#and the crazy ramblings of your brain that tell you that the pieces totally fit together! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leggomylino · 4 years

Text

Roses Are Red | Bang Chan

Genre: fluff, a little (ridiculous) drama, and a whole lot of crack

Pairing: Bang Chan x princess!reader

Au: royal / fantasy au

Word Count: ~11.2k

Warning(s): some censored language…?, author rambling on and on, some underdeveloped plot what can I say this is mostly for laughs and giggles

Summary: Royal Gardener Christopher Bang only ever wanted to make music all his life, but being orphaned due to a senseless war against the Fire Nation left him at the hands of the kingdom to decide his fate. When tending to some of the many royal roses one day, he happened upon the kingdom’s princess, Y/n, and love at first sight was quite the understatement. However, what they are both unaware of is that she may already be betrothed to another…

A/n: Requested by @hanniiesuckle17 | Masterlist linked down below and in bio!!!

Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17 / @distrikt9 / @hanstagrams / @hyunsunq / @smolboiseavey / @jisungsjheekies / @iluvlix / @straycozy / @stay-nctzen (Let me know if you’d like to be added! Comment, ask, or DM me! <3)

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Howdy y’all

It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in this format…

I know many of you are still waiting for me to finish light switch and let me tell you it IS still...under construction ._.”

I can’t stay loyal to one story at a time and life gets hectic ya dig?

...But I promise that EVENTUALLY MAYBE SOMETIME SOON I’ll get around to carving the second half of it

N E way let’s get this ball rolling! ->

So once upon a time in a far away land…

...Did you just roll your eyes or yawn? >:(( Don’t do that this is totally exciting

Okay so once upon a time in a far away land

There was a princess named Y/n <3 yes, that would be you, sis

She was the cream of the crop, the bees knees, the peanut butter to everyone’s jelly

...Well maybe like 90% of the jelly

There’s always gonna be haters or skeptics nothing we can do about that ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway you were basically loved by almost everyone in the kingdom, for your kindness, hospitality, forthcomingness, honesty, bravery, generosity, and sophistication

Also, you were quite beautiful <3 like now teehee

But there was only one problem

Besides the fact that 10% of the jelly jar had peanut butter lodged in their brain

And that was that your father, the king, refused to let you go outside. Like ever. The only time you saw the sun and felt the wind through your hair was from your highest-Rapunzel-tower window, during required festival appearances or during emergency evacuations because THE FIRE NATION WAS ATTACKING!!!! 🔥 (╯°□°)╯🔥🔥🔥

This, however, rarely happened...er, maybe just once, but it was a false alarm because your half-brother Felix had stayed up too late playing video games (YES there is technology in this medieval au sorry not sorry) and he was just...seeing things

He’d been really stressed because his mother, your actually kind and not at all wicked stepmother, had been lowkey pressuring him to find a lovely princess consort or young fletching maiden

He didn’t necessarily have a problem with that, except for the fact that the whole thing was a huge problem that was stressing him out...marriage??? What was that again??? He kinda just wanted to run around the forest practicing archery with his friends, Dark Knight Changbin and Court Jester Jisung (read: pizza and video games)

BUT THIS WASN’T ABOUT HIM, THIS STORY IS ABOUT YOU (ง'̀-'́)ง

...Which is what I was getting at

You see

Felix was a great brother regardless of his mistake of screaming about a false Fire Nation attack and throwing you out of bed at 4 am

Besides being fun and great support/company, he also had this...friend...

A boy named Christopher Bang (♥‿♥)

He often went by Bang Chan tho, and he was ALSO your kingdom’s royal gardener

You know this because you often enjoyed watching him tend to the roses outside your tower, and occasionally would hide in the closet when you were SUPPOSED to be at violin lessons but instead dressed Felix up as your stunt double to spy while Chan watered and changed out the soil of the daffodils in your room

Daffodils were your favorite flower next to tulips and cherry blossoms and sunflowers

And

Almost every other flower in existence that Chan had anything to do with (♥‿♥)

...What could you say, you were hopelessly in love

But he didn’t know that

And the odd thing was

He felt the very same way about you

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Can we finally get to some real-time story now?

Okay well

Channie’s pov now here y’all

Bang Chan had been the castle gardener for what felt like eons

His parents had disappeared to fight in the war with the Fire Nation and never came back…

:(((

So from a young age, before he was old enough to count, his mom and dad entrusted him to kingdom’s orphanage with care

The local nuns raised him well, and blessed him many times over

He grew up with two best friends there -> a shy boy named Han Jisung and a more confident one named Seo Changbin

The three of them were transferred to work under the kingdom after the local coming-of-age ceremony given to all children when they turn 15

And I totally didn’t steal half of that from an anime or anything...well, just a bit; 25%

So the three of them were whisked off to be given roles of their own to fulfill in order to contribute to society

Changbin was given the title of Dark Knight for his bravery and supreme combat skills

Jisung was awarded the title of Court Jester due to the fact he always made everyone laugh, despite his naturally shy and more introverted demeanor

And Bang Chan, as he preferred to be called, was granted the title of gardener...because...well, they actually denied his musician application, believe it or not

Now, before you get mad

I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!

ARE THESE GUYS FOOLS OR SOMETHING???

WHO WOULD DENY SUCH A TALENTED--

...Well, they were ignorant buffoons, unfortunately (｡•́︿•̀｡)

So he was forever stuck as a royal gardener because, he worked hard, the court knew it, and their predecessor gardener at the time was kidnapped by the Fire Nation

No one knows why and it’s not important (sorry random garden dude)

He’s okay though...we think

Anyway

So Bang Chan fit the role

And now at 23, to this day he still fit the role

It was the same mundane routine every day

W a t e r t h e p l a n t s

C u t t h e v e g e t a b l e s

S n i p t h e t h o r n s

T r i m t h e v i n e s

C h a n g e t h e s o i l

U G H ! ! !

It got to be downright tedious and vexing repeating the same routine like a Zombie by Day6

Which is the song he often hummed with a lull in his eyes as he w a t e r e d and c u t and s n i p p e d and t r i m m e d

And c h a n g e d eua;bhuisahfvirs WAIT A SECOND

(Oh, we’re backing up to age 16 for a sec)

He’s outside the tallest tower s n i p p i n g the thorns on another rose bush when

He looks up to see what time of day it is and stretch his aching back

And he sees

Up in the window

A g i r l ? ? ?

……

Who is she

She’s GORGEOUS

WOW

HE HAS TO SQUINT BUT HE’S STILL GOT 20/20 VISION AND HE KNOWS A CUTE GIRL WHEN HE SEES ONE

HE’S GOT TEENAGE BOY RADAR

Wowza

She’s h o t 🥵🥵

Like the sun beating down on his face right now

Hot hot

Bruuuuuuuuuuuh--

OUCH! The thorns…

He can’t be getting lost in the waking daydream glancing out her window above him, he’s got a job to do

Flashforward to a few days later, when he makes an excuse to go back to Tower C and tend to the roses that don’t need tending to

She’s not there :((

Darn

He looks left and right before burying himself into the bushes so he can wait and see if she shows up

But this poor boy is so overworked that he falls asleep

Poor guy needed a nap anyway 😔😔

He’s having a peaceful dreamless sleep when a song enters his mind

It’s actually a song he wrote, when he applied to be a castle musician

He wakes to hearing the song above him

The sweet, sweet melody just wafting daintily through the air

It’s coming from somewhere above him

...But he’s snagged in the thorn bush and can’t get out 🗿💧

O o p s

Rip

Maybe the bushes did need some work after all--

By the time he rips himself out and basically lost half of his shirt in the process, the song is almost over, coming to a soft decrescendo into a gentle pianissimo

That’s fancy music talk for slowly growing softer and more quiet and ending with a soft, maybe slightly breathy tone

Thankfully it’s cloudy that day so he doesn’t have to squint this time

And BOY IS HE GLAD ABOUT THAT BECAUSE GOOD GRAVY

IT’S HER AGAIN

THE LOVELY MAIDEN HE SAW TWO DAYS AGO

WHO IS SHE?!?!

“Oh, that’s Princess Y/n.”

JISUNG?!?! WHERE DID YOU COME FROM

Boy deadass just pops out of a rose bush like a weasel 🗿💧 what the what

His court jester hat has a few loose thorns in it, and it’s fallen askew to cover half of his face

“...That’s Princess Y/n?” Chan askes, totally in awe

You have such a lovely voice

And he’s bewildered as to how you know his song, seeing as it was a confidential piece he only played for a private group of royals once when auditioning

Jisung just nods, fixing his hat only to have a few of the bells bounce around and whop him in the face

One jingled all the way right into his eye…

But he carries on unaffected; must be used to it <_<

“Yeah, her dad is a total overbearing crazy-protective psycho. ...Well, maybe not psycho, but...he’s crazy protective of his daughter. He’s scared if she takes one step outside, some Fire Nation goon is gonna come popping out of a bush like Team Rocket in almost every old school pokemon episode and kidnap her like Pikachu.”

“...I thought Pikachu always got away.”

“...Oh yeah. 🤔 Bad example then.”

“You are a bad example.”

“Oh yeah?! Well you’re...a good example!”

“...Jisung that was a compliment. And thank you.”

“.........”

...Moving on

“What can you tell me about her?”

“OOOOOOO...Why? You got a crush on her, bro?”

“...I’m just...curious why the king would wanna keep her locked away in a tower like a Christian Anderson tale.”

Jisung sighs and places his hands on his hips like a lecturing mother. “Are you serious? I just told you, His Majesty is crazy overprotective of his only daughter...also, wouldn’t you wanna keep a beauty like that locked away if she were your daughter???”

Chan gives him a disgusted look. “No? Because I’m not an insecure psychopath?? Everyone deserves to be happy and free…” He glances up to the tower. “That can’t be healthy being held prisoner in a giant dungeon like that.”

“True, true...I’d still keep her locked away, though.”

“Jisung!!! Seriously?!”

“WHAT?” (ง'̀-'́)ง “I KNOW HOW TEENAGE BOYS ARE!!! THEY’RE GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS BEFORE I LET ONE OF THEIR GRUBBY LITTLE--”

Chan clamps his hand over his friend’s mouth. “I’m gonna stop you right there. Goodbye, Jisung.”

He looks at you one last time, marveling at your beauty with a hint of pity in his eyes before walking away

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You hadn’t noticed that day, seven years ago, being too lost in a daydream over whether you wanted tea or a nice iced latte with your lunch...despite how loud they were being

It was one of the few enjoyments of your day

One the few things you got to look forward to: choosing what to have for a meal

Choosing what to wear that was within your parent’s standards

Choosing whether you wanted to wile away the hours reading a book or watching Royal TV or scribbling some poorly drawn comics of what your life COULD be like were you NOT a princess with an overbearing father…

S i g h

You’re hanging upside down on your giant canopy bed in a very unladylike fashion when Felix enters the room. You must have not heard him knock, and he’s like

😳😳💧

To which you “oop-” and quickly throw yourself over in an upright position

“...Sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s fine.” He laughs a bit and closes the door behind him. “So, whatcha up to?”

“......”

Did he have to ask you that? The question sort of burned. What were you supposed to do??? “Just...chillin.”

“Like a villain?”

“In the...millen.”

He laughed at your attempt to carry out the rhyme. “What’s a millen?”

You shrugged. He sat down at the dining table you normally ate at, crossing his feet over the table. “Well, I’ll do you one better. I came to ask if you’d like to accompany me to--”

“WHERE?!?!?!”

\(ಠAಠ)/

You’re right there in his face, shaking his shoulders before he can get another word out.

Felix, wanting to take you OUT OF THE PALACE?!??!?!?!?

THAT WAS HUGE

THIS WAS HUGE

OMGRAVY WHAT WOULD YOU WEAR?!

YOU DIDN’T EVEN CARE WHERE YOU WERE GOING, JUST THE FACT THAT YOU WERE GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE WAS ENOUGH

...You should still probably let him finish, though

Felix (@-@) <- was dizzy for a moment, but once he got his head back on straight, he explained that he’d ask your father if the two of you could go shopping together-- just for a few hours

Felix was the sweetest brother ;-; the sweetest BOY ಥ_ಥ

You were going to have so much fun browsing the shops that you’d only ever read about in novels and seen on TV

The two of you would get popcorn and ice cream and feed the pigeons and do rain dances around the park fountain

And you’d come back with so many souvenirs and nostalgic timepieces from your little journey (╥﹏╥)

It was going to be the BEST. DAY. EVER!

*insert that Spongebob episode here*

……

Or not

Because

Shortly after the two of you skipped hand-in-hand like Hansel and Gretel down to the Royal Throne room

Your father gave the two of you a big fat N O

Jerk…

His booming voice declared, “NO BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE SEEN BILLOWING ABOUT THE CITY STREETS!!! That’s like asking to be kidnapped and used as a means of war!!!”

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUASDFGHJKL;;SVBU;IABV;SIFABVIFARHVS

HE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND ANYTHING BUT WAR AND TAXES!!! IT WAS SO ANNOYING!!!

So, the two of you are forced back to your room alone…

And Felix comforts you and apologizes a thousand times over, words that should coming out of your father’s mouth instead

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

~LATER THAT DAY~

Well, it’s more like evening now

The sun is setting comfortably over the horizon

And Felix has just returned from his shopping trip without you 😔😔

Now before you get angry and call him a traitor, he actually had a fit and refused to go

He even came close to knocking over a table

But that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly and his mother was present

It was his mother that insisted he had to go in order to make a required public appearance for the kingdom and “hopefully find a lady that spotted his fancy” or whatever

Yeah, Felix rolled his eyes too

But he had no choice ://

If it makes you feel any better, he didn’t enjoy himself at all

He spent the whole time thinking about you and looking wistfully at the palace in the distance, to the tower you were most likely glaring wistfully back from

He was now tromping tired princely feet up the winding steps to at least give you a nice gift he’d brought back for you, and some flowers he’d gotten from a recently opened flower shop called Christopher’s Garden

A very nice not-yet-elderly couple ran the shop in honor of their lost son, who they hadn’t heard from since they returned from war

The story was quite sad and bittersweet

……

Shhh we’ll get there later it’s called foreshadowing（∩‿∩）

He’s about three-quarters of the way there when he’s suddenly ambushed by-- you guessed it-- Team Rocket!1!1

Jk it’s Jisung and Changbin

They’re the new Jessie and James of this story except they’re actually good

“Felix!!!”

“SH*T!!!”

Oop

They nearly gave him a heart attack!!! >A<

He almost beats them with the flowers, too, until he remembers last minute they’re for you

“WHAT DO YOU WANT NEVER DO THAT AGAIN”

“I CAN’T MAKE ANY PROMISES BUT WE NEED TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SOMETHING”

“WHAT IS IT”

Changbin sighs in his heavy, overzealous knightly gear. “Maybe the two of you can keep it down before you wake the princess?”

Felix shrugs. “Eh, Y/n is always up at this hour. She’s actually a night owl, but don’t tell the king that. Or her teachers.”

Bin smirks. “Noted--”

<_<

Felix has to smack him, which is a hard two second decision but you’re his sister and family comes first 😔😔 But he makes it up by giving Bin a flower, which he awkwardly accepts

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Jisung nods his jingle bell hat all over the place like a bobblehead. “Yeah, okay, so-- check this out!”

He jumps a few steps ahead so he can have room to put on a one-man show. Changbin groans and crosses his arms, while Felix eyes him curiously

“I have this friend, right? Well, we do, actually! Me and Changbin!”

The Dark Knight tilts his head. “You mean Chan?”

“YEA-- I mean, yeah!” He starts bouncing around, mining walking around the garden surrounding the palace walls. “So...I never told you this, but a few years ago...more like seven, I was going for a walk when I spotted him outside the princess’ tower! And I stopped and went ten-thousand stealth mode!”

He mimes diving into the bushes. Changbin rolls his eyes.

“He’d totally fallen asleep in the rose bushes, so I--”

“Could you maybe not talk like you’re twelve?”

“......”

Before the two can start quarreling like a couple of twelve year olds, Felix takes on a responsible air, stepping between them

“Hang on...your friend? Was loitering outside my sister’s room?”

Jisung pops his head over Changbin, which really isn’t that hard. “Yeah, he’s the royal gardener! But like, I don’t think the roses needed tending to that day...and after I revealed myself, he was asking a LOT-- well a few...questions about her. Hint hint, my boy’s in love.”

“Love?”

“Love, bro. Like the real sappy stuff.”

“...Love.”

“...Yes.”

“Your friend. Is in love with my sister.”

“...That would be what I just told you, yes.”

“...Wait. Chan as in, Bang Chan? ...OUR friend Chan?!”

“That’s him!”

“Okay okay hold on,” Changbin waves his arms through the air. “Love is a strong word...and this is Chan we’re talking about. He loves just about everybody. He’s nice and empathetic to everyone. Just last week I had to turn away two maids and a palace chef who’d gotten the same mixed signals.”

Jisung shrugs. “Yeah, well…”

“Also this was seven years ago?!”

“...Yeah…”

Changbin deadpans. “So you got me all hyped about jumping Felix for some love story that probably isn’t even real. Seven years is a long time, Jisung. He may have forgotten about her already-- NOT THAT SHE’S SOMEONE TO BE FORGOTTEN.”

He had to finish that last sentence real quick from the look Felix was giving him. The boy sighs, shifting his gifts into one arm so he can run a small hand through his wind-blown hair. “...This is kind of crazy Jisung, even for you. Why are you bringing this up now of all times?”

“...Well…”

👉👈

“I overheard a royal meeting I shouldn’t have about an hour ago...and your dad was talking about having Y/n engaged.”

“What?!?”

“To the Fire Nation king.”

“WHAT?!?!”

“People often refer to him as Zuko, for reasons unknown, but his real name is Minho.”

“.........”

With fever and a newfound energy, Felix tries bursting up the steps to your room. But unfortunately, Team Rocket stops him.

“MOVE! I have to talk to Y/n about this!!!”

“Hang on! The whole reason I brought up my homeboy in the first place was to maybe stop this suspiciously dangerous and shady deal! If Y/n has already fallen in love with someone else, maybe the king will have a change of heart!!!”

Felix groans, glaring harshly in a manner that isn’t really like him. “Han, her father keeps her locked away in a plush-tailored dungeon and refuses to let her go outside, not even on a short shopping trip with her own brother. He doesn’t want her to be seen, and he certainly doesn’t want her falling in love.”

“Well--!” Han balls his hands into fists. “I WAS TRYING OKAY?! I LIKE Y/N TOO, SHE’S A TIMEPIECE GAL WHEN I’M ACTUALLY ALLOWED TO BE WITHIN TEN FEET OF HER!!!”

“Dang…” Changbin groans. “So you don’t think I’ll be able to ask her out this weekend?”

“......” “......”

The glare he gets from both men is a definite no

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

So what are we to do about a situation like this?

Well I’m glad you asked because we’re about to find out

IRONICALLY right at that moment, you were supposed to be in a late-running math session on how taxing the economy works but

Instead you were blissfully hidden in the closet, watching Chan plant a newly discovered breed of roses on your balcony the author forgot to mention you even had

It was an indoor balcony of sorts; fenced in with mesh and curtains to keep the bugs and trespassers out

There was a cute little garden table with comfy chairs and a small bookshelf

As well as a mini bar and even a small stereo system B))

You’re the princess sis

This was your world since you weren’t allowed to experience the real one

To explain, you had a window right next to it that you often looked out, since your balcony was more or less closed off…

Hopefully that makes sense ._.”

Alright anyhoo

So Chan is planting some gorgeous purple roses that only ever existed in Animal Crossing until now

The most lusciously soft and purpley purple that ever was and ever would be

And here’s you, hunkered down in the closet like a stalker spying on him with one eye and a slit through the cracked door

WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN

Bang!

The door flies open!

A wild Felix appears!1!1

Uh-oh

He’s probably looking for you, but given the equally wild look on his face

He’s probably not aware of Chan’s job, coming in to tend to your plants when you’re scheduled to be absent

Wait they’re friends right

So he isn’t gonna kill him...right?!

Or does this mean he was gonna kill him that much more?!

OH NO

FELIX NO PLS

You’re holding your breath and waiting for the right moment to pounce and topple your half-brother to the floor when apprehensively

He checks his surroundings quickly before shutting the door behind him

……

What the what is this about--

“We need to talk,” Felix starts, pacing to the dining table where he usually sits. Chan freezes, blinking a few times into the roses and the air above them before turning a blank stare the prince’s way.

“Okay,” he states back, “what’s on your mind?”

“About Y/n…”

About you?

“Princess Y/n? What about?”

Yes, what about you?

“...Jisung…” he sighs. “Look, I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked. Let me start by apologizing about that.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. You’re the prince, and I’m the gardener. We’re both quite busy with our—“

“Jisung told me you like Y/n.”

………

…………

……………

I’m s o r r y

WhAT WAS THAT

WHAT DID HE JUST SAY?!

Okay okay hold up

Han Jisung was the court clown and notorious for pranks and lying his ass off

Surely this was just a (albeit cruel) joke…

...Right?!

…

Bang Chan’s ears are turning red

Redder than the roses outside your window

He’s biting his lip, like he wants to say something, but is trying hard to suppress said something

His hands are clenched down into the dirt…

“...Well?” asks Felix. “Is it true?”

“...It’s…”

!!!

WHAT WHAT IT’S WHAT

TELL ME FLOWER BOY WHAT IS IT

SPILL THE BEANS ALREADY

Haha get it…

Beans……

Like seeds……..

...Anyway

“......”

He nods, softly, barely. Bang Chan nods his approval at Felix’s proposed statement.

Is this even real right now…?

Is this allowed?! 😩

Instead of jumping the guy like you thought he would, Felix instead smiles, so brightly it would be enough to scare off the Fire Nation and save thousands of lives

“Oh wow. Oh f*ck. You like my sister. This is...shouldn’t I be mad right now?”

He begins to pace

“...But I’m not. I’m genuinely okay with this. Better than okay. It’s...weird.”

“Probably because Y/n may be saved from marrying Prince Hellhole of the Underworld now.”

The two of them (and you still in the closet) jump at the sound of a new voice wafting in from the ceiling. Looking up, a set of bells can be seen hanging out if the air vent

...Has that always been there?!

Oh my gravy what if Han Jisung has spied on you before

What if someone else has?!

Felix scowls angrily at the vent before lifting a pen off your desk and throwing it with surprisingly good accuracy

It must have hit something because next thing you know Jisung is saying “ow!” and climbing down at the Prince’s demand

“What the hell were you doing up there?!”

“Detective work.”

“You’re banned from doing detective work anywhere near this room.”

“What about Changbin?”

“What?!”

“Oh uhhh...nothing.”

The clanking of heavy armor trying to escape travels across the ceiling…

And Felix huffs.

