#fanficlet

Congratulations to the team over at @flashfictionfridayofficial   for reaching the milestone of 300 weeks of prompts - thank you for all the inspiration you offer to us writers here on Tumblr!   This fic is a fill for three of this week’s prompts:  [#FFF300 Let Me Go] [#FFF300 Burn It Down] [#FFF300 Rise and Fall], along with my @fandom-free-bingo   Fool’s Edition  A2 square - "I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve." 

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes  Rating: General Tags: No Powers AU, College AU, Musician Bucky Barnes, Secret Identities, Brock Rumlow is a Creep Summary:  Tony falls for a mysterious performer at Battle of the Bands, only to meet him again in an unexpected place.   NOTE: Sorry for the cliffhanger - I may be adding more to this if time, energy and inspiration collide again!  Word Count:  747 words

Let me go Burn it down Rise and fall, baby

The pounding drumbeats and screeching guitar licks were about what Tony had expected from a local Battle of the Bands, but the black-leather-clad front man was clearly something special -  singing  as if his life depended on every word as his long, dark hair whipped around his face in the wind. 

Even though he’d never seen or heard of Alpha Strike before, Tony couldn’t help but join in when the chorus repeated, shout-singing along.  Truth be told,  the only reason he was even there was thanks to Pepper - her boyfriend’s band was up next.  Tony would have to thank her later for the invite; assuming he still had a voice. 

The singer’s storm blue eyes met Tony’s just for a moment over the half-mask he wore.  "I'm not a monster. I'm just ahead of the curve,” he sang - it was a feeling Tony knew all too well.   

He had to meet this guy. Not just because he wanted to climb him like a tree (although that definitely played into it) - it was the lyrics that spoke right to Tony’s soul, and the emotion he poured into every note.  The crowd went wild the moment the song ended, which meant Tony had to push his way through a throng of clapping, cheering half-drunk students to try to get backstage. 

He finally made it, spotting the band’s guitarist.  “Hey - you guys sounded really good out there.” 

“Damn right we did.” the guy replied, clearly more than a little full of himself.  “I’m Brock. I put the band together.” 

“So that was your song?”  Tony didn’t mean to sound quite so incredulous, but he didn’t quite seem the type to write something so powerful. 

Brock rolled his eyes.  “Nah, Jay, our singer wrote it.  His head’s full of that kind of crap. I don’t understand it, but  it sounds cool once me and Jack add the music.” He looked Tony up and down with a leer.  “You know, we’re always looking for new fans. Especially hot ones like you.” 

“Uh, thanks, but I’d really like to talk to Jay.” Tony replied, getting a little creeped out,  “Do you know where he is?”   

Brock shrugged. “Probably already gone. Doesn’t like crowds. For that matter,” he put one hand on the wall next to where Tony was standing, “neither do I.  How about you and me go find somewhere more private?” 

Tony stepped back out of reach. “Sorry - I’ve got other plans.  Good luck with the competition, though!”    He headed back out into the crowd, in hopes of running into JB, but no luck.  

Tony would have skipped his eight o’clock class the next morning, but he knew Doctor Pym would be handing out the assignments for a group project and he wanted to find out who he’d have to deal with.  

“Group three,” Pym announced,  “Stark, Lang and Barnes.”   Tony remembered Scott from a previous class - he was all over the place sometimes due to his ADHD, but he knew his stuff. The other person, though, was an unknown quantity. 

Tony glanced around as Scott slid into the desk next to him;  they both  startled at a soft voice speaking from  behind them.  “Um, hi.  You’re group three, right? I’m James. James Barnes.” 

He wore a ball cap and tinted hornrim glasses, giving them a shy smile as he held out one hand in greeting.  Nonplussed, Tony shook it, and James sat down.  

“I, uh, I’m looking forward to working with you two.  You’re both really smart.” James let out a small huff and shook his head.  “Some days I don’t even think I should be here.” 

“Blame that on Pym - he’s a brilliant man, but a lousy instructor,” Scott commented, clearly trying to make their partner  feel more at ease.  “Tony’s great at explaining things, though - he’d make a great TA.”  

“Thanks, Scott,” Tony replied, trying not to stare at James - he looked familiar, but Tony couldn’t quite place him.  Then he noticed the large silver ring on James’ left hand.  It was the same ring he’d seen Jay wearing the night before. 

“You’re him!” Tony exclaimed.  “You sing for Alpha Strike!” 

James’ face went pale.  “Uh, no, I don’t…”  he stammered, grabbing his bag and jumping to his feet. Before Tony could say anything else, James was out the door. 

“What was that all about?”  Scott gave Tony a confused look. 

