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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 5 years ago

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Turns of Phrase

Prompt: I'd like you to consider: all the sides in the mindscape have the "way too literal" problem, like for example, Virgil actually grows taller when his anxiety is heightened, Patton actually grows wings when Thomas has a 'heart aflutter', e.c.t. But Roman just has a huge stack of negative ones. Creative block, bruised ego, shackled creativity, e.c.t. And then there's h/c when somebody (Logan) sees 👀👀

Thanks for the prompt babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, self-esteem issues, Roman whump

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5722

This is Roman’s fault. Really. It is. He’s the one who works the closest with the Imagination, which means he’s got control over how Thomas interacts with his own imagination, which means that he’s got control over how Thomas sees the Sides.

So yeah. This is his fault.

‘Heart all aflutter.’ ‘Heightened anxiety.’ ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’ All the little innocuous phrases that are just turns of phrase, not supposed to be literal, well…they got into Thomas’s head when he was younger, and since, the Imagination has never quite gotten rid of them. Shouldn’t be too bad, right, this should be something they can deal with.

And for the most part, they do.

Patton wears the hoodie tied around his shoulders to block the chill from the slits sewn in the back of all of his shirts in case the wings decide to pop out again. When they do, everyone crowds around to make sure he doesn’t fly off into the sky or accidentally twist one. The feathers are the softest things you can imagine and work great for stuffing pillows or plushies.

Virgil’s clothes are made of stretchy, baggy material and the doorways are much, much higher than they need to be. There’s a special cupboard tucked high up in the pantry that just has Virgil’s comfort foods in them so he can reach comfortably when he’s tall.

And, well…there’s a reason Janus wears such a long cloak.

For the most part, these are just minor inconveniences. Listen, when you live in a completely imaginary world where you can summon anything you need and change anything you don’t like with a snap of your fingers, things like new clothes or snacks are easy.

Then there’s Roman.

Roman, who is tied most closely to the Imagination.

Roman, who represents not just Creativity, but romance, motivation, desire.

Roman. The Ego.

The problem with throwing around these types of phrases is how easy it becomes to dismiss them. And for Thomas, who has a creative profession, that’s good. For Thomas.

Not so good for Roman.

“Hey, you’ve been having some trouble getting ideas out lately, you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just going through a bit of a creative block at the moment.”

Roman’s fists ache as he pounds on the door, heaving sobs trailing off into hitched gasps as he slumps against the unyielding wood. As a desperate last resort, he throws himself at the door, barely making it shudder in its frame. It’s as if he weighs nothing, not an ounce, unable to make so much as a goddamn dent in the world around him.

“Let me—let me out, please, let me out, I gotta—I want out,” he sobs, over and over, as his room grows smaller and smaller, the walls pressing in around him, blank, sterile, cold, “I wanna—out, let me out, let me out, let me out please—“

He’s not even in his room anymore. He’s in a pure white cage, on the wrong side of a door that will not open.

“Dude, like…reign it in a little bit.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. That’s…like, way too much.”

“I dunno, I think it feels weird if we weren’t doing this.”

“C’mon, it won’t kill you to shackle your creativity a little.”

Roman wakes up to the quiet clinking of metal against metal. He goes to wipe his face and a bolt of pain shoots through his arm. The shackles spread him so far his chest aches, wincing as he tries to turn just a little to avoid the rush of agony that would come from having his arm trapped in the wrong position. At least he was lying down this time, and he’s on his bed. He isn’t being forced to stand the whole time, strung up on the ceiling.

They’re so cold.

The shackles sap the warmth from his body bit by bit, draining it until the weight of the cold pressing down onto his chest is enough to make him gasp. On instinct, he pulls, trying to get a little more of himself wrapped up, warm, safe, but the chains barely make a groan as they wrench him back apart. He grits his teeth and holds still.

He learned not to try and break these. He used to rage and slam against them like a brute, trying to pull their fastenings out of some mystical holder, embodied in his wall, only to come away with bleeding and scraped wrists from his pains, rubbed raw and chafed horribly by the cruel shackles.

For the most part, he’s able to keep the others from noticing. They can’t hear a thing when he’s trapped in the creative block. He’s careful to always wear long sleeves to hide the scrapes and burns from the shackles. They don’t know the true extent of what happens to him when Thomas decides he doesn’t want his creativity.

But he can’t hide all of them.

‘Bruised ego.’

Patton knows. Patton somehow always figures things out and doesn’t tell anyone, least of all Roman. But sure enough, after the audition, Patton showed up outside of Roman’s door and knocked, quietly asking to be let in.

Roman had let him, splattered as he was with blues and purples and greens and yellows, all the colors that didn’t belong to him, and yet here they were, painted on him. He’d kept his undershirt on, letting Patton feed him the soup that was sure to end with Roman lying on his back in the bathroom, panting, until the bowl had run dry and Roman’s smile had come back.

After Patton had gone, the smile had slid off, the paint cracked and chipped. Roman had stood, leaning against the bed for stability, and made his way slowly, oh, so, slowly, to the bathroom.

Getting his shirt off had been agony. Every time he moved skin had stretched, bruises had protested, even his muscles cried out. The undershirt was soaked in sweat and a light sheen had clung to Roman’s body as he stood there, panting, wincing in the mirror. He couldn’t look.

That had been the last time it had gotten very bad. Very bad.

They only ever seemed to notice when it was very bad.

His prince costume hides the shackle marks. His undershirt hid the bruises. No one cared to look for him when he was trapped in the creative block. No one could see. No one wanted to see.

No one knew.

Roman’s been lucky lately.

They’ve all been happening one at a time. The block never has shackles strapped to the wall. The shackles are never clasped around bruises spilling beneath his skin. The bruises are never from both beating on a door and from the outside world. He can deal with them if they’re like this. One at a time.

He’s had a few close calls, though. He almost missed a meeting with Logan because the block had him trapped. It squeezed him so tight it felt as if he hadn’t any room to breathe, not until the door and opened a crack and he’d hurled himself out, panting harshly, rushing to Logan’s. He was caught at his desk recently too. The shackles had formed and dragged him over to the corner where he’d bitten his lip to try and stay quiet as he desperately tried to draw himself away. He’d accidentally made too grand a gesture and his sleeve had ridden up, exposing the edge of a mark or bruise and he’d have to pull it back down quick enough so that no one would notice. And so far, it’s worked.

No one has noticed.

And what would he say? That this is just some dumb stupid thing he has to deal with? The others know about this whole ‘taking things too literally problem,’ look at Patton, look at Virgil, look at Janus. They all understand and they receive the same amount of attention Roman does. Honestly, they’ve been receiving what they’re entitled to. Their stuff actually runs the risk of harming Thomas. Fire, wings, banging your head, sure, that’s fine, but they—look.

Having your heart flutter signifies great emotions, the potential for love, you should pay attention to your emotions!

Heightened anxiety? It’s not great! It means we should be listening to Virgil and what’s going on, what’s upsetting Thomas, how to help.

And everyone should always be worried about spontaneously combusting pants.

And even if they did find out, what is Roman supposed to say? That it’s his fault they all have these issues? That Thomas’s psyche takes certain liberties with the hard-and-fast rules of what happens to metaphysical people? It’s his fault, after all, he’s the conduit. It’s fine. He can handle this stuff. It’s all fine.

He should’ve known his luck would run out.

Roman blinks awake to feel the walls pressing in on him, tighter, tighter, tighter. His breath catches in his throat.

No.

No, no, no, he’d been doing so well, so well, they’d just had a conversation about how he’d been so good, the ideas had been good, he’d had—he’d had so many he was ready to work on, he just needed to—

Roman squeezes his eyes shut, racking his brain. He knows he has ideas. He had them a little while ago. It wasn’t that long. They can’t have vanished so quickly. Wait, what time is it? How did they—how long has he been here? What is—how long has it been? Have the others realized he’s here yet?

What if they look for him and they think he won’t come out? What if they start to hate him because they can’t find him? What if he can never get out again? What if they realized they never needed him in the first place?

He—he’s not wrong, he can’t be wrong, he has to be right, he has to—he has to find a way out of here.

Quickly, Roman squeezes his eyes even tighter, mouth making random shapes as he tries to think. If he can just think of a really good idea, he’ll get out. If he just thinks, if he just does his job, if he’s really good he’ll get out. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this. He can—

Clink, clink, clink.

No.

No!

Roman snarls as the shackles encase his wrists, forcing to his knees, still crouched in this room that is too small, too pale, too awful. He lunges for the door as he hears the chains slowly start to tighten, their long lengths slipping over and over each other in coils.

The chains pull taut and he’s suspended there, in the dank air, snarling like a mad dog at a door that is just out of his reach.

For the first time in a long time, he slams against the chains, raging and bloody as he thrashes back and forth trying to just get to the door—

Roman, you’re on thin fucking ice.

Look I don’t wanna just hate a side but roman you royally fucked up bud

Yeah I’m definitely mad at Roman

Roman barely suppresses a whine when he realizes where the comments are coming from.

His nose breaks open and blood pours down his face. His eyes swell and darken until he can only squint through it. One of his fingers breaks and the shackle pinches.

Roman I have revoked your rights.

Roman shut the FUCK UP challenge please

After one line making fun of janus is enough to be cancelled, Roman

Even without looking down, he knows red and purple are blooming across his ribs. Roman winces pain as he howls again, trying frantically to get to the door, he’ll wrench his arms out of their sockets if he needs to—

I just hate roman!!! i don’t need a deep reason to hate roman, or anyone else

oh boi did Princey drop to least favorite side REAL FUCKING QUICK

It’s not that I don’t despise Roman he’s just never been my favourite. He’s too prideful, rude and while he does have his insecurities the way he hides them makes me uncomfortable since it’s at the expense of other characters. His treatment of the other sides is so awful.

…is he really that awful? Is…does he…is this…

Is this how it’s supposed to be?

I'm gonna spread my anti-roman doctrine. Fuck Roman. Hate that man

I genuinely hate Roman so. Fucking. Much. Like, can't stand him. Fuck him, I hate him

It’s always roman-hating hours.

A dry sob chokes its way out of Roman’s throat as he curls in on himself, another bruise leaving him gasping on the floor like a gutted fish. The chains let him fall to his knees, chest bared to the merciless door. He coughs. Blood flies out of his mouth and spittle drips down his chin. He coughs again. And again. And again. It hurts. Everything hurts.

He coughs.

The room presses in on him.

The shackles trap him.

Bruises bloom over his body.

He coughs.

This is all his fault, isn’t it? He’s the one in charge of the Imagination. He’s the one who makes sure the sides exist and can interact with Thomas. He’s the one who controls how they respond to turns of phrase.

He’s the one who’s awful to the others. He’s the one who didn’t tell them the truth. He’s the one stuck in this room, in these chains, taking a beating from words and thoughts that he can’t see.

This is his fault.

And he doesn’t know if he can fix it.

Roman gives up.

———————————————————

“Has anyone seen Roman?”

Patton looks up from the floor as Virgil rolls over. “No, I haven’t. Virgil?”

Virgil sniffs and shakes his head. “You asked Remus?”

Logan frowns. “I can’t find them anywhere. Do you know if—“

“Where the fuck is my brother?”

“Nevermind, I found him,” Logan mumbles as he turns just fast enough to avoid Remus barreling into him. “I was just coming to ask you.”

“He was supposed to meet me by the Imagination,” Remus says, bouncing up and down, “we were gonna go exploring. He hasn’t been by all day. Where are you hiding him?”

“I’m not hiding him,” Virgil yawns, “and neither’s Pat.”

“Nope! No princes here!”

“Pocket Protector?”

“No, I need to ask him about tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” Remus throws himself down on the couch. “Where’s Snakey? Maybe he knows.”

“What do I know?”

“Ah.” Logan turns to see Janus striding out from the shadows near the staircase. “We seem to be unable to locate Roman.”

Janus raises an eyebrow and flicks a speck of dust from his gloves. “What an unfortunate situation. My deepest apologies.”

“So you don’t know where he is.”

“Of course I don’t, why would I?” Janus rolls his eyes. “It’s not like you’ve checked everywhere for him.”

Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Janus…please.”

“Have any of you even tried his room?”

“Of course we have, that’s where I looked first.”

Janus shrugs. “Then I guess our little prince has wandered away. What a shame.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Maybe he just stepped out for a minute. Why don’t you go look again, L, we’ll check down here.”

“Oh, will we?”

“J, I swear—“

Logan quickly heads back up the stairs as Virgil and Janus start bickering. He turns the corner and is soon faced with Roman’s big red door. He reaches out to knock.

“Roman? Are you in here?”

Silence. Logan sighs and goes to turn away when he hears it.

He stops.

Goes back.

“Roman?”

He puts his ear to the door.

A soft gasp.

“Roman, can you open the door please?”

“L-L—Lo—“

Logan swallows heavily. “Roman, I’m coming inside.”

“L-Logan…”

Logan pushes open the door.

He can feel his face go sickly pale.

Roman is lying on the ground, collapsed in a pool of what looks like blood. His face is swollen, his nose broken, his mouth barely forming the shapes to say Logan’s name. His prince costume is mangled. His wrists are rubbed raw. Even from this far away Logan can see the bruises forming all over his body.

“Roman!”

There are shouts from downstairs. The others are worried. Good. Logan’s going to need all the help he can get. He just has to move first.

Oh, Roman…

“L? L, what’s going on up there?”

“First aid,” Logan gasps, then clears his throat, “we need the first aid kit! Roman’s hurt!”

“What? How’d he—he hasn’t even been in the Imagination yet today!”

“We can figure that out when we’re up there, Remus, go go go!”

By the time the others are already rushing up the stairs, Logan has already crouched down next to Roman’s head, trying to figure out the best way to get him up, off the floor, or at the very least figure out what happened.

“Stay with me, Roman,” he murmurs, petting Roman’s head as his other hand starts to carefully test where it might be hurting, “stay with me, come on…”

“Lo? Lo, are you in here?”

“No, wait, don’t—“

Patton’s cry of dismay quickly followed by Virgil’s curse means he’s too late to warn them. Logan looks up to see their faces drop in absolute shock.

“Where are the others?”

“Uh…” Virgil tears his gaze away from Roman’s crumpled figure. “Remus said he…he has some stuff that would help.”

“And I am of course more than eager to see what our favorite little prince has gotten himself into this time,” Janus drawls, still out of sight, “I’m positively brimming with anticipation.”

Patton still hasn’t recovered. Virgil carefully takes the first aid kit from his hands and rushes it to Logan. An instant later, Janus appears in the doorway.

“My, my, Patton, you look so startled, what could possibly…”

Janus trails off as he finally spots Roman. His eyes widen as he takes in the bruises, the blood, the marks of what look like prison cuffs?

“Oh, god…” Logan blinks and Janus is crouched beside them, his hands hovering over Roman’s broken form as he starts crooning to the prince.

“Oh, honey, what happened to you,” he murmurs, his hands starting to pull away the fabric cutting into Roman’s throat, “you poor, poor thing…”

“Got it.”

Remus appears in a flash, crouching down as well as Janus and Logan start to help Roman unwind from the bloody mess he’s in. Logan glances over; it’s a kit that has more medical supplies than the first aid kit. Bandages, he can see antiseptic, surgical towels…

He catches Remus’s eye and they exchange a nod.

“Where does he need to go,” Janus asks as they start to get Roman upright, “you want him downstairs?”

“Let’s get him to our bathroom, J,” Virgil suggests, carefully getting his arms around the prince’s shoulders.

“Do you think it’s safe to sink with him?”

“Presumably he had to sink out to get back to his room, but I’m not sure it would be wise.”

“So we’ll carry him,” Virgil says firmly, “all of us.”

As it turns out, Remus and Janus can help Virgil just fine. Logan snatches up Remus’s kit as Patton grabs the first aid kit, hustling down the corridor to keep up with the others.

“Lo, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Logan mutters back, “but I…I don’t think it was…the Imagination’s been closed all day, hasn’t it?”

“That’s what I thought too. You don’t think—“

“I don’t know, Patton, I…”

Patton’s firm grip on his arm speaks volumes as they finally get to the bathroom.

The tile is already warm as the others carefully lay Roman down in the big place near the edge of the shower. Logan takes a moment to check what they might need.

The bathroom is one big open space with a tub in one corner, a large walk-in shower area at the other, and two sinks with a wide counter. Patton and Remus have already started setting up the first aid kit as Janus pulls on a different pair of gloves. Virgil still has Roman’s head in his hands, murmuring softly to him.

“Is he awake?”

Virgil shakes his head as Logan sits down. “I can’t tell. He’s looking around but I—he’s not saying anything.”

“That is not completely unexpected,” Logan murmurs, “we have to get him out of his clothes. They’re making it harder for him to breathe.”

“Someone needs to stay by his head,” Remus calls, “in case he wakes up and starts freaking out.”

“I’ve got him.” Sure enough, Janus slips two of his hands gently under Roman’s head as he unclips the back of his collar. “Shh, shh, easy, sweetie, you’re safe now.”

Virgil scoots back and starts tugging on his hoodie strings. Patton, still hovering by the medical supplies, catches it.

“Hey, Virge,” he says, shooting a quick nod at Logan, “why don’t we go make something to eat? Something small, and something to drink.”

“Yeah…yeah that’s a good idea.”

As the two of them leave, Remus kneels by Roman’s feet and curses. “We’re gonna have to cut them off.”

“You mean cut the rest of them off,” Janus mutters, “what happened?”

“You think I’m not beating myself up asking that same thing?”

“We have to get Roman stable,” Logan says quickly, “and that means we have to see what—“

“The damage is,” Remus growls.

“Quite.”

“Alright. Be careful by his wrists.”

“We will.”

“Jan if you drop his head I swear to—“

“I won’t, I promise.”

“…I know.”

“You’re worried about your brother,” Logan whispers as they start peeling the clothes away, “we understand.”

Janus keeps his promise, cradling Roman’s head as the work to get the rest of his prince costume off. Under any other circumstance, Logan admits this might actually be read as amusing. Peeling Roman out of his clothes, however, has never been less devastating.

Every inch they pull back reveals more bruises. Roman’s torso is warm, throbbing, carpeted with horrible wounds. Every so often a piece will stick and Roman winces, prompting Janus to stroke his face carefully, murmuring reassurances that they’re here, everything’s okay, Roman’s safe now.

Remus chucks bruise cream at Logan and they start, methodically applying the cream and bandages. Janus gives them an extra hand where they need it, while keeping up the constant litany of reassurances. Logan comes away confident that nothing is broken, just very badly bruised.

“So what now?”

“He has to rest.” Logan pulls off the gloves, running his hand over the ground to make sure they haven’t spilled anything. “I…I don’t know how long that will be.”

“I don’t want to leave him.”

They look around, eyes wide at the strangled whisper coming out of Remus. Remus stares down at Roman’s bruised form, thankfully clear of blood now, his hands trembling as they rest on his knees. Remus looks up at them, his eyes glistening.

“The last time I left him like this it was bad.” He swallows and looks back down. “I’m not leaving my brother.”

Logan looks at Roman. Brave, strong, sweet, kind Roman. Bruised, scared, exhausted, broken Roman. His hand tightens and without thinking he tucks a stray hair behind Roman’s ear.

“He hates it when his hair is out of place,” he murmurs as Janus raises an eyebrow at him.

“We’re not leaving our prince,” Janus says firmly, glancing back at Remus. “Would you like to come sit up here with us?”

Remus shakes his head. “If something comes through that door trying to get him,” he says in a low voice that Logan has never heard before, “it’s going to have to get through me first.”

Logan nods. They take up their watch. Remus’s hands twitch every so often, and Logan sees him lay his hand on an unbruised part of Roman’s ankle when they do with a tenderness that takes him a little aback. Janus can’t seem to stop running his hands through Roman’s hair, making comforting noises every time Roman winces as he breathes.

Logan, well…Logan is trying desperately to figure out what happened.

Roman hasn’t been in the Imagination today. Remus was waiting and he hadn’t seen him.

Roman hasn’t been seen by anyone else all day.

The last place Roman was seen was in his room.

No one else has been in Roman’s room today.

“Logan,” Janus calls softly, “Logan, you’re shaking.”

Logan looks down. Oh. So he is. He takes a deep breath and takes Janus’s offered hand. “I’m…thinking.”

“About…?” Janus indicates Roman.

He nods sharply. “I’m having trouble coming to anything but a most troubling conclusion.”

“What?”

Logan explains. Janus goes pale.

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t want to think that, no.”

“R-ro-Bro,” Remus whispers, “oh, Ro-Bro, you gotta tell us something when you wake up.”

He sniffles.

“Please wake up, Ro-Bro. I gotta…I gotta kick your ass for blowing me off and getting into a fight without me, I gotta—you gotta tell me what kicked your ass so I can go put it in the fucking ground…” He sniffs again, his whole body tense, even as his hand remains gently on Roman. “You just gotta wake up, Ro.”

After a little while longer, Virgil and Patton return carrying snacks and drinks. Remus doesn’t even look as Virgil sets his octopus water bottle at his elbow. Janus murmurs a thanks and eats a little. Logan eats and drains about half of his bottle. Virgil sits at Remus’s side, Patton at his other.

“Has he woken up yet?”

Remus shakes his head.

“He’s probably just sleeping, Remus, he needs to rest.”

“I know.”

“Do we know what happened,” Virgil asks quietly, “at all?”

Logan winces. “Well…”

“…don’t like the way you said that.” Judging by Virgil’s expression, he likes it even less after Logan’s finished explaining.

“Oh, shit.”

Everyone’s gaze instantly snaps to Patton. Listen. Patton doesn’t curse. It’s a thing. When Patton curses it’s bad.

“Patton?”

“Roman…Roman has a thing,” Patton explains, “you know like…like my wings? Or how Virgil gets taller?”

Virgil nods. “Yeah, okay, but those don’t…hurt us, why would Roman’s…”

Janus is the next one to curse. “Of course…the bruised ego.”

Patton nods sadly. “Roman takes, well, it’s not really his choice, Roman is forced to take the brunt of the negative reactions Thomas has. That’s part of his thing.”

Logan’s eyes widen. “Wait, but if this has been happening since…well, since Thomas has had an ego, and we didn’t know about this, then…”

How many times has this happened?

Remus growls. “New rule: no one is allowed to fuck with Roman.”

No one dares disagree. Logan scans over the injuries again. He frowns.

“Hold on…some of these seem…consistent with that judgment, but then why…”

A faint groaning sound snaps him out of his musings. A tense silence falls in the bathroom as Roman starts to stir in Janus’s hands.

“Roman,” Logan calls softly, “Roman, can you hear me?”

“L’gan?”

“Yes, Roman, I’m right here. Don’t try and move too much right now, you’re very hurt.”

Roman blinks up at them, his eyes focusing glassily on Janus, who smiles. He tucks another piece of hair away from Roman’s face.

“Shh, shh, my prince, hold still,” he coos, “you’re awfully banged up, sweetie, just hold still…shh…”

“J’nus? What’s…where is…” Roman’s face swivels back to Logan. “Where am I?”

“You’re on the bathroom floor, Roman, we had to see to your injuries.”

Roman’s eyes go wide and immediately all of them reach out to hold him still as he tries to move.

“Shh, shh,” Janus shushes, “none of that now, sweetie, you’re hurt, calm down…”

“I’m—I have to—“

“You’re not going anywhere,” comes Remus’s voice from behind them.

“Remus!”

“What? He’s not!”

“Yeah, but there’s no reason to scare the shit out of him.”

“I can’t see,” Logan hears Roman’s frantic whisper as he turns to glance at the others, “I can’t—let me—“

“Logan, is it safe for him to sit up?”

Logan nods. “Just take it slow, nothing too fast. It will probably be the best if he can lean against someone.”

“Jan—“

“I’ve got you, sweetie, I’m not going anywhere.”

When Roman is upright, his back against Janus’s chest, only then do Virgil and Patton relax the slightest bit. Remus doesn’t. Logan’s gaze switches anxiously between the two.

“Remus—“ Roman swallows— “Re, are you—are you mad at me?”

“A little.”

Roman shrinks under Remus’s glare. “I’m sorry.”

“Jeez, Ro, it’s not—I’m not mad at you like that,” Remus mumbles, “it’s mainly just—well, our thing is…you know, cat pile.”

“You’re—you’re mad because you can’t lie on top of me right now?”

“Yeah! It always makes you feel better! And now I can’t help you feel better!”

“R-Re—“

Remus lets out a wounded noise and surges forward, careful to avoid barreling into any of the others as he wraps his brother in a protective hug. Janus huffs lightly but stays upright. Roman’s eyes close and his head drops to rest against Remus’s.

“I’m the only one allowed to fuck with you,” comes Remus’s muffled voice, “no one else.”

“I know,” Roman whispers, “I know.”

Logan swallows heavily. “Roman,” he prompts softly, “we aren’t mad at you. We won’t get angry with you.”

“...promise?”

“I promise.”

“Promise.

Janus just squeezes Roman’s shoulder gently. “I promise too, sweetie. Now, will you tell us what happened?”

“I, um…” Roman’s gaze flickers over to Patton. “Have you—um…”

“I’ve told them a little, sweetheart,” Patton says when Roman can’t finish his sentence, “we’ve figured out the ‘bruised ego,’ is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

Roman nods. He turns his head back towards Remus, his face contorted. Logan carefully reaches out to ruffle his hair.

