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southslates · 3 years

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like an angry god

@kanejweek day four: darkness (corrupted ambition) / kanej / canon divergence - soulmates - one-shot - rated T / read on ao3! / 2007 words

Inej Ghafa comes to Ketterdam as part of a traveling circus. She doesn’t mean to enjoy the city, with its sharp architecture and cold edges, with its people who pray to kruge, but she does. There is something haunting in its corridors, something which whispers to her in its alleys. Inej is a gravity-defying girl, she is an acrobat and nothing more, but these late-night Kerch streets set fire to her bones. It is as if Ghezen has come alive to speak to her and tell her she could be more.

It's strange because she thinks she has everything. She also feels like she is missing something—not something that needs to be there, but some defining feature of her. She feels like she is spinning a wheel with a loose axel.

Ironically, she stumbles upon the Crow Club when Malik takes her in, wanting to try his hand at Makker’s Wheel. She indulges her cousin and lets him drag her into the lively business in the darkest hours of the night, knowing that they’re on break tomorrow. The Suli do not forbid fun, and they drink, Inej has drunk, but she does not want to in this strange city.

She ends up drinking anyway. She is caught up in the moment, caught up in the lights above the table, the large, large gambling hall, and almost in Salim, the friend Malik had brought with him to the club. Inej likes him, has always liked him, and the sight of him loosens her inhibitions. They loosen her inhibitions so far that she forgets him.

Inej wanders off across the hall, stopping to see the sheer variety of people who habit it: a white splatter of the upper-middle class of the Kerch, lazing away a Saturday; a collection of young children from Novyi Zem, laughing away in the corner; even a splashing of Fjerdans, staying away from alcohol and looking distrustfully at the numbers in front of them. It’s an experience, she can admit even halfway down her glass, eyes shining.

At some point she wanders over to a setting of Kerch men and women playing a game she doesn’t quite understand; they’re holding chips and laughing, cards dancing in front of their eyes. Inej has always been a quick study with these gambling games, though she detests playing; it’s something else the city has whispered into her mind, perhaps. It is the Ketterdam in her blood, though she’s certain she has never been here before. She has never been here before.

She sits at the table and picks up another glass. She will be fine; Malik and Salim are truly not that far away, she can see them from here. A women smiles at her with shark-teeth, daring her to down the cup in accented Kerch. Something in Inej does it, and then when she’s slid another one, she downs it again. Her eyes are uncharacteristically bright at the table, her head muddy.

It's only a moment later she’s in someone’s lap, between two people. It is the Kerch woman and another man, fitting her in the space between them. The woman’s hair is a rusty gold and the man has black hair and a gold tooth.

Inej may have drank too much, but she isn’t stupid. She blinks and sees that Malik and Salim are gone from her line of sight—then she promptly sits up, a bit more aware of her surroundings. This is not a situation she is new to; she’s almost been taken by slavers as a child. They had ransacked her family’s caravan near the Ravkan shore and would have stolen her away from her family had she not woken up early. She has learned to be suspicious of people, and she let her guard down. It’s this saints-forsaken city, she thinks briefly. It is affecting some part of me.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the man whispers with whiskey breath, and Inej pulls herself into the space between the bodies she is caged in, ready to pull one of her acrobatic feats—twist her body, do the unimaginable. But before she does and the woman’s vodka-laced breath rushes across her face, something hard clangs down on the table in front of her.

Inej is only human, so the sound makes her lurch. The tablecloth moves forward, and something shatters and then leaks onto her on the bench. She groans, because alcohol will not go well with the cottons she’d donned for a night out.

“Peter,” a voice says crisply. “Lotte. You are not welcome here. Did I not make that clear enough last time?”

The bodies next to Inej scramble away from her, and she looks up in her disorientation to see a man who can’t be much older than her, a cane in his hand bisecting the table and separating her from Lotte on her left. On her right, Peter has shifted away from her and is now standing up, raising his hands above him. “We didn’t mean nothin’, I promise—”

“I don’t give second chances,” the man says, and his voice is cold, so cold it almost crawls into Inej’s spine and then leaves her body, but icy enough that it wants to make a place there. His voice is the city’s whispers in her ears, the biddings of greed. She is buzzed, but she still looks at his sharp suit and glaring eyes and thinks: Who are you?

Or perhaps she voiced that thought out loud. No matter; the man ignores her, watching as Peter and Lotte stand up and try to leave the premises. Inej lets the whiskey on the table, cold as it is, leak into her shirt as she watches two large men grab the two vermin by their collars and drag them away to some corner.

“Wow,” she says out loud at the brief spectacle—some patrons have turned to see the two get carted off, but more seem unsurprised. “I was fine.”

“Who said anything about you?” the man bites. “There are no games here. There is no place for cheats.”

Inej is straightforward, and her filters are off as she wrings out her shirt. “You could at least pretend to be chivalrous.”

The man glares at her, his gaze dark and intense and dangerous—but for whatever reason, Inej doesn’t feel like it will cut through her. Maybe that is just the stupidity of being drunk. The longer he stares at her, the more she wants to laugh. “You cannot kill me by looking at me, you know.”

He says nothing, just takes his cane off the table and begins to limp away from her. Inej bites her lip and stares at his receding back—that moment had felt strangely powerful.

“Yer brave,” the girl next to her says after he has disappeared from sight, into a door at the club’s side. “To talk to Kaz Brekker like that.”

“Who?” Inej asks, and the boy next to her, keeping his distance after what had happened to the woman in his previous position, looks almost affronted.

“He is Kaz Brekker, Ja. They say he has played cards with the devil and won,” he says, like he is speaking of a myth, and not the twenty-year-old man with a ridiculous glare Inej had faced just moments ago. “He used to be better, ja, growing up on the streets. But he culled his boss right las’ week, he did. Hung his body from the lighthouse by First Harbor. They say he will commit any sin, without a price. Bloodthirsty.”

Inej leans in close to him, feels something lock into place, the gears of her heart. “Really?” she asks. “He just seems like a man.”

“He is no man, he is a demon. A quick thief, too,” the girl nods to her, and Inej grasps at her pockets. Her coinpurse is missing.

“An immature demon,” she says, stepping up, her head spinning just a bit. “Cheap tricks, for shevrati.”

Inej Ghafa leaves them there and takes the path that the man with the cane had followed; he couldn’t have gotten too far from her, with his disability. Ostensibly, she knows she should not be trying to pick a fight in the middle of the night with a man who just hung another in a public display, but the city is speaking to her; the club is, as though it has a heart. Inej believes in saints, and they are leading her a certain way, giving her the want to get her coinpurse back. It had a sizeable amount of kruge, and she refuses to be made a fool of.

The hallway is dark and she follows its walls to a set of stairs, and then walks up them. At the end there is a door, and to its side, when she moves her hand a certain way, another small alley; a trick alley. She follows that aisle to another door, wooden and locked and in the pitch dark. She shoves her body weight against it.

She doesn’t know what she is planning on doing. Do demons give you back your money if you ask them nicely? What is inserting this drive into her veins?

“What?” a voice roars from inside the room, and then a moment later, as Inej pushes herself against it, it opens. She almost trips onto a cold metal floor, but she doesn’t—she is an acrobat, even sheets to the wind. So she rights herself and turns to the man with the cane—Kaz Brekker.

“You,” he says, distaste coating his mouth. There is no good intent hidden in that word, nor in the hard lines of his face. Whoever this man is, he is not good.

“Me,” Inej agrees, then holds out her hand. “My coinpurse, please.”

“Your . . . coinpurse,” the man says, her face twitching. He is wearing a hat and a suit perfectly tailored to all his edges, a glass man. Inej wonders if she could break him. “Why would I have such a thing?”

“You do,” Inej insists. Of this, she is certain. She’s had it until he was just a foot behind her. “Give it back.”

“You’re very demanding,” he says. Inej wonders if he can feel a pull towards her, like she does for him. His face is surely not giving anything away. “You must be new.”

“I’m visiting,” Inej says, some sort of fear starting to creep into her voice. Perhaps the liquid courage has left her soul in a flush—perhaps the city is no longer with her. She can feel it drifting around her bones, maybe leaving. It is as though it has filled the strange place in her soul with something, not left her empty.

He leans into her—he doesn’t leer, not in a way that is lewd, but in a way that is certainly dangerous. “Well, then, my dear visitor,” he says the word like a curse, “you would do well to leave now, before I break your legs for coming to my office without permission.” His eyes scan her, perfunctorily, and Inej can only dream she sees something below the surface. “You need your legs. Or perhaps you can walk a rope with your hands,” he sneers.

Then he slams the door in Inej’s face. The city escapes her, returns back for its sins, disturbs her edges. I have shown you a story, she can feel it whisper, from the wrong end, wrong beginning.

She slides out of the secret corridor and down into the busy club. The Crow Club, it’s called. The largest building in the Stave. She wonders if the foundation was built on a demon’s work. She wonders why she feels like she should know, why there is a haunting space in her mind.

Inej wonders who Kaz Brekker is. She wonders why her saints guided her towards a demon, what they were trying to tell her.

She wonders how he knows she performs on the rope.

#kanej #kanej week #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #kanej fic #dee writes

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tooruluv · 4 years

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Kei Tsukishima x F!Reader ( part 4 )

❝ they were the sun and moon, destined to be together but only ever totally meeting once every hundred years or so. ❞

description: in a world where you only see color when you're in love, you've grown frustrated of the greyscale. but falling in love with someone you barely know was never something you planned. and, him not returning the feelings definitely wasn’t planned.

genre: soulmate au... except not quite. everyone is born colorblind. you can only see color once you fall in love (and it grows brighter until you see full color as the love grows). however, that doesn't ensure a lasting connection. it simply means that love exists in that moment, until it doesn't.

word count: 1,680

warnings/notes: nothin’ crazy!! cursing, of course. this one was fun to write!! next part will be longer, promise <3

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“ ‘cause i can’t make you love me if you don’t, you can’t make your heart feel something it won’t ” - i can’t make you love me, dave thomas junior

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

For your entire life, you had always wondered what your favorite color would be. You would hear your parents talk about it with their friends, you would hear it between the lucky few who had met their lovers early. But you never had one.

It should be such an easy question to ask someone when you first meet them. It should be the most basic human answer, a description of who they are as a person. You’ve done research, scanned websites and took fake online “what color is your aura?” quizzes, only to become frustrated by the black and white.

You even tried to compare the shades of grey to colors. Your mother would tell you what color something is, and you would try to remember. It never worked.

But now, if someone were to ask “what’s your favorite color?”, you would simply tell them, “yellow.”

“I’ll wait for you after practice.” Tsukki told you the next morning.

He stood directly beside your locker, tall and still as if he never hunched over in his life. He pushed up his glasses and walked away as a way to conclude his statement.

You rolled your eyes. Of all the people on this planet, you’ve fallen in love with him. You looked up as if to ask God, or whoever’s up there, “why?”

Working at Blu for the summer was an easy job. When you weren’t glancing at Tsukishima, you poured coffee and lemonades and sold baked goods. It was good for extra money, and everyone that you worked with was kind and welcomed you with smiles.

Tsukki was sitting at his table, drinking his daily plain black coffee, when your coworker caught you staring. She was a third-year and had been working there since she was your age, so it wasn’t like she hadn’t noticed his attendance.

Wiping her hands on her apron (which are blue, now that you know), she said, “He’s cute. You should ask him for his number.”

You immediately jumped back, pretending to wipe the counter down. “Absolutely not.”

“He comes in here every day.” She said, as if you didn’t already know. “No normal guy comes in to a coffee place in the middle of summer everyday without reason.”

“We have good coffee.”

“Sure. That’s why.”

For the rest of the summer, she made sure to schedule you for the morning shifts and hang back when she sees him come in.

At practice, the girls were all discussing what they were making for the bake sale. It was a fun practice, full of team building exercises and barely any running.

Mai looped her arm through yours as practice ended. She gave you one of her award winning smiles, bouncing on her feet.

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking something.” You said, pushing into her side.

“You’re baking with Kei Tsukishima tonight.” Mai stopped when you almost reached the volleyball practice gym. “Are you excited? Nervous? Do you have everything you need? Chapstick?”

“Fuck you.”

You pushed her away as you headed to the gym to help with the boys practice. She kept making kissy faces towards you. You flipped her off.

Kei Tsukishima was not one to pay attention to little things. He was a big picture man. He focused on how things affected his future, about college applications, about how plays can be executed by the entire team.

Yet, when you walked into the gym, he couldn’t help but focus on a strand of your hair that kept sticking to your mouth.

“Are you coming or what?” Tsukki adjusted the bag on his back. He stood at the doors, leaning on one. You were picking up some extra balls for Kageyama and Hinata.

“Coming, coming.” You waved goodbye to the dynamic duo.

The walk was mainly quiet. Yamaguchi left before you two, claiming that he had a lot of homework to do. You didn’t know about that.

“You don’t have to stay after, you know.” Tsukki said. You looked up. “You don’t have to stay after practice to help those two. You already are helping us enough.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you come to our volleyball practices?” He kept his eyes straight. “You come from your practice to help us with ours, and that just sounds ridiculous to me.”

“It looks good on my college app.” You told him. It was his turn to look at you. “And Ukai has been close to my family for a long time, so it’s hard to say no to him when he asks for a volunteer.”

“That makes sense.” He said. “I couldn’t do it.”

“What? Have two practices, or volunteer for Ukai?”

“Both.”

You chuckled, nudging him with your side. He kept walking, but he had a smile too. He wasn’t so dark and gloomy as people thought.

He had a gorgeous smile.

The rest of the walk was in silence again. It was already dark, and the moonlight made him look ethereal. Tsukki really could be compared with the moon, you decided.

Every once in a while, you two walked too close and accidentally bumped into each other. Or your back of your hand brushed his. It just ended up in little laughs between you both.

And, before you knew it, you were standing in front of your house.

“This is me.”

“I am not wearing this shit.”

“Yes, you are.”

You were trying so hard not to cry laughing, holding up a pink apron that your mom used. You already had a matching one on. He looked at it as if you just offered him a can of dog shit for breakfast.

“You could not pay me to wear that.”

“It’s this or get shit all over you.”

“I’ll take the shit.”

Sighing, you reached to force it on him. He moved back, narrowly avoiding your attack. One more try ended in the same result. You were giggling now, and he was smiling.

“Just…” A struggling pull over his head. “Put…” A push. “It on!” And your arms were around his back.

The position was awkward, but both of you were laughing too much to notice. You had your arms wrapped around his waist, chest to chest as you tied his apron around him. He stood with his arms crossed as he let you put the fucking apron on.

“There. Look at you. So pretty.”

He pushed up his glasses and looked down. “Must be why you’re in love with me.”

“If you keep pulling that card, I’ll be sure you don’t get credit for any of these.”

“Now you’re just being cruel.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Tsukki, there are literal instructions. You follow them.”

“No shit. My question is, what the hell is softened butter?”

“Oh my god.”

Soon enough, the two of you were into a rhythm. You were baking brownies and cupcakes as if you did it together every day. Conversations came natural.

It was nice.

It wasn’t until you noticed the brown specs of cocoa powder on his nose did you realize how close you were standing. You were to his right, mixing whatever was in your bowl at the time, But you could feel his warmth from beside you.

He could feel you, too.

“The brownies are brown, obviously.” You said in the middle of the silence. “The cupcakes are brown with black and orange sprinkles, and white frosting. I thought I should tell you.”

He was silent for a minute. You thought that maybe you were annoying him with reminders that you were in love with him, or maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself. But then, he turned to you.

“You said that my eyes were golden brown.”

“I did.”

He was standing far too close. He was standing incredibly too close. And he was staring into your eyes for far too long. You couldn’t conjure up any reasons to hate him, or get rid of your feelings. Why would you want to do that when he is standing beside you, warm and brilliant and glowing.

Fuck.

“What color are my glasses?”

“Black.”

“And my jacket?”

“Black.”

Now he was standing directly in front of you. You didn’t know exactly when you turned, but you had. He was inches from you. His lips were inches from yours.

“And the apron?”

“Pink.”

He was leaning in. There is absolutely no way that this is happening.

All you had to do was lean in, and you could get it over with. Get it out of your mind and gone forever, along with the stupid colors that remind you with every second that he can’t see them back. All you had to do was press your lips to his…

You could feel his breath on your face. Your heart hammered your chest and everything froze at once.

“You must be Kei Tsukishima!”

You jumped back, bringing your body back to your mixing bowl. Your mom entered the kitchen, pajamas on and a smile plastered on her face. You pretended nothing was happening.

“Yes, ma’am.” He greeted. As if nothing was happening.

As if nothing was happening. Because nothing had happened.

“Mom, I know that it’s late.” You started to explain, but she quickly stopped you.

“Hush now. You spend as much time as you need. Nice to meet you, Tsukishima.” She sent you a wink, heading up the stairs.

You closed your eyes, trying to forget what just happened. But, when you opened them, you were faced with the worst thing that could possibly happen in that moment.

The colors gained a little bit of hue. His pink apron contrasted brighter against his black jacket. The orange sprinkles gained a little bit of tint. The greyscale filter lifted a bit more.

You wanted to bang your head against the wall. Fuck.

tag list: @vhskenma @elianetsantana @mini-eggs-reads @ysasian @hhwanggu @i-stole-your-juice-box @definitelynotbianca @denkithunder @smuttyanimeslut @yourlocalbabybird @theydy-madamonsieur

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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HASO, “Supernal Threat.”

Sorry it took me so long to write this this morning, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway :) I wanted to do a little worldbuilding and work on the development of my universe.

The hub: it sat halfway between Andromeda and the Milky way, a massive station built around a structural ring. Each Ring housed a section of the station, which had been specifically built for the needs of one alien species over another. Each of these sections had attached housing food, docking bays, and contact locations with important tradesmen all held under strict atmospheric conditions. The only place where the sections were connected to join freely was at the center ring, and the council chamber: a large ball suspended at the center of the ring by way of specialized tunnels branching form each section, and leading into a massive meeting chamber.

Construction on the hub had begun almost as soon as the humans had joined the GA some five to six years earlier. While Rundi were the oldest space faring species, their planet was hardly the ideal location for interspecies meetings.

Then again, no planet was exactly perfect, that logic having led to the construction of the station, which was built to house a perfect environment for each and every visiting species.

Just outside the perimeter of the Hub, a massive set of glowing rings rotated slowly in place, on occasion the ring would glow bright white blue, and a ship would suddenly appear inside its outermost ring, only to come curving off into space and down to where it would dock at the hub.

This was another one of the great inventions being constructed around the galaxy: a stationary warp ring, which could be used in place of an on-ship warp drive. The only downside was that ships who used it could only move in preset patterns around known locations while ships with an onboard warp core could explore at their leisure.

However this was hardly the concern of small civilian transports or large shipping freighters, who generally tended to move only between known planetary locations. Either way, the sudden implementation of the warp rings was changing the galaxy rapidly, and now everything seemed closer than ever.

It was almost Ironic that this was all thanks to the Kree/burg collusion and their attempt to get rid of Commander, now admiral vir, by shooting him into an unknown warp tunnel which they had generated using a ring of their own ship probes. Ever since scientists had been reverse engineering the technology until this moment, when warp rings were first being implemented at all the major hubs.

From a window, on the far side of the ring, a young military intelligence analyst was standing nervously before a viewing window staring out at the rotating warp ring and watching quietly as small ships emerged from it’s rings like polen. She held a sheaf of documents in one hand, and all around her important government and military officials were filtering into the tunnel behind her and up to the council chambers.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and her stomach hurt as her intestines twisted themselves into complicated and painful knotts.

