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barnesandco · 3 years

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Little Hands (IV)

Series Masterlist

Communication is key.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 2248. Square filled: “Sung to Sleep”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Hydra Evilness, More Sad Child, Parental Anxieties. Brief mentions of war, sickness, death, grief.

A/N: I know 2.2k words isn’t objectively a lot but boy did this feel like it. I hope every word is worth it and that you enjoy! Lmk what you think!!! Also I won’t even lie, the idea of Steve’s kids is 100% from one of my favorite comfort fics, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, by the genius, the wonderful cosmicocean. IT’S SO SOFT. Pls read it.

You’re stunned when Bucky tells you what’s going on. The idea that his daughter (?) was made in a lab like some kind of experiment, and that the man who led said experiment now wants her back like she is his property, his weapon, is too horrid to consider for very long. Weaponizing an innocent child. Hydra.

Bucky gave you the broad strokes of the investigation – currently running on little more than educated guesses based on the meagre intel they have – and has let you know that he has had to recuse himself from the case, due to his… personal connection. That leaves him somewhere he finds awkward, to say the least.

It's evident in the way the corners of his lips turn down, how he is constantly rubbing the pads of his fingers against the coarse scratch of denim, while he watches Ana watch Zoya, Steve’s 17-year-old daughter, working on a tablet. Zoya tucks a strand of hair behind her hijab, then continues to draw up a storyboard, narrating the events to the younger girl. Steve had apparently forgotten the lunch his kids had made him at home, so Zoya had brought it in, and decided to stay the day.

Ana’s quiet, attentive for the most part, listening with her full capabilities, but her eyes flit away from the screen every now and then to look at you and Bucky, as if to reassure herself that you’re still there.

Besides that, there aren’t all that many distractions present for an already precocious child. Most of the team has dispersed for the investigation, with the exception of Peter, who is sat at a table in the corner making intentionally fruitless efforts at teaching Morgan chess, while she giggles and tries to stack the pieces like Jenga blocks instead.

However, Bucky’s restlessness is infectious, and you think he needs to get it under check before it grows any further. That’s why you stand, saying, “Could we go for a little walk, Bucky?”

He nods, man of few words that he is, and leads the way. You’re sure he knows that you formulated it like a request for his benefit, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s just as well – that he knows you like that, and knows when to accept the proverbial hand being offered.

Bucky takes you to a corner of the roof that you’d mistake for a community garden if you didn’t know any better. The Avengers seem to have green thumbs, or at least, a significant portion of them do. They’re good with plants, and possessive about them, too. Autumn ferns grow outside the circle they seem to have been planted in – with a sign shouting Wanda! – to invade the territory of a vegetable garden labelled Bruce (accompanied by a Hulkish, green thumbs up presumably not drawn by the man himself).

Meticulously maintained daylilies and columbines, in vivid reds and vibrant purples, litter the edges of the path that has been carved through this little paradise, and the birdhouses between them stake the claim of the owner more effectively than a neon sign screaming Sam Wilson. Bucky’s told you about his abilities, how they veer into the decidedly supernatural but Sam insists are only the residue of a childhood with homing pigeons.

Nothing here looks like Bucky’s, though. He seems to be taking it in, perhaps thinking about his own little paradise back in the city, and how he’s chosen to keep it distant from that of his teammates. That worries you. He worries you.

And this, the situation with Anastasia, becoming a father, it’s terrifying. Hell, if it scares you this much, how is he feeling? You ask him as much.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

He laughs, softly, disbelievingly, no malice in his scoff, only fear. Only the sound of a voice saturated with consternation and total, complete anxiety. “Would you be?” He asks back.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Bucky evades the questions, turning first one way on the path, and then the other, approaching the edge clear of shrubbery and blooms alike, resting his palms on the top of the wall.

“I can’t be a father.”

The solemnity in his tone allows no room for negotiations, but then, neither do the facts. “You are,” you reply, somewhat hesitantly, because the technicalities of how Ana came to be are still a little blurry to you. She’s far from a normal child, and not quite a clone, either. She is of Bucky, though. His, in any way that counts.

“That little girl was created in a Hydra lab as a super soldier to serve the cause,” he says, shaking his head vigorously as the cause repulses him even more than it does you. “And who knows what else she was put through before SHIELD fell and Orlov got her out, and it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t—”

“I didn’t ask for it to happen but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t happened. They used me to make a super soldier from scratch, and now I’m supposed to raise her? It’s not that simple. I’m not Steve. I can’t…”

Being honest, you feel you’re pretty far out of your depth here. But you’ve promised him your help, and you’ll do your best.

“You don’t have to. There are other options.” You’re sure you’re overstepping. Perhaps this gentle companionship has not yet reached the point where you can give advice on parenting. But if you don’t, who will? Steve, whose answers don’t enter the gray territory Bucky’s mind is residing in right now, who parents like he was born for it?

Steve chose fatherhood. Bucky has been nailed to it like it’s a new cross to bear, heavier than all the previous ones put together.

His gaze roams the grounds that stretch as far as you can see. You’re both far away from home right now, far outside your comfort zones.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess, sweetheart. It’s not right. You have things to do, and I shouldn’t have—”

“Bucky, I’ve been staring at the same four sentences of dialogue for the past month. I literally could not have been happier to get out of the house. Even if I do wish it was under better circumstances,” you say fervently. You’re here because he needs you. Because Ana needs you. It’s nice to be needed.

“That’s one way to put it,” he smiles, and you’re glad to see it.

“Not to mention, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault except whoever your team is looking for,” you insist. “And Ana’s a sweet girl. A little quiet, but Baba says I was, too.”

This, Bucky thinks about. You wonder if he was a quiet child, too. “What’s he like?”

“Hmm?” The reverie snaps like a rubber band.

“Your father?” Bucky asks, shyly, his eyes meeting yours, letting you know exactly why he’s asking.

You look up at the clouds, think back to Boston, to time shared between the library and the park. A childhood with books, lunch breaks under a desk in an office at MIT, stealing his glasses and running away with them, rubbing at his stubbly beard like he was a housecat. Inside jokes with your father and rolled eyes with your mother. Laughter and tears, laughter with tears.

After a long while, trying and failing to summarize your father, you say, “A jokester. The most sarcastic person I know. But still kind of neurotic, to be honest. The kind of parent that makes you show up at the airport a full four hours before your flight.” It’s grossly insufficient. For a writer, you’re not very good with words. You suppose it’s not the words that are the problem; it’s the lifetime they have to encompass. “What about yours?”

Bucky sighs. “Soldier. He’s one thing I don’t feel bad for not remembering because it wasn’t Hydra that wiped those memories. He just died when I was really small. Survived the Great War only to be killed by TB a few years later at home.”