“Take your time,” he whispers, “we’re not going anywhere.”

“I have three,” Roman blurts out after a moment.

“…three, honey?”

“Patton has…the wings, Virgil has the height, Janus…Janus…”

“Has the pants.”

Janus lightly flicks Remus’s head, shaking his head fondly.

“Are you saying you’ve got three turns of phrase, Princey?” Roman nods. “Okay. Is one of them ‘bruised ego?’”

“Mhmm.”

“Okay. Are you comfortable telling us the other two?”

Goosebumps rise on Roman’s arms and Janus carefully positions them so Logan can help rub them away. Remus growls protectively and huddles closer.

“…creative block,” Roman murmurs, only for Remus to tense. Remus raises his head slowly.

“Ro-Bro?”

“I, um, my room—my room shrinks and I—I can’t get out the door, I can’t move anything, I can’t breathe, I—“

“Shh-shh-shh,” Janus soothes instantly, “you’re safe, my prince, you’re in the bathroom with us, you’re not there, you’re not there.”

There are a few tense seconds of deep breaths.

“…what’s the third one, Roman?”

Roman looks at his wrists, turning them over as if he doesn’t recognize them. “…shackled creativity.”

Patton clenches his fists as Virgil muffles another curse. Remus follows Roman’s gaze, the line of his shoulders growing tenser by the second. Janus carefully laces his fingers through one of Roman’s hands, Logan lacing his through the other.

“Thank you for telling us, Roman,” he murmurs, “and…I do not know how much this is worth to you, but…we are so sorry this happens and that we could not do anything about it.”

“It’s okay,” Roman murmurs, “it’s my own fault.”

The bathroom falls silent.

“…Roman, it’s not your fault.” Virgil scoots closer. “How—this isn’t your fault.”

“Isn’t it? I’m the one that’s the closest to the Imagination,” Roman says softly, completely convinced of what he’s saying, “I’m the one that makes it possible for Thomas to see us…the Sides, the Imagination…isn’t that my job?”

“Not like that,” Logan says firmly, “never like this.”

“Logan’s right,” Virgil says when it looks like Roman’s about to argue, “you’re the conduit for the Imagination, but you’re not responsible for everything that this place does, let alone how Thomas interprets and internalizes stuff.”

“None of this is you, Roman.” Janus rests his cheek against the top of Roman’s head. “None of it. It’s not Patton’s fault he grows wings, it’s not Virgil’s fault he grows taller, and it’s not your fault that this happens to you.”

“You’re missing someone off the list there, Jan-Jan.”

“Remus, I swear to god—“

Remus cackles, throwing his head back as Janus swats at him. Of course, the problem is that they all try and look mildly annoyed at Remus, and yet the instant it makes Roman giggle, even a little, they all have to break character because Roman’s smiling again.

“Seriously, Ro-Bro,” Remus says after a moment, “this isn’t on you. You don’t deserve this or some other fucked-up shit. This is fucked up all on its own. You’re not responsible for this.”

“We’ll talk to Thomas,” Logan says, “about…negative feedback and internalizing things, alright? This isn’t healthy, Roman, it’s not—it’s not supposed to be like this, and it’s definitely not your fault.”

“…okay.”

“Can you say that for me, sweetie,” Janus coaxes, reaching around to cup Roman’s face, “that it’s not your fault?”

“I-it’s not—“

Roman stops. Swallows heavily.

“Go on, my prince, you can do it.”

“…I-it’s not my fault.”

“Good.”

“It isn’t my fault.” Roman’s eyes go wide and something hitches in his throat. “It is—isn’t—I—oh, god—“

They catch Roman as he starts to cry.

“You did so well, sweetheart, so well, I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s okay, Princey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I’ve got you, my prince, I have you.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Ro-Bro, I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

“You don’t have to do this alone, Roman.”

Roman rests there, in the arms of his family, bruised and exhausted, but not broken.

Not anymore.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @private-snippers @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @such-a-dumbass

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soramei · 4 years ago

Text

Intentional - Part 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 7.3k

Masterlist

A/N: hey yall this is my first ff im posting on tumblr :D im kinda scared to post but i hope anybody who stumbles on lil ol’ me will join me along the way :) also important!!! i made oc/reader asian cus i am lol (and this whole thing is basically a glorified self insert) so plz keep this in mind when reading!! oh god i didnt realize how slow this first part was sry...

The cold silence of the room felt like stabs at your inside. You commanded your feet to stop bouncing up and down as you unconsciously started to bite off the dead skin of your bottom lip. The white corporate light from above reflected off your brand new lanyard hanging delicately from your neck. You felt the coarse blue fabric rub against your neck as you mindlessly fiddled with your lanyard; the newly printed photo of your face stared back at you with a smile.

The creak of the door to your left was what broke you from your nervous fidgets. Whipping your head up from your lanyard, you immediately stood up ready to bow to whoever came through that door.

It was a girl. She looked around the same age as you, if not older. Her attire was what gave her away. Her appearance essentially mirrored yours: hair tied back into a ponytail with a white blouse and black work pants. She also had the familiar blue ‘JYPE’ labeled strap hanging from her neck.

“Hello,” you spoke meekly, scared to disturb the cold silence that had a hold on the room you were in.

“Hello,” she replied. “My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern and today is my first day.”

This is so relieving, you thought, another newbie to share the stress with me.

“This is my first day too,” you perked up, “I’ll be starting as the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.”

Getting the acceptance email from JYP Entertainment was definitely a high point in your life. The feeling of butterflies swarming your insides as you clicked the email open only to see your acceptance was immediately locked as a core memory. All the years of memorizing thousands of Korean and English vocabulary flashcards, the panic attacks before your finance exams, and the many, many late night coffee breaks were worth it the moment you received your first legitimate job offer, and from the esteemed JYP Entertainment company no less.

“Chinese marketing?” Na-eun asked. “So you aren’t from here, I take it.”

You shook your head. “I am from China. I completed my degree a while ago with a major in Language and a minor in Business. To be honest, I’ve done internships back home, but it’s been my dream to move to a new country.”

All of what you said was true. Up until now, your surroundings have never changed in all of your twenty-three years living. From the walk with your grandmother to daycare to the vast campus of your university, the view of your city has never changed. Your social circle stayed stagnant since you were able to talk and your love life was — for a lack of a better word — uneventful.

It wasn’t until the day you decided to start applying for careers outside your home country that you felt hopeful. Hopeful that you could find an escape from your inert lifestyle and escape the burnout and stress that has been building up over the years. And so, on a day when you were feeling unusually confident, you gathered up the courage and spent hours sending out applications to organizations all over Asia that pertained to your specific degree. The applications were mainly for small jobs at small companies, however, your strange spike of motivation gave you the confidence to apply to the everso esteemed JYP Entertainment located in Korea. Of course you knew about this company — you and your friends played songs by ‘Twice’ nonstop back in highschool — but you didn’t realize the full power that this company had on the entertainment market until you did your full research. To say that you thought you had no chance was an understatement. This application was so far of a reach that you purposefully forced your mind to erase all memory of even applying.

However, with your education, your work experience, and whatever tiny bit of luck you had, you somehow made it through the initial application process. Then the next. And the next. Then the interview. And now, you were nervously sitting in this white painted room with Na-eun, in a completely new country, waiting for your manager to come greet you.

“So you’re from China? You’ve got to teach me chinese sometime.” Na-eun smiled.

You giggled in return while nodding your head. You were relieved that you’ve met a potential friend so early in your career in this company. This was one of your big worries. With your social circle being so stagnant for the majority of your life back in China, you rarely had the opportunity to meet new people, much less make new friends.

You were about to inquire more into Na-eun’s life when the door to your left abruptly opened. In the blink of an eye, three new people strutted in — two women and one man. They seemed to be higher status than you and Na-eun judging by their attire. All three were styled in some type of blazer and dress pants and there was no lanyard to be found on any of them.

“Hello new employees,” the man greeted. Judging by his face, he looked to be in his late thirties at the least. His hair was styled back neatly and his lips slanted up, giving him a fox-like appearance. “I am Executive Manager Kim. Joined beside me on the left is Social Media Manager An and to my right is Marketing Manager Chen.”

Both you and Na-eun immediately stood up to bow and introduce yourselves.

“Hello. My name is Choi Na-eun, I’m the new social media strategist intern.” Na-eun said.

“Hello. My name is y/n, I’m the new junior Chinese marketing assistant.” You repeated after her, copying exactly what she said. You did not want to screw anything up on your first day, especially your first impression.

Manager Kim reached over to Na-eun, introducing himself and giving her a firm handshake. He then slowly moved over to you, and reached for your hand.

“Y/n,” he gave time for your name to settle on his tongue as he gave a sly smile. “You’re not from here, aren't you?”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No, sir. I’m from China where I studied language and business. I hope to do well here as the Chinese marketing assistant.” You replied, mentally cursing yourself for sounding so timid.

“I’m glad to hear,” Manager Kim chuckled, “I’m sure you’ll treat me and your other managers well.”

You felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you as he brushed his thumb along your hand before letting go. This feeling was excused as nervousness, after all, this was your first day and your first time meeting your higher-ups.

You introduced yourself to Manager Chen, assuming that she would be the one you were to assist in your time here at JYPE. Judging by her last name, you presumed that she was Chinese as well.

“Forgive me for being so straight up Manager Chen, but are you Chinese?” You asked.

“That is alright, y/n,” she smiled, “I’m not. My Husband is, but I’ve lived in China for more than half my life. I don’t want to brag, but my mandarin has gotten proficient over the past decade or so.”

Proficient? It’s amazing. You thought. This first day was turning out better than you thought. Other than the weird feeling you received from Manager Kim, everything was turning out splendid. A potential friend and a manager that could speak your first language.

“Since it’s about noon right now,” Manager Kim took a look at his watch, “What do you all think about some lunch?”

The other managers nod their heads in agreement and gestures for you and Na-eun to follow them out of the waiting room you were in for so long.

The whole building seemed so clean. With every corner lit, by natural light or artificial light, you could clearly see that every room, every piece of furniture and decor had been purposefully placed. You couldn’t help but have a stupid look of awe plastered on your face as you mindlessly follow your superiors over to the cafeteria.

You turned your head over to Na-eun and gave her a tilt of the eyebrow, silently saying wow, this is where we work.

With the turn of a corner and several silent strides, your little group made it to the cafeteria.

The difference between your claustrophobic waiting room and this vast room was astonishing. With countless tables and romantic yellow lighting, this place almost resembled a five star restaurant. You’ve never seen a cafeteria as extravagant and clean as this before. However, to be fair, you’ve never had the experience of working with such a large corporation before.

The managers led you to the serving station where you grabbed yourself a tray and proceeded to spoon small portions of rice and side dishes onto your plate. This cuisine was different to what you were used to, but nonetheless looked delicious. You were prepared for the small cultural differences, especially with the food, but from everything you’ve witnessed so far, the culture shock would be easier to overcome than what you’ve anticipated.

“Have this soup y/n,” Manager Kim’s grating voice came from in front of you, interrupting your inner monologue. “It’s good for your complexion.”

As Manager Kim hands over the bowl of soup, you feel the sleeve of his blazer brush up against your shoulder, causing the pit of your stomach to drop.

First day nerves. That was what this feeling was. You thought.

You quietly thanked him with a small nod and walked briskly from the service line, trying to find where Na-eun went with the other two managers. Thankfully, they were just a step away and you quickly made your way over to the comfortable spot beside Na-eun. She gave you a small grin and you both followed your way to a table right in the middle of the room.

Soon, all five chairs of the table got filled and sounds of chopsticks tapping and scraping against plates and bowls filled your ears. An awkward silence dominates your table as you start to pick at your food.

“So,” Manager Chen cleared her throat, “after lunch I was thinking we should go to a meeting room and discuss Miss. Y/n’s role in our new project.”

“I was thinking the same for our new Intern Choi.” Manager An cut in, “What do you think, Manager Kim?”

“It all sounds good. I will be accompanying Manager Chen to her meeting room as I wish to also further discuss the preliminary steps for our project.” Manager Kim looked from Manager Chen over to you.

“Project?” You ask.

“We’ve had a very successful year with our idol groups and we wanted to ride this success and start marketing in China. Recently, we’ve noticed a very large and growing Chinese audience for this group. I’m sure you’re very curious now, however we can discuss further details once we are in the meeting room.” Manager Chen replies while taking a sip of the water in her glass.

Manager Chen appeared to be a very professional and respectable woman. With prominent collarbones and wide shoulders, she easily looked the part of a confident and adored manager. She needed minimal makeup to highlight her tall cheekbones, and even with a short heel on her feet she seemed to tower over you. However, her warm and comforting voice was what broke her intimidating demeanour. Just listening to her voice felt like you were back in your high school classroom with your favourite teacher explaining the motif of a sad love poem.

After some more awkward conversations mixed with a few work discussions, the five of you finished the delicious food on your trays.

“Please excuse me whilst I head to the restroom” Na-eun spoke up after your group finished clearing the table.

“Please excuse me as well.” You quickly followed, bowing as you both ventured off to the washrooms.

I should get her number so I’m not completely a loner in this place, you thought to yourself. And so, after a quick inner struggle to speak up, you finally decided to ask.

“Hey, should we exchange contacts? I don’t wanna look like the newbie eating in the cafeteria alone after today.” You chuckled.

“Totally!” Na-eun beamed. “I was actually thinking the same thing…”

And so, you both quickly exchanged each other's contact as you made your way to the restrooms.

The hall of the washrooms were narrow, hidden away from the main cafeteria. You walked in, deciding you only wanted to retouch your hair and makeup before your first official meeting. You carefully fix the loose hairs that somehow escaped the confines of your elastic and dab on a fresh layer of foundation before applying your lipstick which rubbed off while eating. Looking over at Na-eun, you see she’s quite in the zone redoing her mascara.

“Hey, I’ll just wait for you in the hall.” You said.

Na-eun gave you a disinterested nod back as she kept focusing on her mascara.

You walked to the end of the hall, leaned against the wall, and pulled out your phone. Smiling, you opened the virtual Tamagotchi app and saw your little friend staring back at you, bouncing up and down. The bundle of virtual pixels happily bounced as you fed and bathed it, making you happier in return. Playing this game, you were so entranced with your phone that the abrupt closing of the washroom doors broke you out of your hypnosis fast, causing you to flinch and drop your phone.

You looked up, only to see a brown haired man wearing a long sleeved black shirt. The hem of his sleeve fell, covering his hand as he bent down to pick up your phone. He stood back up, fully facing you now and you immediately recognized who he was. You weren’t a fool, of course you did all your research on the artists of JYPE before applying for the job. Looking down at you right now, holding your phone in his hand, was Bang Chan of Stray Kids.

The wispy tufts of his brown hair bounced over his forehead as he stepped over to you. He smiled, his dimple poking out of his cheek, and handed your phone back to you. “I think you dropped this.”

Blushing tomato red, you embarrassingly accepted the phone, trying not to make your shaking hands noticeable. It seemed like that failed, however, as you noticed him glance at your hands and dimple grow deeper.

“Thank you.” You meekly chirped and lowered your head, still in awe that you somehow bumped into a JYPE idol in the bathroom hallway of a cafeteria.

“It’s good that there’s no cracks.” Bang Chan said, looking in your eyes.

You looked back into his eyes. His smile never left his face, and you physically felt the warmth radiating off his body like rays from the sun. Some boring, objective part of your brain knew this interaction only lasted a fraction of a second, but you swore that time froze.

“Hyung!” A distant voice called.

Your trance was broken as Bang Chan looked over to the person calling his name. He turned back to you, politely bowed, and casually sauntered over to the man who called him.

What just happened? Your inner monologue ran, still trying to process the embarrassing interaction. The scent of his cologne lingered, swirling the atmosphere around your body.

Thankfully, you didn’t have too much time to dwell on this interaction as Na-eun finally opened the washroom doors and was making her way toward you.

You and Na-eun trailed behind the managers until you reached the set of elevators. It was there where you had to unfortunately separate from your comfort work buddy as she hopped in the elevator across from yours with Manager An. The other two managers led you to the elevator at the end and pressed the button for your destination floor. The ride in the elevator was silent. You stood there, fiddling with your nails.

Once the elevator gave the ding of arrival, the three of you headed down a hall where you presumed had the meeting room.

Manager Kim took a look at the watch on his wrist. “We are a minute late, everybody should be there already. Enter silently and respectfully.” He said in a stern voice.

You reached the frosted glass door of the meeting room and entered through the already opened door. The managers followed behind you with Manager Chen being the last one in and closing the door.

Your eyes widened at whom you saw.

There was Bang Chan, who sat in all his glory, staring right into your eyes with his mouth ajar. His shocked expression didn't last long, however, as he quickly composed himself to fit with the professional atmosphere of this room.

But why was he here? You thought. He’s an artist, isn’t this a management meeting?

Your inner monologue was broken by Manager Kim’s stern voice. “Y/n, why don’t you sit with me for today?” He asked with a slight tilt of the lips. His hand was hovering above your back, almost guiding you to the seat just right of the head chair.

Your heart rate quickened. There was no way that you could handle sitting right beside a high position manager on your first day. You barely knew what your duties entailed, you definitely could not handle the pressure of this seat today. You whipped your head around to look for Manager Chen. She was already sitting in her seat, looking like she was right at home.

“Manager Kim, if you don’t mind, I would like to sit in this position for today, '' a voice spoke up, “I have a lot of new ideas I’d like to share that are written in my notes.”

Bang Chan.

He paused a brief second, eyes switching between you and Manager Kim, and raised his iPad to show the screen filled with words.

“I don’t mind at all, go ahead.” Manager Kim monotonously replied. He then made his way to the head chair.

You looked over at Bang Chan, trying to subtly send the most grateful facial expression over to him. He returned your look, slightly grinning as his fingers tapped on the screen of his iPad and sat down to the right of Manager Kim. You looked over to see Manager Chen gesturing you to sit in the chair beside her and swiftly made your way over. At your seat, she handed you a notepad and pen, both adorned with the JYPE logo.

“Now, as of 1:02 p.m., September first, the meeting will officially begin.” Manager Kim clasped his hands together on top of the table. “As most of you already know, we are in the preliminary stages of planning a Chinese debut for our artist group ‘Stray Kids’. All we have right now is the estimated timeline, which is four months. We have a basic grasp of the concept we are working towards, however, as you all know, trends are always changing and growing. While we are working to create a new and original concept for Stray Kids, we also want the concept to gather as much audience reception as possible.”

Wow. That was a lot to take in. Your hands struggled to keep up with writing down what Manager Kim was saying. You knew this relatively new group was really starting to explode in the past year, but a debut in another country? This group must work really hard to even have the company consider a step as risky as this. So this is why Bang Chan is also involved in this meeting.

You peaked your head up from your notepad. Bang Chan sat across from you, one hand on his chin and the other one holding the pen to his tablet.

Manager Kim then carefully discussed the duties that each group in the room would take. Many of the jobs were directly involved with developing the concept itself, such as producing music, concept art, and theme development. Your pen never took a break from gliding on the notepad as you hurriedly jotted down everything that Manager Kim said.

Eventually, Manager Kim’s delegations moved to Manager Chen. “Manager Chen, I’ll let you take over from here.”

“Thank you Manager Kim,” Manager Chen cleared her throat. “While my main job here was to market Korean comebacks towards the Chinese audience, this new project changes things up a bit. Now, not only will I be in charge of marketing to the Chinese audience, but I will also be directly in charge of the concept itself. I will be working carefully with our team in China to monitor the trends which we can incorporate into our debut.

“This is my new assistant, y/n,” She turned and gestured to you. You politely nodded your head. “She will be gathering information on useful trends and reporting back to me, as well as some translating. Please report any ideas that you deem useful to her by the end of every week for her to sort through and deliver to me.”

You almost want to call Manager Chen crazy for giving you so much power, after all, you were only starting out as her assistant. Despite this, however, you were determined to go above and beyond with the new responsibilities given to you, after all, you knew that choosing to work in an organization as big as JYPE would take blood, sweat, and tears.

After some clarifications given by Manager Chen and a few more questions directed at her, Manager Kim took the reins back in his hands.

“Now, as I’m sure you all know, this is Bang Chan: the leader of Stray Kids. Although our management team is in charge of this debut, we like to include the opinions of artists whenever possible. He will make an appearance whenever he can and act as a representative of Stray Kids, sharing their ideas and opinions.” Manager Kim explained.

Bang Chan politely introduced himself, and quickly went on to express some concerns of his members. He made sure that each concern was answered thoroughly by Manager Kim before moving on to the next.

“As for our concept ideas,” Bang Chan’s soft brown eyes met yours, “will I have to report to y/n?”

You felt your ears redden.

“You could, yes,” Manager Kim straightened his back, “but if you find the weekly deadlines too much of a problem, you may just report to me or at any subsequent meeting.”

“No worries sir,” Bang Chan’s eyes lingered on yours for a fraction of a second more before grinning at Manager Kim, “I’m always punctual.”

The rest of the meeting consisted of more introductions and preliminary plans. After about an hour, everybody seemed satisfied with the contents of the meeting and were starting to pack up all their clutter on the table. You looked over at Manager Chen, silently asking what should I do next?

Manager Chen smiled. “Let's head to my floor. I can give you a quick tour, you can get settled at your desk. I have some paperwork that I’m almost done with; I’m sure you’ll have no problem finishing it for me.” She already was standing up and straightening over the creases of her jacket.

You stood up as well and followed behind Manager Chen like a lost baby duckling. You both made your way over to Manager Kim to bid farewell. You politely thanked him, said your goodbyes, and were about to leave when he stopped the two of you.

“Manager Chen, let’s go out for drinks tonight.” Manager Kim took a look at the intricate watch on his wrist. “With our whole team, of course. It’ll be a welcoming night and we can get to know the people on our team better.”

“That’s a great idea, Manager Kim,” Manager Chen nodded at his idea in approval. She turned on her iPad to quickly get a glimpse at her schedule. “What do you think y/n? Can you make it tonight? I know this is very last moment, but I think it’ll be a great opportunity for you to get to know your coworkers better.”

“I should be able to make it.” You definitely could make it. You had no plans anyways.

“Am I invited to this top secret party you’re all having?” A now very distinguishable voice came from behind you. Bang Chan stared at Manager Kim with a very mischievous expression.

“Would your manager allow it?” Manager Kim questioned, knitting his eyebrows.

“I’m on a diet, so I can’t drink alcohol or eat anything,” Bang Chan’s nose scrunched up in annoyance, “but I want to be as involved as I can. Just because I’m an idol doesn’t mean I can’t help behind the scenes as well.”

“Very well,” Manager Kim nodded with a fixed expression, “Let’s all meet at that restaurant about a block away west. I’ll go tell the others.” And with that, Manager Kim left you, Manager Chen, and Bang Chan to stand in awkward silence.

“Well,” Bang Chan cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, “I’ll get going as well to do some work now, but it was nice meeting the both of you.”

“You as well.” Manager Chen replied for the both of you and Bang Chan left soon after.

Manager Chen then led you to the elevators again and you headed up yet another few floors to reach your destination. You nervously fiddled with your hair as you silently waited behind your boss, looking up at the smooth lines of her blazer every few seconds. The elevator doors dinged, letting you know of its arrival. The two of you swiftly headed out the elevators and walked to what you presumed was Manager Chen’s office area. You kept following behind Manager Chen in silence before you stopped in front of a set of doors that looked identical to the ones at the previous meeting room. Manager Chen opened the doors for you, and you headed in.

You paused a step in, looking wide-eyed at the interior. The office was clean. A big glass desk sat right in the middle of the vast room in front of a huge set of windows. There were a couple of soft looking chairs placed right before the desk with a huge rug right underneath it. Over to your left, you spotted a water dispenser with a kettle right beside it. You stared at the room a bit longer before realizing you must have looked very stupid with that astonished look on your face.

“Is this your office, Manager Chen?” You asked.

“Yes. It seems that you like it,” She chuckled. You felt the heat rise to your ears.

“Since you’ll be working so close to me, I’m sure you’ll be happy to come here more often.”

“Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed. You blamed your bad response on the fact that you still weren’t familiar with the language, not your blatant awkwardness.

Manager Chen made her way over to her desk, picking up a small stack of papers. “These are some letters I’ve received from several designer companies in China. Since we are still in the very preliminary stages of this project, we would like to keep our options open for the stylists here.” She picks an annotated letter from the pile. “I’ve translated and created a summary of the main points of this letter. There are a few more left which I believe I can trust you with. Just do as I did with this letter and add the sample pictures along with it.”

You quickly complied, taking the stack of papers from her hands.

“I’ll show you to your new work space.” She led you out of your office and over to a cubicle that wasn’t too far away. It was considerably smaller compared to Manager Chen’s office, but you thought it had a certain coziness to it. Plus, working close to your coworkers could also boost your motivation. “Here is your desk, it’s not the most exciting thing, but you may bring photos or whatnot to decorate it. Now, I’ll let you settle in and get started on your work. You can meet me at my office around six, I can double check your work before we leave.”

You thanked her before she left and immediately got started on your work. You diligently translated the whole of the letters before picking out the main points that matched with Manager Chen’s example. After this was done, you included the photos that came with each letter and slipped them into their own cozy folder. This work was monotonous, sure, but it was something you needed on your hectic first day here.

