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a-wanderers-nonsense · 10 months

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A Rough Start

Heya, deciding to post a preview of chapter one for the twst fic I'm writing featuring my oc. I've only got about 3 and a half chapters done but i wanted peoples opinions on it.

Only the first chapter is in second person pov just to really hammer in that sense of confusion and weariness, as the character in question doesn't even fully speak the same language as the characters from twst itself. I'm mentioning this just incase it's hard to understand or just not someone's particular cup of tea.

I dunno if it's any good or entertaining so really any sort of interaction would be welcome. I'll probably cross-post the rest of the chapter onto ao3 once I manage to get an account on there but if not then I'll just post the entire thing here if there's enough interest.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

*Rattle* *Rattle-rattle* *Ka-thump*

A loud rattling sound disturbs you from your deep sleep. You choose to ignore it.

".....? ……….!"

Someone's talking but you don't bother listening. Trying to roll over, you instead find yourself confined in a small space. Your eyes open groggily, confusedly only to find yourself in complete darkness.

*Ka-thump thump*

Panic takes hold as hazy memories come back to you. Memories of blood and bone; sharp metal and fire.

The voice on the other side sounds frustrated, but you ignore it. Instead, you begin clawing and ramming against whatever is holding you. There’s a yelp from the other side as your clawed hand breaks through thick wood. Your thick claws scrape at the outside of the door to your box prison trying to tear away at the wood before retreating back in. But before you can try again a burst of blue flame tears it from its hinges.

Flame. Fire. Everything’s on fire.

The hazy outlines of armed men and women surround you on all sides, you refuse to give in to them. Not again. Not this time. This time, you’ll escape. You’ll escape or you’ll die trying and damn anyone who tries to stop you.

You see a path forward.

Bursting forth from your cage you begin running on all fours – why had you been standing? – as quickly as your powerful legs will take you. Running down unfamiliar hallways your claws scrape against smooth stone as your heavy frame turns sharply down another hall, blasts of fire pass you by as behind you voices call for your capture, alive or dead. But you refuse. They will not take you, not again, not ever again.

You dodge another blast of fire as you continue to race forward. The exit is just ahead, you can see it. The warm sunlight blindingly bright as you crash through-

You are in a courtyard. A calm night breeze blows past you. An apple tree stands proud near the courtyards center with a finely kept well nearby. Nearby bush trees are neatly trimmed and well maintained along a cobble path. A full moon hangs above you, its bright light soothing your frazzled mind.

Standing on shaky legs you turn around from whence you came. There is no fire, no angry humans with weapons shouting after you. Only calm, cold stone.

Blinking rapidly, you can still feel your heart race as you try and catch your breath, only to see a familiar bright blue ball of flame launch itself at you from the darkness. You swat it away easily.

“Fnyahh?!”

You pause as you notice a small grey-black feline pop out from the dark of the hallway. His bright blue eyes match the electric blue flame tufts blazing from his ears. He wears a black and white striped ribbon with frayed ends and has a pitchfork shaped tail. A patch of white fur on his chest puffs out indignantly as he shouts at you.

“Who do yoo think yoo ahr, to swot uh-way my magic lahyk that, human?!”

Human? Taking a moment to inspect yourself you realize the small creature is right. Where once you thought were claws are instead sharp unkempt nails, and where once you thought was fur is now bald, somewhat scarred, tan brown skin, though covered by a form fitting black sleeve. You seemed to be wearing strange ornate black and purple robes embellished with gold key shapes that you never remember putting on much less ever dreamed of owning. They were comfortable and warm. Long, tangled blonde hair spilled out in parts from where it had been tucked into your robe. Your right sleeve blew freely in the gentle night wind.

“Hey! Heyyy human!! Ahym taw-king to yoo! What's rawng? Kant yoo uhnderstand me?” The creature waves its cute little pink paw at you. You blink owlishly in response.

“Ah.. speak… a small bit…?” You vaguely recall the language it speaks, some words and phrases, enough to get by… Get by for what?

“Ooookaaayyy…” it draws out the word in befuddlement of your response. You watch as it considers its next response. “Doo… yoo…-”

“Thair yoo ahr!” “Myaahh!”

The creature is cut off as it’s suddenly restrained by a long whip. Instantly you take up a defensive posture.

“That hurt! What gives!?”

“Kuhnsider it tuhf luhv.” Concealed under a top hat and behind a half-mask resembling a raven's beak, two beady golden eyes catch your own. “Ah, ahyv found yoo at last. Splen-did.”

The newcomer wore a black suit embroidered with a feathery design over which rested a great black coat. Thick blackbird feathers curl out from the deep blue collar of the man's greatcoat; the ends of the coat seemed to be cut to resemble wings. Three mirror-like accessories are attached to his hip, with four golden keys dangling from them. He wears another mirror-like charm on his hat, which has three more keys.

The man places a black gloved hand tipped with golden claw rings on his chin inquisitively.

“I truhst yoor one of this yeers nyoo stoodnts? You wur sur-tn-lee ee-ger to make yoor dey-byoo. And may-king a mess as wel by the looks of it!” He gestures toward a patch of burnt grass, the area where the mini fire ball had landed and fizzled out after your deflection.

You look at the patch in confusion before staring back at the taller man. His already beady eyes are squinted in obvious irritation. Short wavy black hair catches the moonlight and causes you to pause as you notice pointed ears peeking out from underneath.

You may not know what he was talking about but he’d more than made his ire known through his mannerisms. You give a quick glance at the whip in his hand and the creature currently restrained by it before bowing your head and mumbling out an apology. You don't know who or what this man was or might be but it was better to acquiesce for now than to end up like the cat-creature. “Mraaahh! Let me go! They kant ee-vuhn uhnderstand y-”

“Quiet yoo. Kant yoo see ahym talking to yoor master rahyt now?”

“Mmmrph?!”

Anger ignites in your chest as you watch the man gag the much smaller creature. You want to pounce and tear at the man in order to free it but you can’t. You want to yell and roar at him but you can’t. This place was completely unfamiliar to you from the stonework and buildings down to the language and right now, the only one you even slightly knew was the creature currently being held hostage by the man before you. You wanted to simply reach out and take it away from the man but instinct told you he wouldn't let such a thing happen, not without trouble, and it seems you’ve already caused enough of that to get on the tall man's nerves.

“To thingk you wuhd bring such a ribelyuhs fuh-milyer with you. Onist-lee, of all the stoodnts ahyv dealt with, yoor the first with tuhmeritee ih-nuhf to tear open thair own geyt and leap out of it. Dohz the very noh-shuhn of pey-shuhns ih-lood you?” He sighs, placing a clawed hand to his temple in clear annoyance. “No matter. Yoor awr-ee-uhn-tey-shuhn has awl-red-ee bih-guhn. Let us make heyst.”

He turns his back to you and begins walking the way you came, obviously wanting you to follow. You can hear your heart pounding in your chest as he turns. He was open now, you could reach out and grab-

“Wel?”

As if sensing your thoughts the man had turned and stared down at you. He breaks into a sudden smile.

“Ah of kawrs, you shood walk in fruhnt of us. I’ll need to keep an eye on you after all.”

He gestures for you to step forward in front of him. When you don’t, he nudges you forward somewhat forcefully with his cane. You growl low in your chest but eventually comply. You’d been so close. So so close. But freedom is never achieved so easily. You should have known that by now.

Behind you, the tall man hums as he leads you back through those foreign halls.

#twst #twisted wonderland #writing #twst oc

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theglitterypages · 3 years

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Title: Sweetheart Part 2

Pairings: Armin x fem! reader

Part One

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000+

••••••

“Fix your postures!” you commanded, your hands are on your back as you walk in front of the Cadets. Levi stood behind you with a smirk on his face, he's been a little gentle with the Cadets these days but now that you're back to kick ass with him this would be so fun.

“Kirstein! Straighten up your back!”

Jean immediately obeyed while Connie was staring at you with wide eyes, this was not how they remembered you few days ago, you were soft spoken then, all sweet and all smiles but now they are seeing the tigress that Levi was talking about.

Levi was even more gentle in handling them because Levi rarely shouts yet his words carries heavy emotions but you, you can do both.

“She's the sister of the commander that's why she has the guts but I bet she's all cry and whine if she faced a Titan.”

You have a good sense of hearing and you heard what the Cadet has said about you, it wasn't the first time that someone underestimated you because of your gender and because you're Erwin's sister, it's one of the stereotypes, you don't actually mind but what you heard next took every single strand of patience inside you.

“Bet she's a good screamer in bed.”

Levi balled his hand into a fist, he may call you brat and have endless argumentd with you but he treats you like a sister and hearing the Cadets say those filthy words to you makes his blood boil but then when he saw how you tilted your head in both sides and how your eyes went blank he already knew that you can handle it yourself, you're not a simple girl after all so he let you do what you want.

Your eyes wandered around the Cadets, you were hurt by those comments, you hated being looked down just because they think you had it easy because of your brother when in fact you almost die a lot of times in the past and those wounds from Titan attacks heals in time but those words that serves as daggers stabbing your heart won't.

After a minute of searching you found the pair that you heard, the two men were standing beside Armin Arlert, it would've been a great view if the assholes weren't standing beside him, Armin Arlert's face screams peace, those blue eyes are calming.

“I bet she's been sleeping with the Captain.”

That was the last straw, Armin immediately threw hard punches towards the two guys who are both taller, and probably a couple of years older than him, he had enough of their dirty mouths, he knew that he's not suppose to do that but he couldn't stand them talking shits about you like that, his knuckles got red because of the impact and when he looked down at the two fellow Cadets, both their nose were broken as they lay flat on the ground.

Levi was shocked to see Armin straight up punch his fellow Cadets but he secretly smiled, he knew that the kid is promising. Everybody just need a little push to unleash their demons, seems like Armin Arlert has been unleashed just now.

Eren and Mikasa immediately went beside Armin to put a hand on his shoulders trying to calm him down silently, the blonde teen was heavily breathing, “I was taught by my grandfather to treat women right, you don't talk dirty shits about them like that, respect a woman the way you respect your Mother.” Armin growled through gritted teeth, he's surprised of the damage that he had done to the two men, those broken and bleeding nose gives him some sort of satisfaction but as he tore his blue eyes away from the two, he met your eyes.

You were frozen on your position, you were planning to do punch them first but Armin's action made you stop, you see the blonde guy as a soft one, the type of person who wouldn't even dare hurt a fly but here he is proving that he knows how to throw a good punch, when your gaze met, the anger on his eyes vanished, his face softened as his cheeks turned bright red including both of his ears.

With a small smile you made your way towards them, Connie, Jean and Sasha were standing behind Armin now too, checking up on him, you've deduced that he's like the baby in the group, suits him, he does look like a baby.

You looked down at the Cadets lying on the floor and grabbed their collars so you could lift them off the ground.

Everybody gasped at your action but no one dared to interfere. “I would love to have you two on our squad next expedition but we're the one leading the whole team which means...we're the first one to encounter titans and if we're unfortunate we'll be the first ones to get eaten too. I'll show you how I cry in front of the Titans then.” you let go both of their collars and let them land butt first on the ground.

You turned to Armin and smiled at him genuinely, “I appreciate your efforts for breaking their nose for me, Cadet. Thank you.” you smiled as you pat his head, Armin looked up at you with a smile, his cheeks flaming red, “It's natural human decency, M-Ma'am. No need to thank me.” you smiled at him and pursed your lips before walking away so you could go back to the center of the scouts.

“Captain Levi would take over now.”

Levi stood beside you and the Scouts saluted at him, “Take care of some written reports for me, brat.” he ordered and you nodded as a response as you walked away from the training grounds but before you could even went further, you heard grunts and gasps behind you.

You saw how the sole of Levi's boots collided with the face of the Cadets, you winced and bit your lower lip as you see how Levi kicked them hard.

“I'll make sure you two would learn how to respect your superiors now and women in general.”

You started to feel bad because you're damn sure their jaws would be dislocated because of Levi's signature kick but you remembered that they're assholes and they deserved it so you proceeded to go on and take care of the written reports instead of watching their ass get beaten.

°°°°

It was already dark when you've decided to take a walk to try and breathe some fresh air, you looked up at the dark sky, the moon was shining brightly.

Your eyes settled on the mysterious moon, you've always been fascinated of the moon, when you were a kid you often cry to tell Erwin that the moon is a creep because it keeps on following you, your brother would always hold back his laughter and would assure you that he'll protect you from the moon.

A part of you wishes that you two should've stayed as kids then, your brother has been seeking to find out the truth and as he gets closer to that truth, you're slowly losing him. You immediately wiped a tear away, you should just be happy for your brother and make sure he'll be safe, that would be enough.

You lifted your arms towards the sky as if reaching the moon, it is beautiful yet awfully frightening but the stars cast out those fears, as the stars shine brightly in the night sky you felt at ease and you smiled to yourself before putting your hands back to your pocket. It's getting colder now.

The cold wind embraced your whole and you shivered strands of your hair escaped from your messy hair bun. When the cold was too much for you to handle, wearing thin clothes is not a wise decision so you've decided to go back inside just to hear a hissing nearby, if you're right the hissing comes from the tree nearby.

Out of curiosity you slowly made your way towards the tree, you just silently prayed that it's not Cadets that are making out outside because you've witness a pair making out behind trees before and you wouldn't want it to happen again.

But as you got closer to the tree you confirmed that it wasn't a couple doing something nasty outside, it is an angel silently sitting down.

“Aren't you suppose to be sleeping by this time now?”

Armin's eyes widened as his head snapped on your direction, his mouth gaped open as while his brows raised in surprise. "I c-can't sleep Ma'am.” he stammered and looked away from you, not that he doesn't want to see you, it's just that the thin material that you're wearing is revealing your cleavage. He had to gulp and remind himself that it's not appropriate to look at women like that.

“Mind if I sit down beside you? I couldn't sleep either.”

“I-I don't really mind.”

When your arms accidentally brushed, Armin wanted to flinch but he didn't because he wouldn't want to offend you and when you looked at him you can still see how red his cheeks were even if it's dark. “Thank you for what you did, earlier. I don't really mind such comments anymore, it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be my last either.” you chuckled bitterly, you've worked hard to be a skilled fighter so you could prove to everyone that you're not a woman living as your brother's shadows.

But sometimes life is fucked up, actually most of the time it is fucked up.

“You should inform Commander Erwin about it. I mean they're crossing the line, they're talking as if they know you.”

“How about you, do you know me?”

“It feels like...I do.” he silently whispered as he looked down on his hands, you followed his gaze and your mout gaped open when you saw that there's a bandage covering his knuckles. “By the walls, Armin...w-what happened? You shouldn't have done it, I could've taken care of them myself.” you grabbed his hand and examined it, not that you can see through those bandages but you just feel like doing so.

Armin could've taken away his hands from you but he didn't, feeling your soft skin against his is comforting, he's forgotten that he shed a tear when Mikasa put those bandages around his knuckles, he didn't break any bone but it's red and sore, he's not really cut out for scenarios like that but it was worth it because he was able to defend you at some way, in the little way that he could.

“It's just sore. I'm not really good at punching, you know. I used to get beaten up as a kid, they'll steal my food and Eren and Mikasa would come to rescue me but now, I finally...I finally get to do something for someone.”

“Why didn't you fight back before?”

“Because I can't and I'm not as brave. You know, when I came face to face with a Titan, I—I was frozen. Eren got eaten and it was fortunate that he's alive.”

You didn't notice that you stared caressing his knuckles as you listened but it seems ljke he doesn't notice too so you let it be, “But look at you now, I've heard from Erwin that you're a smart one. You've figured out who is the female titan right?” Armin looked at you and his blue eyes widened in shock as he saw how close you two were.

He knew that in one wrong move he can finally know how would it feel to have your lips press against his, if he'll move his head forward maybe he can feel how soft those lips are.

But he stayed back, he respects you. He's attracted to you but he knows his boundaries, his grandfather told him to grow up as a gentleman and all that and he thinks of Mikasa, if Mikasa would be treated so inappropriate by a man he wouldn't like that, he wouldn't like that to happen to his sister.

That's why he would behave himself around you and he'll choose to be contented of just staring at you, it's more than enough.

“W-Well it was a gamble and I was already late...it was—”

You kissed his cheek to shut him up. The poor guy looked at you as his whole face reddened, both his ears flaming up.

“W-Why d-did you do that?” he whispered as he looked away.

“I just want to. Can you promise me one thing?” you asked as you leaned away, Armin looked at you with curiosity before he opened his mouth to respond, “It depends, make me promise something that I can fulfill.” he told you. When he promised someone, he'll always make sure that he can fulfill because he hates it when promises are broken and he wouldn't want to break any promise to anyone, especially to you.

“Each one of us has our own expertise, I want you to focus on yours and if you find yourself in a fucked up situation, don't hesitate to go to me, call out my name or somethin', I have your back now, Armin.”

“Then call out my name too if you need me.” Armin told you bravely, he doesn't have any idea why he felt this way but the moment he saw you after bumping into you, he already know that he's attracted, he told Eren about it, Eren teased him and he's not amused, not that he hates it but he's afraid that you'll hear.

He often watch you from afar, most of the times you are found with the Captain, probably why some thinks the two of you are in a relationship but as you sat beside him under the moonlight, his heart was filled of hope.

“Good night then, sweetheart.” you whispered as you gently press your lips on his cheeks again, as usual, he was frozen and you stood up to walk away so you could go back inside already.

Armin followed you with his gaze as a sweet smile made its way across his lips, his eyes sparking with glee.

“Good night, sweetheart.” he whispered.

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terrainofheartfelt · 3 years

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"It's been more like a 'Choose Your Own Adventure'!" A Rufly Playlist

Finally, a use for my Dad(™) music taste! I threw in a few live recordings/rough sessions because that’s rock and roll, babey. YouTube link here

image sources: (x) (x) (x)

American Girl - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

If you think this isn’t a rufly song, then idk what to tell you.