“I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. Grief feels private, even decades later, even in the smallest doses.

He shakes his head, smiles fondly, up at the sky, too, like you did. Only, he’s smiling at it, like he’s thinking of someone beyond the clouds. “Don’t be. Was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed to hurt anymore.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“I sound like my therapist.”

At this, the two of you look at each other and burst into laughter. It feels forbidden, as though the severity of the situation condemns joy. That isn’t fair, you think. The situation is that of a child, and nobody needs laughter more than kids do. Food for the soul.

When the echo of your exhilarations falls, Bucky grows serious once more. “They have them for kids, now, too, right?” He asks, referring to therapists. “Do you think Anastasia should see one? She’s not exactly… normal, you know?”

“Maybe.” It’s a difficult question, but a good indicator of how Bucky is growing to feel about Ana. “You’d make a good dad, if you wanted to be one, Bucky,” you say, and mean it. It’s plain as day that he cares about her.

“I can’t even remember my own.”

“Parental instincts are intuitive, not genetic,” you tell him.

“You been reading handbooks?” He teases.

“You’d be surprised by how much you learn from the rabbit holes you fall down while researching books,” you deadpan.

“Can any of that research get the nightmares out of my head? I think it might scare a kid.”

The self-deprecation hurts, but your response is honest, heartfelt. “She likes you already.”

“She won’t if she thinks I’ve run away,” he answers, straightening up. He might be trying to evade the conversation, but you’ll let him, for now. He’s gotten some fresh air, had some time to clear his thoughts, or sort them, at least. And so you return, to the little girl who has a tighter grip on both of you than you even realize.

------

Ana grows unsettled as night darkens the sky. It could be the ruckus she isn’t quite used to. It could be the toy fire truck Tony has been altering with his utensils to increase its noise output, much to Morgan’s amusement. It could be the actual parrot perched on Sam’s shoulder.

Whatever the cause, she hasn’t succumbed to it enough to make a seat out of the fridge again. She’s sitting in her seat, between Bucky and yourself, eating the hummus Bruce and Wanda have made. Nat discusses sniper scopes with Clint, Peter tries to get away with eating the side of vegetables on Jordan’s plate without Steve noticing, and Bucky eats silently, eyes almost constantly on Anastasia, who takes it all in while her knee bounces up and down with an ever-increasing speed, much like her father’s.

You excuse yourselves soon after dessert, after Morgan has fallen asleep against Jordan’s arm on the couch, and Steve and Tony’s friendly debate is starting to develop the edge it tends to when they’ve been bantering for too long.

Bucky sets up on the sectional in his room, and leaves the ridiculously large double bed to you and Anastasia. It’s been a strange, strange day, and one can only hope that tomorrow brings some ease, a balm for the prickly, fiery ache that has settled over the man you care so much about.

------

When you wake, it’s because of singing. For half a moment, you think you’re in a dream, but as your eyes adjust to the blanket of dark, you see the shadow on the sofa nearby. Only, it’s bigger than just Bucky. Anastasia is sitting on his lap, her head cushioned against his chest. Scrambling for your glasses, and turning on the lamp on the bedside table, you notice that there are trails of drying tears on her little cheeks, and she’s still shaking with the aftershocks of whatever scare she must’ve had during the night.

Not for the first time, you curse your deep sleep that meant you didn’t wake with Ana, but watch in wonder as Bucky sings.

Hush, little baby, don't say a word Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring

Ana’s eyes begin to close, but she fights the sleep. Bucky doesn’t let her. He lies down, easing her down beside himself, singing all the while.

And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa's going to buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's going to buy you a billy goat

His voice fills the room, low though it may be, and he curls himself around Ana.

And if that billy goat won't pull Papa's going to buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's going to buy you a dog named Rover

She succumbs to the lull of his tone, his song, his promises, sighs a little sigh, lets the last, little hiccup leave her body.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart

And if that horse and cart fall down You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Bucky lifts his hand from where it was stroking the hair at her temple, and lays his arm over his daughter. They’re safe, for now. Together.

#SSB2021 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #dad!bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #marvel fanfic

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lunatens · 4 years

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felix felicis (iii)

word count: 3.0k

part iii/iv

genre: fluff, harry potter au

pairing: hufflepuff!felix x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: it’s been uhhhhhhhhhhhhh over a year since i last update this whoOPS i am so sorry to keep you all waiting. thank you to everyone who patiently waited, and to everyone who’s new, i hope you like it!! there will be one more part to this series (that i will try my best to write in less than a year lol) (also for obvious reasons w**jin will no longer be a part of this fic)

the day of the gryffindor vs ravenclaw quidditch match has your stomach in knots, not about the game itself (you really couldn’t care less about the results) but about the boy you’re going to be spending the next couple hours with.

“okay y/n, first things first: that tiny ball is the golden snitch, and-”

“felix, i’m not stupid,”

“right, yeah, sorry i’m just uhh..excited is all,’ he says shyly. you watch as the two teams whizz around the pitch, trying to keep track of all the different balls and players as felix rambles on about the rules to you. despite chan, changbin and jisung being your closest friends, you’ve never actually come out to watch them play before, always finding an excuse to stay indoors instead of sitting miserable and alone on an uncomfortable bench in typically less-than-pleasant weather.

“wow y/n, your friends are actually really, really good quidditch players.” felix comments with a look of mild surprise. “too bad they’re not hufflepuffs!”

“actually, at your last game they were telling me they wish you were in gryffindor, so i guess you’re not too bad yourself,” you comment with a small smile, and you have to stifle a laugh as felix’s face turns bright red. you hate to admit it, but felix is really, really cute--especially bundled up in his yellow hat and scarf, his hair sticking out and gently waving in the breeze whenever someone flies by on broomstick.

you watch the game in silence for a moment, still trying to find the appeal for the sport. the game’s been going for a while now, with neither team having found the snitch yet, although gryffindor’s leading in points. jisung zooms around the far end of the pitch, expertly evading the ravenclaw beaters’ attacks and catching the quaffle with a flourish. it doesn’t take long before he’s put the quaffle through one of the ravenclaw goalposts, and the gryffindor crowd roars in excitement. jisung does a lap of the pitch, posing ridiculously and waving to the crowd to get them even more riled up. you hear felix squeal in excitement beside you, and turn to look at him with curiosity.

“that’s just the best feeling ever, flying through the air and just having fun like that. it’s so freeing,” he says with a contented sigh. you furrow your brows and turn back to look at jisung, who’s now rejoined his team as the game continues.

