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fu-aki · 4 years

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Chapter 5

So this is going to be my attempt to summarize part 1 of the beginning part of chapter 5 (episode 1 to 21) of twisted wonderland.

Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar and horrible French in advance.

You heard someone singing -> it was the scenes from snow white when the evil queen asks the mirror on the wall and snow white singing into the well -> player choice: a beautiful women was watching from the window…/ I felt like I’ve meet that beautiful person before… -> you woke up from dream -> in the main street, you meet up with Ace and Deuce -> after seeing the statue you realized you’ve seen them in your dreams before

In classroom -> Ace felt it wasn’t weird to have dreams like that when you see those statues everyday -> you mentioned about in your dream “mickey” appeared in the mirror -> Ace and Deuce never heard of that name before -> Ace suggest to take a photo of it with the “ghost camera” you got from Crowley since it can even take pictures of ghosts

Crewel showed up and explained about “nationwide sorcerer training school culture festival” -> it’s a 2 day event with representative students from all the sorcerer training school, a festival with speeches and debates all about magic related music & art topics -> for NRC, all the 4th year students will be send all across country for internship and research study -> they will all come back on that day to share their experience and result -> end of the homeroom -> fight Crewel for the defense magic class

In the dorm leader meeting -> Malleus is not there again -> Lilia mentions how he couldn’t find Malleus anymore after class so he’s here instead -> Idia questions if Malleus is missing meetings on purpose -> Lilia talked about how fairies feels time different from humans, and how Malleus have some troublesome karma on him as well

The meeting starts -> Riddle started reporting everything about the event -> but the “vocal & dance championship” has surprising amount of media focused on it -> Riddle was surprised since he thought it was just a chorus competition -> because of the time change and consideration for different types of music, now it includes singing, dancing, and performance -> and because of how popular it got, it becomes one chance for students to professionally debut -> and now it’s getting extra notice because the famous influencer Vil and Neige are in it -> Lilia commented how Neige is getting really popular online and on TV -> Idia surprised that people in Diasomnia actually go online -> Lilia “kuhuhu, of course, we are still just students in high school, we watch dramas and play games.” -> Crowley “Vila and Neige, 2 world known famous celebrity are going to appear in VDC, it won’t be an exaggeration to call it the highest degree of attention we are going to get in this event.” -> Crowley ask Riddle to make preparation in case of troubles -> Azul offered to help since he learned all about it from magic shift event -> Leona “hey octopus bastard… do you want your flappy tongue to turn into dried food or what?” -> Azul “oh my how scary” -> Riddle refused Azul’s help since he don’t want Azul ask for something later -> Kalim “just tell us if something is bothering you, we’ll help you anytime.”

-> Kalim “I can’t wait for the day of festival~!” -> Idia “sign~~~… the popular guys just looks so happy everyday. I had to think about the day to announce our research result… if I just step on stage, everyone would be like ‘hey isn’t his hair burning?’ ‘could he be Shroud family’s…’ ‘what kind of dark research is he doing?’ aah I can’t… for person like me to do a speech on stage is just challenge level EX.” -> Riddle mentioned how the rules said student have to go on stage themselves and offer to train Idia for speech after school -> Idia said he’ll manage something himself (whispering) “I really don’t wanna have a farming event with demonic trainer Riddle.” -> end of meeting

In Vil’s room -> Vil “Mira, Mira” -> Mira “what can I help you with?” -> Vil “who is the fairest of them all right now?” -> Mira “the account with the most mention of fair in web currently is… Neige.” -> Vil “Neige…! Finally… this time have arrived.” -> Mira “sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you. Could you please repeat what you said?”

Few days later in cafeteria -> Ace, Deuce, Grim, and you saw the poster for the VDC audition -> the reward for wining the championship is 5 million Madollar to spilt among the members -> Crowley popped up and explained many corporation sponsored this event -> Grim wanted to join for the money so he can buy tuna cans

The song for audition is “piece of my world” -> Ace wanted to try so if he got accepted he don’t need to help set up the places anymore -> Deuce wanted the reward money to help his family -> but he never did singing or dancing before so he didn’t want to join ->

In courtyard you heard someone singing beautifully -> you saw Epel ->Deuce remembered the time he bumped into Epel last chapter -> He asked Epel why is he practice singing here -> it was because Vil told Epel to practice singing to the well so Epel can hear his voice clearly -> Deuce “does Pomefiore have some rules where you have to be good at singing?” -> it was because Epel has to take the audition for VDC and practice for a more lovely voice -> Epel (whisper) “event like that should just disappear…” -> “oh my Epel, are you skipping practice and talking with pigeons now?” -> it was Vil -> Grim “that guy’s leg looks like it��s 1 meter longer than MC’s!” -> Vil “there’s only 2 month left till VDC, Epel have no times play with muddy potatoes like you people.” -> “Epel, you too, if this keep going on you won’t be able to become the ‘red poisoned apple’ let’s go.” -> Epel “…But I actully don’t!” -> Vil “did you forgot the promise with me? Just come here already.” -> Ace and Grim was pretty mad and wanted to fight -> Vil “It’s not bad for a walk after meal. Come at me, I’ll make you into mashed potato.” -> fight time -> you are beat up by Vil -> and he only gives you 5/100 for the fight since you lacked the beauty when fighting -> Epel has to go back with Vil and Vil mentioned how it ends up like this because Epel skipped practice in break

The next day -> Deuce decided to try the audition -> so if they are accepted, Epel might got eliminated and don’t need to practice anymore -> Deuce “as a honor student, I can’t just watch him being forced into the things he don’t like.” -> Ace “I don’t think it’s very honor student of you to call yourself honor student.” -> dance practice time

Kalim and Jamil showed up practice for audition too -> Kalim “honestly you guys are pretty bad at this, you look like a panicked elephant trying to stand on 2 legs! Ahhaha!” -> Deuce “man this really hurts when he’s not even try to be mean.” -> Ace asked Jamil to teach them how to dance -> Kalim “oh sure! Jamil is really good at singing.” -> Jamil “why are you replying for me! … well it is also review for me when I’m teaching someone, fine I’ll do it.” -> teaching time -> Kalim “hey, how about we practice together tomorrow too? Jamil is really good at singing, we’ll show you.” -> Jamil “! You just decided that yourself too…!” -> Kalim “it’ll be fine, besides isn’t it more fun when you have more people for dancing, singing, or partying?” -> Jamil “fine, just don’t expect me to be so kind.” -> Jamil “for now, let’s just clean up, take some mops from the storage room -> Deuce, Ace, Kalim “okay.” -> Jamil “Kalim, you don’t have to do it… sigh.”

Azul showed up -> Grim mentioned how Jamil’s evil plan was streamed worldwide last chapter.” -> Azul “why do you think the merciful me would end my classmate societal life like that?” -> Jamil “…you would.” -> that day Azul was just on phone with Jade -> Azul “different from Leona, I don’t have an interest to beat down someone more than necessary, besides it’s a secret that I’ve finally got, I won’t do anything to make the price fall like that.” -> Jamil “hate to say it, but thanks to Azul’s mercifulness, my parents and Asim family didn’t know the real reason I overblot. But the dorm students…”

Flashback -> Scarabia students questioned why Kalim don’t change the vice dorm leader after what happened

-> Kalim “are you guys worried about me? Thank you! But… he was not the only one wrong this time, I’m also at fault. Besides, is there anyone in Scarabia that have not received help from Jamil?” -> student “that, that is true… if there’s something going wrong we would always just ask him…” -> Kalim “I know right? He is an excellent vice dorm leader. A lot better than me, the dorm leader. His judgements might be clouded back then, but he is still great at his work. He did try to expel me by manipulating you guys but… up till that incident, he has never hurt me even once before. He has many chances to do other much more horrible things to me, but he didn’t. Not once, in 17 years. I won’t call him a good guy but… it’s hard to explain but would you please give us more times?” -> students “…if that’s what you said so…” -> Jamil “…” -> end of flashback -> Jamil “the chance I had for holiday was once in a lifetime, thought my life would be over if I failed, but in the end it didn’t change that much… surely something to be ‘grateful’ for. So unless I’m fired by Kalim, I’ll continue to serve him. And I’ll continue to show everyone how useful I am.” -> Grim “Jamil… your character really changed a lot after the holiday.” -> Azul “if you are fired by Kalim, Octavinelle will always welcome people like you with open arms.” -> Jamil “thank you for the offer, but no matter what happened I would never go to Octavinelle.” -> Kalim “Hey you guys~ if we don’t head out soon we are gonna be late for class!”

3 days later -> everyone is getting better at dancing and singing -> Jamil reminded them to sign up for audition with Rook in class 3-A -> Grim saw Leona and called out to him -> Leona: angry lion noises -> Grim asked where is Rook Hunt -> Leona “why are you trying to find that weird guy.” -> Rook suddenly popped up from behind -> Rook “hahaha, did I surprised you? Pardon. Conceal my footstep sound was a habit I had. I am Rook Hunt. The hunter of love that set his life theme as looking for beauty, helping beauty.” -> Leona “tsk, there it is, that weird guy.” -> Rook asked where is monsieur dandelion -> Leona “no way we are together 24/7, just take those herbivores and go.” -> Deuce questioned who is monsieur dandelion -> it was Ruggie -> the reason why Rook calls him that is because last spring, Rook saw Ruggie picking dandelion in the sports field. Ruggie plans to eat those since his budget is a little tight this month -> so Rook calls him monsieur dandelion out of respect -> Leona “that guy… is he really fine with eating everything that’s not rotten? He didn’t make me eat dandelions too, right…?” -> Rook “non non, it’s not poison, it’s not good to be picky like that lord lion.” -> Ace brought up the audition for VDC, we almost forgot about that because of what happened -> Rook “I apologize, so you guys are, human species Ace Trappola, height 172cm, from class 1-A with student number 25. Human species Deuce Spade, height 173cm, from the same class 1-A with student number 24. And human species MC with demon beast species Grim, height 70cm. right?”

-> Deuce “how did you know our class and student number!?” -> Ace “and even height too!?” -> Rook “huhuhu. As a hunter, I have to at least know the species and heights about the students.” -> there’s no need to write anything to sign up, you only need to show up to the audition 3 days later in Pomefiore’s ballroom -> Rook ask why don’t Leona try for the auditions too -> Leona “who would go to a game event like that, besides, that annoying Vil is also there. I would never go.” -> Rook “the Vil with the beauty of metropolis, and Leona kun with the beauty of wilderness. If both of you dances and sings together it would definitely be beautiful. The competition between different types of beauty, it’s just tres bien!” -> Leona “this guy really doesn’t listen to other people at all…”

3 days later -> in Pomrfiore dorm lounge, you saw around 50 students who’s also trying for audition -> Cater was also one of it -> since he wanted to go to the event with the famous celebrity Vil -> Ace “isn’t that reason a little too light hearted?” -> Cater “really? I thought everyone is like that, I mean look.”

-> pointed at Ruggie who’s clearly here for money -> Lilia popped up again -> you recognized him as the person who handed you the holiday card -> Grim “he wasn’t the sender?” -> Lilia “the initials are different from mine right?” -> Lilia is here since he’s in light music club and it just makes sense for him to try -> he tried to invite Malleus too but he said he don’t want it to become the exhibition of some kind so he refused -> Lilia “that guy is kind of shy” -> Cater “I feels like that’s a little bit different from shy…” -> Lilia asked why didn’t Cater brought Trey along -> Cater tried but Trey has to help Riddle with all the works

they saw Ortho by himself for audition too and was surprised -> Ace commented on how Ortho looks like an elementary school student -> Cater said Ortho is accepted into this school with Idia, and they always take classes together -> Grim “how much of a brothercon is Idia…” ->Ortho “don’t talk bad on my brother!” -> Ortho explained how everything was approved by the principals, and is not like Idia brought him just because he’s lonely by himself -> Cater “sorry sorry, we kinda got to excited while talking about it since the Shroud brother is like the 7 mysteries of this school.” -> Ortho “I want to apologize for getting too upset as well, I just don’t want you to misunderstand my brother…” -> Cater asked if Ortho is also here for audition -> flashback -> basically Idia made a software with his voice to read out everything he typed -> for the speech since he just can’t talk in front of everyone -> but Idia also got pretty interested in the sound editing world -> Idia “since virtual idol is getting popular, should I put vocal synthesizer in Ortho too?” -> Ortho “sounds fun! I wanted to sing too.” ->Idia “alright~ let big brother handle everything.” -> so to test how far the vocal synthesizer can go, Ortho is here to take the audition -> Ace was surprised that they can just make singing sounds from programs -> Cater said those got quite popular and he likes it too, and wanted to show Grim a video of it -> there was an ad

Neige is promoting in the ad -> Cater mentioned how popular he is getting -> Vil, Rook, and Epel kicked in with sparkling effects -> Vil started introducing himself and explains how he will be the producer for the members appears in VDC

Auditions starts -> Ruggie sung and danced

-> Rook “monsieur dandelion. Such a light step and bright smile. With manliness and loveliness combined perfectly. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “his way of moving isn’t bad, but his dancing and singing is still messy… next!”

Cater -> Rook “monsieur magcam. Your voice sounds just like the elegant sparkling diamond! I wanted to listen to it forever. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “singing and dancing wasn’t bad, but I can’t feel any passions… next!”

Lilia -> Rook “monsieur curiosity. Such a lovely form and singing voice with an alluring aura… Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “I don’t know why… but I can’t feel any freshness of a high school student from Lilia. Next!”

Ortho -> Rook “monsieur doll. What a brand-new style…! Your robot dance and singing voice, will be sculpted into my eyes. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “no matter how genre-less this event is, there’s a limit… next!”

Kalim -> Rook “lord gold! Your dance were just like the breeze that blow through the hot sand! And the singing that make me felt like flying. Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “hmm, it’s a little bit better than the vegetables that’s just rolling around.”

Jamil -> Rook “monsieur mulch. As expected… I can feel your buring soul underneath your cool mask! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “not bad, he’s the most normal one out of all of them.”

Epel -> Rook “monsieur crabapple. So lovely! Beaute! 100 points!” -> Vil “that kid, misstep again, no matter how good was his rehearse, it would be meaningless if he can’t do good in the real deal. Also, Rook. aren’t you giving out nothing but 100 points? Are you judging seriously?” -> Rook “of course, but it’s so hard to pick a first when everyone are so wonderful. There’s beauty in the neatness, and there’s also beauty in the twisted. Don’t you think so?” -> last group -> Ace, Deuce, and Grim -> Rook “…I see I see.” -> end of the audition -> result will come out tomorrow -> Rook recommend the trio to Vil

Next day, Ace, Deuce, Grim just got off from class -> suddenly an arrow flies across barely missed Deuce’s nose -> Ace realized there’s a piece of paper on the arrow -> Deuce “what!? Is it a challenge to fight!?” -> Ace “stop connect everything to a fight, let me see…” -> both Ace and Deuce are accepted -> you are also asked to go with those two

You all headed towards Pomefiore -> you saw both Kalim and Jamil -> they are accepted as well -> but after going in Pomefiore, students keep showing up asking for fight -> finally you arrived to the ballroom

-> Vil showed up with sparkling effects again -> apparently the students are fighting with you because you are accepted members, it was a warm up Vil prepared for all of you so he can start the lesson right away -> Vil “listen up, start from now on we would be the representation for NRC, and aim for the first place in the VDC. The members that can’t even win a fight like that is not needed. The battle has already started and all of you should be prepared to be whipped to shape!” -> Kalim “I don’t really understand but okay!” -> Grim asks why are him and you here when you are not accepted -> Crowley showed up and explained, in order to practice for the team work, all of the members will live together in Ramshakle dorm -> Grim wanted to refuse -> but Vil and Rook said they will give you all of their reward money since their goal in this event is not money -> which is around 1.42 million -> you decided to accept the deal after all ->Vil “now let’s start the lesson!” -> Ace “I thought the lesson starts when we starts living together?” -> Vil “don’t get a big head, new potato number 1. You are still an amateur at singing and dancing, we can’t waste a single minute.” -> practice time.

End of this update.

Oh man it tooks me a whole entire day to do this… and to think this is just like part a of part1. The chapters are getting so much longer…

I Honestly felt like I missed up half of Rook’s nicknames since I don’t know French at all, basically got everything from google so please correct me if I’m wrong.

Also, Rook’s nickname for Epel is kinda weird, he call Epel hime ringo which directly translate to princess apple, but it is also a type of apple. In English it’s called crabapple, which kind of feels different then the Japanese text.

Can I just say I love the fact that we can fight Crewel now? And I just love how he call us zasshu while fighting, it probably referenced to like mixed blood dogs and all but it only reminds me of Gilgamesh lol.

Ahhh I really want Crewel to slap me.

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crossroadsfossil · 3 years

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106 degrees

Summary:

Here’s a fun science fact: Birds consistently run at a higher temperature than humans do. It tends to range between 99 degrees fahrenheit up to 112 degrees. Hawks’ own body temperature tends to self-regulate around 106 degrees.

This is important when you get caught in an autumn rainstorm with a villian you don’t really trust.

Also known as 5 times Hawks falls asleep on Dabi

Prompt: For something fluffier, how about Hawks can't stop falling asleep on Dabi because of how hot he runs. Dabi constantly has an arm full of bird and has no clue what to do

Bonus if they still didn’t trust each other the first time it happened

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31366130

Here’s a fun science fact: Birds consistently run at a higher temperature than humans do. It tends to range between 99 degrees Fahrenheit up to 112 degrees. Hawks’ own body temperature tends to self-regulate around 106 degrees.

It’s something he and Rumi discuss often, if only because Rumi liked to snuggle up to him and comments on it constantly. She has no room to talk since she also runs at a higher temperature. Granted, it’s not much higher than your usual human baseline. She runs about a hundred or a hundred and one, depending on the season.

Needless to say, Hawks is a very popular patrol partner in the winter. Add in his feathers (which are amazing insulation, despite not being meant for it) and the large fluffy jacket he’s never without, and it’s not surprising that he’s almost never alone in the cooler weather, even if most of his companions can’t keep up with him once he gets going.

Neither his feathers nor his jacket are doing him any good right now, as soaked through as they are. His day had gone from bad (a long day topped off with a meeting Dabi ‘forgot’ to tell him about) to worse (an incoming cold front) to absolutely terrible (a storm that was preceding the cold front, resulting in rain, sleet, snow, or all three since this was Japan after all).

As soon as the sky opened up, Hawks insisted they take shelter. He’d herded Dabi towards the closest abandoned warehouse. He ignored the expression Dabi sported as he broke in. He didn’t care what the villain thought or how entertained he was by the action. He was a practical man and it was abandoned. Besides, if he didn’t get out of the wind and rain, he was at serious risk of going into torpor. The gear he was wearing today wasn’t meant for repelling water and it was about as much use as an icepack in winter.

There were a list of things he didn’t want to happen around Dabi, and going into torpor was fairly high up on that list, alongside bullet points such as ‘getting drunk’, ‘getting high’ and ‘running into another hero’. The best Hawks could expect from Dabi was for the villain to light his feathers on fire. At worst, he figured Dabi wouldn’t be the only burnt nugget around after he was finished with Hawks.

“Hey birdie, I’m not opposed to a show but take me out for dinner first.” Dabi said, watching as Hawks shrugged out of his coat and feathers in one fluid movement, catching his jacket before it fell off completely. He let his feathers fall to the ground with a disgusting splat. Laundering those would be less of a hassle than laundering his jacket. He draped his jacket over a nearby box in the vain hope that it might dry a little. It probably wouldn’t, but who knows. Maybe if he annoys Dabi enough, the fire-quirk user might raise the temperature in the warehouse by a few degrees.

“Ha. Ha. Not everyone has a fire quirk, asshole.” Hawks replied, giving what remained of his wings a shake to get as much of the water out. A quick look around the warehouse revealed it wasn’t as secure as he had thought, with great gaping holes in several of the walls. He shivered as the wind blew through them and started looking for anywhere that would provide a barrier between himself and the wind. He watched enviously for a moment as Dabi rolled his shoulders and began steaming slightly, burning the moisture out of his clothes and coat.

He spotted a pile of boxes, with several piled up on three sides to make a small nook and started to walk towards it.

“So, what do you have for me?” He asked, sitting down and scooting until he hit the back ‘wall’ of boxes.

Dabi shrugged. “Nothing. Just wanted to see if you’d come.” He replied.

Hawks stared at him, not quite believing what he just heard. Dabi’s growing grin cemented the fact that he had not, in fact, misheard.

“You’re an asshole. You seriously just called me out here on a whim? I’ve got better things to do, Dabi.”

“What, rescue people? In this weather? I think not.” Dabi said, slinking towards Hawks. Instead of taking a seat on the box directly in front of him, Dabi decided that the best place to sit was practically in Hawks’ lap. He shoved the hero over and leaned against one of the boxes that made up a makeshift wall and smiled at Hawks, daring him to do anything about it.

“Dick. So what now? Are you going to suggest we play Shiritori or I-Spy to pass the time? Since you invited me out for a playdate, we might as well.”

“That is not what I did.”

“You did it on a whim. It sounds like either a playdate or you miiiiiiiiiissed meeee.” Hawks said in a sing-song tone, delighting in the way it made Dabi’s face scrunch up in irritation.

“We could play ‘how many burnt feathers does it take to get to the crispy chicken center’.” Dabi held up a palm, a blue flame flickering to life in the center of it. Hawks looked between the flame and Dabi’s face and, very pointedly, brought his hands up to warm them.

“Thanks. My fingers were getting cold.”

Dabi huffed and closed his fist, snuffing the fire out.

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

When the bird actually showed up in the storm, Dabi wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He certainly wasn’t expecting the hero to stick around, let alone break into a building. Especially not the way he had. In the split second between Hawks looking at the door and breaking in, he’d assumed the hero would use a feather to lock-pick it. It seemed like something the hero would do- sufficiently flashy enough and sounded like the sort of party trick the pigeon would learn. Instead, Hawks had pulled out one of his larger feathers, slid it into the bend of the padlock and twisted it, using the feather like a lever and cracking the lock off with brute strength.

He wouldn’t say it intrigued him, but it was damn close. There were still things about the bird he didn’t know and he was still half-convinced the hero was a spy, but shit like that definitely made him question that assumption.

The hero also annoyed the ever-loving hell out of him. More than Toga or Twice did, so he was hoping the bird would slip up and he’d have an excuse to roast the number two hero.

The storm outside had rolled in completely, throwing the warehouse into almost complete darkness. He and Hawks had stopped sniping at each other almost half an hour ago, the warehouse filled with the sound of screaming winds and hammering rain. He was pretty sure this was a new record for Hawks. If he gave a shit, he’d say something about being impressed. He didn’t give a shit and he was more interested in figuring out what the fuck was making that weird noise. It kept disturbing the quiet of the warehouse; it was almost a peeping squeak, like a chain swinging in the wind, but far more organic.

He lit up one of his palms, peering out into the darkness to see if he could spot the noise. All it did was make the shadows worse and throw the hero into an eerie light. The hero was sitting with his eyes closed, and as Dabi watched, about every third exhale the bird would shiver slightly and let out that peeping noise.

Was that… Hawks’ version of a snore?

Pretty ballsy of the hero to fall asleep next to him. Ballsy and stupid as hell. Slowly, he brought his hand closer to the bird, intent on setting at least one wing on fire.

Gold eyes blinked open, unfocused. Dabi froze, waiting for the bird to react.

Hawks did, but not in a way Dabi had been expecting.