She was a simple threat analyst with the newly burgeoning Department of Intergalactic Security (DIS) and she had not expected to be brought in front of the Galactic Assembly today to speak on her work. Yes, she was head of the department’s threat analysis team, but she hardly expected herself to be important enough to be called to do what she was doing.

She almost wondered if her boss had called her into speak to cover her own ass if something were to go wrong and the report wasn’t satisfactory.

She hardly noticed the footsteps behind her or the shadow which had fallen over her face, so engrossed was she in her thoughts and nerves. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when she turned her head and caught sight out of the corner of her eye.

She froze, almost dropping her papers into a heap on the floor, but managing to catch them last minute. A man stood next to her the glowing white blue of the warp ring lighting up the front of his face and sending light dancing down his cheekbones and through his messy blond hair.

She would have known his face anywhere, from the front of UNSC recruitment posters, the inside of history textbooks, magazines, newspapers, movie posters, and… in one case, a deck of playing cards where he had been the Jack.

Behind him a group of officers was huddled in a tight circle, broken only by his absence as it seemed he had left the conversation to gaze out at space as she was doing.

And unfortunately, he noticed her scrutiny.

She tried to look away, but it was hardly discrete and made it look like she had some sort of awkward neck spasm.

She blushed wishing she could hide behind a curtain of her hair, but the military bun she wore was unforgiving.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and caught him looking at her, her blush grew brighter.

“You know the last time I saw one of those, I was being launched halfway across the universe in a crumbling space ship.”

His voice was pleasantly smooth and calm but friendly as if he was just about to break into peels of laughter. When she turned her head to look at him still feeling awkward, the expression he gave her was one of polite amusement.

“S-sorry for staring sir-”

He smiled, “I can hardly blame you. I am nothing if not amazingly interesting.” The way he said it made it pretty clear he was only joking, and she broke out into a small smile of her own.

Her hands tightened around her sheaf of papers her mind brought back to an image she had stashed in her notes. He knew pretty damn well that that was true and not just a joke, “I think we both know you’re not entirely joking…. If you don’t mind me saying, sir.”

He shrugged, “Sometimes I forget that my life tends to be a little more interesting than most people’s.” he held out a hand, “Adam Vir, but I guessed you already knew that.” She took his hand, finding that his grip was strong and firm, but not too strong as to crush her hand.

“Lydia Deckler, sir.” He had turned his head to face her now, and she was a little more than surprised to find that he did, in fact, wear an eyepatch as all the rumors suggested. Some people said it was more of an aesthetic choice, while others said it had something to do with his -- supposed mechanical eye-- which tended to overwhelm the user after prolonged use, and of course there were the cynics who considered his use of an eyepatch the cry of attention from a man with so plungingly low self esteem he would do anything to make himself more interesting.

He didn’t seem like the latter, but she couldn’t be sure.

She wanted to ask but thought it might be rude.

The silence had gone on to long, and as she looked into his face, his one remaining eye, she felt a strange sensation, as if he already knew what she was thinking. His pupil seemed to open up, reflecting back at her the entire universe behind the station boundaries. She almost felt as if she would fall in, teetering on her heels.

There was a sudden thud against the window, and she turned and screamed.

Sheaves of paper dropped from her hands and went spilling out over the floor as the massive black eyes leered at her from the window before a curtain of billowing white ribbon.

The entier room had gone silent.

At the window the strange alien face broke into something approximating a grin.

“Conn!”

It was the Admiral’s voice, and she turned wide eyed at him, heart pounding as he marched up to the window.”

“Conn what the fuck was that!”

The face leered at him from outside, and now that her heart rate was going down, she recognized it as a starborn. She blinked in surprise, she had only ever seen pictures of them. Behind them, the entire room had turned to stare at them, and she blushed hard scrambling on all fours to pick up her papers.

Admiral Vir had gone quiet, and while he didn’t talk, he gesticulated wildly with his hands as the starborn pouted and occasionally made rude gestures at him in response.

Incredible.

She knew starborn communicated telepathically, but as far as she knew Admiral vir was the only person who could communicate back to them. Eventually the starborn made one final rude gesture and floated away from the station and down out of sight.

Admiral vir turned from the window grimacing, and bent to help her with her papers, “I am so sorry about that, he’s a bit of a problem child.” He glanced up at her and, looking sheepish he said, “And all three are probably correct.”

She looked up at him frowning with confusion, “Sorry, what?”

“All three, of their theories about why I wear an eyepatch.”

It took her a moment to register what he was talking about, and when he did her eyes widened, “Can you read minds!”

He frowned, “No, but Conn can.” he held up a hand, “Don’t worry, he didn’t mention anything else to me other than the eyepatch thing, and yes I like wearing it because I think it makes me look cool, I wear it because sometimes the mechanical eye becomes too much, and there is probably a modicum of truth about the self esteem thing, though I like to think i've mostly worked that one out.” he stood and handed her back her papers, “I hope that answers your question.”

She blushed again, and hated herself for it, “Sorry sir.”

“I’m sorry for intruding on your thoughts.”

“Amidral!” The two of them turned at the voice, and she shrunk back as she recognized Admiral Kelly,a and the fleet Commander as they stepped up, “Meeting starts in five minutes, we should be going.”

He inclined his head and turned to her with a nod before disappearing up the tunnel with them.

She found herself suddenly very glad that the starborn hadn’t showed up when she was thinking about the movie poster hanging on her wall.

With that thought now firmly and embarrassingly fixed in her head, she hurried forward across the floor and up the tunnel into the meeting chamber, which was mostly dark, but held large pod-like seats to contain each of the delegations. Some of the seats were covered by a protected, and enclosed glass bubble while the rest of the delegations allowed the bubbles to be open to the air.

The room was alive with the chatter of a hundred or more alien delegates speaking in alien tongues.

She saw Drev, and Vrul and Rundi and Celzex: those of whom were sitting WITH the human delegation mostly clustered around Admiral Vir as he spoke with them.

Thanks to Admiral Vir, threat analytics had shown that the Celzex: despite their planetary destruction capabilities, were of the least threat to the human civilizations due to their fierce loyalty to the friendship he had worked so hard to build with them.

Those same threat analytics showed that their weakest ally within the GA was actually the Bran…. For similar but opposite reasons.

The man had really only become good at alien diplomacy within the last three years, and their first encounter hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.

She stepped across the polished black floor of the large, dark room, and took a nervous seat below the Rundi section , where the other speakers were sitting. If they were nervous, they didn’t show it, most of them sitting straight backed and blank faced, while the alien speakers were hard to suss out when it came to their own facial expressions.

One of the speakers, a short blue Drev wearing pearly white armor, looked almost bored as she spun a spear idly around in one hand.

The Drev saint, she hadn’t expected to see her at the meeting, though she supposed she should have considered she was also the weapons specialist on Admiral Vir’s ship. Her promotion to sainthood had caused a real stur in the galactic community as it sent huge ripples through Drev cultural traditions, which in turn, sparked a change in their foreign policy.

There was also the question of how hierarchy was supposed to work on the Admiral’s ship as he was technically a clan Sentinel but saints were generally positioned above Sentinels in clan hierarchy. Some worried the Drev would use this as a way to take over command of the human run UNSC Omen, though that didn’t seem to have happened.

She was probably here to speak today about how Drev and interspecies relations would reflect the new doctrine.

She had a copy in her sheaf of papers.

As a threat analyst, it was her job to determine what changes in the galaxy were good for humans and which ones were bad. She imagined that this would be good for humanity and the other GA members as a whole as the new doctrine was a little more lax on the Drev themselves.

She sat in her seat nervously as the meeting began with the Rundi chairwoman greeting them all and welcoming them to the meeting. A few words were said about the new meeting hall, and a couple of new faces were introduced to the assembly. Some general business was conducted, and then it was time for the speakers.

There were a few trade and economic reports from the Tesraki, and a very long winded speech from some foreign policy maker on space waste disposal off of ship, which had half of the gallery asleep in the first five minutes, a gallery that picked up as soon as the Drev saint stepped onto the floor, and gave a short but impassioned speech about the changes she expected to make on behalf of drev relations everywhere.

It was then her turn, and she felt her knees shaking slightly as she got to her feet and made it to the front of the room.

“Assembly members please welcome the human Director of threat analysis within the department of intergalactic security of the UNSC.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly, setting her pages down on the small presentation table as she began.

“Ladies, Gentlemen and esteemed others of the Galactic Assembly, I have been asked today to compile and present our gathered intelligence on what my departments agree to be the greatest threats facing the interests of the GA at this time.” She began working on economic threats, social threats, and a couple of mentions of small militia groups and anarchists popping up around GA territory. They were just passing comments as it seemed there was more infighting going on than there was cooperation between the groups.

She discussed a few general topics about policies she thought needed more shoring up, before getting to one of her latest points.

“In the past months we have been compiling and analysing all the information Admiral Vir brought home with him in regards to the alien civilization nicknamed the Omnidroid. As of yet we have only determined that their civilization contains multiple sentient alien life forms capable of space travel, and have formed some sort of economy not dissimilar to our own. With Explorations of the technology described by Admiral vir, we have no reason to believe that they have power output or technological capabilities higher than our own. We still have no idea where their location is, and find it likely that they are at some distance from us. Still we known they have weapons capabilities, and are likely to communicate on levels, as of yet, unknown to us. However without further analysis, our work has been sparse, and based only on conjecture.”

The room shifted a little as she supplied sketched images of the aliens based on the descriptions the Admiral was able to give. Her heart had slowed a little in this time, but began to speed up again as she came to the real point of her presentation.

“But I have really been asked here today to give you all a threat assessment about what my department has labeled as Supernal Threats” there was a shift in the crowd, “These threats are categorized as being of unknown origin or power output. In all cases they are sentient, and in most cases their motivations are completely unknown. We have ranked these threats on a sliding scale of power to hostility.” She motioned to the board, “Our first Supernal threat comes in the form of the starborn hive queens.” She flipped through a few images, “These images were captured by footage taken from Admiral Vir’s space suit over a year and a half ago.”

There was a muttering around the room as the image showed a large white, humanoid figure towering high into the overhead of the camera.

“Based on mathematical analysis of these images, we are willing to base the size of the creature at almost ten stories tall, a size only possible by way of little to no gravitational input. She is seen as having high hostility but relatively low power. This does not by any means mean she is not dangerous In fact she is capable of, somehow, telepathically crushing the life out of species she deems as “silent” or those species who are able to keep secrets. There is only one starborn known not to be hostile, and he has no further information to give. It is advised that she is approached with extreme caution.”

She flipped through a few more pictures of the massive celestial shape before flicking on to another image.

This one had no scale for reference and showed a massive curling shape glowing white blue against the blackness of space, “Our second Supernal Threat is the Leviathan, his and her power levels are relatively unknown though they are capable of creating self contained warp tunnels. For a living creature to generate the kind of power it would take to fold the universe is…. unfathomable . We have no idea what other kind of powers this creature has, but we have judged the power output of this creature to be high while their hostility level is marked as relatively low. According to his own report, Admiral Vir says that the creature saved him from Omnidroid airspace and warped them both back to the Burg homeworld on the tail end of the war. Again the ability to warp itself and another object with it would require vast amounts of energy though, as of now, we have no real idea where it is coming from. Based on the pictures we have seen, it is difficult to determine the dimensions of the creature, though experts estimate the leviathan to be nearly a mile long from nose to tail and wingtip to wingtip, while his mate is nearly one twentieth of that size.”

She took another deep breath and glanced quickly up att the human delegation box where Admiral Vir was sitting, “The last, and most recent threat is shrouded in the greatest unknowns. The UNSC has opened these classified documents to the rest of the GA as a gesture of good will, and concern for what this may mean. This last threat is a creature known only as Deus and has been mentioned slowly come into mention on multiple occasions by multiple sources. Generally his name is the only thing that is mentioned , and mostly only in context with humans. Strangely enough the other Supernal threats have been involved with nearly all mentions of his name mentioned at one point by an infected starborn, and a second time by the Leviathan, who also communicates telepathically . The power levels of Deus is unknown, though it seems he has both telepathic and telekinetic abilities. He has once been known to use some sort of astral projections, and he can…. Inhabit the bodies of humans.”

There was a murmuring around the council chamber.

“This is the one and only image we were able to capture of Deus.”

She flipped on the holo projection and the room grew to sudden dull roar.

In the image, Admiral Vir stood on cold hard metal surrounded by a nimbus of glowering white light. He had both arms held out, and his eyes glowed blue white, all around him stone was being turned into ash.

“This image was taken on the tail end of one of our operations at an unknown alien archeological site where inscriptions were found carved into the metal. Admiral Vir and a few other marines report the ability to read the unknown inscription, while others were unable. The inscription read “And with knowledge they did pass away andl pillars of stone were left by them and light came before them and the host surrounded them until they were brought up and none were left save pillars of stone, Woah be unto those who find this stone and read.” She paused as the room grew silent, “Literary analysis of the stones before they were destroyed determined that their closest linguistic relative….. Were human writing found in northern africa and southern parts of the middle east. A few scholars have noted a couple of lexical similarities to Hebrew, and Greek, both ancient human languages used in the writing and development of religious documents, though that relationship is only of passing interest.”

There was quiet around the room.

“Admiral Vir reports no memory from this incident, though it is remarkable to point out that while Deus was in charge, he was able to survive a full fifteen minutes on the face of a hostile planet with high concentration of CO2 and other deadly chemicals in the atmosphere. The radiation alone should have killed him in under five, and the chemicals should have burned his lungs in under ten. Even so he came out with only minor injuries and a week of anti radiation therapy after Deus left and he spent an additional half a minute exposed on the planet’s surface.”

She looked around at the delegation, “As of now, we know neither the power levels or the hostility of Deus. It seems that, as of now he is relatively neutral, but has been meddling in our galactic affairs. Any reports of his name or sightings of him should be immediately reported to the DIS.”

She stepped back as the crowd began to murmur and overhead the image of Deus stared down at him his borrowed hands outstretched, and glowing with power.”

She glanced upward at the box where Admiral Vir stood, and shivered slightly, remembering the look in his eyes earlier when they had met.

She knew it was just her imagination, but the thought was still strange and all too unnerving.

She had no doubt that Deus was their biggest current threat.

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dakotacrisis · 4 years

Text

Deal’s End (3)

Marinette makes a deal.

(Read on AO3)

---

Getting used to a demonic roommate was not as hard as Marinette thought. He was like a regular roommate but on occasion he would play some juvenile prank to get a laugh. It was easy enough to quell him when he started getting restless. All she had to do was grab him something chocolatey from the bakery and he’d settle down.

Felix had even been good about obeying the rules she set down. He hadn’t shown up in her bed again and while he still bothered her a tad while she was working it was nowhere near as bad. In order to entertain himself he had taken to working his way through her YA novels. He’d come up to her quoting dramatically from some of them when he found a good or cheesy line. One such incident he had popped into the room to deliver one of his line reads while Marinette was changing and she chucked a shoe at him.

During their free time together they would discuss this deal she needed to make. Any loophole she thought she found Felix shot down. Any wishes Felix suggested Marinette was not interested in. It was a tedious process of trying to find a middle ground.

Honestly the worst thing about all of it was that because Felix was around her all the time at school everyone was gossiping about them. Marinette asked Alya what it was everyone was saying and apparently all of her peers thought that they were dating and that if they weren’t they should be.

That tid bit of information almost sent Marinette off the deep end. If everyone thought that her and Felix were a thing then what did Adrien think? She didn’t want her crush thinking she was taken! This was a nightmare!

“Love?” Felix watched Marinette gently hit her head against a library bookshelf. “I think you are being a tad melodramatic about this.”

“The love of my life thinks I’m dating you! I am being the perfect amount of dramatic!” She snapped without pausing in her metronomic self punishment.

“And what is so bad about dating me? According to Alya and the rest of the school I am your type. Why not just accept the inevitable? You’ve fallen in love with me.” He draped himself over her like a dramatic soap opera star.

“Shut up.” She tried to push him off.

“Is that the reason you haven’t made a wish? Cause you know I’ll have to leave after?” he hugged her to him squishing her face into his chest, “You gotta try and move on from me. You gotta be strong, love. A human and a demon just can’t be!”

“Felix!” her shout was muffled by his chest. “Let go of me!”

“There there, cry it out. This is a no shame zone.” He patted her head.

“Get off!” she shoved him away. “I am not in love with you! This is the kinda crap that makes everyone think we are actually a couple. Stop it!”

“Are you always such a stick in the mud?”

“I think I’m gonna add a fourth rule. No invading my personal space!”

“And the answer to my question is a resounding, yes. It’s just a joke. Lighten up.” He wrapped an arm around her and steered her out of the library. “If it means that much to you I’ll let your precious crush know that I am in fact not crawling up on you when we go home. Okay?”

“Why do you have to say it like that?”

“I’m sorry if my people skills leave little to be desired. I can’t help how some of things I say turn out. I served fifty years as sex demon. Twenty five incubus. Twenty five succubus.”

“That is something I really didn’t need to know about you but also explains a lot.”

“That line of work does something to you. There’s only so many times you can quietly await your summoner while being tied up naked to a bed and slathered in exotic butters--”

“Felix.” She cut him off before he could get into further detail. “I cannot stress how much I do not want to know about your past as a sex demon. I got a good enough picture already and I wish I didn’t. Could that be my wish? Could I wish that I never heard about you being covered in butter?”

“Oh please, that was nowhere near the weirdest summons I ever had. There was this one time this lady brought a goat into the bedroom because she--”

“Don’t want to know! Seriously am not interested in whatever it is you were about to say.”

“I don’t blame you. I can never look at goats the same way again.” Felix stared off into the distance as if he was reliving some awful memory.

“Snap out of it.” She peeled his arm off. “We have one more class and then we can go home. Try to keep it together until then.”

“I’ll try but I opened the floodgates and now everything is coming back to me.” he shivered, “I’m not one ot kink shame but I don’t even remember being in Guatemala. How did I end up there? I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be in Argentina that night.”

“Calm down.” Marinette pulled a chocolate bar out of her bag and handed it to him. “Eat this. Pull yourself together.”

Marinette sat down at her desk. Felix hopped on the corner of her desk and ate his chocolate. The rest of the class filtered in. Felix caught sight of Adrien and shot Marinette a wicked smile before hopping off her desk and walking up to him.

Oh dear, this might have been a mistake. She couldn’t hear what was being said but they were both smiling so it couldn’t have been too bad. Then of course she was dealing with a demon. Why would anything he did be anything but bad?

Suddenly the pair of them looked over at Marinette. Oh god, why were they looking at her? They laughed a moment and parted to their seats. Adrien flashed her a smile that sent her heart racing.

On the walk back home she grabbed Felix by the elbow. “What did you say to him?”

“So quick to judge. I told mister model that we are not dating despite what the entire populus of your peers may think.”

“You were laughing. Why were you laughing?”

“I told him a joke. I’m really funny.”

“Felix!”

“Calm down. It wasn’t anything bad. I may have actually helped you in your fruitless endeavor to snare your green eyed boy toy.”

“Fruitless?” Marinette scoffed.

“Yes. Fruitless. Meaning also, useless.”

“That is not for you to judge!”

“Sure it is.” They entered the bakery and grabbed their snacks before heading upstairs. Felix had convinced the students at school and her parents that he had moved into the apartment across from theirs to throw off any suspicion.

“Listen, how long have you had a crush on this guy?”

“A while…” Marinette muttered.

“Give me a number.”

“Two years.”

