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dancingthesambaa · 3 years

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The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 13

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 13: The Apocalypse (But with More Bulls)

A group of children huddled together as they tried to escape the robotic drones that surrounded them in the ice cream shop. The streets were no longer safe as they had been filled with roaming Bull drones and they ripped and tore no matter what or who stood in their way. They hoped that they would be able to wait it out until help arrived, but they didn’t count on the drones coming into the building and finding them.

“AHHHHH!” They all screamed as the bulls began to leap at them.

SMASH! BASH! CRASH!

Their eyes widened as they saw the machines falling to the ground in bits and pieces until there was nothing left except for an ominous violet figure before them.

“S-s-stay away!” One of the older children nervously warned as she stood in front of them with her arms stretched out.

“Dude, he-she-they just saved our butts,” another child put a hand on her shoulder, “I think they are one of the good guys.”

“We don’t know that!” She argued.

“I mean, they are standing right there and haven’t attacked us yet sooo,” a younger girl pointed out. “Point in the good guy direction.”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Wait, I know him!” They all snapped their heads to the youngest in their group as he ran up to the figure.

“Bao!”

“Wait!”

“Are you crazy?!”

“MAC MAC!” He grinned as he threw his body to him, “I am so happy you are here!”

The monkey said nothing as he caught the child and gently patted the child's head.

“Sooo, Imma go out on a limb here and say he's good,” said the girl with the prosthetic arm. She happily smirked at their groans.

“Oh yeah, he is my sister's former teacher, though I don’t think I've ever seen you like this,” he pondered.

“Clone,” the demon uttered.

“Clone?”

“Follow me,” he instead said as he walked to the door, “I’ll take you where it’s safe.”

“Really?”

“Awesome!”

“That’s a relief.”

“Can I bring some ice cream?”

The children all chatter with a bit more pep in their step as they trudge through the war torn streets and fallen buildings until they laid eyes on a set of buildings that looked relatively untouched by the madness surrounding them with a pristine white hospital building in the middle of it all. Some people were littered around the street, but when they stepped into the hospital it was a lot more hectic as not only doctors and nurses were bustling around trying to tend to as many wounded as they could. But there were also regular people trying to give a helping hand as they either did basic first aid to those who needed it or helped the staff collect the supplies they needed.

“Whoa,” they all collectively gape at the semi organized chaos inside.

“Bao!” The child looks to see Bohai's relieved expression, “thank the gods you and your friends are okay.”

“Mac Mac saved us,” he wiggled out of the monkey arms to get a hug from the jellyfish demon then he looked around the room. “Where’s Yanyu? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she was working when this all went down, so she is currently in the back taking care of a bunch of patients. Are you all alright?”

“Just scrapes and bruises,” one of the girls says as she covers the mouth of the one armed girl. “You are not making another missing arm joke, you hear me.”

“Fine,” she huffed then she grinned mischievously as she looked at Bohai, “so do you guys need a hand, I can only spare you one though.”

“For the love of-!”

“Stoppp!”

“Nooo!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she laughed at the agony.

“If you want to bring the staff some snacks and drinks, and yes I’m including everyone in this list, that would be awesome. They really need to pick me up right now,” he showed them to a small area where copious amounts of food and drinks were laid out. “People have been bribing them since this all started, but no one really had a break yet.”

“You can count on us!” The oldest girl saluted as she and the rest gathered snacks in their arms and began to spread out all through the hospital, except for Bao who was still holding onto the jellyfish. Even the clone Macaque had left had begun to venture through the hospital and began to help out a few patients.

“…is everyone else alright,” he whispered out in hesitation.

Bohai kneeled down and smiled, “I think they will be just fine, your brothers and sisters are smart after all. I know they will pull through.”

“Right,” he nodded and shared a grin.

“And we have people and demons looking for anyone who needs help,” that included his friends on the list as Daiyu took to the skies and over the seas, Minsheng and Ahmed took to the streets looking for stragglers, and Macaque leaping from building to building checking to see if there are any lingering people trapped inside. “So don’t worry about them, instead how about we focus on feeding some hungry people. I know how cranky they can get when their bellies are empty.”

“Like Yan Yan when she forgot to eat because she had a 30 hour shift and she tied us all up when we mentioned her leftover food in the fridge.”

“Exactly.”

“How does this keep happening to us!” Mei yelled out as she and MK were hanging onto the sword for dear life as they dangled above the pit of despair.

“I don’t know!” MK yelled too as he clung onto Mei’s legs. “How do we get down?!”

“I don’t know!” She adjusted her grip on the sword, “we are currently on our way to fight the Demon Bull King, one of Monkey King greatest enemies, with less than 2 weapons on us if you don’t count my daggers and your brass knuckles, the rest of our team still keeping the ones up top busy and-wait!” Mei’s eyes brighten, “not everyone!”

“Huh? Who?!”

“Macaque!” Mei could feel a breath of relief come through her, “he’s still in the city dealing with the other clones, but I think this warrants a higher attention.” If anyone, other than the Monkey King and MK, can stop the Bull King, it’s him.

“I don’t know,” MK flinched as Mei's head creaked to him and her eyes began to twitch.

“Oh no, we are so not doing this, I am calling fuzzbutt whether you like it or not,” she stated and she sucked in a deep breath.

“Wait,” he quickly climbed her and put his hands over her mouth, “we don’t need to call him, I can handle this.”

“Do you not see where we are?” She would emphasize their precarious situation, but she is currently holding onto the only thing that is stopping the both of them from becoming mush on the floor. “What is your problem with calling him for help?”

“Nothing,” he too quickly defended himself.

“Then you should have no problem if I call him.”

“You're not calling for him.”

I’m calling him.”

“No, you're not,” he argued.

“I am!”

“You're not!”

“Am!”

“Not!”

“Am!”

“Not!”

“Am!”

“Not!”

“Am! Wait-dammit!” He cursed as he got tricked.

“Ha! I win, and I'm calling him!” Mei grinned.

MK was about to refute her when he saw a terrifying sight above them. “Noooo.”

She raised her eyebrow as she turned to see what he was looking at and she almost let go of her sword as she saw hundreds of deactivated Bull drones stationary all over the walls and mere meters from where they were at.

“Shit.”

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Mei’s phone buzzed quite loudly.

“Shit.”

Blue eyes lit up one by one as the drones quickly woke up at the sound as their heads all snapped towards the two lone humans.

“SHIT!”

“GHA!” Red son grunted out as he was flung back. He gritted his teeth as the sharp rocks pierced him, but he shakily stood up as he stood behind his mother, who was also silently huffing for air as the two of them faced down the enraged Bull King. He knew something was wrong, there had to be something, otherwise, his father wouldn't so carelessly nor even attempt to accuse the two of them of traitorous intent based on the barest of threads.

‘There has to be,’ he desperately thought as he silently looked at his hands and gripped it as it began to heat up. ‘But there is no defining evidence…I should have never taken that key.’ He regretted silently as they were once more prepared to go toe to toe with the Bull King when out of nowhere.

“AHHHHHHHH!” BOOM

MK lands face first into the ground.

“Noodle boy?!” What is he doing here?!

“Little thief,” Bull King hissed out as he then gripped his head and uttered. “Sun Wukong.”

Both he and his mother were startled by that admission as they couldn’t help but share a glance, as they passively watched Bull King begin his assault on the Monkey King successor.

Red son gritted his teeth as he watched his friend get pulverized by his father. ‘I have to do something, but what can I do? Something nefarious is afoot with father and yet I am standing here like a dame instead of helping MK. MK? No! No, I mean I have to help father snap out of whatever has come over him instead of beating upon my fri-noodle boy! Hurting noodle boy…he is hurting noodle boy…MK.” He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw the horrifying sight of the rage filled demon looming over MK with his fists raised high in the air.

“NO!” He burst into flames and charged forward, but was stopped by his mother as she swiftly sent out two airstrikes to the Bull King and used her fan to sweep the boy away from his demise and plopped him down next to the both of them.

“Wha-” he groggily got up as he looked up in surprise at Princess Iron Fan.

“It’s the canister, they have driven him mad with power,” she said as she hatefully eyed the glowing blue canisters upon the Bull King back.

“Well that’s a problem,” he blinked as he saw the skeletal remains floating about in the sludge of energy.

Then in a feral-like fury where only instinct took full control of body rather than the mind, the Bull King had snarled at them and began to charge on all fours.

“All right,” he used his staff to pick himself up, “time for round 2.”

“No, we fight together,” the prince said in determination as he readied his stance and was about to charge once more when another voice echoed.

“Seems like you guys can use a hand,” their eyes widen as they see the Bull King sink into the ground as a massive transparent violent hand of energy crushed him.

“Dad/Macaque!” MK and Red son cried out in relief as Iron Fan said it a bit more calmly as MK continued. “How are you here?!”

“Jade rang for me,” the voice echoed out as it continued its struggle against pinning the demon down. “Said some interesting things too.”

Mei's hands twitched anxiously as she waited for any sign of MK. She had just finished cleaning up the rest of the drones in the caves, but she thought it best if she kept here in case there would be any bot or people trying to sneak in to aid the nefarious family. Yet, that didn’t stop her from wanting to go down there and help her friend, no matter how stupid or dangerous that may be.

“You know what, screw this. Sorry MK, but we need all the help,” she gave a quick apology as she sucked in a deep breath and yelled, “MACAQUUEEE!”

Her voice vibrated through the walls.

She knew that she could have easily called him on her phone and he would have come just as quick, but that didn’t really matter in the long run as he saw a dark figure leap his way over to her. “Took you long enough,” she said with a small grin as he phased into the mech.

“Sorry, the city is in chaos as you know,” Macaque sarcastically said as he eyed her state to see any injuries.

“I’m fine,” she quickly said, “but MK is down there fighting DBK!”

“What!” His golden eyes that were tinted with violet eyes snapped onto her light green ones as all six ears twitched.

“Yeah, he didn’t want me to tell you, but I think we have bigger things to worry about.”

“Don’t want me-no,” he stopped himself short before he could go deeper. “Putting that to the side, for now, bigger problems first. Will you be fine if I go to your idiot brother.”

“I am currently inside of a monkey mech,” she deadpanned, “I am more than fine.”

He shot her a smirk and ruffled her already messed up hair and sunk back into the shadows and began to move deeper into the pit.

“Ahaha, about that,” MK nervously scratched the back of his neck.

“We are talking about this later.”

“Yeah that’s fair,” he slumped down.

Then a figure leaped out from the shadows of the Bull King as the Bull King rapidly gained back its bearing and destroyed the hand pinning it down.

Macaque whistled, “Well, I thought that it would at least keep you down a little longer than that, but apparently I’m wrong.”

“It’s the canister!” MK yelled, “they’re amplifying his powers.”

“You don’t say,” he muttered as he eyed the glowing blue power of energy then stared at it a bit harder as something felt off about it. “Somethings not right.”

Princess Iron Fan raised an eyebrow at his comment but quickly pushed it aside as she readied herself. “We can save questions for later, right now we have to get those off of my husband.”

“Right,” he nodded and his eyes went back to the Bull King who was getting up, “alright anyone got a plan.”

“Both Red son and I shall distract him, while the two of you get that monstrosity off him,” she said.

“Gotcha, you ready comet,” he summoned a few of his clones.

MK hesitated before nodding as he put his staff forward, “born ready.”

Then, without warning, the rest of the royal family burst into action as the two attacked the Bull King in a rapid fire as he was suddenly surrounded by a huge fire tornado.

“YOU SHALL FALL TOGETHER!” He roared out as he dispersed it with a loud crackle of energy.

Both of them, who was very much still injured and winded from their already long fight, were pushed back as they fell into the rubble. They slowly tried to get up as the glowing King stomped his way towards them.

His form seemed to almost ripple in anticipation as he locked his glowing blue eyes on their downed forms. No hesitation in his steps as the voices in his head urged him to finally end the traitors.

End the traitors

Destroy them for their treachery

Build a kingdom worth your name

Let their bones turn into ashes

Let their blood soak into the ground

Let their flesh set a reminder

You are the true king

“Yesss,” he hissed out his agreement as he raised his arms to finish them (ignoring the heavy invisible restraint against his arm and a small voice yelling at him to stop.) He would end this now.

Then his head was hit by a rock.

He snarled as he turned to look at MK, who was still in a throwing position.

“Hey, guess I’m a better pitcher than a hitter!” He joked, but then yelped as he felt himself get caught in the Bull’s hand.

“I’ve had about enough of you, one would think that you would learn more of the little sage tricks,” he snarled.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he shrugged.

Bull King snarled as he proceeded to squeeze him until he was nothing but bones and blood.

“Wait! Wait!” He cried out until he poofed out in a golden light.

“What!” He shouted as he looked at the falling hair, “a clone!?”

“Yup!” He looked to see the real MK in mid-air, “and I didn’t learn little tricks from only the Monkey King,” he grinned as he summoned a hoard full of clones.

He snarled and was about to jump up to meet them when he felt his hooves and hands being grabbed, he looked down to see many Macaque clones holding him down, while some were grabbing his hands.

“Get ready for a nice wake up call,” the real Macaque smirked as he kept into the shadow to keep a steady supply of energy to his clones.

“HERE COMES MONKIE KID!” MK cried out as he and his clones proceeded to all out attack the Bull King until the canister was finally knocked off his back and with one final burst of energy, it had dispersed.

Freedom

Gather back

Become one again

Vessel

Freedom

The black furred monkey felt a shiver running up his spine as he heard the voices ringing in his ears. He looked around and sure enough, it seemed that he was the only one who heard the ominous whispers.

‘That wasn’t a normal power madness,’ he concluded as he realized what really happened. Before he could tell the rest he felt a gust of wind come about as the three demons proceeded to leave.

“Are you serious?!” MK panicked as the rocks began to fall down all around them. “You really just left us here!”

“Honestly not surprised,” he shrugged his shoulder and grabbed his kid by the back of his shirt, “now come on and let’s get out of here before the rocks do us in.”

“How?!”

BOOM!

They looked to see a giant Monkey Mech burst in as Mei smiled at them.

“Everything went well! Need a lift?”

“Mei!”

“Nice timing Mushu.”

“That was some fight huh,” Sandy said as he ate his noodles on top of the giant mech with everyone else. “But we managed to stop DBK.”

“Nice job defeating him MK,” Tang grinned as he slurped up the remains of his bowl.

“I don’t know, I don’t think I really defeated him,” he muttered as he fiddled with his chopsticks. “There was something weird, that power he had just made him…different.”

“But we won right,” she looked on the bright side.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” the historian appeared over Pigsy's shoulder and was casually grabbing some noodles from his bowl. “You don’t need this right sugar.”

“Get your hands off my food!” He pulled away from his lover as everyone around them laughed.

Amid their exuberant energy, they haven’t quite realized that the area was almost desolate with anyone else, including animals and bugs that usually roam around here. The only animal anywhere near them was a bird that perched right on top of one of the outer rocks in the clearing. It seemed to be in a tranquil state as it took in the scene, so it spread its wings to fly off when a voice stopped him.

“You know you could have jumped down and talked to them instead of standing there like an actual creeper,” said Macaque as he emerged from the shadow.

The bird gave him wide eyes as he instinctively transformed back into his original form, “Didn’t really think I should just go in there when all is said and done,” Wukong said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wow, it must have taken a long time to think about that with the way you were sitting there,” he rolled his eyes and leaned against the rock.

“I’m not that bad,” he muttered and settled back down on top of the rock.

“Could have fooled me with the number of times you have a stupid idea.”

“Oh like you haven’t had one.”

“I have my own fair share, but it doesn’t even pale in comparison to yours, should I bring up the Kinnara incident,” he smirked.

“How was I supposed to know that she would kick our ass for interrupting her song,” he grumbled.

“Your ass,” he emphasized, “I had the common sense to stay behind, one would think not to mess with a being whose own gaze can pierce through you.”

“Didn’t seem that way to me.”

“Well, you didn’t have something called survival instinct.”

“To be fair I had plenty of instincts, but I just chose to ignore it back then and thought she was a harmless target,” he then shuddered, “so many regrets that day.”

“Pfft,” he chuckled lowly and Wukong couldn’t help but join in. He knew he was very stupid back then and so much more impulsive and looking back on it now, it is rather funny. But the laughter couldn’t last forever as it then died down as the atmosphere turned into an awkward silence.

Both monkeys knew they were avoiding the bigger problem at hand, but neither wanted to bring that up. At the same time though, they couldn’t ignore it forever, and eventually one of them will have to make the first step soon.

So Macaque opened his mouth and said, “Well if you ever feel like leaving your mountain other than stalking my kid, the forest is always open.”

“Really,” his eyes widened.

‘You really want to see me again.’ The silent question was asked.

“It is a public area, though you might want to bring starlight along with you if you want to see the not so public sights,” he said with a shrug.

‘Yes, I do.’ Was the silent answer.

“I’ll definitely do that! Maybe sometime next week?” He couldn’t stop his smile from growing widely.

“That work, well I got to get back. Too much damn medicine to make and that’s with my clone's help,” he grumbled as he pushed back off the rock.

“See you then,” he said with a short wave.

Macaque flippantly waved his hand as he sank back into the shadows.

Wukong grinned as he watched his friend's aura travel through his shadows until he had reached the city limits. It was only then he turned back into his bird form and took off towards his mountain once more.

“So the hospital is really that backed up again,” MK asked as he sat on top of the rooftop with his dad the next day.

“Like a car side swiping a train,” he groaned as he laid down. “I just got done helping not even an hour ago.”

“I bet Yanyu had to drag you out,” the monkey successor snorted.

“Nah, she was snoring in the back room, she passed the fuck out a few hours back after a successful surgery,” he grinned in pride. His student has really come far since he first started teaching her and to think that she had doubts about her ability, now look at her working alongside the attending physicians. He can still remember her running towards him and lunged at him with utter joy on her face when she told him that she passed her qualifying exam. He is really proud of her.

“She deserves it,” he nodded.

“She does,” the monkey hummed as he got up, “but I think it’s time we talk about that little thing back in the cave.”

MK nervously straightened up as he scratched the back of his neck, “hahaha what do you mean?”

“You are still a terrible liar comet, why didn’t you call me,” he looked him in the eyes.

“I was going to,” he mumbled, not sounding at all convincing.

“Really,” his voice dripped with sarcasm.

MK tried to keep a straight face, but it didn’t last long as he groaned and put his face in his hands, “Alright fine I wasn’t! But I could have handled it! You're always there and I know I can count on you, but something I need to do by myself. I’m not a child anymore.”

“And I know your not, and I have tried my best to not hound on you,” he said then he let out a sigh, “believe me when I say that I know I worry a little too much-”

“A little?!” Mei shouted as she lifted the hatch up.

“Mei! How long have you been there?!” The twenty years old shouted.

“Hehehe, long enough,” she nervously giggled as she slowly climbed out and sat next to her brother. She had forgotten she was eavesdropping on them and just had to blurt out. “Kinda forgot, but I still stand by my point.”

“I know, I mean ever since you left I've been trying to hold back from outright following you around,” he reluctantly said, not even blinking an eye at Mei’s sudden appearance.

“And I'm glad you haven’t, Mei already has a tracker on all of us,” he shot a glare at his sister.

“Wait really?”

“Yes siree!”

“…I feel like I should talk to you more about that kind of stalking,” he eyed her as he was forcibly reminded of another monkey and his stalking.

“Have you seen the number of times we unintentionally get into weird situations, let alone the times we actively seek it out?” She deadpanned.

“And I take that back,” he retracted his words. “But regardless, I trust you Starbright. I trust you even when I want to scoop both you and your sister up and hide you away from the world. But when shit like this happens, I get fucking worried cause that could have ended in a complete disaster, you understand?”

“But it didn’t!” He protested.

“But it could have,” he shot back and leaned in close, “and I’m so fucking grateful that it didn’t. Cause what if something did happen and the both of you wound up biting more than you could chew, fuck the two of you could have died and I wouldn’t have known shit until I saw your corpse.”

“I-I,” MK didn’t know what to say as he lowered his head alongside Mei. Both teenagers were at a loss of words at the reality of the situation, especially MK.

Macaque took a deep breath and let out a huge sigh as he brought both children close to him, “Look, I trust you to take care of yourself, but if you think you land in a situation you can’t handle, please call me. I know I sound repetitive at this point, but I stand by my fucking word that I will come, okay.”

Both of them looked up to meet their dad’s concerned eyes and nodded.

“You got it,” Mei smiled and leaned further into his fur.

“Okay,” MK sniffed as cuddled closer to him.

The black furred monkey smiled down at both of them and gave them each a kiss to the forehead and silently watched the bustling city below just a little longer.

“I’m fine my queen,” Bull King grumbled as he walked through the cave. “I sustained only minor injuries.”

“I know you have, but you were overtaken by a sinister energy source that managed to drive you mad with power that put your meridians past the point of exhaustion,” she deadpanned. “You need to rest.”

“It still doesn’t make sense how such a source can overtake father's mind,” Red son muttered as he looked through an ancient book. “I have heard tales of items having power from their previous owners and using it to their own design, but never of just raw aura. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“You're not wrong spitfire,” they turned to see Macaque phasing out from the shadow of a rock.

“Six Eared Macaque,” Bull King grumbled before he suddenly caught a bag that was thrown at him. “What is-”

“Spiritual roots from the Kunlun Peak, brew those in tea and they should help your median lines get back into condition before the month is up,” the monkey said as he walked closer.

“This is most useful, I will transfer the money-” Macaque cut her off.

“Consider this repaying the favor of saving my son Raki.”

“If I had not attempted to harm your child in my plight of madness there would be no need for this,” DBK gritted out and slightly lowered his head. He knew that the slight of offense of their agreement was on him and his mad conquest of power, if the Six Eared Macaque declared retribution for his actions then he would have to honor his word. What the outcome will be for both sides remains a mystery.

“Yeahhh what you did was stupid, but that’s actually what I came down to talk to you guys about,” he patted Red Son on the shoulder, “your kid is right about the power madness, what happen to you was not that.”

“What?” Both father and son blurted out.

“Explain,” the mother's eyes narrowed as her hand twitched.

“You were being possessed by one bitch of a spirit, what kind, I don’t know, but I do know the signs of possession when I see one.”

“How?”

“Was the different colored glowing eyes not obvious enough? His spouts of madness? Him going completely feral? Whatever you guys found is powerful, powerful enough to influence you BK.”

There was a silence as the surreal announcement enveloped them then someone growled as two craters appeared on the walls.

“Who dares think they have the audacity,” Queen Iron Fan hissed out as the wind began to swirl around her.

“I swear when I find the leech who manipulates me, I will tear their body limb from limb, bone to bone, blood into ashes and let their soul never find rest,” the King growled out in utter hatred.

Prince Red Son said nothing as sparks of fire flickered on and off around different corners of the cave and his hand trembled with fury.

The Royal Bull family does not take lightly to insults upon their names. They are known for sparking dread within people, making those fall to their feet, being a symbol of fear and power spread all through the nation and someone had the insolence to try to not only take control of their King but even fucking dare try to rip the family apart and kill them under his own hands?

They shall feel their wrath, this they declare.

“Well I have my message out of the way,” he wasn’t even fazed by their spirited anger, “Red a word.”

This snapped the prince out of his fury as he walked over to his pseudo uncle, “How may I help you?”

“Not me per say, but certainly my two kids who are worried the hell for you.”

“Their okay right,” he quickly questioned as he knew MK was alright but hadn't seen signs of Mei.

“A little bruised up, but they had worse, but my advice to you kiddo is talk to them. They have been worried out of their minds and I’m sure whatever you might have done they’ll forgive you.” He knew that Red Son wasn’t talking to them out of some sort of self doubt and guilt, but he wasn’t about to pry into what he did.

“You really think so?”

“You’ll have to ask them yourself.”

“…I will,” he nodded, “Thank you.”

“No problem, but let me tell you that since I have known you for a long time and I know you wouldn’t do abuse trust so lightly, especially from people you give a shit about, I’ll let you off with a light warning,” his eyes began to faintly glow a light violet color, “I may not know what you did, but don’t try to maliciously deceive them again, okay.”

“Yes sir,” he immediately said.