“really? i mean, it doesn’t seem that great. it looks so cold and windy, and what if you fall? yeah, no thanks i’d rather stick to the ground,” you state. it’s not like you want to offend felix or anything, but you just really don’t get the hype about flying.

“what?? you don’t like flying y/n?? but it’s so epic!” felix says in disbelief, and you shake your head in response.

“the only time i’ve ever ridden a broomstick is way back in first year, when we had to learn the basics, and i’ve got no interest in trying again.”

“i’ve never met someone so opposed to flying,”

“well, that’s what happens when you fall off and break your wrist and can’t take proper notes for weeks,” you say, wrinkling your nose at the memory. “see unlike you, i’m not gifted with good luck.”

felix looks at you blankly for a moment, thinking to himself, before a wide grin creeps onto his face.

“no.”

“i haven’t even said anything yet!!”

“ok but i know what you’re thinking and i am NOT riding a broomstick, felix!”

“oh come on y/n, live a little!! it’ll be so much fun! what, are you afraid of heights?” felix asks teasingly. you shoot him a glare in response.

“yes!! besides, i don’t even own a broomstick.”

“yeah i kinda figured, so we can just use mine! i’m sure we’ll both fit, it might be a bit squishy though…” felix trails off in his own thoughts, and you choke on your own spit. you turn to look at the pitch, trying to focus on the game rather than thoughts of being pressed up against felix and holding onto him for dear life, breathing in the scent of h-

“eh, i think it’ll work fine. so it’s settled, after the game i’m taking you for a ride.” felix says definitively, interrupting your thoughts (good timing too, your brain was entering dangerous territory).

“i dunno, felix…. it really doesn’t sound safe, i mean two people on a broomstick? i don’t care how lucky you are, i’m not taking any chances.”

“y/n, i promise nothing bad will happen. we won’t even go that high, and we can take it slow. trust me, it’ll be okay,” felix says, tentatively placing a hand over yours and looking into your eyes. you’re silent for a moment; has felix ever been this sincere in his life? you let out a sigh of defeat.

“i better not regret this.” you mumble, and felix squeals in excitement. your heart flutters a bit when he grabs onto your upper arm enthusiastically

“you won’t, y/n!! it’ll be so much fun, i can’t wait. it’s gonna change your life for the better,” felix says confidently, and although you roll your eyes at him, you can’t help but smile giddily to yourself.

***

the game ends in an overwhelming victory for gryffindor, and you and felix dodge red and gold banners and streamers on your way out of the pitch past ecstatic gryffindors and gloomy ravenclaws. you finally make it out, your stomach filling with dread as you remember what’s happening now.

“i’ll be right back y/n, i’m just gonna go grab my broomstick from the locker room!” felix says excitedly, before rushing off into the depths of the pitch structure. you stand awkwardly by yourself, shoving your hands into your pockets for warmth. your breath escapes your lips in visibles plumes, the air growing colder as the sun begins to sink lower into the sky. one of your professors walks by, reminding you to return to the castle, and you nod, telling them you’re just waiting for a friend. it’s not a complete lie, right? you think to yourself. the adrenaline from not only your upcoming flight, but also breaking the rules again (and for felix, of all people) fills your body with jitters.

as you wait for felix for what seems like forever, your mind starts to wander. watching the game with him today was...surprisingly fun? and my goodness, the way his eyes sparkled or his voice got squeaky when someone made an awesome play was maybe the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. not to mention his freckled cheeks, rosy from the biting cold, or his tiny hands that flailed excitedly when talking about strategies. was chan right after all? do you have feelings for felix? no, that’s absurd. you’re just excited to have made a new friend is all...haha...right?

you don’t get the chance to think more about it before someone pounces on you from behind.

“Y/N!!! YOU CAME!!!!” jisung’s loud voice rings in your ear.

“ew get off me, you’re all sweaty,” you say with a grimace as you shove the excited boy off your shoulders. “but good job guys, you did great! who knew you were actually good at quidditch huh,” you tease, and chan gives you a playful nudge.

“i saw you with a certain hufflepuff boy in the stands,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows, and you slap him on the arm.

“ok he practically forced me to go, it was the only way to stop his stupid begging and whining,” you argue, and your three gryffindor friends nod their heads in clear disbelief.

“sure y/n, keep telling yourself that.” chan says, giving you a pat on the head which you swat away.

“sorry that took so long, i-” felix’s out-of-breath voice stops mid sentence when he spies you with the other boys. “oh uh, hi,” he says shyly, clearly not expecting their presence. your friends grin knowingly and changbin and jisung start to whisper to each other. chan puts on a friendly smile and greets felix back, reaching out to shake his hand.

“thanks for coming out even though your house wasn’t playing,” he says, and felix seems to warm up to chan a bit.

“i’d never turn down a chance to watch a good quidditch match! you guys are amazing,” he babbles, and you giggle at his enthusiasm, glad to see him and chan connecting.

“you’re not so bad yourself dude. too bad we’ll have to crush you in a few weeks,” chan teases, and all the boys laugh.

“i’m impressed you were able to drag this one out, we’ve been trying to get them to come to our games for years,” changbin groans, gesturing to you. felix shrugs in response.

“i mean it wasn’t too hard, just a small bribe of some chocolate frogs and here we are,” felix says, and you feel three pairs of eyes burning into your soul. you can practically feel the smirks on their faces, and you can already hear the teasing you’ll experience later.

“well anyways, we’re gonna hit up the great hall for some snacks on our way back, you coming? you’re welcome to join us, felix,” jisung invites.

“um actually...felixistakingmeforarideonhisbroomstick,” you splutter out, and you hear jisung make a strange noise of disbelief at what he just heard.

“sorry, what?” chan asks, and the grin on his face tells you he knows exactly what you just said. you let out an annoyed huff and repeat yourself.

“felix is taking me for a ride on his broomstick, and we better get going before it gets too late.” you say in defeat and embarrassment, reaching to grab a confused felix’s hand so you can get away from your friends before they have the chance to say anything about it. jisung opens his mouth to make what you assume is a raunchy joke about riding broomsticks, but a death glare from you shuts him up.

“okay, have fun! but not too much fun,” chan says with a wink before quickly ushering a protesting jisung and changbin back towards the castle. you’re grateful for the falling darkness, because you can feel how bright your cheeks are burning right now.

“i’m so sorry about them,” you apologize, and felix laughs it off.

“they seem fun,” he says, then tugs on your hand gently. “follow me, i know the best place to go where we won’t get caught. trust me, i sneak out all the time with hyunjin and minho and we’ve never seen a soul.” you nod nervously as you follow felix’s lead, praying that you won’t regret this.

after a bit of walking and some light conversation, you arrive at a small clearing near the edge of the lake.