“Two years?” Felix gawked, “And he is still just a guy you have a crush on? Have you even tried telling him that you like him?”

“I mean I’ve tried but I always end up chickening out or I forget to sign the card or--”

“And this is why I said your endeavors were useless. You sit there waiting for this guy to fall in love with you without putting any actual effort in. It kinda makes me wonder if you even like him at all.”

“Of course I like him! I love him!” She fell back on her chaise.

“Or maybe,” Felix hovered above her, “You’re using him as a pretty place holder to project your dreams of romantic love onto. You want a relationship but you’re so scared of rejection that you’d rather live in your novels and songs about love without ever taking the risk to actually find some for yourself.”

“What do you know! You don’t know anything about me!”

“I wager in the week I’ve been bound by your side I’ve learned more about you then Adrien-eyes-as-green-as-matcha-tea-Agreste has in two years of you pining from the sidelines.”

“Shut up!”

“Oooh, or maybe even further the problem isn’t that you’re scared of rejection at all. The problem is you’ve built up this expectation of what you hope a relationship with him is like. Everything is so perfect and quaint in that fantasy world of yours that if you were to actually date him it would all come crashing down. You’re scared of losing the fantasy because you know you’ve built up an impossible dream in your head and the knowledge that it can and never will be like that hurts more than him saying no ever could.”

“I said shut up!” She threw her backpack at him. “Who are you to come into my life and say you know me? Say that you understand my heart? I have no preconceptions when it comes to Adrien. I know what kind of a person he is and I love who he is. He isn’t perfect but he has my respect for being one of the most kind and understanding people I’ve ever met. His home life is anything but great and I can tell it hurts him a lot of the time but he pushes forward with a smile on his face. He could have grown up bitter and angry at the world but he chose to see beauty where he could. That’s the boy I love. Not whatever bullshit you’re spouting!”

“Then do something about it!” he yelled in her face, “You can’t expect everyone else to do the work for you!”

“I’m not--”

“Wait.”

“No! I will not stand here and--”

“Seriously, shut up!” he covered her mouth. “Thinking.”

“Mmmm!” She pried his hand off, “Felix--”

“I got it!” he threw his arms up to the sky. “I am a genius!”

“Good for you, genius.” Marinette picked up her bag and pulled out her homework. “Now how about you go haunt the neighbors and let me work.”

“Nope!” He pulled her out of her chair and spun her around, “I know what you are going to wish for. I cannot believe I didn’t think of this sooner. You are gonna love me for this.”

“How about you tell me what it is I am supposed to be wishing for and then maybe I won’t jam this pen through your eye.” Marinette held up her glittery pink gel pen. “You have pissed me off enough in the last five minutes. I just might follow through.”

“Geez, fine,” He set her down. “Do your friends know how violent you are?”

“None of my friends have ever threatened to reap my soul.”

“Not to your knowledge.”

“Felix!”

“Okay.” He pulled the picture of Adrien off her wall. “Here we have your dream guy. You love him. You want him. You gotta have him. Summer is on the way and you need some summer loving in the sun--”

“Yes. We know this part. Move on.” Marinette sighed.

“There is a way for you to get him without forcing him to fall in love with you via the usual deal.” Felix went on to explain. “So I am willing to provide my services to this end.”

“Huh?”

“I can be your love doctor! Your hype man! I can be your cupid dispensing love arrows and condoms from on high!”

“One, I’m fifteen. Two, please be simpler in your words.”

“I don’t use my powers to influence Adrien but rather my words. I talk to him, make you look so damn desirable that he cannot help but fall in love with you. The feelings would be natural so you’d know it was real and instead of reaping your soul I collect something of a smaller price. What do you say?”

“Is your grand idea that I should wish for you to be my wingman?” This was his genius idea?

“Yes!”

“No.”

“Why not? You are not asking for Adrien to be in love with you against his will. You are asking for my services to help him along his way.”

“What does a demon know about love?” She asked.

“Nothing. But I do know a little something about attraction and pheromones and how often people confuse that crap with love.”

“This is your sales pitch? Drawing on your sex demon days?”

“There’s a reason all demons have to do it. Makes us smarter and also scars us for life. Well, except for those that choose to stay that way after the appointed time period. Woo, you do not want to get into a birds and the bees talk with them.” That haunted look was back in his eyes.

“Felix, you’re drifting again.”

He snapped back to the present. “Think about it. You want this guy but you’re too damn timid to make any moves on your own. What you need is confirmation that he likes you first. What if I could get you that confirmation? I approach him as a friend, you get mentioned randomly in the conversation. He learns more about you, a chance encounter gets him spending more time with you, a little time and maybe a low cut top and you’ll have him on his knees proposing by the end of the week.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“There is a test out there that claims you can make two strangers fall in love with thirty six questions. It really is that simple.”

“Didn’t you say the deal had to be for something I really wanted?”

“And this is….from a technical standpoint. You want me to be your wingman cause it will help Adrien fall in love with you. Hence you are not asking for love but assistance. A deal like that will take five years off your life at most.”

“Five years? What if I’m supposed to die at twenty two and end up dying at seventeen because of this?”

“What if you’re meant to die at ninety and you end up dying at eighty five?” Felix shrugged, “Any second could be your last. If you die young you die young. If you die old you die old. That’s the thing about being mortal, you never know when it’s going to happen. You could live a full life or you could get hit by a bus tomorrow crossing the street. It’s not like I’m asking for thirty of forty years off your life. I’m asking for five which is a hell of a discount by demon standards.”

“I don’t know.” Marinette curled into herself, “It seems sketchy.”

“You are making a deal with a demon. It’s gonna be plenty sketchy.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, “Marinette, you need to understand that what I am offering you is incredibly generous as far as demon dealings go. In any other circumstance I would have worn you down with ploys and temptations until you were desperate enough to make your deepest wish. I’d collect your soul and be on my way. I could go and twist your words into making it sound like you made a wish and, again, be on my way.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

“Because I am bored all the time. Centuries as a demon can get monotonous and messing with you and arguing with you is the most fun I’ve had in over three hundred years. Finding a middle ground is not in my nature but I liked the challenge. So here we are. I have found the middle ground. You are not going to have a better offer. So what do you say?” He held out his hand to her.

She tucked her hands closer to her sides. “Can I sleep on it?”

He sighed and dropped his hand back to his side. “If you must. But I will need an answer tomorrow. I already received a message from my bosses telling me I’m taking too long on you. If I don’t strike a deal soon then they’re gonna take me out and put someone else in my place and trust me, there are others that are a million times worse than me.”

“I got it.” Marinette nodded, “I promise I’ll have an answer in the morning.”

“Good.” He slumped into her desk chair, “Now can we play a game of Mecha Strike? I promise not to break the controller this time.”

“Sure.” Marinette sat down next to him.

The night went on and Marinette’s decision weighed heavily on her mind. She made a list of pros and cons but it didn’t help much. Was she really willing to give up five years of her life in exchange for letting Felix be her wingman? It didn’t seem like a fair deal.

Then again it’s been a week. All her other ideas were no good and if what Felix said was the truth then she could end up with a much less patient demon. She hadn’t exactly thought about how lucky she must have been to summon the one demon that she could shut up with eclairs. Whoever came after him had to be a thing of nightmares.

Then there was her thoughts about how Adrien fit into all of this. Felix said he wouldn’t use his demonic powers to influence Adrien. Any feelings for her that Adrien developed would be real. All she had to do was trust that Felix knew what he was doing.

She tossed and turned all night and woke up the next day looking and feeling like crap. Felix had been quiet the entire morning and as she was walking to school he disappeared entirely. A shot of fear ran through her as she thought maybe he had been called away and a new demon was about to appear to reap her soul.

Marinette walked into the school and caught sight of a blonde head. For a moment she breathed out in relief thinking it was Felix but it was only Adrien. And Adrien was talking to a cute girl. Marinette couldn’t place where he’d seen her before but she looked familiar. Had to be from another class. The red headed girl seemed awfully comfortable with Adrien and he wasn’t shying away from her either when she touched his arm.

‘You sit there waiting for this guy to fall in love with you without putting any actual effort in.’ Felix’s words from last night filtered through her mind. ‘It kinda makes me wonder if you even like him at all.’

The girl walked away and Marinette stayed rooted in her spot across the courtyard watching as Adrien watched the red head leave. Was this really her fault?

“NEAR! FAR! Wherever you are!” Felix came up behind her singing loudly for all to hear. “I believe that the heart does go ooooooooooooooooon!”

“Shut it!” she clamped a hand over his mouth. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little relieved to see he was still around. “Why are you singing.”

He licked her hand. “Ew!” And the relief was gone. She wiped her hand off on his shirt.

“What? I couldn’t talk with you covering my mouth. Anyways, I was watching you from the steps and decided your obvious pining could do with some musical accompaniment. Did you not like it? I have others.”

“No. You plague my life enough with your presence I don’t need you to start adding incidental music.” Marinette watched as Adrien walked towards the classroom. “I thought about what you said last night.”

“You got an answer for me?” Felix asked, the playfulness was gone replaced with a seriousness she wasn’t used to from him.

“I’ll do it. It’s the best I’m gonna get after all, right?”

“Right you are.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his bag. It was the bloody design Marinette had accidentally summoned Felix with. He turned it over to the blank side. The drops of blood seeped through the page and spread out to form words. “Here is our contract. It states that in exchange for my services to help Adrien fall in love with you, or at the very least make him your boyfriend, you are willing to give up five years of your life.”

Marinette took the contract and read over the bloody words carefully. “What’s this?” she pointed near the bottom, “A money back guarantee?”

“Our deals are supposed to better your living life. If for some reason you are not satisfied with your wish during your life then it is rescinded and the contract is void.” Felix said. “But people are usually quite content with their lot while they’re living so we don’t do a lot of refunds.”

“That’s a little reassuring.” Marinette pulled a pen out of her backpack. “Sign on the dotted line?”

She signed her name. The pink ink glowed for a moment before turning black on the paper. Felix tucked the contract back in his bag and held out his hand. “Looks like we have a deal.”

Marinette took a deep breath and grasped his outstretched hand. “Yes we do.”

---

(1) (2) (4)

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(tagged)

@sannsibarr @miss-mysterys-blog @maribug-adrienoir @mermaidreject

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix #felinette #demon au #writing

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moonlight-breeze-44 · 4 years

Text

For The Love of Family

Read on AO3

Alec officially comes out to his family.

Simon and Clary argued back and forth, a fact that their respective partners found endearing, over what movie would be most 'culturally important' for the Shadowhunters to watch. Alec didn't care, really; he just wanted them to pick something already.

It was easy for Alec to tune out their little squabble and maybe that was why, curled into Magnus's side on their sofa, his thoughts began to turn to himself and who he was rather than the upcoming movie night with his sister, his parabatai, and their significant others.

He began to look around the room, a heavy fondness growing in his chest. Magnus on his right side on the sofa, his arm casually thrown around his husband, a title that Alec was proud to finally call his own. Jace on his other side, shoulder-to-shoulder with his parabatai, limbs sprawled out on Magnus's couch like a starfish, leaving a small space under his arm for Clary to crawl into when she was finished debating the movie with Simon. Izzy at his feet, his hand in her hair, playing with it, as she practically purred in delight. And of course, the two idiots at the front of the room who were now holding their respective movies and clearly about to make a dash for the DVD player. Simon, with his vamp speed, would be the obvious winner, but Alec wasn't sure Clary wouldn't try something underhanded to get her movie in first.

These people, ¾ of whom he hadn't even known a few years ago, were his family, his everything. He loved them, and they loved him, too. For the first time in his life, Alec opened his mouth and said exactly what was on his mind.

"I'm gay."

Simon and Clary paused mid-sentence, turning to him with similar looks of confusion on their faces. Jace and Izzy mirrored their expressions. Magnus arched an eyebrow at his husband.

"Yes, darling, I think we're all aware of that," he said with an amused smile, waving his hand with the Lightwood family ring on it for emphasis.

Alec felt suddenly very stupid for having spoken up. Of course they already knew that. There was no need to confirm it. A blush crept its way up his cheeks. A firm hand on his shoulder caused him to look up from his self-imposed embarrassment.

It was Magnus, his expression soft and questioning. His eyes spoke volumes to Alec, communicating everything he wouldn't say in front of the others: Clearly this is important to you. I didn't mean to make light of it. I'm sorry.

Alec smiled reassuringly at his husband to let him know it was okay, took a deep breath, and continued hesitantly.

"I know," he said, "but I just…" He trailed off, not sure how to put his thoughts into words. Simon, Clary, and Jace waited patiently for him to find his voice; Izzy gave him an encouraging look, and Magnus squeezed his hand supportively.

"It's just...that's the first time I've ever said it out loud."

He watched as, one by one, the expressions of everyone in the room changed to a sympathetic understanding. Clary smiled softly at him and said, "Congratulations." A few years ago, he would have taken her words as sarcastic, and shot out something scathing in return. Now, he knew how she meant them, and he gave her a grateful smile.

"Dude, hell yeah!" Simon stepped forward and held his hand up in front of Alec, clearly waiting for something.

Alec raised his eyebrows. "Is it a mundane thing to do some weird handshake after coming out? Because if that's the case, you can forget about it."

Simon turned to Izzy, distraught. "Shadowhunters don't know what a high-five is?!"

"No?"

Simon groaned in protest. "That's like, a crime against humanity!" He put his hand back down again and strode closer. "Come on, I'll show you."

Alec grumbled a little but watched the other boy slowly put his palm up again, lifting Alec's with him, until their wrists were lined up with each other. "Now you slap my hand," Simon instructed, reaching over to slap Jace's palm, which happened to be open, to demonstrate.

"Hey!" Jace cried out indignantly. Clary stifled laughter from her place at the front of the room.

Alec rolled his eyes, but indulged the vampire and connected their palms with stinging force, smirking when Simon winced.

"What was the point of that?" he questioned.

"The point?" Simon sputtered, incredulous. "It's a high-five. It's celebratory!"

Alec opened his mouth to reply, but Izzy hushed him with a look, smiling fondly at her boyfriend, who gave her a damn near illuminating one back.

When Simon returned to the DVD player to continue his argument with Clary, Izzy reached up and patted Alec's knee, smiling softly at him. "Good for you, big brother," she said. She rocked forward on her knees to press a kiss to Alec's cheek. Alec carded his fingers through her hair, smiling appreciatively down at her. If there was anyone he would always crave the approval of, it was his little sister.

Jace, on his left side on the couch, wrapped his brother in an awkward side-hug. They didn't need words; Jace's happiness for Alec filtered clearly through their parabatai bond.

Magnus didn't say anything, instead opting to squeeze Alec's hand. Alec's attention slowly returned to Simon and Clary, who were now going over the finer points of both Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings, movies that no else in the room, perhaps with the exception of Magnus, had ever seen before.

Later, when they were all settled on or near the sofa watching a movie that had been proposed as a third option by Izzy and Jace, Magnus leaned over and whispered in Alec's ear.

"I'm so proud of you, Alexander."

Alec turned to face his husband, who tilted Alec's chin up to press a soft kiss to his lips. The seasoned Shadowhunter sighed and felt whatever residual tension he might have been feeling leave his mind and body.

This was his family, and as long as they loved and accepted him, that was all that mattered.

62 notes · View notes

scaredandbored · 4 years

Text

.ok i caved and wrote spones. academy au spones. with a really, horribly out of character spock. was this purely self-indulgent? yes. i’m not even 100% sure what im doing with this story, only that its spones, they share a dorm, and its going to be a gross, borderline self-insert fic lmaoooo. playing fast and loose with the academy’s curriculum because i’m a lazy piece of shit who won’t research the actual structure. also, idk if it even counts as slash, because it contains what i consider flirting, which is ACTUALLY just bickering and academic/scientific discussion combined with gentle physical contact. let me have this.

additional note : i snuck in some pining at the end! so it’s definitely romantic! ha! (it’s not worth it dont bother)

additional additional note : i fucked up a perfectly good spones fic by trying to add jim but it turned into McSpirk

Collectors poke and scalpels ring

(title from billy corgan’s poem “a wax seal”)

warnings : don’t read this spock is so badly written in it.

blatant abuse of the comma, oxford and otherwise

someone gets burnt but it’s not severe and it’s off of tea

cursing. a lot of it.

words : c.6’000 (i’ll count properly tomorrow, it’s hard to get a word count on mobile)

If Leonard was being completely honest with himself (which he tried to be, dammit), his studying had stopped being productive at some stage between midnight and one a.m, but he’d be damned if he was going to grant his smug-enough-already roommate an “I told you so” by going to bed. Not that Spock would use such colloquial, illogical language. Resisting the urge to groan, Leonard let his head fall to his desk, confident the pile of pages he had accumulated while studying for his assessment in Standard Procedures in Classifying Non-Humanoid Life-Forms would muffle the thud enough to prevent upsetting his roommate’s meditation in the bedroom next to his. Walls were thin at the academy, that was the whole reason he’d had to turn down Jim when he’d requested Leonard to bunk with him for their second year in the academy. Bones loved the kid, he really did, but if he wasn’t blasting his frankly awful study music through the whole night, he had someone over from wherever he’d been that evening, and Bones had come to learn (quickly, and unwillingly), that Jim was loud in bed.

Making the decision to go make a coffee (not with one of those godawful replicators, but with some decent coffee beans that his younger sister had brought as a present on his birthday, for which he’d had to actually purchase a grinder and coffee press for afterwards, but it was the thought that counts), Bones couldn’t help but miss the all-nighters he and Jim used to pull together in their previous year at the academy, using each other to keep awake and motivated. The kid’s taste in classical music left much to be desired, but he didn’t seem to mind Bones’s preferences, so they’d throw on the med student’s study playlist on Jim’s maybe-technically-banned-but-no-one-is-going-to-snitch-on-us-because-we-all-have-one-Bones-relax speaker and bounce flash cards off of each other, explaining things to one another, and sharing notes. Jim had always been very much an aural-oral learner, unable to retain information unless he had explained it to someone, or had it explained to him, and while Bones definitely did not mind helping his friend out, he’d always been a more individual learner, preferring to take his notes and summarise them, re-writing the most important points until he had them ingrained in his subconscious. Which was all well and good, except it was a pain in the ass of a technique that only became more frustrating when it was employed in a long night of cramming.

Quietly, Bones took his mug as well as the rest of the required paraphernalia from the almost-bare shelf in the equally almost-bare cupboard he and Spock had voted to dedicate to Bones’s “illogical need to entertain guests with a strange variety of baked goods paired with one of two hot beverages” and Spock’s “ostentatious pots and probably poisonous concoctions”, all while chiding himself for reminiscing about study sessions. Of all the stupid shit he could reminisce about at the ripe age of twenty-two, study sessions with a friend he could easily invite over to join him was probably the one of the most stupid. Bones was forced to pause and evaluate his situation as he realised that all his quiet tip-toeing about in an effort to leave Spock’s meditation undisturbed was probably null and fucking void, seeing as he had to manually grind the coffee beans, which would indubitably create enough noise to irritate those over-sensitive ears. Not that the vulcan could feel irritation. Fucking asshole.

