#fff54

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

Drizzles of Love

A/N: Offering for today’s @flashfictionfridayofficial‘s prompt!

Fluff ficlet feat. Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson from Marvel’s Captain America. Just to make up for the angst earlier. ^-^

Word Count: 477

TW: None

***

A rhythm of tapping rain clatters over a terrace as a door opens, revealing someone entering it while inhaling misty air. Occupying a foyer of a high tower overlooking the city.

He never saw rain from a high view before, Sam thinks, his eyes skating to large clouds pouring quick rain down over New York.

Most members of the Avengers went away for a small mission, leaving him alone with the others, who didn't join. Just as they had left, rain had commenced in light and quick showers. It's been three days at most, so it's a bit surprising to notice signs that it might be going.

He watches gray clouds leave the hazy sky, replaced with a burst of light. A curved line with seven different colors appears beneath the sun. It ascends upwards, casting golden beams of light in several paths. He walks towards a wall, where the rainbow shimmers. He moves a hand to it.

Sam catches a beam of colorful light landing on his palm.

Basking in it's warmth feels as if it's kissing his skin. It also highlights the structure of his face. A smile tugs at his lips when he hears a pair of doors click open.

"Mornin', Sammy," Bucky greets with a yawn.

Sam chuckles, turning to him. "It's already in the afternoon, Buck."

"Ah, damn. Really?" Bucky raises his brows, pouting. "Must have missed breakfast then, and pancakes are gone."

Amused at his behavior, Sam approaches him and pats his shoulder.

"Hey, no worries. Once we get back in, I'll cook some for ya."

"Yeah, except it won't taste the same."

"Didn't you tell me you love my cooking?"

Bucky pulls a face briefly and grins playfully. What a scoundrel, he thinks fondly. He sighs stepping towards him and he waits for his next move.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" Bucky whispers, standing so close to him.

"Yes," Sam whispers back with a smile.

When Sam remains still, Bucky slides an arm around his torso. He sinks into the warmth of his touch. He lays kisses over his face and presses his lips on his. It sends a shot of those chemicals, which scientists associates with love. He revels in it.

Clinging into Bucky's upper arm, Sam's fingertips dance along it until he reaches for his wrist. Bucky lifts it to his face, brushing his lips on the back of his hand with his eyes squeezed shut. He brings it gently closer to him and opens his eyes again. Sam finds colorful light reflected in them.

It fills his heart with a warmth whenever he's around or close by.

Both of them clasp their hands together in light of the rainbow, letting it rest over their skin. They break into laughter as rain falls down again, soaking them. Bucky removes his jacket, carrying it above their heads.

***

[onceuponanaromantic]

step one is to fall (step two is to recover)

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s prompt: FFF54 Rainbow Kisses! Set in Code F&D universe. Italics are Fae-speak and the translations are in the notes. Enjoy!)

Seko.

 Darkness

 Diro.

 Scored walls and black scars along off-white walls. Lightning-sharp scarring pain soaring through her chest.

 Kana.

 Fire burning and particles of dust and ash in her mouth and nose.

 Lira.

 Crumbling floors and despair like the sea-salt pervading her mind.

 Teksi.

 Falling.

 If this had been a book, Aster would have woken at this point. She would have remembered the sudden fall and then darkness and then she would have remembered what happened next. Instead, she wakes up in an unknown bed that smelled of a scent that should have been familiar but wasn’t.

 Saying that she woke up is also incorrect, because Aster doesn’t actually wake. What happens is that she opens her eyes and her entire body starts screaming with the pain of it, and she desperately wishes to go back to sleep but her body, having noticed that she is no longer asleep, is having none of it. She doesn’t wake up as much as she gets dragged into the land of the living against her will. At least she got the time to count to five first.

 The only thing she registers once she’s gotten over the initial shock is that wow, the light is bright and her eyes are not used to this. It’s not so much bright as Aster doesn’t know how long she’s been in the darkness. She sends tendrils of her magic out, but there doesn’t seem to be any active danger.

 There’s a soft scratching sound, rather like the one a pen makes against paper. Aster tries to make words come out of her mouth but can’t quite get them to come out. Her throat feels like someone had force-fed her sand and not the good and soft sand from a beach either. The hard and grainy type from the harbour.

 “Where am I?” She asks, once she manages to get words out.

           “Rather further from home than you ought to be, travoksa.” A voice returns. The scratching stops and there’s the sound of a chair being pushed back. The air shifts around her as someone approaches.