“CHANGBIN I KNOW THAT’S YOU.”

~~~

So I’m gonna do a mini skip right here to get the ball rolling

After Bin is dragged down and everyone (minus you) is accounted for

The four guys are sitting around your dining table, a sinister(?) plot coming to notion

“Okay,” Felix begins, “So what we know is, according to what Jisung overheard, this arms race war of sorts against the Fire Nation is coming to a rock and a hard place for both sides. And to resolve this issue, it would appear that Y/n is being offered as a bargaining chip. A wedding to unite the two kingdoms.”

……

Everyone is pretty silent

You included, not that you can say anything at the moment…

But just because you’re silent on the outside doesn’t mean you don’t have a million thoughts racing through your head

Let’s get to the most pressing one that’d likely catch your attention first: MARRIAGE?!?!

With whom?!?!

How dare some old geezers try and pawn you off without your permission?! To the enemy?!? To a man you didn’t even know?!?!

WHAT IF HE WAS REALLY OLD

OR GROSS

OR BOTH

OR WHAT IF--

Han suddenly has something to say

Then again when does the boy not

He lunges across the table to grasp at Chan’s hands. “PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO MARRY THE PRINCESS SO SHE WON’T BE SENT AWAY AND I CAN STOP AWKWARDLY CATCHING YOU SPYING ON HER OUTSIDE!!!”

!!!

OH UH

WHA?!

Chan’s ears are turning red again. He’s got a brow quirked like he doesn’t know what Jisung is talking about, but averts his gaze all the same in a guilty manner

Felix is tapping his fingers against his forearm in an attempt to ignore that confession

And Changbin is just sitting next to Chan half confused and half annoyed

“I- I can’t just… Jisung what you’re asking is…”

“It’s too much,” Bin cuts in. “Jisung you can’t just ask someone, much less tell them, to marry a person they have a far-longing crush on, but really know nothing about. They’ve never even spoken to each other before, I can assume, and you’re telling them to spend the rest of their lives in a commitment? That’s intense.”

Jisung pouts. “Yeah, but…!”

“What if we just faked a marriage?”

Three stunned faces (four if we’re counting you) turn eyes upon the eldest and only prince. He smiles warmly, sending a warily comforting shiver down your spine that you have trouble placing as good or bad.

“What do you mean?” Changbin asks.

“I doubt the king is going to accept Y/n’s wishes in all of this, so we can’t just have her or Chan ask to be wed. But if they’re already married…”

Jisung’s face lights up. “Then there’s nothing the king or Fire Nation fools can do about it!!! That’s BRILLIA--”

“But it would just be a ruse. We’ll have a fake license made, and I can supply the rings. I’ve got plenty of underground connections~”

You’re looking at Chan’s face to see what he thinks of all this, but unfortunately his back is to you, and Changbin is blocking 90% of your view…

You can, however, see that his ears are still a flushed scarlet, as well as the base of his neck

“Would you be okay with that?”

He jumps. Felix and the others blink expectantly.

“...Huh?”

“...Are you okay with being my sister’s fake husband for a few hours?”

It’s gotta be the awkwardest question you’ve ever heard coming out of your brother’s mouth, but then…

“Yeah. If it’ll protect Y/n...let’s do it.”

……

It’s the first time you’ve heard him not refer to you as the princess, but rather, just yourself

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

OKAY WE’RE GONNA TRY AND START CRAMMING THINGS WITHOUT CRAMMING TOO MUCH BECAUSE HNNNNN I DON’T WANT THIS TO BE TOO LONG AND DRAWN OUT ಥ_ಥ

SO ON THAT NOTE

Meanwhile in a diabolical castle not too far away but still kinda far

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

We’ve got an evil firelord named Zuko over here

But he’s not really evil :(( In fact he’s not evil at all!!!

His name isn’t even Zuko it’s Minho

And he’s just kinda mean is all…

Just a smidge | |

“My Lord Zuko!!!” An attendant bows, groveling at the steps to the throne

He’s some weird guy with an eyepatch

Not important but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The Fire King growls, swirling a glass of something strong

“I told you that’s not my name,” he states, tossing the glass after a single gulp. Dang. Intense.

The attendant :((, covering his face like a scared manchild. “PLEASE FORGIVE ME YOUR GRACE!!!”

Minho rolls his eyes. “If I do, will you man up and give me the details on the Nation of (Your Kingdom Name Here)?”

“Oh, yes, yes! Thank you, sire!!!”

“...S u r e.” He blinks a few times, only sparing the slightest hint of a smile when one of the three cats wandering the kingdom jumps onto his lap. “Well? Get on with it.”

“Yes, sire, right away!” Patchy pulls out an enormously large scroll that should NOT have been able to fit in his pocket similar to the mechanics of Animal Crossing (seriously how is it you’re able to fit a giant whale into your pocket and like a freaking tarantula and a hive of wasps like idk about you sis but I would NOT be putting those things in my pocket-) “It would appear that the Princess of (Nation) has given her consent to marry His Royal Highness of the Tallest Order Fire Nation King Zu-- ...L-Lee Minho of the Tallest Order of the Nation of Fire and All Things Cat Related.”

Minho is nodding, a pleasant smirk on his face. Things were just going swimmingly for him. “Perfect. Just as I thought they would. Seungmin? Jeongin?”

From the shadows, two boys stepped forward. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Please plan my arrival to the Nation of (Your Nation) at once. I’d like to arrive no later than the end of the week.”

“...Sire, with all due respect…” Seungmin swallows. “That’s in two days. Normally, I’d have to send a carrier pigeon to customs since you banned technology after that one disapproving cat commercial, and as you know, your cats are constantly eating both the birds and the notes…”

“......”

Minho shrugs. “And? So? Just write a new note and buy more birds. There’s no time to waste!”

Seungmin and Jeongin share a look. Arguing against the King would be suicide, so…

“...Yes, Your Unreasonable Grace.”

“Grea-- wait what?”

Comically, they both vanish before any more words can be said.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Moving right along here

That night, after the sun has fully set and you’re getting ready to tuck yourself into bed

There’s a strange sound coming from the window…

. . .

Creepy but probably nothing

It’s just the wind, right?

You choose to ignore it and continue organizing the pillows (and dolls?) on your bed in a fashion that suits your fancy when

Tap Tap Tap

. . .

It’s either an incredible coincidence that wind can tap in such a rhythmic fashion, and not so sporadically, or…

There’s someone at the window

...No, really

SOMEONE IS OUTSIDE SIS

THERE’S A FREAKY LOOKIN’ SHADOW RIGHT THERE

On the twelfth floor tho?!

…

Should you answer it

Survey says no

Are you going to?

The stars say yes

BUT FIRST WE MUST ARM OURSELVES BC WE AREN’T TOTAL DUMDUMS 😩

You grab an ornate candlestick from your nightstand and start heading that way

Slowly, carefully, one foot at a time

The closer you get, the more prominent the shadow outside the window becomes…

It almost looks kinda like…

...A tumbleweed? A scarecrow???

………

You’re scared

SOMEONE COMING THIS HIGH MUST BE SKILLED AND DETERMINED AND HAS TO KNOW IT’S YOU OR MAYBE IT’S A THIEF THAT--

“Princess? Princess Y/n?”

!!!

Gasp you know that voice

It’s… …

Without a moment to lose you ditch the candlestick and unlock the hinges, tossing the windows open to…

Watch your beloved…

...Almost fall and crack his head open ._.”

Chan is laughing nervously hanging onto the windowsill with a faint pink mark on his cheek from where the window popped him

You cry out nervously and with an effort on both parts, manage to hoist him inside

Where he clichely falls on top of you 🌚🌚 Teehee 🥴

You can feel the heat rising to your face and swirling around your head that’s already been spinning with thoughts for a while now

And Chan, catching his breath over you, practically mirrors that reaction

I Am You

I see me in you--

Okay sorry

Chan laughs the whole thing off and rolls himself off like Nishinoya performing his famous Rolling Thunder, and helps you up while profusely asking if you’re alright, if you need to sit down, you should probably sit down, oh I’m so sorry Felix told me you stayed up late so--

Ah wait

“He told you that? When?”

You’re now sitting on the side of your bed, and Chan is standing a few feet away with windblown hair that could easily be mistaken for a tumbleweed through the dead of night

The fact that you’re staring at it makes him a little self conscious, but really you were just thinking about how cute he looks

“Uh, he told me a few hours ago. We were just...chatting, and um…”

……

He cuts himself off and sighs into his hands

“I’m so sorry. You probably don’t even know who I am.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“I do.” You smile. “You’re the gardener. Your name is…” You blush. “Christopher Bang. You take care of the roses at the base of the tower and you planted the purple ones on my balcony today. You’re also a friend of my brother’s.”

“Wow, okay yeah.” He smiles back. Seeing him smiling at you while acknowledging the other, the faint flicker of candlelight (Felix broke your lamp during a karate stunt to make you laugh)...it’s almost too much to handle. “That would sort of explain why you let an absolute stranger into your bedroom at night.”

………

Oop

He had a point there

Blame the author sis she’s got three other WIPs rn and wanted to get this done while doing a semi-decent job (｡•́︿•̀｡)💧

“I-I just...have a strong sense of adventure,” you lied. Kinda. Reality was, you really WERE longing for a chance to explore and have just a little excitement in your life instead of the same boring gray stone walls each and every day

Lucky for you, that’s exactly what Chan was here for

The next thing you see is his hand in your face (a still-respectable distance away), offering you quite the gentlemanly smile. He managed to fix that windblown hair of his in the seconds you spent spaced out over your longing to leave this place

“Come on. I actually came here to ask if you’d like to go somewhere with me.”

~~~

A little disclosure here

Normally, you should never, EVER let someone you don’t really know into your home (much less your bedroom) late at night, and you certainly should not agree to go somewhere with them