You were so captivated by your work that you completely forgot about the time. The sun was starting to set, and you only remembered to look at the time after you tucked your last letter neatly in its folder. You briefly panicked, praying that you weren’t making your manager wait. Thankfully, it was only a quarter until six. You took the next fifteen minutes double checking your work, making sure to also check the time every once in a while. At exactly six, you left your desk and scurried over to the big doors of Manager Chen’s office.

Knocking a couple times, you waited patiently to be let in.

“Come in.”

You let yourself in, handing the papers to your manager, then sat quietly in one of the chairs before her desk, crossing your fingers together. You fiddled with your thumbs, patiently waiting for Manager Chen to speak up.

“Not bad, this is some decent work.” Manager Chen announced as soon as she finished glossing over your work. “I’ve noted some places that you can either fix or improve. I’ll scan them and hand you a copy tomorrow.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A tidal wave of relief washed over you as you let yourself relax further into your chain. Not bad, this is some decent work. You proudly repeated this moment in your brain. Although you were disappointed with the mistakes that you let slip through, to get somewhat of a compliment on your first day meant a lot to you.

“Shall we get going now?” Manager Chen asked.

You grabbed your bag and stood up. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

_______

It seemed like all you were doing on your first day was following Manager Chen around like a lost puppy. The situation right now was no exception either, as you tried to copy her confident strides over to the restaurant a block down. You watched the busy rush hour streets and sidewalks fill with people, some people going home after a long day, some people going to party just like you.

Soon, after a few more minutes of walking, the both of you arrived at the small wooden doors of the restaurants. It seemed like the both of you were a bit late as Manager Kim was already waiting in front of the entrance with the rest of the team. Bang Chan was also there, head down looking at his phone.

“Sorry we’re late, have you been waiting for long?” Manager Chen somehow sounded confident despite making everybody wait on her.

Her voice seemed to have caught everybody’s attention. You watched as Bang Chan swiftly turned his head up from his phone, his eyes making contact with yours. You immediately focused your eyes somewhere else, trying to casually play off the fact that your eyes subconsciously drifted to him.

“We’ve only been waiting for a couple minutes.” Manager Kim gave a tight smile. “Let’s go in before you all get too cold.”

Your little group of around ten people slowly entered the doors, filling the restaurant. Manager Kim called over a waitress, signaling that you had ten people in your group, and let the waitress lead you all to a long wooden table.

The restaurant was nice, nothing too fancy, but that’s how you could tell the food was good. With dim lighting and tightly packed tables, it made you feel fuzzy and warm on the inside.

However, your thoughts on the restaurant were soon broken by a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with me?” Manager Kim’s lips curled up, “After all, this is a work gathering, how good of a boss would I be if I didn’t even treat my newest team member to a drink?”

Your brain was in shambles. You seriously didn’t feel comfortable sitting with him all night. However, the logical side of your brain was saying something different. He’s just being nice as a boss. You don’t know how people in this country act anyways, stop being paranoid.

It seemed like your inner turmoil was taking longer than necessary, as you heard another familiar voice speak up.

“Manager Kim-” Bang Chan called out.

“You don’t need to sit with me here, Bang Chan.” Manager Kim chuckled as he stared directly in Bang Chan’s eyes. “I’d rather not talk about work outside the office.”

You watched as Bang Chan’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back to you in reluctance. You smiled at him before turning your attention to Manager Kim. It was just one night, right? Plus, there’s no harm in establishing a good impression with your boss.

“I’ll sit with you, Manager Kim.” You smiled, “thanks for offering.”

And so, you took your seat next to Manager Kim at the table. Bang Chan, who was to your left, looked askance at Manager Kim for a brief second before his facial expression did a complete 180. His familiar, boy-ish smile was plastered on his face like it was the most natural thing.

When the menus came, everybody at the table — including you — started to order onslaughts of food and alcohol. After brief moments of casual chatter about topics such as the weather or how good the food was here, everything that was ordered arrived at your table.

You grabbed a can of beer and started sipping on it. You’ve drank before — of course — with your old friends at university, but it’s been at least a year since you last did. Better ease myself in. You thought.

However, your preconceived plans were ruined when a small glass of clear liquor got pushed in front of you.

“Y/n, surely you aren’t going to sip on that can all night.” The ends of Manager Kim’s lips curled up.

“Wasn’t planning to, sir.” You replied while tipping the glass up and into your mouth. The bitter liquid burned your throat as it went down. You took a moment to recollect your surroundings. Seems like your tolerance was higher than you thought.

“Bang Chan, do you not drink? Why not eat something then?” Manager Chen pointed to the food on the table.

“No can do ma’am, I’m on a strict diet. My manager would kill me.” Bang Chan pointed to his glass of water.

“In that case,” Manager Chen filled another glass, “Y/n, have another drink.” She slid the glass down the table in front of you.

You gladly accepted your second drink, downing the alcohol in one go. Your eyes instinctively squeezed together as you felt your throat burn. From the tips of your ears to the ends of your toes, your whole body felt warm and alive.

You lost track of the time. As your conversations got livelier, your head got fuzzier. You stopped counting your drinks after four, especially since so many people were eager to offer the new employee a drink. Although your vision was starting to blur, you could still think straight. I can still think, you thought to yourself, still — what a powerful buzz.

Your thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you stared at the lightbulb across the room. What a pretty light. So bright. Warm.

“Y/n.”

Was the light calling your name?

“Y/n!”

Your eyes focused again and snapped away from the lightbulb. Where was the voice coming from? You slowly turned your head. Bang Chan.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He smiled back. So bright. Warm. “It’s been hours and I haven’t even offered you a drink yet.”

You tried to focus your eyes on his face as he slid the glass over to you. One more drink wouldn’t hurt your buzz, right?

You gladly accepted, slowly moving your hand over to the glass to pick the clear liquid up. It went down in one go just like all the others.

Huh? Was this water?

You struggled to focus your eyes on the person who offered you the drink. “That was yummy.”

“I bet it was,” the talking blur chuckled, “How about another one?”

You nodded, then took the glass he slid towards you. It’s funny how water flows even when in a cup. Water. You needed to pee.

“Hey,” your words dragged out, “where’s uh, where’s the washroom?”

“Follow me. I’ll show you.” Manager Kim stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You didn’t want to take it, but it seemed like nobody was noticing his offer.

Reluctantly, you took his hand and stood up, only to stumble down again. Did your knees not want to listen?

“Whoa there, better hold on.” Manager Kim said.

“No, I can walk. I-I can walk.” You let go of Manager Kim and tried to focus all your brainpower on moving your feet in a straight line. This tactic only worked for a second, however, as your knees gave in and you stumbled down.

“It’s obvious that you can’t.” Manager Kim’s lips turned up. “It’s time for you to go home. I’ll take you back.”

What? No. You didn’t want Manager Kim to take you home, not after all the awkward events of today and the general vibe from him. You tried to express your thoughts, but nothing came out of your mouth.

“Manager Kim, you’ve been drinking!” Bang Chan’s voice came from some part of the room. “It’s not safe to drive, I’ll call a taxi for you.”

“What about Y/n here? I’ll get a taxi for us both.” Manager Kim said.

“I called my manager earlier to pick me up, we can drop her off along the way. It’s not a good idea to put two drunk people in a car. I’m completely sober right now, so let me do all the work.” Bang Chan grinned, patting Manager Kim on his shoulder.

“Is that what you want, Y/n?” Manager Kim glared.

You dizzily nodded.

“Alright. In that case, I can call my own taxi later.” Manager Kim grimaced.

“Stay safe, Manager Kim.” Bang Chan smiled. He turned to you. “My manager’s been waiting outside for a while now, do you want to leave now?”

You nodded. You tried to start walking again, but your damn knees just wouldn’t listen.

“Do you want to hold on to me?” Bang Chan knitted his brows together and held out an arm.

“I,” you slurred, “can walk.” You tried to start your feet again, only to end up stumbling down.

“I know you can,” Bang Chan said as he reached his hands out to stabilize you, “but — ah — I’m really tired after today. Can you hold on to my arm so I won’t fall out of exhaustion?”

You agreed to help him. Bang Chan waved to everybody still at the table before leading the two of you out to a black SUV. He allowed you to stumble your way in the back seats first before sliding in himself. He asked you for your address, which took many tries for you to accurately type it into his phone.

You leaned your head against the window, staring at passing blurred lights as Bang Chan’s manager started driving. Just being away from the loud and bright environment seemed to have cleared your head a little, but the pounding would not stop. You cursed yourself for being so irresponsible on your first day, especially because you were still alone in this new country.

“Hey,” you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder, “want some water?” You looked over to see Bang Chan holding out a plastic bottle with the lid screwed off.

You languidly reached your hand out for the bottle and gulped down as much water as you could in one breath before handing it back to him. The street lights started getting blurrier as you tried to fight exhaustion, the muscles in your eyelids starting to get more and more uncontrollable.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re almost there. Ten more minutes.”

You couldn’t hear anything after that, however, as you felt your eyes give up on you and your body fall into a deep sleep.

“Y/n… Y/n.” A familiar voice called.

You fluttered your eyes open, your head pounding. Not knowing where you were, you surveyed your surroundings in a panic. It seemed as though you were in the back of a car… Parked outside of your apartment building?

“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Bang Chan’s voice entered your ear. It all came rushing back to you; the restaurant, the drinking, entering the SUV.

“How long have we been parked here?” Your groggy voice sounded inhuman. You had to clear your throat a couple times.

“It’s only been twenty or so minutes. I’m not allowed to leave the car, are you able to get home alone? I can ask my manager to go with you.” Bang Chan scratched the back of his neck.

“I should be fine.” You mumbled, a bit embarrassed to have fallen asleep in the car of a person you just met that day. This wasn’t even his car, it was his manager’s.

“Hey… can I put my number in your phone?” Bang Chan avoided your eyes. “Just so you can tell me when you get home.” He quickly added.

“Okay.” You awkwardly handed him your phone with your contacts already opened. He quickly typed his phone number in before handing it back to you.

“Text me when you get home. Remember to lock your door, okay?”

You thank both him and his manager before hurrying back to your apartment. Your head was still pounding unrelentlessly as you pressed the elevator button for your floor. The events of today were still unprocessed in your brain. You met a potential friend, which was a highlight. However, you also met two higher up managers and an actual idol, only to get hilariously drunk in the presence of. At least it’ll make a good story to tell my mom. You thought.

In no time, you made it in your apartment and locked the door behind you, remembering what Bang Chan told you in the car. You texted the new number in your phone.

Y/n: Hi. It’s y/n. I just entered my apartment.

Not even a minute later, your phone lit up, signaling a new text message.

Bang Chan: great!! remember to lock the doooor hahaha ( ◕ω◕✿ )

You subconsciously grin at your phone. Cute. Throwing your phone haphazardly on your bed, you begrudgingly began your night routine. After washing up and throwing on a random shirt from your closet, you fell on your bed ready to sleep. You were about to close your eyes when your phone lit up again with a ding. It was another text.

Bang Chan: Hey… Just so you know, if you ever feel unsafe around the office just tell me okay? I’ll always try to help you in whatever way I can.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #skz imagines #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan smut

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 4 years ago

Text

Sparks Pt. 4

Summary: Peter Maximoff comes back after a weekend at home to find Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters crowded and booming with noise. He decides to investigate and finds out that it's orientation day for new students. He sees you and immediately is head over heels, but in his attempts to impress you he embarrasses himself beyond belief and runs off before you can even introduce yourself.

Read Part Three Here

All the new students chatted excietley among themselves wondering what you guys were being called to the garden for. There were only a handful of you guys about 20 or so but when it comes to mutants that number was massive. You too were excited to find out what was going on, you tried your best to ignore the slight feeling of embarrassment you had, you had almost told Peter you thought he was cute. A part of you was relieved that Jubilee had spared you of a possible rejection but the other half wondered what his reaction would have been.

“What ya thinking ‘about?” You felt yourself jump up at the sudden noise, scaring Jubilee who was holding onto your arm. You whipped your head to the side to see Peter standing there leaning on Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt pushed him off and went behind you squeezing next to Jubilee muttering about how everyone took advantage of his powers and never thanked him. You shot him a smile as he passed by and he returned it. If only you could have seen the way Peter’s disappeared for a moment, before snapping right back when you turned to face him again.

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Professor X pulling up at the front of the crowd. “Thank you all for coming, I hope you have all met your roommates and hopefully were able to get acquainted before I interrupted you all. Well before Peter interrupted you all.” Everyone laughed and Peter gave a little bow and waved like he was the queen of england. “So what we will be doing is a display of abilities for our new students.” Everyone started whispering at this but Professor X put his hand up as a signal for silence. “I know it can be unnerving especially if you still can’t fully control your powers. But this will give me and the students here a chance to see what your abilities are and what your skill level is at. That way I can assign you to the appropriate classes and you can find students with similar powers or struggles to help you while you are here at this school.” He smiled at the crowd, hoping to ease their nervousness. “When you come up give us a short introduction and then a small display of your powers. Who would like to go first?” The crowd fell silent, everyone absolutely hated the idea of telling the whole school about yourself and then showing your powers. “Come on now, one of you has to get it started.”

“(y/n) wants to go!” Peter blurted out.

“Excellent,” Xavier exclaimed. “Come on up Dear.”

Your eyes widened, shaking your head rapidly back and forth. Peter reached for your hand and gave it a little squeeze pulling you closer so he could whisper in your ear. “It’s better if you go first, you get it out of the way and you don't have that feeling of dread while everyone else is going.” You gave him a skeptical look, he gave you a reassuring smile. You yielded and gave him a quick nod. The crowd parted to make way for you as you awkwardly walked to the front. “Hi my name is (y/n) (y/l/n). I am 19 years old and I enjoy painting and I really like movies.” You felt your hands shaking slightly. You always hated doing these introductions, and it wasn't helping that the crowd was so quiet.

“I love movies!” Peter shouted, easing the tension. You looked up from your feet to see his beaming face. “Do you like Karate Kid!” You laughed, as did the crowd. You were grateful that he was trying to make you feel more comfortable.

“Yeah I like Karate kid.” You responded.

“Do you like Daniel or Johnny!?” He shouted again. “Cause I personally prefer-”

“Peter!” Xavier interrupted, glaring at him. “Stop.”

“This conversation isn't over!” Everyone continued to laugh at Peter’s antics, the feeling of nervousness you had had was long gone.

“Anyway,” Professor X did his best to redirect the conversation back to what it was originally intended to be. “If you don’t mind Ms. (y/l/n), show us what your abilities are.

“Yeah okay.” You gave him a nervous smile and took a deep breath. “My powers aren’t all that strong. But I don’t mind,” You looked around for how to display your power, it was getting dark in the garden, there were lights in the garden but they were very dull and gave off very little light. You held your hands out slightly, a soft light surrounded your hands and you flicked your wrist up. The small action caused light to pour from the lamp posts, illuminating the whole garden and allowing everyone to see clearly. You could now see Peter beaming at you, his smile the brightest thing in the garden. “I can manipulate electricity.” You explained letting the lights dim slightly. “It’s a weaker version of the power so I can’t actually wield electricity and form it into what I want, but I can affect things that require it.” You made the lights dance softly and flicker on and off. “I can also do this other thing but I need a volunteer.” You admitted face burning with a slight embarrassment. You don't really like showing off.

“I’ll do it!” Kurt’s hand shot up in the air, he beat Peter to volunteering. His hand was paused slightly before he lowered it. Jubilee shot Peter a knowing look at seeing his disappointed face. He avoided her gaze. Kurt poofed form where he was to the front of the crowd right next to you. You wave the smoke away and take his hand in yours. As soon as they connect a slight shock goes through you to him and Kurt’s hair stands comply on edge from the electric shock. “This is amazing!” You giggled at his reaction and he gave you a toothy smile. Peter formed look at you and the way you looked at lane another, from here it was hard to tell if it was one of admiration or one of affection. An unknown feeling settled into Peter’s chest as he watched you two hold hands. Something he couldn't quite place.

“I can send electric charges to people that I come in contact with.” You explained. “It can range anywhere from a small shock out of nerves or a full on electrical shock, with the same power that a defibrillator can distribute.” You let go of Kurt’s hands and his hair fell back down. “If I can control it then the power wears off when I stop touching them but if it's out of nerves or shock it may leave their hair standing up.” Peter remembered how his hair had stayed on end when you had held his hand.

“Thank you (y/n). That is a very fascinating power. “Xavier gave you a gentle smile and you returned it before making your way back to Jubilee. She complimented your powers and said that you guys were meant to be friends and roommates because your powers were similar. Professor X called up another student and they gave a quick display similar to yours. It went on until everyone had gone and you were at least familiar with one another. Professor dismissed you guys yet again and informed you that dinner would be served in the hall. Tonight's meal was going to be grilled cheese and tomato soup.

“Grilled cheese?” Jubilee whined. “I’m so sick of grilled cheese they serve the same food every week.” Jubilee looked around to make sure nobody was near. “What do you say we get some real food?”

“But I thought we weren't allowed to leave campus.” You questioned.

“That’s just a suggestion, if you can find a way out who says you have to stay.” Peter said pushing himself between you two, hands slung over both of yours shoulders. Jubilee shrugged him off and he settled for just having his arms around you pulling you even closer in a side hug. “Let us show ya some fun newbie.”

You bit your lip debating it. While you were thinking Kurt and two other students made their way over to you all. You remembered the guy and the girl from the earlier demonstration from the x-men. It was Scott and Jean.

“What are you guys talking about?” Scott asked as he came closer.

“Prison break.” Peter answered. “That is if (y/n) here agrees to letting us show her a good time. The x-men way.” All eyes were on you awaiting your response. A wave of excitement rushed over you.

“Alright let’s do it!” They all cheered.

“I’ll drive!” Peter shouted.

“No!” everyone yelled back, you let out a laugh. This was going to be fun.

I hope y’all enjoyed this chapter! Peter was interrupted before he got to say if he liked Johnny or Daniel from Karate kid? Who do you think he prefers 👀 who do you prefer ? I’m a Johnny girl myself

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff fanart #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff headcanon #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff fanfiction #marvel #quicksilver #evan peters #quicksilver xmen #marvel fanfiction #jubilee xmen #xmen fanfiction #quicksilver xmen x reader #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #evan peters fanfiction

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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago

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The General (Part 7): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: the General makes you train, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into, and plans are revealed.

wc: 2K

tw: none

a/n: Thank you for being patient, sunshines! 7.5 will be out tonight as a huge thank you to all of my followers and anons who are reading. You all are just amazing.

masterlist

“Take a break!” The heavy rake is tossed to the ground,and you struggle for air, panting and coughing. Torturing you with the rake-swinging seemed to be Geto’s objective today, and it’s taking the life out of your body.

As you rest on your back - facing the sky - there’s a massive gust of air above you, and you tilt your head back to see a tiny, raven haired boy standing above you. He’s fanning you eagerly, face scrunched up in frown as he exerts all of his energy on the fan. Your first reaction is to stare at the child in fascination; the next is to laugh.

“Junpei…” you chuckle, and the child stops, letting the fan drift to his side. “You’re too sweet.” He nods once, huffing out a short breath, then starts fanning you again, making your hair blow back behind your ears.

“Giving Lady y/n a nice breeze, Junpei?” Geto asks, walking towards you two with the rake in his hand.

“Yes, Master Geto,” Junpei affirms, scrunching his face up even more as he increases the force of his fanning. Geto leans on the rake and watches the scene with a small smile on his face, and you allow Junpei to continue his task for a moment longer before standing. You grin at the child, placing a hand on his head as you murmur:

“Thank you, sweet one.” His hair bobs as he bows to you, then to Geto, and dashes off into the camp once more. You watch the child run off, his hair flying in the stale air of the mid-day.

“You have quite a few admirers, I see,” Geto begins, and you shake your head. “First, little Itadori, now Junpei… who’s next, I wonder?”

“I would like to wager a certain General would be next in line to try and win my hand,” you reply; Geto straightens up immediately and walks closer to you, a lazy grin painted on his face.

“Well, it seems that General might have quite a difficult time getting past your growing line of suitors.” You both chuckle, and Geto tilts up your chin with a forefinger. You’re prepared to kiss him - well, that is until he stops and says:

“Only six more sets of ten swings to go.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You can barely bring your spoon to your lips during lunch.

“My Lady, do you require assistance?”

You shake your head no, but your arms are screaming please help us.

It was one thing to have to swing until the sun went down. It’s an entirely different thing to not only swing seventy times but also run laps around the field like a soldier in training. You felt exhausted by the third lap, but Geto encouraged you to run more; his hands on his knees as he watched you turn into a floundering fish on land.

The other women surely watched you train with a curious eye. No one dares to ask why you allow Geto to reduce you to mush in full view of the camp, even though they know why you let him do it.

Because he turns you to mush when they’re not watching, as well.

“Master Geto?” Kaori shouts, standing from her seated position on the tarp laid out in the grass.

“No, don’t!” you cry out, but she’s already trudging down the field, leaving you behind as she calls Geto’s name over and over again. You curse softly, sitting down your soup with agonizing slowness and try to stand from where you’re sitting, but your legs will not move an inch.

“She can barely move; how do you expect her to eat lunch and remain healthy if you render her arms useless? Then you walk off, leaving her to her own devices! You don’t pay me enough to feed her like you do during dinner.” Kaori is stomping back up to you, followed closely by Geto, who is shrugging on his haori and appears to be rather alarmed. “You should take better care of your captives, Master Geto. Look at her!”

You try your best to look as painless as possible, but the facade is broken when Geto extends a hand out and you grimace as you try to reach your own hand out. His face falls instantly and without speaking, he hoists you up into his arms. “Kaori, bring her soup, please. I’ll feed her myself.” Your head rests against his broad chest limply, and the way that his heart beats wildly against your ears oddly soothes you. You’re in pain, yes, but you’re not completely immune to the way he makes your heart stutter and trip over itself when he’s near you. And you’ve never been as near to him as you are now.

“When you are in pain, you need to say something,” Geto chastises as he lays you in the bed, folding a fur up before resting you against it and sitting beside you. “Kaori made it sound like you were dying.”

“I wasn’t dying,” you retort. “I tried to prevent her from saying anything.”

“So, you thought I wouldn’t find out later?” When the head maid deposits the soup bowl into Geto’s hands, he looks up at you and raises a brow.

“No, I--”

“Open.” A spoonful of clear onion soup is presented to you, and you obey, knowing your argument is completely lost already. “It’s my duty to make sure you’re taken care of while you’re here,” he continues, offering another spoonful. “You should let me know when you’re struggling, or when you need something.”

Your mouth is full of soup, so you can’t reply like you want to. But what would you even say? Would you tell him that you’ve been struggling between your plan - which had been altered slightly over the past few days - or would you tell him you needed him in more ways than one?

“Master Geto,” a voice calls out at the opening of the tent. You don’t recognize the voice at all, but when the person walks through the flaps, you recognize his face. His wide, dark blue eyes are all-too familiar, and the young man’s mouth presses together in a thin line at the sight of you being spoon-fed by Geto. This is the same man who captured you when you tried to run away the first time.

“Yuta, I’m glad you’re here. What do you have for me?” Yuta… The name rings a bell along with the memory of Nanami mentioning him when talking about the new emissary. Yuta produces a thin roll of brown paper and hands it to Geto.

“They’re not going to send another emissary.” The implications of this knowledge brings the weight of the world down on your shoulders, and you look to Geto’s face, which is blank.

“Wait, but that means--” you’re quickly interrupted by Yuta’s sharp eyes cutting to you, and Geto chuckles.

“That means I’d better get you all settled in the next village as soon as possible.”

_______________________________________________________________________

“What if the elders don’t agree to his plan?” you wonder aloud, and Kaori runs water down your arms before answering softly.

“Then he will wipe the village out, my Lady.”

“But how? And single handedly?”

“I won’t claim to know how he does it. I have never been privy to his methods, nor would I want to be.”

You think about Kaori’s words long after the bath was over, alone in the bedroom and wrapped in furs. The thought of Geto slaughtering an entire village is chilling, but his truly ruthless side was not something you had been exposed to. You shake thoughts of death out of your mind and stand from the bed, dragging the fur pelt behind you as you stride over to Geto’s desk to eye his newest plans.

The page full of black and red ink marks is unfamiliar to you, and you can’t make heads or tails of the drawings despite looking at it from different angles. The mystery of the paper engrosses you fully - so much so that you don’t hear someone approaching you from behind.

“They’re formations.” Yuta speaks behind you, and you jolt, knocking your hip against the table.

“I b-beg your pardon?” you stutter, clutching the pelt around you tightly.

“Formations... for battle.” Yuta reaches over to point at a circle and then to the arrows moving away from it. “This is the center of the formation - where Master Gojo will be - and this,” he points to the triangle at the head of the formation. “Is where Master Geto will be.”

“Why is Gojo well-protected and not Geto?” The inquiry is met with laughter as Yuta slides the paper away from you.

“He’s not being protected. He’s protecting everyone else.”

“And when is this occurring?” Yuta raises a brow, looking over at you with a tender gaze.

“Haibara and Gojo are negotiating with the closest village as we speak, but we could encounter the Imperial Warriors at any time. This could happen tomorrow, if I’m being honest.”

“Tomorrow?” Your shock doesn’t affect the young man at all, and he steps away from you, eyeing you carefully.