“this is SO against the rules,” you mutter to yourself as you step over some large roots. felix gets to a spot where the sky above is clear (and growing darker by the minute), and there’s lots of room around you. he straddles the broomstick and motions for you to join him. as you make your way behind him, you can’t help but wonder if you're more nervous about flying or about the prolonged close contact with felix. there are so many layers of clothing between us, you tell yourself, it’s fine. you place your arms loosely around felix’s waist, nervous to get any closer.

“we’re gonna start off just hovering, okay? we’ll take it slow, it’ll be alright. you can tell me if you want to stop, but i really think it’ll be fine, trust me,” he says to comfort you, and you nod. felix kicks off the ground, and you gasp as you feel your feet dangling in the air. instinctively, your arms squeeze tightly around felix, and you press yourself as close to him as possible.

“i can feel your heart racing, it’s okay just relax!” felix says with a laugh.

“easy for you to say, you practically live on a broomstick,” you grumble, and you feel felix’s body shake with giggles underneath you.

“i’m gonna take us a bit higher now,” felix says, and you press your face into his back as you feel yourselves rise higher, the air getting colder as you ascend. you feel a gentle breeze tangling your locks, and the broomstick begins to inch forward. you open one eye slightly and let out a small squeak as you see how far the ground is below you. you’re almost above the height of the trees now, and felix is doing slow laps of the clearing.

“see, it’s not too bad, right?” he asks, and you force yourself to open your eyes again. if you don’t look straight down, you have to admit the view is really nice. trees and rolling hills pepper the landscape, and you can see the quidditch pitch and hogwarts a bit farther in the distance. the last rays of sun are reflecting off of the lake, and the twilight sky is beginning to sparkle with the night’s brightest stars.

“yeah, i guess it is pretty nice,” you begrudgingly agree. your knuckles are white as you hold on to felix for dear life, but the more time you spend up here the more you realize how stable he’s keeping the broomstick, and how much he does seem to be taking caution to make sure you’re comfortable. you let out a shaky sigh as you try to relax and take in the scenery as you hover above the trees.

“there’s one more thing we can do, if you’re okay with it,” he says, asking for your trust. you say nothing, simply nodding into his back; you’re afraid if you open your mouth you’ll regret it. as soon as he has your confirmation, the broomstick suddenly bursts forward and you can’t help but let out a piercing shriek.

“FELIX!!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!!” you manage to yell over the howling wind. your eyes are tearing up from the cold night air, and your throat feels dry, and you’re convinced your heart’s stopped beating. felix just lets out a joyful laugh in response, yelling back to you “SHOWING YOU THE BEST THING ABOUT FLYING!” before plunging the nose of the stick into a dive towards the ground. he pulls up, of course, and does a few more fancy tricks before slowing down to a more leisurely pace above the treetops.

you sit there in shock for a moment, wide eyed and breathless, trying to take in the wild turn of events.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!! YOU IDIOT WE COULD’VE DIED OR SOMETHING,” you scream in between breaths, still trying to get your heart to stop racing.

“but we didn’t, right? i told you you could trust me!! was that not fun??” he asks, giddy with adrenaline. you choose not to respond, because he’s right--as much as his sudden moves scared the living daylights out of you, you have to admit it felt pretty freeing.

“this is my favourite view,” felix says to change the topic, and you lift your head up to look around. you’re coasting above the lake, the last rays of sun painting the landscape golden. more stars are out now, and the glow of the castle feels truly magical and welcoming. you steal a glance at felix, cheeks nose and ears bright red from the cold but an awestruck look on his face nonetheless. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so peaceful and content, and the feeling spreads to you as you finally relax your grip a little and rest your cheek on felix’s back.

“thank you, felix,” you mumble, feeling surprisingly at ease now.

“sorry, what was that?” he asks and you can hear the grin in his voice.

“i’m not saying it again,” you warn, and he remains silent. part of you wishes you could live in this moment forever, gliding over the mirror-like surface of the water with the warmth of felix to stave away the cold tendrils of night air.

“we should uh, head back. it’s getting pretty late,” he eventually says after a comfortable silence passes. you nod in agreement, and felix takes you back to the quidditch pitch, where he returns his broomstick quickly before coming back to walk with you to the castle. the walk back is mostly silent, with the two of you hiding from professors and prefects a couple times but making it back to the ravenclaw common room unseen. there seems to be some shift in the energy between you now, the silences feeling a bit more awkward than before, but neither of you wants to acknowledge it.

“well, uh, thanks for trusting me. and sorry if i scared you,” felix says with a small laugh as you reach to door to the common room.

“it’s okay, i uh...i actually had a really good time. you’re right, you know, it is a really wonderful feeling being up there.” you admit. you have to stop yourself from adding “with you” to the end of that sentence. “so thank you for everything, lix,” you say and you cringe at the nickname that accidentally escaped your lips. felix tries to hold back a smile but fails miserably, blushing at the nickname.

“goodnight, y/n,” he says after clearing his throat.

“um..goodnight,” you say before going to answer the riddle to enter the common room. as you mutter the answer and begin to enter, you hear felix call after you.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

there’s a long pause.

“uh, nevermind. goodnight!” he says, and before you know it he’s down the stairs and out of sight. confused, you creep up to your dormitory to get ready for bed. your dreams that night are filled with the wind rushing through your hair, beautiful landscapes whizzing past you, and most importantly of all, felix’s joyful laugh ringing in your ears.

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simpsiren · 4 years

Text

closer to you

lee jeno x reader

main masterlist

the sequel

description. you’re in a 2 year relationship with jaemin. the two of you know very well that you arent each other’s soulmates but you still felt that jaemin was the right one for you. that is until you are celebrating your 2 year anniversary with jaemin that memories of you being with someone else in your so called “past life” starts coming back to you, as if wanting to make you realise that your soulmate is still out there.

genre. soulmate au, strangers to lovers au, fluff and angst

warnings. none? except for the fact that reader becomes violent in their words when they’re stressed i guess

a/n. literally got this idea from the flashback tiktoks thats been appearing in my fyp. like ive seen it so many times that i just had to write about it HAHA alrighty thats all enjoyy :D

when the idea of soulmates was first represented to humans, humans deeply believed in it, and would follow the idea of it religiously to find the one that they are truly meant to be with. however, now in the modern day, the idea of soulmates is slowly disappearing. people still believe that the number engraved on the side of their right foot is the time and date that they’ll meet their soulmates, but people of this generation start ignoring that fact, marrying someone that isnt even their soulmate. it left their actual soulmate to either die alone, or having to force themselves to love and marry someone else other than their soulmate.

and now here you are, surrounded by your friends with jaemin sitting next to you, your boyfriend of two years who’s number on the side of his foot does not match yours.