This is just common knowledge, I know

But, for crack, time, and in the spirit of classic fairytales, I’m going to allow it to happen :)))

~~~

AND SO, Y/n chooses to defy common sense, and takes the hand of the boy she really likes (▰˘◡˘▰)

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

To make things slightly less weird and insanely unnatural, Chan gives you a note from Felix. It’s got his secret seal of approval that he only uses when addressing letters to you, one that only the two of you know about, so it’s gotta be legit and valid

🙄🙄

Just pretend it makes things A LITTLE bit better for me, okay?

“Author do you know how illogical this all is and that, like, ANYONE could figure out--”

YEAH OKAY JUST GO WITH IT PLS 😩😩

The note says:

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒴/𝓃, 𝒴𝑒𝑒𝓉! 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃, 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒶 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 ;) 𝐼 𝒹𝒾𝒹 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓌𝑜 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇...𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉, 𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁, 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃...𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒. 𝐼𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓂, 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉? 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒. 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝓂 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒢𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓃𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝓊𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓋𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒫.𝒮. - 𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒾𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓃, 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓅 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝒴/𝓃!

𝒜𝓁𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓃, 𝓃𝑜 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝒾𝓉. 𝒴/𝓃 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑜𝓊𝒸𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓊𝓃𝓈𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝓃𝑜 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒷𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝒷𝓊𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇. 𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎, 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒. :)

-- 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝑜𝓀𝒶𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝐹𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓍 (ℱ )

...Well, there you had it

Now, onto the date! …

WAIT DID THIS COUNT AS A DATE?!

uHHHHHH

ಥ_ಥ 💧

IDK SIS JUST GO WITH IT FOR NOW, GO GO GO!

Chan is about to take your hand and wisk you out the window like Rapunzel or some Romeo and Juliet au (hey btw??? That ain’t a bad idea someone request this from me)

He nearly forgets about the height difference and the fact that he don’t have any rope or long flowing locks to grab onto to :D so instead the two of you opt for an idea that comes to you after nearly tearing your room apart to look for rope:

THE AIR VENT!!!

You have to move some furniture around but it’s not like anyone is gonna come into your room or find out about you missing anyway

Reader: “Chan came into my room tho--”

SHHHHH THAT’S DIFFERENT IT’S CALLED PLOT CONTINUATION

Now

After getting lost for approximately ten minutes in the winding air ducts, Chan manages to get his poor sleep deprived brain together and leads you down the right path, coming to a purifying viel(?) he knocks out of the way to kick the door open to outside

AND THEN

IT’S THE MOST GLORIOUS AND MAGICAL THING

IT’S

（つ﹏╰）

SIS IT’S OUTSIDE

IT’S THE OUTSIDE WORLD

YOU DID IT--

……

You can’t do it

Chan jumps out easily onto the grass to some East side of the palace, but you just sit there, hunkered down in the opening space of the vent

Just staring at it

The grass

The trees

The tumbleweed that is Chan’s hair blow by

It’s almost too much…

Your body won’t move. You’ve been locked away in the palace for so long now...something inside of you is telling you it’s morally wrong to change that now.

“Hey wait author I have a question”

I’m kinda in the middle of telling a semi-deep part of the story but okay sure

“If Chan and I were on the twelfth floor how is it that we made it to the--”

SHHHHH AGAIN JUST HUMOR ME AND DON’T OVERTHINK THINGS

Chan is watching you with some sort of softness in his eyes illuminated by starlight. He holds his hands out to you.

“It’s okay. If you need me to, I can carry you for as long as I’m able.”

…

But you refuse

You need to cross this bridge

And then you need to burn it 🔥

NO GOING BACK SIS

NO GOING BACK 😤😤

...Except you’re always open for an excuse to be close to Chan so 🤪💓

You jump in his arms without much of a second thought, and without thinking he spins you around, and a moment later

Both of your slippered feet hit the ground below

Soft earth enveloping your heels

Blades of grass tickling your skin

It’s so WEIRD BUT

It’s a good kind of weird

A kind of weird you’d love to get used to

Hand in hand the two of you slip off after that, out into that starry starry night that looks like a Van Gogh painting

It’s beautiful and blurred yet sharp and soft yet bright and you feel like queen of the world as you’re running through Central Park, riding on Chan’s shoulders

Dancing around the center fountain

Nearly blowing your cover when a racoon runs by

It’d be kinda bad if someone saw you, much less recognized who you were 😅

The two of you lay on the hillside, where Chan makes up stories about the stars and you smile at the sound of his voice, and the feeling of wildflowers against your cheek

You’re so enthralled that you scarcely notice when his voice trails off as he’s watching you, admiring your beauty as he often has in days gone by, only this time it’s up close and nearly surreal

The girl of his dreams lying in a bed of flowers

Not palace-tainted ones either -> wildflowers, flowers that are free to billow any way the wind takes them

And the moonlight casting perfectly angular shadows over your body

He has to get a hold of himself and tear himself away with a sharp breath

……

But he’s adding the image to a memory in his heart, that’s for sure

He takes a moment to mull over it a few more times before dusting himself off, standing, and reaching out to you. Something you also want to get used to other than being in the Great Outdoors. “Come on,” he says, “We’ve almost used up all our time, and I haven’t even been able to show you the town yet.”

SHOPPING~! (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

...Ah wait it was night time 😔 You’d have to settle for just seeing the sights and playing pretend

“We’re gonna do something called window shopping.”

“Window shopping?” You ask, taking your first steps down main street. “What’s that?”

Surprisingly, there were a few stragglers still out and about at this hour, so you had to keep your head down and wander as seamlessly as possible off to the side of the road.

“Window shopping is when you wander around a shopping district just to look at the stuff on display. You shop with your eyes and pick out things you like.”

That sounded kinda fun

Of course anything with Chan sounded like a good time to you (♥‿♥)

And so, still hand in hand, the two of you quietly walked the cobblestone streets, examining clothes and trinkets in the large glass windows of stores and commenting lightly on things you liked/disliked

And, over a short span of time, you felt a gentle shift as Chan entwined his fingers with yours

ƪ(˘⌣˘)┐ ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ ┌(˘⌣˘)ʃ

You wander the streets for a while longer, taking a left here, a right there, when after pacing a little ways down a side street connecting to a sleepy neighborhood, Chan stops quite abruptly

His arms and posture is rigid af, so it almost yanks you back a bit, and a little startled you look up to see what it is he’s gawking at

…

It’s a flower shop

And the big sign across the roof’s edge says, “Christopher’s Garden”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

Christopher’s Garden was the name Chan’s parents had wanted to name the flower shop the two of them had dreamed of opening together

Chan knows this because of the letters he’d receive at the orphanage during the war

The last letter he received was when he was eleven years old; a simple “hello we miss you” update with a miniature bouquet of pressed wildflowers

Flowers he still kept in his small room at the palace, tapped to the inside of the box where all his letters are stored

Faintly, he reaches out towards the sign, like it’s the only thing around him; suddenly there is no village, no night time, and there almost isn’t a Y/n either

Not that you aren’t important…

He just simply can’t believe that…

…

This couldn’t be real, it had to be a coincidence

A cruel one, but still

A coincidence nonetheless

And he’d continue to think that had he not lowered his hand, and found the face of an older man staring back at him

A man with burn marks on his cheeks and the scars of war apparent in both his features and his eyes

He has to grip the doorway to keep himself from falling backward

For it may have been many years, but he could never forget the face of his own son; not even after time had aged him

The parental spark was just there, a father’s intuition

……

As if seeming to understand, Y/n lets him go

She retreats stage left, one, two paces

And watches with heartfelt joy as the two men embrace somberly beneath the moonlight.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You wanted to stay and watch

You really really did

You wanted to be that support beam for Chan, but

In a way, you also didn’t want to intrude on such an important family moment

...And you were more or less due back at midnight 🙄 Cinderella much?

You’re racing along the alleyways right now

Slippers puffing a muffled breath with each step along the pavement

Buildings casting shadows and jagged shapes of light along the way

A random cloth you borrowed from behind a grocery masking your head

You found it lying over some crates of produce; and you may or may not have borrowed a few plums for the road, too…

...You’d have someone pay them back with interest 🤷

You probably should have told Chan you were heading back, but

He needed his family, right?

This was really important to him, you could tell he obviously hadn’t seen his dad, uncle, or whoever that man was back there in a while

You could catch him up later, right?

He’d probably spend the night there and be back by morning or mid-afternoon

You’re just now reaching a fork in the road

You could keep going straight or make a slanted right venturing toward the front gate, which connects the pastures of hills (making up Central Park) to the palace

……

It would probably be better to stick the backways, but you didn’t know the area that well…

If you went back into civilization, although it was after curfew and despite your disguise, someone may still spot you

What to do what to do what to--

“So you’re the Princess of (Kingdom Name).”

!!!

Did

Did someone just--

ARE THEY TALKING TO YOU?!?

RUN?!

DO WE RUN ...

“You don’t have to be frightened.” the voice says, stepping closer. “I’m here to take you home.”

……...

🚩🚩🚩

:))))))))

Yes okay now we RUN 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

You make a break for it down the straight path, letting your veil fly away from your body and temporarily blind whoever’s following you

You also make good use of those plums you stole, tossing them like bombs over your shoulder

“Argh--! Dang it, sh*t, I can’t sEE--” Your pursuers flail about before shredding the cloth to bits, whipping the fruit off their faces. “AFTER HER!!!”

!!!!!!

DID HE JUST SAY--?!

HHHHHHHHHHHH

The sound of heavy metal clanging against cobblestone bounces off the space behind you as you’re pounding, scrambling, flinging yourself in a zigzag pattern in case someone is trying to snipe you

IT’S WHAT ALL THE RIDICULOUS HEROES IN MOVIES DO, OKAY?!

IT’S MORE OR LESS EFFECTIVE

But alas there are so many boxes and wheelbarrows and junk in the way...

MOVE FASTER YOU CAN HEAR THEM GAINING ON YOU

But wait who even is “them” anyway???

Do you even need to know?! It was probably some councilman your stepmother or father pissed off

You’d seen it all on TV and read plenty of horror stories in books to know there were endless reasons why someone would be targeting you for vengeance

...And, also…

……

Blast it all

You could hear your father’s voice echoing:

“NO BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE SEEN BILLOWING ABOUT THE CITY STREETS!!! That’s like asking to be kidnapped and used as a means of war!!!”

“A means of war!!!”

…………………………………...g u l p

ಥ_ಥ

YOU JUST WANTED TO HAVE A GOOD TIME OKAY

THAT’S ALL

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN 😩😩

HE SHOULD TRY SITTING ON HIS ASS DAY IN AND DAY OUT IT’S MIND-NUMBINGLY BORING 🔥🔥🔥

But boy were you getting your fill of excitement now

If you could just make it back to the palace, maybe you could use this as an excuse

Say you were kidnapped and made a grand escape

...It wasn’t a TOTAL lie…

“Oh Princess~ Princess Y/n, slow down, won’t you please?!”

LIBSDIBVISAFBILSFIL

NOT ON YOUR LIFE BUDDY 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️💨

WE AIN’T ABOUT TO DIE

GOTTA

HURRYYYYYYY

~ t r i p ! ~

Oh-- ...

THUD

Owowowowow… (｡>︿<｡)💧

………………

……………………………

ಠ_ಠ

You slowly look up to the enemy

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ❤️ “Guess who? ...Oh, wait, we’ve never met before.”

………………..

Crap.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

The plan was going to be very simple: swoop in, rescue the princess, and take her back home to appease to the King and speed up the royal wedding of the century

Unfortunately, nothing was ever simple in the Fire Nation

That and, well, Minho had spies everywhere

He’d seen your photograph

He knew what you looked like

And when one of his minion’s squeaked saying they spotted a certain soon-to-be-and-technically-already-so engaged princess and coming-soon queen of the Fire Nation running around after hours with another man, well

He just couldn’t have that

It simply wasn’t allowed

The king had promised him your hand

And that’s exactly what he was going to get

“Tie her wrists tighter. Yes. Now a little closer to the left…”

He smiles at you from inside the back of the carriage. He was about to make this go his way faster than he could have hoped for.

He leans forward, now dressed in some ridiculous royal garb festive with plated armor and flapping ribbons, patting your knee with smooth-lined fingers that shouldn’t belong to someone ruling the Fire Nation. And he knows this, too. He was and still is the youngest king to ever hold the throne. “Don’t worry, Princess, I simply wish to escort you home. This is, however, a pleasant time for us to get acquainted. Since I will become your husband in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

To this, the Princess of (Your Castle) makes some sort of a scoffing remark beneath her cloth-covered mouth and fidgets herself away, as far back against the plush carriage interior as she can. Even beneath the pale moonlight and faint swaying torchlight outside, bobbing in the hands of soldiers, he can see the scowl of disapproval and hatred on her face.

That would have to change real’ fast. No way he was tolerating a disobedient bride for long.

A rapping comes from outside the window. Carefully, Minho opens the small glass door, pulling the curtain aside along with it. “What is it?”

Seungmin’s face appears in the open space. “We may have a problem. Two, actually.”

“Yes, yes, what are they?”

His first attendant licks his lips nervously. “Well for starters, Jeongin is going to have a mental breakdown if Doongi scratches his face one more time. Your pets--”

“My family.”

“...Your family is getting antsy being cooped up in the carriage for so long.”

A hissing can be heard in the distance, followed by Jeongin’s muffled scream. Minho sighs.

“Fine, Fine…” He glances tentatively at his soon-to-be bride. “We’ll stop at the next fork in the road and switch passengers. I will ride with the children and Jeongin can accompany Princess Y/n until we arrive.”

“Very good, Your Majesty.”

Minho makes a face, suddenly. “...It shouldn’t be long now, yes?” ((After all, you and Chan did WALK into town.)) “What’s taking so long? How much farther?”

Seungmin looks a bit grave. “...That’s...the other thing I wished to speak to you about.”

“???”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

You can hear the shouting from your new location inside a smaller (yet still quite plush and fancy) carriage that’s covered in cat fur...and a pitiful attendant with a bloodied face

“So we’ve been traveling in circles this whole TIME?!?!”

Oof

That kind of anger didn’t bode well for whoever’s plan this was

“Ahh…we’re so sorry, Your Majesty! But the guard won’t let us through! They refused to take us seriously when we proclaimed to be the Fire Nation escorting the Princess home…”

The Fire King let out a groan.

You zoom your attention on the boy before you, holding a dampened cloth of alcohol to his face and hissing as it makes contact with several wounds. Poor guy is young, and he couldn’t be too much younger than you. Give or take three to four years.

“M-mm-m, mm mm-mm mm m.”

He looks at you like you’re speaking in tongues. Which, quite frankly, you may as well be. “...What?”

“Mm mmm, m-mm-m, mm mm-mm mm m!”

“.........”

Peering left and then right, he makes sure both curtains are closed before leaning forward and pulling down the cloth over your face. You cough a bit, spitting out pieces of string and fabric and the dry taste in your mouth. “...”

“......” Jeongin seems to be admiring you in a new sort of light. It’s a bit weird, but flattering. “Um, what was it that you tried to say?”

You look him dead in the eye, which is somewhat hard to do, but your anger helps you manage. Jeongin winces backward, something twitching in his mind. “I said, if I were you, I would blow this joint.”

“.........” Jeongin glances down at his shoes, staring hard at the laces. He seems to be taking your words quite seriously, though you’d half meant them as a joke. “...I’m in no position to do such a thing. Just thinking about it is treason.”

“Treason? For having thoughts? You don’t have any mind readers in your country, do you?”

Slowly, he shakes his head no. It was kinda cute how seriously he was taking your words...and a bit sad, too. “No, we don’t dwell in psychics or anything supernatural. But the author of this story has been kinda thinking about making a supernatural au for some time now--”

“Huh?”

“Hmm?”

“.........”

A rapping comes at the carriage door. Jeongin acknowledges it with a nod. “...Never mind.” He opens the window. There, again, was Seungmin’s floating head alongside a ball of fire.

“His Majesty Pain-in-the-Ass is being difficult again. Imagine that. He wants us to make camp and then plans on playing the martyr card come tomorrow morning.”

“...He expects us to camp out in the woods?”

“That’s the order.”

Jeongin groans. He leans back in his seat, tossing the rag down in frustration. “...Maybe I really should consider running away…are you hiring, by chance?”

It was meant to be a joke. But you take it all too seriously.

“Why, yes, actually, I am.” :))))))))))

“....................”

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

And so that is how you have now ended up here

In front of a roaring fire

All comfy cozy in the new fleece pajamas Jeongin and Seungmin sewed for you out of one of Minho’s extra capes and some “spare” fabrics

Sipping some freshly pressed apple juice and flipping through King Minho’s edition of Royalty Daily

Seungmin, to your left, is fashioning you a new pair of slippers that you can wear both indoors and out and will feel as if you never stepped out of bed

And Jeongin, to your right, slowly moving an electric fan around your face, in a pleasant manner that wasn’t at all distracting

It was glorious, really ٩(˘◡˘)۶

You never imagined being so relaxed in an enemy camp held hostage, even if you were a Princess…

...The only thing sour was the sour look of King Minho brooding at the other side of the fire.

“What is the meaning of this?” he hisses, eyes flitting back and forth between his two former attendants and you in-between. “Why aren’t the two of you doing your normal duties?”

“We are doing our normal duties,” Seungmin explains, snipping the thread he was working with.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Are you defying me right now?!”

Minnie scoffs. “Defying? You? Wouldn’t dream of it, Sire.”

“......” Minho dramatically rose from his seat, snatching a slipper off the boy’s lap. “Then what is the meaning of this,” he demands, shaking it about. You notice from a new angle of lighting the cute white polka dots patterned along dark pink fabric. Adorable. “Why are you...restyling my slippers?!”

Seungmin gives a reputable glare, snatching the slipper right back in the sassiest way possible, and dusts it carefully, as if it were tainted by the mere touch of another. “These are not for you, dear King. They are for My Lady, Princess Y/n.”

O-O

Now surely you can imagine, the look on Minho’s face is not a good one. “They’re… They… Y-Your whAT?!?!”

“SHHHHHHH!!!” Jeongin chimes. “Lord Zuko, you must keep your voice down! The Princess is trying to read, and she has sensitive hearing!” >:((

“.........”

(✿︶‿︶)

*Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp*

You sip that apple juice like it’s the sweetest tonic out there

And Minho, stunned, can only watch...until he throws down his foot and starts having an unroyaly absurd hissy fit

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUR PRINCESS?! SHE’S MY BRIDE, AND THE HOSTAGE!!! And what do you think the two of you are doing?! What are you saying?!? Have you...are you telling me you switched sides?!?!”

“Well…”

“We aren’t telling you, we were hoping you’d get the memo by watching.”

!? “ARRRGH!!!”

._____.

The three of you watch with second-hand embarrassment, along with a couple of nearby guards, until

The King has to pause mid-fit

For a rustling in the bushes pulls his attention aside-- along with the others.

Minho seems to gain his composure surprisingly quickly. With serious glint in his eyes, he pulls his sword, in unison with the surrounding army he’d brought.

Behind you, Jeongin respectfully pulls you close, Seungmin brandishing his own blade and standing protectively before you.

You’re confused, almost, at how high the tension had magically become

You can feel Jeongin’s heartbeat against you back, and the silence amid the rustle is deafening

A single bead of sweat rolls down your neck…

And then evaporates when a field mouse screeches at the glinting of sharp metal objects and flees. 🗿💧

“Oh...false alarm…” the Fire King sighs. His army groans, reupholstering their swords and spears

And then jump in surprise at the ambush that comes after

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

I know we’re 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ flying through this story kinda fast now but just hang tight

Cause a few familiar faces had come to save the day B))

Familiar faces known as Sir Changbin, Newly-awarded Knight Jisung, and brother who loved you a little too much, Felix

The way your brother’s sword clashed with Minho’s as your new attendants hurried you into the awaiting cart was a sight to behold

And you could still hear the screams of startled men even now :(((

Luckily Felix held a philosophy unlike your father to not cause any permanent damage at all costs, so no casualties occurred; just a lot of smoke-bombing and a few cuts and bruises

Then there was Jisung, who had to hang on to the roof bc he went flying during the ambush and landed in a tree and there just wasn’t enough time to get him inside so Changbin had to snap a branch and let him fall on top...but

You know

No casualties :))))

“Are you okay?!?!” Felix is demanding, checking you face, your neck, your hands. You sigh and shake your head, which at first he takes as a no and has a small panic attack but you give him a little shove followed by a hug

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I was gone for so long...but thank you for saving me.” <3

Felix hugs you back, though a grim look resides on his face. “I’m gonna have a serious talk with Chan. I can’t believe he just left you out in the city-- or the forest-- to find your own way home in the dead of night when you’ve scarcely left the palace before!”

!!!

You jump back, startling him a bit. “Chan didn’t leave me! Please...don’t be mad at him.”

“Wha?” He lists his head. “Then what happened?”

“......” Oops. “I...I left him. I thought I could make it back on my own.”

His arms cross. “And what the heck made you think that?”

>:((((((((

At this, you almost felt a sense of defiance. Almost.

Felix didn’t think you could make it on your own?! You?!? A twenty-something year old young woman?!?!?

...Well he was right because you had absolutely no sense of direction except where the shampoo was in your royal bathroom 😔

BUT HE DIDN’T HAVE TO RUB IT IN Y’KNOW?!?!

“I--!”

“You? Yes?”

“......”

“......” Sigh. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you...but first you have to let my friends go.”

The screen pans over to Seungmin and Jeongin, tied back to back with apples shoved in their mouths. Seungmin stared a hole into Felix’s head while Jeongin was actually making some decent progress getting a bite out of the apple to free himself...until some juice went down the wrong pipe and he started choking.

“RhUK--!!!”

“Your friends?” The prince huffs. “These are the Fire Lord’s attendants. I’ve met them on two occasions in the past. Trust me, they aren’t your...friends.”

You stamp your foot, to which everyone comically flinched. Outside, Han howled at the branches slapping him in the face and the dust in his eyes. “They work for me now, and they’re my friends!!! 😤😤 So let them go right now or I’ll push them out and roll out of here right beside them!”

“!!!”

Felix couldn’t have this, so

He gets to untying, and once freed, the four of you sit on the empty cart floor: you and your attendants on one side, Felix on the other. He exchanges a few words with Changbin up front and Han still on the roof before settling down for your story

“We should be arriving to the west gates shortly. Also, Han is fine, so don’t worry about him. Tell me everything that happened.”

You do. You start from the beginning, with Chan, and the wonderful time the two of you shared. Then you tell him about the village, and how lovely window shopping was, and the moment that all came to a halt. You explain Christopher’s Garden, the aging man who sleepily walked out the front door, the exchange that occurred between him and Chan...the way they embraced. You’d felt so happy but out of place, you decided to venture off and give them the privacy they very much deserved.

Then you come around to Minho. How you’d tried to run, but only made it so far thanks to your new mortal enemy, rocks. You’d become a hostage, and you quickly rush through the rival king’s evil(?) plan to lie his way to victory.

And, of course, you mention the proud and wise decision of his most loyal and trusted adversaries switching sides and how good you are at making friends (ღ˘⌣˘)♥ so that happened

By the time you get through the whole (short? Not really) story, the six of you have arrived at (Castle’s) West Gate.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

M E A N W H I L E

In the past tense bc the author’s random switching is a meme

A certain evil(?) king named Minho was angry

You can understand, right?

I mean, his future bride had escaped, his former friends(?) betrayed him, and he got his ass beat pretty flawlessly by some punk prince who didn’t even injure him that badly...ON PURPOSE

This was a DISASTER

A TOTAL NIGHTMARE

😭😭😭

SCREW THIS HE WAS GOING TO BE VICTORIOUS WITH CHAMPAGNE POURING OVER US AND ALL HIS FRIENDS AND HE WOULD BE GLORIOUS NO MATTER WHAT

In fact, he was following the trail with a few uninjured guards as he spoke

“Keep following the tracks,” he demanded from the window of his carriage. Doongi, Soongi, and Dori all meowed in agreement. “I want those fools hand-tied and the princess back in her station before the sun rises. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, Sir!!!” They all cried. Minho scoffed, closing the window and falling back exhaustively in his seat

He messaged his temples...since Jeongin wasn’t there to do it for him

How did this happen?

How could he lose?

How could he let you and the others just escape like that...and fall for such a subtle, dumb trick?

Also…...there was the matter of his childish behavior from before

In front of the princess, his future wife

His friends

His army

……

That really hadn’t been like him at all

He just...was so stressed lately

And exhausted

Did he mention exhausted?

What time was it, like, 1 am???

That might be fine for you, but normally this king had his ass under covers by 11 pm

He could scarcely keep his eyes open were it not for all the rocks and potholes and--

…

And the curious young man that just stumbled out into the road.

Minho leaned forward, staring through the open front window, squinting in the darkness to make out a face; was that one of the boys? Was that Seungmin, or Jeongin perhaps?

It certainly didn’t sound like it-- the sap was calling out a name, and seemed to be dressed in tattered old clothes. Probably a peasant looking for his lost sheep or dog.

But then his men pulled the carriage closer, since that previous battle had spooked all the horses away, and Minho was able to make out a name: “Y/n!!! Princess, say, “here I am!!!””

…………

(͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Gottem.

~ꕥꕥꕥ~

To be continued...maybe.

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

245 notes · View notes

starkerdestroyedmylifee · 4 years

Text

Thief

Peter tries not to feel the weight of his backpack as he makes his way up from the lab. He really does. But, it’s heavy.

‘Well, of course it is.’

Peter curses himself, popping up each step and hoping- praying- he doesn’t bump into anyone on the way. It’s still heavy, though. Even with his super-strength; heavy, and metal, and not his, because he really, really shouldn’t have it.

At all.

When the day had begun, Peter’d played the part of ‘devastated mentee’ to a T. His eyes had been puffy, exiting his aunt May’s car, rubbing his runny nose on the cuff of his suit.

No, not his suit.

Some store-bought thrift that didn’t quite fit his shoulders. A black jacket with fabrics frayed at the base, and dress-pants not quite long enough. Pepper had offered paying to get something tailored, but Peter’d declined quickly. It didn’t feel right, taking money from Mr. Stark’s fortune, even beyond the grave. They hadn’t known each other well enough. Which is odd, considering he’s currently attending said man’s funeral.

Peter tries not to linger on the fact that he’s technically (Technically meaning actually) stealing from Mr. Stark, and instead makes his way through the crowded living room. The majority of guests seem to be winding down now, what with Tony’s eulogy all said and done. Only soft, meditated tones, and consoling hands on shoulders, and Ms. Pepper Potts- smiling politely, but dead on her feet- striking up some conversation about sewage. He meets her gaze, and the weight of his backpack is bone-breaking.

She doesn’t walk over to him, thankfully. Of course, he’s just another kid wrapped up in her late husband’s antics. The invitation sent their way had been courteous at best, but worded as something that was supposed to happen, despite being a bit inappropriate. Peter’s a stranger, after all. And, what happens when you invite strangers into your house?

They steal your stuff.

Still, Ms. Potts nods his way. Soft; disinterested. Her gaze quickly slides over him, onto another guest far more deserving of her attention. Despite this, Peter’s back goes rigid for the few seconds spent on him. He holds his breath- freezes- before letting it out in relief.