“I won’t say anything further. Geto is protecting you from this information for some reason, and has obviously commanded Kaori to say nothing as well.” With this, he exits, and you’re left looking at the squares, circles, and triangles while wondering where you fit into all of this mess.

_______________________________________________________________________

Your encounter with Yuta gave you more questions than answers, and when the bed dips behind you, you roll over to meet Geto face to face, intent on getting answers.

“I thought you were asleep.” You don’t respond to the statement, instead sitting up fully and pushing your hair out of your eyes.

“You should have told me that you could go to war at any time.” Geto frowns, sliding in next to you and tilting his head to the side.

“I’m waiting on word from Haiba--”

“And that. What happened to my village after you took me?”

“Little one, I haven’t touched your village. You would know if I made any decisions about the fate of your peers.”

“Kaori doesn’t know what happened to her family, and she’s just a maid! Why would you feel obligated to tell me - a captive - about my family?”

“You’re more than just a captive to me, y/n. You know that,” he whispers, blinking slowly.

“Right, I’m a pawn,” you grunt. “I asked you to tell me your game, and now I’m asking you again. What do you plan on doing with me while you’re away at war? I know you’re not stupid enough to leave me here while you’re away and can’t keep an eye on--”

Geto puts up a hand, trying to stop you from speaking. “You’re right, I hav--”

“Did you know I tried to run away?” The General looks at you, face blank. “But I came back and…” You fumble for the words, but they don’t feel right in your mouth. So, you rephrase. “I came back because…” You pause. You remember the reason you justified coming back, but it doesn’t make sense now. You can’t even say you followed your own plan. It had fallen by the wayside the moment Geto’s lips met yours; that you knew for a fact.

“Nanami watched you; I knew you left the tent the moment you began walking across the camp,” he admits, and your lips part in surprise. “But you turned around. I came to confront you after dinner, and that’s why I was at the tent when you started to yell. My anger overshadowed my disappointment, but then even that was overshadowed by my desire to have you.”

“Then why--”

“I’m not leaving you here; you’re absolutely right about that. I wanted to wait to tell you when the time was right, but… I suppose now is the time. Your carriage will leave as soon as Gojo and Haibara send word back to me about the village. I’m sending you home.”

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover @jotazinha @just4readingfics @mxhi @sammytamaki @brownskinnedgirll @keelyshayee @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9

#geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #getou x reader #jjk junpei #jjk yuta #jjk haibara #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen

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donghyuckcuyhgnod · 5 years ago

Note

Would u be willing to have a follow up or pt 2 to guilt flavored cupcakes? If not, could i request a jisung angst that ends with fluff? Hehe 💚💚💚

i tried to fit both of your requests into one :) the beginning is realllyyyy angsty, but i promise it gets better! it’s a bit long, i got a little carried away haha,, but i hope you enjoy <3

(part one is located here.)

“this is all your fault!” jisung yelled, slamming the door he had just walked through, his eyes shining with tears and his voice shaky. out of surprise and shock, all twenty-two of his fellow members had their eyes blown wide. “if you assholes just kept your mouths shut, this wouldn’t be happening right now!”

“jisung, what are you talking about?” taeyong gently asked. even the choreographer had stopped in his tracks upon the youngest’s unexpected entrance.

“them!” he pointed to the dreamies, sitting on the floor in front of the mirror. confused, all of the boys rose their eyebrows. “the one thing that makes me happy—the one person that truly makes me happy isn’t mine anymore because of you,” he spit out harshly, pointing to the five boys who he had initially put the blame on. his phone was clutched tightly in his hands, still lit up and on the page of his call log; your name being at the top of the list.

“jisung, what the hell are you talking about?” renjun asked, confusion laced in his voice. it wasn’t long before jisung’s bottom lip began quivering, tears streaming freely down his face as he let out an characteristically loud sob. “y/n broke up with me,” he choked out, shutting his eyes so tight as if he couldn’t bare to say those words. he dropped his phone on the ground, pulling at his hair in distress.

jaemin rolled his eyes, “of course she did. we already warned you, jisung. she was using you for your idol status. think of this as a good thing.” the dreamies shook their heads in agreement.

johnny spoke up, “guys, i don’t think now is a good time-”

“fuck you.”

silence. complete, utter, silence. jaemin—as well as the rest of nct—was speechless. never, in all their years of knowing jisung, had his members heard him cuss in such a bitter, hateful, and sincere way. shocked wasn’t even the word.

“what did you just say to me?” jaemin’s eyes were wide, his jaw open in surprise. did he just say what i think he said?

“you heard me loud and clear, jaemin. fuck you. fuck all five of you. you never gave her a fucking chance! all of you are always so mean to her, and for what? what did she ever do to you? you never even tried to like her. you would push her aside, say mean things straight to her face. you treated her like a goddamned criminal!” his tears were nonstop, cheeks a bright red and eyelids swollen from the constant tears. he sniffled, biting his lip in an attempt to control his sobs.

“what did she say during the call?” doyoung asked cautiously, laying a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder. jisung sniffled again, gaining enough composure to speak.

“sh-she called because her dress was ruined. the dress for the awards, y’know. i paid for it to be altered to her size, and she came by the dorm yesterday when i wasn’t there to pick it up. and she went to take it out of the bag today, and there was paint all over it! and it was ripped in a bunch of places, and when i asked her how she ruined it, she told me that it wasn’t her. but i know exactly who it was,” jisung deadpanned, his eyes growing dark as he looked at the five guilty boys sitting on the floor. their lack of response made the answer very clear to everyone in the room.

kun sighed in disappointment, “what the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“it was her grandma’s dress.” jisung looked down at his feet, his eyes shining with tears again; and not because of the breakup. but rather, his mind went to the hurt in your voice when crying to him over the phone. “jisung, this dress is the only thing i had left of her. and now it’s completely ruined.”

“what?” chenle said.

“it was her grandma’s dress. the woman who raised her, who died last year. it was her dress and it was the only thing y/n had left of her. and you fucking ruined it, and tore it to shreds! how fucked up are you guys!? she broke up with me because she can’t do it anymore. she can’t handle the way you treat her. she dealt with it for two years now, and this was the final straw. are you fucking happy now?”

the immediate guilt suddenly had everyone’s heart skipping a beat—and not in a good way. a series of flashbacks had appeared in their minds; all of the times when you were at the dorm, making jisung laugh until he couldn’t breathe. the countless times you brought him soup and cuddles when he wasn’t feeling good, or the small pep-talks you would give him before a performance that always seemed to calm him. the way you always cooked and cleaned around the dorm because you knew how hard jisung and his members worked. all the times he had gushed—and gushed some more—about how amazing you were and how much he loved you with the most joyful smile he had ever shown.

“jisung, we-”

“save it.”

shit. we really fucked up.

—

a whole four-and-a-half weeks had passed when jeno called you. you weren’t expecting to see his name pop up on your phone, thus the reason you gasped out loud. you assumed he was calling to tell you how bad of a person you are for breaking up with jisung—so you didn’t answer. it’s not like you wanted to break up with him; the dreamies gave you no other choice. when haechan called not minutes later, however, you started to grow confused. surely they would give up, right? but then renjun called. and then, jaemin. and then, chenle. eventually, your curiosity got the best of you.

“hello?” you answered nervously, trying your absolute best to stabilize your voice. due to all the crying and frustration, however, your voice came out more hoarse and broken than intended. the other line was silent.

“. . . chenle?”

“meet me at the coffee shop next to the dorms in twenty minutes.”

“what? why?” you began, but the line had already gone dead. confused, you dragged yourself out of your bed and made yourself look presentable. well, as presentable as you could, considering the fact that you’d been hibernating in your room out of sadness for the past four weeks.

you arrived to the cafe with a heavy heart. you were sure your heart was going to burst out of your chest at the sight of the five boys who seemingly hated you, sitting around a table with one empty chair. you hesitantly walked in, the bell on the door gaining their attention. you smiled lightly at them out of habit. you sat down in silence, hugging your sweater a little tighter on instinct, feeling small under their gazes. they were surely going to scold you, right? i mean, you did just break their best friend’s heart. but yours was broken, too.

the boys took in your appearance, and with one glance, they knew you were just as heartbroken as jisung. their younger friend had barely spoken since that day; he would perform and practice like always, but the minute the cameras were off, he was cold and distant. he locked himself in his room every night, forcing jaemin to sleep on the couch. he had barely eaten, his energy and passion dropping drastically due to a lack of motivation. even the fans had started suspecting the changes. he wasn’t acting himself.

haechan was the first to break the silence. “we’re sorry, y/n. . .” he spoke quietly, avoiding your eyes in shame and guilt. your eyes widened in surprise, a shocked huh? coming from your mouth. is this a joke? as if renjun read your mind, he answered your question.

“we’re serious. we never gave you a chance. we were so mean to you and we’re sorry for everything. truly sorry,” renjun said, a glint of sincerity in his eyes. the apology, in all honesty, pricked at a certain part of your heart. like a bandaid being ripped from a wound, and all it took was a gentle smile from jaemin before your eyes were watering. “especially about your grandma’s dress,” renjun added on in a guilty mutter, training his eyes downward. you flinched at his words, remembering the mess they made of your precious grandmother’s dress.

you sniffled, your tears flowing freely now as you cleared your throat. “you guys were just worried about jisung, it’s understandable-“ you began, before chenle cut you off.

“why are you so nice to us, y/n? we treated you like shit from day one for absolutely no reason, and you’re still being nice to us and making excuses for our behavior. we know we’re in the wrong, y/n. you don’t need to say anything.”

you gaped at him, before slowly nodding your head as you cried. you were surprised to feel a comforting hand on your shoulder, looking up and seeing a kind-smiled haechan through your tears. “seriously, why? you’re too kind, y/n.” you could only look at him, muttering a small, “because jisung loves you guys so much.”

your own words made you cry harder, lightly laughing at yourself out of nerves. “i’m sorry for crying like this,” you said, swiping at your red and puffy cheeks, trying to keep up with the vigorous tears.

jaemin lightly chuckled, “it’s no big deal. it’s no different than jisung, nowadays.” at this, your heart nearly ripped in half, and you felt a pain in your chest that you could only describe as excruciating. you looked up at him wide-eyed, stuttering over yourself, struggling to find the words.

“he’s a mess, y/n,” jeno spoke truthfully, his own eyes watering a bit at the thought of jisung cooped up in his room, crying himself to sleep every night. “don’t blame it on yourself. it’s not your fault. it’s ours,” he said.

your cries hadn’t stopped, the people around giving you weird looks and questioning eyes. “please talk to him, y/n,” chenle pleaded, eyeing you carefully. you quickly regained your composure, hiccups now replacing your cries. you thought for a moment, “what if he’s too upset with me? what if he wants nothing to do with me anymore?”

“trust us, y/n. he wants everything to do with you. he needs you.”

—

your hand shook as you lifted it up to the doorknob of the familiar practice room. you let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes in an attempt to gain back your composure. jisung and his members were leaving for tour in a few days, and you refused to let him leave without talking to him. you were planning to wait until nighttime, but as you sat in your room with your mind swirling, you couldn’t wait any longer.

you had finally gained the courage to open the door, but before you could, someone else beat you to it. mark looked at you with surprise, an unreadable expression on his face. you quietly greeted him, nervously picking at your nails as you shuffled on your feet.

“y/n? what are you doing here?” he spoke, his eyes softening at the clear distress on your face. you lightly peaked inside the practice room, and mark instantly got the hint. he quickly moved aside to make room for you, an encouraging smile on his face.

the world seemed to stop, then. the moment you walked into the room, jisung had caught your eyes in the mirror. his hair was disheveled, his eyes puffy, red, and tired. the bags under his eyes sadly matched yours, his face looking slimmer than normal and his figure hunched over in a sulk. his skin was red and uneven, a few stress pimples coating his forehead and his chin.

“y/n?” he spoke suddenly, his voice broken, and your eyes instantly teared up at the sound of his voice cracking. nearly everyone was staring at you wide-eyed, and you gulped nervously.

“i know this probably isn’t the best time, but i-i just. . . “ you trailed, losing your voice as you looked at the ground. you looked up again, jisung now facing you with a sad look in his eyes. you sighed, “can we talk?”

—

the door was closed and the boys couldn’t hear anything, but that didn’t stop them from looking through the small glass window. even their choreographer was trying to get a better view, all of them hoping and praying that you were here to get their maknae back. they could only see your face, jisung’s back to the door. you held his hands tightly in yours, your lips moving and tears flying freely down your face.

they couldn’t see jisung, but the way his shoulders shook vigorously was a clear indication that he, too, was sobbing. your regretful words and pleas of i love you more than anything, i’m such an idiot for breaking up with you sent daggers through jisung’s heart. your eyes screamed the words forgive me, please. and how was he to say no to you?

he nodded his head with intent, “i could never be mad at you for this, y/n. i’m such a coward for not sticking up for you-“

“don’t say that, park jisung. you did stick up for me. it’s all in the past now, okay? they. . . they apologized to me. they’re the reason i’m here right now,” you confessed, jisung’s eyes widening at your words.

“none of it matters now, i promise. please, can we forget this ever happened? i can’t be without you, baby,” you cried, the affectionate name sounding so familiar yet so foreign to jisung. it tugged at his heart strings, all strumming for you in every way possible. without hesitation, he nodded his head, a relieved smile taking over his features.

you practically wailed in relief, taking his face in your hands and planting your lips on his in a passionate kiss; all of the emotions that the two of you had felt over the past weeks were being poured out, your pain matching each other’s in the most intimate and vulnerable way possible. the taste of your simultaneous tears didn’t matter in that moment; all that mattered was that you were his again, and he was yours.

“they’re kissing! i repeat, they’re kissing!” taeyong exclaimed, a series of happy and excited shouts filling the room as the members cheered for the both of you. jisung pulled away, only to look back and see a bunch of prying eyes through the window, all smiling and high-fiving each other at the scene before them. and the best part? the dreamies were the happiest of them all. you chuckled at them, causing jisung to look back at you in amazement.

“i love you so much, y/n. please never leave me again,” he whispered, burying his face in your neck and pulling you as close as he possibly could. your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, closing your eyes in bliss and letting out a sigh of relief. “never again,” you assured both him, and yourself. you basked in his embrace. finally. you were home. he held you as if you were to disappear the second he let go, and in that moment, jisung concluded that losing you was his biggest fear.

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ally22042000 · 4 years ago

Text

Linked by fate

Introduction

Werewolf AU

Fluff, Angst

OT7 x Reader

Pack Alpha: Namjoon

Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook

Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung

Omega: Y/N

Wordcount: 2K

A/N: Hobi’s got kind of long 😊. I hope you like this. I had this idea in my head for a while and would love to write more pieces about them and their journey. Pls tell me what you think about it and you can always leave requests if there are certain things you’d like to read. -Ally

It has always been the eight of you. Since your childhood you were inseparable. A bond was created whose strength and depth was unknown to most. A phase, everybody thought, that was going to fade away the older you would get. The longing for independence was supposed to fill your minds and draw you apart from each other. A prediction that since this day has not occurred.

Namjoon, the born alpha, who one day will take over his mother’s pack and be the leader everyone imagined him to be. He has shown his ability to take care of others, since a young age. Like that time in Taehyung’s first year of elementary school. He never told the others about the bullies at school who made is life a living hell simply because he had a different approach to most tasks. They declared him as weird and treated him like an outsider.

The leader picked up on his change in behaviour quickly, noticing that the six-year-old started speaking less and only answering questions that were specifically direct at him. A one-eighty to his usual happy and chattery personality. He picked the younger boy up from school the next day and walked in on a scene that made his blood run cold. Three boys were standing above Tae, the little wolf covering on the floor, his painting crushed under the tallest foot.

A growl left the alpha and before Namjoon knew what had happened, he had shifted for the first time. Four paws running across the school grounds scaring of the three kids, that knew they didn’t stand a chance against the son of the cities pack alpha. It was the first time Namjoon had to stand up for one of his members and seeing Taehyung on the floor in front of him, tears glistening on his round cheeks and admiration shining in his eyes as he petted the brown wolf in front of him, he knew, he would do anything to keep his pack safe.

Seokjin, as the medic of the group, was an important asset. Always patched up the maknae line when they were rough housing as you were all growing into your hierarchical roles and pheromones were going wild. Or that one time an older she-wolf had pushed you to the ground during Junior High, saying you were too young to play with them. Quickly you had gotten up and pulled on her hair, which resulted in her running her nails over your face and leaving scratches on your cheek and chin. Her teacher broke up the fight and you were both send home.

After the scolding of your parents, Jin was called over and addressed your wounds. Nothing major had to be done and at the and you and the beta fell asleep watching a movie in your living room. Your faced buried in his neck, in haling the familiar mixture between wood and rice, which had always been able to calm you down.

Yoongi, who always napped in the corner during kindergarten and growled at anyone who annoyed him. But he was always more bark than bit. Unless the situation called for it of course. In elementary he shifted his nap place beneath the tree on the playgrounds. Enjoying the shade as a brise tousled his dark brown fur. Jungkook loved to sneak up on the elder and pull his ears, then quickly escape his nip and giggling while Yoongi chased him around the tree. Seokjin calling from the seesaw that he would not patch up any injuries. A smile bright on his face.

Hoseok, the glue of your group, as the son of your pack’s master of fight he was born with an amount of agility and skill like none of you. Nobody believed that the little sunshine boy could arise to the role assign but whenever the necessity arouse Hobi proved to everyone what a skilled fighter and wolf he was and that he was able to protect his pack.

You remember it clearly, that day Jimin and you went for a run. It had only been a few weeks since the both of you turned for the first time, so walking on for legs was still a hurdle to overcome. You weren’t allowed to leave the grounds of your pack; it was too dangerous considering that you still couldn’t protect yourself in this form. But you didn’t care, choosing to enjoy the freedom you had and testing your limits in this new form.

Unaware of the presence watching you, analysing your movements and swiftly deciding, that you both were an easy match. One second you were pulling on Jimin’s tail, messing with the older and the next a vicious growl came from behind you. Jimin immediately stood between you and the rouge, trying to shield his omega from harms way. One look at the other wolf showed that he was older, probably in his thirties or forties, and as strong as Jimin was or a seventeen-year-old, you both were aware of the fact, that he didn’t stand a chance against the intruder. You needed help. The second your howled, was the second the rouge decided to attack. He new he didn’t have much time and had to get rid of you fast. He crashed into Jimin’s body, their forms rolling around on the ground. The white fur of your pack member a stark contrast to your surroundings and the brown fur of the attacking wolf.

A yelp from Jimin is what caused you to spring into action. Blood was dripping down his left shoulder. You tried to let out a terrifying growl but even to your ears it sounded pathetic. It was enough to get the wanted attention though. The rough turned his attentiveness to you, baring his teeth which were covered in Jimin’s blood. You stood your ground, willing to do whatever it took to protect your pack member. His slow steps rapidly changed into a sprint and you reciprocated the action. But before you could meet, Hoseok jumped out of the bushes surrounding you, catching the wolf mid-air and forcing him to the ground.

It wasn’t much of a fight. Hoseok was clearly stronger and more skilled than the intruder. Quickly he brought the enemy on his back and snaped his neck with his teeth. Letting go of the body, he turned around and scanned the situation. It was clear that Jimin need immediate attention, so he ran over to the younger wolf. You stood frozen in place, staring at the dead animal, whose eyes were open and facing you. You hadn’t noticed when the others arrived and Seokjin tending to Jimin’s wound. Jumping slightly when Hobi pressed his head into your neck, startling you.

You stared into his eyes. Apart of both of you feared that you would be scared of him after having seen him murder someone. Taking a life so easily. But the look in his eyes showed nothing but love and protectiveness. A silent massage, that he always would protect you and the pack, whatever it may cost.

Jimin, beauty and elegance personified in one little being. Form a young age he was always well spoken and able to swoon anybody with his silver tongue and remarkable looks. Especially in Senior high, those looks brough a lot of insecurities with them and put a lot of pressure on Jimin mentally. He would skip out on meals and train whenever he could. Being a part of the dance team with Hoseok, his body was always on display for others to judge. A fact which brought a lot of fear and dark thoughts.

It was Yoongi who realised it first. The both of them were always bickered like an old married couple but cared for each other deeply. When he realised what Jimin was doing he immediately went to Jin and Namjoon. The four of them had a long talk which involved a lot of shouting and accusations. Until Jimin broke down crying. The walls he had built came trembling down and he admitted to the negative thoughts clouding his mind. That night you set up a nest for you and the alpha. Cuddling him all night long, while whispering uplifting words of affection into his hair.

Taehyung, the artist with a smile that could dazzle the sun. His talent for remembering paths and nature facts has helped your group out of a lot of scary situations and gets acknowledge often in your pack. Particularly, when the alphas and betas went out for a hunt, Taeyhung’s attended was often requested alongside Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s to insure the safe and swift return of everyone.

Furthermore, he loved to help out in the nearby day care. Playing with the kids and reading them stories took up a big part of his free time, especially during holidays. He often forced Jimin to go with him, so he could teach them a new choreography. It always ended with Jimin going home more exhausted than he is after dance practise.

Jungkook, brute strength embodied in a boy with a heart of gold. Always ready to stir up trouble, especially with Tae or Jin, and loves to be babied my everyone. He never fails to be responsible and attentive for the ones he loves though. Like that time, you caught a cold during winter break and only the maknae line was home. The hyungs had to attend a pack meeting with Namjoon’s mother out of town.

Jungkook had cooked you soup everyday and made sure you took your medicine at the right moments. He called Jin multiple times during those four days to make sure he did everything right. Late at night he would crawl into bed with you and provide you with his body heat. His alpha on high alert to make sure his omega was comfortable and protected while she rested.

Y/N, the only omega of the group, but still a force to be reckoned with. As the only girl in the group, you know how to keep the young wolfs in check. Never letting them get out of line. Whacking them over the back of their heads whenever the situations called for it, which was often. Although you are able to stand up for yourself, your omega tendencies shine through whenever you are with the boys. Loving to be pampered and cared for by them. Physical affection playing a huge part in your relationship. A language all of you learn to read and communicate with.

Getting off form a stressful day at school, you would ride the bus past your stop and go over to one of their houses. Laying in Namjoons bed while he reads a book about pack laws and traditions or you would back hug Seokjin while he prepared something to eat for everyone. Calling the others over, so the eight of you could watch a movie or play a board game. You firmly planted on Hoseok’s lap, enjoying the way he played with your hair and getting fed popcorn by Taehyung.

In public you were the strong and independent omega your parents raised you to be, but with them you were able to relax and let them take control. Letting them indulge in their providing nature. Something you were very grateful for. Every day.

This were the eight little troublemakers whose love for each other is unheard of. A weird mixture of personalities. Where one goes the other seven follow. 32 pairs of paws, seven tails and one heartbeat.

#bts #bts x reader #OT7 BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #werwolf #au #linked by fate

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akitokihojo · 4 years ago

Text

Monster - Chapter 7

chapter index

It was unsurprising that Inuyasha had dozed off after Kagome and had awoken before her. It seemed she’d barely moved in the night aside from freeing her arms from the confinements of the quilts she rested beneath and turning to lay on her side facing the edge of the mattress. Her dark hair splayed behind her, but little, rogue strands clung to her sweat-soaked cheeks, forehead, and neck, her skin glimmering with the layer of dew that signified her breaking fever. A little color had returned to her face, an unfriendly flush painting her cheekbones, and Inuyasha could only figure how uncomfortable she would be if she were conscious.

Again, that twinge of sympathy twisted at his abdomen. He felt the pull to help, to make her just a bit more comfortable, and did the first thing that came to mind by heading to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth from the shelf, and soaking it in some water. He rung it of extra moisture, folding it up and walking back over to the sleeping girl.

While she was unaware, this sort of act was fine. If she were awake, it’d be an entirely different story, but since she was asleep, Inuyasha allowed himself the leeway to sit beside her and gently pat the wet rag over her cheeks, adjusting those soddened strands of hair away from her body. He carefully pushed her bangs from her head, dabbing the sweat clean, and softly trailed over her temple, the sides of her face, her jaw, and over her neck.

It was too quick how he’d lost the ability to pay attention, how he’d carelessly gotten swept away in his task, and after moments of cooling her skin, pressing the rag against her so mildly, he noticed her brown eyes had already blinked open, gazing at him drowsily.

How long? How long ago had she woken up without him realizing? He instantly felt awkward and tense, his motions halting altogether as an uncontrollable heat rushed to his cheeks. He wanted to remove himself from the situation immediately, never one to let others see him visibly uncomfortable, so as a swift attempt at recovery, Inuyasha dropped the wet washcloth on Kagome’s face as he picked himself up and crossed the room to the window, ignoring her tiny and shocked yelp.

“What was that for?” She whined.

“You’re awake. You can do it yourself now.” He replied abrasively.

“What were you even doing?” Kagome asked, steadily pushing herself up to a sitting position, a hand braced behind her for stability.

“Nothing.”

“But -“

The hanyou hushed her, notching his chin toward the door. “Kaede’s coming.”

And, just seconds later, a knock greeted them. Inuyasha crossed the room to unlock the bolt, opening it up so his friend could enter.

“Ah, you’re awake.” She smiled brightly, shoving a folded up, black garment into Inuyasha’s waist and completely neglecting to acknowledge him as she welcomed herself in and crossed the floor to Kagome.

“Wow,” Inuyasha drawled, deadpanning. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hi, Inuyasha.” Kaede absently waved. “Get dressed, I’m tired of seeing your tits.”