And for one desperate moment there / He crept back in her memory / God, it's so painful when something that is so close / Is still so far out of reach

Light My Fire - The Doors

Making this playlist was fun because I got to imagine a lot of precanon Rufus/Lily, and how they came to be. And like, I can see Rufus covering a LOT of these, yk?

The time to hesitate is through / No time to wallow in the mire

Funny Feelin’ - Langhorne Slim

I can also see Rufus actually writing some of these. Like this one!

Well, I got my eye on you, baby / And I know I ain't the only one / But if you just say maybe / My lonely days would be done

Superstar - tswift

If you don’t project onto at least one tswift song can you even call it a ship playlist?

And I knew from the first note played / I'd be breaking all my rules to see you / You smile that beautiful smile and all the girls in the front row / Scream your name

Lay, Lady, Lay - Bob Dylan

Tour life vibes

His clothes are dirty but his, his hands are clean / And you’re the best thing that he’s ever seen

Fire - Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band

Your kisses they burn / But your heart stays cool

Fooled Around and Fell in Love - as performed by Morgan James

Because Lily Rhodes really did fuck around and find out.

Free, on my own is the way I used to be / Ah, but since I met you baby, love's got a hold on me

Don’t Let Me Down - The Beatles

Nothing says Lily & Rufus like a Beatles deep cut.

I'm in love for the first time / Don't you know it's gonna last

Shadows of the Night - Pat Benatar

80s rock vibes, babe!

You can cry tough baby, it's all right / You can let me down easy, but not tonight

She - as performed by She & Him

She may be the love that cannot hope to last / May come to me from shadows of the past

Can’t Buy Me Love - The Beatles

Tell me that you want the kind of things / That money just can't buy / I don't care too much for money / Money can't buy me love

Second Hand News - Fleetwood Mac

It’s breakup chapter time, y’all

I know there's nothing to say / Someone has taken my place

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen

I met her in a Kingstown bar / We fell in love I knew it had to end / We took what we had and we ripped it apart / Now here I am down in Kingstown again

Piece of My Heart - as performed by Big Brother and the Holding Company

Have another little piece of my heart now, baby / Well, you know you got it, child, if it makes you feel good

Love Really Hurts Without You - Billy Ocean

In my head, this is the “Lily and her cavalcade of failed relationships post-Rufus” montage song

You walk like a dream and you make like you're queen of the action

Halls - Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness

This is the “Rufus touring post-Lily” montage song

Thought a broken heart could write a perfect song / And it did and I was right so now you're gone

Mulholland Drive - The Gaslight Anthem

Okay so we all know about the Dair & Rufly parallels, and this song nearly ended up on that playlist, but the vibe didn’t quite fit. And I think, in my heart of hearts, that this song (though probs more punk than Lincoln Hawk sounds) reads like Rufus could have written it. And there are lines that are so evocative of both Dair & Rufly like I still remember holding you, just out of sight of her - like! That’s Valentine’s day 2012 amirite??? And: But it scared you, love, to need someone, so you killed it all instead. And the imagery of Mulholland Drive with Lily being from LA...Anyways this song is one of my all time favorites.

Would you miss me if I was gone and all the simple things were lost? / Would you ever wait on me to say / Oh that I’d just die if you ever took your love away

Malibu 1922 - COIN

You're some old man's new trophy / Locked up in some house in New Jersey / Now money's not a problem / But 20 years it seems you've forgotten

How’s the World Treating You - Elvis Presley

Pilot Rufly vibes, but sad!

Every sweet thing that mattered / Has been broken in two / And I'm asking you, darling / How's the world treating you?

Even Cowgirls Get the Blues - The Gaslight Anthem

Pilot Rufly vibes, but sexy!

Can I get a witness, pretty baby? / I still love Tom Petty songs and drivin' old men crazy

It Ain’t Me Babe - Bob Dylan

“You made a choice to be Lily Bass, and we both need you to go do that.”

Go lightly from the ledge, babe / Go lightly on the ground / I’m not the one you want, babe / I will only let you down

Harvest Moon - Neil Young

It’s about the lovers to strangers to hostile acquaintances to friends to lovers again.

When we were strangers / I watched you from afar / When we were lovers / I loved you with all my heart

Home From Home - Roo Panes

“Well, it’s Thanksgiving, and I couldn’t think of another place that felt more like home.”

Because I'm starting to realise the question worth asking is, who? / I'm starting to realize the question worth answering is you

You Got Lucky - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

I mean. I mean they do fight a lot.

If you don't feel complete / If I don't take you all the way / Then go

Are We Free? - Mick Flannery and Susan O’Neill

I like how this whole song is a dialogue, but always comes together at the chorus

Are we free to understand / or bound to repeat again / all the wars of before?

The Bones feat. Hozier - Maren Morris

“The king and queen of reconciliation” - Dan Humphrey

No, it won't always go the way we planned it / But the wolves came and went and we're still standing

Songbird - Fleetwood Mac

They didn’t break up, what are you talking about?

And I love you, I love you, I love you / Like never before

Beginning to Feel the Years - Brandi Carlile

And I'm beginning to feel the years / But I'm going to be okay / As long as you're beside me--along the way

Call on Me - Big Brother and the Holding Company

Baby, when you're down and feel so blue / Well, no, you won't drown, honey, I'll be there too

Lily - Benjamin Gibbard

It was too perfect. I had no choice.

Lily is a big brass band who fills the air with song / Lily is a destination and she's where my arms belong

Hard Feelings - Brian Fallon

And the time used to stop in her hands / I could feel it go hesitant / When it rained in Manhattan / We took shelter in the spare room at the Grand

#rufus x lily #lily x rufus #rufly #gossip girl #playlist #source: ggcaps #i swear I've been meaning to post this before the asks I just got today

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straydawg-writing · 4 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 2–

You knew that if anyone outside of this car saw you right now, you might just pass away. To put it simply: You were sitting on Killua's lap.

All because Kite's truck only fit seven people.

The way this predicament came about would have been comical if it weren't for your burning embarrassment. Unfortunately, you could remember very clearly how it all unfolded:

"Hmm, it seems that there aren't enough seats for all eight of us, so one person will have to squish in," Kite said, opening the car door to check the seats.

"Who's the smallest one here?" Gon asked. All seven pairs of eyes turned to look at you.

Great. The benefits of never having had your growth spurt.

Killua was the one to open his mouth, snickering, "Obviously it's Y/N. She's like a midget!"

"Killua, you are literally an entire 2 ½ feet shorter than Kite over there," you defended yourself.

From a distance, you had guessed Kite was around 6'3. Once you got a closer look at him, you discovered that he towered over you like a skyscraper. Your curiosity got the best of you and naturally, you had asked him what his height was. The man was a whopping 7 foot 10.

"It's okay Y/N, you can squish with me," Gon offered.

Killua shook his head. "No way. Squishing will just make everyone uncomfortable. It's better if only one person suffers. Y/N, you can sit on my lap."

He had left no room for argument. Sighing, you knew that even if you tried, you had no say in this anymore. You would just have to suck it up for the next 4 hours.

Now you were here, sitting on him, worrying about whether you were cutting the circulation off to his legs or not. Or perhaps you were too bony and it was hurting him.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck, and it sent goosebumps across your entire body. This was beyond awkward.

"Stop it," Killua muttered, right in your ear.

Oh, you'd done it now, hadn't you? Killua was gonna push you off onto Gon instead.

"Stop what?"

"You're so stiff, just...relax," he paused, "I don't mind sitting this way."

Hearing his voice so close to you sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Maybe this was okay.

You untensed, trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, but the bumpy car ride wasn't making it very easy. Kite ran over a rock, and without a seatbelt it sent you jerking upwards. Thanks to his fast reflexes, Killua gripped your waist, holding you tightly to his body.

"The seatbelt won't reach over the both of us, but this'll keep you from flying."

"Heh, thanks Killua. I think we should reach the beach in a bit..." you said, hoping that the thought of it being over soon might offer him some relief.

It doesn't matter who it is, being this close to someone could send anyone into a frenzy. You were hyper-aware of every one of his fingers grasping onto your waist. He wasn't lying. He was keeping you right there.

You'd just have to stop thinking about it, you told yourself. Or else you'd go crazy.

Trying to relax back into Killua like he had asked, you let your mind wander to the reason you were driving in the first place. The day before, the three of you had decided to stick with Kite and help him investigate the Chimera ants. The beach you were headed to now is supposed to have a clue about where the ant queen is located, so you could bring an end to the destruction before it starts. During the car ride, you had learned they were a truly deadly species. One bite of an innocent passerby, and they had the means to bring the entire human race to extinction.

You felt like something was starting. And your intuition was rarely wrong.

Gazing at Gon who had been talking with Kite for a while now, you noticed how his eyes crinkle into little smiles whenever he talks. You knew that having Kite around, his father's best friend, surely excited him to the bone. Gon was just oozing with optimism, without even trying. You could tell that just by being himself, he was keeping the spirits up of all eight in the group, not allowing any room for doubt or fear to creep into anyone's minds.

At that moment, you swore that whatever happened, you would be there to protect Gon and Killua. Even if it costs you everything.

Hopefully, this wasn't one of your friends' last few moments of tranquility. But if it was, you were determined to spend it well.

Resting your head against Killua, you hoped that he wouldn't mind if you indulged in this for just a moment. You were tired, having not gotten much rest since completing Greed Island and meeting Kite.

It didn't take much time for you to fall asleep to the rise and fall of Killua's steady breathing and his sweet vanilla scent. If you'd been awake, you might have even heard his heartbeat racing beneath you.

⋯✰⋯

You had finally reached the beach.

Killua had nudged you awake once you'd gotten there. You remembered how his blue eyes stared back at you as he poked your face, calling you an idiot for falling asleep, and you chuckled.

There was one thing you were clueless about; Killua had made sure not to move even once the whole rest of the car ride. He was nervous that he might disturb your peacefully sleeping form.

You were still pretty groggy as you looked out at the sea, the bright sun reflecting on the ocean's surface. You wanted to wiggle your toes in the sand, but you were there for a reason. To find anything that might lead to the Queen.

You searched in bushes, behind rocks, under seashells, and even used your nen to sift through as much sand as you could. So far, the group had ruled out the forest and deemed it difficult to know if the ant even ended up on the same island. That's when they decided to release the hellhound. Well- it wasn't a hellhound. It was the little dog you played with yesterday. Along with Gon.

Gon was following behind the dog on all floors, sniffing the ground as he went.

"He can do that?" You asked no one in particular.

"His nose is as sharp as a dog's," Killua responded, watching Gon with an amused look in his eye.

A couple minutes went by with no luck. The only thing the dog had found was a tree to pee on. It looked like the ant wasn't going to be on this island, though Kite had an idea.

"It may have washed ashore somewhere else. Which direction do the currents flow here?" Kite asked the two that had brought us down to the beach. One was short with brown skin and grey hair that sprouted up like hay, while the other had large glasses and two front teeth poking out from his mouth.

"The direction is reversed between day and night. And it also changes with the seasons. I've even heard it's different on certain days. So it'll be tough to pinpoint a location..." said Chipmunk Teeth. That's what you'd call him, since you hadn't gotten his name.

So basically, no one had any idea on how to find the Chimera Ant Queen.

"Continuing to search blindly is pointless. We should return to YorkNew and see if we can find any new leads there."

You heard the group around you agreeing with Kite. He and his friends began walking back to the truck already, but you stayed put. You would catch up to them later.

The ocean reminded you of your home. You thought you should say goodbye to it first.

Ripples of water lapped gently at your feet. You always had a connection with nature. Having lived in a small village located in the middle of a jungle most of your life, the earth had become your dearest friend. One of your earliest memories was from exploring the coves back at home. You stretched out your arm across the water, and watched the liquid softly rise to your hand as you called it.

That's why you chose this nen ability. It tied you to the elements. When you fought with it, together you were one body.

"Y/N, come on! Kite's threatening to leave without you," Gon waved you over. Taking one last look at the sea, you turned away.

The sun was already setting by the time you left for the city.

⋯✰⋯

Going back to YorkNew was the right decision. Now you all knew where to look.

Kite had discovered that the possibilities of the Chimera Ant landing in NGL were the highest. Apparently, NGL was a country populated with people who wanted to get away from machine civilization and live in nature.

You loved nature too, but you thought that was a little extreme. There was a reason you had to leave your beloved jungle behind.

"There may very well be a giant swarm of Chimera Ants already hunting humans down. If that's the case, my top priority will be saving them. You must be able to protect yourselves," Kite warned us.

"And if I am the one in trouble, you should escape without me."

At that, Gon and Killua looked unsettled. But backing down now was not an option.

"Got it," you said, breaking the silence and offering a kind nod to Kite, "and until the very last moment, the three of us will have your back."

"Yeah!" The other two boys concurred.

Now, you sat with Gon and Killua on an airship to NGL. The three of you were sitting on a bench, looking out of a window that framed velvet-peach clouds displaying brilliant silver linings.

Gon was reflecting on their last conversation with Kite.

"You said that Ging had a reason for bringing me and Kite together," he rested his arms and head on the window-frame.

Killua broke his sight from the clouds and looked at Gon.

"Yeah, I did."

"You're probably right. I don't know the reason, but I can't give up halfway, no matter what's going on. Otherwise, I'll disappoint Ging... And I'd never be able to forgive myself either. So I won't run away," Gon continued, resolved with his decision.

There was a moment of silence as the three of you let his words sink in.

You admired Gon's determination, but you hated that Ging had a son risking his life just to avoid disappointing a dad he's never met.

"Man, you had this totally serious expression, so I was expecting something big. But it's just business as usual," Killua smiled.

"Huh?" Gon's mouth hung open. "I thought about this a lot, I even ran a bunch of mental simulations! And I liked what Y/N said earlier, about having Kite's back until the very end."

"Think all you want, but you'll still be Gon. If someone said to abandon them, you'd never do it," You lightly punched his shoulder.

He pouted, cradling where you hit him, and you rolled your eyes.

"Drama queen."

Gon chose to ignore that and turned back to Killua. "Then what would you do?'"

"I'm a spontaneous guy, so I'd think about it once the time comes."

"So, you'd run away?" Gon questioned.

"Depends. I can't say until it actually happens."

"Say for instance..."

Killua threw his hands up, beat, "I can't tell you what I'd do in a hypothetical situation!"

"Then, what about you Y/N?"

"Gon!" You whined.

Truth be told, you hadn't thought about what you would do. It depended like Killua said. But you did know one thing...

"I would never leave you two behind. Even if that meant I'd have to die."

⋯✰⋯

#hunter x hunter #killua x reader #killua zoldyck x reader #hunterxhunter fanfiction #hxh #self insert #y/n #hxh fanfic #chimera ant arc #kite #angst #fluff

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desertofsnowflakes · 3 years

Text

Incorrect Order Chapter 3 (Nesssian AU)

A/N: I'm very(read: kinda) sorry for cliffhanger last chapter. Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Language

2094 words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

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

Cassian never knew such panic. He knew he was being an ass for acting as if he had the right to be protective of her. Of the person he didn’t even know the name of. Of the person he felt drawn to and yet wanted to forget. Of the person who got under his skin so easily. Of the person whose beauty can bring the best of men to their knees and make even queens try everything possible to best her. He didn’t know her at all other than a few conversations that weren’t his best moments, but he still felt as if they had been together since they were just kids.

All of those were reasons good enough to get him to forget other females. But this woman, gods, this woman wasn’t like the others, was she? No, she wasn’t. He found her on her knees with a man standing before her in an alley on the way back home from the library. At first glance, his heart broke for different reasons. He started walking away, before he realised it wasn’t what he thought it was. When he caught the telltale whiff of blood and saw the glint of a blade from the corner of his eyes.

Undiluted panic and rage —both feelings he didn’t have the right to feel— spurred him forward, knocking the man unconscious and breaking a bone or two for good measure, only to find the woman laying on the floor, her heart beating too fast for her good. Cassian debated entrusting the man and woman over to the authorities. Somehow, Cassian felt that the man and woman were well acquainted before today. He felt all of this was planned from the man’s side. So he brought both of them to his house. The guy was shoved into the basement with a strong sedative. The woman was left in the guest room one of his brothers or friends slept in whenever they stayed over. He didn’t take her to his room. No, he won’t. That would rip open a wound he still struggled to keep closed. A wound that wasn’t even closed properly. That would remind him of images he didn’t want to admit was stored in his mind. One of those images rose, of the woman laying on his bed, golden-brown hair fanned around her flushed face, her eyes screwed shut in—

Cassian shoved that image away and sighed. He should probably have a little chat with the woman once she wakes up.

Today, when the woman didn’t wake up after one week of unconsciousness, when her face was ghastly pale, he felt the optimism that incentivised him slowly seeping out. He started regretting his decision of not handing things over to the police. What if Cassian’s first aid hadn’t been enough? Worse, what if he did something wrong? What if, because of his actions —done knowingly, or unknowingly— would be the reason why the earth loses a certain gray-eyed beauty?

Cassian was close to giving up. It pained him to see her like this. If not for the slight rise and fall of her chest he would think she was dead already. He slowly walked to her bed, crouched and tucked stray strands of hair behind the shell of her ear. He tamped down the emotion cresting in him. Her pulse was getting steadier day by day. He should be happy— his one week of taking leave from both of his jobs and tending to her was paying off. But his mind shot to the moment that day when they first met. When he was stunned by her beauty. Her side-profile, not even her full face, at that. That day, when he realised something deadly was brewing between them. It had been growing from that day, he realised. It was barely five weeks since he had known her— he didn’t even know her. They were just acquaintances. Still, Cassian knew he was falling hard for her. This time, he couldn’t contain the swell of emotion in him. He couldn't hold back the tear rolling down his cheek. He slowly slipped out of the room and sighed. To say he was screwed was a major understatement.