“blow out the candles already!” you hear johnny screaming. you and jaemin turn to look at each other at the same time, giving a smile before blowing out the two candles on the red velvet cheesecake that signified your two year relationship with jaemin.

you laugh loudly as everyone claps for the two of you. jaemin quickly places a peck on your cheek, making everyone smile widely. “i love you.” jaemin whispers into your ear.

“i love you too.”

“do you really not care who your actually soulmate is? you know very well jaemin isnt yours.” you purse your lips into a thin line as you find jaehyun leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom.

“does it look like i care? who the hell even cares? ill be with who i wanna be! i aint gonna follow some ‘oh you’re destined to be with this guy’ type bullshit.” you giggle to yourself as you took a sip the whiskey in hand, despite already being in a very drunken state.

jaehyun walks over to you and snatches the glass away from you. you whine and beg for it back, but you know all too well that jaehyun is not going to give you what you want. you let out a huff in response.

“my god, evaline. how drunk can you be?” jaehyun takes a seat on the chair that faces your bed, in which you are currently rolling on and mumbling to yourself about god knows what.

jaehyun sighs as he looks at you. he’s been your friend for almost forever yet he still cant get over the fact that no matter how hard he tries to persuade you that jaemin isnt your soulmate, you give zero fucks about it.

“i really hope he comes in your dreams or something. if i can’t convince you, then why isnt the world doing anything about it?” jaehyun whispers to himself, resting his chin on his palm as his elbow is placed on the arm rest of the chair.

you wake up with a sharp pain in your head. you wince as you slowly tried to sit up straight. you rub your eyes and try looking around your room. everything is normal, except for the fact that jaehyun is sleeping on your chair. you shrug your shoulders as you let out a long sigh and stare at the door in front of you, spacing out for a little. after at least five minutes of you doing nothing and staring off into who knows what, you gather up your strength to stand up from your bed. you stagger your way over to jaehyun.

“jae, wake up already. make me something to sober up- ouch!”

your foot suddenly hurt, making you stumble back and fall onto the floor. you flinched in fear when you realise the number on your foot is glowing. you scream in pain as you feel as though something thin and sharp is constantly stabbing your foot. the spinning in your head only made it worse. jaehyun wakes up from all your screaming and drops down on the floor to assist you quickly.

“evaline? eva! what’s wrong? wait why’s it glowing..” jaehyun eyes travel from your scrunched up face to your leg, noticing the number that’s glowing.

suddenly, your vision became blurry. you lost sight of what’s happening around you. you dont see your room and jaehyun in front of you anymore. you struggled as you try to squint your eyes to get your vision to be clear. it took awhile for your vision to come back. and when it did, something wasnt right.

it was like you were having a flashback. a flashback to a time you were unfamiliar with. you didn’t remember experiencing it at all. but the flasback looked like memories that you feel a sudden strong connection with.

the flashback was vivid. you couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. you saw a guy, estimated to be around your age, who’s smiling widely till his eyes form a thin line and holding up a polaroid camera to your point of view. you heard him laugh as snaps a picture and the camera’s flash shined your view. you soon focused your vision again onto the guy. he’s waiting for the film to develop. and that’s all you saw. a small snippet of a far distant memory which you arent even sure if it happened.

after that, you snapped out of your odd trance. you feel jaehyun shaking your shoulders with the look of extreme concern on your face. you bring your hand up to your head and scratch it slowly as you tilt your head in awe. jaehyun stops his actions as looks at you wierdly.

“what the fuck did i just experience?” you mumble to yourself, trying to process what you just went through. you look up from the floor to see jaehyun blinking his eyes rapidly.

“you saw what?”

you were this close to slapping jaehyun in the face.

“how many times do i have to fucking repeat myself?! i got a flashback of a memory of some random dude that i dont even know about!”

jaehyun’s mouth remains open in shock and confusion. it took him a few seconds to process your words. and when it did, he places both his hands on the table.

“its a sign.” your forehead creases as you look at him weirdly.

“the fuck you just say?” you pick up your fork and stab it into your freshly cooked fried chicken meal.

“is this the first time you experience it?” jaehyun asks you as he takes a sip of water. you took a moment to think about it.

“yeah it is.” you breathe out. jaehyun only nodded his head. he starts thinking about what he wished for that night had something to do with what happened to you.

“you know what? forget it. i need to meet up with jaemin for our date. ill see you around.” you finish what’s left on your plate, waving to jaehyun before leaving the restaurant.

jaehyun watches your back as you slowly disappear into the distance. “it cant be... can it?” jaehyun shakes his head and continues eating.

“hey, babe. how was lunch with jaehyun?” jaemin wraps his arm around your waist as he leans down to peck your lips.

“it was good. let’s get ice cream.” you give off a wide smile and dragged jaemin to the famous ice cream shop that you were dying to try.

by the time you were halfway to finishing your ice cream, it was already 8pm. you’re weekly ice cream date with jaemin never fails to be extended as your chats with him grow longer and longer with every date.

as jaemin was talking, your mind goes back to the time you had that odd flashback. you wonder what it meant, or whats the significance of it. why did that suddenly happen to you? what can you do to make it go away? because for all you know, you have everything you need right here, in front of you. you had jaemin.

“eva? hello~?” jaemin waves his hand in front of you to snap you back into reality. you shake your head vigorously. “oh shit im sorry jaemin what did you say?” jaemin smiles softly as he repeats over what he say.

it was about 10pm and you decided it was finally time to go home. you would have taken the train alone but jaemin insisted on accompanying you home and going back by himself after. you and jaemin were walking down the street that will lead to your apartment when jaemin sudden opens his mouth to ask you something.

“did you ever believe about the soulmate thing?” you stop walking and turn your body to face jaemin. jaemin does the same, shoving his hands in his pockets.

you shrug your shoulder and placed your weight on one leg. “i used to, but i slowly started to think it was ridiculous and that i should be able to love who i want, not someone im destined to be with.” you reply, slowly reaching your hand out to run your hand through jaemin’s hair. he smiles at your touch and pulls you in with your other arm, hugging you gently.

“im glad to be the one that you love, despite the fact that im not who you’re destined to be with.” jaemin strokes your hair and digs his head into the crook of your neck. you rub his back slowly. “me too.” you kiss jaemin on the cheek and pull away, smiling softly. “come on, we’re almost at my apartment.” your hands trailed down to meet jaemin’s, interlocking your fingers with his and you both continued walking down the long street.

however, for the first time, it felt as though jaemin’s hand didn’t sit right with yours, like his hand didnt belong to fit in yours. you look down at the interlocking hands. you never felt this way before. why did it occur to you only now?