“Fucking hell-” Dabi spat as Hawks leaned against him.

The bird was freezing.

It was like getting hit by a wet washcloth that had been sitting in a freezer, and within moments he could feel the water seeping through his clothes. The bird was freezing and soaking wet.

Then the bird shivered again, almost cuddling into Dabi’s arms. Hawks’ eyes had closed again and it left Dabi with an armful of bird and no good idea how to handle this or how to feel about it.

Logically, Hawks was probably seeking out the warmth, and hell, maybe he was like Spinner. Spinner hated the cold and was about as tolerant of it as Dabi was of the heat. Guess that might explain the sleepy-thing. Spinner mentioned something about torpor once. Dabi hadn’t been listening because Spinner was goddamn annoying.

He brought his legs up, shifting Hawks so that he was sitting sideways and half on Dabi’s lap. One of his hands came up and, against his better judgement, settled on the remaining plumage Hawks had left on his wings. They looked comically small like this, and he had been wondering about how they felt.

Right now, they felt wet and cold.

He tsked and slowly heated his hand up, combing his hand through the feathers.

Slowly, they went from feeling like wet paper to delightfully smooth and soft.

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

Normally, Hawks enjoyed waking up. He had a nice bed and decadent sheets. He usually woke with the sun, and despite having an early shift, that still usually left him with an hour he could spend just basking in the delight of a nice bed. If he left the shades open, he could do so in a puddle of sunlight.

His bed didn’t feel right this morning. Too lumpy and for a moment he tried to recall if he had brought anyone home the night before. There was a hand combing through his hair, so there was a very distinct possibility that he had left the warehouse the night before and-

His eyes flew open at the thought.

He didn’t remember leaving the warehouse and-

“Chill your tits, bird brain. Just me.” Dabi said, giving a light tug on a lock of Hawks’ hair. He ignored the pleasant way it sent shivers down his spine.

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah. That was my thought too. Lemme guess- you go into torpor?” Dabi asked.

“Do I even need to answer that right now?” Hawks’ shoulders slumped and he groaned.

Fantastic. He did exactly the thing he hadn’t wanted to do. Dabi let out a soft huff, almost a laugh but not quite. Hawks leaned back, feeling an arm against his back and keeping him from going too far. Dabi didn’t look peeved, and that raised his hackles. His eye narrowed as he tried to figure out what happened.

“What?”

“You did something.” Hawks stated, running through a checklist in his mind. He didn’t feel any burns. Nothing smelled like ash. The only real change from before he went into torpor was his hair and wings were fully dry and his clothes felt, well, not dry but not sopping wet anymore.

Oh.

OH.

Dabi noticed the grin on Hawks’ face, and started spluttering. “You were just-”

“You preened meeee.” Hawks sang, laughing at the affronted expression on Dabi’s face.

“I did not. You were dripping everywhere.”

“Uh-huh. And that included drying my wings… why?”

“....Because they were there. So shoot me if I wanted to know if you had greasy bird feathers.”

“Nope. That the same reason you decided to sweetly comb through my hair? I mean, really Dabi. If you wanted to play with my hair and wings that much, you could have at least gotten me dinner first.” Hawks teased, stifling a laugh as Dabi’s expression went from affronted to a grouchy embarrassment, before then actually lifting Hawks up and dumping him on the ground.

One- Damn. Hawks’ wasn’t heavy but he was mostly muscle so. Damn.

Two- He was just laughing harder now. To think that Dabi got shy about being caught playing with hair. He got to his feet, trying to brush the dust from his pants before giving it up as a lost cause.

“Well Hotstuff, thanks for the preen and playing heating pad. Guess we did get to know each other a little better tonight.”

Dabi flipped him off, sliding off the crates and making his way towards the door they came in through.

“Dabi?” Hawks called out. To his surprise, Dabi stopped, turning to look at him, dubiously waiting for the rest of his question. “For the next meeting, can I play with your hair?”

A moment later he was scrambling away from the fireball Dabi sent his way, despite knowing that it wasn’t a true attack and Dabi was only trying to get him to stop talking and hide his frazzled expression. Hawks watched Dabi make a beeline out the door, wheezing on his laughter as he gathered up his jacket and feathers.

Teasing Dabi was going to be so much fun.

#bnha fic #dabihawks #dabihawks fic #my fic

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belovasangel · 4 years

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Come Back to Me

Summary: Shawn missing big events leaves to beautiful memories and Christmas miracles

Pairing: Shawn x fem!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: swearing, light angst, fluff, flashback heavy, holiday feelings

A/N: Yup. Surprise. Also flashbacks are in italics, per usual. Also I am not Canadian so I don’t know if y’all celebrate Remembrance Day. For the sake of this story, pretend that it’s the equivalent to Thanksgiving.

Shawn took your hand as you barreled down the sidewalk, laughs flying past you in the wind. Tonight had been a perfect date, something great to wrap the summer up, full of time alone with your favorite guy (and your favorite wine). He had been planning this for weeks now, and you can even remember him talking about this back in June when his tour had been announced. The pandemic put a damper on your two’s plans since March, but once the numbers started decreasing did he get calls from managers, and then... there was another world tour. You weren’t mad, music was his passion. Even though you two would be wrapped in each other’s arms after a lovely night, you could tell behind his eyes he longed to play the guitar for different cities.

That’s why tonight was so important, because he started packing and planning, then he would leave on Wednesday for Prague. And of course, your job needed you in Toronto. While Canada hasn’t experienced any significantly alarming numbers, there were still cases rolling in. You insisted that Shawn goes on tour, so much that you had to pay for his first ticket yourself (he payed you back, though. He insisted).

Shawn skidded to a stop, turning around and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Now promise me you’re gonna close your eyes, just for a few seconds.”

You huffed and shrugged your shoulders, “Shawn I’m out of breathe, you made me run in heels for about half a mile... Give me 5 minutes instead.” With a quick chuckle, he pecked your lips and turned you around. You heard his shuffling from those black boots he wears to rubble, then decided to look around. He somehow managed to find a quaint park, with a nice bubbling fountain and family’s scattered around. Dogs were running a lit in the distance, and the bustle of the city wasn’t nearly as booming as it usually is. This was nice.

“Okay, turn around.”

With a giggle, you turned around to see Shawn on one knee. Behind him was a tree strung with lights that were glowing, and underneath the tree was champagne and a radio playing your two’s song, Turning the Page (Yeah, we know it’s from Twilight, but that doesn’t stop it from being any less romantic). He was kneeled on a red and white picnic blanket, the typical one you’d see in catalogues for fall. On the blanket were rose petals scattered.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have changed my life for the better. The moment you saw me in the E.R., and had to take care of my broken hand, I knew you were just as kind and gentle as you looked. Once you let me in, and take you on that shitty first date, I got to see the real you. The you that cries during every Disney movie, the you that would bring me breakfast in bed when I had a rough day, the you that would rescue a damn pigeon off the street because it looked sad. You are the most sincere, selfless, and intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I don’t want ever want to stop or slow down. You have become my life and my rock, I’m completely lost without you. I am utterly in love with you, (Y/N). I want us to have a family, I want to make an album for you, and everything in between. Will you please marry me?”

You shuddered awake, looking quickly at your blaring alarm from the end table. Picking it up and turning it off, the time read 4:25 A.M., signaling it was time to get ready for work. You got up, and went to open the blinds to your bedroom, watching the snow fall steadily. Slipping on your socks and bathrobe, you shuffled to the kitchen to get a cup of tea brewing before you hit the shower.

Mornings like this weren’t incredibly tough anymore, once Shawn was gone on tour. He face-timed you once a week because of tour, sent you letters and packages from your favorite cities, and even had roses delivered on your birthday. And of course, he always said, “Lemme see it. I wanna see you wear that pretty ring. There it is, there she is, soon-to-be Mrs. Mendes.”

Slipping in the hot shower, you played some of his songs, some of your regular playlists, and when you were throwing on your outfit, your two’s song. You missed Shawn. He had missed your two’s favorite holiday, Halloween, where you two always did the cheesy couple costumes. He missed your birthday, but he sent his family in place. He missed Remembrance Day, because in Europe that wasn’t a thing. And tomorrow is Christmas, where he has no sign of coming home whatsoever. That’s fine, though, because you took the long shift at the hospital.

When the song came to an end, you threw on your coat and snow boots, grabbing all the food and equipment you would need for a 12-hour and began to head out. Shawn sent you his daily vlog and you watched that on the shuttle. Once that was over, you got to the hospital where you would forget about your slightly more aching heart. After work, the routine would basically go in reverse. Commute home, get back into your pajama’s, drink some tea, get dinner, and go to bed, where you would have a restless night in an empty bed.

“When do you think we should have the wedding?”

Shawn looked over, a piece of popcorn hanging onto his lip like a lifeline. His cheeks were flushed and he still looked a little sweaty from the show he just played at TD Garden. He knew you were doing the planning to keep yourself from descending into madness (well, not entirely, but you only brought it up when you really missed him). “I think we should do a summer/fall sort of wedding, like when the leaves are red but it isn’t freezing by 5, ya know?”

You hummed in agreement, a smile picking at the corners of your mouth. “I completely agree. Do you want it to be outdoors then, because of the leaves?”

Shawn took another few things of popcorn from the bag and popped them into his swollen lips, he always licked them when he was frustrated by how a show went, or just when his mind was reeling. “I think we should get married outdoors, and then have the reception indoors. Kind of like-”

“Twilight...”

You both looked at the screen and snorted, sending both of you into fits of hysteria. “Shawn, we really base our relationship off of those books, didn’t we?” He looked over, licking his lips once again. “Explain, babe. I get a little bit, but our whole relationship?”

You shuffled in the bed a little bit, “Hear me out, Shawn-y boy. We met when you were hurt and I had to save you, or more-so your career. Edward saved Bella from the car, right? Right. So, there’s that. Then that girl who you worked on the album with tried to get you on the few dates, but that was long after we were official. Boom, Jacob plot line. Then you leave me for your first tour, which I get 100%, so don’t be upset over that. But the girl you worked with saw you kind of sad and made it her mission to befriend you and then attempt to change your mind over me... And our song is the one from their wedding, and we want an outdoors-y wedding.....”

Shawn looked at the screen, then back to the popcorn leaking butter in his hands. “Damn. So you’re saying that I’m Bella?” You began to shake your head, cheeks turning red. “Maybe I meant that wrong, but-”

“No, no you’re saying I’m Bella. Does that mean I get to wear the dress? I cannot wait to get married with no emotions and then have the ugliest CGI baby in the history of cinematics. Aren’t you so excited for that, my love?”

“Absolutely thrilled.”

The alarm on your phone blared once again, pulling you from Shawn. You picked up the phone, getting a few “Merry Christmas” texts from family and friends. You assumed Shawn was out partying with his crew mates, plus it must’ve been a busy day altogether. Turning off the alarm and standing, you pulled on the slippers and followed your routine again.

Once it got to 6:07, and still no text from Shawn, you decided to call him. Immediately, you were sent to voicemail. With a sigh, you waited for voicemail.

“Hey bubs, Merry Christmas! I miss you more than ever, it’s snowing here pretty rough. I know you’d probably go outside right about now and insist to make a snowman or some angels, so that might be a mission for me after work. Um, I wanted to let you know that I love you so much, and I hope you’re having fun on tour... The apartment isn’t the same without you here, especially around this time. You’re probably having fun with your friends and I don’t wanna intrude on that, so I’ll hang up. I love you Shawn, be careful. Stay safe, come back to me soon. Bye.”

Wiping the tear that fell down your cheek, you stepped outside your apartment, hopped into the elevator and began the commute to your shift. You got to work on record time, beginning your patient rounds and vitals, then celebrating with the coworkers. Working 6:30 AM-9:30 PM would be a tough one, but whatever to keep you under that roof. Plus, double-time because of the holiday.

Once it hit 9:30, you booked it out of the hospital and onto the shuttle. Your eyes were barely open as you saw the texts from Shawn.

(Shawn) 7:59 AM: Hey babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call! I can’t wait to see your face tonight, you still up for FaceTime?

(Shawn) 9:26 AM: I bet you’re busy, but I’m gonna be in a few conferences and doing press so I won’t be able to talk for a while. Love you!

(Shawn) 3:14 PM: (Y/N) I don’t think we can FaceTime tonight, I have to do something for a fan and it’s really important. I am so sorry.

(Shawn) 8:44 PM: Are you mad at me or are you still working?

(Shawn) 9:32 PM: Something is waiting for you at home, it’s your gift. I hope this can make up for the call!

You hopped out of the shuttle, heart feeling extra heavy as you walked into the apartment. The string lights and streamers along the walls were taunting you as the elevator brought you to your floor, and you tried to compose yourself until you would get inside. Stepping up to your door, you looked for the present, to no avail.

(Y/N) 9:45 PM: Shawn I don’t see a package

(Shawn) 9:45 PM: Mom must’ve brought it inside, I’m sure it’s there.

With a huff, you shoved the key into the door, and walked inside. Chucking your purse and coat onto the hooks, while flinging off your shoes, you composed yourself enough to look for the package. If he got it express-shipped it had to be good. Checking the kitchen was no luck, and the living room looked normal.

(Shawn) 9:48 PM: Bedroom, babe

With a gasp, you quickly buzzed to the bedroom, and laid your hand on the door. You stopped, hesitant to what was behind the door. What if it isn’t him? Taking a deep breath, you dismissed the negative thought and opened.

The room was filled with lit tea lights, rose petals on the bed and the floor, and Shawn. He was standing there in that chunky-white knit sweater you loved, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, holding a bouquet of flowers, and your favorite song playing softly in the background.

You gasped, running into his arms with a squeal and sob, him mimicking the sound. He held onto the small of your back, and one hand on the back of your neck, and you felt his tears falling onto your skin. “I missed you so much, (Y/N). You don’t even know.” He pulled back slightly pressing his lips to yours in a soft embrace.

After a minute of kissing, you pulled back. “Merry Christmas, Shawn.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

#shawn #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #imagine #love #christmas #lumineshawn

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sexy-monster-fucker · 4 years

Text

Fuck Me Up

NSFW Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader

requested by anon: Eddie/Venom w/ a girl that has serious daddy kink (bc that’s me) Like she accidentally slipped it out and it just turned on Both Eddie and Venom so freakin much but Eddie just don’t want to admit but venom is like a super freak about it that will be nice thanks

requested by anon: *slips quietly into the ask box with a hoodie pulled down over their face and slips a little note in before quickly running away into the night* 'What if Venom has a daddy and/or breeding kink?' *as you look at the note all you can think is* 'wtf'

requested by anon: hello 🅱️🅱️ could you do some kinky eddie/venom x reader where the reader has a daddy kink 👁👄👁 oops maybe some ddlg factors in there

warning: male dom, explicit smut, daddy kink, oral

Eddie kicked the door shut behind him as he held your waist in his hands. Your lips were pressed together tightly. You had been waiting for this all night. You had went to a nice dinner with Eddie, it was a treat. It made you feel special to know he cared so much about you.

Eddie took you there to make you feel like a princess for a night. The princess he knew you were, at least to him. He had been craving you all night. He wanted you more than anything right now. Even at dinner, all he could think about was getting on top of you. He watched you eat, wishing you were putting something else in your mouth. Venom made sure to play into Eddie’s thought. “Just wait ‘til we take her home,” he placed the thought inside Eddie’s mind. He had already been thinking about you, but the monster amplified his feelings. It took everything in him to keep from growing stiff at dinner. The little dress you wore only encouraged him more. Your breasts hung out and your ass was very visible. Every curve could be seen, nothing was hidden. It made him more territorial of you tonight. He could feel Venom stewing inside him anytime any male even slightly looked at you. Even if it was the waiter asking you for your order, he was angry. You were his, not anyone else’s. He only wanted his eyes on you. He knew he was being dramatic, but that did not matter when Venom got involved. “We will show her who she belongs to very soon,” he hissed in the back of Eddie’s mind.

He held onto the back of your neck tight, his lips pressing even more firmly against yours. He had you pinned against the wall next to the door. He ran a hand down your backside, grabbing your ass and squeezing it. You moaned at his touch. Eddie purred at your sound, “Tell me, princess. Who did you go and get all dressed up for tonight?” You smiled through his kisses, “You, Ed.” He grinned, “Oh? Little ole me? Is that so?” Eddie bit his lip. He ran his hand up your dress, stopping at your soaking opening. “Oh, God. Already so worked up, little girl? I did not know I had this kind of affect on you,” his mouth hung open. He stuck two thick fingers inside you and began thrusting. Your head fell back against the wall. “Damn, you’re so tight,” Eddie growled.

Eddie nipped at your neck, “Now... tell me, who is it that you belong to?” Your breath was escaping you. His fingers pumping inside you had your mind spinning. “You, daddy,” you spit out. Eddie’s motions stopped and he pulled his lips from your neck. His eyes looked into yours, “What did you just call me?” You felt your cheeks fill with your embarrassment. “I-I-I’m sorry... I-It just slipped out... I-I-I,” you muttered under your breath. “Say it again,” Eddie whispered breathlessly. You bit your lip and whispered, “Daddy.” Eddie breathed out quickly. His expression was serious. “Holy fuck. You have no idea how much that turns me on,” he whispered. His breathing became heavy. A new sensation of running through him. He felt more dominant than ever. You were his, and you admitted it. He placed a firm hand on your neck, “So, you’re daddy’s little girl, eh? Never thought you’d call me that. But, God, I am happy you did.” His hand felt so good on your neck. He was being so dominant. You wanted him now more than ever.

Suddenly you felt something crawling up your leg. “So, we’ve got a new nickname,” Venom growled in your ear. Eddie’s attention did not leave you even with the arrival of Venom. Venom wrapped himself around you, making his way under your dress and feeling you. You shivered at his touch. Eddie cupped your cheek in his hand, “Oh, the things I am going to do to you tonight. You have no idea what you’ve done to me now.” He pressed his lips back to yours, sloppily. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you,” he mumbled. In a swift motion, he picked you up and began carrying you to the bedroom. Venom stared at you the entire way, his arousal very apparent. Eddie laid you on the bed gently. You looked up at him. He rubbed his hands together as he stood looking over you. He bunched up your dress, revealing your lace panties. He quickly pulled them off, throwing them to the floor. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss against your lips, “How would daddy’s girl feel if he worked a little magic before fully going in?” You shook your head in agreement. “That’s what I like to hear,” he groaned. He knelt down in front of your opening. He placed your legs on each shoulder. He pressed his face between them, licking up your slit. You threw your head back in pleasure, moaning his name. Eddie bit his lip, “Now, now. What is my actual name?” You moaned, “Daddy.” “That’s more like it,” he growled. He pressed his face deeper between your legs, his touch began making circles on your clit. You gripped the sheets below you, balling them up in your hand. You called out to him, making sure to call him the thing he wanted to be called. He moved his attention to your inner thigh, kissing and biting it. He shoved three hefty fingers inside you, pumping them fast. “Fuck, daddy,” you could feel yourself getting close to the edge.

Eddie promptly pulled his fingers out of you, standing up. You whined at his sudden movement. “Bratty little girl, aren’t you? Don’t worry, daddy is about to give you the thing you’ve been wanting,” he purred above you. He pulled his pants down, revealing his member being contained by his boxers. You bit your lip in anticipation. He slowly pulled his boxers down, teasing you. When he finally revealed his long, hard cock you groaned at the site. You could feel yourself quivering at the site of him. You suddenly felt Venom wrap himself around you neck, “Now then, tell us what you want us to do to you.” You moaned, “Fuck me.” Venom licked your neck, “Who do you want to fuck you, baby girl?” You groaned. Eddie grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head. His cock was resting at your opening, one thrust and he’d be inside. Eddie looked you in the eyes, “You heard him. We don’t know who you want to fuck you unless you tell us.” You licked your lips, “You, daddy. I want you to fuck me.” Venom growled in your ear, “Good girl.”

With one swift motion, Eddie’s cock was inside you. You screamed out in euphoria. It was music to Eddie and Venom’s ears. “Fuck. Daddy’s little princess knows exactly what he wants to hear,” Eddie moaned. He thrusted inside you, keeping a steady pace. Venom kept his grip on your neck, now also holding your wrists above your head. Eddie held your hips in his large hands. “Faster, daddy,” you called out. Eddie smiled, “As you wish.” He picked up the pace, pounding into you now. You could feel your orgasm approaching, but you did not want to finish until you knew Eddie would allow it. “D-Daddy, I-I’m real close. Do I-I have you-your permission,” you asked. “Of course, baby. Cum for me,” he purred. Your orgasm ripped through you. Your entire body was tingling from the sensation. Eddie soon followed after you. He finished inside you, making sure to fill you up.

