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connan-l · 2 years

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More than a millennium - Day 2: Cooking/Baking Together

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Michel Bollinger/Giselle

Summary: So that he could keep on holding her hand for more than a millenium.

Michel asks Giselle to teach him something, which might or might not end up in disaster.

[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @gischelweek prompts:

Day 1: Wedding Day

Day 2: Cooking/Baking Together

Day 3: Roleswap

Day 4: At the beach

Day 5: Proposal

Day 6: Bad End

Day 7: Domestic Family]

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Link on Archive of Our Own

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Notes: I really struggled to find something for them to cook together that would be appropriate for the 11th century. I wanted them to do a Savoie cake originally, given it's pretty old and still really popular in France nowadays (it’s similar to English/American's 'sponge/angel cake' apparently), but after some research it seems it was only created in the 14th century… So after looking around I only found Hidelgard of Bingen’s recipies (but she’s also a bit too recent for Michel and Giselle’s period) and… 'fairy fingers.' It’s called 'doigts de fées' in French and I’m not sure if it really exists in other countries? But yeah, that seemed to fit. Not that it matters much in the end but hey. It was a fun topic to research.

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She had been staring at him with her mouth wide open for at least three whole minutes now.

And three minutes was a long time when spent in silence with just another person gawking at you. She was aware Michel must felt very uncomfortable by now; but honestly, how else was she supposed to reply to this?

“Giselle?” He finally tried again. “Did you… hear me?”

She blinked, although still in a trance, then finally closed her mouth. Frowning, she looked on her right and left.

“I…” She started, then stopped. “What… Can you repeat what you just said to me again?”

“I, uh… I just asked you if you… I mean, if you didn’t mind… teaching me… how to cook.”

Giselle stared at him once more. Then she stood up, approached him, and put her hand on his forehead.

“G-Giselle? What—”

“It doesn’t seem like you have a fever,” she said, very seriously. “What’s going on? You can’t possibly have gotten a heatstroke, it’s winter!”

Michel groaned, pushing her hand away — and that’s funny, because it’s only then that she noticed there was a very discernible blush creeping on his cheeks, and the problem with having an abnormally pale skin is that blushes are very visible.

Still, was he actually blushing because of her? Oh, that was cute.

“I’m not sick! God, is what I asked really that odd?”

“Well, I mean…” Giselle took a step back, crossed her arms, and stared straight at him again. “Yes.”

Truthfully, she actually would be more apt to believe him if he told her he was some sort of supernatural creature or that he’d received a missive telling her she could return to the capital than this.

Michel and cooking just seemed to be stuck in the realm of impossible in her mind — an anomaly that would for sure create some sort of distortion in the universe if brought together.

“I’m not sure how to take that answer.”

“But I mean, why would you ask me that all of a sudden?”

“Well, it’s just…”

Michel looked away, as if not sure how to put his thoughts into words, and appearing… embarrassed?

Oh no. Why is he acting so adorable all of a sudden? What’s going on?

Giselle felt like she was missing a piece of the puzzle here. It had been almost six months now since she came back to the mansion and that they’d started getting along. Things had been going so well, sometimes she almost couldn’t believe it; still waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment.

But at other times… she felt so at ease in his presence, so content, that it was as if all of her problems and all the pain she’d experienced up until now stopped existing.

During those past months, she felt confident in saying she’d gathered a pretty good grasp of Michel as a person, had been able to slowly nibble away his facades and discover many different sides of him. Yet, it was still the first time she was seeing him like… that — and it certainly was the first time he’d ever dared to ask such a favor out of her.

“I… You’ve been… taking care of all the cooking and… of most of the chores since you’ve arrived,” Michel finally continued.

He was still unable to look at her in the eyes, focusing on the ground instead, and it was very destabilizing to Giselle. He acted as embarrassed as if he was about to confess his love or something, which would be really ridiculous.

“And… uh… well, you know, I’ve been thinking that… it wasn’t very fair to… let you do that on your own. We are two people living here now, after all… So… I want to learn a little and maybe… help you out… I suppose…”

The words took a lot of time to actually reach Giselle’s brain, and so she continued to stare at him in disbelief for a while. And when they ultimately did — she gasped, chuckled, then burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh!” Michel exclaimed in an uncharacteristic fit of emotion, his cheeks now completely red. “I-I’m being serious here!”

“S-Sorry, sorry! It’s just…” She tried to restrain her giggles as best as she could, without much success. “What? Th-That’s it? Really? Oh god. Master, you’re incredible!”

“That… doesn’t feel much like a compliment.”

She shook her head, wiping away her tears. “No, no, I’m genuinely touched. It makes me happy that you’re concerned about the type of work I have to do and that you want to help! But… well, you know, I’m still your servant. So, it is my job. You don’t have to feel bad about that.”

He sighed. “Well, yes. But still, I’m not the one who employed you, and we are not really—”

Michel stopped there. His face was frozen in doubt, as if putting the rest into words would actively trigger… something. But Giselle could easily guess what he was about to say even without hearing it.

We are not really that much of a servant and master.

That was true. Even if Giselle was the one doing all the cooking and taking care of most of the chores — although Michel still helped with some of those like cleaning — and that she did call him ‘Master,’ that was pretty much were it stopped.

Most of time, they simply… acted like friends. And, to say the truth, that was how Giselle liked to think of Michel.

As her friend, more than her master.

She wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good thing, but at least it certainly wasn’t a bad one.

Still, she could understand Michel’s hesitation to actually put their relationship into words — there was something that felt not entirely… appropriate about the entire thing.

That was why she didn’t press him any further and simply continued on the topic at hand: “Well! If you really want to try learning cooking, then sure, we can do that. Cooking is really fun, you know? What do you want to try first? We’ll have to wait until next month for the ingredients if you want something in particular though…”

Michel paused, frowning. “I… don’t know, actually. I haven’t really thought much about it. Something simple to start with?”

“Hmm… Simple, huh? Then how about something sweet? Oh, I know! What about fairy fingers?”

“Fairy…?”

“Geez, you’ve never heard of it? Those are cookies! Mom used to make these all the time. When my sister and I were kids, she would tell us they were originally offered to fairies who ate children. To trick them, a woman from the village made cookies that looked like fingers and gave them to the fairies telling them those were real children’s fingers. She would leave them under the trees and…”

As she kept talking, her smile suddenly waned. Michel looked at her with a concerned gaze.

“Giselle?”

“Ah… Sorry. I was just thinking about my mom and sister back at home. You know…”

Giselle couldn’t tell if Michel really ‘knew,’ but he nodded with an understanding look regardless.

Cooking was, to her, inherently linked to her family — her mother had been a very talented cook and it was a primordial thing to her to teach her children how to handle the kitchen. Though her sister didn’t like cooking unlike Giselle, so in the end it had more been a privileged time only between her and mother, and to this day those were part of the memories she cherished the most.

Would she ever be able to cook like this with her mom again?

The thought brought on a pang of loneliness and sorrow, so she did her best to chase it away and instead smiled at Michel.

“Anyway! I think it’s definitely a good start for a beginner. We should try it!”

Michel stared at her quietly for a moment, probably still worried about her melancholic fit from earlier, then finally opened back his mouth tentatively.

“Well… it sounds nice, but the point in me learning was so that I could make proper meals, not just cookies—”

“You have to start somewhere, right? We can make more complicated things later. Plus, don’t think of it in such a practical way! You have to learn how to love cooking, not just cooking because you have to eat. Hmm, I think we already have flour and butter, but we’ll still need almonds, egg white, orange blossoms…”

She started enumerating all the ingredients needed out loud, already getting excited at the prospect — it would in fact be the first time she’d bake sweets here, as she’d only made relatively simple meals since she’d arrived at the mansion. Michel tried to protest again, but all of his arguments were in vain; now that he had put the idea into her head, there was no way she’d let it go. Thus it was decided they would put a message for the Bollinger main house next time to command the missing ingredients… Giselle nodded to herself, satisfied of her planning.

“All right.” She suddenly turned around towards Michel, a wide smile splitting her face. “Listen up, Master. I accept to teach you how to cook… but under one condition.”

The man arched an eyebrow, a clear suspicious — and a bit worried — glint shining in his eyes.

“Yes…?”

“I might usually be your servant, but right now, in this kitchen, I will be the master. You’ll have to follow every order I give you, without protesting. Got it?”

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“Very well, Master, now you have to mix the flour, almonds and the salt. Then we’ll add the butter in cubes, the eggs and orange blossom… Oh god, right, there’s the sugar too! I still can’t believe your family was able to get hold of sugar so easily. The Bollinger house is truly something else, huh…”

Giselle kept talking, sitting on the counter and swinging her legs cheerfully as Michel struggled with a large bowl he in front of him, agitating a wooden spatula inside it. He had tied his long, white hair in a messy bun — all on his own, as he’d specifically refused to let her touch his hair for some reason — and was wearing an improvised apron they’d made out of some unused sheet.

They’d only just started, but he was already very focused on his task; eyebrows knitted together, nose scrunched and eyes narrowed as he clumsily stirred the utensil in its recipient. Giselle watched him in the corner of her eyes, trying her best to not giggle.

She felt it would be mean to laugh at him when he was obviously trying his best and follow her instructions to the letter, but… she just couldn’t help how cute she found him like this. It felt like a sudden whole new Michel in front of her, one she knew nothing about, and it just was so thrilling and heartwarming all at the same time — discovering all kinds of new things like this, especially when it concerned him, always put her in a peculiar, happy and exhilarated type of mood she couldn’t get tired of.

It reminded her of all the fond memories she had spent cooking with her mother, but still with its own unique feel and experience to it.

Oddly enough, cooking like this with him didn’t make her miss her family as much as she’d originally expected. The first time she’d found herself in the mansion’s kitchen all by herself when she first arrived made her feel really depressed, but now it wasn’t the case anymore; maybe Michel’s presence was simply enough to soothe a little the loneliness in her heart left by her mother and sister.

“I’m… I’m not sure it works, Gi— I mean, Master.”

“It works, it works! Trust me, you just have to be patient. Keep on mixing it. You won’t be able to achieve anything in cooking if you’re impatient, Master.”

He sighted, and put down the bowl momentarily to wipe his forehead. Then he suddenly threw a curious look at her that Giselle couldn’t quite describe.

“What is it?” She asked.

“It’s just… You said before that in the kitchen you’ll be the master from now on, but you still haven’t called me Michel once. You only keep using ‘Master.’”

“Huh? O-Oh… Yes, that’s true…”

Truth be told, what she’d told him about ‘being the master in the kitchen’ had been mostly in jest; she hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously.

And… there was just a part of her who couldn’t bring herself to call him by his given name.

There was just something too… intimate, about it. It felt like if she were to call him ‘Michel’ now… it would be like admitting that their relationship went besides the normal servant-master dynamic they were supposed to have.

It would be like saying they were, genuinely, officially, friends.

Which wouldn’t be wrong or bad, but… that felt like a step she just couldn’t take right now.

So she decided to brush him off, smiling and shaking her head casually. “Well, it’s just hard to break the habit, you know. Plus, I was mostly joking! It’s kind of nice to be called a ‘master’ and all, but you can just keep on calling me Giselle if you want.”

She laughed, trying to quickly move on from the topic — but Michel didn’t seem to share her amusement. At the contrary, a strange frown crossed his face as he let out a soft ‘Oh,’ and it made Giselle pause.

Wait, was he… was he actually disappointed? Did he want her to call him Michel?

Was she overthinking stuff?

She shook her head, pushing away the thoughts. “A-Anyway, let’s keep on! We can’t spend the night on this.”

“R-Right…”

“You know, you actually need to hold the spatula better if you want to mix in a more effective way. Look, I’ll show you—” All while talking, she jumped off the counter and grabbed his wrist from behind. “If you bent your hand like that it’ll be better to move quickly.”

She instinctively let her fingers ran across Michel’s hands, her fingertips palpating his skin. It was kind of amazing how slender his hand and fingers were, like spider legs; she was almost sure she could feel the bones behind it. Even though she’d made sure to make him healthy, well-balanced meals for the past few months, he was still as meager as an emaciated sick man on his death bed. Maybe she should try to ask ingredients with more butterfat…

“See?” She added, raising her head towards him. “That way is much more—”

But the moment she saw his face, she stopped. Michel was looking at her with wide eyes, lips tight, and a very distinct, very red blush spread across his cheeks. It was even more visible than when he’d asked her for this cooking lesson a month ago.

She wasn’t sure what had caused this — well, sure, she was holding his hand and suddenly their faces were really close, but it was just a cooking lesson, nothing more! — however he looked so embarrassed that suddenly Giselle started to feel the same, pink flowing to her own cheeks.

Having the urge to hastily step aside from the awkward moment, she let go of his hand and almost jumped away from him — which also meant that in her hurry she’d completely forgot all about the flour sack she’d left on her side, and before she could comprehend what was happening her hand bumped into it; she lost balance, squeaked, and vaguely heard a worried ‘Giselle!’ before her vision turned upside down and she hit the floor.

The next thing she was able to distinguish was white. Pure white dust flying around the kitchen, falling all around her like thin snow. She would probably think of it as kind of pretty, if it weren’t for how much her bottom and head started hurting.

“Giselle! Giselle, are you all right?”

A pair of red eyes came over her field of view, as Michel sat down next to her and stared at her worriedly. Giselle raised a hand in an attempt to placate him.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m hurting a bit but it’s not a big deal—”

“You got hurt? Where?” He asked in a panicked voice.

“I’m fine, I said! Geez, no need to look like I’m dying—” She straightened up, making some more bits of flour fly around, and she almost sneezed.

Well. Somehow, it wasn’t surprising that their first cooking attempt together ended up like this.

“…I-If you say so, then that’s fine, but…”

Giselle arched an eyebrow and looked at Michel. He still looked a bit concerned about her, but more than that, there was… a bit of an odd expression on his face. Like he was trying very hard not to look at her, and—

“Wh-What is it?”

“No, nothing, it’s just…”

“What? You’re worrying me here!”

Michel seemed to hesitate a little. And then, to her utmost surprised, he actually… started to chuckle.

“Your hair—” he said in between two laughs. “—just look… very white, now.”

Giselle blinked, and then run a hand in her short hair — effectively, what she got out of it was a bunch of flour stuck on her hand; so much of it, in fact, that her entire palm was now completely white, as if she’d dived it into a paint bucket. She sighed in an exasperated, fond way.

“Oh well.” She looked up at him, then smirked. “Do I look good with white hair?”

“…Not at all, actually. You’re much better with dark one.”

“Geez, why do you always have to be so mean?! You know you have flour on your face, too!”

But even with her complaints she was smiling despite herself, and by instinct, she reached for his cheek and the tip of his nose, wiping the flour dwelling there with her thumb affectionately.

This time, Michel didn’t seem embarrassed at all; he just laughed some more. A new wave of warmth washed over Giselle — and in that instant, she found herself wishing she could make him laugh like that as often as possible.

They likely wouldn’t have enough flour anymore to make any more cooking — but it was okay.

Michel’s laugh had been more than worth it on its own, and they had all the time in the world to try again, after all.

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

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right where you left me

summary: this is the fourth prompt of @caplanbuckybarnes ‘s summary challenge! this idea kind of went a little crazy on my part, but the prompt is: remember when you said you’d marry me? today’s our wedding day and you’re not here to see it.

warnings: y’all, i really said that i didn’t write angst and then made cardigan, and then this after one serious talk with @teenwonder - yeah, so this is angst? i wrote this while extremely vulnerable so this is very messy- deepest apologies

note: yes, the title is a taylor swift song. it is a must listen if you haven’t heard it, please!

word count: this is literally a baby, the shortest thing i’ve ever written- 1.4k

also guys, i got to 300 followers sometime last night- thank you!! i’m so glad that other people are enjoying my stuff, it’s such a great feeling.

If you had known that one person wasn’t coming back after retrieving the soul stone, you would have gone with Natasha instead of letting Clint go, and you would have forced her to let it be you. At least, that was your main thought for weeks and weeks, until the hole in your heart grew bigger and the rock on your finger grew almost too heavy to carry. Then, after your anger at her for leaving you in the dark and alone faded, you realized that it was just sadness. Nothing but. And for a while, it seemed to be going on a steady incline, and nothing was even close to getting better.

You woke up every morning in emotional pain. Every morning, the right side of the bed was cold. Every morning, there was a lack of eyes on your face, and of feather light touches going down your back. There were no whispered Russian words or sweet nothings spoken in English. It was just you and no one else, and you could have never imagined that peace and quiet could have ever been so destructive. You would never be over the fact that it seemed like everyone had gotten their loved ones back, clicked right back into place like they never left to begin with, but you were stuck. Stuck in time, stuck in emotions, stuck with your body still aging but your heart never moving on. You were on a spinning platform, watching everyone grow old and renewing old vows and having kids, and you couldn’t get off. You would be there for the rest of your life, right where she left you. And then, that was when you took your original thought back.

You would have never been able to leave her in the amount of sadness that she left you.

You knew that she was always self-sacrificing, no matter how much she liked to pretend that she wasn’t the sort of team player that the world needed. It showed in the way she spoke about certain topics, the way she always secretly cared for the underdog, how she always stood up for recruits trying to prove themselves, and even how she always watched out for the little guy and stuck her neck out for the people she knew needed a little more help than others. Hell, she met you by sticking her neck out for a stranger. You were fighting a man inches taller than you who had a knife swinging at you so wildly that you were sure that he was actually going to get you with his manic jabs. She came flying in out of nowhere without a sound like some sort of battle angel, and before you even realized who she was, she stepped in, took a shallow stab for you, and then dropped him so quickly that you were scared he was dead.

She sported that scar for the rest of her life, and at first, it brought shame to you. It made you feel guilty; knowing that your weakness caused another person to wear a scar on their body. Especially her and her body, because she was flawless. Because as hard as she seemed, she was beautiful inside and out, and she didn’t deserve to have any scar of any kind. As your love grew on, things changed, and that godforsaken scar became the flame to your hovering moth. Your fingers always managed to find it, even over her civilian clothes or tactical suit, and your lips always brushed over it when the lights were out and the air was thin between the two of you, when all there was was you and her and the candles that burned on the other side of the room.

Now, you couldn’t imagine not wanting to see that scar. All you wanted was to trace it with your fingers even though you knew every single puckered spot that hadn’t healed correctly, and every curve of the scar itself. You couldn’t think of a more peaceful scene than placing light kisses on it and then looking her in the eyes, watching her smile that pretty little smile she did every time, the one that said that she would jump in front of the knife a thousand times over again.

So, yeah, you knew that she was self sacrificing. But you would have never thought that she would leave you in shambles. And shambles was what you were in as you sat in the apartment, the one that you used to share that you had nearly cleared out with the help of a pitying Sam and Maria Hill, in your beautiful white gown that you were so certain matched the one that Natasha had picked for herself.

You still hadn’t seen it.

You were in the entire outfit. Your shoes were strapped on lazily, your veil was pushed back and crinkled, your mascara was running, but your dress was perfect. Your dress was frozen in time, stuck in a day that it had never even seen play out. Your sobs echoed louder than any laughter in the apartment had now that all the picture frames and decor had been torn down.

She was supposed to marry you. That was the promise that the both of you made when she got on one knee after the best day at Coney Island, surprising you only because you had a black box in your pocket, too. You were supposed to marry Natasha Romanoff, and your wedding day was here, knocking loud and proud, standing on your doorstep. It was the day, the one that was staring at you in the form of the glaring pink sharpie that you two had used to circle the day on the calendar. The calendar was the only thing still up in your apartment, as if you could ever forget the date.

Suddenly, the dress that fit you perfectly began to feel tight. The necklace that you picked because it was elegant and light felt heavy around your neck, like a collar of sadness preparing to choke you at any second. You stood up, ready to take it all off and throw your dress and all of it off of the top of Stark fucking Tower, but then the heels that were your perfect height felt too tall. You collapsed back onto the couch, bawling your eyes out and whispering her name like a prayer over and over again, like it would bring her back to you, standing in a radiant white dresses that you could have only dreamed of. You could imagine it, her staring down at you with the soft smile she reserved for you that you missed so much, hand reaching out for yours, and you would have stretched to the point of desperation just to touch her. The door to your apartment had been unlocked and there was a quiet shuffling that signaled people coming in, but you didn’t care.

You didn’t care that they were her friends, or yours. You didn’t care that they had somehow gotten a key to your apartment, or that they looked almost as heartbroken as you did, sitting on the floor of the apartment that used to be shared, and so full of life and love. You didn’t care that you could hardly breathe through the pain or through your chest rattling sobs, nor did you care that someone had their arms wrapped around you and was trying to break through your eternal wall of grief.

You and your dress were stuck in time. Stuck in a place where nothing bad ever happened to you or Natasha, in a timeline where you two managed to get married. In your mind, you were looking at Natasha while you threw your bouquet at your small group of friends, wide smiles on the both of your faces as you heard their playful squeals. In reality, you were sobbing on your floor, dust collecting on you and your true emotions as pages of reality and dream world stuck to each other. She left you, and she left you with no choice but to stay in a moment that would never happen forever. You flinched when you felt the arm squeeze you gently, forcing you to look at who was truly there in the flesh in front of you. It wasn’t her.

But it was your wedding day. And she was never going to be there to see it.