“Why? Because they’re bigger than yours?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” She huffed, still not looking at him as she checked Kagome’s temperature. “I have to tighten my bodice to no ends just to get an ounce of cleavage. Yours just exists, and it’s not fair.”

“Stop sexualizing me, you creep.” Inuyasha joked, unfolding the shirt and throwing it over his head. “It’s not my fault I’m well-endowed.”

“How are you feeling? Nauseous?” Kaede asked Kagome, ignoring Inuyasha’s sarcasm.

The conjurer shook her head, grateful that the medicine Kaede had given her seemed to have worked.

“You’re still a bit warm, but your fever’s breaking so that’s a good sign. I’ll go get some rice for you to eat and then give you one more dose.”

“Won’t it put me to sleep?” Kagome asked.

“Yes, but you need the rest, sweetheart.”

“It’s not clear to leave yet, anyway, so you may as well sleep. You’ll have nothing better to do.” Inuyasha added, tucking the ends of his shirt into his pants before buttoning them up. He worked on rolling the sleeves up his forearms next, making things a little more comfortable.

Kagome begrudgingly agreed, despite her desperate desire to stretch and walk around and be normal again. Kaede was quick to return with a healthy serving of rice and a large glass of water, making light conversation as she watched to make sure Kagome ate. A part of her wanted to ask if she had any children. She was very motherly and kind, and while Kaede was maybe just a year or two older than she was with the spunky sense of humor to match, she found a small resemblance between she and her own mother.

After giving her the dreadful fever medicine, Kaede left with both the rice bowl and the soup bowl from the night before, leaving Inuyasha and Kagome alone in the room once more.

Kagome laid herself down, knowing good and well how quickly the dose she’d just consumed was going to kick in, and within moments, her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted back to sleep.

Inuyasha watched her for a small while, alternating his attention from the unconscious girl to the town outside their window. He didn’t know what had possessed him to stay with her. Usually, he was one to sit in Kaede’s tavern area, or visit the shops, or have Totosai sharpen Tessaiga. Totosai worked with Kaede, helped her manage the floor and kitchen, but first and foremost, he was a bladesmith, and Inuyasha was happy to take full advantage of that. Yet, here he was. It was like he personally wanted to watch her improve. It was like Inuyasha wanted to make sure nothing stood in the way of her rest, and if she woke up or needed anything in the meantime, he was within earshot. What could she possibly need or want if she was asleep, though? What could he possibly do to help her while she wasn’t even conscious?

What was it about her that progressively demanded his attention?

After a couple of hours, Inuyasha forced himself to leave the room. Whatever he was feeling, it was freaking him out worse than the fear he felt just the night before. So, he went downstairs and paid off the tab so he wouldn’t have to worry about it later, giving Kaede a bit extra for tending to Kagome, which she nearly rejected but he walked away before she could force him to take it back. He ate something, he went outside to scope the area, making sure no familiar and unwelcome scents lingered around the grounds, went back to the inn and checked on Kagome, left when he saw she was still asleep, walked around some more, handed Tessaiga over to Totosai, checked on Kagome again, and then left the town entirely to rest in a tree in the forest so he wouldn’t be tempted to give up and hang out in the room.

“Oh, hey. She’s awake now and looks ten times better. You’re welcome. I know, I know, I’m the best.” Kaede grinned smugly, crinkling her nose adorably once Inuyasha walked back in. The sun was now setting, and he’d literally forced himself to stay out for hours to shake whatever was pulling him in like a magnet.

“You’ve checked on her?” He questioned, arching a brow.

“Of course, I did. Several times.” She shrugged. “Poor girl wanted nothing more than to bathe, so I set her up with a fresh gown and helped her out. She’s much more lively now, the cutie. How’d you even meet her? Is she a longtime friend of yours or something?”

Inuyasha deliberated his answer for a moment before taking a large step back and out of Kaede’s reach, grateful the counter she stood behind acted as a barrier to slow her down.

She read his expression immediately, and her brows pinched together in disapproval. “Inuyasha, what did you do?”

“First of all, I want to start off with the fact that I saved her life.” He began, defensively. “Just remember that, okay?”

“What did you do?” She repeated with condemnation.

“Nothing wrong, per se!”

“Don’t make me ask her myself.”

“No, don’t! She’ll just exaggerate!”

“Inuyasha!”

“I thought there was a bounty on her head, okay? Are you happy?” The hanyou barked.

“You did not!” Kaede had been friends with Inuyasha long enough to know how roughly he treated others, especially those he could get paid for. She’d even witnessed it a couple of times while Inuyasha brought them to the bar, eating and drinking in front of them, taunting them, making them wait out their sentencing for a bit longer. Personally, she thought it was sort of amusing since the majority of his victims had it coming. Not in this case, though.

“Well, you saw how messed up she looked! It was worse a couple days ago, so could you even blame me!?”

“Yes!”

“And, she had a horrible attitude for someone who’d just had their ass saved.” He growled, remembering her sassy remarks that got her into trouble with him. “The girl’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m gonna kick your sorry ass!” Kaede threatened, preparing to hop over the counter, not even bothering to head to the side and exit the counter door.

“I let her go!” Inuyasha argued, holding up his hands before him to protect himself.

“Let her…” Kaede stopped with one foot pressed on the countertop, uncaring that her skirt was hiked with gravity and that she was exposed. She let his words process for a moment, steadily bringing her foot back to the ground. He let her go. He legitimately had her in captivity. No longer was she interested in getting the full story from this scummy ass half demon. She wanted to know exactly what he did, and she was going to get it from the honest source.

Calmly, she turned and opened the counter door, shutting it behind her with pursed lips, and she watched the realization dawn on Inuyasha’s face. Before he could stop her, though, she booked it, running down the hall and up the stairs, shoving the hanyou’s hands off of her whenever he tried to grab and stop her.

She threw the door open, spotting Kagome across the bedroom with large eyes and a startled frown. She was tense where she stood, her black hair tied back in a messy bun, a rosiness flooding in her cheeks as she relaxed at seeing it was only them.

“Kagome - don’t touch me, Inuyasha - Kagome, did this mother fucker -“

“Don’t tell her anything! She’s gonna kill me!”

“Shut up! Did this mother fucker abduct you? Did he threaten to -“

“Kagome, no!”

“- Sell you?”

There was a thick moment of silence. Kagome stared at the two in the entry, stunned, perplexed, wondering what she was now caught in the middle of. She watched Inuyasha’s heated expression crumble as he started laughing, hiding his amusement behind his hand as he folded over and braced himself on his thighs. Kaede, though, held onto her wrathful look, her brown eyes squinted with how deep set her brows sat.

“Yes.” She finally answered, nodding. “Yes, he did.”

“I saved her life first! I saved her life!” Inuyasha jumped up, backing away from Kaede as she raised her fist and threatened to hit him.

“Is that true, Kagome?” She asked.

“Mhm. Sort of.”

“But, then he thought there was a bounty on your head? Why?”

“He assumed I was on the run from someone because of my bruises. Didn’t believe me when I said I’d gotten myself into a different type of trouble, then chased me down, tied me up, and dragged me around for miles.”

“Dragged!? Don’t say dragged!” Inuyasha shouted, suddenly more concerned for his well-being than he was before. He flinched, holding his hands up when Kaede pulled her fist back again in a threatening motion. “She walked! I made her walk for a few miles!”

“No, no, that’s true!” Kagome quickly said, correcting her choice of vocabulary. “I wasn’t literally dragged, I promise!”

“What else?” Kaede demanded.

“Kaede, stop!” Inuyasha laughed. “She’s fine, just look at her.”

“I’m not talking to you, shit-for-brains!”

“He tied me to a couple trees, and called me a crybaby when we accidentally bonked heads.” Kagome added.

“‘Bonked’? Who the fuck says ‘bonked’?” Inuyasha ridiculed.

“Would you like me to use a worse term?” She shot back.

“No, no, ‘bonked’ is fine.” He chuckled, wincing when Kaede lurched at him again. God, he should have known that Kaede would take another female’s side over his own any day.

“And, then what?”

“That’s about it. He untied me after a while. Oh, but he did try to attack me with his sword, and I thought that was overkill.”

Inuyasha froze, his face paling as he watched Kaede’s attention slowly drift back to him, a furious fire igniting behind her eyes. She went to actually throw her fist at him, but he dodged, swerving around her, jumping on top of the bed to bounce to the opposite side, and ducking to hide behind Kagome where he knew he’d be safest. There was no fucking way Kaede would compromise Kagome’s security.

“It’s a misunderstanding!”

“How the fuck is that a misunderstanding!?”

Kagome stood there unfazed, wobbling forward and back as Inuyasha protected himself behind her, his hands on her shoulders to keep her in place as Kaede approached with heavy stomps.

“The first time, I was just trying -“

“First time!?”

“Let me explain! I was just trying to scare the attitude out of her!”

“Kind of worked.” Kagome muttered, knowing she was probably unheard over Inuyasha’s nervous yelling. Ironically, she felt completely disregarded despite literally behind held in the middle of their fight.

“Tessaiga didn’t transform, though! So, the second time I pulled it, I was just trying to see why!”

“It has a name?” Kagome grimaced, again going ignored.

“You should have never pulled it in the first place, you big-tittied man!”

“At no point did I actually plan on harming her with it!”

“I don’t care! Was Kagome even brandishing a weapon at you!?”

“She was acting high and mighty! I needed to put her in her place!”

Kagome grimaced again at his poor choice of words. He had quite the nerve to use her as a shield while being rude.

“Inuyasha, you son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry! Look, she’s fine! She’s totally fine! I didn’t hurt her, I promise! Tell her I didn’t hurt you, kid!”

Oh, now she’s being acknowledged. Kagome rolled her eyes, sighing out before dully saying, “He didn’t hurt me. He let me go that night, gave me some food, let me sleep, and even covered me with something so I’d be warm.”

For the second time that day, an irrational heat rushed to Inuyasha’s face. At no point had he considered she’d wake up and notice he’d done that, and instantly he was embarrassed. “No, I didn’t.” He retorted out of pure reaction when Kaede perked with a curious expression.

“Yeah, you did.” Kagome countered, peeking over her shoulder at him. “I saw it.”

“You must have been dreaming.” Inuyasha said, letting her go.

“It’s the whole reason I knew you were being attacked. I had your scent all over me, which attracted a couple of those demons my way.”

Kaede sniggered, pinching her lips together while she observed Inuyasha’s humiliation. Public affection in any way, shape, or form had never been his thing. It was why she was so shocked he’d walked in with a woman hanging on his arm in the first place, which she easily dismissed when she realized Kagome was severely ill. But, to know he’d taken it upon himself to make sure the girl kept warm in the middle of the night was something entirely new.

“Kagome, do you remember what it was?” She reached, never really pinging Inuyasha the type to carry a blanket around.

“Kind of. It was red. A jacket, maybe? Is it the thing you put in my bag?”

Kaede slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter behind her tightly-pressed palm when Inuyasha’s face burned even brighter. There was literally no disputing Kagome in the first place since she had traceable evidence, but Kaede knew exactly which garment Kagome was referring to. Inuyasha had been wearing the damned thing when they first met years ago. His father’s robe of the fire rat. Nowadays, he merely used it when the weather got a bit nippy since it was surprisingly cozy, but she knew it was a cherished item of his. The half demon’s face burned brighter, his lips pursing as he glanced over at Kaede when he fully came out from behind Kagome.

“If you’re going to hit me, just do it. Otherwise, go away.”

“I don’t really want to after that.”

“Go away then.”

“I feel like all is right in the world now.” Kaede teased, acting as if a weight had lifted from her chest by breathing deeply.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I sure am.” She grinned, shutting the door behind her on her way out.

“So,”

“No. Don’t start.” Inuyasha cut Kagome off, not even looking at her. “I’ll kick you out, too.”

Kagome swallowed her laughter, doing Inuyasha the favor of pretending she hadn’t seen his maddening blush. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Drop it.” He said, making himself comfortable on the side of the bed. It was nicely made and he laid back against the pillows, slightly propped up while his gaze rested on the ceiling.

At least he had part of the answer he was looking for the night before. About how Kagome had found him, or even knew he was under attack. He’d considered that maybe she’d turned around and headed in his direction instead of the one she’d left in, making it nothing more than a coincidence. Or, maybe she was being shady and followed him while he was too distracted by the other fuckers he was being stalked by. Apparently, someone had literally told her about it.

And, she came running.

Kagome pushed the curtains to stay open, sitting on the cushioned chair in the corner so that she could watch the sun set on the town outside. It was beautiful, the world painted in warm oranges that she appreciated to no ends. She didn’t care how common or cliche it was considered to adore sunsets. They brought her joy, and in this chaotic time they lived in, everyone should relish in those little, beautiful details the universe had to offer.

“My scent,” Inuyasha spoke from across the room, catching Kagome’s attention. He wasn’t looking at her, his silver lashes fluttering with each blink as he stared upward, his forearm resting just above his head on the pillow. “Did someone think you were me?”

“No, that’s not it.” She refuted with a soft sway of her head, eyes wandering back outside. She pulled her knees into her chest, adjusting the nightgown Kaede lent her to drape over her legs. “There were two of them, and they thought we were a bit closer than what we are and wanted to try and use me against you. They told me all about their attack, so I headed over to make sure you were alright. I’m really glad that I did.”

Inuyasha had to remind himself to neglect her last comment or else it would just be another thing that flustered him. Twice in one day was two times too many, so the last thing he was going to do was walk into another. Because, the first thought that came to mind was to ask, even now? Even after she’d been so cripplingly sick, even after she was debilitated and weak, even after she feared for her life and cried in secrecy? Even now, you’re still glad? And, he was positive she’d say yes. Even now. So, he avoided it altogether.

“Look, I just want you to know that I only put the damn robe on you in the first place because you were shivering like a fucking baby.”

“Okay,” Kagome said lightly, sucking on her bottom lip so she wouldn’t smile. Due to his deflecting demeanor, she was ninety-nine percent certain she was not and he was just trying to cover for himself. She didn’t fully understand why. She thought it was sweet of him. God forbid he do something genuinely compassionate without taking it back. Nevertheless, he seemed uncomfortable expressing such acts, and it wasn’t something she was going to force him to own up to. “I appreciate it either way.”

“Whatever.” He grumbled. “What did you mean, they wanted to use you against me?”

“Well, they said they’d win no matter what, but your sword was a nuisance, so they’d use me as a hostage so you’d give up. I kindly told them that wouldn’t work.”

He chuckled, pinching his brows as he imagined the ridiculous thought. “So, what happened after that?”

“I - uh - took care of them.” Kagome sheepishly admitted.

“You mean, you killed them?”

“Yeah.” She tried not to laugh. It felt apathetic to laugh, but it wasn’t their death she found humorous. It was more the way she was awkwardly dancing around the subject.

“So, that’s two. Who was the third?”

“Third?”

“You said you killed three men before saving my ass. Who was the third?” Inuyasha repeated, now looking at her. While the sun that set behind the hills wasn’t facing her, the rays of warm colors still hit her skin. It was too enrapturing to look away from, no matter how many times he inwardly told himself to do so. The oranges and pinks, the purples and yellows, the glowing highlights and soothing shadows adorned her better than he imagined anything ever could. The color in her cheeks had returned, and now were basked in hues no one would ever get the privilege of seeing on her at all hours of the day. Maybe that’s what made it better.

The eye closest to the lighting, her right eye, shimmered with high definition reds and golds, and the brown resembled the natural beauty of the forest floor. He’d visited the ocean, he’d seen bodies of water, he’d ambled through grass and fields of flowers, he’d seen the world, the pretty and the ugly, he’d walked through fire, traveled hills, climbed mountains, and ran through gardens of the most striking wonders, but nothing could ever take away his love for the woodlands. Nothing ever compared to the minerals that sparkled in the dirt, or the bark that patterned over aged trees. Nothing came close to the scent of burning wood in the middle of the night as he camped out, waiting for sunrise, and nothing could ever relate to the absolute and wonderful calm he experienced when his boots crunched against the fallen leaves, or when he waited out the moon, but especially when he watched the sun make its ascent through the sky. Her eyes took him there. He was laying on a bed in the middle of a room with no clear visual of anything outside, and Kagome’s eyes took him to that calm he desired whenever things got just a little too overwhelming.

With a sharp pinch of his claw against the palm of the same hand, Inuyasha was able to divert his attention back to the ceiling. The sun would completely be gone in a matter of moments, and she’d be safe to look at again without his mind running circles around him.

“Oh, he was watching from the sidelines. I couldn’t sneak past him, so I had to kill him.” Kagome answered.

“Savage.” He remarked.

“You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.”

It grew quiet for a while. Kagome watched the few people that were out make their way back home. She watched the mountain in the distance, the one the sun hid behind, shadow the grounds and darken their world. She tried to spot the moon in the sky but had no vantage point for that, but the way it glowed against the earth was still soothing and radiant.

She could tell Inuyasha wasn’t asleep from the way his breathing had never deepened or become rhythmic. His eyes were closed, but he seemed to simply be resting peacefully. While the silence wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, she still didn’t much want to sit in it right now. She’d been asleep for so long, woken up in silence, and truthfully, wanted to drown out any negative thoughts in her head that might potentially creep up. At the moment, she was fine, but she wanted to keep it that way.

“What’s your favorite color?” Kagome asked, making sure to keep her voice smooth so it wasn’t loud or startling.

Inuyasha’s eyes blinked open, brows furrowing perplexedly at her random question. Glancing her way, he noticed her patient grin, but he couldn’t pinpoint why she wanted to know something as inconsequential as that. “What?”

“What’s your favorite color?” She repeated in the same tone.

“Don’t have one.” He said, his frown remaining.

“Everyone has a favorite color.”

“Fine. Black.” He watched her head tilt to the side, her lips parting, but he beat her to the punch with her next statement by mockingly saying, “Black’s a shade, not a color.”

He listened for her giggle to die, rolling his eyes when he finally said, “I don’t know. Maybe blue. But, like, dark blue. Or, dark purple.”

“Oh, those are pretty.” Kagome remarked, setting her chin on the top of her knee. “Mine’s baby pink and lavender. I love Spring-time colors.”

Inuyasha didn’t say anything in response, but he was unfazed when she asked another question a small moment later.

“What’s your favorite food?”

“What is this, the question game?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Kagome countered. “I mean, I figured if all is well tomorrow, we’ll be going our separate ways, right? Why not get to know each other in the meantime? We’re both awake, we’re in the same room, nothing traumatic is happening for once, so why not actually hang out and talk?”

“Sounds stupid.”

“Humor me.”

“Fine. If it’ll shut you up.” He said dully. “Ramen. I like ramen.”

“Ramen’s good. I’ve only had it a couple of times. Mine’s chocolate. Cake. Chocolate cake.” It was actually horrible how much she loved chocolate cake. If it was the only thing she ate for the rest of her life, she’d find the life she lived to be quite fulfilling. “What’s your favorite animal? I know it’s not dogs.”

“Oh, ha-ha.” Inuyasha rolled his eyes again. “I really don’t have one of those, but because I know you’re gonna make me choose something, I’d have to say cats.”

“How ironic.”

Inuyasha grabbed the pillow next to him and chucked it at the girl in the corner, her laughter filling his ears as she protected herself in the nick of time. “Shut up and tell me yours.”

“Pandas.”

“Pandas? Fucking bears?”

“Yes, but they’re so cute and funny! More particularly, red pandas!”

“What the fuck is a red panda?”

“They’re smaller, and cuter, and well, red. And, they do this thing with their arms when they get scared where -“ She found herself mimicking the motions a red panda would make, noticing the odd way Inuyasha arched his brow at her, and her cheeks flushed embarrassingly. Even more so when he chuckled, but she laughed at herself, putting her arms down. “Never mind, forget that. What’s your favorite season?”

“Summer.”

“Autumn.”

“I thought you’d say Spring.” Inuyasha said, remembering her recent mention of Spring-time colors.

“I mean, Spring is pretty, but Autumn is prettier. When all the leaves change colors and begin to fall, and there’s that relieving nip in the air Summer was never kind enough to provide.”

“Alright, how many siblings do you have? I remember you bringing up your brother once.” He asked, participating in her little game, and Kagome grew visibly happier.

“Just one. My younger brother, Sota. But, my cousin, Miroku, and I are super close, so he’s practically my older brother. We were raised together, and after his dad died, my mom didn’t hesitate to take him in. What about you? Got any siblings?”

“Eh.” Inuyasha gave a small, distasteful grimace. “I mean, technically I’ve got a half brother, but he’s a bitch so not really.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You two don’t get along?”

“You could say that, but that would be putting it nicely. The douche has hated me since birth and doesn’t consider me family, so he can suck a dick and choke on it. He’s got a massive superiority complex and no actual personality to contribute, so I don’t even fucking care.”

“Well, good riddance.” Kagome huffed in agreement.

“Your turn.”

“Okay, how old are you?”

“Twenty. You’re eighteen, right?”

“Yeah. Nineteen, pretty soon. Speaking of ages, how old is Kaede?”

“Twenty-five or twenty-six, I think.”

“Oh, no way. I thought she was closer to our age.”

“Nah, she’s got a few years on us. She’ll be sprouting wrinkles in no time.”

“Twenty-six isn’t old.” Kagome giggled. “And, even if she does get a few, I’m willing to bet you’re the one that causes them.”

“Hey, I’ll gladly take credit for that.” He laughed.

“You’re so mean. How long have you two known each other?”

“Give or take five years or so.” Inuyasha answered.

“You guys are really close, it seems. Are you…”

“Ew, no.” He cringed, feigning a gag and making Kagome laugh. “I knew that was the next question you were gonna ask. We’re not each other’s type. Frankly, I’m convinced she likes women, but she has neither confirmed nor denied, and it’s none of my damn business.”

“Okay, okay, fair enough.” Kagome conceded, bracing her hands before her to relent. “Sorry I asked.”

“You should be. What about you? You got anyone waiting for you at home?”

“Given the context, I’m assuming you mean a significant other?” Kagome asked.

He grunted to confirm.

“No,” She shook her head, smiling. “No one like that. Just family waiting for me.”

“Which is your mom, cousin, and brother, right?”

“Right.”

“And, your dad passed?”

“Right.”

“How?”

“There was a huge, wild demon attack on my village when I was around twelve. We have a handful of demon slayers now, but several years ago we had less, so in order to defend our village, all capable parties had to fight back. We lost a good number of people that night, both my dad and my uncle included.” Kagome explained. She’d come to terms with the incident, and while she missed her papa so incredibly much, it wasn’t very difficult to talk about anymore.

“Wait, you and your cousin lost your fathers in the same night?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.” She could practically hear the apology in his tone. “What about his mom?”

“Died in child birth. He never knew her.” She said. “He’s always had my mom as a maternal figure, and believe you me, she’s got plenty of motherly affection to spare. She’d take in a gnome and give it a home if she could.” Kagome joked.

“That’s an exaggeration, right?”

“Not in the least.” She stated frankly, shaking her head.

“A garden gnome? A clay figurine?”

“I said what I said, Inuyasha. If she could, she would.”

“So, she’s more the sweet and doting parent, huh?”

“No, my dad was.” Kagome laughed. “He hated disciplining us. I swear, sometimes it hurt his feelings to tell us we were in the wrong more than it hurt even us. My mom is sweet, yes, but that also made her more terrifying when she had to get stern.”

“Were you the problem child?” Inuyasha grinned crookedly.

“Nope, that trophy goes to Miroku. He’s a turd. Don’t get me wrong, I got into plenty of trouble, but rarely was I alone in my troublemaking.”

“There’s always a ring leader.” He chuckled.

“What about your parents?”

“Both dead.” Inuyasha said with a meager, one-shouldered shrug. “Old man died before I was even ten, and mom died when I was about fourteen.”

Kagome could tell by the way his amber eyes drifted an inch to the side for a moment, by the way his expression faltered minutely, by the way he didn’t delve further into the subject that it wasn’t a topic he liked to visit. She respected that, and she never wanted to see that pain etched across his face. Just because it was easy to talk about her own father’s death, didn’t mean it was the same for another. And, he’d lost them both. At so young an age, he was completely alone. She hoped she was wrong. She hoped she was being presumptuous. She hoped he had someone to lean on in his time of need.

“Day or night?” Kagome asked, changing their course.

“Day.” Inuyasha answered, once more looking at her.

“Same.”

“Alright, I’ve got one for you.” He said, sitting up a little more with a cunning expression. “Who are you looking for?”

Slowly, Kagome’s face shifted from content, to curious, to surprised, and he could barely bite back his amusement. Her brown eyes were wide but she had yet to say anything or swerve him away from the topic like she had the other night, instead mouth hanging agape, telling him his suspicions were correct.

“I’m assuming you couldn’t tell me before because you’re a conjurer and it’s conjurer-related, right?”

“Inuyasha -“

“Well, if that’s the case, I know you’re a conjurer now. Cat’s out of the bag, kid, so you may as well tell me who you’re after.”

“Why do you want to know so bad?” Kagome nearly laughed. If persistent were a person, she would be looking right at him.

“Your refusal to tell me has made me extraordinarily interested. You did this to yourself.” Inuyasha shrugged carelessly. The way he stared aided in the pressure he added to receive an answer; expectant and pleased.

“You’re so nosy.”

“What’s it gonna hurt?”