***

Everywhere hurt. Death was supposed to be one's liberation. No one mentioned that there was physical pain in death. There shouldn't be, right? One didn't even have a body to feel physical pain after death. Mental pain? Probably. Physical pain? A big no.

Nesta blinked open her eyes — which again, no one mentioned ghosts would be able to do.

Huh. She expected Hell —for the mistakes she'd atoned, she assumed Hell would be her place— to be all dark and gloomy. What she didn't expect was for Hell to have separate rooms— with furniture and bright blue walls, no less.

She wanted to sit up and get a sense of her surroundings and clear her still groggy head. That's when she heard muffled footsteps. She jerked upright —and immediately regretted it for her head hurt even worse than before — and her pulse raced. She paused. Pulse raced?

She cautiously placed her hand on her wrist, then her neck and on her chest to be sure. Pulse. She had a pulse. She wasn’t dead?

The door flew open revealing a hulking, heaving figure she knew all too well. What was he doing here?

Ohh. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories from the alley. Of Tomas. She opened her eyes to find the man sitting on a chair near the bed. Immediately she was keenly aware of the limited space between them. He silently passed her a glass of water she gladly downed, refilled and let her drink her as much as she wanted.

She set her glass on the bedside table and looked up at him, at the concern etched deep on his face.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” he asked.

Why is he being kind? Why is he making it difficult for me to hate him?

“Why am I here?” she asked instead.

“I asked you first,” he deadpanned. Typical.

“Mhm, nice way to deflect. Too kiddish, though,” she said.

“As if you aren’t deflecting,” he retorted.

“How about this? Your answers for mine.”

He huffed. “Whatever. So, are you okay?”

She smiled, “Me first.” At his glare she said, “I’m sick, aren’t I?”

“How nice of you to pull that card,” he murmured.

“Why am I here?”

“I found you on your knees, your nose slightly broken, bleeding here and there with a man holding a knife to your throat in an alley.” He shrugged. “I brought you and healed you as well as I could without gaining attention from the authorities. This is my home.”

She opened her mouth to ask her next question.

He cut her off with a smile and said, “My turn, sweetheart.”

She clenched her jaw. His audacity.

He leaned forward on his elbows. “Does anything hurt?”

“Yeah,” she allowed herself a small smile, “My head feels like it's being hit with a hammer by a particularly unkind person. My nose feels like it’s stuffed with cotton. My scalp feels like it’s being used as a cotton reel. I’m in dire need of a bath. Other than that, I’m fine I guess.”

He nodded, “Well, I’m glad you’re fine.” There he is, being all kind and caring to me again. He chuckled. “No need to give me that look. I’m just glad my one week off didn’t go down the drain.”

That was what she wanted to hear. But it still stung. Her head snapped up as realisation struck. “Wait— has it been one week already?”

He smirked, “Yes. Now, my question—”

She frowned, “It’s my turn.”

His smirk only grew larger. That bastard. “ ‘Has it been one week already’ is a question, my love.”

Shit. She should’ve thought about that. He was correct but still, “How dare—”

“Calm down, darling, calm down. If you want—”

She sighed and said, “Bring it on, then.”

His jaw ticked. He’s angry, she realised. “Who was he?” he asked quietly.

She drew in a breath. “That was Tomas. Tomas Mandray. My ex-boyfriend. He probably wanted revenge for putting him in jail.” She didn’t explain. She didn’t want to and he seemed to understand that. She slightly dreaded the next question. She put on her no-emotion face and asked, “Where is he?”

His face said he saw right through her facade. He pursed his lips, “In the basement. I figured the both of you had some sort of personal history so I wanted to wait for you to wake up before I did anything. He’s not awake; I’ve taken care of that but I don’t think he’ll be unconscious much longer. Do you need anything?”

She nodded, she was still in the same clothes as that day. There were blood stains throughout her black shirt. The mere thought that she hadn't cleaned herself for one week made her shudder. He didn’t change her clothes and she appreciated that though it seemed her face, neck and hands were wiped with a cloth. “I’d like a bath.”

He seemed to consider this before saying, “Sure. You can use my friend's clothes from the closet. The bathroom is there. Take a bath, use whatever you want. I'll get breakfast ready.”

He turned to leave. “Wait,” she called.

He arched his brows, waiting. “Thank you. For everything.”

He gave her his signature half-smile, “Anytime, darling.”

***

Making breakfast was normally very easy. Today, however, it was proving to be a very, very difficult task. Apparently, your brain turns to mush when the woman you've been drooling behind is bathing under the same roof. Also when you're talking to her. He found it a miracle that he didn't make a fool of himself earlier.

But he was sober enough to see the vulnerability behind her guarded expressions when they were talking about her ex-boyfriend. Gods, her ex-boyfriend. The anger he felt when he saw him in the alley was less than a tenth of what he felt now. He didn't know why he was angry. He just… was. He knew she was smart and brave and strong. But that didn't wipe off the fact that somewhere, beneath the tigress exterior, there was a scared little rabbit. He knew what he was going to do might be stupid. He knew it might not work out. Still, Cassian was going to arm the scared rabbit, consequences be damned.

***

Turns out, he makes delicious breakfast. There was steak, salad, boiled potatoes and a number of other foods. Nesta didn't know when she last had such mouth-watering steak. Not that she'll admit it though.

“Did he see you?” she asked after a hearty meal. “Tomas,” she clarified.

“No,” he replied, “I came from the back. His guard was down so he wasn't ready. I don't think he's trained in this kinda stuff. He probably knows a little but not good enough. Why?”

She shook her head. “I don't think I want anything to do with him. Would you mind sending him to the police? Maybe you could just attach a note saying you found him abandoned somewhere or something like that. I really don't want to get you into trouble either.”

She didn't dare look at him, afraid he'll say no.

“Fine,” he said. “You can call a cab whenever you're ready to leave. Take my first-aid kit if you want. Anything else?”

“No, no, nothing.” She cleared her throat. “Thanks. Again

For, uh, everything.”

Gods, why was she getting so flustered?

She packed her old clothes and some medicines he recommended for her headache, ignoring the pang of disappointment. Before she left, he passed her a scrap of paper with an address scrawled on it.

“What is this?” she asked.

“It's a centre I run with my brothers. In three weeks from now, after that Sunday, do you want to come? It's a self-defense arts centre. We could teach you a bit here and there. If you want. Totally no pressure.”

Nesta was stunned. That was exactly what she was thinking about in the shower earlier. Learn how to fight. Learn what to do. Then, payback time. She really didn't understand how he managed to read her mind. She smiled. “I'd love that.”

He grinned. She felt happy. Soon, she was going to give back suffering for all she got. Tomas was so going to pay. She's going to learn how to fight. Never again, she vowed. Never again would she be vulnerable.

taglist:

@shadowsinger07 @im-someone-i-guess @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele @heartless--aromantic @sv0430 @ddsworldofbooks @irenethaleia @sjm-things

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minahoeshi · 4 years

Text

to be yours and you, mine.

Kuroo Tetsurō x reader | just pure angst. so much angst.

warning: major character death

prelude: the end lets its presence be known before it comes around. At times, that sense of awareness feels like a blessing. But with you and Tetsurou, the reminder of what soon will come can only hurt you even further. Because mankind has never been powerful enough to do anything against so many things. We have always been weak in the face of nature. especially against the passage of time and all the things it keeps taking from us.

It's almost odd how the world changed when you realised what the moments of silence has reduced your relationship into. How, when you finally acknowledged the fact that perhaps the end of a prolonged short story is nearer than you'd rather believe, a filter seemed to slip off of the camera, along with the vibrance you never realised was raised too high. It's not like the frames suddenly are less colourful. It's just that the tinges of blue in the shadows and highlights have made themselves more obvious, like a sign waiting for you to conclude things yourself.

Maybe it's because it's the new years and new beginnings just seem so scary. Or maybe it's the ice in the air, or the meteorologist on the television announcing that it's 7°C that morning that makes the lack of warmth between you and him more unbearable. But you wake up to the silence of the world, not even the birds are around to fuss above your house. To the empty space beside you, a reminder of his message three days ago.

Tetsu(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

I'm staying with my family this new year. Okaa-san thinks I need to spend 'the end of the year and the beginning of a new one with those that made such days possible for me'. You know, her usual line to remind me of their importance. Miss you.

Let's video call on new year's eve, yeah?

received 9:26

He did call you last night. Not the video call he promised, but a voice call on Line. But you didn't answer. If he asked why, you would've told him you were with your friends in a shrine celebrating new years with prayers for a better future for one another, drinking sake, and walking the streets of Shibuya with your girls and gays and the one guy friend that everyone wonders how he ended up in the group.

It didn't hurt that he only called you once and never tried again. It didn't hurt that he didn't ask why. But fuck was it painful to hear the voicemail.

"Happy new year, Y/N san. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be there with you, I promise. I love you. So much."

It's scary and painful how his voice seemed to waver. How it was shaky and devoid of his usual timbre, a ghost of what once was a joking and rarely serious tone that took light of most situations. His voice that you loved so much, absent because maybe he knew too.

Maybe he was aware that no saving can be done to bring forth the past as if it was the present. To rebuild the broken and to remind you both of what you had all these years. To you and him, the signs couldn't be more obvious. When the world crumbles, you don't save it. You kiss it goodbye and go on to search for a new one. One that won't break with you in it. (but you know you won't search. you never do.)

You spend the next hours awake. The consciousness, unwanted. You want so much to just fall down as if the darkness can just swallow you and you'd be happier in it. In silence, you might feel better.

But you can't help the way your brain works. You bask in the reminiscing, the present disappearing before you until it's the past that owns you.

It's not the memories that grabs hold of you but him in his entirety. You cry because you will miss all that he is. The lazy tone he uses when he feels comfortable beside you on the couch. The humour he finds in everything, even in chemistry which is crazy because nothing about chemistry is comical. The messy hair he refuses to tame because he loses his identity, a piece of him, his pride and legacy when his hair looks neat. You'll miss his hand on your back when you're walking outdoors, his iced coffee with a secret ingredient that is probably not really a secret, his hugs when you feel yourself falling in the deep hole of misery, his excitement when he speaks of volleyball, his pride when he talks about his achievements, his— all of him. You'll miss all of him. Too much.

Kuroo spends the car ride thinking of you. Reminding himself to remind you of all that you must remember. To hold your hand tight for as long as he can until he can't.

He reminds himself of the things he love so much about you. Of your unequaled patience and trust in him. Of your ability to strip him of all his bad so that he can only see his good. Of your laughter when he speaks of his day as comically as possible. Of the mornings he wakes up beside you. Of your— everything. All that you are.

Because as the car nears your house, he feels himself crumble. Because he just knows what is about to come. So he must keep in him all your good and bad to be grounded. To stay long enough.

Kuroo stays in the car and stared at the door. The door that opens slowly and reveals you in your scarf and windbreaker. Beautiful. You in all your tear-stained glory, your nose and ears red. He stares as you step into the snow and approach him. He stares as you knock on the window.

And so he opens the door.

You break again the moment you see him. You wish to be strong for him. He doesn't deserve your sadness and weakness but he told you to let yourself be. That your tears are better seen than hidden. Because it helps him and you know how you are feeling. So that he doesn't have to walk around eggshells because you both expose all your vulnerability to one another.

So you fall on his knees. You dont wait for him to get out. You cry on his lap and you know he cried with you. You fall apart together. The same way you built each other to be whoever you two are today, you both break each other.

You say, Testu. Tetsu Tetsu Tetsu Tetsu. He says it's fine, he's fine. He leans and kisses your head and you cry more the same way he does as he hugs you from above. I'm sorry, you say. I should've answered your call, you say.

But I was scared. I was too scared.

And you both know. You fear the same thing. Because as Kuroo is placed on his wheelchair with your help and Kenma's who has been with you two since the very beginning. He leaves both of you because he knows that's what's best. He gives Kuroo a hug before he drives away.

He's bone-thin. Dark bags under his eyes, cheekbones too visible, lips too pale— tired. He looked more tired than three days ago, before he suddenly disappeared that day and you felt too much pain because was he gonna leave you that way? Was he not gonna be with you until the very last of everything?

You were thankful he texted you that night. Because you would've gone crazy with all your thoughts. You understood why he had to go home. His family needed him and he needed them. You couldn't be selfish.

That night, you spend hours on your bed with Kuroo. He didn't need the morphine, he tells you. He's okay. But his breathing is ragged and he's sweating. He can't move without hurting. But you don't give him painkillers because he told you so. So instead, you kiss him. You kiss him and tell him you love him. You tell him you were happiest with him. He doesn't talk much. But the last he said before you both slept was, "I love you too. More than anything and everything. I love you."

The next morning, you cry harder. This time, all by yourself. Tetsutetsutetsutetsutetsutetsu. He never responds.

You cry harder.

But at the very least, he was still holding your hand.

Tetsu(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Science is yet to prove the existence of reincarnation so instead of pinning everything on it, I'd rather appreciate this one life I spent loving you. Because there's no other way for me to have lived than to be yours and you mine. This one life is enough for the universe to understand that we are eternity, you and me. Forever.

I love you. I know you love me too.

2:09 am

You

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

5:27 am

Okaa-san - mother

Tetsu - nickname for Kuroo from his first name, Tetsuro. In Japan, cute nicknames are more common than endearments like honey or love.

Shibuya - a city or special ward in the prefecture, Tokyo.

Sake - Japanese alcohol made of rice and other ingredients.

Line - most used messaging app in Japan.

Thanks for reading!

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fic #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo #kuroo imagine #kuroo reader insert #kuroo fanfic #kuroo fic #kuroo x reader #kuroo angst #nekoma

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frenchpuppycormier · 3 years

Text

Prom Night!

(ao3)

word count: 2k

rating: T

Shoutout to @krdnvrs for being my number one fan and cheerleader on all of my random ideas, and for listening to me complain. Another thanks to @red-cape-morgana for being my glorified cheerleader ;)

They were in Midvale, working a case, when it happened.

Somehow Lex managed to lace the water supply with kryptonite, the team got wind of it, and so they went to investigate.

Lena, now an integral part of the team, tagged along.

Alex, J’onn, Brainy, and Nia went first to make sure everyone was safe and that the kryptonite wouldn’t harm anyone, while also checking to see what kind of kryptonite it was and how it would affect Kara.

Kara and Lena are staying back at the town line. Waiting patiently. Some more than others.

“Will you please stop pacing? You’re stressing me out,” Lena rubs at her temples.

Kara stops mid-step, skidding on the loose gravel, and sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m just really anxious right now, and I’m scared of what they might find. I mean, what if—Eliza lives here! I can’t just—

“Hey,” Lena interrupts by placing both hands on Kara’s forearms. “It’ll be fine. Eliza isn’t even here. She’s out of town, remember?”

Kara lets out a deep breath and nods.

“Can I—Kara, can I give you a hug?” she asks, timidly. Lena won’t openly admit it, but Kara’s the only one she openly and freely gives hugs to. Anyone else and it’s touch and go.

Kara smiles, “Duh! You don’t even have to ask, you know that.” She wrangles her arms out from Lena’s hands and wraps her own around the CEO’s shoulders, burying her face in raven hair.

Lena grips her hands tightly around the hero’s back and inhales deeply, the sweet smell of honey and lavender from the blonde's shampoo, and the hint of earth which makes Kara, Kara.

The moment was quickly disrupted by a chirping in Kara’s ear. She steps back slightly so one arm is still resting on Lena’s shoulders while the other presses the comm. “Alex?”

Lena is moderately perturbed at Alex in this moment, but doesn’t let it show. Instead, she loosens her grip and slides her hands to rest on Kara’s hips, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“You guys should head into town,” Alex supplies.

“What is it?” Kara asks while absentmindedly playing with Lena’s hair.

“Everything’s fine, but you’re gonna wanna see this for yourself.”

Kara frowns. “Okay, we’ll be there shortly.” She clears her throat and Lena eyes her warily.

“So?” Lena steps back and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Alex says she has something to show us,” Kara replies. “So,” she moved her arms in a swooping gesture, “Ready to go?”

Lena shakes her head. “No. We are not flying there.”

“Suit yourself,” Kara laughs and begins to take off. Lena stops her with a hand on the wrist before she can. “Change your mind?”

“Just promise to go slow,” Lena huffs, giving Kara permission to scoop her up bridal style.

“Yes, ma’am,” she smirks.

___

“Blue kryptonite?”

Alex nods.

“What is his endgame?”

Alex puffs her cheeks up and releases hot air. “It seems he wants to get rid of your powers. And apparently he thought starting here would be the best course of action, knowing you grew up here and you’d come this way. Fool proof plan, really.” A sudden serious look clouds over her. "And I have a feeling this is only the first step in his nefarious plans."

Kara groans, "Well, is everyone okay at least?" She puts her hands on her hips, in the classic hero pose.

"As far as we know, it doesn't have any negative effects on humans. In fact, we think it does the opposite."

"Of course!" Lena interjects from her spot. She's stayed quiet and let the sisters discuss things, until now she remembers information that could help.

"Lena?" Kara raises her eyebrows in question.

"When Lex was researching ways to hurt Superman, he discovered blue kryptonite," she rolls her eyes. "Blue kryptonite can drastically improve the health of any non-Kryptonian organism, such as livestock, crops, and humans. Continual consumption of blue kryptonite-irradiated water puts humans in a perfect state of health. I'm almost positive he's been drinking the stuff for years."

"Well, fuck," Alex huffs.

Lena shakes her head. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. It doesn't make him super-powered or anything. Actually, now that I think about it, the blue rock makes humans more prone to mental irregularities. If that's the case, it would explain a lot."

"Is there a way to counteract it?" Kara asks.