****

i got sad and selfishly decided to make it other people’s problems- this is the result

#natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha angst #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #lgbt marvel #marvel fanfiction #i hate endgame #my fics #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #cappyssummerchallenge

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hawkwhore · 4 years

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hi hi hi could i request a hawk imagine where it’s an enemies to lovers kinda thing, so hawk is still in cobra kai and y/n is in miyagi do. basically tori hurts her and he sees her after and gets protective over her, then they get close and kinda secretly date... something like that haha THANK YOUUU <33333

Do Better — Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Female!Reader

HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I literally had an entirely different fic at like 8k words for this before I decided it didn’t fit close enough to the prompt and I just completely started over and this one was even longer than the first so that’s why it took me literal ages LOL.

includes; swearing, fluff, fighting, so much angst

words; 11,394 (im sorry its a whole ass novel)

this takes place late s2, after demetri and hawk’s friendship ends but before eagle fang forms!

Most of your time in high-school you spent in a bubble, keeping to yourself and just your few friends. You didn’t involve yourself in other people’s crap very often, but when an all-out karate war happened at the end of your junior year, you couldn’t keep lurking in the shadows anymore.

Bullying was becoming heavy at your school, and while you weren’t usually a target, you grew tired of watching other people get hurt. Primarily, by a familiar face to you-- Eli Moskowitz.

Not that you knew him particularly well, but you remembered the shy boy you’d shared classes with, and you always tried your best to be nice to him knowing how others treated him.

You never would’ve thought that now he’d be the bully, destroying the confidence of other kids who were just like him.

“Look at this kid,” He laughed to his friend, Mitch. The two boys were standing in the hall, hovering over a small, scrawny boy who looked terrified. “You wanna be in Cobra Kai? Well, see, we had to be un-flinched first. We can do that for you right now, though. See how much you can take.” He teased, threatening a punch, watching the boy wince at his movement.

When you were in the halls on your way to your next class, you witnessed this horrible incident. You watched for a moment, before deciding that it was time for you to step out of your bubble. “Hey, leave him alone.” You said annoyedly, urging the boys to give it up.

Hawk turned to you and leered, and Mitch pushed the kid against the locker so he wouldn’t move while they dealt with you. “Be careful who you talk to like that, princess.” He moved dangerously close, and despite the feelings of anger you had towards him, your stomach dropped a little at the nickname.

Not letting it affect you, you came back bitterly. “Oh yeah? And who am I talking to, Eli?” His face contorted in disgust at the use of his real name. “You know, it’s sad, how you became everything you used to despise. I remember the other side of you, you were sweet..” You said, smiling to your self in remembrance. “And now look at you.” Looking at him in resentment, you finished.

Turning angrily on his heel at your words, Hawk punched the boy in the face and let him go running. He looked back at you with a look of victory, and Mitch smirked. “You better watch your back.” Hawk said threateningly, and knocked his shoulder into yours as he walked to his class.

Through the rest of the day, Hawk thought about you. He knew who you were; Y/N, the only girl to ever be nice to him during his shier days. He remembered the feeling he got any time you’d talked to him, and also how pretty you looked each time you did.

He had almost forgotten until then, how much he had always admired you. He even wanted to ask you out all that time ago, but now too much has changed. Way too much, clearly, because when the commercial for Miyagi-Do came out, you were quick to join.

It was that interaction with Hawk that really set you off, actually. You wanted to be able to stop the cruelty, and you thought that joining Miyagi-Do for defense would be a good start.

Little did you know, the rivalry would only grow.

As weeks passed, Miyagi-Do gained students and flourished. But in the meanwhile, Cobra Kai only got rougher, angrier, and just.. worse, in general.

You had done your best to avoid fights, (like a true Miyagi-Do would) but on a particularly bad day of yours, you were unlucky enough to find yourself running into Tory outside of school.

Being close friends with Sam, you knew to stay clear of Tory after hearing what she did to her. You thought Tory was a vile human being, though, and if she were to start anything-- she was probably the one person you wouldn’t hesitate to absolutely destroy.

When on your way to the dojo, you took a pit stop at a convenience store to pick up some snacks since you had some time to kill between after school and when practice started. You were met with an unpleasant surprise on your way out, when you saw Tory approaching the store.

The two of you made eye contact as you crossed paths, and you decided to ignore her and keep walking. Until, as you walked past each other, Tory stuck out her leg and tripped you over the concrete pathway.

“Are you kidding me, bitch?” You pushed yourself up, scoffing at her, and she smiled maniacally. “What’d you just call me?” She teased, obviously looking for a fight.

As much as you wanted to stay calm, you were pushed over the edge. “You heard me, bitch.” You repeated, letting her know you were not afraid. “What’s your problem? I keep away from you and you just can’t help yourself from starting something. I’ve never even done anything to you.” You confronted Tory, looking for an explanation for her behavior.

It was true, you’d hardly ever interacted with her-- but since you’re in Miyagi-Do and friends with Sam, she just didn’t like you. And Tory being Tory, if she didn’t like someone, she was going to be a bitch about it.

She laughed at your attempt to reason with her, and looked at you in self-satisfaction. “I just think it’d be fun to watch you bleed.” She seemed proud at the insult, stepping forward threateningly-- but you thought it was pretty lame.

Clearly, she had no real answer for the questions you asked her. She was far gone in her own world, using only anger to dictate her decisions.

You had let out a disappointed sigh, shaking your head, and turned to simply leave the situation, remembering that it wasn’t worth it. But Tory had other plans.

She grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully forcing your body to face her. You quickly rotated it to release yourself from her grip, and punched her in the face with your newly freed hand.

“Leave me alone, Tory. This fighting for no reason crap is bullshit.” You said, stepping out of her proximity and holding your fists up in case of needed defense. Tory felt blood trickle from her nose, and as she wiped it from her face, she threw you a sickening sneer.

Seemingly avid on letting her rage out on you, she only continued. “You’re pathetic.” She cackled, taking a swing at you. You blocked this, but the movement left an opening for her to then kick your stomach, which sent you to the ground.

Before you could manage to get up again, she was hovering over you, punching your face repeatedly. It wasn’t until the pain was sinking in that you finally gained enough power to push her off, rolling forward and pinning her down tightly.

You grabbed a fistful of her hair, turning her face towards the ground. “Give it up, Tory.” She stayed quiet, breathing heavily, until she used her remaining strength to free her arm and dig her elbow into your side.

You fell back at this, and you were now both sat on the ground, mere inches from each other. “Seriously, I mean what’s the point? What are you gaining from this besides a couple of bruises?” You stood up, asking again.

You genuinely wanted to know, what could make a person so heartless. You had done nothing to provoke her, yet she was so intent on hurting you. Your question had unfortunately only sparked her rage again, the way you acted so ‘above it all,’ in Tory’s mind made her only angrier.

She rose, charging towards you for another strike, when the owner of the convenience store came out. “What the hell is this? Do I need to call the police?” The man asked. He had caught you in the blocking position of Tory’s attack, and she bitterly pushed herself off of you.

“You got lucky.” She spat, walking back towards the store she was originally on her way into. “Think about it, Tory! Why?” You yelled as she walked away, wanting your final words to sink into her.

You assured the owner that you were fine, and that he didn’t need to get the cops involved. You took out your phone and checked your complexion in the front camera, cringing seeing the cuts and bruises from Tory’s punches all over your face.

But remembering the bloody nose you had given her in your first punch, you smiled to yourself. Looking at your phone’s clock, you had certainly killed the time, but much more than you had wanted to. You were going to be late, so you texted Sam, alerting her that you got in a fight (sparing the details for later,) and that you would be late to practice.

You figured you could just clean up your cuts when you got home, it wasn’t a big deal, probably. But on your walk to the dojo, a passing car slowed at the sight of you. You started walking faster, instantly assuming the worst, but when the window rolled down, you heard a familiar, extremely unpleasant voice. Hawk.

“On your way to practice, huh? Still no car?” He taunted, knowing you still hadn’t saved up enough to buy your own. You glanced at him and rolled your eyes, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. How many enemies were you going to bump into today?

That was when he noticed your face. “Jesus, Y/N, what happened to you?” He laughed, fully stopping the car. You halted and responded annoyedly, “Tory happened. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to be late.” Turning back towards the walkway, you continued down the street.

But before you could get far, Hawk had gotten out of his car and caught up to you. “You’re not seriously headed to the dojo like that are you?” He said confusedly, trying to keep up with your pace.

You looked at him like his question was stupid, and continued walking. At your ignoring of him, he pushed his point further. “You need to clean those cuts.” He said, still following close behind you as you walked.

“Since when do you care?” You said irritated, continuing to disregard the boy’s words. At this, he finally stopped following. “You know what, fine.” He stood, speaking sharply, and you looked at him curiously at his abruptness. “Just trying to help, or, be nice or whatever.” He muttered aggravatedly, raising his hands in mocking surrender at your attitude.

You had ignored his concerns, because quite honestly you didn’t believe he was actually concerned. You had assumed it was some sort of set up for a new insult, or a way to just mess up your face even more.

“Oh yeah? That’s pretty unusual for you, isn’t it?” You said rudely, engaging back in the conversation. Hawk pursed his lips together and shifted uncomfortably.

You didn’t know it, but Hawk still cared about you. He may have changed, but his feelings for you hadn’t— as much as he tried to get them to. And right now, seeing you hurt, and since there was nobody around to judge him for it, he wanted to help you.

“Look, I’ve got some first aid stuff in my car. Let me help.” He stayed where he was, not wanting to provoke you, and spoke softly, nudging his head towards his car.

You narrowed your eyes looking at him, feeling skeptical of accepting the invitation. He noticed your hesitation, but did not back down, looking at you expectantly for an answer.

You let out an exasperated sigh, and walked towards his car without saying a word. Continuing to argue with him about it seemed like a waste of time to you at this point.

Hawk smiled to himself in relief that you gave in. Hurrying after you, he retrieved the first aid kit from the trunk of his car and ran to open the passenger seat door.

“You wanna sit?” He pointed at the seat, motioning you to take it. You dropped your bag and got in the car, still glaring at Hawk.

He seemed sincere in his intentions, but you really just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Who knows what he could really be planning?

As you took your seat, you reached out to take the kit from Hawk’s grasp. “Hold on,” he said, moving the box away from your reach.

You gave him a bothered look, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “Have you ever even done this before?” He said, referring to cleaning up after a fight.

“No?” You shrugged, “It can’t be that hard.” You said impatiently, reaching for the box again. “Can you please just let me do it? I’ll show you how for next time.” He practically pleaded, wanting to make sure it was done right so you healed properly.

You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to him, but you were tired of going back and forth with him. “Whatever, just make it quick. I’ll miss all of karate class at this rate.” You complained, moving closer to the edge of the seat so Hawk could reach you.

The height of his car made you two the same height, so Hawk was face to face with you as you were seated. “Hmm, miss a Miyagi-Do lesson? I don’t see the problem.” He joked, almost making light of their rivalry.

You smiled lightly at that, playfully rolling your eyes, but not saying anything. He stood close enough to examine your face, and it was close enough to make you both nervous.

It was silent as he opened the kit and started to clean your cuts, but you broke it to ask a question that was burning in you. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked at you for a second, looking reluctant to answer your question. “What do you mean?” He dodged, continuing to tend to your bruises.

You laughed, knowing full well he knew what you meant, but deciding to answer him anyway. “Why are you helping me? We aren’t friends.” You said plainly, making sure to keep your face still.

“I don’t know, you just obviously needed it.” He brushed off the seriousness of the question, starting to dab the cloth over your lip so you couldn’t talk.

You pushed his hand away lightly. “That’s hardly an answer. You’d never help a Miyagi-Do, so why?” You snapped, not letting his hand near your face again until he answered.

He finally took a step back, and stared at you looking defeated. “You’re the only one who was ever nice to me. Before.. this.” He pointed to his hair, referring to the era of The Hawk.

You crossed your arms skeptically. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” You asked expectantly, and he rolled his eyes. “Demetri’s different, okay? He betrayed me. But you..”

He trailed off, struggling to maintain eye contact with you. “You were never anything but good to me. You deserve better.” He said, and your heart both stung and fluttered at once, trying to figure out what was going on with him.

You wondered if his actions were truly coming from a place of sincerity. It was very unlike him to be anything but an asshole, so hearing something like that come out of his mouth really made you think.

He tried to ignore the sentiment he had just said by walking back towards you and starting to tend to your wounds again, but you only pushed him back for a second time.

“I don’t understand what happened to you.” You said sadly, examining the way he stood. “I changed.” He said monotonously, trying to avoid matching your energy of seriousness.

His hot-and-cold temper was starting to annoy you, the way he would open up just to close right back down again.

“Yeah, and not for the better. Are you even happy?” You said, frustrated, looking at him hard. His face turned sour.

“More than I was before!” He yelled, stepping towards you threateningly. You were taken aback at his outburst, suddenly feeling small as he grew angrier. “My life was hell, remember?” His voice cracked, and he tried to calm himself as he saw the way you leaned back into your seat uncomfortably.

“Look, I’m sorry for keeping you, I probably cleaned you up enough so... just go.” He said softly, sounding regretful as he moved out of the way so you could get out of the car.

You furrowed your brows in confusion. You felt completely clueless on how he was feeling, and you didn’t want to leave it like this. “Hawk-“, you started, but he cut you off. “No, just go.” He pointed away. “I was stupid to think I’d get a second chance with you.” He muttered to himself, turning to walk around to the drivers seat of his car.

“Wh— second chance? What do you mean?” You shouted after him and hopped off the seat, grabbing his arm before he could get too far.

At your tug of his arm, he looked back at you with the most intense feeling in his eyes. Not wanting to use his words anymore, Hawk turned to grab your wrist from the hand that was already resting on his arm, and pulled you against him.

Hawk smashed his lips onto yours, holding you loosely in fear of your rejection. You weren’t expecting it, but you didn’t pull away. Your kiss continued and you subconsciously shuffled backwards, now being able to lean against the side of the car as he grew more passionate in his movements.

Being with him like this felt amazing, but it was confusing, too-- you had to pull away and clear up this situation.

Finally letting each other go, Hawk looked at you with glossy eyes. You had no idea where all of this came from or what to say, so you were silent as you waited for him to explain.

He knew what you were waiting for, and sighed deeply before expressing how he felt. “I just feel like after everything, I owe you my best.” Hawk said quietly, and you waited for him to go on, having not yet made up your mind on the whole situation.

You enjoyed the kiss, yes-- but you didn’t understand why it had happened, and that was something you needed to know before anything could proceed further. Hawk was a jerk, and he was going to have a lot of explaining to do for you to suddenly be able to forget that.

He moved even closer, and reached his hand out to brush your hair away from your face. “And I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He whispered, ghosting his fingers across the bruises on your face.

You felt a shiver down your spine as he touched you, closing your eyes in the moment. “And,” he pulled away from you, his voice changing to a more regular tone again, “I don’t ever want to be the reason you feel pain. Not after all those times you helped me escape mine.” He said, reaching out to hold your hand, as he referred to how you were there for him so long ago.

Pure concern and care for Hawk overtook you as the words left his lips, and you had never felt so conflicted in your life. It made sense to you now why he would often avoid you, whereas others he’d make it his mission to pick fights with.

He had just admitted to caring about you, and that he never wanted to be at fault for your hurt. He had a reputation to uphold, but he really did have a soft spot for you that never went away.

You felt like you were talking to Eli again, as though the sweet boy he once was had never left, but you also knew that once this moment was over, he’d go back to his corrupt ways again. And that terrified you.

All these new feelings for Hawk were rising in you, but how could you act on them when he was supposed to be your enemy?

He studied your expression, waiting for you to say something. He felt more confident now, seeing as you kissed him back, but he was still nervous for whatever you were about to say.

“What do we do?” You spoke shakily, your expression timid and lost. He caressed his thumb over your hand, noticing your own nerves. “What do you mean?” He asked, not expecting that to be your first question.

“I’ve always cared about you and you know that, but then you go through all these changes and become a total dick, and now you kiss me and tell me how you care too.” You say awkwardly, trying to point out the weirdness of the situation. “I’m confused, Hawk, and afraid. We can’t be together when everything about our lives will keep us apart.” You whimpered, scattering your eye contact.

His heart leapt at the mention of you two being together, but frowned once registering the context of the words. He suddenly felt guilty, seeing how distressed you were. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this, he thought.

But it was too late now, and as he released your hand to move forward and hold you, he never wanted to let go.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your ear. He knew his recent actions since joining Cobra Kai weren’t exactly admirable-- he knew he should do better. But it was hard; and all he could muster right now, was an apology.

There was a lot to process in such a short moment of time, and you felt overwhelmed. You felt comforted and safe as he held you, but at the same time you felt wrong for feeling that way.

Maybe he was trying to do right by you, but would that be enough if he continued to act terribly when everyone else was around? You needed some time to think. “I should go.” You pulled away from his grasp, trying to be gentle even though your exit was abrupt.

“Oh,” he nodded, watching as you picked up your karate bag. “I just don’t want everyone at the dojo to worry.” You said, trying to rid the conversation of its tension.

He was trying to play it cool, but he was screaming on the inside, terrified that once you left you would never talk to him again. “Just promise you’ll fix that when you get home.” Referring to your still-slightly-messed-up face, he urged you, unable to refrain from making sure you took care of yourself.

You smiled sadly and nodded in response, feeling awkward about everything as you turned to walk back on your route towards the dojo. “And um,” You looked back at him once more. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” You said, assuming he wouldn’t want his Cobra Kai friends to find out he had kissed a Miyagi-Do.

His heart broke when you said this-- you basically thought he was ashamed of you? In a way you were right, he didn’t want them to know. But the guilt that spread across his face at your words, showed how badly he wanted to tell everyone just how much he liked you.

Clearing his throat, he tried to pull himself together again. “Right, yeah. See you.” He said, and watched you for a moment as you walked away.

Getting back into his car, he fought the emotions threatening to spill out, and pushed them away as he headed home. He couldn’t stop thinking about his next move, and what would happen next time he saw you.

Obviously the first thing he would want to do is kiss you, and hold you, and touch you.. but he knew that instead he would likely end up being encouraged by his friends to attack you in some way.

He couldn’t just say, ‘back off guys, she’s cool, i like her now.’ because that would definitely earn him a beating and a seat at the rejects table. He had been fighting these feelings for so long because of this exact reason, and he was pissed at himself that he couldn’t have just kept it under control for longer.

It would have been easier for him, and you. Even you were worrying as you walked to practice about what you were going to do when you saw him again. Your friends may be more forgiving than Hawk’s, but you doubted they’d be particularly thrilled about any of this news.

They would surely tell you to be careful, not to trust him, that it was just a game to find a weakness in you. These doubts inflicted your mind constantly, and it sucked that you had to figure all of it out on your own.

You were a half-hour late to karate when you arrived, and luckily Sensei Larusso had the tools to heal the remaining injuries on your face. You explained what happened with Tory, but you didn’t tell them about Hawk.

Your classmates were angry, Sam especially, and you were too. But after everything, you knew nobody in Cobra Kai was really in their right mind. Tory was an out of control girl with aggression issues, and Hawk was constantly battling a feeling of pressure and pent-up rage.

The worst thing about being in Miyagi-Do, was knowing the right way to go, and knowing that the right way was going to be a long, slow, and difficult process. It was a waiting game at this point-- how many fights would it take for the Cobra Kai kids to realize that wasn’t what they needed to do?

How much pain would they all have to endure, to realize there were better ways to solve their problems? You had only hoped that Hawk taking this step towards you was a step in the right direction-- and that maybe the rest of the Cobras would soon follow.

But until then, it was a secret. And the next few times you saw Hawk were an extreme struggle for the both of you.

Each passing day that you’d make eye contact at school, you’d both immediately look away. Neither of you had spoken or even texted since the kiss, and you were both failing miserably at proper communication.

At first, you thought that maybe the whole thing had been a mistake, and maybe it should just be left alone. But recalling everything Hawk said to you that day, you couldn’t ignore how real it felt. You wanted to be with him, but you had no clue how to go about that.

You were waiting for Hawk to make the next move, but to Hawk-- the ball was in your court. You had left him there, with no definite answer on how you felt about it, and never got back to him since. It seemed to him like you wanted to forget about it, so when one of Moon’s parties rolled around that weekend, he decided to forget about it too.

You were coming to the party, but got there late; and what a wonderful sight it was for the first thing to see as you walk in be Hawk, face inches away from another girl’s, flirting the night away.

Of course, you thought, feeling disgusted at what was in front of you. Of course everything he said was bullshit. You couldn’t figure out for the life of you what his goal was in pretending to care for you, especially when he got basically nothing out of it except a stupid kiss he could’ve gotten from anyone-- but clearly none of it was as real as you thought it was.

It’d been a few days, sure, but you thought maybe tonight you’d finally just talk to him. You watched as the girl played with the string of Hawk’s hoodie, and feeling a pang of jealousy you decided to walk by them, making sure your presence was known.

It definitely worked, because at the notice of your movements he excused himself from the conversation and followed you out towards the pool, where you had gone to get away from the sight of Hawk and the girl.

“Hey.” He whispered, as you poured yourself a drink. “Hi.” You replied boredly with your back turned to him, not exactly feeling excited to have a conversation with him.

He looked around, scoping out who may be listening, but luckily the only others outside were heavily invested in the drinking game going on at the other side of the patio.

Hawk could tell you were bothered about the girl, but didn’t understand why, since you had so obviously been avoiding him.

“Can we talk?” He asked, still being cautious as to not attract any attention. “Go ahead.” You were being difficult, but quite frankly you thought he deserved it. He made you spend days analyzing what had happened between you, only for him to move on from it after a few days?

He stomped closer, and you looked up at him. “You know we can’t talk here.” He nodded his head towards the back of the yard, hoping you’d go with him somewhere private.