Rolling his eyes at his own cankerous mood, he began to prepare his coffee, keeping half an ear on the sudden rustling noises from Spock’s bedroom as the disturbed vulcan did god-knows-what before coming out to lecture Leonard. Or to glare at him. Or condescend him. Maybe criticise him on how late he’d left it to study for this godforsaken exam. Or maybe Leonard was projecting onto his poor roommate, who he’d only known for the better half of a month. (During which, the cranky bastard side of his brain argued, said roommate had made his distaste for human culture and illogic clear, his particular dislike (it was dislike, regardless of whatever “vulcans don’t feel” bullshit he was trying to pull) of Leonard thinly veiled, and his disinclination to speak to Leonard in general blatantly obvious.) Most likely Spock would simply head into their shared living area to procure a cup of his noxious evening teas before returning to his meditation, not stooping so low as to acknowledge the source of the disruption to his nightly routine. Leonard’s mission to caffeinate himself was not under threat. It took more energy than Leonard would ever admit to quell the disappointment that bubbled up at the thought of Spock just ignoring him.

It was stupid-o-clock in the morning, of course the vulcan wasn’t going to engage in a full-blown academic conversation with him, what was he thinking? Bones haphazardly plopped the filter over his mug just as the kettle came to a boil, doggedly ignoring the squeak of Spock’s door and the sound of his bare feet against their tile floor.

“It is not recommended for humans to ingest beverages of such a high caffeine content at this hour.” Spock’s voice breaking the eerie silence of the late hour was enough to make Leonard’s usually still hands jerk, splashing his knuckles with the hot water. He managed to suppress a hiss of pain, determined not to let the vulcan see any weakness.

“It’s not generally recommended amongst humans to get your medical degree at Starfleet Academy, yet here I am, Spock.” Griped Bones, turning to face Spock with his mug in hand, the eye contact he made intended as a challenge. Try and stop me, Pointy.

Spock raised an eyebrow, which alerted Leonard to the vulcan’s significantly slower than normal movements. The damn vulcan was sleepy, he realised. In an infuriatingly adorable way, Spock blinked slowly twice before responding, a significant delay in his usual response times to Leonard’s taunts. “On the contrary, an education in Starfleet Academy is highly coveted amongst humans; its expansive curriculum makes its graduates highly sought after in careers outside of the academy. I see no logic in your statement.”

Bones rolled his eyes, knocking back half his coffee in a matter of seconds, and burning his tongue in the process. “I don’t see the logic in continuing to hold conversations with an individual you find so distastefully illogical, Mr.Spock.” He passed the strange traditional vulcan teapot out to his roommate along with the decidedly terran-style mug Spock seemed to prefer using.

Spock offered three more of his slow, dazed blinks before responding with a tilt of his head that was slightly more pronounced than the one he tended to make during the day. “Distasteful? I do not believe I have ever said as much, McCoy.”

Bones gave a single, barking laugh, shaking his head as he began to move back towards his bedroom. “Careful, Mr.Spock. Keep up the flattery and you might say something you regret.”

“You are studying?” Spock called after him, just as Leonard was closing his door.

Leonard watched Spock as he shuffled around their kitchen, preparing his tea, his normally purposefully brisk steps reduced to a half-asleep stumble. His roommate gave no indication of having spoken to him. “In my usual, time-consuming way. Yes I am, Mr.Spock.”

Spock did not face him, but the delay in his response was still significant, for the vulcan, “You study using this highly inefficient method only when learning independently, correct?”

“What is it you’re getting at? There’s only so many hours in a night, and some of us have work to do.” Growled Leonard, his prolonged view of the back of Spock’s house robes frustrating him. Their arguments were much less entertaining and all the more aggravating when he couldn’t look Spock in the eye. Spock attempted to answer while turning to face Leonard in his sleepy daze, forgetting that he was halfway through pouring the boiling water over the strainer, effectively dousing his front in the scalding liquid. There was a brief pause where Spock blinked down at the front of his robes, while Bones processed what had just happened before jerking into action. “Get that glorified dressing gown off of yourself, Spock!” He whisper-shouted, determined not to wake the entire residential block. Spock just blinked at himself, then at Leonard.

“It is burning.” He deadpanned, prompting Bones to roll his eyes and cross the room in a few quick strides.

“It’s boiling water, Spock, of course it’s burning.” He hissed tapping the lapels of the robes. “You need to get out of this so we can get you under some running, room temperature water, try and stop any blistering.” Spock finally seemed to register what was going on and began to unwrap the ties of the robes, turning away from Leonard as he did so. Leonard noticed his roommate look uneasy at the prospect of being shirtless around him, and decided to leave him to it. “I’ll go run the shower, you dry yourself off a bit and run any part of your arm that got caught in the stream under the tap. I’ll call you when the shower’s the right temperature, ok?”. Leonard waited for Spock’s nod before bolting off to their shared bathroom to start working.

So much for his productive night studying. It was starting to look like he’d be playing nurse for Spock until the on-campus medbay opened at five am. He was just beginning to realise exactly how fucked he was for the exam the following day when the door to their bathroom creaked open slowly. “Nearly there, Spock. I don’t recommend using any of your pungent herbal shit, we don’t want anything getting into any burst blisters or anything.”

“Your alarm is unwarranted, Leonard. There is no lasting damage done to my person.”

“Congratulations on your medical degree, Spock, didn’t realised you’d discovered a fast track. Y’could’ve told me.” Leonard drawled, not taking his eyes off of the shower, his wrist under the stream of water to monitor the temperature.

“You know I have done no such thing.” Spock huffed, his less alert state loosening his restraint enough to allow for such blatant emotionalism.

“Sarcasm, Spock. Somethin’ you’re gonna have to get used to if you plan on launching into the void canned in with a bunch of humans once we graduate.” Leonard was angling for a mild version of their normally acerbic exchanges, but Spock didn’t seem willing to take the bait.

“If you insist I must bathe in tepid water, I will comply, but I trust you understand the state of my health is my concern alone, and you have no power to forbid me from assisting you with your studies.”

“Bold of you to assume I want your assistance.” His final attempt to goad Spock fell just as flat as his others, and he gave a defeated sigh. “Please stay in until your skin’s returned to its normal complexion, alright?”

Spock gave a half nod and stood to the side to let Leonard pass out of the bathroom, which he did a mite faster than was strictly necessary. Sighing as Spock closed the door, Leonard began weighing the benefit of trying to study against the fact he was just worried enough to be distracted from anything too difficult. Leonard scoffed. “Who am I kidding, everything in this module is difficult enough to make me want to rip my fucking eyes out.” He continued grumbling incoherently as he made his way back to his room, throwing a dirty look at the mess of teapots, mugs, and cafetieres as he walked past it. Spock would have a hissy fit. Or, the closest thing the teachings of Surak would allow to a hissy fit. “Goddamn, green-blooded, neat-freak.” Leonard groused, frowning at the state of his room.

Leonard often consoled himself for his lack of cleanliness within the confines of his bedroom using the fact he very rarely sullied shared living areas. He liked to think of his room as a sort of nesting area; cluttered, but cosy and homely. Spock thought the state of his room was indicative of his disorganised mind and illogical outlook on life. He looked around his room, trying to decide how to partially tidy it most effectively before Spock got out of the shower.

Ultimately, he decided to leave anything that could be passed off as studying material (including, but not limited to the notes Jim had left behind on Starfleet-approved mixed martial arts) and to gather all clothing into one pile behind the door. He had just finished that and was contemplating moving some of the collection of unwashed, half-empty mugs he’d forgotten about into the sink when someone cleared their throat at the threshold of the door, causing Leonard to jump. “Goddammit, Spock, y’could’ve killed me!” He snapped, subtly kicking the sleeve of one of his hoodies behind the door.

Spock’s eyes followed his foot as he attempted this subterfuge, which lead him directly to the pile of clothes. He raised an eyebrow, looking back at Leonard. “I was unaware the human heart was so poorly designed that even one belonging to a relatively fit for duty, young man was susceptible to cardiac arrest caused by unpredictable scenarios. It leads me to wonder why Starfleet consists mostly of such an inept species.”

The adorable, sleepy Spock had disappeared, leaving the sharper, more alert, more dangerously attractive Spock that Bones was going to have a hard time not coming onto over the next year. “I think I preferred you when y’couldn’t string together a sentence.”

Spock’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally as he stepped purposefully towards Leonard’s desk. “You are hardly the image of a functioning officer after your rest cycle has been disrupted, McCoy.” He quipped, pouring over the notes Leonard had been working on before the whole tea-spilling fiasco. “You have been repeatedly transcribing the same five notes for upwards of an hour, if you maintained a constant rate of words per minute.”

Leonard shrugged, striding over to his desk to snatch the notes back defensively. “What of it?” He snapped, picking up his pad of paper (not good for the environment, but he’d loaned his PADD that he usually used for revision to Jim a week ago and wasn’t due to get it back until that weekend) and old-fashioned pen that used to belong to his mother.

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard’s odd behaviour, picking up the textbook that had started to slip down the back of the overcrowded desk to leaf through it. “It is a highly inefficient method of study. Particularly given your current time constraints.”

“Spare me the lecture, Spock. It works, and that’s all that matters.” Leonard drawled, having already resumed his scribbling, desperately attempting to commit one of the longer definitions required for the exam to memory.

“That statement has no grounds in fact, nor does your extension based on the untruth follow any semblance of logic.”

Leonard uttered a string of curses in his native tongue, making Spock consider taking Earth English classes on the side, if only to aggravate the med student in his own native tongue. Not that Spock would ever admit to such irrational motivations. “Dammit, Spock,” Leonard’s familiar growls in Standard had less venom than they usually did this early in their verbal sparring, a fact that drew Spock’s concern sharply onto the med student. “,either sit down and help a guy out, or get out and let me be. Ain’t that hard.” Spock eased himself down onto the human’s bed carefully, sitting cross-legged beside him with the textbook balanced carefully on his knee.

“I have heard you listening to music whilst studying on previous occasions. I have noted you do not tend to do so while I am meditating, however, I am doing so now. If it assists you, I would recommend you indulge.” Carefully watching the human for signs of distress while he spoke, Spock decided another snip at him would not hurt him. “Your human focus is dismal enough without depriving it of the stimulus necessary for it to operate at an acceptable level of efficiency.”

Spock watched with mild satisfaction as Leonard threw his archaic study materials down in a small rage, his eyebrows practically dancing as he spluttered furiously for exactly 3.2 seconds before responding coherently. “Why, you listen here, you green-blooded son-of-a-bitch, y’ain’t doin’ much good in this here bedroom, so you’ve got about three seconds ‘fore i throw you out!”

Spock unfurled himself and stood, but he didn’t make a move for the door. Instead, the stoic bastard moved back to Leonard’s desk, sorting papers into piles as he systemically searched the surface for something. Finally, he picked up Leonard’s music device: a miniature PADD his younger sister had constructed for her first set of practical engineering exams, programmed to run audio files only. “A’ight, give it here.” Leonard stretched out his hand, palm up, waiting for Spock to hand it over. Spock took a moment to briefly page through the audio files Leonard had equipped the tiny device with, the corners of his mouth turning down fractionally. “Somethin’ the matter, Spock?”

“I was under the impression that humans preferred to listen to classical music whilst studying?”

“That is classical, Spock.”

“I do not recognise it.”

Spock looked up just in time to watch the furrows between Leonard’s brows deepening. “Well, it’s classical, terran music, not vulcan, so I don’t suspect y’would.”

Without thinking, Spock said, “My mother made sure I was acquainted with many kinds of classical terran music as a child. I expected to recognise at least one of these songs from the information she provided me with.”

“Your mother liked terran music?”

Spock didn’t even pause to consider the trust required for him to offer an insight into his personal history. He just did. “My mother was human. I am only half-vulcan.”

“Might be half-vulcan, but you’re still a whole pain in the ass.” The rapidity of Leonard’s answer set Spock totally at ease, and the vulcan allowed himself to relax slightly in the presence of the human. “Y’still’ve done absolutely fuck all to help me, and I really do need to study. Y’can stay if y’want, but I can’t be shootin’ the breeze with you all night, y’hear?”. Spock’s look of confusion at the idiom was enough to send Leonard back on the defensive, and he was about to launch into a strong verbal eviction from his room when something almost-but-not-quite-clear quickly swept over Spock’s eyeballs. “What in the fucking HELL was that!” He shrieked, immediately grabbing his training tricorder from under his bed and scanning Spock, studies forgotten.

Spock’s alarm was only notable in his shoulders, which tensed as Leonard crowed into his personal space to a degree that would’ve been considered improper on Vulcan. Spock did not make any movement to rectify this situation. “McCoy?”. Leonard was muttering to himself as he scanned Spock for a third time. “Leonard?”

“What was that, Spock?”

“I am unclear on what it is exactly you are referring to.” Spock maintained solid eye contact with the Leonard, concern for the human’s mental well-being bubbling under his cool exterior. Leonard blinked, twice, incredulously, before putting his hand on the junction between Spock’s neck and shoulder, which was covered by his turtleneck. He looked at though he was going to say something before he went extremely pale and spluttered incoherently for a few moments before beginning anew with his tricorder scans. “Leonard?”

“Spock, something’s happening to your eyes.” He growled in response, pressing at the junction where his hand rested. “Turn your head, I want to scan it from another angle. Do you feel dizzy, nauseous, anything out of the ordinary?”

“Nothing. The level of confusion I am experiencing is within normal parameters for my interactions with you.” Spock felt a wave on content pass over him when McCoy stopped scanning for a second to glare at him, before shaking his head and resuming his activities.

After a few minutes, he withdrew the scanner, dragging a hand down his face. “Spock, I don’t suppose vulcans happen to have a second pair of eyelids, do they?”

“Have your anatomy classes failed to cover that of vulcans?” Spock narrowed his eyes, deflecting from the fact that he didn’t actually know if the second eyelid was still a functioning part of vulcan biology. He’d learnt about it as a vestigial organ, but his hybrid nature had fascinated many scientists back home. One of the reasons he had decided to leave for Starfleet; Spock had hoped to avoid the invasive poking and prodding done in the name of research. That being said, the soft poking sensation of Leonard’s fingers through his shirt was far from uncomfortable, and Spock felt strange when the sensation stopped.

“We do, but the piss-poor files the VSA are willing to relinquish to us mere humans are so fucking full of redaction and contradiction that all we’ve left to work with are a few vague diagrams and thoughouly unhelpful paragraphs on the composition of vulcan blood.” Leonard took a step back from Spock, restoring the traditional respectful distance between them. Much too distant for Spock’s liking. “You’re sure you’re not going to die in the next few hours until we can get you to the sickbay tomorrow?”

“I do not need-”

“Spock, you’ve not only burnt yourself-”

“It is superficial at most, and does not require-”

“-but you’ve just discovered what might maybe be an eyelid but could equally -for all we know- be-”

“-medical attention. Your anxiety is unwarranted and your focus on your studies has waned to what could prove to be a detrimental degree if you do not-”

“-a malignant growth of some sort, you have to go to find out if that thing is hurting you or not at least-”

“-cease your illogical fussing and resume.”

“-and I- Spock are you even listening to me?” Leonard’s gradually increasing volume finally peaked out, and Spock raised an eyebrow at the outburst. “Ah. shit, the neighbours.”

“At this hour, we can hope they are in a deep enough sleep not to have heard-”

“Are you kidding me Spock, I practically screamed-”

“If we continue in this vein, you will lose what little volume control you posses. Please sit down once again and I shall try and gauge how much you have prepared for this test already and we shall start from there.” Spock’s eyebrow lowered itself slowly as he relaxed once more, Leonard sitting down on the bed close to the headboard, making it easy for Spock to sit relatively close to him without making it look like anything but a logical decision for optimum viewing of the human’s notes. Not that it wasn’t motivated by logic. The fact his side was pressed soothingly to Leonard’s was a pleasant bonus. “That eyelid thing is a bit strange, you’re sure it doesn’t hurt?”

Spock levelled him with a flat stare. “I shall visit the nurse tomorrow if you cease this discussion.”

Leonard shrugged and dropped his head down and began working on a list of things he felt confident on for the next day in an attempt to hide his smug smile. It didn’t work, but Spock didn’t say anything.

A few hours later, they had taken a break from Spock’s relentless verbal assessments for Leonard to give his brain a chance to process the points they had been drilling and for Spock to asses the data he had collected on Leonard’s rate of retention of information to try and streamline their next bout. Except Leonard’s head had dropped onto Spock’s shoulder, and the heat from where their sides were pressed tightly together was relaxing Spock into a borderline meditative state. It was only when his chest started to vibrate lightly when Spock snapped himself back to reality, confident he had not woken his study mate with his unfortunate vulcan habit. Hubris was not a trait vulcans were capable of possessing, so Spock classed his slide in judgement as a calculation error, not as a result of unfounded pride.

“Were’y’... purrin’, Spock?” The human’s voice was muffled by Spock’s turtleneck, so the flush high on the his cheeks went unnoticed by Leonard.

“It is... an unfortunate, involuntary response of Vulcans.” Was Spock’s clipped answer, suddenly awake and almost frantically pouring over the notes he had made on Leonard’s progress.

“Mmm, sounds like more of y’all’s goddamn cagey nature. Outta be somethin’ your doctor outta know.” Leonard slowly picked himself up off of Spock’s shoulder. Spock felt irrationally irate at the loss of contact, despite the fact their sides remained pressed together. “Ah, shit. How long was I out?”

“Twelve minutes.” Was Spock’s response, glad to have moved on from his embarrassing lapse in control. Leonard’s response wasn’t forthcoming, so Spock chanced a glance at his roommate, only to find his mouth wide open, eyes closed, and seemingly struggling for breath. Spock’s basic first aid training kicked in, fully aware that humans, much like vulcans, required a constant supply of oxygen, and he began to thump at Leonard’s back, the angle much too awkward for him to apply the force necessary to dislodge whatever may have been blocking the med student’s airways. Except, the med student seemed to have cleared his airways on his own. And was using his perfectly clear airways to yell at Spock.

“The hell’re you doin’? Coulda seriously hurt me with that goddamn “superior vulcan strength” you won’t shut up about! Ain’t a fella allowed t’yawn in his own damn bedroom?”

Spock quickly stood up from the bed, and Leonard watched as the relaxed stance the vulcan had had previously completely vanished. “You appeared to be in respiratory distress. The training I have thus far received in first aid on humans required the first thing to do in such a situation would be-“

“Dammit Spock, I’m a med student, I know what t’do when someone can’t fucking breathe! I, oddly enough, was breathing just fine!”

Spock’s chin lifted fractionally, the last of his near-tender demeanour hardening. “Incorrect. Your chest ceased to rise and fall regularly, you had opened your mouth for maximum oxygen intake and yet you did not inhale, and the distress weakened you insofar as you were forced to close your eyes.”

Leonard looked at him, incredulous. “I yawned.”

“I do not understand. Does this correlate with your -“

“I yawned, you thick-skulled-“ Leonard stopped and took a breath, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Don’t worry, s’just an unfortunate, involuntary response of humans.”

Spock recognised he was being quoted, but unlike previous, malicious quotations made by various humans (including this patprticular one), his roommate did not seem to be trying to get a rise out of him, so he decided to retaliate. “That is the nature of most human responses, voluntary or otherwise.”

The outraged eyebrow that was slowly creeping up Leonard’s forehead was completely undermined by the sleepy grin that was taking over his entire face. “I’m not going to get much more study for this assent done, huh?”

“Assessment?”

“Yeah, the thing we’ve been studying for.” Leonard looked confused, but Spock’s head tilt betrayed his own befuddlement.

“You referred to it previously as an exam.” His arms crossed his chest, marring his perfect posture slightly. It looked to Leonard that, despite his confusion, his roommate was more relaxed than he had been.

“Yeah, an exam, an assessment, no difference, is there?”

Spock would later deny the look he gave Leonard was ‘incredulous’, Leonard would exaggerate his expression into one of absolute shock when retelling the tale to Jim the following evening. “There is a considerable difference, Leonard. Considering the brevity of this particular elective, the only grade that might impact your final score will be the final examination. Assessments in such a relatively insignificant elective will not affect your final grade in any serious manner.”