Eddie laid down beside you, pulling you into his arms. He kissed you on the head, “Daddy’s girl.” You giggled, “Always.”

~~~

End

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#eddie brock #venom #venom x reader #eddie brock x reader #venom 2018 #im back bitches #tom hardy #tags #one shot

617 notes · View notes

emcon-imagines · 3 years

Text

Let Each One Hear Her Own Thoughts

gif

words: 1665 notes: based off of this post I made after the Wandavision finale. for those of you unfamiliar with my OC Willow featured in this story, you can read about her here, or just dive right in and enjoy this little post WV fic! Willow and Wanda share a sister-like relationship after meeting at the compound years ago, when Wanda took Willow under her wing pre-Civil War. summary: Wanda receives a regular visitor at her cabin, someone repaying a favor they owe her from years ago.

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

It was still sunny when Willow cleared the mountains and started over the lake, the late afternoon light casting golden shadows on the waves down below. She hadn’t heard a quiet like this in a long time, perhaps in five years, and back then, the quiet was more suffocating. This one wasn’t. It was freeing.

She could see why Wanda had retreated here.

On the opposite shore, the cabin came into view and Willow began her descent, her back aching from the long flight and her heavy backpack. New York City felt a long way away—try as she might, she could never make the trip in a single day. Maybe it was for the better. Time spent in the city was chaotic, busy, full of responsibilities she didn’t feel ready for yet. She still felt herself looking to someone like Natasha for the answers, only to remember that she wasn’t there.

Wanda was sitting on the porch, cup of tea in one hand and the other shielding her eyes from the sun as Willow approached. Her feet hit ground, the grass just poking through the melted snow, the air smelling like spring and dirt. “Hey,” Willow said, stretching her wings out one last time before folding them in, though not all the way. Another reason she appreciated the cabin. There was nothing to hide here, no strangers spying on her every move. Her wings could touch daylight.

“Hey,” Wanda said, standing and turning towards the house. “I hope the trip—”

“It wasn’t bad,” Willow answered quickly. “It’s nice to… you know… get away from everything right now.” She followed Wanda into the cabin, the smell of dust and pine had almost become a comfort to her. On the table, she set down her backpack, unzipping it and pulling out several plastic bags. “I think I got everything—except for the cereal, they didn’t have that brand, so I went to another store, and even asked but they didn’t have it either.” She passed a box to Wanda. “So… this is similar?”

“You didn’t have to do all that,” Wanda said, and the corner of her mouth lifted as she set the box down. “I’m not picky.”

Willow shrugged. “I am.” She nodded at Wanda. “You know, in case the roles are ever reversed, the brand does matter to me…”

“I get it.”

“Bread,” Willow said, handing the bag to Wanda. “I hope it’s not squished. It got bumpy over the mountain pass.” She pulled a few more plastic bags from her backpack. “Oh! And look!” She held up one of the bags so that Wanda could peer inside. “I forgot which spices you said you needed, so there’s like… an assortment… there.”

“What’s in here?” Wanda asked as she searched through one of the bags with produce. “Are these… baby carrots?”

“Yup.” Wanda gave Willow a questioning look and Willow rolled her eyes as she zipped her backpack up and slid it against the wall. “Oh, come on. The Scarlet Witch or whatever still should eat a vegetable once in a while.” The joke rolled off her tongue easily enough, and she hoped it would be received that way as well.

“Now you sound like Natasha,” Wanda said, and she began to put away the items Willow had brought.

“Well, someone has to,” Willow said, the weight of her own words settling uncomfortably as she thought over the last few weeks. “Anyways…”

“You all right?” Wanda asked, turning back around from the cabinets. Willow had taken to wandering the cabin, tucking her wings in further as she navigated the small space.

“Well, you know. It is what it is.” Willow paused, trying to put what she was feeling into words. “It’s a weird time to be alive. You?”

Wanda didn’t respond, half-smiling as she shut the cabinet door, though there was no joy in the smile, just exhaustion. Willow sat down on the couch, wanting to say more, and yet not knowing what to say. She stared out the window at the darkening sky, the mountains disappearing into the clouds and the purple horizon. Where do we go from here?

Willow leaned over the back of the old couch to face Wanda, who was still heating a pot of water on the stove. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Willow asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Wanda said with a sigh.

“Oh. Oka—”

“No, I’m— sorry.” Wanda looked up at Willow and leaned back on the sink, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her sweater as she thought. “I’m pretty sure I used to tell you the same thing, a long time ago. I know you’re just trying to help.” The pot on the stove began to simmer and Wanda turned her attention back to it, opening a box of pasta that Willow had delivered the previous week, and dumping enough of the shells into the pot for the both of them. “I’m glad you’re here,” she finally said. “After everything… you still…”

“You’d do the same for me,” Willow said. “You did the same thing for me. Remember when I first showed up at the compound?”

“Mm. It was like trying to tame a feral cat.”

Normally, Willow would have a retort back, but she only smiled at the memory, and then started laughing. “Yeah. I was really… scared, actually. When SHIELD found me, I thought my life was over.”

“How are the others?” Wanda asked. “I… well… I’m not sure they’d…” She gestured around at the cabin and shrugged helplessly.

“No, they’re just busy,” Willow answered. She laid her head in her arms as she continued to lean across the back of the couch and yawned. “Sam is with Bucky… I haven’t even begun to look into what they’re doing and honestly, I’m not ready to. But I have a feeling it’ll catch up to me eventually. It always does. Rhodey’s still at Stark’s, helping them sort through things. Clint’s home. Same with Scott, he’s home too. Remember Scott? He was at the airport. He was the one who came up with the whole time travel thing. Sort of. So, I’d say things have quieted down, but I don’t want to jinx it.”

The pasta finished and Wanda carefully used a spoon to hold back the pasta as she strained the water out before splitting the shells into two bowls and opened a jar of sauce on the shelf to pour over each one. “Cheese is in the fridge,” she said, and Willow got up to get it, also getting out two forks and two cups from the cabinet.

They sat on the floor, in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room, the cabin lit by a warm glow.

“You really just buy the cheese for yourself, huh?” Wanda asked as Willow screwed the top off of the bottle to shake out the Parmesan cheese faster. “I’m pretty sure you’ve gone through two of those in a month, and you’ve only been here for a few nights.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s called living deliciously,” Willow said.

For a while, the two of them ate in silence, the only sound the scraping of their forks against the bowls and the occasional press of wind rocking the cabin. It reminded Willow of the late-night dinners they used to make at the compound, long after everyone had gone to sleep, as they tried their damn hardest to not burn anything or set off the smoke detectors, which happened a few times too many.

“I saw a rat drag an entire burrito across the street the other day,” Willow said suddenly, finally tiring of the quiet.

“What?” Wanda asked.

“A rat. Like the size of a rabbit. Dragging a burrito across the street in Hells Kitchen. A fully wrapped burrito, filling and all. And it didn’t spill even a little of the filling. I stood there and watched the whole thing; I mean it took this rat like five minutes and cars were coming both ways.” She paused to scoop up a clump of sauce and cheese.

“Well?” Wanda said. “Did he make it?”

“Oh, he did,” Willow said. “I mean, it was close, the burrito got grazed by a tire once or twice, but he got it across the street. At one point he started rolling it on its side… now that was really something. It was like I was watching evolution in real time.”

Wanda smiled for the first time that day, a real smile, and it made Willow’s heart swell just a little, proud of the victory, no matter how small. “Hmm, we’re going to see that rat signing the Accords in a few weeks then,” Wanda responded with a small laugh.

“Yeah, right after the pigeon I saw take what I’m pretty sure was a deliberate poop on a cop car yesterday.”

They finished dinner and Willow cleaned up, washing the bowls and utensils in the sink and leaving them out to dry on the counter. She was exhausted, exhausted from the flight, the past week, and she was almost certain that if she wasn’t doing the dishes, she’d fall asleep standing up. She heard the crackle of static as Wanda turned the radio on, beaming in a signal from a lonely public radio station somewhere in the mountains. With a yawn, Willow climbed back over the top of the couch, plopping down and stretching as she tucked one of the pillows under her head.

“Oh, there’s no way you’re going to be able to stay awake for ten,” Wanda said, referencing the time their show started, some true crime radio show that they had been tuning into in lieu of a television and their usual fight over sitcoms, reality television, and documentaries, the latter which usually won out.

“No, I’ll make it,” Willow said. “Creature of the night and all.”

“Have you still been having them?” Wanda asked, laying down across the armchair that cornered the couch.

“What? No,” Willow said. “Not in a long time.”

“So, you’ve been sleeping?”

“Yeah.” Willow knew she didn’t sound convincing, but Wanda didn’t say anything else on the matter, the two of them sitting and listening to the radio as fuzzy alternative music came gently through the small speaker.

In Willow’s mind, there were plenty of other problems beyond stray nightmares, and besides, she knew she’d sleep just fine that night.

#wanda maximoff #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch #wandavision

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markleesthighs · 5 years

Text

Black Mamba | Chapter 2

Pairings: Reader x Mark Lee, Reader x Hendery, Reader x Jaehyun, feat. ot21

Genre: NCT mafia!au, angst, fluff, light smut (suggestive), comical

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating and drugs

Words: 3.415k

【 ❶ ➁ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼】

Chapter 2 - Judas Kiss

Valentine’s Day, Seoul, Korea, 2023

You were planning to take Mark out on a date for your anniversary, you were able to book a restaurant and super excited to take Mark. You both have been busy lately, both of you had not left the mansion in a while, and this would be an excellent opportunity to go out. After you got the call for the confirmation, you walked to Mark’s office to go tell him. But before you could open the door, you heard the other boys talking to him about what to do for Valentine’s Day.

“Boss, how long has it been since you’ve gone out?” Jaehyun asked

“I’ve been busy trying to manage you, numskulls.”

“We are all planning on going to hit the club tonight, you should come,” Johnny added.

“Nah, you guys go on your own.”

“C’ mon boss, how long has it been since you’ve had a girl over?” Taeyong asked

“It’s none of your business.”

“Mark, we all know you haven’t had one over in forever,” Donghyuck Responded.

The truth was, Mark did everything he can to avoid the boys from finding out about you two. Whether that was you hiding in the closet, or waiting ten minutes to exit the same room, it was what you promised between each other. Mark also made his room soundproof, to ensure no one would hear both of you in the same place. Mark sighed and gave a somewhat forced answer.

“…fine I’ll go.”

“YES!!” Cheered Yuta

You heard them walking by the door, so you quickly made it look like you were walking to the supplies closet looking for materials for your next weapon. The guys saw you, excited to know what your latest invention was.

“y/n! y/n! What are you working on!” Donghyuck asked

“Well, if I told you I would ruin the surprise.”

“Can’t you give us a little hint?”

“Fine.”

“You guys have to use this on night missions.”

“Ohhhhhhh”

“Well, I have to get back to the lab, I’ll see all of you.”

“Bye y/n!!”

You obviously made that weapon up, but right now you just wanted to go into the lab and reflect on what just happened. You walked into the lab and just sat in there for an hour fiddling your pen, thinking about what to do. You trusted Mark, but you had hoped he would have remembered to do something or anything for your anniversary. He knows that you didn’t like flowers, but in past anniversaries he at least got you a gift and spent more time with you for the day. Last year, he spent the whole day in the lab saying he was “testing” and “approving” your weapons. When in reality, you both were having a secret date inside the lab and couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

The thought of being engaged and getting married crossed your mind, since some of your friends had gotten engaged around three or four years of dating someone. You would say yes, but was this the right time? You decided to head to the bathhouses to clear your mind and think of different things to take your mind off your worries.

The bathhouses were inspired by Japanese onsens, and since you were the only girl in a high ranking position, you got the bathhouse to yourself. Your juniors and other trainees had other houses where they bathed. You let the hot water and steam relax your body, and you watched as there was a light snowfall. Watching the delicate flakes of snow melting softly into the hot water made you feel calm, and forget what you were worried about.

However, when you stepped out and walked back into the mansion, it was extremely quiet. You then asked a maid carrying towels where they went.

“They went out tonight miss.”

Right. They were going to the club. On Valentine’s Day. On your anniversary. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt as you walked to your bedroom to change into one of Mark’s hoodies, it smelled like whiskey and his old spice. You tried to sleep, and you were tossing and turning and looked at the clock, 12:00 AM. You realized that you needed to find out for yourself if Mark indeed was staying loyal or else you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You got up and changed into your clothes (with weapons secretly equipped in pockets of course) which was all black, and you wore a black mask to cover your face.

You rode your motorbike near the club and had to walk through a big park to get there since everyone came to this club on Valentines Day, and it’s hard to get in. You noticed that this was the park that you and Mark had your first official date in the public.

You remembered how he violently chased the pigeons and picked up a bunch of flowers for you. It was good and heartwarming memories that reminded you of Mark. But you quickly snapped out of it and focused at the task at hand. You had debated whether to go or not, determining the probability of him catching you there or how he would react. You even wondered if you were just being paranoid and doubting Mark.

“What am I going to do if he sees me?”

“What happens if he is cheating on me?”

“Am I just going crazy?”

“What if I am worried for nothing, god I feel so stupid.”

“So, I am actually doing this, you can do it y/n.”

But you decided, fuck it, let’s just do it, if he sees me, then so be it. You walked up to the bodyguards, and you showed them your NCT tattoo, and they let you in immediately with no question. But of course, everyone else waiting started to yell at them wondering how you magically get to waltz inside. When you got in your eardrums hurt like hell, this was one of the main reasons why you didn’t like clubs. First off, even though you were in a mafia group, you didn’t drink or smoke, you just didn’t like either preferably.

The place clearly reached of alcohol, pot, marijuana, and flavored vape smoke. So many drunk and high people dancing, along with flashing lights, was not your forte. Also, the fact that people were sniffing cocaine and smoking out of rainbow bongs did not help either. You also realized that this particular club as also a strip club, so strippers and naked girls are everywhere. You did notice a bunch of men trying to hit on you, but once you almost broke the arm of a guy trying to grope your ass, they all seemed to back away from you.

You tried to desperately find Mark or even the group, there were so many people and so many sweaty bodies you couldn’t wait to get out of this shit hole. You eventually saw all of them sitting in a booth laughing and drinking, you can tell Mark was drunk because he was really touchy with all of the members and his face has a slight pink tint. You were relieved he was just drinking and not doing other things.

But as you are just going to leave out of the corner of your eye, you saw a girl walk over to Mark and sat on his lap. You turned, and with no hesitation, he started to make out with her and holding her the way he held you. You saw all the boys hooting and hollering Mark. You saw him smiling, which you haven’t seen in a long time.

But there was only one person not following along, which was Donghyuck, who looked uncomfortable in this situation. That led him to notice you with watery eyes, and you quickly ran out of there as fast as your legs could carry you. You ran and ran for miles while knowing Donghyuck was following you, hearing his footsteps linger behind you. You ran not looking back, feeling your tears stream your cheeks as millions of thoughts fill your head.

“Is he happy?”

“Why did he do this?”

“What is wrong with me?

“What is this feeling?

“Why does my throat have a lump?”

“Why does my chest feel heavy?”

“Why are my eyes filled with water?”

“Why did he do this?”

“Did he forget about me?”

The only time you remembered crying like this was at your parents funeral, you have never cried since. For once, you felt hurt again, and you felt betrayed by someone you loved in a long time. You felt sick and vulnerable.

“Why did you make me feel this way?”

You wondered if you ever made him happy. You questioned if he ever loved you. You thought if you were ever enough for Mark.

“Was this just a game?”

“Was my loyalty for three years worth nothing?”

“Did I just waste my time?”

But the footsteps never stopped

“y/n!! Wait!”

You kept running and running until your tears dried up from the wind created while you were running. You ran into the park and sat on a bench with lightly stained tears as Donghyuck caught up to you panting and sat down the bench with you. At this point, you’ve cried enough, and now you are just deep in thought, figuring out an excuse to tell him.

“y/n? why were you at the club?”

“I-I heard you guys were going out…I just- wanted to make sure you guys were okay.”

“Aw, that's so nice of you y/n.”

“Hey! Don’t tell the guys about this, I don’t want them to know I actually care or look out for you or whatever.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them.”

“So, how is guys’ night out?”

“Eh, same old same old, but now it’s interesting now that Mark came with us, he’s usually extremely busy during this time.”

“Well, I should let you get back to your guys night, I’ll be going home.”

“Ride home safe y/n.”

“You know, I will.”

You walked to your motorbike watching Donghyuck casually walk back to that disgusting place, now reminding you what had just happened. You put on your helmet and felt tears falling, and you kept riding faster and faster in anger, wanting to get away. You came home to your face streaming with tears as you walked to the shooting range. You always went there to let out your anger and emotions while practicing your shooting, which was never rusty.

You took a gun from the lab and shot about 10 targets all either all shot in the head or heart. You soon felt calm and emotionally stable after and walked back to the bedroom. You grabbed and changed back into the pajamas you had before, sadly smelling Mark on the hoodie. You had gotten tired and fell asleep for a while.

3 AM, you heard a rally of screaming and drunk men burst through the front door, indicating that they all had just come home from their guys night. You heard footsteps come towards the bedroom door and someone struggling to open the door and eventually opened it. You saw a drunk Mark with lipstick all over his face and hickeys down his neck. His belt was undone, and his pants were all wrinkled, now indicating he did cheat on you. He smelled like cheap flowers and champagne, and suddenly tears filled up your eyes, and you couldn’t see through the blur.

“Whyyyy are yyyouuu wearinggg myy hoodies?”

“You-“

“Whooo saidd youuu couuld wear them?”

“Y-“

“Only peeeople I loveee get to weaaar them. Soooo why are you wearing ittt.”

“…”

“I SAID”

Mark suddenly grabbed you forcefully and shoved you against the wall demanding to know why you were in his room, wearing one of his hoodies. Your eyes were now overflowing with tears, Mark never, in his three years of dating you yelled or shoved you like that. This was someone else, this wasn’t Mark.

“ANSWER ME WOMAN”

“Y-you said I-I-I could w-wear them.”

“WHEN DID I SAY THAT, I NEVER LOVED YOU”

“…”

After that he slapped you in the face and forcefully removed the hoodie from your body, leaving you half-naked.

“NOW GET OUT OF MY ROOM!! I NEVER ASKED FOR ANOTHER WHORE TONIGHT!”

“…”

“I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!!”

Without any hesitation you left, half naked crying so hard you couldn’t breathe, and you ran to your old bedroom. It was just as you had left it, but there was no dust since the maids cleaned every room regardless if it was used or not. Your old clothes were still in the closet, and your old Crocodile jacket was still hanging in there. Your bed was cold and untouched, and it felt weird to try to sleep in here after three years.

You rummaged through your drawers to find an oversized shirt you had gotten at your old apartment. You wore it, feeling cold, not used to wearing a shirt rather than a hoodie. You tucked yourself in, and for one, felt lonely and vulnerable, there was no one to sleep next to you, no one to hold you, no one to love you. Not to your surprise, you had trouble sleeping, you missed sleeping with Mark, and not used to sleeping on your own. You decided to go get some tea to calm you down, a nice cup of chamomile would help.

You walked down the stairs and found Hendry already in the kitchen looking for something as well. You knew Hendery, he was new to the team, but you always knew about his night cravings, since so many of the members complained about it. He did not go out with the guys because he also wasn’t too fond of drinking or clubbing. It looked like he already made a pot of tea and was drinking some on his own.

“Oh, hi y/n, would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

“It’s jasmine if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Hendery took out another teacup and poured you some, and you both drank in silence.

“Is there something on your mind y/n?”

“Yeah…how did you know?”

“You usually don’t wake up in the middle of the night to have tea if you don’t want to calm your thoughts.”

You sighed as you placed your cup down and decided to let your thoughts out to him, he visited your lab a couple of times and was kind enough to deliver you lunch sometimes.

“It’s stupid

“It can’t be stupid if you are thinking about it so much.”

“I just broke up, with someone and it’s just hard to comprehend.”

“Ah, with Mark, right?”

You immediately froze and looked at him in awe.

“H-how did you find out?”

“I saw the signs and subtle flirting with each other, also do you think I’m that stupid to not notice you two going into the same room during the night and come out of the same room early in the morning?”

“Hm…you have a good point.”

“I heard him yelling, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, he was just really drunk, but I’ve never seen him like that. Usually, when he is drunk, he can’t keep his hands off me.”

“I saw he was with someone else, are you okay about him cheating on you?”

“Yeah, but, nah, its just- dumb.”

“No, no, no, let it out.”

“I-I got him a present for our anniversary and Valentine’s Day, but I don’t even think he remembered.”

You revealed a watch that Mark always wanted. You noticed that he kept looking at his clock or phone for the time, and never owned a nice watch. It had your anniversary date on it engraved and had both of your initials on it as well. You showed Hendery, and he looked at it and you in pity. You started to cry again, to which Hendery comforted you, pulling you into his embraced and you cried on his shoulder while he rubbed your back.

“Why did he have to do it?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“God, I’m so stupid.”

Was one of the few things you choked up while crying into Hendery. He looked at you with a comforting smile and reassured you of all your worries.

“You, are fucking y/n y/l/n, the damn Black Mamba, ex-Crocodile, okay? No one deserves to have you, and whoever does get to keep you is a lucky man, because they will get to love the most badass, loving, and hardworking woman I have ever seen.”

“Aw, you mean it?”

“…yeah, you are always there, looking out for trainees and constantly working in your lab and helping out many members on their missions.”

“Now, don’t think you will magically fall in love and date me because I’m a mess right now.”

“Whatever you say, princess, now go get some rest I’ll clean up.”

You got up from Hendery’s chest and started to walk back.

“Hey Hendery”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here for me.”

You walked up and pecked his cheek.

“Now, don’t inflate your ego, man.”

He just smiled and waved to you going to bed. You walked back to your dark, and cold room that smelled like fresh cotton, no more musk, whiskey, or cigarette smell lingered in the room. Now calm, you fell into a deep sleep, hoping to never wake up.

You woke up early to help provide some hangover care packages for the guys, knowing they would be in pain for the whole day. You told the chef to prepare the best hangover foods such as eggs and bacon, grilled cheeses, smoothies, and a whole buffet for them. You also provided them with some pain killers and water for their headaches.

Soon, all of them slowly got out of their beds and took some painkillers and food thanking you for helping them. But the last one to come out was Mark, who shuffled his way over to you. You thought he would secretly rub your arm or hold your hand, but he just took his painkillers and food and didn’t even look at you. It was weird. You thought he was just tired and hungover, so he couldn’t even comprehend trying to flirt with you.

“Hey, there’s the man of the hour,” Donghyuck said

“How was a/n (any name) last night?” Asked Jaehyun

“She was…nice, I got her number, we are going on a date later, I want to get to know her better.”

“AYYY THATS MY DUDE” Johnny yelled

“hey, please stop screaming, it's hurting my head” scolded Taeil.

A date? Why would they be going on a date? Is this a cover-up for us dating? Mark got up, looked at you, and you thought he was about to say something to you, maybe a “sorry” or a pity look.

“Here are the dishes.”

“…”

You took them in shock

“Did I just hear that right?”

He gave no reaction or sympathy? Why is he acting this way? So many questions flooded your head while Hendery looked at you in pity, knowing how much pain and confusion you are going through. Mark just walked back and started calling on his phone. You all eventually went back to work just like a normal day. You were in the lab, and Mark only came in to talk about missions and weapons, there was no love or care in his voice.