You scoffed, and looked at the spot doubtfully. You were upset, but still curious to hear what he had to say. “Fine.” You rolled your eyes, feeling disappointed in yourself for giving in, but you couldn’t pretend you weren’t dying to know what the hell he was thinking.

Hawk walked eagerly to the secluded part of Moon’s property, hoping to get some clarity from you. But before Hawk could say anything, your anger got the best of you.

“So what the hell is your problem?” You started, as soon as you knew you were out of earshot from the rest of the party. Hawk looked taken aback, his eyebrows immediately coming together. “Me? What are you talking about?” He said, offended.

You looked at him in disbelief, mouth dropping open slightly. “Are you joking? Are we going to pretend you weren’t just about to make out with that girl in there?” You said, feeling a twinge of hurt from your own words.

His face knotted in confusion and annoyance. “Seriously? You’re jealous right now? After I confessed everything to you, and you avoided me for days afterwards, I was just supposed to think you actually wanted me?” He tried to keep his voice down, but his emotions were getting the better of him.

“What? I just needed some time to think! It’s not like you bothered to text me either!” You whisper-shouted, now feeling like you were missing something.

“Well when you kiss someone and they basically run away from you, who’s responsibility do you think it is to reach out after?!” He threw his arms up in bafflement, looking at you expectantly.

Your face fell to a look of guilt, and eventually his did too. Suddenly you both felt like idiots at how far you jumped to conclusions.

“I was gonna talk to you today. But when I saw you in there with that girl, all these insecurities just came over me. I thought everything you said was just some Cobra prank and it never meant anything.” Your face drooped, feeling a little embarrassed to admit any of this.

His eyes saddened, and he shook his head. “And I just thought you hated me, and that no matter what I said it’d never be enough for you to forgive me.” He explained his own worry, and your eyes started to water at his words.

Feeling overwhelmed after finally being able to piece together what had been going on this whole time, you sprung into his arms, hugging him tightly. You both stayed embraced, enjoying the feeling of comfort from each other once again, until you finally felt strong enough to pull yourself away.

He kept a hand around your head, as though cradling something delicate. “I meant everything I said that day. It’s not a scheme. I want to be with you.” He told you, proving your suspicions wrong.

You smiled weakly, feeling warm at his confession, but nervous for what’s to come. “I’m sorry I never texted you, but I just don’t get how we’re going to do this.” You said, unconvinced. “We can’t tell anyone, and despite whatever we have, there are a lot more reasons why we won’t work than will.” You look away, your mood of happiness faltering at the idea of being realistic.

“I mean, you know I like you Hawk. And maybe it’s different for us, but, I can’t exactly support the way you treat other people.” You say reluctantly, trying not to sound rude. Hawk gulped, looking down shamefully.

Not wanting to think realistically right now, he ignored what you said and pulled you closer. “We’ll figure it out.” He said sweetly, and moved his hand to lift your chin, kissing you tenderly. As nervous as you were about all of it, the way he kissed you somehow seemed to make all your worries disappear.

Just then as your lips met, sirens went off nearby. “Shit, cops?” Hawk said, breaking apart from you. You giggled at the unfortunate turn of events. “You go that way,” you pointed him in the opposite direction of where you were planning to exit, not wanting others to notice you were together. “See you around.” You said playfully, and he caught on to your plan.

Before he could give you a final peck or even say goodbye, you were gone around the corner of the house, and he wondered longingly when he’d finally be able to kiss you again.

The next couple days at school you’d both done your best to avoid looking suspicious with each other. There were many stolen glances, and lots of private texts, but you both somehow managed to keep whatever fling you two had completely under wraps.

Though you had been initially uncomfortable with the whole secret-dating-thing, you eventually gave up on worrying about what would happen if others found out. You were happy, and having a lot of fun sneaking around with Hawk.

You noticed he had even toned down some of his bullying, and your heart felt full at the thought that he might have done that for you. Of course, there were always a few ‘slip-ups’.. but he made sure you weren’t around to see those.

Even if it was difficult, it was thrilling in a way-- having make-out sessions in his car when no one was around to see, and slipping in through each others’ windows at night to see each other...

It was fun, pretending to hate each other by day, and then not being able to stay away from each other by night. It felt like the whole school was being pranked, and you two were the only ones in on it.

It had been a few weeks now since you admitted to liking each other at Moon’s party, and you were now headed to the sports shed near the soccer field where Hawk had asked you to meet him after school.

You’d came here and gotten a little wild with him twice before, so at the invitation you fully expected to be met with an aggressive Hawk, ready to hook up. But instead when you opened the shed door, he was standing shyly and gave you the sweetest smile.

“Hey,” he said, taking a small step forward to meet where you were standing. “Hi, baby,” you grinned and kissed him chastely, taking note of the more innocent energy coming from him today.

He wrapped his arms around you, his eyes examining your face adoringly. “Um,” he said, radiating nervousness and backing up slightly. “What’s up?” You smiled at him curiously, taking his hands in yours.

After only a moment, he released his hands from your hold, and you suddenly felt concerned. Why was he acting so weird? You watched confusedly as he fiddled with the inside pocket of his jacket, not saying a word.

Pulling out a small box, he opened it to reveal a simple but beautiful silver necklace. “Hawk!” You gasped, looking at it in awe. He felt more confident at your reaction, and felt safe to say something again.

“I thought that, since we always have to act around each other, you could wear it as a reminder of how we really feel.” He said, searching your expression for some sort of approval.

You stared at him in admiration, not yet able to find the words to respond. “It’s simple, so nobody will think it means anything, but, we’ll know.” He spoke again, hoping for it to grant a response from you this time.

Your face began to bloom with happiness. Taking the box from his hands, you kissed him passionately. “I love it. Can you put it on me?” You asked cheerfully, and Hawk smiled brightly. “Yeah,” he nodded excitedly, turning you around.

You did your best to move your hair out of the way, and Hawk gently pushed the few stray strands to the side. Feeling his fingers brush across your skin, you breathed heavily. You could feel his own breath hot on your neck, as he clasped the two ends of the jewelry together.

With your back still against his torso, he placed his hands around your waist, starting to leave soft kisses against your ear, and down towards your collarbone.

You closed your eyes, soaking in the feeling, until the door of the shed barged open. You stumbled away from each other in shock, and looked to see Tory standing in front of the both of you.

“I knew it! What the hell is this, Hawk?” She screamed, prowling towards you. Feeling completely unprepared from the utter suddenness of the situation, you stepped back in fear. “What are you doing here!?” Hawk shouted, ignoring Tory’s question as he blocked her path from getting to you.

She sneered at the both of you, stopping as she noticed his protectiveness over you. “I’ve noticed how you sneak off at the end of school. I finally decided to follow you here.” She said matter-of-factly, giving you a glare.

“So what is she, Hawk? Your girlfriend?” She taunted, starting to circle you. Out of everything she’d said so far, that was the thing that actually made you the most nervous. You hadn’t actually used that word before... ‘girlfriend,’ you hadn’t really made it official, despite how much it felt like you already had.

You weren’t sure how Hawk would react now that he was caught, but you desperately hoped he would say, ‘Yes, she is, and I love her.’ But that was nowhere close, to what he said.

“What? No! We’re just having some fun, alright? It doesn’t mean anything.” He forced a laugh, stepping away from you. Your heart ached. This is what you were afraid of. You knew it was probably for the best for him to have said that, but you couldn’t ignore the hurt you felt when you heard him say it.

You wished he would’ve right then and there just admitted it, stood up for himself, and chosen you. He could’ve just told the truth, and left Cobra Kai, and been with you. But you weren’t enough. He had a reputation to uphold.

“Oh, really.” Tory scoffed, barely believing his lie as she looked between the two of you. “You can have fun with anyone, Hawk, and you a choose a Miyagi-Do?” She spat, staring him down, and his usually-confident demeanor diminished instantly. “Break it off, or I tell everyone.”

Storming off, her threat lingered in the air as the two of you stood alone, unable to meet each other’s gazes.

“Maybe we should just end this, Y/N.” Hawk spoke meekly, finally breaking the silence. Your eyes widened in horror, forcing yourself to look up at him. “What?” You said, your voice faltering. “So that’s just it then?”

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes again as he met your stare. “We don’t have any other choice!” He shouted angrily, getting in your face. Your mouth fell agape at the way he was acting, your expression hardening.

“Yes, we DO!” You shouted back, and sobs started to escape you. You of course meant the choice being he stands up to the Cobras, and fights for your relationship. You understood his dilemma in the beginning, but at this point none of it seemed worth it to you anymore.

His eyes were fixated on you intensely, and his mind was running a mile a minute trying to figure out what to do.

“You can easily stand up to them, the Cobras! You’re stronger than all of them combined. Why won’t you fight for us?” You cried, searching for any sign in his face that showed he regretted his words. He had never said so, but you could tell the only thing holding him back was the fear of the Cobras’ reactions.

His insides scrambled with guilt watching you cry. But he had to stay strong. Unaffected, unfazed, completely unbothered. That’s how he forced his expression to appear as he turned and left the shed, leaving you alone and in pain as you watched your worst fear come true.

“Hawk!” You yelled after him, but he only kept walking. “What happened to never wanting to be the reason I felt pain?” Your voice cracked, and you wiped your tears from your face, giving up.

Your words cut into Hawk like a knife. If even possible, Hawk was hurting more than you. Each step he took farther away from where you stood, he felt his heart scatter into another piece. He wished things could be different, too-- but you were too much of a risk.

Cobra Kai may be a large reason for his troubles, but it was also the only reason he was still on top. He wanted you so bad, but he was too afraid to let go of everything else just to have you.

It was safer this way, he told himself. If nobody knew, you’d be safer. You wouldn’t have to be involved in the drama that would come from it, you wouldn’t have another reason for the Cobras to come after you, and you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.

Hawk repeated these things to himself over and over to make himself feel better about the way things ended. But no matter what he told himself, it was never enough for him to fully believe that he made the right choice.

Feeling helpless, you called the only person you thought might understand. “D-Demetri?” You spoke into the phone, taking a gasp for air between sobs.

“Y/N? Are you ok?” He answered, sounding worried. “I need to talk to you, can you-” You paused, trying to catch your breath. “Can you come get me?” You were nervous he wouldn’t be able to, but you needed someone in person, not over text.

You and Demetri weren’t particularly besties, so for you to call him out of the blue, crying, was extremely worrisome to him. “Uh, yeah, okay sure. I only just left so I can turn back.”

Letting out a shaky breath of relief, you thanked Demetri and hung up, walking out of the shed and towards the front of the school to where he would be meeting you. Hawk was supposed to be your ride home, but clearly that was no longer an option.

When Demetri arrived, he didn’t wait for you to get in the car, he immediately got out and walked over to you. “What happened?” He said cautiously, becoming nervous about having to deal with others’ emotions.

He was never particularly great at consolation, being the awkward and blunt person he is-- and he really didn’t want to make things worse for you.

“It’s Eli,” You said, trying to hold back your tears. “I did something really stupid.” Your lip quivered, feeling embarrassed talking about it. You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about you and Hawk, but at this point, you had nothing left to lose.

Demetri looked at you confused. “What do you mean?” To his knowledge, you and Hawk barely conversed, and there should be absolutely no reason whatsoever for you to be crying over him.

The closer you got to explaining it, the harder it got to contain your emotions. Despite knowing Demetri wasn’t very keen on hugs, you ran into him, desperate for the feeling of comfort.

At this point, Demetri’s level of concern was on the rise. Why on earth would you hug him? That’s never happened before. “I just thought you’d be the only one who would understand... if I told someone.” You spoke, words slightly muffled as you were pressed into his chest.

Reluctantly, Demetri accepted your hug and rested his arms around you. “Okay, Y/N, you’re scaring me. What did he do?” He asked, looking down at you.

Gaining the courage to explain yourself, to Demetri’s relief you let go of him and steadied your breathing. “A few weeks ago.. Hawk and I kissed.” You said hesitantly, preparing for the worst.

“What?” Demetri’s face scrunched into the most confused and offended look you’d ever seen him wear. “I know, okay, just wait.” You told him, hoping he would hear you out.

“I thought it was just a stupid mistake, or something?” You began, recalling the uncertainty you felt when it first happened. “But then he said all this stuff about how much he cared about me, and it turns out we actually have something real.”

Aware of the weirdness of what you were saying, you looked to see how Demetri was handling it. He showed a look of understanding, but you could tell he was simply masking the discomfort he was truly feeling. “It was really confusing at first, but then we started secretly dating.. because we knew everyone would flip if they found out.” You continued, the awkwardness worsening with each sentence spoken.

Demetri’s eyebrows rose. “Dating?” You visibly cringed at the reaction, but carried on with your story. “And he even started being nicer to people!” You mentioned, hoping to make the situation seem like you weren’t a complete idiot for allowing it to happen. “Because, I told him I didn’t think I could be with him-- with the way he treats people, you know? And things were actually going well until today--”

You took a moment, preparing the end of your explanation in the hopes you wouldn’t start to cry through it. Demetri looked at you impatiently.

“When Tory found us together and threatened to tell everyone about us if we didn’t break it off, and then Hawk just left me there and said that we should end things because he’s a coward and can’t do what’s right because HE WANTS TO LOOK COOL.” You shouted, running through the sentences fast and furiously. Instead of getting sad like you thought you would, you got angry. Ah yes, another stage of grief.

Demetri looked slightly scared of you at your sudden tantrum, but having heard your story, he did understand what you were feeling-- because in a way, it had happened to him too. This time, it was him who reached out to hug you, and you appreciated him for it. Hugs always seemed to make you feel calm.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know how it feels. He’s stuck right now, but we can’t give up, okay? He’ll come around.” He said honestly, awkwardly patting your back. You laughed a tiny bit, seeing Demetri trying to console, but you were grateful for his presence.

You released each other from the hug, and you wiped any leftover tears off of your face. “Thanks, Demetri.” You said, smiling sweetly. He nodded, placing his hand on your arm in reassurance, and motioned for you to follow to his car.

The ride back to your house was quiet, but your thoughts were busy and loud. That’s how things were for awhile after that day. You kept to yourself again, and though you tried to look alive, you felt like you had retreated back inside the bubble you worked so hard to get out of.

You went to school, you went to karate, you did whatever responsibilities you had to do-- but for the rest of your free time, you spent it alone in your room, wondering what it would take for Hawk to come back to you.

It was unhealthy, really, how you would wait everyday for a sign of acknowledgement from Hawk, and decline any other social invitation because you never got one.

You even wore the necklace, everyday, in hopes that he’d notice and remember how much you meant to him. But it never worked. He never came back.

You got away with the isolation for awhile, but people were starting to notice how you’ve been pulling away. At least you had Demetri to cover for you once and awhile, to help keep up the facade that you were okay.

Because, you weren’t. You wondered if Hawk was, though. He certainly seemed like he was okay, but he couldn’t be. For your own peace of mind, you had to think he couldn’t be. To think that he was doing just fine while you were spending your days miserable, wouldn’t be fair.

He’s stuck right now, but he’ll come around. Demetri’s words echoed in your head, wondering if they were even true. Would he ever really come around? Is he in too deep? The thoughts scared you beyond belief, but as more days passed, the more you believed them.

You eventually forced yourself to stop caring. To stop thinking about it, and to just give it up. You’d spent too long waiting for him, and you were done letting his actions control your happiness. Although there was a part of you that could never really stop caring, you convinced yourself that it was gone.

After a few weeks, you stopped wearing the necklace. When you showed up to school without it on, it was the first time Hawk had noticeably looked at you since the breakup. He always avoided your eye contact, but that day he locked them onto yours as you passed him in the hall. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your neck, and you could see the glum look all over his face.

As much as you wanted to give in to the hope that he missed you, you ignored it. You weren’t going to let any of those thoughts in again-- not when you already worked so hard to let go of them.

Hawk watched you make your way through the corridors, hardly caring who noticed. While you may have had the ability to attempt to move on, he didn’t. It was his fault any of this happened after all, and it was completely up to him whether or not he could fix things between you.

The pressure of knowing he was the only reason for your and his despair was agonizing, and with the necklace no longer around your neck, he realized he was running out of time.

Time is what he thought he had, to turn things around for himself, and you. But his window was closing, and he was panicking.

Not knowing what else to do, Hawk waited a few blocks away from where you trained at Miyagi-Do, knowing he’d catch you on your walk home.

Making your way down the sidewalk after practice, you were completely unsuspecting when Hawk jumped out of his car and jogged towards you.

Things had really come full circle now, hadn’t they? You, walking home on that same sidewalk, pure disgust for Hawk in your veins as he tried to catch up with you.

You stopped short as Hawk stood in front of you, blocking your path. You were nervous and confused at his intrusion, and decided not to bother avoiding him right now.

His stare towards you was intense, and you only glared back, waiting for him to say what he needed to say.

“You stopped wearing the necklace.” He said it so plainly, you couldn’t tell what kind of response he was looking for. It seemed almost like a question in disguise-- why did you stop wearing the necklace, perhaps?

He was looking at you eagerly, though trying to hide the desperation behind the statement.

“Yeah, and?” You laughed at him, matching his tone of carelessness. He looked like he didn’t understand, so you continued. “What’d you expect? That I’d just keep waiting for you?” You said unpleasantly, with a hint of sadness in your own voice.

A shameful look glossed over his features, but you only kept going. “It’s obvious you’re not coming back, Hawk.” You smile at him mockingly, enjoying the feeling of guilt you were giving him.

He tried to stay strong, but every word you spoke was like a hit to his built-up walls, and they were so close to falling down.

“I spent weeks wondering what I’d have to do to get you to come back to me. To choose me.” You said, your voice calm, but the rest of you not. Your body was shaking with anger now, but your eyes were brimming with tears.

“Until,” You sniffled, gaining a tone of indifference, “I finally realized there was nothing for me to do. You just weren’t coming.” You were almost smiling through the pain, and Hawk looked at you in a loss for words.

You appeared so fragile to him, he just wanted to wrap you in his arms and spout apology after apology for what he’d caused. Seeing your eyes squint in attempt to hold back the waterworks, physically pained him.

“So yeah, I stopped wearing the necklace. But you know what?” You stepped forward confidently, despite the single tear that had just fallen down your face. “I think it hurt more wearing it than it did taking it off.” You finished with hardly any emotion in your voice, and Hawk looked mortified seeing you try to act so unaffected.

He had been silent through your whole exchange, because he knew there was nothing he could say now to make things better. He had done too much damage, and he had caused you too much pain. He did exactly what he said he’d never do.

You waited for him to say something, anything-- but as your eyes bore into his strongly, he couldn’t find the courage to speak. The disappointment was immense, and feeling hopeless once again, you pushed past him to go home.

Panicking at your leave, Hawk grabbed onto your arm. “Y/N, Wait, please-” “No!” You cut him off, looking at him coldly. His face was red, and his eyes were stinging now, too. Ignoring the feeling you got when you saw him like that, you ripped your arm from his grasp. “I’ve waited long enough.”

You turned to leave again, and this time, Hawk didn’t follow. There was only one thing Hawk could do now to get you back, and you knew he wasn’t ready for it. There was no use in you hanging around for him anymore, you deserved better. You deserved someone who cared enough that they’d do what it takes to be with you, regardless of social status.

You didn’t even care if he stayed in Cobra Kai, you just wanted him to stand up to his friends and be proud that he was with you. Didn’t he realize that he was one of the strongest Cobras, and that he could get through any of their shit? If his biggest problem was Tory, he hardly had any reason to stay quiet. You knew deep down he could do better.

Hawk hadn’t understood that then, but as he lingered on you walking away, something clicked in his head.

Maybe he really could do better. He wanted to, for you. He was still terrified at the idea of coming clean to the Cobras, but whatever he’d deal with from that couldn’t be any worse than being without you.

He liked the power he had being in Cobra Kai, and he hoped that he could keep it-- but if losing the power meant gaining you, at this point he was totally okay with that risk. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t at least try to negotiate with his friends first.

“Y/N!” It was a new day at school, and you were walking side by side Sam heading to your lunch table when he called your name. You shared a look with Sam, glancing towards him with a bothered look upon your face. “Come here!” Hawk shouted again, apparently not caring that the whole cafeteria had his attention.

A look of dread spread across your face, and you slammed your lunch tray on your friends’ table in defeat before stomping over to where Hawk and his asshole friends sat. Your friends watched from afar, completely clueless as to what Hawk would need you for, and Demetri struggled to pretend he was just as lost as they were.

“What.” You said bluntly, staring him and the rest of his table down. “Yeah, seriously, what are you doing calling her over here?” Mitch asked, looking at you in revulsion, and you rolled your eyes at him.

Hawk looked between you and his friends, struggling to keep his confident manner in tact, and sighed uncomfortably. “I know we don’t like the Miyagi-Dos. And we don’t like the way they run their dojo.” He stated, hoping to hook his friends in by starting negatively towards their rivals.

His friends looked at him in reluctance, wondering where he was going with this-- and you did too. “But I love Y/N.” He said loudly, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and looking around at his friends. He was more nervous to see your reaction than theirs, so he barely looked at you once he said it.

“What?” The words came strongly from not only his friends, but you, too. He had never told you that before, and your heart melted at his declaration. When you spoke, he gathered the courage to look at you, and you’d never seen him so nervous.

“I love you.” He repeated, looking you in the eyes. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and on top of that he was announcing it to the whole school. You glanced over to see Demetri, mouth ajar, observing the interaction like it were a movie.

He meant it, and you could tell. He was waiting on you for a response, feeling more stress than he’d felt in a long time as he studied your bewildered expression.