Lena sighs. "If I'm hypothesizing correctly, I'd bet my life on lead getting the job done."

Kara nods and looks to Alex. "Okay. You got all the rock bagged up then?" Alex nods. "How long until the water supply is back to normal?"

"A week? Maybe two. Just don't go drinking the water at mom's house, got it?"

"I'll stick to bottled," Kara smirks.

___

As they’re flying to Eliza's later that night, Kara notices her old high school is bustling with people and everyone is gussied up. She gasps loudly in Lena’s ear. “Lena, look!”

“What?”

“It’s prom night!” she slows down and finds a spot behind some bushes for cover. Once grounded she practically beams. “Let’s break in!"

Lena guffaws.

Kara stares at her with a gleaming twinkle in her eyes.

“Are you serious?” She asks incredulously.

Kara nods furiously like a bobble head. “Yeah, totally! I remember you telling me once how you never went to prom, and then I promised you if the opportunity ever arises I’d take you myself. And I'd dance with you.”

“You said no such thing,” Lena states, highly amused.

“Okay, well," Kara visibly flusters, "Maybe I never said that part out loud, but I still thought it in my head. And...I mean it.”

“Kara, that’s very sweet, but look at us,” she gestures between them, “I’m dressed like I’m ready for a board meeting, and you,” she glances around to make sure no one can see or hear them and whispers, “You’re Supergirl.”

Kara looks down and pouts, “Oh. Right.” It doesn’t keep her down for long though, because she speeds away and comes back in a dress before Lena can even blink.

“Wow. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Lena chuckles. “You didn’t think to grab anything for me?”

The hero frowns while looking Lena up and down with an intense gaze, causing Lena to feel immensely self-conscious. With a finger to her chin Kara says, “I think you look perfect. You’re basically wearing a suit, anyway, just one that probably costs more than anyone in that building can afford.”

Lena raises her eyebrows haughtily.

“Shall we?” Kara holds out her arm.

Lena rolls her eyes fondly, before relaxing, and hooks her arm through the blonde’s. “Alright, MacGyver, how are we doing this?”

“Easy,” Kara shrugs. “I’ll just open the door to the gym with my super strength, and sneak in the back. Piece of cake.”

“Famous last words.”

___

“Ha! Told you we could do it!” Kara exclaims as they make their way through the gym, where fairy lights are strewn about everywhere, and the ceiling is decorated with cheesy cotton drapes. Surprisingly, no one even notices the two women, and if they do they don’t care.

“The night is still young,” Lena points out.

“Oh quit being a downer,” Kara teases. As they find a secluded spot in the corner, a slow song starts to play. The lights cast a glow on Lena making her seem ethereal, and Kara gapes in awe.

"You look beautiful, Lena."

"I could say the same for you," she blushes.

“May I have this dance?” Kara playfully bends forward with one hand outstretched.

“You’re such a goober,” Lena laughs and takes her hand.

They slow dance for a while, the heat between them hanging in the air. As soon as Kara thinks about asking Lena the question that's been niggling her for the past few months, she notices a man poking around in the corner of her eye. He makes eye contact with her and begins making his way toward them. Kara panics.

“There’s a man coming our way. What do we do? He’s probably gonna kick us out!”

“Shit, I don’t know! This was your idea!” Lena hisses.

Kara thinks fast and makes a decision. A decision she never thought would happen, here in Midvale, in her high school gymnasium of all places. A decision that will inevitably change their lives forever.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Lena answers immediately, with a wistful smile plastered on her face.

Kara nods and takes a moment to compose herself. Just a tiny moment. Because they’re kind of running out of time here. Before she can second-guess herself, she takes Lena’s face in her hands and kisses her.

She kisses her like her life depends on it. She’s waited for this moment for so long and it’s finally here. At a high school prom she wasn't even invited to. The thought makes her want to laugh. But she can't, because she's kissing Lena. And Lena is kissing her back with just as much ferocity! It’s funny, she never imagined she’d be back here, years later, with the prettiest woman in the universe at her side, yet that’s what was in the cards for her.

When what feels like minutes of absolute heaven go by, Kara pulls back slightly, breathing heavy. She slowly opens her eyes and whispers, “Do you think it worked?”

“Excuse me?”

The voice startles them from their little bubble and makes the women jump apart in surprise.

"Gosh, you scared the crap outta me," Kara shudders, clutching at her heart. She gathers her wits and when she sees the man, realization slowly dawns on her. "Kenny?"

The man, presumably Kenny, frowns. "I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

"It's Kara. Kara Danvers!" she smiles with hesitancy. The gears in Kenny's head start turning and he puts his hands on his head in utter bewilderment.

"Kara!"

Being the tactile person she is, Kara envelops him in a bone crushing hug. When they pull back she asks, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm the principal," he replies bashfully. Kenny smirks and tilts his head. "What are you doing here?"

Kara blushes a deep red and clears her throat. "Um, well...I'm just visiting, actually." She adjusts her glasses awkwardly. "You know, see how everyone's doing since I left..."

"And who's this?" Kenny asks, peering behind her, effectively cutting off the inevitable ramble about to happen.

The blonde swallows. "Oh geez, where are my manners?" she bonks herself on the head and turns to Lena. Kara gently pushes her forward by the small of her back, and rests her hand there. "Lena, this is my friend Kenny from high school. Kenny, this is my....Lena..."

Lena chuckles and holds out her hand. “Lena Luthor. Nice to meet you.” His grip is firm when they shake hands.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he replies.

Kara grins after seeing her former (dead?) best friend meet her current best friend (maybe more?) chat with one another.

She explains why they’re there and that they essentially snuck in.

“I won’t tell a soul. You have my word,” Kenny winks at them. “Keep in touch, yeah?” Kara nods enthusiastically, and gives him one last hug before departing to the other end of the gym, where he sees a student spiking the punch bowl.

"So..." Lena starts, "That's the Kenny you told me about?"

Lena notices Kara's eyes crinkle and one corner of her mouth lifts up, in that cute way it does when she's thinking deeply about something. "Yeah. He died though, in my timeline." She frowns, and her eyes dart around the floor like the cracks and scratches have all the answers. "This whole universe...reset...thing is mind-boggling."

Lena reaches up and rubs softly at Kara's little crinkle with the pad of her thumb. When it disappears, she drops her hand and plays with the blonde's fingers instead. "Nothing's ever easy in our lives, is it?"

Kara hums an affirmation in response.

"You can tell me about it, if you'd like," Lena offers.

"That'd be nice," Kara smiles, then like a flip of a switch she's throwing her a flirty smirk. "But not right now," she joins their other hands together and pushes them forward and back, as if they're on the cusp of telling each other exciting news.

"No?" Lena plays along.

"Nope," she raises their hands up so Lena's rest on her shoulders, and Kara pulls her forward by the waist. "I was kinda hoping we could talk about that kiss."

"Mhmm, I was wondering if you were gonna bring that up," she inches closer so her forehead touches Kara's, and she encircles her arms around her neck, the distance between them practically nonexistent.

"I should've asked," she connects her hands on the other woman's back.

Lena shakes her head, the action causing their noses to bump. "You never have to ask to kiss me." Before Kara can properly respond, Lena connects their lips together again, shutting her up in the best way possible.

They still have a lot of things to figure out, a lot of demons to fight-both literally and figuratively-but Lena relishes in the thought that at least she has Kara.

At least they're doing it together.

After all, it is their life motto: stronger together.

#supercorp #supercorp fic rec #supercorp fic #my work #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl season 6

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overlyimmersed · 3 years

Text

Nightmares and Daydreams

A Gravity Falls AU.

Hi @verysorrytobother Stanticore anon, revealing my true identity to share this with you! I wasn’t sure how a post this long would go over as an ask, so I decided to do it this way. I hope this is ok.

I’ve been working on this for a while and I hope it goes over well enough. The artwork took me the most time.

As a car crash victim is slowly dying, her mental self panics in the mindscape. She's offered a deal to save her life. Let the game begin.

(Content warnings: Blood. Descriptions of serious injuries.)

"What..." she whispered to herself, staring at the other in disbelief.

"Yep!" he confirms, in a high-pitched, grating, inappropriately upbeat tone, "Dead as a doornail, kid!- Well technically you still have a few more seconds till you brain totally ceases to function. Better make up your mind while you still have one!"

She's still staring dumbly at him. How can he be this nonchalant about it?! A half second ago she was sitting in the front seat of the family truck, a totally routine trip to the store- she never liked trucks but her dad's a carpenter so they need the hauling space. At least it's a pretty shade of blue- and the next she's here, laying face down in a black void with this prick this- this...All Seeing Eye? He's like the Illuminati symbol, but with arms and legs and a top hat. Caution sign yellow and talking to her- or at her. Bill. Freaking. Cipher. Every time he 'speaks' he flashes with light- no mouth so does it really count as speaking? More like his voice is being projected right into her mind- ... And he's telling her that she freakin died! Can't he see how messed up this is?! Can't he sympathize at all!? Then again, it's Bill. She ought to know better.

She ought to know better. She's seen this show a hundred times, she knows nothing good comes from dealing with Cipher. But she doesn't have time to be careful, she doesn't have the luxury of weighing options.

"Tick-tock, Car Wreck!" The obnoxious voice insists again, forcing her out of her stupor, his outstretched hand now alight with blue fire.

Her face scrunches up in a loud cringe, eyes screwed shut and teeth bared, and she swings her hand till it lands solidly in his. Crazed cackling resounds as the deal is struck, but it falls to simple soundtrack as her senses try to sort out what's going on.

She'd expected the blue fire to burn, or at least feel like something, but it didn't. Instead her entire being is flung into a...whirl? Free fall? Something that makes her stomach jump into her throat, and gives her vertigo.

The sensation stops suddenly, only to be replaced by a cacophony of new perceptions. She isn't sure which strikes her first, the sounds or the smell. Shrieks of agony and terror make up the next track of this bizarre playlist, punctuated by the reek of burnt hair. When her eyes fly open to try and make sense of it all, they have no luck. The sight that meets her is a sky of surreal, swirling, bastardized ribbons of every hue, like being inside a filthy bubble. Floating strewn about the space are pockmarked asteroids, and little else.

"So what'd ya think?" The grating voice rejoins the discord, drawing her shell-shocked gaze. "Home-sweet-home, huh? Well don't worry, you won't be here for very long. A deal's a deal, Car Wreck." With that que, and a snap of his fingers, she's falling again. This time untethered and unaccompanied. It takes her a moment to realize the scream ripping though the void is coming from her own throat. Once it hits her, so does something else, and the world goes black.

She wakes some time later, maybe moments maybe days. She has no way of knowing. She pushes herself onto her hands and knees, groggy and disoriented. It takes her a moment to notice the texture under her hands and focus her vision on it. It's grass. She sits up and looks around. "oh..." she says to herself, taking in the scenery. It's lovely, a grassy, sun soaked field. The sky made of churning colors like the last place she'd been, but they're pastel and much prettier. A warm breeze brushes past her face and she takes a deep breath of it, it smells sweet and warm, heavy with the scent of growing things, and for the first time since this started she finds some peace. Peace which is quickly shattered by a familiar, grating voice.

She jumps and whirls around so quick she falls onto her butt. There, floating just inches from where her head had been, is Bill. Laughing at her of course.

"Whoops! Didn't mean to scare you there, Car Wreck!" he claims, moving through the air to look around, then turning back around to look at her. "So how do you like the new digs?"

There's a beat of silence where she just stares at him again, but quickly she shakes off the shock and tries to respond. "Uh...It's nice." She lets her eyes roam around for a second, before returning to Bill, "Where are we?"

"This is the Realm of Daydreams! Your new HQ!" he answers, floating around behind her and making a grand gesture with his arms.

She turns her head to follow him, "Daydreams? HQ?"

"Yep! This is where you'll hang out when you're not puppeting your little pawns." He turns around to look at the scenery more himself. "Kinda dull if you ask me. Maybe you can do something about that!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh you know, some pillars of anguish, an alter of unholy fire, maybe a blood fountain or a couple of-" he gestures with each suggestion, like a landscaper creating a vision, until she cuts him off.

"No I mean," she finally pushes herself to a stand, teetering a little till she finds her balance. "Pawns?"

He turns back to her, "Oh yeah, which ones do you want anyway?" he waits a beat for an answer, but she just stares back at him, clearly not following. "Ugh, our deal?"

He hadn't really told her what the deal was, just mentioned a game and a second chance. "Uhh, I don't think you-"

"Oh right, you flesh bags need everything explained to you." he groans, rolling his eye, "Alright, here's the deal. We're gonna play a little game," he holds out his hand and a little hologram like projection appears showing an aerial view of a town. "and the people of this hick town are gonna be the pieces." ten little blue stick figures appear in the center of town, each with a little symbol above it's head. "If you win, you rejoin the land of the living!" a little magenta stick figure pops into existence next to the others and they all do a little happy dance. "If I win..." suddenly the whole projection goes up in flames, and she jerks her head back instinctively, "You burn with rest of those worthless mortals!" He bursts into a fit of maniacal laughter, which actually gives her some times to recover.

After a second of shocked staring, she blinks a few times then puts on as neutral an expression as she can. "Ok. So what are the rules?"

"Simple!" he answers, cutting off his laughter "We can't directly manipulate each other's pawns, and we can't interfere with the other's powers."

"That's it?"

"Yep. Everything else is fair game"

"Ok...What are my powers?"

"Same as mine! Except you don't have to wait till someone falls asleep to get in their head."

"I see..." her eyes wander to the ground as she contemplates the information, and her hand reaches for the longest of her three necklaces to idly play with the spiked pendant. "So you can talk to them in dreams, and I can talk to them in daydreams."

"Bingo!"

She scrunches her nose a little, thinking of a few ways that could end up being annoying. "Alright, anything else I need to know?"

"Hmm, nope! That just about covers it. All that's left is to pick our pawns, I'll even let you go first!" And with that ten, glowing, blue symbols appear between them. She looks them over carefully, she knows who each symbol corresponds to- supposing the cartoon from her world is accurate. She considers the six-fingered hand, if she takes him out of Bill's control from the start that derails his whole plan as she knows it. But, then she'll have no clue what's up to at all, at least by letting Bill have the pawns she's familiar with she has a chance at guessing his moves. She reaches forward and touches the shooting star, it turns magenta and floats to hover closer to her.

"Interesting." Bill comments, though his tone doesn't sound very interested, as he makes a simple motion with his eye and the six-fingered hand settles beside him. She chooses the fish looking symbol next, and Bill's second choice in the pine tree. They go back and forth till they have five symbols each, Bill having the the six-fingered hand, the pine tree, the llama, the stitched heart, and the pentagram. While she has the shooting star, the fish, the bag of ice, the spectacles, and the question mark.

"Welp, that settles that. Nice picks you made there, lets hope they work out for ya, Car Wreck"

"Could you not call me that?" though it hardly sounds like a request.

"And what else should I call you?" Bill asks, collecting his symbols into one hand and placing the other on his...hip?

"How about my name? It's Maranwe."

"But Car Wreck fits you so much better! Just take a look!" he quips, snapping a full-length mirror into existence. Maranwe turns to look and gasps in horror. Bill breaks out into more cackling, "Well my work here is done! I'll let you get cleaned up, see ya around Car Wreck!" And with that he fades from existence.

Maranwe just stares, even as Bill disappears from 'her' realm, she can only stare at her destroyed refection. Her hair is messy- and she almost laughs that that's what her brain zeros in on first-, It's also dirty, some of the mess is actual dirt but several spots are matted with half-dry blood. Her face is in a similar condition, smeared with dirt and blood but she can see the wounds there. Scrapes and still oozing cuts, bruises forming on one cheek bone and under her eyes. Her nose isn't quite right...broken probably. Her vision skims over her whole body for a second, making note of similar injuries where tears in her clothes reveal them. It's not as bad as she would expect a car crash victim to look- "except for that" Her mind screams suddenly while all her mouth can do is gasp, as her attention lands dizzyingly on her neck. It's...purple, but also red? There's no spilled blood but it still looks ugly, and the worst part is the...bump. It's not hard to figure out that it's a misaligned bone. Without the pain to tell her she never would have noticed, her neck is broken. Very broken. How is she holding her head up right... Probably because this isn't actually a physical body. She wonders if this is what killed her, or if there's something inside, something she can't see, that did the trick.

Whatever it is, she can't be seen like this. And she really really doesn't want to look like this for her own sake. Bill said she could 'clean herself up'? How exactly... She thinks about how Bill's powers tend to work and tries to concentrate on a cleaner, less beat up mental image of herself. She lifts her hand to her cheek and grazes her finger tips across it, a trail of sparkles follow the touch and the skin underneath returns to normal. She relaxes a little, watching the disaster wipe off her face like cheap make-up. She keeps the image in her mind and closes her eyes, cupping her hands in front of herself and imagining the sparkles pooling in them. Then she splashes the sparkles over he face, like a girl in a face wash commercial, and imagines the glittering dust washing over her entire body, cleaning away the mess and injuries. And when she opens her eyes, that's exactly what's happened. Her reflection shows her whole and unwounded, even her clothes are fixed.

The next thing she does is smooth her hair down, mostly an instinct since it's still messy, and the sparkles trail after her hands, tidying the strands as if she'd just brushed them. She watches her reflection's mouth quirk up a little in a small smirk. So she can just change what she looks like by imagining it? That figures, this is a place of daydreams that's kind of how they work. She knows exactly what to do with this, she's known since she was a kid what she's change if she could. She places the backs of her hands next to her ears and flicks up, sparkles spray up with the motion and her normal human ears, turn to wolf ears the fur the same chocolate brown as her hair. Her smirk blooms into a full blown smile, and she tilts her head to get a better look at them, watching them move as she tests them. It's like they're real! Next is the tail of course, it's mostly brown, with some silver down the top and a black tip. Then she looks down, and taps the toe of each of her shoes against the ground in turn, as she does they become the compressed paws of her own design.