My farmer OC x worried Balor!

I wrote a lil something to go with my illustration cause I’m going insane with excitement for tomorrow lol:

Strict/worried/dom! Balor finds an injured Rhian* on her way out of the mines

*Rhian is my 27y/o adventurer/farmer OC - she joined the guild and came to Mistria after failing out of wizard school. She’s good friends with Juniper who also failed out of said school.

Warnings: serious injury (blood), very suggestive

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Rhian stumbled forward, supporting herself on whatever she could grab on to and trying not to think about the searing pain coming from the gash on her knee. Nevermind the burns. Her forehead glistened with sweat and her vision blurred at the edges. Just a little farther, then she would be in town…if she could just make it to the bathhouse, Juniper could help her heal discretely…

An owl hooted from somewhere above in the pitch black trees. It was much too late. Rhian just hadn’t been prepared for the new levels of the mines. The lava had scorched her clothes and parts of her skin, and the monsters had been too high level…she cursed herself for being so naive and limped forward, lost in thought.

“Rhian?”

She startled. It was Balor.

Of course it had to be him.

“Evening, Balor.” She tried to play it cool, but even her voice was strangled.

“You’re hurt!” The handsome merchant Rhian had been crushing on since her arrival in Mistria was suddenly at her side. “You can barely walk! For the love of the Gods…” He growled, bending down to examine her leg in the faint moonlight.

He bunched up her blood-soaked pant leg to above her knee. “I can barely see, but you're bleeding alot." His voice was hard. Quickly, Balor removed his thin summer shirt, wrapping it around the wound and pulling it tight. "Shit, Rhian! How long have you been bleeding like this?"

She couldn't answer. She didn't know.

He took her hand and guided it to her hastily bandaged wound. "Apply pressure." She obeyed. Rhian had never seen this side of Balor before. So serious, so upset.

“We need to get to the clinic.” Suddenly, Balor was hoisting her up in his strong arms, bridal style. Though he wasn’t as stereotypically built as someone like Hayden or March perhaps, he was tall and certainly strong. In comparison to the goods and wares Rhian had seen him lug around before, she was probably easy to carry.

The pain she was in slipped to the back to her mind when Balor’s rough hand shifted under her legs, positioning her better. “Hold on to me.” He commanded.

Rhian’s cheeks burned - she didn’t know whether it was from her injured state or the embarrassment at the proximity, or both. She slunk her arms cautiously around his neck - trying not to look at his chest - and failing. His hard muscles flexed as he ran towards the clinic, gripping her tightly.

Her eyes settled over the pink scar running across his chest. She wanted to know how he had gotten that scar. She reached out a hand to touch it, when suddenly she was brought back to reality.

“We’re here.” Balor’s deep voice rumbled beneath her as he backed through the clinic door. He sat her down in a chair, and it was then she saw how much blood was on him.

He knelt once again and moved her hand, applying pressure himself instead. “Shit, it's even worse than I thought...Valen!” He yelled frantically. “It’s an emergency! Valen!”

How mortifying, Rhian thought as her vision finally slipped away into darkness.

She awoke in the clinic’s bed. Everything hurt. The sun shone into the window - it was the next day - maybe noon? Oh, no - my crops! My cows! She heard raised voices from outside the door. Arguing.

“We need to shut the mines off, Valen, otherwise she’ll just keep hurting herself! Please take my side on this. With your help, we might be able to convince Errol and - “

“That’s enough, Balor.” Valen countered in her steely cool way. “You and I both know that even if the mines were closed, she would find a way in regardless.”

Rhian felt her cheeks burn as she heard Balor sigh. “I know, you’re right. I just - it kills me to see her like that. I wish I could’ve done something.”

“You did. If you hadn’t have brought her in when you did…” Valen was quiet for a moment, then: “You know how to use a sword, right? Why don’t you accompany her next time?”

“I offered once, but she got offended and told me she’s damn strong enough.” He chuckled softly before his voice turned strained again. “But the next time, I won’t accept no for an answer.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Valen said. “I’m going to check on her now. Her vitals are stable, so she could wake up anytime now…”

The door opened, then, and the two of them entered. Rhian pulled the covers up to her chin and gave a small sheepish smile. “Hello.” She croaked.

There was a few seconds of relief on their faces - and then the lecturing commenced. Valen flitted around, checking her burns and leg injury and her temperature while scolding her about taking better care of herself. How could she be so reckless? We were worried sick. Strictly bed rest for at least a week.

Balor wasn’t any better. Don’t even think about doing any farm chores. I’ve got it covered. Me and Hayden and Celine. What if I hadn’t found you?