Before you could say anything, Bert interrupted the moment. “You can’t love a Miyagi-Do. They’re stuck-up pansies who think they’re better than us.” He said, completely convinced that Hawk was out of his mind and needed a wake-up call.

Hawk cringed a little at the feedback, but was surprised when you decided to bite back. “I joined Miyagi-Do because I was tired of people getting bullied. You all choose violence when it isn’t needed, so I just wanted to be prepared.” You defended your intentions, fearlessly.

Tory snorted. “Oh yeah? And how’s that working out for you?” She jabbed, trying to make fun of your self defense skills. Before you could retort, Hawk slammed his hand down on the table and leaned in towards his peers.

“Listen! I’m with you guys, but she’s right. We’ve been reckless.” He said carefully, trying to keep a balance between who’s side he was on. “Sensei told us to fight smart, and we haven’t been.” He locked eyes with Tory, clearly sending her a message.

You watched as Hawk tried to reason with them, admiring his every move. Keeping up his confidence, he set down what was going to happen, and there’d be no arguments against it. “You guys can hate the Miyagi-Dos all you want, but I’m going to be with Y/N, and I’m staying in Cobra Kai.”

Interlacing his hand with yours, he looked at you pridefully before turning back to the outraged looks on his friends’ faces. “From now on, if any one of you touches her, you deal with me. That’s of course if she doesn’t kick your ass first.” He said smugly, and you smiled widely, feeling content at his speech.

Your heart was jumping out of your chest at the gesture he made, and you wanted to smash your lips onto his and tell him how much you loved him back-- but you kept yourself restrained for the sake of the situation.

Most of the Cobras nodded nervously at his announcement, not wanting to challenge Hawk when he was so sure of himself. But Tory wasn’t having it. “You guys can’t seriously be okay with this?” She snapped, death-glaring the entire table.

The group looked like they were trying to decide whether they were more afraid of Hawk, or Tory. You smiled to yourself, knowing that no matter their reaction, you had won this, because you were with him now. It would certainly be a bonus if you gained their acceptance, though.

Mitch looked around in uncertainty about what he was going to say, but stuck up for Hawk. “Come on Tory, I mean, I get it... she’s hot.” He said referring to you, and you laughed a little at the shallow but positive response.

Hawk wasn’t as pleased with it though. “Hey.” He threatened, pointing a finger at Mitch. You giggled slightly at his jealous reaction, but pulled him back from Mitch by the hand you were holding his with. Mitch raised his hands in surrender, and Tory stood from the table, getting close to the both of you.

“You’d better sleep with one eye open, assholes.” She spat, and stormed away from the table. It went better than you would’ve thought, truthfully. Everyone else was loyal to Hawk, and you didn’t really expect anything less from Tory. Again, having Tory be your only threat seemed like small potatoes now that you two were together.

You nodded at the rest of the Cobras in respect, and with that whole thing being over, you tugged him by the hand towards your table of Miyagi-Dos. Hawk groaned, realizing where you were taking him, but did his best to stay civil.

Chris glowered at the both of you, and Sam looked a little disappointed, but she tried to look supportive. “So.... yeah. Sorry.” You said sheepishly, knowing that they had already heard everything.

“I’m glad it finally worked out.” Demetri said through a sad smile. You felt a little bad, knowing that Demetri still needed to work out his relationship with Hawk, and here you were rubbing yours in his face. That would be your next mission, you suppose-- operation get Demetri and Hawk to be friends again.

“Thanks, Dem.” You said appreciatively, and Hawk looked suspiciously between the two of you. “Wait, did you tell him before?” He asked defensively. The whole table looked to you and Demetri curiously, and you crossed your arms sassily.

“Uh, did I call someone to come get me after you left me alone in a shed? Yeah.” You recovered, your facial expression sly as you knew he couldn’t come back from that one. The others looked at him exasperatedly at your response, and his face dropped instantly.

“Oh my god, Y/N I am so sorry about that.” He cowered, immediately dropping it, and you laughed at the remorse he was finally showing. You already knew he was sorry, but you guess it was nice to hear him say it.

He didn’t understand why you were laughing, though. He felt awful. And he also really needed a chance to completely apologize to you in private, now that he had already confessed his true feelings.

Suddenly, he picked you up entirely, arms holding your legs and you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. “Whoah, what is happening?” You laughed, looking at your friends who all looked just as puzzled as you.

Without saying anything else, he took off out of the lunch room carrying you, and made his way to the nearest exit to the outdoors. “Babe, where are we going?” You cackled, amused at the adventure he was taking you on.

Finally outside and alone, he let you down gently in front of him, and took your hands in his lightly. “I’m so sorry. For all of it. I was a complete idiot for letting you go. You knew all along that we could do it, and I was too busy being a pussy to even try. And I’m really sorry for everything that went down today, I hope you aren’t mad, I literally told you I loved you in front of everyone and that must’ve been awkward, I mean you didn’t even get to respond, which, now that I think about it maybe you didn’t want to, or--”

You silenced his rambling with a forceful kiss, grabbing the sides of his face with your hands. “I love you too, Hawk.” You said, pulling away from the kiss quickly, to give him the response he had been looking for.

He smiled big in return, and it turned your insides to mush. “You know, I realized we never got the chance to make things official.” He looked up at you cutely and you smiled back, knowing what was coming.

“So, will you be my girlfriend?” He asked charmingly, his face mere inches from yours. Blushing furiously, you nodded as you touched your forehead to his. “Mhm,” You said in agreement, grinning.

He took a moment, just admiring the look of you so happy, and with his manner still playful, he reminded you of something you had said before. “See? I came back to you.” He said proudly.

You looked at him lovingly, feeling a little emotional at the sentiment. His expression turned serious now, and he parted from you only slightly. “I’m gonna do better for you, Y/N. I promise.” He spoke lowly, and you put your hands on his shoulders, beaming at him in acknowledgement.

You stepped forwards again, getting closer to him. He gave a seductive smirk at your movement, and you subconsciously traced your fingers along his neck, fixated on his face more than anything.

Hawk stared back at you affectionately, his attention flickering down towards your lips. Feeling bold, he placed his hands dangerously low on your waist, and pulled you in roughly for another kiss. You quickly reacted, letting your hands travel to the nape of his neck, your mouth opening slightly-- allowing Hawk the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Your lips stayed connected as Hawk’s hands made their way up your back, his chest pressing closer to yours. As much as you wanted to continue, you were in broad daylight right outside the halls of your school-- and you really didn’t want a detention for too much PDA.

“Mm, Hawk-” You giggled, breaking away from him. “Hm?” He smiled, his hands resting loosely on your waist as he pecked your lips again before letting you free. “If we don’t go back in soon we’ll miss the whole lunch period.” You said, disappointedly.

“Eh, that’s fine with me.” He shrugged, smirking at you as he clutched you closer. You scoffed playfully, hitting him lightly, and gave him one last kiss before escaping his grip.

He pouted at you, and you looked back at him mischievously. He missed your touch already, so he snaked his arm around your waist as you walked back inside to satisfy his need of holding you.

You felt on top of the world with him by your side, now having full confidence in him and his feelings for you. “It’s a good thing I still have the necklace, huh?” You teased, looking back up at him, and Hawk smiled, tilting his head to meet your gaze.

Though your comment may have only been a joke, both of you felt whole at the idea of you wearing the necklace-- and as you walked joyfully through the halls with him, you knew you’d never be taking it off again.

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i just wanna talk about real quick how much i cringe when writing like its actually terrible how much i cringe at myself so idk if i’ll keep doing fics or not HAHAH but y’all can always send requests and i’ll get around to them if i can. hope yall liked this one tho and made it through the whole thing cuz yikes.

#cobra kai #eli moskowitz #eli hawk moskowitz #hawk #jacob bertrand #eli hawk moskowitz cobra kai #eli moskowitz cobra kai #hawk moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai hawk #hawk moskowitz cobra kai #eli moskowitz imagine #hawk imagine #eli hawk moskowitz imagine

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olderthanthemorning · 3 years

Text

champagne (peter parker)

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: was the bottle of champagne a going away present or a plead to stay?

wc: 1.4k

warnings: alcohol (no drinking but like intention to drink?), one curse word

a/n: hey y'all ! this is based on the song "champagne" from in the heights. i really love the song, it's so beautiful and climactic but also really sad so i tried to turn it into something! as always, please send me stuff like feedback and requests!

your best friend. he was your best friend and now he was going to go work at stark industries, just like you guys always talked about. you were so proud of peter for getting that internship with tony stark, and you knew how excited he was for it, so why did your heart sink whenever you thought about it? childhood best friends did separate things all the time, what was one summer of peter in another city? it's not like it was one of the last summers you guys had together before real life took over. it's not like you had been waiting all year to spend this summer together and had made a list of things to do. it wasn't like that at all. except it was. but regardless of how it was, you had to be the person that supported him, because you knew he would've done the same to you. so there you stood, outside his place with a bottle of cheap champagne you had gotten your cousin to buy for you. you practiced your most genuine small once more and knocked, hearing shuffling inside.

the door swung open to reveal peter, with disheveled hair and a t-shirt that was just a little bit too small. he smiled at you. "is that the science fair t-shirt from freshman year?" he looked down at the ratty shirt, like he forgot he was wearing something that fit him like a tight crop top. "oh yeah..." he chuckled, "you know when you're packing and you can't decide if you should bring something so you try it on to see if you could picture yourself wearing it? i guess i got carried away." you walked past him into his apartment, looking around at your second home. "while it makes your muscles look huge, i'm not sure that will follow an engineering internship's dress code," you turn back to him so you can admire the smile he offered to your joke. you were careful to keep the bottle out of his line of vision, "I brought you something," you wiggled your eyebrows. "got any plans for the rest of the night?"

"just finishing my packing, i have an early morning tomorrow." he pulled his tiny shirt off and reached for another that was sitting on a box.

"come on, be done. it's your last night." you watched as he pulled the new, fitting, t-shirt over his head and down his torso.

"i know, but..."

"peter, please? you owe me one date before you go." he blushed and his eyes widened. peter had always been a bashful kid, you could remember an incident in elementary school when the woman serving them lunch had called him sugar, and he turned as pink as his strawberry milk.

"um yeah, yeah okay."

you revealed the bottle from behind your back, "to officially celebrate you. i thought it'd be very grown up of us. it's a little cheesy in hindsight i guess." you handed it to him.

"no," peter said a little too quickly, "thank you. i'm gonna open it."

"you're going to have so much fun this summer. it's just like we used to dream about, inventing things. and with tony stark? that's huge peter."

he chuckled nervously, "yeah, i'm lucky i was accepted. it will be good experience." he was focused on trying to get the foil off the neck of the bottle that was covered in condensation.

"lucky? don't pretend it was luck that got you that," peter's eyes shot to yours, "it's obvious why stark thought you were special." he looked down at the bottle again, moving slowly as to listen to what you might say next. "you're the smartest kid in our class, and the smartest person i know, which is saying something because i know myself." peter exhaled, and you got the feeling he had been holding that breath in for a few seconds.

"i just can't get this stupid thing open," his hands grabbed at the cork.

"here, let me help," you reached out your hand to take the bottle.

"no i got it, i can do it," his words came out harsh, but not in an angry way, in a desperate way. like he was trying to convince himself and not you.

"hey, it's okay," you placed your hands over his as they finally stilled.

"i'm just scared. what if i let someone down?" you realized how tired peter looked, and you suddenly felt bad for pestering him into plans. "what if i can't do my job well and i disappoint everyone?" you were slightly confused about why peter thought his unpaid internship was so high stakes, but when you saw how anxious you looked you pushed it aside. you pulled the champagne completely from his grasp and placed it on the table. then you returned to him and pulled a chair next to his, putting one arm around one of his shoulders and placing your chin on the other.

"that's not going to happen, peter. i know i said you're the smartest person i know, and you are. but more importantly, you're the most hardworking and passionate person i know. i've never seen you do anything half-assed." you both stayed silent for a few moments and listened to each other breathing, thinking about what to say next. "can i say something selfish?" you ask, your face still close to his, but not facing him.

"sure."

"don't go."

"what?" he turned towards you, prompting you to pull away from his shoulder and look at him.

"stay here. you could easily find an internship here, especially since you have iron man's recommendation."

"usually you have to work for someone before they write you a recommendation," he says, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"you know what i mean."

"no, i don't."

"i'm trying to say you don't need this crazy far away job yet. plenty of people don't get internships like that for another two years."

"you're working this summer too remember?" you can hear a slight change in tone in peter's voice. it went from ignorant confusion to growing frustration in his confusion.

"please, i'm working in manhattan. i'm living at home, you're moving away. it's our last summer together for god knows how long, and you're leaving." it was true. you also had an internship, but you knew that this wasn't about work, and you thought peter might know that too.

"i can't just quit now, mr. stark is counting on me. i told you." you started to wish you hadn't said anything. not only was peter leaving but now you're last conversation you two was going to be an argument.

"i know but–" he cut you off.

"you told me to take the opportunity, i don't know why you're mad at me!"

"i'm not mad, i just–" this time you stopped yourself. you weren't mad. you were hurt. you were disappointed, in yourself, both for not saying anything earlier, and for saying anything at all. you were sad. you were heartbroken. so you did what you thought might give you some closure. you felt your legs carry you straight in front of peter and you kissed him.

the world felt like it stopped. it wasn't like fireworks like the movies always said. because while it was a first kiss, it was a goodbye kiss. the moment your lips touched his, you knew it was just one more thing for him to take with him when he left. the kiss was practically perfect. peter's arms went around your waist in a gentle but reassuring way. it wasn't hungry or lustful, it was textbook girl-gets-the-guy and they kiss in the rain at the end of the movie. it's like he had been waiting for you to do this. and it was all for nothing. you pulled away, after a beat you opened your eyes and met his, which were searching for an answer. "i'm just too late," you said, you tried to offer a small smile but you felt a lump form in your throat. you turned and walked towards the door. before turning the handle of the knob, you took a deep breath and looked back at him, your best friend. "i'm really proud of you peter," you waited a second and continued, "and i love you." you had both said these words before but now you both knew they meant something different. you closed the door behind you and walked down the hall, thinking about how peter would be saving the world this summer while you would be picking up the pieces to yours.

a/n part 2: ok so honestly i wrote this with a happy ending originally but i hated it so much so i stuck with angst. sorry about it. anyway, happy summer y'all. see you when i see you.

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passionfruitbowls · 4 years

Text

rose-tinted glasses

Summary:

Chat Noir decides to take Ladybug out on a date for Valentine’s - as civilians.

Rated: T Pairing(s): Ladynoir Word Count: 1,172

A/N: This was inspired by @buggachat‘s post - I had this idea stuck in my head so I decided to write it as a Valentine’s Day fic. Hope you enjoy it!

Read on AO3

—————————

The cold air nipped at Ladybug’s face as she stood beside the café’s front door, prompting her to pull the scarf she was wearing over her nose as a sort of makeshift snood. Looking up and down the street once more, she sighed to herself in frustration. Chat Noir should’ve been there by now!

She was just about ready to give up hope when, as if she had summoned him there by sheer force of will, a hand tapped her gently on the shoulder and made her turn around.

“Ladybug?”

A smile spread across her face as she took in the sight of him. Sure enough, there was her kitty, all dressed up in a puffy black winter coat with a large pair of sunglasses to match, his hair as wild and messy as ever. They might have technically been civilians at that moment, but Chat’s style was so quintessentially, well, Chat that it made him hard to miss. He also looked very huggable.

Screw it, Ladybug thought as she pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Hey, Chaton.” She murmured as he hugged her back, humming quietly against the soft material of his coat. He was warm, unlike the weather that gave her goosebumps and made her teeth chatter; she could have gladly stayed there in his arms for hours.

When they eventually pulled back, he looked her up and down and smiled at her in awe.

“You look amazing,” He said, reaching forward and taking her gloved hand in his. She sensed her face turning red - whether it was from the cold or his compliment, she didn’t know.

Ladybug gazed over at the entrance to the café and shot Chat an inviting look.

“Shall we?” She asked, linking their arms together. He grinned and gave her hand a gentle squeeze in response.

“We shall.”

The place was very well-lit, with pastel pink fairy lights hanging on the walls and music playing from a small stereo on the counter. There were few people around, fortunately, leaving them with plenty of options on where to sit. After a couple of minutes they settled on a table for two by the window and placed their orders, leaving them to take in the scenery.

“You weren’t kidding when you told me this place was cute,” Ladybug said as her eyes glossed over everything.

Chat wiggled his eyebrows playfully at her.

“I knew you’d like it.”

It had originally been his idea to go out on a date as their civilian selves for Valentine’s, although it had taken a lot of persuasion - as well as her suggestion that they use sunglasses as a disguise - before Ladybug finally agreed to it. The café they’d ended up choosing was fairly standard, but they were well-dressed for the occasion.

Chat wore a slim-fitting black tuxedo with a bright green tie, whereas Ladybug had decided to go with a sleeveless, crimson-red top and a black skirt (which she was now regretting due to the harsh February breeze), both outfits a tribute to their superhero suits.

For a few minutes they sat in silence, and Ladybug noticed that Chat seemed rather nervous. His shoulders were hunched forward slightly, his jaw clenched together as though he was waiting for something bad to happen, and he was drumming his fingers incessantly against the table.

She frowned and tilted her head.

“Is something wrong?”

“Erm…”

He paused and began massaging the back of his neck with his hand - something he commonly did whenever he grew anxious.

“I dunno, I just feel kind of… overdressed.” He said, gesturing vaguely down at his tuxedo. Ladybug felt an immense wave of relief wash over her; that’s what he had been stressing about?

She laughed and shook her head in disbelief.

“I mean…”

Looking at him one more time, Ladybug couldn’t help but agree with him. His clothes did look extremely expensive - where on Earth had he gotten them from? Had he simply gone out and spent a load of money on some suit he would probably never wear again, just because he thought it would please her?

Smiling, she reached out across the table and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. She loved her kitty, she really did, but he had a bit of a tendency to go over-the-top sometimes.

“You kind of are overdressed, let’s face it, but that’s not what matters. As long as I’m here with you, I’m happy. It’s the thought that counts.”

He grinned and pressed a quick kiss to the back of her hand.

“Thank you, m’lady. You always know how to cheer me up."

They spent the next hour or so talking about anything and everything, from school exams (“Ugh, don’t even get me started on the midterms.” “I know, right?”) to their plans for tomorrow evening’s patrol. While they talked, Ladybug couldn’t help but smile at how right it all felt, being here with him and having a quiet day to themselves. No akumas, no Hawkmoth, no worries. It was… nice.

As she looked up at him through her rose-tinted glasses, she began to wonder about what their future Valentines’ together might hold. Hushed whispers and giggles in the other’s ear as they lay side-by-side on the rooftops, maybe, or exchanging soft and bittersweet kisses in the aftermath of a long and tiring fight.

Perhaps one day, she thought, they would be able to enjoy those tender moments without a mask between them, at long last getting to call each other by name.

Suddenly he started to laugh after she had impulsively told him a joke (his puns must’ve been taking a toll on her), and her heart swelled with affection for him. There was something so pure about his smile and the sound of his laughter and the twinkle in his eyes that made her stomach do somersaults, and also made her want to lean forward and kiss him senseless.

So that’s just what she did.

At first he seemed taken aback, his body going tense in shock, but soon he was kissing her back and pulling her closer, their breaths mingling and noses bumping as they fell into a slow and gentle rhythm. His hands came up to cup her face as she grabbed onto the collar of his shirt to deepen the kiss, and she was sure she heard a small moan escape his lips.

By the time they came back up for air they were breathless and blushing furiously, unable to contain the grins on their faces. Ladybug knew then that she didn’t need to know Chat’s real name to be sure that she loved him - she loved him for his charm and wit, for his selflessness, for the way he somehow always managed to make her smile when she was feeling down.

Unable to stop herself, the words suddenly tumbled from her lips in a flurry of love and hopefulness.

“I love you.” She said, holding her breath in anticipation.

He smiled and, leaning forward, kissed her softly again.

“I love you too.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #my writing #valentine’s fic

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feminaexlux · 4 years

Text

Branded

It’s the @lukanette-exchange fic! After a long while it’s here!! @kingsglaivian I hope you enjoy! Also thanks to LBSC and @quickspinner in particular for finding the cool soulmark prompt lol

I am super, super excited to share this with you!

Original prompts: “childhood friends AU, soulmate AU, and an AU of the exchangee's choice.”

∴

It’d been just a few minutes after they first met when she first wrote her name on him.

She had come closer and stared over his shoulder when she saw he’d been drawing something. Was it a drawing? It looked like he had been drawing circles on a bunch of lines. Oh, Maman had showed her how music was written, it was music! “Hi! Are you drawing music?” She had asked cheerfully.

The boy had startled, apparently not having seen Marinette earlier. His pencil had marked across the entire page. “Aah!”

“Oh no!” Marinette whined. “You messed up!”

“Y-you made me do that,” he frowned. “You scared me.”

“Are you drawing music?” Marinette continued asking.

“Oh, yeah, yeah I am,” he said, turning the pencil around and erasing the errant mark. “I think about music all the time.”

“So what does that mean?” she asked, poking at his paper.

“That’s uh… that's…” he thought a bit. “I think that’s D and the next one is F and another D but this one’s higher. It’s a song from a video game.”

“You play video games?! Papa and I play games too!”