             “Who are you?” Aster does actually realise that if the person before her --wait, no, being before her—is any danger, she isn’t exactly in a position to defend herself, but the question bears asking anyway.

           “Syoko no visokami.” Aster registers and understands the language, even if it isn’t a dialect she’s ever heard before or is familiar with. Okay, so this is at least a faerie. Or, if not a faerie, not someone who’s going to do her harm.

             Aster doesn’t know how she knows that. She doesn’t speak that language actually. It sounds like the language of the faerie, but not the one she’s familiar with. It’s too early for her to be doing deductions so she’s going to trust her instincts here.

             “Syoril! Kivo na mi haeri. Ka vyokso no mi haem?”

           “Ko raesa.”

           She hears a door open and footsteps as someone else enters the room. The footsteps aren’t human; they’re not the taps of human feet, there’s slight scratching and the rustle of scales?

             Aster opens her eyes.

             It’s a dragon.

             Aster would scream if she had the energy. The faerie seems to know it because she looks at Aster as if she can tell. The slightly raised eyebrow is signal enough and translates well enough. Aster can’t help feeling like she’s being slightly scolded.

             Oh lightning, it feels like Ro is doing it at her.

             Oh. Oh shit. Ro.

             “Relax, travoksa, your konira should receive my letter soon. You’re safe for now.”

           Aster thinks she should probably sit up. It is a little bit undignified to be talking while lying down on a bed.

             “How do you know Ro?”

           The faerie’s amused. Aster doesn’t know how she knows, until she extends her magic again and realises that the faerie is using the lattices to show her emotions, even as her face doesn’t change.

             “You’re faerie.”

             Aster doesn’t say anything else for a moment while she tries to remember what happened. Obviously, something’s gone wrong but what exactly has gone wrong is a different matter for Aster to figure out.

             “You broke two ribs and have severe to moderate burns damage around your legs, arms and back. You had an infection in your left leg which is going to leave a scar but has otherwise been treated. I would not advise moving your upper body yet.” The faerie says.

             “I would advise not moving your head either. While the lacerations on your head have been treated, the blunt force trauma of your fall resulted in a concussion. Your senses are still recovering so I would not advise attempting any large degree of magic for at least a moon cycle. This is the second time you’ve woken from your induced coma, so you’ll still be experiencing mild nausea and some pain.”

             Aster realises that the scratchy feeling she noticed when she woke up but dismissed was probably bandages.

             “Thank you.”

           The faerie nods. “Your guardians have been alerted and should be hear within a day. Syoril has already gone to guide them through the Pathways.”

             The faerie smirks. “I daresay your human parent will find travelling along the Rainbow Path a fascinating experience. Hex has informed me that they used to be a physics professor.”

             Aster wants to say something but feels herself drifting to sleep.

             When she next wakes, it’s to Ro pressing a kiss to her forehead. Robin’s there too, but they’re talking to the faerie. The faerie’s voice is slightly accented, now that she’s noticing properly.

             “-yes. Should expect full recovery within two moon cycles-“

           “-you. When letter-“

             “You okay?” Aster pulls away from trying to listen to the conversation between Robin and the faerie with the sudden urge to throw up.

             “’m sorry.” Ro just shakes their head.

           “You’re very lucky that the Guardian found you, you know. You could have died. I still can’t believe that you lucked yourself into getting the actual Guardian of the Pathways to find you.”

             “She called me travoksa, Ro.” Aster remembers.

           “Yeah, well, she’s got the right to. The Witch did raise her after all.”

[phantom-does-a-thing]

This was so hard to think of what to write for but then I remembered I have a whole other huge cast of characters that I haven’t touched since like December.  So we got the lovely James and Aaron from an older wip 3000.  @flashfictionfridayofficial​

325 words

“Aaron,” it was a harsh, urgent whisper in the early hours of the morning.  James smacked Aaron in the chest trying to wake the snake-like man.

“What James?” Aaron slurred over pronouncing the S, not opening his eyes, “it’s still early.”

“It rained earlier,” James explained, pressing his hand to Aaron’s chest as he sat up.

“It rains often here.”

“Look out the window,” James’ tone was bordering on annoyance and childlike excitement.  A tone that Aaron figured only James could manage.

Heaving a sigh, Aaron opened his eyes.  James was sitting up, looking in awe out the large glass patio doors.  The living room floor wasn’t the most comfortable but given the situations it would do.