“Me, honestly. You’ll most likely think I’m insane, say something rude, then hurt my feelings.” She stated lightly, slightly joking but also serious. In all consideration, this was Inuyasha.

“For you to be insecure about it before even mentioning the details tells me that you, too, think it’s pretty insane. So, since we’re on the same page, just tell me.”

“Yes, but I’m allowed to think that. It’s my business.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll keep my opinions to myself for now.” He compromised.

“For now?”

“Well, I can’t promise forever. Let’s be real, it’s not right to make promises I can’t keep. So, for now is the best I can give you, and I think it’s very generous.”

“Inuyasha, you’re seriously going to think I’m insane.” Kagome grumbled, slightly exasperated as she ducked her head against her knees, pulling her legs in just a smidge closer.

“In all honesty, I kind of already do, so might as well keep the trend going.”

“Yeah, that’ll convince me to tell you.” She murmured sardonically, and he chuckled, still hearing her clearly.

“Come on, Kagome. Who are you after?”

“Kikyo.” Kagome admitted, her tone soft.

“Who?”

She sighed deeply, sitting up and looking at him to speak a little clearer. “I was looking for a woman named Kikyo. Look, it’s complicated and a bit messy, so take that to heart as I elaborate, okay?”

“Alright.” He agreed, giving his undivided attention.

“The other day when I told you I was looking for someone, I was looking for Kikyo. She’s a conjurer. A really strong conjurer.”

“But, that’s changed?”

“What?”

“Well, you keep saying ‘was.’ Have your plans changed?”

“Yes, but only because she told me to stop looking for her and figure things out on my own.” Kagome huffed, frustration budding as she thought back to their conversation in the burning woods.

“When?” His brows furrowed speculatively. “You’ve been with me. Did you bump into her in the few hours we were apart?”

She grimaced prematurely, realizing just how crazy things were about to sound to someone who hadn’t been in her circle since the day things started. “Not quite. See, this is where things get a little weird. Kikyo likes to communicate with me in my… dreams? Subconscience?” Her tone had curved upward to speak of her uncertainty of how to phrase things.

At first, Inuyasha’s right brow arched, and she could see the information she’d just given him seeping in. Then, he blinked a few times, an inquisitive expression taking over before he pinched his lips into a tight line that she could only guess was to prevent him from saying anything judgmental.

“Hm.” He remarked intriguingly.

“Oh my god.” Kagome groaned, rolled her eyes and dropping her head back before pinning him with a warning glare.

“Please, go on.” He insisted, going right back to pressing his lips together, fighting the crinkle at the corners.

Despite how badly she wanted to chuck something at him, he technically wasn’t saying anything rude, so she begrudgingly obliged. “It started about a year ago where she would appear while I was sleeping and tell me, ‘the responsibility is ours.’ Nothing more, nothing less. Just that. At first, her visits were few and far between, but then they came more frequently after about half a year or so, and that’s when she finally took the opportunity to introduce herself. ‘The responsibility is ours.’ ‘Only we can end Naraku.’ ‘Prepare yourself.’ ‘The responsibility is ours.’ ‘The responsibility is ours.’” Kagome quoted, sneering in disbelief as she chuckled at herself. “You know, she’s really awful at explaining things. When you think about it, it’s actually kind of refreshing to see some human quirks in her, because the image I had of her was this perfect, flawless, powerful, unstoppable conjurer who was leading the war against evil. Turns out, she’s got faults too, and one of those happens to be details. Or, the lack thereof.”

“What makes you say that?” Inuyasha’s tone had surprisingly taken on a more serious note, rumbling huskily as he spoke, but he gazed at her patiently while she explained.

“Her repetition, her generalized statements, I thought they were going to all of us. Conjurers, I mean. She said ‘ours’ so many freaking times, and she never once addressed me by name to suggest her message was individualized.”

“But, it was?”

“Apparently.” Kagome scorned. “It wasn’t until the night I left home that she came and actually spoke to me. Every other message was very impersonal, but this time, she said my name. She told me it was time to go, reaffirming my decision to head out. See, I always thought that I’d get a heads up from her that the time was nearing, but after watching the little conjurer get killed, I made the decision on my own. I was so tired. I’m sure you understand what it’s like to be on a hit list and having to hide who you are. Or, hide in general. It’s hard watching how difficult this can be on others, how life has changed over the course of five years, the destruction, the mayhem, the anger, and pain, and hopelessness, and fear. The little girl was the last straw. I should have never allowed it to go that far.”

“Stop. You’re going down a dangerous route. Pull back.” Inuyasha reminded firmly. He could see the emotions written on her face, in the way her eyes had drifted to the floor. It’s easy to believe mistakes are your own fault, especially detrimental ones. When you’re involved, it’s exceedingly more difficult to remember the blame belongs solely to the perpetrators.

“It’s true, though.” She whispered.

“So, it fueled you to take a step forward?”

“Yeah.” Still, her voice was barely evident, but as she glanced up at the hanyou, she noticed his stare, his vivid and glowing eyes were trying to guide her away from the harmful aspects of the subject. And, she took his hand, following his lead as she swallowed thickly to figuratively push negative thoughts away and continue on with her story, her voice returning to normal. “Yes. Even though the plan wouldn’t be carried out as it had originally been constructed, I felt like I had to do something immediately. I dozed off waiting for the right time to slip out, meaning everyone would be asleep, and there she was. Kikyo was right outside my house in my dream, telling me to get up and go. She even said my name, which, until that point, I didn’t know she knew. Next time I saw her was two nights ago while I was with you. She yelled at me.”

Inuyasha chuckled lightly at the casual way Kagome slipped that in. “For what?”

“Getting myself into trouble with you.” She laughed, bowing her head in shame. “She didn’t like that too much.”

“How’d she even know?”

“She’s got a pet snake. Let’s just leave it at that. That’s a whole other story for a different day.” Kagome dismissed with a wave of her hand, grimacing. “That was when she told me to stop looking for her, though. She let me know it was just she and I against Naraku.” Kagome paused, letting her own words sink in with herself. Suddenly, a wave of turbulence jostled her mind, releasing a belated reaction to the reality of her situation. “It’s absurd. Oh my god, it’s - it’s absurd. All this time, I thought she was building an army, and it’s just she and I! And, we can’t be near each other, otherwise Naraku will find out and we’ll be, as she claimed, ‘sitting ducks.’ What’s even crazier is she said she’s the distraction and I’m the weapon. What does that even mean!? A weapon!? I get my ass beat three days in a row, but yeah, sure, I’m the secret weapon that’s going to take down this supreme madman. Logic - out the window! Stop looking at me like that!”

“You’re going a little nuts over there; you can hardly blame me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“I feel like you’ve been sitting on this information for a couple days and it’s just now hitting you.” Inuyasha stated warily.

“That’s because it is!” Kagome declared, flustered.

“You told me I would think you’re insane. I was prepared for insane, so why weren’t you?”

“Because, I was focused on the fact that it’s weird to have someone casually strolling in and out of your subconscience. I hadn’t thought about how crazy it would sound that I’m a weapon in a party of two destined to fight Naraku. And, what about this responsibility thing? How is this my responsibility? Is it because I’m a conjurer? I mean, I’m here. I’m going to fight. I volunteered either way. I just want to know when and how this became obligatory! Make it make sense, Kikyo!”

“You’re…” Inuyasha paused, gathering Kagome’s reaction in, her irate demeanor, her body language and the way she expressed herself with flinging arms. “Whining.”

“I’m upset!”

“Alright, alright! Never thought I’d say this, but I miss your broken voice. You get all high-pitched when you’re freaking out. It’s like listening to a whistle.”

“I can get louder!” She threatened.

“Please do not.” He flinched at the thought, ears pressing back against his head. “Look, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think you’re insane for any of the listed reasons you gave.”

Though she still appeared aggravated and conflicted, Kagome steadily began to settle. She appreciated the way Inuyasha wasn’t judging her for the things that now had her feeling like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff. She appreciated the way his gaze held stable on her, and how it inadvertently seemed to stabilize her own emotions. “You don’t?”

“Not really. I think you’re a little insane for not processing everything sooner and then having a moment right now, but honestly that’s not all that surprising to me anymore.”

Kagome took the pillow he’d thrown at her earlier and tossed it right back at him with as much fervor as she could muster. The half demon grabbed the pillow in time, easily defending himself and laughing.

“Tell me when I would have had the time, Inuyasha.”

“Uh, in the time we were apart.” He suggested mockingly.

“I had thought about it, yes, but it was more about my next move. I’d always thought my goal would be to find Kikyo. Find Kikyo, and the rest of the path is laid out before you. Then, just like that, everything had changed, and I had to determine where I was going next. I mean, I thought I had processed everything then and I was just taking it super well.”

“That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t seem to be the extremely rational or logical type who understands the situation immediately. You’re more emotion-driven, so of course it’s not going to sink in until you really get the opportunity to feel the issue out.”

He was right. Kagome hated that he was right, but he was right. Even more so, she hated that he’d figured her out in just two day’s time and she couldn’t bounce a you don’t know me off of him. Her cheeks flushed furiously, heat flooding over, and she couldn’t determine if it was because she was frustrated or flabbergasted.

“Yeah? Well, you’re immature and just as emotional as I am. You react irrationally, and you probably act before you think.” Kagome countered.

“All true, but this isn’t about me.” He smirked.

It was the way her comment just rolled right off of him, the way he agreed, the way he grinned, the way he teased her that interestingly had her attitude crumbling away, bringing her to laugh no matter how badly she’d attempted to fight it off. Kagome had told herself nothing was funny, pressed her mouth shut, and tried to force herself to stay mad, but it didn’t matter. It all melted away, and she laughed. Truth was, it was funny. It was so chaotic, it was humorous. Kagome had just absolutely freaked out while telling her own story, and the half demon opposite her could only stare at her awkwardly and essentially tell her to chill the fuck out. She was the one that was supposed to be telling him that. He was supposed to be calling her crazy for thinking some ethereal woman was visiting her to give her some “chosen one” arc, and he merely thought she was crazy because she was just now realizing what this all meant. When and how did things get so turned around?

Honestly, Kagome felt she should stop asking questions like that. At this point in time, there was no making sense of things. There was simply going with the flow and taking it all with a grain of salt, because she had a huge feeling things wouldn’t be lining up for a while.

“So, this Kikyo. Is this the Kikyo?” Inuyasha asked, and Kagome’s expression sort of lit up.

“You’ve heard of her, too?”

“Vaguely. I don’t know much about her, but I know she’s widely hated in the demon community. The demon’s for Naraku, that is. Makes sense that she’s a conjurer, I guess.”

“Yeah, that’s sort of what got me into massive trouble with Naraku’s henchmen.” Kagome watched Inuyasha’s brows furrow in question, so she took the opportunity to give him more context. “The little girl, she was so scared. I just wanted to give her some hope, so I told her Kikyo was going to kill Naraku and the conjurers would win. Turns out, I’d said it a little too loud. There was so much commotion, and I didn’t realize I was within earshot of one of the demons, and that’s when he manhandled me.” She said, exhibiting her fading neck bruise with a glide of her hand. “This was when I thought she was communicating with all conjurers, though. Neither the girl nor her mother knew what I was talking about, so I had to lie my way out of it.”

“You had good intentions. I’d say it was worth it.”

“Yeah. I don’t regret it.” Kagome gave a small smile.

“You said Kikyo was strong?”

“I mean, she has to be. Don’t you think? With the way she can talk to me, with how she’s been surviving all this time, and she’s even got a reputation with Naraku. To me, that says she’s extremely powerful.”

“But yet, she’s the distraction and you’re the weapon.” Inuyasha stated more than asked.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either.”

“Did you bother asking for clarification?”

“I did. She said I’m supposed to be stronger than her. According to her, I just need to stop holding back and apply myself.”

“Bullshit.” He shot, feeling defensive over Kagome. “That’ll get you killed. You didn’t hold back yesterday, and look what happened to you. There’s so much fucking more that goes into learning how to control your power; it isn’t just about not holding back.”

“Well, I think she meant it more along the lines of holding myself back. Maybe that’s what she said - I don’t know, it’s hard to remember our conversation clearly. When I was training with Miroku and Sango, I would have to really control how much power I released to make sure nothing stood out among the villagers. Like, we couldn’t be completely demon-attack-free, because that would be conspicuous. Because of that, I never really got a good feel of what I could do besides fend off one or two demons at a time.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s in the same realm, Kagome. Apply yourself, sure. But, you and I have both seen what not holding yourself back can and will do to you. No, you didn’t know what would happen, but now that you do and you’re aware of what you’re capable of, you need to make sure your body can handle that. I don’t know what sort of training course she endured to get herself where she is, and I sure as hell don’t fucking know her strength firsthand, but I know yours. She wants you to catch up to her, and I get that the pressure is on, but the expectations aren’t fucking fair. Did she even tell you how to handle your power?”

“No. I asked her to train me and she said she couldn’t because of the whole sitting duck thing.”

“So, it’s up to you to figure it out on your own?”

“Basically. And, it’d be damn near impossible to find another conjurer to help.”

“Right. Her standards are fucking unrealistic as shit.”

“Inuyasha, why are you so upset?” Kagome asked, slightly taken aback. His jaw had flexed and he seemed irrationally peeved for her situation.

“I’m not.” He declared unconvincingly.

“You’re mad.”

“She’s going to get you killed, Kagome. And, for what? You don’t even fucking know why you’re involved.”

“Because, I’m a conjurer.”

“And?”

“I know, Inuyasha. This is confusing for me, too. Now, you can understand why I wasn’t handing things too well a moment ago.” She said, her temperament spiking once more. She wasn’t nearly at the level she sat at before, nor was she matching Inuyasha’s attitude, but she still huffed in agreement. It was trivial and terrifying, and if she just knew more about the situation, maybe she’d feel a little better about things, but she had so little to go off of while monumental events stood before her. The expectations were drastic while her experience was limited, and again, nothing was matching up.

“Why were you so concerned about me thinking you were insane when Kikyo’s right fucking there? She should at least be required to give you a reason as to why she’s filling out your will for you.”

“I told you she’s not great with detail. She even admitted she’s been told she could be more direct.”

“This isn’t the fucking time to play guessing games. If there’s a question she knows the answer to, she should just fucking answer it.”

“But, we’re two different people and maybe spiritual powers aren’t the same for each individual. Playing devil’s advocate, maybe there isn’t one specific path we can all follow in learning how to control our powers because it’s different for everyone.”

“Did she tell you that, herself?”

“Well, no -“

“Exactly.”

“Inuyasha, what I’m saying is, she can’t know everything. Like I said before, it was refreshing to see some human characteristics from her, because she came off so flawless and omniscient. Maybe, she couldn't give me more than what she had because she doesn’t know what I need to do in order to catch up.”

“Have you seen her powers at work?”

“No, I haven’t. But, take her reputation into consideration.”

“Oh, I am. Believe me, I am. You don’t make an enemy like that without some sort of immeasurability.”

“Right. I really don’t know where I come into the picture, but I have to trust Kikyo in this. She’s an enemy of the enemy, we share the same fate, so if we’re the only ones who can face Naraku, then I’ll do it.”

“That’s the thing, though. You’re wrong. You’re both wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“You aren’t the only ones who can fight him. Not even close. Naraku’s strong, yes, but he’s no god. No matter how delusional he is in thinking so, he’s not immortal. Naraku’s nothing but a self-created half demon.” Inuyasha stated, watching Kagome’s expression widen. “There are plenty of others who plan on fighting against him. It’s all about finding the motherfucker first. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s hiding.”

It took a moment for Kagome to really process what he’d just said. Naraku wasn’t a full-blooded demon? He was a half demon? There were others, just like she’d initially suspected. In the span of thirty seconds, Kagome had received enough information to stun her.

“First - first of all, how did you know that?” She asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Infiltration. I passed him once. Won’t work again. It was towards the very beginning of his rise, and skipping over the minor details, I got a glimpse of him at his most vulnerable.”

“Wait, no, don’t skip over any details! Please!”

“Kagome, it doesn’t fucking matter. I’m telling you what does. He was causing hell, I snuck in, I found out that he’s a half demon.”

“Does he know you know?”

“I’d be dead if he did. No, he doesn’t know I know. Every half demon’s got a monthly moment of weakness where their human state takes over, and his was disgusting and inhuman. I don’t know what the fuck he did to become the creature he is, but because he was incapacitated, he didn’t even realize I was there. I was young, and I had my mother -“ He halted, redirecting his sentence. “I had other things to take into consideration. So, I didn’t do anything. Couldn’t. It was risky enough sneaking in; I couldn’t take any chances. For the first time in my life, I was too rational for my own good. I had the opportunity and backed out. And, it’s my one regret in life.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at all the hell he’s brought since then, Kagome.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I could have prevented all of this if I had just killed him then.”

“Inuyasha, you were a kid.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Of course, it does. Not to mention, a guy like him would never fully let his guard down. There may always be someone at his side watching, and you could have died. Your younger self considered that then and turned around. No one would blame you for that. I certainly don’t. If you had someone or something important to think about, then you did the right thing by leaving Naraku alone.” Kagome attested.

“Whatever. Forget it.” He sighed heatedly. “The point is, I’m after Naraku, too. I know an entire tribe who wants his head. I know humans who would pay to have him killed. This is Naraku we’re talking about, he’s made nothing but enemies. So, Kikyo needs to chill out with this whole the responsibility is ours shit.”

Kagome sat on all of that for a moment, taking in Inuyasha’s steadfast glare and hardened brow, his set jaw and hardly-noticeable frown, the same determination she’d like to claim she, herself, radiated. He was after Naraku. Inuyasha, the first person she’d met on her journey, was also after Naraku. Maybe that’s why she was so interested in him when they’d first met, maybe that was why she wasn’t as afraid of him as she knew she should have been. Maybe her intuition was telling her he was more than trustworthy, and more than just an ally. Maybe it was fated for them to meet.

It wasn’t something she felt bold enough to mention aloud, though. Fate was a controversial topic, and at this point, it was nothing more than a fleeting contemplation. Throwing the thought out there would surely get her weirder looks than she’d already received, and with how tense things were in the room, Kagome didn’t know if it was the right thing to talk about at the moment. She needed to deliberate on it. She needed to see how it settled in her gut before bringing anything to Inuyasha’s attention.

“The - uh - the second thing I’d wanted to ask was sort of answered already, but I just want to make sure I’ve got it all.” Kagome prefaced. “You said you saw Naraku in a debilitated state, right? That he was in his weakened, human form, but was also… inhuman?”

“I don’t know how to describe it, if that’s what you’re looking for. It was sort of like his head was basking in a jumbled mess of demon intestines.”

She wavered in a disgusted manner.

“Yeah, I know.” He remarked.

“So, that made you think he’s a half demon?”

“No, that let me know he was a half demon. An unnatural one.” Inuyasha stated pridefully. “Trust me, Kagome, if anyone’s able to tell, it’s me.”

“That’s fair. So, are you part of a group prepared to take him on?”

The hanyou scoffed, shaking his head as a small smirk appeared across his face, golden eyes blinking to the side. “No fucking way. Do I look like a groupie to you? I do things on my own, in my own way, and in the end it’s going to be half breed against half breed.”

“Wait, you’re committed to a solo mission, but you’re against mine and Kikyo’s?”

“Yes and no. I’m against yours because you don’t know what you’re doing at no fault of your own. I’m against yours because you’re being told to leap when you haven’t even learned how to jump, and you’re prepared to do so because you’re naive enough to think someone knows what’s best for you just because they’re another conjurer. I don’t care if you, or Kikyo, or anyone else makes it to the battle field. In fact, if you do, even better. It can be an all out war for all I care. What I’m saying is, it’s going to be me that brings Naraku’s era to an end.”

Kagome had to respect his pugnacity. If he did get the final blow, he’d definitely deserve that victory. No matter what, it would be a win for everyone.

He was right, she didn’t know what she was doing. Yet. Kikyo was holding things off until Kagome was ready, and she was more than willing to give the stronger conjurer the benefit of the doubt. She said she had potential, but Kagome was willing to bet that not even Kikyo knew she had the power she’d exhibited yesterday under her belt. Kagome had to focus on learning how to handle it, and she would. She’d go from where she was comfortable and begin pushing forward. She’d take the power she regularly used in her routine training with Miroku and Sango and present more until she found her natural limit. That was where she’d exercise it until her body was adjusted. Until that boundary became comfortable so that she could then push that. It was all a matter of time, and Kagome would be sure to catch up. It wasn’t Kikyo’s will anymore. It was her own.

“Look,” Inuyasha spoke lowly. “I gave you information I’ve never given to anyone else before. Don’t go telling anyone Naraku’s a half demon, I’m serious. Tell that to the wrong person and it’ll get you killed faster than you can imagine. I want to believe you’ll go far, but you’ve gotta be smart about shit.”

Kagome nodded, “I understand. I won’t tell anyone other than Kikyo.”

“Good. You should go to sleep.”

“No, I’m okay.” She shook her head. She felt wide awake, and there was no way she’d be able to sleep after receiving all of that information. She needed to sort it all out and file it away categorically. She needed to make sure she remembered every minor detail Inuyasha had kindly given her. She needed to remember his defensiveness over her own conflicting situation. It was one thing for him to call her names, which she half expected at this point, but she never pictured him expressing passion over an issue that didn’t belong to him. Inuyasha, though rough around the edges, was truly a good person. And, it helped aid in her drive. “I basically slept from last night until this evening. I’m tired of being in bed.”

“I don’t care. You may feel better, but you still look exhausted. If I were you, I’d take advantage that you have the option. At least lay down.”

Again, he was right. Kagome unfurled from her spot on the chair, looking at the futon on the floor as she leaned to head in that direction.

“No.” He stopped her, his tone more demanding than necessary. “Take the bed.” Inuyasha stood, pointing to the mattress.

“I don’t mind the futon.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You should take the bed tonight.”

“I’m most likely not going to sleep.”

“If I were you, I’d take advantage that you have the option.” Kagome echoed, deepening her voice almost derisively.

“I wasn’t the one puking my brains out last night.” Inuyasha growled. “Get your dumbass in the bed.”

“It’s not that I don’t want the bed, I just think that it would be more fair if I took the futon.”

“Are you really arguing about being fair right now?”

“You slept on it last night, so tonight you deserve the bed.”

“I don’t want the bed.”

“Well, I want the futon.” Kagome laughed, dropping to her knees on the cushion and crawling over it.

“I said, take the bed.” Inuyasha growled deeper, stomping over to the infuriating woman.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Stop! Don’t touch me!”

“Last chance!” He warned, but she gave no signs that she’d scamper away, so the hanyou grabbed Kagome around her waist, pulled her up like a sack of rice, and tossed her over his shoulder, all the while she was laughing and yelping.

“Put me - ouch! Put me down!”

“Alright.” He muttered as he dropped her on the mattress.

Kagome was quick to grab the end of her gown, making sure it didn’t expose too much of her legs as she was bounced on the bed. “God, your shoulder is freaking bony.” She groaned.

Inuyasha fought back his grin, instead shooting up both middle fingers at her. Kagome grimaced mockingly in retort, adjusting herself to sit up.

“Why are you so aggressive? Wait, no! How’s your shoulder? You didn’t open the wound doing that, did you?” She asked, her attitude quickly shifting from teasing to concerned.

“It’s fine.” Inuyasha rolled his eyes, strolling back over to the futon. “I told you it’d be fine. I checked it a little while ago. There’s no chance of it opening again.”

“Is it still bandaged?”

“Shut up.”

“Is it still bandaged?” She repeated, a little more pressingly.

“Yes, Kagome. It’s bandaged. I changed them and everything.” He replied, kicking off his boots and laying down. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I do know how to take care of myself.”

“God forbid someone shows that they care about you.” Kagome grumbled, rolling her eyes just as he would. She turned around, pulling down the blankets so she could crawl beneath and get comfortable.

“I don’t need you to care about me.”

“Well, too bad, buddy. You got it.”

“Go to sleep.”

“Is it really so bad to have someone care about you? Are you scared or something?” Kagome jokingly taunted.

Yes, he was. He was terrified of her. And, she needed to shut the fuck up while she was still ahead, because she’ll never know a damn thing about it.

“I’m glad your shoulder is better.” She mentioned after a small moment, dropping all edge to her tone. “And, I’m sorry I noticed it so late.”

Kagome didn’t mind the silence. She didn’t mind his gruffness. Well, she did, but in this circumstance, she really didn’t find it offensive. He had his own unconventional way of showing he cared, and she had a more surface-level way of expressing it. Inuyasha was a good person. He really was. She liked to imagine he forced her to take the bed because it was more comfortable, and that simple act alone showed just how kind he was beneath the surface.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome spoke softly, cuddling into her pillows after freeing her hair from the messy knot it was in.

“Hm?” He grunted.

“You mentioned your mother when you said you saw Naraku in his vulnerable form.”

“No, I didn’t.” Inuyasha stated, very direct in his way of maneuvering the topic away from that. He rested on the futon, his shirt now untucked for a little more comfort, uncovered, and an arm resting behind his head. His amber eyes stared at the ceiling, a bristling sensation running over his skin at the mention of his mother.

“No, no, I’m not going to ask anything personal. I promise.” Kagome swore, worrying her bottom lip as she sensed Inuyasha’s discontent. She’d observed the way he’d corrected himself when initially mentioning his mom, and it was easy to understand that it wasn’t something he was willing to casually discuss. Nor would she think it was her place to make him. “It just had me thinking of the timeframe of things.”