They talked back and forth about a bunch of different little things and he completely forgot what he’d been doing. Then it got to the point where Marinette had pulled out one of her markers and started writing her name on his arm. “– and if stays tomorrow it means you found your true love!” Marinette smiled up at the boy she’d been talking to. He looked like he was a few years older. Maybe he was even 10? Maybe he was younger, he looked really kinda small to be 10.

She was at the playground next to her family’s bakery. She’d been running around and playing with a few other kids there, but she saw this one boy sitting by a tree in the shade. He looked like he was alone and Marinette wondered if he’d been bullied. She knew what that was like, even at the tender age of 5. But it was easy to talk to this boy, he was much less Crazy Mean Boy than Kim was. He was more like Nino! And Nino was nice.

“Is that your name?” the boy asked, staring at her neatly written letters. “Marinette?”

“Yeah!”

“So if it stays tomorrow you’re my true love?” He asked, confused. “Mom told me that writing names on other people is bad… But why?”

“Maman and Papa have their names on each other’s arms,” Marinette said. “It’s not bad! Oh but you have to draw over it ‘cause it’s important that you do it,” Marinette added.

“Why?”

“It’s important,” she clarified. It looked like he was going to keep asking why until his mom called out.

“Ay laddie, it’s time to go,” a lady with a long braid said in their general direction. She had a girl on her hip and was walking over to the boy. “Why hello there lass, are ye makin’ friends with me boy?”

“I’m Marinette,” she said up to the lady. She wasn’t Lass, she wanted to say.

Marinette saw the boy quickly pull down his sleeves from his hoodie to hide her name. “Itwasnicetomeetyoubye,” he said quickly, before Marinette could whine about him hiding her name. He ran away to hold onto his mom’s hand. “Let’s go mom,” he continued, pulling his mom away in a slightly embarrassed fashion.

“Don’t ye want to say farewell? We won’t be ashore fer a while son.” Well, she didn’t know at the time he had wanted to run away and hide so the nice new girl wouldn’t be weirded out by his mom like most people were.

“See you tomorrow!” Marinette yelled after him.

She didn’t.

∴

It’d been just a few days after they first met.

Luka scrubbed and scrubbed at the M on his wrist but it wasn’t coming out. He’d scrubbed himself raw at the sink, his flesh feeling tender and his skin close to bleeding. He’d written over the girl’s marker with a pen a few days ago, idly curious if the mark would stay. At least he’d written over just the M, thinking about the nice girl who’d been curious about him.

“Luka?” He heard his mom call out. No, no, no. It wasn’t coming out and his mom would see it and she’d freak out and he’d have to make an excuse or find some of her makeup or something. He’d been told to take off his hoodie by… that man and so he ran back to the bathroom to try to do something about the M on his wrist.

Anarka opened the door. “Luka, my boy what are ye–” Oh no oh no she saw the mark. He put his hands back in the sink and kept scrubbing, starting to cry. “Luka what…” His mom started, initially alarmed and then… and then she came over to hug him.

“Mom what do I do?” He cried. “It’s not coming out!”

“Who'd… no, it doesn’t matter. Luka stop doing that, it’s not going to come out. It doesn’t, lad.” His mom took his hands from the sink and started to dry them. “It stays no matter how hard ye try to get rid o’ it.” She spoke to him with the rare moment of solemnity. “Ye'e been Branded, and there’s nothin we can do about it.”

“I don’t wanna be Branded!” he wailed.

In a quiet, heated hiss Anarka whispered “This is why I told ye to never write names on yerself!” She looked at her son crying and sighed, shaking her head. Luka would realize later she’d been more disappointed in herself that she’d let him get Branded like he did. She thought she warned him, but how could she blame him for something no one ever thought would happen at 7 years old?

Who finds their soulmate at 7?

But it’d be a shackle for the rest of his life. Luka would grow up wondering if this M would ever be part of his life again, whether M would even want to be his partner. If he did find someone else to be his partner, they’d wonder if they’d ever be loved like whoever this M was. “Here,” Anarka sighed. “Ye can’t get rid of that Luka. But ye can cover it. Forget about it now, lad,” she said gently, taking off the wide leather cuff she had on that had covered her own Brand. “This 'ere’s yers now. I’ll get ye all freshened up. Granpa’s waitin for us,” Anarka said, pasting on a fake smile.

Luka hated that man. He was angry and hateful and mean, but Anarka had wanted to see her own Ma again, to have her Ma help guide Anarka in the raising of two children Anarka never originally planned to have. Granma was nice. But Granpa? No. Luka swore to himself he’d never be like Granpa.

His mom put the cuff around Luka’s Brand, looping twice to fit the small wrist better. “All covered up now. Is that fitting, Luka?” He nodded, staring at the “S” on his mom’s wrist.

“Was… that dad?” Luka asked, pointing at the Brand.

Anarka laughed. “It stands for Scotland,” she said lightly. “It stands for the Sea. It’s not yer da, no,” Anarka lied.

∴

It’d been a few weeks since Marinette met Adrien Agreste.

She’d been convinced Adrien was her True Love, and was continually disappointed every morning when his name disappeared off of her arm. “Tikki, it disappeared again,” Marinette sighed.

Tikki shrugged. “Maybe he’s not ready?” The Kwami had seen this before. The Brands were a form of magic that humans had that linked two souls together, signaling that they’d found their soul’s mate. A person would have to write another’s True Name on themselves somewhere, and it would disappear at sunrise if it wasn’t meant to be. Sometimes, though, it depended on if the other person was even capable of loving back. A Brand that had disappeared earlier might “take” later, when the soulmate was ready.

Tikki wasn’t sure if it was a good thing for Marinette that Adrien wasn’t capable of loving Marinette back yet. Maybe Adrien had a different name? The kwami wasn’t going to put forth the suggestion that it might not be Adrien at all. Marinette seemed convinced, and Tikki knew better than to doubt her bearers.

Marinette’s parents proudly wore the names they had on their arms, a very simple “Tom” on Sabine’s wrist and a beautifully formed script of “Sabine” scrawled across Tom’s massive forearm. Of course it simply encouraged Marinette into writing several names on her own arms throughout the years, even if most people found writing names on themselves taboo.

Recently, though, it’d just been Adrien’s.

None of the attempts ever stuck.

“It’ll happen one day!” Tikki said cheerfully. “I believe that you’ll find your soulmate one day. But right now you should get ready for school!”

∴

It’d been a few months after Juleka showed him that the picture curse was broken that he met the girl that’d been able to break it.

“I’m Ma-ma-ma-Marinette!”

He’d laughed a little and it hurt her feelings. Good job, Luka, that was a great first impression. Luckily he was able to apologize and smooth it over.

It tickled him, just a little bit, that he’d met another “M” in his life that he actually ended up liking. He ended up liking her a whole lot, which… ultimately kinda sucked because she’d been interested in someone else. Well, that was alright. He’d been used to the idea that he’d never find “the one” since he technically already had and lost them so many years ago.

But this one? This “M”? She was pretty cool and he found himself more interested than he’d ever been in anyone before.

There’d been one other “M” in his life a couple of years ago before his mom decided to move them all back to France, and Paris in particular. Her name had been Meryl and she was a pretty awesome girl, but she’d been several years older and already in University. She’d still given Luka some attention though, apparently finding it cute that she had a boy doting on her like he did. She was nice and she said he’d look good with some blue in his hair, and it’d been the last thing she said to him before she found herself her own soulmate. It hadn’t been Luka, of course.

He’d gotten into a fight with Granpa over his hair after Luka had dyed it. Juleka joined him by dying her hair purple. Anarka had finally had enough of her and her kids being put down and said she was going to go back “home”. It’d been a hard conversation with Granpa, but after Granma had passed Anarka and her kids had little reason to stick around in their Scottish family house. Anarka’s little wildlings were less little, and Juleka and Luka were both in their tweens to teens, largely old enough to handle themselves now.

Anarka had found some nearly-derelict fishing barge and spent a few weeks with her kids fixing up the ship, making it their new house, and they left Scotland as soon as they could. She sailed the newly christened Liberty back into Parisian waters, claiming the Seine as her new home. She gave a little wink to Luka, a nod to the new “S” in Anarka’s life that her Brand now represented.

It’d been good to see his mom coming back into her old self, the wild, chaotic, free spirit that she’d always been. He was no longer embarrassed of her like he’d been so many years ago. And he had to be honest to himself, the boat wasn’t the first choice he’d make in having a place to come home to, but something about Paris just felt right.

Juleka had been feeling better too. The younger Couffaines had been under their Granpa’s oppressive shadow for too long. And now they were slowly discovering more of themselves over time.

Rose was one of the first friends Juleka had made after coming back to Paris a few years ago, and they were “best friends” since. Today, Juleka showed him a neatly written “Rose” in a flourishing script on the back of her right hand. Juleka apparently hadn’t minded getting the Brand at all. “Marinette did this too,” Juleka smiled. “She’s been drawing names for people who ask. It’s so cool,” Juleka mumbled.

“She’s amazing,” Luka said out loud. Jules gave him a look and even he couldn’t figure out what it meant. “What?”

“She’s got eyes on Adrien, you know.”

“I’ve heard your schemes, I know.”

“I’m on team Adrienette.”

“Alright.”

“She deserves to be happy.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’d be weird if you two dated, anyway.”

“But we’re not dating. She doesn’t seem to notice me.”

Jules frowned at that and grumbled something that sounded to Luka like “she notices and it’s weird.”

He thought to himself, Not where it matters.

∴

It’d been a year since Adrien lost his mother, and Marinette finally said the words “I love you” to him.

Yes, it was a video recording and yes, Felix had apparently gone through and deleted it before Adrien ever got to see it, but she’d done it! She’d done the thing! She could do it again! It had to be easier the second time, right? The second… time.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it. It’d been nearly a full year of her attempting Adrien’s name on her arm, and nothing changed. She’d stayed up and watched it fade out when the sunlight hit it during a few fitful mornings. She wrote his name so often it stopped looking like a word and more like a familiar pattern. Just shapes and no meaning.

Marinette had tried out a few different names over the year as well, just so she’d be certain… in a slightly unsettling way. She kept it discreet, writing on her ankle or in another place easy to cover up in case it was… taking. She’d written “Nathaniel”, once. It disappeared. She’d written “Chat Noir” and nearly sighed in relief (and maybe deep down in slight surprise) when it disappeared. Not that it was his real name anyway.

She’d secretly tried “Nino” once, even though he and Alya had gotten together. It hadn’t stuck. Nino and Alya hadn’t asked for Marinette to write each other’s names down, and maybe… maybe that was actually healthy? Like they didn’t need any external validation in order to really enjoy time spent with each other.

There might have been a lesson in that.

She tried “Kim” and “Wayhem” and “Theo”, even though the last one kinda creeped her out a bit. She tried “Kagami.” Nothing stuck.

There was still one name she hadn’t tried but… but she’d been absolutely terrified of it. Luka had more or less admitted to the world at large that he loved her after he’d gotten akumatized. There’d been genuine affection that was unfiltered, unbiased, uninfluenced by whatever the magic was that made names stay on people. He didn’t seem to mind that she was so, so into Adrien. Even if she wasn’t his soulmate, he’d love her.

S-So she’d be able to do that for Adrien! Yes, that made sense. Yes, that soulmate stuff was all kid fantasy anyway. Even if it was demonstratively real.

But if Adrien found his soulmate and it wasn’t Marinette… what was she supposed to do? Just step out of the way?

∴

It’d been a decade since Marinette and Luka first met except neither remembered that first time when they were young children, even if they’d been in the same place: the park nearby the bakery.

He’d held onto her as she broke down crying about the heartbreak and how tired she was. Luka told her he’d listen and be there and hadn’t lied about any of it. It was why she chose to sit next to him after letting her infatuation go and stepping out of the way for Kagami, watching Adrien and Kagami have their Sweetheart’s ice cream together like it was always meant to be Adrien and Kagami instead of Adrien and Marinette.

Marinette chose to sit next to Luka instead of going home.

She went to bed that night deciding that the whole names and soulmates and True Love thing was just a big huge distraction from what she really needed to focus on, which was getting through school, defeating Hawkmoth, and getting her name out there as an up and coming Fashion Designer!

It lasted all of 3 days until she finally gave into her curiosity and wrote an L in the crook of her left arm before going to bed. She really had meant to write out the rest of his name, but then her phone buzzed and there’d been an akuma alert. She sighed and rolled into action.

Her Lucky Charm gave her a guitar pick. That was a little too on-the-nose, Tikki? Ladybug zipped over to the Liberty, somehow not surprised that Luka was still up and leaning against the Liberty to overlook the Seine, looking cool and thoughtful. Actually, scratch that. He looked a little haggard and worried, and he’d been expecting to see Ladybug. Well, at least it meant she didn’t have to go in and wake him up.

“… you must return the Miraculous after…” Ladybug trailed off, noticing as Luka reached out to take the bracelet that he hadn’t been wearing any of the normal… accessories he chose to wear most of the time, most notably the leather cuff he usually had on. Something bothered her and she caught his hand before he touched the bracelet. She turned his right hand over and looked at the pen mark on his wrist. “Is that an M or an E?”

Luka pulled back his hand immediately, embarrassed. “An… M,” he said reluctantly.

Then Ladybug remembered it’d been incredibly rude of her to ask. “Oh, I’m so sorry I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It's… been 10 years since I got that, I don’t even remember much about it,” he shrugged.

Ladybug smiled, biting back a sudden urge to scream, and offered Luka the snake Miraculous again. “If you agree… I’d like your help, Luka.”

Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Viperion were able to save the night and have everyone able to go to bed on time. She picked the Miraculous back up from Viperion, who seemed to be confused the akuma victim wasn’t who he’d expected it to be. “Anything wrong, Luka?”

“No… no, I’m glad I was able to help. I’m okay,” he said, clearly still a bit frazzled. Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows at him and he eventually sighed. “I guess I’m worried about a… friend. She’d been going through a lot so I’d been… I’d been waiting to see if she’d either call me or… or God, I don’t know,” he laughed, a little bit in disbelief. “I almost thought she’d been akumatized tonight. I’m so glad it wasn’t her. But it kinda makes me feel like crap for even thinking that.”

“It’s kind to be worried about your friend. W-Which friend by the way?” Ladybug asked. “I could pay her a visit if you’d like?”

“I don’t know if she’d appreciate that, actually,” he sighed. “She can kill me later if she wants, but yeah it’d be great if you’d check up on her. It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Instead of being worried that Luka was worried over her, she asked “Is she your M?” Ladybug got blindsided by her own question, but she only felt the impact and implication after she asked it. “Oh no, no, I’m so sorry I’ve been so rude.”

He blew out a breath. “I wish,” he mumbled. “I don’t know,” he said, his tiredness making him slightly more obvious about being miserable. “I guess I could know for sure by writing out her name.” That was said like he had been convinced it’d disappear…

“I’m pretty good at writing out names. If you want I could write… the rest of her name out on your arm?” Ladybug offered impulsively.

“… Sure,” he agreed. He watched her as she grabbed a nearby marker and wrote out Marinette on his arm. “Wow, that… looks pretty dead on to her signature.”

“Pfft,” Ladybug laughed. “That’d be the worst identity reveal ever. Marinette’s signed a few things for me too, I’ll have you know.”

“You might have a future in crime with your forging skills if you ever decide to stop being a hero,” Luka chuckled.

“I’ll stick to saving Paris, don’t worry,” Ladybug giggled. “You do have to write over it yourself if you want it to stay. I mean… if she is… you know…”

Luka nodded. “I know. Probably a long shot. Thanks,” he said.

“I’ll check up on her. Thank you for caring, Luka,” Ladybug smiled. “And you know, I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” she said quietly, biting her lip while tapping his arm. “I’ll be off. Have a good night, 'Bug out!”

Ladybug landed in her bed and detransformed. Tikki floated back to her little nesting spot while the kwami watched Marinette pull out her phone.

hey luka just got a visit from LB! thanks for thinking of me

Marinette looked down into the crook of her arm, grabbing a marker and filling out the rest of Luka’s name. She’d recognized that M on his arm.

Had it really been 10 years when she first met him? It was kind of funny that she didn’t remember until now. He hadn’t given his name back then but she remembered the disappointment the next day when her new friend didn’t show.

Had it really been a whole year of writing… the wrong name on herself?

It’d been months since Luka told her she’d been the melody in his head. Months.

And she had spent a week in heartbreak over the wrong boy.

It’d just been a few days since she decided she was going to let Adrien go. And she found her soulmate after that? How lucky was she? Marinette looked up at the sleeping Tikki and squinted suspiciously. Maybe she was Lucky™, except that she had apparently met Luka when she was 5.

Marinette stared at her phone, watching the minutes go by. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight.

The sun rose after an agonizingly boring time of rolling back and forth in her bed, too excited to go to sleep but too tired to do anything productive. She kept checking the name on her arm and it’d still been there all throughout the night, but now at first light… she was… scared. She closed her eyes and covered her head with her pillow, half dreading what she’d see if she looked down at her left arm where she wrote his name.

“It’ll be there,” she said to herself, feeling more certain of that than anything. The warmth of sunlight hit her left arm. She lifted the pillow off of her face but kept her eyes closed. Slowly she opened one eye.

His name was still there. “It’s you,” she whispered, feeling the tears fall from her eyes.

She launched herself out of bed, turning into a little hurricane of activity. She threw her jacket on and ran downstairs, kissing her Maman and Papa on the cheek and telling them she’d be out for a while. They’d been too surprised to see her up at the crack of dawn to complain much, just insisting that she take her phone with her and that she wear proper shoes.

She ran down to the subway entrance and guessed the nearest station where Liberty would be moored, taking the subway train there. She emerged from an entrance about 10 minutes later, ignoring the confused looks the other commuters shot her since she’d been a mess of pigtails and pajamas. She ran toward the Liberty, climbed up and leapt over the railing onto the ship when she saw that the gangplank wasn’t extended.

“Marinette!” she heard Luka’s alarmed shout. She knew he’d be up. She knew it! He ran over to her. “What the heck–” He’d been wearing a different hoodie, a long sleeved one that covered up both his arms. She frowned at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

“You’re up early,” she said.

“S-So are you! And you’re-you’re here? What’s wrong?” His voice had dropped from a high pitched panic to his deeper, concerned tone in the span of two words.

She took off her jacket and extended her left arm. She saw him flush but start pulling up his hoodie from the hem, taking it off and tossing it aside. He turned his right palm up to show her the name written across his forearm.

Their names had stayed. He breathed out. “Did Ladyb–” She cut him off, her hands on either side of his face to pull him down, planting a kiss on his lips. They pulled back a second after, looking at one another in surprise.

“It’s you,” she said, resting her forehead against his shoulder. To be honest she’d been embarrassed that she’d just kissed him in the disheveled state she was in, having left to see him as soon as she got out of bed, but she felt giddy and… right.

He pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her to hug her tight. “And… it’s you.”

#marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette endgame #soulmarks #fxl fic #lukanette exchange 2020 #lukanette #endgame lukanette

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my-soul-sings · 4 years

Text

Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Yooha x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (last part coming soon)

Based on this prompt, but modified for an AU where MC and Yooha meet under different circumstances.

The original prompt:

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a werewolf?” the human shouted.

“When we first met, I said I was a dog person.”

“Oh my God.”

***

It had been a full year since you started dating him, that sly, silver-haired man with a cheeky, lopsided grin. It was a little hard to believe, considering your first impression of him.

You had seen many guys like him before: extremely handsome, the kind of man who could have girls swooning just by casting a mere glance their way. He looked like the textbook playboy, someone who would be nothing but trouble.

But as desensitised as you were to the charms of male models like him, even you weren’t immune to his allure. You had met him for the first time in the studio for a couple-themed photoshoot, and the smirk he threw your way when you first entered the dressing room had promptly snatched the breath from your lungs.

“Hey,” he had called, “my name’s Yooha. What’s yours?” He had extended his hand to shake yours, momentarily forgetting that he was stuck in a chair, in the middle of having his hair styled for the shoot. His hand was left dangling awkwardly a couple inches shy of you, before he withdrew it and rested it in his lap.

You had introduced yourself with a polite smile, fighting the urge to stare a little too long at a complete stranger, albeit a gorgeous one. And then he had called your name in that smooth, baritone voice, as if he were practising the feel of the syllables of your name on his tongue. The warm greeting made your cheeks flush a little.

And you mentally kicked yourself for it.

Admittedly, it had been hard to control your heart rate and to focus on the shoot that day, especially with the photographer requesting for many intimate poses that mostly involved hugging him, him hugging you, or having your faces mere inches apart. And it most certainly didn’t help that he had beautiful steel grey eyes, handsome features, a perfectly chiseled body that you could make out from his tight-fitting clothes...

...or a devilish smirk that grew a tiny bit wider when you involuntarily gasped at him suddenly bringing his face close to you in a near kiss. (The photographer had been overjoyed to catch that candid reaction on camera too.)

Aside from that little hiccup of yours, the shoot ended quite uneventfully, and the photographer had been satisfied with the photos taken. You had been eager to hightail it out of there to avoid embarrassing yourself any further, but your hasty exit was interrupted by a certain model calling your name from behind.

“Good work today,” he had grinned, the puppy-like expression melting your insides in an instant. You were grateful for the makeup that was still on your face, or your red cheeks would have caused you grief for the second time that day. “Wanna grab some coffee? I know a good place near here. My treat.”

Alarm bells went off in your head. He was probably the type to just mess around, casually flirt with girls and then ghost them after having had his fun. Not the kind of guy you would want to get involved with.

“So? What do you think?” he prodded when you didn’t answer. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you were struggling to string words into a coherent sentence. It was hard to do that when he was staring so intensely at you.

