front of you stood a girl, perhaps a year older with an unfriendly frown. She wore the generic school uniform: black skirt, long socks, white blouse, gray sweater vest, and a tie. Her bright, red locks stood out like a sore thumb. They curled past her shoulders in beach waves, framing her narrow, freckled face in rouge.

For a moment, you blanked out. When was the last time you spoke to someone, much less a teenager your age? Even though this girl wasn’t intimidating, it wasn’t like you wanted to talk to her. The point of coming here was to figure out if anything jogged your memory and then leave. It wasn’t playtime. “I’m new.” Your voice came out calmer than you felt. “Is that an issue?”

Despite the pointed look on her face, you had a feeling she was one of the nicer people in the area. She had a soft look in her green eyes, as if she understood what it felt like to be a new kid. “I’m Flanna Morris,” she said with a small smile. “Nice to meet you Letha.”

Flanna had an accent. By the hard ‘r’s and the elongated ‘oo’ sounds, you guessed she had to be from Ireland. Gramps told you it wasn’t too far from here, but still a while away.

You sent Flanna a cautious side eye. She was being too friendly. “Yeah, nice to meet you too...Flanna.” A hearty laugh that bellowed in her stomach echoed in the quiet corridors. “Look,” she said, “I’m not here to bully you. I just wanted to offer some help.”

Help? Yeah right. No one in this world offered help without asking for something in return. Besides Gramps maybe--but he was a special case, it didn’t count.

“Come on, I’ll show you around Letha.” The look on Flanna’s sweet face made it hard to decline. If you weren’t interested in seeing if there were any places you missed, then you would have declined. But perhaps Flanna could show you more than the shallow surface of this boarding school.

You passed to through the quiet corridors, where the sun shone through the windows overlooking the street. The sun rose over the horizon and up the edge of the skyscrapers’ base. Cars bustled about, and even through the thick brick walls, you heard all the honking and yelling of the early morning traffic.

“So, where’re you from?” Flanna inquired. You tugged on the strap of your bag’s shoulder strap. “Far away.”

“What do you mean by ‘far away’?”

“I mean the countryside.” you clarified. Flanna ‘ohhh’ed. “The city must be a huge change for you then, I know it was for me.” You knitted your brows together. So she was from the countryside in Ireland? That’s more than a simple change of scenery. No wonder Flanna wanted to help you.

“Okay, so here’s the science hall. Ms. Darsey is one of the best teachers you can have around. You’re a juniour, right? I’m a senior--if you couldn’t already tell...”

Flanna talked a lot. No, she didn’t just love talking, she loved explaining all her experiences with x, y, and z teacher, as well as what classroom and what day of the month it was. She had a wonderful memory, you had to admit, but that made her stories long. Her energy was like a breath of fresh air, and that red hair of hers sparkled like jewels in the morning light.

Flanna’s hair was fiery just like a girl’s you used to know. Her face wasn’t clear in your mind whenever you thought of her, but the joy she always brought you stayed. It made your heart warm. Flanna seemed to have a similar effect, but not as strongly as the girl you once knew.

“You have Mr. Dursley for English,” she noted. “Make sure you don’t stick out. He’s a big pain and if you’re late, he’ll give you a detention.” You raised a brow. Mr. Dursley detained teenagers for being late? What kind of nonsense was that? You decided to phone Gramps later and ask him if that were true. He’d know. Hopefully.

The look on your face made Flanna chuckle, but you had a feeling she didn’t understand your thought process. “Don’t worry,” she casually said. “You’ll be fine. I bet’cha Connor and James will be the first to get a detention. They’re both trouble makers--little devils. Especially James.” You stared up at Flanna’s bright, green eyes. They sparkled like the sun against her hair. You��ve seen that look before, the one of unsaid love and adoration. Long ago, someone looked at you like that.

But who?

You wracked your brain for answers. It was on the tip of the tongue. Right there--just in front of you. Yet it was as if something were preventing you from seeing the truth. The one postulate you knew stuck throughout the days you’ve forgotten who you once were.

Backtrack. Backtrack.

A boy. Light hair. Soft eyes. Kind smile. A laugh that was like music. And the calling of your name.

“(Y--n)!”

Yes, that was the sound of his voice, right? Or maybe it was a stranger’s instead, someone’s you’ve heard on the street. Then whose name was that? Was it even a name to begin with? Maybe it was a word instead and you misheard it as a name. That thought made your heart throb in the worst way possible. Ice filled your veins, and you found yourself pausing to stare out the crystal, clear windows.

“Something wrong?” Flanna inquired. You blinked away the haze and turned to her with a shake of your head. “Just nervous.” A bright smile burst onto Flanna’s lips. “Ah, I see. No worries, you’ll do great. And if you don’t it’s your first day, right? Nothin’ wrong with messin’ up a little.”

You wished you could believe Flanna, but something deep in your heart said otherwise. A slip-up could cost someone more than their reputation. Possibly their life. You couldn’t speak from experience, but you were sure you’d seen a sacrifice. Long ago. Far away in the distance.

Flanna stopped in front of your first period class. “We still have about fifteen minutes before school starts. Everyone’s probably in the cafeteria eating breakfast or fooling around in the field. I recommend you come early to class so you don’t get caught up in the crowd.” And with that, she waved, turning on her heel to hurry away. “I’ll see you during lunch! We have it together, so I’ll come find you in the cafe!”

She rounded a sharp corner and disappeared, leaving you alone in the quiet hall. You peeked in through the open door. At a long desk sat a teacher, who stood at the notice of your presence. She wore thin glasses on her old squarish face, a white blouse with a tie, a woolen navy blazer, and black trousers with heels to match.

The teacher had a kind face, with eyes that were soft with years of wear and tear. The smile on her lips said it all--she had seen things. Many things. “Welcome, I assume you’re Letha Mikhaylov?” She had a crinkle in her voice like the edges of her eyes when she smiled. It complimented her kindly face.

“Yes.” you replied. “That’s me.”

“Well I’m Mrs. Walker.” She motioned for you to come in, that sweet smile still on her lips. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve been informed that you have amnesia. May I ask how much you remember?” You folded your hands together. It was the least you could do to look less nervous.

“I remember skills, knowledge, and the arts. I do not recall my original name or what my life was like before, but I am still highly-functional. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Walker. ”

The way you worded your sentences was off-putting to the teacher. It wasn’t normal for high school students to be so in-line, much less well-off with their manners.

From the report she read, you were taken in by Alex Mikhaylov, a writer who lived in an old, deserted town. He claimed he’d been trying to help you re-gain your memories for nearly a year, but from the looks of it, there wasn’t much to go off of.

Mrs. Walker took a seat at her neat desk. A pencil sharpener sat at the corner along with a tissue box, stapler, tape dispenser, and a plastic name plaque. In bolded letters it said, Mrs. Walker. Of course, in cursive. A few photos were cramped by her computer, where she stood there, smiling with a young girl and a man. Mrs. Walker looked to be around twenty-eight to thirty in that photo.

You stood by her desk awkwardly. Were you supposed to sit in the back? Near the window? Or in the front? The sinking feeling of unfamiliarity plagued your mind as you ran a hand through your locks.

There weren’t any other students here besides you.

“You may take a seat wherever you’d like Letha,” Mrs. Walker said. “I do not assign seats in this class, but if there is an issue, I can if you’d like. Is there anything I should know about you?” You shook your head and took a seat by the window. The football fields, frost-bitten and white, stretched out as far as the eye could see. A little to the left of that were the dormitories. Red brick walls and sparkling clean window panes, just like every other building at the school.

Winter was a wonderful season, but you wished it weren’t so cold all the time. Maybe if there were a bit of snow, it would cheer you up, jog your memory even. “I’m not sure if I have anything of importance.” Your voice echoed in the deserted classroom like a bell. “But I hope I can do my best.”

A smile broke out onto Mrs. Walker’s lips. “Don’t hope, do.”

And so you did. You vowed to do what you could with whatever you could. You weren’t going to hope to do your best, or hope to find your memories because you would. They’d come back to you, and you were going to do everything in your power to get them back.

PART FOUR COMING SOON [GIVE ME LIKE THREE DAYS TO ADD A BONUS PORTION BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS] -->UPDATE: PART FOUR HERE <--

#tpn #tpn norman x reader #tpn ray #tpn emma #ynn norman #ynn emma #ynn ray #ynn isabella #ray the promised neverland #emma the promised neverland #norman the promised neverland #the promised neverland x reader #anime x reader #x y/n #fanfic #tpn fanfic

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thekingslover · 3 years

Text

Jetski For Sale (Lokius fic)

He stops riding the jetski.

He keeps it on the small trailer at the end of his driveway beside his modest split-level home and covers it with a blue tarp.

Every morning, in his brown button-up pajamas and a bathrobe, he walks to the end of the driveway and collects the morning paper. He’s careful to hold his coffee mug steady as he leans down, but he always manages to spill a drop or two. His slippers are covered in tiny coffee spots.

He tucks the newspaper under his arm and turns back toward his house. He left the television on; through the window, the screen flashes with the bright white letters, Breaking News! Two houses down, his neighbor is already out mowing the lawn. Further away, a dog barks.

Though he lives alone, it’s a perfect life. Everything’s simple. His mortgage is affordable. His brown sedan is paid off. And the jetski...

He doesn’t remember buying it. He always wanted one, dreamed of it. He had a savings set aside for someday. Yet... his savings is still there, and he still has this jetski.

He looks at it now, at the way it bulges under the tarp. A shame to leave it like that. He should take it out again. But the last time he did that...

Shaking his head, he walks back to the house. He drinks his coffee and reads his newspaper. He goes to work, comes home, goes to sleep, and does it all again the next day.

“Something’s different about you,” his sister says on the phone, their weekly call. “You sound different.”

“Same old me.” He’s good at keeping back his feelings and pushing forward the cheer.

She knows, though. Older sisters always seem to. “Are you sure you haven’t been seeing anyone lately?”

This sends him laughing. “A secret boyfriend? Come on, you have quite an imagination on you.”

“Laugh all you want,” she says, stern. She’s not backing down, though her voice does soften as she adds, “It’s only that you... Well, you sound... heartbroken.”

“That’s...” He should deny it. He hasn’t dated anyone in a good long while, but, well, now that she mentions it... He’s had his heart broken before, long ago, and it felt a little something like this. Like something crucial is suddenly missing. Like you spent so much time learning someone and adapting to them, shaping whole parts of your life around them, and then they are just... gone.

There’s a person-sized hole in his life now, but he can’t quite remember their shape.

No, that can’t be.

“That’s crazy,” he says, thinking, maybe I’m crazy.

“Why don’t you come visit us for a while?” she says. “The kids would love to see you.”

“Yeah,” he says, shaky. “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. Tell them I love them. Love you too.” Then he hangs up.

That night, he lays on his back in bed and stares at the ceiling, afraid to look to his right. He used to sleep sprawled across the entire width of the bed, a true bachelor enjoying his bachelorhood. When did he start picking one side?

He turns over, facing away from the barren expanse of the rest of the mattress, but the bookshelf offers little comfort. Most of his books are about history, biographies on interesting characters from the past. There’s a couple of jetski magazines wedged in, too. But what catches his eye... He remembers buying it, knows he did, the morning after watching a documentary on the perception of time and space. The documentarian had written a book. The Mobius Strip.

Frowning, he doesn’t find any sleep that night, no matter how many long minutes he closes his eyes, or how many sheep he tries to count in his head.

Mobius.

It’s a mathematical theory. Not a name. But it wedges between his ribs and stays buried behind them.

He’s not even a maths guy! But he can’t shake it. It feels heavy, too important.

He tosses and turns. He reaches out to the other side of the bed, realizes its empty, and snaps upright, dread overtaking him for one sharp moment before he remembers that its supposed to be empty.

This is normal. This is his perfect little life.

He flops back into bed and runs a hand down his face. Maybe he should go visit his sister, before he fully loses his mind.

His hands shake the next morning when he walks out to get the newspaper at the end of the driveway. Half his coffee spills when he leans to pick it up, but its fine. Maybe he should give up coffee entirely. Maybe too much caffeine is his problem.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

Turning towards the house, he spots the jetski, there under the blue tarp. The mysterious jetski that he doesn’t remember buying. The one, when he’s out on it, he sits too far forward, like he’s making space for someone behind him. But there’s no one there. There’s never anyone there.

The jetski, he decides, was the start of his problems. Maybe if he... If he...

Storming back into the house, he leaves what’s left of his coffee in the sink and the newspaper forgotten on the counter, and hurries into the office. He rips off a long sheet of dot matrix printer paper. Biting off the cap of his pen, he scribbles on it in large block letters, all caps, FOR SALE.

Back in the driveway, he removes the chocks from behind the wheels of the trailer, and flips off the tarp. He wheels the trailer and the jetski to the end of the driveway, right up against the road.

He must look like a mad man, out there in his brown button-up pajamas and coffee-stained slippers. The neighbor’s mowing the lawn. The dog’s barking further away. Everything’s perfect in this perfect little neighborhood, this perfect little life. But he feels like he is going insane.

He slaps the for sale sign on the front of the jetski, and starts back for the house. The sooner that thing is out of his life... Maybe... Maybe things would go back to normal.

His heart pangs in a way he doesn’t understand. Heartache. So much heartache. Why?

Does he even want normal?

But if not that, then what? What is he missing?

He’s at his front door, hand on the doorknob, when someone politely coughs behind him. He pauses a moment, there’s no way someone is there... But when he glances over his shoulder - yeah. Someone’s behind him, only a few feet away.

Not just someone. The most gorgeous person he has ever seen, wearing a sleek black suit and a pair of sunglasses. Long dark hair is slicked back and pushed behind their ears.

He should probably feel self-conscious, standing there in his brown pajamas in front of this god of a person - probably a model - but he doesn’t. Strangely, he feels more at ease now than he has in weeks. His whole body relaxes like he finally exhaled a held breath.

But that doesn’t make sense. They’ve never met. He would remember.

He would never forget a face like that.

“Hello,” the person says, and the word tremors slightly.

“Hello.” It tremors when he says it too.

There’s no car on the road. No bicycle on the sidewalk. However this person got here, it’s like they dropped down from the sky.

The person clears their throat. “You’re selling the jetski?”

“You...” He blinks. He knew jetskis were popular - hell, they are the best - but he hadn’t expected an offer before he even got his pants on. “Yeah. You interested?”

“Yes, I...” They drop their head a moment, taking their time to think. When they lift their head again, their shoulders lift too, like they are preparing for a battle.