“It’s a matter of pride, Spock.” Leonard smiled, shaking his head. “Gotta keep up appearances.”

Spock glowered down at his roommate, the expression so slight that Leonard didn’t notice it at all. The silence strung out for a moment longer than absolutely necessary before Spock sat down at the foot of Leonard’s bed. “Pride is illogical, McCoy.”

Leonard snorted, shaking his head. “Pride and spite are the only things that keep me going, take ‘em away and I wouldn’t do a thing.”

He watched as Spock’s eyebrow crept upwards, his head tipping lightly towards him. “Your finger brushed my collarbone earlier, when you touched my robes.”

Leonard went a bright red, and his respiratory distress seemed genuine this time. He leapt off of the bed, putting the distance of the width of the room between them. “Fucking shit, Spock? Why didn’t y’tell me! Fucking touch-telepathy, that was probably stupidly invasive, wasn’t it? Shit, shit, shit! I’m sorry. I’m fucking dense, I thought- I don’t know what I was doing, shouldn’t’ve gone near you-”

“Calm yourself Leonard-”

“And now you’re too polite to call me out on it, goddammit, we had lectures on proper conduct with vulcans, fuck-”

“Leonard.” Spock had stood and walked over to the human. Leonard was shocked when Spock put his hand on his shoulder. “There is no offence taken, do you understand?”. Leonard seemed to have lost his voice, but nodded. “I only brought up the incident because I sensed only concern and concentration from you through the contact. There was no bitterness, no concern for your pride or reputation. You saw your patient and thought of nothing but how best to administer effective and efficient treatment.”

Leonard had not made any indication of wanting to brush off his hand, so Spock decided to return to the personal space he had occupied while Leonard had been scanning him earlier. Leonard blinked several times, eyes crossing slightly to stare at the tip of Spock’s nose, only an inch, maybe less, from his own. His mouth suddenly went dry, and he swallowed hard, once. Spock’s nose had never looked so kissable. He shook his head- not an appropriate thought to be having while Spock was, wait, what was Spock saying? Leonard could hear him speaking, but his brain wasn’t processing the words correctly. Or at all. He thought maybe he was complimenting him, or maybe trying to get Leonard to explain his dry, almost self-critical comment. Hell, Spock could be reciting Shakespeare for all Leonard knew. Or cared. The vulcan’s voice was deeper than it was normally, more like it was when he had been sleepily pouring his tea earlier, less like it had been for their shared life up until today. The vibration of this deeper voice reminded him of the purring, the utter relaxation and warmth that had accompanied those vibrations, and... and Spock was still talking and Leonard still had no idea what he was saying because his mouth was moving very nicely, had his mouth always moved that nicely?

“BONES!” That voice would pull Leonard out of any dazed stupor he could possibly fall into. That voice, with that tone always meant one of two things. Jim needed his help, or Jim had done something he needed to confess to that would probably piss Leonard off. “BONES? YOU HOME?”

Spock had somehow managed to perch himself on the edge of Leonard’s desk, textbook and notes in hand, pointedly not looking at Bones. Rolling his eyes, Leonard walked out into the living area. “What the fuck have you done, Jim?”

“Bones!” Jim practically bounced over to the med student, which meant he’d absolutely fucked something up that was going to piss him off. Clapping his shoulder playfully, Jim used the momentum of his bounce to swing himself around Bones, heading for his room. “You’re not going to believe what a weird mix-up there’s been, man! So, look, I-why, hello, Mr.Spock!” Jim glanced over his shoulder with an “i-cannot-believe-you-got-the-hot-guy-we’ve-both-been-crushing-on-into-your-room’ look on his face, his mouth slightly open and his eyes comically large in mock disbelief. “What’s a hot guy like you doing in a dingy place like this?” He had turned his impish gaze back on Spock, gesturing vaguely around Leonard’s room as he mentioned the ‘dingy place’.

Spock’s face remained impassive, not betraying the flash of amusement he always felt when the younger human flirted blatantly with him. “Vulcans’ core temperatures are, on average, actually lower than that of humans.”

Where Leonard would’ve snapped back a witty counter attack in order to incite a fascinating debate, Jim simply leaned right into the lewd implications only he could draw from such a droll, basic fact. “Are you saying that you think Bones and I are hot, Mr.Spock?”. The man had far more confidence in his charismatic abilities than any other human Spock had seen knocking their own glasses off of their face when discussing something passionately with a lecturer.

Spock was about to fire back a response -noting in the back of his mind that of the friendships he had deliberately built with a select few humans in the hopes of appeasing his mother, the ones he had formed with Jim and Leonard, though not particularly strong yet, brought him a feeling of completion- when Leonard came into the room, red-faced and rolling his eyes. “Shut up, Jim, you’ll make him uncomfortable. Vulcans don’t flirt, that’d require expression of emotion.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at Leonard, mildly puzzled. Had Leonard not recognised their discussion before Jim had arrived for what it was? Was his respect and admiration of the medical student not clear?

“What is it you’ve done, Jim?” Bones had leaned himself against the door frame, staring fixedly at his ex-roommate, who was glancing between Spock and Bones with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Well, I was going to apologise for a stupid thing I did, but seeing as it wound up with all three of us in a room with a bed, I’d say no apologies needed.” Jim couldn’t keep a straight face delivering that line, his flirtatious demeanour crumbling into pure giddiness. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop. S’just weird seeing the two of you together, it’s like you guys exist separately in my mind, and seeing you getting cosy in Bones’s room is just so wacky-“

“Jim!” Bones’s bark made Jim laugh even harder, and Spock allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch ever so slightly as Jim’s merriment grew and Leonard became more and more flustered. These humans affected Spock more than he’d care to admit, and watching them interact brought a sense of contentedness over him. “It’s fucking crazy o clock in the morning, what in the hell could’y’ve done that y’need to confess so bad?”

“Small scheduling error, Bones, no big deal! In my defence, I didn’t realise how late it is, I was reading this really cool book that Galia’s sister sent her, so far it’s been absolutely gripping, can’t put it down-“

“Jim.”

His blue eyes darted around the room nervously as he giggled anxiously. “You don’t have a test tomorrow, Bones, I do. I fucked up and logged it in the PADD you’d loaned me instead of my own PADD, so I guessed you got a reminder and I know your memory is shit outside of your studies, so I figured you’d be up cramming-“

“Jim-boy, what’d you just say? Because if you said what I think you said, I’m going to-“

“Leonard, I would not recommend engaging in a physical altercation with Jim. He has considerable more experience in such matters.”

Spock felt a shiver down his spine as Leonard’s dangerously icy glare turned on him. “Are you sayin’ y’don’t think I can take ‘im, Spock?”

“That is not what he said Bones! C’mon, how bad was it? You got to bond with your roommate, and now my two best friends are on speaking terms, at least. Sounds like a win-win to me!”

“I’m gonna need the two of y’all to get the fuck outta my room, if I’m going to get any sleep at all before tomorrow.”

Jim’s smirk got even more mischievous, the glint in his eye almost dangerous. “Maybe we’ve planned for you to get no sleep tonight, Bones.”

“I resent your implicating me in your antics, Jim.” Spock was definitely grinning, goddammit! There’s no way a vulcan could manoeuvre their mouths any further into a vague smiling shape.

“You’re not denying it-”

“Both of y’all need to shut up and go to bed, it’s late.” Leonard groused, having had enough of Jim’s playfulness, which was a bit too much for how late it was. Also, the thoughts and feelings he was invoking in Leonard with his meaningless teasing were enough for him to overthink on for the rest of his life. Jim’s pout made Bones fully aware of just how much he wouldn’t mind kissing his best friend, which reminded him of how close he had been to doing just that to his roommate, which reminded him of how it was just his fucking luck to be attracted to the two people he most defiantly shouldn’t be attracted to. The two most unattainable people on campus. He was probably a sadist. Jim sat next to Spock on his bed, and Spock had turned to mutter something in Jim’s ear. On his bed. He was absolutely a sadist.

“That’s a good point, Spock. I think it’ll be difficult to strong-arm him into spending more time with the two of us as well.”

Spock had the good grace to look up at Leonard with what could be interpenetrated as an apologetic expression. “Those were not my... exact words.”

“I’m a med student, not a socialite, dammit!” Jim was sitting very close to Spock, they looked so right together it was sickening, and Spock was clearly mooning over Jim, and Bones... Bones needed to sleep. Now. “I’ll come over to your place tomorrow after I get out of the labs at six, Jim. If Spock comes, he comes. I don’t care.” He did care. A lot.

“Seeing as two of us live in these quarters, it would be more logical for us to reconvene here, would it not?”

“Nah, Jim’s got a better replicator.”

“I’ve also got better taste in holos, so...”

“You absolutely do not-”

“I don’t think watching documentaries counts as a relaxing night in-”

“I shall be there, eighteen-hundred hours.” Spock interrupted, his expression doing nothing to ease the daydreams determinedly banging at Leonard’s subconscious as he looked between the two humans. That odd eyelid-thing slid open and shut twice, which Leonard probably shouldn’t have found cute when he didn’t know whether or not it was hurting Spock. But he did, nonetheless.

Jim clapped Spock’s shoulder, which stopped the eyelid blinking, and resulted in a rather cat-like freezing of his entire frame. “Excellent!” Jim jumped up, bouncing out the bedroom door. “It’s a date, gentlemen!” And he was gone before Leonard’s outraged spluttering could hold him up.

“It’s not a- dammit, we’re not- Spock-”

Spock stopped to place his hand on Leonard’s shoulder, deliberately making eye-contact. “To borrow Jim’s turn of phrase, ‘it’s a date’, Leonard.”

And that rendered Leonard totally speechless, left staring mutely at Spock’s retreating back. What the fuck kind of emotional fuckery had he gotten himself into?

#im feral for spones goddamnit #spones #spock #bones #bones mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy #academy au #author is lazy so joanna is bones's sister #jim kirk is in here somewhere #jim kirk #basically me projecting onto bones for over 2000 words #this would've been a little bit more legible if i'd focused it on either bones or spock but i DIDNT DO THAT #this is the definition of self-gratuitous #star trek #fic #star trek fic #wait no projecting onto bones for over 4000 words im so sorry #spock doesn't know what a yawn is and thinks leonard is dying #bones doesnt know about the vulcan second eyelid and thinks bones is dying #also purring is in here #becuase i am HERE FOR vulcans=logical cats #bored writes #mckirk #i guess #that wasnt meant to happen but here we are #also mcspirk #mcspirk #hakhalkhsalkha #me projecting onto bones for around 6000 words because i literally dont shut up ever

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abalonetea · 4 years

Note

Heyo! So I'm like suuuuuuuuper lost on like all of your WoW posts lol. Would you mind giving me a basic run down of your characters pretty please?

hey! of course! i’ll be honest, i’m still making and fleshing out a lot of the character, but this is a pretty quick and basic run-down of what I've got so far! thank you for the lovely ask!

this is missing a few of the characters that aren’t super fleshed out yet, and yes, this is my largest cast out of the CHP series!

_-_-_

Wings of War is set during the early 1970′s, in an alternate history that allows for some advanced technology, the inclusion of Intent, and the addition of wings being a natural part of some human’s forms.

it follows four teams (fluctuating numbers between five and eight members at various points) who have been hired by the Guiding Star Corporation. their job is to “develop advancements in technology, human endurance, and product testing” which, as it turns out, means that they fight to the death in endless matches, brought back to life using what’s known as a Respawn Machine.

the teams (north, south, east, and west) are shipped between ten different bases, scattered across several different countries. this represents the ability to pick different maps in most fighting, pvp, or 1st person shooter games.

on each teams, there are specific roles that the GSC are looking to have filled. each team has a “building” class, for example, which creates the titles of Builder, Maker, Techie, and Engineer. the “sneak” class consists of Assassin, Spy, Rouge, and Thief. each class can only be filled by someone with a specific set of traits, which results in, essentially, total reliance on GSC.

two teams have wings, and two teams don’t. i’m still working on filling out all the roles and creating all the characters, but here’s a basic run-down of what I have so far!

_-_-_

Adele Adler - the handler, the woman in charge. She runs relay between all four teams, doling out missions, handling issues that arrive on and off base, and acting as go between for the Teams and the Council. she’s supposed to keep her distance between them, and had managed that for all the teams before now, but...the men are growing on her! she has a surprising soft spot for most of them, and finds herself more and more willing to turn blind eyes on their shenanigans.

Jeremy - West Team’s “fast class”, this boy is a Speedster through and through. he has a short temper, a severe anger problem, and briefly made a living running drugs out in Boston. his weapon of choice is a chunk of wood with some sharp nails in it, and he can hit harder than you would think. runs his mouth a lot but is the only person on his team with any ability to understand the words take care of yourself.

Joshua - West Team’s Sharpshooter, and originally from New Zealand. lives in a camper just inside of the perimeters of the base. anti-social and with no interest in changing that, he took on the job because there’s a very large bounty on his head that Adele promised to get rid of.

Feliciano - the Rouge of the West team, he tries very hard to make himself look proper and put together but usually fails. had a bad reputation going when he first started, because he was pretty sick and just Not Feeling Socializing, but it’s easy enough to see that he’s a good guy these days. a former bodyguard.

Lucas - the Techie, and originally from Sao Paulo. he loves sugar sweet coffee, and has a prosthetic leg that’s fueled by Intent and a rare mineral. a technical engineer, meaning he uses Intent to make new technological advances. can talk for hours if you hit a subject that he likes.

Deiter - the Doctor of West team. he’s a good man, though he tends to have extremely manic episodes that are not helped by the incredible amount of upper’s he can often be seen taking. lost everything when the city he lived in was blown up during WW2. fiercely protective of his team-mates.

James - known as the General of the team. fought in WW2. suffered a severe head injury that still affects him today. a kind man with a lot of personality, and a love for animals. if you tell him something, he will likely forget it. don’t hold it against him, because he’s already doing that himself.

Tony - the Runner and local loudmouth of North team. you cannot pay this boy to be quiet, and he’s both stupid as a bag of bricks and also incredibly intelligent. from New York, where he had a lovely stint robbing the Italian mafia blind with his husband, Rizzo, until they were both shot up and picked up by Adele.

Rizzo - the Demolitions Expert of North team, and actually pretty adorable if you can get past the fact that he’s incredibly crass and has no filter between mind and mouth. Hopelessly in love with his husband, even if no one else realizes they’re married. he will burn water if you let him cook, so maybe best if you don’t.

Werner - the North team’s Medic. he’s absolutely batshit, but has a good heart. was running a black market ring in the country side when Adele found him, though he was originally from Oslo. couldn’t speak anything but German and Norwegian before coming to work for the GSC. has two pet rats.

Francois - served as a spy in WW2, and currently the North team’s Assassin. has a HEART based injury with a lot of the same symptoms as tuberculosis. was picked up by the GSC with an offer of as-of-unheard of medication. sardonic, and prone to cracking jokes that most of his team don’t pick up on.

Loto - the Archer, and a member of North team. from the Louisiana bayous, and great with a cross bow. has an old coonhound that sleeps in bed with him, but who Loto claims to hate. often forgets that he needs to actually go to the kitchen and get food, and that the food he needs is easily available.

Braeburn - the Mechanic, and the longest running member of any of the active teams. has a prosthetic arm. really fond of sweet tea, and more idea of what’s going on than he’s willing to let on. bound up in so many contracts, it’s literally woven into his Intent.

Elias - the OG title, Soldier, and a member of South team. fought in WW2, where he briefly met Francois before being shipped to Poland. was discharged after being severely injured, and lived homeless on the streets for a while with BJ. originally from Canada but ended up in America during his discharge due to an error on his papers. suffers from brain tumors caused by extended exposure to Iradium in the war.

BJ - the Hurricane (class title will change, I just needed a placer, oops) of South team. left an abusive home at fifteen and has been on the streets since. took a contract with GSC to get Elias medical treatment. dyslexic, and often described by his team as “being a lot”. uses a steel pipe for his preferred weapon. loves talking and telling stories.

Olek - the Firepower of the team, literally. can probably punch you hard enough to get a KO, but fights with an Iradium powered flare-gun that does serious damage. from Russia, with a strict I won’t tell you anything about my past policy, and a bizarre fondness for bears. great at giving hugs when you’re down.

Jakob - the Maker of the team. has a highly advanced prosthetic eye. losing the vision in his other eye. the guy who picked up BJ and Elias. has a real morality struggle between the job he does, and his own views on Mercy. probably needs a hug more than he lets on.

Scout - the Scout of East team, and yes, he does think that’s funny. grew up the oldest of six kids, with a single mother. started doing deals behind the schoolhouse to bring in some extra cash, and it got out of hand when he got older. has severe ADHD. can and will count cards if you play poker with him. no common sense.

Jane - the Guard of East team. unofficially fought in WW2. a big softy, under all that gruffness. suffering from major hearing loss, and with the habit of virtually never taking off his helmet. a pretty shy guy, and any kindness sent his way will catch him off guard.

Christophe - the Spy of the team, he was drafted into the Korean War, where he served a grueling eight months before being attacked by military trained dog-horses and sent home. a chronic insomniac who never settled back into civilian life, and has an abysmally childish sense of humor.

Ollie - the Arsonist of the team, he was living homeless in Daytona before Seamus found him. has horrible decision making skills and a pretty rough past, and considers the base home near instantly. his self-care skills could use some boosting, and he tries really hard to not mess things up.

Seamus - technically the Gunner of the group, but he would rather just make a lot of bombs and use them instead. missing an eye, and has a lot of self-worth issues and a pretty heavy accent that his speech impediment doesn’t help. a drunk, but having Ollie around’s been proving to be good for him.

#wip wow #wow characters #wow chatter #bookish tag #I had so much fun writing this up

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jellyfishdooter · 5 years

Note

I'm gonna send you a fluff prompt cause that Jackie prompt must have really hurt to write. It was really good btw!!! How about marvin waking up from a nightmare and Jackie comes to comfort him^^ I'm in soft mood as you can tell :3

Aww thanks bean!