“something on your mind, eva?” you hear jaemin ask. you shot your gaze up from your jaemin’s hand to his eyes, shaking your head as you faked a smile.

weird

a week has passed since that weird encounter of yours. you couldn’t get it out of your head. every hour of the day you’ll spare a few minutes thinking about it. why did you feel so connected to it? you felt eager to know about what i meant. why did a few seconds of experiencing a distant memory would be etched into your mind as you constantly replay what you saw that time?

you found it funny how you were already so deep in your thoughts early in the morning. you lay in bed looking through your social medias for awhile before getting out of bed to head to the living room.

you see jaehyun sitting on the couch, immensely concentrated on whatever’s on the television screen. you take a seat beside jaehyun, looking down, you see him munching on a bowl of popcorn.

“popcorn for breakfast. really?” you raise an eyebrow as jaehyun nods his head and offers the bowl. you take it regardless of your comment and stuffed popcorn in your mouth.

“you didn’t shower yet?” jaehyun asks. you only shrug in reply. jaehyun looks at you with a disguested look.

“i bet you didn’t shower either, now did you?” jaehyun kept quiet as his eyes widened yet still glued onto the screem. you observed his reaction and scoff, rolling your eyes. “idiot.” jaehyun glances at you and chukles, reaching out to take a handful of popcorn.

“what are you even watching?”

“a movie that i didn’t finish last night.” that explains the popcorn then.

you focus your mind on the movie, despite not knowing what it’s about. everything seemed normal until you see a couple suddenly come on screen. they’re apparently at a amusement park.

almost instantly, you lost sight of your surroundings. oh no.. it’s happening again. you shut your eyes tightly as your vision became blurry once again. you opened your eyes widely to find yourself at an amusement park. a flashback is now occuring, this time it was different.

the flashback. it wasnt a memory you’re unfamiliar with. its jaemin. you see jaemin come into view. it looked like you were taken back to your third date where jaemin brought you to an amusement park. you see him running in front of you happily. jaemin was about to turn around, and you remembered that exactly after that he smiled at you. but he doesn’t. you realise that its not even jaemin.

the one you’re seeing now is the guy from your previous flashback. the polaroid guy. he smiled the exact same way he did when he took the picture of you in the flashback. the guy reaches out to take your hand and you’re being pulled towards him. why does it feel like you’ve seen him somewhere? or maybe you haven’t, but feel like you would some time in the future.

“eva? god, evaline! wake up please!” you hear jaehyun’s voice.

“did it happened agai-“

“it happened again.”

you look around. everything was back to normal. you look at jaehyun. but his eyes were fixated on your foot, he looks shocked. you slowly tilt your head down to look at the number on your right foot. it changed. the number.. reshuffled themselves?

“you’re seeing that too right..?”

you nod your head slowly. its getting more weird. the number on your foot said that you’ll meet your “soulmate” on february 12th, 2020 at 7:06pm. but now, it changed itself to become december 6th, 2020 at 2:19am.

basically it went from 12.02.2020 19:06 to 06.12.2020 02:19

“did i space out again?” you look up at jaehyun as he nod slowly, still looking at your foot in shock. you couldn’t blame him. what happen? did it somehow extended the time you’re about to meet your soulmate? why did it happen? what does it mean?

you told jaehyun what happen. and he almost fainted. you let out a long sigh.

“im telling you its a sign. probably the guy you’re seeing is your soulmate.” jaehyun says lazily and he muched on some strawberry pocky.

“then why was jaemin in the flashback too? isnt it weird?” jaehyun nods his head quickly. he puts down the pack of pocky on his lap and blinks a couple of times. you see the gears turning in his head as you assume that he’s trying to come up with an explanation.

“maybe jaemin’s tied to the guy? like maybe jaemin knows him. or the dude’s from your past life and somehow jaemin is representing the guy in your present life.” jaehyun looks down to see his pocky was stolen from you. you nod your head and you continuously stuffed each stick into your mouth and eating them. “urgh i dont fucking know what to do about this!” you groan in frustration. suddenly, something hits you.

“wait. what’s today’s date?”

jaehyun lifts his phone up to check. “30th november. why?” jaehyun asks. “oh wait.”

“you’re telling me i have a full week until i meet my so called soulmate that i dont even know where ill meet him?!”

you scoff in disbelief. jaehyun doesnt respond, only staring at your face like he’s seen a ghost.

“can i somehow break someone’s neck and slam it on the wall for like i dont know, 5 hours?!”

no reply from jaehyun once again.

“oh for fuck’s sake i cant do this! im heading to johnny’s tea shop for my depression tea. meet me there if you want, i’ll probably be there the whole day as my head constantly spins.”

you quickly got up from the couch and get ready. jaehyun sees you coming out of your room with a hoodie and plain wide legged jeans. you only grab your phone and keys and waved jaehyun goodbye before leaving the apartment. jaehyun sighs.

“i might have set her temper circuit short.” jaehyun whispers to himself and sighs, getting off the couch as well to head over to johnny’s tea shop. “literally could have drove her there but oh well.”

when you enter the shop, johnny face lit up with a huge smile. he runs over to hug you but his smile soon fades away and into a confused look when he sees how pissed you look.

“that’s very... interesting.” johnny comments. you sigh and nod, fiddling with the teaspoon in your drink. “yeah well its not going to be fun once jaemin knows.” johnny stops in his actions and looks up at you. your eyes glanced at johnny before tilting your head up from the drink that wrapped around your hands.

“yes i haven’t told jaemin. i didn’t think it meant anything at first but now...”

“you have to tell him! soon! its a sign!” johnny exclaims. you smacked your hand onto your forehead lightly. “i’ve heard that phrase countless of times by jaehyun and now you too? can you please explain?” you whine, scratching your head vigorously as you argrily take a sip of tea.

you were stressed, very stressed. life was going so well until this happened. you dont know who the mystery guy is. you dont know why he’s “memories” with you suddenly come back, especially when you’re in a really intimate relationship with jaemin. the same question keeps repeating in your head over and over each day and it gets more stressful when you try to think of an answer for them.

“no no listen. it happened to my relative. she was 3 months away from marrying her boyfriend who’s number doesnt match hers. and then she started getting weird flashbacks and she said that the number on her foot changed so that she wouldn’t miss a chance to meet her soulmate in the future instead of the past. and the so called memories? they’re memories that you’ll make with your soulmate once you meet them. the world is trying to make you realise that the guy in your flashbacks is your soulmate and not jaemin.”

you kept silent. so what jaehyun said was right. it was a sign to encourage you to find your real soulmate instead of settling for the one you arent meant to be with. you let out a sigh of relief as you finally know the background information to your whole situation.