"That's insane..." she laughs to herself. She's actually turning herself into something else, her own made up alien species. And she just can! With the big changes out of the way she works out the details; pupil shape, fang length, and straightens out a few asymmetries and insecurities she's always had about her body- after all why not? When she's done, she can't help admiring herself a little, turning this way and that in front of the mirror, her perfect image of herself. Well- almost perfect. She snaps her fingers and in the same dusting of glitter, her shirt changes. What was before a loose grey t-shirt with the word "nope" written across it in cursive, as been replaced by a cropped sweater, banded in 3 colors; white at the top, then light blue, then dark blue. She lifts it to look at the crop top under neither, it's just plain white. She decides she doesn't like it that way, so it changes to a cropped version of the t-shirt she'd had before. With that taken care of she lifts her arm so the over-sized sleeve falls down and she can see her forearm, which is covered by a light blue arm warmer with white lace around the edges. Perfect. At least for now. She can change later if she decides she doesn't like the arm warmers.

She giggles to herself, invigorated by the makeover and the sense of control she has now. She turns from the mirror and skips a few feet across the grass, the symbols she'd chosen follow her, floating loosely like beads suspended in gel. She laughs a little as she watches them, and idly reaches for her necklace again, but this time her hand just meets the soft knit of her sweater. She'd forgotten to add them into this new look, so she just wills them into place; three different necklaces of three different lengths. Her hand finds the middle length first, the pendant is designed to spin so she plays with it while her mind starts to wander. She starts thinking of plans for winning this game, what she might say to each other 'pawns' and who to use where and how, even letter her thoughts wonder about the new life she'll have. Cipher's hologram suggested she'll stay in Gravity Falls, which would be cool but what about-

The sound of screeching tires and twisting metal cuts her thoughts off clean and she whips around to find the source of the noise, but her fear turns to confusion when she sees...nothing. She stands stock still, her mind running over only vague impressions of thoughts relating to what she just heard, until another loud sound whips her back around. This time she actually sees something, like a huge firework in the pastel oil-slick sky, accompanied by Bill's obnoxious voice echoing through the space.

"Let the game begin!"

#I was on anon at first because I have ungodly amounts of social anxiety #gravity falls #gravity falls au #NM&DD #Nightmares and Daydreams #creative writing #?#fanfiction #fanfic #gravity falls fanfiction #Bill Cypher #gravity falls OC #now I'm gonna go die of embarrassment #I don't really consider myself a writer #i'm more of the drawing sort of artist #so I hope at least the pictures are good #someone please let me know if the cryptograms are illegible in that font #I'll post a translation if they're too hard to read

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earliebirb · 4 years

Note

Hello. So about the "send me a pairing and a number and i'll write you a drabble"... These are all perfect and I kinda want to ask for every single one for stony but I don't want to be that greedy XD How about 32 - “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”. It seems perfect for Steve and Tony. Love you!

Hello! Thank you for the prompt. Sorry for the long wait, I hope you like it!

weather the storm

steve/tony, hurt/comfort, getting together, 1839 words

(32 from this list)

Everything hurts. Breathing hurts.

“I really thought we could make it, you know. We had a decent chance of making it out—”

They are stuck under the remains of a collapsed apartment building. Fortunately, the wreckage seems to provide a small cocoon for them to sit in without being crushed, with a small amount of sunlight finding its way through the cracks between the debris and into the small space they are trapped in. Not so fortunately, JARVIS’ calculation has told him that the suit has taken a considerable amount of damage and that even if it had been running optimally, there would still be no way for them to blast their way out of there without risking certain death.

“Stop talking,” Steve grunts, but how can Tony stop talking when Steve’s face has lost its natural complexion and instead has taken on a deathly pallor that makes it look like he is the one that has a piece of rebar running through his abdomen instead of Tony?

Oh, that’s right. There is another unfortunate aspect to their situation: the fact that some time during the destruction of the building, Tony has somehow managed to get himself impaled on one of the steel bars underlying the building’s structure.

“I’m fine, Steve. It’s all going to be okay,” Tony says, every word an exertion. His wound smarts with every breath.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Steve spits out angrily, his voice cracking on the last syllable as he presses his forehead to Tony’s temple, cradling the heavy weight of Tony’s suit-clad body in his arms.

Tony smiles weakly up at him as black spots appear in his vision. Just before he asked Steve to help him remove his helmet, the HUD of the suit had notified him of the fact that his vitals were failing and that without serious medical attention within two hours, he might not make it. That was maybe around half an hour ago, but he doesn’t know anymore; it’s getting harder and harder to focus on anything but the torturous pain his body is in.

He raises one of his hands, offering it up to Steve. The simple movement jostles the rebar in him and he grits his teeth at a wave of pain so intense he is on the verge of blacking out.

“Hold… my hand?” Tony asks and Steve complies readily, holding Tony’s gauntleted hand in his.

“Hey, Steve.”

Steve stays silent but Tony feels his gloved fingers tighten around his gauntlet. He lets the silence stretch out between the two of them for a few moments, listening to the sound of their harsh breathing. Absentmindedly, he admires the way the dust motes rising from the debris seem to dance under the rays of sunlight.

“You want to know a secret?”

Steve speaks his words against Tony’s hair. “I want you to stop talking.”

“I think… I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Steve stills against him, muscles locking up with tension. Tony feels drops of something warm land on his face even as Steve continues to say nothing. Steve is crying.

Tony tells Steve that he loves him and Steve’s response is to start crying. Of course, because he is Tony Stark, he manages to find a way to hurt other people even in his dying hours. Tony wasn’t going to ever let Steve know about how he felt about him but life is a funny thing full of surprises. With the prospects of him making it out of this disaster alive becoming increasingly unlikely by the second, he has found a surge of courage he doesn’t think he would have found otherwise.

“I’m sorry. For this. For everything,” Tony says breathlessly. He continues to speak even as the act of doing so renders the already exhausting task of breathing that much harder. “I know that you probably don’t want to hear this—”

“Shut up!” Steve roars, his voice hoarse. He rests his chin atop Tony’s head, just above Tony’s hairline. “If you say another word,” Steve chokes out, “I’m going to kill you myself.”

Tony falls silent at that, closing his eyes. He has told Steve the one thing he needed to tell him and now that the job is done, he feels very tired, like his bones are turning into liquid. He feels himself sink deeper into Steve’s arms and he thinks he hears the sound of Steve whispering what might be a litany of pleas into the skin of his temple.

As he lies in the arms of the man he loves, the last thing Tony thinks of before his senses are engulfed in darkness is that there are worse ways to die.

***

Tony wakes up alone in a hospital room to the sound of the steady beeping of machines.

At least, he thinks he is alone, until a voice speaks up:

“You can’t do that again.”

He startles and looks around the room before finding Steve, seated in a chair situated in the darkest corner of the room, arms crossed and eyes looking right at him.

“Steve,” Tony tries to say, but his dry throat morphs the word into a series of coughs.

Steve stands up from the chair and walks to his side, handing him a glass of water and holding the straw up to his mouth. Tony takes a few sips gratefully, letting the liquid soothe his throat.

“Thanks.” Tony sighs, leaning back against his pillow. Steve sets the glass down on the bedside table and proceeds to stare down at Tony with unblinking eyes.

“How long was I out?”

Steve continues to gaze at him wordlessly, expression unreadable.

“Steve—”

“I wasn’t going to forgive you.”

Tony blinks. “What?”

“I wasn’t going to ever forgive you if you had—” Steve breaks off abruptly. He doesn’t finish his sentence. All the while, he is still staring down at Tony with steely blue eyes. The non-expression on Steve’s face and the way he holds himself makes Tony think of a rubber band that has been stretched taut, liable to break any second.

Hearing a creak, Tony turns his head to see that Steve is gripping the metal handle bar of the hospital bed’s headboard and that the metal is giving way under the strength of his hand.

“Steve, you need to let up—”

“You can’t say you love me and then leave me alone,” Steve says. It’s like he is not hearing whatever is coming out of Tony’s mouth, like they are having two entirely separate conversations. The way Tony is still unable to discern an ounce of emotion in his voice or on his face would scare him if he didn’t have an inkling as to what kind of emotion is simmering behind Steve’s apparent stolid indifference.

It’s fear, he guesses. Cold, all-encompassing fear that numbs you to your bones. Tony remembers feeling something similar one December night twenty-something years ago, remembers hearing the words “car accident” and then nothing else. He remembers feeling nothing. No anger, no sadness, just… nothing.

“I’m sorry,” Tony says. He doesn’t say what for because there are too many things he is apologizing for. Sorry for not being better at calculating the odds. Sorry for being a constant burden for the team. Sorry for springing an unwanted love confession on Steve when he least needed or expected it. Just an endless string of apologies.

“You should be,” Steve says, still in that unsettling monotone that is so uncharacteristic of him.

“Just forget what I said.” Tony stares down at the white rumpled sheets of the hospital bed. “And… I promise to recalibrate the suit so I can perform better on the field. I’ll try my best to make sure that this kind of miscalculation won’t happen again.”

Tony nods decisively to himself before holding out a hand to Steve with his best attempt at a smile. “Now, are we good?”

Steve just stares down at Tony’s hand impassively for a few moments before looking up at Tony.

He proceeds to ignore Tony’s hand entirely, leaning down and—

Steve is kissing him.

Steve is kissing Tony, one of his hands gently cradling Tony’s cheek. His lips caress Tony’s softly, and then eagerly with increased frenzy, like he is kissing Tony with the intent to bruise his lips.

Then Tony tastes salt. At the same time, he realizes that Steve’s breath is stuttering against his lips. “I can’t— You can’t— Damn you—” Steve whispers brokenly into his mouth and that makes Tony pull back in alarm, gently pushing Steve back with a hand on his chest.

He gets the briefest look of Steve’s face—his red eyes brimming with tears, lips quivering and teeth gritted like someone withstanding torture—before the dam breaks and he watches as Steve buries his face in Tony’s chest, sobbing loudly into it like someone letting out years worth of bottled up agony. Steve’s throat sounds raw and his tears seep into the fabric of Tony’s hospital gown. Both of his hands are trembling as they clutch Tony’s arms for dear life, nails digging into Tony’s skin.

Tony feels his own eyes sting with tears, his vision blurring, because Steve sounds like he is falling apart because of Tony.

In the end, it takes quite some time for either of them to calm down. Tony and Steve end up lying together on the small bed, having carefully arranged themselves in a position that allows them to look at each other. Tony stares softly at Steve who in return is gazing intently at him, eyes still wet and face red from crying. Tony’s hand is cupping Steve’s cheek.

Steve absolutely refuses to let go of his other hand, fingers intertwined with his. He still looks upset. He also looks incredibly exhausted.

“Go to sleep,” Tony whispers, thumb methodically tracing one-way strokes across Steve’s cheekbone.

“I’m scared,” Steve rasps. His eyes remain trained on Tony, the intensity of their gaze unchanging.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Tony promises.

Steve blinks languidly. Once. Twice.

“Can you say it again?”

“Say what?”

“Say you love me again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“...Again.”

“I love you.”

Steve closes his eyes. “One more time?”

Tony smiles, closing the small distance between them to capture Steve’s lips in a tender kiss. He lingers there for a while, making it last, making sure Steve knows just how much Tony loves him.

“I love you, Steve Rogers.”

Over the next few minutes, he watches Steve drift off slowly, the fight going out of him like Tony’s admission is all the permission he needs to fall asleep. When his breathing evens out, his grip on Tony’s hand goes lax. Tony doesn’t let go.

Tony is scared, but Steve is, too.

Maybe it’s okay.

Maybe they can be terrified together.

He lies there in the quiet, listening to Steve breathe for a long, long time because he can, because he survived, and because somehow—by some stroke of miracle—Steve is in love with him, too.

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something #earl answers #user: m-e-i-c-h-a-n

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Californian Dream (Pt. 04 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

<- Previous part (03)

Next part (05) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Distance

In the morning, you tiptoe to the living room, but everything you find of Billy is a small note left on the kitchen table. He's at work and must be back by 5 or 6 pm. He said you can make something for lunch, and that he'll bring dinner. So, now that you're alone, you can't help but think. The names of those who died to keep playing back, and Gisele's is the one that comes louder. You feel bad for all the times you were mean to her, when you left her talking alone, storming away. But it's useless to feel this way now. It won't bring her back.

You're pacing around the living room, the news channel on, as they repeat the same things over and over. When you put both hands on your head, out of desperation, you feel as Billy's shirt lifts a little, exposing your thighs. And you realize you'll need clothes. And all your personal stuff. “Ame.” You mutter, going to the phone and calling home. As usual, it's Amelia who answers, and she squeals, happy to know you're fine. After telling her everything that happened and where you'll be staying, you start giving the instructions. Well, she's the one to point out what you'll need and how to cover up who you are.

The goal is to remain hidden, but you won't be stuck inside the apartment. So you need to look different, and for that, Amelia advises you to buy new clothes, normal clothes, instead of using the ones you have. And she kindly offers to buy everything you'll need and bring them over later today. She'll also bring all of your personal stuff. And money. Amelia tells you to keep some money with you, in case you need it. You're not sure what for, but you agree.

She gets here after lunch, with three huge pieces of baggage, and she helps you drag them to Billy's bedroom. Then, after you change out of Billy's shirt, she shows off the last part of her plan. Amelia wants to dye your hair and cut off a few inches. You don't think it's necessary, but she's worried about the situation, and for the sake of the woman who raised you, you let her do it. Once she's done, she helps you clean the bathroom before leaving, giving you a tight hug and asking you to keep in touch and be careful.

Then the rest of the day is pretty boring. You do give some trips to the bathroom, just to check the hair. It's nice having your natural color back, but you never thought it would be in these circumstances.

You're watching the news again, seating on the couch, when the door opens. Turning your head, you give Billy a small smile. When his eyes find you, he furrows his eyebrows. It takes a while for you to understand why the confused expression.

“Oh! It was Amelia.” Quickly, you explain, standing on your feet and noticing the pizza he brought. “I called her and she helped me get some stuff done and well...” You gesture at your hair. “I've been bleaching it since Elementary school so I bet nobody will recognize me now. Amelia is probably the only one who remembers my natural color but... This is it.” You're speaking too much, and maybe a little too fast, but you're not sure why. “What do you think?”

He squints his eyes, moving to put the pizza on the table. “I think you're already planning on going out.” Well, obviously. He can't possibly expect you to stay locked up in here.

“I was talking about the hair, but ok.” Shrugging your shoulders, you gesture at the pizza. “Can I eat it?”

“Yeah. I'll take a shower.”

“I'll wait for you then.”

“Alright.” Billy stands there for a few seconds, awkwardly, before walking to the bedroom. “The hair is good, by the way.”

“Thanks.” You mutter, smiling a little.

“(Y/N)!” He calls out suddenly, startling you. “Why is there a bag full of money on my bed?”

“Oh!” Rushing to his bedroom, you find a very confused Billy. You left the dark blue bag on the edge of the bed, and you completely forgot about it. “Amelia said I should have money with me, just in case I need it.” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh. “But, uhm, if you need or want to buy something, you can, I mean... It's fifty-seven thousand dollars.” Reaching out inside that bag, you take one of the many piles. “Every pile has one thousand... So if I fall and break a bone you can use it to pay the hospital.

“Break a bone? Should I worry about that?”

“Just trying to light up the mood.” Giggling, you glance at him. “I won't jump from the window or anything. And those are my things.” You gesture, at the pieces of luggage. “Amelia got me new clothes. Normal clothes, not the expensive ones my mother makes me buy.”

“Amelia has everything figured out.”

“She does... I'll let you do your stuff.” Nodding to yourself, you walk away. You can't help but feel a little weird with all this, and the sensation of being nothing but a bother to Billy is starting to kick in.

You patiently wait for him, watching the news again. And the content of the tape was finally made known. And it's not good. Everyone was expecting a normal rescue. They'd say how much they want, get paid, and let the kids go. But apparently, that's not how it'll be.

“(Y/N).” The mention of your name startles you, your heart skipping a beat, and that's when you notice how focused you were. “Everything alright?”

“No.” You breathe out as Billy turns the TV off. “They have thirteen kids, right? It means they want thirteen parts. They'll let the media know how much, and when they get paid, they'll release one. Whoever they want. It doesn't mean that the Whaylands will get James out if they pay up.”

“These guys know what they're doing.” Billy looks down, thoughtful. “This will create chaos between the families.”

“Yeah... I'm even glad I'm stuck here because I wouldn't want to be anywhere near that mess.” Standing from the couch, you move to the kitchen table. “Can I?”

“Sure.”

Drumming your fingers on the table, you sit down, thinking about everyone they got. Alice, James, Daniel. Melissa, Candace. Michael, Antony, and Ryan. There are more... But you can't remember. Where are they now? Are they hungry? Are they being treated nicely? You doubt it. By the violence those men showed, they're not being nice. It could've been you, who knows where now, maybe starving, terrified... They're not your friends. They're just people you know, but still, you want them all back, alive and well. You want to hug them, to talk to them again, even if it means being part of their superficial conversations. You just want to have the chance to.

“Hey,” Billy calls, and you snap out of your thoughts, noticing you were biting your lip too harshly. “You ok?”

“Yeah.” Muttering, you take a slice of pizza, taking a bite.

“What did you have for lunch?” The question comes in a careful tone. Low and steady. He knows what you're thinking about.

But you can't answer it. It only hits you now that you haven't eaten anything all day, and the pain in your stomach is only surrendering because you're eating now. So you clear your throat, giving Billy a look. “Uhm... I haven't.”

“What?” He puts his slice down, a serious face on. “Couldn't you find anything you like?”