‘This is horrible.’ Peter thinks to himself. ‘I’m literally going to hell for this.’

It doesn’t matter at this point. Not with his mind fogged in an overwhelming cloud of grief, or his eyes still stinging from such a heavy cry, or his throat burning from yet another wave of anguish. ‘No,’ he decides, tapping his aunt’s shoulder. ‘It doesn’t even matter at this point.’

He feigns a stomach ache, by which May thinks he’s playing sick to escape the depressing atmosphere of his idol’s funeral, and drives him home before Happy can so much as woo her to stay at his place.

Up the stairs.

Through the hallway.

Into his bedroom.

He shuts the door. Crumbles to pieces. Because-. Because, he finally starts realizing what he’s just done.

‘Oh, god. Oh god, this is so much worse than I thought it would be. This is- This is literally the worst idea I’ve ever had. Stupid, stupid, stupid!’

Peter can’t help his hands from shaking as he lifts the metal helmet out of his bag. It’s cold against his skin, which only makes his mouth go dry. Mr. Stark used to wear this. He used to wear this, and it’d been cold. Heavy and cold.

“...I really fucked up.” He says out loud, which only seems to solidify it.

Well, he can’t take it back now. Not if Pepper ends up noticing that it is gone. A monument. A goddamn trophy of Mr. Stark’s. One of his earliest models, with the classic red spray and golden faceplate. Christ, if he’d wanted it so badly, why didn’t he just buy a replica?

Because it wasn’t the same.

It isn’t the same.

But, damn it all, it’s also not his.

Peter had just wanted something to remember Mr. Stark by, and-. God, that helmet had called to him like a siren.

‘Mr. Stark would want you to have it.’ His brain had supplied.

Which-.

Uh.

No.

No, he would not want a literal child hanging onto his legacy like a fucking baseball card, instead of in a museum, or some well-maintained pedestal, or in a safe to be preserved for the next thousand years. Tony had been over the top like that. He liked to think his work was worth something. It was meant to adore.

The thought of Peter one day throwing it on top of his dirty laundry made him want to cry.

“Oh, god. Oh- Oh, shit. Okay, Peter. This is-. Oh, shit.” He tosses Mr. Stark’s helmet on the bed, and really does almost cry. A High-Tec, revolutionary piece of hardware, worn by Earth’s savior had just been thrown on his rumpled bedsheets, and goddamn fucking shit Peter is definitely- definitely- about to have a panic attack. He throws his arms up.

“That’s it.” Peter rambles sharply. “I’m screwed. I am so screwed, because I-. Oh my god, is it chipped? Of course it’s fucking chipped, Peter. It-. It’s Tony’s. Of course. Oh my god, I’m going to jail.” He peeks out the window, half-expecting to see cop cars at the entrance of his apartment complex. “Why did I do this?”

That’s the big question. Up until this point, Mr. Stark had only ever been an idol. Then a mentor. Then a father figure.

And, then-.

Okay, no. Peter is not going there. He paces around his room, onto his walls, the ceiling, hanging off his fingertips before plopping back onto his bare feet. He sighs, cursing, before making his inevitable journey back to the helmet.

Picking it up, his senses note a slight rise in temperature. It’s still cold, obviously. His room is well-heated though, unlike the lifeless cellar they’d had it cooped up in just hours before. Which makes Peter feel a little better about things- he smiles, tilting it this way and that. ‘Ha! A real home.’- before noticing a patch of crumbs on the helmet’s jaw from when he’d eaten Cheetos on the bed, wiped his fingers against the sheets, and seamlessly forgotten to throw them in the wash.

Peter almost faints.

Luckily, they’re easily wiped away by some bed-side tissues (Peter tries not to remember what he uses said tissues for. He’s already mortified by his poor treatment of it.) He sits on the bed with a huff, settling Mr. Stark’s tech in his lap like a pet. Peter runs his fingers over it apologetically, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing feels like enough. He sighs, lowering his head.

“I bet you think this is pretty funny, huh?” Peter supplies, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, it’s not… It’s a little funny, but only because I know you’d probably have some quippy one-liner set up for me.” He falls onto his back, bringing the helmet to rest against his chest. Breathing out through his nose, he raises the metal mask just above him, so he can stare up at it. His bedroom light catches the surface of gleaming red, and Peter feels like a dirty slob just touching this rare treasure.

“Something like…” He pauses, thinking for a moment. “‘Oh, Peter. Looks like you’re a head of the game…’ That was really bad.” He chews his lip. “‘Sorry, kid. I want you to fill my shoes. This is a little much.’ God, no. That doesn’t sound like Mr. Stark at all.” Peter turns onto his side, letting the helmet lay against his pillow. They stare intimately at each other. ‘They’ being Peter and a lifeless curve of metal. He pulls the mask a bit closer.

“‘Woah there, Spiderman. At least buy dinner before you take it to bed.’” Peter turns his face into his pillow, groaning pitifully.

“Why are helmet jokes so hard?” He pauses, mulling his complaint over. “Okay, that one wasn’t bad.” Like that, Peter angles his face to check on the helmet, and looks to see its reaction. Which creeps him out, of course. Alright, so maybe there are even more implications to stealing his idol’s helmet then the fact he stole it. Maybe it’s just bad to have an inanimate object symbolic of Mr. Stark around him.

‘No shit.’ Peter thinks to himself, drawing a hand down his face.

Still…

He places a finger along the metal mask’s faceplate; feels the cool of its surface, the crisp curve of each indent. It’s nice. Really, really nice. Which is exactly why he has to pull away and face the wall of his room.

‘Nope. No chance. Time out, Peter.’

He closes his eyes, counting back from one hundred. He does it seven times. Eight. It doesn’t matter. Peter turns around to face it again, and does exactly what he’d been doing before. His fingers map out the metal slabs, just imagining what it must’ve been like inside.

‘It probably smells like him.’ Peter’s brain coos.

‘What? Like booze, and sweat, and morning breath? Is that what you’re tempting me with?’

‘Yes.’

It doesn’t smell like Mr. Stark, for the record. It smells sterile and lifeless and unworn, like someone went and purged it of everything Tony. Which, Peter assures himself, is completely, totally fine. It doesn’t bother him a bit.

Not one bit.

Not when he slips a hand inside and feels the strange padding used to cradle Mr. Stark’s head. Or when he pulls it out, not devastated to find the man hadn’t shed any hair. Nope. Not even a little. Because that would be weird, and a little obsessive. A lot obsessive. It’s not like Peter could clone Mr. Stark if he had any kind of DNA. It’s not like Peter wants to.

He checks his alarm clock, the same one still ticking five years after the blip; 10:47.

Not crazy late. On the contrary, it’d be amazingly early for the hyper-active teen to turn in just yet. That’s what he tells himself as he reaches over his night stand, tugging the string of his lamp light. The room goes dark and Peter tries (Read: fails miserably) to fall asleep. Looking his crime in the face anymore than he already has to is punishment enough, at least for today.

He tries to ease his muscles, but they just won’t let up. There’s a weight in his bed that he’s not used to, and it sets all his human nerves on edge, even with his Spidey-senses dormant. Peter should put it in the closet, but he can’t bear the image of allowing it to collect dust. On the contrary, the thought leaves him choked and wanting a glass of water he doesn’t have the energy to grab. The idea of mistreating anything Tony Stark-related has the young vigilante in shambles.

Which is why he soon finds himself rotating around to face the helmet in his bed. Even through darkness, he can make out a sharp outline of lunar beams streaming in through the window. It’s soothing. It’s reprimanding. Peter sniffs, blinking away what feels like an ocean of tears.

“I’m sorry…?” He offers shyly. His tone breaks, shoulders bunched, brow pinched with a grimace only offset by the flush of his cheeks. ‘At least here,’ Peter thinks to himself, ‘I can get some kind of closure.’

Which is exactly what leads him to kiss the metal armor.

Soft, across where he’s sure Tony’s lips would be located. It’s quick. Innocent, really. If things weren’t so different in the 21st century, people might mistake it for a platonic peck. Because Tony- brave, wise Tony- was like a father to him, in the only way he understood a father could be. It’d been so tender, after all. With those sweet, thin fingers caressing, not pulling, and palms that cradled, not smooshed. Nothing demanding. Nothing sexual. Just a good ol’ fashion kiss, which lasts no more than a few seconds.

Peter promises himself it isn’t anything else. It’s a platonic kiss on the lips. Which is a thing. It is, but other people might make it out to be something more. Someone like MJ would probably cackle her ass off if she knew he’d given the mask a kiss, as short as it is.

The few that follow after are a bit longer.

By the time Peter finishes, he’s relaxed in the worst way possible. He feels groggy, worn at the lips, and shitty as all hell because that last kiss had definitely been excessive.

And, okay.

Peter has a massive crush on Mr. Stark.

It’s terribly obvious. And tragic as shit, since the man is dead. Despite reminding himself, he can’t help but cling onto that damn feeling of metal on chapped, teenage lips. He feels sleepy, and he suddenly doesn’t want to be. It feels immensely inappropriate falling asleep next to a helmet he smooched to pieces.

Like sleeping next to Tony in Peter’s perverse, miserable fantasies.

Where Ms. Potts is away on business, and Mr. Stark is oh-so alone, and oh-so desperate for some kind of bodily touch. Where Peter is his sexy young intern, who has the confidence to wear feminine lingerie under his work clothes, and doesn’t mind brushing hips. They could make hot, passionate love in the lab for all he cares, and Mr. Stark would call him Baby, and Peter would call him Daddy, and it would hardly be funny to say in the moment, though he might snort when thinking over it later.

Best of all, Tony likes Peter best in his fantasies.

Parker is his favorite.

It’s only ever fantasy, though. Peter knows better than to indulge it.

In a conflicting fit between putting the helmet away, or pulling a sheet over top, or entertaining the notion of sneaking it back in place before anyone notices it’s gone, Peter decides to give the mask his bed while he sleeps on the floor. He’d much rather give Mr. Stark his best than chance disrespecting the man’s memory in favor of comfort. He obviously can’t be trusted, getting too close to Tony-related objects.

Laying on his bedroom floor twiddling his thumbs, Peter can’t help but wonder: What has my life come to?

#Starker #Peter x Tony #Tony/Peter #Fic #I don't know anymore guys #I miiiiight continue this??#Or maybe I'll just leave the babe to suffer

44 notes · View notes

p4perthoughts · 4 years

Text

Young Justice Universe

Dick Grayson x Barbara Gordon

I have a theory that Dick and Barbara totally got together in the middle of season 2 (as opposed to the time jump between S2 and S3) and nobody can convince me otherwise

Events take place after Young Justice S2 E9: Darkest

Dick was definitely not feeling the aster.

He was exhausted, much like anyone would be after nearly being blown up. As he walked along he kept replaying the sound of the explosion over and over again in his head. He clutched the flash drive Kaldur had passed to him right before they lost Mount Justice. He could have put it in his bag along with his Nightwing suit for safe keeping, but he couldn’t let go of it. He needed to feel it in his hand to keep telling himself it was worth it. Losing the cave. Almost losing his life. Continuing to lie to everyone else was worth it. It had to be.

As he rounded the corner, he paused and found himself holding his breath. She was there. Of course she was there. Barbara Gordon was sitting on the steps of his apartment building. She hadn’t looked up and seen him yet so his instincts told him to turn around and run. He’d grown distant from his best friend since this whole thing started. Dick was able to lie to the entire team, even the League, all this time because the fate of the world depended on the success of this plan. But he knew that if he looked Babs in the eyes, he wouldn’t be able to do it.

He chose to keep walking forward. Before he could say anything Barbara got up and hugged him. Her touch was a warmth he hadn’t felt in a while. He definitely missed her.

“Are you okay?” She said as she stepped back.

For a second Dick had forgotten what had just happened and that Mount Justice was gone. Reality set back in like a cold punch in the face.

“Yeah yeah. Everyone’s pretty shaken up, but we all made it out...except for those that were taken.” He said while avoiding meeting her eyes.

“Tim said that explosive took out the entire place.” She said in a way that sounded like a question.

So he nodded. But then when he looked back at her, her concerned expression turned into sadness for a brief moment. Dick forgot that Mount Justice had become a second home to Babs too when she joined the team.

They stood there for a minute before Barbara broke the silence.

“What’s actually wrong?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dick said as he headed into the building.

Babs grabbed her gym bag from the steps and followed behind him, “yes you do.”

“I’m your best friend, Dick. I know when somethings wrong.” She said as he pressed the elevator button.

Dick stepped into the elevator and she invited herself in behind him. He chose to not address it so he tried to change the subject.

“What’s in the bag?” He said.

“What’s in your bag?”

“I asked you first.” He retorted without skipping a beat. He missed their banter.

She sighed sarcastically and unzipped her gym bag a little as it still hung on her shoulder. Right, dumb question. He saw the bat symbol on her suit’s chest plate and her cowl. It was past midnight so figures she was out patrolling. That’s two points in her column now cause this is further proof to her he was off his game. He could feel her eyes look up at him, so he knew he was right.

As he pulled out his keys and began opening his door he remembered the flash drive in his left hand. The events of the evening all rolled back to hit him like a tsunami. The harsh words from Wally echoed in his ears. It was worth it he told himself.

When they got inside Barbara made herself at home -as usual when she comes over. She laid down her stuff and headed to the kitchen. Dick put the flash drive on his dresser before heading for the couch. He fell into the cushions with the weight of the universe on him and put his head in his hands.

He felt Babs come back. She sat next to him and comfortably put her legs in his lap. She had opened a bag of chips and offered him some. They sat there together for a while in silence. Just two friends, eating chips, comfortably in each other’s company. Maybe it’s because Barbara knew him longer than almost anyone. She knew everything about him. She knew who he was, both as Dick Grayson and Nightwing -Robin before that. She was everything to him from his first kiss to his best partner out in the field.

Finally Barbara put the bag on the coffee table in front of them and she scooted closer to him. He put his arm on her knees.

“Talk to me, Grayson.” She said.

Dick finally brought himself to look at her. He looked at her and saw her deep, green eyes starring right at him. They weren’t filled with resentment like Wally’s or anguish like Conner’s. They were warm and comforting. He feared that if he told her what he wanted to tell her, that they wouldn’t look at him that way anymore.

He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. She reached for him. As he felt her soft touch on his face, he broke. He told her everything about the mission and the lies.

When he got to the part about Artemis working undercover with Kaldur, he noticed her expression get distant.

“So she’s -she’s alive?”

He nodded. And waited. Waited for her to yell at him. To tell him what he was doing was wrong. That it wasn’t worth it. Or worse, for her to say nothing.

Instead she looked at him and asked, “who knows?”

He told her about their tiny circle that was in on the plan. He told her how he felt lying to everyone on the team, about the flash drive, about how he felt responsible for the other’s kidnapping, about how he almost got his team -his family- killed. He felt like he had been underwater and how he could now finally breathe. He had kept everything bottled up for so long that now it exploded and he didn’t even notice there had been tears until he found himself wiping at a wet sensation on his cheek.

When he looked at Babs she didn’t say anything. She simply pulled him to her and embraced him. His head lay under her chin as he allowed himself to wrap his arms around her waist. Dick steadied himself as he listened to the rhythm of her heartbeat. They sat this way for a while.

Dick pulled away finally when he felt he’d gained control of his breathing and his thoughts. He looked at his best friend and said, “you’re not mad?”

She looked at him and took a long breath.

“No,” she said finally, “for as long as I’ve known you Dick, you never do anything to hurt anyone. Even if that means hurting yourself. I don’t like that you lied, but I understand why you did. I’m sorry you felt that this was something you had to take on by yourself. I’m sorry you felt like you had to be Batman...”

She trailed off at the end. Babs knew more than anyone that Dick no longer wanted to become Batman. She knew from working with him first-hand that Batman was somebody only Bruce Wayne could be. Anybody else would be crazy to try to act like Batman...except Dick did.

“I’m not telling you that you have to let me in on the rest of your mission,” Barbara said, “I just want you to know you’ll always have someone to talk to when things get overwhelming. You’re not Bruce, Dick. Never forget that you’re never alone.”

That was it. Leave it to Barbara to always have the perfect thing to say. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off him and could feel a relief he hadn’t felt in ages. He looked at her and simply said, “thank you.”

She smiled.

“Soooo,” she said after a moment. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

He raised an eyebrow.

Babs sighed, “I told my dad I was gonna sleep over at Mary’s to finish a project because the original plan was to spend the night on patrol since Bruce is presently out of town but then I heard what happened through the comms and I found myself coming here...”

She was starting to ramble a little. Dick noticed she only did that when she got nervous...and he’s rarely seen Babs get nervous. He hadn’t realized how close they were sitting to each other either.

“Yeah, we can watch a movie.” Dick agreed after he found himself starring at her lips for a little too long.

He tasked himself with finding something to watch while she got the bag of chips and went back to the kitchen to find something else for them to snack on.

Dick couldn’t help but watch her. He loved the way she walked around his apartment like she lived here too. So maybe it had been too long since the last time he’d seen her. Really seen her. Like outside of their costumed extra curricular activities. He missed her. Babs was always beautiful. And it wasn’t weird he thought of her in this way. They’ve always had a special type of relationship. But besides the usual playful flirting between them and a couple kisses -amazing kisses- they were just best friends. Secretly he’d been wishing they were more than that since he was 13 but he knew he wasn’t ready for her then.

Thinking back to their conversation, he realized how much they’ve each grown as people. And more importantly how it felt like they hadn’t grown out of each other as most childhood friends do. No, if anything they’ve grown more into each other. No matter how much time they spent apart, they could always come back together and fit perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. The sound of a pop from the microwave brought him back outside his thoughts. Then he stood up, like on autopilot and as if his brain had just said “fuck it. Stop being a coward” he walked across to where Babs was waiting on the popcorn. As she turned to address him, Dick took her face in one hand and her waist in the other and kissed her. It was a long and deep kiss. He pulled away a little after to see her expression.

He was close enough that when she opened her eyes again he could see her pupils were dilated as she looked up at him. They were both breathing slightly heavy from the kiss. He could tell he caught her off guard but he didn’t know how to string words together to say how much he just wanted her and was tired of dancing around it. So he hoped his eyes were enough to convey that message. The silence was broken by the microwave beeping. Dick took the bowl out and put it on the side of the stove to let it cool a bit.

“Dick?” Barbara said making him turn around.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He started kissing her back and as their lips moved together Dick felt a warm feeling in his stomach. Is that what people mean when they say butterflies? He’d been with other women but never felt that. He pushed her up onto the kitchen counter and his hands traveled to her waist. Her hands moved from the back of his neck to his hair as she pulled him closer. Her lips were so soft that he never wanted to depart from them and her touch was so soothing that he felt every worry lift off his body making him feel weightless.

The way their bodies moved together was in perfect synch. Like two pieces of a puzzle, he thought to himself. He noticed her hands had gone down to the bottom of his shirt, gently tugging at it. So he pulled apart for a moment and took it off. Her hands felt so amazing as they touched his chest. As their lips met again this time his wandered down towards her neck. He hasn’t realized she was wearing a black tank top that fit her so well until the moment when he began pulling it off her. Their eyes locked as she smiled at him. He couldn’t help but smile back because her happiness was always contagious to him.

Dick realized that if they were going to continue, they shouldn’t keep doing so on his kitchen counter. Without skipping a beat he effortlessly picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her over to his bed.

#dick grayson #nightwing #barbara gordon #batgirl #young justice #young justice invasion #dickbabs #fanfic #dc comics #dc universe #batman #robin #dc #the writers weren’t gonna give this to us so I wrote it myself

45 notes · View notes

brokutosan · 4 years

Text

Title. It Made Me Feel Warm Yet Scared At The Same Time

Pairing. Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which she’s hurtling towards him, but she’s scared he might not catch her. (Spoiler: he does).

Warnings. This contains manga spoilers to up to the latest chapter!

Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn’t look like someone who’s interested in relationships. Or perhaps he truly isn’t. Day in and day out his thoughts are plagued with volleyball, and Y/N isn’t sure if she can find a place she could weasel her way into those said thoughts.

Tendou Satori, her coworker and friend who had introduced her to the man in question, had once said that, “Wakatoshi-kun’s brain is basically a hollowed out volleyball.” It makes sense, though. He’s a Division 1 player that’s made his way to the National Japanese team at the age of 19, so if he wasn’t as dedicated to the sport as he is then Y/N would think his whole career is a fluke.

“Say, Y/N-chan,” Tendou hums, catching the girl’s attention, “why do you like Wakatoshi-kun anyways?” Y/N stops to think about the question. It’s a good and valid question and the eccentric man in front of her had asked it a million times. And each time Y/N does not know how to answer the question.

“Why is the sky blue?” Y/N finds herself throwing the question at Tendou after much consideration.

“Hah?” He jumps up. His reaction is totally over the top, but it’s nothing Y/N isn’t already used to. “How am I supposed to answer that?” He questions back, brows furrowing into a frown.

“That’s exactly how I feel about your question.” Y/N calmly replies, taking a sip of her drink. Tendou’s face relaxes from its frown, and he jumps up exclaiming, “Oh! I see what you did there.”

“Wait. When did we jump from finishing this paperwork to talking about my love life?” Y/N perks up, straightening her back in order to avoid premature back problems. She focuses her attention back on their forgotten paperwork, rearranging them based on importance.

“I’m just a concerned friend trying to help solve your relationship problems. Specifically your lack of one.”

“Well, thanks but no thanks.” At that, Tendou gives it a rest. Or at least Y/N thought so, before he shoots up in his seat again, gaining strange looks from the people seated near the pair in the small café. “I got it! Is it because he’s attractive?”

Y/N throws him a pointed look, one that screamed out her disappointment, before she sighs out, “I like Ushijima-san because he’s Ushijima-san.” Tendou pauses and brings a hand up to his face, indicating some sort of thought process.

“Yes yes, I totally understand.”

“Kinda feels like you don’t.”

“I do.”

Y/N accepts defeat, choosing to just stay quiet just in case Tendou starts trying to dig deeper. A few minutes of silence engulfs the two as they focus on their on work, the topic of Y/N’s ‘tragic’ love life and Ushijima Wakatoshi being forgotten amidst paperwork and deadlines.

“Aki said yes when I proposed.”

“Satori! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” This time the strange looks are pointed at Y/N, who’s leaning in from across the table to an unamused red head. “I forgot about it ‘til now.”

“So...?” Y/N muses, still standing on the balls of her feet as she shoves her face as close as possible to her surprisingly nonchalant friend. “So what?”

“When did you propose? How did you propose? When’s the wedding?” Y/N gushes, forgetting to let her friend answer her never-ending questions. “Slow down there, Y/N-chan.” Tendou chuckles and waits for her to settle down in her seat before continuing,

“I proposed last weekend over dinner and the wedding’s in four months.”

“Four months? Is that enough time to prepare?”

“It’s a simple ceremony at a shrine back home. All we care about is actually getting married.” Tendou has a dreamy look on his face, one that made Y/N slightly jealous. She hopes that someday she’ll feel it too.

Taking in her friend’s expression that screamed out ‘I’m in love!’, Y/N smiles warmly and says, from the bottom of her heart, “I’m happy for you and Aki, Satori. I really am.”

“Yeah. And I wouldn’t have met her if it weren’t for you, Y/N. So...” Tendou hints, wiggling his eyebrows and craning his neck in a way that implied he’s up to something.

“Oh no no no. No, I get where this is going, but no.” Y/N shakes her head ‘no’ vigorously, and Tendou’s almost worried for her neck but argues,

“I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“You’re grateful that I set you and Aki-chan up so now you want to do the same thing for me and Ushijima-san.”

“Damn, you’re good.” Tendou mumbles as he slouches down in his chair. “I wouldn’t be this happy if it weren’t for your help, Y/N-chan. Let me return the favor.”

“It wouldn’t be a favor if I expected something in return. Trust me Satori, I’m fine.” Y/N is hesitant to say her next sentence, but she does so anyway. “Besides...I don’t think Ushijima-san likes me like that anyways.”

“Hah?! Are you blind?!” At this point the workers are giving them dirty looks and Y/N has to physically wrestle Tendou back down to his chair. “Scream one more time and I’m telling our boss you’re finishing all of my paperwork for me.” Tendou pouts but complies anyways.

“You’re crazy if you think he doesn’t like you!” Tendou whisper-yells while making obscene gestures with his hands. “What makes you say that?”

“Look, it might not be obvious to you, but I’ve known Wakatoshi-kun since highschool!” Tendou states the obvious. Y/N looks at him unamused, but lets him continue anyways. “When he likes or dislikes something, it shows on his face!”

“His facial expression has never changed when he’s talking to me though.”

“But it does when you’re not looking! He has that small, satisfying smile on his face like when he perfects a spike or wins a game.” Y/N is skeptical, though she always is when it comes to Tendou, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt. “Okay. Say he does miraculously like me too. Then why hasn’t he made a move?”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Touché.”

Tendou lets out a dramatic sigh and slams his head down on the table. “You’re both hopeless!”

“I’d like to think of myself more as a realist. And the reality is Ushijima-san probably sees me as your boring friend from work.” Tendou runs a hand through his face and lets out something that sounds like a mixture of a grunt and a groan. He’s overreacting, Y/N thinks to herself.

“He’s a VLeague player, Satori. Meanwhile I can barely make rent on time because my friend won’t let me get my work done.”

“You’re being unfair to yourself Y/N! Why not give it a chance?” Y/N ponders over it for a minute. She could. No, she wants to, wholeheartedly. But the thing is she’s scared of making a fool out of herself. While she’s not technically someone with an inferiority complex, it’s hard to get past the fact that the man is way out of her league.

Then again...how the hell would she know if she doesn’t even give it a shot?

“Damn.” Y/N huffs out in defeat, back slamming her chair as she dramatically drops her body on it. Tendou sees this as a sign of victory, and holds up two peace signs. “Operation Wakatoshi and Y/N is a go!”

“I hate you, Satori.”

“Oh c’mon! You love me!”

“Nope. I hate you to death.”

“You’ll thank me for this opportunity later.”

“Sure, if I don’t kill you beforehand.” Tendou lets out a laugh, or more like a cackle, and Y/N has to physically rip her phone away from her ears in order to avoid damage. She’s thankful she’s not in public, like a train or something, or else she would have died out of embarrassment.

“You can’t kill me ‘cus then no one would help you with Operation Wakatoshi and Y/N!” Tendou wheezes out as soon as he’s done with his laughing fit.

“I can help myself.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Have I said how much I hate you yet?”

“Y/N,” Tendou’s voice is clear with no more trace of laughter. If Y/N knew any better - the guy is being one hundred percent serious. “Just go to dinner with us, you won’t die from it. I’ll say Aki-chan had a free dinner for four and pay our meals in advance.”

“Isn’t that too obvious? Like why him and why me out of all of your friends?”

“Wakatoshi-kun won’t look into the finer details of these types of things. Trust me.”

“What if I freak him out? What if he thinks I’m insanely boring? What if -” Tendou cuts off her unnecessary rambling. From her end of the call, Y/N can just feel the major eyeroll Tendou was probably doing.

“Relax. All you need to do is be yourself, Y/N! Talk to him about your daily life and listen to him ramble about volleyball. If anything Aki-chan and I will be there as a buffer.”

“Thanks for the reassurance, but I’d rather die.”

“You’re so dramatic, Y/N chan.” And at that, she immediately shuts her mouth. If that phrase just came out of Tendou’s mouth of all people, then perhaps she was being just a smidge bit dramatic. Only because Tendou was set on hooking her up with his greek god of a friend.

The call ends after a bit more teasing from Tendou and some more death theats from Y/N that followed. Eventually they decide on a date after considering Ushijima’s training schedule, and it suddenly hits Y/N that it’s actually going to happen. She’s actually going to dinner with one of the finest man she’s ever seen walk the Earth.