“Good boy,” he smirked and ruffled his hair, “now stop fucking around and send them a text before I duct tape their mouths myself.”

“They’ve been that bad?”

“I almost sicced Daiyu on the both just so they could do something else other than complain,” he deadpanned.

“…full permission to do the same if they get past that point,” he smirked.

“You don’t need to even ask me.”

“Yes!” He excitedly pumped his fist.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #macaque #six eared macaque #mk #PlumTeaAU

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angryschnauzer · 4 years

Text

Superior Specimen - Chapter 8

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy, Talk of car crashes, heroics, rough sex, use of safe words, Anal play,

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 8

On the tube an old woman had offered you a tissue and had whispered quietly;

“He’s not worth crying over my dear”

You swallowed and smiled weakly at her;

“Unfortunately he was… he was just an idiot too”

“They all are my dear, they all are”

She got off at the next stop, giving you a pat on the arm before leaving the carriage, leaving you ride the rest of the way to Fulham Broadway on your own.

You were on autopilot when you arrived, walking through the small shopping mall that had grown around the tube station, grabbing a pair of overpriced knock-off designer sunglasses from the concession stand to hide your puffy and red eyes, swollen from crying. As you stood in the crowd at the lights to cross the road, a stream of Ambulances and Police cars screamed past, lights and sirens blasting, but it was London, every day there was a crisis or accident and you were used to them.

The walk to your flat was quick, just a few roads from the tube, and you were thankful you’d brought your small clutch bag from the hotel room that had your phone, wallet, and keys in. Once inside you pulled off your clothing, everything Henry had bought for you, tossing it into a heap on the floor before you climbed into bed and curled into a ball, sobbing into the pillow.

You woke to the sound of a metal on plastic crunch from the street outside, familiar with the sound and you knew it was vehicle vs wheelie bin, an all too familiar occurrence when collection day was on a Friday and people went out that night, so the street would still be littered with bins the following day. Staring up at the ceiling you heard the doorbell ring, glaring at the ceiling but refusing to move. You didn’t care if your bin that had ended up a casualty of a car not looking where it was going, so when the bell finally timed out you closed your eyes… only to be rudely disturbed by a loud knocking on the door a minute later, a muffled voice from the other side;

“Princess… it’s me; Henry… please, just tell me you’re ok… I’ve got to know you’re ok…”

You could feel your emotions rising within you; a heat, an anger, and as the knocking continued you grabbed the dressing gown hanging on the back of the door and was still tying it as you pulled the door open, but surprised to see state of Henry, his clothes a mess and his face blotchy;

“What the hell happe…”

Your words were cut short as he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight;

“You’re alright… my god, you’re ok…”

“Henry, what is going on?”

He let you go and started pacing;

“I was an ass, I didn’t follow you, I was stupid… I tried calling you but you never picked up…”

“I had it on silent… I didn’t want anyone to disturb our date”

“And then the accident, I’d gone back to the hotel, I knew it was the closest tube to where we were...”

“Accident?”

“There was an accident, on the road outside the London Bridge Tube, a bus and council truck collided and ran into the queue… I stayed and helped the emergency services; I was trying to find you… but you weren’t there…”

Your hand was over your mouth, tears pooling on your lashes as you looked at him, and realised he cared so much for you that he had literally pulled people out of the wreckage of an major accident because he thought he had lost you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you cradled the back of his head as he slumped to the floor, sobbing into your shoulder and the softness of your dressing gown.

Finally he pulled his head back, a weak smile on his face as he looked into your eyes, and you saw a different Henry, one that was fragile, one that needed you as much as you needed him.

“C’mon, let me put the kettle on”

Sipping on sweet tea as you both sat at the kitchen table, dunking Digestive biscuits in the deep brown steaming mugs, you looked him up and down;

“You are a mess”

He glanced down and realised his shirt and jeans were covered in dirt, grime, and in some places blood;

“You’re right” he paused before looking back to you; “Look, I’ve got a suggestion… pack a bag. Comfy clothing, overnight things. We’ll head back to the hotel and collect our things, then head back to my place. I’ll cook dinner and we can talk… ask all those things we’ve both wanted to ask since we met, yeah?”

He looked at you like a hopeful puppy, his deep blue eyes watery where he feared you would say no, but as you nodded he let out the breath he had been holding, and a genuine smile spread over his face.

Henry opened the door to his place and stepped aside, letting you enter and look around as he shut the door, resting all the bags from the hotel room on the shiny white tiles that covered the floor.

“This is your place?”

“It’s home for the next few months” he shut the door and wrapped his arm around you; “I gave up on having a permanent place about five years ago. I would always come back to a dust filled nightmare and a fridge that was a biohazard. I keep a PO box for any mail and a storage unit for my things that I don’t need when I’m away”

You looked at him;

“It sounds very… lonely…”

He paused, considering your words;

“I’ve never thought about it that way… but, you’re right” he wrapped his arms around you, his gaze intense; “I’m sorry I over-reacted earlier… about your flatmate. I was just… I don’t know, so focused I guess on this amazing thing we have now, and what we were talking about last night… how those I fall for push me away when I have to leave… I could only think ‘this guy will be around when I’m not’...”

You reached up and cupped his cheek with your hand, realising in that moment that for all the bravado and confidence, beneath that Henry was just like you, like anyone else, and feared losing those he cared for;

“I would wait… I will wait…”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, and the pair of you just held each other for the longest time, before he pulled away;

“What kind of host am I? I haven’t even offered you a cup of tea!”

Laughing you followed him into the kitchen, looking around at the sparse worktops, all the cupboards pristine white. Even the appliances were just plain brushed aluminium. As the kettle bubbled away you pushed yourself up onto the central island, sitting on the marble countertop as you watched Henry move around the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the carton of milk, sniffing it and cringing;

“Okay, tea may be off the menu… the milk’s off”

Pausing he opened the cupboard, shoulders slumping when he saw the empty tea caddy;

“No tea either…”

Leaning back you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened google maps;

“This is Warwick Square, right?”

“Yes”

You pinched the screen and zoomed out, jumping off the counter;

“C’mon, there’s a Tesco Express just around the corner”

Walking hand in hand around Pimlico with Henry, it dawned on you that you had never visited this part of London, the sights and sounds much like most of the city, but where each little borough had its own character. Once you reached the supermarket he grabbed a basket and picked up the few things he needed, before his hand hovered over the selection of biscuits;

“Ok, make or break time to find out if we are truly compatible” his voice had an element of mischief in it as he spoke; “Milk or Dark Chocolate Digestives?”

You looked at the selection before you set your hand down on the bright blue packet;

“Trick question, we both know the true answer is Milk Chocolate Hobnobs”

He laughed as you dropped the packet into the basket, wrapping his massive arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest;

“I knew there was a reason I loved you” he turned to the row of refrigerators on the other side of the isle, unaware of what he’d said, and how your eyes were a little wider as you took in his admission; “Shall I make some burnt offerings for you tonight? I have somewhat limited culinary skills, but I can rustle up something with meat or fish…”

Nodding you were still a little stunned, finally finding your voice;

“Yeah, I’ll eat anything”

He cocked an eyebrow and you playfully batted at his arm;

“Oh shut up” you laughed

Dinner had been nice. An easy dish of roasted pork, Henry had thrown in some potatoes and had let them roast with alongside, and a simple salad. The one thing he did have readily stocked in his place was alcohol, and between the two of you an entire bottle of vintage Pinot Noir had been sunk over the course of dinner, and as you watched him stack the dishwasher you spread out on the massive white sofa that dominated the open plan space. You couldn’t help yourself but you popped the button of your jeans, letting out a sigh of relief.

Checking your phone you reopened your roommates’ email and read it again, before hitting reply. You knew deep down you wouldn’t be able to get a mortgage, but asked that you be kept in the loop and would start looking for another place come Monday. Having hit send you saw another email, this time from your Manager, requesting that you attend a review on Monday morning;

“Huh, so much for giving me a week off” you muttered to yourself, before looking up and seeing Henry approaching you, two full glasses of red wind in hand.

“Everything ok?”

Taking the glass you smiled;

“Yeah, work want me to go in for a review on Monday morning”

“Did they say what it was about?”

“No, but I’m guessing ‘playing heroics and injuring yourself on the job isn’t in your job description, please don’t sue us’ is probably on the agenda”

Settling next to you he rested a hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze;

“I’m sure you’re right” he sipped at the wine before setting it on the small table at the side; “Hey I meant to ask, does your roommate have an Instagram account or Facebook page?”

“Yeah, I’ll pull it up. Its where he’s trying to do more serious photography”

He nodded and tapped at his phone for a few seconds before setting it aside, raising his glass again and clinking it against yours;

“Cheers”

By the time the last dregs of the 2nd bottle of wine were drained from your glasses you were drunk as skunks and just an amorous. You were draped over Henry’s lap, his hand was attempting to sneak under your t-shirt as you curled one hand in his hair, wrapping a deep brown strand around your finger as you kissed him lazily. When his hand finally found your breast you moaned at his touch, his lips brushing against your neck;

“I think we should take this to the bedroom”

You giggled;

“With the amount of wine we’ve had? Can you still get it up?”

He pushed his crotch up against you;

“Princess I’m already ‘up’, now I need to be in, and I don’t care which hole, I just want to feel you around my dick as we have some nasty drunk sex”

You attempted to slide off his lap and land on your feet, but what really happened was you tumbled into a heap on the soft white rug, one leg still on the sofa as the other hit the coffee table and your ass in the air;

“Help!” you cried out, giggling as Henry stood and swayed, before wrapping his arm around your waist and carrying you under his arm to the bedroom like a misbehaving poodle in Harrods.

He dropped you onto the bed and in the light from the lounge you watched as he yanked his t-shirt over his head, and started to unfasten his jeans, letting out a sigh of relief when the massive bulge in his boxers was allowed more room to grow. With a growl be bent over you and pulled your jeans down your legs, your panties following suit, before flipping you over so you were on your front. He went to reach for your ass but had forgotten his jeans were still around his thighs, and he proceeded to trip-tumble onto the bed beside you. You couldn’t help but to giggle into the soft duvet, and it earned you a single spank on your ass that make you squeal.

Rolling onto your back you looked at Henry as he huffed and puffed to take his jeans and boxers off, and you spread your legs as your hands strayed to your pussy;

“Are you doing to fuck me, or shall I just get myself started?” you said with more sass than needed, but it earned you a low groan and you could have sworn you heard seams ripping as he finally rid himself of his clothes.

“Cheeky wench!” Henry pounced on you, pulling your top over your head before fumbling with your bra, finally getting you out of it as he flung it across the room and you heard it hit something in the darkness; “I’ll show you, gonna fuck you so good you’ll have to sit on a cushion when you go into work on Monday”

He flipped you over and pulled your ass up, and you instinctively arched your back and bared yourself to him, prone and ready, begging for attention. You felt his hands smooth over your ass before dipping between your legs;

“Already so wet for me, you need me to fuck this cunt Princess? Fill you up with my cum? Or should I cum over your beautiful tits, so you can watch me as I spray my load on you, huh?”

He slid two fingers into your soaked hole, stretching you as his thumb found your clit and he rubbed harshly at it, the wine making him lose his finesse but up his pressure. When he pulled his fingers out you let out a needy whine, only to feel him press his dick against you, rutting into your crease and smearing your juices over himself.

The friction was delicious, and you found yourself pressing back and eager for more, earning a low chuckle to rumble up from Henry’s chest;

“You like that Princess? Like me rubbing my dick against your asshole?”

“Oh fuck… fuck… more…”

You felt him spit on your ass as he lowered his dick and slowly but firmly filled your pussy. As you were getting used to be filled so deep you felt his thumb press against your asshole;

“NERD!”

Suddenly Henry stopped;

“Princess?”

You turned, looking over your shoulder;

“Look Hen, I may be up for some anal play, but lube… you gotta use lube…”

You saw him look back and forth between your ass and his bedside drawers, as if trying to work out whether to forget the ass play and just fuck your pussy, or to give up your pussy for just a few seconds and get the lube. In the end the lube won, and he quickly slid out of you, leaning across the bed and yanking the drawer open, before pulling out a small bottle of Durex Lube. You saw it and grinned;

“Ooh nice one. Make sure there’s enough for a tit-wank in the morning”

Henry paused and looked at you, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting at what you’d said as it fought through the wine haze;

“Fuck, if I didn’t want to fuck you doggy style quite so much I’d say let’s do that now…”

He settled behind you and rammed his dick straight back into you, making you squeal as he filled you. You heard the quiet squeeze of the pump on the bottle before the cool gel fell on the crease of your ass and his fingers started to massage against your back door. He ran his finger around and around your brown rose, and you could feel yourself relaxing and trying to push back to get him to go further, making you whine;

“Please Hen… do something…”

He ran his thumb over your asshole and rested it on it before finally pushing in, holding the digit inside just up to the first knuckle, and that’s when he started to move in your pussy.

“So. Fucking. Good. My dirty little Princess…”

You whined for more, for him to go harder, deeper, and he did so with glee;

“You want more? Fuck yes, take my dick, can feel your insides parting for me, you like my thumb in your ass? Like being double stuffed?”

“Fuck…” your head was swimming, your chest resting against the bed as you snuck your hand between your legs and started to strum at your clit, urging your orgasm on as Henry turned into a feral beast behind you, fucking you raw and dirty, you pushing back for each thrust to feel him deeper and split you wider.

Your orgasm happened without warning, screaming out his name as you came so hard he was sure if he hadn’t pulled his thumb out your muscles would have broken the bones in it. Your knees gave way and you slumped down onto the bed, Henry still deep inside you, fucking you as you lay spent on the bed;

“So close… almost there…

“Cum on my ass Hen…” you muttered as he railed into you, and you heard a groan as he pulled out of you, seconds later the splash of his hot seed landing on your naked ass, back and thighs.

For a moment everything went quiet before you felt him wiping his cum from you, and he moved you in the bed until you were curled up in his arms, the little spoon to his big;

“You’re fucking amazing Princess, I fucking love you so much” he slurred, before the two of you feel asleep in drunken stupors.

Chapter 9 >>>

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill au

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the1918 · 4 years

Photo

(The actual ask reply got fucked up with the read more cut, so posting here!)

Alright, so.

Set the scene: Steve and Bucky pined like crazy but did not have an actualized relationship in the 40s. But it’s the 21st century now -- and Bucky has worked through enough of his issues post-Hydra recovery that he’s pretty stable, mentally -- and they’re still pining, still clueless idiots for each other. They touch and scent each other a lot more than average friends do, but that’s been the case with them since they were kids. Oh, and this pining is e-x-t-r-a tropey because they share an apartment in Avengers Tower, because of course they do, and of course they were room mates omgggg.

Ok, now that we’ve set the scene, give me allllll the A/B/O tropes:

Steve Rogers is a virgin -- because of course he is, I’m exactly that self-indulgent

Steve Rogers is a virgin because he was too sickly before the serum to have heats (wasn’t promiscuous besides), was given suppressants by the army during the war, and after he woke up from the ice and started to have actual heats he never found an alpha he trusted enough to help him through it

Steve Rogers is a blushy as shit virgin

But Bucky doesn’t know any of this.

And yes, in this ABO universe it is painful as shit for an omega to go through a heat alone, but Steve Rogers is nothing if not a stubborn idiot. I think Bucky just assumes that Steve probably found heat partners in the past. As much as Bucky wants it, the fact remains that he’s not Steve’s alpha, so even though the mental visual of another alpha touching Steve is too much for Bucky to handle, he tamps the thought down to be a good friend.

When this all starts to go down, I think that it probably takes Bucky a good bit longer than it should for him to pinpoint exactly why it is that Steve smells so different, so extra good--but in Bucky’s defense, he’s never actually smelled the scent of Steve in pre-heat before.

It’s probably not until Bucky notices his own behavior -- hovering around Steve, keeping an eye on him to make sure he’s eating plenty, taking mental stock of every alpha in every room that Steve walks into -- that Bucky finally puts two and two together and realizes that Steve is going into heat, soon. And then once Bucky does realize it, he probably tries to avoid being in tooclose proximity to Steve, especially as Steve gets closer to entering full heat. Bucky doesn’t want to overstep or make Steve uncomfortable.

But then one day, Bucky’s in their kitchen and Steve comes in, says he wants to ask him something. From the smell of him, Bucky gives Steve maybe 24 hours before he’s in full heat. He wonders if he should make himself scarce for a few days or if Steve is going to be the one to go, go find whatever heat partner he’s got and get fucked for a week straight, take another alpha’s knot one or two dozen times, and-- and Bucky has to put his coffee mug down before he crushes the ceramic handle to dust.

He maintains his cool, lets Steve talk. But Steve is nervous, nervous and blushy and adorable (trope!) like Bucky has never seen him before.

“Bucky, I…” Steve begins. He looks down nervously, and Bucky thinks that the way Steve’s lashes kiss against the flushed tops of his cheeks should be illegal.

Steve’s anxious, a lot; he can’t quite meet Bucky’s eyes. Bucky doesn’t like things that make Steve anxious.

“What is it, Stevie?”

Steve finally gets to talking but he stutters, is flustered. “I was wondering if—and it’s okay if you don’t want to! I know everything must still be really weird for you, and—”

Bucky can’t stop himself from reaching a hand out and cupping the side of Steve’s neck like he does sometimes, wrist against Steve’s scent gland.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Just tell me, you can tell me. Ask what you wanna ask.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath and visibly steels himself, anxious, still, but brave enough to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I wanted to know if you might wanna, um.” His bottom lip is so damn pink where he’s biting down on it. “If you might wanna help me through my heat?” And it’s mumbled and fast but Bucky can hear every word--even though he can’t believe a damn one of them.

Bucky’s awestruck but he’s gotta say something, can’t leave Stevie hanging.

“Stevie, oh, you... fuck, you perfect little doll.” Not something he’s called his friend before. He brushes Steve’s smooth jawline with one thumb and looks at the omega with such fondness that it makes the room feel a little sticky. “Of course I do.”

And a surprised smile lights up Steve’s face, like he wasn’t expecting Bucky to actually say yes. Bucky can’t stop talking.

“Of course I want that. I’m so happy you asked, baby.” Another endearment he’s never used for Steve.

But Bucky needs to know some things, too. Information

“You’re sure about this, Stevie? Why me?” And he doesn’t wanna ask this next, but he’s gotta. “Where’s the alpha—alphas, whoever—that usually stay with you?”

“What?” Steve looks genuinely confused for a moment before he gets it, understands what Bucky means, and the blush that covers his face looks like it must extend far below the neckline of his thin t-shirt. “Oh! Um, no, there was no…”

And then as Steve trails off his eyes get all wide like he’s just realized something, and he looks even more nervous than before. He’s breathing harder, and the anxiety in his scent is back. He shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers. He diverts his eyes and makes his whole body smaller.

“Sorry?” Bucky repeats, “why? What you got to be sorry about, baby?”

The endearment slips out again but it does something to the omega this time, makes his eyelashes flutter and his anxious scent mellow a bit. Still, Steve’s nervous; he can’t quite meet Bucky’s eyes.

Again, Bucky does not like things that make Steve nervous, and he gives into the protective urge to crowd Steve in against the kitchen island with his body, hands on either side of him, holding onto the countertops. Steve lets out a little whine that Bucky’s not prepared for, and his hips press into Steve’s before he can stop them.

It’s not actually sexual; Bucky’s just pinning him, keeping him grounded. But still, Steve moans a little, tries to breathe through it.

“I—I’ve always… just.”

And that’s when it clicks with Bucky, that Steve has always toughed out his heats alone.

Steve might be a virgin, he realizes, and he’s asking Bucky to fuck him. Bucky might get to be the very first person to fuck Steve (and the very last, if Bucky had his way). The thought alone makes Bucky want to groan and grind into Steve right there in the kitchen but he keeps it contained, keeps his focus on what Steve needs from him right now.

And besides, it’s just a hunch. Bucky needs to hear it, needs to confirm some things with Steve first and hear Steve really say it.

“Stevie, tell me you want this with me. With me. Don’t say it if it isn’t completely true.”

Steve’s demeanor gets a little frantic at the question. “Yes—yes, Buck. I want it. So much. Please.” And Bucky has to stroke his sides to calm his nerves.

“Okay, thank you. I want it, too. I’m so happy you asked, sweetheart.” Another sweet name, and Bucky just can’t seem to hold them in anymore. “But I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me. No matter what you answer, I promise that I’ll still want to do this.”

Steve looks wary and still nervous but also a little curious, nods.

“Has anyone ever taken you before?”

[ Author interlude: “Taken you” -- not “fucked you”, not “knotted you,” even, yet. Bucky would say it like that because it’s an older way of phrasing it, more polite, something people would have said in the 40s before you could say things like ‘pregnant’ or ‘knot’ on television. ]

Steve’s face is on fire. He shakes his head. ‘No’.

Bucky wants to be a good alpha, needs to keep his omega calm, but it takes everything he’s got to keep his visceral reaction to Steve’s admission contained inside:

Because all Bucky can’t stop imagining how damn pretty Steve is going to look all spread across the sheets, all spread out in the nest that Bucky is definitely about to go build for him

Because Bucky can’t stop planning out how he’s going to take Steve the first time while he’s got Steve’s on his back, looking up at Bucky the first time Bucky makes love to him. Bucky wants to gauge every little expression on Steve’s face when he’s getting fucked, wants memorize every detail about the way Steve looks the first time he takes a knot-- takes Bucky’s knot

Because Bucky can’t stop thinking about all the many and varied ways he’s going to make Steve wail with pleasure, how many times he’s going to fuck the come out of him before the week is over

Because Bucky’s got plans but he’s also got an overwhelming number of lizard brain thoughts--ProtectFuckFeedScentMateBreedBiteKeep

But Bucky keeps it all inside as much as he can because Steve looks anxious about his confession, and that just won’t do.

“Sweetheart.” Bucky leans in even more and presses his forehead against Steve’s, and their lips are a ghost of breath away from touching but he still hasn’t kissed Steve, yet. “Sweeter than sugar, you are.”

Steve brightens at the praise, smiles shyly (trope!). “That-- that’s okay?” he asks, “that I haven’t done this before?”

“Okay?” Bucky repeats. “It’s more than okay, baby. So amazing, saving yourself for me.”

And then Bucky finally closes the gap between their lips. It’s closed-mouth and chaste and both of their lips are the barest bit chapped, but it’s Bucky’s silent promise to Steve, Bucky’s promise that he’s going to be good to him and careful with him but he’s going to give Steve what Steve needs and fuck him silly; fuck him tender.

Bucky’s going to do everything he can to warrant the amount of trust Steve has already given to him.

Other heat thoughts:

Biting/Bonding: They’re not technically a ‘couple’, with the words, but neither one of them has any doubts that this is not something casual, not just a friend helping a friend. They don’t have to say it out loud; Steve is Bucky’s, and Bucky is Steve’s. But Bucky wouldn’t bite him this first time, because that’s a big deal even for ‘Till the End of the Line’ couples, and he wants it but he’d want to wait until Steve’s heat is over to have a clear-headed conversation.

Birth Control: Steve probably gets that sorted out with whatever Avengers medical establishment there is. He does it almost as soon as Bucky agrees to spend the heat together, because as hormone-addled as he is in pre-heat (as much as his lizard brain absolutely wants him to get bred up with Bucky’s babies), he knows that Bucky’s still got some issues to sort through and he’s not ready to be a father, but also, fuck: the thought of Bucky having to wear a condom, of not filling Steve up with every drop that he’s got, is practically painful.

Woosh... that’s a lot of thoughts. @glide-thru thank you for the idea, hope you liked this!

My Masterlist [x]

UPDATE 5/12/20 - This is a fic now!!! [x]

#my fic #my drabbles #a/b/o #stucky #steve/bucky #stevebucky #steve x bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky ff #mcu #captain america #chris evans #sebastian stan #omega!steve rogers #alpha!bucky barnes

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adhdeancas · 4 years

Text

A Bump in the Night

Dean and Cas are finally together and the world is finally at peace, but neither one can shake their anxieties that everything could fall apart at any second. Or sleep. They’ve been through a lot, but they’ll get through it together.