Despite her protests and to her thorough embarrassment, Balor carried Rhian home. A couple of the townsfolk gave them funny looks as they made their way to the farm. Reina and Celine, who knew about her crush, giggled and whistled. He was silent as they walked, his jaw set and firm.

Rhian finally broke the silence when they reached her farm. “Hey, thank you. I’m sorry to put you and the others out.”

Balor met her eyes then. “Don’t worry about that. Just be more careful. Please.”

Rhian nodded. They approached her door then, but Balor didn’t release her yet. His deep brown eyes didn’t move from hers - waiting.

“I will.” She promised, feeling a deep blush creep up her neck and face.

Balor finally broke into a soft smile then, pressing his forehead to hers. “You better be.” He breathed. His expression then shifted into the smirky, mischievous one Rhian knew so well before he moved his lips to her ear. “Or else.”

He wanted to take them off, but there was a barrier he could not cross, that wasnt there before.

If he reached out

tentatively

and gently held those glasses

would their owner relinquish them, as he had before?

or would he flinch. turn away. hide himself from the world.

would he hide himself from the one person who knew him?

A little Stargate SG-1 tidbit, that will likely never see the light of day because it's just too odd and too short.

Dial 1-900...

“Major Carter, have you considered consulting Miss Cleo?” Teal’c asked. 

“Miss who?” 

“Miss Cleo. She possesses a great aptitude for divining the future.” 

“A psychic?” 

“Indeed. A friendly one.” 

“Teal’c, I don’t think Miss Cleo is exactly who you think she is. On Earth, people sometimes pretend to have abilities that they don’t to take advantage of...” 

Teal’c tilted an eyebrow at her in question, and Sam knew she couldn’t finish that sentence even if his naivete wasn’t his fault. He was from another planet after all. 

Spooktober is here, guys! My friend and muse @crunadh and me decided to post our silly halloween headcanons. Take a look: 

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

Valdo Marx brushed some nonexistent lint of his immaculate doublet and took a deep breath. He didn’t take his eyes off the dark, looming estate while he slowly made his way up to the big oaken entrance door.

He had already tried his usual suitors to get a few crowns out of them. But this time even his mother had refused to help him out of his dryspell. He had been unlucky in the last few horse races and gwent games, gambling the money away he owed others. When his mother had exclaimed in disappointment, that if he kept it up his reputation would be in shambles just like ‘this cousin of yours’, he had remembered the stories. Of this really wealthy Viscount de Lettenhove, a cousin thrice removed or something, looked upon because of his attitude and lifestyle, which, according to his mother, exceeded the definition of bohemian or eccentric by far. He hadn’t seen Julian since they were thirteen or something.

But it was time to have a little family reunion, Valdo thought. And if he could sweet talk himself into this cousin's heart and pockets filled with gold, then all the better. He was out of options, anyway.

He was in front of the entrance now, trying to find a bell or knocker to announce his presence. Then he noticed that the big iron cast wolf that fletched it’s very pointy teeth had a small mechanism in his mouth. It’s eyes looked distressingly alive.

He hesitantly reached into the maw of the creature and quickly pulled the ring. There was the sound of a few ominous clicks and nothing happened for a few seconds.

Then an organ boomed it’s nefarious sounds. Valdo couldn’t have pinpointed where it was coming from, for the deep notes seemed to be coming both from the high turrets as well as the very grounds, making his teeth vibrate. The fugue in minor just ended when a little girl opened the heavy wooden door.

“What do you want?” asked the ashen haired girl rudely, unconsciously wiping something red off her hands and onto her trousers.

“Hi … um… hello there,” fumbled Valdo, a bit startled by the whole surreal reception. “My name is Valdo Marx and I am looking for my cousin, Julian Alfred Pankratz-Addams. I am aware that the viscount's time is precious, but I was hoping to get a few minutes with my dear cousin. I haven’t seen him for so long and I thought - “

“Daaaaad!”, screamed the child into the mansion, leaving the door open for Valdo to enter, “there is a snob on the door asking for money!”

Valdo sputtered at the scandalous cheeky brat, but was shaken out of his huff when he took in the interior of the reception hall. It was equally gloomy and tasteful, the walls filled with beautiful art, even though the motifs were a bit gruesome. There were arrangements of dark roses on the expensive furnishings. A big staircase was the most prominent installation of the hall, leading up to the higher floors.

On them stood the most beautiful woman Valdo had ever seen. A dark beauty of grace and tranquility in a black form fitting dress. Her long raven hair hung around her face lusciously, framing her high cheekbones and making her violet eyes even more intense.

“Excuse my daughter,” the lady said in a sultry voice. “She is in possession of manners but rarely decides to use them. But I guess all kids are a bit rowdy at this age.”