“I-I don’t know,” you’d finally stammered, “I’m not a coffee person...” Yeah. Getting involved with guys like him was never a good idea. Besides, he had an odd, almost mysterious vibe about him, and you couldn’t quite place your finger on why exactly.

“Hmm. Then what about tea? Oh wait, actually...” he glanced at his watch, “it’s almost time for dinner. How about we grab an early bite?”

You had hesitated in your response again, but then you made the mistake of meeting his eyes. Those beautiful, enchanting eyes...

That was how it all began. One dinner multiplied into ten more meals with him, and before long you had found yourself falling for the man who was nothing like your first impression of him.

He was sweet, thoughtful, gentlemanly, and you had hit it off instantly. You watched the same shows, you were both dog people, you both hated pineapple on pizza, and as it turned out, he seemed to have a much more serious, long-term view on relationships than you initially expected.

And so one thing lead to another. Before long you started dating officially, and today marked your anniversary.

He had planned the perfect date. From the outdoor picnic by the river to the dinner at a restaurant you both liked, to the beautiful necklace he prepared as a gift, you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly make this day go wrong. He had appreciated the gift you’d given him too — a silver earring that you had thought would go well with the colour of his hair and eyes.

Everything was perfect. Absolutely, one hundred percent perfect.

Until it happened.

He had sent you home, and you invited him up to stay a little longer, share a glass of wine and maybe cuddle on the couch while watching a movie. You had both gotten a little tipsy, one thing led to another and quite quickly the movie was forgotten. His lips were on yours, and little by little you felt the weight of his body pinning you down to the soft couch.

"I love you,” he had whispered to you, his warm breath fanning across your burning cheeks, before dipping into capture your lips in his. He kissed you deeply, lovingly, and you could taste the wine on his tongue.

You had gotten lost in his touch, allowing him to tip your chin up to deepen the kiss, run his fingers through your hair while his other hand began to roam underneath your shirt.

And liquid courage—curse it—had you pressing your palms against the broad planes of his back, feeling his muscles tense at the cold touch of your fingertips. You mirrored his actions, gently curling your fingers in his soft hair, while your other hand also began dipping downwards...

And then you felt it.

Something hairy... bushy... soft... Like fur.

Your hand jumped back and you gasped, breaking the kiss and Yooha’s eyes widened in shock as he straightened up almost immediately.

“S-Sorry, did I do something bad?”

He was so sweet, and you were about to reassure him that everything was fine— you had probably imagined something and that he could continue...

Until you saw it:

Eight, white bushy tails sprouting from his backside.

You had sworn you’d only drank three glasses of wine. There was no way you were this drunk. But even after blinking your eyes and rubbing them, the tails didn’t go away.

Strangely enough, the first thought that occurred to you was: those tails were so pretty. And fluffy. Like clouds. And you wanted to touch them.

“Hey. What’s wrong? What are you looking at?”

His voice interrupted your train of thought, and when you met his gaze, you felt your mind begin to go blank. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his. This was the man you had come to love, and today was your anniversary. Did you really want to screw it up by telling him that you thought you had just seen a bunch of tails come out from his butt?

“Yooha, I-”

But the tails were quick to remind you again of their existence, when you felt something furry brush against your thigh.

Instinctively, you let out a shriek. In his face, to boot.

He leaped back with speed you hadn’t witnessed before, while you backed up to the other end of the couch. From a greater distance now you were able to clearly see everything. The eight white tails were there in full view, and when Yooha backed up against the couch and his hand landed on one of his tails, you noticed the way he stiffened, his face contorting in horror.

“Y-Yooha, what’s that?” you asked in a shaky voice, hoping that this was some kind of way overdue Halloween prank that he had come up with all of a sudden.

He didn’t answer, which only unnerved you even more. Usually he would come up with a playful response, and you were really expecting him to burst into laughter for falling for his prank.

Anytime now...

“Yooha?” you called again, and in response he closed his eyes in resignation, releasing a deep, heavy sigh.

“Well... I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” he muttered, standing up and stepping closer to you. He froze in his tracks when he noticed you shrink back, as if afraid of him. But you shouldn’t be afraid. This was Yooha, your boyfriend... who apparently wasn’t... human?

"So... I’m a seonho,” he said bluntly, scratching the back of his head with a perplexed expression on his face. As if that explained anything at all.

You paused, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. Irritated, you snapped, “What the hell is a seonho?”

“A special fox. I was born with an ability to use magic and after 500 years of training I was able to take on the form of a human.”

Your mind whirled with this insane piece of information. If this was a prank, it wasn’t in the least bit funny. You searched his face for any traces of mirth in his eyes, as there usually was even when he did his best to put up a convincing act in front of you.

Unfortunately, there was none. And he seemed dead serious, either about the nonsense he was spouting was real, or taking this prank all the way to the very end.

“You... expect me to believe this?” you asked, gesturing to his figure.

He merely raised a brow, and his tails started waving about like happy dog tails. “Want to touch to see if they’re real?”

You were about to decline, but seeing them again now, you felt yourself grow increasingly mesmerised... and giddy... Your mind began to cloud over with the thought of touching and petting those soft, pretty pretty tails... and before long your hands were outstretched, your body inching closer to him to tangle your fingers in the fluffy white fur.

Soft. That was all you could think as you ran your fingers along the smooth hairs. It was the softest thing you had ever touched. And for some reason you felt happy... sort of like you were drunk and floating. Your head felt light, and you felt any and all your worries start to fizzle away like bubbles.

“Like them?” You heard Yooha’s voice drift into your ears, the lilting tone making you want to giggle.

“Yeah...”

“Okay, but you shouldn’t touch too much. They have a bit of a hypnotic effect on humans, and I want to explain this properly to you.” Dismay filled you when you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you away from him.

The giddy feeling began to fade with the distance he put between the both of you. And then soon you regained your rationality and stared at him, dumbfounded and speechless.

A fox... He was a fox... with eight tails... and he said... five hundred years? How old-

“Woah woah, don’t freak out, relax, I’ll explain everything.”

Don’t freak out? Relax?

How were you supposed to “relax” when you had just found out your boyfriend wasn’t freaking human?

Something in you snapped. You couldn’t believe the absolute nerve of him to look and sound so casual about something like this.

“You’re a fox?” Anger found its way into your voice. “You’re not human? And you didn’t think this was something you should have told me about earlier?” Your words grew into a shout, and you watched as he visibly winced at the volume.

“Well... to be fair... I kind of did tell you. When we first met.”

“What?” There was no way. You would have known if he had told you something as outrageous as this.

He nodded vigorously, indignant. “Remember when we first met? I said I was a dog person.”

You took a while to process this. A dog person... He had shared that when you first had dinner with him, and then you two began to fawn over dog pictures.

When he said he was a dog person, it certainly didn’t cross your mind in the slightest that he was himself a-

“...Oh my god.”

“Hey, just calm down and-”

“No! I will not calm down! You do not get to tell me to calm down! How the hell did you think that counted? Telling me you’re a ‘dog person’ has a completely different meaning from telling me that you’re a fox!” You were going into full meltdown mode.

“Okay! Sorry, I get it!” He had two hands raised in surrender, while his eight tails drooped like withered petals. “I was just scared that you would-”

“Reject you? Get scared and run away?”

“Well- yeah!” He was starting to get pissed too, which only egged you on even more. He was angry? You were the only one with the right to get angry in this situation! How dare he!

“Argh! Then why now? Why tell me now?”

“I didn’t mean to! They just- they just came out! We were doing this and that and then they just kind of slipped out without me realising-”

“You don’t just casually forget that you have tails! Eight of them!”

“What do you want to do then? Break up?”

His words rang in the tense air, and the counter that you had ready on the tip of your tongue promptly died.

Both of you stared at each other in shock. Yooha’s lips were parted, a mix of regret and horror twisting his features.

He dropped his gaze first, biting down on his lip. His bangs covered his eyes from your view, and your pupils darted to his fists that were clenched tightly by his sides.

How laughable. It was your anniversary, and it had been the perfect day too.

You plopped down onto the sofa, suddenly feeling drained. You needed time to process all this. There was just... too much. It was all too overwhelming, and you were starting to feel suffocated by the tension in the air.

Before you could suggest it, he spoke first. “I should go.”

You should have made him stay. Talked this out. There were so many questions you had to ask him: who he was, why he lied to you, where he had come from...

Why he loved you.

But in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. There was only a hollow silence as you heard his heavy footsteps across the floor, before your front door opened and shut behind him, leaving you alone in the emptiness of your apartment.

***

A/N: weeellllllll this was not as funny as i envisioned it to be.

will be back with a part 2 hoho :)

#wannabe challenge #wannabe challenge fanfiction #wannabe challenge fanfic #yooha #yooha fanfiction #yooha fanfic #my writing #well i finally wrote a yooha fic (yay my bias)#but also what the shit this was supposed to be a fun fic #not a full on DRAMA #the words just took off and well #oops

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classysmashy · 4 years

Text

Into Each Life...

#3/??? of Nuclear Winter

ZoNa Holiday 2020 Entry Prompt 3 (Ornaments / Tradition)

@zonamievents

One Piece in Fallout Universe (kinda~) [I do not own One Piece or Fallout]

AN: There was something in particular I wanted to convey about Nami with this one, but after this there will definitely be more Zoro. So, I have ideas of how to explain the devil fruits, fishmen/mermaids, and sky natives into the Fallout universe for this and it’s pretty exciting. I don’t know when I might try to get into moments to explaining them out, but I might do future chapters (after the holiday event is over) to do flashbacks that put key moments into this universe since this is supposed to take place six years after Luffy originally started his journey. If I do these, I might build up a wayyy longer chapter for those moments to try and keep them from taking away from the main story being focused later in the timeline compared to the past. Again, sorry for this being late, I had my ideas for these, but it was a matter of putting everything into the words I wanted. The original Fallout 1 and 2 games had much darker themes than the newer ones and I want to try and incorporate that, but not too heavy outright.<3

Rated: T for Blood, Heavy Violence, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 4,379

*****

Ever since she was younger, Nami understood that bad things must happen for the good times to come rolling in. That was the second lesson she had learned from the death of Bellemere. The first lesson had been that she had to keep living, for being alive meant something, even when you don’t necessarily know just what that something is.

A part of her wanted to rip the world to shreds for the death of Bellemere and believed Arlong deserved the most cruelest, torturing death for the crimes he had committed to her hometown. And for so long Nami lived with that spite building inside of her, brimming over the top at times and causing her to lash out upon herself.

The first time she went wild with her anger, it happened while she had been visiting Nojiko and storing away some of the money she had stolen. Nami had lost it in a fit of rage, putting her fist through a flower vase, the broken ceramic cutting at the skin of her hand, and smashed up the kitchen table with one of the dinning chairs.

It was during those times that Nojiko started making sure Nami was voicing herself to the older sister, since bottling those feelings away inside was destroying Nami each time she felt helpless.

Nami never cried though. She would get angry, break things, lie about being happy, but she would never let the full extent of the misery hiding inside to be released out for anyone to see.

This had went on through the years, her deceiving charms becoming her main weapon to steal from unsuspecting raiders —after she had gotten used to their behavior and could trick them to not shoot at her. Eventually, the most normal occurrence seemed to be stumbling on the newer recruits of the raiders to swindle, stealing their money and valuables to sell.

Those years of experiences is what had paid off when she met Luffy that very first time in Orange Town, the idiot so unaware of what people could do to those who were too naïve. Nami used him like a puppet to gather up Buggy’s recent escapade of cash and stash, but had felt horrible when it seemed the guy was going to be killed, and that was another first time for her. Quickly, her fingers had already reached out to stop the refashioned canon from shooting at Luffy locked up in a cage.

He seemed to make his mind up about Nami in that moment as well as the rest of Buggy’s men who were racing onto her form, ready to slash and make her one with the wasteland.

Yet, that death never came back then.

And that was how Nami met Zoro the first time, her back to him, clutching onto a lit string, and him with all of his swords out to stop the fighters in their tracks.

That one moment in time seemed to set off a chain reaction. Zoro was constantly the one saving Nami from danger during their travels together, always seeming to run his lost feet right to where she was in need of help.

Robin passed on a comment to her about the action when he still seemed to find himself saving her randomly after all of them reunited. “If Zoro has no sense of direction, possibly it means his internal compass is set wrong. And I believe that internal compass is set to find you when you’re in danger, hm? It’s only a small theory, but one that holds merit with the actions he has presented.” The small chuckle Robin had hid after walking away from Nami and leaving the girl with just that, still echoed her mind.

All along through the years of being with the Strawhats, there did seem to be something odd about how often Nami and Zoro seemed to be thrown together when the two had clearly been offsets to one another, ideologies varying drastically and causing constant arguments between the two. The fighting between them had begun to die down some when they all came back together after two years.

Whether it was because of herself or Zoro, she had never picked up on. The swordsman didn’t even seem to end up around her much at first, but when they were together he had seemed so... calm. Zoro had a different air around him, everyone did, and the way Zoro seemed to change had put him at ease about what his true mission was now with being a part of the crew.

Protector. Zoro decided during the time apart that he was and had to be the one who was the full protector of the crew, of Luffy’s dream, and carry the burden of keeping everyone alive. The idiot became ready to throw his life down just to keep the others safe.

Nami had been pissed off by it.

A protector in her mind would never let themselves die so easily, never give up on their own dream like that, wouldn’t throw everything away in a blink of an eye.

But, that was exactly what Bellemere had done for her and Nojiko.

When she realized how much Zoro was becoming like Bellemere in that sense, she avoided him and kept distance between the two. Frightened. She had been frightened imagining the crew going through a death like that, Zoro’s death. And it was the pain she imaged Luffy had felt after their initial break apart when Ace died.

Losing Zoro would be hard, as a close friend and even worse on the dynamics of all the Strawhats. It was her realization of this that had brought on their first fight since everyone got back together.

During one of his nightly workouts while on watch, Nami had stormed Zoro and began questioning him about if he planned to roll over and die.

To say the least, he was stunned at Nami for it, and he lashed back with his own yelling. Damn if it woke anyone up on the ship, the woman was talking mad.

Zoro would yell about how it was impossible for him to die so soon and he wasn’t giving up on his life that easily and Nami would yell back with how he had changed his philosophy, that she wondered if he truly wanted to be the greatest swordsman throughout the wasteland still. The moment she had brought his dream into question, he cuffed her wrists above her head and pushed her body up the wall, leaving her feet dangling off the floor.

Before, she had been frightened about his death, but this was the first time she was actually scared of Zoro’s actions. Her breathe had been caught in her throat and leaving her speechless as Zoro closed in around her, caging Nami upon the wall with a deadly look in his eye. The look that most experienced just moments away from him bringing great pain into the life of his enemies.

“I don’t question you about your dream, why question me about mine? You don’t know a damn thing about me right now through that clouded gaze of yours. Die? I’m not planning to go anywhere, so get used to it, witch.”

If anyone were to ask her about it, Nami would deny the fact that there had been a small heat that swallowed her insides when Zoro hung her out to dry then.

He seemed to gather some wits about the predicament he had placed both of them into, releasing Nami to stand back on her feet and turning away again to his weights.

Zoro had promptly ignored her for the rest of the night, even as she burnt holes into his back until the wee hours of the morning.

*****

Winter was always harsh back home, even before Bellemere had been murdered. The income for the family would dry up as the mikan trees couldn’t bear fruit during the cold season and had to be watched over carefully. That also meant the family dinners would be kept small and that Christmas presents for little Nami and Nojiko would be drastically different compared to the kids of the rest of the villagers living in the town.

Nami was always rougher during winter, making a comment every single day about how Bellemere had to be upset about raising them and them eating up all of her money and time. Bellemere simply ignored it though, until spring would finally break the clouds above and Nami would drop the subject of money from her mind.

She couldn’t be upset about the traditions that Nami held for winter, just as Nojiko became more clingy and stuck to Bellemere’s side when winter rolled around.

There were many traditions that the little family held together with their heartstrings on the line. Like how Nami and Nojiko would bake a tiny cake that would cut into four adequate pieces, how Bellemere would bake up the pretty ham Genzo brought over, how the four of them gathered together in a pray that Genzo asked of them to do around the food before eating.

Four people just enjoying being together for another year, smiling and laughing for the whole day without any issues. Christmas was the one day that fighting wasn’t allowed, the day was to be sweet and jovial with nothing weighing down on the bright mood.

But, the good times had came to an end after Arlong showed up.

Many people throughout Cocoyashi had stopped celebrating any holiday all together, in favor of saving up that bit of extra money to pay for their keep the next time Arlong’s goonies came to collect. Genzo would rest a slice of ham and pour a bottle of booze over Bellemere’s grave. Nojiko would spend time out with the mikan trees and would take the very last one of the year to Bellemere’s grave, returning on Christmas day and talking with her through the night about Nami.

And Nami would stay away from home until only a few days were left of the year. There was a guilt that Nami carried for giving herself up to Arlong that she couldn’t shake off and she never wanted to disrupt a nice day for Bellemere, so she waited for the holiday to pass before making her own visit with a bouquet of flowers.

Each time she wanted to cry out, bawl until the ground became so wet it would sink beneath her and swallow her whole with the grass and mud and dirt, bringing Nami to be one with Bellemere’s body beneath.

But she wouldn’t let those tears fall down, she would recap the bottle on her heart even tighter and chug down bottles of whiskey and vodka until her throat burned too much and passed out. Maybe, it was because of Christmas that Nami had developed her tolerance over time, each year drinking more and more and pushing out how long it would take to reach the tipping point.

Things became different around Christmas after joining up with Luffy and Zoro in Orange Town.

As the crew built up more and more, the holiday came around just before they had reached Sabaody Archipelago the first time, and they had stopped for a few days to celebrate together.

It was a weird time for all of them. The only ones who was close to having a proper Christmas in the past years was Chopper and Franky, Chopper because of him living in the cold climate that was constantly set in Christmassy time and Franky because of how his “family” would booze it up and gamble money off together on the holiday.

Nami knew that Robin hadn’t celebrated the holiday in her life nor had Zoro either, Sanji didn’t count into having celebrated since the Baratie only had special Christmas dinners for customers and not actually anything for themselves. Usopp didn’t get to celebrate as a kid with his mom sick and nobody wanted him around during their Christmas dinner because of his lies, which would leave him all alone. Luffy had actually never told them if he had celebrated before and Brook was so old that he forgotten about the last time he had a Christmas, so it was a restart for him.

The whole thing went well though, super in fact, as Franky liked to put it.

Sanji cooked a feast after him, Zoro, and Luffy had a hunting contest. Franky couldn’t find any lights, but cut a tree down for them to settle around. Nami, Robin, and Chopper would work on cutting up fabric to hang around the place they were hunkered in to make the scene just a bit more festive. Usopp had been the one to tell all the jokes and stories that gave everyone hearty laughs and looks of disbelief as they ate and drank. Brook would be playing Christmas tunes on his violin through the nights, whisking them to sleep with the beautiful melodies.

That was their first time celebrating Christmas all together and after being apart two years, when Christmas rolled back around, they did it again. This time more people were celebrating with them, Jinbe, Law, people that Luffy had dragged into his life deciding that from this time onward, they were his friends whether they liked it or not.

Those traditions built of being together as a family of friends were beautiful and she would look forward to when the time would come and she would be able to get actual gifts together for all of them.

*****

A cool, wetness dragged across the skin of her cheek, the dishrag scratching at the blood splatters covering her face. Another one was wiping away at the blood all over her hands, gently tugging between fingers and nails to remove the evidence of the crimes that just happened.

Zoro’s bracelet was still on her wrist, the gold tainted by brahmin blood that had collected inside of the gold plates that hung from it.

Nami’s eyes were out of focus, a blur of frames moving at turtle speed, unable to look at the two men cleaning her. But she didn’t need to see properly to know the horrifying sight laying out before her on the highway.

Like cattle to the slaughter, they had been leaving Sabaody when hell broke loose, a rainfall of bullets scattered down, two dozen gunners giving their hiding places up. There was screams that came from a few of them about how Nami and the settlers had killed their friends so now it was time for revenge.

Nami had ducked away behind a car, a bullet hitting straight into her left shoulder and as she hit the deck, she realized there was a sliced up body impaled on metal poles along this stretch of highway.

The settler she had sent back first had his body torn apart, limb for limb, with each one stabbed through with the metal poles. His torso had a metal chain shoved through it and tied to the poles with his arms, lifting it up for crows and bloodbugs to get their pickings in. The most disgusting part was the short metal pipe shoved into a right angle down what was left of his throat and his head had been decapitated to screw the settler’s head onto the pipe and making the pipe poke out of his right eye, mouth left open in a scream, and Nami wondered how much of the torture he was alive for.

Just from the sight of him, it was clear that there was no hope left for them.

One by one, the three settlers left succumbed to the bullets, unable to get away in time, and the screams of pain would probably haunt Nami’s nightmares for years to come. The poor brahmin came to run and hide with Nami, but it was brought to the ground when her back right leg was shot off and the brahmin fell with moos and groans of agony.

It was a pitiful sight and made her heart ache as hot tears slid down her jaw. She kicked herself up, bringing out a boot knife to stab into both of the skulls of the brahmin, giving the girl the peace she deserved, the noises silencing and chest growing still. The oozing blood from the brahmin sliding around on her hands when she shut the eyes of the animal.

A swarm of four gunners were suddenly on Nami’s body, guns beating into her flesh, and preventing her from doing anything to get out of their grip. She felt one of the male gunners swipe his hand over the front of Zoro’s jacket that was zipped to the top, his hand close to grabbing a full feel of her breast.