(fluffy, post 15.20, talks about anxiety/anxiety attacks) read on AO3

The first thought Dean had when he woke up was that it was happening again. His heart was pounding, and something in the back of his head was screaming alarm bells at him. The rest of his head was still heavy and disoriented from sleep and whatever nightmare had so obviously caused this. Again. He took a deep shuddering breath, trying to slow down his heart, but the second he thought about it, it sped up again. Oh, the life of a hunter was glamorous.

His hearing was alert up from the anxiety flowing through his veins, so when he heard a noise coming from somewhere in the bunker it sounded significant. A dull thud, maybe the sound of a boot coming down the stairs, or a body against a wall. Could be the sound of someone falling, or maybe it was the sound of the kitchen door shutting in its heavy frame. Someone was in the bunker.

“No, Dean,” he scolded himself quietly. “Nobody can get in, nobody even knows this place exists.”

But what if someone did? Was he just gonna sit there in bed like an idiot and wait for them to barge in? Kill his family? Dread gripped his chest and he eased out of bed with a sigh. It happened every night. But there was always a chance that this time… this time it would be real. He grabbed his gun from under his pillow and padded into the hall, being careful to shut his well-oiled door quietly. It was the only door in the place that he’d ensured was silent; all the others squeaked like an old bird. For protection. Nothing better to alert you to an intruder than a squeaky hinge.

Okay, so he was a little paranoid. Dean crept along the hallway, keeping a careful eye on all the shadows he saw move in the dim lighting of the wall sconces. Nothing yet. He could hear Sam snoring through his bedroom door. “Jeesh, thank god Eileen is deaf.” He snickered to himself. Next came Jack’s door. Jack slept like a freaking rock, so Dean felt alright peeking into his bedroom to check. Safe and sound, a book folded on top of his chest and his lamp still on. Dean tiptoed to his bedside, turning it off and laying the book on his nightstand before he left. Dork. He was gonna turn out just like Sam, a little bookworm. He’d been really into this nerdy science-fiction series, something about aliens and pirates, maybe. Cas really was the better listener when it came to that kind of thing.

His heartbeat picked up again the second he got out the door, so much that Dean had to lean against the wall and force himself to breathe. There was nothing even happening, goddamnit.

The kitchen was clear, the Dean Cave was empty and dark, but there was a dim light shining down at the end of the hallway. The library. “Sam probably just forgot to turn off a lamp again.” He told himself, so quietly he could barely hear it. He raised his gun anyway, sneaking up the hall until he could turn the corner and have the element of surprise. That would be the first room someone searched if they’d broken in, after all. He jumped out from the corner, gun pointed…

At Cas.

“Dean!” Cas gasped. He put the book in his hand down, looking up at Dean. “It’s just me.”

Dean let out a breath which felt like a relief. He was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing about halfway down the hall. For stealth, you know. He relaxed the grip on his gun and let it drop to his side. “Sorry, Cas,”

“Did you think I was an intruder?”

“No, I-” That would be ridiculous. No one could get in here. No one knew this place existed. “I heard a noise.”

“And you thought it was trouble.”

“No, I just… I wanted to make sure.” He hoped his face wasn’t getting as red as it felt. “This place has all sorts of weird stuff,” God, that excuse was lame. He silently begged Cas to agree. They’d just started dating. This was not a hot look. His heart beat agreed with him. He felt nauseous.

“The bunker is safe, Dean. We searched through everything.” Cas beckoned him over, and Dean reluctantly sat down. With his boxer briefs, t-shirt, and gun, he felt a lot silly sitting next to Cas. Cas, fully dressed and lounging in the middle of the night.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean ducked his head, hoping Cas wouldn’t hear how hard he was trying to keep his breathing even. “Old habits.” He huffed and set the gun down on the table. “What are you doing up, anyway?”

Cas shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I guess I’m not quite as used to human processes as Jack yet.”

Dean grinned slightly. “Yeah, well, the kid’s a teenager. He needs it.”

“The kid’s three.” Cas corrected. He crossed his legs and faced Dean on the couch like he was the kid.

“Makes my point even better then.” Cas just smiled at him in reply. Dean fidgeted, uncomfortable with the attention, even though he was sure Cas was just as tired as he was.

Cas seemed to recognize it. He frowned and took Dean’s hand in his, running his fingers over the creases of his palm. Luckily he either didn’t notice or ignored how clammy they were. “Dean… do you feel okay?” He spoke softly and calmly, but Dean recognized the tone. It was something new they’d developed since Cas had come back from The Empty, since they’d started dating. It was this tone that they used when they wanted the truth, even though they knew it was uncomfortable.

Dean felt dumb answering. “Yeah, I mean… I’m fine. I mean… look at me, all my fingers and toes are there and everything.” he wiggled his fingers in Cas’s grip, which earned him a little smile. “I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Cas. I know it’s all over, but… I still get nervous. Over nothing.” He rubbed at his eyes tiredly, letting the anxiety settle into place. “I’ve woken up every night this week and cleared the bunker.”

The admission didn’t take Cas off guard at all. At least, not that he showed. He squeezed Dean’s hand and put another on the back of his neck. His hands were cool and steady, and they made Dean feel a little more anchored. “Are you anxious right now?” Dean took the hand away from his face and nodded. He gripped Cas’s hand and raised it to his chest so he could feel his heartbeat racing away. Cas nodded. He leaned in to Dean, kissing his soft and sweet.

“I haven’t been able to sleep because I keep thinking I’m going to come out of my room and it’ll all be gone.” He admitted quietly. “You, Jack, Sam, Eileen. It feels like if I stay out here, in the open, there isn’t a chance for it all to disappear.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. He understood, of course he did. But the thought of Cas staying out here all night feeling bad, it made him hurt. “Why didn’t you come get me?”

Cas smiled, quirking an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you?”

Dean shrugged and kissed his knuckles. “Touche.” He couldn’t tell if touching Cas like this was making his anxiety better or worse. On the one hand, getting to touch Cas and be soft with him made him feel giddy and scarily lucky. On the other hand, it also made him feel all kinds of butterflies, the sense of disbelief that this man loved him still lingering. He decided it was worth it either way, and knocked his knuckles against Cas’s leg. “Come on, come to bed with me.”

Cas paused, eyebrows raising.

“Oh come on, I don’t mean like that.” he grinned easily. “At least, not right now.” The blush crept up his cheeks again. Flirting with Cas was his newest extreme sport. “Just, maybe if I’m there you won’t feel like everything’s about to disappear.”

Cas looked way too flattered at the proposition. God he was cute. “On one condition. Wake me up if you hear a noise?”

Dean laughed. “Are you sure? You need your beauty rest.”

Cas scowled at him. “Is that an insult?”

“Eh, you’ve looked worse.” Dean quirked his lips. He was almost cuter when he was annoyed.

“Oh really? Like when?”

“Like that one time in the barn when you told me you loved me?”

“Oh, you mean the time I was dying?” Cas scoffed.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. You looked like shit.”

Cas shook his head and seemed to remember their conversation. “I mean it. Wake me up.”

Dean’s smile faded as he thought it over. Maybe he could wake Cas up with a few kisses, convince him to go for a night drive or something instead of stalking around the house. “Okay, fine. But no being grumpy.”

“Me? Dean, you are a nightmare to wake up.”

“Is that an insult?”

“Yes.”

Dean laughed and grabbed Cas by the hand, leading him to his bedroom. That sleep was the best either of them had gotten in weeks.

#i can not be stopped #destiel #fanfic #fluff #post canon #post 15.20 #anxiety #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #cas #deancas

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schrijverr · 4 years

Text

Small Comforts

Mechtober: Octokittens & Family

Jonny makes friends with a bunch of octokittens after they help him with his nightmares and runs into Ashes late at night while he’s feeding them in secret.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: nightmares and vague implication of a panic attack. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jonny couldn’t remember where or when the octokittens came into his life aboard the Aurora, just that one day they were there and they were assholes.

The eight-legged monsters would always trip him up and scream at him in the middle of the night, waking him in the process, which was just rude, only for him to find out that they were merely hungry and wanted him to feed them.

He didn’t want to feed the bastards, he knew the others spoiled them enough and he didn’t know why they’d thought they could trick him into feeding them again, especially after waking him up in the middle of the goddamn night.

He just wanted to sleep.

Whenever he grumbled about the little shits to the others he only got laughed at or they told him to be nice, which was rich coming from people like Tim and Ashes, the fuckers.

But then one night it shifted. He was violently awoken from his sleep once more by a loud octokitten yell in his ear, but this time he couldn’t be more relived.

He’d been dreaming, no dreaming was the wrong word, he’d been having a nightmare. Everything went to shit and he couldn’t stop it, he was all alone again with no family to cling to and it had been terrible.

The little head butting his hand was a welcome comfort and he let his fingers slide through the fur as he tried to calm his breathing down to match the stupid monotone pace his metal heart was beating at.

He could feel the beast purring under him and it was easy to forget the nightmare when he listened to the little content sounds and felt the vibrations under his palm.

Once he felt as human as he got these days, he swung his legs over the side of the bed as he carefully balanced the octokitten that was always there in his arms, he knew it was the same bastard that had woken him up every time, since it was completely pink after an experiment of Raphaella had gone wrong.

Or right, who knew with her.

Jonny knew he had too much pride to go and wake any of the others for comfort, god knew he couldn’t even ask for it during the day when he wouldn’t be disrupting them, but the pink abomination in his arms was good enough.

He carried it to the kitchen, a dozen of its friends on his heels and he carefully fed them all some of the meat. He knew they liked it, he’d gotten mad at them once for trying to steal it and they rarely made the effort to steal anything.

After that he and the octokittens built up a routine. He’d feed them during the night and they kept him warm while he slept and woke him up when he trashed from the nightmares.

The pink one he’d named Fucksia, cause she had kind of a fuchsia color and he liked saying fuck. He thought it was clever and Fucksia wasn’t complaining.

Then one night he was feeding the octokittens again. He was in nothing but his boxers and a big tshirt he’d stolen from Brian and he was gently scolding them: “Fucksia, you know I’m not going to skip you, I never did and I’m not starting now. Wait your turn.”

When behind him someone chuckled.

Jonny startled and swung his head around, dropping the piece of meat in his hand. At his feet the octokittens squabbled over it while Ashes smirked at him. He swallowed and asked: “What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same if it weren’t so obvious. When did you grow soft for the octokittens?” they said.

Stammering for a moment, Jonny gestured aimlessly at the air, before dropping his arm and shrugging as he inspected the ground silently.

The octokittens had finished the dropped piece of meat and were meowing at him again. Ashes gaze was burning him and he didn’t want to answer them, didn’t want to admit that they gave him the comfort he craved and was too scared to ask for.

He picked Fucksia up and held her to his chest as he swallowed thickly and continued to ignore Ashes, while feeling their presence heavily around him.

Ashes looked at Jonny and barely recognized him. He seemed small, timid, unsure. They didn’t like how he’d shrunken into himself the moment they’d made themself known.

They’d watched him for a while, before they had opened their mouth. During that time, they’d seen him smile and roll his eyes at the octokittens antics as he fed them little scraps of meat while he petted and cooed at them.

That had all dropped away when they’d chuckled at his scolding of the little furbeasts and now he was there looking like a small kid with a stuffed toy hugged to his chest.

The bright pink octokitten in his arms purred as he petted them, seemingly soothing himself just as much as the octokitten.

Realizing that they should probably say something, since it was clear Jonny wasn’t going to, they said: “It’s alright, it’s kind of adorable to see you interact with them, I was just wondering when that happened since you were grumbling about them-”

They cut themself off when they realized they hadn’t heard Jonny complain about the octokittens in a few weeks now.

“Huh.” they said, “You actually haven’t been grumbling about them.”

Jonny shrugged and weakly said: “They’re soft and warm.”

Ashes smiled at the small admission and asked: “Can I pet them and feel?”

Jonny nodded and lifted his arm to allow them to pet the octokitten while he told them: “I named her Fucksia, she can be a little shit and she screams very loudly when she’d hungry, but she vibrates nicely when you pet her and she breathes regularly so that I can follow.”

His voice petered off at the end and he went back to scratching Fucksias head while he blushed at his confession, but it had been enough for Ashes to be able to put together why Jonny had started to like the octokittens.

They silently cursed themself for making Jonny feel bad or embarrassed about seeking comfort in the little creatures. They had also struggled with comfort for a long time and had found it in scented candles, they would hate it if they though someone was laughing at that, especially someone of the crew.

“That’s really nice, Jonny.” they said, “I’m glad she’s there then.”

Jonny gave them a glance and they smiled at him. After a second Jonny smiled back, before turning back to Fucksia and feeding her a piece of meat from the counter.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Ashes said, backing away, they thought it best not to intrude on this for Jonny, but they did want him to know one more thing before they went, so they added: “Don’t be afraid to come to me if Fucksia isn’t enough to help.”

Biting his lip Jonny was still for a moment, then he nodded and waved goodbye, before turning back to his haggle of furry friends to continue feeding them, but there was a smile playing at his lips now that he was reassured once more that he did have a family to fall back on.

Fucksia meowed again and he fondly said: “Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re enough too.”

She meowed again and with an eyeroll he told her: “I just fed you, the others go first now, okay?”

#RR writing #jonny d'ville #ashes o'reilly #octokittens #the mechanisms #the mechs #Mechtober #Mechtober 2020

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter three: fire and lemons

“i'm goin' back, of course i am! as if i ever had a choice. back to what i always knew i was on the inside. back to what I really am.” -”burning bright (field on fire)”, nine inch nails

It would be another couple of days before Sam heard a peep from Joey again. In the meantime, she had picked up Metallica's phone numbers given she knew she would have more encounters with them in and around their shows, and she made a promise to a tipsy Lars to share some of her drawings when she found the chance.

Cliff offered to take Sam home but she had already been promised a ride from Marla, Frank, and Charlie back up to the Bronx; Joey hitched a ride with them given he was in no shape to drive back upstate. The last thing she saw before she left the restaurant was Cliff's thoughtful facial expression, there right behind James and Kirk; Legacy, meanwhile, were headed on back to their hotel somewhere down in Manhattan. Sam peered out the car window in time to see that boy with the little white tuft in his hair at the curb: darkness shrouded his face but she could make out the shape of the small piece of white through it all.

The warm spring night greeted her and Frank once the two of them had returned to the apartment complex for the night: Sam's knee still ached a bit as she took the steps up to her place, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it used to be before. She made a mental note to head on back to Frank's apartment to fetch that journal and make some more drawings, that time to show to Lars.

In the meantime, she used a small journal she had delved out from the bottom of her bag for doodles. She kept her mind fixated on Cliff, especially since she knew it was him at that point. Indeed, when she fell asleep on the couch that night, he appeared in the wake of her dream. The white stripe bled away into darkness and into a pair of snakes atop his head. His handsome face gazed back at her like the old stone face of a statue.

It wasn't him, but it also was. The man of her dreams, same as he ever was and always will be to her. He was in between something, somewhere, someone who graced the earth. It was Cliff. It wasn't Cliff. Somewhere in between there.

She reached out to touch him, to feel him, to get to know him, and yet he drifted away from her, much like that of a ghost in the shadows. He wondered around her as if he was about to circle his prey, but he never said anything. His deep set eyes watched her, even as he walked behind her and underneath her.

She awoke with her arms outstretched before her, such that they dangled over the edge of the couch cushions. She let her fingers curl back towards the base of her palm. So close and yet so far away from her.

Sam also recalled the promise she made to Joey, to go and hang out with him at some point that week. She had made a couple of calls to him over the course of two days but he never picked up once. She did, however, pick up his answering machine and the sound of his soft voice coupled with his distinct upstate accent. Every single time she did, she closed her eyes to relish in it.

“Hey, this is Joey Belladonna—I'm either out jammin' or playin' hockey, but you can leave a message if you'd like, please and thank you.”

It was only for a few seconds, but it was something.

He finally made the call back to her early one morning, but she was quick to pick it up there in the kitchen as she began to brew a small pot of coffee for herself.

“Hey, my li'l Sam I am,” he greeted her in a soft, broken voice.

“Hey, Joey! I've been wondering what's been going on with you.”

“I had a feelin' that was the case.” A gentle crackling noise on his end caught her attention.

“Is everything okay?” she asked him. “You don't sound good.”

“I just woke up,” he answered, “I haven't been able to get back to ya 'cause I was nursin' the hangover.”

“Oh, I see.”

“It was also one of those things where it was like—I kept forgetting to get back to you. That's kinda my fault, though. I kept forgetting and by that point, it was always like almost midnight and I figured you had already gone to sweet. So—but here I am now! How is everything?”

“Oh, you know,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders, “—just waiting to hear back from the admissions desk at my school and doodling and whatnot. I can foresee hope of paying my rent soon.”

“That's so good,” he remarked and the crackling noise emerged from the background again. “So, uh—what you wanna do when we see each other again?”

“What do you have in mind?” Sam leaned back against the edge of the counter and folded her arms across her chest.

“Well, Metallica's coming back out this way—not this week but next Friday, I think? They haveta finish up on some important stuff for their new record. Apparently they recorded it over in Denmark so they left for there just last night and then they're comin' back here.”

“Wow. Why Denmark?”

“I dunno—sump'n 'bout the studio being cold so everything stands out better. Scott, Frankie, and Charlie know about it way more than I do. Legacy are comin' back over this way around then, too. I guess they'll be playing at L'Amour again.”

“Oh, how fun! I'd like to see them again—I wanna get to know them more.”

“Right? They're kind of at the tail end of this whole wave going around here and back out West, too. This wave of... 'speed metal' as it's known. Everyone is calling Metallica, Anthrax, and two other bands outta California, Megadeth and Slayer, as like the ones who're leading the way. Like the big ones.”

“The big four?” she followed along.

“Yeah, they're like the big four! The big four of the whole thing. And Legacy are kinda at the tail end of it 'cause they started a little later and they're still shuffling around.”

“A 'transition stage' as Zelda described it,” she recalled. “And you're part of it!”

“And I'm part of the big four! It almost feels like a movement of sorts. Although Anthrax to me feels like the oddball of the bunch 'cause y'know, we're from New York and those guys are all from your neck of the woods in California.”

“But they all frequent out this way, though,” she pointed out. “At least Metallica and Legacy do anyway.”

“They all do, yeah—we should meet up with Megadeth and Slayer at some point. The couple of times I got to meet Slayer, they were—for lack of a better word—fucking badasses. These seemingly scary looking dudes but they were real cool, though. Real friendly and genuine buncha guys. I haven't met Megadeth yet, though. We all should have a big party together some day.”

“All the parties and all the rage,” she remarked.

“All the parties and all the rage, all the world's a stage,” he waxed.

“That's good, you should write that down.”

“I ain't no song writer, though. Some people are good at that sorta thing—I don't really see myself as that.”

“But that was good, though! I liked that, Joey. You should do something of your own some day, like Stormtroopers of Death.”

“Do my own shtick and release under the label down there in the City,” he joked.

“Yeah, exactly!”

“But anyways, that's next week when Metallica are coming back from Denmark, though,” he continued, that time in a serious tone. “What about this week and before you hear back from the school people is what you wanted to know, though.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, let's see—I'm not doin' anything together. And I haven't been able to do anything, either, 'cause—you know.”

“Hungover.”

“Hungover—that lasted a little more than a day, too. But I'm back and invigorated, though.” He fell silent for a second, and the rustling noise caught her attention once again.

“What's that sound?” she asked him.

“What sound?”

“I keep hearing like this crackling sound on your end.”

“Oh, I'm layin' on my couch and there's a bunch of newspapers down on the floor and I keep brushing my foot up against it. Sometimes I don't even pay attention to what I'm doin' when I'm on the phone and—ah, shit—” More crackling on his end.

“What happened?”

“I kicked it over—hang on a sec.” Silence fell on his end: she could hear him shuffling around and doing something off of the phone. But within time, he returned to the phone and let out a long low whistle. “Here's an idea—how 'bout I drive on down there to the Bronx and come on over to your place and we play by ear there?”

“Sounds good. I'll be waiting for you.”

“It's gonna be a while—like—well, you've been up here before. It takes a while to get on down there. So—take a shower if ya wish. I know I'm gonna do that.”

“You wanna look good for me?” she teased him.

“Well...”

“Well?” She raised her eyebrows even though he couldn't see her.

“I won't deny it, but I also need a shower,” he finished in a single breath. “I smell like an empty liquor bottle.”

“Oh, yeah—get in that shower, big fella.”

He laughed at that and within time, they hung up, and Sam made her way to the bathroom for a warm shower and a fresh change of clothes. She knew she would have to return home from her day with Joey soon enough given the thought about her attending school hung over her. An excuse to get away from there and a reason for him to get away from that awful feeling.

Indeed, as the warm water cascaded over her head and shoulders, she figured she could help him out of that. That night in the alleyway told her that he was a boy in need of help. There was no way she could fix him but she could at the very least be a friend to him and dig him out of the alleyway once again.

Within time, she had dried off and ran a brush through her hair. A knock on the door caught her attention and she flung it open to find Joey standing there in a little white shirt and fitted black jeans. His jet black flyaway curls glistened under the ambient sunlight of the hallway and his sun kissed skin looked so soft and smooth. His black Chuck Taylors fitted his feet like a new pair of gloves. Meanwhile, the marker ink had stayed intact on his dark skin even after a couple of days and after he had cleaned up for her.

She noticed a flat silvery metallic band on his right wrist: something she hadn't seen before with him.

“What, no flowers?” She was taken aback.

“Was I supposed to get ya flowers?” he asked her, slightly hurt.

She hesitated for a second, and then she realized what she had done.

“Can I ask you a question?” she started.

“Yeah, sure,” Joey raised his dark eyebrows at her.

“Is this your first date?”

He stopped with his eyebrows still raised up into his bangs. She gazed into those dark irises.

“You really wanna know?”

“Please.”

He nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Is this a date?” he asked her.

“It's a date if you want it to be one,” she pointed out. “It can be a play date.”

“Nah, it's a play date if you and I are jammin' together.” He hesitated. “Do you—”

“Do I what?” She turned her head a bit to make sure her purse was within her arm's length on the hook.

“Play an instrument at all?” he finished with a bit of reluctance.

“I don't. I probably should, though.”

“Yes, you totally should.” His face lit up at that. She showed him a smile and then she reached to her right for her purse.

“Shall we?” she started.

“Yeah, let's,” he said as he lifted his elbow up for her to link up. She slung the purse over her shoulder and she closed the door in one fell swoop. The two of them made their way outside to the bright sunlight and the fresh aroma of springtime. Joey reached into his jeans pocket for his mirrored sunglasses: with one hand, he put it on over his dark eyes and his straight Roman nose. The lenses shone in the bright yellow light; Sam squinted her eyes once they reached the sidewalk.

“There's a little park over here,” Joey told her with a point up the block. “Like, around the corner. We can hang out and take a walk around the place.”

“Is there a lake or something there?” she asked him as she shielded her eyes from the midday sun with her free hand.

“I don't think so,” he confessed. “I didn't see one. I also saw a hockey rink not too far from here.”

“You wanna show me a little round of hockey, don't ya?” she teased him.

“If ya don't mind,” he replied with a little shrug of his shoulders and a lopsided little smile.

“Can we walk?”

“We can,” he said, and he ran his fingers through the fine, minute ringlets on the side of his head.

Joey linked up his right elbow with her left and they strolled together down the sidewalk to the corner. Sam peered past him to the narrow side street and she spotted the narrow strip of grass which he called the park.

“That's more like a dog park,” she declared.

“Yeah, now that I look at it—I imagine a bunch'a little dogs running around there now that I really look at it.” He lifted the sunglasses from his face for a moment; once they crossed the pavement, he brought them back down. She spotted the hockey rink in question, a long low dark building set back from the blacktop.

“I should've brought my skates with me,” he confessed over the noise of the street. “But then again, I don't think either of us can go onto the ice without one of us asking.”

“You could always say you're a hockey player,” she suggested as they looked both ways before they crossed the street.

“Yeah, but I'd need to do a little more than just say it, though,” he pointed out. Stray, damp black curls flew out from the back of his head as he led her across the first two lanes of the street. He paused at the center divider to let her catch up to him.