“What?”

“Well, Naraku became known about five years ago, right? Four and a half, maybe? But, your mother died when you were fourteen, which was -“

“Six years ago, yes.” He said. “What, did you think Naraku just rose from the earth and started wreaking havoc? Everyone’s got a beginning, a middle, and an end, Kagome. Even he had to start somewhere.”

She felt stupid for not considering that. Kagome should have pieced together that Naraku wouldn’t just wake up one morning and decide to become a serial killer or commit genocide. He had a beginning. Before the rise she knew from him, he was still around, still perpetrating evil acts, they just went unknown to those outside of the circle it happened within.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Something tells me you’re going to no matter what, so go for it.” Inuyasha responded.

She stifled her giggle. “How much is the room?”

“Hm?”

“How much is Kaede going to charge you for the room?”

“What does it matter?”

“I’d like to contribute.” Kagome stated matter-of-factly. “I have some money, and it’s not right to expect you to pay for it all.”

“It’s fine.” He said, closing his eyes. “I don’t care about that.”

“Inuyasha -“

“Seriously. It’s not a big deal. I already paid the wage, so don’t worry about it.”

“That was - that was really nice of you. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you so much.” Kagome smiled.

“I have my moments. Will you go to sleep now?” It came as more of an instruction than a legitimate question that needed answering, so Kagome sighed out and closed her eyes, snuggling into her quilt as she pulled it closer to her face.

It was surprising what a little comfort could do for her right now. In the span of mere minutes, she went from wide awake to significantly drowsy. Kagome had thought she’d be laying there for hours, but just like that, in the warmth of the bed, in the softness of the blankets, of the fresh nightgown she wore, in the safety and security beneath both Inuyasha’s and Kaede’s protection, Kagome grew heavy in her spot before drifting into slumber.

—

The conjurer gazed at herself in the mirror in the bathroom. The mark around her neck was a soft hint of yellow, and while she felt it was gross the more she stared at it, it was also hardly noticeable anymore. Distracting herself, Kagome brushed her hair, then finished tightening and tying off her bodice, her shirt beneath slightly bunching, which she straightened out the best she could.

There was a violent flurry of butterflies in her abdomen, and nothing she’d done had yet to quell them. After letting the notion from last night really settle and sink in, Kagome honestly felt like it was true. This was fated to happen. Coincidence wasn’t this particular. He’d saved her, kept her with him - forcefully, of course, let her go, only for something to happen that made them rejoin. Lo and behold, she finds out they’re literally on the same course. So, why not do it together? It made sense to her, and it was the first thing in a long time that made sense. Now, she just needed to make it make sense to Inuyasha.

With one final, deep breath, Kagome opened the door to exit the bathroom, finding Inuyasha facing out the window. He was dressed, his sword attached to his hip, and his light hair pulled back into a ponytail that hung long. He’d said they’d get ready, have breakfast, then head out on their own, so she figured he was waiting for her.

“Hey,” Kagome started, trying not to bob from foot-to-foot nervously. She didn’t understand why, exactly, she was so uneasy about asking this. It was a simple yes or no question, if you thought about it. The worst he could say was no, and then she’d move on with her life. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh-oh. That’s never good.” He teased, looking over his shoulder.

“Ha-ha.” Kagome rolled her eyes. “Look, we’re both after the same thing, right? We both want to take down Naraku. Well, don’t you think it’d be more efficient if we did it together?”

There was a minor twitch in his brows, the corners of his lips arching downward before he spoke, turning around to fully face her. “What makes you think that?”

“I’ve never thought it would be wise for anyone to face this lunatic on their own. Personally, that was never actually in my plan. I don’t care what Kikyo says; the more we have on our side, the better. I don’t picture Naraku as invincible, but I also don’t want to underestimate him, either. He’s got this reputation for a reason. He’s capable of killing off so many for a reason. To think that a single person could potentially be responsible for his demise is a stretch. So, if we have the same goal in mind, why don’t we do this together? Instead of going out on our own after breakfast, I think we should team up. What do you say?”

Inuyasha stared at her for a second, his lips sealed shut as he hardened himself. Travel with Kagome? Keep things going as they are? No, in fact, it’d end up being more personal. She’d be by his side, she’d fight by his side, they’d go into battle together, be a team. He couldn’t have that.

It wasn’t about how much he hated the idea of banding together with someone to complete an objective. It wasn’t even about how much he’d never enjoyed the concept of relying on someone else. It was about how uncomfortable he'd started feeling around her. How unsettled he got whenever she smiled at him, how warm or welcoming her energy felt, and how off-putting that was to him. It was about the fact that Inuyasha felt it growing easier and easier to joke around and view her as an actual person as opposed to just some measly girl he met wandering in the woods at the most inopportune time.

Kagome was sensible, he’d give her that. But, it was better for him to remain alone. For his own sake. He had a feeling Kagome would grow argumentative if he said a simple decline, though, so he planned to make the notion completely undesirable for her.

“Not interested.” Inuyasha stated with a curl of his upper lip. “Do I look like a bodyguard to you?”

“What? No, that’s not -“

“I know that’s not what you meant, but that’s what would end up happening. We met how long ago? And, how many times have I saved your ass? Don’t think I see that as mere happenstance; I can tell that it’s a trend with you. You’ve always gotta have someone there to cover for you when you get in over your head, which is most likely way more often than you’re willing to admit. Probably why you originally had your cousin and friend enlisted to come with you. Speaking of which, you said your cousin’s got a broken rib, right? Got it from trying to protect you from Naraku’s demons? See where I’m going with this? No way am I signing myself up for that bullshit.”

An icy sensation began creeping over Kagome as each word he spoke struck her in her most sensitive insecurities. Was this really what he thought of her? One second, he admired her strength, but now all of a sudden, she was too weak to even take care of herself?

“I - I saved you, too.” Was all she could say in that moment. She deserved her fair share of credit. Inuyasha didn’t get the right to be impressed only to malign her out of nowhere.

“Sure,” He shrugged his brows, unaffected. There was a small sneer within his tone, and she caught it loud and clear. “And, I had to turn around and pull you out of there before you got yourself caught and killed. In my opinion, that negates your effort.”

“Hey!”

“No, Kagome. You’d only end up slowing me down and holding me back. Worse, you might even get me killed. You’re hopeless. You don’t know what you’re doing. Why would I want to keep that around?”

Kagome could only flinch at his harsh statements, each sentence punching her, burning her, creating a heavy weight within her stomach that brought it to sink lower and lower.

“I’m not going to squander all of my crusades to protect you. I’m not going to waste my fucking time keeping you alive when you’re nothing but a magnet for trouble.” He didn’t believe a word he said. In fact, he’d never meant to go quite this far. All of it just tumbled from his mouth, meaningless, but he could see that it held plenty of meaning for the woman opposite him. No matter. He was in too deep, and there was no way she’d want to team up with him now. “Kagome, you left home how many days ago? Four? Five? It’s been less than a fucking week, and look where the fuck you are. I said I wouldn’t say anything rude last night, and I kept my promise, but it’s a new day. Want to know what I really think? You’re a fucking idiot. You can’t do anything right. Not on your own. You cant even protect yourself, so it’s not right of you to expect me to do it for you. If Kikyo won’t even take you, what makes you think I will?”

Just like that, he regretted everything. He’d gone too far with that one. He’d said way more than necessary. He should have stopped when he realized he was pushing it. He should have stopped prior to that. Kagome was crushed, he could see the pain in her eyes. There was no taking back something like that, though, and he couldn’t stand to look at her right now. So, Inuyasha spun around on his heel, once again looking out the window.

He’d just reaffirmed every negative thing she’d been thinking about herself. She thought she was a failure, and so did he. She thought she was helpless, and so did he. She thought she was ridiculous for thinking she could take on this large of a mission, and so did he. So did he. She thought they were friends, she thought they had a mutual respect for each other, but apparently he thought even less of her than she even did.

It was so incredibly hard to pick her head up in that moment. It was so difficult to tell herself that she could do what she’d come to do, that everything that had occurred was a series of unfortunate events that no one could have ever predicted, that she’ll get better with time and experience and practice, and when it came down to it, she’d be as fearsome as she once believed she was meant to be. She couldn’t do it. Not right now. Not when his words still swam in her mind, repeating themselves, solidifying her weaknesses and insecurities. Kagome felt worthless. She felt vile. She felt horrible and admonished.

The pain was thick, but the last thing she would ever do was allow Inuyasha the satisfaction of thinking he was right. Kagome wouldn’t let him to see her cry. Just beneath that sadness, that hurt, sat a bubbling layer of anger. How dare he? Who the hell did this guy think he was? No one gets to speak to her that way. It didn’t matter if they were right, it didn’t matter if they’d saved her life more than once, none of that was relevant. That did not give them the justification to speak down to her like she was nothing.

If he didn’t want to be partners, fine. A simple no would have sufficed, but fine. If he didn’t want to be friends, then good. Neither did she. Good riddance. If he didn’t like her, then that was his prerogative. She was still a person with feelings, a person with a good heart, a person who deserved at least an ounce of respect, so she’d do the right thing and be the one to respect herself. It was more beneficial than expecting the bare minimum from a guy as disagreeable as Inuyasha.

Kagome notched her chin upward, sucking in a heated breath as she turned around. There was no way in hell she was sitting through breakfast with Inuyasha, or even spending one more worthless moment in his presence. Her time would be better spent getting as far away from him as physically possible. The other side of the planet would do.

She found her bag and weapons in the corner, crouching before it all and reaching into the pouch. Her medical supplies were already stored away, everything was arranged, but she reached in and yanked out Inuyasha’s stupid, red robe, dropping it on the futon. Then she grabbed her little sack of money, pulling out a few coins that she felt was more than enough to cover her share. Kagome pulled the drawstring tight, strapped her bag over her shoulders, then her quiver of arrows, followed by her bow.

The remorse sat heavily on Inuyasha’s shoulders, within his abdomen. He hated everything he’d said, hated more so that he’d hurt her so easily. So quickly. She was feisty and quick to argue, so it shocked him when she could barely say anything in return. Kagome hardly attempted to contradict his false statements. Was there a chance she thought the same of herself? Was there a chance she was fighting herself over what she’d been through? No, it didn’t make sense. There was no way that was the case, because even he couldn’t convince himself that anything he’d claimed was true. She knew herself better than he did, so there was no way she’d succumb to believe a damn thing he’d just said. He’d probably just scraped her feelings a bit. Kagome seemed to be on the sensitive side.

It was wrong of him to jump to his decision so quickly, he knew that. Even worse was going down the irrational route he had out of anxiety. Truth was, mere seconds after saying all he had, he couldn’t find any actual harm in traveling together. If it was just because he wasn’t mentally prepared to rely on another, to think well of another, to potentially be any amount of vulnerable around another, then it really had nothing to do with her. Inuyasha should sit on it, think it through. He should consider the pros and cons and determine the right road to head down. Maybe even take things by trial. If they mesh well, if they can keep up with one another, then maybe it wouldn’t be so horrible.

He could hear her grabbing her things. Who would want to stick around after something like that? He could hardly blame her. No matter how much he wanted to stop her and tell her to calm down, he was in no position to do so. They needed space. He’d gone way over the line from the moment he’d opened his fucking mouth. Chances are, she wouldn’t get far. He could sniff her out easily; he’d gotten plenty used to her scent by now. She could go storm off all she wanted, get some fresh air, be as mad as she needed to be, and he’d catch up later to set things straight.

At the bang of her hand against the tabletop next to the bed, Inuyasha whipped his head around to look over his shoulder. Kagome pierced him with a dangerous glare, her fist atop the wood clenched tight until it opened to release a decent amount of money, the coins clinking as they hit one another. Her plush lips were pressed into a deadly frown, and her brows were deeply furrowed. Everything about her radiated a loathing rage, the hurt he’d gifted fuming passionately within her.

Before he could speak, even say her name, she beat him to the punch. Kagome was ready to leave, her cheeks a furious shade.

“Go fuck yourself.” She seethed, turning around and slamming the door on her way out.

Kagome wanted to be hasty in leaving Inuyasha’s energy behind, but she still needed to appear as composed as remotely possible for the time being. There were no doubt people in the pub below, Kaede included, and the last thing she wanted was to announce her upset for all to see. She didn’t like being an open book for just anybody to read, and it was no one else’s business. As much as she wanted to simply walk out and never look back, Kaede didn’t deserve that unwarranted treatment. Just before the sole of her boots hit the floor of the bottom step, Kagome took a deep breath, and with her slow, meditative exhale, she planted a smile on her face.

It was a good thing, too. As she stepped out of the hall into the entrance area, just beside the long counter that led to the barstools and dining room, she spotted Kaede scribbling notes into her guestbook. Kaede lifted her head, and as her good eye landed on Kagome, she greeted her with a smile, closing the book and setting down her pen to give her proper attention.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” The inn keeper asked.

“Never better. You’re amazing.” Kagome complimented, her grin widening as she approached the counter. “Next time I visit, I want to hear more about what you can do.”

“Oh, don’t say that. You’ll boost my ego too much, and then my head will be too big to fit through any doors.” Kaede laughed, waving her hand gingerly.

“It’s well-deserved, Kaede. Thank you so much.”

“Please don’t thank me anymore. You said enough thank you’s yesterday to last a lifetime, sweetie.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Kagome giggled.

“So, what’ll you have for breakfast?” Kaede inquired, raising her brows.

“Oh, nothing. I’m actually heading out. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“You’re leaving?” The inn keeper questioned, her expression falling slightly. In the momentary silence where Kagome only answered with a small nod of her head, Kaede looked back over toward the empty doorway that led to the inn portion of her building. “Where’s Inuyasha?”

“Still upstairs.” Kagome said. “He should be down soon, but either way, we’re parting. I already said my thanks, and he was a bit busy, so I figured I’d just get a head start instead of awkwardly waiting around.” She tried to keep her tone as casual as possible, giving herself mental reminders along the way to keep the pleasant smile on her face.

“Busy doing what?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t want to intrude. Seemed like he was studying his sword or something; I forgot its name. Anyway, I’ll be off.”

“And, you’ll be careful?”

“Of course. I’m heading home now.”

“Home?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t know why she’d said that. The lie came out of nowhere, but it was getting harder to remain nonchalant. Her heart was still throbbing, and she felt like Kaede had grown suspicious of something just because Inuyasha wasn’t by her side. There was no reason for that, but Kagome could feel the spike in disturbance. She needed to keep Kaede from asking if everything was alright, which she could tell was probably on the tip of her tongue, so Kagome hoped that her cheap excuse of going home would be enough to make Kaede think that Inuyasha didn’t need to be a part of this since they had no reason to be associated with one another from this point forward. “If I get going now, I should be back in my village by this evening.”

“That’s a pretty long journey for one day.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad.” Kagome shrugged.

“And, you’re sure you’re feeling alright? I can give you some medicine for the road; I’ve got plenty extra.” Kaede offered.

“Oh, no thank you. Believe me, I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I’m perfectly fine now.”

“Alright, I’m just a little worried about you pushing yourself right now.” She tilted her head, analyzing the girl before her. Something wasn’t lining up. Something was off, but it felt wrong to speak up about it. Maybe it was just her concern getting the better of her.

“You have nothing to worry about, Kaede. It’s nothing but a long walk. I’ll take breaks, I’ll stay hydrated, and I’ll get a long night’s rest the moment I get home. If it comes down to it, I’ll break it up into two days and camp out if I feel over exerted, but I don’t think that’ll be entirely necessary.”

“Alright, I trust you. Will you at least take some food for the road?”

“I’m not very hungry.”

“I know I phrased that as a question, but I really wasn’t asking.” The inn keeper smirked, tapping her fingernails on the countertop impatiently. “You’re taking some food with you. I’ll be right back.”

Without another word, Kaede headed around the bend into the kitchen. It was only a small moment later when she reappeared, and in her hands, she held two large, wrapped pastries with some sort of frosted coating on top.

“Cinnamon rolls for the cinnamon roll.” Kaede giggled. “That should be enough to snack on.”

“Thank you so much.” Kagome smiled.

“Turn around, I’ll put these in your bag for you.” She said, coming from behind the counter. She opened the pouch and dropped them on top of her things, pulling the bag shut and securing it tightly. “You be safe, Kagome. And, come back whenever you want. You’re always welcome here.”

“I will. I’ll definitely visit again. Next time, under better circumstances.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Kaede smiled, tapping the tip of her finger against Kagome’s nose. “Go on, get going. Be safe, sweetie.”

“Bye.” That time, it was a genuine grin, returning the friendliness that was kindly offered to her.

The outside air didn’t feel any better than the inside stuffiness. Kagome was hoping to be able to take an uplifting breath, but as soon as she didn’t have to upkeep a facade any longer, the crushing disappointment returned. Again, she felt the urgency to get as far away from Inuyasha as she possibly could, so she headed in the direction they’d initially entered the village in, her legs pumping at a very quick pace.

The forest was loud, lively, her thoughts even greater. Her mind was clouded with anger, noisy with resentment, her chest filled with a dense sludge and her abdomen tense as she stomped her way along the undesignated path. Even this far into the woods, this far away from the town, a couple of hours having passed, she was still weighted with everything Inuyasha had had the audacity to proclaim. The gall of that jerk.

All he had to say was, “no, thanks.” He could have even stuck with the, “Not interested” he began with, but no. The bastard had to keep going, and going, and going, and going. Kagome outwardly groaned, her cheeks growing hotter as her temper never calmed. Sure, she would have asked why. Who wouldn’t want to know why their business proposal was being rejected? That being said, she wouldn’t have guilted him, she wouldn’t have begged him, and she wouldn’t have obligated him in any manner to take her up on it. There was no reason, absolutely no reason, for Inuyasha to go off like that.

If that’s how he really felt, why did he waste so much energy being even obscurely kind to her? Kagome couldn’t even believe she’d thought so well of him. So highly. He didn’t deserve those nice thoughts she’d silently regarded him with last night, or the night before, or the night before that, and she wanted them all back. As if they were written on a board of some sort, Kagome wanted to vehemently erase all of her gracious opinions of him and write in big, bold letters over it all: I hate Inuyasha!

“You’re a long way from home, dearie.”

Kagome stopped abruptly, ice replacing the warmth she’d just recently been shrouded in. A demon stepped out in front of her, tan skin and scarred features immediately causing fear to passionately drive through each vein in her body. Even her breath halted in her throat, her lungs forgetting how to work in that moment as she stared into this man’s red eyes.

She hadn’t sensed him. Hadn’t felt any of the demons that now appeared around her, stepping out from behind trees with crooked smiles and pointed teeth. Now that she looked at them, their putrid auras tainted the atmosphere, and she realized she’d made the biggest mistake imaginable.

Kagome had allowed her emotions to overrule all other senses. She was distracted, painfully so, and she stumbled into a territory she should have known to avoid. She should have felt them coming, should have known they were around. She should have noticed their presence looming, she should have felt the danger around her, and she should have recognized exactly who they were before they appeared.

“What was your name again?” The demon asked.

She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to think, surprised and uneasy and unbelievably stiff. The demon stepped forward, his lips parting while he arched a brow in curiosity. Kagome shuddered, gasping, as she paced backward to create space, unable to look away from the leader of the henchmen who’d killed the young conjurer of her village.

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#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #Inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #Inuyasha fic #Inukag fanfiction #Inukag fanfic #Inukag fic #monster #heh.... sorry guys lol #akitokihojo

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feeling-weirdy · 4 years ago

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**my scarletvision master list**

A giant list of all the drabbles I have written in chronological order for anyone who would like to read from start to finish. If people are interested in becoming notified whenever I post something, please follow my AO3.

Please feel free to send in prompts for anything you would like to see added to this list.

Age of Ultron to Civil War

A Thing Isn’t Beautiful Because... - prompt; “right before or after Vision saves Wanda”; Overwhelmed with emotions, Wanda is filled with grief by the loss of her brother. Vision tries to help her figure out a way to deal with the loss.

Uncertain, yet Intentional - prompt; The moment before his ‘I did intend to come in here’ line in episode 8 of WV

Silent Tears - prompt; Wanda really lets herself cry for the first time since Pietro’s death and Vision does his best to comfort her.

Unpleasant Dreams - prompt; Wanda has a nightmare and Vision goes in to check on her to see if she’s alright.

Do Better - prompt; Vision is unable to save everyone in a disaster which helps him learn a very hard lesson.

Never Again - prompt; Wanda POV; Vision and Wanda watch sitcoms and Wanda gets distracted

Bugging Out - prompt; “Holy fucking guacamole!”; A routine update goes awry.

Vis, We Talked About This - prompt; “Viz, we talked about this”; Vision tries to distract Wanda without seeming too pushy.

Your Electrifying Touch - Wanda POV; Unable to keep her thoughts contained, Wanda slips up but has to find a way to keep herself back on track.

An Unexpected Surprise - prompt; Vision comes home from a tough mission to find Wanda curled up in his bed.

Practice Makes Perfect - prompt; Vision and Wanda practice in an attempt to help get Wanda’s powers under control.

Dancing Out of Tune - prompt; Vision walks in on Wanda listening to Pietro’s favorite genre and throws him off guard.

Striking Thirteen - prompt; a moment where feelings develop; Wanda can’t seem to fall asleep and looks to Vision for help.

Happy Birthday...? - prompt; Vision gets a present from Wanda for his first "birthday"

Neverending Flow - prompt; Wanda gets a nosebleed

While No One is Watching - prompt; The gang starts dancing, but disappears once uncomfortableness starts to set in once the android and witch start to get close to one another.

Heart Over Duty - prompt; What else makes Vision cry?

Overrated - prompt; “I always thought Mr Darcy was overrated”; Vision’s feelings can no longer be kept to himself. A novel Wanda suggests causes him to blurt out his confession.

Freezing Circuits - prompt; “Vision tries ice cream”

An Accidental Moment - prompt; pre CW; While watching television together, Wanda initiates the next step in their relationship.

Civil War to Infinity War

Safe and Sound - prompt; songfic for Safe and Sound; After the destruction in Lagos, Wanda breaks down, leaving Vision to console her the best that he can.

Distraction - prompt; Wanda POV; Wanda is overwhelmed by the Accords and is desperate for something else to focus on. Vision is happy to oblige.

A Step Too Far - prompt; Vision offers pizza and an explanation for his actions in trying to keep Wanda safe inside the compound.

After the Storm - prompt; Vision arrives to see Wanda for the first time after the aftermath.

The Little Green Monster - prompt; Vision becomes jealous of someone flirting with Wanda.

A Spark of Light - prompt; “we could be like sparks of light”; Vision attempts to talk Wanda into extending their little walks to something more substantial.

Can I Change Your Mind? - Vision is unable to tell Wanda goodbye and tries to get her to stay with him.

Three’s a Crowd - prompt; “love triangle between Vis, Wanda and Clint”

Chicken Soup for the Soul - prompt; Wanda gets sick and Vision helps take care of her

And Life Will Always Be... - Wanda POV; Excited to meet up with Vision again, Wanda enters the hotel room hoping to get a head start but finds her plans are pushed to an instant halt.

Between the Lines - prompt; “that was an innuendo, wasn’t it?”; Vision struggles to understand why Wanda is acting so strangely.

Look My Way - Wanda POV; Tired of spending the afternoon alone, Wanda takes things into her own hands.

Cappuccino or Latte - prompt; “what’s the actual difference between a cappuccino and a latte?”; Vision attempts to make coffee despite his disadvantages.

Short and Sweet - Vision can no longer keep himself back from kissing Wanda.

All to Myself - prompt; Vision jealous of Wanda and Cap America’s friendship; The distance they have created has finally brought Vision to a breaking point.

Getting Caught - prompt; Wanda and Vision get caught coming home late

Not Ostentatious, but True - prompt; “my love isn’t ostentatious, but it doesn’t make it any less true”; Vision becomes jealous of how others profess their love and he does his best to explain himself.

Purrfectly Happy - prompt; The first time Vision ever sees a cat

By the River - prompt; UK shenanigans; Vision uses an anniversary as an excuse to create a new memory with something they had never tried before.

That One Thing - prompt; Vision and Wanda discuss their future.

To Grow Old In, V - Vision worries about whether or not his next move is too grand, but is determined to move to the next step regardless.

One Last Moment - prompt; “one last moment”; Vision and Wanda talk about their options should Wakanda fail to disconnect the Mind Stone.

Wandavision sitcom AU

Love Me Tender - Vision tries to make a special night for Wanda, hoping to make up for the Mr. Hart fiasco.

Support - prompt; Vision offers his assistance as Wanda struggles with her pregnancy.

Cravings - prompt; Wanda’s weird pregnancy cravings; Vision struggles in the kitchen while trying to keep up with her cravings.

Perfectly Molded - Wanda POV; prompt; Vision wearing gray sweatpants. That’s pretty much it.

Back to Bed - A pregnant Wanda is sick and Vision struggles to take care of her.

Prenatal Upset - prompt; A pregnant Wanda doesn’t feel sexy and Vision is more than happy to prove otherwise.

Melting in the Rain - prompt; Wanda goes into labor and is cool as a cucumber leaving Vision to panic alone.

Nerves of Steel - prompt; Vision gets so caught up in himself that he phases through a piece of furniture and doesn’t even notice

Painting for Mom - prompt; sweet dad!Vision moment; The boys craft gifts for Mother’s Day.