OH MY GOD HOW DID THIS GET SO LONG JESUS CHRIST

Uhh- enjoy below the cut!

~~~

Marvin stood in the middle of a fast field of golden grass that seemed to stretch on forever. The sky was as blue as his eyes hidden behind the mask.

There was no mask, but his eyes remained closed. His face was bare along with his feet. He could feel small insects scurrying across his feet, the soft grain of the grass against his hands.

The wind shifted and began to gently nudge the human along, swaying the grass to match the waves of the ocean and making his loose hair dance. The smell of fall was crisp on his nose.

Marvin began to walk, blind. Trusting the wind to take him along as he sang along to the song of the earth under his breath. A soft melody of whistling winds and dancing plants, with a strong and deep bassline of heartbeats and thunder.

Thunder. Marvin stopped walking when the wind turned from late summer warmth to a bitter cold. A chill running up his spine with a promise of rain. And as he opened his eyes, bitterly bright lightning flashed across the sky and made him gasp when the promised thunder clapped out after it- like a hunter finally hitting it’s mark after the chase. Rain shot down like needles ripping through his clothes- his skin.

It hurt!

Desperate, he looked around for shelter; for salvation. But there was nothing.

Another crack of lightning struck the ground and suddenly there was fire. It ran quickly across the crisp, dry grass and did not seem to be affected by the rain that already burned Marvin’s skin.

Normally, the human didn’t fear something as trivial as fire. But here, in this place.. He ran. The fire morphed and changed, growing as if it had consumed a city already was chasing the man without fear of losing kindling. The flames laughed cruelly as they licked at Marvin’s heels, forcing him to beat the ground faster.

But it wasn’t enough. The man was surrounded by fire, and being pelted with knife-like rain that caused millions of tiny cuts to draw blood on his skin. He looked around quickly, turning around and around, desperate to find a way out as the earth beneath him began to char and crumble. The dancing flames deceived his eyes- painting pictures of those he loved to have cruel faces of pure hate and disgust. They got closer to him, the glint in their eyes promising pain.

Marvin cried out as the ground under him gave out, sending him into a freefall into darkness.

Where bright red strings caught him like razor wire, stopping him from hitting the ground like in the gallows-

Marvin woke up with a shout, bolting upright in his bed as he gripped at his shirt around his heart, willing for it to slow down. He breathed heavily as his eyes darted around the room, quickly taking in his surroundings.

He told himself he was home in his room- but his brain was still half in his dream world, yelling at him that there is still danger. Tears pricked at his eyes as his mind tore in two, leaving him stunned and unsure what to do other than clutch onto his blankets and try to remember how to breathe.

It wasn’t long until a knock on his door made him almost jump out of his skin. Marvin managed to croak out a meek “Yeah?” and his eyes widened when he saw that Jackie was on the other side of the door. The magician quickly tried to dry his eyes with his sheets but it was pointless, the hero had already seen.

“Can I come in?” Jackie asked in a gentle voice, waiting until Marvin nodded numbly until he entered the magical man’s room. “Nightmare again?” His words were not scolding or tired, but filled with true concern.

Another nod. Marvin carded his fingers through his own mess of hair, not able to meet Jackie’s eyes. Jackie cautiously sat on the bed keeping his movements slow. Marv couldn’t help but bitterly laugh in his mind. The eldest ego was acting like he would shatter any second. Which.. Might have been true in all honesty. Not like Marvin would ever admit that, though.

“You wanna talk about it, or be distracted from it?” Jackie asked. It was routine at this point. Jackie would ask whether or not Marvin would want to discuss what happened in the dream to get it out of his system. Or the option to take his mind off the dream by just letting Jackie fill his ears with random babble until he got back to sleep or until the sun rose through the window.

“Distraction.” Marvin mumbled, pulling his legs up to sit criss-cross and make room on the bed for Jackie to do the same across from him. Jackie did so, his socked feet poking out from under his legs and he sat up straight to match Marvin, showing off the litterment of scars from saving the day and from his own personal battles. “Can we..” Marv started slow. Jackie had his full attention. “Can we do the, ah.. five things.. Thing?” The magician made a vague gesture in the air with his hand, hoping to get the point across to the hero.

Jackie blinked, a bit surprised by the request, but wasn’t against it either. “The five senses technique? Yeah sure, Marv. If you think it’ll help.” Marvin nodded and looked across to Jackie, their matching eyes finally meeting. Jackie gave him a warm smile. “Alright.”

They started with a deep breath. Jackie demonstrating for Marvin to follow along to. Breathe in through your nose slowly and hold. Before just as slowly letting it out through your mouth. They repeated this three times before Jackie started to talk again. “Look around the room here. Name five things you can see. Try to be specific.”

The magician looked around his bedroom. He had a lot of things in here. Shelves crammed with dusty leather books and other magical artifacts (and of course things like snow globes, fanart, and a few toy magic kits that he liked to collect). His work desk littered with notes for spells and jars filled with herbs and other things he decided that might be useful later. From his ceiling hung several colorful tapestries and crystals on strings that caught the silver moonlight filtering through his window. His wardrobe stuffed with both expensive, elaborate clothes, and also a selection of simple shirts and jeans. He didn’t even want to think of everything he had crammed in the cupboards and under his bed-

Marvin stopped himself before his mind got too much further off track. He glanced at Jackie, who was sitting as patient as a saint, before taking another deep breath and clearing his throat. “Well.. I can see my.. My copy of the Player’s Handbook for DnD night.. Um..” He scanned the large dark wood bookshelf just over Jackie’s shoulder, “My magic 8 ball.. A jar of sage leaves I need to replace. The purple geode Chase got me for my birthday. And..” He looked around and his eyes landed on his bedside table- also cluttered with another stack of books and more trinkets. “My rune spoon?” Marvin said with an awkward chuckle, picking up the wooden spoon he got from a fair a few years back for shits and giggles. But came to be one of his favorite tools while working with spells. Gently running his thumb over it, he looks over to Jackie once again.

“Good job!” Jackie cheers softly, keeping his voice low as to not wake up the rest of the house. The walls here were pretty thin unless Marvin put a charm up to deafen the noise during the day. The older ego takes another deep breath, prompting Marvin to do the same before carrying on. “Okay, tell me about four things you can touch around you. Really try to describe how they feel if you can. Heh, seems like you’re already ahead of the game.” He nods to the wooden spoon in the magicians hand and smiles. Not to mock him, gods no. But to show that he really did care and was here for him.

Marv had to take another breath when memories of the burning fire and sharp rain from the dream filled his mind and whispered phantom pains across his arms and feet. “The wood of the spoon is smooth.” He interrupted his own mind from spirling back to the nightmare. “Polished but not sticky with gloss. Uhh,” He set the spoon aside and laid his hands flat on his PJ pants, “Smooth again. But.. more silky and soft.” He moved one hand to the blanket covering his lap and rubbed it between two fingers, “Fluffy. Not really like a cat’s fur but.. Softer. Warm.” Running out of ideas in the moment, Marvin reached up and touched his own dark wavy hair. He grimaced. “Soft but.. Oily. Gross. I need a shower.” He stuck out his tongue in disgust at himself, causing Jackie to chuckle softly.

Another deep breath together. “Halfway there. This one is a bit harder.” Jackie warned gently, “Name three things you can hear.”

The magician paused before letting his eyes slip close so he could focus on the quiet sounds of the sleeping house. “I can.. Hear the traffic outside. Those poor saps who have to get to work at an ungodly hour making the commute.” He chuckled to himself, tilting his head to listen through the walls the best he could. “Chase is snoring in his room.. Or maybe he passed out in the living room? Not sure.” A faint smile played on his lips as he focused once again to listen to the sounds of the room itself. There wasn’t a lot of sound in here… “Your breathing. I can hear your breathing from here.” He opened his eyes again, “And no, that’s not an insult.”

Jackie couldn’t help but laugh, beaming brightly as Marvin came back into himself again, slowly forgetting his nightmare. “Apology accepted?” He quipped, scooting closer to Marv before taking another breath with him. “I’m here to help with this one. Name two things you can smell.”

Marvin laughed at the hero, shaking his head but sniffing the air anyway. “Yep. You’re a stinky bastard alright.” He joked, gaining a light-hearted shove from Jackie. “Hah. And..” He looked around a bit before raising his blanket to his nose and taking another long sniff, “My blankets got washed yesterday so they smell.. I dunno, clean?”

“Works for me.” Jackie encouraged, reaching over Marvin to open up his bedside table’s drawer and pull out the other man’s small jar of stashed chocolate drops. “Last one. I’m gonna make it really easy for you.”

Marvin mocked a scoff, “Excuse me, Sir. But I don’t believe I gave you permission to get your grubby hands on my stash.”

“Well if you don’t want a fuckin’ chocolate then I’ll just put ‘em back-”

“Now I never said that. Gimme.” Marv snatched the candy from Jackie’s hand as he held it up and popped it in his mouth with a low hum. “Chocolate. With a peanut center.” He said with his mouth still full, taking the jar back from the other ego and handing him a candy before putting the whole thing away. Jackie gladly took it and popped it in his own mouth with a cheeky grin.

“Feelin’ better, Marv?” Jackie asked once they both finished their sweet treats.

The magical man nodded lazily, his eyes starting to have trouble staying open once again. “Thank you. For.. putting up with…” He makes another vague gesture towards himself and sighs. “All this.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Jackie said, getting up from his spot on the bed and stretching- making a few bones pop in his back and knees. “I love being able to help you, man. It’s what I’m here for. And you know I’m just next door if you need anything else, right?”

“I-” Marvin was about to argue. Saying that he didn’t want to be a bother to Jackie or to disturb his sleep. But.. they’ve had this little argument before many times by now… “Thanks.” He simply replied instead as Jackie stopped at the door.

The hero turned back and gave him another smile, “Of course. Anything for you guys.” And with that, Jackie quietly closed the door behind himself. Marvin stayed sitting up, listening to Jackie return to his own room before settling back into the blankets himself. With a soft smile on his face and the nightmare mostly forgotten, the man slowly closed his eyes and allowed himself to sleep until the morning sun gently woke him up with a warm kiss.

#my writing #shut up jelly #fanfic #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #angst #fluff #nightmares #fire #comfort

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years

Text

Oblivion

PART ONE: RICH BORED KIDS

A/N: First of all lemme just say that it was my original intention to finish I See You before I dove into Oblivion, but Logan and my brain had other plans. So, proving once again that I am a slave to the characters that control me, here we go. This all takes place just before Logan takes William to the park for the first time, and the whole series is based on the song of the same name by Young the Giant.

Warnings: language, zesty cowboy times, all the horrible things that WW lets us get away with

Word Count: 2,015

You sighed with a roll of your eyes as she approached, the fingers of one lace gloved hand caressing her lips, the other perched on her hip. She was absolutely irresistible- to most visitors, on their first time in. But you’d seen it all before, and you had your eye on something else; someone else. You turned to the bartender who was in the midst of pouring your bourbon, and shook a finger at him. “Don’t waste the glass old timer,” you said as he paused, overgrown eyebrows raised questioningly. “Just leave me the bottle. Easier that way.” You reached across the polished wood bar relieving the old man of the bottle with a wink, and adjusted the wide brimmed black wool hat on your head. He nodded and shuffled off to wipe down glassware between serving other patrons. You turned back towards the room and leaned against the bar taking a long pull from the bottle in your hand, urging the amber liquid to do its job quickly so you could start enjoying yourself.

She continued to approach you- she had to, after all- the shiny material of her skin tight bodice picking up the dusty afternoon light filtering in through the thick window panes. You looked right through her, focusing on your target as she started delivering her spiel. She reached out, fingers grazing your shoulder with the grace of a ballerina. “You’re new,” she began, her sultry voice dripping from plump lips. “Not much of a-”

You held your hand up pressing two fingers to her mouth to silence her, all the while keeping your eyes locked on the man who had just emerged from a back room, still adjusting his fly. “Not this time, doll,” you said to the fishnet clad prostitute. This time I’m playing a different game. The girl smiled sweetly and left you to go after another prospect, and you smirked as your target made his way to a card table. Even though in here you couldn’t rely on clothing or jewelry to convey wealth or status, you could tell that he was from money- very old, very deep, very dirty money, you guessed. You could always pick a rich, bored kid when you saw one, always knew what it looked like when someone was spending that kind of money; you could see it in their eyes. No matter how alluring they may be, how attractive or confident or important they may seem, there was always a hollowness in their eyes. You knew because you owned a mirror and had seen that quality in your own reflection. He took a seat and reclaimed a tumbler of whiskey he must have left before abandoning the poker game for whatever game he was playing in that backroom. It was hard, but you peeled your eyes away from your target and trained them on the door, curious to see what brand of pleasure he’d been seeking back there.

You expected it to be that perky blonde one you’d seen at the Mariposa before- all tits and teeth as she flashed both around the room. You watched as the door knob twisted, and saw that you were right. Well, partially right. The perky blonde came out first, adjusting her corset strings, lipstick smudged from where your target’s thumb had been. But right behind her was an olive skinned woman with bony hips and long, slender legs, as well as a strapping brunette man, dressed mostly in black leather. Your smirk gave way to a full blown grin as you bit your bottom lip, gaze returning to your target. Oh, you thought, as his jet black eyes locked with yours. Oh, he knows how to play, alright.

You took another long pull from the bottle in your hand before pushing off from the bar with your elbows. Your boot heels clicked against the hard wooden floor as you sauntered towards him, enjoying the way his focus was falling from your eyes to your chest- to the way it was nearly spilling out of your black bodice- to your legs- carefully encased in black leather pants. You smiled at the way his eyes scanned the holster on your hip, at the way his grin spread when he noticed the bottle in your hand before coming back up to your throat, hidden behind a gingham neck scarf. You tilted your head strategically so that your long, thick braid would fall over your shoulder, and saw his eyes widen at the realization that he’d have something substantial to pull on. You pulled out the chair next to him at the green felted poker table and twirled it around so you could straddle the seat, resting your arms on the back. You set the bottle down on the table and looked right at your target. “You wanna deal me in, cowboy?”

He hadn’t realized that his mouth had fallen open, but you had, and you reveled in the little snapping sound as he bit the air to close it. You watched the muscles in his jaw clench, his neatly trimmed beard obscuring the view just a bit. “That depends, sweetheart,” he started shuffling the deck of cards with his deft, long fingers. “Can you afford the buy in?”

You licked your lips and narrowed your eyes at him. This is going to be fun. You’d been to Westworld plenty of times before, and at this point the whole thing was starting to become dull for you. Everything scripted. Everything controlled. It was still better than enduring the stiff boardroom meetings that your father and Erik were currently engaged in, which is why you always opted to spend your time in the park when they came to check on their investments. But the games were getting old, the storylines tired. There were lines of dialogue you had memorized by heart. You’d played the good girl and the bandit. You’d played the damsel and the daring hero. You’d spent time in Sweetwater and Pariah; hell, you’d even joined Ghost Nation out in the plains. Everything this place had to offer, you’d already tasted- shooting, fucking and drinking in every conceivable pattern. There was nothing you hadn’t done with or for or to a Host. A human, though, was something you hadn’t tried on any of your little adventures in the park.

You leaned forward further over the back of your chair to emphasize your full breasts, and dropped your voice. “I ain’t a sweetheart, sweetheart,” you lazily reached one hand up to tilt his hat back, getting a better look at those coal black eyes of his, as a low groan emanated from his lips at the forwardness you were showing. You had to be forward if your little game was going to work; you had to be just like one of them if you were going to get this lothario to fall for it. “And I can afford any ante.” You ran your fingers around the brim of his black stetson. “You callin’ my bluff, cowboy?” You let your voice drop even lower, laying it on thick, just like the Hosts were programmed to do when the target took the bait.

It seemed impossible, but his eyes darkened further, flashing obsidian as he reached up an wrapped his fingers around your wrist. You parted your lips and let them draw into a tantalizingly slow smile as he tightened his grasp. “How about we forget the cards altogether, sweetheart? I know a different game we can play.”

You rose from your chair, pushing your hips backwards to step over the seat in one fluid motion, your target’s eyes snapping to your ass just as you wanted. “Name’s Miranda, cowboy. I told you...I’m no sweetheart.” You turned towards the door to the backroom you saw him exit earlier. “How bout you, Cowboy? You got a name?” You looked over your shoulder at him, your braid falling down your back like rope. “I like to know who I’m fucking senseless, even if I’ll never see them again.” You licked your lips as he eagerly stood and dragged his chair out of his way.

“You’re gonna fuck me senseless, huh?” You could see the excitement in his eyes, but also in the tightening of his pants, and you nodded. “How bout you keep calling me cowboy...and if you make good on that promise to render me senseless, I’ll tell you my name.”

So he wants to play, too. “All in,” you said, using two fingers to knock over a stack of red and blue poker chips as you walked away from the table. The chips clacked together and spilled out across the table top as your target grabbed the bottle you’d brought over with you, taking a long swig as he followed you right back to where he’d just been.

As soon as the door was closed he’d grabbed you by the shoulders and pressed you roughly against it, lips finding the tops of your breasts as his fingers pulled at the knot in your scarf, shedding it so he could lick and nip his way up to your ear. His breath was hot and heavy with the smell of whiskey, and it made your eyes roll back and your chest heave.

“Thought I was the one supposed to be senseless, Miranda,” he teased, barely breaking contact with your skin, and you responded, swiftly wrapping one hand around the bulge in his pants, to which he hissed.

“Don’t rush me, Cowboy,” you whispered into his ear before taking it in your mouth.

He growled. “Yes ma’am.”

The rest was textbook. You pulled out all the stops and let him take control, and the game became trying to keep it together and not lose yourself in it- in him. It was incredibly difficult, though, as you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt an ecstasy this blinding. Erik hadn’t touched you in months and even when he did you cringed more than anything. His hands always felt like sandpaper on your skin, his body felt heavy and blunt, like stone. Your target’s hands were softer, and warm, and they knew where to go and what to do, his body worked in tandem with yours, pressing but never crushing. Where Erik’s tongue felt like a gag in your mouth, or a bullet, this stranger’s felt like a breath of life, and you hungrily responded, relishing the thought of Erik’s face when you told him you fucked a real live human in his absence; the Hosts he could care less about, but you knew his pride would take a devastating blow when you told him about Cowboy, here. Your thoughts were cut short as you ground your hips down and looked over your shoulder at him, one hand wrapped around your rope of a braid, tugging slightly as your name...no, not your name...the name Miranda left his lips in a moan. “Fucking, Hell!” he yelled out as he found his release, and a wanton grin crept up your cheeks. I won.

“Hell,” you panted, climbing off of him and turning to face him, baring your naked form to his eyes. “Hell is empty. All the devils are here, Cowboy.” You knew the Hosts’ dialogue was often supplemented with Shakespeare, so if you were going to play the part you were going to play it down to the quotes. You sunk back into the bed with him, his arms coming around your body as he pulled you on top of him to smother you with another bruising kiss. You let him until you felt yourself grow dizzy from lack of oxygen. You’d blacked out plenty of times and knew the line you were toeing. Just as your vision started to go white behind your closed eyes, you bit down on his bottom lip, breaking the kiss.

He let out a low sound from the back of his throat. “Logan,” he said softly, almost too softly. Softer than you thought someone like him would speak to a Host...to anyone. “Call me Logan.”

You kissed his shoulder. “Okay, Logan.” You rolled your hips against his, eager to keep the game going. “How about round two?”

@something-tofightfor @my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tags!

#logan delos #logan delos x reader #logan x reader #westworld #oblivion #the tempest #cowboy times #black hat #black hat forever #hell is empty

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razieltwelve · 5 years

Text

Thin (Final Rose)

“So… what do you think?” Blake asked Diana.

The dark-haired woman pressed her head against the wall and gave it a sharp knock before she eased back and stared at it. “Hmm… it’s a standard apartment wall. There’s nothing remarkable about it.” Her brows furrowed. “I’ve also had a look at it using a variety of different genetic templates ranging from radar and sonar to infrared and x-ray. There really isn’t anything weird about it at all.”

“I see.” Blake made a face. “Could you… make it more soundproof?”

Diana tilted her head to one side. “And why would you need it more soundproof?”