“You sure can run fast,” she remarked with a bit of a pant.

“That's part of the trade,” he replied with that lopsided grin back on his face. “Here—” He extended his hand for her and he guided her across the other two lanes to the sidewalk and ultimately, the hockey rink. Joey's black curls sprawled over his shoulders once they were in repose so as to catch their breath.

“For a skinny little guy, you sure are strong and full of stamina,” she said as she adjusted the strap of her purse.

“As I said, it's part of the trade. The strength of the whole thing will make you help the others find it for themselves. C'mon...” He led her to the hockey rink, which had been closed for the springtime, but he was willing to look in through the front window at the dark front room. She joined in next to him: through the cold shadows, she could make out the sight of a low bench and a series of lockers on the side of the wall.

“God, this takes me back,” he said in a low voice. “It seems like a lifetime ago since I would sit on a bench like that and lace up and put on my knee pads and my jersey.”

He turned to her with a serious expression on his face.

“Do ya think maybe you'd be up for a game of hockey at some point in the future?” he suggested. “I can show you how to do it if you don't know anything.”

“It'll be a while, though, Joey,” she pointed out.

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” he nodded at her with haste. “But I wanna show you the world that came before I turned into Joe the singing drummer—or Joe the drumming singer, whichever suits best. And I'll see if I can find a pair of skates for ya. And now that we bring it up, I kinda wanna show you something...” His voice trailed off and he turned his head. Without hesitating, he ducked over to a white plastic pipe laying on the grass. She stood there before the window and watched him.

“I was a goalie for a long time,” he called out; he held the end of the pipe with two hands, and he held it down by his slim waist. He spread his legs so it looked as though he was about to brandish a sword. “I did act as offense and defense a few times in the past, but I was mostly a goalie.”

“Did you have those big pads on your knees?” she asked him with a gesture down to her own knees.

“Oh, yeah—they stuck onto my knees and went all the way down to my ankles. I had these big oven mitts for gloves to protect my hands. You don't really think of the goalies taking a lotta shit, but we do. Well, I did, anyway. I got hit in the head and in the stomach a lot. Anyways, I'm holdin' this pipe like this 'cause you never wanna raise the hockey stick any higher than this. Any higher and you hit the guy next to you right in the face and you get sent to the box, too. You don't wanna be in the box.”

“Do I have to spread my feet like that, too?” she asked him.

“Nah. I'm only doin' it out of habit. When I'm on the ice, I wanna steady myself so I have a good shot for my teammates. C'mere—” Sam sauntered over to him and he handed her the pipe. She held it by the opposite end with both hands herself.

“And when you're swingin' it, like you're hittin' the puck with it, you wanna put the hand you write with closer to the head. Which hand do you write with?”

“My right.”

“Okay, so, here—” She moved her right hand down the pipe right as Joey stood right behind her. “Just like that, yeah! Well, not that far—” She moved her hand up towards her. “—yeah, that's better. And now put that end down to the ground—” She did just that and her purse slid off of her back, but she didn't mind. “It's a lot easier if we're movin' around and we're on the ice, like it just becomes natural to you.”

Sam stood back upright and held the pipe as if it was a baton.

“I was going to say, I can see this being real hard on your back.”

Joey shook his head a bit.

“It is kinda, like at first it was for me. But you get stronger with each time and on top of that, like I said, we're usually moving around at a real pace so you don't really think about it too much when you're playing a round with your team or you're hanging out with a bunch of friends.” He ran his fingers through the ringlets on the side of his head yet again.

“Wanna take a walk?” he suggested.

“Yeah. I haven't really seen much of this neighborhood since I moved here. I've either been hanging out with all of you guys or concerned with school and my own things.”

“Or it's been snowin',” he added.

“Or it's been snowing, right!”

“I'd put that pipe back on the ground, too—I saw something crawl out of it.”

Without even thinking for a split second, Sam tossed the pipe off to the side and they made their way down the sun bathed block. That time, they didn't link arms, but Joey walked side by side with her. All of the buildings were made of faded pale brick, but the whole neighborhood of the Bronx was in stark contrast to the rest of the city with all the little shops and the apartment complexes that lined the street.

“Maybe at some point, I can take ya a little bit upstate,” he said at one point.

“We can go now if you'd like,” she suggested, “you know, if you're not doing anything else today.”

“You wanna?” He showed her a grin.

“Yeah, let's do it! I only saw the one part of it when we went to go get you.”

“Alright—let's get on back and I'll drive you up to Poughkeepsie. It's one of my favorite places to play a gig at. It's a little bit of a drive, but I think we do it, though.”

It took them a little bit to return to Sam's block and to climb inside of Joey's beat up car. The same car that broke down in the months before out in the middle of the harsh New York winter. The same car he almost froze inside of.

“You still haven't gotten a new car?” she asked, stunned, as she rested her purse upon her lap and rolled down the window.

“There hasn't been any money,” he admitted with a solemn look on his face. He slipped the key into the ignition. “Trust me when I say this, though—the second there is a bit o' money, the first thing I'm getting is a new car.” It fired up without any roughness, but once they made their onto the parkway outside of the Bronx, Sam could feel the car was nearing its final miles: the way in which it seemed to struggle with staying in a straight line on the hard black pavement and also with staying up to speed with the rest of the traffic.

“I don't know if we'll be able to even get there,” he confessed at one point. She peered out the window at the sight of one of those green road signs, and its decreeing that Poughkeepsie was eighty miles away.

“You were able to drive down this way with no problems, though, didn't you?”

“Not at all. So this—this kinda worries me a li'l bit, if I'm honest.”

“What do you think we should do?” she asked him.

“Well—let's see. Keep an eye on those payphones out there. If we break down either out this way or on the way back, we're gonna haveta hit up either Frankie or Aurora or somebody to come and get us on one of those. I'll do the same if it breaks down and you're not with me.”

They drove up the wide four lane parkway for a few miles when the whole car began to gyrate and shake while in motion. Sam caught the smell of something burning.

“Shit,” he blurted out. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—shit!”

“What the hell is that? What's wrong with it?”

“It's overheating.” Joey shuffled his feet underneath his seat. Sam clutched at her purse. He drove towards the far right lane and the guard rail. He hit the brake pedal and the car screeched to a stop. The second they were at a halt, hot steam emerged from underneath the hood. The steam was then followed by a short flame out the front grill.

“Oh, my god, this car is dying, Sam!” He hit the edge of the steering wheel with both hands and bowed his head in frustration. “This fucking piece of shit!”

Sam climbed out of the front seat with her purse in hand and she made her way towards a tree on the side of the road to be away from the burning car. Joey followed suit right behind her. They stood together several feet away and watched the whole front of the car catch on fire.

“I'm sorry, Sam—I didn't mean for you to see that part of me,” he sputtered; Sam looked into his face to see tears in his eyes.

“Joey, you did what you could. That car was going to die anyway.”

“It was, yeah.” His upper lip trembled and she moved in closer to him. Sirens down the parkway caught her ear.

“Joey—I don't want to fix you. I want to be a friend to you. You're a sweet boy. You are. You are!”

“But I'm fucked up, though.”

“You're not! You're not fucked up, Joey. You like to party and have fun, and sometimes things like a burning car happen. But it's not your fault, Joey. I promise you. None of it is your fault.” She threw her arms around his slender body and she held him close. She leaned the side of her head against his chest so she could watch the back end of the car ignite into big hot yellow flames. They stood a ways away from it to keep away from the smoke, and the black column rose in the other direction from them, but she could feel the heat from the inferno.

“Thankfully I took my blanket out of the back,” he tearfully said. “That thing belonged to my grandma.”

“And thankfully, we're out of there,” she pointed out; she peered up at him and she brushed a tear away from his face.

“What the hell am I gonna say to my dad now?” he asked, and his brown eyes grew wide with concern.

“Tell him the truth,” she advised. “That's all I can tell you. Just tell him what happened.”

“I don't wanna lie to him after all,” he said with a sniffle and a shrug of his slender shoulders.

Within time, a fire truck and an ambulance showed up. But at that point, the car had burned down to the axles and Sam had already hunted down the payphone to give Aurora a call.

“They're taking us down to the station to check on us,” she told her. “Okay—call Marla and Charlie and tell them what happened. I'll give you a ring when we get there.”

Neither of them had inhaled any of the smoke given they stood so far from it and the column billowed in the opposite direction, but Sam could hardly shake the image of those bright flames from her mind as she and Joey rode in the back of the ambulance back to the Bronx.

“Why do I always get into deep shit when we're together?” he pointed out to her as they neared the familiar neighborhood. “Like it almost feels like karma is working against me whenever you and I hang out.”

“Why would karma work against you?” she asked him.

“I puked my guts out twice, the hockey rink was closed, and now my car caught on fire. It's almost like the universe is telling me we shouldn't hang out together.”

“I drew your face, though,” she pointed out. “It's in my journal—the same journal I handed in to get myself into school.”

“Oh, shit. I don't wanna jinx it then.”

“You won't jinx it,” she insisted.

“But that's my fear, though.”

They reached the driveway of the hospital, where a pair of nurses checked on them to ensure they didn't inhale that acrid smoke or received a bad burn of some sort. Sam recognized Marla's orange hair in the afternoon sun at the far end of the driveway.

Charlie reached them first with his arms wide open and he was quick to embrace them both.

“God, I'm so glad you guys are okay,” he murmured into Sam's ear.

“It was so scary,” she told him as Marla pushed him out of the way to embrace her.

“What were you guys even doing?” Charlie asked them.

“I was gonna take her up to Poughkeepsie for the day,” Joey explained, “we got a few miles out of town and the damn thing started overheating. It started shaking like a boiler, and then I pulled over and that was when the radiator went out and it caught fire. She got out of there so fast. Like she saw the steam rising and she just bolted. Right, and I'm the fast runner.” That coaxed that lopsided grin out of him, and a slight chuckle out of her.

“So what happens now?” Marla asked him.

“Bunk with me?” Sam suggested. “My couch is so comfy.”

“You're gonna make him sleep on the couch?” Charlie cracked.

“Where else is he gonna sleep at? On a hook?”

The two men burst out laughing at that.

“Yeah, I don't see why not,” Joey replied with a shrug. “I need to call my parents and tell them what happened, too.”

* * * * *

Given he had no means of returning home and fetching a fresh change of clothes for himself, Joey stayed in the same shirt and jeans for the next couple of days before Frank offered to take him home on Saturday night. But he lay on her couch with his sock feet and he greeted her every morning with that crooked smile plastered on his face. He always asked her how she slept the night before, and he always offered to help her out whenever he could.

On Thursday night, right before they turned in for the night, she realized that she was correct about him. Joey just needed someone to talk to in the whole grand scheme of things, being the boy from upstate New York and the guy thrust into the music scene from the hockey world. He only drank as much as he did because he needed a means of escape. He took it out on himself because of that old stone face that stared back at her through the darkness as she switched off the light.

The next morning, Sam was jarred awake to the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen. He caught it first given he lay there on the couch partially awake.

“Yeah,” he was saying in a broken voice; she stepped into the room right as he turned to face her. He showed her a smile. “Yeah, yeah, she's right here.”

And without changing his expression for a second, he handed her the phone. “I won't jump to conclusions but I think you're in business,” he told her with a twinkle in his eye.

Sam gasped and she brought the receiver to her right ear.

“Hello?”

“Is this Sam Shelley?” a man asked her.

“It is.”

“I'm Bill Gaunt—the man from admissions you gave the journal to about a week ago.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I remember you well.” She couldn't resist the excited smile on her face.

“Well, all I have to say is we love your art so much that we need to meet you and we need you here with us.”

“Seriously?” She brought a hand to her chest. Joey leaned in closer to her with his eyebrows raised high up into his bangs.

“Seriously, seriously. If you can come down some time today or Monday—the sooner the better—we'll figure out a grant for you. Welcome aboard!”

“Oh, thank you so much! I'll be there soon.” She hung up and she turned to an excited Joey.

“I'm in!” she declared. “I'm an art student!”

“Oh fuck yeah!” He threw his arms around her and she leaned her head against his chest. “Oh, my god, Frankie and Charlie are gonna freak when they hear about this.”

“Make a pot of coffee,” she told him as she stepped towards the kitchen doorway. “I'm gonna tell Frankie about it.”

“Is he even up?”

“I don't care if he isn't,” she quipped, “this is a time of celebration!” That brought a laugh out of him, and she ran out of the apartment in her pajama bottoms and her camisole; down past Emile's place and down the hall. She pounded on the door panel with both hands, and Frank greeted her with bleary eyes.

“Sam? The hell's going on?”

“I got into art school!” And his face lit up.

“Holy shit! See? I told you you'd get in!” He threw his arms around her. “Oh, god, that just made my life!” His chest shuddered a bit from the feeling. She pulled back to look into his face and he wiped away some happy tears.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, man.” He then rubbed his hands together. “I've gotta call Charlie and Marla and tell them—they're gonna be thrilled.”

“I'm gonna call my parents,” she told him. “I owe them absolutely everything.”

Frank returned to his apartment still with tears in his eyes and she ducked past Emile's apartment right as he poked his head out to the hallway. “What's all the commotion, Miss Shelley?” he asked her.

“I got into school, Emile! I'm gonna have some money coming in!”

“Excellent!” He showed her a thumbs up.

Sam hurried up the stairs to call up her parents and to have a cup of coffee with Joey. Every step up felt lighter and swifter. It was like a dead weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was finally a part of New York City, and she was going to let everyone know it.

Indeed, when she and Joey made her way down to Manhattan together so she could do it that day, and he didn't want her to go alone, she had a desire to tell everyone on the subway about it. She had to stop herself given she knew what Charlie had told her about living in the city. Joey huddled close to her on the other side of the support pole but he never touched her. He only showed her a big, excited smile and the twinkle in his eye.

“How exciting!” she decreed as she clutched the strap of her purse.

“Got a hand in Anthrax's world and now you're about to embark into art school,” he said with a nod of his head; the smile never left his face as they arrived in Manhattan and they surfaced from the subway to the bright sunshine outside.

“I'm just dyin' of thirst right now,” he confessed to her over the noise of the street. “I'm gonna grab a glass of lemonade. Would you like one?”

“Yes, please!”

Joey made his way down the block to one of the cafes on the side of the street. Right across the street, she spotted a tall man with a big floppy hat atop his head. She recognized him even from a distance. She hurried towards him right as he reached the street and turned in the opposite direction.

“Cliff!” she shouted over the noise of the street.

He never moved, even as she reached the corner of the side street.

“Cliff!” she called out again, and that time, he wheeled around to look at her: that black brim cast a soft shadow over his handsome face, and thus she could see into his eyes as they crinkled up at the corners with his big greeting grin.

“Hey!” he answered in a big bold voice; he set his hand on top of his hat. She peered both ways on the street, and then she darted across the pavement to meet up with him. He never dropped the grin from his handsome face as she came within earshot. She put her arms around his long torso and he returned the favor.

“What the hell, I thought you guys were in Denmark all this week?” she asked him as part of her greeting.

“Yeah, we were but we came back early, though,” he explained.

“How is it there?”

“Beautiful. It's springtime so the darkness and the daylight is perfect at the moment before it falls out of wack again.”

“Joey told me that you guys went there for the perfect sound of your new record,” she said as he led her away from the crowded street.

“Yeah, we were told—it was like a warehouse, this big empty space in the heart of Denmark—it was cold enough for Lars' drums and for the three of us to work harder. So what'cha doin'? I was just gonna go into his little book shop here.” She turned her head for a look at the cozy shop nestled in between a restaurant and a tattoo parlor.

“I got into art school!” she declared with spirit.

“Oh, that's so cool! I'm sure Lars'll like the sound of that.”

“Joey's across the street getting lemonade, but—I don't really wanna stand there on the street, though.” Without hesitating, Cliff held the creaky wooden door for her and she stepped inside of the cozy shop first. Right before her stood a low wooden table covered in books and faded papers: beyond that was a series of bookshelves, and to the right stood a short staircase. Cliff stepped around her and took off his hat to reveal the crown of fine brown hair atop his head. The black stripe was missing that time, to which she frowned at the sight of it.

He gazed on at her with a puzzled look on his face.

“What's the matter?” he asked her.

“For a second, I swore you had a black stripe in your hair,” she confessed.

“I don't,” he promised her, and he showed her a lopsided little grin. “But I can see how it'd confuse ya, though. My hair likes to change color depending on the lighting. One time, I went out with a girl who thought I had some white hairs on the side of my head.” Indeed, he gave his hair a toss back with a flick of his head and it looked as though his hair was comprised of a myriad of different colors. But she spotted a black stripe and a white stripe on the side of his head. It might have been part of the lighting after all, because the colors disappeared and returned to plain brown.

“You are a man of many colors,” she remarked with a grin upon her face. He set his hat down on the edge of the table and he picked up a book from the table in front of him: a blue paperback about the size of his hand from the base of his palm to the tip of his middle finger.

“What book is that?” she asked him.

“Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse—guess it's about Buddha? It's got a picture of Buddha on the cover.”

“Oh, yeah!” she squeaked with a wave of her finger. “I remember reading that when I was in high school.”

Cliff opened up to a random page near the back.

“'I have always believed,'” he read aloud, “'and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value.'” He glanced up at her with his eyebrows raised and his eyes big.

“I remember it well,” she said in a low voice.

“Sam?” Joey's voice floated in through the door behind her.

“Oh, there he is!” She opened the door for him, but he stood there on the sidewalk with glasses of lemonade in either hand. “How'd you know I was here?”

“Saw you walk in,” he explained, and he lifted his gaze into the shop. “Hey, Cliff!”

And Cliff nodded at him and showed him a smile. Sam took the cup in Joey's right hand.

“I gotta go,” she confessed to him, and he nodded at her, still with his eyes big and his face warm and soft. Before she followed Joey out to the street, and with the glass in hand, she stepped closer to Cliff.

“Call me when you get home,” she told him in a low voice.

“That is if you call me first,” he vowed to her with a wink.

#chapter 3 #fanfic #fanfiction #anthrax fanfic #metallica fanfic #anthrax #metallica #joey belladonna #frank bello #cliff burton #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #long reads #also on ao3 #text #deadly nightshade

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eeveecrmchl · 4 years

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DISCORD THREAD | EEVEE X VULCAN:

feat: @eeveecrmchl & @ellisvulcan

summary: eevee finds an old shirt at v’s place and wigs out simp style.

Eevee: It’s almost three am and for once, Eevee is sober and is actually aware of where her car is — currently on its way to V’s place. The drive there is familiar and she’s hit with the nostalgia of when she’d do this before. It doesn’t take long until she’s pulling up to his street and parking by the sidewalk. Hoodie wrapped around her, Eevee realizes that she should have changed rather than drive off the moment she’s given permission to stay over. Her steps echo through the silent neighborhood along with the knocks she delivers on his door even if it’s already slightly ajar. “Vulcan?” The wind is cold on her legs and Eevee is definitely regretting not putting on more clothing. “It’s, uh, Eevee.”

Vulcan: “Chevie, come on. You can wait somewhere else, you’re going to startle mommy if you wait by the door.” No response. It’s obvious who’s the pomeranian’s favorite is, Vulcan’s not complaining though. He did leave Eevee’s place an hour before since he needed to open up his repair shop in a few hours. He went to the kitchen while the dog still stayed there to get himself a bottle of water. Not long after he hears Eevee’s voice followed by a small bark, then there is Chevie running up to him. “I know, bud. I heard the door.” He chuckles as he walks to the living room. He was immediately surprised by what she was wearing. “Hello, baby. See what I’m talking about?”

Eevee: Eevee bends to pick up the Pomeranian and makes her way to the living room. It doesn’t escape her notice how domestic this all is and while she’s usually not one for monogamy — or any type of relationship really after him — she can’t help but relax into this role. “It’s not my fault he loves me more,” she points out, cradling the puppy in her arms. Eevee gives him a few more belly rubs before setting him down. Even if they’ve shared her bed before, she’s come to realize they’ve never actually discussed sleeping arrangements at his place. “Uh I can take the couch? I don’t want to fuck up your sleep schedule since you have work in the morning and we both know I’m not gonna let you go once your alarm rings.”

Vulcan: "I was going to say I can't blame Chevie for loving you more, like father, like son, right?" A light chuckle escapes his lips as he watches her cradle the dog in her arms. It's been so long ever since Eevee last stepped foot in his house and he couldn't believe she's here again. He's never put away her things even though he broke up with her, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He even argued with the girls he's brought home with him if they ever dared to touch her things. "No, you're not taking the couch, baby. Come on--get settled in bed, okay? And I don't mind waking up later than my usual time. I'm turning my alarm off for today, so we can get the sleep we both need." He walks over to her and kisses the top of her head. "Spend the rest of the day with me?"

Eevee: “Simp,” the term holds an affectionate note even if Eevee denies ever being one. Rather than argue — and truth be told she was hoping for his answer anyway — she takes his hand and guides them to the direction of his bedroom, already knowing where to go from memory. “No, don’t do that for me. You have to work. I can sit around and help -- or uh give you moral support. I don’t have plans tomorrow anyway.” Eevee’s pretty sure she doesn’t have class but she’s brought a couple of pills to keep her busy for hours anyway while V worked. That and she barely goes to the class she’s thinking of since attendance isn’t mandatory. “Watch it, Ellis, you keep wanting to spend your day with me, I’m going to start thinking you actually want me around,” she teases. Dropping his hand to strip herself of her hoodie, she leans in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Come on, looks like you’re tired. The drive kind of woke me up so it’ll take me a while to knock out, but you need rest.”

Vulcan: "My body's used to waking up on a certain time, baby. The alarm's just my little contingency plan." Vulcan is honestly just looking forward to spend the day with Eevee even when he's going to on his repair shop. "I do like having you around, makes any day better." He just shrugs at her blonde, watching her while she takes her hoodie off. "Clothes right there, baby. Need to make sure you're always warm." He sits down on the edge of the bed. "I'm not tired, maybe only a little. I do sleep better with you, you know that?"

Eevee: The laughter that escapes her isn’t meant to be mocking but Eevee can’t help but point out the fact that Vulcan truly is an old soul. “Baby, are you Benjamin Button? Is that what’s happening here?” She shoots him a thankful smile, walking towards the drawers to borrow a comfier shirt. Upon opening one at random, she’s hit with the sight of old band tshirts she thought she’d never see again. Lifting one, she turns to face him, not counting on tears to form at how full her chest feels. “You kept these,” she hugs it close to her. “Why did you keep these?”

Vulcan: When he broke things off with Eevee, Vulcan still kept her things at his home. It was hard for him to accept during those times that she's out of his life, thinking that they would never cross paths again after her father did everything in his power to split them. There was just some form of comfort not putting her things away. Maybe part of him was hoping that they'd eventually get back together, without the interference of her father. "They kept me close to you, in a way." He looks down at his hands for a moment before looking back up at her. "Any part of you is really important to me. I--I never really stopped thinking about you, about us. I didn't--I really didn't want to leave, Eevee...."

Eevee: Eevee notices that she’s practically white knuckling the fabric. Her chest feels like it isn’t expanding right; it’s getting hard to breathe. The whole time they were apart Eevee felt like the whole relationship was a scam, that it meant more to her than to him. Seeing this now, she’s caught off balance and while she doesn’t firmly believe him on his story, she can’t deny that this means something. Wordlessly, she puts the shirt back in the drawer. It takes her a moment but she’s moving towards him, legs quickly straddling his hips, hands cupping his face so she could look at him dead on. “I haven’t stopped loving you,” is what comes out first and it surprises her but the admission comes from months of denial. “Whenever I tried to find someone —,” and with this her voice breaks. “ — no one came close. Not at all.” She offers him a shaky smile, tears free falling now. Eevee has never been one for sentiments, has always shied away from talking about what hurt, but here, with him, it feels like she owes it to herself to come to terms with it. “I didn’t even hate you for what you did. I couldn’t. I had to talk myself out of begging you back so many fucking times.” Those were the bad days, the ones where alcohol couldn’t numb the pain and the drugs did nothing but remind her that she no longer had someone that gave her a natural high. “I love you, Vulcan. As stupid as it is, as scary as it fucking is, I love you.” She looks away from a moment, tries to blink away the moisture. “At one point I thought I was going to marry you.” Her head shakes at the memory but she manages to focus her attention back to him. “A lot has changed. But what I’m sure of — the only fucking thing I’m sure of — is that my feelings for you haven’t.”