“So...” Four pairs of eyes glance around at each other, each seemingly awkward and unfamiliar despite knowing each and everyone there on the table. It was Aki who had decided to take the liberty of breaking the silence, and Y/N silently thanks her friend who’s always been the more extroverted one among the two.

“Wakatoshi-kun, how’s volleyball training?” Aki darts her eyes at the said man, who was busy trying to ignore the awkward stares by stuffing his face with the pork curry in front of him. He coughs, obviously caught off guard, and Tendou is kind enough to pour him a glass of water (albeit he had a shit-eating grin on his face, but it’s the thought that counts).

“Ah, it’s doing well.” Ushijima replies after his mini choking scare. If he did end up choking on that piece of pork, Y/N is certified at performing the heimlich maneuver, but she’s not sure she could handle being that close to him without suddenly freaking out.

Y/N shakes her head in attempt of getting rid of the mental image of her arms wrapped around Ushijima’s torso. His very lean and toned torso. Her eyes wander a below his chest where she’s sure, hiding behind that thick sweater, is a body she’s only ever seen in movies. A testament to his strict training and diet.

“...Y/N? What do you think?” Tendou’s egging her on. She knows he saw her eyeing Ushijima like a piece of man-candy and now he’s making her pay for it. The red haired man is grinning at her, and it took everything in Y/N not to slap that grin off his face from across the table.

“Um...yes...?” It comes out a lot weaker than Y/N had intended it to, and now Tendou’s biting his cheeks to hold in his laughter. Y/N sees Aki elbow his ribs from under the table. Good. The bastard deserves it.

“Oh, so you do think that Wakatoshi-kun’s the most attractive player in the league?” Fuck. If she blurts out ‘no’ right now she’d be offending him. If she blurts out ‘yes’ she’ll be digging her own grave.

“Tendou. She doesn’t have to answer that.” Ushijima’s voice is stern yet indifferent, but good enough to shut Tendou up. Y/N weakly nods her head, a small apology for letting her thoughts wander and creating that awkward situation. He nods back in acknowledgment.

“Wakatoshi-kun, would ‘ya mind walking Y/N back to her apartment? Aki-chan and I here have a long way home and I’m worried about our friend Y/N here since it’s getting late.” There’s the catch. Y/N should have known he had a few tricks up his sleeve.

“No, it’s totally fine! My apartment is only a fifteen minute walk away, and there’s street lights everywhere! You don’t need to-”

“I was already planning on doing that.” Y/N finds herself getting more excited at those words than she should. He truly is a gentleman.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose! I know you’re probably busy with training and stuff.”

“Y/N-san. It’s only a fifteen minute walk away. I think I’ll be fine.” He says with a small smile. Ah. So he’s decided to throw her words right back at her. Clever.

The rest of their dinner goes by smoothly, with Y/N being careful Tendou doesn’t make an ass of her for the rest of the night. She learns more things about Ushijima than before, things like how his dad lives in California, and he tries to visit every once in a while. By the end of the night, Y/N feels herself getting closer to her crush. But then she remembers the dreaded 15 minute walk back to her house.

“Ushijima-san, are you sure about this? I really don’t want to be a bother.” She repeats for the nth time since walking out of the restaurant.

Ushijima offers her another smile and says, “It’s fine, L/N-san. I wouldn’t be comfortable knowing I let you walk home alone in the dark.” And at that Y/N gives it a rest, deciding to walk in silence. It lasts about three minutes, until Ushijima asks in a soft voice,

“Do you find being around me uncomfortable?” It comes out almost vulnerable, pretty ironic considering this tower of a man doesn’t look like the type who’d ask this question. Nontheless, Y/N quickly retorts,

“No! I mean...no, of course not! It’s quite the opposite, actually. I find your presence comforting, like...uh...like a giant teddy bear!” Oh god. She said that out loud. As in she said those words. As in she just called Ushijima Wakatoshi, Schweiden Adlers’ opposite hitter and the National team’s cannon, a giant teddy bear. I want to die. Y/N keeps walking ahead, not noticing that the stupidly handsome man beside her had stopped walking about five steps ago.

Y/N is so focused on mentally kicking herself in the ass that she doesn’t notice the feint small that makes its way to his face. And the laugh that follows takes her by surprise. It’s a nice sound. Y/N’s almost glad she made an ass out of herself in order to hear it.

“That’s...that’s a pretty interesting comparison.” He says once his laughter dies down. Looking back at him, Y/N finds it unfair how the moonlight is hitting his features just right, making him look almost ethereal. This man truly is out of her league. (And she just called him a giant teddy bear, Y/N’s never gonna forget that).

“Sorry, that totally came out wrong.” Y/N’s glad Tendou’s not around. The slimy bastard would never let her live it down. She could almost imagine having to go about her day with Tendou reminding her that this happened. She shudders at the thought. Ushijima notices this.

“Are you cold?” Y/N purses her lips and starts to say no, but is interrupted by him sliding off his jacket. “Here, take this.” He says warmly, closing the five-step gap between them with three long strides.

Y/N finds herself at lost for words as an oversized jacket pools her form, and Ushijima zips up the jacket with gentle hands. His face is even closer now, this much Y/N is hyperactively aware of. She feels a brush creeping up her face and curses herself for being so helpless in this situation. If only Tendou could see her now.

“Thank you, Ushijima-san. You didn’t have to.” He’s looking down at her with an unreadable expression, hands still fixed at her shoulders.

“Wakatoshi.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Just Wakatoshi is fine.” His face breakes into a smile as the sentence causes blood to shoot up Y/N’s face, her cheeks no doubt redder than a tomato. Cute, he thinks to himself.

“A-ah, then, thank you, Wakatoshi.” She manages to squeak out, though her voice is a bit muffled from her hands covering her face. She feels warm hands grip her wrist, gently pulling her hands away from her face. Y/N is once again made aware of the fact that his face alone could be used as a deadly weapon.

“You can just call me Y/N, too.” She finds herself blurting out. Ushijima, the deadly weapon, decides to go in for the kill. “Alright. So, Y/N, would you like to have dinner with me some other day? Just the two of us this time.”

Y/N pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming, and replies with a hearty grin and a, “Yeah, I’d love that.”

A/N. Another reupload! There was a certain point in time when I was obsessed with Ushiwaka. This is me praying tribute to that. As always, thank you for reading! Please leave a like if you enjoyed it! - chuu

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshots #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq x reader #hq oneshots #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi imagine #ushijima wakatoshi scenario #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi oneshot #shiratorizawa

96 notes · View notes

inkribbon796 · 4 years

Text

Loose Lips, Sink Ships

Summary: Secrets, secrets, never tell . . . Secrets, secrets, just as well. Sometimes secrets are harmless, like the fact that Roman has a chronic case of losing the remotes and they don’t actually grow wings. But for Virgil and some of the other heroes, they’re a bit more serious. Too bad the Jims have no sense of the words: “keep out”.

A/N: No ships were harmed in the revealing of secrets. Just Virgil’s peace of mind. ALSO! Just wanted to put it out there I’m really glad I didn’t commit to a name for Deceit, might come out with a bonus fic this weekend for Deceit, cause I’ve got Sanders Sides on the brain.

Marvin would always swear up and down that it was an accident.

The magician had always been good at brewing potions. They took time, and Marvin prided himself on the fact that he could succeed where others failed, or even weren’t so good at. So of course he could make about any type of potion that wasn’t necessarily “above board” to make. I.E: love potions and truth serums. Both of which didn’t last nearly as long as fiction liked to say they lasted for.

However, when the Jims walked into a relatively packed common room with a huge grin, everyone knew something was up with them.

Eric, Patton, Virgil, and Randall were all watching a movie, a little bit of downtime before Patton and Virgil stepped back out. King was in the kitchen arguing about the coffee maker with Ethan and Roman. And Jackie, who was just watching the room, took one look at the Jims and thought, “Oh no, what are they up to this time?”.

“Party’s in the house!” RJ screamed and threw the glass potion he’d been hiding behind his back onto the floor. It smashed into pieces and quickly began to fill up the space.

A silvery smoke instantly flooded the room, more smoke than could have possibly fit inside that little glass orb.

Everyone in the lobby area began coughing, the smoke physically forcing them to breath it in. Jackie used his super speed to open the door and force the smoke out into the open air.

“Fook!” Jackie coughed, “what was that?”

“Not a glitter bomb,” RJ shrugged.

“I thought the label said it was a glitter bomb,” CJ agreed.

“Yeh fookers are mad,” Jackie spat. “Where’d you even get it?”

“Marvin’s study,” CJ answered. “He was working on something else.”

“Then why’d you take it?” Anxiety shouted. “What even was that thing?”

Both of the Jim Twins looked at each other, and then shrugged at the same time.

“Helpful,” Virgil glared at them.

“Okay, so we gotta figure out what it does,” Patton added. “Do you think it’s going to hurt anyone outside?”

“Nah, it was starting to dissipate when it hit the air outside,” Jackie said, zipping over to check outside for a second “Yep, coast’s all clear.”

Patton let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, that’s good.

“Maybe we could ask Marvin,” Randall asked.

“Good idea,” the Jim twins began at almost the same time. “We’ll go find him.”

Then they looked at each other with confusion.

“Nah uh,” Ethan walked over. “I don’t trust the two of you with shit. I’m coming with.”

Once the three of them were gone, Roman commented, “What if it only works on twins. Oh no! Will I be forced to share a mind with Remus again.”

“Shoot me,” Virgil groaned.

“No, you don’t really mean that do you?” Patton asked in concern.

“Of course not,” Virgil said. “It just slipped out.”

Patton looked relieved, and then tears started prickling his eyes, “Oh good, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Then Patton raced over and wrapped his arms around Virgil, the more anxious Side stiffening up like a cat that had been suddenly picked up.

“Come on, Pat, let me go,” Virgil struggled.

“Why don’t I ever get a hug from you?” Roman complained.

Jackie had his head in one of his hands, his phone starting to ring for Marvin. He was getting impatient, even more so when Marvin didn’t answer him. “Come on, we need to figure out what we got hit with.”

Marvin walked in with Ethan and the twins, and Jackie immediately stomped over to him.

“Hey Marv, what the hell?” Jackie spat. “What’d they steal?”

“I can’t tell just by the color ‘a smoke,” Marvin defended heatedly. “Has anyone suddenly tried making out.”

“No,” Eric said. “I ha-ve a b-b-oy-friend now, and . . . I don’t want to cheat on him. I’ve . . . I’ve never had a boy-friend before and—”

“Eric,” Marvin called out. “Breathe.”

“Is it Illy?” Roman’s attention hyper focused on Eric. “Did he call back? Tell me.”

“Illinois?” King balked. “Why the hell you are dating that asshole?”

“He’s not an asshole, he’s a sweetheart,” Eric began tearing up.

“He put slugs in my bed,” King dismissed. “He’s a nut job who got crazier the older he got and the closer he got to Dad.”

“Is it the same Illinois that works for Dark?” Virgil spoke up. “King’s right, he’s crazy.”

“He’s not!” Eric began crying.

“Hey, quit making ‘em cry, assholes,” Randall shouted back.

Magic suddenly seized all of them, Marvin taking control of the situation. “Hey,” Marvin called out. “Okay, it’s either a truth potion, or someone aerosolized my supply of Whiskey.”

“What were you doing with a truth potion?” Jackie demanded. “Did you give it to those two fookers?”

“No,” Marvin scoffed. “Those two would steal the clothes off my back if it meant pulling a prank.”

“We totally would,” CJ smiled, fist bumping with his brother; both of them which huge proud smiles.

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t try something,” Jackie reminded.

“I didn’t drug yeh, an’ it’ll wear off anywhere from an hour ta about a day, ‘pends on the dose.”

“A whole day!” Jackie was practically screeching.

“Depends on the dose,” Marvin answered. “But as long as no one’s got some deep dark secret you all should be fine.”

Anxiety let out a nervous scream.

Kay laughed nervously, “Everyone already knows mine.”

Patton began sobbing, whatever he was saying almost indecipherable.

“Well that’s great,” Marvin groaned.

“Why did yah even have that potion?” Jackie asked, still glaring at Marvin. “Probably didn’t mean for us ta get it though.”

“I made it ages ago an’ didn’t want ta risk it by flushing it down the drain,” Marvin spat. “Just get e’eryone comfortable, I’ll see if I can whip an antidote up.”

“Thanks, asshole,” Jackie spat. Then he looked a little surprised. “Dammit, that was supposed to stay in my head.”

“Well ‘til the potion wears off, it’s not. Keep everyone who was affected here,” Marvin sighed. “I’ll make some calls.”

Jackie nodded, thanking Marvin in-between cursing at him.

Keeping themselves in the lobby they tried not to insult each other the best they could. Eric was mostly calmed down, only snapping at King who snapped back. It was fun for everyone to see the normally timid Eric snapping at someone.

However Patton was lying in the middle of the floor, staring at the ceiling. Virgil and Roman were on either side of him. King and Jackie were on the sofa and both the Jim’s were piled into a bean bag chair. Eric has gone to his room to sleep everything off, Randall taking him there.

“Do you ever think that your life’s a lie?” Patton mumbled out loud. “That no matter how many times you fuse, and how hard you try to be a good person, someone can just scoop out everything that makes you a good person and put in something else.”

Roman stared at him. “Like what?”

“I think I was replaced with another Patton, that your Patton is in my world, and I’m here,” Patton began to ramble. “But I wanna be a good person, I wanna be a good person so bad it hurts.”

“You are a good guy, Pat,” Roman said, cuddling up next to him.

“No, I’m a bad person,” Patton said in-between sobbing, his voice choking up. “I worked with Dark, I’ve watched people die.”

“You never worked with Dark, you’re been with the other Sides the whole time,” Anxiety told him. “I would have recognized you.”

“Then why do I have all these awful memories in my head that won’t go away,” Patton sat up, looking desperately at Virgil. Whether or not he was looking for reassurance or someone to validate his claims was unknown. “They only go away when I fuse. When I was Thomas last time they went away for months.”

Anxiety seemed to be thinking on Patton’s words, “It must be Arthur, he must be doing that to you. He’s forcing you to think that way.”

“Who’s Arthur?” Patton asked.

“Arthur’s dead,” King interrupted. “He bled out on an operating table in front of me. How many times do I keep having to repeat that.”

“What do you mean he’s dead, he can’t be,” Virgil responded. “He’s been keeping Dark from taking over the base.”

“Nah that’s Host and J.J, the two of them keep Dark out,” Roman bragged. “Dark’s always been trying to get into the base but it wasn’t until the Host joined that J.J got some help.”

“I knew he was a liar!” Anxiety shouted.

“Who?” Roman asked. “Dee?”

“Dark!” Anxiety answered. “Oh no.”

“He lies about a lot of stuff,” King agreed. “He once told me we couldn’t get a pet, and then he got himself a cat and named it after himself. I just wanted a puppy.”

“That’s so sad,” Patton told him, rolling over to prop his chin up on his palms. “Least you got a kitty.”

“For a couple days,” King dismissed. Then he paused, “Hey Vee, how’d you even hear about Artie? Everyone in the network uses nicknames.”

Virgil felt the words coming, like an out of control freight train with broken brakes. He grabbed at his throat. “He told me to look for him.”

“Who?” King asked. “Artie?”

“I don’t want to do it, I have talked with him since,” Virgil said, everyone was staring at him.. “You have to believe me, I didn’t believe it, I’m not spying on you, I promise!”

“I believe you,” Patton told him. “You don’t have to talk to him ever again.”

“What kind of spy doesn’t report on the people he’s spying on?” Jack agreed.

“You’re not mad?” Virge asked, daring to hope that somehow he was getting out of this alive. “Even if I was a bad guy?”

King laughed, “You think that’s bad, I’m hiding out from my old man because he would probably kill me if he ever saw me again.”

“Who’s your dad?” Randall asked.

“Dark,” King said, before slapping his hand over his mouth. “Oh no, Host’s gonna kill me.”

“What!?” About half of the heroes in the room shouted. Virgil stared at King.

“You’re not Arthur,” Virgil said out loud, his filter completely destroyed by the truth dust.

“Nah, that’s one of my siblings,” King was staring at his hands. “Host, Bim, Yan, me, Illy, Yancy, and . . .”

Then he stared at his hands, “Huh, weren’t there seven of us?”

“Was that Arthur?” Virgil asked.

“Nah, I already counted him,” King dismissed, waving at Virgil’s direction. “Sides, Artie’s kinda dead, except in the ways that probably matter. You all lucked out, you guys didn’t have to babysit him.”

RJ, who was almost falling asleep with CJ snapped away, almost dragging him and his camera over to have it almost pressed into King’s face. “This sounds like a story.”

King stared at the camera in fear, “Is that live? Please tell me it’s not live.”

“The Jim Twins should make sure it doesn’t see the light of day,” the Host announced himself.

“Host, there’s a truth spray in the air!” King called out desperately as the Host walked closer.

“Even if it was still the air, the Host’s narrations have him dictate his mind anyways,” the seer reminded.

“Oh yeah,” King’s mouth formed a thin line. “You really got the short end didn’t you?”

The Host just stared at him. “The King of the Squirrels should take a nap before he incriminates himself any further.”

“What if I did?” King somehow looked halfway between apologetic and not even a little remorseful. “Like, what if I messed up, bad?”

“The Host noticed,” the seer frowned at him.

“Nah, it was bad,” King frowned. “The one thing you told me not to do, I did it.”

“The Host can see the future, he doesn’t need a replay,” the Host reminded curtly.

“Do you hate me?” King asked sadly. “You probably do, right?”

The Host sat down on the couch next to his adopted brother, his expression softening, “The Host has never hated King.”

“Did Artie?” King was staring at his hands.

“No the Author did not hate King either,” the Host told him “He was angry and dangerous, but he did not hate his adopted family.”

King looked sad, “Oh, that sucks. Cause you were an asshole and I always felt bad about not being nicer.”

“King should save his sympathy,” Host decided. “The Author did not deserve it.”

“You did,” King told him. “You were in there, an’ I should’a been nicer.”

“So you’re Arthur then?” Virgil asked, narrowing his eyes in concentration. “Probably should have called that.”

“King and his friends should sleep,” Host told him, as his words began to curl around the room and people began dropping one by one to sleep. “Everything will be better after you sleep.”

They slept, making it easier for the minds to clear even if each of their dreams were a little more unusual and potion-fueled than usual. Marvin was able to lift the spell by the time they woke up, leaving an uncomfortable atmosphere in the potion’s wake.

#Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #Mark Fischbach #Sean McLoughlin #Thomas Sanders #the Jim Twins #Marvin the Magician #Anxiety Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #King of the Squirrels #Jackieboy Man #the Host #Randall Voorhees #Eric Derekson #Truth Serum #Jim chaos #the Jims at their finest

2 notes · View notes

highfivecalum · 6 years

Text

Wouldn’t Miss A Chance {CH} 15

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine TenEleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

❋ ❋ ❋

IT HAD BEEN A FULL WEEK since the party and since Ashton had come home. Calum and Sophie tried to get ahold of him, tried to explain everything to him, but he ignored all of their calls and texts. They knew he was upset and more so pissed off, but they thought they deserved the chance and opportunity to explain themselves.

Things between Calum and Sophie were good, great, almost perfect even. With it just being the two of them in the house they could have sex and be as open and lovey as they wanted to without fear of Ashton lashing out or feeling uncomfortable. The only thing bothering Sophie was the nagging voice in the back of her head telling her not to trust Calum after he told her he spent the night at Sarah’s.

Sophie knew she should trust him. She knew that he wouldn’t hurt her, not intentionally at least, but the jealous and paranoid part of her made it hard for her to. The fact that she had been cheated on before and lied to really messed up her trust issues, so she didn’t think she was being completely crazy and paranoid when it came to the potential of Calum sleeping with Sarah, especially since she knew they had a history.

She just really hoped that she was wrong.

Not having to work that day or night and with Calum out doing stuff, Sophie sat alone in the house with her thoughts that were driving her absolutely crazy. She knew she needed to get up off the couch and do something, distract herself and keep her mind occupied, so she finally peeled her body off of the couch and got up to shower and get ready. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do by herself, but she knew she needed to get out of the house.

After her very much needed shower and after applying her makeup and finding a suitable outfit for the weather, Sophie grabbed her car keys and drove in the direction of the mall. It wasn’t far, just over ten minutes, and she was glad when she easily found a parking spot in the crowded parking garage.

Sophie walked around the mall for a little bit, still not entirely sure where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do, but when she saw a large SALE sign in the window of one of her favorite stores, she knew she had to go in. She hadn’t been shopping in a while and she had saved almost all of her money she had been making from the bar, so she decided to treat herself.

Sophie picked out a pair of jeans, a few tops, and a few pairs of lacy underwear and bras to match. She tried them all on, smiling widely when everything fit perfectly and looked great-- that was a rare occurrence for her when it came to shopping, she usually had no luck. Happily making her way towards to the counter, she was stopped by somebody calling her. Spinning around, Sophie was face to face with Clara.

“Sophie! Hi,” Clara pulled her in for a quick hug which Sophie returned. Sophie hadn’t seen Clara since the night of the party and she was happy they ran into each other because Sophie was dying to know how Ashton was doing and if he was okay. “How are you doing?”

Sophie tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and shrugged. “I’m alright. I’ve been better.”

Clara knew it was because of Ashton and Calum and the fight between the three of them and Sophie didn’t even have to ask before Clara was opening her mouth and talking about Ashton. “He’s really upset,” Clara sighed and Sophie furrowed her eyebrows. “Ashton, I mean.”

“Right,” Sophie nodded her head and laughed sadly. “You probably think I’m the worst sister ever; dating my brother’s best friend. Has he said anything about it?”

“I don’t think that,” Clara assured her. “And not really, no. He just huffs and mopes around and when I try to get him to talk about it he just shuts me out. I just think he never expected that to happen so he was totally blindsided by it, you know?” Sophie nodded her head. “And I think he’s worried about you and just trying to look out for you since he knows Calum well and knows he doesn’t do relationships well.”

“And I understand that, I do, I just-” Sophie ran a frustrated hand through her hair and exhaled a sigh. She wanted to cry at the thought of Ashton hating the idea of her and Calum together. “I just wish he would talk to me and let me explain things. He ignores my calls and I’m pretty sure he blocked Calum’s number.”

“Want me to talk to him?”

“Oh no,” Sophie shook her head. “I don’t want to drag you into it. Ashton’s already pissed at us, he doesn’t need to be pissed at you, too.”

“I don’t mind. If you and Calum are really happy together and if it’s a serious thing then Ashton needs to hear you guys out and let you explain. I think he owes you that much.” Clara smiled sympathetically. “And I’m also tired of him moping around my apartment.” She laughed lightly and Sophie smiled.

“Well, thank you, Clara. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” Clara waved Sophie off like it was no big deal, but to Sophie it was. “I’ll let you go now, though. I hope everything works out for you guys.” The pair said their goodbyes, giving each other a quick hug before Clara was making her way to the fitting rooms and Sophie making hers to the registers.

Sophie walked aimlessly around the mall thinking about what Clara had said. Clara was right, Ashton did owe Calum and Sophie that much, but she wasn’t sure if Ashton thought about it that way. She hoped, prayed even, that Clara could get through to him.

Sophie was knocked out of her thoughts when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. Pulling it out, her grim expression turned into a smile at the text from Calum.

Calum: Any plans tonight? I’m makin’ dinner for you if you’re free.

Sophie smiled and quickly wrote a text back to him, looking up every so often to make sure she didn’t bump into anyone, but was unsuccessful when she felt her body collide with another. She locked her phone and looked up to apologize. “I’m so sorry.” Her smile from Calum’s text diminished when she saw Sarah standing in front of her.

Sarah pursed her lips and looked Sophie up and down. “Sophie, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi.”

“You should really watch where you’re going.”

Sophie furrowed her eyebrows at the bitchy tone in Sarah’s voice. “I’m sorry, I was just-”

“Texting?” Sophie rolled her lips into her mouth and nodded her head. “Texting who?”

Sophie wanted to tell her that it wasn’t any of her business who she was texting, but unlike Sarah, Sophie was polite and had manners. “Um, Calum.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. “Oh. That’s surprising.”

“Why is that surprising?”

“I just figured after he stayed at my place that night you would have ended things, since you know, we hooked up and everything.” Sarah smiled and Sophie felt her insides twist. “Well, I gotta go, nice seeing you, though Sophie.”

Sophie was left there standing in the middle of the mall, mouth agape, and heart slowly breaking at Sarah’s words and she hoped to God that Sarah was lying, because if she wasn’t, Ashton was right, and Calum was capable of breaking her heart.

❋ ❋ ❋

Sophie sat at the dinner table across from Calum, twisting her pasta around on her plate while her brain tortured her with the thoughts of Calum and Sarah together. Was Sarah just jealous that Sophie and Calum were together? Or did Calum lie to her and they really did hook up? She couldn’t get her mind to shut the fuck up no matter how hard she tried.

The whole time Sophie helped Calum cook dinner she was in her own world and Calum noticed, but he didn’t say anything. He figured that maybe she was just tired or hungry and after she ate she would go back to her normal, smiling and nonstop talking self, but she didn’t, and Calum was getting worried.

“Sophie,” Calum repeated Sophie’s name louder this time and her head snapped up from her plate.

“Sorry. What?”

“I asked if you were okay.”

“Oh,” Sophie cleared her throat. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Calum frowned, knowing fully well that Sophie wasn’t fine, and stood up, completely forgetting about his food and rounded the table so he was in front of her. He crouched down, knees bent so now they were face to face and he took her hand in his. “Soph,” Calum mumbled. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Sophie shook her head although it wasn’t nothing. “It’s stupid.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothin’.”

Sophie exhaled a sigh and closed her eyes before telling Calum what happened. “I ran into Sarah when I was at the mall today and she-- she told me that when you stayed at her house the night of the party the two of you hooked up.”

Calum’s jaw locked and he looked away from Sophie. He shook his head angrily and stood up. “And you believed her?”

“I don’t know, Calum! I don’t know what to believe.”

“Nothing happened, Sophie. You gotta believe me.” Calum assured her and he wasn’t lying.

Sophie didn’t want to ask, but she did anyway. “What if I can’t believe you, Cal?”

“Then you’re gonna be the one breakin’ my heart. Not the other way around,” Calum laughed sadly and shook his head. “When I showed up, she was drunk and she tried to kiss me, tried to talk me into sleeping with her, but I told her no. And when I told her I was with you she got jealous and told me to crash on the couch and be gone when she woke up. Nothing happened, Soph, I swear to God,” Calum sighed and bent down so they were eye to eye again. He took her face in his hands and licked his lips. “You’re all I want. I don’t want anybody else but you.”

“Calum,” Sophie tried to interrupt him, tried to tell him that she believed him because she was the desperation and the sincerity in his eyes, but he kept talking, kept rambling. He was nervous, maybe even a little bit scared, and Sophie could tell.

“And I know I’m not good at relationships, but I’m tryin’ here, and I want to prove Ashton wrong so fuckin’ badly, because I’m not goin’ to break your heart, baby.” Sophie couldn’t help but smile at Calum’s confession and she knew that she could trust him. Hell, she did trust him with everything. “And I know I should have asked you this a while ago, but will you, finally and officially, be my girlfriend? Please?”

Sophie rolled her eyes at the man in front of her but nodded her head and pressed her lips against his in a light and quick kiss. “Yes, Calum. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Sophie swore she had never seen Calum smile so widely before, his pearly white teeth on full display and the little crinkles by the sides of his eyes, and she knew that it was her new favorite sight. She knew that she would do anything to see it.

❋ ❋ ❋

Taglist: @wrappedaroundcal @roselukes @hereforlukescruff @plainwhiteluke @astroashtonio @catchinqcalum @irwinkitten @irwinvalentines @mistletoemichael @youmaycallmemrshemmings @musicsavedme-00 @complete-trash-101 @jupitergranger @mysteriouslycali @lex-micole @sincerelycalum @calistheloml @kaxseychill @calteahood @mermaid-merrick @verybelowaverage @forggetablle @ihatemyself21 @rexorangecouny @alotof1dlove @dionnealberts @turtlenecktgc @nipplyportman @lauwenrodriguez @uncrowned-cal @ghstofcalum @cliffordcntrl @xx-cuddlemecalum-xx @it-was-a-lie @therainydays4 @booklove-2 @pattys-got-cakes @mpadge33 @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @buddhas-princess @nostalgia-luke @tothemoonwithclifford @hopelessxcynic @dannisos @calpalbby @thebodaciouscth @blue-skies-are-alright @90s-good-vibes @sugarcoatedcalum @crystalisinfinite @toofadedtofight @girlstalkreality @rosesfromcth @parkerspicedlatte @rip-lukes-balsamic @miahelizaaabeth @wcstethenightt @mixedfeeelings @isabella-mae13 @antisocialbandmate @ohhmuke @absolute-moody