He supposes negotiations can be seen as a battle, but he can’t bring himself to match the person’s pose. He’s ready to give up the jetski for free at this point. Whatever gets it gone.

The person asks, “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it. It runs like a dream.”

“Then why get rid of it?”

His heart hurts, so he laughs through the pain. It’s silly, but he can’t help feel his sister was right. This person wouldn’t know either way, so he finds himself telling them, “I’m heartbroken.”

The person goes very still. Their mouth opens and they take in a shaky, noisy breath. When they say, “What?” the word is bone dry and crumbling.

“It’s something we did together... I think.” He’s making it up, but it feels right. So he keeps talking. “And now. Well. It kinda reminds me of... I’m pretty sure I forgot a lot of things, but I can’t forget that. There’s supposed to be someone else. And I can’t... I can’t...”

He’s not making any sense, but the person is hanging on every single word.

“Anyway,” he says. “I’ll let it go cheap. Too many memories... or... I don’t know, feelings?” He sighs. “Just make me an offer, okay? I have to get ready for work.”

He wants nothing more than to keep this beautiful person on his doorstep, but... well, life isn’t always about getting what you want. This person wants a jetski, he has one. A transaction will occur, and this person will move forward like he never existed.

He’ll be left behind again.

Again?

Now, he’s the one to stand a little straighter. “Do you ever get deja vu?”

“Deja vu?”

“You know, where you feel like you’ve lived an exact moment already, once before. I’ve been reading this book about mobius strips and...” There’s that pang again, in his chest. A subtle ache that is swelling. He wants to ignore it, like he always has, but he’s finding he can’t really anymore. “Don’t you think that’d be a cool name? Mobius. Mobius M. Mobius.” He laughs, and it hurts. It hurts.

The person doesn’t laugh. Instead, they take a small step back. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

His laughter dies quickly. It wasn’t real anyway. “You don’t want the jetski?”

“I do,” the person says with naked longing. “More than anything.”

“Then its yours.” He shrugs. “You know, it kinda feels like it was already yours? Like, maybe its just been waiting around for you to show up and claim it.”

The person shakes their head. “It’s better off without me. It finally has a chance to... to... live the way you - it deserves...”

“I mean, that’s a nice thought. But in practice... wouldn’t it be better for jetskis to decide for themselves the kind of lives they want? Whose to say that their life before was all that great? Because let me tell you, this perfect little normal life I’m living? Kinda sucks.” He doesn’t really understand what he’s saying, but the words still fall out of him, like ripping a scab off an old wound and all the blood starts running again.

The person takes another step back, but this time, he follows, taking a step forward. Somehow, it feels crucial that he not let this person leave him behind again.

There, another again. What is he not remembering?

“There’s something terribly wrong with all this,” he says. “I’m forgetting something important, but whatever it is - whoever - I don’t think I can be happy without them. Not really. Not in any way that matters.”

“Mobius...” the person says, soft, under their breath. Stronger, “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

And the dam breaks.

“I know exactly what I’m saying, Loki.” The name, that name. How could he forget that name?

The person - Loki - exhales again, watery this time.

“Maybe if we never met, this would be enough. Maybe it was once. But not anymore. Never again. Not since you. And not even your little mind hocus pocus could change that.”

Mobius takes another step forward. This time, Loki does not move back. They stay just as they are and let Mobius close the distance. Mobius lifts his hands to Loki’s face and slowly removes those sunglasses. Loki’s eyes have always been the most expressive - the easiest to read. No wonder they would try to hide them. Because now they shine with sorrow and regret and... love. So much love.

And that, Mobius knows, is exactly what he’s been looking for when he reaches out to the empty space beside him on the bed. When he sits in his kitchen and stares at the pulled-out chair across the table. When he rides his jetski and turns, ready to laugh with the missing person behind him.

“I’m not angry,” Mobius says, tossing the sunglasses aside. He takes one of Loki’s hands in his. Loki grips hard onto his fingers. “I understand why you did it. It’s kind of flattering really, to know you’d give up your own happiness to try to give me mine. But there was a very big problem with this latest Loki scheme.”

“What’s that?” Loki asks in a whisper.

Mobius gives them a smile. The first real one since they parted. “You’re unforgettable.”

Loki laughs once, a burst, like they’ve been holding something in and now its escaping. The hard lines of their face smooth out. And they look less like a frightened, broken shadow and more like themselves, god of mischief, with a small but growing smirk. “Of course. I suppose I should have considered that.”

“Big flaw. Ruined the whole thing, to be honest.”

Loki leans closer. “I hate to admit to fault, but I fear there was a second issue that I had not considered.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Your absolute stubbornness.”

“Stubborn? Me? You should look in the mirror, pal.”

Loki closes their eyes a moment. Mobius studies the planes of their perfect face, and wonders how, in all the infinite timelines, he ever forgot it.

“Loki,” Mobius says. “Do me a favor, though, huh? Don’t do this again. I... uh, well. It wasn’t the most fun for me.”

“Me, either.” Loki presses their forehead to Mobius’s. “I regretted every moment, but I... The TVA stole you from your life. I wanted to -”

“I know, I get it. I’m not mad. But communication is key to a relationship, yeah? So maybe next time you want to do a grand gesture of love for me, we should talk about it first?”

Loki leans back. They blink. But it’s not the love that trips them up, it’s, “Relationship?”

Mobius runs his hands along Loki’s arms, up to the shoulders and back down to the elbows. “Yeah. I mean, we’re partners, right?”

“Partners.” Loki doesn’t say the word with disgust, more... intrigue.

“Boyfriends?” Mobius tries.

“Boyfriends.” Loki frowns at that one.

“Lovers?”

Loki’s eyes are bright and full of wonder. How they could look at Mobius, someone so normal, like that... well. Loki makes Mobius feel like a god himself, no wonder he couldn’t go back to his old life.

“Lovers,” Loki says and kisses Mobius. Mobius smiles against their lips. Lovers, it is, then.

Kiss turns to kisses, and they linger. It’s right, so right that it further amplifies how wrong everything else was before. Mobius belongs here. Right here. With Loki. Forever, if possible.

When they break, they both laugh, and it’s light and true this time, for both of them.

“Hey, Loki,” Mobius says. “Want to buy a jetski?”

Loki pulls an annoyed face, but its all an act - Mobius sees right through it, and Loki’s not trying that hard to hide it. “I believe I’m the one who acquired that jetski for you. You have no right to sell it.”

“It was a gift,” Mobius says.

“It remains a gift. One I insist you keep.”

“Alright, alright,” Mobius laughs and Loki kisses him at the corner of his smile. “But only if you promise to keep me.”

“Oh, dear Mobius.” Loki brings their mouth to Mobius’s ear. “I hope you appreciated this display of selflessness, because I will not be repeating it.”

“Good.”

“I am a selfish god.”

“Uh, huh.”

Loki’s arms grip tightly around Mobius’s waist. “And from here to eternity, I will be keeping what’s mine.”

The last remaining knots in Mobius’s chest untangle. “And the jetski.”

“And the jetski,” Loki says and kisses him again.

#lokius #loki x mobius #post-canon #established relationship........ >.>#mobius pov ////#hey its another one of those loki enchants mobius to forget him and sends him back to his old life fics #angst with a happy ending #mcu ts ///////////#i wrote something else

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

If you’re still taking requests maybe Legend showing off his outfits from Triforce Heroes (if you consider that one of his games) or just the fierce deity outfit if that’s to much

Good grief! This one really took it away! I liked the prompt so much, and had so many ideas for it, that I think this might have to be a multi-parter (wasn't expecting that).

I touched on three outfits in this one, but I have six more I might do as well. For reference, I included the Kolkiri Clothes, Linebeck's Uniform and the Cozy Parka.

I also realized while writing this that this is the first time I've written from Wind's perspective, which is positively criminal!

I am still taking requests by the way! If you want to see something, shoot it at me!

(Fic below the cut)

It started so normal, Wind never thought it would get so insane.

They were in the Old Man’s Hyrule, too far from the ranch to make it by nightfall but close enough to still be in a relatively safe location. Time had called for them to set up camp and as they were close to a stream, Twilight had called for the additional order of baths.

Watching Twilight drag his protégé into the water was almost worth having to have his head scrubbed by Sky.

Most of them had taken the chance to cool off and mess around once they were clean, and while Warriors attempted to duck Time under the water (a mistake, they soon realized, when the man easily overpowered the captain, who ended up getting dunked instead) and Wild sat in a tree watching their backs (hanging up to dry, Twilight had joked), Wind found that the rest of them were content to swim idly in the water, with only the occasional splash from one or another of them. Usually, there would be more noise, but Twilight was teaching Hyrule to doggie paddle, and they needed calmer waters so as to not scare the Traveler.

He cast his eyes over their group. A red-faced Warriors was coughing and spluttering out insults at a smug looking Time (boy he needed his picto-box), Twilight was gently coaxing Hyrule to the other bank in a manner highly resemblant of a parent urging a baby to walk, Wild was keeping watch, and Sky was relaxing in the shallows.

Where were Four and Legend?

A glance upwards and a signed conversation with Wild later and Wind was making his way upstream a way, around a bend that blocked off most of the noise but that Wild could still see over if needed, to where Four and Legend sat together one the bank.

Or rather, Legend sat, Four was floating in the shallows with a curious expression as he watched the vet- cleaning clothes?

“We’re out here having a good time and you’re doing the laundry? Boring much.” He drawled, drawing the attention of the two heroes.

“I don’t like swimming around others.” Legend scrunched up his nose in disgust, it wiggled, almost cutely. “And my things needed a wash.”

He snorted, turning his questioning gaze to Four.

The smithy shrugged. “It’s quieter over here, and Wars will try and dunk me if he gets the chance.” A heavy sigh escaped the shortest hero. “He really needs to be taken down a notch some days.”

“Some days?” Legend snorted.

Wind just rolled his eyes. So, what if Wars had a bit of an ego and spent a lot of time messing with them? It was just the way the captain expressed himself, Wind would do the same if he could get away with it and had a few inches on the others.

A flash of color in the spring caught his attention, bright pink against the soft blue of the water, and he surged forwards. “What’s that?”

Legend’s hand hit his face as the vet reached out to push him back, effectively pushing the excited child under water, and for a brief moment, Wind could swear he saw a pink skirt drifting just before his face before it disappeared and he was popping up out of the water again with a splash.

“You have pink clothes?” He grinned at the bundle of fabric in the Vet’s hands.

“I have clothes in all colors.” Legend sniffed, batting another piece of fabric at him in a shooing motion.

“Doubt.” Four and Wind deadpanned. “Nobody has that much clothing.”

Legend’s face was drawn, eyes dark with that haunted look that Time sometimes got when looking at the moon. “I do.”

Wind and Four exchanged a look. “Why would you even need so much clothing?”

“Adventure number six.” Legend sighed, returning to his washing.

Another shared glance was exchanged and the two boys swam closer to the older teen. “And you used all of it?” Legend nodded. “All by yourself?”

The vet paused. “I had some...friends, with me.”

“You have friends?” Wind sat up again, who knew the Vet actually got along with people other than Ravio and Zelda?

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, Wind, that’s kinda mean.” Four murmured.

“I don’t mean you don’t have friends,” He huffed bangs from his eyes to look at Legend better, it did nothing, they still drifted into his view and cut off his view of the top of Legend’s hat. “I mean, we’ve never seen them so I didn’t realize you were on good terms with more people than Ravio.”

Legend shrugged. “You probably won’t ever meet them, I... became acquainted with them outside of Hyrule and they’ve never been seen leaving the land where we traveled together.”

“What were their names?” Four asked lazily, eyes trailing after leaves that floated off downstream towards where the others were.

Legend’s snort caught them off guard. “You don’t want to know.”

Now that was interesting, Legend never shied away from giving names to the people he had met in his travels, what was so different about these people? He’d had nothing against telling them Ravio’s name. “Why not?” Curiosity was tickling at his just like his hair was, and it was the only thing keeping him from ducking under again to relieve the itching of slowly-drying hair.

Legend cocked a brow at the two of them. “Their names are worse than ours.”

Now Wind really wanted to know! “What were they?”

Four echoed his question, eyes glinting in the light as he stared over at the vet, who was now beginning to pack away his things again. It took some nagging (something Wind had plenty of experience with) to finally get Legend to answer, but when he did, he didn’t disappoint.

“Red, Blue and Green. A set of nut cases if you ask me.” Legend drawled, not looking at them as he stuffed something glittery and gold in his bag. Four froze, eyes flashing four colors, one after another for a moment before he turned his sharp gaze on the vet.

“Did they call you Vio by any chance?”

Wind stared. “Why would they do that? He already has a name, he wouldn’t need to match, besides, Legend doesn’t even wear purple.”

“His eyes are purple.” Four pointed out, and Wind turned to very pointedly try and see what color Legend’s eyes actually were.

They were purple.

“No, they didn’t call me Vio,” Legend rolled his eyes, pushing Wind out of his face again. “They call me Link, same as any sane person does.”

“We’re sane.” Wind protested.

“Debatable.” The two older heroes deadpanned.

Wind pouted, but let it go, gaze drifting for a moment as he let silence fall over them. Four was staring at Legend in a suspicious manner, eyes blue again, but he didn’t say anything, and the vet didn’t seem keen on saying anything either, instead getting up and walking over to the clothes he had draped across one of the trees. He wasn’t kidding, it looked like a rainbow over there.

“So, if those things belonged to your friends, why do you have them?”

“Only one with a bottomless bag.” Came the clipped reply. “That and I’m the only one who’s likely to need them again.”

“Your friends don’t need clothes?” Four balked.

“No! Of course, they do!” Legend made a face, swatting a hand at Four. “Wild’s the only one who goes around naked, I’ll have you know, and if any of them had done the same they would have been shunned by the whole kingdom.” The vet huffed, voice dropping to a mutter. “What with the fashion laws and all.”

“So, if they already have clothes of their own, what did you need all for this for?” He gestured towards the various garments that Legend was still packing away.

“They’re all enchanted, or otherwise intended for special purposes.” The vet winced. “Hopefully I’ll never need most of them again, but there’s always the chance.”

“Will we ever get to see them?” He watched as Legend stuffed another garment into one of his bags many pockets.

“Hopefully never.” Legend spat.

But when did things ever go Legend’s way?

It was a hat first.

A battle in the forest ended with black blood spattered everywhere, but with Legend and Wild having provided support from the sidelines in the form of arrows flying across the battlefield, injuries were more scarce than normal.

Of course, that could be attributed to the fact that there had only been a few of the black-blooded monsters in the camp they had just destroyed.