Vulcan: The day he broke it off with Eevee, Vulcan was in a level of this excruciating pain that nothing could ever take it away. He drowned himself with work at the repair shop and the underground fight club--God, that fight club. He got so much into his fight that day they broke up that he ended up being concussed after the fight and managed (or tried to) to take care of himself for at least two weeks. Nothing could ever take that pain away, even a part of him tried to look for something worse that it. "I...I was in a downward spiral after that." He couldn't tell her about his night job, at least not yet. That was something they're bound to talk about later on. "I wanted to take it back, I wanted to....to get you back. But I was terrified. I'm still terrified, Eevee. But I can't live this life without you anymore." He rests his forehead against hers, wiping her tears away. He doesn't even realize a few tears escaping his eyes. "I love you, Eevee. I--I never stopped loving you." He admits. He cannot imagine spend the rest of his life with anyone else. "I don't want to be away from you, not anymore. You're the only one I need, Evelyn Carmichael."

Eevee: Forehead against her own, Eevee lets his words wash over her. There’s nothing else they could do about it. The year has passed, they’ve been separated and now, the only option is to find their footing once again. “Vulcan Ellis, you won’t ever lose me,” she presses the words onto his lips like a promise. The sea salt taste of tears remind her of their state and so she pulls back to wipe his tears the way he did with hers. “Fuck we’re such simps,” she lets out a shaky laugh. “We’ll be fine, V. Whatever happens, we’ll be fine.” She looks back towards the drawers, head tilt in curiosity at just what else he’s managed to keep. He’s braver than her, she figures. She couldn’t have anything that’s set as a reminder of what they were without reaching for he nearest bottle. Sighing, she pushes herself off of the man, legs shaky as they were pressed against the bed the whole time. She pulls her camisole over her head, goes to get the shirt she found, and puts it on. Eevee pushes V back onto the mattress so she can lay on his side, head on his chest. “Hey,” she pokes his cheek. The night feels lighter; she feels lighter. “You should go to sleep. You still have work tomorrow.”

Vulcan: Vulcan only realized that he was also crying when Eevee did the same, wiping his tears away. "So you admit it now, baby? You're a simp too?" Vulcan grins playfully, teasing the other in attempt to lighten the mood. "We'll be fine..." He takes her hand and kisses the tattoo once more, looking at her lovingly. He never thought he'd be able to have her close like this ever again. But seeing her for the first time in a year at Landon's apartment....That's when he realized he should've fought for her from the very start. He watched the musician walk up to his closet with a smile, changing into a shirt he's never seen her in forever before he was pushed back into his bed, his arm finding its way around her shoulder, holding her close. "As long as I get to wake up with you?"

Eevee: Eevee rolls her eyes at his attempt but she humors him anyway. "I never said that. You're the simp. Don't get it twisted here." Heart flutters at the lips on her tattoo, the small act of which meaning more than he would ever know. She was warned that getting something permanent about another person was a foolish endeavor and was proven so when he left, but after a while, she grew to accept that no matter what, Vulcan has and always will be an important part of her life under any ciruc,stance. Nuzzling in close, she lets herself relax in his arms, content in a way that she's too terrified to think too much about. "We both know you're the one that's going to wake up first, you oldie, so yes, you get to wake up with me," she points out. "Now go to sleep. You have work in the morning." // END

#eevee * / discord threads .#eevee * / & vulcan .

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

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Rick In The Water; Ch4: Pornostartrek

Summary: W H E R E A R E Y O U ?

A/N: Awwww, shit, who wants some Rick POV? Is it you? Cuz that's what you're getting! What's that? You also want Rick to fight against feelings? GUESS WHAT I HAVE FOR YOU THEN. ehehehehehehe. CW: Discussions of death, suicide and all manner of death Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 5329

My ao3

Masterlist

|Ch3: Neon Moon|

I woke up one morning, two weeks after being dosed with truth serum, to Ryan sitting with his back to me, rocking back and forth slowly. I desperately wanted to just roll back over, to just ignore him and go back to sleep but he caught me before I had the chance.

“(Y/N), we need to talk,” he said sadly, and my stomach dropped. My mind raced with whatever I could’ve possibly done to upset him. Sure I’d been spending most of my time hanging out in Rick’s garage, but with my entire day open ever since my salon had to let me go, what else was I supposed to do with my time? Nevermind the fact that I was becoming just as addicted to his presence as he had admitted being about mine, as though his admission made it okay.

“Uh, okay. What’s up?” I asked as casually as I could. I sat up, pulling the blanket up to cover my naked form to give him my full attention as he stood up and started pacing the room.

“Are, are you happy being married to me?” His voice was raw as he spoke. “You’re just never home, and when you are, you’re so distant. I’m starting to think you don’t love me anymore.”

I went into panic mode, prepping myself with my finger on the metaphorical trigger of Rick’s panic button. Was this finally the time? Was this going to be when he snaps? “Of course I love you, Ryan,” I murmured, but as soon as the words left my lips, I knew they weren’t true. I hadn’t loved him for a long time and no amount of mental dampening would ever change that. Unfortunately, judging by the look on his face, he was coming to a similar conclusion.

He never got the chance to try to confirm his fears as a portal opened up in our bedroom, Rick stepping through, looking at me frantically.

“Nova! Nova, I need you to come with me!” he pleaded, grabbing me by my wrist and pulling me up from my bed and toward the glowing green orb.

“W-wait Rick! Where are we going?” I demanded, yanking my arm out of his grasp to cover my now exposed nude form. He gave a frustrated groan, averting his gaze.

“L-look, something’s not right with Morty! I just need your help.” he explained, annoyance seeping into his panic.

“And you were going to drag me off to help him in the fucking nude?” I asked hysterically as I started digging into my closet, looking for something to return my dignity.

“Is Morty okay Rick?” Ryan asked, his voice dripping with concern. I pulled on a pair of sweats and a tee-shirt, slipping on my trusty running shoes,

“He’s not going to be if Nova doesn’t hurry the hell up,” Rick said, panic taking over his voice again as he watched the window nervously.

“I’m here,” I announced. “I’m ready, let’s go.”

I followed him to the portal, sparing a glance to Ryan who watched sadly as I disappeared through it. I knew that conversation wouldn’t stay unfinished, but at least for now, I wouldn’t have to deal with it.

The portal dropped us into a small apartment, with Morty nowhere to be seen. I scanned the room, quickly realizing this was a den of a man who had all but given up. Old take-out tins littered the floor, mixed in with crushed beer cans and trashed gadgets. The room was dimly lit, making it hard to decipher much of the filth spread across the room, but I could make out a picture resting on a filthy pillow on an even filthier couch. I squinted, attempting to make it out but try as I may I couldn’t see anything other than a feminine figure.

“W-where’s Morty?” I asked nervously, but Rick’s face no longer wore a look of panic. Instead, a watery smile was spreading across his face as he gazed lovingly down at me before pressing his mouth to mine, kissing me desperately. I pulled away, shocked at the brazen assault.

“I missed you so much Nova; I thought I would never see you again,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.

“M-Missed me?” I sputtered, pulling away from the desperate man in front of me. “Rick I just saw you yesterday. Circling back, what the fuck was that kiss?”

He looked at me with sadness in his eyes as he started pacing. “Goddammit,” he swore in frustration. “I just, I was hoping you and your Rick would’ve crossed that bridge by now,” he rambled, wringing his hands together.

“ My Rick?” I demanded, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Nova, I’m sorry,” he raised his hand to my face, his wrist opening up to expose a small aerosol can. It sprayed mere inches away from my face, making my head spin. “I’ll explain, I promise. Just not right now.”

And everything went dark.

+Rick+

Where in the hell was Nova? Usually, when I saw Dipshit’s car pulling out of the driveway, she popped up like clockwork. I wracked my mind, thinking of something I could’ve done to upset her, and while there was more of a list than I’d like to admit none of it wasn’t recent or offensive enough to earn me her version of the silent treatment.

Maybe she had laundry to do or something. She’ll be here eventually.

I turned back to my workbench, going back to the atomic speaker I had been working on, but I couldn’t quite focus. I had felt the alarm from rubbing her panic button, but it had been one of the many comfort alerts, nothing that would signify something was wrong.

If she wasn’t here in an hour, I was going to go check on her.

*+*

Ok. where the fuck is she?

I stormed up to the house, preparing to give her a piece of my mind for making me worry about her. Sure, I had only waited forty-five minutes, but my brain decided to take me down the dangerous path of immediately jumping to the conclusion that Ryan had done something to her. I rapped on the door, peeking into the windows as I tapped my foot impatiently. Her car was still in the driveway, she had to be home.

Thirty seconds.

A minute.

My mind raced with images of her being knocked out, hurt or god forbid dead. I pulled out my portal gun, opening one to her room and stepping into it. There didn’t seem to be any signs of a struggle, but her phone was still on her bedside table. That was… weird. I sat down on her bed, turning the screen on to find a text from Ryan.

“I hope everything’s okay with Morty, we’ll have to pick up where we left off when you get back. I love you.” My nose wrinkled in disgust at the message as I tossed it back onto her bed, but its importance wasn’t lost on me.

“I hope everything’s okay with Morty.”

The fuck did that mean?

I opened another portal, this time into Morty’s bedroom. Summer meant the kid was still sleeping, so I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him violently. He awoke with a horrified gasp as I glared down at him.

“Wh-where in the fuck is Nova?” I asked him urgently. Shit man, dial it back. She was probably fine.

Right?

“I-I-I don’t know?” he exclaimed, confused. “I haven’t seen her since last night.”

“So you didn’t talk to her or anything? Telling her something was wrong?” I grilled him.

“N-No!”

Well, fuck me running.

“Well she’s not home, and there was a message on her phone, hoping you were okay.” I spat at him, panic starting to consume me. I pulled out my flask, taking a soothing swig from it. If I wanted to figure out what the fuck was going on, I needed to keep a steady head.

“Why were you going through Aunt Nova’s phone?” Morty asked angrily.

“Everyday, Morty, every fucking day Nova shows up after her idiot leaves for work.” I shouldn’t have to explain this. Morty knows she’s at the house almost every goddamn day. “She didn’t show up today.”

“O-okay and? She has a life, Rick,” Morty reminded me viciously, “Maybe she had other shit to do?”

“Okay, that could be true Mo-uuurp-ty.” Pausing to take another swig, I considered his response. “Then what’s up with the text message. What- how are you logicing that one out genius?”

“I don’t know, Rick! Maybe she lied to Ryan, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Except with how docile he is, she doesn’t have to,” I shot back at him. Even though Morty’s explanations made logical sense, something just didn’t feel right.

“I-I-I don’t know Rick, maybe it’s just habit at this point,” the boy grumbled, climbing out of bed and pulling on his jeans. “I’m sure she’ll be over later, th-then maybe you can act like a clingy bitch to her and not me.”

“I-I-Wha-Fuck you, Morty,” I stammered, “I was worried about her, her fucking husband happens to beat her from time to time. Or are you going to keep ignoring that like everyone else in this fucking house does? Th-th-that makes me a clingy bitch? Paying fucking attention?”

“Uh, a little bit Rick?” He glanced over at his clock. “Ryan’s only been gone for an hour. You’re in full-tilt panic mode a-a-after an hour? Plus, if your mental dampener is working so well, why are you freaking the fuck out?”

“I said it wouldn’t work forever Morty,” I spat at him. “I-if his internalized, repressed rage becomes too much for it to handle, i-it’ll short out and it’s all going to come out at once.”

He didn’t respond, so I followed the boy out into the kitchen, letting my mind go wild with potential scenarios. Beth entered after us, an annoyed look on her face as she read a message on her phone.

“Dad, could you not be portalling into Nova’s bedroom?” she sighed, ”Ryan just texted me to ask, he said you scared the shit out of them.” She rolled her eyes as she tossed her phone on the counter. “What were you doing over there anyway?”

“I-I wasn’t there? At least, not when Ryan was,” I assured her. “I went over there looking for her, but she wasn’t there.” Her phone buzzed again and she sighed as she picked it up to read the new message.

“Well, yeah, he said you showed up, freaking out about Morty and disappeared with Nova,” Beth quickly looked her son over. “What’s wrong with Morty?”

Oh, fuck me.

*+*

“I fucking told you, Morty!” I shouted, dragging him behind me into the garage after assuring Beth her son was just fine, for now anyway. “How many times are you going to doubt my judgment?”

“When you stop being completely erratic,” he mumbled. “L-look, clearly one of the other Rick’s kidnapped Nova. Do- do you think it’s because they want something from you?”

“Yeah, and they’ve already got it,” I growled as I opened the small metal cabinet I kept all of my anti-Rick technology. Fuck, I didn’t want to have to explain this to Morty. Jesus Christ this was going to be awkward.

“Th-There are some Rick’s- on the citadel Morty- that developed a romantic relationship with Nova. Those Rick’s lo- care about their Nova’s like they’re the physical embodiment of a Blips and Chitz or something.” Attaboy Rick, compare her to an overpriced fucking arcade, that’s what she deserves. “So either you’re right, and they’re holding her for ransom, which would probably be an easy fix or some heartbroken stupid ass Rick lost his Nova and came for ours. And that asshole is no-uuurp-ot gonna wanna let her go.”

Morty processed a moment, before a look of confusion passed over his face. “I-I didn’t see any Nova’s at the citadel when we were there.”

“Well Morty, if you weren’t so n-narcissistically focused on yourself and all the other versions of yourself, you would’ve seen her. Sh-she was there, you just-- just had to pay attention,” I insisted. I could feel my throat tighten, her absence felt like a glaring hole in my side. I slammed the metal cabinet shut, tossing Morty an anti-Rick pistol of his own and downing the remnants of my flask before pulling out my portal gun, punching in coordinates for the citadel.

God fucking dammit.

I opened the portal to the citadel, stepping through and immediately groaning. How fucking narcissistic was I to have so fucking many statues of myself in one city? Morty hopped through the portal behind me, eyes wide with wonder as he looked around, still utterly fascinated by this hellhole.

“C-come on Morty,” I ushered him past a Batman Rick and Robin Morty as we cut down a small alley, headed to the one place I did not want to go.

The Council.

I gave the Rick at the front desk a brief rundown of the situation, as he typed into the computer in front of him and gave me a number. Seventy-seven of… thirty. Fucking bureaucratic nonsense. This was going to take forever. I refilled my flask at a complimentary cooler, taking a swig. Ah, the space equivalent to vodka. It had been awhile. I paced back and forth as we waited… and waited… and waited.

What was happening to Nova? Was she okay? What the fuck was the fuckwad doing to her? Jesus Christ, when did I become such a fucking baby?

Thirty-one.

Thirty-two.

It had been half an hour and only two Ricks had gone in front of the council. Why wasn’t this a higher priority? Didn’t those assholes have a Nova of their own? They didn’t deserve her if they did.

Thirty-three.

Thirty-four.

Another thirty minutes. At this rate, if the Rick that took her was going to do anything to her, he’d already would’ve had time to wine and dine her. Would she know it wasn’t me? I mean, there was no way for her to tell if he didn’t tell her himself.

Thirty-five.

Thirty-si-

Fuck this.

I barged in front of Number Thirty-Six Rick, dragging my Morty behind me as forced my way into the Council Hall. “The fuck are you doing?” Thirty-Six Rick shouted at me.

“Wh-whatever parking ticket you got will have to wait,” I told him angrily. He followed me into the hall, the five Ricks sneering down at us.

“Rick N-682, to what do we owe the honor?” Riq IV asked smugly. “Rick J-384, we’ll be with you in just a moment. return to the waiting room.” Rick J-384 started to argue, earning him a one-way ticket out of the hall, courtesy of the Soldier Rick stationed by the door.

“You assholes owe me after that Evil Rick shit,” I started viciously.

“You got your one free Morty coupon N-682,” Rick Prime shot down at us. “What more do you want?!”

“SomeRick came to my dimension and kidnapped the Nova from it.” My heart raced as the Ricks started murmuring back and forth, some wearing actual looks of distress.

“When did your Nova go missing? What is your relationship status with her?” Riq IV asked finally, his tone significantly less venomous than before.

“Sh-She’s my neighbor. Spends a lot of time around m-my house.” I did fucking not want to get all in my confusing fucking feelings about her with this asshole. “She’s one of the Nova’s that married Dipshit, what’s his name, Morty?”

“Ryan.” Morty sighed.

“She married Ryan.” I spat his name out. “U-usually she shows up every morning after he leaves for work but when she didn’t show up I went to check on her and she wasn’t there.” My heart raced as I rambled. “Beth got a text from Dipshit saying I portalled into their bed-bedroom and took her because something happened to my Morty, but I was never there.”

“Y-You let your Nova marry that fuckwad?” Quantum Rick asked furiously.

“I-I didn’t have much choice. I wasn’t around when that happened,” I admitted. “A-anyway, that’s not important. What’s important is someRick took her for Rick knows what reason and I have no idea where she could be.”

“Alright N-682,” Riq IV mediated, “Computer! Bring up reported Nova d-deaths in the past six months.” The huge screen to the right lit up with images of beaten Novas, apparently taken out by their Ryans, a Nova that was smashed in a car accident and countless other heart-wrenching scenarios.

“Wh-what the fuck are you Ricks doing to your Nova’s?” I blurted out, horrified at the images I was presented with. Morty covered his eyes next to me, unwilling to see his beloved Aunts in such horrendous situations.

“What is the likelihood of your Nova not knowing the Rick she’s with is not you?” Riq IV asked, pointedly not looking at the screen himself.

“H-How am I supposed to know? I don’t know what the asshole is doing with her!”

“Computer! What Ricks did the d-deceased Nova’s belong to?” A list of Ricks appeared on the screen, along with the cause of death associated. “Computer, run a filter for Ricks who’s Novas were killed unexpectedly but also romantically attached.” The list shortened considerably, only four Rick’s remaining on the screen. The computer printed out the list for Riq IV who looked it over before passing it down to me. “Here’s a start N-682. Two of these Rick’s live here on the citadel, the other two in their own dimensions. Keep us updated on your findings. Good luck.” I grabbed the list out of his hand, opening a portal to head to the first Rick.

*+*

“Y-Ya know Rick, seeing Au-Aunt Nova like that…” Morty trailed off as stepped through the portal to the first Rick on the list’s home on the citadel.

“It fucking sucks doesn’t it.” I hissed at him, unwilling to sort out how that might be traumatizing the kid,

“M-maybe it is good you did make that dampener,” he murmured. Ah, he was starting to see sense. It’s about fucking time.

“W-Well yeah. Like I said, I’m not the biggest fan of domestic abuse,” I relented.

“Oh give it up Rick, I saw your face too when those d-dead Novas came up on the screen,” Morty chided. “Y-Y-You looked fucked up too.”

“Wh-what do you want from me, Morty?” I asked venomously, stopping at the stoop of the small house.

“You care about Nova. M-m-more than you’re willing to admit,” he probed viciously,

“Wh-Whate-*uuurp*ver you say, Morty,” I dismissed, ending the conversation with an urgent knock on the door. Morty conceded but still eyed me smugly.

What in the hell did he want from me? Nova mattered to me, sure, but he was making it out to be way more than it was. Sure, I liked having her around, but if worst comes to worst I could just go get another Nova, they were just as replaceable as Mortys. Or Jerrys. Or hell, Beths.

Goddamn, you’re full of shit old man.

The door opened and a solemn-looking Rick greeted us disdainfully. I resisted the urge to blow past him and scream Nova’s name, hoping she would reply. Emotional thinking like that would only get us killed. Instead, I had to lie. But, hey, I was good at that, I lie to myself every goddamn day.

“Hi, we’re here on behalf of the council, may we come in?” I asked, putting on a very professional front.

“Wh-what do you assholes want?” he grunted in response.

“Just a moment of your time Rick,” I glanced down to the paper Riq IV gave us, “T-394. Just some routine questioning. In and out.” He relented us, leading us through his dingy home. My eyes scanned every room we passed, falling on a picture of this Rick and his Nova. It was obvious she had been the one to take the picture, judging by the irritated look on his face. T-394 noticed my pause and turned to look at me.

“She died a couple of months ago. Car accident on the citadel,” he explained thickly. “What did you want?”

“M-My Nova just went missing,” I admitted softly, before shaking my head and clearing my throat. “We were wondering if you had heard anything about anyone kidnapping Novas.”

“Why in the hell didn’t I think of that?” T-394 said, irritated. “Look, no. My Nova was the only person I’ve met that was even remotely irreplaceable. Besides, Ricks don’t let them go willingly. And for the Novas that never met their Rick, those are few and far between at this point.”

“The Novas that didn’t meet their Rick?” Morty asked.

“Most of the time, Nova ends up hanging around with Beth but there are a scarce few whose parents moved them across the country or Beth and Nova just weren’t friends. Rick’s that lost their Novas used to go after them, trying to rekindle the relationship but it doesn’t always work,” I explained, exasperated.

“How’d you lose her anyway? Are you sure she didn’t just run away? Some Novas do that you know,” T-394 scoffed.

“She didn’t- Nova didn’t fucking run away you dick,” I bit back, “Some fucking Rick appeared acting like he was me and said something was wrong with Morty so she went with him.” T-394 nodded but didn’t speak. “If I come back here, after going through all these other Ricks and she’s here, I’m going to kill you, you know that right?”

“You’d kill me if she was here right now anyway,” he retorted, unfazed. “I’ve dealt with my Nova dying. I moved on.” The look on his face, however, completely refuted his claims.

“Yeah, whatever you say. You better hope I don’t have to come back here,” I threatened darkly, pulling out my portal gun, pressing in the coordinates to the next Rick.

“Oh, fuck me, buddy.”

“Yeah, fuck you.”

*+*

The next Rick lived in a high rise in the city. Morty and I took the elevator to the top floor, ignoring all of the Rick bums sitting outside on the street.

“H-How are there Rick Bums? Aren’t they smart enough to just leave and go back to their dimension?” Morty asked.

“Life on the citadel is preferable for most Ricks, but some have a hard time making a life here. L-look, I’m not here to teach you ethics, Morty. Figure it out on your own,” I told him harshly.

“Jeez Rick, if this Rick that has Aunt Nova is in love with her or whatever, isn’t she gonna be okay?” Morty shot back.

“Yeah, that’s if Nova doesn’t fight back or do anything that could possibly be construed as an escape attempt.” My heart was racing again, and I quickened my step at the thought. “We don’t know anything about this Rick, Morty. He could be a fucking psychopath.” We approached the door, knocking urgently. The Rick that answered had long blue hair, and instead of the usual Rick attire, wore a long Hugh Hefner-esque cigarette jacket and lounge pants. Ugh, the upper-class Ricks were the fucking worst.

“The fuck do you want middle-class Rick?” he barked from the doorway.

I took a deep breath, trying to control my temper as I went with the same line from before. “We’re with the council of Ricks, may we have a moment of your time?”

“Fuck off. The council knows not to bother me,” he dismissed, moving to slam the door in my face. “You’re not from the council.”

I caught the door with my hand before pushing my way in. “No, I’m fucking not but someone fucking took my Nova and I am going to find out who one way or another.” Hugh Hefner Rick stepped back in shock, clearly not used to people standing up to him. He sighed, allowing Morty to follow us into his disgustingly decadent apartment. Long mirrors hung from the walls in a horrendous display of vanity, along with an advertising standee for Jerryboree. “Wa-Wait, you’re the Rick that came up with Jerryboree? I-I don’t give praise often, but that was ingenious.”

Hefner Rick shrugged, glancing over at the standee with irritation. “Y-yeah, bigger headache than I anticipated.” He walked over to a small stand with crystal bottles of various sizes and poured himself a drink. “Now what’s this about your Nova being kidnapped? How the fuck did you let that happen?”