He was acting super professional when he usually would act the complete opposite when you two were in the lab alone. This wasn’t Mark, this was the leader of NCT, this was someone who didn’t love you. This was someone who ran a mafia group, this was not someone to fall in love with. He stopped texting you and only called you for weaponry matters. You were working on data statistics for weapons and you couldn’t keep your mind off last night and this morning. You then eventually got to thinking about why it seemed that you were just another worker as you were before, three years ago. Until it hit you.

What if he forgot about me?

What if he forgot about us?

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

Turtle Pond

Turtle Pond - A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 3818

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (Vaginal sex)

Synopsis: You meet a man while he’s feeding ducks and you both decided to make it a habit.

Turtle Pond

You stroll along the path that skirts the outside of the Great Lawn in Central Park. It’s a warm day and the lawn is swarming with people on each side. Lying in the sun. Listening to music and talking. There are a lot of couples making out and families playing. You turn around the corner and the trees return. Adding that pleasant cool you always associate with being in the Park. When you reach the statue of King Jagiello sitting astride his horse and holding his swords aloft you turn towards Turtle Pond.

There’s a couple of families taking an opportunity to rest on the wall that surrounds an open paved area that occasionally holds seating but today stands empty. Their faces are flushed from exertion. On the other side of the wall, people take up residence on stones around the edge of Turtle Pond. Some sitting and looking at Belvedere Castle up on the hill on the other side of the pond. Some just talking and resting their feet. There’s a lady painting. And a couple of children are trying to coax a turtle out of the water with a piece of reed.

You find an empty rock to sit on between a couple who can’t stop staring into each other's eyes and a man with long dark hair and who is wearing far too many clothes for such a warm day. He’s eating a sandwich and drinking coffee from a Thermos. You can smell its pleasant aroma from where you sit.

You pull out your own lunch and as you start to eat a small group of ducks swims over. The lure of two potential food sources too strong for them.

The man beside you tears a piece of his sandwich off and throws it to them. They squabble over the piece of crust and more come to join them.

“Sorry, I am totally gonna come off as a complete bitch and I really don’t mean to. But you shouldn’t feed them bread. It’s really bad for them.” You say.

He looks at you startled. “Oh no.” He says. “I always fed them bread when I was a kid. I thought it was okay.”

“It’s alright. Most people don’t know. But they don’t get any nutrition from it. They end up starving with full bellies. Also, it can compact in their throat and the only way to clear it is surgery.” You say.

“Shit. Sorry.” He says.

“Thank you.” You say, smiling at him.

He looks at you puzzled. His hair hangs over his eyes and when he brushes it off, you see they’re a beautiful shade of grey/blue. “What for? I was just murdering ducks.”

You laugh. “For listening. Mostly when I tell people, they tell me to fuck off and mind my own business.”

“People are jerks.” He says.

You reach into your bag and pull out a Tupperware container and a paper bag. You take the lid off the container and place it in reach of both of you. You then open the bag and offer it to him. “You can feed them this if you like.”

He reaches into the bag and takes out a handful of cracked corn. “You brought corn for them special?”

You blush. “Yeah. And the grapes. But the turtles like them too. Also sometimes I just eat them.”

He tosses the corn and the ducks start collecting up as much as they can. A couple of turtles start heading in your direction, the fracas the ducks are making drawing their attention.

“That’s really sweet. You really like ducks, huh?” He asks.

“Um… yeah. I like animals in general. I work as a vet assistant. And I volunteer with a group that rehabilitates New York wildlife. It’s mostly pigeons, to be honest. You can see them over near West 87th and Columbus.” You babble. The two turtles have made it over to the edge of your rocks and you toss half a grape down to them. They both try to grab it and miss and the piece of fruit sinks into the water.

The man takes two grape halves and places them about two inches apart on the rock right at the edge of the water. “That’s really swell.” He says. The turtles pop their heads out of the water and start eating the grapes as he settles back on the rock. He takes another grape half and pops it in his mouth.

Neither of you says anything for a moment. He takes a drink of his coffee and you throw another handful of corn to the ducks before taking a huge mouthful of your own food.

“Where do you get the special duck corn from?” The man asks.

You try to answer with the word Amazon, but your mouth is so stuffed it just comes out ‘ah-ah-on.’ You cover your mouth and look at him mortified as he throws his head back in laughter. A few ducks take off, scared by the sounds and the two turtles retract their heads into their shells.

You hurriedly chew and swallow your food. “Oh god. I’m sorry. I’m a pig. Amazon. I order it on Amazon.”

“You buy special duck corn on the Internet?” He asks. “Damn. You must really love the ducks.”

“I do.” You take a handful of the food and scoot right to the edge of the water holding your hand out. Two of the more brazen ducks paddle over and start cautiously pecking the corn out of your hand.

“Look at you, kid. You’re like a genuine Disney Princess.” The man says.

The two children who were trying to feed the turtle see what you’re doing and scramble over the rocks to take a closer look. “Can we try that?” The older boy asks. You hand the children the bag and let them take over duck feeding duty before sitting back on the rock.

The man smiles at you and goes to say something when his phone buzzes. He pulls it out of his pocket. “Shit.” He says. “Gotta go. It was nice meeting you, Snow White.”

He stands and salutes you before jumping from rock to rock and disappearing back into the park.

One week later you’re sitting on a rock on the edge of Turtle Pond eating your lunch and scattering cracked corn on the rocks around you to entice the birds out of the water. The pond is quieter today. Just a couple taking selfies together, trying to get the castle in the background and another lone woman four rocks down enjoying her own lunch in the sun.

“Hey, it’s the duck gal.” A familiar voice says. You look up to see the same man from last week hopping the wall and walking towards you. Once again dressed very warmly for such a pleasant summer’s day. The gloves are the thing that surprises you. Leather gloves in this heat must feel awful. “I was hoping I’d see you again.”

You smile up at him as he approaches you. “I’m here every Saturday. Weather permitting.”

He sits beside you. Not so close that you feel uncomfortable, but close enough that it feels familiar. Some of the ducks scatter and quack at the disturbance. “That’s good to know.” He smiles.

He pulls his lunch from his backpack. Another sandwich and the thermos of coffee. He has some halved grapes this time too. He tosses some to the end of the rock. A few roll into the water and some ducks pick up a couple but most sit there waiting for some turtles to notice them.

“You brought grapes.” You remark.

“I liked watching the turtles eat them.” He says.

“If you bring strawberries it’s cuter. They like them more and the juice gets all over their faces.” You reply.

He smiles at you. “I’ll remember that for next time.” He offers you his hand. “My names Bucky.” He says.

You shake it and give him your name. “Bucky’s an unusual name.” You say.

He runs his hand through his hair and lets it fall over his eyes. “It’s a nickname. My real name is James.”

“Normally people named James get it shortened to Jim. Which really barely makes any sense. Maybe more than Bucky though. Where did Bucky come from?” You muse.

Bucky looks flustered. “I – well – my middle name is Buchanan. I don’t know why people decided to go with that. Everyone did though. I like it more than James or Jimmy. It’s just mine.”

“Okay then. Bucky it is.” You say.

You offer some of the corn to Bucky and he tosses a hand full so it scatters across the surface of the water. “I went by the rescue last week. Those pigeons are fancy. I like the one with the feathery feet.”

“I call him boots. He’s a fairy swallow pigeon. He probably came from some rooftop breeder and got tangled up in some trash. I’m sure we’ll find him his home again.” You say.

For some reason, the conversation stays on pigeons for a really long time. It never feels forced though. He’s weirdly interested in everything you say. You talk about different breeds. How you think they’re misunderstood. How they keep insect populations down. How they aren’t diseased like everyone says they’ve just adapted to be around people. After a while, an alarm goes off on his phone and he pulls it out and switches it off.

“Shit. I have to go back to work. I can’t believe we just talked about pigeons for half an hour and I actually enjoyed it. You’re something else, doll.” Bucky says, getting up and wiping himself off. “I’ll bring strawberries next time. Maybe you’ll be here too.”

“I usually am.” You reply.

One week later you’re in the same spot where you were the previous week. It’s more overcast today. It looks like you’re in for a summer shower. You’re the only one there. Some people are sitting on the wall eating, but no one is around Turtle Pond at all. Bucky arrives five minutes after you and sits on the rock beside you. A little closer than last time. The way your hands rest on the rough surface of the rock if you moved your hand even an inch they’d be touching.

“I brought strawberries,” Bucky says.

“They’ll love that.” You reply.

He shifts onto his knees and starts trying to coax a turtle out of the water with a strawberry. It bites the fruit while still in the water and then follows Bucky’s hand leading it out. It sits on the rock slowly eating the strawberry. Its face turning pink from the juice.

“Look at how happy it looks.” You say, grinning.

Bucky looks at you, his eyes soft. “Yeah, it’s really cute.”

He sits back and pulls his lunch out of his backpack. “I have extra coffee if you want some. I didn’t know how you took it so I brought some non-dairy creamer and sugar.”

“Thank you, that would be nice.” You reply.

He pulls out two tin cups and pours coffee into each one and then offers your sugar and creamer from the front pocket of his backpack. You take one of each and add them to your cup.

You and Bucky sit and watch the turtle for a little while as you eat. Two others join it and Bucky rolls two more strawberries down the rock to them.

“So tell me,” Bucky says after a while. “Is it just wild animals you love or do you have any pets?”

“You know how last week we talked about pigeons for half an hour?” You say.

He nods enthusiastically.

“Don’t get me started talking about my cats.”

Bucky laughs. “Go on. I want to hear.”

You pull your phone out of your bag and open up your photos. You scoot a little closer to Bucks so his arm is behind you and you can both see the screen. “I adopt cats from rescues when no one else wants them.” You explain. “This is C-fer. He’s old and kinda mean. He’s missing a tooth which is good because he likes to pounce at your ankles and bite them.” You flick to another photo. “This one is Pepper. She’s missing an eye. She’s really sweet though. She’s my main lap cat. She pretty much rides me around the house when I’m home. On my shoulder, in my lap, draped around my neck.” You flick to the last photo. “This is Esper. He is really shy. Mostly he likes sitting next to me with a paw on me. Or he hides under cabinets. Especially when other people are there. He’s missing his front leg, see?”

“I can relate to Esper,” Bucky says.

“You like to hide under cabinets?”

He laughs. “When people are around, I do. I also like keeping a paw on the people I love.”

You laugh and look at him. “Well aren’t you a cute little kitty. Be careful or I’ll adopt you too.”

“I’m missing an arm too.” He says, matter-of-factly.

You turn to him startled. “Really? But you – your arms – I couldn’t even tell!”

“No the prosthetic is pretty state of the art. It’s kinda why I wear so much. People stare.” He says.

You frown. “I’m sorry. People are so rude.”

“It’s not that… It’s more people…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. We were talking about your cats which are much my interesting than I am.”

You spend an hour talking about your cats. His alarm goes off and he ignores it. Only reluctantly leaving when his boss calls to find out where he is.

Every week you meet up with Bucky at Turtle Pond. Every week he finds out more about you and you find out more about him. He admits to being an Avenger. That one shocked you. You don’t really pay that much attention to the Avengers but you feel like an idiot for not realizing. He eventually shows you his arm. State of the art was the biggest understatement you’d ever heard. It was a work of art. The way the metal glinted in the sun as the plates shifted when he moved. He was nervous to show you but after he does he starts showing up in short sleeved t-shirts or tank tops and shorts. Like he doesn’t even care that people start at him or recognize him anymore.

The little lunchtime meet-ups become more like lunch time dates. You each start bringing things for the other. You bake cookies one week, he brings tropical fruit the next. He starts brings a picnic rug and arriving before you, spreading it out on the stone. You start sitting closer and closer to each other until it becomes commonplace to just be using him as a leaning post his arm curled around your body.

After seven weeks of this, you and Bucky sit watching the ducks squabble over some corn. Your head is on Bucky’s shoulder and he tilts your face to his. “Hey, doll?” He says.

“Uh huh?” You reply.

“Do you think I could maybe kiss you?” He asks.

“I’d like that.” You reply.

He brings his lips to yours. They are soft and plump and fit perfectly against yours. His tongue teases over your top lip and you open your mouth giving him full access. He pushes his tongue in it dances with yours. He tastes like coffee and tropical fruit.

When he pulls back you feel light headed and you blink up at him. “That was nice.” You say.

He laughs. “It was.” He agrees. “I’d like to do more of it.”

“Me too.”

His hand goes to your jaw and he runs his thumb over your cheek. “Do you think I could take you out on a proper date, doll? Maybe dinner and a movie?”

“Yes, but do you think I can count these as proper dates too? I’ve liked them more than most dates I’ve been on.” You say.

“That sounds fair.” Bucky agrees.

“Hey Bucky, you know how some people have a rule about how many dates they go on before they sleep with another person?”

“Yeah.” He says, a smile spreading over his features.

“How many times have we done this now?” You ask.

He pauses and thinks. “Ten all up I think.”

“My numbers ten.” You say.

Bucky bursts out laughing his head thrown back. “Your place? Mine’s a little busy.”

You nod and you both get up, packing up your lunch and throwing the last of the corn and fruit to the ducks.

You take his hand in yours and lead him back through the park, by the people sunning themselves on the Great Lawn. Back into the cool and past the Delacorte Theater where they do the free Shakespeare. Up and down hills past swing sets and children’s playgrounds until your out on Central Park West. You walk up the road for a while and then cross down one of the numbered streets to get to Columbus. You stop at one of the general stores along the way and buy a packet of condoms. The shopkeeper rings you up and then tells you to both have a nice night before laughing at his own joke. You finally reach the building where your apartment sits above a busy dry cleaner and take him up the narrow staircase to your front door.

“It’s a bit shitty. Just warning you.” You say before opening the door. He follows you into your studio apartment. The cats all come out to greet you. Pepper rubbing her face on both yours and Bucky’s legs. Esper meows at you before disappearing under a cabinet and C-fer attacks your ankle.

“I’ve had much worse places than this.’ He says, looking around the room. It’s small and shabby, but you look after it. Your full sized bed sits against the wall with a plush, patchwork bedspread draped over it. You have a small pine table by the kitchen with two mismatched chairs and in the middle of the room is a squashy, striped couch, facing your TV. Around the edge of the room are various bookshelves and cabinets filled with books and knick-knacks you’ve accumulated over the years, along with a large cat tree. Your kitchen is in a cut out alcove at the front of the room and there’s a door on the back that leads to your bathroom.

He approaches you as you close and lock the door, dropping his bag by the wall. His arms wrap around you and he kisses you. It starts slow. Just a little bit hesitant. This is only your second kiss after all. It’s a big leap from 'second kiss' to the bedroom, but you know each other and you’re comfortable with him. So it quickly deepens.

You start tugging on his shirt, leading him back to your bed. As you slowly make your way to it you shed clothing. You pull his shirt off first. He reciprocates by removing yours. You each take care of your own shorts. Awkwardly wriggling out of them without breaking your kiss or dropping your own bag. He unclasps your bra after a brief struggle with it and you push each other's underwear down before you fall back onto the mattress and pull him down on top of you.

You spend a long time just like that on the bed. Rolling about just touching each other. Sometimes he’s on top of you. Sometimes you’re on top of him. Sometimes your just lying side by side facing each other. Your hands roam each other's bodies the whole time, touching every inch of skin they can reach and your lips never part.

It becomes torture and your hand slides down to his cock. You roll your hand over the head, slicking it with the precome that has been leaking out and smearing onto your skin for a while now. You use it as a lubricant, allowing your hand to slide up and down his shaft easily. He moans into your mouth and follows your lead. His hand slipping down between your legs. His fingers sliding between your folds, traveling first down to the entrance of your cunt and then back up and over your clit. Circling it in small quick strokes.

“Bucky.” You moan.

Bucky’s lips had moved to your jaw as soon as you opened your mouth to speak. “Mm-hmm…” He hums.

“I can’t take it anymore. You gotta fuck me.” You plead.

Bucky looks up at you, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling. “Wow. You got a mouth on you.” He says. “You got it, doll.”

He reaches for your bag and pulls the box of condoms out. You take it from him and pull one out. Tearing the pack open. You roll it down over his shaft and as soon as your hand moves away he is inside of you.

You clench around him and throw your head back with a loud moan. He runs his metal hand along your jaw, his thumb stroking your bottom lip. You let it into your mouth and suck on it. The metallic taste overwhelming your taste buds.

“Damn. You feel so good, doll.” Buck growls in your ear.

It’s like you’re in sensory overload. Your skin prickles and a tingle creeps from your cunt out creating pressure in your stomach. A deep need for release.

Bucky rolls you over suddenly so you’re on top. You put your hands on his chest and start to ride him. You move quickly like you’re its a race. His hands rest on your breast, squeezing them and pinching your nipples. Sweat beads on your skin.

“Slow down, dah'lin.” Bucky pants, looking up into your eyes.

You force yourself into a slower pace and he moves his hands to your hips and starts guiding them so you roll them and twist them. It’s a rhythmic movement. Like you’re belly dancing in place on his lap. His fingers move to your clit and as he starts to rub it, your orgasm breaks and takes hold of you.

You lean back, gripping his thick thigh muscles and you cry out. Bucky starts to thrust up into you as your frozen in the grip of your orgasm. He grunts suddenly, slamming up into you and spills. His cock pulsing as it empties.

You collapse down on top of him. Lying on him like a blanket. He awkwardly removes the condom and tosses it into the wastebasket by your bed.

He trails his hands up down your back as you both lie there, letting you breathing even out. “You just gonna stay there forever?” He asks.

“Mmm… I think so.” You reply.

“But what about the ducks?”

You laugh and kiss his jaw. “Fine. I’ll get up to go feed the ducks.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #smut #fluff #turtle pond

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lovemesomerafael · 4 years

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Others Like Me Chapter 2: Switzerland

Read Chapter 1 Read it on AO3

For a while, Bucky concentrates on flying the jet and Blondie – Eight, he reminds himself – just keeps quiet. Flying does come back to him; it’s not long before he feels pretty good about what he’s doing. Landing is going to be trickier, but he’ll worry about that later.

“Are there maps in here somewhere? Where are we?” He asks, once they level out at a recklessly low altitude hoping to stay under any radar that might be looking for them.

“I don’t know.”

“What? How can you not know?”

“They tell us only what we need to know. You, of all people, should understand that, Soldat.” Her emphasis on the last word shows Eight’s irritation with that question.

“Shit. You’re right. Sorry. But that’s a big damn problem. I wish I had my cell phone, but you guys took everything away from me.”

Eight reaches inside a pouch on her vest and retrieves the package the woman had handed her outside the bunker. “Here are your things. Are any of those a ‘cell phone’?” She says the words like they’re new to her.

“You don’t know what a cell phone is?” Bucky asks, surprised, as he takes the package.

She says simply, “No.”

Bucky’s immensely relieved when he sees that his cell phone is, in fact, among the items in the package, and when he turns it on, it works. This is going to make things much easier, because it’s not really a cell phone. Well, it is, but it does a whole lot more than cell phones that aren’t made by Tony Stark. Bucky pushes a button.

“Barnes, what the fuck?”

“Is that how we’re answering the phone now, Tony?” Bucky grins.

“It is today. Where are you? Rogers is having kittens over here. It’s not pretty.”

“I’ll bet. Sorry. It’s a long story, and part of it is, I don’t know where we are. I’m going to need your help. We’re in a jet, and I don’t know where we are, where to go, or how to get there.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right for you. Gimme a sec.” It’s not much more time than that before Tony’s voice comes back on the speaker. “Huh. Siberia again. What are you, a homing pigeon?”

“Fuck you. Where can I go? This thing’s not gonna make it far and we’re gonna need a ride from wherever we land.”

“We? You meet a cute Russian girl, Barnes?”

“Matter of fact, yeah,” Bucky grins at Eight. It’s the first time he’s thought about it, but she is actually quite a dish. The grin fades a little, though, because she looks back at him in absolute perplexity.

“I don’t know if I’m Russian,” she says.

“Wait,” Tony says, a new tone in his voice. “What are you telling me? You’ve been in Siberia and you’re bringing people back with you?”

“Just one.”

“Why am I not surprised you had to go all that way to find a girl who’ll spend time with you? Anyhoo, that changes things. Who is this girl?”

“She’s… She was one of the people who abducted me. But she’s also the one who got me out. I told you, it’s a long story. And, honestly, I don’t know most of it yet.”

“For fuck’s sake, Bucksticks! How do you get yourself into these situations?”

“Tony…”

“OK, look. I’m not compromising anything because you got Stockholm Syndrome for some snow bunny. I’ll get you to a safe house, but then you – and she – are gonna have to deal with Natasha.”

“Kinda figured that. Fine.”

“Jarvis will send you a flight plan. Can you input it into whatever you’re flying?”

“Uh… I…”

“Yes,” Eight says, leaning forward toward the instruments and beginning to fiddle with a bank of electronic stuff that makes Bucky’s head spin.

“Yeah, Tony, we can do that.”

“Fine. You’re going to Switzerland.”

“Gonna need air clearance.”

“Already on it.”

“Thanks.”

“Listen, not that I care or anything, but Rogers is a giant pain in the ass, and he’s gonna ask. Are you OK?”

“Fine. Just got the shit scared out of me is all.”

“Good. Enjoy your blind date in a stolen aircraft. I’ll make some arrangements in Lucerne and we’ll get you and your girlfriend to a safe house. What’s her name, anyway?”

“Her name is Eight,” Bucky answers, expecting discussion about it.

“Of course it is,” is all Tony says before ending the call.

Bucky hands the phone to Eight, who immediately pulls the back off of it. “Hey-“

“This device and this plane are not made to work together. I’m going to have to make them.” She frowns in concentration as she pulls a screwdriver from her vest and pops a panel out of the bank of instruments in front of them.

“You know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.”

“Because I’d hate for you to mess up something I need to fly this thing.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

Bucky’s gotta just accept that, because it’s not like he’ll know if she messes with the wrong thing. Not until it’s too late. “So now that we’re out of there, and we have a plan, it’s time to tell me what the hell just happened. Who are you?”

Continuing to work, Eight begins to talk. “I’ll tell you what I know. Herr Hellner told you who those people are. They’re trying to rebuild Hydra. You were one of Hydra’s greatest successes, so they wanted to get you back. I’ve been hearing about you all my life.”

“All your life? What do you mean?”

Eight sighs. “They wanted to build an army. Basically, soldiers who were nothing but empty killing machines. With you, they succeeded for a time, which is why they tried to do the same with the others.”

“The other Winter Soldiers? The ones they gave the serum to after me?”

“Yes. But they were never a success. They were feral. Uncontrollable.”

“I know. I met them. They had me fight with them to see what they could do. They kicked my ass.”

“And killed too many handlers. Eventually, they had to be destroyed.”

“But not by Hydra. Is that what they told you? Because it wasn’t them. There was a guy… Anyway, what’s that got to do with you?”

“Even you were hard to control. There was only one of you, which worked for missions that could be handled by one person but, like I said, they needed an army.” She takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “They decided that the problem was starting with adults. Adults are too fully formed. So they used us.”

Bucky does not want to know the answer to his next question. “Who is ‘us’?”

“Me. My brothers and sisters. We have no idea whether any of us are actually related, but we call ourselves that because we’re all the same. We were taken as children, given the same serum you were, built into a squad of troops that could function together. The point was to make each one of us entirely replaceable. That way, if one of us died, or went rogue, it wasn’t any loss. Not like you were.”

“How do you know about me?”

“They told us stories about you. Threatened to bring you out of cryostasis to punish us when we didn’t comply. There were tales of your achievements, and how you lived to serve Hydra, had given your life gladly over to them…”

“That’s a damn lie!” Bucky’s sickened.

“We know. We always knew. We could always tell when you were awake, out of cryofreeze, because we could hear you screaming. There’s only one thing that makes a person scream like that. And why would the have to keep emptying you if you were so dedicated to Hydra?”