“That's not it I... I was watching the news all day and the police did next to nothing.” Gesturing at the TV, you sigh. “And I just can't understand how those big ass vans just disappeared into the night. It's just... One of the three people who were in the hospital died. Five of those working in the kitchens died in the explosion. They found the bodies today, and I just... I just wasn't hungry...” Maybe you should just say the last part. Billy doesn't need to know how desperate you feel.

“(Y/N), you gotta eat. What would your father say if he knew–”

“Billy, I need you to stop thinking about my father.” Cutting him off, you push some of your hair back, out of your face. He has to stop doing that. You don't want to be a job, you don't want him to see you as someone he has to look after. “What? Do you think I'll give him daily reports on my routine?” Making a pause, you take another bite, now a little annoyed. When you swallow it down, you stare at Billy again. “Day one. I woke up in Billy's bed, wearing one of his shirts. He left a cute note. I spent the whole day watching the news, freaking out a little, crying a little. Them Billy came back and brought me pizza.” You make sure to sound as annoyed as you feel. “Day two...”

“Maybe you should do that.” He says, those blue eyes locked on yours. Why is he staring at you like that, so intensely? Is he doing that thing again, trying to understand you? Because he always succeeds.

“Maybe you're crazy.” Shaking your head, you focus on the pizza again, silently finishing your slice. It might be so weird for him. Billy doesn't bring girls here, and here you are, invading his private life, stealing his bed. “The bed is yours today.”

“Alright.”

“Yeah...” As you take a second slice, you remember the gala. From the moment he picked you up until right before the explosion. It was easy talking to Billy, you didn't have to think before speaking. It was... Good. Effortless. You couldn't stop smiling, and you did wish you could hang out with him more. You felt free from all the rules and regulations, finally able to be someone genuine. Not the fake version you present to people.

But now... It's weird, uncomfortable. You did expect it to change as the days go by, but it didn't.

You started to count, obviously. Day three, day four... And it only got worse, if that's even possible. He always brings something to dinner, and you eat silently on the kitchen table, only to sit on the couch for a while, as far from the other as possible, and watch TV in silence. It's like two strangers sharing a roof, and you slowly give up the idea of this being something good. It isn't. Billy doesn't want you here, that's pretty clear. And it got even more obvious after the weekend. You told him he could go out if he wanted to, but he didn't. And it was just the same. Few words were spoken, a cold distance kept. He's like someone else entirely, not the same Billy from the beach.

And on the eighth day, you had enough. So you wait for Billy to go to bed, since it's his turn, and wait an hour before tiptoeing to the phone. Amelia is the only one you can talk to, whose advice you trust. So you call the private line she keeps in her bedroom, nervously biting your lip as you wait for her to pick up.

“Hello. Who's this?”

“Ame. It's me.” You whisper, giving the hall a look before turning around, leaning against the wall. “I'm sorry to call so late but I needed to talk.”

“Of course, honey. You know you can call me whenever you need.” When you were at the house, you used to bug her even late at night when you needed help, or just to rant about something. She was always there. “What's going on?”

“Uhm... Ame, this... This isn't working. Living with Billy is... Complicated.”

“Why?” You hear something in the back, maybe a glass being put down. “I remember you were getting along just fine since the day he saved you from drowning.” She giggles. “I saw you going around with him, laughing and chatting.”

Sighing, you shake your head a little. It was different back then. You don't know how, but you know it was. “Yeah, but he just... It just...” Damn it. Of all people you know, if you had to pick someone to do this, as crazy and insane as it is, you'd pick Billy. In any other house, those mansions, you'd have to act on your best behavior, participate in those formal rites for every meal, be always polite and kind. Here, you thought it would be better. You thought you'd have fun, as you used to on those days, with funny comments and quick remarks. Now... You don't know. “Billy doesn't want me here.” You burst out, keeping your voice low.

“Why do you think that?”

“He's just... Distant. Cold.” Why does it bother you so much? The Billy you met before was the one treating you as his boss. One of the owners of one of the houses he works on. What did you think? That he'd keep the act? “I'm an inconvenience. He's just doing that because my father will pay him in the end and no, I have no idea why it bothers me so much, but I just... I thought it'd at least be nice, but it isn't so...”

“(Y/N), Billy is a guy. I'm sure he's just making sure you don't feel uncomfortable.” She speaks slow, and you start bouncing your leg nervously.

“Amelia, I don't want him to fall in love with me, ok? I just thought we'd become friends or something like that.” The words come out fast, and you're a little pissed. “Billy doesn't want me here.” You repeat.

“Why does it bother you so much?”

“Because I had a nice time with him.” You burst out, throwing your free hand in the air. “He's so different from the idiots I'm surrounded by. I don't have to fake it, I can just say the stupid things that come to my head and I never had anyone I could be myself with. And God, I was so stupid to think this would be fun, or...” Taking a deep breath, your voice fades as you collect your thoughts. Moving from the wall, you start pacing around. “I'll just look for some apartment to rent, Ame. I don't want to be–” The sentence is cut short when you see a figure standing by the end of the table. Your eyes go wide, a hand on your heart as you recognize Billy, arms crossed, his eyes on you. “Ame, I'll have to go. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Alright, honey. Try talking to Billy before making any decisions.”

“Ok. Good night.” You mumble before hanging up. Swallowing hard, you step back, leaning against the countertop. “Did you... Hear anything?” That's a stupid question, of course he did. He wouldn't be looking so pissed if he didn't. But it doesn't matter. This gotta be over soon, so you both will feel better.

“From the very beginning.” He says, tilting his head at the phone. “Heard you talking to someone and decided to check.”

“Ok.” Nodding to yourself, you look down at your feet. “I was thinking and I believe it will better if I look for some place I can rent around here. But don't worry, I won't tell my father so you'll still be paid.” As you speak, you make your way back to the couch, but Billy grabs your arm, forcing you to stop.

“So you think I don't want you here,” Billy mutters, his face lit up by the bluish light coming from the TV. He's gorgeous, so gorgeous that it's hard to say something to his face.

“That's crystal clear, Billy.” Giving your arm a pull, he let it go. “You said it yourself, you don't bring girls to your place and you were forced into having me here and I totally get that you don't like it.” Turning your back at him, you sit on the couch, eyes on the TV, but not paying any attention.

“You got it wrong.”

“I don't think so.”

“I just...” He makes a pause, so long it makes you look up at him. “I'm trying to give you some space.”

“Well, you gave me so much space it actually feels like I'm living alone.” Angrily, you move to lie down, fixing the blanket on your legs. “It'll better if I just move out.”

“Listen, I know you don't like this place.” Billy turns the TV off, and if it wasn't for the dim light coming from the street, you'd be in complete darkness. “It's tiny, your bedroom is bigger than this apartment.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Remember when the railing of your balcony was broken by a storm? I fixed it.”

You remember it. There was a huge summer storm, and a branch was ripped from a nearby tree, knocking down half of your railing. When you came back home on the next day, it was fixed. But you'd never guess it was Billy. “Thanks.”

“You don't have to thank me for doing my job.”

“Goddamn it, Billy.” Kicking the blankets away, you stand up. “Stop treating me like some rich chick! Stop putting words in my mouth and stop saying I can't thank you for doing something!” You're yelling, despite the late hour. The neighbors won't like it. “You never asked me what I think about your place so you can't possibly know if I like it or not. And yes, thank you for fixing my railing, thank you for keeping my pool clean, for cleaning the leaves, for... Hell, for sheltering me! But it's getting tiring. I thought you'd treat me like a normal girl like you did on the beach, but I get it now that it was just an act so I'll just leave.” That said, you're already in motion, not sure why. But you're unlocking the door and storming out, furious, easily finding the stairs and rushing down.

“(Y/N)!” Ignoring Billy, you don't stop, wiping some tears that escaped when you push the building doors open, the fresh night air making your breath in deeply.

You're overwhelmed. There's nothing new about the kidnappings. The criminals asked two million dollars for the first kid, but that was it. The police can't seem to get any closer to finding them, and the same goes to the many private investigators on the case. And the only good thing that came out of this shit, being with the only person on Earth with who you felt like you could be yourself, backfired. You feel stupid, deceived. Walking down the sidewalk, you roll your eyes when you hear the building doors banging, quickening your pace.

“(Y/N).”

“You wanted to give me space. Then give me some freaking space.” Your voice is cracking, which only makes you feel more like an idiot.

“Alright. I'm sorry, ok?” He raises his voice, and soon enough he's grabbing your arm. But you push him away until he let it go. “I shouldn't assume you would turn out to be like the other girls. You're not like any of the rich kids I met.”

“You don't have to do it now. You made everything very clear.”

“Would you listen?” Billy furrows his eyebrows, stepping back, a hand on his head. “I have this habit of expecting the worse, it always kept me from being caught with the guard down. But I'll admit I was wrong about you.” Avoiding his gaze, you pace around, not sure if you want to believe it. “I had a nice time with you too. That was the worst party I've ever been to, but it was good to know there's someone from their world who isn't completely rotten on the inside.”

You don't know why but the insult makes you giggle. But it's only because he's right. The fact that they're being held hostage doesn't change how some of those people are mean and rude. Their situation doesn't change who they are. And, being born into what Billy called ‘their world’, made you see the worst side of everyone. Money corrupts weak minds, you've seen it. The more they have, the more they want.

“Fine then...” Finally turning to face him, you sigh. “What now?”

Billy reaches out his hand, and you look at it, not moving yet. “First, let's get inside. You're in pajamas in the middle of the sidewalk.”

That makes you laugh, looking down and taking in the leggings and the baggy shirt you're wearing which leaves one of your shoulders exposed. “My mother would literally squeal if she saw me now.”

“She doesn't have to know.” That makes you smile even more, and you feel like you just got a glimpse of the Billy you were with at the beach. So you take his hand, breathing in, and letting him guide you back inside.

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy imagine #billy hargrove imagine #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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n7inky-fanfics · 3 years

Text

A Krogan Comes of Age and Shit Hits Hard

CW: PTSD & SH

Pressing the keystone for the third time sends a jolt of dread straight through her body. The ground shakes beneath her feet in an all too familiar way, and in seconds it's there in front of her. A Thresher Maw. Shit! "Take cover!" She screams. She dives behind a column and her companions follow suit just in time to narrowly miss being hit by a spray of acid. Shit, shit, shit! Her breath is raw and frantic, and her head is spinning. For just a moment, she's not on Tuchanka anymore. Instead, she's on Akuze, hiding behind a rock while a maw sprays it's horrible acid at her. She's all alone and terrified and trying desperately to survive long enough to be rescued.

Then, she's snaps back into reality. Garrus is shouting to her "Shepard! Shepard, it's your call! What do you want to do?"

"We need to spread out. Grunt go left. Garrus go right. I'll take center. We need to take turns firing at it. When it starts turning to you, dive behind cover and wait for your turn again. Whatever you do, do not get hit by that acid! When it goes under, take the chance to reposition, reload, and apply medi-gel as needed. Go!"

She rolls out of cover and takes the first shots, firing continuously at it's face until diving behind a pillar at the last second. In that sane moment, Grunt picks it up, screaming as he shoots. It turns to face him and he barely makes it back to cover before Garrus is shooting, causing it to again turn. They continue like this, the three of them taking turns firing, keeping it busy and taking shots at apparent weak points. Finally, the maw shrieks one last time and falls to the ground, dead. Shepard puts her hands to her knees, panting her way through a wave of nausea.

All she wants is to go back to her cabin and shower away the smell of acid when Uvnek shows up, making snide comments that she's just not in the mood to take today. When he opens fire, she doesn't hesitate to return the favor and soon Clan Urdnot is down a few more Krogan. Sorry, Wrex.

After all is said and done, she finally returns to her ship. Garrus has been watching her closely since the maw, trying to see how badly it's shaken her. The last thing she wants right now is to open up in front of someone else. Not now, not with so many things causing her pain and worry. Opening the floodgates is a bad idea. To avoid his worried gaze, she excused herself immediately to her quarters.

As soon as the elevator stops on her level, she's tearing off pieces of her armor. She leaves it all dumped in a pile outside the door and rushes into the shower, still wearing her under armor. The smell of maw acid follows her. She peels off the wet clothes and scrubs them clean with the scented soap Cerberus left for her. She scrubs herself clean, too. Still, all she can smell is maw acid. She scrubs her skin harder and with more vigor, trying her best to eliminate every bit of that stench. Her skin, which is still thin and healing in some areas, breaks underneath her force, revealing cybernetic lights underneath her forearms. Blood pools in the wounds. Despite all that scrubbing, the stench is still there. This stupid body that isn't even fully hers won't let go of the smell.

"Damn it!" She screams so loudly her voice immediately goes raw. Her biotics flare blue around her fist and she punches the wall of the shower, leaving a massive dent. "Damn it" She cries again, running her fingers through her hair and sliding down to the shower floor. Her body shakes violently as she sobs. Her mind leaves this place, bringing her back to Akuze. She watches her friends die again. She watches herself flee the maws and scramble up a hill, only to fall and break several bones. She hears the crunch of her ankle shatter, feels the heat of the acid spraying the rock that saved her life. She hears herself weakly repeat the word "maws" over and over again in a desperate attempt to warn her rescuers of the danger ahead. Eventually, she finds herself back in her shower, and she becomes aware of the pain in her arms and the exhaustion throughout her body.

She pulls herself to her feet and turns off the shower, watching the last of the pink water run down the drain. She wraps herself in her towel and grabs a spare to help slow the bleeding at her forearms. "EDI, can you please discreetly send Dr. Chakwas up here with an injury kit?"

"Of course, Commander Shepard."

When Dr. Chakwas enters she quietly gets to work on Shepard's injuries. She applies medi-gel and covers each forearm with gauze. Eventually, she inhales deeply and asks "Commander, how did this happen?"

"I guess I scrubbed too hard in the shower." She shrugs. "Thank you for helping."

"I'm glad I could help, but Commander... be careful, please. You can talk to me if you ever need anything. Just keep in mind that your body is still healing, and your mind is, too. Be kind to yourself."

Shepard nods. "Thank you. Goodnight, Dr. Chakwas."

"Goodnight, Commander." She packs her kit and exits, leaving Shepard alone to get dressed and clean up.

After some cleanup, EDI says "Commander, Garrus is here. He would like to come in."

"Let him in, EDI. Thanks."

Garrus enters with a bottle of alcohol for Shepard and one for him. "Care for a drink?"

"Hell yeah." Shepard smiles, taking the bottle out of his hand and guiding him to sit with her on the couch. She cracks open her bottle and takes a great swig straight from it. "Long day."

"I'll say. Didn't know the Krogan had a coming of age ritual, or that it is so brutal. You'll be fending off Krogan suitors for years to come." He takes a sip and laughs.

"Yeah, that's what I get for killing a Thresher Maw on foot." She gulps down some more booze before continuing. "I saw you looking when we got back."

"I wasn't going to say anything-"

"Until you got me alone and comfortable enough to talk. Like right now."

"Okay, okay. You've got me. I'm just worried about you, as your friend."

"Hey, I kept it together just fine."

"You sure did, Shep. But noe there's nothing to keep it together for. Speaking of, what happened to your arms?"

"Thin skin and a hot shower don't mix. One of the many disadvantages of being recently resurrected and woken up still incomplete." She chuckles bitterly and chugs more of her alcohol.

"I have to admit, it was a shock, seeing you barreling down that bridge on Omega. I can't imagine how you feel." He places a hand on hers and gently looks her in the eyes. "I just want you to know that you're not alone. We're here for you. Joker, Chakwas, and I. We're here."

"Thanks, Garrus. Now, enough of the mushy stuff. Let's get drunk off our asses and laugh at stupid shit."

"Sounds good to me."

#fanfic #mass effect #commander shepard #female shepard #shepard #garrus vakarian #garrus and shepard and best friends forever #garrus is my bestie #Shepard's comfort turian

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hookedonapirate · 4 years

Text

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cabin on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: Many thanks go to @ultraluckycatnd for her wonderful beta-ing skills and @onceuponaprincessworld as always for her encouragement and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

Posting this a day early because it's my day off. I have the next chapter done, and in the meantime, I'll be working on The Princess and Her Sultan for those who have been patiently waiting and because I miss writing for that universe.

I have to warn you, this chapter is a bit absurd lol, but it's fun, I promise. And the end of the chapter will give you a hint for what's to come in the next chapter.

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1 I Ch 2 I Ch 3 I Ch 4

Also available on: AO3 I FF.N

Chapter 6

Hans forces a tight smile on his face and hesitantly shakes Killian’s hand, obviously embarrassed he’d invited her to his hotel room. His features contort in pain as if Killian is gripping his hand a little too tightly.

Killian loosens his grip, apology flickering over his face. “Sorry, mate, sometimes I forget my own strength. I once tapped a bloke in the nose and broke several of his nasal bones.”

Unmistakable fear shows in Hans’ eyes and he quickly rips his hand from Killian’s tight clutch and spins around on his stool, returning to his drink and chugs it down.

Emma is still recovering from the initial shock of Killian coming over to… what, rescue her? Or stake his claim even though she’s not his to claim? She’s not entirely sure, but she plays along, flashing a sarcastic smile. “These heels are killing my feet. I had to sit down.”

Killian moves behind her and places both hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently as he sweetly kisses her temple. Her entire skin warms from his touch. “Well, how about I give you a good foot rub when we get home, hmm?” he murmurs in her ear loud enough for Hans to hear as Killian kneads his fingers into her shoulders.

Emma has to swallow the moan rising in her throat as his decadent, silky voice penetrates her ear and his firm hands give her a momentary dose of heaven.

Holy fuck.

He’s not even doing anything to her, and she’s completely turned on. She’s not imagining his hands on her achy feet, giving her a good, thorough rubdown. Certainly not. “Mmmm, that sounds amazing, babe.”

He grins against her earlobe, causing a shiver to skate down her spine. When he removes his hands from her shoulders and extends one to her, she feels the loss of his warmth. “Until then, are your feet rested enough to dance?”