When a slash of a sword cut him in half, body sliding off of itself and spurting blood all over her body, and it was going to be over quickly now, she had decided.

Luffy was running headfirst at the rest of the gunners on the highway, she could hear the screams from them, the impact of the blows suffered by Luffy’s strength, and the flops to the ground in their death.

Before her was Zoro, a wicked glint to his eye, slashing away over and over and over again at the gunners that had surrounded her. Nami watched as his focus shifted to be on the one who had planned to assault her, puke rising and burning her throat as she watched him chop the gunner into pieces.

And into more pieces. Blood pouring out over the concrete, running over her shoes, splashing on her face and body.

Nami remembered that stare, from that night on his watch when she had set him ablaze with anger. Blood was everywhere. Everywhere.

The more the two went at it with their brutal strength, Nami retreated into herself, shaking uncontrollably and losing sense of what was going on around her. She didn’t want to see them like this, it wasn’t the matter of being scared, but seeing what Luffy and Zoro were capable of reminded her of rougher days in her early life.

Every time Zoro went for such a grotesque kill, she had the image in her mind of seeing the smoking gun in Arlong’s hand. The way Bellemere’s body caved in on itself, shoes flying in the air, the black ring of hole left in her forehead and more smoke pouring out. Bellemere’s blood had ended up on her face in that moment, as well as on Nojiko.

Just like now. The blood from each cut and stab Zoro produced was in close proximity to her, painting her. It was too much for her senses to handle and her eyes slid shut, hiding away from the massacre.

Luffy and Zoro would always be a deadly pair together. More so than Sanji could ever hope to achieve by teaming up with the two because Sanji had his limits to how far he would go while Luffy and Zoro didn’t. This was especially true in the case of something involving all of their friends, but the two had also made it clear that they wouldn’t take anything happening to Nami and would act like this.

Right now, Usopp was properly working with Franky with what could be spared to decorated until the new materials got back to the settlement. Robin and Chopper would be preparing gift ideas for the boys who would have no clue about what to get. Sanji would be placing in orders for different ingredients and checking stock for the dinner. Brook would be cleaning and tuning instruments, deciding the order of the classic songs and writing his own. Jinbe would be picking up the slack that anyone needed and making sure people were getting done what needed to be. Law was probably trying to figure out a way to run and how long he might be able to hide out before Luffy found him.

Some time passed ever so slowly. Nami pushed out the noise of gushing blood and gurgles of pleading by placing her mind somewhere else.

A week and half would be Christmas, by this much time having passed, the tradition during this time was to be preparing for the Strawhats Christmas celebration.

“People should stick to their traditions.” Luffy was the one to be dead-set in making Christmas happen every year. It wasn’t like this world really called for the holiday, the world was too destroyed for the majority to have the time to think on the holidays.

Luffy was the one wiping the blood from her hands. A weird sight to see him so calm, but it was soothing to know the captain cared to be careful of the discomfort that radiated from Nami’s body.

Zoro cupped her chin with one hand and the other was cleaning the blood away from her face. She wondered if he realized the effect his skills had on her and not the good effect. Well, it was good to know he could keep her safe, yet there was a fear of what the man held inside.

He probably contained his own anger at times, like Nami did as a kid, and that anger led to who he became today. When Nami went the cunning route to counter what happened in her life, Zoro had built up a steady resistance in him and strength to demolish whatever stepped in his path again.

The two of them, Luffy and Zoro, they were made for this world, created for this wasteland. The two could survive without issue, it wasn’t the same as to how Nami’s main way to protect herself was by tricking the enemies or standing beside people for safety, rarely she could survive by her own hands, though during their past travels she had been better at it than now.

This was the wasteland.

A brutal and bloody mess, normal humans sent into a world of monsters and having to become monsters themselves to survive. The raiders were drove to drugs and insanity. Gunners fighting for the hell of it and for the money. Super mutants had been normal humans, subjected to experiments to make them into the monsters they were. The brahmin and radstag were normal animals in a lost world, now they were their own monsters by being mashed with one of their own breed, two cows and two deers forced into twins. The ghouls were normal people as well, the radiation seeping into their bodies so much that their skin was now papier-mache and slowly rotting their brains. Domesticated robots having codes changed to murder on sight, new robots created as pure killing machines. Synths would be used to kidnap the normal humans and replace them, driving fear into every single person that no one could truly be trusted.

Just as Luffy had created traditions that they would all follow at their home, the wasteland had its own traditions.

If you can’t kill, you get killed.

Lately, Nami had been spending time out and about, but it had been nearly a year since the last time she went out before getting the feral ghoul blood with Zoro. She had grown so used to the setting of being inside walls and being away from reality.

The life being built was worth the payoff, but it was destructive for her wellbeing.

“Nami,” Zoro’s lips were pressing at the skin behind her ear, Luffy had clasped their fingers together and circled her legs. “Where are you?” She turned into Zoro’s warmth and felt her eyes shaking.

The promise to Bellemere was that she wouldn’t cry. Nami broke that when she asked the first time for help against Arlong. A high rule for herself was broken because of the trust she had gained in all of her friends.

“Why are you here?” She bit the tears down, she did trust them, but now wasn’t the time to reveal all of the trouble inside.

“Mm, materials for Franky, lots of money, stories to look into...” She needed to hurry up and move on, get the bag of materials for Franky down from what was left of the settlers torso and go forward, not backwards. She needed to be away from her own head.

“It doesn’t matter,” Luffy said, catching onto Nami’s eyes and holding her gaze, “Did the trade go well?” Distraction, don’t think about this if it’s taking a toll on you, gather yourself.

Zoro tore away her hand from Luffy, lifting it to see the cleaned bracelet jingle against her wrist. “It looks better than I thought it would.” A smile stretched on his lips, pressing them into the skin just beneath her palm with a hum. “Your heartbeat is starting to even out, that’s good. You don’t have to be scared.”

He knew, of course he knew. The swordsman could always read her at nearly any given moment, only missing at certain times, that was part of the dynamic that Usopp would never understand.

If she had half a mind of her normal senses right now, Nami would say that the two had been following along around her or ahead of her for a reason. The fact that Shakky said they went to the bar and the fact that they had been here to save her now.

Everything was everywhere in her mind, lost in a state of confusion she still couldn’t break.

Why had she been thinking so much about the past? Why did she have such bad luck to get the people she was supposed to protector murdered instead? Why, why, why?

Nami was spinning, she wasn’t sure if her body was even actually moving, she could barely make out Zoro saying something about her heartbeat, her pumping blood.

White. The sky was white, all the blue drained away and the sun hidden deep in the clouds. Snow was trickling down in shimmers, slow and unsure of the places that they wanted to stick to.

Nami’s breathing had increased, she had to be hyperventilating, her mind numbly noting the change.

Both Zoro and Luffy’s faces flooded her sight, their mouths were moving, but she didn’t hear a word. Then her eyelids slid closed and she felt the darkness flood her.

#zonaholiday2020 #fanfic #one piece #zona #zonami #zoronami #zoro x nami #ronoroa zoro #op nami #op zoro #op luffy #monkey d. luffy

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theinariakuma · 4 years

Text

A Touch of the Flu

Triggers: Death

Ikevamp

Mozart x MC

Rated: T+

Prompt: Influenza

She hadn’t been feeling well in recent times. It started with a headache, a touch of a sore throat, and minor fatigue. It wasn’t uncommon, she went from a life of travel to be a maid, so there were still some growing pains, she supposed. That along with the stress of everything that happened in her first month and the growing cold.

They’d gotten stuck out in the rain after one of his events.

“Come along, meine liebe.” Mozart’s voice was calm. He knew she did not care for the storms in this era. The lightning strikes terrified his little lamb.

The rain was pouring, heavy and hard, like the night he’d realized he loved her. The night he nearly bit her.

“O-okay.” Her fingers slipped into his grip, his skin warm compared to the cold biting air that came with the needles of icy rain. He’d pulled his coat up over her head, but it truly offered no real protection from the cold.

The duo ran for some shelter from the cold, finding an inn. Violet colored eyes narrowing in frustration at the sight of so many people, wet and cold from the rain. At the first sight of her shivering Mozart spoke, “I have you, meine liebe.” His voice was low as he drew her closer to him, stroking up and down her arms and back in an attempt to warm her up. The spring had turned icy rather quickly, he would not be surprised if they got snow soon.

“Monsieur, you can bring her by the fire until we can get you checked in.” An older woman called, seeing the couple. She stepped from behind the counter, leaving a lanky boy to handle checking in so she could coax the drenched woman towards the fire. With so many people soaked to the bone, it was the best she could do.

“M-merci.” Her voice was soft, and the woman’s features warmed at the girl’s polite nature, patting the younger woman’s shoulder before she hurried back to her son to help to check-in people.

She’d still caught a cold from that night and Mozart spent the rest of his time tending to her, trying to help her feel better.

“Remember to take it easy,” Sebastian spoke as he noticed her movements still sluggish. “I’m only letting you work because you said you were well enough to.” He chided her lightly. The high fever that had plagued her calmed down after several days.

Her sore throat affected her the most in the mornings and usually after a cup of hot tea it went away. The persistent cough and fatigue annoyed her, but it had been a bit of an excuse for her not to go shopping in the town, and an excuse for Mozart to not take any performances for a while.

“I’m fine, Wolf.” She sighed a bit, however, a smile graced her features as he placed a cool hand on her cheek. The frown on his face and his knitted brows showed his worry for her. She knew he was getting more offers, and some of them were insistent.

“Hartnäckige Mädchen.” He scolded, “Stubborn, stubborn girl. You still feel warm.” Her lips curled into a loving smile as he fussed. He was always such a mother hen when it came to her. When they returned from the theater he had fussed over her as well. “You’re still coughing too.”

“My coughs usually linger after a cold. I’m okay.” She placed her hand over his. “Sebastian is making sure I only have a light load for work, and he’s even making sure to bring me tea just in case.”

He sighed and gathered her in his arms, hugging her close. “If you get worse, you need to tell me.” Comte had a doctor visit already. Some medicine was given and she’d actively taken it despite her finding it disgusting.

Something churned in the pit of his stomach and told him something was wrong. “Alright, lamb.” His lips pressed to the crown of her head, trying to ignore that feeling.

---

Breathing was difficult, recently. When she breathed in too deeply, it caused pain in her chest and sometimes her back, and it worried her. She’d contacted the doctor, and she didn’t want to worry anyone more than she should, so she kept it between herself, Sebastian, and Comte during one of the days Mozart was out.

She wasn’t going to hide it, she just didn’t want to worry him more. The doctor said it was sometimes normal. Just keep taking her medicine, she’d be fine. If her fever spiked back up, then she’d need to go to the hospital.

When Mozart returned from his trip to see the lord that had been trying to hire him again, Comte’s friend, he’d been frustrated she’d done all of that without him.

“Liebe, you need to tell me these things.” He stressed the words. “I wouldn’t have gone if I knew.” Sebastian had been firm, sending her to bed and making her some more tea. Fingers ran through her hair.

She was tucked against his chest, half curled into him. Exhaustion set on her features. “I didn’t want to worry you more than you already have been. I hate seeing you so worried, Wolf.” Her fingers were cold to the touch and it only worried him more as he drew the blanket up around her.

“Let me worry about you. That is my job.” His lips pressed to her forehead. “Try to rest. Take a nap and I’ll pack you a bag, I’m taking you to that hospital.” He hated that place with a passion, but he knew she needed to go. A short nap and she’d go.

“I love you, Wolf.” Eyes still so bright and beautiful despite their exhaustion just melted his soul.

“And I love you, little Lamb.” He weakly teased, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Sleep.” He demanded.

And she’d dozed off so easily.

---

He’d been gone an hour. Speaking to Sebastian and Comte, a carriage is set up for him to take her to the hospital.

The moment he was in the room, his heart felt like it stopped. It was too quiet. Her breathing was always light, heavier since she got sick, but now even that didn’t fill the air.

“The Carriage is-- Herr Mozart?” Sebastain saw the pianist staring into the bedroom, hand braced on the frame.

“She’s not making a sound.”

“She’s likely just sleeping well. Do you--.”

It was too soon. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She was so young, so free. This couldn’t be happening. His chest was hammering, it was taking everything to not panic.

“Sebastian.” Eyes were full of pain, “She’s not making any noise. I cannot hear her breathing.” The one thing about his time as a musician was that he noticed the subtle changes in pitches and tones. He knew the difference between a silent room, and one that wasn’t.

Sebastian had been the one to grab the man as his legs gave out and sobs left him. No longer able to hold himself together.

She was gone. His love, his life was gone before he could save her.

---

The light was too bright, the air felt thick.

“Hello little one.” Fingers cupped a cheek. “You’ve been gone for far too long.” Eyes were hollow and fingers brushed hair back from an angelic face. “You want to go back, don’t you?”

“Go back?” The words were empty for a moment, unfocused. Talking hurt, had her illness gotten so bad during that nap. “I’m… not home?”

The affectionate caress to her cheek made her stomach churn, he was not her Wolf. But as he caressed her cheek, the memories came flooding back.

A coughing fit that woke her. It hurt to try and catch air. It felt like when she swallowed water wrong and weighed so heavily on her chest. She tried to call out to him… To her Wolf… but her voice wouldn’t work.

All she could think of was how hurt he would be if something happened to her. That she didn’t want him to hurt.

"Such terrible things a virus can do to the human body."

"You're the one… that brought Napoleon back… and the other…" Her mind was fuzzy, she remembered the gun, the lies, but his name and face escaped her.

"Yes, yes." His grip seized her chin, forcing her unfocused eyes on him. “Napoleon was… an unfortunate outlier in my plan. You, however, are so important.”

Comté, She needed to find him… had to…

"We just need to seal your contract and your transition is complete and I won't make you do anything. You'll be able to go see your lovely little Wolf." He mocked. He sounded like a child with a new game, a new piece to his game.

This man wanted to one up Comté yet again. "You won't tell anyone my name. No one is allowed to know how you were returned to Life. You won't tell anyone how to find me." His voice was light as she tried to pull her face from his grip.

The smooth accent reminded her of Arthur, deeper however, darker. Something about it scared her.

Thirst made her fingers claw at her throat, suddenly and desperately parched.

"In return. I'll give you your freedom to see your beloved Mozart. You just need to do something for me. When you get back, you must tell Comté that I said 'Checkmate'. Do you agree?"

"Yes… please. I'm…"

He didn't let her finish as a bottle was placed to her lips and tilted up. Desperately she began swallowing, trails of crimson flowing over her chin and the fingers holding her head in place. The wet droplets hitting the floor as the sweet flavors with the bitter aftertaste calmed her sudden thirst.

After the relief of the liquid soothing the thirst came the disgust that this man had so easily… She never wanted to see him again.

When the bottle was empty he set it aside, taking his kerchief to clean her face off. "Door is behind you little mouse. Run before we decide to keep you."

It was at that very moment she realized there were more people in the room than she originally thought.

She was uneasy on her feet, her dress was soft and new. Someone had dressed her… or was this a dress she was buried in?

The door opened, the lights outside were more blinding than inside, however she didn't hesitate in running out the door.

---

France was busy and beautiful and overwhelming. Her mind was in a tizzy and her senses were overstimulated by everything going on. She could smell the scent of food and blood, hear chattering of people and animals.

When she crashed into someone, her arms were held firmly. Not in anger, but when she looked up, blonde hair and soft eyes gazed at her.

"Vincent…?"

Tears pricked at her eyes, he was covered in the smell of his favorite oil paints. The same paints she used to go to get with him.

Arms seized her in a hug, holding her so tightly she worried she'd break, but she realized she didn't care. "You're alive." He breathed out.

"How?" Theo's voice cut her off before she could speak.

She went to open her mouth to reply, but a tightness held it. "It is… part of the contract. I am.."

"Theo. Stop." Vincent spoke to his younger brother. "Let's go. We want you to come home."

Theo was ready to argue, but the look from Vincent silenced him. This was not the time. Not the place.

They'd all missed her, Mozart the most. Finding out how and why would come later.

---

Things had changed. More faces than before.

"It has been five years since you were here." Vincent helped her from the carriage. “Mozart is still here. He’s… changed a bit.” He was quicker to anger, and Vincent wanted her to be somewhat ready. Internally he hoped that she’d sooth that anger.

Leading her up the gardens, violets in full bloom, much like the one she planted when she first arrived.

"Monsieur--" When Sebastian turned around, he went silent before striding across the path to the girl. Fingers cupping her face, "You're...but… a contract?" Shock and awe in his features and the barest hit of tears glistened in his eyes. His friend had returned.

A tiny nod was all it took. "Take her up to him. I'm going to get Comté."

The familiar room was where the Van Gogh brothers left her. When she gently opened the door a voice snapped, harsh and sharp. "I told you I did not want any, Sebastian. Stop your incessant--"

"Wolf…"

Silence filled the air, thick with tension. Every second he didn't reply was another wave of terror and pain weighing on her heart.

She knew what her regret was. She'd remembered it on the carriage ride.

She didn't want to leave him. She regretted not loving him more, not being with him more. That there had not been enough time.

"Meine Liebe…?" When he turned around from the piano bench, he saw her… just as beautiful as the day he lost her.

Feet could not carry him fast enough as he crossed the room. "You're alive?" Hands roamed her sides, her arms, before ending at her face, cupping her cheeks, gazing into her eyes as he couldn't stop tears. His hands were trembling and worn, he’d been using them more than just on his piano.

For five years, he felt shame for not being there when she passed. He should have made her go to the hospital sooner. Made her rest more. If he had not taken her along to that event, she would never have gotten sick. For five years, he blamed himself.

Lips pressed to hers, pain and love shown through the kiss. Passionate and warm and he loved her so much.

"I'm never letting you go again, lamb. I…"

"Shhh…" Her fingers reached up, soft and warm against his cheek. "I'm not leaving you again… never, my Wolf." Her fingers traced his face, seeing how tired he looked. “It wasn’t your fault, Wolfgang.” Her voice was tender, and it made him pull her closer.

"You're here." Comté breathed out as he and Sebastian rushed to the music room.

Her body went stiff, "Yes…" Her voice was soft, weak. "He… had something for me to tell you as part of the contract." She hadn't wanted the contract with the man. "He said… 'Checkmate'." Her eyes were looking to the pure blood vampire, not leaving Mozart's arms.

The look of anger that passed Comté's eyes worried her for only a moment before he went to stroke her hair. "Thank you, ma chérie. Please enjoy being home. Everything… this is your home, and anything I can do to help you, I will. But we'll talk about that more another time. Please, enjoy the rest of your day. I am sure you saw the gardens. It is the perfect time of day to take a walk."

She nodded and glanced up to Mozart. The same angry look Comté had was on his face. "Can we…? For a little while at least? I liked the fresh air."

Lips dropped to her forehead, "Of course.” Mozart may have been angry his beloved was disturbed from her rest, but part of him was so happy she’d been returned to him. The reason why would come later. He was not going to ignore the gift that was her revival.

This came because I saw that antibiotics had not been discovered for roughly 30-ish years after the placement of the IkeVamp settings. This was the fic that came from that and my idle and loose research about things that happened around that time.

#ikevamp mozart #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire mozart #ikevamp wolfgang mozart #character death #ikevamp fanfiction

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rory-for-short · 3 years

Text

We are not our Parents| Part Six

Chandeliers and Secrets

Richard Grayson had cleaned up nicely. His hair a tad less wild, his aftershave on his face and neck making him smell like sandlewood, and the beautiful black wool suit had him looking like James Bond. He had added a deep purple tie and pocket square to match with Lucy. When he opened his door to meet her in the hallway, he watched nervously as she took him all in. He was like a daydreams she'd have about Superman as a kid, only better. She forgot how to breath for a moment.

"Alright, take a picture, it'll last longer," He joked at his girlfriend's starry eyed gaze. Just then a voice that didn't belong to either of them chimed in.

"Brilliant idea, master Grayson, I was just readying the old Kodak," Alfred quipped holding up a proper photography grade camera in front of his face. "Remember the old prom pose is a classic."

The two started to pose in the most contrasting way, given their attire. Lucy threw one of her hands into a love sign, hand on her hips, head tilted and winking. Dick had his tongue stuck out at the Camara and was giving Lucy bunnie ears.

"Lovely," Alfred responded dryly to their hijinks. They giggled and headed to the front of the mannor, before being stopped by Alfred.

"Your father wanted me to inform you that the two of you will be sharing his limo," he informed. Dick froze up and turned to Alfred with a shoked and indignant look on his face. He looked like a child being told it was bed time, or that he couldn't have friends over.

"-And before you say anything I'll get the whole tantrum out of the way: no Tim and Conner don't have to, yes its unfair, life tends to be very unfair, put up with it for one night, you will live," Alfred directed before taking his leave. Lucy looked up at her boyfriend's face, he was stoic and tired looking. She knew his dad had, well, control issues from what she was told by him. She grabbed his arm lightly as to avoid making him jump or tense like he always did. She knew he was adopted. She wondered what happened to his boilogical parents, and if that’s why he always startled, but she wouldn't press or ask. He'd tell her when he was ready... until then it was her job to keep him comfortable.

"Well if it's any consolation, I aways wanted to meet Bruce Wayne," she smiled softy. It was the only soft smile from her he had ever seen. And it was for him.

When they reached the stairs and could see into the foyer, they could see Bruce adjusting his own tie in one of the antique mirrors. Connor was trying to fix his pocket square and Tim was fussing over his hair.

"Are you all ready to par-tayyy!?" Dick hyped as they neared the bottom of the stairs case.