177 notes · View notes

asroarke · 7 years

Photo

Those of you who follow my shenanigans regularly already know that I hit one million words on ao3 last night. Today, I’m kicking off my celebration by highlighting every single one of those one million words as I shamelessly self promote all 24 works that got me to this number.

Matched

“If this ends badly, I blame you.”

“I got you onto one of the most popular dating shows on TV where they basically guarantee that they’ll find your soulmate. If this ends badly, it’s on you, sweetheart,” her mom snapped back with a smile.

Reality Show AU where everyone has a perfect match in the house and if everyone finds their perfect match by the end, they win one million dollars.

Rated: M | Chapters: 18/18 | Words: 78,309

Mismatched

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” Clarke whispered, knowing what happens if you’re a perfect match on this show. They were going to have to pack up and move into the honeymoon suite… together. She would have to spend eight weeks trapped in a hotel room with Bellamy.

“We hate each other,” Bellamy whispered, not taking his eyes off the screen, as his face was covered in disbelief.

An alternative version of Matched where Bellamy and Clarke find out they’re a perfect match toward the beginning of the competition.

Rated: E | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 27,032

Medici Magic

“Are we really going to do this again this summer?”

“Are you referring to me giving you legitimate critiques and you not being able to handle it correctly? Because if so, I really hope not. I would have hoped that we had evolved past that kind of pettiness,” he joked.

Renaissance Fair AU where our favorite delinquents spend their summer working for Medici Magic, a traveling renaissance fair.

Rated: E | Chapters: 33/33 | Words: 90,249

Wrecked

She looked out into the water, wondering where Wells’ lifeboat was, and if everyone else had gotten to safety in time. She wondered if the crew radioed for help before they jumped onto the lifeboat.

And she wondered if she was going to die on this lifeboat.

Deserted Island AU where deadly storms and dangerous wildlife were the least of their problems.

Rated: E | Chapters: 20/20 | Words: 91,319

I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway

“Why did you come over here?”

“To make sure, you know, that you know last night was just a one-time thing,” he said, looking down at his hands as he spoke.

“Message received. You can go back to your friends now,” she said, with a strange expression on her face.

Modern AU inspired by the show You’re the Worst, where Bellamy and Clarke hook up after a wedding.

Rated: E | Chapters: 11/11 | Words: 65,537

I’m Gonna Watch You Walk Away

She forgot about the fact that a man she loved just married someone else. She forgot that almost all her friends abandoned her as soon as she became known as the other woman. She forgot that people already judged her without ever meeting her. She forgot that she was in a place in life where she had to go to weddings all alone. And she willfully ignored the fact that it was becoming harder and harder for her to just hook up with someone to forget these things.

Because, as soon as it was over, all those horrible thoughts started drowning Clarke’s brain again.

Modern AU inspired by the show You’re the Worst, where Bellamy and Clarke hook up after wedding. Same story line from I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway, but this time from Clarke’s POV.

Rated: E | Chapters: 11/11 | Words: 64,519

We Can Do Better Than This

“And if we couldn’t find an apartment, maybe we could look at a house. You know, then Cleo could have a backyard,” Bellamy replied.

“A house?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy glanced back down at her, seeing a nervous expression on her face. He immediately recognized his mistake.

A follow up to I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway, where Bellamy and Clarke buy their first house.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 4,881

I’m Gonna Love You Anyway

“You were a one-night stand.”

“You and I bought a house together, Clarke. If I was supposed to be a one-night stand, you really messed that one up,” he teased, before leaning down to kiss her forehead.

She giggled, before resting her head on his shoulder. It was kind of crazy to think about the day they met. It was weird, thinking that if she had gotten what she wanted back then, she would have hooked up with him once and never seen him again. She was really glad she didn’t get what she wanted. Instead, she got what she needed.

A follow up to I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway, where Bellamy is trying to propose to Clarke, but she’s too busy roasting him to notice.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 6,595

No Longer Just Us

“Princess, Octavia and Lincoln are here,” he announced.

“Why?” she grumbled, and Bellamy threw his head back. Of course, Clarke forgot. This had become an all too common occurrence these days.

“We are wine tasting for the wedding, remember?” Bellamy reminded her, and Clarke sat up with a grumpy expression on her face, her hair messy from bedhead. She had come home from work two hours ago, a bit sleep deprived since one of her patients went into labor in the middle of the night. She immediately went upstairs to take a nap, after Bellamy reminded her for the hundredth time that Lincoln and Octavia were coming over.

“I already took my bra off,” she whined, throwing her head back.

Another follow up to I’m Gonna Leave You Anyway where Bellamy and Clarke are completely over the wedding planning nonsense and get very drunk.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,855

Double Infinity

They were running out of time. Eighteen years had already passed. All the pieces they needed to get the job done were finally in place. And, when Wells didn’t fit, they found Clarke. He was too close to let it all fall apart now.

And he would do everything he could to make sure she walked out of this unscathed.

Modern AU inspired by Revenge, where Bellamy and Octavia are willing to do whatever it takes to find justice for their mother’s murder, even if it means using Clarke Griffin.

Rated: E | Chapters: 23/23 | Words: 142,705

Hidden Infinity

"You played me too, Clarke,” Bellamy snapped, and she didn’t hesitate to slap him across the face. He gripped her wrist tightly, shooting her a warning look… practically daring her to try that again. “You knew what I was doing, and instead of confronting me, you let me think I was succeeding. When I said I loved you, you said it back. When I proposed, you said yes. You had an active part in all of this,” he growled as if somehow what Clarke did to him could ever compare to what he did to her.

“But you played me first,” Clarke yelled, pushing him back. Bellamy lied to her first. Bellamy used her first. Clarke didn’t start this, but she was determined to finish it.

Double Infinity, but from Clarke’s POV. A Modern AU inspired by Revenge, where Clarke Griffin swore that she would stay out of the plan to avenge Mt. Weather, but got dragged into it anyway.

Rated: E | Chapters: 11/23 | Words: 58,914

Something Always Survives

Bellamy had been trapped in this place for over two years. He can’t even count how many cellmates he lost over that time, how many times he had to meet a new voice from a person he would never see… And, almost every time, he found himself telling them a story to help calm them down, to reassure them that everything was going to be okay, even when he knew it would never be okay. Clarke had been no different than the others until this moment.

She was the first one to ever try to comfort him in return. So, he whispered, “Okay,” and pressed his ear to the corner.

Modern AU loosely inspired by The OA where Clarke finds herself abducted and caged with four strangers as they all struggle to make sense of their captor’s experiments.

Rated: E | Chapters: 18/18 | Words: 74,232

50 First Proposals

“Tell her we got engaged just so we could get some cheesecake,” he smirked, and accepting the challenge, Clarke pulled out her phone and started typing away.

After that night, it just became a thing they did. Every month or so… really, whenever both of their crazy lives let them grab dinner between shifts, they would go to a new restaurant and Bellamy would fake propose. He got a little more carried away each time. Their fake proposals became an opportunity for Bellamy to unleash some of his most pent up affections for Clarke… an opportunity he desperately needed.

OR the forty-nine times Bellamy proposed to Clarke to get free dessert and the one time he didn’t care about the dessert.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,723

Will You Tie My Shoe?

“I know, it’s silly. And I never thought I’d actually see you again, or that Madi would recognize you. She’s also convinced that she is some kind of matchmaker because she set my friends Raven and Wells up,” she rambled, looking at him with an embarrassed expression on his face.

“Is your daughter some kind of matchmaker?” he teased, and Clarke bit her lip, chuckling slightly. He liked the way her smile kept escaping even though she was trying to play it cool.

“Well, unless you fall madly in love with me, she only has a 50% success rate,” she joked, and Bellamy threw his head back in laughter.

OR the one where Madi decides to play matchmaker, and Bellamy and Clarke are totally fine with the results.

Rated: G | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 3,905

Sometimes Lightning Strikes Twice

It was ridiculous. He didn’t even know this girl’s name. All he knew was that she was pretty, that she was trying her best to be a good sport about being here probably just so her friends had fun, and that she was maybe a little bit shy. Well, and he also knew that every time she looked at him he got flustered and repeatedly messed up the blocking.

It was official. Bellamy Blake, part-time stripper and full-time overthinker, developed a crush on some blonde bride.

OR the Strip Club AU no one asked for, where Bellamy meets Clarke Griffin while working her bachelorette party, and the poor guy doesn’t have the first clue about what to do about it.

Rated: M | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,557

Sounds Fake But Okay

“Babe, don’t be jealous,” Clarke teased, reaching her hand out. Murphy grabbed it and started swinging it as he laughed.

“Can’t help it, babe. Just love you so much,” Murphy said, still chuckling.

“You two better be able to keep a straight face when Ontari gets here, or else all of us suffered through this for nothing,” Bellamy reminded, and Clarke erupted into laughter, burying her face into Bellamy’s shoulder.

OR the fake dating fic no one asked for, where Murphy pretends to be dating Clarke, and Bellamy is fine with it. Totally fine. Does not care at all. Maybe.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 4,766

Fatal Innocence

“I’ll be fine,” she muttered, shaking her head as she opened the front door. And, there the body was, right where it fell. The others rushed in behind her. Raven took the trophy toward the kitchen, probably to wash it off. Monty and Bellamy moved toward the body, and she could see that Bellamy was thinking about using the rug to wrap him up in.

There was no way in hell that all five of them were going to get away with this.

The How to Get Away with Murder AU where they all become interns for Professor Kane, not expecting their semester to take such a deadly turn.

Rated: E | Chapters: 25/25 | Words: 184,868

Don’t Marry Him

Bellamy tried to be as supportive of a friend as he could be, reserving his own frustrations toward Finn for when he, Murphy, and Miller went out for drinks. Usually, those evenings divulged into Murphy pointing out that Finn probably isn’t as bad as Bellamy makes him out to be. Then, Bellamy would break down item by item every terrible thing he has said or done to hurt Clarke. To which, Miller would always tease him… saying that it was strange that Bellamy could list all that off so readily when Clarke was just his best friend.

Bellamy knew what they were implying, of course. And it was to the point that Bellamy stopped trying to deny it. It wouldn’t do him any good to deny it, anyway. Everyone knew how Bellamy felt. Well, everyone except Clarke, apparently.

Modern AU where Clarke was hoping that Bellamy would be excited about her engagement, and instead, he begs her not to marry Finn.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 5,291

Forget Me Not

“Am I Clarke?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy’s fear was confirmed. Clarke didn’t remember them. She didn’t recognize any of them, not even Madi. She didn’t even know that she was Clarke. He could feel Madi tugging nervously on his sleeve, and he turned to look at her scared face.

“It’s called amnesia,” Bellamy whispered, and Madi’s head tilted in confusion. “Sometimes when people hit their head really hard they lose their memories.”

Post Season Four reunion fic where Bellamy finally finds Clarke… but she doesn’t remember who he is.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 8,684

Off Guard

“You have to figure out your opponent’s weakness if you want to beat them,” he added in, and Clarke cocked her head to the side. He could see the gears turning in that head of hers as she stepped toward him. “Unfortunately for you, I have no weaknesses,” he joked, and a giggle escaped her lips.

“So, there is absolutely nothing I can do that would catch you off guard?” she asked curiously, and Bellamy cocked his head to the side… trying to figure out what was going through Clarke’s head.

“You are more than welcome to try,” he chuckled, earning a smirk from Clarke.

Royalty AU where Bellamy tries to teach Clarke how to use a sword, and she finds her own sneaky way to beat him.

Rated: G | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 2,548

Whisper Your Love and I’ll Whisper Mine

“I am not happy about this either, by the way,” he sighed, recalling the horrified look on her face when she realized what the Commander was proposing. Bellamy had never planned on getting married. Octavia was enough of a responsibility. But when he debated the idea of marriage, he certainly never pictured his future fiancée would have such a disgusted reaction. Nor did he ever picture himself marrying a child of his family’s sworn enemy.

Clarke glanced up at him, wiping away a few tears. “We should have never let them marry,” was all she said, and the guilt formed a knot in Bellamy’s stomach.

A historical AU inspired by Still Star-Crossed where Bellamy and Clarke are forced into an arranged marriage in an attempt keep their families from going to war.

Rated: E | Chapters: 8/8 | Words: 47,895

Listen to Your Heart

His lips lingered against her skin for just a moment too long, and Clarke noticed that his hug was even tighter than it normally was. She kept reminding herself that this was the Olympics… and that’s all this meant for him, although she could no longer deny that her feelings toward Bellamy were strictly platonic.

“So damn proud of you, Princess,” Bellamy said seriously, his hand still resting on her back as he spoke. Before Clarke could say anything else, Kane was pulling her into a hug and whispering his congratulations.

Olympics AU where Clarke realizes that her feelings for Bellamy might be less than platonic… which is a problem since he’s her coach.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 8,609

Love Is Not a Victory March

“You could have been here four years ago,” she reminded, raising her eyebrows at him.

“No, I couldn’t have. I needed to be here with you,” he replied, and Clarke felt like the breath had been knocked out of her. It wasn’t the first time he said something like that, of course. But it caught her off guard every damn time.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Yes, you were,” he replied, and how could Clarke not kiss him after that?

Olympics AU where a knee injury kept Bellamy and Clarke from making it to the Olympics… the first time around.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 9,214

Lie to Me

Long before he met Gina, he decided that this name didn’t mean anything. That he had a choice in this, and that he would likely choose to ignore the universe’s choice for him. After all, there were many people who went their whole happy lives without finding the person whose name showed up when they turned eighteen.

He kept his eyes on his watch, counting down the seconds until it would appear. As soon as both hands hit twelve, he flipped his wrist over. But he wasn’t lucky enough to get some stranger’s name. He knew exactly who his soulmate was.

If Bellamy needed any more evidence that soulmates were bullshit, it was right there in front of him.

Soulmate AU where Bellamy finds out Clarke is his soulmate and doesn’t tell her.

Rated: T | Chapters: 1/1 | Words: 13,880

#bellarke fanfiction #self promo #alex's 1M celebraish #the 100 fanfiction #fic recs #also i've never actually made a full list of all my work so i figured now was the time #asroarke fanfiction

64 notes · View notes

reptilerach · 7 years

Text

“Rejection”; Chapter Twenty-Six

NOTES:

Thank you for the congratulations, Anon. And even more importantly- thanks for smacking a fist of “get off your lazy procrastinatin’ ass and update your freakin’ story pls love ya!” into me. xD

Also, some cursing in this chapter. Not a whole lot, but it’s still pretty sailor-y.

________________________________________________________________

“No. No, Sans. Anything but tickling. Please. Please!” You begged, and he laughed darkly. You were too worried that he’d kill you with your extremely sensitive sides to recognize any true humor in his tone. “ooo, i found your weak spot, huh?”

He leaned over his bed and set the phone on the table where his nightshade stood. He turned his attention back to you, and a blue spark crackled from his eye. You wanted to scream; if someone even poked your side, you would shoot up 10 feet into the air. You haven't been tickled in years; mainly because everyone knows that one does not simply try to touch the (Y/N). “Sans. I beg of you. Please! I'll do anything!” You cried, and he retracted his hands that were mid-air.

He smirked devilishly, and placed his hands in his pocket. He gave you a sideways look, and raised his non existent eyebrows. “anything?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. As soon as you did, you took it back. You weren't willing to do anything- you just thought people who had a heart would accept the proposal of mercy and let them go. But then again… Sans was a skeleton.

He didn't technically have a heart.

“S-Sans?” You stuttered, and his eye sockets darkened to a pitch black. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and you didn’t want to stick around to find out. Using sheer brainpower, you focused real hard on your chest that was being held against its will. A crack sounded within your eardrums, and at first you thought it was only yourself. But when you opened your eyes, Sans was staring with a horrified expression.

He had his palms held up in front of him, glancing back and forth between them and you. You tried to sit up, and somehow- you succeeded. You weren’t being held back anymore; you were free. Without wasting a second, you spun around and did a little maneuver that you were taught by your teacher back in middle school. You sprang up into the air, and ripped away one of Sans’ hands from his face.

You pulled his arm down towards the bed, and twisted your body so that he fell through the air and you were the one in control again. He still said nothing; you smirked at your victory. You know you done good when you made the smartass skeleton shut up and need a moment to recollect his bearings. He lay there, pinned to his own mattress, dumbfounded. His eye fizzled out pathetically, stunned by the sudden trick that you just tried out at that second with no practice before hand.

Honestly, you would have been more shocked with your reflexes and how you managed to break free from his strong magic in the first place; but you were panting and unaware of what to do next. You chuckled, and broke the unusual silence from the monster. “Looks like the tides have changed. But as you were saying…?” You were so happy with yourself, you didn’t even care how close your face was to his skull yet again.

Starstruck, Sans continued to say nothing. He had no idea what happened. One minute, he was in control with you begging for mercy. Then he was the one with the broken magic and interrogated? His soul urged for him to reply with a good comeback, but his head refused. It couldn’t comprehend what the human just did; because no one has ever done it before.

She overpowered his magic with her own, and tore away from his infamous soul-grab technique.

Appearing as though her little muse was over, she let Sans go and got to her feet. Brushing off her hands on her pants, she sighed and chuckled to herself again. “Would ya look at that. I’ve silenced the Almighty Sans. Guess that’s quite the feat, huh?” She placed her hands on her hips, and pushed her big, nerdy glasses up. “I’ll be downstairs with the gang. See what they wanna do next tonight.”

And with that, she strolled out of the room and shut the door courteously for the astounded skeleton still lying on his mattress. He listened to her footsteps fall downstairs, and her laughter ring out throughout the house at something that Undyne said. Sans sat up from his bed, staring at her phone across the room, deep in wonder.

***

You rushed down the wooden stairs from Sans’ room and threw yourself onto the couch. Papyrus was nearly crushed, and Undyne barked out a fit of laughter. Alphys scolded at you to be more careful, but you just rubbed her head in response. She smiled, and wiggled her eyebrows. “You seem awfully happy. Did something happen…?” She asked, raising her pitch at the end of her sentence to secretly imply something.

You blushed a little, and shook your head. “Nah. I simply asked Sans a few questions as to why he changed all the names in my contacts list.” You weren’t exactly lying, but you weren’t telling the full truth, either. Alphys made a “mm-hmm” noise under her breath, and Undyne bared her teeth. “What’d the trashbag do? What’s our names now?!” You reached for your phone in your pocket, but remembered you left it upstairs.

Dammit. He was distracting me too much. You shrugged, and laid your legs over Papyrus’s lap where he’d started observing the firm muscle on your bones. “Dunno. He still has my phone. But knowing him, he probably changed your name to some sort of pun about fish. Like, ‘F.S.H’; get it? Because it’s missing an ‘i’?” You burst out laughing, and Papyrus chuckled along even though it was kinda mean.

Undyne scrunched up her face in anger, and swung a clenched fist in the air. “YOU PROBABLY HELPED HIM MAKE THAT ONE UP!” You kept laughing, and a snort came out of Alphys’ nose. “You don’t scare me Undyne.” You teased her, and brought a finger up to your eyelid and pulled it down in an offensive, anime way. Alphys squealed at the little reference, and you gave her a wink.

Undyne jumped to her feet, and stomped over to you. Papyrus stuck out an arm, and pushed her shoulder away from beating the shit outta you. On the outside, you pulled a “Sans” and remained calm. On the inside, you were terrified as images of Undyne the Undying flew through your brain. How she melted and her determination to live past death crumbled away as Chara- a.k.a. you- dodged all of her infamous spear attacks.

“Is that a challenge, punk?! Do you wanna fucking go?!” She swore, and Papyrus yelled at her to watch her language. You snickered, and nodded. “Sure. Why not?” The place where her nostrils would have been flared up and down rapidly; the gills on her neck fluctuated in and out with rage. She slammed a fist down on the table beside her, breaking the heavy wooden table clean in half. Papyrus uttered out a cry of defeat, and was on the verge of tears.

Alphys ran over, comforting him. “I’ll make sure to get you a new one, Papyrus.” She rubbed his shoulder pad armor, while Undyne laughed maniacally. “Alright!! A human that isn’t a total wimp! What shall it be?! I’ll even let you get to pick, since I’m naturally good at everything athletic.” You wagged a finger at her, and even tsked her daringly.

“Oh, Undyne. I already know that. So I’m going to challenge you to a match of chess.” Her rambunctious glare dropped immediately, the blue spear she’d summoned in her hand (you had no idea when that got there) faded into nothing. “Uh...what?” She stood up straight, and Alphys gasped. Frisk never negotiated; they only agreed with a newfound determination to win at whatever was thrown in their way.

Papyrus wasn’t sad anymore, and asked Undyne’s question for her. “HUMAN...HOW DO I SAY THIS WITHOUT BEING RUDE? HMM… OH!” He paused for emphasis, and took in a deep breath. Then out of nowhere he screamed, “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” You gave him a lazy smile, one so big it could rival his brother’s. “Nope, I’m (Y/N).”

He flipped the broken table pieces in front of him, and shrieked with fury. Undyne took ahold of your shirt, and raised you high into the air above her. Alphys tugged at her jeans to put you down, but Undyne ignored her. “I think you’re just being a coward! You’ve barely even been in the Underground for more than a few days; how in the world would you know if you were going to lose?!”

You knew you couldn’t answer that question; only Sans knew the answer to that, and he’s the only one who ever will. You had to come up with an excuse right on the dot, which was something you weren’t normally very good at. But, by God’s Grace, it hit you. “When I first fell into the Ruins, I met Frisk. She told me all about you and your amazing athletic capabilities. So why fight a battle when you know you’re going to lose?”

Undyne bit her lip, and thought hard. Then she snapped back to life with as much energy as ever. Papyrus was still running around the living room with his hands flailing up into the air like a beheaded goose. “Determination! And hope! You rely on those traits to help you get through the battle! And believe me when I say that those will get you far in a place like this; the kid befriended every monster in the entire Underground within a week just with hope and determination alone! Even me!”

You looked around the room, realizing what you were about to say was really depressing and incomprehensible to her. “What if none of that mattered? What if your fate was already predetermined by mysterious beings with a power that you would never be able to understand?” She looked more confused than ever, and set you down. “Huh?” Her red hair flew about wildly, and Alphys finally managed to take ahold of Papyrus’s sanity once again.

Bags suddenly grew around your eyes, and you continued rambling. “What would be the point to doing or believing in anything anymore? Why even try?” You realized that you had sounded just like Sans; you covered your mouth with your hands in surprise and a little fear. Undyne stared at you as if you had three heads; maybe there was even a glimpse of concern in her gaze. “(Y/N), what are you talking about? Life isn’t predetermined like some sort of...of...video game! It’s always changing, and anything can happen!”

You looked back up at her, and listened to her words. “In life, you always have to make the best out of it. And that means taking chances! Risking all you got just to try out something new.” She laid a hand on your shoulder, smiling genuinely. She no longer seemed angry. “And if that is what you wish, I will take on your challenge at a chess match! Be prepared to lose, because I’m gonna have Alphy teach me everything about it and how I’m gonna beat you!”

She jabbed a thumb into your skin, laughing proudly. Alphys blushed in a corner where she was nearly finished with calming Papyrus down upon hearing Undyne’s words of praise. You chuckled half-heartedly, and nodded. “That’s what you think. But one lesson I’ve learned lately is that you can’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

FIRST

Chapter Ten (Where all the chapters before that are)

Chapter Twenty (Links for Chapters 11 --> 19)

Chapter Thirty (Links for Chapters 21 --> 29)

72 notes · View notes

spoofenshmirtz · 7 years

Text

alright. ok. i’ve calmed down enough to talk about drv3 now. definitely a lot of spoilers under the cut so don’t even think about looking if you care about spoilers

overall impression: holy fuck.

just. holy fuck.

alright, for real, the game starts off really fuckin’ good with a super strong ch1. the “the killer was you all along” reveal as well as protag switch was done SUPER well, the hints sprinkled throughout the chapter that kaede had something going on immediately fit together like pieces of a puzzle. i also really liked that the layout on the student handbook immediately changed with the protag switch, something i only noticed because i’m a spastic saver. it was really good and i understand now why kodaka’s been so proud of it for so long, stating it’s his favorite case that he’s written so far. it was really well done and i was delighted.

then, chapters 2 and 3 were kind of... less satisfying. i don’t know if i’m just slow and didn’t really understand the reasoning behind everything, but the culprit reveals kinda fell short and their motivations were... less interesting than any other culprit’s. i did think it was funny how obviously there was gonna be a locked-room mystery in ch3, what with the sudden access to a room that could only be locked from the inside, but it was kind of easy to figure out. i will say that the only execution that had me in tears was kirumi’s, for the simple reason that she TRIED SO HARD and her struggles were rendered completely meaningless when it turned out the outside world she struggled so hard to reach wasn’t accessible. it seriously pained me to watch someone who tried so hard not be able to reach their goal, for some reason. it really affected me.

ch4 really picked it up again, though. i really felt for gonta who had to accept that he’d committed a crime that he had no memory of. i think it might even be my favorite case of the entire game. it’s also the case that really solidified kokichi’s place as my favorite character in the game. it’s ALSO the case where i feel like the lying gimmick was done the best, since in every trial there is at least one point where you’re required to lie, and the previous lies had kind of fallen short imo. ch1 did it alright enough - i don’t really remember the lie you were required to tell anymore, tbh - but in ch2 and 3 it kinda felt like the game was trying to make you feel bad for telling a lie you were required to tell. i didn’t take any of the opportunities to lie willingly, mostly because my brain isn’t wired to figure out where lying would work or not and figuring out the truth is just the easiest way to solve things for me, so i don’t know if the game treats you the same in those cases or not, but when the game’s just pointing at you like “haha you lied! and everyone believed you!! don’t you feel bad??” it just doesn’t hit home imo. but in ch4, where you’re lying about kokichi’s lie to his face, it just feels so SATISFYING. like, this is the character whose lies have been twisting everything around all the time, and using his own lie against him that way just feels good. like, kokichi, i love you, but come on.

ch5 was interesting in its own way, too. your own theories on what happened kept getting thrown around throughout the trial in a way that made you doubt the truth up until you actually saw it for yourself - that kaito survived and that kokichi was the victim - and the conclusion was satisfying in its own way like that. i also really liked kaito’s execution, what with him dying before it’s actually finished. it was a sort of bittersweet moment; on one hand, it’s sad that he died, but on the other, it was a great victory that he died before the execution was finished, thus beating monokuma at his own game... kind of?

ch6...

ch6.

i just beat it and i honestly still don’t know what to think.

on one hand, the entire last trial was RAVING. INSANE. i’m only feeling so drained right now because it was so crazy. i’m really glad my flatmate left so she wouldn’t have to be exposed to my bouts of crazed laughter over just how absurd everything is.