Emma slips her hand in his, interlaces their fingers and stands up, grinning from ear to ear. “I thought you'd never ask. Lead the way.”

She looks over at Hans to catch his reaction as they walk past him, holding hands. Even from behind, she can tell he’s sulking.

When she realizes Killian is actually leading her to the dance floor, panic rises in her chest, and she tugs on his hand to stop him. “Wait, are we actually dancing?”

Killian turns his head around to look past her and nods. “Aye, love. Hans still has his eyes on us.” His jaw twitches as he shoots daggers at him. “Or rather, his eyes are still on you. So it’s best we keep up the ruse.” He moves again, pulling her through the crowd.

“But I don’t know how to dance,” she confesses, slightly ashamed. Her cousins took dance classes when they were younger and loved dancing but Emma mostly stuck to her books and simply listened to music rather than danced to it.

When they reach an appropriate spot on the dance floor, Killian stops and pulls her to him, placing her free hand on his shoulder and his open palm on her back. “There’s only one rule, love.” His eyes lift from their joined hands, and a breath escapes her when his face is only inches away, those baby blues boring into hers. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

Emma’s heart flutters as their bodies are pressed closely together. A hint of a smile curves her lips as she follows his lead, and soon they’re moving with the rhythm of the music like they’re at a fancy royal ball. But somehow she manages to replace her smile with a small scowl. “I didn’t need a dashing rescue, you know. I can take care of myself.”

He smirks knowingly. “I don’t doubt that, love, but I was saving you from getting scolded by the bride for causing a scene at her wedding.”

Emma wrinkles her brows in confusion. “Causing a scene? What scene?”

“Oh, come on, Emma, you were about two seconds away from giving that bloke a bloody nose.”

“I was not,” she argues defensively.

He lifts both brows. “Oh really? Because it sounded like he was inviting you back to his hotel room. If I were you, I would’ve kicked him in the bollocks.”

“With the way you were staring at him and had that death grip on his hand, I’m surprised you didn’t. Talk about causing a scene,” she scoffs. “By the way, a nose only has two bones, not several.”

“I know that, but judging by the scared shitless look on his face, he either didn’t know or didn't care,” Killian chuckles.

She tilts her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him. “You weren’t jealous of him, were you?”

He almost laughs. “Jealous of that wanker? In order to be jealous, I’d have to be threatened by him. But he’s not capable of snagging someone of your caliber.”

Emma’s eyes widen in bemusement. “Someone of my caliber? And what caliber might that be?”

“I told you, love, you’re the prettiest surgeon I’ve ever met.” He leans closer to whisper in her ear. “And you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

Her face flushes as she cocks a brow. “So you’re saying you are capable?”

Blush paints his cheeks, his lips giving into a smirk. “A man can dream, can’t he?”

She doesn’t comment, and instead just stares into his eyes, which she’s beginning to think is a monumental mistake because she soon gets lost in those forget-me-not blues. Everything else around them disappears as they move across the dance floor, and all she can see is this gorgeous man who seems to be just as intrigued by her as she is by him. “Thank you,” she manages in a breathy whisper, her eyes still locked with his.

His pointy ears actually perk up. “What was that? I don’t believe I heard you right because it sounded like you were actually thanking me instead of yelling at me.”

She laughs. “That's because I was. You were right, I was two seconds from either punching Hans in the nose or giving him a swift kick in the balls. So thank you for stepping in... and for saving me from that asshole.”

He chuckles and lifts his hand to stroke her cheek. “You’re very welcome, love.”

The song ends, and the DJ plays something slow, but Emma has to admit she’s not ready to let him go yet. And she can tell he feels the same. It’s written all over his face. Which is confirmed when he releases her hand and wraps both arms around her waist. She curls her hands around the back of his neck and is so close to him, she can feel his heart beating against hers. She has to admit, he is very charming. Any woman would be a fool not to notice. Guilt stabs her when she recalls the mean things she’d said to him earlier, which definitely weren’t true. “I’m sorry for what I said before about a woman having to be either naive or desperate to fall for your charm.”

To that, he pulls back slightly, astounded by her apology. Then his brows furrow. “Did the bartender spike your drink?”

She giggles in his arms. “No, it was just… it was harsh… what I said.”

He smiles warmly. “No need to apologize. I came onto you a little too strongly.”

She scoffs playfully. “A little?”

He blushes, his smile widening. “Okay, a lot too strongly.”

“Not as strongly as Hans,” she points out.

“That’s true. Now there’s a guy you’d have to be either naïve and desperate to date.”

Emma nods in wholehearted agreement.

Killian breaks their trance to look over her shoulder. He smirks and whispers in her ear. “Don’t look now but we have an audience.”

Emma glances behind her, seeing Anna, Elsa and Ingrid staring at them and smiling, obviously enjoying the show; they might as well be watching a rom-com while munching on popcorn from one of those giant movie theater tubs.

“I told you not to look,” he chuckles.

She turns her head to face him again and laughs. “I’m glad we could entertain them.”

“Aye. It’s not even our wedding and yet we seem to be the stars of the show for the moment.”

She nods and stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out how they hadn’t met before. She’s heard about him, and he used to live in the same town as her, but somehow they had never crossed paths.

“What, love?” he inquires, noticing her staring at him thoughtfully.

She shakes her head. “Nothing, you’re just… you’re a mystery to me. I can’t figure you out.”

He cocks a brow, intrigued by her statement. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you act all cocky and smug, yet the way you were dancing with Camila was…”

“Was what?” he asks when she doesn’t finish her sentence.

“It was freaking adorable,” she admits with a smile. “You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you were just being you.”

He shrugs. “I’m good with kids. What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“You seem so confident in your own skin, yet I look into your eyes and see someone who’s emotionally armored. Like you’re trying to protect yourself from something. Perhaps someone?”

“Oh really? You can see that about me?” she asks with an amused grin.

“You’re somewhat of an open book,” he says with a confident smirk.

“Or maybe you’ve just heard my back story.”

He chuckles. “You caught me.” Killian takes her hands and steps back, spinning her around and dipping her. She loses a breath as she looks up into his eyes. “I’ve heard we’re opposites, but we’re actually not so different, you and I.” He brings her back up and draws her into his arms again.

“Oh? And how’s that?”

“I grew up without parents as well.”

Emma’s heart tightens when his eyes darken with sorrow. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says sincerely. “But how does that make us similar?”

“Because we both know far too much what it’s like to be alone.”

She knows he’s not only referring to losing his parents but also his brother. She wants to argue and tell him she’s not alone, but who is she kidding? She lost one of her few friends, and the only guy who’s confessed his affection for her is a psychotic killer. Well, she can’t say he’s the only guy because while Killian hasn’t announced he has a crush on her through an anonymous card, she can see how attracted he is to her. She can see it in his eyes. In fact, she wonders if she laid one on him, would he kiss her back?

Emma’s eyes fall to his lips as she ponders the thought. Her gaze flickers back to his, and she loses a breath when she catches him staring at her lips. She wonders what his mouth tastes like, wonders what it would hurt if she kissed him just once. Her eyes return to his mouth and she leans in, aching to feel those pretty lips pressed against hers.

A drum roll draws their attention to the center of the room, and they separate, looking to see what’s going on. They were so lost in their own little world and forgot they were at a wedding.

Anna prepares to toss her bouquet to a group of eager bachelorettes who shout and jostle for the best position to catch it. Emma wants no part in the bouquet toss, but Elsa seems to disagree when she grabs Emma’s hand and pulls her toward the group.

“Come on, Em, you’re single too!”

When Elsa releases her hand, Emma slinks to the back of the group and can’t wait for this to be over with. She looks over at Killian who’s gazing back at her longingly, and she can’t believe she almost kissed him. Well, she can—he’s fucking gorgeous—but at her cousin’s wedding? In front of all the guests? What was she thinking?

Anna tosses the bouquet behind her, and all the bachelorettes—except for Emma—spring for it. But Anna's throw is much stronger than expected and the bouquet goes far above their heads, aiming directly at Emma, and ends up in her hands after she instinctively catches it.

Damn it.

Emma holds it up, forcing a smile as the other ladies scream in excitement. She glances at Killian, who is laughing with Kristoff and drinking a glass of what she assumes is rum based on the color and what he'd ordered prior. Her eyes move to Anna who squeezes her into a hug.

Next, a chair is placed in the center of the room and the single men are called to gather around as Anna sits down, grinning from ear to ear. Emma stands off to the side, her eyes dancing between Killian and the newlyweds. Suddenly she’s nervous again, her heart pounding erratically against her breastbone, and she forces herself to look away from him to give her attention to the bride and groom.

Kristoff gets on all fours and pushes back Anna's skirt, his hand moving up her leg before his head disappears under her dress. Anna is squealing and blushing profusely, the crowd erupting with giggles and chants of encouragement. In a quick motion, Kristoff is out from under her skirts, his teeth pulling the frilly white garter down her leg and over her heel. When he stands up, he slingshots the garter over his shoulder toward the bachelors, and while the men aren’t as enthusiastic as the ladies were, Hans springs for it.

But when he misses it and falls to the floor, the man behind him—who of course happens to be Killian—lifts the garter into the air, grinning like an idiot as everyone cheers. His eyes find Emma’s through the crowd and he tosses her a wink as he twirls the garter belt around his finger. She responds with an eye roll and smiles at him, her cheeks warming with blush.

The next thing she knows, Emma is being prompted to sit on the chair as she holds onto the bouquet, and Killian still has that stupid grin on his face as he makes his way to her, holding up the garter belt. Emma bites her bottom lip, anticipation coiled in her gut.

The DJ plays Pour Some Sugar On Me as Killian circles around her like an animal circling its prey, eagerly awaiting its meal. When he’s behind her, he bends over to whisper in her ear. “I have to warn you, love, I’m a biter, too.”

Emma gulps, quite certain she knows his meaning.

Killian appears in front of her, and as he kneels on the floor, she extends her right foot to him, her heart suddenly pounding in her ear. She’s relieved when he uses his hands to pull it over her stiletto, and her skin tingles when she feels his fingertips on her ankle. Then he steals the air from her lungs when he gets on all fours, takes the lace of the garter between his teeth and starts dragging it up her leg with his mouth. Emma’s cheeks are on fire so she briefly buries her face in her hands, laughing in embarrassment as everyone whistles and screams and snaps photos. But the sounds and flashing lights are quickly drowned out because the man who’s moving up her leg with his lips and warm breath brushing her skin demands all of her attention.

Fuck.

She clenches her thighs together, trying not to envision his face in her lap for other reasons. He gets the garter belt past her knee, but then it gets snagged by her dress. So, with both hands, he pushes up the offending material and moves his face to the side of her outer thigh for a better angle, his hand brushing her other leg as he brings it back to the floor to use only his mouth again. She can’t imagine what this might look like to the guests. Well, she can, and she hopes the young ones aren’t watching. She can’t seem to take her eyes off Killian’s to check though.

The garter gets caught again, so he lifts her dress once more using his hands. His face inches closer to where she is definitely imagining him to be right now and with one final drag, he gets the garter where he wants it—mid-thigh—and backs away, taking all of his warmth and intoxicating scent with him. All the men are cheering for him, and he grins and blushes, his eyes locked with hers.

~*~

Killian hadn't meant to take it that far. When he caught the garter belt, he hadn’t planned on using his teeth—he was certainly envisioning it—but he knew it was definitely too much. If he weren’t working on the case and if she weren’t a suspect, and they were just two guests at the wedding, he would still be intrigued by her. He would still be attracted to her. And yes, then he wouldn’t have thought twice about using his teeth. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. But when she sat in the chair, biting her bottom lip, her eyes glinting with anticipation as she gazed over at him, he almost lost himself and consequently threw all rational thinking out the window.

When he’d whispered in her ear, he’d seen her flush and heard her gasp. When he’d knelt down in front of her, he’d witnessed those luminous green eyes sparkle, those pupils dilate as she offered her foot to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of her. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist using his mouth to drag that dainty piece of lace up her leg. Every inch of her was so extremely sexy, even her unpainted toenails were sexy, he had to use all the willpower in him to not touch her. And when he accidentally grazed his hand over her leg after he’d pushed the skirt of her dress out of the way, his heart rate sped up. But somehow he’d managed to place the garter belt around her thigh without completely molesting her.

The first part of his plan had been to crack open her shell, make her feel more comfortable with him, and now he’s afraid he’s screwed that up. And David of course was quick to point that out. While Emma was surrounded by her cousins and other females, probably commenting on Killian’s performance, David was pulling him outside and giving him an earful about how he should’ve let someone else catch the garter belt and how he definitely shouldn’t have used his mouth. David was so furious, Killian was sure he would send him back to Port Lavaca, but Killian assured him his behavior wouldn’t affect the second part of his plan. In fact, it would probably make it even more possible. David muttered a “You better hope so,” before storming back inside, pouting.

Killian downs his fourth glass of apple juice as he gazes across the room, his eyes connecting with hers. She blushes and looks away as she’s chatting with Elsa. He’s pretty sure they’re talking about him if the way they keep glancing over his way is any indication. He would definitely put his money on it.

~*~

“Okay, spill it, Emma. And don’t leave anything out,” Anna encourages with a big, toothy grin, her eyes glinting with intrigue.

Emma's eyebrows furrow. “Spill what?”

“Don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She looks across the room, and Emma follows her gaze, seeing Killian on the other end of it as he's drinking another glass of rum.

“You mean, Killian? What about him?”

Anna sighs dramatically and looks like she's about to burst.

“Is it true, you two are a couple?”

That question was from Elsa, who's just as eager as her sister to expunge the juicy details. Well, maybe not quite as eager, but still very interested.

“No, of course not,” Emma answers, her eyes wide with shock. “We just met.”

Anna’s eyebrows are knitted in confusion. “But my husband said Killian was your boyfriend.” Anna blushes and giggles. “Oh my God, it feels good to finally be able to call him that! My husband, I mean,” she clarifies, as though they didn’t already know who she meant. “But back to Killian, why did Hans yell at my husband for not telling him you were already taken?”

Emma frowns at the mention of that creep. “Oh that. Killian told him he was my boyfriend because he saw Hans making me uncomfortable. He was trying to save me from punching Hans in the face and ruining your wedding.”

“Awwwww, that’s so sweet,” both cousins gush.

“By the way, who invited Hans?” Emma demands sharply. “He invited me to his hotel room, and before that, I made it very clear I didn't even want to engage in conversation with him.”

Anna’s eyes go wild. “He did what?!” she gasps. “Oh no, that is not okay. I told Kristoff we never should have invited him.” Fueled with anger, she spins around, lifts her skirts from the floor and marches over to Kristoff, who’s chatting with the groomsmen.

“Anna, wait, I don’t want to make a big deal about it,” Emma calls after her, but her auburn-haired cousin ignores her and continues her trek. Emma sighs and turns to look at Elsa who’s always been the calm, rational one of the two sisters. At any rate, she can’t say she’d be sad to see Hans kicked out.

“I’m so sorry about Hans. He’s such a creep,” Elsa comments before sipping her punch.

Emma dismisses Elsa’s words with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” A slow smirk pulls at her lips. “So tell me, what exactly is going on with you and Killian? And don’t you dare say 'nothing'. He just used his mouth to get the garter belt on you when he could’ve easily used his hands. And you were…”

“I was what?” Emma asks, trying to contain the smile threatening her lips.

“You were pretty into it,” she teases, swatting Emma's shoulder.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Okay, maybe he's a little cute, but as I said, we just met. I know nothing about him, except that he’s cocky and a compulsive flirt.”

Elsa nods in agreement. “You’re not wrong about that, he can be cocky but in a charming, boyish sort of way. And yes, he can be a bit of a flirt, but he’s mostly bark and no bite.” She laughs at her own remark. “Okay, well as we all saw, he is a little bit of a biter.”

Emma flushes at the comment and wonders if he’s a biter in the sack because she definitely wouldn’t mind it if he were. Not that she plans on getting him in the sack. Because she definitely doesn't. She snaps her eyes shut briefly, chastising herself for having those thoughts.

“But don’t worry, I won’t badger you about him.”

“Thank you,” Emma murmurs before imbibing her water. She thinks about it for a moment though. Elsa knows Killian pretty well, so this might be an opportunity to find out whether she's wasting her time on him or not. She wants to say she’s not even considering the possibility of dating him, or anyone for that matter, but Elsa can easily squash any or all of Emma’s musings about the man. “So, tell me…” Emma gnaws on her bottom lip, deciding on the right question.

Based on Elsa's knowing smile, she seems to be onto her. “Yes?”

“Is Killian a good guy? I mean honestly? You know I don’t date because I have my trust issues. So am I just wasting my time by lowering my guard around him or—”

“He’s a great guy, Emma. I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you about that. I’ve spent some time with him, and we were pretty close before Liam died. He can be a little rough around the edges and hot-headed at times, but he’s honest, has a good heart and can be very sweet. We had a rough patch for a while but now I hope we can be close again. And I know it’s difficult for you to open up, Emma, but you can’t keep people out forever. Besides when is the last time you’ve gone on a date and just had some good old-fashioned fun? You work so damn much, I bet you can’t even remember.”

Guilt rises in Emma’s cheeks, and she nods, considering Elsa’s words. “You’re right. It’s been far too long since I've been with a guy. But he hasn’t even asked me out. How do I know he’s even interested?” She already knows how ridiculous the question sounds when she asks it.

Elsa lifts a brow that says, really, Emma? “With the way he was dancing with you, giving you those doe eyes and the way he put that garter belt on you, do you really need any more proof that he’s completely into you?”

Emma sighs. “But how do I know he doesn't act like that around every woman he meets?”