As most of them had gathered their weapons and wiped away the blood, Wild had come leaping down from the treetops with Legend following after at a more sedate pace. Wind wondered if that was because of the Vet’s arthritis is because of the huge hat on his head.

“Nice accessories, do some shopping while we were down here fighting?” Wars snarked, huffing a laugh at the vet as Legend’s feet touched the earth again.

Indigo blue snapped at the captain as Legend adjusted the pointed cap. “No time for that when I have you all to keep an eye on.”

Twilight sniggered. “What’s with the hat, Ledge?”

“Yeah!” Wind bounded up to the older hero, eyes wide as he looked at the strange accessory. “Where did you get that?”

“Is that one of the things you got on your last adventure?” Four mused, sparking further excitement in the sailor, if it was, than maybe Legend would actually be willing to tell them more about it!

“Yeah, is it?”

No one addressed the confused stares of the taller heroes as their three shortest members conversed.

“Yeah,” Legend lifted the hat off and brushed at its brim in a clearly fond display; if he even attempted to say anything about hating his adventure again Wind was not going to believe him, not after that smile. “A Kolkiri hat, made to aid archers and help them shoot more arrows. I don’t usually use it, but it helps when you need to take out more than one enemy at once.”

“You could just learn to shoot better.” Wild chuckled, plucking at the hats brim only to have the garment whisked out of reach by a glaring veteran.

“I can shoot well; this just helps me see better because it blocks the freaking sun.”

“Kolkiri you say?” Time mused, stepping forwards to peer at the pointed green cap.

“Sure, you didn’t just steal it off of a witch?” Wars teased.

“No witch could replicate this sort of quality,” And if there wasn’t pride in his voice than Wind would eat his boots. “Not even the finest tailors in all of Hytopia could imitate it, and they’ve tried.” Legend spun the hat in his hands before popping it back on top of his head. “Don’t know the tailor, but what I wouldn’t give to learn their tricks. Kolkiri know what they’re doing, and they do it better than most Hylian craftsmen.”

Time was smirking, and Wind really wanted to know why. “You should see the tunics they can make.”

Legend returned the smirk. “Oh, I have, I own one.”

“As do I,” Their resident old man chuckles. “Although I doubt I could fit in it any longer.”

Wind giggles, trying to imagine Time in the clothes he’s seen on the spirits of the kolkiri, it’s hard, what with how big their leader is.

“Hat might fit you though.” And as the words ring through the air, Legend is already reaching up to pull the brim of his pointed hat over Time’s face. Their leader chuckles, brushing Legend off and adjusting the hat to sit more securely on his head.

Somehow, Time looks more comfortable in the hat than he does in his armor, and even though the two clash terribly, he doesn’t seem to mind, a light smile gracing his features as they set off again.

It’s a few days before Legend brings out another item from his collection of clothes, and when he does, it’s only after the others have drifted off to sleep. Wind would have been sleeping too, but you can only stay awake so long when your mind replays the horrors of the past, and Wind can only watch in silence for so long as giant ocean-monsters attempt to destroy those he loves the most. Tetra’s scream echoes in his own cracking voice as he startles awake.

The stars shine brightly overhead, brighter still as they blur from his tears. Despite what the others might say, or the confident way he tries to convey himself, Bellum frightens him, even now, and everything he had to deal with on that adventure... it weighs heavy on his mind.

A strangles sob escapes him as he sits up to bury his head in his knees, arms wrapped tight around his legs as he tries to shake of the after-effects of the dream.

That’s all it was, after all, just a dream.

Just like the Ocean King, like Lineback, like everything else in that world had been.

It’s just a dream.

“Hey,” Legend’s voice is soft and almost lost in his sobs and the crackling of the fire, but Wind is used to listening for even the softest of sounds in the night; be it due to Aryl having a night-terror –her own dreams aren’t free from their adventure- or someone sneaking around to make trouble. “Sailor, you all good?”

It’s clear he’s not, and he knows that, so Legend really has no business asking, but at the very least he isn’t being told to stop being a baby. “’m okay.” His own voice betrays him and Wind wants to sigh in irritation. Usually, he’d pout and groan at the way his voice cracks, but right now he doesn’t have the emotional or mental strength to do anything about it.

There’s shifting from across the camp, and even though his head is still pressed against his raised knees, he sees a flicker of golden pink in the firelight as Legend crouches down before him.

Thank Hylia the vet doesn’t sit back on his ankles, Wind doesn’t want to know if he’s not wearing shorts under that skirt of his.

“None of that now, what’s eating you?” It’s a weird term, especially coming from Legend, who’s usually so clipped and professional in his speech, and Wind can’t help but huff out a short laugh.

“Nothing,” His hand dashes across his eyes, wiping the tears away, only to have more of them prick at the corners. “Go back to watch, I’m fine.”

“And Twilight is a dog person.” Legend drawls. “Look, if you have an emotional moment or whatever, you’ll be tired as shit when we have to leave in the morning. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel keen on dealing with another Sky.” It’s rough and gruff, but in a way that reminds him of Lineback rather than make him upset.

“I’m fine, just...” He dwells on his next words for a moment. He’s not scared, not really. It’s just the aftershock of a too-real dream about another too-real dream. He’s not really sad either, even if the island is gone now, he’s just... “I’m drained.” He whispers, scrubbing his eyes. “I miss everything back at home but,” He pauses, wondering briefly if Legend could even understand what he’s trying to express. “I guess I miss the things that aren’t there too.”

“Like what?” He doesn’t look up, but he knows the exact expression on Legend’s face; brow raised and mouth pulled into a thoughtful frown.

“Places... people. It’s all just dreams but..” He fiddles with the end of his blanket. “I miss the warmth of them I guess, miss the sea and the islands, even the fake ones, they were so... comforting.” He chuckles, surprising himself with the bitterness that tinges his own voice. “Even if I did spend so much of that time trying not to get killed.”

“Warmth, huh?” Legend hums. There’s a brief pause, one Wind almost takes for Legend rolling his eyes and deciding to leave him to his thoughts, but then there’s a brief rustling and something warm and thick settles over his shoulders as Legend sits at his side. “It’s no pirate uniform, but it still smells like the sea, if that helps at all.”

Wind wants to tease Legend for the sentimentality and love in the action, but when he turns to look at the Vet, his gaze falls instead on the royal blue coat that has been draped around his shoulders.

Too-long sleeves fall to fold at his waist while the rest of the long coat trails and puddles around him, rich, warm fabric blocking out the night chill. It’s a lovely coat, but it’s painfully familiar, and Wind finds himself running his fingers over the stitching and inspecting every detail with a precision that he only ever shows to his swordsmanship and sailing.

His eyes don’t fool him either, the coat is an exact copy of Lineback’s own.

“Where... where did you get this?”

“Like it?” The vet chuckles softly. “Hytopian tailors. It’s a sea-coat, made to aid traveling sailor’s in searching for treasure. Don't ask me how it works though,” A ringed hand waves lazily overhead. “I could never make sense of it all. What matters is that it’s warm, not even the ocean can chill you in that thing, and trust me,” Buck teeth and small canines shouldn’t look so chilling, but Legend’s smile is just that. “It’s tried.”

Wind decides not to push it. There’s no way Legend could know about Lineback, not with the gaps of time and timelines between them. So, instead, he nestles down into the coat, one which bears the promised scent of the sea, with just a hint of smoke and rum to it, and lets his mind drift off again while Legend hums something under his breath.

The vet doesn’t realize he’s humming any less than he realizes Wind is slumping into him, but by the time he does recognize it, Wind is out cold, his head pressed against Legend’s shoulder, the coat still draped over him as he snores softly. Legend doesn’t push down the warmth in his chest as he smiles down at the golden curls, no one will see him anyway. Gnarled fingers decked out with countless rings card through sun-bleached curls as a lilting melody pierces the silence around them, no one will hear it anyway.

In the days to come, Legend allows Wind to don the heavy sea-coat from that night. Warriors makes a comment about poor coordination between fabrics, and while Legend doesn’t seem to disagree, both of the older heroes seem of the opinion that it's for the best he holds onto it, what with the cold and all.

The last switch landed them in the mountains, and while the Hyrule they are in has not yet been confirmed, everyone knows one thing for sure: it’s cold. Wind buries his face in the raised collar of the heavy sea-coat, which, despite being in Legend’s bag for so long and the vet refusing to smoke or sail, much less swig rum, the coat smells of all three, and Wind buries a smile at the thought that maybe Legend didn’t get it new like he’d let on.

It does a good job of keeping him warm though.

He wishes he could say the same for Four.

The poor smithy refuses to be carried, but as snow whips around them as they trek through the knee-high snow, the diminutive smith is left chattering and shivering in their wake.

It really shouldn’t be a surprise that Legend has something to help with that.

Yes, the vet still isn’t wearing pants, but he doesn’t seem too poorly off, no matter how badly the others shiver. He and Wild only share a look and scoff when Warriors asks through chattering teeth how the two of them aren’t freezing.

“You should see the mountains in my Hyrule.” Wild chuckles brightly.

“Done this before, cold is cold, you get used to it.” Legend grins, swinging his fire-rod.

“N-not all of us c-can s-st-stand the c-c-cold.” Four chatters grumpily, sounding startlingly close to the minish he’s shown Wind in the past. “Jer-jerks.”

The concern on the faces of the taller heroes is obvious, but with Twilight’s teeth chattering nearly madly (the rancher's nose is somehow frozen) and Time wrapped as tight as possible in one of Wild’s extra cloaks, it’s clear most of the others don’t have warm things to spare.

They were separated in landing in this world, and even when they had all been pulling themselves together again it had become clear that there was nothing of Wild’s that could even fit the smithy, and not even the blue scarf that trails over his shoulders seems to be doing much good against the freezing winds.

“Hang on a sec.” legend huffs, already turning to rustle through his bag. The coat he pulls out is ridiculously plushy, and in a soft shade of violet that makes Four chuckle past his chattering teeth. The chattering doesn’t last for much longer though, not when shoves the garment over Four’s head like Wind has done to his sister so many times with the sweaters Granny has knit them. The smithy’s blond hair is mused beyond recognition, chunky and flying every which way as he pushes his face out of the plush, but the healthy flush to his cheeks assures the rest of them that he won’t be freezing any time soon.

“I- Oh...” Whatever Four was about to say cuts off as he looks down at himself. The coat is long, but not too long. Where Wild’s shirts would drown the smithy, a coat made for Legend only brushes against the smithy’s ankles.

Legend smirks. “It prevents slipping too.”

“Why aren’t you wearing it then?” Hyrule questions, the Traveler’s cheeks are rosy in the cold, but borrowed clothes from Wild, while also too big, seem to be keeping him warmer.

Legend winces. “It’s a pain to get off.”

“And inconvenience is enough reason to freeze?”

“Do I look cold to you, captain?” Legend snarks, turning an expectant look on Warriors. “Because I certainly don’t feel it.”

“Stop rubbing it in.” The captain huffs, unfortunately too big to borrow from the others, and now highly irritable from the cold. His scarf is still on Four, and if what Legend says is right about the coat, Wars won’t be getting it back for a while, leaving the poor captain to shiver as he clings to another fire-rod.

Four seems comfy enough anyway.

#fluffics #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe legend #linked universe time #linked universe wind #linked universe four #hytopia #triforce heroes #references to the dopples #fic requests

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autismvampyre · 3 years

Text

Little Brother

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Summary: Peter Maximoff wakes up at the battle of Sokovia in another universe. Thankfully, he still has a family here.

Pairing: just some familial Maximoff fun

Warnings: guns, literal war, probably swearing idk i didnt check but i swear a lot, bad writing and thats it i think

A/N: I take no credit for this idea it was purely inspired by this post from @you-said-yes and they gave me permission to write it. I had a blast with this, I'm a sucker for the multiverse triplets. Oh and in this version I'm going with the story that Peter's Wanda is dead, cause thats just how i think of the story since shes never mentioned after DOFP.

Peter's POV

The first thing he remembered was running. He ran faster than he ever had before and he kept running for what felt like eternity until he woke up. In other circumstances, Peter would've brushed it off as just a bad dream, but that proved difficult considering he was laying on the ground covered in rubble. His head was pounding and he felt something warm and sticky near his eyebrow, pulsating from his forehead.

He tried to sit up and groaned, beginning to take in his surroundings. There were beaten up buildings lining the street in front of him, bricks laying scattered all around the ground. Peter had seen plenty of destruction like this; it came with the job of being in the X-Men. But this place was different. If not for the thin air and freezing cold, then for the fact that there were reminants of robots everywhere, some seemingly ripped in half. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it was just another dream.

"Wake up, Peter," he mumbled to himself

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of guns and screaming, alerting the young speedster. Without a second thought he got himself together and took off, trying to find the fight. He followed the sound of machine guns and picked up the pace when he felt the ground beneath him shake. It didn't take long until at the edge of the foreign city. He could barely believe his eyeswhrn he saw the fight. There was nothing weird about the fight per se, except for the fact that the city was flying.

Before the silver haired boy got the chance to question his sanity once again, a machine gun went off. He didn't fear the machines -- he could easily outrun them-- but there was a man holding a kid in the line of fire. They both looked utterly terrified and the man turned his back to the bullets, shielding the child with his body.

Peter went into super speed, and everything around him moved so slow, it looked like a still frame. The bullets were frozen in place and everything was deadly quiet, the sound being too slow to reach him. With the arrogance of a boy who'd outrun explosions, Peter casually walked up to the machine gun and poked the bullets out of the way, one by one. But not even halfway through his little charade, something moved in his peripheral. He tured to see a man, running to block the bullets with his body. His hair was so blonde it could be considered white, and his dark roots and facial hair revealed it was simply a dye job.

At the speed the silver haired speedster was going, everything should be practically still to him; yet this man was running. His steps were agonisingly slow, but still. Peter gawked as he realised what was happening. Another speedster. He had never met someone who shared his ability of super speed, and the excitement that bubbled in his veins was indescribable. Finally, there would be someone who understood him.

Peter turned to the bullets once again and removed them with ease. He didn't care to put on a show anymore, too excited to meet his equal.

Pietro's POV

He ran faster than he ever had before, faster than he ever could've imagined he could.

But he knew it wasn't fast enough.

Pietro Maximoff could outrun a lot of things, but a machine gun was not one of them. All he could hope was that his body would save Clint and the child in his arms. He was prepared to die, he had accepted it. At least he would die doing the right thing, though his heart broke at the thought of leaving Wanda.