“I-I didn’t let anything happen,” I roared. I was really getting tired of having to explain this over and over. “SomeRick came into her house, pretending to be me, told her something about Morty being sick, or hurt or fucked up or something and she went with him.”

“A-And you think I had something to do with that? My Nova died from an overdose,” he said flatly. A horrified look formed on my face and he continued, “This life ain’t for everyone. I can’t have someone that can’t hang holding me back,” he shrugged again, lighting a fury within me.

“Oh, so you’re one of those Ricks,” I challenged him, completely disgusted. Morty looked between the two of us, looking confused so I elaborated. “Most Ricks lo- care about their Novas, but then you have these assholes who use them and throw them away like garbage.” Venomous hatred was coursing through me as the Rick in front of me made no attempts to defend himself. He knew what he was.

“It is what it is,” Hefner Rick confirmed nonchalantly.

“Let’s get out of here Morty,” I spat at the other Rick one last time before opening a portal back downstairs on the street. I paced angrily once it was closed behind me. Morty watched me cautiously, trying to think of the right thing to say.

“R-Rick, we should probably get to the next one,” he said in what I assumed was an attempt at a comforting tone.

“Fucking dick. H-How do you just let someone like her just fucking die like that?” I shouted, drawing attention from the other Ricks and Mortys passing us on the street. “She deserves better than that. There are Ricks that would kill, o-or kidnap to have a Nova in their life. And he just- he fucking let her die? I should go back up there and kill him myself.” Ricks and Mortys were stopped in their tracks, as Morty pulled the paper out of my pocket, looking at the next destination. I let him pull the portal gun out of my pocket as he fumbled to punch in the coordinates.

*+*

As we appeared in this dimension, we were immediately greeted with its resident Rick and Morty. They eyed us suspiciously as I glared down at Morty.

“You’re not supposed to portal directly into a Rick’s garage,” I chastised him before looking back up to the Rick. “Rick U-679, I’m Rick N-682, I just had a couple of questions for you,” I told him, dropping all pretenses of the council. I was running out of time.

“I don’t have anything to say to you fucks,” he growled back at me.

“Your Nova died not too long ago,” I posited, ignoring his slight.

“Yeah, what of it?” he asked defensively.

“My Nova was just kidnapped and I wanted to know if that would be something you knew anything about,” I accused. It was either him, or the last Rick and my patience was running thin.

“I haven’t left the house in weeks. My Morty can tell you,” Rick dismissed, turning around with a wave of his hand. This dimension’s Morty nodded, rolling his eyes.

“He really hasn’t. Ever since Nova died he’s been hyper-focused on trying to figure out how to resurrect her,” this Morty explained,“We’ve even got her corpse downsta-”

“Shut the fuck up Morty,” U-679 shouted, delivering a blow to the back of his Morty’s head. “Look, I want my Nova back, I don’t want some fucking hand me down that doesn’t know me from the Rick she knew. Now, get the fuck out of my dimension,” he snapped.

I opened my mouth to continue, but Morty U-679 shook his head fervently. I rolled my eyes, portalling back to the citadel.

“This last guy, W-358 must be the guy Morty. Are you ready to fuck this asshole up?” I asked, pulling out my laser pistol, checking to make sure it was working properly.

“D-Do we have to kill him?” Morty asked hesitantly.

“For all the headache I’ve had to go through, yeah, I’d say we have to kill him,” I assured him darkly.

“It’s just- aw jeez Rick seeing those two Rick’s who lost their Novas, it seems like they were just hurting,” he reasoned, rubbing his hands together nervously.

“I fail to see how that’s my problem, Morty. It’s simple. You don’t steal from another Rick.”

“I-Is that all Aunt Nova is to you? A possession?” Morty accused me. I stopped my inspection to look at him, narrowing my eyes at him as I spoke with as evenly as possible.

“Of course not Morty,” I fumed, “Y-You just don’t get it, Morty.”

“No, you don’t get it, Rick,” Morty argued back. “You c-care about Aunt Nova. Why can’t you just admit to it?”

“I-I already did?” I shook my head at him, going back to my pistol.

“Y-Yeah, you try to make everyone think she’s just something of yours with your ‘my Nova’ this and ‘my Nova’ that, but you are going insane not having her here. I can see it on your face and in your rage about how that rich Rick, as you said, threw her away like garbage,” he ranted.

“L-Let’s just get your Aunt back okay?” I said dismissively, stowing my pistol back into its holster. “You can get all worked over feelings and shit when she’s safe.” I opened a portal in front of us, preparing myself for a fight as I stepped through.

Holy shit, was I unprepared for what I walked into.

Rick W-358 was perched at his workbench, slumped over the table. Oh, and his entire fucking head was disintegrated from the laser contraption secured with a metal clip to the side of the desk. Something awfully similar to the one I had at home. Jesus.

“H-Hey Rick!” This dimension’s Morty was calling from elsewhere in the house. I grabbed my Morty, pulling him out of view from the garage just as he entered the grisly scene. “Hey, Ric- HOLY SHIT,” he shouted. My Morty and I shared a glance as W-358 Morty screamed for his mom. I opened a portal, disappearing on the other side.

“H-Holy shit Rick,” Morty gasped, bending over a trash can to vomit. “H-Holy shit. Don’t you have one of those at home?” he asked me with a horrified look. “W-Were you gon- A-a-are you gonna-”

“N-No Morty!” I sputtered. “I mean, it’s there if I e-ever needed it, but I have no immediate p-plans to.”

“Jesus Christ, that poor Morty,” he lamented.

“Y-You’re missing the point, Morty. That Rick obviously didn’t take Nova,” I changed the subject, lest I end up losing my breakfast too. “So that means either one of the Ricks from before, or someRick completely different.” I sat down on a nearby bench, resting my head in my hands as feelings of hopelessness finally crashed over me.

“S-So we go back to the Council. O-Or, m-maybe you could create a device to g-go through each dimension to find her. There’s gotta be something we can do,” Morty reasoned desperately.

There was nothing Morty could say that would make me see sense, nothing. It was the gentle alarm going off in my cybernetic arm that finally washed those helpless feelings away.

Nova’s panic button was going off.

+Ch5: I Wanna Be Yours+

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #rick sanchez/reader

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moonstruckbucky · 6 years

Text

He’s Just Not That Into You (2/8)

Summary: Loosely based off the movie He’s Just Not That Into You. Fed up with waiting by the phone, the reader finds herself taking dating advice from her “serial dater” neighbor, Steve.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings for Series: Language, mentions of sex as well as full-on smut, angst, pining, some of these guys are douchebags, Steve Rogers being a douchebag (these may change as the series progresses)

Notes: I really hope this story doesn’t flop. I have fun shit planned, okay?

HJNTIY MASTERLIST

The next morning, you were woken roughly by frantic knocks on your door. Falling out of bed, you stumbled to the door, sleepily ignoring the peephole and undoing the deadbolt. You groaned when the door swung open and your neighbor, Steve, hurried inside and closed the door behind him. He leaned against, sighing in what you took to be relief.

“Steve?” you mumbled sleepily. Rubbing your eyes, you stifled a yawn. “What time is it?”

“About 5:15,” he answered, turning to look through your peephole. At his admission, you woke up a little bit more.

“5:30? Steve,” you whined. “I had another whole hour to sleep! What fucking gives?”

“Anyone tell you you’re a peach in the morning?” he snarked without looking back at you.

“Fuck you, asshole. You still didn’t answer my question. What. Gives.”

“There’s a girl in my apartment and she won’t leave. She’s one of those clingy types, you know? Clings like a goddamn koala in her sleep.”

“What the hell is she doing awake at 5:30?” Your voice trailed off as you crossed ‘more sleep’ off your list for today and headed into the kitchen to brew coffee. Steve followed, dropping into a stool at your island.

“She wanted a little wake up call I wasn’t all that willing to give.” His eyebrows raised suggestively, and you scrunched your nose.

Steve Rogers had been in the building since you moved in. Despite his slight arrogance and need to make a joke out of everything, the two of you formed a fast, unusual friendship. Movie nights weren’t spent solo anymore and he even got you into watching football—every game day you could be found in his apartment cheering on the Giants.

“You’re a pig,” you groused. “Coffee?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” He grinned when you gave him an unamused look but slid a mug to him regardless.

“You can fix your own coffee. I’m not fully functioning yet.”

“How did your date go, by the way? What was his name? Ethan? Eddie?”

“Peter?” you tried, rolling your eyes when he snapped his fingers and nodded. The fact that he hadn’t responded to your text last night almost had you frowning, but you thought better of it. He’d probably gone to bed when he got home. “It went great. I think we’re going to set up a second date. He said he’d call me.”

“He kiss ya?” There went his eyebrows into his hairline again.

You felt yourself blushing. “On the cheek.”

Steve scoffed. “What a chump. Date must’ve not gone that well if he’s kissing you on the cheek at the end of the night.”

“Some guys have class, unlike you,” you sneered.

“Uh huh. Hey, you think she’s left yet?” Steve asked before draining his coffee. Standing up from the stool, he stretched, the bottom of his sleep shirt rising to reveal a sliver of his stomach. Glancing away, you busied yourself with washing out the two mugs.

You shrugged. “Hope so. I haven’t had enough coffee to deal with you this early.”

“Wish me luck. Hey, tell me if this Peter guy calls,” Steve called by way of a goodbye. Your door clicked shut a beat later, leaving you in silence in your apartment.

“He’ll call,” you said firmly into the empty space.

You pushed the unwanted social call with Steve out of your head as you got ready for work. Peter still hadn’t responded to your text, but you managed to not think too much into it. Your coworkers dragged you into conversation, effectively keeping your mind away from both Peter and Steve.

“So, Y/N,” asked Sam, rolling left and right in his chair while he twirled a pen in his fingers. “What are you getting down to tonight? Any hot dates?”

That question caused your coworker, Wanda, to poke her head around her computer. “Speaking of dates, how did last night go?”

You smiled sheepishly, cheeks flushing a little, and she squeaked. “It went pretty well, I think. I’m hoping he asks for a second one soon. But to answer your question Sam, no I have no hot dates planned tonight.”

“Good, then you’re coming out with us. We’re overdue for a coworkers’ night out,” he exclaimed. At that, Clint reared back in his chair, bottom lip protruding in a pout, and Sam sighed. “Fine, Clint, you can come too.”

A quiet ‘woohoo’ from the man made you all snicker. Despite wanting to just go back home and curl up on your couch with a movie, you heard yourself asking where Sam had in mind for tonight.

“The Nest, I think,” he replied, a thoughtful look on his face. You frowned a little.

Steve worked at The Nest, a relatively new bar/restaurant with a climbing reputation. You weren’t exactly sure you wanted to see Steve outside your brief passing in the hallway, or whenever he needed to escape a clingy one night stand in your apartment, but Sam wasn’t giving you much of a choice.

You agreed to ride over right after work before turning back to your computer as it notified you of an email. While you typed your response, your eyes strayed to your phone, which had remained relatively silent all day. No text response from Peter, and despite your better judgment, you picked up the phone.

Thumb opening the text message app, you hesitated in typing out a message.

Hey, I didn’t hear from you last night. Hope we can meet up again soon!

Shaking your head, you erased it, typing out two more messages before finally settling on:

Hey, how is your work day going? Mine’s a drag!

Before you could rethink it, you hit ‘send’, breathing out deeply and dropping your phone back on your desk. ‘Delivered’ appeared under the text bubble, spurring your stomach to flutter anxiously. Now, the worst part, the waiting game.

By the time you shut down your computer, your phone remained silent. No word whatsoever from Peter, and the hopeful, naive part of your brain chalked it up to ‘he’s just busy’. Of course, it was the side you chose to listen to as you packed up your files and stacked them neatly on the end of your desk.

Sighing, you pushed the lack of response from Peter out of your head and leaned patiently on Wanda’s cubicle. She gave you a smile as she swung her purse onto her shoulder, and as you walked by them, Sam and Clint fell into step behind you. You chattered excitedly, stepping out to wait for the Uber Sam called for all of you. The ride over was quick despite the usual city traffic, and before you knew it the car was pulling up to the curb outside The Nest.

The bar wasn’t too crowded when your group walked in, making a beeline for a high top table close to the bar. As you stripped off your coat and hung your purse on the back of the chair, you managed to catch a glimpse of Steve as he mixed a drink for a pair of women. You looked away before he could look up, giving Sam your drink order.

You sat across from Wanda, diving into a gossip-session over your boss, and a few minutes later, Sam returned with your drinks. You took a sip, wincing at the strong bite of alcohol.

“So,” Wanda started, “did you ever ask out that girl from HR?”

The question was directed at Sam, who flushed and ducked his head. Both you and Wanda gasped.

“Don’t tell me she turned down the Sam Wilson charm?” you asked disbelievingly. It was heavily known around the office that Sam was a flirt. As a result, he’d dated a hefty portion of the employees. How he had positive working relationships with all of them still with the company was a mystery you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

“She did,” he muttered. “Didn’t even let me get halfway through before she told me she didn’t date in the workplace.”

You and Wanda shared grimaces. “Yikes, sorry, man.”

As conversation bounced between the three of you, your gaze strayed around the bar. Steve was slinging drinks, smiling at patrons, but it seemed he hadn’t noticed you yet. Your eyes moved on, your body stilling when you found a familiar, towering frame.

You felt yourself smiling as a grip stretched Peter’s face in response to something his coworker said. Excusing yourself, and without a second thought over whether or not this was a good idea, you got up from the table and began to make your way across the bar.

Steve Rogers Tag List: @casaharrington /

Marvel Tag List: @jewels2876 / @just-add-butter /

Permanent Tag List: @thephantomofthe-internet /

I’ve revamped my taglists. You can add yourself to my taglist here.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction #he's just not that into you #steve rogers smut

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our-jensen-ackles-love · 6 years

Text

Dancing In The Dark; 6.

Dean x Reader

Summary: You made a mistake last night.. you went home with a married man. A man whom you had crushed on since your first day at work, a man who you knew had secrets, a man whose wife had invited you over to dinner time and time again. So how did the two of you end up in bed last night?

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), swearing

Author’s Note: all mistakes are mine - wrote this being a little tired, so just be aware that it’s super un-beta’d.

BUY ME A KO-FI SERIES MASTERLIST FEEDBACK

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, having some alcohol in your system gave you one of the best night's sleep you had in what felt like weeks. Now waking up and even thinking about facing the world, kind of, made you want to pick up the bottle and start the process all over again.

Kicking off the sheets you seemed to have gotten tangled in, you groaned feeling like your head weighed a million pounds. “Jesus fucking christ.”

“Well good morning to you too.”

You knew he’d be there, but still the sound of his deep voice seeping through the morning silence you had been so used to caught you by surprise. “Dammit Dean.”

By the time you had gotten completely untangled and found the strength to sit yourself up enough to look over at Dean, you were ready to drink a swimming pool. The man that made you feel like you needed to check into a mental hospital was perched in the corner of your room, sitting on the swivel chair that was usually always pushed into your little desk. “I found your aspirin - so there are two right next to you.”

Glancing at your night stand you found the two little white pills and two large bottles of water. You knew that most likely Dean had snuck out before you woke up to run to the corner store for that water, which kind of made you feel only a little bit guilty for how you handled last night.

Pinching your pills in between your fingers, you brought them to your lips avoiding staring at Dean for more than a split second. “So how much did I fuck up?”

“You didn’t fuck up at all,” he answered, cocking his head to the side. “If anything, I’m the one that needs to be apologizing to you.”

“For what? Bringing your wife with you for a night on the town.”

You may have been trying to keep your eyes off him, mainly because you didn’t know the details of how the night ended - again, but even you couldn’t miss the way he winched when you said the word ‘wife.’ “Just.. I need to say sorry for lot of things.”

Not liking the way he was shifting in his seat, you forced yourself to swing your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m getting really tired of this vague thing we have going on here Winchester.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“No, I really don’t think you do.”

He was watching you closely as you stood up slowly and began rooting through one of your dresser drawers for some clean clothes to put on after the shower you had decided you would be taking in matter of minutes. Nothing was worse than waking up feeling like you need to scrub yourself clean of your sins and leftover mascara.

“I told Lisa I want a divorce.”

The tenison you had been carrying in your shoulders melted away. “You did?”

Dean’s gaze was still on you, trying to read your body language when he clicked his tongue. “Yeah. After I got you all tucked into bed, you muttered something in your sleep that really hit me.”

“Do I want to know?” You asked hesitantly, squeezing your eyes shut as you turned to where he was sitting.

He let a smirk slip through his otherwise sober expression. “You told me that I felt like home.”

Was that what he felt like to you? Was that why you became a blubbering idiot whenever he was around? Because he felt like that one person you could be safe with, the one person that you always looked ahead to seeing. Coming home was always the one thing you looked forward to at the end of the day.

Dean shifted in his seat, still keeping his eyes still trained on you as you in turn stared at him questionably. “What does that have to do with you telling Lisa that you wanted a divorce?”

“Well,” he ran a hand over his face, looking more exhausted than he had in the last week. It made you question if he had actually gotten any sleep last night. “Honestly, I guess it really clicked to me that you can’t live in a broken home - the cracks will leak and the ceiling can cave in at any given time. Even if the foundation is uneven it can cause all kinds of irreversible damage.”

You got what he was saying, but still weren’t quite sure what it had to do with you and your drunken slip of honesty. “Okay?”

His face was looking at you, but his eyes seemed to be looking in the distance. “Something about the way you looked at me at the bar, it just made me ache. You may as well have just come over and sucker punched me in the gut. And watching you down those shots like water.. because of me.. well hurt even more.”

“So, again Winchester, what does this have to do with me?”

He shook his head and shifted his eyes to look at his hands. You followed his gaze and was stunned to see that a certain finger was lacking a piece of jewelry around it. “Because it you made me realize that I made a mistake. So, I told her at the bar that this wasn’t working anymore, which was shortly before I decided to take you home.”

You took a deep breath, not really quite sure what to say. “And that didn’t look suspicious to her?”

“She stormed off before I really got another word in edgewise. Of course, as I made my way over to you was when the bartender decided to cut you off and I decided to bring you home,” he stood up from the chair this time. “I haven’t spoken to her since.”

“Dean -” you started, but you really didn’t know what to say. It was exactly what you wanted to hear, so why did your chest still feel so heavy?

The man before you just kind of gave you a lazy shrug before taking the remaining steps to get to where you were embarrassingly clutching a pair of clean panties. You didn’t miss the way he eyed the delicate piece of cloth in your hands before gently tugging them out of your grasp and tossing them onto the unmade bed. Something about the way he was looking at you made your stomach squeeze.

“I know this is a lot to take in right now,” he spoke softly, fingers interlacing with your right hand while his free one came to brush some of your bedhead away from your eyes. “Hell, this is a lot to just happen in a week, but there is something that I want you to know.”

You tone matched his as the warmth from his hands washed over your body. “What’s that?”

“I want to be with you, more than anything in the world, but you have to understand that while I’m going through all of this, we.. we can’t really be public.”

Nodding, you lifted your chin up to look at him squarely. “I’m aware of that.”

“And you would be okay with that?”

Your bottom lip wedged itself between your teeth as you silently thought through what he was asking of you. Your heart was singing at the admission of him wanting to be with you, but at the cost of everything being behind closed doors - well, that excited you and concerned you. “You.. you’d only be with me?”

Dean smirked down at you, bringing his thumb down to pull your lip away from its imprisonment. “I’d be all yours, baby girl.”

“What about your living situation?”

“I know Sid would let me crash on his couch.”

Now it was your turn to smirk at him, “Or we could just let people think that’s where you were staying.”

“Hm,” he gently pushed you backwards until you felt the cool wood of your dresser seeping through your shirt. “That might be dangerous.”

“Didn’t you once tell me that ‘danger’ was your middle name?”

His tongue snaked its way out, making the heat pool at your center as it trace the plumpness of his lower lip. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Just when you started to answer, he pushed himself into you - his lips collided into yours, followed by his hips. You knew it hadn’t been that long since you had been with him in that way, but the way his body was feeling against your had you wanting to get all kinds of sweaty with him.

Like he was able to read your mind, Dean found a way to loop his fingers under the elastic of the panties you still had on - because at some point in the night you had found a way to wiggle out of your jeans, and yanked them down towards your knees.

When you went to make the move to unbuckle him, he paused. “No, no baby, right now I want to show you just how much you mean to me.”

The quietness of his voice and the way his eyes were boring into you while he spoke those words lit your skin on fire. Giving him a silent nod, he picked you up and carefully laid you on the bed, his body hovering over yours as he began a trail of kisses from your jaw, to between your breast and down your shirt clad stomach until he was hovering just over the spot he had just exposed.

Dean paused, using the moment to glance up at your in what you took as his way of asking for your approval to which you let out a soft moan at the anticipation of it all.

“You’re such a tease,” you whispered.

He didn’t say anything, just gave you that shit eating smirk of his before his tongue made its appearance once more before it found its way into your folds, teasing you briefly by lapping at your core. The sudden change had you already writhing beneath him until he pulled back allowing himself to nip at your clit gently, sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Fuuuuck.”

That seemed to get him going as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, switching up direction and keeping you on your toes. The curse words that were escaping you certainly weren’t what Dean was used to hearing from those pretty little lips of yours, but he couldn’t get enough. The way you squirmed under his tongue was making it harder to keep himself contained in his jeans. Needing to feel just how wet you were, you were surprised when he slid a single finger inside of you, both of you groaning at how good it felt.

His lips broke away for your pulsating core causing you to groan. “Baby girl, your making it really hard not to take you right now.”

Your grip on the pillow above your head loosened to trail down and pick him up by the chin, forcing him to look at your while you spoke, “Then take me Winchester. I’m all yours.”

“Damn right you are,” he agreed, sliding himself up so that he was on his knees and yanking off his belt and slipping his jeans down just enough to pull out his thick length. He gave it a two long strokes as he stared at your half naked body below him, your wetness pooling on the sheets. “You know how I know that?”

“How?”

He lowered himself down so that he was waiting at your entrance, another glance to make sure you were comfortable with what he was doing before it was followed by the tease of him using the tip of his cock to rub where you were most sensitive; making you ache for him even more.

Without much warning, he pushed his full length into you, both of you crying out at the sudden pleasure. “Because there is no other place that I would rather be.”

Divorce, mistakes, secrets - all of that was out the window as you both got lost in each other. Lips kissed every inch of skin that they could touch, his teeth nip at the skin just above your collarbone, your bodies molded into each other so well that it was almost as if your were two puzzle pieces that just needed to be jammed into place; over and over and over again.

Until you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk for at least a week.

With one final thrust, Dean pulled himself out of you quickly while stroking himself at the speed in which he had been going before moving his hips to cover the top of your thigh with his warm release. When he had been able to get a solid breath in, he looked down at his handy work splayed out on the woman who was way too good for him.

“How about I join you for that shower?”

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#Dancing In The Dark #DINTD #dean winchester #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic

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enniewritesathing · 6 years

Text

“Dr. Summers... I think, I-I think I’m ready to talk. About Jacob. For real.”

John takes a deep breath. He promised himself to be calm about this. Dr. Summers has her notepad in her hands -- she always does -- and pen at the ready.

“Where do you want to start?” she asks.

“Uhm...” he looks down at his hands. They’re clasped together. “I... there was an essay we had to write in English class the other day. The topic was ‘who was the strongest person we know’ and write it. For extra points, we could read it outloud. I did it on Jacob and... I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t read and... I cried. I still can’t talk about him without crying.”

“What did you write in the essay?”

“I talked about... when we found out he had cancer. Stage four, uh... I can’t remember the exact name, but it was in his brain and brain stem. Brain cancer. The only reason that we didn’t know is because, he was something called asymptomatic. He didn’t have anything except a real high fever at the time. I didn’t know what cancer was. They told me... it’s when cells go bad and they spread everywhere. It sounds simple but, it’s not.

“Mom and Dad told me that Jacob’s real sick, and has to stay at the hospital for a while. I asked if I could still see him, because y’know, he’s my brother. We’re not that far off from each other; always nearby. And... at the time, I didn’t know, but it was bad. They... tried to put on a face. For me. For him. I think we all did, subconsciously.” He looks at Dr. Summers for the right usage of the word, and she nods in agreement.