on the other, what the fuck? what? how? who gave you the right

for serious, that ending was so weird and unexpected. i mean, it’s brilliant? but i’m also still extremely lost in all the lies and truths and what’s real and what’s not.

like, i’m just. i don’t know. it’s so crazy i can barely put it into words.

for starters, i’d kind of jokingly thought to myself stuff like “what if tsumugi’s the mastermind, wouldn’t that be crazy”, but i never.... actually..... expected it. to happen. it was just so totally and completely out of nowhere, but still made perfect sense. so revealing her as, actually, the mastermind just kinda... broke me? and i just sat there laughing at the ceiling for probably a solid minute.

second, acknowledging danganronpa as fiction just.... wow. i never, ever, in my wildest dreams, would have expected that. like i can’t BELIEVE kodaka did that. it’s GENIUS but i never would’ve expected it.

third, JUNKO. KODAKA. SERIOUSLY. YOU JUST FUCKING HAD TO. people have been joking about this sort of shit for YEARS and you just UP AND FUCKING DO IT.

but, okay. the insane points isn’t what really gets to me. it’s the LIES. the knowledge that EVERYTHING’S BEEN A LIE. or, has it? how much is lies and how much is the truth? i already figured in ch5 that the flashback lights may not contain the truth. at least when everyone started thinking that kokichi was a remnant of despair. i didn’t believe it for a second, mostly because my understanding of the nature of the remnants of despair has been that they’re a leaderless group, only kept together by the common desire to spread despair and carry out junko’s will.

so, the personalities and memories of all the characters were all lies. right? everything they were was part of their new, written, fictional personalities that they received through the fake memories from the flashback lights, right? the world of danganronpa is fictional, right?

i think i lost my train of thought. i swear i was going somewhere with this, but the lies are still twisting around in my brain.

actually, maybe i can figure out something from this. tsumugi’s comment on being a “cosplaycat criminal” just really bothers me. my overall impression’s been so far that people in dr are the most genuine when death is almost upon them, which leads me to believe that maybe, maybe there is something behind that comment. since it’s one of her last lines before getting executed by keebo. it’s been a pattern i’ve noticed in many other characters’ deaths, what with junko dropping her cheerful facade seconds before getting crushed to death in dr1 and nagito dying with a fearful expression (which i still continue to interpret as him regretting choosing death for whatever reason, reasons i have multiple theories on but no confirmed answer).

anyway, my personal theory is that tsumugi may be a copycat criminal basing her crime entirely on a fictional setting. inspired by danganronpa, she chose to infiltrate the next season and set up an actual, real killing game within the fictional setting, involving all the previously willing participants. the watchers, made out in-game to be cruel and indulging in despair, may be completely unaware of the fact that the people dying are dying for real.

ok this has gone on long enough. the twist ending was just so twisty, i’m still trying to untangle it in my brain and figure out what’s truth and what’s lies. it’s absolutely brilliant but also so crazy and insane that i can’t really wrap my head around it. hopefully some days’ recovery (and free time events and dating minigames) will put my overheated brain at peace.

long story short, it’s a really good game, but also infinite times more crazy than the previous titles. kodaka’s really gone all out in the “what can i get away with doing” department and it really shows. i can’t help but wonder if kodaka meant for the finale to call out the audience for being cruel and reveling in despair but hey, he’s not wrong so, y’know. also i’ve heard he really got to do stuff he’s dreamed of doing in danganronpa games before, which i suspect is referring specifically to the themes of “you were the killer all along,” the locked room murder (i don’t really think nagito’s murder-suicide in sdr2 counts as it’s pretty clear throughout investigation that his wounds are self-inflicted), a culprit who’s unaware of their own crime and the unknowable victim/culprit. at least those are all themes that i figure must’ve been a lot of fun to come up with and write.

it’s just. it’s crazy and insane but it’s so satisfying. i have started considering the sdr2 ending to be a bit anticlimactic, what with the whole “everybody lives” message (which feels cruel when you consider that the deaths in the first killing game, where the participants just happened to be involved, really died, while the participants in the second killing game, who were all followers of junko, were allowed to live), but this ending is just... mad. three survivors out of 16 and an open conclusion, similar to the conclusion of dr1, where you don’t really get to see what the outside world is like at all.

okay i seriously need to stop rambling i don’t even know what i’m talking about anymore. i very much enjoyed my time with this game, is the bottom line. i’m gonna make a screenshot compilation of some of my favorite screenshots now, probably

#i still cant quite wrap my head around wtf i just experienced but holy fuck #spoovy's thoughts #dangblogging

2 notes · View notes

yoolee · 7 years

Text

On experience, consent, and writing fanfiction

Like a thousand years ago I made a post acknowledging that I tend to write the SLBP MC as somewhat inexperienced about physical shenanigans. I HAD MORE THOUGHTS an entire 7 page friggen 3700 word discourse on this subject – aka, experience, consent, writing and fiction and our influences, enjoying what we enjoy, etc.

I literally don’t expect anyone to read or respond to this, it was mostly an exercise in explaining my thoughts to myself (I am a TEXTBOOK INTP y’all, and all that stuff about “people with the INTP personality type tend to share thoughts that are not fully developed, using others as a sounding board for ideas and theories in a debate against themselves rather than as actual conversation partners.” ME.)

And it’s gonna come across weird probably BUT IT WAS USEFUL to me in clarifying stuff in my head and I’m posting it mostly because I can. I know y’all come here for the fics not the thought process and I’m 100% cool with that. Wrote this for my own brain, you can read or wait for the next fic TOTALLY COOL EITHER WAY. ABBREVIATED VERSION:

People have different life experiences and levels of interest and they are all okay! (and Voltage? Maybe mix it up a little XD)

People have different levels of confidence with different people at different times in their lives, and this is all okay!

You deserve to be with someone who goes out of their way to help you feel confident and excited!

You should also do your best to make your partner feel confident and excited, if and when you choose to have one!

GET AND GIVE CONSENT! Always! Multiple times during the process if you sense or hear ANYTHING resembling ‘no’, ‘stop’, or ‘wait’!

USE PROTECTION! When appropriate!

We write, read, and enjoy what we know and what comes easily!

That does not always mean it reflects what would be safe and healthy in the real world, and I think that is 100% okay if you recognize and acknowledge that and don’t normalize it with your writing!

All of this factors in to how yoolee writes MCs and fics in her random-as-hell rambly way of doing things!

· ALSO I LOVE YOU ALL, carry on.

A LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THE SUBJECT:

Writing this with fem!MC because that’s all I have written so far, mileage may vary as that changes. Except on consent, all of the consent, everywhere!

On Experience, and the MC not having much

1.) It’s something I think is character-specific, and for whatever reason I just tend to write for the ones that this seems more likely for even though it’s not my headcanon for all of them Let’s take Saizo, for example. His POV’s are littered with references to MC’s innocence. Can you be innocent and experienced—YES, YOU CAN, but I’m a lazy writer and also see point 5 below if you want which will explain more about his particular case. With Yukimura, it’s just funnier if MC is (almost) as clueless as he obviously is and you’ll actually see that I flip around with Shigezane if I ever post my next fic with him, because I can see him with MCs all across the experience/comfort spectrum. And—pro tip—you can slide on that spectrum, folks. You can be inexperienced and confident, experienced and confident, experienced and not confident, and also next time be a little less or more confident, maybe it’s a bad time of week, idk, it depends on your mood and how people have treated you and hormones and other factors. Now, Kojuro’s MC, she feels confident to me and I love that. She is absolutely, in my headcanons, going to pull him into a linen closet, have her way, and not blush overmuch about it. Regardless of her experience level when they start, which is still probably going to be less than his just from an age-and-time-to-get-experience perspective, she is going to throw herself in with enthusiasm and catch up with confidence. Yasu’s I picture as somewhere in the middle, and, like Yukkin, he and MC are going to be similar in that respect. He’s going to want to initiate sometimes and sometimes he’s going to just need some affection and sweetness and same is true for MC and they are going to muddle the hell of their way through. Inuchiyo’s MC? Inexperienced but not going to be embarrassed about it. If anything, she’s going to tell him he doesn’t tell her she’s pretty often enough. We all know he thinks she is the most gorgeous creature on earth without hyperbole bless you Toshiie you do not get enough love in this fandom some of that may be that REALLY BAD MOMENT in your story and some iffy writing choices all around in that route that I’ll get to on point 3 but I appreciate you recognize what you did and try really, really really hard to make up for it which is why I love you anyway And then we have Masa who I feel like is a very occasional thing. The physical is a small detail in a greater emotional connection, and if I wrote them, the focus would definitely be emotion (Shingen, conversely, would be physical, with emotional highlights either before or after but less pertinent during).

On the idea of experience situated in context:

2.) It’s also world/story-specific – what I feel like works in SLBP-verse drives me friggin insane in modern-based apps I would NOT write Liar!’s MC the way I write SLBP’s. And I friggin love Liar’s! MC. I SO APPRECIATE when our modern MC’s are not quite as, er, flutteringly virginal? MC being so works in SLBP for me, in part because—especially as an outsider to Japanese history, to my regret—it feels like fairy-tale and legend and myth to me, and the one-love destiny narrative fits my culturally-indoctrinated feelings about those kinds of stories (thaaaanks Disney). This thing that I write and see in SLBP stories, that sort of makes me feel soft and aww, drives me batshit crazy in games like KBTBB, MLFK, OTBS, BUM, etc etc. Like, real world, modern women have a much wider variety of experience and inexperience than, everyone’s-still-a-virg-by-their-first-real-job. Are some folks? Yes. Are ALL folks? No. Is one better than the other? OF COURSE NOT, I just like variety. THAT SAID I know players of the games skew on the younger side and when I remember that I’m much more okay with keeping MC innocent >> Speaking of, in general, I tend to picture the SLBP MC as young. Not inappropriately so, but 18-20 (YES, that is YOUNG for the kind of relationship depth we see in these stories) and writing that age being a little insecure and a lot inexperienced is important for yoolee’s sanity and legality.

On consent 3.) SUPER IMPORTANT OLD AUNTIE LEE ADVICE FOLKS, K? (this is where we get a little preachy but hang with me please, I love you) Youngins, the whole 18+ thing is really, truly, not people just trying to be arbitrarily prudish. Please believe me on this. Both the reading-of and the act, there is legitimate and genuine science backing reasons to wait, and you are going to have your whole life to have fun with that if and when you so choose. And regardless, when and if you do choose to do so, it had better be with someone who is 100% willing to wait until you are comfortable, ready, enthusiastic and excited. You deserve that. Anyone who is not, anyone who makes you feel like it’s a condition to your relationship is not good enough for you period and end of story. AND this goes both ways – don’t pressure your partner, don’t assume based on what media or movie bias tells you is ‘the norm’, and communication is important. If things seem to be headed in that direction and you’re ready, just, check-in and make sure they are too. It’s as simple as ‘are you up for (more/this/etc)’?

If you read my stuff, I hope that you notice that in every fic where the MC says stop, her partner stops. And sometimes even when she doesn’t say it, but expresses some visible or nonverbal hesitation (ie, what is implied to have happened pre-Compliments) there is still a timeout in that moment on the part of her partner. And if you don’t notice that, hopefully it’s because it feels like such a natural and normal part of the flow that it didn’t disrupt your thought process on what you were reading. Why? Because a partner saying ‘stop’ is a clear sign you need to stop and reconfirm consent (yes, you get to change your mind mid-act! Yes, you get to change your mind about something you were comfortable with yesterday and aren’t feeling today! And so does your partner, so you should both be understanding and accepting if there is a ‘stop’ involved or needed) and my feelings that stopping to double-check when you hear stop SHOULD be normal and expected comes out in this sense. What happens in most of my writing? MC gets her moment, decides she’s okay, and they continue. And she deserves that moment. And if she didn’t decide she was okay, fic would have ended.

Is it a little subtle sometimes in my writing? Yes. Saizo in particular will stop but generally doesn’t follow up with verbal affirmation. But I do write with undertones of checking for mutually understood nonverbal signals – verbal is always better, but I do think people (/characters) who have an already committed, longterm and physical relationship are quicker to catch nonverbal go/no-go’s—the consent is still there, just not as loudly spelled out for the reader.

Ironically, the piece of mine where this is most the case is Heights and that is a) my least favorite—and of course it’s my most popular, snrk—and b) one of those cases where I’m writing them as quite a bit of time into this, so there are consent checks, just not straight yes/no questions, BUT DON’T ASSUME IN REAL LIFE OKAY.

Compare Heights (implied, longterm physical and emotional history) with AKoaDK (where it’s clearly spelled out this is definitely a first for a lot of things). In the latter, I think the MC gives consent—nonverbal nodding to questions or requests, or actually explicitly giving a verbal yes or okay—at least FIVE times that I remember off the top of my head in 2000+ words, and that affirmation is important EVERY. TIME. Did you notice? Were you distracted by it? I dunno. Whether you did or were or not, it was there intentionally, and hopefully naturally, because it is that easy to weave in.

On fanfiction and the source material being, well, fiction:

4.) That said, my preference for how I write is not a dictate on how I think others should, nor is it even 100% relevant to what I, personally, like to read. In other words – I feel like the responsibilities as a CONSUMER of content and a CREATOR of content are different. I have a frankly very guilty fondness for some of the fighting-ends-in-a-bed-or-against-a-wall-with-dubious-consent romance novel storylines, and my actual, personal reading preferences tend to skew to rough and straight up problematic themes. And I’m generally pretty comfortable with saying never feel guilty for the stories you want to read, or the stories you want to tell – fiction is a much safer, healthier way of exploring things that in the real world would not be safe, acceptable, healthy, or okay if it were happening to us or others.

I am also not young and not inexperienced XD soooo I have some perspective going into these stories. I also recognize I, personally, have control issues, and see ‘safe exploration’ above. I do think there is some truth, however, to putting what we want to see in the world into the world as content creators.

And I do think that, when we are inexperienced, what we read does shape our perceptions, even knowing that it’s fluffy escapism. And as much as I may personally enjoy some questionable fiction—and write it, depending on your tastes—which probably comes, in some extent, from the media I consumed and was introduced to before I was personally experienced, in which these behaviors were normalized, I like the idea of adding some content into our small little fandom world that helps, subtly or obviously, normalize stop-means-stop and consent as an easy, casual part of the process. My stories where this is less true I probably won’t put out into the world because even though I know where I’m coming from….meh. Just, I’d rather stick to what I put into the world being the way it is. More on the why of that below.

Even doing this, I’m grateful for writers with different tastes, experiences, perspectives and preferences. The rich variety in this fandom is one of the reasons I love it, and I LOVE seeing these other takes on relationships. It would be boring as heck if everyone wrote like me.

On Lee and her life and how that plays into how she writes MC:

5.) Some real-world perspective (aka, we write what we know) – getting back to MC degree of confidence I am, overall, incredibly comfy in my body. I’m exactly average for an American girl weight-wise circa 2010, if not distribution-wise, which means quite a bit heavier than your international average. And I wear a bikini with cheerful and enthusiastic pride, and I’m an ex-ballerina, so I have thought nothing of stripping to my skivvies in thirty seconds with sixteen stagehands around, or getting changed in semi-public places with my 501st friends who are a grab bag of ages and genders. As long as everyone around is 18 or older, I operate on a ‘it’s nothing they haven’t seen before’ scale and I have found that if you don’t make a big deal out of your body and not having clothes on it temporarily, and what it looks like in this state, literally no one else will either. It’s a nasty catch-22 that if you are nervous and fidgety about your muffin-top, and you go out of your way to not draw attention to it, that’s probably exactly what you’re going to do. Own it with confidence and don’t think about it and no one else will either. Not 100% there yet? Fake it until you make it, as they say, and I think you’ll find I’m right, in this case. Another super cool aspect of that? It’s contagious. I don’t know about guys because I’m not one, but I will never forget being 14 in a bikini for the first time and being nervous and my best friend cussing for the first time saying eff it, let’s do this, I like how we look, and I felt like I owned the world. When you see someone enjoying themselves, not caring what others think, sometimes it’s easier for you to do the same – so hey, you can be an inspiration.

NOW WE GET TO TMI TIME FOLKS . I REALLY, REALLY MEAN THAT. I am literally about to allude to my personal sex life, folks, so move along, ye of younger eyes and/or uninclined to want to know about these things. SO. One very, happily, body-positive, confident yoolee, right? Right! And yet! I still to this day get nervy as hell being n with my much-taller than and also much more fit than I boyfriend. It’s a little less each time, but still. Now, my body was like this when we started dating, and remains true, so it’s not like my body being what it is could be any kind of surprise to either of us. And nevermind that he tells me I’m beautiful, and amazing (he does, we actually have a rule he is not allowed to compliment me more than three times in a row because it’s embarrassing—yes, he is super sweet and I am insanely lucky) and has from day one, there’s just something about it that frazzles me. I suspect because, day to day, it’s about making myself happy and I have no problem doing that, but when I’m in a relationship, I want him to be happy too, and him saying he is isn’t the same as me KNOWING I am.

Does that make sense? So yes, I do tend to color MC’s experience with mine here, particularly with some of my character favorites, and there’s some self-insertion here and the canon textual clues to support this always feel like they jump out at me in those stories, even when I blatantly ignore them in others—see Kojuro, above. Also worth noting, boy and I have been together a long time and we still check in, per my last paragraph in the last section. And I’ve said no sometimes, and he has too to certain things. And it’s nbd, we just cuddle and turn on Avengers or something. Life is good with communication, friends.

Triggery stuff And yes, as you can probably infer from my tendency to word vomit on the subject, I have experienced, personally, consent boundary issues on two occasions that ended in nonconsensual encounters. One of them was my first kiss, and some disturbing touching, which was taken from me when I was 13 but a stranger in his forties who followed me at a public event I was volunteering at for four hours, telling me he loved me and how tragic his life was, and was taken in exchange for not stalking me further. The other was jail-time and court-worthy though it didn’t come to that (because of course it didn’t, for other reasons) and the defense offered was directly tied to a perpetuation of media myth (playing hard-to-get, never give up on the dream girl, she’ll love you by the end of the movie, but you were nice to me so I thought) so if it seems like I am putting way too much thought into this, YES. I TOTALLY, COMPLETELY AM but—it does shape how I view this sort of thing—and, specifically, my role in potentially perpetuating ideas in fiction rather more strongly and with more depth than it may have otherwise.

I recognize that both of those encounters, perversely, contribute to the fiction I enjoy in some weird psychological attempt at normalizing what happened in a potentially unhealthy way – I’m sure I’m a textbook case. Because I recognize that, I’m not hard on myself for my preferences. ANYWAY.

These encounters were also, I want to be clear, blips in my life that have not diminished my present health or happiness in any way—they just shape my perspective rather more immediately than it might have been without them.

OKAY IF YOU SKIPPED YOU CAN COME BACK NOW for a sidenote – I am not a professional writer. What you see on this blog is it. I don’t write for anything else unless it’s for work, and that’s not fiction, it’s training on leadership skills and stuff. I have not written fanfiction since like, the fifth Harry Potter book came out. The BOOK, not the movie. That was 2003. That was eighth grade for me. Good lord. And haven’t written fiction in general since one intro to creative writing class sophomore year of undergrad. I got a chemistry degree, folks, I wrote lab reports not romances (okay that would be such a good blog tagline tho) So I DO lean on that ‘what comes easy to me is what I know’ thing. What I don’t know, I google the heck and a half out of, but that’s much easier with the technical than the emotional. Good writers can summon up believable emotion they have not experienced or doesn’t casually interest them enough to imagine, and I still absolutely need practice with that. This is good for me in that sense, but you will notice that for all my talk of variety up above, I tend to write all emotion experienced in these situations pretty similarly. Gonna work on that.

…………………some day I will learn to express my thoughts succinctly. I have a lot of strong feelings about consent and confidence okay. OH THAT REMINDS ME.

On BC:

6.) BIRTH CONTROL TOO, OKAY?

Okay, this is important and yet I don’t write about it much. BUT USE IT EVEN IF I DON’T WRITE ABOUT IT. Except with Saizo, if Iga can make truth serums they can make BC, fight me on that, and of all the samurai I firmly believe he is the one who will not risk MC get with child without a lot of coming to terms with things first, and if you see the MC drinking anything in my writing with him you can safely assume there’s an important powder in there, and if I don’t write it, IT HAPPENS ANYWAY, Little One being the…ironically obvious exception, but my point is that would not have been an accident, but a very, very calculated decision that he is still probably always worried about.

I also don’t think it has as much place in this narrative and story, because, legitimacy issues aside, preventing one, to me, doesn’t feel like it would be as much of a priority for these characters in a we-are-in-a-warzone-and-I-may-never-see-you-again time and place as it would for, say, the Scandal in the Spotlight protags, who reasonably have regular and easy access to modern, easy prevention and a vested reason for using it, namely that they have a lot going on without screaming babies adding to it. SO I may not always write it in but you can generally assume that if I write anything modern, there’s some kind of BC whether that’s chemical or an off-screen.

If a couple is in a long-time, monogamous relationship and they are comfortable with and prepared for, financially, emotionally, etc for the possibility of offspring, different story. Otherwise – prevention, peeps. PREVEEEEENTION.

Okay.

I think that’s it.

This has been a stupidly long PSA from someone who overthinks this fanfiction stuff.

#I don't even know what to tag this #advice from old lady lee? lordy XD

25 notes · View notes

gospacegay · 7 years

Text

Dreams and Possibilities

So... This thing started out as a rusame short and grew like crazy! There is swearing. Get over it. There is mentions of suicide but It’s a very fluffy piece otherwise. Kinda smutty. Enjoy the alternate universe cuteness!

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

The argument during the world meeting had spiraled out of control so fast. Alfred had something, or possibly lack of things that were wrong. Then Russia was on his case, completely angry beyond reason. Totally surprised, the always armed American whipped out a pistol. That was when Ivan took out his pistol, whispering “Nothing but broken promises.” Shocking everyone, he shot himself through the mouth. He then fell to the ground, limp and dead.

Alfred ran over but he knew it was far too late. The angle of the bullet was just too good. It ripped out so much brain matter on the way out, the guy would be retarded as all hell when he inevitably recovered. The living nations were not invulnerable, after all. “He killed himself because of me.” the freckled blond grieved, Ivan's blood still staining the carpet. “I thought you'd be happy, boy.” England replied coldly, having the nerve to kick the corpse on the floor of the meeting room. Everyone gasped at his rude behavior.

“Why would I be happy a defining part of my culture is dead?” America hissed, training the gun on his terrible father figure. “It's just Russia, lad. No need to do anything regrettable...” the English man begged, backing up from the lifeless body. “He taught me how to skate, and ice fish, and sail a boat, and cook pies. He visited me all the time when I was a lonely colony. He was a better role model than you. He knew how to make love, not rut like a sick goat. He was mine.” Alfred spat, advancing with the gun safety off. “But you said, but he just...” The emerald eyed Brit sputtered, crumpling as he was shot between the eyes.

Despair and loss shredded his rational mind. His long time crush and former nemesis had killed himself. Alfred had been so sure they could be friends again. It was nothing like being lovers, but it was better than total deprivation. Then Ivan killed himself. This was all Alfred's fault. The arguments, the bloody cold war, the bombs, the deaths of children in gulags... it was all indirectly Alfred's fault. He always had to be so stubborn and proud. A world without Russia was meaningless, no one to rival Alfred's light with shadow. There was only one solution now.

Not waiting to be stopped, Alfred put the gun to his own temple. Pulling the trigger, everything faded painfully to black. Death was a funny thing. Before this point, dying had been like falling asleep painfully. This death was different. For one thing, it hurt way less on the way out. He had never seen anyone after the fact. Even recovering and waking up, there had been no one there. He was always alone forever.

Yet Alfred was wearing white, in a bright white room, with Tony seated beside him. The short red eyed alien just stared at him. It was hard to tell if he was disappointed due to lack of eyebrows or notable mouth. “Hey cool space buddy. I haven't seen you since the 90's.” Alfred greeted. “So you had to fucking kill yourself. I stop paying attention for two decades and you fuckin' kill yourself.” Tony cursed, clearly not impressed. “You, don't understand... he killed himself because of me, and... I thought... were...” Alfred attempted to explain with watery eyes, the event still overwhelming. “The Russian dumb shit killed himself too.” Tony summarized sourly between Alfred manly not-sobs. Giving the distraught nation a pat on the back. “Don't worry about it idiot. Your space buddy will fix this. Don't fuck it up.”

“What?” Alfred squeaked, confused and distressed.

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

Alfred sat up sharply in bed, heart racing. He instinctively reached for a reading lamp he couldn't recall owning. God, what a horrible dream. There was guns... and some kind of court room... and Russia died? The details were falling apart the more he recalled them. Everything felt super surreal right now.

He was Alfred Foster Jones. But that wasn't accurate either. His mind kept pronouncing Alfret, then a very unfamiliar jumble. It was just the fog from waking up, confusing him. It was time to get dressed quietly and make breakfast. He didn't want to wake people so soon. What people was he edging around again? Stretching his arms a little, an elbow bumped one of said people.

It was a big sleeping somebody all cuddled under warm morning blanket. The covered up somebody was taking up slightly over half the bed, sharing the blanket Alfred was trapped in. The freckled blond was terrified to look under. The physical urge to squeeze and tickle the half asleep bundle was stronger, and Alfred had always been impulsive. He gave the mystery person a big morning hug. Hearing a happy sigh, the nation was pulled back under all the blanket. Alfred nearly had a heart attack.

It was Ivan, sleep tousled in sleeping pants. He had been shot, he had been dead in the memory. He killed himself because of Alfred. Maybe it was a dream. It had to be, otherwise life was even more terrible than ever. With trembling hands, Alfred grabbed the Russian’s face and peppered it with kisses. That big nose, that brow, that sexy jawline, nothing was missed.

He was stopped mid neck. “Dearest, calm down. It's a Sunday.” Ivan grumbled in Russian, draping an arm over Alfred to pin him lazily. “I can't help it. I saw you kill yourself, and I don't know if it was a dream or real. Maybe it was a prophecy, it was so bad.” Alfred rambled, scared. Ivan freed the tanned blond's hair from it's scrunchy prison. Alfred eventually calmed, allowing his surprisingly long hair to be disentangled. He had never had it long at all, yet it had been long for over a century. The conflicting memories were both right.

“I suppose this nightmare had England in it.” Ivan soothed sleepily, now the bigger spoon and holding Alfred close. “It did, I shot him in the face. But it didn't make you alive again.” the younger nation admitted. “When I killed England for mistreating you, I promised you he was dead. I made absolutely sure of it sunshine. I even crushed the bones into dust and put the dust in a jar.” Ivan promised casually, clearly having made this oath before. Alfred remembered such a thing. It had been a first year anniversary gift along with a nice boat ride.