The Faunus looked away. “I may have received an anonymous note from one of my neighbours about, ahem, certain activities being especially loud at certain times of the, um, night.”

“So basically you’ve been having really noisy sex and the neighbours complained?” Diana grinned. “Was it Yang, Neo, Winter, or all three of them at once?”

“Well…”

“So all of the above them.” Diana cackled. “You guys really need to just buy a house or something. Thin walls are pretty common even in more expensive apartments. It’s just how things are done.”

“So you can’t do anything?” Blake asked. “We’ve been thinking of buying a house, but we haven’t found enough free time in our schedules for all of us to go look together.”

“Well… there are a couple of options.” Diana tapped her scroll and images began to appear above it. “The easiest one would be a silence emitter. It’s basically a device that nullifies sounds in a given area. However, they’re really most effective at stopping the movement of sound through air, and your problem is mostly caused by sound travelling through the walls, floor, and ceiling.”

“What else is there?”

Diana tapped her scroll again. “I could have you get all of your stuff out of the way for a couple of hours while I spray the place down with a specially developed coating that massively reduces the ability of sound to propagate through it. You could probably stab someone to death and nobody would be any the wiser.”

“Do I want to know why you’ve got that?”

“Meh. It’s perfect for interrogation rooms, which is what it was originally designed for. Oh, and it’s also been used to coat the walls of tunnels to reduce the noise they make.”

“I’m assuming there’s a catch?”

“I’m not saying it’ll poison you, but there’s a reason we don’t use it everywhere. It’s basically safe so long as you’re not spending hours at a time near it everyday, which is why we can use it on tunnels. Unfortunately, though, you will be spending hours at a time near it everyday if I coat your apartment with it.”

“Okay… next option.”

“Have you considered not having sex in your apartment or maybe having quieter sex?” The vicious glare Blake gave Diana was answer enough. “I see. Option number three is that I drill holes in the walls, floor, and ceiling and fill them with a special material that will absolutely absorb any sounds that a human or Faunus can make.”

“You can do that?”

“If your walls were solid brick, I wouldn’t be able to, but there’s more than enough airspace for it to work.”

“And what would the drawbacks be?”

“I’m going to have to put holes in the walls, floor, and ceiling. I may also have to rip open a few things to make sure the coverage goes all the way around. Other than that, though, it should do everything you need without any other significant drawbacks. I mean… your apartment will smell like plastic for a day, but that’s about it.”

“How long would it take for you to do?”

Diana gave the wall another tap. “With walls like this? Maybe half a day? To be honest, though, I wouldn’t be doing it myself. This kind of thing is minion work. It’s fairly straightforward, and the process has already been refined enough for any Level 2 or 3 minion to do it fairly easily.”

“Can’t you do it?” Blake asked. “I’d rather people not know that… you know…”

“Blake, if it makes you feel better, I can tell them that we’re putting in soundproofing because you like to murder people in your apartment. Believe me, the minions are not going to ask questions. We don’t have to say a word about you having crazy, noisy sex in your apartment.”

“…” Blake sighed. “Can you please just do it?”

"Blake, it’s really not that big a deal. It’s like going to the doctor. There’s no need to feel embarrassed when talking to your doctor, and there’s no need to be embarrassed when talking to the people doing the soundproofing. If it makes you feel any better, I will personally consider which minions I send to do the job.”

“Fine.”

X X X

The two young women that Diana sent to handle the job were easily the most… well… average people that Blake had ever seen. She honestly wouldn’t have been able to pick them out of a crowd, no matter how hard she tried, and she couldn’t help but feel that this might not even be the first time they’d met.

“Don’t worry about it,” one of the women said. “Everybody has a hard time remembering us.”

“It’s one of the reasons the boss hired us.” The other woman grinned. “We’re what you might call forgettable, which makes us perfect for infiltration and for doing jobs that people feel a bit uncomfortable with. We show up, do the job, and then people forget about us.”

“Well, not the boss,” the first woman said. “She never had any problems remembering us.”

“The boss is special. She never forgets anybody.”

“I guess.” The woman grinned. It was a very average sort of grin. “But that’s one of the benefits of being a minion. You’re not on your own. There are people who nobody forgets, and they have a part to play, same as we do. But we all work together, and we all get a nice slice of the pie when we’re done.”

“So… uh… do you know what to do?”

“Don’t worry, the boss already filled us in. Just go shopping or something. We’ll have this done by this afternoon. Just remember to leave all of the windows open, and you should be fine.”

“You’re a Faunus, right?” the other woman asked. “Here.” She handed Blake a modified surgical mask. “It’s designed to filter out the particles that make everything smell like plastic. You can wear it tonight and maybe tomorrow morning. The smell should be gone after that.”

“Thanks…” Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Wait… I think I know where I’ve seen you before?”

“Oh?”

“You helped Ruby and Weiss with their new shower.”

“Heh. Not bad. Both of us are really more into domestic and commercial construction. Just about anything you might want to do to a house or apartment, we can do. But death rays and satellites? Nah. The boss has other people who deal with that.” She handed Blake a card. “Here.”

Blake read the card. Building Blocks Construction. “Wait… Diana owns Building Blocks Construction? Isn’t that one of the largest construction companies in the world?”

“Boss owns a lot of things, you just don’t know about them.” One of the women smirked. “There are all sorts of laws around that are supposed to stop companies growing too big and powerful, but there aren’t many people better than the boss at finding loopholes. Have enough shell companies and corporate trusts, and nobody can work out who owns what without already knowing. She even owns Dynamic Development, which is supposed to be one of Building Block Construction’s biggest competitors. She hasn’t even told the executives of either company that they’re basically on the same side. She thinks it’ll make them perform better.”

“In fairness,” the other woman said. “Performance measures are up by 15% year over year for both companies.”

“But you two know?” Blake asked.

“Well, we’ve been with the boss since she was a teenager. She trusts us. We’re Level 5 minions, so she knows that we’re trustworthy. It’s not like you’ll tell anyone.”

Blake had to concede the point. “Is that why she sent you because you’re Level 5s?”

“Yep. A Level 2 or 3 could do the job, but they might get curious about you or what this is all for. Not us. We trust the boss’s judgement, and we know when to ask questions and when to keep our mouths shut. If you want to soundproof for your apartment, we’re not going to ask why. We’re just going to get it installed and then ask if maybe you’d consider us when you finally decided to build a new house because you can’t find a house that suits your… circumstances.”

“And what would you know about my circumstances?” Blake growled.

“Hey, easy. The boss keeps tabs on all her friends. She likes to get ahead of any potential problems. Based on your… situation… there isn’t a house within a hundred and fifty miles of here that meets your needs. However, there are several properties large enough for us to build a house that suits your needs. It’s not like money is going to be an issue, and who better to build a house through than the boss? Huntresses take home security very seriously, and we know how to build houses that can stand up to everything short of the apocalypse.”

“And what if there is an apocalypse?”

“Well, we could put in an underground bunker. The boss has several cutting edge designs that are perfect for home use. You can ride out the end of the world in comfort and style.”

“…” Blake took a deep breath. “Maybe I will take you up on that. I’ll be back this evening.”

“Have fun,” the two women said together.

X X X

Author’s Notes

Poor Blake. At least, she won’t have to worry anymore. As for Diana, she’s an expert at skirting the rules but staying on the legal side of things. She has her fingers in all sorts of pies, and she has quietly put together a truly imposing business empire. The most hilarious thing is that a lot of people don’t realise that Diana is one of the co-owners of Dia Technologies, and that Dia Technologies is far, far larger than anyone truly realises since it is, for all intents and purposes, a conglomerate combining all of the businesses that Vanille (and her kids) and Diana (and her kids) eventually amass.

You can find me on fanfiction.net, AO3, and Amazon.

Definitely check out my Amazon stuff if you enjoy my sense of humour.

#final rose #fanfiction #blake belladonna #diana yun-farron

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deathbyvalentine · 4 years

Text

Prompts

Corpus Christie, 1980

The club was crowded and slick with movement. Clouds of smoke hovered above the punters, the floor sticky with spilled drinks. The music was the perfect volume - so loud you could feel it through your feet. Coloured lights bathed every one, making even the most sinful drunks look half divine. Boys kissed boys, not in the dark. Girls held hands and slow danced. People who looked like neither, or both, or something else entirely laughed. Pills were passed tongue to tongue and numbers hand to hand. It was the end of the world and people were dancing. A plague had hit them, the young, the beautiful but they would not stop living.

Up on the second level, the private booths were occupied by the royal courts. In one, the Haus of Evagelista, queens of the ballroom. Next, the celebrities, hiding in plain sight. In another, a gorgeous leather daddy and his pets, reclining in the heat. And of course, the Veiled Court. In their usual spot, smoking their usual cigarettes, whispering between each other as though they were less of an individual and more of a hydra.

There were the usual silly rumours they were vampires. Old queens claimed to have seen them at parks in the sixties, or in photos of regiments even earlier. Some of the younger men claimed that they had been ill and one night with them had cured them. Some younger men said nothing at all, due to being entirely missing since one night with them. Their fates rested on something only the Court could see, evidently.

One thing was for sure - they were never in the jail cells or courtrooms that were second homes for so many of the customers here. And they were never caught looking rough, except for the big one, who seemed to look rough as a matter of course. They were untouchable. By the law, by the world, by time.

____________________________________________________

Stupid shit from my teens (CW, self-harm, suicidal urges.)

She held the shard of glass so tightly in her hand she could see a thin line of blood appear between her fingers. The other girl didn’t dare move, not even when her knees began to complain of the stones beneath them. Even her breath seemed jarring and sudden and she had to remind herself not to hold it. If Dee slit her wrists here, how long would it take her to get help? If she screamed, would the bar that owned this courtyard hear her? And were the great grey doors that were supposed to keep passers by out shut once more?

Her eyes kept being drawn back to the shattered glass on the floor. One of those fluorescent tubes, smashed. Dee was sat on a pile of wooden pallets. Outside of the courtyard, it was early evening. The golden sun would be drenching everything. It would be warm and bright. Here, they were entirely in shadows, enclosed by stern grey buildings. The shadows were cold but Lottie wasn’t sure if the goosebumps were entirely the product of the chill.

Slowly, she raised her hand to pry the glass from Dee’s hand. For a moment, she resisted. Then she relents, letting her best friend take the sharp object. This was how they worked after all. Lottie had pulled Dee out of roads, shoved fingers down her throat, talked her off more ledges than she could count. Dee was wild and Lottie saved her.

Lottie wondered what would happen if she swallowed the bottle of pills she had in her bag. Would Dee save her? Probably not. Some people weren’t meant to be saints. Some people weren’t meant to be saved. They had to save themselves or not at all. Lottie dragged Dee to her feet, slinging an arm around her neck and pulling her back in the direction of the street. Just another day.

________________________________________________________

Becoming the egregore

A thousand thousand points of light in darkness, each a complete human life. Mattias could feel them spread far and wide. It was like having a compass in his head, only it didn’t point north. It pointed the the territories of the Coast, to the citizens of each one. He could close his eyes and walk to Feroz without once opening them.

This did not happen slowly. It happened all at once. He woke up and there was something curled around his own spirit, like a second spine. Beliefs he always had were strengthened, his distaste towards other cultural customs strengthened. A quick insight from one of his more magically inclined sisters told him what he knew to be true. He was his nation, his nation was him.

He sat in his parador, legs crossed, cupping his cool tea in a fine china mug. From this position in Kahraman, you could see for miles around, the mountain lending to an incredible view. The bulk of his senses pulled him to the valleys and regions below. But not all. He could feel a family of his in Asvea, one single lonely dot at the border of the Iron Confederacy. And all the time, lights flickering out and new ones flickering into existence.

It was as natural as his sense of taste, or smell. It took no adjusting at all. As natural as breathing. But also a little painful. Just a little. Grief was going to have to become second nature to him. Luckily, he was Freeborn. He would balance it with joy, as he always did.

_________________________________________________________

The smell of rain

Peter sat on his branch, chin cupped in his palm, scowling out at the weather. The more he scowled, the more it rained, and so they were trapped in this miserable circle together. He had been in a foul mood ever since Tickles had broken his favourite slingshot. Tickles was carving a new one, but it was slow work and Peter wasn’t particularly patient. The other boys played listlessly, one eye watchfully on their leader. Some of their best romps were had during days when the outdoors turned against them. Peter would set an imaginary scene and they would live in there for days. But, on the other hand, some of their bloodiest arguments had also occurred. There were still scorchmarks on the ceiling from the last time and certainly nobody wanted a repeat of that.

Outside the Never Tree, the rain dripped off leaves. It formed new rivers and streamed down the mountains. Between stones, pools formed, birds and animals alike tipping their heads down to drink. It was not yet dark but still, no light seemed to touch anything, save the dark autumnal grey. It felt oddly peaceful. The pirates were below decks at sea. The boys were playing indoors. The tribes were inside their tents and caves, telling stories around warming fires. Neverland was beautiful like this too, no matter how much Peter wanted to deny it. Tonight he would go to sleep and sleep would clear his mind, the laundry of the previous day thrown out into the well of forgetfulness. The sun would rise and dry out the island, making it fit for adventures again. But for now, it rested.

____________________________________________________________

One of the séances, maybe? The Colin one?

The bang registered before the splatter did. It was deafeningly loud, echoing throughout the enclosed room. She jolted as if she had been the one struck and as she did so, the blood hit her skin. Phillp was on the ground, a bullet through his skull and quite dead. For a moment, everything was still. Marjie thought, as though from a great distance away, that it was odd that this had shocked her. She had seen dead men before after all. She had seen men with missing limbs, with their insides on their outsides, with barely any men left at all.

But then, she had never seen the blow that caused the maiming. She had never been privy to the great act of violence that took a man’s life. Her training took over, making her lurch to her feet, shrugging off her cardigan to help stem the bleeding. Not that it mattered. Of course it didn’t matter. She knew a hopeless case when she saw one, but she refused to think of Phillip in such terms. He was the most alive of any of them, a vital, bright man. He could not be so pale and unmoving forever.

Not-Colin had fled the room, pursued by someone. That seemed unimportant somehow. So Colin was a demon or a void creature. She had known that for several hours now she just had the damn proof. The cleverer ones could think about the repercussions and meaning of that. For now all she could think of was the chore of getting Phillip’s body to the Waiting Room. Praying that he passed on to where he should be. A good, Christian belief to have. And yet hoping, selfishly, he would come back to her.

Was this love? The absolute shock of loss, of not knowing how she could go forward without him by her side. She could not imagine her life without him there. Like missing a step on a flight in the dark, like thinking there was a light switch where there wasn’t. She went to clutch his elbow and clutched only air.

Her and Andrew sat on the stairs and held vigil, the unspoken between them, as potent as electricity. The grief could have drowned a world. They would sit vigil, together, Diana joining them. Until they heard, one way or another.

__________________________________________________

Lance preparing for the mission

Why did it have to be spores? He grimaced as he continued scrubbing out his rebreather. They got everywhere. He’d have to replace the entire mechanism afterwards. Or just cut out the middleman and toss the entire thing away and get a new one. The only thing worse than spores for the filter was rock-dust. Finally satisfied, he lay it on his desk to dry out. He internally ticked off the chore and surveyed his room.

Boots polished? Check. Rites performed? Check. Flight suit in the wash cycle? Check.

He hated trying to figure out what he had forgotten. There would inevitably be a moment, probably when some fungi lion was chasing him through a mushroom jungle when he’d realise this would have all went a lot smoother if he’d just thought to pack, I don’t know, his magical cat calming spray. Every damn time.

He tossed a notebook in his daysack, followed by a pack of cards and a comb for good measure. Always over prepare. Especially when you’re working with more than your own team. You never know what someone might throw at you. Sometimes literally. He put more bandages than was strictly needed inside his toolbox. He wasn’t risking it after last time.

The mining mission had been rather disastrous if you were just looking at how many injuries he had came out with. It had taken quite a while for the new flesh to heal and integrate after they’d had to cut quite so much necrotic flesh away. His stomach looked rather like a patchwork doll’s. He was in no hurry to repeat that experience. The Gardener could do one.

He wrinkled his nose. Infections could be caused by spores. Maybe he’ll pack a spare rebreather just in case.

_______________________________________________________

TWR: friendship/ This World In Which I Find Myself

Ash frowned, looking at her shoddy work. She would have been a shitty wife in the eighteenth century. The stitches were shaky, uneven. But the important thing was the patch was on the jacket. A little wonky, a little ad-hoc, but there all the same. She pulled on the jacket, tossing her grey hair out the way so she could see the effect. A small smile appeared, picturing the three of them side by side, all of them with the same patch.

Alice and Bella were a different type of friend. They didn’t want her to be better or braver. They saw her as she was. Exactly as she was. Terrible impulses, demon connections and all. Team Dickhead were all so noble, so good. She wasn’t either of those things. Did she even want to be those things? The world she was in was not those things.

She wasn’t sure if she ever believed the world was a gentle place. Her memories were fuzzy in the before of her life. Everything sharpened in the wake of after. There were some truths she had internalised, certainly.

For as long as she remembered, monsters were not killed by knights in shining armour, brave heroes or charming gun slingers. They were killed by people one bad day away from becoming one of the things they killed. Broken people, in one way or another.

Good people died was another such truth. They didn’t die for any reason or any plan. They died because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time or someone didn’t like them or because they were a fraction slower than their friends. She would lose more than she saved, and even on a good day, those she saved would not be the same people they once wear.

Bad things existed. More than you could take care of, more than you could kill, more than you could know about. You turned over one rock to see filthy things squirm underneath and there were still a hundred others waiting to find the light of the sun. It was relentless. Nevernending. Thankless.

The most profound truth was perhaps this; you did it anyway. Despite all the death and blood and injuries and screaming hopelessness, if you could help, you did. You couldn’t just walk away once the calling happened. It was the glimmer of light in it all. People helped. Clumsily, but they did.

Which is more than could be said for this God she kept hearing about.

__________________________________________________________

T67 writing

She flomped back on the bed, checking the small watch on her wrist. Six hours this time around. Not bad. The chemicals fizzed in her blood, making the soft haze come over her. Was it just her or did it actually feel better after being sober for a bit? It felt like switching off, like returning to something soft and comforting. Every muscle untensed and she raised an arm to wave a hand in front of her face, giggling at the trails it left in the air.

It was like there was two of her. One that was clever and could rule this place. One that she actually liked, one that was soft and beautiful and easy to love. She didn’t know if she could have both, but she certainly wanted to try. Sober when making business decisions, when training, when deciding how to move within the tenements. High when she was with Syn, when she was with clients, when she was off duty. She was saving money this way too, all towards getting the gear needed to dreamweave. She had no idea if she would be good at it or not, but for once she was silencing the little voice in her head telling her she was too stupid to even try. If she failed, she could do other things. Cerise did after all. And Cerise was basically to be emulated in all things.

She was glamorous and beautiful and people listened to her. She had a girlfriend who hung on her every word and a business that was just hers. She smelled divine and wore silk and laughed like music. Astrid wanted to be her. A little hero worship did nobody any harm. It was nice to have something to believe in after so many years of believing in oblivion.

______________________________________________________

One of your characters baking something.

The flour danced in the air, almost looking pretty in the golden evening sun. This type of light made everything look beautiful, including perhaps, her. Either way, she was resisting turning on the kitchen light until night had well and truly fallen to make the most of it all. Amelia believed fully in enjoying little pleasures wherever you could. Whether it was autumn’s beauty or a new pair of socks or even the jam tarts she was baking for no real reason at all.