“that’s a lot to take in.. how am i suppose to tell jaemin?” you frown as you look out the window. you love jaemin, very much. but to be honest, for the whole 2 years of your relationship with him, everything felt perfect, yet something was off. you never managed to pin point what, until now.

“oh i texted him just now when you were talking to me and he’s coming since he wants to see you.” great. you arent mentally prepared to tell jaemin yet and he’s going to arrive here in 15 minutes.

“evaline! johnny texted me saying you were here and i immediately rushed over.” jaemin comes up from behind and kisses your cheek. you purse your lips into a thin line and you look to johnny leaving his seat. he nods his head, in a way to give you confidence to tell jaemin about the whole ordeal.

“jaemin.. i have to tell you something.” when jaemin takes the seat where johnny sat, you reach your hand out to grab his, slowly soothing your thumb over his skin. “mhm yeah what?” you look up from his hand to his face.

“ive been getting um.. signs lately. flashbacks. jaehyun told me that the guy, who’s always the main subject of my flashbacks could be my soulmate. and i might be meeting him soon, on 6th december.” you whisper to him, biting your lip.

jaemin swallows his own saliva, blinking at you a few times as he tries to process what you said. he lets out a long sigh and painfully puts on a soft smile.

“i knew it was going to happen to one of us sooner. ive heard about the flashbacks. its bound to happen sooner or later.” you nod your head in response.

“im sorry, jaemin. i love you very much-“

“its fine. i understand. im glad the world made you realise that you’re soulmate is still wondering around somewhere, and that it isnt me. im happy i got to spend 2 years loving you.. it made me feel good.” you interlocked your fingers with his, smiling softly before letting go.

you could tell jaemin was hurt. like a knife was stabbed into his heart. you see it behind his smile, his eyes. you knew him all too well.

“we’ll still be friends. and i hope you’re soulmate will come to you.”

jaemin only nods. you lean in and give one last passionate kiss on the cheek before hearing the bell above the door ringing, and noticing that jaehyun has arrived.

december 3rd, 2020. you’re three days away to meeting your soulmate. where? you werent sure.

“good morning, evaline.” you hear jaehyun say. you just got out of bed and you were walking to the kitchen when you see what jaehyun was doing. he’s reading a book. your vision went blank.

its another flashback. you start to mentally prepare yourself as yoh want to absorb as much information as possible on your soulmate in the small portion of the memories.

“the book’s is interesting.” you’re hearing your soulmates voice. you try to figure out if you’ve heard it or not, but shake it out of your head when yoh remember your goal of gathering information. you registered the tone of his voice.

he’s sitting on a bed with round gold glasses on, in his pajamas.

your soulmate laughs. the same way he did the first time. he turns the book to you and it showed his phone betweem the pages of the book, resting there. “just joking!” you hear him say. you take a look at the wallpaper of your soulmate’s lockscreen. it was a picture of him kissing your cheek. it looked oddly the same as the picture you and jaemin once took together. however, there was a text above the picture. evaline heather and lee jeno

lee jeno. that’s the name of your soulmate.

december 5th, 2020. you’re starting to mentally prepare yourself. you dont know where you’re about to meet him. you tried coming up with all possibilities. to be frank, you were more excited about whether the places you thought of might be the place you meet your soulmate rather than being nervous.

the three flashbacks you had. it felt all too familiar. like you’ve known this lee jeno person forever. you feel the connection each time.

when the clock strikes 12am, your mind unknowingly decides to go to the park. the park where you and jaemin first met. you dont know why. it felt like your body was urging you to go there. you lazily got ready and headed out the door, of course you told jaehyun about your outing before leaving the apartment.

you had your hands shoved into your pockets with your hoodie on as you yawned. you breathed in the night air, admiring it dearly. when you reached the park, a quick glance at your phone told you that its 2am. you sigh and took a seat on the bench mindlessly after walking around the park.

you sat there for a few minutes, looking up into the sky and staring off into the distance. suddenly, you felt a presence next to you. you turn your head over to see a guy.

“you seemed pretty lonely so i brought ice cream-“

that voice.

“what’s your name?” you interrupt

the guy pauses and smiles. his face, his smile. its just like the one in your flashback.

“lee jeno. you?”

you didn’t reply. its him. he’s your soulmate, he’s here.

“why does it feel like ive known you for a very long time..?” you slowly started to ask as your eyes looked at him up and down.

jeno chuckles. “maybe..” you see jeno taking off his slipper on his right foot and lifting up his foot. you see the exact number that’s engraved on your foot.

“im your soulmate.”

139 notes · View notes

choco-mark · 4 years

Text

A Marriage of Inconvenience (5)

overall pairing: mafia!jeno x mafia!oc

overall genre: angst | smut | fluff

warnings: language, mentions of drugs + drugs affecting health, mentions of a hospital-like setting, jeno being an ass, mentions of violence, oppression of women (kinda)

summary: when two mafia gangs decide to end their family feud after decades, your mother decides to give your hand away to marriage of their son, lee jeno. he seemed to hate you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, but could the resolution lead to something much more than a bride and groom?

words: 4k

masterlist

requested by 🤡 anon

19 April

You felt your eyelids heaving down on you as you forced your eyes open, bright light flooding to your pupils immediately making them dilate, and close your eyes again. There was numbness to your body, but you could feel the weakness of your heart as you opened your eyes once again, trying to sit up from where you were.

A figure came into your view however, pushing you gently back down against the softness of the bed. “It’s good you’re awake,” you recognized the raspy voice as Mark’s, his face coming into your vision as your head hit in the pillow again. “Don’t try to get up, though, just stay there.” You glanced down at your hand, an IV was taped down against your skin, and your eyes moved past Mark, looking around at the hospital-like room. Yet, it didn’t quite looked like a hospital. “You’re in the hospital wing,” he said, gaining your attention as he read your mind. “You were—uh, I’m sure you know, but you were drugged. And—um, you kinda overdosed.”

You opened your mouth in a slight ‘o’ formation, the thoughts not fully going through your brain until they came rushing at you full speed, the memories of what had happened in that red room coming back to you in less than a second. You shot up, this time, your head whipping over to where Mark was now trying to convince you to lay down again. “Jisung! Where is he?! Where’s my Jisung?!”

You tried to move yourself off the bed, your body only meeting against the man’s hands as your mind didn’t think of anything other than your brother. Struggling against him, he caught your legs as you attempted to swing them off, pulling them back onto the bed. My brother who took a bullet for me. “Where is he?!” You screeched, your ears not registering anything that he was trying to tell you, your hands clawing at his shirt as you remembered it all: his side-step, the blood, his innocent face. “What’d you do with him?! What did you fucking do with him?!”