His body tensed in anticipation for the bullets, but nothing came. The bullets were gone, and in their place was a young boy with goggles and silver hair. Pietro's confusion must've been painfully obvious cause the boy chuckled.

"You know, for a speedster, you sure are slow," he said, a grin spreading across his face. Pietro's confusion only grew at this statement.

"W-what?" His eyebrows furrowed at the silver haired fellow. "What happened- the bullets?"

"Oh the bullets? Yeah, I moved them. And I ripped apart the gun too while I was at it. Couldn't let you get filled with bullet holes," the boy said nonchalantly, as if it was the most normal thing on earth. He stretched his hand out to the older male. Pietro took it, at a loss for words.

"I'm Peter," the boy introduced. "Peter Maximoff." At those words, Pietro froze.

Maximoff.

"Pietro Maximoff," was all he could get out. Peters eyebrows furrowed at the name.

"How do you know my real name? No one calls me Pietro." Before he could explain however, Clint spoke up.

"Hey, you two. We gotta get to the helicarrier, Pietro you go get Wanda." At that, he took the child and brought him to the rest of them civilians. The two speedster were left staring at each other. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Pietro spoke up.

"Well, I have to go get my sister. You can go with Barton over there, then we can talk later, okay?" Peter only nodded, too deep in his own thoughts. That was all the confirmation he needed, so Pietro took off to get Wanda.

Wanda's POV

"Who is he?" She questioned her twin. A boy with silver hair had appeared mid battle and saved Pietro's life by stopped bullets. That wasn't the strangest thing about him however.

"I don't know," Pietro shrugged. "He says he's Peter Maximoff." Wanda gawked at him.

"Maximoff?" She asked in disbelief and her brother nodded. Her eyes turned to the mysterious Maximoff stood in a corner twiddling his thumbs so fast they looked like blur.

Wanda walked over to him and tapped his shoulder lightly, taking him out of his thoughts. He looked up with wide brown eyes. I know him from somewhere, she thought.

"Hi, I'm Wanda. You saved my brother today. I owe you everything, I don't know what I'd do if.." She didn't have to finish her sentence, he simply nodded.

"I'm happy to help, I lost my sister. I don't want anyone to go through that shit." His voice was low and broke slightly at the mention of his sister. Wanda's heart ached for him, and she wrapped her arms around the boy, surprising them both. He returned the hug as she mumbled how sorry she was for his loss.

Once they both let go, the boy started rubbing his neck anxiously. "I've been meaning to ask this but... where are we?" She eyed him to see if he was serious.

"We're at a safe place, outside Sokovia?"

"Sokovia?"

"Yes, Sokovia. You know, the city the flying city?" Wanda explained but the silver haired boy simply stared in utter confusion.

"I-I've never heard of Sokovia. Also, why was the city flying? How did I get here and who are you guys?" Peter's voice rose in panic, and he bit his lip as he awaited a response.

"I don't know how do answer you, but I'm Wanda Maximoff, the man you saved is my twin brother Pietro Maximoff. We're with the Avengers, who were fighting the evil robot Ultron who tried to wipe out humanity."

The boys eyes filled with tears at the mention of her name. And she realised from where she knew him.

Peter's POV

"Wanda?" He looked at the woman in front of him. She resembled his own twin, his Wanda, but she looked different. Something was off, but he couldn't quite place it. His wanda didn't have an accent, her hair was lighter; she was just different. Despite that, he pulled her into a tight embrace. Even if she wasn't the Wanda he knew, she was the closest to family he had right now.

"Wanda, is this real?" He asked, realizing the absurdity of the situation.

"Yes, it is. It's real, Peter." He squeezed her, not wanting to let go. Not when he finally got his sister back. Except it wasn't his sister, he reminded himself.

"I don't know whether to be sad or happy," he said, finally letting go. "Cause I'm finally seeing my sister again, but at the same time you not my sister. You're not my Wanda." He put his hands on his face. Wake up, Peter. To his surprise she didn't find him completely insane.

"You're not like my Pietro either, you're younger and..."-she paused, trying to find the words-"... just different. I can't explain it." He nodded in agreement. Something was off.

A blur of silver entered his vision and Pietro was beside them.

"What's going on?" He questioned upon seeing his siblings tear stained daces. Wanda smiled at him before looking to Peter again.

"I think we just got a new little brother."

the ending was a lil rushed sorry, hope it was still decent jdhdgdg

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin.

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had.

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard.

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian.

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain.

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting.

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know.

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying.

“Konechno.” Of course.

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again.

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death.

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman.

My father is an arms-dealer.

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy.

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t.

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty.

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people.

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly.

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer.

“Starik,” I tease. Old man.

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York.

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise.

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase.

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital.

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait.

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details.

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé.

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored.

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him.

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option.

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room.

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature.

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more.

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest.

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name.

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now.

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected.

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello.

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield.

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello.

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction.

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave.

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck.

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys.

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official.

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual.

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it.

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"....So I Married A Monster" *Part 9*

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

[I imagine this is him being a 'dad', lol]

Sorry this took so long ya'll. I love you.

I did my best!

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

“Ma’am, you really need to calm down--” A nurse pulled you back into the bed while you continued to scream and cry.

“No, I need to know where they’re taking that man!” You screamed as you wriggled from her grasp.

“Most likely to surgery, ma’am,” The doctor explained. “He did just get a GSW to the chest--”

“Oh God,” You wanted to vomit. “But the-- the man who just left, he--” You suddenly had an epiphany of where Billy was headed.

“You have to get officers to 5237 Lakeview Shore Drive,” You said in a panicked voice. “He’s going to grab my children,”

“Aren’t they his children as well, ma’am?” The nurse gave you a look.

“He has NO right to them!” You gave her an exasperated look. “And seriously? You think a man who just murdered two--” No, you couldn’t think that way. Rafael was still alive, he had to be.

“Shot, two men,” You corrected yourself. “Deserves children?!”

“No, ma’am,” She shook her head. “Sorry, ma’am. He was just so kind and charming the last time he was--”

“Jesus Christ, are you really that starved for affection that a psychopath flirting with you is the highlight of your career, idiot?” You sneered at the girl who couldn’t have been more than 19. Just a candy striper-- of course Billy would go for her.

“Alright, Addie-- out,” The doctor pointed towards the door. “Make yourself useful and call 911,”

“But there’s already--”

“OUT,” The doctor barked once more. Addie rolled her eyes and stomped out of the room.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” He apologized, patting your shoulder. “You need to stay calm, we’ve stopped your bleeding and stitched you up, but if you become hysterical you could rip them out,”

“I just watched my ex-husband shoot the love of my life and then storm out of here to go kidnap my children, and you expect me not to get hysterical?”

“At least try, ma’am--” He pleaded with you.

“If you call me ma’am one more time I swear to God--” You growled.

“I’m sorry, Miss Y/N,” He corrected himself.

“Doctor you’ve just sewn up my literal anus, I think we’re on a first name basis,” You rolled your eyes.

“Right,” He chuckled nervously. “Listen if you promise to at least attempt to stay calm, I will go check on your boyfriend, alright?”

“Fine,” You sighed.

“Alright then,” The doctor gestured to two male nurses. sending them to find out information on Rafael.

---------

Rafael was indeed being rushed into an operating room, his chest bleeding profusely. It had missed his aorta, but just barely. One wrong movement by a scalpel and he’d die right on that table.

“...He’s lost a lot of blood already, doctor,” One nurse warned.

“Put him on bypass, I need more time to cauterize this wound!” The doctor barked as he sweat through his surgical scrubs.

“Yes sir,” The nurse nodded to someone who brought forward a machine and began hooking it up to Rafael.

“Alright people, we don’t have a lot of time,” He looked around the room.

"Pray for a miracle,"

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

At Your House

Lewis rushed into your house, trying to think of what to do. He’d need to get the girls and run-- it wouldn’t be easy. He’d need a good excuse. God, what would be a good excuse?

Lewis first went to Maggie’s room, gently waking her up.

“Mags? Maggie, wake up baby,” He cooed.

“What’s wrong dad?” Maggie asked while still half asleep.

“We-- we need to go,” He told her.

“Right now?” She turned her head to the side like a confused puppy.

“Yes, right now baby,” He began to grab her things and shoving them into her backpack. “Mommy’s in trouble,”

“In trouble?!” Maggie suddenly shot straight up in her bed.

“It’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Lewis tried to keep her calm. “I just don’t want that bad man to get ahold of you and Kylie,”

“He has her?!” Maggie suddenly had panic in her voice.

“Maggie calm down, okay sweetie?” Lewis put his hands on her face. “We can’t let Kylie know, okay? So we’re going to tell her…”

“We’re going to the beach!” Maggie suddenly finished his thought. She was a great liar, quick on her feet. Just a chip off the ol’ Lewis block.

“Great idea baby!” He nodded while she pulled a jacket over her pj’s.

“And-- And we can go to the beach house, the one we used to go to?” She made that adorable little puppy dog face he couldn’t resist. He didn’t exactly “own” that beach house, but whatever his baby wanted, she got.

“Yes, yes of course Mags. Whatever you want sweetie,” He kissed the top of her head before they went into Kylie’s room.

“Kylie, wake up,” Maggie shook her awake while Billy began packing her a bag.

“Where are we going?” Kylie asked sleepily.

“We’re going to the beach baby,” Billy told her as he finished with her suitcase.

“In the middle of the night?” Kylie rubbed her eyes while Maggie helped her put some clothes on.

“Well, we want to be there as fast as we can!” Maggie continued to spin her web of lies, just like her daddy.

“Where’s mommy?” Kylie rubbed her eyes while Billy slipped her shoes on and they headed to the car.

“She’s uh…” He looked at Maggie.

“She’s still a little sick, so she’s going to meet us there later,” Maggie told her while giving her dad a thumbs up. He could cry in pride right now if he wasn’t worried about the cops finding them before he could escape.

“Okay,” Kylie just went along with the story, no questions asked.

Billy went to your key ring and grabbed your keys to your SUV, shooing the girls out into the car. He did a quick look around to make sure he had everything. Well, he had everything that mattered. His girls.

He glared around the room for a moment, pissed off that you had taken away your chances at happiness in this place. It would have been a great life; just him, you and the girls. No cops, no dumbass ADA, just you and him.

Well, soon enough it would be. He was sure Barba was dying right now, if not already dead. Then once he was out of the picture, you’d have no choice but to come back to him. He had the girls. He had your car. He had your happiness.

And soon, he would have you.

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

At The Hospital

The nurses had been forced to knock you out with some morphine when you began to get hysterical over not knowing what was going on with Rafael and your girls. So here you were, waking up groggy and disoriented in a regular hospital room. Soon enough you were alert and back on the anxiety train. You pushed on the CALL NURSE button rapidly until an older woman in green scrubs came rushing in.

“Y’Know that button is for actual emergencies,” She crossed her arms once she noticed you were fine.

“This IS an emergency,” You crossed your arms right back at her. “I asked to hear about my family, and all you people did was knock me out. That has to break some sort of law,”

“Really and what law would that be?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I...don’t know, but I’m sure my boyfriend could find one,” You huffed.

“Highly unlikely ma’am,” She shook her head.

“Why?” Your eyes went wide. “Why wouldn’t he? Is it because he’s dead? Brain dead? Paralyzed and unable to speak?!”

“No honey,” She rolled her eyes at your dramatics. “It’s just an insane notion,”

“...Whatever,” You muttered while she checked your IV’s and stats. “So are you going to tell me how he is? Or are you just here to shoot me up with more morphine?”

“Well, that depends,” She said while inputting your information in her iPad. “Can you keep calm, make sure you don’t rupture any of your stitches?”

“....Not with that tone I can’t,” You didn’t like it one bit. “But I think I deserve to know what’s being done about my children at the very least,”

“Well…” The nurse looked at the door nervously. “See, sweetie here’s the thing--” She walked over and made sure the door was fully closed.

“Oh God,” Your voice trembled.

“It seems your ex-husband has...taken them” She grimaced.

“Oh god,” You repeated. “Oh GOD,” You were going to be sick.

The heart monitor and machines began to beep as your blood pressure skyrocketed, bells and whistles went off as you started to have a panic attack. The nurse instantly started turning all of them off, not wanting to alert anyone of what she had done by telling you.

“Okay okay but LOOK, honey--” She grabbed you by your shoulders, forcing you to take a breath and look at her.

“....If I bring you someone, will you promise to calm down?” She asked.

You weren’t entirely sure you could make that promise, but if it was Rafael she was going to bring you, you’d say anything she wanted to hear.

“Yes,” You nodded vigorously. The nurse nodded back and walked to the side of your bed that had a curtain separating you and another patient. When she pulled it back, you saw Rafael laying in a hospital bed hooked up to wires and tubes, a breathing apparatus on his face. She pushed the bed over so that it was touching yours, almost like it was one big king bed for the two of you.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, barely able to hold it together. “Can I--?”

“Be gentle,” She warned you. You nodded softly before very cautiously stroking the side of his face, whispering to him.

“Baby, I’m here…” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m here and I’m okay, so you have to be okay, okay?”

“How bad is it?” You looked up to the nurse.

“Well he made it through surgery,” She gestured to his still living body. “That’s always a good sign,”

“Give it to me straight...Marla,” You read her name tag.

“It was touch and go for a while, I won’t lie to you,” She sighed. “But...he’s been stable long enough I convinced them to let me bring him here to you,”

“....Thank you,” You gave her a small smile.

“If it were my Jonas in that bed, I’d never want him out of my sight either,” She smiled at you.

“Nurse Nightingale,” A doctor popped his head in. “Your husband is on line 1,”

“Speak of the devil,” She chuckled, heading towards the door. “I’ll be back to check on you later, I’ll-- see what I can find out about your children,”

“God…” You shook your head and muttered under your breath again.

“I’m sure they’re fine honey. They’re with their daddy at least, right?”

“True,” You nodded with another small relieved smile. If there was one thing you could bet money on, it was that Billy would take care of the girls. He was using them as collateral for sure, but he wouldn’t hurt them.

Would he?

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

Meanwhile

Hours and hours had passed. Billy had made it to the Hamptons with the girls. Luckily for him the people he was ‘borrowing’ the house from still hadn’t made an appearance. Given that it was the beginning of fall and the season was over, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have to kill anyone to keep them staying there a secret.

The girls were in the living room watching Moana while Billy scrolled through his phone at the latest news blurbs and trending things on Twitter. Obviously “William Lewis” was out in the open again-- shit. People would be looking for him now. But nobody knew where they were-- they’d never find them. Right? He couldn’t go back to prison, not after the hell he went through to get out. He would never go back again, no matter what. Nothing was going to stand in his way, or slow him down. He intently watched Maggie and Kylie-- they were laughing and eating cereal. Maggie could hold her own for sure, but Kylie was just a tot. Could she handle being shuffled around the state? The country?