“’Emptying’?”

“That machine that goes on your head. Empties you of all the memories they don’t want you to have? We don’t know what it’s called. But you know what I’m talking about.”

“You’ve… they’ve done that to you?”

“Yes. Many times. They do it if we let them see we have a memory, or sometimes just as punishment. But we’re careful. We try never to let them know we remember.”

“You remember your life? Before?”

“No,” Eight answers sadly. “Not even my name. I remember only the day they took us, my brother and I, from our school. They said they were doing some kind of scholastic testing, made us do physical tests, too. They chose the smartest ones who could do the physical tests, and killed the rest. Teachers. Everyone.”

“Fuck.”

“You keep saying that. What does ‘fuck’ mean?”

“You don’t know what fuck means?”

“No.” Again, that simplicity.

Bucky and Steve are going to have a good laugh about that. But he’s not going to laugh at it right now. “It’s just an all-purpose word. Means something bad. In this case, it means damn those bloody sons of bitches.”

Which he can see means nothing to her, either.

“Anyway, so you remember that day. How old were you?”

“I don’t know. I think maybe ten or so. But that’s all I remember. That one day, those few hours. Even that isn’t very clear. Just impressions. Everything else has been bunkers and missions.”

“Then how… How did you know you weren’t, you know… Hydra?”

“I told you, I remember being taken. Others do, too. And they hurt us. All the time. Call us livestock. They remind us in every possible way that we aren’t like them, we’re tools. Possessions. That’s one mistake, but they made a lot of mistakes with us. They wanted us to be a team, so we are all always together. That was a mistake, because we remind each other. And when one of us gets emptied, the others just tell that one who they are again.”

Bucky grins evilly.

“We used to look at you sometimes in your cryotube. And sometimes we’d watch you when you were awake. You were fascinating to us.”

“Great. The freak show.”

“No. You were our brother. We wanted to help you. We tried to, sometimes, when they were hurting you particularly badly, but there wasn’t much we could do. One of us would misbehave, or we’d break something and cause a fuss.” She looks up from her work. “You saw me once.”

He looks over at her, shocked. “I did?”

“They sent you on a mission. The target survived and you were badly hurt. We were just children, but when you returned, they made us watch what they did to you. So that we would know what happens if we fail. Just before they emptied you, you looked at me. It was just for a second, but in that second I could see that we’d been right. You were like us. There was another person inside, trying to escape. I told the others.”

Eight gives Bucky a warm look and lays a hand on his arm. “You must have felt very alone. But from the time we came, you never were.”

That one’s gonna take a long time with a counselor to unpack.

“I felt sorry for you that day. You didn’t have anyone. So I wanted to do something for you. There was a guard. They never tell us their names, we called this one Rumpelstiltskin because he was small and wrinkly. He really liked to use his stun baton, and he really seemed to hate you. He used it on you all the time. More than anyone.”

“I know who you’re talking about. I remember that guard.” It’s odd, the feeling Bucky gets from that shared memory. Before, what she’d been saying had all been kind of an abstract story. But with that, it starts to sink in that she’s telling the truth. That she really is like him. It feels… big.

“So I went into his quarters while he was sleeping, and I reprogrammed it. It still made light and noise, but there was no shock. I thought the best I could do was to spare you from a shock or two before he figured it out, but you… You pretended it still worked. We saw you.”

Bucky’s floored. “Holy shit, I remember that, too!”

“I was so happy you pretended. I’m glad you remember,” Eight says, beaming at him.

“I have so many questions. How were you spying on me? How did you get into a guard’s quarters?”

“I told you, Sergeant. They took the smart ones. There were many of us, and we were children. Angry, mistreated children. We found many ways to get around the bunker without being seen. We were trained to do things like that. We spied, we sabotaged things, we stole food when they’d forget to feed us. We couldn’t escape, but we could at least do those things. Like I said, they made many mistakes with us. They should’ve taken the dumb ones.”

Bucky likes the glint of malice in her eye as she says that.

“You don’t have to call me Sergeant. My name is Bucky.”

He is in no way prepared for the sour look on her face when her head pops up from where she’s now tearing out wiring and connecting it to his phone. She gapes at him. “Bucky?”

He doesn’t like her tone at all. “Yeah. What’s wrong with Bucky?”

“They threatened us with you! ‘Comply, or we will wake the Zimniy Soldat and watch while he tears you apart and eats your flesh.’ You were the boogeyman! I hate to think how many times I obeyed under that threat, and now you tell me that the boogeyman I feared so much is named Bucky?”

She’s truly bothered by that, which makes it even funnier to Bucky. He’s seized with uncontrollable laughter for a long time. He has to wipe tears from his eyes as he surrenders to helpless hysterics. This woman! She’s such a weird combination of opposing characteristics. She’s like a child in many ways. A lethal, treacherous child. Who, apparently, has a gift for electronics. A display lights up and he’s got headings to Lucerne.

“That’s aces!” He cries. “Now we’re cookin’ with gas. All right. Let’s see.” Bucky studies the readout on the screen for a while. “About three more hours. Just enough time for you to tell me what you’re doing here.”

Bucky’s treated to another of Eight’s perplexed looks. “Saving my brothers and sisters.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to be perplexed. “Huh?”

“Hydra, they’re afraid of you, and your friends. The ‘Adventures’, they call you. We’ve heard them say many times that you are capable of destroying the fragile beginning they’ve made.”

“I think you mean The Avengers. But ‘Adventures’ works, too. What’s any of this got to do with them?”

“When we learned that you were with The… Avengers, it was easy for us to suggest to Hydra that they should try to recapture you. Then they would find you for us, and send us to get you. We knew we’d have to capture you for them, of course, but then we would set you free and one of us would go with you to ask The Avengers to help us. So now here we are.”

“Why you?”

“I was the obvious choice. You escaped, and I’m the leader of the squad that was supposed to prevent that. They would have killed me. This way, my brothers and sisters can say that I went rogue, and perhaps only a few of them will be punished. Or killed.”

“Look, Eight, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have a vote in what The Avengers do. They might not help you.”

“But you will help me convince them.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because you’re our brother.”

Bucky chews on that for quite a while. This is… complicated. He believes Eight. He believes everything she’s telling him. But The Avengers won’t. Natasha won’t. She’ll be sure it’s a trap, to lure them to Hydra’s new headquarters to be captured. Well, that’s a fight for another day. What’s eating at him right now is the dawning sense that his experiences aren’t unique. There is someone else – several others – who have lived the same nightmare. People who might be able to understand what he is. Why no amount of mind control excuses any of it.

“Eight, have you… Did they make you… do things? Things like they made me do?”

“Yes.”

He waits for more, but that’s all she says. “Eight?”

“I really don’t want to talk about those things, Sergeant.”

“Bucky.”

“Sergeant,” she says with a scowl, and he’s laughing again.

“Have it your way.”

Bucky can’t really blame her for not wanting to walk down that particular memory lane with him. But there are a lot of things he needs to know.

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

Landing at the private airstrip in Lucerne is a relief for Bucky, but he’s watched Eight become more and more anxious the closer they’ve flown. By the time they’re fifteen minutes out, she’s practically vibrating out of her seat with nerves.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Bucky says with what he hopes sounds like kindness.

“There’s no mission plan.”

“You don’t need one. You’re with me.” Bucky’s faking that nonchalance. He knows exactly what she means. He wishes like hell he didn’t.

Her eyes are huge when she looks at him. “I haven’t studied the terrain, or the targets, or…”

“Look, Eight, quit thinkin’ about this like a mission. It’s more like a… business meeting.”

“What’s that?”

“OK, a briefing. You’ve been in a gazillion of those, right?”

“Gazillion?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and huffs out an irritated breath. “It’s a word no one’s used in fifty years. Forget it. Many. You’ve been in many briefings. We’re just going to a briefing – if I know those guys, several – and we’re gonna propose a mission. You can do that.”

“I can do that. But there are dangers I haven’t prepared for, and-“

“Relax. You’re with me.” Bucky gives her his best smile, and he’s gratified to see that it works. In fact, she looks a little dazzled, if he does say so himself.

She doesn’t stay dazzled very long. “Who is Natasha?”

“Natasha is, well… She’s…” He’s about to say she’s a lot of people, but he’s learning quickly that Eight is very literal. It’s cute, but it makes him have to watch how he phrases things. “She’s going to ask you a lot of questions about who you are. What you want. She’s very good at getting the truth out of people.”

“Is she going to hurt me? Because she doesn’t have to. I’ll tell her whatever she wants to know.”

“No hurting. Promise. But if I know her, the number and intensity of the questions might be unpleasant.”

Eight nods. Bucky recognizes that, too. She would’ve nodded even if he’d told her Natasha was going to torture the information out of her. She’s prepared to endure it, she just wants to know what she’s in for. Fuck. It’s like looking in a mirror. Bucky’s not particularly enjoying the experience of being shown just how fucked up he is.

It’s not Bucky’s best landing but, in his defense, he hasn’t flown a jet in a long time, and he’s never flown this particular model before. He tries to make excuses to Eight, but she looks at him with her now-customary confusion.

“I can do a lot better than that,” Bucky says. “It’s just, this jet is, um… old, and a little temperamental-“

“I don’t know how to land a plane. I have no opinion.”

Huh. He’d expected her to pitch him some shit. How refreshing. The Avengers could take a page from her book.

Tony calls when they land. “I see you’re on the ground in Lucerne. You have the directions to the safe house, and there should be a car waiting there for you with the keys in it. J sent you a picture of the car.”

“I got it.”

“All right. Burn rubber and get out of there. Your departure from Siberia hasn’t gone unnoticed. It won’t be hard to find that jet. Make sure you’re not followed to the safe house.”

Eight unhooks what’s left of Bucky’s cell phone from the instrument panel and they quickly leave the jet for the tiny car waiting for them. They’re not followed. It’s a relief to think that they are – probably – somewhere safe, where this new Hydra can’t find them. Bucky’s exhausted. It’s been a bitch of a day.

The safe house is small and generic, on a street of very similar houses. As instructed, they drive up to the back of the house under a carport that will shield the car from the eyes of anyone who hasn’t already found the house. Bucky’s intrigued by the fact that Eight can drive, and wonders tiredly what driving lessons from Hydra are like. He assumes they taught him to fly planes and helicopters, but he doesn’t remember it, and somehow that doesn’t seem quite the same.

The first clue Bucky gets that this isn’t all going to be quite as easy as he’d made it sound is when the caretaker of the little house makes the mistake of coming around the corner of the house. Before Bucky has time to utter even the first sound, Eight’s got the poor man spread-eagled on the driveway with her knee pressing into his back and a knife at his throat. This, too, is something to laugh at later. Not now.

“Eight, no… Stand down. We expected him. He’s the caretaker. He’s a friendly. Let him up.”

Eight graciously helps the man to his feet, albeit without saying a word of apology. She’s still eyeing him suspiciously. He hands the keys calmly to Bucky with a resigned sigh and goes back to his own house next door. Apparently, this isn’t his first rodeo. Bucky thanks him in perfect Shcwyzerdütsch he didn’t even know he knew and unlocks the door. “We greet people a little differently here in the West,” he says as he motions Eight into the house before him. “We’ll work on it.”

He really doesn’t think it’s necessary for her to pull out her sidearm and sweep each of the rooms in the house. Oh, well. Better safe than sorry.

There’s food cooking on the little stove. Nice touch, that. Bucky realizes how hungry he is. Since they don’t have any luggage other than their armored vests, there’s nothing to do but just shuck them off and sit down to eat. Eight asks Bucky to tell her about The Avengers, especially those they’re going to meet, which is a conversation that could last much longer than it takes them to eat dinner, but Bucky can see Eight’s as tired as he is. He cuts himself off and suggests they get some sleep.

She points. “There’s a bed in that room.”

“You take it,” Bucky says generously. “I’ll take the couch.”

Confusion again. “Why?”

Bucky sputters. “Uh… Did you want to sleep on the couch?”

“No.”

“Then, I guess I don’t understand the question.”

“Why aren’t you going to sleep on the bed with me? Are we going to keep watch?”

“Uh…”

She doesn’t rescue him. Just looks at him like he has really bad manners, and she deserves an explanation.

“We don’t… It’s not really… appropriate.”

“Why?”

“Look, ask Natasha when she gets here. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“But I’ll be cold. Won’t you?”

Really? “I’m sure there are blankets.”

Her confusion’s not gone.

“Look, Eight, why don’t you tell me what you’re used to? Maybe that’s the problem here. Where did you sleep in the bunker? Didn’t you have a bed?”

“No. A mat. A room with a mat.”

“And was it just you in the room with the mat?”

“All of us.”

“All of you.”

“Yes. There are twenty-two of us left.”

“Must be a big mat.”

“No.”

“So… what? You all just pile together like puppies?”

“Yes. It’s warmer than blankets. And the blankets there are… not good.”

“OK, well, the blankets here are nice. I’m sure of it. And you can have as many as we can find. Let’s go look and see how many there are.”

“Sergeant, did I do something wrong? You’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, I’m trying to make sure you’re comfortable. I’m sort of the host here, so it’s my responsibility. Look! A linen cupboard. And one, two… there are three blankets in here. Plenty.”

He shoves them into her arms.

“Don’t you want one?”

“Sure. Just one. I’ll be fine. All right? Good night.”

“Good night,” Eight says, frowning.

Bucky hastily crosses the small distance to the couch and makes a show of being busy arranging things to go to sleep. When he dares to look toward the door of the bedroom, Eight is no longer standing there. Suddenly, Bucky finds himself looking forward to Natasha’s arrival. This woman is more than he’s equipped to deal with.

#Bucky Barnes #Sebastian Stan #Steve Rogers #Chris Evans #Captain America #The Avengers #Tony Stark #Robert Downey Jr.

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askthecivilian · 5 years

Text

Splint Ends

(or Laptop’s official story submission this semester and thinly veiled Omega/Civilian fanfiction)

Christa hadn't realized she liked girls until she met Alex.

Perhaps “met” is too simple of a word.

Christa hadn’t realized she like girls until, on an early morning in Brooklyn, she bulldozed straight through an unsuspecting woman, mid-stride, after not looking where she was going and knocked them both flat on the slightly damp concrete.

She had apologized profusely, helping the other woman to her feet. A quick smile, then off she ran, ignoring the fluttering feeling in her chest. Couldn’t be late. She had barely gotten this secretary job as is.

The next day she promptly almost did it again, but the blonde woman quickly side-stepped and winked, humor lighting up her countenance. Christa just about died of embarrassment but ran on, the heat in her cheeks mixing with the pink flush the chill air whipped up. How the other woman was wearing shorts and a t-shirt in the autumn chill, she had no idea.

It took her a month of running past her on the same route to work up the courage to talk to her. “Alex,” she learned.

It took another month of casual talk and quick meet-ups on the street to agree to meet more often.

Three months later, Christa realized she was completely and totally in love.

The moment her boss realized, she was quickly and quietly fired from her job.

Christa hadn’t realized that her existence was a dirty thing that needed to be kept secret until she met Alex.

----

Love had always been a strange but familiar concept to Alex.

She loved to run. She loved to live. She loved fresh snow and warm drinks and good cuts of meat.

But she didn’t usually apply love to a person. She wasn’t even sure if she loved herself.

She did like herself. She was scruffy and that was that.

She was sure that her love could be given to anyone if she liked them enough too.

She also knew people thought that was wrong.

Alex had learned from a very young age, in a very small family, in a very small town, in the middle of New Mexico that being a woman, liking women, loving women, and being scruffy were all considered bad things.

Alex decided from a very young age that people were the worst.

Not Christa, though.

---

Christa was good in a way most people never were, Alex thought. She was the type of person that learned your favorite food just to take you to lunch. She’d run odd errands for people with only their gratitude as payment and give what money she made as a secretary at the local publishing house to those who had even less.

Alex thought she was a Woman, with a capital W. Tall and willowy, blue eyes and a shy grin and short black curls that she pinned back behind her ears.

Alex thought she was beautiful and everything she wasn’t.

Christa still had her parents and still had her choice. A choice that Alex’s parents had made for her.

That was fine, though. She would wait for Christa to make her choice.

So when Christa came home one day with a broken look and told her- “I lost my job,” Alex felt horribly furious and horribly guilty and horribly selfish.

---

Alex was bad in a way people never embraced, Christa thought.

She took glee in breaking norms and rules and expectations, but never in a harmful way.

She was the type of person who shoplifted bread and water bottles to take to a friend she’d made living on a street corner. She fed crumbs to pigeons and crows, pet every stray dog or cat she could find and constantly went barefoot in establishments, all with the same rascally grin.

She was unkempt and kept her hair in long golden tangles that Christa gently chided her over. She hated the constraints of “women’s clothing” and had shunned bras and dresses alike altogether. She embraced the new age with open arms and eagerly took to New York and the chaos it enveloped and the change it promised like a mutt to a muddy puddle.

She was so comfortable in being herself that Christa envied her. She was a wild force of nature.

And Christa didn’t know how she had gotten so lucky to have her.

---

There were worse places to live than New York.

Sure, the weather was usually awful and traffic was hellish and the concrete jungle was generally underwhelming to fault. But Christa knew the streets of Brooklyn like the back of her hand, and the rough calluses and contours of Alex’s hand as well as her well-trod paths of the streets.

Snow was heavy this year and their walk back to their apartment from a rare breakfast out was cold and slushy, both women bundled up, Christa significantly more so than Alex.

“I don’t get it,” Christa complained, blowing on her fingers. “You were born in New Mexico. How are you not cold?!”

Alex grinned up at her, breath misting around her face, and stole one of her mitten-ed hands, letting the warmth seep back into the cloth and chilled flesh as she held it.

“Warm blooded, I guess.”

Few people were out, most of them sensible and avoiding tramping about in the middle of December. The paused on a street corner, a newspaper stand close by, making Christa’s face pinch a bit in a bad memory before smoothing the bitterness away.

“Did you hear about the APA ruling?”

Another pair was out, two young men leaning around the newspaper stand, shuffling feet and making small talk to keep warm. Christa absentmindedly listened in as she scanned over the days headlines.

“The one about homos? Yeah. What a load of shit, huh? Faggots will be breeding like crazy now.” The taller one laughed, making a crude hand gesture through his neat leather gloves. “Not a mental illness, my ass.”

Christa’s heart stuttered. She stared at the blurred black and white paper in front of her, familiar pain bleeding up her throat. Alex’s hand froze in her grip as she went still as well, tense energy running down her arm.

“It ain’t natural,” the other agreed, nodding. The tips of his blonde hair curled over his coat collar. “They gonna ask us to fuck dogs next?”

Their dual laughter was raucous and chilling in their genuine amusement.

Alex moved just as the original speaker began his next story, of the “she-male” he’d “shown the light to” behind the bar on 5th. She pulled Christa onwards with quick, seething strides, away from ignorance and hatred that she couldn’t truly protect her from, no matter how hard she tried.

Christa had cried on the day the ruling came out, in their local gay bar, filled to the brim with exuberant cheer and good friends as they celebrated the small victory. Now, she felt like crying for an entirely different reason.

She felt small and afraid.

Christa didn’t hold Alex’s hand the rest of the way home.

---

“Have you ever thought about putting a little more effort into how you look? Lean your head forwards.”

Alex hummed noncommittally as she complied. “What, beyond this haircut? Nah, not really. How short is it going?”

Christa chewed her lip thoughtfully, winding a thick golden lock through her fingers before gently snipping the dry and harsh ends.

“I was thinking to about here,” she said to Alex’s reflection, marking a spot on her mostly-bare collarbone with a light tap. The sun highlighted the movement of her fingers, streaming through the minuscule glass window. Early morning birds could be heard, including the old demanding crow that lived on the roof next to theirs and had learned to tolerate them because of the snacks they plied his favor with. “Long enough to pull back but it shouldn’t get in the way too much. And maybe you should.”

Alex snorted and twitched at the feeling of the comb running through some unchecked tangles.

“I’m serious! I’m not talking about getting dolled up on a regular basis. That’s not you, and I’d never try to change that.” Christa brushed a few fallen clumps of hair off of the towel and let them fall to the floor to be swept up later. Alex really had a thick head of hair that practically overtook her small frame when allowed to roam free and wild as per her usual style.

“But-” she hesitated, lowering the scissors momentarily and resting her hand on Alex’s head. “I know that sometimes it's hard to be yourself.” She ran her fingers through her own thick black curls and met Alex’s eyes in the spotty reflection of the old mirror they shared in their apartment. “Especially when the world doesn’t want us to be ourselves. And sometimes… well it makes me feel better to change to person in the mirror when it feels like I can’t change anything else.”

Alex sighed and caught Christa’s hand as she raised the scissors again to return to her work. “I’m not going anywhere, Bambi.”

“I know! I just- I don’t want to lose you.”

“Hey,” Alex twisted in the chair, reaching up to gently embrace Christa’s face, frowning when she bit her lip and glanced away. Alex’s voice was low and almost feral as she said her piece.

“The world can go fuck themselves. I love you. And you know me,” she huffed wryly for a moment. “ I don’t say that lightly.”

Christa nodded silently, gently turning Alex’s head back to the front so she could tug some more snarls out of her hair, the roughness of the strokes betraying her tumultuous feelings on the conversation.

“Do you ever regret it?” she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper, the broad tones of her home city mingling with the stillness of outside. Brooklyn and New Mexico were an odd mix, but Alex thought they were fitting.

She and Christa were like that. The hustle and bustle and the vast spaces of nothingness, intertwined. City and wilderness. Christa, on one of the very few times she had let Alex get her drunk, had compared the two of them in that way.

“You’re like my wolf,” she had giggled, barely remembering to speak English through the cheap vodka Alex had stolen from a friend of hers. “My pretty blonde wolf, hunting the poor little deer. You caught me so… so fast!”

“Does that make you a literal Bambi Lesbian?” Alex had cackled in return. And Christa had laughed, tossing her head back, the soft pale skin of her neck and shoulders exposed and gleaming in the dim fluorescent lighting of their apartment.

It had not been the first, or the last time Alex had kissed her, but it perhaps was one of the more memorable.

“It’s 1973, Alex. We’re living in the modern day and-” here Christa’s voice cracked, a hairline fracture in her steady speech “-and I’m terrified. I’m afraid of what could happen- to me, to you, to anyone else we know. Jane got in a fight last week on the way home because someone jumped Ludwig on his way home. And you heard about the murders further down south.”

Her hands slowly gripped through the hair on Alex’s scalp, just shy of painful.

“Why is it wrong to be us?”

Alex hesitated, taking care to gently form her words before releasing them.

“Well, what do you believe?”

Christa’s fingers stilled.

“What?”

“What do you believe?” Alex asked again, trying to keep the steel out of her tone. She hated the world sometimes, hated that religion was so often used to justify hatred over differences. Hated that being different because of who and how you loved was something they saw people being killed over. “You’re Jewish. What does your faith give you about homosexuality?”

The silence was palpable, filtered only by the occasional rough caw out the window.

“We believe that we all deserve love,” Christa whispered. “And that we are not responsible for that in which we had no choice. Everyone deserves that much.”

Faith is difficult. You are not always what you believe. But, maybe sometimes you can believe in who you are.

Alex turned in her seat, ignoring the wet sheen in Christa’s eyes as she wrapped her arms around her, trying to put all the emotions that she didn't know how to word into that simple touch.

“I guess it’s easier for me,” Alex admitted into the shoulder of Christa’s shirt. “I only see the world as plainly as it appears.” She pulled back momentarily and gestured at the sunlight making dappled patterns on the faded tile. “I see the sun and the sky, the trees and the animals, and I see us in them. And if they exist, why can’t we? How could loving you-” she gripped her girlfriend tighter- “be wrong?”

Christa’s head was bowed, dark curls brushing Alex’s nose as her breathing hitched quietly with all the emotions she was swallowing.

