backwards boots

anonymous asked:

26 Uhura/Kirk?

how dare [you]

“Of all-“ She gets him under his arm and pulls.  “-The idiotic-“  Tugs him backwards, his boots scraping twin furrows in the dust.  “-Asinine-“ Heaves him down onto a rock.  “-Harebrained plans, Jim Kirk-“  Puts a finger in his face and those blue eyes blink up at her from beneath a crusted trickle of blood.  “-That was the most ridiculous.”

He grins.

“You could have gotten yourself killed,” she says and bats at his dirty uniform, sweat stained and stuck through with mud, a cloud of dirt billowing with each pat.

He catches her wrists in those big hands of his.

“Didn’t know you cared, Lieutenant.”

She yanks her arms back from him.  Her hands still vibrate with shape of his body beneath her palms and she folds her fingers closed, tight.

“The shuttle’s waiting,” she says and turns, a toss of her hair over her shoulder.

There’s a palm print left in the grime of his shirt.  A smudge of mud under her thumbnail.  Of course I care, she doesn’t say.

||  @avxricious​ ||

Was this place really what he thought it was? Had that shitty bastard really found somewhere good for a change? His eyes drew up to the intricately decorated sign that had been engraved onto several ballooned images of fruity, alluring melons and he could almost taste the juice spilling into his mouth.

Hyde had bought him to a shrine to angels; a melon based cafe and fuck would he ever say it but his narrow eyes hid a plethora of excitable emotions. Shooting a dark look behind him to where Hyde stood, forever the height of a devil, he glanced towards the door. As an angel, he should be welcomed in with bows and beauty.

                           “Why are you standing there like some stalkerish rat? Hurry up and open the door.”

His foot twitched, aching to pull backwards and boot Hyde through the premise but he wouldn’t do that. Not to his beautiful new shine, a home for beings on par with his level of divinity; the melons. Heaven was only a mouthful of deliciousness away and he was ready for it.

Six(-ish) Sentence Sunday

From my upcoming season 2 canon-divergent “Inhuman AU,” tentatively titled The Storm Inside. This is the opening of the fic, and takes place during 2x10.

Darkness. Screaming.

Fitz’s hand almost slipped on the edge of the dark tunnel into which Trip had just vanished, and Jemma grabbed onto his sleeve, screaming after their friend to come back. He turned to her, eyes wide and heart pounding. “We have to go after them.”

Being swallowed whole. Laughing yellow eyes, terrified.

They ran hand-in-hand down a stone corridor, screaming for their friends and clutching each other for dear life. Finally, they saw Trip wedged into an archway, struggling to keep the stone door from closing. “Get her out,” he yelled, out of breath, hands slipping against the rock and boots skidding backwards on the dirt beneath him.

Born again but broken. Walls crumbling.

Fitz squeezed around Trip, into the room where Skye was crying, blaming Raina for the disaster that was upon them. Although he pulled Skye hard towards the entrance, she struggled, not wanting to let the girl no longer in a flower dress get away. Trip let out a desperate grunt, the door slipped another inch closed, and Fitz shoved Skye through the gap, knocking Trip out after her. The door slammed shut before he could even reach a hand through, and he could just barely hear Jemma scream his name.

Stones cracking. Silence. Footsteps.

Raina sighed, teasingly lamenting his impending fate, but Fitz ignored her in favor of trying to pry the floor-to-ceiling door open – to no avail. Dirt gathered underneath his short fingernails, leaving shallow tracks in the stone. On the other side, Jemma screamed for him over and over again, he thought he heard fists pounding uselessly against the door, and Skye called out that Trip had run to get the explosives, that they were going to get him out of there. A blue light reflected on the wall, and Fitz turned, staring at the crystals that emerged from what had once been the alien obelisk. Thinking only that he needed to do something, he grabbed a nearby rock and smashed the crystals into nothingness. A pulse of energy threw him down, his skull cracking nastily against the floor.

And then Leopold Fitz became something completely different.