Yellow Brick Road - prompt; Vision and Wanda help the boys go Trick-or-Treating

The End of the Road - prompt; part 2 to Yellow Brick Road

Movie Night: Titanic - prompt; the family watching Titanic

Peace and Quiet Shattered - prompt; The twins attempt to make a little robot and are having trouble until Vision steps in and fixes it with ease.

Halloween Spooks - prompt; Vision getting scared by Halloween animatronics

Unable to Compute - prompt; Tommy and Billy do something stupid and Vision has a hard time understanding why

post Wandavision

A World Without Color - A series of prompts following White!Vision as he learns more about who he was so that he can move forward.

post Infinity War AU

Make it Real - A series of one-shots, and possible story, following the traumatic events of Infinity War in an alternate universe where Wanda and Vision are alive and traumatized.

Random AUs

Bidding for Attention - Tony has a bachelor auction and Hope Van Dyne bids on Vision to upset her dad for fun and then Hope and Vision hit it off and keep hanging out which makes Wanda realize her feelings for him have changed.

Pt 1

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #rini master list #my organizational side won

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

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IV. Symbiosis

Summary: “Since you’ve been caught—” Fury squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries. Petty theft. Grand larceny. The damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.

“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”

A/N: 4.8k words. I’m a liar who lies because after 4 months of overthinking and coming up with diddly squat, here is part 4 of Trinity Epoch sans smut. I’m sorry! I’ll double your pleasure next time. xx Thank you for sticking with me, I’m so sorry it’s taken so long.

Warnings: Language. References to canon-typical violence.

Trinity Epoch Masterpost

Bucky stays like that a while longer, just breathing.

Your fingers trace his hair—running through the strands, over the shell of his ear, then resting briefly on his cheek. All the ways you used to with Natasha when she’d break her own heart, or maybe ways you would have liked her to have done for you when you felt like you were dying a little bit.

You feel it now: a small death in the wake of last night’s simple touches. Your body and Steve’s body curled around each other sprung something immeasurable, as if the drift flowered then and ripened beneath your skins. You bit into it. You savored its taste. You could have lived on it alone.

Everything smears together like a child’s careless hand in a mess of paints until all the brights muddle dark. A shaky breath as you work yourself into calming, trying to find coherent words while your head remains a pot of sideways soup, at best.

Bucky shifts until he’s looking up at you, nose millimeters away. His irises are just a touch more gray, a sprinkle less green. You can see Steve in him, just as he can see Steve in you and then your eyes begin to prickle, Nat’s face undulating behind the burn.

You don’t really know what you want to say. Maybe apologize, run, beg for forgiveness, grab Bucky by the shoulders and shake him until he understands that you didn’t mean it— you didn’t mean to hurt him. That you love him. That he lives inside you, too.

His ghost from the drift— the aftermath phenomena of the neural bridge when pilots take on a bit of each other’s consciousness out of the cockpit and into the world with them. Take two people with a predisposition for the drift into the cockpit into each other’s brains and they exit heightened—sharper, better—imbued with each other’s strengths and knowledge. Mind-meld long enough, deep enough, and your core endures, but you become a different beast.

When Steve’s consciousness bled into yours, so did Bucky’s. If you walked away with half of Rogers, you also got a quarter of Barnes and it only compounded worse during Polidori’s drop. Resurrecting trauma, agitating itself, making a mess of your weary soul.

You relived his amputation last night, just as fresh as you relived Nat’s death. More visceral than the first trial run, you witnessed him—felt him—torn and hoarse, clutching his shoulder as he rocked helplessly inside Orion’s chest, frayed wires sparking across his cheek and landing in his own blood. His teeth gnashing together as he tried to hold on for Steve’s sake, steering his co-pilot’s panic back on course. Terrified and agonized, but he was hellbent on making it out.

Bucky who made you laugh. Bucky who took you to dinner. Who walked with you, gave you his jacket, listened to your rambling and crying, and kissed you because you reminded him of his co-pilot, or maybe of himself.

How could you not love him, after all this?

Armageddon slows for nothing though, and before the first letter of his name can fall out recklessly from your mouth, three precise thumps jostles it back in.

Steve’s voice is muffled through heavy steel. “You in there?”

The door slides open with a tremulous croak but neither of you bother to separate. Nothing seems to matter now.

“Buck...” Steve looks from one raw face to the other, stepping forward and reaching out. He grasps Bucky’s hand. “We should talk—” he closes his mouth into a thin line, shoulders slumping heavily before letting go. “I’m sorry. Later. Shit’s hit the fan.”

The office is stagnant air full of questions but other than the squeak of the marshal leaning back in his chair, nobody makes a sound.

Fury untucks a finger from the crook of his elbow before pointing it between your eyes.

“Culpability.”

Across the room, you flinch in his crosshairs. Standing apart from them, you’re partially slack against one of many steel filing cabinets, using it to prop yourself up in case your knees might give out as vertigo descends.

It’s been a lot to take in. Everything— the night, the morning, emotionally, mentally, physically. The hull is a steel cage, and pilots are well armored, but you’re still hooked up to the robot enduring damage, taking hits at barely .0001 percent, but taking it all the same. You’re bruised up good beneath your clothes— Polidori’s claws leaving four tender imprints of a scratch to Orion’s right shoulder. Your shoulder. Steve’s shoulder.

To your right, he shifts. A tiny hint of pain streaks over his expression before it falls serene again, fixed on Fury.

“Since you’ve been caught—” the marshal squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries, petty theft, grand larceny, the damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.

“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”

This thing, being any story a 13-year old kid with two thumbs and a twitter account can spin between now and when you let Pepper Potts spin it for you first. There’s not a lot imagination can’t conjure to fill in the blank pixelated space between Bucky standing on the curb and you right behind him wearing his cap and jacket. Not to mention that once speculation goes live, it starts sprouting all sorts of appendages with minds of their own, and no matter how diligently you might cut one off, two would only sprout in its place.

The marshal stands up and takes heavy steps before turning the corner of his desk, absently tapping a pile of folders together like they’re not already in a perfect column. He slips a manila folder out from the stack and it becomes obvious that his suggestion is just buildup to some other type of impetus.

When you open the file up under his sharp gaze, you feel the blood drain from your face and possibly from your entire body.

The bullet he aimed between your eyes hits home. Cue your brains blowing out slow. Impetus met.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky appears over your shoulder, staring at the same grainy photocopied document. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I make a lot of jokes?” Fury leans forward, pointer curving over the top edge, tapping emphatically one, two, three times, even waving it back and forth in front of your unseeing eyes. “I’ve got a good contact inside the PPDC who risked a lot to get this out. They’re just plans for now, dogeared behind other pages, but don’t doubt the Corps’ cowardice for a second. The second this program looks like it might not hold up, they’ll turn their efforts there.”

You’re gone. Trapped between the lines, vehemently scanning the page, reading the same words over and over until they no longer make sense. But it’s not like they made any sense in the first place.

ANTI-KAIJU WALL: CONSTRUCTION AGENDA. SPRING 2020.

The conception of a perimeter stretching around the Pan Pacific—North and Central America, East and South Asia to isolate emerging Kaiju. It’s a fetal skeleton at most, the roughest of outlines for a plan, and truthfully, it’s no plan at all.

It’s shameful. It’s shit.

The so-called Wall of Life implies the portending death of the Program—of all Shatterdomes and Jaegers. It implies no support, no funding, and no repairs. No Kodiak. No juniors. No future.

Back and forth, you’re still desperately inspecting as if the words might shift into a new message, maybe one that didn’t spell out certain extinction, but despair is rippling across your face. Bi Fang and Polidori had wings, and they were only Category II. Bi Fang massacred one of the best pilots you’ve ever known—and it was only a Category II. Any higher and they’d blow through that wall like a ribbon of wet toilet paper.

Hysteria creeps up at the mere thought of it, fear stubbornly lodging itself in your throat. Nuclear-powered automata—the only proven defense against the terror of massive alien attacks are being dismantled in favor of steel rods and cinderblocks. They might as well build it out of Legos.

Anti-Kaiju Wall. A string of ants meeting a boot.

You’re panting softly, tongue swollen in your mouth, shaking with equal parts terror and rage, on the verge of breaking into inappropriate laughter and yelling.

“What—what do they expect?” You croak, “The breach opens, the fucking thing comes out, sees a fence, and what—they think it’s—going to crawl back in…?”

“Hey, calm down,” Bucky curls his fingers around your elbow. His hand and its black plates are peering at you, purring, dull gold bands threading at the knuckles. For a second, the prosthetic disappears. For a second, he’s blood red again.

“Hey!” Bucky grips tightly when you sway. “I’m fine! Don’t—don’t.” Steve’s jaw is set firmly on your other side, arms crossed so severely his biceps bulge with the strain.

“Nick,” He’s abruptly brusque as he eases the file from your grip. “Give us a minute.”

“You’re in my office.” But the marshal’s words hold no bite. He’s already won; he knows. Cornered again, he’s got you same as before in Red Cloud.

You get the gist: play out your redemption arc and come clean with your record. Win over the public, hoard all the additional support and funding you can because you’ll need every goddamn cent of it when the PPDC rips it away. The gossip. The photos. The headlines. It’s the perfect opportunity for a few hundred million when the media is putting a magnifying glass on your presence in Hong Kong.

Duty. Duty. Duty.

You’re just one small part of this colossal puzzle—a negligible smear of guts across the battlefield trying to keep the rest of the pieces together while the PPDC sits in their panic rooms throttling the entire fucking thing.

Fury steps to the cabinet and slides the file back in its place, keeping the illusion of it being just another unremarkable envelope in a row of hundreds of others. The metal drawer shuts with a clang, housing the most damning piece of information you’ve ever seen. His tact aside, you know he would never show you his hand like this if it wasn’t completely necessary—or pertinent.

Steve was right, you understand now.

The world owes you. And it owns you.

The next six—seven?—hours scatter like pulled teeth with your head spinning like a top the entire way. Pepper had been outside the door for the conversation, waiting on standby to whisk you off for princess lessons. Having already (and correctly) predicted your compliance, Fury scheduled an interview for precisely at nine. Then you were off, towed along by Miss Potts and her hasty strut.

You try to find perspective, reminding yourself that you’ve successfully gone toe-to-toe with the Empire State Building with fifteen rows of teeth seven fucking times and come out on the other side alive and if not in one whole piece, then at least 2-3 relatively serviceable pieces. You’re functional. A little damaged, but fine enough. But there’s also the fact that you’d just hopped out of Orion not even 24 hours ago coupled with how you’re suddenly in the middle of something that feels less like a confused love triangle and more like divine providence at the end of the world.

Fuck. No time to think about it now. The human brain is not programmed to multitask, and you’re hanging on by a mere thread. You prioritize making it through the night just as alive as you can make it out of a drop. Just a couple of hours and you can rest. Just a couple more.

After what felt like an eternity and a half of simulating Q&A, practicing your posture, smiling into a mirror, and one horrible limo ride where you stared dead-eyed out the window—Steve and Bucky’s steely gazes after you—the building finally comes into view.

Hair. Makeup. Wardrobe. You wear pants. You smile for the camera. You don’t stand in the middle of the group photo.

8:55 and time halts to a near stop. You can hear your heart in your throat, or in your skull. Your eyes feel switched from their sockets, or stomach rotated 30 degrees. Someone fixes your mic wire, your blouse collar, asking you to turn just a little over there. Three cameras are pointed to capture every angle, punitive red dots angry and glaring.

A live broadcast was agreed upon to ensure the least amount of potential edits and skews, as well as the charmingly quaint idea that it’s unscripted. The rub, therein, lies upon the burden of poise and a flawless performance. You rehearsed lines until your jaw felt like it was coming unhinged. Then you did it again.

Everything requires precision, and you keep that in mind with your hand on the glass of Dom Perignon being constantly refilled. An amicable gesture by the hosts, but their intentions are cunning: loose lips sink ships, and they’re betting on yours to sink the S.S. Orion Bravo.

Out of view, the translator sits with her legs crossed, listening to the questions before turning the words over in English.

You take a sip of champagne and it fires off like a gunshot—Cantonese and English in rapid-fire verses.

<2017 was a fateful year for both the Jaeger Program and the world. Beloved pilot Natasha Romanoff sacrificed her life to protect Alaska’s coast in a final battle against Category 2 Bi Fang. Memorials dedicated to Romanoff’s efforts appeared across every nation to lament her death and celebrate her heroism. Yet, somehow, no one seemed to be asking the million-dollar question: Where is her co-pilot?>

The host’s open hand urges your reply.

The lights seem to turn up even brighter. Your back starts sweating. The room is about to collapse. In short, naturally—infuriatingly—you choke.

Seven hours of droning like a broken wind up toy, already knowing how to answer this question by heart, prepping yourself for the interrogation, the relentless demand to publicize your grief, to placate the people about your relationship with their heroes—and, you choke.

Bucky’s chin tilts microscopically in the corner of your line of vision. You’re fine, he’s saying, you got it. He’s strangely calm, even pleased, as you stutter involuntarily. Like he’s the first to remember an inside joke you’d long forgotten, his grin widens the longer you look at him. Steve turns next. Focus. Don’t fight the drift. The drift is silence.

And suddenly, your shoulders ease. The static in your exhausted brain slides out of your ears.

You sit up tall. You smile. It doesn’t quite feel like your smile, but, it’s a good one. You know this smile; it’s Steve’s smile. Like a seamless assembly, you fall into rhythm.

The white of his teeth slip out from between Steve’s lips. He notices too.

You calmly recite the introductory speech you’d been practicing for the last two hours, feeling out your new voice, borrowing from his bearing—deeper, smoother, certain. The major points get run through: your record and own personality traits keeping you from the spotlight, admitting genuinely that you’re pretty damn uncomfortable now, so they’ll have to forgive you for any slip ups. It goes over well, as Pepper predicted; “candid” blunders made Rangers human—made them likable.

When the subject of Anchorage rolls back around, you can practically feel Steve’s jaw bulging preemptively. You graze his foot with yours as a warning to back off.

<It’s remarkable that you were able to bring the Jaeger back to shore, there has been only one pilot who was capable of that—>

“I’m thankful to have had Stacker Pentecost as my mentor. I owe so much of my resilience to him. It was difficult, but simply put, I had no other choice. I feel so lucky to have survived it.”

“She was one of a kind.”

“Yes.”

The host clears his throat, visibly awkward that you’re being so terse, but taking the hint until Bucky turns into the spotlight, that divorced happiness he’s so skilled at beaming into the lenses.

Steve easily picks it up, steering the conversation where he wants it to go. He’s disarmingly sincere as he relays the process of Bucky’s injury, replacement, apprehension, and finally success

His bright blue eyes flicker secret messages and you decipher them all.

“The connection was like—"

There’s a bell chiming in your ears. Bright, crisp chirps of it, cutting through laughter and bickering. You taste summer air in your throat, Bucky’s hair flying in the wind. “Riding a bike…”

“Exactly. New bike, same motions, and it worked. It was great. We learned things about each other. Some good, some bad—”

Crosshatched pencil lines of their shared apartment. Smudges of charcoal in a sketchbook. “He’s an unbelievable artist, but—”

“No— don’t say it!”

Bucky smothering a small kitchen fire. Steve throwing a damp rag on him in a frantic attempt to assist. Your voice is bubbling out gleefully. “—an awful cook!”

“It’s true,” Bucky smugly chimes in. “The boy can’t boil water. Breakfast eggs come with shells every time.” You can taste the grit between your molars—crushed grains inside an overdone omelet, Bucky spitting out spinach and feta cheese.

“Oh my god,” you sputter into a sip of champagne. “It’s so bad.”

“Do you see what I have to deal with? Two people knowing my secrets. Two.”

<Fantastic! Already we can see a great friendship here—>

It seems congratulatory, but there’s determination to drive into scandalous territory, poking at any rumor to lance and leak. A sly smile crosses his face as his assistant shows photos of you and Bucky in the city, but the lurid suggestion only gets shrugged off. “We’d gone out for dinner. It was the first time I’d left the Shatterdome after Seigehook and I needed moral support.”

“I’d give you my jacket if you looked cold.”

<Steve, Ophelia isn’t concerned that your new co-pilot is a woman?>

“No, absolutely not. ‘Lia’s the first person to support Orion—and the loudest. I don’t know what I’d do without her. You don’t have her behind the curtain, too, do you?”

<Well, what about personal memories? Won’t you know everything about each other…? Private things?>

“Sure, but what pair of pilots don’t? You got twins and siblings, not just married couples. Look, here’s the thing: the neural bridge doesn’t take you to a filing cabinet. It’s not open like that. It’s more like—somebody help me—” Bucky snaps his fingers your way, “—what’d you call it the other day?”

You didn’t, but you say, “A dream?”

“Right, a dream. If you think about it, you can pull on it, but if it’s not in the forefront of your mind. It’s a non-issue.”

“We’re all adults here,” Steve confirms.

Steve’s palm faces outward as if keeping the host at bay— or, you think, keeping himself at bay. “Hold on. This isn’t about replacement. Nobody is framing it like a nail in the coffin—we’re in the interim of a period of time, readjusting. Short of death, nothing is going to take him away.”

Sunlight. Recruitment. Ice baths. Training until they had to carry each other to bed. Your eyes flutter, head pilfering through the memories like instinct.

“James is still Orion’s co-pilot.” You agree. Apprehension. Dread. Terror. Confidence in each other even when they didn’t believe in themselves. They were together. Nothing else mattered. “Steve’s co-pilot.”

The tight look on his face is temporarily wiped as he beams proudly, “He’s my Bucky. Always has been, always will be.” He claps Bucky on the back twice and each thump’s echo bounces its way into your chest.

Bucky bristles and sputters, but a healthy pink dusts its way across his cheeks, “Don’t embarrass me, Rogers.”

“Are you blushing?” You tease, elated.

“Don’t you start, either.”

<Well… this is very wonderful. Is there a possibility we’ll be seeing a triple-piloted machine? The Tang triplets have been in talks for a new model.>

Steve shakes his head. “We haven’t discussed it yet. Nothing’s off the table, by any means. Just not priority at the moment.”

“Normalcy, as much as we can get in the middle of all this.” Bucky holds out his hand, closing it into a fist, letting the camera zoom in. “We’re… still working through all the kinks, balancing the personal and global.”

He flexes his fingers, letting the microphones pick up the drone of machinery, but his meaning is another secret. Clicking Morse codes of well-oiled obsidian plates purring two names. You’ve stopped listening to everything but the echo incandescent in your heart.

You down your glass.

Champagne tipsy, you try not to stagger through the lobby. The doorman nods toward the limousine parked faithfully by the curb.

The barrage of questions slowed after it became apparent that there would be no sensationalist headline. There was attention to Bucky’s arm, his handsome face, of course, before the banter quickly devolved into entertaining frivolous sidebar queries. Five flutes bubbled down your throat and by the end of it, you no longer wanted to grab camera one and shake the shit out of it, anger whittled down to a dull hum of annoyance.

Thirty million stupid dollars for inane reels of:

What’s in your purse? What do you eat? How do you stay feminine in a Shatterdome full of testosterone—have you tried any K-beauty skincare routines? Do you have anyone special in your life?

Bucky went in, then, leaning forward until he was nearly rocking off and leveled his glare. You know she’s on the other side of the same robot, buckled up into a ninety-pound rig steering two-hundred tons of—

It took a miracle (see: Steve’s firm hand discreetly on the back of Bucky’s neck and Pepper drawing a sharp line across her throat) to effectively halt the derailing train.

“I can’t believe,” Bucky grouses now, opening the door and waving the driver back to the front. “Those goddamn questions.”

“Does wiping my sweaty face with my even sweatier shirt count as skincare? What’s the K stand for?”

Bucky smacks the back of your head with one hand, other clumsily yanking the door open with the other. “For Korean—have you been living under a rock? Just—get in the fuckin’ car.”

You slap him back. “Quit it, you invalid.”

“Invalid? I’ll show you a fuckin’—Steve, did you hear—”

“Both of you, get in the car.”

And you shriek, scrambling in and yanking Bucky along by the scruff of his jacket. Mischief courses beneath your skin, encouraged by clever alcohol, now fully buzzed its way to every extremity.

Still giggling and leaning into the thrill of it, you slump over the smooth plastic molding of the door and press your face against the tinted window. It’s a cool reprieve on your warmed cheek, frosting when your temperature meet the glass. Bucky’s easy Cantonese, albeit slurred, is requesting a ride back to base. His hand has found its way into yours, fingers laced large and warm, clasping tight before he lets go.

“Haven’t had a drink—oh--” you murmur, catching yourself as the wheels shift.

“Since Red Cloud.”

“Outta my head, Rogers.”

“Says the person who kept finishing my sentences during that interview.”

“It’s the champagne! It makes me—“

“Stupid?”

“You’re an ass, Barnes.” But you’re laughing at him, at the way he’s smirking— cheeks gone ruddy. Both of them, open beside each other, heads inclined intuitively together. It makes you ache to see—to experience again after disruption—Rogers and Barnes. Barnes and Rogers. Perfectly fitted.

The partition slides up. The sunroof tugs open with a whistling draft.

Hong Kong’s lights are vivid—too much to properly see the extent of space’s beauty, but there are a few twinkles you’re able to make out in the moonless night as light poles and skyscraper tips whiz overhead. They’re brighter than most, simple to spot patterns in the dark.

“Orion’s out tonight,” you mutter, moving to catch the line of its belt, “Look. Beneath his feet is Lepus, the hare, pursued for all time.” From across, Steve follows, also looking to find their hero as your hair rustles wildly, making a hurricane against your ear.

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” Bucky scolds. He’s annoyed and comfortable on leather, ankle crossed over opposite knee. “You’re not being chased by anything. Besides, if you were a constellation, you’d probably be the soup ladle.”

You laugh. He’s always playing the part of a stoic so well. “Hey, I’ll have you know the Little Dipper’s got the north star in it. That soup ladle’s gonna be the thing that gets you home when you’re lost.”

The tone shifts—time dragging its pace as you look at them in wonder. The city’s overripe heaviness of the blows through, making goosebumps on heated skin.

“Buck,” Steve says, and Bucky slips his jacket from his shoulders to slide over yours. He tugs the lapels down like he’s trying to keep you on earth and your hands clasp on his wrists for a second before you let go. They’re both sitting up now, watching your bleary gaze unfocus.

Steve and Bucky oscillate in front of your eyes, their lines blurring until it doesn’t really matter who you’re looking at—until they become one. So easy, like this, just them like two sides of the same coin, belonging so seamlessly to each other.

“Sorry,” you blurt in shame, “I feel like I fucked it up. Ruined a thing that wasn’t mine to ruin.”

“Think you put it together,” Steve responds quietly, and the simplicity of his statement throws you off. “We found our way.”

“Soup ladle,” Bucky jokes.

“But, aren’t we just trading one war for another? World peace only made it because of monsters.” Unspoken questions hidden inside large-scale metaphors— symbiosis could only be achieved under the lies of other relationships. Whatever this would be, it wouldn’t be accepted. Steve still retains his supermodel girlfriend and you and Bucky dutifully fall in line for your own packaged little PR lies.

He shrugs. “I’m fine with losing a few battles in this war, but Orion’s got a good track record, doesn’t it, Buck?”

“Twelve— thirteen kills, sweetheart.” Bucky’s grin is lopsided. “Don’t forget you made that happen.”

“Thirteen’s an unlucky number.”

“Feels lucky to me.” Steve’s hand wraps around your wrist, thumb resting on your pulse. He taps your skin, looking genuinely apologetic. “Listen, all I can do is ask— and I’m not good at asking for things. I just want to make them happen.” A quick glance at the watch under his cuffs and he tugs at your arm like a lost child, “So, before we get back… will you come here?”

As he said, he’s not really asking. More like reaching his will out to you, finding you when you’re caught in the undertow and pulling you back to safety. To them. Okay. Okay.

Your footing slips, but they take your hands and turn you carefully, letting you settle in between. Bucky hums a low sound, fingers curling around your waist. Steve does the same to the opposite side and you feel both torn apart and held together by them.

Steve nuzzles your neck, hot on your skin.

“She was wrong,” he whispers, barely audible over the sound of your rising breath, “You know that? She was wrong, and I was wrong. I thought it couldn’t happen—thought I had other priorities, other things to manage and settle and save and... I lost sight of what matters most. But I’m gonna really fix it this time—I’m gonna do it right by you.”

He looks to Bucky, pained and relieved, “Both of you, I promise.” He takes Bucky’s hand in his own and holds it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, his palm, saying softly, “I love you, Buck. I’m sorry you waited so long.”

“Hey stupid,” Bucky says shakily when your chin starts to quiver at the sight of them. He’s sniffling and swallowing his syllables, unable to stop himself from staring at Steve’s face in his hand, how Steve kisses the blue pulse in his wrist. “Ain’t you—too pretty to cry?”

The rocking of the car flattens out as Steve gently presses his lips to yours, letting the trail of salt bursting down your cheek into his mouth. He moves to the line of your jaw, promising,

It’s okay. I got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you anymore.

They kiss you and the world turns itself right.

They kiss you and then they kiss each other. Again and again and again.

#marvel #stucky #stucky x reader #pacific rim au #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #fanfiction #reader insert #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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