“I… don’t understand your God,” Alex admitted rather awkwardly. She shook her head, mussing both her hair and her thoughts. “ But what about Jeremy? Or V? Jessica? We’ve gone to parties with them. I’ve had way too many drinks with Illystria and caught pigeons with Joseph and watched Mari punch and kiss her husband in the same minute. We’re just people, Christa. We do exist. We’ve found our people here.” She bit her lip, wistful smile creeping its way up her face. “Maybe today is not the best. But… there’s always tomorrow. Look how far we’ve come from Stonewall. From just this year!” Alex pulled Christa closer, gently pressing their foreheads together. “The world is what it is. I’m just grateful I’ve found a place to be myself in.”

Because it’s with you, was the phrase neither of them needed to say.

Christa’s laugh was watery.

“I haven’t ever told my parents yet.”

“When you do, I’ll be here right besides you.”

And just like that, the tension in the bathroom broke and washed away like the icy runoff that spilled from frozen rivers after spring had spread her warm wings over the mountain’s peak.

Christa’s hands were warm and solid on the small of her back.

Quick fingers momentarily tugged Alex’s shirt before sweeping her hair off to the side.

“We really do need to get you some non-shredded clothes, though.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“Schatz, there's holes in everything. Didn’t this shirt use to be pink?

Alex pouted theatrically, earning a slight giggle from Christa as she ruffled the blond bangs still falling unchecked into her face. “You’re picking on me today…”

Christa pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, smiling.

“What, me? Never.”

---

It took time. Change and acceptance are precious gems that are to be cherished and allowed to grow.

But then there was one Hanukkah in a small house in Brooklyn.

“Chag Urim Sameach, Mama und Papa. This is my girlfriend, Alex.”

People mentioned in this story! Because I couldn’t resist.

The Civilian: mine

The Omega: @teamfortressaswell

The Pilot (Jessica): @jessicapilot

The Contractor (V): @marveloustf2

The Helper (Illystria): @askhelper

The Pigeoneer (Joseph): @gwalleyvv

The Melee and the Mafia (Mari and her husband): @tangy-original-sunny-d

#civilian #omega #fanfic

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joeybelle · 5 years

Text

The Mistletoe Curse - Part 2

Clyde Logan x Reader

Rating: Mature (rating will go up as the story progresses)

Warning: Explicit Language, Accidental Nudity, Drinking, Minor Car Accidents, Minor Accidents, Drunken Confessions, Eventual Smut, First Person POV

Setting: Sometimes in the Logan Lucky universe

Other: Romance, Humour, Christmas tropes, Mistletoe Kiss, Drunken Confessions, Fluff

Wordcount: 3400

Summary: I’d never heard of mistletoe faeries before Earl mentioned them, and to be fair, I had a feeling he was kidding me. However, even I knew that if you accidentally find yourself under the mistletoe with someone - Clyde in this case - you must kiss. But a kiss on the cheek would be enough, right? Right?

Wrong.

Lovely art by @void.dust (on Instagram) and @formerly-anonhamster

It was peaceful for the next few days, so I had a feeling the offerings might have done the trick. Clyde had insisted that I take a couple of days off so I had time to heal properly before coming back to work. Christmas was getting closer and he said he would really need my help the week leading to it, so I didn’t argue. I had some things I needed to do for myself, so I was really thankful, if a little guilty, for the time off.

Also, there was the annual Christmas party. Clyde always kept the bar closed a few days for Christmas, letting all his employees spend time with their loved ones, but on Christmas Eve he would hold a party for friends and family. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a nice, cozy gathering. He would be providing the drinks and everyone else would bring something to eat, and they’d share. I’d never been invited to one before, so I was very excited. Everyone was talking about it and now that I was working at the Duck Tape I was considered family and automatically invited.

I had volunteered to help Clyde clean the place and set everything up before the party, since I had no other plans that day, but right now I was starting to doubt that it was a good idea. First of all, we’d be alone, and I was sure it would become awkward. Before the mistletoe incident I would have had absolutely no problem spending time alone with him. I really loved his company and he seemed a lot more relaxed when there were less people around. But our relationship had changed a little in the past month. I kept feeling he was avoiding me and I was afraid it would be awkward with just the two of us alone. I had been looking forward to that day close to a month now, but now I was starting to have second thoughts.

I wasn’t even sure he’d want me helping anymore, since whenever he found himself alone with me in the same room he’d bolt out the door before I’d have time to say anything—unless he was actually saving me from whatever disaster I’d caused that day. But it would also be a great opportunity to actually talk and clear everything up, because I really didn’t like this. It was one thing to not return my feelings, but avoiding me really hurt. No matter how he felt about me romantically I knew we could still be friends, and I wanted him to know that too. Or it was all in my head and he wasn’t avoiding me and I was worrying for nothing. Either way, some things needed to be cleared up before I’d get an ulcer.

But there were still a few days left until Christmas, and I still had the faerie problem to deal with before I could deal with the Clyde problem. Because surprise, surprise! It wasn’t over yet.

I was mistaken when I thought that it was over just because nothing happened while I was at home. It seemed the faeries were concentrated around the Duck Tape, because once I was back, it started again. It was a little better, I wasn’t as clumsy as a few days back, so I knew I was doing something right with the offerings. That, or I wasn't as tired anymore and I could actually focus. But I was still blaming the faeries just to be sure.

I figured I would place the same offerings around the bar too. So I did that, sneakily at first, prompting everyone to think I’d gone crazy over the break, because why else would I have been carrying bird feed and crystals in all of my pockets? Earl was laughing his ass off, and Clyde looked a bit confused, but sympathetic. Especially one day, when I was attacked by a bunch of pigeons on the porch as I was placing the bird seeds in the makeshift shrine.

“What are you doing?” asked Earl, when he finally managed to stop laughing long enough to speak.

“Offerings, for the faeries,” I said, thanking Clyde for the shot of whiskey he poured me. “The internet says they like these things: organic chocolate,” I said, counting on my fingers, “Champagne, but I don’t have that, organic berries, mushrooms, crystals… birdseed… What else?”

“Not these faeries.”

“Your faeries don’t exist, Earl. I googled.”

“Then who’s messing with you?” I didn’t have anything to say so I just kept my mouth shut. “I told you, you just have to give them what they want and they'll leave you alone,” he said with a wink, heading for the exit. “You’re smart, you’ve got to figure it out.”

“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” I asked Clyde, who was leaning over the counter.

“Uh…” he muttered, looking anywhere but at me. “No, I have no idea,” he said, and something in his tone made me think he was lying, which was strange, because I could swear he’d never lie to me. He turned around and he was gone before I could actually study his face, leaving me incredibly confused.

The rest of the week was pretty eventful, with the highlight being on the last day when I nearly flambéed Clyde. Luckily, he got out of it mostly alright, with only a tiny bit of his beard missing. He didn’t seem very upset about it, but I was already planning to leave the state in a haste, never to be seen again.

Fortunately for everyone involved it was the last day before the Christmas break. After we closed, the staff stayed for one more glass of something, the ones that wouldn’t come to the party the next day wished each other Happy Holidays, before heading out into the snow storm outside. We had decided to not exchange gifts this year, since it usually added extra pressure on everyone, but most of them still exchanged Christmas cards. I had a present for Clyde, wrapped nicely at home, but I didn’t have the courage to give it to him. Maybe I’d save it for his birthday.

After closing and locking the door, I collapsed onto a bar stool.

“I quit,” I said in my most pathetic voice.

“What? Why?” he asked, taken completely by surprise. He sat on the stool next to me. “Did anything happen?”

“I’m gonna set your bar on fire. Or worse,” I whined, resting my forehead on the counter. “I’m just a disaster, you’d be better off without me.”

“That’s now true and you know it,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I grumbled and he pulled me into an one armed hug. “I don’t wanna hear anything about it. I want you to come to the party tomorrow, have fun, then rest a few days and come back after the holidays.”

“What if the faeries will still be here when I come back?” I mumbled.

“Then we’ll have to do something about them.”

I lifted my head from the counter and turned around to look at him. He had this really determined frown on his face and I couldn’t help but smile. “And what do you propose we do about it? Because I am all out of ideas, and I’m not calling an exorcist.”

He also smiled for a moment, then got up the stool and became really flustered, nervously passing a hand through his hair. “Umm… we could try with Champagne?” he shrugged.

I burst into laughter. “You know just as little about faeries as I do.”

“Yeah. But it’s worth a try,” he said and went behind the bar, looking on the shelves for a bottle.

“Hey!” I said, pointing a finger at the bottle he took out. “Put that back. That’s worth more than my monthly salary.”

“So?” he asked, staring at the bottle with the most unimpressed look on his face. “It’s worth a try,” he said, placing it under his arm to open.

“You can hire another waitress with that money.”

“I don’t want another waitress.” My heart jumped, and it wasn’t from the sudden pop of the bottle opening. He got out a couple of glasses and placed them in front of us.

“Shall we taste it first?” he asked, pouring a little bit of champagne in the glasses.

“Sure, why not?” I said, taking my glass and looking at the bubbles. It was probably the most expensive sparkling wine I’d ever drank. “Gotta make sure it’s the best quality.”

He smiled and it was like this whole nightmare had vanished and we were once again just as close as we’d always been, no awkwardness between us, no tension. We toasted and savoured our drinks in comfortable silence and then we left a glass for the faeries near the Christmas tree. The rest of the bottle I placed in the fridge.

“I’m gonna make mimosas tomorrow,” I said, feeling really giddy. “We’re gonna be drunk before the party even starts.”

“That sounds good.”

“Do you still want me to come tomorrow to help out?”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Did you change your mind about that?” he asked, and although he had his back turned on me I sensed the disappointment in his voice.

“Nope. But I might burn your bar down, so be prepared with an extinguisher,” I said with a smile.

“Well, it needs renovations anyway,” he said, looking around. “But hopefully the Champagne will work.”

“I hope so,” I said, hopping off the barstool. “I’m sorry for setting you on fire today.”

“It’s alright,” he said, scratching his beard.

I took a few steps towards him, studying the damage I’d done. He didn’t shy away from my touch when I passed my fingers over the spot where hairs had been burned off.

“It needed a trim anyway,” he said in a soft voice, and I let my hand travel up, cupping his cheek. He looked me in the eyes, for the first time in a while and I felt weak under his gaze, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone.

There was a whirring sound followed by a loud thud that reverberated through the empty bar, making us both jump. I followed Clyde to the front door, waiting in the doorway as he went outside to check.

“It’s just the snow falling off the roof,” he said, coming back in with snowflakes caught in his hair. “It’s been snowing pretty heavily the past few hours, I think you better hurry home before the roads get blocked.

“Okay,” I said, a little weary. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Yeah, I just have to close first. You go ahead, and we’ll meet tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

I grabbed my stuff and ploughed through the snow to my car. It took a few minutes of digging to find it under the white blanket, but eventually I managed to get out of the parking lot.

The road had been cleaned, so I breathed a sigh of relief as I drove away, but even so there was still enough left on the streets to make it look like I was trapped in a white hell. It was a little scary, I thought, watching the big snowflakes that kept falling on my windshield, before being dragged to the side by the wipers.

As I drove, the moment I had with Clyde before the snow interrupted us—I felt like that was on the faeries as well—kept coming to mind and my heart jumped. It was one of the most intimate moments we had shared until then, because he didn’t really like physical contact that much and I knew to keep my distance. I was surprised that he didn’t brush my hand away, and instead leaned into my touch. It was so strange that he had seemed to enjoy it, after days and days of outright avoiding me. Maybe it was time to talk. It was definitely time to talk.

I actually knew the exact moment my car hit an icy strip on the road. I could feel how my hands on the steering wheel did absolutely nothing to maintain the direction, so I took my foot off the gas pedal and let it slide. I wasn’t going fast so the car glided for a while, then stopped in one of the snowdrifts gathered on the side of the road.

I let out a long breath, and got out of the car to check the damage. Everything seemed okay, the snow absorbing most of the shock, so I got back in and put the car in reverse to try and get it back on the road.

Unfortunately, it didn’t want to. It seemed like my car was pretty well embedded in the snow, the wheels were skidding and the car wasn’t moving and inch. I huffed, cursed myself, the snow and the motherfucking faeries and got out of the car. I fished a shovel out of the trunk and started shoveling. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I had to do something, I couldn’t just sit in my car and freeze to death.

Clyde found me fifteen minutes later, sitting in the snow, completely resigned to the thought that I would die frozen and miserable.

“What happened?” he asked, and I don’t think I’d ever seen him that scared. “Are you alright?” He took my hand and lifted me from the snow, looking at me like he was trying to convince himself I was still in one piece.

“I’m fine. Seriously, I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “I just lost control and got off the road, but I’m not hurt, and my car seems fine. But now I can’t get it out.”

After he made sure I was actually okay, he got behind the wheel and tried getting it out, but wasn’t any more successful than I was. The wheels kept spinning, but the car didn’t move.

“I’ll call Jimmy to bring the truck and pull it out,” he said, fishing the phone out of his pocket.

“No, Clyde, don’t! It’s late, let him sleep. I’ll have someone drag it out tomorrow, don’t worry. It’s on the side of the road anyway, nothing will happen.”

He looked at me, then at the car, and eventually he sighed. “Okay. Give me the keys and we’ll come and pick it up tomorrow.” The determined look on his face made it very clear that he didn't want me to argue, so I handed him my keys and got into his car.

We were mostly silent after that. I was defrosting, ashamed and a little scared that the faeries had followed me home and they seemed to be getting more aggressive. But I was also tired and stressed and a little distracted, so that could also be a reason.

I glanced at Clyde and remembered once again the moment we had that evening. He was looking ahead, his strong profile outlined in the dim light. He was so beautiful, and I was so in love with him that I had to shove my hands deep into my coat pockets so I could resist the urge to just tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. I wanted him to know how thankful I was for him always taking care of me and that he was the only reason I didn’t lose my mind the past week, but unfortunately I just couldn’t find my words.

We were getting pretty close to where I lived when the car made a strangled noise before coming to a halt and my heart almost did the same. I looked over to Clyde and he returned my panicked gaze.

“This ain’t good,” I said matter of factly, as Clyde turned the keys in the ignition and the car just refused to start.

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna work,” he said, but I could see he wasn’t that convinced either.

I was oddly at peace. If I was going to die in the snow, dying alongside Clyde would probably be the best way to go. But I was feeling really guilty. He was too young to die trapped inside a car, the night before Christmas. And it was my fault. The faeries or the curse, or just my bad luck, they were all affecting him by proxy, so if it weren’t for me he’d already be home, snug in bed, ready to sleep.

I looked at Clyde. He had moved on to talking to the car stage of desperation, whispering pleas while gently stroking the steering wheel. I felt a pang of jealousy the moment he called her ‘baby’, and I made an effort not to laugh at how stupid that was.

“My place is really close, like 20 minutes walk. We could leave it on the side of the road, and make the rest of the way on foot,” I offered, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be pleasant. But we couldn’t wait in the snow either. “I have a couch.” He looked at me, but I couldn’t read his expression. “We can figure out tomorrow morning how we’ll get our cars back.”

He looked outside for a moment and nodded. “I wanna try pushing it first,” he said, getting out of the car. “If that doesn’t work, we’ll walk. Can you come behind the wheel for a second?”

It was still snowing outside, but at least the wind had stopped. It was almost pleasant, with big, fluffy snowflakes falling out of the sky, and if I hadn’t been that tired I would have enjoyed walking home with Clyde, especially if at some point he’d decide to hold my hand. But I got into the car as Clyde started pushing. I turned the key in the ignition, but the car only whined pathetically.

“Come on you bitch,” I whispered as lovingly as I could between gritted teeth, while turning the key in the ignition once again. The engine started with a whirr and I jumped with excitement, smashing my fingers on the car’s ceiling. “Who knew you liked dirty talk,” I said, a huge grin on my face, just as Clyde was getting in the passenger seat.

“What?” he asked, eyes wide, cheeks flushed from the effort.

“Nothing, nothing,” I said quickly, hoping he didn’t think I was talking to him. “Do you wanna switch places?”

“No, it’s okay, you drive.”

Nothing else happened on the way home, so I pulled in my driveway, leaving the engine running, just in case it wouldn’t want to start again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night? I wouldn’t want you to get stuck in the snow on your way home.” I asked, dragging my feet through the snow. I smiled, and hoped the worry wouldn’t show through, “My couch is pretty comfortable,” I added quickly, so he didn’t misunderstand. It was just a friendly offer, after all. There was no ulterior motive.

He looked at me, then at the car, and seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind. “I don’t think I should…” he said, taking a few steps towards me. The headlights were illuminating him from behind, making him look even more massive. I felt safe in his shadow. “It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow,” he continued, rubbing his neck. “You need to rest.”

“Okay,” I said, not wanting to press him. “But please text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe. Otherwise I’ll come looking for you armed with a snow shovel.”

He laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you. Don’t worry about me.”

“And thank you. I owe you one for saving me once again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, heading to his car. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Clyde. See you tomorrow.”

I waited for him to get into his car, but he seemed to change his mind and in two huge steps he covered the distance between us and I found myself engulfed in his warm embrace. I was a bit surprised, but welcomed it wholeheartedly, hugging him back. “Goodnight,” he whispered. “Stay safe.”

He hurried back to his car and I waved him goodbye, still frozen in place. Once he’d pulled out of my driveway, I skipped to my house, giggling like an idiot. Two moments of intimacy in one day? And none of us was drunk? That was new. Suddenly I had forgotten all about the faeries, as I got rid of all my clothes and got into the shower.

The message saying that he’d arrived home safely came about ten minutes later. I texted him back goodnight and crawled into bed, falling asleep almost instantly, phone still clutched in my hand.

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kusunogatari · 5 years

Text

[ @kyuuzuchiha ] 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩 𝕩

“Yo, teme! Teme!”

Lurching forward as an arm wraps around his shoulders, Sasuke just sighs. “What, dobe?”

Grinning like a fox, Naruto flashes two small pieces of paper in his other hand. “Lookie what I got!”

“...tickets? For what?”

“Some fancy shmancy new restaurant!”

Dark brows furrow, looking to Naruto skeptically. “Tickets for a restaurant?”

“Well, it’s not just a restaurant...apparently they do, like...shows and stuff!”

Shoving his friend aside to unburden his pace, Sasuke gives another glance. “...why did you get tickets to something like that? Doesn’t seem your style.”

“I won ‘em!”

“...how?”

“Oh, just a little bet I made,” the blond replies evasively, tucking the tickets back in his jacket.

“...meaning?”

“Nothin’!”

“Naruto, you weren’t swindling humans again, were you?”

“No, no! It wasn’t anything like that!” Hands wave in defense. “They weren’t human!”

“So, less likely to get you arrested, and more likely to get your ass beat.”

Lips pout. “Hey, I won that game fair and square.”

“All right, fine. Still doesn’t explain why you’d put your ass on the line for something that...random.”

“Welllll, at first I was gonna sell ‘em! See, this place is Nightwalker…! So they’re super expensive! Apparently it’s, like...really hard to even get tickets. But then I thought...y’know who I know who appreciates nice things?”

Sasuke deadpans.

“My good pal Sasuke!”

“Why would I care about some high-end eatery?”

“Aw, c’mon! It’ll be fun, ‘ttebayo - we can get all dressed up, rub some elbows…!”

The Uchiha’s nose wrinkles. “What makes you think something like that would be fun…?” He has distant family in high places, which means elbow-rubbing is something he does at times. And it’s never fun. Just boring, stressful, and time-consuming.

Naruto’s lips purse again. “Well just cuz you get to do it all the time doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it!”

“Then go by yourself.”

“But I’ve got two tickets…!”

“So? Sell one, if you want the money.”

“But Sasukeee…!” Naruto gives his best combo of puppy eyes and whiny tone.

Head craning back, Sasuke sighs. “All right, fine.”

“YAY!”

“When is this supposed to happen?”

“Friday! Uh…” Whipping the tickets back out, Naruto studies them. “At...two am!”

“A little late, isn’t it?”

“Aw, c’mon - sunrise isn’t until after five this time of year! It’ll be fine! Plenty of time for you to skulk off to bed, huh?”

“...address?”

Handing over the ticket, Naruto lets his friend type it down into his phone. “We should probably get there a little early, huh? Find good seats?”

“Naruto, the seats are assigned. Look, it says right here.”

“Oh…” Smiling sheepishly, he tucks them away one last time. “Guess I’ll see ya there, teme!”

“Guess so.” Watching the werefox take off, Sasuke sighs lightly to himself. Surely one morning won’t be a huge loss...and it’ll make the blond happy. Maybe he’ll get off his back for a while. Hands stuffing into his pockets, he starts to mosey for home.

His little apartment is quiet and dark when he arrives, sunrise just tinting the horizon. Flicking on a light, he indulges in a snack before calling it a day, hiding down under blankets in his blacked-out room until nightfall.

The rest of his week passes fairly quickly. To his own annoyance, part of him actually starts to feel...curious about this little outing. Not excited, but...he’s intrigued. While he’s been to a few Nightwalker-only places, they’re hard to maintain given how populous humans are.

Even harder to keep safe.

Digging through his closet Thursday evening, he picks out something nice, but...not too nice. Slacks, black shoes, matching socks, and a dress shirt. A little perusing of the place online gives the impression his outfit should be fine.

Gods know what Naruto’s going to show up wearing…

He doesn’t don it until he’s ready to go, deciding to walk. It’s not too far, and he can always use a little speed to get there quickly if he has to. Otherwise, he strolls casually, taking in the city by night, as per usual. To his honest surprise, a small crowd is gathered outside when he arrives.

A faint feeling of unease stirs in his gut.

“Sasuke! Oi, Sasuke!”

A bit surprised to see the blond there before him, Sasuke closes the distance. Somehow, Naruto’s actually dressed about as he is...except that his shirt is a bright, obnoxious orange compared to Sasuke’s deep purple. “You weren’t kidding about it being hard to get in.”

“Told ya! C’mon, I’ve got the tickets!”

“Any idea what the show actually is…?” Sasuke then asks, glancing around and taking in the building.

“Apparently it changes every so often so it doesn’t get boring. Guess we’ll see when we get up there!”

The line moves rather slowly, tickets checked at the door alongside identification to ensure no humans manage to find their way in. Eventually the pair make it to the front, presenting both.

“All right, so you two are on the main floor, left-hand side,” a woman tells them, the stub of the tickets removed. “Next show starts in ten, so you’d better get seated.”

“Thanks!” Naruto calls as Sasuke steers him in. “So I guess they do the show more than once?”

“Makes sense - otherwise people would miss it, given how many hours they’re open.” Also must be why there was a time on the tickets.

The tables are numbered, most seating groups of two or four. Their own is one of the former, and Sasuke finds himself glad they won’t be joined by any strangers. In the general murmur before the next showing begins, a band plays slow, soft jazz music.

“Cripes, look at these prices!” Naruto whispers harshly, followed by a grunt as Sasuke elbows him. “What?!”

“You’re being rude,” Sasuke hisses back.

“But -!”

“What did you expect, dobe?”

“I dunno! Guess I’ll just...put it on my card…”

Scowling, Sasuke picks up his own menu, and...wow, Naruto isn’t joking. Maybe he’ll just get an appetizer and call it good…

“Sasuke?”

Looking up, the vampire startles at a familiar face. “Wha-? Aniki? What are you doing here?”

Itachi stands beside their table, looking just as surprised to see them. “Madara-sama is attending tonight. How did you…?”

“I won some tickets!” Naruto chirps, earning a look that makes him shrink.

“He swears up and down it wasn’t anything illegal,” Sasuke cuts in. As an enforcer, Itachi’s got every right to look into it and arrest the blond...if his dealings are shadier than he claims.

“...well, I’ve got more important matters to tend to, anyway,” Itachi assures them, giving Naruto a pointed look, a hint of a smile showing through.