She loved how they looked. Golden pastry framing strawberry jam she had sieved so much it almost resembled stained glass. She resisted the urge to touch only because she knew that they were still hot enough she would burn her fingertips. Prior experience had taught her the hard lesson of patience. She folded up her oven gloves and gazed at the steam curling from them.

This was her life. It was small but it was not unimportant. She baked because she could, getting dough under her fingernails and making her entire house smell like magic. This was the reward for being alive and it was a good one. She didn’t regret it. She bit into a tart, the jam burning her tongue just a little. Sometimes, she liked ignoring the lessons she had learned.

#prose #prompts #fic

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sizzleitupwithmaria · 5 years

Text

the challenge is on, foolish mortal

1. how tall are you?

5 feet 7 inches

2. what is your body type?

i’m shaped like an hourglass but i’m also a lil chubby

3. what is your favorite part about your body?

i occasionally like my face and this is a little bit weird but i have pretty good tits

4. is your current hair color your natural hair color?

yep!

5. are you more outgoing or more shy

dude i’m shy af

6. are you more femme or butch?

i’m a pretty solid futch

7. are you tol or smol?

i’m tol bitch!!

8. wine mom or vodka aunt?

i feel like i’m a vodka aunt, but i’m also 14 and don’t commit crimes

9. weird habit?

i stick my tongue out whenever i’m super focused and i used to be really self conscious about it

10. favorite meme?

my current favorite is the shen yun memes but i don’t have an all time favorite

11. do you sing in the shower?

no bc the bathroom is right next to my parent’s bedroom :):):)

12. ever used a bow and arrow?

yeah i was in girl scouts for a while

13. are you/were you a theater kid?

see basically all of my vent posts and you’ll find the answer (i’m in a weird relationship with theater right now, but we’ll have to see how sophomore year turns out)

14. have you ever seen a broadway musical?

yeah!! i’m also seeing another one in 112 days lol

15. do you think musicals are cheesy?

some are, but that doesn’t make them bad

16. have you ever been part of a protest or a march?

yeah, i went to march for our lives last year!!

17. favorite cards against humanity card?

i don’t actually own or play CAH, but i like “Bees.”

18. last movie you watched?

newsies, but that was only to grab screenshots lol (maura will know)

19. behind the camera or in front of it?

both!!

20. favorite tv show?

uhhhhh frasier?

21. meaning behind your url

sizzle it up with taako is a taz reference

22. reason you joined tumblr

i have no fucking idea bc it was so long ago

23. who’s your closest tumblr friend?

i’d say @baura-bear but i’ve also known her irl for 8 years? i don’t actually have any purely tumblr friends, feel free to hmu

24. what’s something most people love that you hate?

most foods

25. have you ever taken narcotics?

considering that i had to look up what that meant, the answer is no

26. have you ever had sex?

i’m 14

27. have you ever gotten caught sneaking out or anything bad?

nope, i lead a pretty boring life (i’d actually sneak out quite often if my bedroom wasn’t on the second floor)

28. worst/funniest lie you’ve ever told?

i’ve told my dad that i love him before

29. describe your passion without mentioning it.

i’m currently at a crossroads with it and it’s pretty stressful for me rn but i’m committed to getting better and not crying daily over it

30. describe your best friend

i don’t actually think i have a solid enough relationship with anyone to have a best friend lol

31. give us one thing about you that no one knows

OH UHHHH i pop my acne?? that might be obvious if you look at my face tho

32. how do you feel right now?

pretty solid, i have a little bit of a headache and i’m a bit sad but i’m doing okay

33. what is your biggest fear?

failure, but that’s probably just bc i set so high expectations for myself lol

34. what’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

breakfast in america by supertramp

35. what is the best decision you’ve made in your life so far?

maybe quitting band and strings in 5th grade or quitting track

36. have you ever tried your hardest and then been disappointed in the end?

OH YEAH but we’re not gonna talk about that right now

37. something you fantasize about

i always dream of living in a tiny nyc apartment with a beautiful wife and working at some nondescript company and shopping in my free time

38. last time you cried and why

??? i actually don’t know. i nearly cried last night bc my dad was nearly yelling at me, we’re not gonna get into that though

39. what was the last thing that made you laugh?

i put a stupid snapchat filter on my face

40. do you really, truly miss someone right now?

yeah

41. who do you feel most comfortable talking about anything with?

my own self?? i have trust issues lol

42. the last time you felt broken?

maybe this morning just bc i had a weird dream and was processing it lol

43. are you starting to realize anything?

yeah

44. are you more dom or sub?

sub, but just in general, i haven’t ever had sex

45. i’ll only date you if _____

you’re a woman? i don’t have many standards lol

46. do you prefer to date people the same age as you, younger, or older?

okay this question is probably geared more towards adults but as a freshman, i’m fine with dating sophomores and juniors, and maybe 8th graders?? that’s a little iffy though

47. describe the person you’re in love with/have a crush on in great detail

ummm i’m not sure if it’s a crush anymore but she’s tall, skinny, had black hair that she dyes often but it never shows, she dresses similar to me, she’s a photographer, and i think she might be into me :/

48. do you have any kinks?

yes but i’ll never tell anybody even if they paid me money

49. first thing you notice in a person?

uhhh their outfit?

50. how can someone win your heart?

by loving me a lot and dealing with my weird personality

51. been rejected by a crush?

i’ve only asked a crush out once and that went pretty well so no

52. have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?

yes, who hasn’t?

53. would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

nope

54. is trust a big issue for you?

is the sky blue?

55. did you hang out with the person you like recently?

nope, we’ve been meaning to for a while though

56. is confidence cute?

sometimes, just don’t be weird to other people

57. what would you say if the person you like kissed another person?

i wouldn’t care LMAO

58. would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

probably not

59. does the person you have feelings for right now know you do?

maybe?? my interactions with her have been a blur lmao

60. ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

oh yeah

61. do you want to get married?

yes, but purely to flex the fact that i can get gay married

62. worst thing you’ve ever done?

idk probably self harmed

63. three things that turn you on

1. women

2. women

3. women

64. who do you hate?

nobody, really

65. favorite term of endearment?

sweetheart/love GET ME EVERY SINGLE TIME!!! if i ever write some romance y’all will see

66. who was your gay awakening?

idk if you count this as a gay awakening but once when i was like four i said to my dad “if i could marry anyone, i’d marry sarah” (one of my friends) (holy shit i just got kind of sad remembering her i liked her a lot and she had a cool family i need to see if she has an ig)

67. intimidating girls or kind girls?

both at the same time

68. what do you look for in a possible partner

women

69. do you tend to like more masculine, feminine, or androgynous girls?

tbh the only styles that are off the table for me are hyper masculine and hyper feminine, anyone else is great

70. are you good at flirting?

i don’t have the confidence to flirt lol

71. who was the first person you came out to?

my friends ellie and lilli, at the same time, on accident

72. do you have any friends who are wlw?

the question is do i have friends that aren’t wlw

73. is your crush wlw?

i believe so

74. last person to make you reconsider your sexuality?

this one junior boy who.... oh boy... he’s not hot at all but he’s so nice to literally everyone

75. write a short love poem to your crush/self?

i don’t feel like i’m attached enough to my crush to write a poem to them

76. do you fall in love easily?

i think so

77. is there something that happened in your past that you hate talking about?

yeah

78. are you good at hiding your feelings?

oh hell yeah, at least i think so

79. are you a forgiving person?

depends on what the person did

80. what is your type?

i don’t really have one? being taller than me is nice

81. fall asleep in her arms or tub her back until she falls asleep in yours?

both, with a preference for the first one

82. tall girls or short girls?

TOL

83. hugs or kisses

both, especially at the same time

84. twirl her around or get twirled?

both!!

85. tummy kisses or thigh kisses?

tummy!! thigh kisses are a bit too close to the pussy for my taste

86. hairline kisses or neck kisses?

hairline

87. play with her hair or stroke her tummy?

both!!!!!!!!!

88. making our or soft kisses

soft kisses

89. hugs around the neck or hugs around the waist?

both, it just depends on the situation

90. how confident are you in your sexuality?

probably 80%

91. when you like someone do you blush or get butterflies in your stomach?

idk if i ever blush but i have to REALLY like someone to get butterflies

92. have you ever likes a friend as more than a friend? did you tell them?

i have multiple times but i’ve only told someone once

93. how old were you when you realized you were into girls?

11 or 12

94. most embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of a cute girl?

idk, i tend to forget those things

95. do you have a favorite lesbian ship? is it canon?

i honestly don’t ship many lesbians lmao. can i count my own ocs? bc julia and emily are great

96. what is the most aggravating thing someone has said to you about your sexuality?

i don’t think i’ve actually had anything negative said about my sexuality directly to me, so i’m a bit lucky

97. when was the last time a girl made your heart flutter?

i honestly have no idea

98. what is love to you?

when we make each other happy

99. ask me anything

i mean my ask is always open if anyone wants to do this

thanks for listening to me be super gay and sad for a little bit

#:)

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peterpumpkinparker · 5 years

Text

Getting Better |2|~ River Lea

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000

Masterlist

Spotify PLaylist

Constructive Criticism always appreciated!

“Parker,”

his last period’s teacher stated plainly, barely loud enough to be heard over the yell of the rowdy teens.

Peter picked up his tired head, his brown eyes looking up tiredly. The teacher’s stony face was evident with sternness as she looked upon the paper in her hand.

Peter’s stomach erupted with butterflies as he jumped up quickly. Did he do it?

He raced to her desk, signing a paper with tingling hands and looked at the paper, a hint of pale blue on the borders of the crisp white edges. His heart raced and his hands rubbed the soft interior of his sweatshirt as she looked at the paper with a face of steel.

It felt like an hour (when it was only a few seconds), but the stern woman handed Peter his report card.

“Not bad Mr. Parker,” she stated with the smallest hint of a smile, “much better than last semester. Just make sure you keep it up.”

Peter looked at the small sheet, the angry butterflies in his stomach transforming into what felt like soft clouds.

“Um uh- yeah, of course,” Peter replied as he still stared at the paper in disbelief.

He walked back to his seat, thumbing each letter grade in each class. A smile played on his lips- mostly B’s, and a hand full of A’s. Much better than last year- towards the end of that year, when being his alter ego was getting a little out of hand, he was skipping classes and not doing work, which resulted in him almost failing. He had worked tirelessly to start paying attention in class again and getting his grades back up- and to his surprise, he actually did it. Now he just had to do it over and over again throughout the year. But he would manage. Nothing in the world was going to make him repeat what he did last year.

In his transfixed state of self pride over his report card, Peter wasn’t paying attention to the clock, which was unlike him. Peter was the kid who counted down the seconds before the bell rang, his jitters making him tap his foot furiously on the floor or rap his pencil on his desk.

The shrill period bell rang, declaring the school day was over. The kids stampeded out of the room as the teacher yelled out about the test next class, Peter being the strangler. He stuffed his pencils and paper in his semi-new backpack, then carefully folding his report card and placing it in the pocket of his jeans. Peter nodded a goodbye to his teacher, and shuffled his way into the packed hallway.

A new type of joy bubbled in his stomach- this was going to top the already good day off- it was time to be Spiderman.

Peter put in his earbuds quickly and jogged out of the school, weaving through the very familiar streets and sidewalks until he finally reached his favorite deli, the worn words “Delmar” clearly being seen from the streets. He walked in, a little chime going off as he opened the glass door. The smell of salty food filled the air as a loud Spanish conversation was being heard in the back room. Warm light filtered in from the street.

Peter was just pulling out his earbuds as someone shoved his shoulder, the person clearly in a hurry. Peter grunted from the contact, a “Sorry” already spilling out of his chapped lips as the person walked out the door. The person didn’t turn to reply, their rushing body walking out the door as the same chime sounded yet again. With one white earbud dangling from his hand, he turned to see only a glimpse of the stranger out of the window- a girl, the female’s hair being obscured by a red handkerchief that covered most of her forehead and neck, while black sunglasses obscured her eyes.

Peter looked at the now empty street, his senses making his fingers tingle and his abused shoulder thump with what felt like electricity- an unsettling feeling started traveling throughout his body.

“That was weird”, he thought with a confused look on his face.

He was still looking out the window when a familiar voice called his last name. He tentatively looked away from the window, turning to meet the expectant face of Mr. Delmar.

“Oh hey Mr. Delmar,” Peter replied hesitantly. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad, kid, not bad- been a pretty busy day but I aint complaining.” Mr. Delmar chuckled with an air of ease.

“Thats good….really good,” Peter said distracted, wondering why his Spidey senses reacted so harshly to when who-ever-that-was brushed his shoulder.

“You gonna order?” Mr. Delmar again broke his train of thought.

“Oh- yeah- yeah! Sorry, could I get my usual? With a pack of gummy worms, thanks,” Peter gave a tight smile, looking out the window yet again as Mr. Delmar told, in Spanish, the person next to him what to make for Peter’s order.

A few minutes later, Mr. Delmar laid his sandwich and pack of candy on the counter next to the cash register.

“By any chance- do you know who that was? The one with the-” Peter motioned to his head as he handed him a crumpled 10 dollar bill.

“The girl with the handkerchief? Nope, never saw her before, sorry kid,” he replied as he handed him back a couple ones with some change.

“Oh, its okay, thanks anyway,” Peter said as his stomach fell slightly. Something about his senses was rubbing him the wrong way- but he brushed it off, thinking that his high excited emotions were making them “malfunction” a little. He stuffed his change and food into his backpack, petted Mr. Delmar’s fat ginger cat, and quickly left the shop, his mind completely forgetting the girl and going to usual spot to transform into the friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

___

He loved being Spiderman.

At school, he was the kid who sat quietly in the back, did his work, talked only to his friends. He was ridiculed by Flash for being smart- but as Spiderman, none of that was there. He had no nervousness, no awkwardness- he was free to do what he wanted, when he wanted and help people who needed it.

He got to help all the little Peter Parker’s who didn’t have the luxury of turning into Spiderman deal with all the Flash’s of the world.

Spider Man did have its downsides though. Like instead of the high schoolers at his school ridiculing him for being a nerd, the “city” bullies were shooting gun ammo at him.

Every job had its down sides though- his was just more on the deadly side, but he could care less.

Today was actually kinda slow. Peter didnt have to deal with any wierdos selling alien tech in dark alleyways, no guys trying to shoot him down with their own homemade inventions. It was kinda nice to Peter. Dealing with those guys were sometimes fun because it let him test his power’s limits, but doing it constantly was stressful and draining.

It was now starting to get dark, the last rays of light beaming out on the horizon, as if the sky wasn’t ready to give up its pretty shades of pink, orange, and red at sunset. Peter’s day as Spiderman went very smoothly, to his surprise (because it never really did)- he stopped someone from jacking a car, helped an oldy cross multiple streets (it took forever), help a little girl find her lost puppy, and met a couple of little fans on the way.

After the whole fight with Vulture last year, many families were thanking Spiderman heavily for keeping the streets safe for their children, which was rubbing off on the little ones. A whole Spiderman Revolution had taken over the city, little kids now begging their parents to get them Spiderman t-shirts and costumes, and little kids now looking up at the sky constantly trying to catch a glimpse of the human Spider. He didn’t want to admit it, but he really liked it. It was nice getting some recognition- even if it was coming from citizens who were now just learning how to add.

He loved meeting the little kids- they always made his day with their outlandish questions and shocked, excited faces.

The wind was now whipping in Peter’s face as he did his last patrols around NYC, his webs detaching and reattaching to each building he was flying through on his pearly white webbing. This was his favorite part- just flying through NYC, above the heads of everyone, almost like he was in his own little world. This was when he could think at his best- really think things over and figure stuff out that was bothering him. But, the week had been exhausting, filled with tests and high point assignments he had to do well on, so all he really wanted to do was go home.

He stopped by his spot where he kept his clothes, the sunset finally giving up its bright colors and letting the cool of night take over. He quickly grabbed his backpack, the webbing he used to protect it from muggers now being dissolved into nothing.

He grabbed his backpack and began to walk home.

He entered his apartment, twisting the key against the old doorknob. The faint smell of burnt food wafted in the air, an all too familiar smell to Peter.

“Aunt May?” He asked tentatively as he wrapped his earbuds tightly around his phone screen.

“Peter?” Aunt May shot her head behind the counter of the kitchen sink, her long brown tresses Falling gracefully against her back.

She smiled, and walked over to give him a hug.

“So,” she asked as she released him, “anything at school? Anything new? Interesting?” She pressed him a little, as if softly coaxing a conversation.

Peter tightened his lip, shaking his head nonchalantly.

“Nothing?” She asked again, almost as she was trying to get the truth out of something.

Peter looked up in confusion. There wasn’t anything that big today. It was pretty normal-hanged out with Ned, helped MJ plan a trip for the Quiz Bowl team, took notes all day.

She sighed happily, trying to suppress a smile.

“So,” She busied herself with a pot of spaghetti on the stove, “I got in the mail a copy of your report card.”

“Oh,” Peter said in realization, looking up at his aunt as he waited for her to say more.

“I’m really proud of you Pete.” She smiles at him, placing a kiss on his forehead. “You really are maturing, getting your time management down, planning your future-you can’t lose this Peter. ‘Kay? You gotta keep truckin forward-your too smart to throw it all away.All A’s and B’s!” She spewed out, her pride radiating off her face.

Peter smiled again, a little bit of embarrassment evident in his face.

He shrugged.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” he smiled nonchalantly as he set his backpack down.

“Well, it is,” May stated, “which is why I tried to make a cake… which clearly,” she laughed, “Didn’t go very well at all.”

Peter chuckled, shaking his head happily. His aunt wasn’t the most amazing cook by any means, but she did try.

“So...I was thinking we could get some Thai? Sound good?”

Just as Aunt May finished, Peter felt his phone buzz in his back pocket.

He fumbled for it.

“Yeah, Yeah sounds great!” He smiled quickly to his Aunt, his heart picking up pace as he dashed to his room to answer the call.

“Hey-uh-Mr. Stark! What’s up?” Peter asked, awkwardly stuffing his free hand into his pocket.

“Nothing kid,” Stark replied nonchalantly, “was wondering what’s going on with you.”

Peter’s face shifted to surprise. Stark never called unless it was important-and most of the time if it was really important, Stark would visit him with warning. And never just to see “what’s going on” in his life.

“Uhm..” Peter mumbled, “just was gonna go out to eat with my Aunt.”

Peter looked out his door, hoping Stark would finish a little quickly so he wouldn’t leave his aunt waiting.

“Great great,” Stark sweeped away Peter’s sentence. “Listen kid-I called you to tell you something- not a mission or anything-just an event.”

Peter’s heart fell a little. He was hoping he would be doing another team up mission with Stark-those were always so awesome.

“in a couple weeks I’m gonna have something special going on, ya know, the whole Stark wedding and all...and I was actually going to invite you to it. If your up for it.”

Stark continued to talk, but Peter was so surprised and elated he started tuning it out. He actually got invited to something important to Stark. He always looked up to him, so this felt like an achievement of some sort.

“I’m-uh-Yeah sure! I’ll be there,” Peter accepted politely, his body turning away from his door.

“Great kid, Pepper’ll be happy,” Stark sighed, “but I’m sorry to break it to you, but a theres catch to this whole wedding thing.” Stark threw in, catching Peter off guard.

“Is it bad?” Peter asked tentatively, hoping it wasn’t crazy.

“Well, depends…,” Stark drawled out.

“You need to get a date.”

“Wait-What?!?” Peter yelped.

Not another date Peter thought. The last time he had to ask someone out, it wasn’t-well-amazing. He had taken his crush to Homecoming, but it turned out that her father was a super villain and tried to kill him. And he had to ditch his date, so that kind of ruined any type of relationship after that.

“Your gonna have to figure it out kid.” Stark instructed, cutting against Peter stuttering.

“Wait-did-why do I-“

“I gotta go kid!” Stark ended, “I’ll have Happy send you an invitation and all that, but remember-Get. A Date.”

“Bye kid,”

Peter heard a click from the other end. He pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at his screen. He breathed out, turning his tired body away from his phone and suppressing the want to roll his eyes.

And with that, Peter’s night got instantly more stressful and a little annoying.

Hope you guys enjoyed! More parts will be up soon, but thank you for reading!

Taggings:

@petersshirts @just4muggles @starksparker @starksmile @bisexualparkers @spiderboytotherescue @hollandroos

(I seriously cant think of tags right now ACK)

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