He seriously began to ponder if the girls were slowing him down.

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fanfiction #william lewis #william lewis x you #william lewis x reader #william lewis angst #william lewis fanfiction #rafael barba angst #william lewis imagine #so i married a monster

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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

Text

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 17

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 17: Can You Feel The Love Tonight~

“Pass some of that Okra.”

“Here you go.”

“Why is this so spicy?!”

“Well it is the spicy plate, if you can’t handle the heat then you should have gotten the other plate.”

“No, just this one specifically is damn spicy!”

“Red made some of them.”

“It’s not my fault that your taste isn’t refined enough.”

“Come over here and say that!”

“No fighting at the table,” Macaque said as he watched Bohai try to stand up from his seat, while Red was smirking at him.

“Won’t be much of a fight,” the demon prince mocked.

“You little-” his mouth was then stuffed with green beans.

“Just eat some veggies and calm yourself,” Sheng cracked a grin as they put some green beans in their mouth.

The jellyfish demon moodily just chewed on his food in silence.

“Children, all of them,” Mei said as she set down the bowl of Okra Ahmed passed her.

“So have you heard about the rumors about Yakimoto,” Yanyu leaned into MK.

“Yakimoto? The head of the Neurology department?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about her?”

“Well recently I have heard from a friend of mine, who heard from the janitor, who had heard from a physician of that department, that he had heard that she had been having little outings with her lovely secretary of hers,” she whispered loudly.

“Wait, doesn't she have a husband?” His eyes widened.

“Yes she does, but she’s always complaining about the whole ordeal being set up as an arranged marriage by both of their parents-”

“That’s still a thing?”

“Apparently, the two see each other as siblings.”

“Really?!”

“Totally, in fact, there have been whispers that her husband also has a special man as well.”

“Shut up, tell me more,” he stuffed the Tofu in his mouth as Yanyu began to talk all about the man at the flower shop a couple of blocks down from Pigsy noodles.

“Is it always this loud,” Wukong smiled as he watched the table filled with little chaos.

“Like you wouldn’t believe it,” he said as he ate. “Just be glad this isn’t a holiday dinner then it really would be chaotic. Especially with everyone else that would join in,” he remembered last new year when they finally dragged Pigsy to close down the shop for one night to enjoy the holiday. It was a mad scene of chaos and energy as all of them were raving like mad lunatics even before the food came out, Ahmed and Sandy were barely able to stop Sheng, Daiyu, Tang, and Mei from setting off fireworks right next to some containers of peanut oil. And that was after MK and Mei had already demolished the kitchen with Yanyu siblings looking for the moon cakes.

“Everyone else?” He questioned as he noticed the slight smile on his friend's face.

“Oh don’t worry, stick around long enough and you’ll meet them face to face rather than watching them creepily from the distance” he shook himself out of memories.

The Monkey Sage paused, then he smiled widely, “I can’t wait then.”

“Okay, now can we learn how the hell you met Shun!” Mei exclaimed as everyone settled down in the living room. “Cause, I’m surprised you didn’t smell the crazy off of him at first sight.”

“It’s always the quiet ones that get you,” Daiyu muttered. “He seemed alright, but he was just hiding his batshit craziness.

“Right, I mean that just goes to show doc always had terrible taste in partners,” Yanyu nodded.

“Partners” Monkey King emphasized, “as in more than one.”

“Oh yeah, he has quite the number of people after his plump ass,” Minsheng smirked as they tried to smack Mac on the ass when he passed by him, but he winced when a black tail wrapped around his hand and flipped him over.

“No,” the simian deadpanned and was about to sit down next to Ahmed when Wukong pulled him over and sat him down beside him.

“Seems like you're quite popular then,” he joked and wrapped his arm around him.

“Not really popularity wise, but more of him simply having bad taste,” Sheng teased.

“I mean you're not wrong,” he shrugged as he sank into Wukong’s side.

“But how?!” Mei whined once more.

“Tell us!” MK soon joined her as he laid on Red lap.

“I’m quite interested to hear this as well,” the prince asked as well.

“Pleasseee,” Wukong batted his eyes

“Fine, fine, I’ll bite,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s not that interesting how we met, in fact, it was pretty normal.”

“What was it?”

“Amid a territory brawl over a section of land out in the Azurite Forest.”

“…okay I think we have two very different definitions

of normal,” Mei deadpanned.

“Probably, anyways I was sitting high in the tree watching these assholes argue-”

“I told you that past the Vivion Treeline was our territory and yet you dare go past that line and defy us!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you send your minions down and scavenge in our territory first!”

“You have no proof of any trespassing that happened!”

“Are you saying my own lies to my face?! HA! Now that’s a laugh to even think about, no I trust them long before I will even think about breathing in your direction!”

“I suppose it’s best you lay down and suffocate cause there is no way in hell that my boys lied to me!”

“Now ain’t that a lie!”

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Sheesh, of course I would happen to stumble upon this right when I have to get some Fuchsia berries,” Macaque grumbled as he watched the argument from above. “Damn idiots.”

“I happen to agree,” Mac barely flinched when a calm voice called out and saw from the tree to the right of him was a gray lemur with a black and white striped tail. “I too have some important items that I need to procure, but these heathens happen to be in my way.”

“Only found in this forest,” the simian said.

“Unfortunately yes the Inada spiritual root is only grown here, if it was elsewhere I would have already turned back and away from this nonsense,” he scrunched his nose in distaste.

“I feel ya on that, the berries that I need happen to be for an elixir for the spiritual development of the 8th degree. One of my clients needs it after her body is close to breaking down due to her organs inability to support her fire breath,” he sighed as he looked down at the argument once more and noted that it would soon turn into an all out brawl.

“You're talking about the Firaga Restoration Elixir,” the lemur had a glint in his eyes. “Not many physicians know of that and even less have the ability to make it.”

“Made it a few times before…how about we help each other out?” He tapped his chin as an idea came to him.

“Go on.”

“Our items are pretty much in the same area, if we can sneak around and past the tree line then it would be homestretch from then on cause I am quickly picking up that most of the demons from each tribe are here.”

“Hmm, sounds adequate though do you believe to be capable enough to pass them undetected,” he turned to look at the monkey only to blink when he saw he wasn’t there anymore.

“Now where did he-”

“Is this good enough for you,” the lemur’s tail quickly shot towards the voice, but it was stopped by a hand. “Sorry, did I scare ya,” Macaque grinned as he held onto the furry tail.

The lemur blinked a few times before a smile grew, “It would appear that you have.”

“Well let’s get moving and the name is Macaque,” he let go of the tail, but the tail didn’t let go as it instead kept almost a loose grip around Mac's hand.

“I’m Shun,” the lemur purred as he stepped forward until their bodies were pressed together and he leaned down until they were nose to nose. “It will be a pleasure working with you.” And like he wasn’t even there, he quickly stepped back and began to move above the treetops of where the fight had commenced.

Macaque stood still for a brief moment before a fierce blush took over his face and he silently followed Shun. If both tree climbers happened to take glances at one another throughout the trip, no one would affirm anything.

“Like I said, horrible taste in partners,” Yanyu stated once more.

“Yeah, like you let him all up in your space and didn’t say a word, clearly bad,” Mei nodded.

“Like seriously, who would just go up and invade someone's personal bubble like that, totally rude,” MK joined in.

“You should have kicked his ass when he did that Mango, you have done it before,” Wukong said as he nonchalantly dragged him to his lap and rested his chin on Mac’s shoulder. “Don’t let anyone near you unless you want to.”

Everyone, barring Macaque and Wukong were either subtly or straight out eyeing Wukong, who was still cuddled up next to the black simian. They can practically taste the hypocrisy going on here.

“Okay I get it,” he put his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t need to gang up on me like that.”

“So what happened after that?” MK asked.

“Well the rest is history, he began to hang around my place a lot more and next thing I knew we were going on dates with each other,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Daiyu perked up, “did he ever ask you out?”

“Of cou-…” he stopped mid sentence as he thought it over then he furrowed his brow, “actually, now that I think about it, no. He never did. We were just eating out one day at a restaurant and proclaimed it to be a date.”

“Pops/Doc/Mango/Dude really,” Mei, Yanyu, Wukong, and Minsheng all groaned as the rabbit demon continued, “you really should have known something was up after that.”

“I really didn’t,” he rubbed the back of his head as he remembered he was taken aback by his statement but went with it as he did have a small crush on him back then.

“Just be glad you weren’t around to see Hui,” Ahmed said, receiving a wounded look from Macaque.

“Kitty, I thought you were on my side!”

“I am…just not when it comes to your choice of partners.”

“Even Mufasa here knows that she was batshit insane,” Bohai deadpanned, “nice and hilarious, but holy shit was she insane.”

“She wasn’t that-”

“Did you forget that she was a raging alcoholic scorpion that had the desire to go up to not only to the Celestial Realm and raid their alcohol supply, but to go down under all the way to Yama realm and claim the title of all the ten kings and live in luxury,” Minsheng bluntly stated.

“Just not Yama crown, because she stated that she didn’t want to do all of that work, not because it was suicidal to try to fight him,” Daiyu continued. She loves to fight as much as her siblings, but even she knew better than to pick a fight with one of the big boys on top, or in this case, down below.

“And I’m not even gonna mention that when she was in her drunken rage, she had the tendency to poison others with her tails when they stood opposed or even just breathed near her,” Bohai finished.

“…” Macaque said nothing as he just leaned closer to the other monkey, who happily complied with his actions as he further tightened his arm around him and silently rubbed his thumb on his shoulder.

“So much bad taste in partners, so much,” the bluenette put her head in her hands.

“I’m starting to see your point,” the pigtailed adult agreed as she glanced at the scene with a curious look.

“At least we don’t have to worry about that anymore, what I’m a bit curious about is how all of you guys met MK here,” Wukong tried to subtly move on from the conversation of Macaque’s romantic relationship. If he had to hear about yet another demon he dated, he might actually lose his mind.

“Oh let me!” MK eagerly began, “well I remember that I was sleeping when I heard Daiyu yell out.”

“Because of course it was her,” the bluenette said.

“And I walk into the room and-” as MK enthusiastically told the story, Wukong had quietly taken out the red rubber band holding his hair in a ponytail and gazed at the silky black fur cascaded down his back. And before he knew it, his fingers were entangled in Mac’s fluffy fur as the other simian sighed at the soft touches.

“Been a long time since you did this,” Mac purred as he relaxed into the grooming.

“Well it’s about time we pick it back up, besides no one is better at grooming than a monkey,” he purred, but he paused as he quietly had thought and delicately asked, “speaking of monkeys, do you want to visit the ones back at Flower Fruit?”

Mac's eyes widened as he almost instantly turned his head, but was stopped by hands, “Are you serious?”

“I mean they have missed you a whole lot,” he tried to nonchalantly say, “especially since they smelt you on the kid and was practically begging me to bring your ass over.”

“They are still demanding little shits huh,” he gave a small huff.

“The one thing that hasn’t changed.”

“…yeah I would like that,” he smiled up at him.

“Cool, cool,” he couldn’t stop his tail from excitedly wagging behind him, but he instead tried to stall it by looking at the fluffy fur once more as another purr came through. It’s not his fault he couldn’t stop it from emerging from his long time crush response and his fascination with his long fur.

“You really do have such a long fur, why’d you grow it out anyways, not that I’m complaining.”

“I dunno, I just forgot to cut it short and when I finally noticed I decided to just keep it,” he shrugged.

“Well I’m glad you did, it looks amazing on you,” Wukong said as he looked down to meet Macaque’s eyes and promptly realizing what he said, he quickly averted his gaze and nervously laughed, “Or you know, it looks good.”

“Ah, umm thanks,” the doctor said as he felt the faint blush on his cheeks.

The sage monkey was about to say something else when he noticed that a few eyes were on him and he quickly went back to his grooming session. While making completely sure that his eyes didn’t even go towards anywhere in their direction.

The traffic light trio saw the scene and they all shared a glance at one another, but opted to say nothing as the story continued and the two monkeys, in everyone's eyes, began to cuddle up together.

“Where is he?” Red huffed as he sat on the opposite side of Mei at one of the arcade booths. “Usually he’s the first one here.”

“I know he was helping Pigsy out with a large Party order, but that should have been done by now,” Mei shrugged as she took another sip of her drink.

“Well he should hurry it up else I will-”

“What’s up, party dudes!” An energetic voice cried out that instantly made Mei spit out her drink.

“Oh hell no!” She stood up as she grabbed her dagger and was inwardly cursing herself about leaving her sword at home, “I’m not about to deal with you a second time! Not today Satan!”

“Should I be concerned?” Red raised an eyebrow as he looked at MK, who was for some reason wearing a pink visor, blue headphones and an atrocious cheetah print outfit. “Cause this whole look right here is very concerning.”

“No need to worry hot stuff,” MK said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Not here to do any lasting damage, unless you're into that,” he winked.

“W-w-what?!” A small burst of flame erupted from his head.

“I don’t trust that for a second,” the Dragon successor hissed as she still held her dagger up.

“I swearsies doll.”

“Wha-no stay focused,” she faltered but shook it off, “That is rich coming from the disembodied attachment of my friend who can just poof in and out without consequences of your actions.”

“Disembodied?” Red, still under the clone arm, confusedly said.

“Touché,” he pointed a finger, “but for real, I’m just here to deliver a message from the big boss himself.”

“Talk,” she demanded as she slightly lowered her weapon at that.

“BB will be late due to a crazy ass bitch on the block doin her usual bitch in and be all complainin about her food order being all wrong and demanding that they hand it over for free.”

“Oh,” Mei's eyebrow raised. “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

“No it did not my lovely Empress, cause next thing they knew the bitch was calling up the rest of her posse upon BB and Big Bad Boss and now she is yellin her ass about about some scam they be tryin to pull on them all.”

“I’m starting to see where this is head,” she sheathed her blade when she said that, though she did have a light blush of confusion over the nickname.

“Your thoughts be right as the next thing anyone knows, everyone is brawling with each other so hard that even some of the people on the street just up and joined in.”

“So MK got mixed up in that, but why didn’t he just text us that,” the Bull successor asked as he finally recognized that this was a clone and not the real MK.

“Cause Triple B ordered Double B to not get the food ruined under any circumstances my sweet King so now BB is hauling ass all around the town as the Karen Gang chase after his ass,” Portay MK smirked as he saw the prince blush.