“So the old bastard’s really here, huh?”

“I’d be careful how loud you say that,” Itachi cautions flatly.

“I’m not scared of him.”

“You really should be. He’s a senator, Sasuke -”

“And he’s got way bigger things to worry about than me calling him names,” the younger brother cuts in. “You better get back to your guard duty, lapdog.”

That earns a flat scowl from Itachi, but Sasuke’s right - the music is fading, and the show’s likely about to start. “...maybe I’ll see you again before we leave.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Naruto watches him go, then turns to Sasuke. “That was...awkward.”

“Aniki takes his job too seriously, that’s all. As if someone like Madara gives a shit about what I say.” Still, the fact that the senator is here brings back that worried feeling in Sasuke’s gut. It could be an invitation for trouble…

His musings are interrupted, however, as spotlights illuminate the stage at the end of the building. Their table is fairly close, and Sasuke watches as slower, more somber music kicks up from the band. The red fabric begins to rise, and finally reveals the subject of the show.

Sitting on her knees atop the stage floor is a woman. Clad in a silvery gown, waves of snow white tumble down her back, which is mostly exposed in the backless dress. Head bowed, she seems to wait for a certain moment in the music. Then a mic grasped in a hand lifts to her lips...and she starts to sing.

The tune is melancholy, crooning about loneliness and solitude. Staring almost as if dazed, Sasuke listens as the lyrics tell a tale of someone both eager to be loved, and yet shying from the risk of heartbreak. Slowly she lifts to her feet, almost as though floating, a mic stand held as she continues on. This close (and with eyes this strong), Sasuke can see her own are a rain cloud grey, framed by lashes as white as her hair. Curiosity burns as to what kind of Nightwalker she is.

And then she tells him.

Her gown pools at the floor, hiding her legs. But as she abandons her hold on the microphone, moving to shield her face from her fears, her arms shift in a smooth motion to white feathers smudged with sooty black.

Sasuke can’t help a jump. So...a harpy. Snowy owl, maybe…? He’s not exactly an expert when it comes to birds. While there’s plenty of common-breed harpies in the cities - crows, pigeons, and the like - something like an owl seems...out of place. And even then, they tend to dislike how crowded the cities are. No room to fly. Too many wires over the streets. Spell broken for a moment, he glances over to see Naruto staring, jaw agape.

And he’s not the only one.

The whole hall is enraptured, staring at the avian as she sings her song. Wings slowly shift down to peer out, silvers tinged with both curious longing, and yet a fearful hesitation. They roam over the audience from one side to another.

And Sasuke swears they stop when they meet his.

Something seems to pull at his spine - like an urge to get to his feet he barely manages to suppress. And as soon as she moves her eyes, the feeling seems to pass.

What the hell was that?!

After a few more bars, her voice holds out a long, last note before fading out with the music. There’s a stunned silence, and then the audience breaks out into applause as the lights fade back in. Limbs arms once more, she smiles bashfully, head ducking and face flushing a pretty pink. A hand then gestures in praise to the band.

Once things quiet a bit, she looks up and addresses her crowd. “Thank you...it’s an honor to be invited here to perform. And an even greater honor to do so in front of one of Japan’s most prolific senators!”

Up she gestures, and Sasuke follows her hand to the second floor balcony above and behind them. There he sits: Uchiha Madara, giving a small, acquiescing wave. Beside him, both Itachi and Shisui eye the crowds warily. Even more Uchiha, Sasuke’s sure, are positioned around the room to help guard against any threats. Not that Madara needs them, but...what’s the use in his enforcers if they don’t double as a kind of secret service?

Still smiling, the harpy then introduces her next song, the band striking up into something a bit lighter in mood.

Wait staff then begin fanning out to take orders, and Naruto turns to his friend. “Holy crap, that was awesome!”

“She’s good.”

“Good? Good?! Dude, it was like...like...mesmerizing! I couldn’t look away!”

“You and everyone else,” Sasuke assures him, leaning back with folded arms.

“She’s so pretty...think she’ll sign autographs after? Man, if I could get a picture -”

“I think she’s a little out of your league.”

“What?!”

Sasuke snorts, grinning as he teases his friend. “She’s a professional singer, and you run back alley deals and smuggle stuff. Not sure she’d find your employment charming, Naruto.”

“And what about you?!”

“What about me?”

“Y’think she’d be all goo-goo eyed over an enforcer dropout who lives in a teeny tiny apartment and works odd jobs?”

“I never said I wanted her to like me. You’re the one all smitten, fox boy.”

“Whaaat? You mean you don’t think she’s pretty?”

“She’s...fine,” Sasuke replies evasively.

“You’re insane!”

“And you’re taking this little daydream a little too far.”

They’re cut off as their orders are taken, and both wordlessly go back to watching the show. She’s singing a jazzy little number, swaying with the tempo and smiling coyly.

Sasuke’s eyes squint. She’s clearly harpy, but...looking around the room, he finds any eyes on her totally glued. It’s almost like she’s -

With a loud report, the front doors blast apart, debris and smoke billowing into the dining hall. Screams quickly break out, and Sasuke reflexively spins to face the threat. All around him, panicked Nightwalkers make for the stage: the direct path away from the explosion. Atop it, the harpy calls for them to come this way, to make for the back door.

A glance up shows Madara being directed the same way, enforcers dropping to ground level to stand between him and whatever’s happened at the entrance.

Through the smoke step a group of people. Many are clad with modern armor, riot shields at the front and bearing weapons no doubt loaded with silver bullets. But at their fore is a woman: black hair cut in a sharp bob to her chin, violet eyes seeming to glow as they’re illuminated from behind. Armored vehicle headlamps burn into the now-gaping entry. All she seems to hold in terms of weapons are clawed gloves.

Sasuke sees them drip.

Poison.

...is she -?

As one, the group moves. Bullets start streaking through the hall, blasting into the woodwork and shattering stone. Cries of pain join those of panic as the enforcers all take cover.

Ducking behind a half-wall, Sasuke’s joined by Naruto. “What the fuck?!” the blond shrieks.

“Hunters!” Sasuke calls back over the sounds of gunfire and impacts. “They must be here for Madara - they’d never be so open otherwise!”

“Sasuke!”

Itachi’s voice cuts to them, and they lock eyes.

“Take the harpy out through the back!”

“But -?”

“Just do it!”

Looking to Naruto, Sasuke sees him grin, teeth already sharp. “Not quite the show I expected,” the blond offers, “but I guess this’ll do!” With a blur of orange and black he shifts, streaking forward with the enforcers to begin combatting the Hunters.

Swearing under his breath, Sasuke looks up. Half-shifted herself, the harpy takes to half-carrying, half-dragging wounded Nightwalkers back behind the stage with her taloned feet. Blood coats her dress, and judging by her limp, she’s been hit.

Sasuke knows well how silver stings. That she’s still walking at all is impressive.

Aniki, you’re gonna owe me big time for this, Sasuke growls in his mind, flickering over to her as she makes one last pass behind the wings of the stage. “Hey!”

Screeching, she makes to strike at him with her claws, but he swiftly pins her.

“I’m not the enemy! I’m here to get you out!”

“No! There’s still people in there!”

“And you’re wounded! The enforcers are taking care of the hunters - you need to get out of here and get some medical attention!”

“No!” Defiantly, she kicks a foot at his chest, knocking him aside long enough to slip back out.

“Damn it!” Sasuke shouts, taking off after her.

She’s made her way to the second floor, landing beside a couple pinned down. With feathered limbs she guides them to a rear staircase that leads down behind the stage. Making the leap amidst the bullets, Sasuke takes her shoulder. “I am not leaving you in here!”

She makes to snap at him, but they fly apart as more rounds cut through the air. Coming up the stairs at the front, hunters begin closing the distance.

“Is there an exit up here?” Sasuke calls.

“There’s another flight at the back that goes up to the roof!”

“Then let’s get going!”

Sprinting, they cut into the stairwell and start ascending. Finding the door locked, Sasuke simply kicks it from its hinges, flying out across the roof. Around them, buildings tower several stories over them. Out in the open air, they hear the whirling blades of a helicopter, a spotlight snapping to the movement of the door.

Well, shit.

“Run to the edge!”

“What?!”

“Run to the edge, and jump - just trust me!”

Looking to her like she’s lost her mind, Sasuke ducks as a bullet slams into the top frame of the door from behind them.

No time to argue.

Using vampiric speed, he bolts across the rooftop, leaping out toward an alleyway between the buildings. Landing a three storey fall is nothing for him, but -

The helicopter fires a volley of bullets, and just as he crests the edge, he feels one tear straight through his left side. Arms and legs still pumping as he screams, he feels something grip his biceps. Talons lock around his limbs, and rather than fall, he glides upward as the harpy carries him out between two taller buildings that frame the restaurant.

With the backdrop of human structures, the helicopter doesn’t dare fire again, and they slip into the alley unscathed.

For several blocks she glides, managing to find a one-storey roof nearby. Dropping him to his feet, she doesn’t land so smoothly, crumpling and rolling as she shifts back to a human guise.

Gasping for breath as the silver eats at his flesh, Sasuke collapses to his hands and knees. It’s mostly just a graze - he’s sure no vitals were hit, but he’s bleeding like a stuck pig. Add in the intense pain of the metal, and he trembles with the struggle to keep from slipping into a frenzied state.

Several paces away, groaning in pain, the harpy drags herself up. Turning to him, her eyes widen. “Hey -!” Limping back, she kneels beside him only to fall to her backside as Sasuke bats her away.

“D-don’t!”

“But -?”

“I...I’m not s-stable…”

“You’re wounded!”

“I-I might -”

Eyes flickering over him, her jaw then sets. Bloodied hands pull locks from one side of her neck. “You’re a vampire, aren’t you? Blood helps you heal, right?”

“I can’t, I - I might infect you. I can’t...trust myself not to frenzy.”

“You can’t infect me.”

“...but -?”

“Just trust me!”

Shaking, Sasuke’s eyes drift from her face to her neck. His mouth burns in instinct. If he’s going to survive a wound like this...he does need help…

Uncurling himself, he heavily grips her upper arms. For a moment, dagger teeth hover over her skin before plunging in.

He feels her stiffen for a moment, but then force herself to relax.

A minute passes as he takes long draws. Already, the fresh blood eases the sting...but he knows it’ll take more than that to tend to a silver wound. But before he can go too far, Sasuke forces himself back onto his haunches, chin stained red.

As soon as he moves, one of her hands lifts to hold at the wounds. “...do you have a lighter?”

“What -?”

“A lighter. If we’re going to help that silver wound close, we have to get rid of the flesh that’s been touched. Otherwise it will stay open.”

His brows draw...but he shakes his head. “No, I...I don’t smoke -”

She heaves a curt breath through her nose. “...well, at least the bleeding’s stopped. Here -” With a tug, she rips a wide section from the hem of her dress. Part she spares to her leg, where Sasuke sees not a bullet wound, but peppered punctures from shrapnel. The rest she binds around his middle, ignoring his protests. “We still need to clean them, but...at least this will keep anything else out for now.”

“...you a nurse or something?”

“I wanted to be at one point. Never panned out. Can you walk?”

“...can you?”

“If I have to.”

After a pause, Sasuke then thinks to pull out his phone.

“...who are you calling?”

“My mother.”

A white brow perks.

“She’ll send someone from my coven. Get us cleaned up. Hopefully she’s heard if things back there are over yet…”

Looking him over more closely, she observes, “...you’re an Uchiha too, aren’t you? Are you related -?”

“Distantly. My brother is Madara’s top enforcer.”

“...and you?”

“...I’m not.”

As though sensing the sensitive topic, she doesn’t push it as Sasuke finally connects. “Kāchan? Can you -? Yeah, I’m fine. I was. Is anyone -? ...okay. We’re -” A glance around. “...probably three blocks south? On a roof - I think it’s a conbini. Yeah, but - ...no, I’m not dying. Not anymore, anyway. Is aniki -? Okay, good. Yeah, we’ll be fine. Can’t really leave, we’re covered in blood. Five minutes, got it.” A pause, then, “...I love you, too. See you soon.” Hanging up and leaving a bloody thumbprint on his screen, Sasuke looks up. “The hunters were pushed back...no idea how many were killed, yet. My cousin’s going to come find us.”

“...do they...know if it was bad…?”

Sasuke eyes her for a moment. “...not sure. But you got quite a few people out, seems like.”

Her own gaze averts. “...I had a bad feeling. As soon as they told me the senator would be there…”

“Yeah, me too. But it could have been worse.”

“It never should have happened at all,” she cuts in, hugging her knees with a bitter expression.

“...I know.”

Silence falls, and then she glances to him. “...what’s your name?”

“Sasuke. You?”

“Suigin Ryū.”

“...I’d say nice to meet you, but the circumstances are a little…” A pause. “...fucky.”

To his surprise, she snorts softly. “...to put it lightly.”

Another question burns at him, and he decides he might as well ask. “...you’re not just a harpy...are you?”

Greys glance to him warily. “...no. I’m not.”

That explains her lack of worry over being infected with vampirism. If she already has humanoid Nightwalker blood in her, she can’t become anything else. “...never met a hybrid before. What...else are you?”

“Succubus. From my father’s side. Not that I know him, but...well, I knew my mother was a harpy like me.”

“...was?”

“...was.”

An awkward silence falls. “...guess that’s why Naruto was so gaga over you,” Sasuke then offers, trying to lighten the mood.

“Naruto…?”

“Friend of mine. The werefox that was sitting with me.”

“Oh…” A hint of a smile lifts her lips. “It helps with shows. At least...on anyone who’s attracted. Otherwise I have to rely on actual merit.”

“Sounded pretty good to me.”

“Thanks…”

Well, now he knows why he felt that strange pull.

Another silence, but this one more...relaxed. “...thank you…”

“For?”

“Saving my life.”

“Yeah, well...guess I can say the same. Call us even. It’s my brother who’s going to owe me, pulling me into this mess. And Naruto for getting the tickets.”

“For what it’s worth...I’m glad you were there.”

“...least I made it out alive.”

“Oi!”

Both heads turn to see another Uchiha climbing up a ladder along the side of the building. “About time you got here, Shisui,” Sasuke chides.

“Pretty sure none of our evenings went as planned, Sasuke,” the enforcer rebukes. “C’mon, I’ll get you back so you can get cleaned up.” Helping them both down, Shisui introduces himself. “Sorry about all the ruckus, miss.”

“It’s not me you should apologize to,” is her soft reply, wincing as he guides her into a seat.

Thankfully it’s not far to one of Madara’s many safehouses. Already the wounded enforcers are gathered, as well as the dead. A few civis are taken in to be seen to, and Madara himself speaks sternly to his captain. Itachi’s expression is strained.

There’s gonna be hell to pay for this.

Once inside, the pair are made to be separated - Sasuke’s wounds are far more severe. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah…” Letting Shisui guide her to another room to be patched up, Ryū glances up as he questions her about the bite on her throat.

Her answer is cut off as Sasuke’s led to different room, dressed down to have his injury purged of the silver influence. Spare blood to help him recover further is quickly brought in. Muscles tense and nerves scream as the afflicted flesh is removed, eagerly gulping down the red viscous liquid. Almost immediately, the wound begins to close, no longer impacted by silver.

“How’s the harpy?”

“Fine, sir. Just some shrapnel in her left calf. No silver.”

Given leave to shower, he does so and redresses in spare clothes. By the time he emerges, she’s already done, hair still wet from her own cleansing. “...you okay?”

“I’ve been better,” she admits, clinging to a large coat someone’s thrown over her shoulders, a basic gown over her frame to her knees. “But...I’ll be all right.” Peeking out from under her hem is white gauze encasing her calf. “...I’m sorry you were shot. It was my fault -”

“The only reason I got off that roof with just one hole rather than looking like Swiss cheese is because you carried me out. Don’t apologize.”

“But -?”

“It’s fine. I’m already on the mend.” As proof, he lifts his shirt, showing the knotty scar.

Her brow furrows at the sight of it, but she doesn’t comment.

“Sasuke.”

Turning, Sasuke brightens at the sight of his brother. “Aniki…”

“You were shot?”

“I’m fine. Already healed over. You?”

“Somehow avoided it...I heard what happened.” He turns to Ryū. “...thank you. You saved my brother’s life.”

“I also helped put it in danger.”

“Well...your actions helped get most of the civilians out. We lost far fewer than if you hadn’t taken the initiative. Thank you.”

She just ducks her head.

“Now...we should get you home. I still have much to attend to...there hasn’t been this much open conflict in quite some time, and the implications are still growing. This is going to be a nightmare to cover up...”

“I can take her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Sasuke assures his brother. “You just keep your nose to the grindstone. We’ll be fine.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

Nodding, Sasuke takes her back through the building...only to come up short as Madara himself steps in their path.

The senator glances to him coolly, but his focus quickly shifts to the harpy. “My apologies, miss. It would seem you were caught in our little drama.”

Stiff with nerves, Ryū manages to stutter, “I-I…”

“I assure you, you and the guests will be compensated. This attack won’t stand…” A hand reaches, taking a lock of her hair even as she flinches back. “...we will speak again. Another time, when we are not so...otherwise indisposed.”

“Y...yes, sir.”

Lingering a moment longer, Madara then takes his leave, asking for Itachi as he walks past them.

Ryū then remembers to breathe.

“...yeah, he’s a little intimidating,” Sasuke mutters.

She doesn’t answer.

Taking one of the Uchiha’s many fleet cars, he drives back into the city, getting quiet, short directions from his companion. A high rise apartment building takes them into its underground garage, and he offers to accompany her to her door. Outside it, they pause.

“...thank you again,” Ryū murmurs, fiddling her keys.

“Back at you.”

For a moment she looks ready to protest, but then sighs in defeated acceptance. “I...guess I’ll say goodnight. Take care of yourself, Uchiha-san.”

Snorting at her sudden formality, Sasuke doesn’t rebuke it. Clearly she’s still shaken up, and a tragedy hasn’t exactly made them best friends. “...you too.”

Letting her eyes lift, there’s a moment’s hesitation before she steps up, planting a kiss on his cheek.

The skin seems to tingle pleasantly, and he can’t help a small jump of surprise.

“...goodbye.” Opening her door, she steps in and gives a polite nod before it shuts.

For a long moment he lingers outside it, a few fingers reaching to itch at the sensation on his cheek, which starts to fade.

Something tells him he’ll be seeing her again.

.oOo.

Woo, day two! This time featuring my Nightwalkers verse, and the lovely @kyuuzuchiha‘s boyos, as well as a few of my own from @hyuuchiha in addition to Ryū :3 And Ayame’s technically in there if you squint, heh heh. Technically we don’t have a ship in this verse yet, so...I made it more subtle. I don’t write action or violence too often, so...hopefully that part wasn’t a total flop - I tried ^^; Nightwalkers is of course my original monster verse with lots of politics and drama and stuff! I LOVE getting to write in it cuz...I’m a nerd when it comes to my worldbuilding =w= So this was actually rather self indulgent, eh heh (kinda like the whole event is so I can write all the lovely ships with the lovely people who humor me, ahaha~) ANYWAY, Boo darling, I hope you enjoyed this dramafest, lol - and I hope I did both your boys justice. I love how you write them and I hope I managed to stay true to your interpretations ;w; And of course thank you for writing with me, no matter the verse or the bonds with our muses. I love it <3 (and I hope you’re doing all right, dear) Buuut that’s enough rambling outta me! I still need to work on more days to try and stay a bit ahead since I’m busier than I’d like, ahaha~ Hope everyone is enjoying the event n_n

#narutoocxcanonshipweek #noxcsw #kyuuzuchiha #uchiha sasuke #suigin ryū #of monsters and men [ au ]#vulgarity //#gun //#blood //#gore //

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roxywashere · 5 years

Text

New Light

Rey takes her date where no date has gone before

Rey waited outside of Baby’s Diner for her date to finish her shift. It was 4 in the morning. Not an exceptionally late night for her, but she was tired. She cycled some plasma in and out of her veins, to see if that would help her keep energized. She then did a lap around the state park the diner bordered, which did very little to help.

She pulled out her phone and looked up something she thought she remembered. She chuckled when she found it, and then opened up the group chat.

Hey, Shay

What

You’re not going to believe who has tasteful, professionally photographed nudes from back in the 40s

Who

Aradia Johanna Christa Scomparsa-Prince-Furst

You send me those nudes right goddamned now I’m going to give her so much shit for this

Elle make sure she doesn’t hurt herself

Rey shook her head and put her phone away, just as her date, Felicia Kyle, pushed out of the front door of the diner

“So, how was the fight?” Felicia asked.

“Stopped a bank robbery, burned down someone’s garden, broke a rib. Ya know, your standard save the world stuff.”

“Wait, you broke a rib? And then ran here?”

“I got better. Superheroes are pretty tough, you know.”

“Why don’t you tell me more while I drop my car off at my place.” It was a short 15 minute drive to her place, in a trailer park in the nearby township of White Deer.

“This place is…” Rey started to say as she climbed out of the car.

“Let me guess, ‘Rustic’?”

“I mean, in not so condescending a tone. But… yeah.”

“It’s cheaper than living in the city, I bet.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“I’m gonna go get changed out of my uniform. You wanna come inside or wait out here?”

“I’m good out here. I’ve still got to psych myself up.”

After Felicia went inside, Rey massaged her rib. She lifted up her shirt and took a look at it: Aradia’s magic had fixed the physical break, but the flesh around it was still bruised, dark violet and a sickly yellow. Rey’s superhuman physiology would heal it quick, but it definitely wouldn’t be painless by the end of the night.

When Felicia came back out, she had almost completely transformed. She almost looked like she belonged in Rey’s group of friends: Torn jeans, black leather jacket, black crop-top.

“Lookin’ good,” Rey said.

“I know how to fix myself up all cosmopolitan-like. I wasn’t always a trailer park gal, you know.”

“Oh yeah? Where you from?”

“Austin, Texas.”

“Can’t get much more cosmopolitan than Austin.”

“So, how’s this going to work? Are you going to… carry me? For 700 miles?”

“You’d be surprised.” Rey activated her power and had Felicia in a bridal carry before she could blink. “You want to go straight to Danesville? Or do you want to sightsee first?”

“Depends where you take me. What sights are there to see?”

“Ever been to the top of the FursTech tower in New York?”

“Isn’t the top third completely closed off to the public?”

“I’m not the public anymore, am I? Me and Rad, we’re basically besties now.”

“Alright, then, my hot young steed, lead the way.”

Rey bolted from the trailer park and and down the road, and onto the highway, east towards New York City. It was 3 minutes later when Rey stopped in front of the FursTech tower, and put Felicia down to let her catch her breath.

“Holy shit, Rey.”

“That’s how it is for me all the time.”

“Pick me back up, this almost better than sex.”

“You’re gonna eat those words later on.” Rey scooped Felicia back up, and stared up at the tower. “Brace yourself.”

Rey ran straight up the side of the tower, slower than she usually would but fast enough that Felicia wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. They were at the top in less than a second. Rey set Felicia back down so she could enjoy the view.

“Jesus, this is unbelievable…”

They sat at the top of the tower silently for ten minutes, watching the lights of the cities and highways.

“So, where next?” Felicia asked.

“Ever been to the west coast?”

“I visited LA for vacation once.”

“Good enough for me.” Rey picked Felicia up once again. “Oh, there’s one more thing I have to show you. I only just learned this since you texted me the first time.” Rey braced to run, and bolted straight off the edge of the building, coming to a stop about a hundred feet from the edge, before starting to fall. Felicia screamed and covered her eyes.

Rey slowly activated her power to slow her fall, until she was going horizontally. After sufficiently long time not having hit the ground, Felicia cracked her eyes open again, and looked around, astonished. “You can fly?”

“You betcha.”

“How fast can you fly?”

“You wanna find out with me?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Rey ramped up her power, to the point where she could feel her plasma reserves empty, and needed to draw from the Heart on her back. She kept going, pushing herself even further. She felt the Heart draining. She’d never burned through this much plasma so fast ever, she may not have even used up this much plasma in the entire rest of her life. She didn’t know how fast she was going, but she was beyond words like “fast”.

“Hey, you seeing that?” Felicia asked. Rey was pretty sure she was. It looked like she was seeing her plasma trail in front of her. She raced past streak after streak, until they merged together, and the streaks became a solid tunnel of plasma.

“What the fuck is happening…” Rey muttered.

“Are you gonna stop speeding up?”

“I think I did…”

Rey and Felicia suddenly hit a wall of light, and were spat out of the plasma tunnel above a bright sunny desert, and very quickly slowed to a stop.

“Where the hell are we?” Rey asked.

Felicia, looking around, pointed behind Rey. “I think I see some buildings over there.”

Rey turned and flew in that direction. When they reached it, they found a vast slumped skeleton of a massive skyscraper, draped across the desert, less than two miles from the sea. Much smaller towers poked out of the desert around it.

“Rey… I think this is Dubai. That’s the Burj on its side right there.”

“What the fuck happened? It looks like the city’s been abandoned for a thousand years…” Rey gave Felicia a disturbed look.

“Did we just fucking time travel? Did you go so fast you punched through time?”

“Hey, this is new for me, too.”

“Identify yourself!” ordered a voice from behind Rey. Rey turned to face the source, and found a familiar face floating a few dozen feet from her.

It was the Archangel, the mysterious benefactor of Astra’s League, wearing what looked to be a suit of sleek golden power armor, helmetless, with a long flowing sky blue cape.