She glided down the stairs and the mesmerizing smell of lilacs and gooseberries permeated the air.

“Lady Yennefer Morticia Addams of Vengerberg, mistress of the house. And you are?”

“It’s been a good day,” he thinks to himself.  The presents, the food, being surrounded by family.  The love.  

It’s almost overwhelming.

And yet Dean still can’t quite allow himself to relax into it.  That nagging feeling is still tugging at his brain, keeping him from truly letting the happiness sink in.  The constant worry that something is going to go wrong, something is going to go bad.  Things are gonna get messed up.  The other shoe’s gonna drop.  He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, dragging a hand over his eyes.  Takes a deep breath, trying to still the constant loop of worry in his mind.

In the kitchen, Cas feels the undercurrent of Dean’s thoughts as he dries a dish, tidying up from the day and all of the festivities.  He frowns.  After all this time, Dean still doesn’t think he is worthy.  Worthy of being saved.  Worthy of being loved.  Cas doesn’t know what else he can say or do to make him believe it.  He catches a movement out of the corner of his eye.

Claire is heading towards the bathroom.

Dean dries his hands with a towel, steeling his shoulders against the waves of anxiety pushing against his brain.  He flashes a smile at the mirror.  “…do it right, with a smile…or don't do it.”  No way is Dean Winchester gonna let his family know that he isn’t anything but purely and genuinely happy today. He knuckles at his face one last time, and opens the door.

Claire is standing in the doorway.  She meets his eyes, and in hers there is understanding.  She opens her arms.

And Dean remembers.  He remembers how for years and years, ever since Jimmy Novak walked out of his home, trading his body, and later his life to allow a celestial being to walk the Earth, Claire didn’t have a birthday party.  At first because her mom fell apart and just couldn’t do it.  Then because every year she purposely ran away from her temporary homes on that day, because it was just too unbearable, too sad.  He remembers how Jody shared the details with him as they browsed Hot Topic for decorations, how excited Jody was to throw Claire that first birthday party when she moved in with her and Alex, to finally celebrate her day, her birthday, to show her she was loved, to show her she was safe.  He remembered how Claire smiled.  Almost too much.

He lets himself fall into the hug.  Inexplicably, (no no no no hold it in no no) he begins to cry.  Claire lets him.  

His tears finally slow.  Claire gives his shoulders another squeeze.

“It’s not going to disappear.”  She says it quietly.  It’s all she says, but he knows exactly what she means.  Claire understands.

Dean hears Cas’s voice, a memory in his mind.  “You speak her language.”

I guess she speaks mine, too, Cas.

Dean smiles, and it’s real this time.  “Thanks kid.”

"Happy birthday, old man.”  Caire punches him in the shoulder as she says it, to cover up the hitch in her voice.

They walk to the kitchen together.  Cas is standing there, smiling at them both.

....

I know we are all writing lots of birthday fluff today, but as someone who struggles with anxiety I wanted to explore how Dean’s might affect his allowing himself to be happy, even if everything is perfect.  And of course, of all people, Claire is who knows exactly how he feels.

I Found

This song ficlet is set before and after the final Naraku battle. Above is my comic attempt to go along with the oneshot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha.

I Found - by Amber Run

o ~ o ~ o ~ o ~ o

[I'll use you as a warning sign]

He watched her, with a large yellow satchel, disappear into an unremarkable well. Her dark raven hair streaming behind her as she jumped over the ledge and far from his senses, leaving only the light scent of salty tears behind. So that's where the mysterious and equally unremarkable girl hid away.

Sesshomaru had once wondered why his pathetic younger brother would collude with such a strange mortal girl. Then once became twice, and twice became thrice, and so on.

He'd convinced himself that if he discovered the secret, he would be satisfied and could drive thoughts of her from his mind. For what other reason would a great daiyokai have with the affairs of some peculiar girl?

[That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind]

It had taken nearly a week of waiting for Sesshomaru to reap the reward of his patience finally. The girl had not returned to the well right away as he thought she might. What she lingered behind for after his brother's most recent betrayal was beyond him, nor did he care.

He only wanted to see where the gregarious mortal hailed from with bizarre clothes and mannerisms.

That was the only reason he watched and waited. A daiyokai's sense of curiosity was essential to be appeased. A lowly mortal could not understand the inner workings of a complex being such as himself.

[And I'll use you as a focal point

So I don't lose sight of what I want]

He'd remained in the area, much to his imp retainer's chagrin, even after the girl did not reappear.

"Lord, should we not carry on to search for a method to complete the Meidō? Did you not say strengthening Tensaiga was of the utmost importance?" the imp asked.