“Karen Gang,” she snorted at the nickname, “Does he need any help, cause I will be more than happy to bust a few heads for him.”

“I as well.”

“Aww ain’t the both of you just a bundle of sweetness, makes me want to give you both a big ol kiss,” he flirted once more.

“Just show us!” At this point both teenagers had either a small or large flush on their faces.

“Alright Alright, I’ll show ya,” he said as he quickly made his way out of the arcade and to the streets with them both following. “But I won’t stop~ Someone got to help Double B get the ball rollin and I guess it will have to be me. This will be so much fun,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing my Sugar hearts!” He smiled at their groans of embarrassment.

“Is he always like this?!”

“I met him once and that was when he had me tied up during a never ending party, which I still can’t fully remember due to all the sugar and caffeine I inhaled.”

“The WHAT?!”

“Oh yeah, that was a ride.”

“Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here, huh,” Macaque mused as he and MK climbed up the mountain.

“Right, you lived here before,” MK said as they climbed up the steps. “What was it like back then?”

“Honestly, at first it looks and feels the same, every time that I breathe I can still smell the crisp pine air and the heavy mineral undertones that I still smell on Monkey King,” he took a deep breath. “This place really brings back some memories.”

“Good ones?” The doctor to be said with a bit of hope as they finally reached the top.

“Yeah, good ones,” he stopped as his ears pricked up at an incoming sound. “That screech,” he whispered.

“Huh?” MK looked to his Dad, only to be bombarded with the most ear piercing noise.

SCREEEEEECCCCCCHHHHHH

Then, almost out of nowhere, a hoard of monkeys all popped out and practically flew towards the black simian.

“What the-!” MK was startled by the sudden attack and was about to step forward to his Dad only to pause at the sight of multiple monkeys, all of them screeching in delight, clinging onto him as the demon joyfully nuzzled them back.

“I missed you guys too,” he purred as he felt many cuddles underneath his chin, on his back, upon his arms, even on top of his head. He really missed these idiots.

“Awwww,” the adult cooed at the adorable sight.

“Man, that was faster than I was expecting,” the student turned and saw his mentor standing right behind him. “One moment they were playing and the next thing I know they all began to run off. I swear their smell has gotten better over these years.”

“So that’s why they could smell Dad on me that time.”

“You got it,” he finger gunned him as he walked up to the pile of monkeys. “So it seems this is one-”

“HISSSSSSS!” All the monkeys clinging onto Macaque hissed at their idiotic king.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” he deadpanned as he plopped himself onto the pile, with MK following suit. “But I promise we won’t be so stupid again.”

“Ooo oo,” a female monkey crossed her arms as she sat on the monkey doctor's head.

“King honor,” he raised his hand.

“Ooo,” she nodded and gave him a flick on the nose before snuggling back on top of the head.

“She really hasn't changed one bit,” Mac snorted at her antics.

“Nope, but she is still as bossy as ever,” he smiled and gave her a scratch on her head.

“Especially when she forced me to drink water,” MK piped up, “she literally forced it down my throat after one of the sessions. I didn’t think you could drown via water bottle, but when there's a monkey there's a way.”

“Yeah, sounds like her,” both monkeys said.

The sun was beginning to set as MK and the rest of the tribe were all playing out in the mountains in an extreme game of hide and seek. Extreme as in they all will literally yeet themself off the tallest rock just so they won’t get found, the first couple of times MK played this he had to stop his heart from trying to run out of his chest, but he slowly found himself enjoying throwing himself off like a rabid maniac. Is there something wrong with all of them? Maybe, but no one can deny that it is really fun.

“I swear, their IQ always seems to decrease when they play these games,” Mac muttered as he watched his child vault himself off of a rock just so the seeker wouldn’t catch him.

“Didn’t you think of this?” Wukong hummed as he smirked when he saw his student delicately land on one of the boulders below.

“Yep and I still don’t know if I regret it.”

“I mean you did worse,” he coyly smirked.

“You don’t want to talk about dumbass ideas with me Mr. ‘Let’s just ambush the trailing cart of a tired ass deity that would happily shank up on our sleep.’” He snarked back.

“Says the one who thought it would be a good idea to toss me in the water, forgetting that my stone ass can’t swim!” He shot back, they were playing around and Macaque had the jump of him and tossed him in the river. The black simian paused at what he just did and immediately panicked and dived down after him.

“You should really think about losing a few pounds, you were heavy,” he mocked and then got promptly tackled by the other monkey.

“I’ll show you heavy, how’d you like that mushroom brain,” he teased as he began to wrestle him.

“Says you rock for brains,” he shot back as he tried to get the upper hand. This went on for a few minutes as both monkeys playfully began to wrestle each other on the ground. It ended when Wukong managed to pin him down while holding his hands above his head and wrapping his tail firmly around the others.

“HA! I win!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed after he tried to get out after a few attempts. “Don’t get such a big head about it.”

“Aww, but you know it only does good things to my ego~,” he teased as he leaned down.

“No it doesn’t, simply it’s truly terrible.”

“It does!”

“Does not!”

“Does!”

“Does not!

“Does!”

“Does not!”

“Does!”

“Does not! Damnit!” He cursed at the trickery.

“How do you fall for it every single time,” he openly laughed.

Wukong was about to refute when he saw just how close to each other they were and sucked in a breath. He can feel his chest against his own with each breath of air, he can see the faintest shimmer of violet deep within his golden eyes, he can feel his nose touching the soft button nose of his partner.

Macaque obviously heard the intake of breath, no super hearing necessary, and was about to ask when he too stopped short. It could be from the fact that their noses were so close to each other that he could feel his warm breath, the way he could feel the muscle very clearly against his own fur, or even how his golden eyes seem to be extra bright today that he can’t. Stop. Looking.

Neither pair noticed a pair of human eyes locking onto them with a curious expression on his face as he slowly backed up.

Either way, all of those reasons are very much valid in both of their minds as a familiar silence filled the air and it felt oh so good as they just almost blend together as one. This wasn’t the usual safe cuddles that both were adjusted to, no this was something long in the making, that this was something that was more than the friend standpoint that they anchored themselves down on and refuse to step off. This was something even more than love, but the word itself is the only thing that fits what they feel for the other, and they instinctively knew that there is something more between them, something devastatingly eternal.

There can be more if they just make that step off the cliff and into the unknown air.

But not today, no not today.

Instead, Macaque put his foot back down to that safe cliff and latched on tightly as cleared his throat. “You want to get off me anytime, I kinda want to feel my bones sometime,” he managed to say. He can’t take that step, he knows he’s a coward when it comes to admitting that he actually loves Wukong, but they just became friends once more after their stupid separation and he refuses to do anything that jeopardizes it.

“Right, my bad,” he said with a fake smile plastered on as he got off him and sat beside him. He can see the air and he can feel his feet wanting to make that leap into the foggy air and see how far the two can go, but he will push down that impulse. He wants this so badly, for centuries (no matter how hard he tries to deny it) he wants to admit that he loves Macaque, but he will keep his mouth shut. His impulsiveness has already done enough damage as it is, no need to add the emotional turmoil on top of all the other shit he did to his friend.

The two of them sat in silence once more as they sat side by side to each other, totally ignoring the small moment between.

“So…what are you doing for the Lunar New Year?” Wukong asked in an effort to get rid of the silence.

“Well this year, we’re gonna spend it in the city with the others this time around. Everyone brings some food, usually, I bring the moon cakes as I have the extra hands and you can never have too many.” Ever since he had met Yanyu, who had dragged him to his first Lunar year with her family in the city, it had become somewhat of a tradition to go to the city every two years and spend time together. “What are you doing?”

“Oh you know, just gonna chill on the mountain with good food and watch the fireworks,” he nonchalantly said.

“Just by yourself,” he questioningly asked. If there was one of the many things he knew about Wukong, it was that he hated being alone on any occasion. He knew it stemmed from his own weird beginnings and his unawareness of the societal norms at the start, but it all went downhill after he was trapped in the mountain with only the bitch ass spirits keeping guard, he could only sneak in so many times before one of the guards noticed something amiss, unfortunately. (Though he quite happily stopped by when Wukong was finally free and he had quite the playtime with them, he still can’t help but grin at the sound of their screams. It was truly music to his ears.)

“Yeah,” he shrugged. It wasn’t anything new, ever since his friends have…gone, he couldn’t quite bring himself to spend the holiday with anyone other than the tribe from time to time. It just doesn’t feel right anymore…it doesn’t feel like he has the right anymore.

“Yeah, no. Your ass is coming with me to the festival,” Mac deadpanned.

“What?!” He turned his head so hard that he could almost hear his neck snap.

“You. Are. Spending. The. Festival. With. Us.” He slowly emphasized each word as if he couldn’t understand it. “Got it.”

“But-but-”

“We’re not talking about your ass here, but you are coming.”

“I don’t want to intrude, it will probably be really weird,” he tried to rebuttal.

“The group has almost twenty people and then those people will sometimes bring their friends along, the more the merrier.”

“What about how I look, cause no offense, but I don’t want to be mowed down in a frenzy to get an autograph or a picture or something!”

“We both know you have a human disguise, hell I sometimes use my own from time to time.”

“But-”

“Wukong,” he grabbed his shoulders. “You are going to come to the Lunar Festival with us.”

The monkey opened his mouth once more, but sighed and sagged his shoulder. “When have you become so demanding.”

“I learned that from you,” he smirked.

“Pfft, nahh you have always been a demanding shit even before me,” he chuckled as he laid his head on Mac's shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll join you guys.”

“Great, but if it does get too much just come grab me and we can bail to one of the rooftops,” he shifted and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

He smiled into his shoulder, “I wouldn’t mind that buttt I wouldn’t mind trying one of the moon cakes, especially if you make some with peaches in them.”

The doctor fondly rolled his eyes, “I’ll make some peach candy mooncakes for you dumbass.”

“Yes!”

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #macaque #six eared macaque #monkey king #lmk mei #PlumTeaAU

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

all the difference in the world

2.7k || ao3

Carlos and his partner Mya respond to the hostage situation call. --- A 2x05 coda (a.k.a if the writers won’t give Carlos scenes, I will.)

This was mostly written out of spite. Mostly beta’d by @officereyes, but any errors in the part I added after are on me and me alone.

---------

“I’m just saying, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the roller derby.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea it would be your thing,” Carlos shot back defensively.

His partner turned to look at him for the briefest of moments with an entirely unimpressed expression, “It’s badass women on roller skates, Reyes. What exactly about that sounds like ‘not my thing’?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to invite you next time, Esquilin,” he promised, “as long as you don’t mind hanging out with TK’s crew.”

“I think the badass women on roller skates can balance out the company of firefighters,” she quipped, shooting Carlos a grin, “probably.”

He rolled his eyes again, but his retort was interrupted when their radio sounded from the dashboard, “Be advised, all units: Code 3 at 235 Heyward St, unit 3F. Hostage situation, suspect is armed and dangerous.”

Carlos shot Mya a look and she nodded, flipping on the lights and sirens as she took the next left, bringing them closer to the emergency in progress.

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, responding. ETA 8 minutes,” he announced into the radio before replacing it on the dashboard, a grim set to his mouth as he stared out the window at the houses they sped by.

“I hate domestic calls,” Mya eventually said into the silence and Carlos nodded grimly. They had both seen calls like this end badly, and he knew they were both desperately hoping to never have to see that again. “Where did they say she was?”

“Third floor.” He glanced at his partner to see her biting her lip as she considered, “Why?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how we can possibly get up there without tipping him off. Dispatch said he was armed, we don’t want him spooked. That’s not going to end well for anyone, especially not her.”

Carlos nodded, trying to focus on the problem rather than the possible disastrous outcomes. He and Mya had responded to a similar call almost two years ago now and that one had not ended happily. It was one of his experiences on the force that had affected him most and one he still thought about from time to time, especially on bad days. But it was also an experience that didn’t help them now. If they wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again he needed to focus on the now.

Which was all well and good, but he didn’t know they were supposed to get a victim out of a third-floor apartment before they breached without anyone getting caught in a crossfire. They didn’t have the time, resources, or training to scale the building to approach that way. The only way in was the stairs and the door.

He looked over at Mya who met his gaze with an equally frustrated expression. Clearly, she had not come up with any brilliant ideas either. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. It’s not that he thought he and Mya were incapable of coming up with creative solutions. But after spending so much time about the 126 he had a new standard for “creative,” and honestly he could use some of that insanity he witnessed on a regular basis right now.

“We just need a way to get her out,” Mya said eventually as they drew closer to their destination, “once she is safe we can handle the guy. I just don’t want to risk her getting caught in a possible crossfire.”

Carlos nodded and opened his mouth to ask his partner if she had any brilliant ideas to make that happen when he froze, a half-formed thought popping into his head. Without saying a word to Mya he reached for the radio again, switching it on to call dispatch: “Dispatch, are there any available fire units in the area of the Code 3?”

“The 226 is in the vicinity and available.”

Carlos glanced over at Mya, who had pulled her eyes off the road long enough to give him a baffled look. He smiled at her before he spoke into the radio again, “Dispatch, can they respond to the address in question and deploy the rescue cushion?”

He saw the dawning realization on his partner’s face as he waited. She beamed at him even as the voice of the dispatch supervisor sounded over the radio, “Affirmative, 363-H-20. The 226 is en route and will have the rescue cushion deployed in time for your ETA.”

“10-4 dispatch, we’re about 4 minutes out now.”

He replaced the radio and turned to look at his partner, who shot him a knowing grin, “Only someone who has spent a little too much time around firefighters could come up with an idea as crazy as that.”

He scoffed at her, “Crazy enough that it might just work, you mean.”

She shook her head, still grinning, and Carlos sighed and leaned back in his seat, grin fading. “I hope it does work,” he admitted more somberly. “I don’t want this to be a repeat of…”

“There’s no point in thinking like that,” Mya interrupted sharply, “that was a long time ago. And there’s no saying this is going to turn out the same way. Not if we have any say in it. We’re already in better shape than we were then. We’re not going to make the same mistakes.”

Carlos nodded tightly and they continued their ride in silence. He knew Mya was right and that they had prepared in every possible way. They had done all they could, but there were still so many variables. There always were. Working with people in crisis was never an exact science and there was always a chance that nothing went according to plan.

They arrived at the scene and Carlos was out of the vehicle before Mya had even brought it to a complete stop, rushing over to the team unfurling the rescue cushion. The captain looked up as Carlos approached, “We’re just about ready to give the go-ahead,” he called, “we’re all set on our end!”