“It just felt real.” the younger nation whispered, still uncertain of reality. Ivan kissed that last shred of doubt away, snuggling slightly closer. “My god, how can you be so handsome and rugged at the same time?” Alfred flirted blatantly. Ivan blushed the slightest shade of pink, giving Alfred a squeeze. “I'll dress the kids if you make breakfast.” the ash blond volunteered, clearly not fond of cooking.

Alfred seemed both reviled and joyful over having to cook. An angrier short haired version of himself wanted to tell Ivan to shove a frying up his arse. His kinder souled self was faster, answering “Of course. I was thinking fluffy western omelets.” The additional statement of children, as in more that one was a bonus. He had always wanted a son, or a daughter. He would even be fine with anything in the middle.

He forgot about words when Ivan dragged his lazy ass out of bed. The Russian was fit, like underwear model fit. He could probably punch a hole through concrete or scare physics into letting him walk to the moon. Alfred drooled, raking into those sexy back muscles with his eyes. Then Ivan dumped an ugly university sweater over a carved body of god's finest marble. A low whine came from the freckled blonde. Ivan swiveled to look, just noticing. “What?” he asked, adjusting the drawstrings on his hooded sweater. “It's a Sunday. We should have crazy sex.” Alfred ordered more than asked.

God could Ivan blush when he had the tan of a snow man. “They're down the hall! They'll hear everything!” he whispered hoarsely. “I'll be good and quiet, We can do anything!” Alfred tempted, already tugging at the sweater impatiently. Ivan looked at the door, then Alfred. Like any other sex deprived overworked parent, the Russian jumped at the opportunity.

Alfred was face first getting ground into the mattress, a moaning mess. “This... was.... good idea.” Ivan panted, thrusting deep like a wild man. “More! Don't stop for anything.” Alfred ordered lowly, a bruising grip on his hips. The rhythmic fucking was amazing but Alfred had already come. It was all about Ivan now, for he always took a while to push over the edge. The ash blonde was easily the more sexually frustrated of the couple because he couldn't get out a quick orgasm in the shower.

Ivan's breath hitched as his pace turned erratic and rough. Finally he gasped, thrust deep inside, and came loudly. “Oh fuck, oh, your my angel.” he uttered, both men turning into a pile of blissful nudity. Not even a second later, there was knocking on the door. “Mama, Papa. Are you practicing fighting bears again?” a small boy asked. “No.” Alfred lied sheepishly, blushing as well. Still inside Alfred, Ivan stammered “I'll be right down. Go brush your teeth with your sister.” “Okay Papa.” the boy cheerfully obeyed, heard skipping away.

Ivan was quick to shower and leave, making Alfred suspicious. After languishing in the heat of the bed a few more minutes, he felt his used hole. There was a pearl of cum on his finger. That bastard never put his condom on. If Ivan made him pregnant again, he was getting shot. The last child had been ten long months without coffee, chocolate, or rum. Alfred damn near lost his mind. Between all the former British colonies giving him bad medical advice and Ivan treating him like glass, it was a miracle no one was murdered.

After spermicide type products strong enough to kill, Alfred washed, and cleaned some more. Not a single Russian swimmer was getting anywhere near his uterus this time. Hastily dressing, Alfred stomped downstairs while loading his pistol. Ivan was hiding behind his daughter, Alaska, at the kitchen table. “Annika, my little darling, lay flat so I can get a clear shot at your father's throat.” Alfred asked sweetly. Obeying, the platinum blonde batted sky blue eyes at him while climbing off the chair. It was normal for her not to talk much, despite having the appearance of an 11 year old.

“Don't kill Papa! He didn't build the pool yet!” Oregon protested with a mouth full of cereal. Ivan looked at his son with a disapproving frown. “You tried to make me pregnant again you sneaky rat!” Alfred hissed, the pistol only a foot away from Ivan's handsome face. “Just one more child, maybe it'll be Moscow!” Ivan cheered, having been at gunpoint over this before.

“I will not live without coffee or chocolate for nine months. I need them.” the freckled blonde threatened, slowly holstering his weapon. After a sigh, he kissed Ivan on the nose and began cooking. “New plan babies. Mama's gonna make you chocolate chip pancakes. Papa was bad, so he's getting one plain pancake with no toppings.” Alfred announced. The children were quick to turn on their father. He put on a pout, replying “Now I will starve!” Alaska was back in her chair, leaning in to whisper “I'll feed you some of mine, Papa. I love you more than Nikolai does.” The younger Oregon, appearing seven years old by human standards, snorted. “You want the pool too.” he muttered. Such loving children.

As breakfast progressed, Alfred sipped his coffee while watching his babies eat. “So, what are you all doing today?” he asked. “Papa said we're gonna play with Catalonia while he's working. Spain's house is huge, Mama. Catalonia has an air hockey table!” Oregon explained excitedly, making a mess of his breakfast. “Work on a Sunday?” Alfred asked with a pout.

Ivan shrugged, then rubbed his temples. “A very big problem has not been solved.” he said flatly, not keen on going himself. “I'll come. Maybe I can help, motherly wisdom and all.” the freckled blonde replied. With a tired smile, the paler nation nodded in silent agreement. The adult topic of politics was never discussed in front of their precious young states.

After breakfast clean up, Alfred combed and braided his hair into one large rope. Putting on his best Russomerican colored Hello Kitty sweater, the braid was made to match with a navy blue ribbon. He took the time to admire the silly shirt. A white eagle with red wing feathers was on Hello Kitty's clothes, while all 136 stars of the Russomerican flag were displayed in layered rings. The rings were centered around the cute kitten's silly dance. The sweater was a birthday gift from the Japanese Empire, a good friend of the couple and old wartime ally.

Once the children were picked up by Spain, Alfred and Ivan departed. The drive was not very long, since it was hosted not far from their Washington home. Since the Russomerican Republic was so huge and powerful, most nations had regular places to stay for the monthly meetings. They would never dare complain how far Washington was from their actual homes.

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

Alfred was already not impressed as soon at the couple arrived at the meeting building. “What?” Ivan asked, knowing every look of his partner. “This is a dump.” the tanned nation muttered. “No, its cheap and efficient.” Ivan countered stubbornly. It was a dump, an old brick building with a lazy government sign at the front. Not a single flower bed or wall mural spiced the place up. They could have easily taken a wrong turn and ended up at a mortuary.

The inside was just as bad, with whitewash walls and scratched up wooden floors. The long meeting table was dimly lit, due to one light being burnt out. “How much time until people arrive, dear?” Alfred asked, running a finger over the table. It came back thick with dust. “Twenty minutes, maybe.” Ivan answered absently, pouring over papers in his briefcase.

Accepting the impossible challenge, Alfred tackled the dinghy meeting room. After changing the dead light bulb, The table had a soft white cloth cover. Snacks and potted flowers were stolen from another meeting in progress down the hall. Alfred longed to dust and mop the large space, but nations were already beginning to show up early. Resigned to living in dusty filth, the north American dropped next to his husband. Ivan was still brooding over a peace treaty proposal for Syria and Turkey, putting a grouchy expression on.

“If you frown too long, your face will get stuck.” Alfred teased, edging his chair closer. He gave a few kisses, nothing graphic. It was enough to make Ivan's cold mood melt to a dopey expression. An unfamiliar chuckle was heard as a stranger approached. Alfred tensed until he recognized the long wavy locks and flirtatious blue eyes. The nation was an old one, suspected to be Alfred's illegitimate father by most. They shared too many physical qualities for it to be a coincidence.

“France, long time!” Alfred greeted with traditional kisses on each cheek. Welcomes aside, the french man looked over Alfred's currently strong but trim figure. “You look great. I haven't seen you in years.” the man complimented, his pronunciations butchering the Russian language. “You still strangle my language like a boa, dear Francis. You always look so good in your suits as well.” Alfred replied in kind. Ivan glanced up at the overtly friendly chatter, jealously threatening “Alfred is mine.”

“Of course, sunshine, and you are mine.” Alfred finished the possessive sentiment with a smile. “Forever.” Ivan whispered lovingly, losing his dark edge again. France grinned and took several pictures with his phone. Several others were arriving, sitting at the table. France bid Alfred farewell with a kiss on the hand, then took his seat at the far end of the table. The second the last nation sat his bottom to a chair, the low chatter began.

“Thank you for coming to this... emergency meeting...” Ivan faltered despite his loud introduction, completely unheard. Alfred analyzed the seating arrangements quickly, years of raising tempestuous young honing his instincts. Ivan was about to start again, when he was hushed by kisses. Alfred then stood, and whistled so sharply it made the whole room twist to look at the source. Without a word, he forcibly picked up each guest and shuffled the entire table.

The result was a mildly confused group of nations that had nothing to say. Several nations murmured while snacking on the stolen plates of cookies. Admittedly, Alfred had been overly sheltered in his colony days, only picking up Russian and English. A happy brunet nation directly addressed Alfred. “We are wondering who you are.” the cute nation said in decent Russian, heavy Italian accent coloring each vowel.

Relieved to understand, the freckled blonde replied “I'm Russomerica, or part of it.” “I don't understand. He's supposed to be Russomerica.” another Slavic nation protested, gesturing to Ivan. Flashing the simple wedding band on his right hand, Alfred silently answered the question. “He's my beloved. We share the responsibility of monitoring all 136 states and territories.” Ivan added seriously.

“Think of little brother as Russ, and his wife as Merica.” Ukraine said, loving to dote on Ivan in public and make him squirm. Alfred personally didn't care if he was called a wife, for he did many wifely things. A few chuckled at the joke, and the meeting finally began. Due to the odd new seating arrangements, no one felt comfortable enough to talk over Ivan.

Still, others eyed the docile Alfred fearfully. A few were unlucky to know Alfred as the bloody Valkyrie of Russomerica, always alongside Ivan in battle. He was no stranger to war and death. Alfred had only lost a few battles since the Russomerican Republic had initially formed. That was almost three hundred years ago.

After watching Syria and Turkey bicker with Ivan over border reassignments, Alfred felt tense. Being so close to his husband, the freckled blonde could almost feel Ivan's internal anger as it built. “Accept these new terms or we will enforce them. Everyone is tired of your petty war.” Alfred ordered. Both warring nations looked at him dubiously with his Hello Kitty sweater and adorable blonde braid. Syria laughed mockingly, having to adjust her partial hijab. Turkey smirked, asking “Does your whore wife speak for you now?”

Instinctively, Alfred rose in anger. “Take that back.” he growled, glaring holes in the man. “I would take that back unless you want to die.” Ivan warned lightly. The fool laughed at Alfred, laughed. Upset, the freckled blonde slammed his face into the table hard. “I'm loyal and cute, and I look good in sweaters. You don't know anything about me!” Alfred roared, slamming Turkey's face two more times. Letting the nation go, Alfred retreated to his husband's side. A consoling arm was draped around his shoulders.

Syria paled, quickly signing the peace treaty and returning to her chair. Spitting out several broken teeth, the bloodied Turkey grudgingly added his own signature. “I'm not a whore.” Alfred whispered softly, upset. “Of course you aren't darling. You're perfect.” Ivan assured with a chaste kiss. With that little war out of the way, there was still a lot of time left. A few constructive dialogues managed to play out. Global relations seemed improved by the end, with several trades proposed between the forty nations attending.

The meeting ended, with a few stragglers the last to leave. Alfred could hear a conversation in rapid fire English down the hall as he cleaned up. “Wales, you can't. You were my ride home!” a young voice whined. “I don't care. I can barely afford to attend as it is.” an older male voice dismissed. “But, I need you!” the younger appealed, no avail. There was a slamming of doors, then stifled crying. Unable to ignore a child in distress, Alfred peeked into the hall. A boy, almost a teenager was slumped against the wall.

Clearing his throat, Alfred attempted conversation in English. Due to not using it everyday, it was quite rusty. “Hello child. Why you cry?” he asked kindly, Russian accent thick. “Oh, oh, Mr. Russomerica. I'll leave now. I didn't mean to be so upset.” the boy answered quickly, fiercely wiping tears with his ragged looking shirt. The child was too thin for Alfred's liking, arms like twigs. “Nyet, you come with me.” the taller nation insisted.

“Um, that's nice. But I still need to find a way to get home. I live really far away.” the child noted. Alfred ignored this, scooping the child off the ground. He was a light little thing, almost too light. “You see, I'm Sealand. I'm the best little country ever, but it's really hard.” the boy prattled on. “Child of England, da?” Alfred asked, seeing the same sandy blonde hair as his own abusive mother. Sealand shrugged, shivering and snuggling into Alfred's fluffy sweater. “I don't know. I've always been alone.”

“I alone too, once. Was very unhappy, until I meet Russia. Ivan, good man, best comrade. We will talk with him.” Alfred conversed awkwardly, wishing the child knew Russian. A minute later, Ivan returned to the meeting room. Coats in hand, he clearly wasn't expecting a rail thin child clinging to Alfred's leg as it ate cookies.

“Honey, no.” Ivan refused prematurely in Russian. “But, he's stranded here, and he's so cute and little. Can I please take him as a state?” Alfred begged. “He's a principality at best, off the shore of Wales. Wales. It's too far away.” Ivan reasoned. “He is so skinny and sad. You said our navy didn't have enough influence there.” Alfred argued back. Ivan rolled his eyes, retorting “He doesn't even speak Russian. He's just another mouth to feed.” “Hey. You keep trying to get me pregnant every chance you have. I though you would want another state.” Alfred bristled verbally, still mad about the early morning sex.

“I suppose he would be a suitable navy base. Ask him then.” Ivan sighed, giving up. “Sealand, you hungry and poor, da?” Alfred asked in clumsy English. “Maybe. What's it to you?” the boy stammered defensively. “I wish keeping you for my own. Little son.” Alfred said proudly, realizing after just how fucking creepy he was being. Ivan was right after all.

Sealand was being surprisingly positive about all this. “Like you're the mom and he's the dad?” he asked, pointing at Ivan across the room. Alfred nodded, explaining “Da, but many rules. Must learn Russian like other little ones.”

“You can't get bored of me and return me to the sea. And you can't beat me or tell me I'm worthless. And... you can't touch me... down there.” Sealand grew more quiet at he continued, shielding his groin fearfully from sight. Poor child of the sea, what trials and tribulation had he already faced? Likely many since he was English offspring. The late nation had a habit of abandoning his children in fields, or in this case, at sea. “Nyet, malchik. I love my children. Fight for them, da.” Alfred assured, offering another stolen cookie. After eating the treat ravenously, the boy smiled. “Okay. I'll be your kid. I've never had parents before.” he replied casually.

Alfred crowed with joy, twirling the child around. “I Mama, or Alfret Arturovich Braginski. He your Papa, or Ivan Zimavich Braginski.” he instructed, letting Sealand down. “I'm Peter Lawrence Kirkland.” the boy introduced. Alfred pinched the sandy blonde sharply, correcting him “Nyet. You are son, Peter Arturovich Braginski.” “Ow! Fine I'm Peter art pants Braginski.” he grumbled, rubbing his sore cheek. And so the family grew a little larger.

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

A few years passed by, and the strange white dream never returned. Peter quickly learned Russian, becoming one of the family. Meanwhile Sealand's actual infrastructure was repaired and improved. The former principality with a population of four was transformed. It was now a notable Russomerican navy base, with twenty people living there full time to maintain machinery. Oregon was pleased to have a big brother he could play games with. Even Ivan tentatively bonded with Peter, taking him fishing and taking time to help with homework. The boy would never be blood, but he was just as close.

After making Alfred heavily pregnant, Ivan managed to avoid getting beat to death in the hospital. Still, California was a cute little baby. She had her mother's deep tan and freckles. It took a year, but the baby aged enough to sleep normally. After a month of being horrible to everyone, Alaska realized she wouldn't be ignored forever. A few trips to the mall later, the girl's head seemed screwed on straight. Alfred's crazy life finally started calming down.

That was until he woke up one night, discovering himself propped up and thoroughly mounted. Ivan was thrusting in frenzied fashion, panting hard. Enjoying the motions, Alfred could feel his own sticky excitement spilled beneath him. Suddenly Ivan pushed deeply and came with a cry. Hot release filled Alfred's hungry insides, his ass forcefully tilted so none could escape. Riding out the bliss, something came to mind in the groggy nation's head. If the cum wasn't going out, it could only go his... no.

“You worthless bastard! Get out of me! I don't want to be pregnant again!” Alfred growled angrily, bucking and trying to roll. “Oh just... oh, a minute.” Ivan whimpered, his still hard cock giving a mighty throb inside that stuffed passage. Oh hell no, he was still pumping seed inside. It wasn't much, but even one little swimmer was enough to ruin the rest of the year. Resisting, Alfred rocked violently and clenched his anus for all it was worth. He only succeeded in fucking thick seed deeper into himself.

Crying hot tears, Alfred felt the cock swell slightly. “I thought you loved me. I thought you respected me. All you want to do is use me.” the mounted nation wept in frustration. Ivan paused, panting as he rode out the last shots of cum. Alfred could feel every bit of it, his insides swelled with the stuff.

“That's not true. I care for you more than anything else. I love you so much I need to touch you constantly. You fixed my heart, and you're raising four perfect states. You're eyes, your hair, your cheerful optimism. Everything about you is so perfect. It makes me want to make you so full of our children, make the world a better place. We could save the world, with our happy perfect children. We'd love everyone of them.” Ivan gasped between thrusts, clearly starting another round.

The love behind every word was palpable. Heart fluttering, Alfred asked timidly “Do you really mean that? You don't think I look hideous when I'm pregnant?” Ivan started roughly fucking the filled anus, making Alfred melt into a puddle. “I want you more pregnant. I want so many children we need a van.” he ground out, hips rutting rhythmically. Alfred's body rocked in sync, so completely in love. Ivan did love him, even as a whale bloated with unborn young. Ivan loved him in his grouchy day pajamas and wild hair. He even loved Alfred during his Japanese cartoon obsession phase. To give another child didn't seem like a high cost if this cosmic love was the prize.

Six. The agreed limit was six children including Peter. Until the limit was reached, Alfred gladly let himself be filled and stretched. After rigorous secret midnight sex, he agreed to butt plugs that would keep every seed inside. Eerily enough, seed from that first night vanished before the plug was removed. There was absolutely no doubt he would be pregnant. Even so, Ivan wanted to keep up the act until the womb had completely sealed. Taking vacation time, the couple visited Saint Petersburg. Visiting was a loose term, since they were locked together in lovemaking usually. That few days turned into a week. Alfred was so delirious from all the mind blowing sex, he didn't much care what the excuse was.

They only stopped so Alfred could clean out over a week for his doctor's visit. The poor children were probably tired of hearing them “practise fighting bears” at unusual hours as well. Alfred had a very special doctor, one that had helped him through all the other pregnancies and troubles. There was so few doctors trained to deal with nations in the world. Admittedly Alfred only shared the talented physician's existence with former British colonies. Lord knew there was enough of them. If the European union got hold of the man, Alfred would never get medical care again.

Sitting in the stark waiting room, Alfred felt confident everything would be fine. With Alaska, Alfred had discovered he was pregnant while drunk off his ass at a New Years party. The girl turned out alright, if quite nonverbal. Oregon's pregnancy had been a nightmare of nutritionists and nurses. He didn't eat a single drop of anything tasty for ten painful months. It basically ruined child rearing forever. California had been okay to birth, but Alfred dodged food specialists like they were assassins.

“Braginski?” A nurse called out from an open door. The couple stood, escorted to a small office. The doctor was an ageing human, followed by a woman in a lab coat. “Doctor Varkins. A pleasure as always.” Ivan greeted warmly, for the doctor was one of the few he trusted. He eyed the young protege acting as the old human's shadow. “Why is she here?” Alfred asked, holding himself and clenching his legs closed.

“Relax, this is my replacement in training. Her name's Tiffany, or doctor Kinley.” the older man introduced. “But I just got you. Annika just shed her last baby tooth. What if she needs braces?” Alfred protested. “It's been forty years. I have a family of my own, and I want to enjoy my golden years.” the doctor explained patiently. Alfred nodded uncomfortably, sorely reminded of human fragility. It had taken Alaska forty five years to physically age to preteens. Oregon grew slightly faster, taking fifteen years to reach his current state. California would likely grew at the same rate, representing a warm state.

“Tell me about your kids, they looked cute.” the younger doctor said kindly, her Russian carrying a distant Irish tinge. Alfred nervously glanced at Ivan while Doctor Varkins checked his vitals. With a nod, the pale ash blonde put a comforting hand on his husband's leg. “Well Annika, she's my little snow princess. Then there's Peter. I adopted him. He's my little sailor. Nikolai is second youngest. He wants to be a farmer when he grows up. California is just a babe, but I knew she'll do great things.” Alfred rambled, proud of his offspring.

“California... like the state?” the woman asked dubiously. “Well, for now. We can't seemed to agree on a first name. Ivan wants Katyusha, but I want Nadia. It's fine. We have five more months before she figures out things beyond pooping and sleeping.” Alfred explained casually. “I told you. Nations. States. All that.” the older doctor mentioned while listening to Alfred's insides with a stethoscope.

“Well your vitals are good, why visit so soon?” doctor Varkins asked curiously. Blushing, Alfred revealed the good news. “Well, we're trying again for another little one. I wanted to make sure things were alright. And Ivan needs a check up. He keeps coughing.”

Ivan looked shocked that he had been tricked into the doctor's office. When he tried to flee, Alfred's steel strength kept him trapped by the arm. The stubborn Russ was inhumanly strong, but his husband had always been able to match him. “I'm fine. I don't need help.” Ivan hissed stubbornly. His heart beat, blood pressure and other lesser things were measured and noted.

“Well there's your problem.” Dr. Varkins said confidently, pulling out a series of stock market charts. The dips in Ivan's health were still too closely linked to the price of oil. “You need to diversify your exports, so you stop getting these coughs. And you haven't been eating enough vegetables.” The ancient nation pouted as he was scolded like a child. Alfred grinned, with a pleased 'I told you so' attitude.

“Does this mean these folks are Russomerica?” the trainee asked. “He's the Russo, and I'm the Merica. But yes, we are Russomerica.” Alfred patiently explained, remembering when Dr, Varkins first freaked out over this. “Oh wow! I worked with Ireland, but I never though I'd meet my own nation.” the girl gushed. Alfred shied away from the attention, nervous around humans that could recognize and extort him. Playing nervously with a braid, Alfred's fidgeting was stilled by Ivan's arms. “He's shy, you can't be so direct with him.” Varkins corrected, approaching Alfred slowly. “Do you need anything else checked?” he asked courteously. Alfred shook his head, unnerved by how the younger doctor stared at him intently. They fled the office soon after.

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

Officially two months pregnant, Alfred was feeling exhausted on the living room couch. Ivan and Alaska were enthralled in a show about big game hunters. Sealand and Oregon were on the floor, designing amphibious cars. Baby California was finally sleeping upstairs after wailing like a siren for an hour. Lazily dragging a couch quilt over his tired form, Alfred could afford to close his eyes for a second.

The dream was vivid and white. It was a white room with white tile and white benches. It was all so white and painfully familiar. Three gunshots, and one wrist cutting. Suddenly Alfred could recall being red haired, having killed himself in a bath tub by cutting his wrists. Blonde and shooting himself in the temple many times. Long haired and jumping to his death. It all felt frighteningly real. A short grey figure entered the room, using some sort of hologram device ripped right out of a movie.

Knowing and not knowing, Alfred had five confusing memories over lapping of this creature. It was safe, it was his space buddy, his confidant. Excited, he scooped the short figure up and swung it around the room. Despite never having met this creature, Alfred felt relieved to be reunited with it. It squabbled at him in a language he couldn't comprehend, until it was sharply changed to Russian.

“-ing Christ. What language is this time line in anyway?” the grey man cursed. “Who are you?” Alfred asked, refusing to let go. “You understand now?” the grey figure asked, resisting being cuddled. “Yes, little space buddy.” Alfred confirmed, the affection slipping out of him. “God fucking christ, you're going to ooze sugar if you keep this up. So, how's my favourite US of A?” the grey man asked, giving up on escaping Alfred's hugs and snuggles.

“I don't understand. Who is yuss of ah?” Alfred wondered, head cocked. Browsing alien symbols on his device, the short figure shook his head. “Wow, okay. Forget whatever I said. This line is damn confusing. What happened after 1776?” he asked bluntly. Absently petting the bald bulbous head of his friend, Alfred felt a name spring to mind.

“Well Tony, I was my own country of Americana. But it was really hard. England kept blockading my ports to starve me. Spain kept pressuring me. Ivan was courting me at the time, and became really mad. He fought off England so I could focus on Spain. After a while Ivan proposed to become a republic with me. Oh, it was so romantic. You should have seen the roses and the moonlight. I couldn't say no to that charmer. We've been married as the Russomerican Republic since 1889.” Alfred explained warmly.

“Was just checking. Normally I leave you idiots alone twenty years and you both end up killing yourselves. My boss wasn't happy about that.” Tony replied, still browsing his miniature projector. “Oh cute. Congrats on the twins. Fuck you have a lot of children. Breed like goddamn rabbits in this time line don't you?” he continued, browsing pictures of things that looked unfamiliar.

“Twins?” Alfred asked, confused. “Those things in you right now. Yeah. Fraternal twins.” Tony explained. “Why we would kill ourselves? I love Ivan too much to kill myself.” the freckled blonde protested, nothing cleared up at all. “Don't worry about it. I'm just happy that you're happy. Oh and by the way... The twins are Moscow and Washington, so Ivan can stop riding you like a used dirt bike.” Tony informed dryly.

“What?” the blonde sputtered, surprised.

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

Alfred woke sharply, aware he was holding a napping Oregon and not a grey alien man. Ivan too had passed out on the opposing couch, the wildlife show still playing. Alaska and Sealand were long gone, but that was normal. The older states were becoming teenagers and highly independent. Looking fondly at his husband, five gruesome memories flashed by.

Ivan, throat cut and bleeding onto the cushions. More memories, his head with a variety of gun shot wounds. Another, his eyes lolled back in death, mouth foaming from poison overdose. Panic gripping Alfred's heart, the snoozing Oregon was nearly dropped on the floor. The anxious nation scampered over Ivan's still form. Checking for a pulse, he went giddy with relief when one was found. Clinging to the splayed man, Alfred kissed that pale skin, licked it, cried with joy to touch it. Ivan wasn't dead. Thank God Ivan wasn't dead. Sealand and Alaska strolled in on the odd scene, both eating three ice cream bars at the same time.

“Sex on the couch? Really?” Alaska snorted derisively. “Your papa isn't dead. I touched him. He's alive.” Alfred whispered loudly, still sobbing as he squeezed Ivan's rib cage. The older nation woke with a cough, surprised. “What?” he gasped, lacking air to make real volume. “Mama's losing her marbles.” Peter replied, in no rush to rescue his adoptive father. Finally taking a breath, Ivan forced himself to sit up. After Ivan rubbed Alfred's back and fed him the rest of the ice cream bars, the grieving nation calmed down.

“It's the hormones, Alik. Nothing bad happened to me, and nothing will.” Ivan promised, wiping a mess of melted ice cream off Alfred as he sniffled. “It felt real, and there was a white room. I died, you died. It was terrifying, Vanya.” the upset nation whimpered, clinging to his muscular husband. “It was just a dream.” the ash blonde soothed with a kiss.

Alaska and Sealand were gone again, probably off to play video games. Oregon was still sleeping like a rock on the couch. In the rare moment privacy, Alfred relaxed and sagged into the soft touches. “Marrying you was the best decision of my life. I can't even imagine the madness the world would suffer if we hadn't.” he murmured, lacing Ivan's collar bone with gentle kisses. Ivan returned the kisses with one of his own, reducing both of them to lovesick lumps on the furniture.

It was true. Alfred was so lucky fate hadn't dealt him a worse hand. He would continue to cherish his blessed life, and his happy family. No matter what war or ecological disaster befell him, Alfred would always be thankful for true love.

#rusame #hetalia #fluffy #russia #america

25 notes · View notes