Sesshomaru bit back the glare and cutting words he had for his lackey. There was no need to make his ludicrous intentions known. "We shall move at the pace I set." He turned his head and watched the small mortal child playing, oblivious to the reality of the world.

"But my master Sesshomaru, the girl is complaining of being bored," Jaken advised in hushed tones. "I told her to keep her whining to herself, and you were not to be bothered with her pandering."

"I'm fine!" Rin called out, appearing over Jaken's head. "I like it here," she concluded with a smile.

Sesshomaru nodded at the child who continued to run and play in her own world.

How odd these humans were. So simple, yet somehow intriguing.

He turned his head unconsciously towards the direction of the well, staring through the trees.

[And I've moved further than I thought I could

But I missed you more than I thought I would]

Even after defeating the blight Naraku, Sesshomaru felt drawn to the well. He'd noticed his brother's return, but also the lack of the miko.

She'd been the key to the Sacred Jewel, and it's undoing.

Perhaps she had been taken into the spiritual realm with the Jewel, or maybe she'd also been erased from existence. Sesshomaru doubted both ideas, settling with the theory she'd just been sent back to her world through the well, her mission here complete.

That would be for the best. A strong-willed woman had no place here.

Yet, his mind continued to drift to the well.

[And I'll use you as a warning sign

That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind]

Even after he'd decided to leave Rin in the village with her own kind, he convinced himself he would not go near the old well. It was no place for him.

Sesshomaru still found himself wandering near the well, curious to look down its depths. Would there be something at the bottom, he wondered. Just this once, he would allow himself to wonder.

He had to wait for his brother, lamenting silently over the woman's disappearance, to vacate the premises.

Once the opportunity presented itself, he stalked up close to the well. Sesshomaru stood several feet away, assessing the plain thing. It seemed to have no purpose, sitting old and unused.

Just one look, and the curiosity will abate. The miko can be purged from my thoughts forevermore, he thought.

Walking close, Sesshomaru placed his hand on the lip of the well. Whatever he thought he might find was not there. An explanation for the strange sensation whenever he lost himself in the thought of the woman was no longer likely. The magic of the place was now dead. Only her scent lingered, strangely enough.

He inhaled the fragrant aroma of the woman's eerie presence; lavender, he concluded—a calming scent, much like the woman herself.

He sucked in a breath at the notion. It was unfathomable for him, Sesshomaru, to think pleasant thoughts of a human woman. What could possibly draw him to a lowly creature?

[And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be]

Sesshomaru would pass by the well each time he came to visit Rin in her new home. Each time he would tell himself, no, but he could hardly deny his indulged interest.

The smell of his brother dissipated from the area. Inuyasha had stopped bothering to visit the well, his hope at the woman's return diminished. It pleased Sesshomaru that he alone had the perseverance to return faithfully—another area where he was superior to the half breed.

The notion held little comfort for him on this day.

[Right in front of me]

It seemed like a day no different than any other.

A pleasant visit with Rin deposited him near the well again and thinking of 'her.' He wondered aimlessly at what she may be doing, where her life had taken her. It was a form of solace to ponder at such meaningless and inane things.

His meandering mind prompted him to stay close to the area that night, which also allowed him the extra benefit of the ethereal scent the wind pushed towards him. The aroma permeated through his reflections until morning when he felt a stirring of unexplained sensations.

Sesshomaru strolled towards that perplexing internal commotion. He could see the well in the distance and also his brother sprinting towards him.

He grabbed at Bakusaiga's hilt in preparation for a confrontation, but that never came. For his brother had no eyes for him.

Inuyasha stopped at the well and peered down with hopeful, desperate eyes.

Sesshomaru watched from his hidden position with a strange twinge in his chest.

He watched as Inuyasha leaned down and extended his arm. Part of Sesshomaru longed for the gesture to be swatted away, but he stared transfixed while his younger, aimless, unworthy sibling pulled her out of the well.

They pulled into an embrace that sent a spasm through Sesshomaru's chest. He casually looked down at himself. What sensation was this? Was he broken? How weak had he become spending his time pandering around a backwater human village and contemplating impossible scenarios?

[Talk some sense to me]

Sesshomaru quickly departed before anyone else could appear and discover his presence.

He soared through the air, lost in thought. Many of those thoughts revolved around maiming or killing his brother, but Sesshomaru could not wholly fathom why. He'd long put his animosity towards Inuyasha, but something ate at him from the inside out.

His brother, the half breed, had something that Sesshomaru, the daiyokai, did not.

He'd found what it was little too late.

Sesshomaru lamented to himself.

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be

Right in front of me