Carlos nodded gratefully and turned on his heel, meeting Mya’s eyes and jerking his head towards the building. She followed without question, waving for the other officers who had just arrived to follow them. They headed up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible and Carlos did his best to avoid the creeping feeling of dread. He knew they had done everything they could, but that didn’t stop the fear that it might somehow still end in tragedy.

They had just approached the last flight of stairs when the scream ripped through the air. They froze as one, all waiting to hear the outcome. Carlos was nearly toppled by the relief of hearing the voices of the firefighters drifting up, assuring her that she was safe now. He could feel Mya’s hand on his arm and glanced over his shoulder to give her a quick smile. The victim was safe. From here, it was all simple.

He gave a nod to the other officers gathered behind him and they resumed their journey upwards, entering the hallway and barreling through the door. The man spun to face them from the railing, a look of shock covering his features. Carlos held his gaze as he ordered him to put his hands up, and he saw the moment he made a decision. Dispatch had mentioned that this was his third strike; he knew there was no happy ending in this for him.

He lunged for the gun in the same moment that Carlos thrust himself fully into the room, grabbing him before he could achieve his goal, stopping his hands mere millimeters from the gun. He could feel the collective sigh of relief from his fellow officers, as well as his partner’s gaze on the back of his neck. He ignored it, for the moment, as he wrestled the man’s arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs on him as he read him his rights. He stood then, pulling the suspect up with him as Mya stepped further into the room. She glanced over at the two officers behind them before addressing the pair: “We’ll take this loser down and get him to the station, can you two do a quick sweep and make sure all’s good here?”

They nodded and Mya gave them a quick thanks before taking the suspect from Carlos and guiding him towards the stairs. Carlos gave his own thanks to the other two officers and quickly followed. He could tell his partner had something on her mind, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything about it until they had the suspect safely secured in the back of their squad car. They descended the stairs in silence before eventually exiting the building back into the parking lot where the 226 was in the process of packing up the rescue cushion and the victim was getting checked out by the paramedics.

Upon seeing his ex their cuffed suspect made to lunge in her direction but Carlos stepped between them, blocking his line of sight and staring down at him coldly, “Don’t even think about it.”

He deflated and Mya scoffed as she pulled him in the direction of the squad car, opening the door and guiding him inside without a word. Once the door was closed behind him she turned to face Carlos, eyebrows raised and an unimpressed look on her face, “You wanna talk about what happened up there?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we got the guy.”

“Yes, we did. After you threw yourself in between him and his gun and our guns too, I might add.”

“Mya…” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him.

“I’m not trying to scold you, Carlos, especially because I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. I’m just asking you to be a little bit more careful, okay? We take enough risks as it is, you really don’t need to go out of your way to create more. I kind of like you as a partner so I would appreciate it if you could manage to not get yourself shot if you don’t mind.”

“Aw, you do care.”

“I will deny that in a court of law,” she countered without missing a beat.

He grinned at her and she sighed before shaking her head and walking back around to the driver’s side. “Just remember I’m not going to be the one to tell your boyfriend you got yourself shot,” she called over her shoulder, “so maybe avoid that if at all possible.”

He chuckled, but her words also ignited a hint of anxiety in his chest. He had followed his instincts and he didn’t regret it, but now that the adrenaline was gone and he had the advantage of hindsight he could see how badly that could have gone. But he also knew that dwelling on it would accomplish nothing. He had spent a career trusting his instincts and he knew that was the best way to approach this. He knew that trusting himself was the best chance he had.

That didn’t lessen the risks and the fact that he had so much more to lose now than he ever had before.

As he opened the passenger door he glanced across the scene to see the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance, talking to another officer who was taking her statement. Her expression of relief was evident even from this distance, and Carlos smiled. This reality was better than any of the anxieties running through his head and he would focus on that. Today had been a win. They didn’t always get those, Carlos knew that all too well. They had to take the successes they could get, and savor those. Focusing on what-ifs never helped anybody.

Today they had won and the would-be victim had her life back. Today they had managed to get the ex before the worst had happened and that made all the difference in the world.

--------

Carlos looked up as his front door swung open, a smile spreading across his face when he saw his boyfriend and Paul crossing the threshold. TK met his eyes and matched his smile as he crossed the room towards him, “Hey, babe.”

Carlos met him at the edge of the counter, pulling him into a kiss that lingered. When they finally pulled apart, he grinned at TK, “Hey yourself.” He looked over TK’s shoulder to Paul, “Hi Paul.”

“What, no kiss for me Reyes?”

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as TK chuckled, setting the grocery bags he had brought on the counter to start unloading them. Carlos grabbed some of the groceries from him, stealing another quick kiss in the process before he glanced between the two firefighters, “No Mateo and Marjan tonight?”

“They’ll be here,” Paul explained, “they’re just handling a situation right now.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “That sounds like a story.”

“It is,” TK confirmed as he put the last of the groceries into the fridge, closing it behind him, “and we’ll tell you as soon as you tell me what you might know about the 226 having to deploy a rescue cushion under a third-floor balcony at the request of APD.”

Carlos smiled sheepishly, “You heard about that, huh?”

“Austin’s a small town, Carlos,” TK reminded him with a sly grin, “and the fire department is even smaller. There’s not much I don’t hear about.”

Carlos looked past TK to Paul who raised an eyebrow, settling onto the couch to watch them, “We’ll tell you ours after you tell us yours.”

Carlos made a face at him before turning back to meet TK’s expectant gaze, “It was nothing major. There was a hostage situation in a third-floor apartment and we just needed to make sure that she was safely out of the line of fire before we went to take down the guy.”

TK moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around Carlos as he peered up into his eyes, “It sounds pretty major to me. Your idea probably saved her life, Carlos. She’s safe because of you.”

Carlos shrugged self-consciously, “I wouldn’t say that. Grace did most of the work, figuring it all out and keeping her on the line.”

TK shook his head and removed one of his hands from Carlos’s waist to turn his face so their gazes met, “Grace is brilliant and certainly deserves a lot of credit, but you had a hand in it too babe, don’t sell yourself short.”

Carlos studied TK’s eyes. They were sincere and full of love; so much it nearly overwhelmed him. His boyfriend meant every word he had said, and he was not about to let Carlos get away with arguing. The amount of faith TK had in him staggered him sometimes. He let himself smile and gave TK a nod. At his nod TK smiled wider, leaning in for another kiss before stepping away.

Paul chuckled from the couch, “I’ve gotta hand it to you Carlos, that was pretty crafty. It definitely worked but it was also a little crazy. Almost like something a certain someone else I know might have tried.”

Both Carlos and Paul’s gazes turned to TK, who looked at them indignantly, “What?” he demanded, but Paul just laughed.

“I think he might be rubbing off on you,” he informed Carlos with a raised eyebrow.

Carlos huffed a laugh in return but reached out an arm to wind around TK’s shoulders and pull him closer, placing a kiss on the inside of his neck. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but who’s to say that’s a bad thing?”

Paul rolled his eyes and TK smiled smugly, twisting in Carlos’s grasp to face him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. When he pulled away his expression grew more serious as he studied Carlos’s expression intently.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, “I know how you feel about domestic calls.”

Carlos pulled him closer again, placing a light kiss on the top of his head, “I’m okay,” he assured him with a certainty that almost surprised him, “really.”

TK grinned at him and Carlos smiled back, looking up and meeting Paul’s gaze as well and giving him a reassuring nod. Of course he was fine; he had everything he could possibly ever need right here in his arms. He was fine because despite it all today had been a good day, but he also because knew that even if it hadn’t been, he had a second family now and they would catch him should he fall.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tarlos #tarlos fic #911ls season 2 #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #usermaximus #userac #userbones #tuserpaige

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belit0 · 3 years

Text

Commission for @GlitterBomba!

Part 2 of this!! I don't feel it's as angsty as it should be, but for some reason, my creativity wanted it that way? It's been a long time since I've last written, and this was definitely a challenge... First part was produced way too long ago, so it was also challenging to connect with what I felt when I wrote it! But here it is, and I hope you like it, GlitterBomba. Thanks for trusting me!

My Ko-fi page~ Buy me a coffee if anyone wants part 3 ❤（っ＾▿＾）

It took you days to awaken from your deep sleep, days which became weeks, and weeks transformed into months. There was no hope for your life among the healers, but the tenacity and insistence of those elders who saved you forced them to continue providing methods and energy, herbs, talismans to keep you breathing.

Impossible to explain how that mortal blow did not steal your last breath, not when the perpetrator was the greatest tyrant in the current world, the monster everyone learned to fear and flee from. In the small place where you are kept hidden, rumor has it the treacherous one repented as soon as his hand affected your body, causing you not to succumb immediately.

It wasn’t until after he vanished, shrouded in lightning and hatred, when one of Ashura’s subordinates came upon the scene of your sad fate. A pool of blood acting as a bed over a pale body, devoid of any warmth and life. Everyone was quick to write you off for dead after such an event, and only when one of the village elders took your pulse did he find your incredible attempt to resist despite all odds.

Keeping you along with the new leader and his people would not be a good idea. Not when you barely escaped with your life from the beast. In case he came back and besieged his younger brother, it would be better if he didn’t find you there. That man proved to have an unquenchable thirst for revenge.

Tempting fate once is more than enough.

That led a group of elderly men, those who defended your slight pulse when everyone thought you were dead, to ask Ashura’s permission before disappearing and taking you to a safe place, making use of some of the village healers to ensure your health. 8 men of different ages vanish with you, swearing on their lives to do everything possible for you to open your eyes again.

Winters turned into warm seasons, and autumn leaves were waning. Two whole years quickly go by before your consciousness returns. The world is different. You understand through your guardians that life passed with you as a ghostly presence, a bedridden legend they fought all this time to preserve.

No one mentions what happened to you, though. No one names him.

To everyone’s surprise, you don’t really ask about the village; you don’t ask about your birthplace and your home. You don’t ask... about him.

Your healers discover you memory was damaged after exhaustive examinations beyond your comprehension. Theories why this happened are various in your little home; some argue the loss of blood hurt your brain, others believe the trauma of that betrayal forced you to block it all out, and there are those who think maybe you ignored the past on purpose.

Still, there is an unspoken rule forbidding the mention of what happened, of the village, of those two brothers. After experiencing hell, what would be the benefit of forcibly bringing you back to that horrible past? In this remote place, you have the chance to start from scratch, and your rescuers believe it is the least you deserve.

Little by little, you gradually learn everything all over again. Your own name, your age, information about those around you. You ask with animosity about everything you don’t understand, and the only thing there is reluctance to answer is when you want to know about who you were before... this.

Healers get the problem off their shoulders, rushing you to ask such questions to the older people. They shoo you out of their humble hut with nervousness and red faces, panic in their eyes.

Seniors sigh as they stare into nothingness, sadness and nostalgia, painting their countenances with something you cannot grasp. Some even drop a couple of tears to the rhythm of a depressing whisper, “oh poor child...”

The scene makes you feel so guilty you end up consoling them, assuring it’ s not a big deal and you don’t need to be told. That your life in this small place with them is all you need to be happy, past or no past.

Regardless, it is the scar monstrously painting your stomach which makes you uneasy. While tracing the edges of that sensitive skin with your fingertips, you feel its reason for existence is on the tip of your tongue. As if reminders of what happened to you are lingering there, buried in your head, but creeping closer to your memory every time you look at your navel.

What happened? What terrible thing could have left such an enormous mark on your skin, but not in your head?

It’s frustrating.

Eventually, curiosity to explore beyond your own narrow world peaks. It’s quite natural, considering four older men and four medicine buffs rarely make for an interesting group of company. Older men drink tea most of the day, when they’re not napping in the sun, of course. The rest read rigorously and debate among themselves about their newly gained knowledge.

Getting permission is a complicated task. They are terribly afraid of your departure, scared of your fate, frightened of what dangers you might encounter.

But how to keep you there forever, when you have seen the vivid movement the closest town has?

Perhaps it was your rescuers’ mistake for allowing you to go exploring within the boundaries they considered safe, yet you inevitably discovered such a place, so close and yet so far away, so full of people and... life. Persons of all ages walking from one side to the other, food you never saw before displayed in various stalls, children playing with each other, unaware of the surrounding universe. Everything looks completely natural, as if folks are used to this kind of lifestyle since long ago, and you wonder if you ever lived in a similar environment.

Just what hides in your past?

After insistence and great pleas against the overprotection imparted on you, they understand it is simply hopeless to make you give up your idea unless they expose all those shocking events, unless they explain from what kind of danger it is necessary for you to hide, from whom it is imperative you escape.

No one knew anymore about that demon after his disappearance the same day, and it is uncertain where he is. Whether he is hiding or far from your current home, it is unknown to anyone, and it would invoke bad luck if your guardians expected you to meet him face to face once you get away from them.

Preparation of weeks and many directions, you finally depart from your unnoticed hideout in the world, leaving behind anxious seniors and worried healers.

It was agreed you could explore for a couple of months, but your eventual return is a binding closure on the deal you reluctantly struck. Each new destination brings with it new discoveries, tastes, experiences. You always find charitable souls willing to help when you are short of food, water or shelter, people who offer to give directions when you get disoriented, people who share stories with you on lonely, nostalgic nights.

With each step you take in the outside world, less you understand what your guardians are afraid of. Everyone is well meaning, and no one seeks to take advantage of your innocence. It is incomprehensible why this was denied to you for so long, and every time you think of your precious little home, an emptiness grows in your heart.

Weeks slowly pass, and having experienced so much in such a short time, you find the need to recount it to those you consider your family. As initially agreed, it may be time to return, to prove the world is not as terrible as they feared.

A few miles from homeland, just as you feel you are walking the grounds of your family again, you stop at a stream to get a drink of water, determined not to slow down until you reach your destination. It is too much of a thrill to witness those 8 insane people bickering and arguing. You absentmindedly smile as you rinse your face.

In your distraction, you cannot hear footsteps approaching at your back. It’s not like you would have detected them if you were paying attention either, for the person stalking you is deliberately careful, calculating.

Turning, your face affects directly into a solid mass of muscle, sending you tumbling down the riverbank again. Any woman would have assumed the worst when connecting glances with a man who invades her personal space unannounced, but from your mouth comes a concerned “Are you okay?”

The man, who is watching you as if a ghost were sitting next to you in the water and you were unaware of it, bleeds. Profusely, indeed. Both of his hands are deeply cut, distinct wounds on his palms dripping thickly to the ground.