"Yeet," Tim's equally hyped response echoed. Conner glared at him, and Grayson knew it was because he had a hard enough time without his brother being loud while he had super hearing. Bruce turned his attention from the mirror and to the couple that had just entered and Dick could feel his stomach in knots.

"Dad this is my girlfriend Lucy Fleck. Lucy, this is my dad," he managed the best he could with the tense interductions. Lucy immediately stuck her hand out at an accute angle, fingers splayed from eachother, limp wristed, and grin wild. It was a gesture they had all seen before. She was waiting for a hand shake, but the way she looked. The way she moved. It was hard to explain, but her interduction body language screamed "Joker making a deal."

"Hiya, Mr. Wayne, its a pleasure to meet'cha," she declared. Dick relized at that moment that just because he was use to her Lucy-izims, didn't mean anyone else was. The purple probably wasn't helping their case. If Bruce noticed, he made no indication that it bothered him. He shook her hand and returned the sentiment. Tim and Connor were headed out the door already, happy with the distraction. They were probably planning on going in a different car then them. Which was smart. Dick knew he was about to hate this car-ride to the benefit.

Lucy was funny. What started with normal introductions and small talk turned into an anti~joke off in the back of the limo, with Bruce doing little to hide how amusing he found their stupid humor.

“Okay, what do you call a cow with no legs?” Lucy prompted.

“Ground beef,” Grayson said rolling his eyes.

“No, actually it doesn’t matter what you call him, he won’t be able to come to you anyway,” she laughed.

“Oh. My. God” Graysons eyes went wide but laughed despite himself. Bruce chimed in.

“Here’s one. What do you get when you cross a chicken and a hog” Bruce started.

“I don’t know, what?” Lucy answered.

“A media frenzy on the ethics of making hybrid animals.”

There was a beat of silence followed by sudden complete laughter from the two twenty somethings. That’s pretty much how the entire ride went. Just the three of them telling their best bad jokes. The laughter did everything to ease the tension an the limo was outside the banquet hall in no time. Dick had gotten out from his side to let Lucy out. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as he opened her door and took her hand in his. The blinding lights of the press, the loud chatter surrounding them; it was like a red carpet event, but sad and depressing because it was outside the sad gothic erection of the Gotham City Hall. She instinctively shielded her eyes as she stood beside her boyfriend and his father, who were able to inhumanly smile with clear eyes despite the visual assault. She hooked arms with Dick and he grabbed the hand she was shielding the lights with gently and walked slightly in front of her to help protect her eyes. She could hear the reporters asking a million questions.

“Mr. Wayne, is it true you are partnering with the Metropolis press and if so, don’t you think it is rather unethical for billionaires to have control of the media?”

“Richard Wayne, is it true that you use to be an acrobat.”

“Mr. Wayne, what are your thoughts on the current emphasis for planetary spending and is that something you are considering?”

“Richard Wayne, is that your new partner, or are we just having fun with a friend tonight?”

Bruce had actually stopped to answer the ones directed at him which, gave Lucy and is son the chance to hurry into the opulent building. They dashed in and took in the architecture. White marble floors that transitioned into mahogany carpeting. The banquet hall was lit with small chandeliers rather than one large one. Lucy felt a little ill at that reminder. There was chatter in the hall and a small wooden podium. As they passed people chattering, Lucy couldn’t help but feel their eyes on her. She glanced around nervously. Sometimes she’d catch eyes with someone and they’d look away.

‘Don’t be paranoid’ she thought to herself, ‘they are sizing you up because of the man on your arm being a billionaires son and well known batchlor. No other reason’. Dick must have noticed her tight grip on his arm. He turned to murmur to her,

“I know I didn’t say it earlier with Bruce and Alfred around, but you look magnificent,” he smiled at her.

“Really?” She whispered with a grin.

“Truly. I don’t know a lot of things, but I know a work of art when I see one,” he smirked. She blushed and pushed his arm with a roll of her eyes. Their beautiful moment was quickly interrupted.

“Richard Wayne, you and your lovely date are seated over here,” the waiter gestured. He let them to an empty table that could comfortably fit about 10 people at it. It was covered with a lush white table cloth and had cards with their names for seating. Dick noticed he had his full name and Lucy had “L.F.” on her card. Say what you will about Bruce, but he’s always been a pro at hiding identities, and they were both grateful for it. As they sat in their seats, Lucy’s expression was strange and contemplative.

“Nickel for your thoughts,” Dick prompted.

“I thought it was penny?”

“It is but as a billionaire my thought taxes are higher.”

She laughed and gave a small shrug before looking into his eyes with a guilty look.

“ Your dad knows who I am, doesn’t he?” It was more of a statement then a question. Dick was caught off guard, for once. He didn’t really think too much about it until then, but if he was in her position, he realized how crushing that would feel. For your partners parents to know the darkest secrets of your past. As her eyes still bore into him, he carefully answered best he could.

“ I mean, I had to warn him before hand, just to make sure we did everything we could to keep you safe. As much as you deserve a spotlight, I know you wanted to lay low,” he carefully explained. She smiled.

“So when he found out... was he mad?” she asked sheepishly. Dick hesitated in his response weighing what to say. It was all a lie. Bruce had told HIM. But he couldn’t really say “Batman, my adoptive father, told me and had me wear a wire to a date to make sure you weren’t in cahoots with your recently escaped convict dad that ruined your life. You know. The night we hooked up”. And he felt vile realizing one day he might have to confront her with this and potentially loose her. He felt more vile fore thinking about how the truth effected him before her. But for now, the goal was to have an easy night where she had fun. Oh boy, he was going to have to get his therapist to sign an NDA.

“He wasn’t mad, just concerned. For us mostly. In the public eye, and he said it’s selfish of me to put you in it after all you went through,” and that much was true. Lucy visibly relaxed. She then leaned in closer and talked a little more hushed.

“Hey, do you know what happened to the original chandelier in here?” She asked pointing to a risen spot in the ceiling where it use to hang from. He knew. He was there, he said nothing and continued looking at her for her explanation.

“My mom and dad tried to drop it on a table that had two prime ministers and the commissioner seated at it. Batman managed to figure it out but not before the chain was undone by D-, er, Joker. According to the police report he held the chain and kept it suspended long enough for everyone below it to scatter. Can you imagine? Holding 350 pounds of diamonds from crushing people?” She explained with her wild eyes. He could though. He had his hands wrapped around her mother's neck when it happened.

“Why are you telling me this?” He asked nervously.

“So you know what you are up against. Everyone in here knows that story. If they ever find out I’m, yah know, me, they will look at you the same way you looked at me just now. Weary, and uncomfortable,” she stated dryly.

“My dad hit Superman with his car one time,” he retorted. This caused Lucy to give him a baffled look. “Oh I’m sorry, I thought we were telling pointless stories about our parents that don’t effect either party in anyway,” he quipped with his signature disarming smile. She rolled her eyes and smiled.

“Babe, I’m serious!” She giggled. Just then the waiter brought another two over to the table. The Kents. Louis and Clark to be exact. Wait, Dick just now got that. The were seated somewhat across from them.

“Hey sport,” Clark greeted his coworker’s son. Louise gave a little wave. “I see you have a friend with you for once, decided that the sad loner thing looked better on your dad?” He joked. Grayson genuinely laughed. He got along well with Superman, because he had a tendency to call out Bruce. A lot. Every time there was a justice league dispute, he secretly sided with Clark. Sometimes because he truly agreed. Sometimes just because he could.

“Lucy, these are my Dad’s friends, Clark and Louis. They work for the daily planet,” he explained.

Lucy noted the classically beautiful woman, and the attractive man. Not anything compared to Dick though. He looked a little dorkier than her Adonis of a boyfriend. Then again, her rose colored glasses made everything about Richard Grayson much better than everyone else.

“Nice to meet you two,” she announced.

That’s how the majority of the banquet went on. Some of his dad's business associates, some of his side business associates, introductions, surface level conversations, and food. Dick noticed that Connor and him were seated elsewhere. He was sure Tim felt fortunate that he didn’t have to sit with Connor’s father. Bruce had yet to be seated. He was up and working the room. Shaking hands. Smiling. It was strange how fake it seemed. Sometimes he couldn’t tell witch was the real Bruce. And given his own struggles to understand which of his alter egos he truly was, he guessed that Bruce didn’t know either.

#fanfic #fanfiction #bat famfanfic #batfam #batman #nightwing #lucy flek #lucy quinzel #lucy x dick #dick grayson #dick grayson x lucy #alfred pennyworth #tim x connor #tim drake #clark kent #superman

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queercode-my-minecraft · 5 years

Text

Infuriating

Words: 2139 Relationship/s: romantic Intruality, brotherly Creativitwins, platonic Moceit, implied pining Roceit Warnings: Remus, mention of porn, swearing, the word Daddy, innuendos and sex jokes, kissing, implied making out, sympathetic sides, caplocks, weed mention Notes: This fic originated from an idea of my amazing friend @gabe-killed-me-with-ace-cream, which then prompted a friend of ours to make a drawing of it (I think, not quite sure, tho) and I thought it was so damn cute I had to write it. So, here we are! Only three weeks late!

It was infuriating.

Remus was incredibly and unequivocally, infuriatingly annoying.

Not annoying in the manner that Roman would whine about after he got hit by a flying ninja star. It wasn’t about Remus’ violent tendencies.

It wasn’t even for his rather innovative ideas and proposals. Those only made Patton squeak in surprise, although he was trying his hardest not to show his surprise too much and hurt Remus’ feelings (it wasn’t his fault that the concept of Thomas becoming a porn star was difficult to shake out of his mind, especially since Remus had said looking straight into Patton’s eyes, without blinking).

Heck! Remus wasn’t even the problem!

At the contrary of what Deceit thought, especially after passing the entire morning cleaning, what was hopefully only blood, from the living room carpet.

Remus was infuriating because he was so oblivious he couldn’t seem take a hint.

It had been a couple of months since Patton had started trying to woo the other, an activity he started doing after a particular situation that had occurred.

It was a normal afternoon, or as normal as an afternoon in the mindscape could be. There was a soft light coming from the windows, illuminating everything with its warm glow.

Patton was sitting on the sofa, he couldn’t exactly remember what he was doing, he just remembered feeling particularly bored. Then, Remus had rose up.

He was dressed surprisingly casually, something both him and his twin despised being seen in. A green t-shirt that revealed his slightly freckled arms (when did Remus start having freckles?) and some booty shorts that had the word Daddy written in cursive.

He looked around, probably searching for something or someone, but, his gaze stopped once he saw Patton.

The smile that etched itself on his face shouldn’t have his cheeks heat up, it was a wild smile, dangerous even. However, Patton couldn’t seem to avert his eyes from the other.

Remus had then sat next to him, quietly. They remained in silence for a couple of seconds, but, it felt like eternity, his heart pounding in his chest, so loud he was afraid Remus could hear it, and a blush that was quickly spreading all over his face.

It took a couple of seconds before Remus finally turned towards him. However, this time his smile had been changed into a softer grin, eyes closed as he recited:

“Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what? My bed has room for two.”

Patton didn’t know what had taken over him in that precise moment, but, he found himself giggling, a hand to cover his smile and cheeks burning even brighter under Remus’ astounded gaze.

The look on the other’s face was a mask, he was pretty sure Remus was flabbergasted, however, he wasn’t quite sure since Remus sinked out as fast as he came. Leaving Patton on the couch, face warm and hands slightly trembling.

For a normal interaction that was pretty weird, but, for Remus it seemed pretty tame. Patton, though, couldn’t understand what had gotten a hold of him.

Then, it hit him.

Oh.

OH SH-

____

Patton exhaled in defeat, his gaze falling on a plate of tea biscuits in front of him.

“I just don’t get it. I’ve tried making him understand that I like him and he just wouldn’t understand! I don’t think I’m doing anything wrong, so, maybe he’s just… avoiding talking about it?” His voice became more of a murmur the closer he got to the end of his speech, trying to ignore the burning sensation of tears in his eyes. He couldn’t cry, especially not in front of Deceit.

However, Deceit only hummed, taking a sip of his tea.

It was a usual answer from him when Patton started talking about feelings during their tea parties. Even if he felt particularly loquacious, at the mention of his feelings (in particular those towards a red clad Prince) he would clam up, and hurry to get away.

Nevertheless, today Patton wasn’t going to talk about Deceit’s rather adorable crush so the other was safe. Today was the day when he had decided he would stop trying to court (as Roman liked saying) Remus.

“I think I… should stop trying. It’s pretty obvious that Re... he isn’t interested and if I continue I would just expose this stupid crush to the others.”

Deceit nodded absentmindedly, before setting down his cup and staring straight into Patton’s eyes, without blinking.

(What was with the Dark Sides and not blinking?)

“The crush isn’t stupid, you’re really stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“N-no, I mean, fuck-“

“Language!”

Deceit sighed slumping against his chair, before recollecting his thoughts and himself:

“I meant that you’re being stupid by stop flirting with Remus-“

Patton interrupted once again, getting on the defensive. “How did you know it’s Remus?!”

“-Because it’s written all over your face. Fuck whatever the other Sides think, the pressure from society or the group shouldn’t stop you, make it obvious you’re interested in him. Use his same language. Without offence, but, he’s particularly dense. You must be clear and /then you’ll see that it’s going to pay off.”

As Deceit talked, getting more and more passionate, Patton quietly observing, a plan already semi forming in his mind.

“So, you’re telling me I need to…?”

“Make sex jokes? Be naked around him? Give him dead flowers? I don’t know and I don’t care how you’re going to flirt with him. I’m just resolving the situation so that Thomas won’t be too much of a mess. Just for Thomas.”

It was Patton’s time to hum, cheekily eyeing Deceit a he sipped his tea.

“Stop staring at me, Morality, the situation is already awkward as it is.”

“Oh sorry, I was just thinking about how good you are at knowing how Creativity has to be flirted with.”

Fair to say the statement was followed by Deceit choking on his beverage and trying to divert the situation to something else. It was pretty funny for Deceit, whose job was to preserve Thomas through lies and deception, to be so bad at lying.

____

The following days were followed by more and more by some awkward tension between Patton and Remus.

Despite what Deceit had told him, Patton did what he could to not let any of the Sides realise he had feeling for Remus. A tougher job than anticipated.

And, also, much more awkward.

It was night, downstairs a Disney movie was still playing, Virgil, Roman and Logan fast asleep on the couch. Something Patton had managed to escape by groggily forcing himself to his room.

As he was walking down the corridor, though, he saw Remus still awake doing… well, whatever the hell he was doing. Patton wasn’t quite sure, besides it was too dark to tell.

In the haze of sleep Patton opened his mouth, without even realising, and said:

“Will you B mine, get it because b is the first letter of butthole?”

He didn’t stay to see his reaction as he had already ducked in his room and crashed on his soft bed.

Every time he managed to catch him alone, even as they crossed path down a corridor, Patton would try his hardest. It was awkward and made him feel quite uncomfortable at times, but, he wasn’t going to give up. ____

Remus had no fucking idea what was happening.

He felt as if he had taken a dip in the lake of confusion, where skulls and bones would pop up, their flesh corredate from the acid and the was a mist around him that took the shape of flying- he was confused. Which only helped in making him feel more stupid than on average.

Patton was acting different.

At first it had been entertaining, but, slowly he had realised that Patton was serious. Serious as someone could with those terrible… phrases.

It was as if Patton didn’t even know the meaning of innuendo!

One particular day, he had been going up the stairs, Deceit having forbidden him to sink in and out after he had prodded him with the question of what exactly would happen if their body got stuck in the floor, and as he passed Patton he swore he heard the other say:

“Those booty shorts do fit your booty well!”

Remus froze, turning towards the others, mouth agape.

But, the other kept walking down the stairs as if nothing had happened. As if he wasn’t acting differently lately.

That had brought him to rush to his shared room, break the door after slamming it open and then turning to his brother and screaming in his face. Screaming had always been the best method to have anyone listen to him, either way.

And, in fact, Roman heard him. His eyes went wide as oranges and he confirmed his sword, pointing it at Remus’ neck.

“What?!”

“I broke Patton.” Was all that Remus said before sitting on his brother’s bed. It was a bit too clean and a bit too soft and a bit too red for his liking.

“What? And get off my bed, your trash will start migrating towards here!”

Remus simply sighed, ignoring as Roman started lightly jabbing his side with his sword and getting more comfortable on the bed.

“I broke sweet, angel Patton and now he’s acting all weird. He won’t stop complimenting my ass, which is a great ass mind you, but, it’s weird coming from him!”

“Yes, great ass. Hm-hm, get off my bed and stop- stop eating that banana peel!”

Remus did not stop eating the banana peel, staring at Roman dead in the eye as he did.

“What are you doing here on my bed that you should not be sat on by you?”

“Told you,” Remus shrugged, finishing the banana peel, “Broke Patton.”

“Oh? So, now you’re whining that your crush is flirting with you as you were with him? Doesn’t seem to be a good reason as to why YOU’RE STILL ON MY FUCKING BED.”

He ignored Roman’s shouting, mulling the rest of what he had said.

“Wait, you’re telling me that hot top daddy Patton has been flirting with me?”

“No shit Sherlogan.” Roman seemed to stop, before opening his mouth again and asking:

“Do you think Sherlogan is a good nickname? The perfect combination between Sherlock and Logan: Sherlogan.”

Finally, Remus got up from the bed, stretching as he heard his brother’s bullshit.

“Let me be honest with you, it sucks.”

“Thanks, lanzador.”

“Did you just call me balls?”

____

Remus was perfectly and contently calm.

He was fine, his hands weren’t shaking, his ears weren’t hot and bright red, and he absolutely wasn’t hating himself for not being able to come up with anything better than wilted flowers.

He had tried making something romantic, but, even with Roman’s help the red roses hadn’t stopped from wilting. At least, though, the spiked didn’t dig in your skin and the red of the flowers was as rich as blood.

Taking a final inhale, he looked in front on himself and knocked at the door.

The answer was close to immediate, however, when the door opened time felt as if it had stopped. Or slowed.

He saw Patton go through confusion before complete surprise, hazel eyes blown wide behind the glasses and Remus was positive he was about to fuck everything.

“Merry fuck! Here, have some weed!”

Exclaimed Remus, trying not to hurt Patton as he threw him the flowers. /Roman was going to be so disappointed in him.

He was expecting Patton to recoil in horror, shout at him or insult him. However, the reaction was far from that:

“Oh! These are… wonderful!”

Then, Patton had gotten on his tiptoes and had lightly pecked his cheek.

Remus was pretty sure that his heart had flew out of his mouth and into the sky.

“Do they need water or is it okay to press them?” Had then asked Patton, as if nothing had happened. As if Remus wasn’t currently a blushing mess, heart soaring and mind singing.

“I- uh- I- gay- uuuuuuuuuh-“ Was all that managed to come out of Remus’ mouth, together with a strangled sound that made beautiful Patton look at him worriedly.

“Are you oka-?”

Patton hadn’t had the time to finish the sentence as Remus’ mouth was now on his, warm and tasting of cinnamon.

It wasn’t a particularly long kiss, those would come after Patton had invited Remus in and the two would pass the rest of the afternoon on his bed, Remus in Patton’s lap, forgetting about the world.

But, for now, Patton stood in front of Remus, now just a couple inches away, breathing heavily, both of their hearts beating so loud they composed a song of their own.

“I think- would you like to come in?”

Remus grinned down, a knowing glint in his eyes.

“It would be my pleasure.”

#patton sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #intruality #moduke #background! roceit #sanders sides #sam writes #i didn't vibe check or grammar check this lol #lol stands for this will be my doom #i liked the ending and the scene with deceit #the scene with remus and roman is just my sister #she KNOWS she can't come on my bed #it's illegal for her #i'm the only quing in this room

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entity9silvergen · 4 years

Text

He Is Mild And He Is Meek (ATLA Fanfiction)

Summary:

He is mild and he is meek, he is Momo and he is what I seek.

Suki always wanted three things in life. One was to become a professional soccer player. The second was to live in a cute apartment filled with succulents. The third was to get a cat.

Momo probably wasn’t anyone’s first pick as a pet but Suki was determined to get this cat to love her as much as she loved him. If only he’d accept he had a home now.

Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender

Characters: Suki, Momo, Sokka, Aang

Relationships: Suki & Momo, Suki & Sokka, Momo & Aang, Mentioned Aang/ Katara, Past Suki/ Toph

Other Tags: AroWriMo, Oneshot, Modern Setting, Modern AU, Transgender Character, Aromantic Character, Trans Suki, Aromantic Suki, Lesbian Suki, Aro Trans Lesbian Suki, Trans Aang, Bi Sokka, Queer Toph, Cat Momo, Dog Appa, Pet Adoption

Warnings: Brief Mentions of Sex, Minor Swearing

Word Count: 6.7K

Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

Author’s Note: I was working on my third AroWriMo story and was about to take a break when this idea hit me. I know it’s kind of out there but I like trying different stuff so here we are.

This is very out of my comfort zone. It’s a Modern/ Real World AU story with a sapphic aromantic transfem Suki adopting a cat. I am an achillean aroace trans man with a dog. I also don’t play soccer or work in tech and I’m writing about that a lot here. I am writing about so many things I don’t know about so feel free to call me out if things aren’t quite accurate. The main focus is on Suki and Momo becoming friends so hopefully it won’t be an issue.

The title comes from the poem The Lamb by William Blake.

This fits with the prompt for Week 4, non-romantic relationships. Because pets count, guys. Originally I was going to write a fic about Lin figuring out she’s aro and coming out but I like this better.