“Rey?” the Archangel asked, apparently just as perplexed as Rey was. “How did you get here? We detected an interversal incursion… Was that you?”

“Fuck if I know.” Rey answered.

The Archangel sighed. “You speed-forced it, didn’t you. You went so fast you broke the barrier between worlds. You weren’t this powerful when we fought Therion.”

Rey spun around, showing the Archangel the Heart that Aradia had given her. “Rad spotted me an upgrade. She said you made it.”

“I did. I am happy to see him being put to good use. Who is this with you?”

“This is my date, Felicia.”

“That’ll explain it. I remember when I used to be that much a show-off…”

“Where are we?”

The Archangel hesitated for a moment. “…Let me show you.” She turned and started flying northwest, quickly picking up speed. Rey had no trouble keeping pace. They crossed the middle east in only a minute, eastern europe and scandinavia in another two, and the north atlantic in another five. As they shot past a winterset europe, Rey thought she saw spots of gold glimmering in the snow, but from miles up it was hard to tell. It was a similar story across Canada, but when they neared the midwest, it was a solid blanket of gold with small islands of snow instead of the other way around.

A massive metroplex stretched from northern Minnesota, around the coastal edges of Wisconsin and north Michigan, down through Illinois, and across southern Michigan and into the southernmost reaches of Canada. The sun was just rising here, and every building that could see the sun was glittering golden in the light of dawn.

The Archangel flew down towards the center of the city, where Danesville would have been if this were the Earth that Rey knew. She landed swiftly in a park in front of a massive palace, and the power armor unfolded and she stepped out of it. She was wearing a skintight bodysuit, upon which were mounted a series of decorative golden plates. The cape that had been threaded out the back of the armor was revealed to be a light cloak, held around her shoulders by a small pin with a image of a sun on it, radiating 16 points of light.

Rey landed a bit rougher, and put Felicia down.

Despite evidently being the dead of winter, the air was comfortably warm and the grass was a vibrant green. There were dozens of people milling around the very large park, playing in the snow or walking through it. The were also many animals walking around: elephants, rats, wolves and dogs, otters, cats, pigs and boars, and even some dolphins and octopi floating through the air or in small blobs of floating water, and then countless birds: crows and ravens, and parrots and pigeons, and some hawks and eagles. The animals were dressed in the same style as the humans: an interchangeable assortment of bodysuits, robes, and decorative armor.

“This… is New Jerusalem,” The Archangel said, “my homeworld.”

“It looks like Earth,” Rey said.

The Archangel led them towards the palace, and up the marble steps that rose nearly 100 feet above the park. “We did once call it that, and some still do. Years ago this world was just like any other Earth. I was seventeen when the Revelation occured, and changed all life on this world forever. It’s a very long story, but the short of it, is every living human on Earth was gifted powers by the Goddess of this ‘verse, and we used our powers to build Utopia on Earth. No-one here wants for anything, all is provided free of scarcity.”

The doors of the palace were 200 feet tall, and made of marble and gold. The Archangel gently pressed her palm against them and they silently opened, frictionlessly floating on their hinges until they just as gently stopped.

Even though the sun was still rising behind them, the enormous chamber behind the doors looked like it was lit through the skylights above it, and when Rey examined it closely she realized the skylights were actually an impossibly complex series of mirrors. The roof was held up by 10-foot thick pillars of gold and marble, and on each pillar was a lamp that looked like someone had taken a Heart, much like the one Aradia had given Rey, and carefully peeled it open to reveal the miniature sun within.

“Jesus Christ…” Felicia muttered.

As they neared the end of the hall, they stopped in front of a 20-foot-tall lifelike statue of a young girl, with brown hair and golden eyes, holding up a hand towards the sky, above which was levitating a golden orb, peacefully spinning according to some unknowable pattern. Her eyes were crying a fountain that ran down her face and over her clothes until it reached the pool at the bottom.

Rey found the girl familiar, but couldn’t place why.

On the other side of the fountain was another door, half the size of the first, and through it was another skylight-mirror lit room. At the end of it was a Throne, one designed for a human twice the normal size, beneath enormous tapestries hanging from the ceiling detailing events Rey could only barely comprehend, battles between angels and demons and gods and aliens and other unknowable things. Sitting in the throne was a giantess, ten feet tall, wearing white and gold robes and an elegantly ornate golden crown with a glowing white jem on the brow.

“Good morning, Roxy,” the giantess said. “I see you have brought some guests, they look not to be from around here. I trust you remember the policies for introducing the unready to our world, and the punishments.” The giantess subtly reached for the two giant weapons on either side of her throne: a hammer with a head the size of an oil drum on her left, and a sword as tall as she was on her right.

“Calm down, Romana.” the Archangel insisted. “Rey traveled between worlds under her own power. If that’s not proof of her readiness then there is no such thing. And arriving here on accident, the metanarrative guided her. This was meant to be, for whatever reason yet to be revealed.”

“We’ll see.” Romana leaned back and relaxed.

A large raven flew in from the entrance of the throne room, and perched on the end of the handle of Romana’s hammer. “What do we have here? Are you bringing us another child of yours from another unspeakable escapade?”

“For once this one isn’t mine, I’m pretty sure.”

“I’m sorry, can we go back a step,” Felicia pleaded. “That bird can talk.”

“Humans weren’t the only ones given gifts by our Goddess,” the Archangel explained. “All the most intelligent creatures of Earth were uplifted. This is Muninn, Prince of the Corvans.”

“At your service,” Muninn said, bowing.

“We’re headed for my workshop, would you like to accompany us?” the Archangel asked Muninn.

“I would be honored.” Muninn hopped down from the hammer and glided to the Archangel’s shoulder.

The Archangel led Rey and Felicia deeper into the palace, walking down seemingly endless halls and past lush gardens. Eventually they reached a 20-foot tall door made of a black metal banded by gold. The Archangel pushed through it, and as soon as the door cracked open the sound of hammering suddenly washed over them.

Behind the door was a enormous chamber lit by a dozen furnaces lining the walls, and a dozen holograms that sat throughout the room, lines of light tracing patterns both arcane and technological.

On the back wall was a ring a foot deep made of gold, silver, and black metal, forty feet in diameter, behind which was a blank wall. About twenty feet in front of the ring was a small dias covered in glowing sigils and runes.

At one of the furnaces were two ten-foot-tall humanoid constructs, glowing from within by a white light, hammering away at a large piece of white-hot metal. In front of one of the holograms was a woman, wearing a silver bodysuit and armor and a pair of spectacles, drawing at the hologram, modifying the design it displayed. Next to her was a tall bearded indian man, wearing a close-fitted black robe and an eye patch, with scars poking out from beneath them.

The Archangel glided quickly to their sides and whispered something in their ears, which Rey had no chance of hearing over the sound of hammering, though Felicia did tilt her head as if she were attempting to.

“These are my friends, Eitri and Jayadev,” the Archangel introduced once she was done conspiring with them. “E, J, this is Rey and Felicia, from Astra’s Earth. Rey is friends with Aradia.”

Eitri and Jayadev turned to face their guests and bowed. Rey suddenly realized that she recognized them.

Eitri seemed to notice the look of familiarity on her face. “You did attend the Astra Academy, correct? You must have met our counterparts Ethel Adams and Jake Newark, then.”

“Yeah, I did. I was in their classes.”

Eitri walked around to another hologram, and started typing at a panel of glyphs next to it. “Just to fill you in,” she started, “The Astraverse, as we call it, is a heavily metanarrative reflection of our world, which is why, as you have discovered, it tends to produce individuals identical to individuals in ours, to the point where with only a scant single exception, every single person born on your world has or had a counterpart here.”

“Who is the exception?” Rey asked.

“Astra herself, which is the reason hers is the name we use to identify your world.”

“Wait,” Felicia interrupted. “You said Newark. Isn’t that the last name of Babalon? Are you related?”

Jayadev visibly winced at the mention of the supervillainess. “In both your world and ours, my sister succumbed to the enticing call of wickedness. She is powerful, a scourge that I deeply regret I hadn’t eradicated before it took root.”

The Archangel rested a hand on Jayadev’s shoulder. “That was as much my failure as yours, J. I’m the one who drove her to it.”

“I just fought her in my world,” Rey said. “I don’t blame you at all for not being able to stop her.” Rey lifted up her shirt to expose her deeply bruised ribs. “She’s a caliber all on her own, fast as Hell and hits like a truck.”

“If you fought her and lived you must be quite powerful. What are your powers, if I may ask,” Jayadev said to change the subject.

Rey held out her hand and drew some plasma out of the Heart, forming it into a ball in her palm, before absorbing it into her veins, briefly allowing it to overcharge her, causing her to visibly vibrate, and then she dashed to the other side of the room and back, leaving behind her plasma trail to indicate that she had moved at all.

“Very impressive,” Jayadev said. “Speedsters of your caliber are few and far between. And how about you?” He asked Felicia.

“Oh, I’m not-” Felicia responded. “I’m just a normal human.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“Since it’s only fair,” Eitri said. “I have an expanded intellect and enhanced stamina.”

“I,” Muninn said, “have an uplifted mental capacity, and reflexes, and a boost to flying speed, and can mildly telekinese to compensate for my evolutionarily unforgivable lack of fingers.”

“For me,” Jayadev said, “It’s best to show you.” He ripped off his robe, revealing a black bodysuit underneath it, and stretched, cracking his joints. In less than a second, he dramatically transformed, his limbs becoming longer and leaner, his face sharper and elongated, dark black fur spreading across his skin, until he was a large man-shaped wolf, and then continued until he was completely a wolf with all human traits removed. His clothes had all dissolved into his skin, excepting only his eyepatch, which remained covering a still heavily scarred eye. Even as a wolf on all fours, he was still taller than the Archangel.

The Archangel reached over and gave him a scritch around the ears, which he leaned into enthusiastically. “Don’t be afraid of him, he’s really just a big puppy.”

“I can’t wait to talk to Aradia about all of this,” Rey said. “She’s been here too? You said they knew her.”

“That’s the thing…” The Archangel started. “I have brought her here secretly, but because she's not yet technically earned the readiness that our law requires to introduce her to our world, I cannot show her everything I wish I could.”

Rey realized something. “She had a counterpart here, you were close with her. That statue outside the throne room, that was Rad, I recognized her.”

The Archangel nodded. “She was my niece. She died before she was given a chance to flourish as she has in your world. I’m so proud of what she’s accomplished, all of her progress to make your world more like ours. But we miss her dearly here.”

“Making our world like yours… I’ve never seen anything like this place, it seems so perfect. Peaceful.”

“Just wait until you see the gladiatorial combat,” Eitri dryly noted.

“Our world is peaceful because we have no need to fight for resources and manpower. People work if they desire work to do, but if they don’t they live free of cost. Everyone is free to spend day and night doing whatever they wish. All soldiers are volunteers, signing up to protect their world because they are capable of defending it, and are willing to pass on if they were to give their lives in the process. But our world didn’t just come into being fully formed. Countless people bled and died to each take a turn to swing the hammer to help forge it. When Therion, the Demon King, made his first attempt to conquer our world he did so by first slaughtering 99% of humanity with his army of 100,000 fellow Demons.”

“The Demon King sounds like more and more of a nightmare the more and more I hear about him,” Felicia said.

“Therion makes the Joker look like a youtube prankster, and Thanos look like a schoolyard bully. I helped create Astra’s League in your world to give your world even the slightest chance to survive encountering him, and it was only barely enough.”

“Therion was borne to cause strife and suffering, fundamentally: it’s coded into the very structure of his soul,” Eitri said. “So we took the mantle of stopping him and his ilk from plunging all of the omniverse into chaos.”

“Above you used to be Astra’s League, the guardians of your world,” The Archangel said. “Now that you are a member of Astra’s League, above you now is us, Yggdrasil, the guardians of the multiverse. As for what’s above us, well, maybe one day we’ll all find out.” The Archangel walked over to the dias in the back of the room. “You should head home.”

She punched in a series of glyphs into the panel on the dias, and then a portal opened within the ring on the wall, showing the peak of FursTech Tower in Danesville on Rey’s Earth.

Aradia was meditating in her workshop, and when she suddenly heard the hammering in the Archangel’s workshop she was shocked out of her meditation. She ran to the balcony near the portal. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Rey sheepishly peered around the edge of the portal. “Hey, Rad… Guess what I learned I can do…”

“Oh, fuck me,” Aradia muttered, cradling her face in her hands. “You speed-forced it, didn’t you.”

“That was the exact same thing she said!” Felicia pointed out.

“Rey, you and I need to have a very long talk about your responsibilities and expectations as a member of the League. Thanks for getting her back home, Roxy.”

“You keep a close eye on her, Rad,” The Archangel told Rad. “She’s got even more potential than we first thought.” She turned to Rey and Felicia. “Now, git. I’ve got work to do.”

Rey picked Felicia up and floated through the Portal and landed on Aradia’s balcony. The Archangel pressed the big central button on the dias, and the portal snapped shut

“What were the results of the soul scans,” She demanded as soon as it did.

“Well,” Eitri answered, “for one, Felicia lied about not having powers.”

“I could tell.”

“As for Rey, there’s no doubt about it: she’s a native New Jerusalemite. How does she not know?”

“I’ll be looking into it.”

#astraverse #rey walker #superhero #superhero literature #serial story #Writing

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me-myself-and-my-fos · 5 years

Text

Navin Week Day 1: Thanksgiving

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Nic Blake

Summary: Nic goes on a trip down memory lane and brings Gavin with her

Word count: 2.2k+

From the moment they met, Gavin knew Nic didn’t get along with her family. He never met her parents, and didn’t push to unless she wanted him to. And from the start she made it clear that she was not in any way ashamed of him, but of her parents. When Nic moved to Detroit she only brought with her the memories she wanted, leaving behind practically her whole life. Sometimes Gavin felt guilty about this, and Nic would remind him she did it of her own free will. She hasn’t looked back since, so when she came to Gavin one afternoon and told him she wanted to visit her hometown for Thanksgiving, Gavin was taken by surprise. He loved his wife, he really did, but sometimes her ideas were questionable at best. But upon seeing the pleading look in her eyes, he agreed without question.

He took a week off from work since they’d be in Virginia Beach for a week. Nic seemed excited, she talked nearly nonstop on the flight about all of her old stomping grounds that she was going to take him to. The hotel they were staying at was right by the beach which Nic did purposely. By the time they landed she was practically vibrating in her seat. A taxi ride to the car rental office and they headed to unpack. It was much warmer than Gavin expected—he was only used to weather in Detroit. While it was still chilly, there was no snow which only slightly surprised him. By early November Detroit was normally covered in a thin layer of white but there was just a bitter cold that wrapped the city of Virginia.

Gavin noticed Nic’s driving was much better than it was in Detroit. He figured it had something to do with that she grew up on these streets and knew how native Virginians drove. The hotel was nice, Nic having booked them a room with a balcony that overlooked the beach (“We call it the Oceanfront, the Beach is the city. You’ll get used to the slang.” She explained as some point). It was only eleven in the morning so Nic eagerly requested that she drive him all the way to her favorite childhood bakery in the next city, Norfolk. It was at least an hour drive to said bakery, and upon arrival Nic was bouncing on her heels as she dragged him to the mud green, rusty exterior bakery with large words on the sign saying “The French Bakery”. His wife quickly explained how she had been going there since she was small and that she knew the owners almost personally. This reigned true as she opened the door, a small bell ringing and an older middle eastern gentleman coming from the back to greet the customers only to break out in a grin and calling Nic by an old name long forgotten. She smiled and once they reached the counter, she leaned over and hugged him as he exclaimed that it had been too long since her last visit. She introduced Gavin who was greeted just as warmly, however he felt out of place. Nic ordered two pastrami sandwiches along with a long list of desserts that Gavin knew would give them both stomach aches that night. In his opinion they spent too much money but the grin on his wife’s face made it worth it. As they drove back to their hotel, both eating their lunch and making a mess of the front seats, Nic went on to tell him how she was surprised to find the bakery still open and how she expected it be out of business. Gavin listened intensely, devouring his meal and coming to the conclusion that the expense was well spent.

They spent the afternoon unpacking and eating the desserts bought, and both went to bed with stomach aches. Nic said it was worth it.

The next morning Gavin woke up early and ordered room service, wanting to get an early start that day. Nic woke up at half past seven, and that was late in Nic’s opinion. She woke up to pancakes with blueberry syrup and a cup of coffee, and Gavin half soaked wearing nothing but a towel as he stepped out of the shower.

That day she took him to the golf course with a long winded story of how that exact golf course is where she had her seventh birthday party and she hadn’t played a game of golf since. Her inexperience showed as she lost the game, a score of 130 to Gavin’s 80. He still questioned how she managed to get such a high score on an 18 hole course. After the game they got lunch at one of the many restaurants that rested on the strip that was the Oceanfront. Many shops were closed, Nic telling him that they normally closed for the winter since there weren’t any tourists. Virginia was a tourist heavy spot during the summer, something Nic loathed in her youth. After lunch, Gavin was dragged to the many stores that stayed open. Some of them had useless souvenirs, others had neat collectibles or stones that seemed to interest Nic. She left Virginia at nineteen and coming back home after nearly a decade gave her a large wave of nostalgia. She wanted to show Gavin everything she enjoyed, although they only had a week which wasn’t enough time in her opinion.

That night, she dragged Gavin to her favorite barbecue restaurant. It was the best barbecue Gavin had in a while and he was disappointed that it’s so far away. He joked a bit that they’d have to fly down to Virginia again if he ever gets in the mood for barbecue. That night was the first time Gavin has also seen Nic so relaxed. She really seemed to be enjoying this trip on memory lane, focusing on all of the positives.

They went to bed that night in a pile of limbs as they cuddled, Gavin suggesting they come back again for her birthday.

The next few days were blurs as Nic dragged him to several different places, all of which held special places in her memory. At one point, Nic brought him to her old high school to visit her favorite World History teacher who happened to still be teaching at that school. They talked to the class, a mix of freshmen, sophomores, and juniors, with a lone senior. Some of students seemed to be fascinated with Nic, asking mostly questions about college and studying advice since she had been in their exact spot. She was disappointed when it was time to leave, but she managed to catch her old English teacher as well last minute as they were leaving campus. He told her about the Holiday Thrift Shop the school held every year about Thanksgiving. Nic insisted to Gavin they go before leaving for Detroit. They did go, buying some trinkets such as healing rings that Nic insisted on using for her wrists.

The second to last of their trip was Thanksgiving Day, and Nic has something special planned for them. She drove them out for two hours, not bothering to tell Gavin where they were headed. The moment Gavin notices the sign with the word “cemetery” in it, he had a good feeling what was going on. They parked in the loop, walked through the crunchy, frost covered grass down rows and rows of gravestones. They finally arrived at the gravestone with two familiar names and dates. Those names and dates were tattooed on Nic’s forearm.

With hands stuffed in her pockets, Nic spoke quietly. “Hey grandma, hey grandpa.” She smiled softly, and Gavin saw tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I know it’s been a long time… too long, honestly. But I didn’t forget about you. I didn’t forget about where I came from. I just needed a chance to find me.” She shrugged, giving a teary smile to the grave. “I found her. I had to lose a lot of family on the journey but… I think it was worth it. Besides, they wouldn’t like who I am now anyways. I know you two would though. Yeah, you were always proud of me no matter what.” Nic looked over at Gavin and held out her hand to him. He took it, tangling their fingers together as he rubbed his thumb over her wedding ring. “I want y’all to meet someone.” Gavin almost laughed. Her accent had gotten stronger since being there. “This is my husband, Gavin. He’s really good to me, and I love him a lot. I know if given the chance, y’all would have loved him too.”

He cleared his throat, not wanting to intrude in the moment but feeling the need to speak. “I promise I’ll take care of her.” He brought her hand up and kissed it. “Always.”

On the way back from the cemetery, Nic stopped by a small family owned diner. She ate there every time she would visit her grandparents’ grave and got to know the family that owned it. It originally owned by a lovely old woman named Ruth, and her husband. They have children, and two of their daughters worked in the diner alongside their parents. After the passing of Ruth and her husband, their oldest daughter took over the diner along with her sister, now both sisters and their children ran it. To say the diner was family friendly was an understatement. Nic insisted that Gavin get the clam chowder, her favorite soup of all time. He enjoyed it a lot more than he expected.

That evening, they went to the gift shop on the boardwalk and got some fudge. Nic got it every time she went to the Oceanfront and stated that it was the last thing she ate before leaving Virginia. She got half a pound of her favorite dark chocolate caramel sea salt fudge. Gavin got a pound which gave him the option to pick four different flavors. He picked peanut butter, red velvet, chocolate pecan, and white chocolate. The fudge ended up being their dinner, once again giving the couple stomach aches to nurse for the night.

Their last day was more intimate. They spent a good portion of it in the hotel room, watching tv on the crappy hotel television and listening to the waves. Come afternoon, Nic went out to the beach to have a walk. She was barefoot and in shorts, walking in the shallow part of the ocean where the water barely reached her ankles. Gavin joined her after a few moments, not wanting her to experience this alone. Hand in hand, they walked the length of the beach and back in comfortable silence. The waves and the cawing of crows and hooting of pigeons filled their silence. They watched the sunset, night blanketing the earth and making the air too chilly for their liking. They went back inside the hotel, opting to take a nice warm shower to combat the cool air.

Gavin sat on the bed, flipping through channels with the remote in an effort to fight off the boredom gnawing at his mind as he waited for her to get out. God, he thought, she always takes the longest showers. When Nic finally did, pajamas on and hair still soaked despite ten minutes of drying it, she sat down in front of Gavin, smiling softly. He shut off the tv.

“Thank you for doing this,” she said, taking one of his hands in hers and playing with his scarred, calloused fingers.

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I had a lot of fun.” There was a pause. “If you ever want to do this again, just let me know. I’ll take off and we can fly down, whether just for a day or a week, or a month…”

Nic snorted. “I cannot stay for a whole month. I would go insane. Virginia gets pretty boring after a while.”

“With the places you took me, hardly seems like there’s a dull moment.”

She pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah well, I took you to the fun places.” Her smile dropped as fell into deep thought.

Gavin knew that look. “Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“Just…” she sighed, going back to playing with his fingers, “thinking.”

“About what?”

“I’m not gonna lie, when I planned this trip… I wanted you to meet my parents.”

“Nico–”

“I decided against it on the flight here. I realized, I should focus on the things that make me happy, like you and fudge and buying stupid souvenirs that we are never going to look at again.” She laughed, and Gavin laughed with her. “The positive memories are what made me come back, the negative ones should stay in the past.”

“I know you tell me how happy I make you, and I don’t doubt you about it, but…” Gavin tried to think of the right words. He never was a words guy. Hell, Abby helped him with his vows. But Nic didn’t marry him for his words. He continued, “But this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a long time. Your smile? I haven’t seen that one since our wedding day. So, once I saw that smile that you only break out for the purest moments, I knew this would be good for you.”

Nic tackles him onto the bed, her chin resting on his chest. “You’re so sappy.”

“Only for you.”

“I know.” She grinned. “I love you.”

“I love you too, nerd.”

#foweek #gavin reed #bastard husband #dbh #navin #self ship #self shipping community #my writing #self insert fic #mywriting

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