Aaron followed James’ gaze, “what are you talking about?”

James pulled Aaron to a sitting position and pointed, as if that helped Aaron see what he was seeing.

“It’s too early in the morning for your usual witchy crypticism,” Aaron yawned, leaning against James’ side.

“There’s a rainbow,” James explained, grabbing Aaron’s arm, “I haven’t seen one since I was a child.”

Aaron caught sight of the brightly colored apparition in the sky.  He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Oh.”

James laughed, covering his mouth with one hand, “it’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“I think that you’re weird magic is prettier,” Aaron pressed a small kiss to James’ cheek, James blushed.

“How sweet, my weird magic is a bunch of shadows,” James rested his head on Aaron’s shoulder, intertwining their hands together.

“I have scales and yet you find me attractive,” Aaron raised one eyebrow.

“Not the same thing.”

“It’s pretty close.”

“Shh,” James covered Aaron’s face with his hand, flopping back down on their makeshift bed.

Aaron chuckled and rolled his eyes, “are you going to let me go back to sleep?”

“Possibly.”

“Good enough,” Aaron curled up under the blankets next to James.  He buried his face in the crook of James’ neck.  James was already asleep.

[starklyscifi]

We’ll Be Alright

Another flash fiction Friday in the books! This one’s a deleted scene/epilogue (somewhere at the tail end of the story) from a crime novel I just finished the first draft of. Pure fluff, and I’m not apologizing for anything.

@flashfictionfridayofficial​

Jack was throughly neutral on mornings—at least the concept of mornings. In practice, it took a couple more alarms for him to get out of bed than he maybe wanted to admit. On this particular morning he wandered out into the living room, finding sunshine streaming through the curtains and a certain cute intelligence analyst sitting on his couch, ankle over opposite knee and arm sprawled along the back of the couch.

His boyfriend, on the other hand, was a big fan of mornings. Fiach was always, always up earlier than Jack, relaxed on the couch with the morning news and his first cup of tea. It was oddly comforting, or perhaps that was just the sensation of newly budding rituals.

Jack sank down into the opening presented by Fiach’s arm. Fiach brushed his fingers along the back of Jack’s neck, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Jack said, letting his eyes drift shut as he leaned into Fiach’s touch.

“Didn’t you just get up?” Fiach asked, amused.

Jack made some sort of noise of annoyance deep in his throat before peeling one eye open to glare at his boyfriend. Or try to. It didn’t go very well. As with a lot of things, it ended with Fiach’s laughter. Which would have been far more annoying if it didn’t mean Fiach’s eyes lighting up like that and his crows feet deepening into clear laugh lines.

“I need coffee,” Jack said, slapping the top of his thighs, “You want a refill?”

Fiach narrowed his eyes, “Sure.”

“I’ve figured out how to make tea at this point.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

Jack heaved himself off the couch before that argument went any further. He was a detective for God’s sake, he could figure out how Fiach made his tea. He liked rattled around the kitchen in the mornings, going through the ritual of making coffee—and tea, these days.

Plunking a mug of tea back down on the coffee table, he slid back into his spot, unwilling to think further into the day. He picked up one of the mugs off the table.

“Um, Jack?”

He raised an eyebrow at Fiach over the rim of the mug.

“That’s not—”

Jack coughed as a wildly unexpected sensation filled his mouth. “Coffee, yeah, I got that.”

Fiach wasn’t laughing out loud, but there was that glint in his eye. He took the mug from Jack, setting it on the table while leaning in close and tilting his head.

A light glinted into Jack’s eye, ruining the moment. He squinted, muttering something about stupid crystals in the window. Fiach laughed, dropping his head to Jack’s shoulder.

“Why do we even have that thing?” Jack asked, glowering at the crystal flipping back and forth on its fishing line in the window.

“Because my mother sent it to us,” Fiach mumbled into his shoulder, lips moving against the fabric of his shirt.

This man, this man he’d do anything for. Even let him disrupt his life with dastardly tea bags on the kitchen counter.

Fiach raised his head, and he was laughing again, touching a finger to his cheek. “You look good with a rainbow on your cheek,” Fiach grinned.

Jack groaned and swatted his hand away.

“Why do they call it a rainbow catcher anyway, it doesn’t catch rainbows—it causes them.”

Fiach snorted, hiding whatever amusing thought he had in his tea.

“Drink your coffee, we have to get to work.”