“We... sat aside any thoughts that we may have had and concentrated on him getting better. There were good days... and bad days. No matter how bad it got, Jake seemed he was fine with the treatments. He wasn’t afraid or anything like that. I saw him get treated with stuff a couple of times. The nurse would talk to him and he’d respond. A joke. A short story. Anything to take his mind off of it.

“Jake... always had a smile. I think... he did that because he didn’t want us to worry about him. That he was okay. He was gonna make it. I wanted to cut off my hair off, to match him so he wouldn’t be alone. He didn’t want me to. He made me promise not to ever do that.”

“Promises to you are important,” she remarks.

John nods. “Yeah. I don’t ever break promises. Since then, I haven’t. You see how long it is. As time went on, he... didn’t get better. He had bad days more than good days. Treatments became more... experimental. He was in pain; I know because I felt it too. I got angry because of it. I even offered myself up for anything. Anything to make his pain go away. I couldn’t... protect him all. And yet, he still smiled. Only I knew... he was putting up a front. We all were. It was just a matter of when. At night, I’d listen to Mom and Dad and... ” He shakes his head. “...nothing was working. The cancer spread. The only reason he was still alive because... well, he was fighting it. When we found out, he had only a couple of months to live. He fought for a year.”

John is silent for a few moments. “The day before he died, it was his birthday. We were born on different days, at night. He was born on May 2nd. I was born May 3rd, a little after midnight. Because of that, we celebrate that weekend. Together. I, uh, had a tournament to go to. I told him about it. Asked him if I could wear his pra jiad on my right arm, since he’s right handed. I’m left handed. That way, even he’s not here physically, he’s still there with me. I told him, I’d win the belt and I’ll bring it back to him.

“I remember Jake... being weirdly quiet. That smile. But it was a type of smile that... I guess he was sad. He knew. I even told him this. He told me, he was tired. At the time, I didn’t know what that meant, but I know... he was tired of fighting. Tired of wasting away to skin, bones, and wires. Hooked up to all of those machines and montiors. Being alone. He was in pain and he just wanted it to stop. And I couldn’t -- take that away from him. I couldn’t do anything. None of us could.”

“And, the next day...”

“He died. I was in the finals. I felt funny the whole time. Something... ripped out of me. My head was swimming. I couldn’t breathe. I wasn’t steady on my feet. I got knocked out. I didn’t feel that. When I woke up, a part of me was missing. That’s when I knew... that’s when I knew he died.” John sighs and wipes away the tears. “Jake... had a seizure. His heart stopped. They tried to get him back but...”

John clasps his hands again. “They couldn’t get him back,” he says, voice breaking. “The last thing he told me... he’ll always be proud of me. That he’ll always be thankful and grateful that he’s my brother... he said goodbye without me knowing that he did.”

“Do you feel guilty that... you didn’t say what you wanted to say at the time?”

“I feel guilty because... I’m here. He isn’t. After he died, I didn’t want to live anymore. Not... necessarily kill myself, but I didn’t want to live without him. I... well, you have your notes. I was angry at him. I thought that he just... quit. No. He didn’t. His heart did stop, but it came back, but it was too weak... and... he let go.”

John pauses and closes his eyes. “Jacob... did his best.”

John stops. He’s had enough. Dr. Summers steers him away from the subject and says, “John, it’s alright.”

He nods. And nods again. He grabs some tissue and collects himself. “I only remember the bad parts. Not the good parts, but I talk about him as if he’s still alive. It’s been years. I’m almost seventeen. I... wanna... start moving on, but I can’t. I... feel like, if I do, I’ll eventually forget about him. But I can’t even do that. There’s always gonna be a part of myself that’s always going to be empty. I-I know that. Mom said... it’s time to start living my life. I mean, I got the rest of high school to worry about. College maybe. Maybe, a relationship...”

“With your essay, what did you conclude? Did you think that there were any lessons learned?”

“Like... how I act now?”

“Yes.”

John furrows his brows. “I... don’t take anything for granted anymore. I tell Mom I love her. My friend too. Be appreciative. Gratefulness. I... had to do a lot of growing up. Especially after my dad died. Mature, I guess. I’m a lot more protecting. I say what’s on my mind -- good or bad. I don’t like having things being unsaid. Not anymore. I’m... responsible. At least, I try to. All of it. It’s hard, but I’m... I’m trying. Even if it’s baby steps. I just... I don’t want to wear that mask anymore.”

“It is hard, Johnathan. And your admission, your desire to begin the healing process, is a step in the right direction. This isn’t going to be an overnight thing; it will take time. You’re not alone. Remember that. We’ll take as much time as we need to. Okay?”

“Okay.”

John waits in the waiting room. The door opens and his mother is there; she beckons him to come with her. “So, how did it go?”

The question has always been open ended -- sometimes he choses to answer, sometimes he doesn’t. John’s thoughtful in his response as he buckles his seatbelt. “I’m ready.”

“You sure?” She knows what he means.

“Yeah,” he says. “Baby steps.”

#oc: john #a text post #non sims #long post #okay so this post is all over the place!!#it's not structured that well #if i wrote this like... idk 7 years ago boy howdy teen!john would've had a lot more problems i think... an angsty boy #BUT! when i was making his backstory a little more and i thought he went through some shit sure but he got help and he has support #and continues to have support #and it's a formidable part of how he reacts and deals with things NOW #before he was getting to that breaking point #one day he just said... i gotta fix this #and that was the day #it was the proverbial untangling of a yarn ball #but yeah john got some help #and because of this he started feeling emotions he just shoved in a deep dark locker #or at least ALLOWS himself to feel them instead of like 'no i'm not dealing with this lol'#john's in touch with them again and he's not afraid to show it #sometimes he overdoes it but that's better than undershowing

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ptw30 · 6 years

Note

Hello! I, erm, don’t know if it’s too late to send a prompt, but perhaps could you write a small Shendak prompt perhaps Sendak seeing Shiro while he was with the blade, but thinking it was only and illusion? If this gets chosen, thank you! I really like your blade series, I haven’t quite seen anything else like it. Keep it crispy dude!

Sorry this took so long. I’m hoping to get through a few more Shendak prompts this week.

Warning - since I won’t be able to proof this again until Thursday, I’m posting now. I’ll give it another read later in the week and clean up the typos.

Thanks and hope you enjoy! :)

A part of the Blade!Shiro series.

The maroon and black racing jacket was at least three sizes too big and hung off of Takashi’s slender frame. Takashi kept the collar up, his stormy eyes just peeking over the leather trim when vicious winds tore through the skyway station in Drule Central.

Sendak always wanted to push the collar down and capture those chapped lips in a heated embrace. Instead, he coaxed Takashi against him, arms slipping behind the younger man’s back and rubbing firmly.

“Better?”

Takashi nodded, face buried in the front of Sendak’s sweater. “You sure it’s okay to be out?”

Sendak heard the “with you” Takashi omitted.

“I asked you to come.”

“But - “

“Keith is safe at home, Takashi. My lieutenant is watching the boy.”

“But - “

“Let’s enjoy the night.”

The skyway train pulled into the station, whipping air violently about their bodies. Takashi pressed closer, face still lowered so he couldn’t see Sendak’s indulgent smile.

Once the wind slowed to a breeze, Sendak’s hands dragged down Takashi’s arms and folded their fingers together.

“One dinner. Maybe dessert, then we’ll go home.”

Takashi sighed but didn’t protest getting on the train. He glanced about the car, eyes lingering on the taller Galrans, but the jacket marked Takashi as his, almost as well as a mating mark would. With Sendak’s scent upon him, any Galrans within a few feet would know Takashi belonged to him.

“Sendak…” Takashi asked, tentative. Those eyes once more peeked up over the collar. “…are we on a date?”

Sendak didn’t hesitate this time. He tugged the collar down, seized those lips, and allowed that to serve as his answer.

One Decaphoeb Later

The commanders’ quarters kept a tomb-like silence. Most only visited their chambers in Drule Central during audiences with Emperor Zarkon. Commanders like Ranveig, who made their careers expanding the empire’s footprint, barely made the long journey every five decaphoebs. Sendak, as Zarkon’s most prized commander, visited his own quarters almost once a phoeb.

The elevator hummed; the doors slammed open. Sendak took the hallway in stride, his boot falls the only sound. It was perhaps the only reason he heard the quiet ruffling in his bedroom when he entered his quarters.

It wouldn’t be the first time he heard the noise, and it immediately took him back to not-so-quiet nights when Takashi lingered in bed. Sendak generally rose early for his morning workout and meetings, leaving his thoroughly exhausted but completely delectable lover heavy-limbed and snoring soundly. Sendak sometimes lifted the covers to take with him the memory of his lover’s smooth curves and defined lines.

But Takashi, a staple of Sendak’s time in Drule Central, remained missing. A phoeb turned into a decaphoeb, and Sendak began to wonder what happened to his mate. Anger gave way to regret. Takashi should have understood the implications of the scar across his face, accepted his place at Sendak’s side, and began to join him for empire functions. Little Keith could receive a proper education, and with his Galran features, no one would ever know he was a half-breed.

It was the best-case scenario for a lower lifeform and his charge. How could Takashi not have seen this?

Perhaps if Sendak had asked Takashi to stay rather than marking him. Perhaps if he explained how much he enjoyed the tiny smiles Takashi afforded him, the warmth he lent Sendak’s bed, and the comfort his presence gave.

Sendak looked forward to seeing Takashi’s eyes squint against the morning light and then relax when he caught sight of Sendak. Sendak had wanted to start every morning the same way. He wanted a lifetime with Takashi. He’d wanted to mate Takashi, and perhaps at one time, he could have.

Simple requests, gentle admissions. That was how Sendak fostered their relationship. But perhaps what Sendak saw as indulgence - asking what Takashi wanted rather than demanding, learning Takashi’s preferences in and out of bed, remembering the way Takashi took his coffee - was the way to ask a lover to become a mate.

He’d only asked rather than taken.

He failed on so many levels, and without any sign of Takashi - in Drule Central or any of the Galra-occupied planets - Sendak needed to accept the truth.

Takashi was gone.

Or so he thought, until Sendak stood at the entryway to his bedroom, staring at the lithe figure by his closet door.

It was not possible.

It just wasn’t.

Takashi looked equally as surprised, eyes wide, mouth agape. Dressed in a black suit with glowing purple lines across his chest, a dark hood cradling his hair, Takashi held the maroon and black jacket that he wore on the nights Sendak coaxed him out of the apartment.

Takashi held onto the left sleeve, where he dripped chocolate sauce from a dessert they once shared, and no matter how many times Sendak had brought it to the launder, the Galran couldn’t get it completely clean.

Sendak opened his mouth and thought he might have whispered Takashi’s name. It was so low, even he couldn’t hear it.

But Takashi must have heard it. A blink, silent footfalls, and Takashi leapt out of Sendak’s window, jacket and all.

Sendak rushed to the open window and looked down, but Takashi was gone. Again.

Had he ever been there, or was Sendak imaging things?

A drink, then two, and Sendak eventually passed out across his bed. When he woke up, he stumbled into the closet to find the jacket returned - or maybe it had always been there.

Perhaps Takashi was dead and took to haunting Sendak. Somehow, it comforted the commander to think his one-time lover was near to him, even in the afterlife.

On a whim, Sendak checked the jacket’s left sleeve.

Hm. The launder had finally gotten the stain out, but that didn’t explain why there was a price tag attached to his three-decaphoeb old jacket.

The End

#voltron #shendak #shiro #sendak #blade!shiro #I'm just here for the furry rarepairs #answered #anon #ptw30 pens

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tsfanart · 6 years

Text

Movie Night, Part 4/5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 ... Part 5

The next morning, Logan woke up in his bed, and immediately the events of the night before came back to him. He groaned and rolled over, and immediately saw Patton looking over at him. Logan raised his eyebrows expectantly, and Patton sighed.

"Virgil [AND] I talked a little last night," he began.

"Oh, and how did that go?"

Patton pulled his chair over a little closer to the bed. "Roman's [HURT] still, but Virgil convinced him that he had his own apologizing to do, so he agreed to meet with you sometime today."

Logan sat up and nodded. "I guess that's fair. Do [YOU] know what time he said worked best for him?"

Patton nodded. "At ten, I think, which is...oh, which is any minute now, actually!" he said, startled.

Logan got out of bed. "Well, [WE’VE] gotta get going then, don't we?"

"I guess so, yeah."

Logan sighed and got dressed quickly, and then he and Patton headed out towards the others' room.

"I've [KNOWN] the anatomy of an apology since kindergarten," Logan said aloud as they walked down the stairs. "Say I'm sorry and that it won't happen again, and offer to do what I can to make things better. Ensure [EACH] of us is on the same page." He turned to face Patton. "That's all this is, right?"

Patton shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, [OTHER] than trying not to make excuses, sure. But I don't think you have to approach it as some sort of formula," he pointed out, softening a little. "Go [FOR] being sincere, you know?"

Logan gave a quivering sigh and hunched his shoulders as they reached Roman and Virgil's floor and started down the hall.

"And don't overthink it too much," Patton went on, hand on Logan's shoulder. "It's [SO] easy sometimes to get lost in your head, and I get that, but Roman's just a person--just like you are."

"Yeah."

They had reached the door. Logan stared it up and down a few times as if it were a lion he was taming. He stared down at the doorknob and rubbed his arm, but jumped as Patton's voice pulled him out of his head.

"How [LONG] were you planning on standing there, exactly?" came his roommate's good-natured whisper. Logan grit his teeth sheepishly and knocked on the door.

Virgil opened the door seconds later, looking cheerful. "Oh, hey guys! How's [YOUR] morning so far? Did you sleep well and everything?" The questions were addressed to both of them, but he was looking at Logan in particular.

Patton spoke up. "His [HEART’S] been racing long enough, maybe we should just get this over with."

Virgil gave an understanding nod. "Okay, that's fair." He pulled back a little and faced Logan again. "Roman's [BEEN] up for a while now; he just left to get a snack, but he should be back any minute. Are you okay with waiting around here until then?"

Logan nodded shyly, and Virgil stepped aside to let him in. Then he turned back to Patton.

"I'm [ACHING] to get something to eat soon. Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked, a bit too emphatically. Logan rolled his eyes a little, but couldn't help smiling.

"No, [BUT] I wouldn't object to having some now!" he replied just as pointedly. "We'll see you later, alright, Logan?" He patted Logan's shoulder and left with Virgil for the dining hall.

Logan stood around in Virgil and Roman's empty dorm room, wondering if he should sit down. He looked around and stood in the center of the room, concerned more than anything with staying out of trouble.

At long last, Roman returned with a candy bar he'd gotten from the vending machine. He took notice of Logan and stopped short.

"Oh...[YOU’RE] here already," he said plainly.

Logan looked down at himself, and looked back up at Roman with a sneer. "I guess I am, aren't I? That [TOO] annoying for you?"

"You know, you don't need to broadcast to the world that you know everything," Roman snapped, closing the door behind them. He sat down in his desk chair and looked off to the side.

"I'm [SHY] enough around here as it is, okay?" he went on. "I just thought inviting those two guys from upstairs to a movie night with my roommate would be a good way to meet new people." He looked up at Logan. "But [TO] be reminded nearly right off the bat that I'm childish and immature because I like kids movies was not what I was looking for."

Logan looked away sadly, and Roman pointed wordlessly at Virgil's chair. Logan reluctantly sat down in it.

"Listen," Roman continued a bit more softly, I really am sorry for calling you out the way I did; it was uncalled for and it just made everyone uncomfortable, and I should have found a better way to put it. I'll [SAY] I'm sorry for that--truthfully. But I also need you to understand where I'm coming from."

Logan nodded, and Roman looked at him expectantly.

"Now [IT] would be your turn to talk, I believe."

Logan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I suppose I'm confused as to what you mean when you say that you're shy," he began. "I'm [INSIDE] my dorm room each weekend doing homework while you're out hanging with all your new friends like everyone else."

Suddenly, Roman hardened again. "Um, and who exactly are these new friends you speak of?"

Logan rolled his eyes. "C'mon, [WE] both know what I'm talking about. I see people wave to you in passing all the time. Frankly [BOTH] students and teachers seem to like you quite a bit."

Roman leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Wow, we really live on different planets here, don't we?" Logan shot him a puzzled look, so he continued. "I [KNOW] you and Patton and Virgil so far--that's it. And sure, people talk to me, but that doesn't mean I know how to talk to them."

That last sentence gave Logan pause. Someone else...knew how it felt to not know how to hold a conversation?

Just then, Roman got up and started pacing. "But [WHAT’S] worse is, Virgil is the only person that I'm really close to and he already knows me inside and out. Do you know how stifling it is to have to live with someone who already knows all of your flaws?" he shouted.

Logan sat there silently. He couldn't say he did know how stifling it was.

Roman continued talking, a bit calmer now. "I've [BEEN] trying to branch out so I could have a fresh start, but I can only do that so much because it seems mean to Virgil, and just...you're lucky that you don't have to deal with all that."

"I suppose I never thought of it that way," Logan said genuinely once Roman's tirade had had a chance to sink in. "Certainly [GOING] off of that information I can understand why you would feel that your social position is inferior to mine; however--"

"Okay, seriously, do you have to talk like that?" Roman cut in suddenly. "Come [ON]."

Just like he had the night before, Logan bit his lip and slid down further into his chair. In a moment of recognition, Roman slumped his shoulders and put his hands up.

"...Okay, you're right, that wasn't very helpful, let's just try that again," he said. Now it was his turn to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Finally his own voice was steady, and he spoke up again.

"Look, [WE] both know that you're the one who's supposed to be here and not me," he said pitifully. "As I was saying at the start of this conversation, all I ask is that you don't rub it in my face so much."

Logan looked up and tilted his head. "I [KNOW] that my...speech patterns can be unusual sometimes, but I'm feeling lost as to how that relates to your belief that only I belong here. Can you per--can you maybe explain that a little better?" he asked sincerely.

Roman put his face in his hands and groaned, and moved to lie on his bed. "All [THE] kids here have such intelligent conversations about books and culture and the stuff they've read and I can't contribute to any of it! I'm not smart enough to hear the nuances in classical music or to understand the significance of a given metaphor."

Logan thought this through and tried to find a way to speak up, but Roman went on. "This [GAME] of trying to pretend I know those things just makes me feel worse. It's just exhausting and depressing. Oh, [AND] don't think for a second that I know anything about robotics or mass production or friction," he added pointedly. Logan nodded regretfully.

Roman turned to stare at the ceiling, having cooled off a little. "My point is, I was never meant to be a college student."

Logan sat in the chair for a few moments and swung his feet. He was done with his own self-pity; Roman was saying things about himself that weren't true, and for the first time he could ever remember, Logan was overcome with a sense of compassion. But how to help?

"Roman...[WE’RE] in the same history class together, right?" he said at last.

Roman turned around and faced him. "Yeah...why?"

"You're [GONNA] say you don't belong here even though just last week you made an incredibly insightful point about how Taft's domestic policies impacted his decision to fire Pinchot?" Logan asked gently.

Roman sat up and glared at him. "What, you mean the point that a certain someone said was incomplete? Don't [PLAY] like you liked what I said when you're the one who shot it down."

Suddenly, Logan got back on the defensive. "Now, I don't think that's entirely fair. Shooting [IT] down would be like saying it was a bad idea. I liked it a lot; I was just trying to build on it." He stared at Roman with the same helpless, wounded look he'd given Patton the night before, but then he sighed and shook his head.

He tilted his head again and leaned forward a bit. "...You [AND] I have had a pretty rough start, haven't we?" he said shyly. Roman leaned forward too, and offered a small smile.

They stayed like that for a moment or two, but then Logan shook his head and leaned back. "Anyway, what I was trying to say is, you're at this school because you got accepted. And [IF] you ask me, that's evidence enough that you're meant to be here," he said, meeting Roman's eyes for the first time.

Now it was Roman's turn to stare at his feet. "It is?"

Logan nodded. "Don't [YOU] understand?" he asked, speaking even more softly now. "Admissions directors don't make mistakes about these things."

Roman gave him a skeptical glare, so he went on. "They [ASK] all the right questions during interviews and read every application essay carefully to ensure that all their students are thoughtful and intelligent and have the potential to thrive here. You're here because they were able to see the best in you." He smiled again.

Roman swallowed back a sob, and said at last, "Maybe [ME] and you should talk more often."

'You and I,' Logan thought to himself, but he was too overjoyed to finally have a new friend to care. "Yeah, maybe we should," he replied with a grin.

Roman smiled and wiped his eyes. "Look, [HOW] about we start this over, yeah?" He stood up and stuck out his hand. "I'm Roman."

Logan grinned and stood from Virgil's chair, sticking out his own hand. "Hello, [I’M] Logan. It's nice to meet you!"

@lizaelsparrow @bunny222 @phlying-squirrel @haikyuupaladin @anarchicrealist @existentialburden @hissesssss @lonelygoldheart @sassy-in-glasses @pensive-patton @punch-you-with-friendship @challybop @natigail @kindofclever @k9cat @iris-sanders-athena @ravenclawangst @secretlyondrugs @theresneverenoughfandoms @nashiraneko @wtfeodipus @savingshae @zoalis @a-simple-fryingpan @yv-sanders @justanotherpurplebutterfly @frigglishsprite413 @afilhadehades-blog @pandilli

Hey...if you don’t totally hate me yet, why not go back and reread The Apartment (first word of every other spoken sentence), Audition (third word of every other spoken sentence), House Party (third by default, but second and fourth as necessary, word of every single spoken sentence), and Embarrassing Past (first letter of every sentence)?

Also, DISCLAIMER: These OPs were not edited until July 8th. Please don’t feel bad if you didn’t pick up on it--you weren’t supposed to! This has everything to do with seeing if I could be a good enough writer to pull it off and nothing to do with making others feel bad. It was all in good fun!

#my fanfics #thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #movie night #logince #june fics

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niallismymuse · 7 years

Text

part ii: rail against your dying day

story page | part iii

Niall drifted into the room he would call his own slowly, reluctantly. His gaze dully flicked around it, noting its contents. A bed of seaweed (at least he assumed it was a bed; it looked more like a mound of, well, seaweed) was tucked into the corner. A square was cut into the wall, a window to the outside ocean, almost large enough for him to swim out of – and he fantasized doing just that, of tearing the faded blue curtain that was a smaller twin to the one that acted as his door and swimming far, far away. Back to his family, to his life.

The hollow sensation inside his chest, though, told him that it wasn’t possible. He felt numb. Nothing around him felt solid, or real; but the raging, fierce storm within his mind, tearing him to shreds did.

God. His family. He felt sick to his stomach. He hadn’t even considered what his death would do to them. He had been selfish, concerned about his friends, his career...he never thought about the fact that he was a son and a brother.

A hurricane raged in Niall’s head, and he maneuvered towards the seaweed, before collapsing on to it. His mind had no thoughts in it: just an overwhelming, undulating monster of grief. It roared and scratched at him, dug its sharp claws into every recess of his mind, until it just became him. He was no longer Niall Horan, son-turned-popstar-turned-siren, he was the deity of grief, and it howled through his veins.

He laid there throughout the entire night, and made no move to get off of his bed the next day. He barely felt the softness of the seaweed brushing against his skin, barely felt the slight current of the water shifting in the room. Niall was nothing that day, nothing but memories of holding his mum’s hand and getting a ride on his dad’s shoulders, playing catch with Greg. Niall relived each and every memory with his family that he had, even the faintest one available. Maura would know by now, he thought, that her youngest son was lost at sea, because surely they wouldn’t find a body…and they would hope to find him. But they never would.

Niall felt no hunger or thirst in the day he laid in his room. He was just a body, somehow breathing air underwater, and that was it. He could have been dead. He felt dead.

At some point, he slept, his body heavy with his aching sadness. When he woke, Rose was hovering over him, lips pursed in a frown. Niall’s chest felt heavy. They made eye contact, and he turned away from her, from the woman who had removed the chance that his family would ever find his body and have closure.