There is no answer to your question, and the man’s countenance is difficult to decipher. His eyes glow a red which fades too quickly to analyze, his complexion is completely pale and unhealthy, his hair points in all directions, forming a long brown tangle which you deduce has not been combed for some time. For moments, it is as if there are words trying to pierce his lips, but the stupor of the individual continues.

“Your hands... we really should take care of them, shouldn’t we? Aiya, let this humble one help you heal.”

There is no reaction as you stand up and take him by the arm, guiding him to a large rock away from the water and helping him to sit up. His gaze is still completely fixed on your face, searching for something you’ re oblivious to. His mouth opens and closes rapidly, agitated breaths accompanied by sounds resembling syllables.

“Look at this mess alone... sir, you should be cautious walking along the bed of these waters. They are treacherous, hm?”

Ripping off one of your sleeves, previously dampened when you fell into the water, you use the cloth to clean his wounds. There’s not much you can do here, out in the open and in these conditions, but judging by the man’s appearance, he was probably recently attacked. When you mention your little home a few miles away, the man doesn’t refuse or accept.

Still, when you head back to the road, you find the fellow following you from behind, head down and staring at the ground. In his hands he tightly clenches the cloth of your sleeve, and blood stains the fabric completely at this point. You talk about the healers in your place, and how they can help him get better, but no matter how much you try, the man never responds. You ponder whether, perhaps, the situation he experienced before he ran into you may have been intense, and you attribute his perturbation to that.

After walking without pause all afternoon, your silent companion always keeping your own pace, your destination appears in front of you. From afar, you can see the elders sitting on the engawa of their cottage, sharing tea and quietly waiting for dusk. All is silent, and your announcement of arrival is the only thing disturbing the atmosphere.

Your arms wave vigorously to catch the attention of those you regard as family, a splendorous smile planted on your face, walking at an increased speed to catch up with them. An extended curtsey bow is given before them, and only after raising your head you dare to give them all a group hug, false formality forgotten as much as your guest.

The man slowly approaches this scene and analyzes the faces of those present as the embrace takes place. Had you not been turning your back on him, you may have noticed the change in his countenance, coldness creeping over his features from one moment to the next. None of the elders noticed his noiseless presence, not even having sensed it to begin with, and it is not until one of them finishes smiling and opens his eyes to come face to face with their worst fear.

Suddenly the hug is interrupted when this old man lets out a shriek, trying to back away and losing his balance. You follow his line of sight while turning, and find that innocent-looking stranger again, disoriented. There are screams all around you. Seniors are horrified and collapse on the floor next to each other, completely surrendered to the gaze of the demon fixed on them.

“Don’t behave like that! It would appear it wasn’t you guys who taught me manners... I’m so sorry, sir, they’re not used to dealing with travelers, let alone wounded ones... if you’d be so kind as to follow me?”

Throwing a withering glance at the group of elders, you direct your guest to the house the healers occupy. True, your little family is not used to encountering men in the state this very one is in, but you never expected such an exaggeration. A bit of unkempt hair and blood, pale skin, and they’re all screaming on the floor?

The reaction of the healers is not much different, and after reprimanding them for behaving so shamefully, you get them to treat the man’s hands. Leaving them alone so as not to disturb the setting, you make your way to the third and final cottage, your own. Since the other houses occupy four people each, it would be problematic to ask them to accommodate your own guest, and you take your time assembling an extra bed, improvising with blankets.

Nighttime is delightfully quiet, and as the door opens without warning, you greet the individual with a smile. Elders have taken the trouble to bring food for both you and him, announcing neither they nor the healers were in the mood to share dinner together.

The man’s hands are bandaged, his palms completely covered, and his thumbs trapped in the wrappings. He looks uncomfortable, and it shows in his inability to do anything on his own. His chopsticks are impossible to hold as he kneels on the floor and tries to eat, and after many urgings from you, he nods silently and almost imperceptibly, allowing you to help him.

“You see... you’re here, eating my food, under my roof, safe and comfortable... and I still don’t know your name...”

Teasing is imminent in your voice, hoping to relax him, if only a little. As he takes another bite and chews, his eyes are fixed on the table, like trying to hide from your presence.

After analyzing the end of your day alongside this presence, you assessed this man must be terribly shy, perhaps someone properly introverted. Still, observing his features, you get a strange familiarity, a feeling making you let your guard down and relax in front of him. A secret knocking at the door of your mind, demanding to burst in front of you but being invisible at the same time.

“... Uchiha...”

Without expecting an answer anymore, after several minutes, his voice surprises you. It sounds like that of someone who rarely uses it, raspy and rusty, as if it had been forgotten long ago, and not even the man himself remembers its ringing.

“Um?”

“Lord Uchiha...”

His name, you realize. Formal, a title.

Lord Uchiha continues in the same position, just like his words had been an illusion. It is impossible to keep giving him food, his attitude surly and refusing, and you wonder if he plans to spend the entire night in the same position if you allow him to.

Demandingly, you get him up and offer him your bed for the night.

He tries to take the spot you set up on the floor, and displays physical strength far beyond what you thought he had. There are firm muscles hiding under his stained white tunic, and they flex slightly every time he tries to change the course you both walk. He is probably holding back, you realize, for the way his forearm tenses. The stubbornness of this individual… as if he were someone unaccustomed to taking orders, leading rather than listening. Either way, he ends up tucked inside your room, buried under sheets and quilts so he doesn’t get cold.

You find your own resting place after closing the door and leaving your guest. There is not much room inside your small home, and yet, the greatest comforts are offered to those who really need them.

That night, a fearsome nightmare assaults your dreams. A pitch-black claw pierces your stomach from both sides, long nails tearing through skin and tissue like cloth. Blood pools at your feet, solidifying and making escape impossible. You feel your lips move in a choked scream, and a single word escapes your throat along with another red waterfall.

“... Indra...”

#Indra #otsutsuki indra #indra otsutsuki #otsutsuki clan #naruto #Naruto Shippuden #indra x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader

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whitehotharlots · 3 years

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The point is control

Whenever we think or talk about censorship, we usually conceptualize it as certain types of speech being somehow disallowed: maybe (rarely) it's made formally illegal by the government, maybe it's banned in certain venues, maybe the FCC will fine you if you broadcast it, maybe your boss will fire you if she learns of it, maybe your friends will stop talking to you if they see what you've written, etc. etc.

This understanding engenders a lot of mostly worthless discussion precisely because it's so broad. Pedants--usually arguing in favor of banning a certain work or idea--will often argue that speech protections only apply to direct, government bans. These bans, when they exist, are fairly narrow and apply only to those rare speech acts in which other people are put in danger by speech (yelling the N-word in a crowded theater, for example). This pedantry isn't correct even within its own terms, however, because plenty of people get in trouble for making threats. The FBI has an entire entrapment program dedicated to getting mentally ill muslims and rednecks to post stuff like "Death 2 the Super bowl!!" on twitter, arresting them, and the doing a press conference about how they heroically saved the world from terrorism.

Another, more recent pedant's trend is claiming that, actually, you do have freedom of speech; you just don't have freedom from the consequences of speech. This logic is eerily dictatorial and ignores the entire purpose of speech protections. Like, even in the history's most repressive regimes, people still technically had freedom of speech but not from consequences. Those leftist kids who the nazis beheaded for speaking out against the war were, by this logic, merely being held accountable.

The two conceptualizations of censorship I described above are, 99% of the time, deployed by people who are arguing in favor of a certain act of censorship but trying to exempt themselves from the moral implications of doing so. Censorship is rad when they get to do it, but they realize such a solipsism seems kinda icky so they need to explain how, actually, they're not censoring anybody, what they're doing is an act of righteous silencing that's a totally different matter. Maybe they associate censorship with groups they don't like, such as nazis or religious zealots. Maybe they have a vague dedication toward Enlightenment principles and don't want to be regarded as incurious dullards. Most typically, they're just afraid of the axe slicing both ways, and they want to make sure that the precedent they're establishing for others will not be applied to themselves.

Anyone who engages with this honestly for more than a few minutes will realize that censorship is much more complicated, especially in regards to its informal and social dimensions. We can all agree that society simply would not function if everyone said whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You might think your boss is a moron or your wife's dress doesn't look flattering, but you realize that such tidbits are probably best kept to yourself.

Again, this is a two-way proposition that everyone is seeking to balance. Do you really want people to verbalize every time they dislike or disagree with you? I sure as hell don't. And so, as part of a social compact, we learn to self-censor. Sometimes this is to the detriment of ourselves and our communities. Most often, however, it's just a price we have to pay in order to keep things from collapsing.

But as systems, large and small, grow increasingly more insane and untenable, so do the comportment standards of speech. The disconnect between America's reality and the image Americans have of themselves has never been more plainly obvious, and so striving for situational equanimity is no longer good enough. We can't just pretend cops aren't racist and the economy isn't run by venal retards or that the government places any value on the life of its citizens. There's too much evidence that contradicts all that, and the evidence is too omnipresent. There's too many damn internet videos, and only so many of them can be cast as Russian disinformation. So, sadly, we must abandon our old ways of communicating and embrace instead systems that are even more unstable, repressive, and insane than the ones that were previously in place.

Until very, very recently, nuance and big-picture, balanced thinking were considered signs of seriousness, if not intelligence. Such considerations were always exploited by shitheads to obfuscate things that otherwise would have seemed much less ambiguous, yes, but this fact alone does not mitigate the potential value of such an approach to understanding the world--especially since the stuff that's been offered up to replace it is, by every worthwhile metric, even worse.

So let's not pretend I'm Malcolm Gladwell or some similarly slimy asshole seeking to "both sides" a clearcut moral issue. Let's pretend I am me. Flash back to about a year ago, when there was real, widespread, and sustained support for police reform. Remember that? Seems like forever ago, man, but it was just last year... anyhow, now, remember what happened? Direct, issues-focused attempts to reform policing were knocked down. Blotted out. Instead, we were told two things: 1) we had to repeat the slogan ABOLISH THE POLICE, and 2) we had to say it was actually very good and beautiful and nonviolent and valid when rioters burned down poor neighborhoods.

Now, in a relatively healthy discourse, it might have been possible for someone to say something like "while I agree that American policing is heavily violent and racist and requires substantial reforms, I worry that taking such an absolutist point of demanding abolition and cheering on the destruction of city blocks will be a political non-starter." This statement would have been, in retrospect, 100000000% correct. But could you have said it, in any worthwhile manner? If you had said something along those lines, what would the fallout had been? Would you have lost friends? Your job? Would you have suffered something more minor, like getting yelled at, told your opinion did not matter? Would your acquaintances still now--a year later, after their political project has failed beyond all dispute--would they still defame you in "whisper networks," never quite articulating your verbal sins but nonetheless informing others that you are a dangerous and bad person because one time you tried to tell them how utterly fucking self-destructive they were being? It is undeniably clear that last year's most-elevated voices were demanding not reform but catharsis. I hope they really had fun watching those immigrant-owned bodegas burn down, because that’s it, that will forever be remembered as the most palpable and consequential aspect of their shitty, selfish movement. We ain't reforming shit. Instead, we gave everyone who's already in power a blank check to fortify that power to a degree you and I cannot fully fathom.

But, oh, these people knew what they were doing. They were good little boys and girls. They have been rewarded with near-total control of the national discourse, and they are all either too guilt-ridden or too stupid to realize how badly they played into the hands of the structures they were supposedly trying to upend.

And so left-liberalism is now controlled by people whose worldview is equal parts superficial and incoherent. This was the only possible outcome that would have let the system continue to sustain itself in light of such immense evidence of its unsustainability without resulting in reform, so that's what has happened.

But... okay, let's take a step back. Let's focus on what I wanted to talk about when I started this.

I came across a post today from a young man who claimed that his high school English department head had been removed from his position and had his tenure revoked for refusing to remove three books from classrooms. This was, of course, fallout from the ongoing debate about Critical Race Theory. Two of those books were Marjane Satropi's Persepolis and, oh boy, The Diary of Anne Frank. Fuck. Jesus christ, fuck.

Now, here's the thing... When Persepolis was named, I assumed the bannors were anti-CRT. The graphic novel does not deal with racism all that much, at least not as its discussed contemporarily, but it centers an Iranian girl protagonist and maybe that upset Republican types. But Anne Frank? I'm sorry, but the most likely censors there are liberal identiarians who believe that teaching her diary amounts to centering the suffering of a white woman instead of talking about the One Real Racism, which must always be understood in an American context. The super woke cult group Black Hammer made waves recently with their #FuckAnneFrank campaign... you'd be hard pressed to find anyone associated with the GOP taking a firm stance against the diary since, oh, about 1975 or so.

So which side was it? That doesn't matter. What matters is, I cannot find out.

Now, pro-CRT people always accuse anti-CRT people of not knowing what CRT is, and then after making such accusations they always define CRT in a way that absolutely is not what CRT is. Pro-CRTers default to "they don't want students to read about slavery or racism." This is absolutely not true, and absolutely not what actual CRT concerns itself with. Slavery and racism have been mainstays of American history curriucla since before I was born. Even people who barely paid attention in school would admit this, if there were any more desire for honesty in our discourse.

My high school history teacher was a southern "lost causer" who took the south's side in the Civil War but nonetheless provided us with the most descriptive and unapologetic understandings of slavery's brutalities I had heard up until that point. He also unambiguously referred to the nuclear attacks on Hiroshmia and Nagasaki as "genocidal." Why? Because most people's politics are idiosyncratic, and because you cannot genuinely infer a person to believe one thing based on their opinion of another, tangentially related thing. The totality of human understanding used to be something open-minded people prided themselves on being aware of, believe it or not...

This is the problem with CRT. This is is the motivation behind the majority of people who wish to ban it. It’s not because they are necessarily racist themselves. It’s because they recognize, correctly, that the now-ascendant frames for understanding social issues boils everything down to a superficial patina that denies not only the realities of the systems they seek to upend but the very humanity of the people who exist within them. There is no humanity without depth and nuance and complexities and contradictions. When you argue otherwise, people will get mad and fight back.

And this is the most bitter irony of this idiotic debate: it was never about not wanting to teach the sinful or embarrassing parts of our history. That was a different debate, one that was settled and won long ago. It is instead an immense, embarrassing overreach on behalf of people who have bullied their way to complete dominance of their spheres of influence within media and academe assuming they could do the same to everyone else. Some of its purveyors may have convinced themselves that getting students to admit complicity in privilege will prevent police shootings, sure. But I know these people. I’ve spoken to them at length. I’ve read their work. The vast, vast majority of them aren’t that stupid. The point is to exert control. The point is to make sure they stay in charge and that nothing changes. The point is failure.

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