“He doesn't, only with women he's interested in. And that's rare for him. He caught the garter at mine and Liam’s wedding, but he didn’t use his teeth, and the bachelorette was much more flirty than he is with you. It was more of an obligation for him then,” Elsa ends the statement with a smirk. “But with you, I could tell—hell everyone in the room could tell he was into you.”

Emma laughs, her cheeks flooding with blush. “Okay, okay, I get your point. So... I should just ask him out then?”

Elsa’s face lights up in excitement. “Yes, you should!”

Emma inhales a deep breath, her heart pounding at the possibility of approaching him. She doesn’t really have a plan yet, but maybe it’s better to just wing it. No, on second thought, she has to have a plan. “Women can ask men out, right?”

“Are you kidding? Yes, they can! Go for it, Em,” she chants encouragingly.

Okay, here goes nothing.

Emma turns around and straightens her shoulders, determined to march over to Killian. Instead, she freezes, her eyes widening in surprise when he’s standing in front of her with a drink in his hand. His hair is carelessly disheveled, his eyes are a dull shade of blue and he’s still wearing his jacket, but his tie is hanging loosely around his neck and his dress shirt is halfway unbuttoned, allowing a patch of dark chest hair to poke out. He's obviously been drinking a little too much. But he still looks delicious.

“Hi there, love,” he greets with a smirk, his words slurred. He stumbles forward and Emma grabs onto him and catches a whiff of him. Okay, he’s been drinking way too much.

Her eyes sting from the smell of rum as she helps over to the nearest chair. “Easy tiger, I think you’ve had too much to drink.” As she helps him sit in the chair, she glances at Elsa, her cousin’s features donning a mixture of concern and apology.

“He doesn’t normally drink this much.”

Emma looks around, seeing the kids on the other side of the room playing and running around.

“We should probably get him home. I don’t want Camila or his nephews to see him like this,” Elsa says in a worried tone.

“I’m fine, really.” Killian lazily waves off her words and tries to stand, but almost falls over again before Elsa and Emma catch him.

“I guess I should take him home. Will you watch Camila while I’m gone?” Elsa asks her.

“Why don’t I just take him?” Emma suggests. “You should stay and spend time with your sister before she goes off on her honeymoon.”

“But you don’t have your car with you,” Elsa points out.

“Did he drive here himself?”

“Yeah, he came in his truck.”

“Okay, so I can just drive him home in his vehicle and catch an Uber home. Where’s he staying?”

Elsa shakes her head. “I’m not sure. A motel I think.”

Emma kneels in front of him like she’s speaking to a child. “Where are you staying, Killian?”

“Wherever you want me to stay,” he drawls with a cheeky grin.

Emma rolls her eyes and reaches into the inside of his suit jacket, searching for his wallet.

He smirks. “If you wanted to feel me up, all you had to do was ask.”

Emma can’t help but blush, his face inches from hers as she grabs his wallet. God, he’s wasted. Rifling through his wallet, she finds a key card from Pinn Road Inn, which is on the other side of town.

She informs Ingrid what’s going on, and after she hugs the newlyweds and wishes them a fantastic honeymoon, she and Elsa help Killian to his truck and buckle him up in the passenger seat. Elsa apologizes profusely as though she’s responsible for her brother-in-law, but Emma waves off her words and hugs her goodbye. She promises to have lunch with her and Anna after the honeymoon and climbs into the truck.

The drive to the motel is mostly silent until Killian suddenly starts cursing like a sailor. She looks over to see him pulling at a thread that's hanging from the cuff of his jacket.

“Don’t pull at it, you’ll ruin the jacket,” Emma warns, returning her eyes to the road. “Just take it back to the haberdashery you got it from.”

“Royal tuxedos, my arse. More like royal crap,” he bleats, reclining in his seat to reach into his pants pocket.

Too late.

Glancing over at him, she sees him using a Stanely knife to cut off the string. Her eyes widen in horror. “Don't do that, you'll—”

Killian’s groaning in pain, his left hand is covered in blood and the blood is dripping all over his suit.

“...cut yourself,” she finishes with a sigh.

A/N: So you probably have a lot of questions about what exactly is up Killian's sleeve, but I promise that will be covered in the next chapter. And yes, I couldn't make either Emma or Killian a doctor without injuring the other one at least once and having some doctor/patient scenes. I promise Killian will be in good hands though :-)

@itsfabianadocarmo @snowbellewells @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms @teamhook @xhookswenchx @xsajx @julesep3026 @hookedmom @biefaless @cluttermind @yasbio2015 @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @harshini01 @noensnaringnet @xarandomdreamx @onceuponaprincessworld @annastasiarinaldiva @royalswan @brustudyblog @officerrogers @gingerchangeling @melly326 @singersdd @mzbossyboots @unworried-corsair @iamemmaswanjones @authorarsinoe @kingofmyheart14 @nightskylover @jamif @resident-of-storybrooke @iam2307 @winterbaby89 @chinawoodfan @mormonkryptonite @ultraluckycatnd @captainswan-shipper88 @killianswanjones @bethdacattfm @andiirivera

#cs ff #captain swan #beyond a reasonable doubt #my fic

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consumedkings-archive · 4 years

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I gotta! 10 and 55 for John and Elliot.

(Don't worry I'll help you avoid)

HMMM YES THIS IS SO LATE I’M SORRY. so as u know i spent about 24 hours agonizing over what to do with this........... i love you dearly w/ all my heart so i’m sorry in advance for this. (❁´◡`❁)

john/ell + “things you said that made me feel like shit” + “things you said under your breath” ~ 2.5k words, no warnings! they get a lil frisky for like .000003 seconds but mostly the rating would be for elliot’s mouth. a sequel to this blurb! which makes it pre/no cult-au and christmastime.

send me a prompt + a couple and i’ll procrastinate with a oneshot or blurb!

“I knew you missed me.”

Elliot was severely regretting having uttered the words at all. Among other things, admitting to John Seed that she missed his presence anytime, anywhere, was close to a capital offense against her person—and surpassed only, she thought, by admitting that she loved him, regardless of she said it in the dark of the bedroom, half-asleep, or if she said it in the bright light of day.

John flashed his most charming grin and leaned in to kiss her; she tilted her head out of his reach, feeling the spite welling up inside of her. It was all fun and well when John liked it, wasn’t it? And that was the most frustrating part about it all—that he seemed to have no trouble breezing in and out as he pleased.

So instead of relenting to sweetness, she snipped out, “It’s nice to know I mean it, isn’t it?”

He paused and cocked his head at her inquisitively. After a moment, he said, “This feels like a mistake to ask—”

“It probably is.”

“—but what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Elliot drawled around that awful, poisonous itch that begged her to make him suffer for making her suffer, “you didn’t really miss me, you missed having a bed-warmer. If you missed me, you’d have taken us seriously the last time you had the chance.”

She could see that her words struck a nerve. His expression flattened a little, and she could see the flex of his jaw. Elliot would have been lying if she said that she didn’t regret throwing the words in his face—whether or not John had been with anyone in the lapse between their make-ups and break-ups certainly wasn’t any concern of hers, and it wouldn’t have been fair to hold it against him; but it did feel a little justified, seeing the way the words took his ego down a notch, sucked the air right out of his big-fucking-ego-sails.

“That’s real cute, El,” he snipped, the irritation visible on his face. “I’ll have you know, I’m in no shortage of bed-warmers.”

Elliot felt the heat crawling into her face at the sinking feeling of humiliation; it was as though John found himself incapable of going three minutes without saying something that pissed her off. It shouldn’t matter, she thought furiously, it shouldn’t, but it still bothers me so fucking much, because—

“Then what the fuck are you here for?” she demanded, pushing that pesky thought of her brain. John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a minute; he clearly regretted what he’d said, but it was there already, and any warmth Elliot might have felt was gone. “I’m sure any one of them would be happy to go with you to your stupid fucking Christmas family dinner, which we both know is why you’re actually here.”

“Fucking—can’t go even three minutes without picking a fight,” John muttered under his breath, passing a hand over his face.

“Excuse me?”

“Hey, I—”

“The absolute audacity,” Elliot bit out, “of you walking into my fucking house after we’ve been broken up and telling me the one thing you want is to hear that I missed you, and then you look me in the fucking whites of my eyes and tell me you aren’t in shortage of people to fuck? You are incredible, John Seed.”

John protested, “I didn’t—that’s not what I meant. I don’t have people traipsing in and out of my loft at all hours of the day and night, okay? I just meant that—”

But it was too late; the damage had been done, and it was spiraling, fast, and Elliot was doing everything she could to cling onto the last shred of control she felt like she had, even when seconds ago she had been thinking about surrendering it to him. “Baby,” she bit out, “you can have anyone you want—”

“—nobody’s like you, Elliot—”

“—why don’t you take anyone you want back to your dumbfuck Christmas dinner—”

“Elliot.” John groaned and took in a deep breath, trying to re-center himself. Elliot couldn’t fight the shame—and jealousy—burning in her cheeks, even if she’d wanted to, and she was sure that the frustration of it showed on her face. He reached for her, and one chilly hand found her bare calf, tugging until she relented and he could sidle between her legs.

She watched him warily. Despite her physical acquiescence, Elliot said, “Don’t get any funny ideas, mister I’m in no shortage of bed-warmers. What kind of fuckhead comment was that?”

“I’m sorry,” John murmured, squeezing her knee with his chilly fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that, El. You know I’d give you anything—”

“John Seed,” Elliot warned, as he slid closer and the warm, wild heat of him seeped into her bones, “you had better—”

“—and I just can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued, taking her face in his hands now. Ah, yes, finally, something in her said. She felt her lashes flutter and John nosed the curve of her jaw, his dark beard tickling her skin after the warmth of his breath.

“John,” she tried again, attempting to harden her voice, “don’t fucking play with me.”

He pulled back to look at her. He looked oddly somber; there was something unsettling about that. John, focused.

“I’m not playing. I’m serious about you, and I’ll prove it.” These were not unfamiliar statements; they were things he’d said to her before, in situations just like this, and if Joey could see how Elliot was turning into a little puddle right then and there she’d probably be completely and utterly disappointed. And ashamed, that she had crumbled so easily.

His thumb grazed her cheekbone, then slid down to her lower lip, and he sighed, and fuck if the sound didn’t just send a hollow, aching kind of want straight through her. “I want to kiss you so badly, beautiful.”

Don’t, she thought to herself, don’t fucking fall for it, don’t, you heard him, he doesn’t need you.

She said, “John,” in something close to a warning, like she thought this was a bad idea—and she did, in a lot of ways, think that, and in a lot of ways she also wanted that closeness again, an intimacy that she didn’t like to give to anyone except John; so she was less surprised and more disappointed when she leaned in instinctively and kissed him.

A tension she hadn’t realized was there fled from John’s shoulders. His hand slid from her jaw to her hair, and then to the arm of the couch to support himself. She felt his lips parting against hers, his tongue darting out and re-mapping her mouth, like he didn’t want to even get close to forgetting again.

“You taste like fireball,” Elliot complained into the kiss. “You know I hate that shit.”

He laughed. “Needed some liquid courage,” he replied, “to come over here, and that was the quickest shit I could get at the bar.” And he kissed her again, harder this time, until her lungs ached with a need for air and her hands had fisted the front of his turtleneck. They stayed like that for a minute, until she pushed on his chest and moved to straddle his hips; John’s hands immediately went to her hips to steady her and she pulled back to look at him.

“How much did you miss me?” she asked. She wanted the words to come out flirtatious, but they came out more shy and small, in the blaring truth of his easy access to lovers; John’s eyes roved over her face, and he pulled her down against him.

“More than anything, hellcat,” John murmured huskily. “I mean it when I say that I’m serious—”

“This time,” Elliot interjected, but without cruelty. His fingers dug into the slope of her hips until he’d pulled a little whine out of her, and his gaze was dark and hungry.

“I mean it,” he said again. “I want to marry you, Elliot—”

Elliot made sound, something like a mm-hmm, because the phrase was inconsequential; and she leaned down to kiss him again. This time, it was John’s turn to try and wiggle his way out of it, his hand sliding from her to his pocket, talking between kisses.

“I’m serious—I want to—El, listen to me—”

“You never stop talking,” she murmured. “I’ll come to the stupid family dinner, you don’t need to keep sweet-talking me. I mean, we’ll have to stop and see my mom—”

John shifted under her, finally getting his hand into his pocket and fishing around awkwardly while she remained straddling his lap, her hands on his shoulder. He pulled out something small, and gold, reaching for Elliot’s left hand.

“What the fuck is that?” she demanded, catching his wrist before he could snag her hand. “John—”

“I was trying to tell you,” John said, his grin boyish, “I want you to marry me. Give me your hand, El.”

Panic washed over her instantly.

“Fuck you,” Elliot snapped, her throat feeling tight. “You’re really proposing to me in my living room, after we’ve been broken up for months? You didn’t even really propose, you’re just assuming I’ll say yes—”

John looked at her blankly, as though whatever protestation she might have against this particular situation didn’t make any sense to him. “Are you saying no?”

Elliot’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She tried not to look at the ring very long, or very much; the few glimpses she’d given it showed that the ring was gorgeous, the center gem a rich, dark sapphire color. Of course it was blue, she reasoned, fixing John with her eyes as she tried to iron out her willpower.

“Yes,” she managed out after a moment.

“I knew it. This should be a perfect fit—”

“No, you dumbass, I mean yes I’m saying no,” Elliot ground out, climbing off of his lap. John looked like she might have slapped him square across the face, the hand holding the engagement ring falling to his lap. She crossed her arms over her chest, her cheeks burning. “I can’t believe you came in here and just—just—”

“You told me you wanted me to take us seriously!” he exclaimed. He was upset, maybe more than before; she could see it in the furrow of his brows, the narrow of his eyes. If there was one thing John Seed couldn’t stand, it was being told no. “And here I am, taking us seriously!”

“You don’t think maybe we should see if we don’t break up again in a few months?” Elliot asked him tartly. “What are the odds you do something that pisses me off enough, hm? Wanted a little change of pace, to break up with your fiance instead of your girlfriend?”

“Well, we’re never going to stay together with that attitude.”

Elliot rolled her eyes, snagging the bottle of wine off of the coffee table and making her way into the kitchen, grabbing herself a fresh wine glass from the cabinet. “I cannot fucking believe you,” she said as she poured the glass nearly-full. The idea of marrying John was—

It was lovely, if she let herself think that everything would be okay and not a complete shitshow. John was a drama queen, but she knew that the entire day would be about how much they loved each other, and it was a lot, all things considered. And to call herself Elliot Seed, instead of Elliot Honeysett, to erase the last tie of her father’s claim on her; it was alluring. Joey and the Hudsons would be there, of course, and John’s siblings. Maybe her mama would even be able to make it, though they’d have to make sure that she didn’t have anything more than one drink, but Elliot thought it could be that her mama would hold herself together for one night if it was for her, and—

“Fine. Don’t say yes right now,” John said petulantly, his voice coming from behind her, his hands finding her hips again. She exhaled and closed her eyes. “I’ll hold on to the ring, and when you come to your senses—”

“What if I don’t ever want to get married?” Elliot asked sharply. “What if I don’t ever want to fucking give anyone some legal claim to me? My dad did that to my mom, dragged her credit and her reputation straight through the dirt and then left, and my mom spent her entire life thinking he was going to come back and he fucking. Didn’t.” She swallowed, hard. “It’s fucking pathetic, and I won’t let it happen to me.”

John paused. He was watching her, watching the venom, watching the vitriol; he didn’t mind it so much, she knew, when it wasn’t centered around him, when he was letting her push it all out of her system. After a second, he began, “You know that I—”

“I know,” she ground out. “I know you aren’t—him, and that you want to get married, or whatever—but it’s not—I have never once said to you that I wanted that, and that you think it’s just going to fix all of that shit you put me through—”

“That we put us through,” he protested.

“Yes! Exactly!”

John sighed and passed a hand over his face; she turned, leaned against the counter to regard him, and she could feel the hard lines of her expression digging the tension into a headache that had just begun to bloom behind her eyes.

“You can,” she started, “I mean—someone else might want—”

“I don’t want someone else,” John snapped. “I want. You.”

It was endearing and infuriating, in equal amounts. John kept trying to jam a puzzle piece where it didn’t fit, and that wasn’t to say that she thought she’d feel this way forever—because maybe, someday, she wouldn’t—but John didn’t do anything to endear her to the idea when he threw it around like it was a fix-it to everything he’d ever done to piss her off.

“I’ll hold on to the ring,” he started again, and she sighed, closing her eyes. “Listen. I’ll hold on to it. Come to Christmas dinner. I’ll sit through your mom criticizing everything about me if you do. We can...” John’s gaze flickered as he searched for a word, his hands coming up to her face. “Revisit the topic after the holidays.”

“And what if I say no again?” she asked, warily.

“Then you say no,” John replied. “And we go from there. So will you come?”

Elliot took a sip of her wine, having to move the glass around his hands, and exhaled out of her nose.

“Fine,” she replied. “But only because I know Jacob would never let you live it down if he heard you made the big show of coming all the way to my house and I said no.”

“See? It’s like you’re already one of us.”

“Thin fucking ice, John.”

He grinned, leaned in, and kissed her; slow, unhurried, luxuriating in the moment before he said, “Pick you up tomorrow morning? Nine?”

“Fine,” she said again, tired because she knew that the next few days were going to be only exhausting. Well, that wasn’t true; it would be nice to see Faith (and maybe even Jacob) again, and there was a tiny, tiny sliver of a chance her mother would stop trying to set her up on dates if she brought a boyfriend around for the holidays. “But don’t make me regret it.”

“Of course,” John agreed. “Nothing could go wrong.”

#lilwritingraven #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #hahaha i hate it here #I'M SORRY THIS IS NOT WHAT I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE #I HOPE U STILL LIKE IT #fc5 fic #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #fc5 #far cry 5 #ask games

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