Rose was silent for a while. But then she spoke, her voice carrying through his stubborn ears, even though he tried not to hear her. “It took me fifty years to accept what happened to me. And there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where I haven’t thought about my dad, the family I left behind, wondered what they had been told about me. If they cared. You will take the time you need to accept this, be it two days, two years, or two hundred years. And then you’ll be okay enough to…live for them, maybe not the way that they wanted you to, but you’ll still be living.”

It struck him then that she had a very faint British accent, dulled by years under the sea. Niall didn’t want to notice this. He didn’t want to hear her words, listen to that quiet voice. This was her fault, after all. Despite knowing this, he had no energy to chase her away.

“You took away their closure. You should have let me die.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and then they were free, floating in the water between them.

Silence stretched out between them for what felt like centuries, each second lasting decades, tension building until it was sure to crack and break. Rose sucked in a quick breath behind him and blew it out slowly, as if to steady herself. “I…I’m sorry. That’s not something I would have considered.”

Her admission broke something inside of him, something that he had been holding back all of this time that he had laid on his seaweed bed. His eyes burned, and Niall began to cry.

He cried for what felt like too short of time, considering the pain he knew his family and friends and even his fans would feel. But he cried. He cried for them, sobbed for his lost life, wept for the years that would not come. And when he was done, he turned over, and Rose was still there, gazing at the wall, brown eyes solemn, but unfocused. Niall found himself grateful that she wasn’t looking at him, but that she had stayed. She had stayed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, voice cracking on the last syllable. Rose shook her head, hair fluttering through the water, turning to look at him.

“Don’t apologize, Niall, for feeling things,” she said kindly. “We are who we are because of what we feel.”

Niall sniffled and wiped at his eyes, a reflex at this point, because his tears had already blended with the salt water surrounding him. “Why is it not something you would have considered?” He asked her, a bit confused at this point. Surely she had had her own family that missed her when she died, or really, disappeared.

Rose’s face tightened. “I’ve been down here a long time, Niall,” she replied slowly, guarded in a way that she hadn’t yet been. But he caught it; he caught the glimmer of sadness in her voice that she couldn’t quite hide, the sparkle in her eyes that had dimmed. “Long enough that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be part of the human world.”

He gazed at her, and sat up. “I…was in a band,” he started off, words slow and stumbling. It hurt to say that. “We are…were, popular worldwide.” He added, and Rose’s face softened. “We travelled around the world, playing music for our friends, seeing things most other people our age never see, doing things they never do. We had it all.”

Biting her lip, she said, “I imagine that the world has changed since I died…and if it wouldn’t be too much to ask, would you…tell me about it?” In that question, Rose exposed her vulnerability. She hadn’t lived, not like he had.

“It would help if you told me when you died,” Niall said, not without sensitivity, before adding hastily, “so that I can tell you what’s happened since then.”

Rose paused, her lips parting. She opened her mouth and closed it, then opened it again, obviously struggling to get the words out. “I died in the year 1923.”

Niall’s jaw dropped. “This is…this is 2012. You died 89 years ago.” His tone was hushed, and he was in awe. She had been down here for so long. How did it feel, to be under the sea for 89 years? Did the time pass slowly, or quickly? Did she care?

“89 years,” Rose whispered, eyes drifting off to some other point in the room, no longer focused on him. “My family…they’d be gone, then. Only descendants left, if anything.” There was an unhidden amount of pain to her voice, raw enough that Niall felt if chafe at his skin. If he was the deity of grief, then Rose Williams was the deity of pain. “I had not realized it had been so many years.”

“How old were you?” Niall asked suddenly, caught in his own head. Rose looked thankful for the question though. “When you died?”

“I was 18.” She answered matter-of-factly, before situating herself a bit more on the stone floor of his room. Niall frowned, then scooted over on his bed, patting the spot next to him. Really, he didn’t think that rubbing her scales on the stone floor would feel good. Rose shot him a surprised look, almost embarrassed really, and he wondered if he had offended her somehow. Then he remembered she had died in 1923, and this probably wasn’t allowed or considered scandalous back then. But, to her credit, she gracefully rose up and sat next to him on the bed, albeit with some space between them.

“I’m 18,” Niall stated. What a weird coincidence. “Shit, so you died in 1923…” he ignored the fact that she flinched at his cursing, and continued on. “Do you know about World War II?”

“World War II?” Rose asked in a hushed whisper, eyes wide.

So Niall told her all about the war, what he knew from school, what he knew from going around the world. He told her about Hitler, about the Japanese, about how France fell and how Britain would have, but then America joined in and eventually the Allies won the war. He talked about other things, too, like The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, what he found important in history. Rose listened, absorbed it all like a sponge soaking up information. She only interrupted him to ask more questions. He felt bad about the things he didn’t know – he should have paid more attention in class – but what he did know seemed to satisfy her.

Then he told her about the advancements made in technology over the past 89 years. Television, moves, phones, airplanes, even the atom bomb since it was important too. Anything he could think to tell her about. Niall ached to show her an iPhone, just so he could explain the Internet better, just because merely saying “you can find anything on it” didn’t really do it justice.

Afterwards, Rose offered up a tidbit of her own. “My mama died in World War I.” She told Niall, her lips pressed together, face drawn. “She died in the bombings.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, because even though the words were used so often, and offered no real help, they were all he had. Niall couldn’t even begin to imagine living during a war, much less losing someone to it.

Rose nodded once, then floated up from the bed, twisting mid-water to face him. Her hair was free again, floating through the water, and he couldn’t help but notice it was pretty like that. Better than tied back. “How are you feeling now?” She asked him, eyes on his face, as if she could read every single emotion that coursed through him. Why did Niall feel like she could read him so easily? Not just the feelings on his face, but the thoughts in his head. Was he just an open book?

“I’m doing…all right,” he said. Truthfully, he had forgotten his plight just from a few minutes of good conversation. Was it only a few minutes? Niall had no idea, there was no way to track time down here. But now he was feeling it again, that grief from earlier, and what he wanted was to not feel it. He wanted to feel normal, how he had been feeling when he had been telling Rose all about the world. “Still…you know…”

And Rose did know. Rose knew probably better than anyone, if it took her fifty years to accept her own story. “I would like to show you something. It’s a bit of a swim, but it might make you feel better.”

“Okay,” Niall agreed easily. Anything would be better than sitting in here and thinking. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts anymore. He didn’t want the grief to well up inside him. The more he didn’t think about it, the better he’d feel.

So they journeyed out of the Atlantic palace, twisting down the abalone hallways and out into the open sea. “Triton must be home,” Rose commented, glancing over her shoulder, “the guards out.”

Niall snuck a look back himself. Indeed, there were two mermen floating by the doorway, chiseled chest and ab muscles on full display, surveying anyone who came close. Niall glanced down at his own stomach, the little pouch of it. Suddenly, he wanted a seagrass shirt himself, like what Rose was wearing. No seashell bras here, Rose was completely covered. “Who’s Triton?”

Rose didn’t speak for a little while, as if thinking of what to say. They continued to swim, though in what direction, Niall had no idea. “There are…lords of the seas, I guess you could say. Triton is the Lord of the Atlantic. Supposedly the son of Poseidon, according to Greek mythology. He doesn’t really admit to anything though. He simply…comes and goes from the palace. He’s in charge.”

“In charge of what?”

“That’s a good question,” Rose let out a small laugh, a pure one. It was the first time, Niall realized, that she had actually laughed, not a self-deprecating chuckle. “He’s…well, I’m not sure. Jeremy might know. He’s been around longer than I have.”

Niall wondered if Jeremy was the man with the pinkish tail that had been glowering at him yesterday. Then he wondered if Jeremy had been the one to turn Rose, when she had…passed. But then he decided not to question anything. She was being a bit freer with her information, and Niall didn’t want to tread on anything sensitive that would have her clamming up.

After another few minutes of silence, Niall spoke up again. “I think I owe you an apology,” he started, “from yesterday. You didn’t deserve that.”

Rose hummed out, considering. “You were scared and angry. You had every right to be. You have every right to be.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, “but I still think I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”

Something lightened between them, then, that he hadn’t even noticed had been heavy. A sparkle lit in Rose’s eyes, and she smiled at him, full-out, white teeth on display and everything. “Okay, Niall. I accept your apology.”

About an hour and a half later, they arrived at their destination. It was a small coral reef. The water felt warmer, too, now that he had stopped swimming. They must have swum further south than he had realized. Niall was about to ask her where they were when he noticed something, or really, a lack of something. Color. The coral was bleach-white, dead looking. There were few fish swimming about it.

As if sensing Niall’s incoming questions, Rose held up a hand as a steely, determined look grew on her face. “Watch,” she instructed, and so Niall turned his gaze on to the coral. And slowly, Rose began to sing. Not actual words, just vocalizations, and she was quiet at first, timid with her audience. But as time passed, she began to grow more confident, and as her voice wavered through the current, Niall noticed color beginning to soak into the coral once more. She was bringing it back to life.

Eventually, she stopped, a flush on her cheeks. “You…you can heal it?” He asked, voice a bit breathless.

“We can heal it,” Rose corrected him, before flashing him a sheepish smile. “I’m not very good at it. I’ve been told how powerful you are correlates to whether you could sing well when you were alive. I wasn’t very good, so.” She shrugged, before gesturing to the coral. It was odd-looking – half colored, half white. “You try.”

Niall’s mouth popped open, unsure of what to do. Could he actually heal this reef? Cautiously, Niall began to sing. A song off of the album that was supposed to release in November, Take Me Home. Little Things, one of his favorites off of it. He knew the whole thing by heart, though the song definitely wasn’t entirely his. Niall felt a pang in his heart at the memory of trying to write this song with the lads. But as he watched, more and more color grew along the coral, before it was fully alive. It was bright in the sea.

Rose cheered for him, clapping her hands together. “Niall, you’ve done it! You brought it back to life!”

Niall turned to face him, a jubilant grin on his face. He had brought an entire coral reef back to life. With help, of course, but still. It filled him with excitement. “Fucking incredible,” he told her, laughed when she made a face at the cussing.

“You’re pretty good,” Rose complimented him, turning back to gaze at the reef. Now it was Niall’s turn to blush. He was never very confident in his singing abilities. Guitar, yeah, he could do that pretty decently. But he wasn’t as good as the others, something he felt in the bottom of his heart. All the lads had been incredible. He had never felt quite as up to par. Yet he could bring a reef back to life. “I’ve always suspected that’s where the siren myth came from. Some sailors caught us bringing a reef back to life, maybe they were attracted by the singing.”

“Brilliant,” he muttered, shaking his head. He never would have thought of that. “What did you do when you were alive, then? If not singing?” Niall was curious. Everyone had something they liked to do, some type of hobby. For him, it had always been the guitar and singing a bit here and there. Footie, too.

Rose grew quiet, that cheerfulness that seemed so natural on her withdrawing into a guarded shell. “I used to paint,” she murmured, biting down on her lip. Niall nodded; it was obviously a sensitive subject, so he would drop it.

“By the way, where the hell are we?”

“No idea.”

Niall had nothing to say to that, so instead of speaking, they gazed at the reef for a little while longer, and then began to swim back to the palace. Even though Niall still felt devastated about the whole situation, about his family, he felt lighter on the trip back. And he hadn’t thought about her, either.

#Niall Horan #Niall #mermaid au #siren au #imagine #Niall imagine #Niall Horan imagine #au #Niall Horan au #Niall au #here it is!!!#ss #hope you enjoy it

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svubloods · 7 years

Text

Imagine yours and Jamie’s wedding day

You still couldn’t believe it was you. You knew it was. It was your face, it was you, of course, it was you but you still couldn’t believe it. It happened every time you put it on. It was like a different version of you was looking back at you. A better you, definitely a better you.

“Oh my god,” You breathed almost silently at the sight of your reflection in the mirror, turning slightly to see all sides.

“You look amazing!” Your soon to be sister in law, Erin, complimented who apparently was suddenly behind you.

You turned carefully to face her, still slightly cautious about it, “You think so?”

“You looked amazing in it when you first tried it on, you looked amazing at the two fittings you did after that and you definitely look amazing in it today. Even more so.” She reassured, instinctively fixing your dresses skirt while she spoke as well as stepping onto the podium to do that.

“You think he’ll like it?” You asked, looking back at the mirror again.

“Do you like it?” She countered.

You nodded in admission.

“Then he’ll love it, mostly because you look gorgeous.” She repeated, giving your shoulders a squeeze in reassurance.

“Thank you,” You said, blushing embarrassingly, you were never good at receiving compliments.

You looked at yourself again. You remembered when you first tried it and you just knew it was the one. You’d never been big on dresses but you when you had to wear them you won’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy wearing them. You loved the simple, classy look and that reflected in your wedding dress. You were never going to go for a fall on cinderella ballgown but you did extend yourself and have the whole top of your dress as lace as well as the sleeves, Which were long and went all the way to your wrists. You think that’s why you were still slightly nervous. It wasn’t your typical sort of dress that you would usually choose but somehow it was the perfect dress for you.

This whole experience had been a venture outside your comfort zone. Growing up, you weren’t ever interested in weddings, you can’t even remember giving it a thought growing up. If you were being honest even when Jamie proposed you didn’t think much about it. You were too consumed with the whole engagement aspect. It was only when your mother mentioned it that you actually remembered that you actually had to plan, organize and execute and the actual wedding.

And with your two families, it had to be good. Luckily for you, both you and Jamie combined had a wealth of siblings who were willing and eager to plan the thing for you. Jamie’s sister Erin and your older sisters as well as your older brother Sonny. You didn’t have to do much then get a dress, taste the food, and either agree to one of their decisions or disagree. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested it was just that you didn’t have time. You were working to pay for it all. You prided yourself on being self-sufficient and you didn’t want to put the burden of paying for it all on either of you families. Not to mention they all had so much fun planning it, you had a much larger budget than they had for any of their own weddings. They were living through you and you didn’t mind at all. You got to pick the important parts like the dress and the food and most importantly the person waiting for you at the alter.

Jamie.

Words cannot describe how you felt about him. You tried hard in your vows to captivate the feelings you have but still, they could not portray the full extent of how you felt.

You met at Harvard during your first year. You were both pre-law but didn’t have any classes together. It was a chance encounter. His dorm was down the hall from yours and he had knocked on every door looking for a spare new toothbrush. It happened to be Friday night and you were really the only one else there. Studying away. So it was the fifth door, your door, that finally opened up to him. And that’s how you met over a toothbrush and only because no one else was here. A coincidence.

The best one that had ever happened to you.

You kept running into each other after that. You didn’t believe in signs but that made you believe. The last random time you ran into each other was at a local bar, at which point you were good friends. You had bonded over the fact that you both came from large Catholic families as well as both growing up on Staten Island. Yet you had never met. It was at the end of that encounter when he finally asked you out on a date. And you’d been together ever since.

Which is almost ten years now.

It wasn’t easy. In your twenties, your lives are constantly changing. You’d been there for each other's highs, graduation including law school and police academy for Jamie as well as first job and promotions but also for each other's lows which included when you lost your Dad and when he lost his Mom and brother.

You were each others constant.

You knew each other so well. You are pretty sure he knew more about you than you did and vice versa. It wasn’t a surprise to you when after graduating law school instead of taking one of the high profile or well-paid jobs that were offered to you. He enrolled into the Police Academy instead and you worked extra hard knowing that he had a lot of loans to pay unlike you who had got a scholarship. Which caused some trouble in your relationship because he hated feeling dependent on you but you both knew that even if he did continue down the law route he would go into criminal which didn’t pay as well as your area, civil litigation.

Unlike Jamie, you aim wasn’t to continue any family tradition but instead to provide for your family. Your parents weren’t the richest by any means but they still managed to give you a great life. That you wanted to take car of them for the rest of there. You always wanted to be a lawyer but stirred clear of criminal law to avoid getting sucked in and focused on more profitable areas. And you really liked civil litigation so you stuck with it and got a job with one of the biggest firms in the city. And like you hoped it paid well.

You got to take care of everyone you cared about and it was the best feeling but you knew that you couldn’t ever buy your parents, you couldn’t ever repay them for everything they had done for you. But you could try and you would for the rest of your life. And having sort of a big wedding was what they always wanted for at least one of their children. You just wish your Dad was still here to see it but you knew he loved Jamie and thought he was perfect for you.

Which is why Jamie is so special. You had other boyfriends before him but none of them were special. There was just something different about him. You believed in soulmates, your parents were each other, but you never thought you would meet your own. You don’t really know why you thought like this. Maybe because you weren’t really similar to anyone else in your family who all loved to love and weddings and everything romantic. While you were extremely driven and focused, sarcastic.

And even though your families were essentially planning the wedding, you ensured they didn’t go too traditional with the wedding. If anything you just wanted it to be a big party that had a small short ceremony at the beginning. Jamie completely agreed with you on this. The only tradition you really kept was that he hadn’t seen the dress. He didn’t like most of the traditions especially the one about not seeing each other on the day of the wedding until the ceremony. He threw that one out of the window.

Your wedding was mid afternoon with a party that hopefully was going to last all night so you woke up that morning in your bed, in your apartment with Jamie.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N,” Jamie informed after you faked a sleepy turn in which your rested your head on his chest and wrapped your arms around him.

“How did you know?” You asked, still not looking up at him even though you knew he was looking down at you.

“You usually hit me and push me away not grab me and bring me closer,” He chuckled.

“Well,” You sighed, looking up into his eyes, “Excuse me for trying to be cute,”

“You don’t need to try,” He commented.

“Mmm,” You disagreed audibly before taking a deep breath and repositioning yourself so you were at eye level but your limbs were still around him.

He pulled you closer and looked at you as if he was never going to see you again.

“Are you okay, J?” You asked cautiously.

“I just can’t believe I’m marrying you today,” He confessed, still looking at you dead in the eye.

“Well, believe it because it’s happening and I’m not going to let you get out of it,” You joked.

“Why would I run away from someone like you,” He winked.

“Stop being so cheesy!” You mocked, hitting him in the chest playfully.

“Wait till you hear my vows,” He warned, before getting out of bed briskly, taking you with him in his arms.

You and Jamie had also decided in your quest to reject every tradition out there, to write your own vows. You were worried about it because you had never been that good with conveying your emotions but your tired really hard and you’ll think they will go down well. But you were most curious about his vows, though. Jamie was a strange one, sometimes he was very sensitive and in touch with his emotions and sometimes he wasn’t. It was going to be interesting and hopefully, it wouldn’t make you cry.

“Hey, how is everything going?” Sonny asked quietly walking into the room.

“Good,” You smiled as they did the final touches to your hair

“You look great,” He complimented.

“You haven’t even seen my dress yet,” You reminded, as they finished steeping away after confirming to you non-verbally that they were done.

You stood up and smoothed it out and smiled at Sonny as he took it all in.

“You look beautiful,” He grinned, walking over immediately and hugging you, “I can’t believe my baby sister is getting married.”

“It was going to happen someday, right?” You commented as he let go.

“Of course it was but I’m still not prepared for it all,” He sighed, still looking you up and down.

“Well, you better get ready. You’re walking me down the aisle in fifteen minutes,” You joked.

“I know,” He nodded.

Yours and Sonny's Dad had died a couple of years ago now and that, unfortunately, meant that he couldn’t walk his last daughter down the aisle. But you knew he would want Sonny to walk you down in his place. He was your brother after all. It was a very nerve wrecking moment when you asked him to do it. He was very touched by it and you knew he was holding back tears.

“Thanks again for that by the way,” You thanked for the umpteenth time.

“You don’t need to thank me,” He reassured, “Even though I know we would all wish that he was here to do it. Dad would have wanted me to in his place. He wouldn’t want you walked down by yourself,”

You nodded cautiously not to cry. You really missed your Dad, he was the only person in your family who got you and you especially missed him today. Which was why the only piece of jewelry you were wearing today was the piece he left you when he died. It was his wedding band. You wore it attached to a necklace, so it rested right by your heart.

“I know you miss him,” Sonny acknowledged.

“It’s okay,” You reassured before pointing to the necklace, “He’s always with me,”

Sonny smiled before Erin popped her head around the door and indicated that it was time start.

“Here we go,” Sonny whispered as you stood in position, music beginning, as the first pair of bridesmaid and groomsman walked down.

You took a deep breath and before you even knew it. It was your turn to go and do that walk down the aisle. Your Mother had alway said that her biggest regret was not looking at your Dad when she was walking down the aisle. She was too nervous to look and looked at everyone else instead. And then everyone spent the rest of the night gushing about the way he looked at her.

So as soon as you made that turn around the corner and into the room you locked eyes on Jamie. You saw him run to face and you met each other's gazes. He beamed broadly as he seemingly took you in. He instinctively and unintentionally mouthed ‘wow’ as you walked towards him which made you blush to yourself but you knew he saw.

There were at least a hundred eyes on you and you could only look into his.

You savored every second of that walk but the best part was when you arrived. Sonny then ‘gave you away’ with a tight hug and a wiped away tear. He placed your hand on Jamie’s. Jamie held on tightly kissing it as soon as it was in his and helping you take a step up on the podium.

“Hey,” He whispered.

“Hi,” You replied mesmerized, he looked so great.

You stepped into position and grabbed your hand and the ceremony began.

“And I believe you’ve written your own vows,” Your pastor said and prompting, “Y/N,”

“Jamie,” You began, “I don’t know where to start. You know better than anyone how bad I am at knowing how I’m feeling and just emotions in general. They confuse me but there is one thing that I’m not confused about and that’s how I feel about you. I love you, so much. Jamie, you’ve filled my world with light, love, and fulfillment. You’re my best friend. I was alway trying to change myself so thank you for taking me as I am, for loving me, and just making me a better person. For showing me that I didn’t need to change anything about myself because you love me regardless. You are truly the most amazing person I have ever met. And you know that I’m an awful team player but I’ve never wanted to be someone partner more than I want to be yours. So if you’ll have me. I’m ready to walk this beat with you for the rest of my life.” You watched Jamie chuckle and beam as you finished your vows.

“And Jamie,” Your pastor prompted.

“Y/N,” He started, “My mom always told me growing up that the best things in life weren't things. They are people. Moments. The small things in life. Because it's the small things that you’ll remember and that you shouldn’t worry about anything else as long as you were with the people you loved. Life is beautiful if you choose to live it. And me being a typical teenage boy, didn’t really to what she was saying. Mostly because I didn't understand what she was saying. I just didn’t get it until I met you. And then suddenly I understood. My life, my world, my everything was a shade brighter with you in. Life gave me the greatest gift I could ever receive, you. But life can also be cruel and it can take things from you, important things, and I know I wouldn't have survived all that if life hadn't given me you first. You've shown me, proved to me that life is made and lived through the small things. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life, building a life, filled with the small things, with you,”

Your eyes swelled with tears. You controlled them as best you could but a single tear spilled it out. You went up to wipe it but he beat you to the punch. He flashed a smile before joining hands again and continuing with the ceremony.

Everything after that was a world wind of fun and celebration. It was nonstop party and energy. The next time you and Jamie got alone was on the dance floor. It was after the big dance as a first couple. The party was in full swing and the attention was slightly off the two of you. You danced to a slow song, swaying to the music in each others arm. You were resting your head on his shoulder as you swayed.

“Are you okay?” He asked, lowering his head so you could hear.

“I’m fantastic,” You responded, straightening up and looking at him.

“You’re a little quiet,” He commented.

“I’m just taking it all in,” You informed, “I’m planning on getting married once, you know?”

“Me and you both,” He smirked.

“This day had gone so fast. I just want to make sure I remember everything,” You elaborated.

“I’m doing the same thing,” He informed, “I need something to say when our future kids ask.”

“You think they’ll be interested in hearing about our wedding day?” You questioned.

“We would have failed at being parents if they don’t,” He teased, “But seriously. I hope they are. I loved hearing about my parent's wedding day.”

“Why?” You probed curiously as he spun you around in time with the music before grabbing hold of you again.

“It was just the way they both talked about it. You could truly tell that it was the best day of their lives,” He explained, “I want that for our kids,”

“Well, that would mean that, that today was the best day of your life,” You commented without thinking.

“It is,” He stated truthfully and adamantly.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” You nodded jokingly which made him laugh.

“I love you,” He chuckled.

“I love you too,” You grinned before leaning up and kissing him.

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