“Y/N! He’s fine! He’s fine!” Mark was screaming back at you, his heart slowing down as he saw tears welling up in your eyes at his words, your movements slowing down. “He’s fine. Jisung’s fine. He’s okay, he’s okay.” You took a few deep breaths, your hands removing themselves from the fabric of his shirt, allowing you to calm down.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in the room right next to this one, okay? He’s doing well, the doctors were able to get through the surgery successfully. He’s okay now, he’s not hurt anymore.” Mark’s voice was soothing, and he watched as you sobbed silently, not even caring that you were letting your emotions out in front of another. “Hey—he’s fine, he’s okay. He’s as jolly as an apple pie!” You weren’t really sure why he used such an analogy, but it seemed to reassure you a little as you nodded, sniffling and wiping away your tears messily.

“I want to see him,” you said, your voice coming out more broken than you expected it to. “Can I see him? Is it okay for me to see him?”

“Yeah, of course you can—if you think you can walk there. Or, I can go get a wheelchair, though that might take a while since the nurses are kinda annoying and they don’t really—” You swung your legs off the bed, your feet meeting the ground as you grabbed onto the mattress for support at first, your head dizzying for a brief moment as Mark looked at you incredulously: like you had just juggled with fire. “Or—not, I guess.” He added, rolling the IV tubing alongside you, allowing you to grab onto it.

“I’m fine,” you said, more to yourself than to him. You were still feeling like you were out of this world, and your body was probably still being highly affected by the drugs that were laced into your bloodstream. Though, you felt better now that you weren’t being coerced into getting more injected into your veins. “I’m fine. I just need to see him.”

Mark led you out of the room slowly, not helping you walk as you blatantly refused him, telling him over and over again that you were okay. He listened however, watching you as you took steps towards the room that Jisung was currently in. You didn’t even bother knocking, the door sliding open with a swipe as you opened it, the room being empty of everyone except your brother. There was a massive amount of equipment, much more than the amount that was in the room you were in as you walked to the side of the bed, your eyes falling on the large bandage across his chest.

You took a shaky seat on the small stool beside the bed, not wanting to wake him up from his slumber but also wanting to hear his voice again. Sighing, you let a hand graze over the top of his head, giving an endearing stroke to his soft hair. “Oh Jisung,” you whispered, brushing his bangs away from his forehead, stopping momentarily as you felt him stir. “Sungie?”

The boy’s eyes fluttered open in slow intervals, blinking carefully as he turned his head to face you, his eyes falling on your devastated figure. “Y/N...” He let out a small whisper of a breath, one that he almost choked on as he tried to get a good look at himself. “I—I got shot, didn’t I?” He asked matter-of-factly, making you scrunch your face up as you tried not to let the tears out.

You remembered it, clear as day as he was in front of you in less than a flash, falling in the same fashion as you heart screamed out. As much as you wanted to kill the boy for being all brave, you were more than glad that he was able to survive, especially since it had been a fatal shoot to his heart. “Yeah, you dumbass,” you managed to get out, your voice cracking in the slight. “You just had to put on the brave act, didn’t you?”

Jisung laid back down against the pillow, offering you a soft smile that calmed your nerves. “It wasn’t an act, you know,” his voice was hoarse as he spoke, but his look was still the same, staring up at the blank ceiling. “It kinda hurt...and it still does. What about you though?” He tilted his head towards the drip beside you, standing tall as it was still connected to your hand. “Are you okay?”

“Er—well, I overdosed.”

Being immersed in the chat you were having with your recovering brother, the two of you didn’t seem to notice the door open slowly; it was Jeno, about to check on his...brother-in-law? To be honest, Jeno didn’t even know what to call Jisung, considering he wasn’t actually married to you and well—he didn’t even know if the wedding would be happening anymore. His thoughts clouded him for a brief second, just a second before he heard you let out a tumble of laughter. His eyes trained on you as you reached over Jisung’s bed, moving to ruffle his hair violently with a huge smile plastered to your face: a smile, a real smile. It looks good on her. He shook his head, what?

“You know you can walk inside, right?” There was a voice in his ear, startling Jeno as he meant to take a step forward, silently cursing from the sudden sound. Mark leaned against the doorway, looking from the two siblings and then back to Jeno. “Why? You don’t wanna intrude? You’re already watching them from the doorway like some creep, might as well go inside while you’re at it.”

“Shut up,” his snapback was weak, eyes falling back on your figure as gave Jisung’s hand a squeeze, your smile never fading from your lips as you did so. Your head tilted towards the door in a natural motion, your curved lips retaining their normal line as your eyes fell on Jeno and Mark. Jeno went frozen at the sight of your smile disappearing as fast as it appeared, cursing to himself. “Fuck...”

He wasn’t sure why he liked it so much, but that was probably the most beautiful you had looked in front of him, away from the way you always had snarky remarks and scowls in your face in front of him. You didn’t have your usual disgusted look, but it went back to its tired complexion as you stood up from Jisung’s bed, loosening your hand from the now drifting boy.

“Don’t tell me you like her now,” Mark continued, his voice much lower in Jeno’s ear now. “Kind of a bad time, you know. Considering her brother just got—shot, you know. Shot by your brother.”

Jeno gave him a sharp look. “He’s your brother too.”

“Yeah sure, but I’m not the one marrying her,” he gestured to you, shrugging shortly before stepping back. “You might want to apologize before you try something, Jeno. Or it’ll just backfire.” And with those words, and a ‘it’s not my fault’ from Jeno, he walked down the hallway of the hospital wing, leaving the area.

Mark’s words held some truth—that being his chance with you would backfire before he even tried—but he couldn’t just try anymore, either. Trying was for first times, for the first meeting perhaps, first word or first glance. But what was this, first life-threatening experience?

But there was something different that he felt went he saw you smiling and laughing and talking like that, something that told him that maybe he shouldn’t have been so harsh on you from the moment he laid his eyes on you. Maybe he shouldn’t have declined you before he knew you. Maybe he shouldn’t have spoken back to you when you hadn’t even opened your mouth.

Jeno had seen the scars of punctures in your arm; there were way more than there should’ve been in a day. The doctor had said that you were somewhat tolerant, probably from training that you had done to become resistant to drugs, but the way your body was crumpled without life made him curl his fists for the brother that had given it to you in the first place. That was...brother number two, he thought. One out of the two that wanted his fiancee.

And then there was the other one, the one that had spat in his face and told him that you weren’t Jeno’s, but his. The one that had yanked the chain around your neck so hard that it left a dark scar on the back, and had dropped it on the floor with a sickening clang. There was no ugly jewelry around your neck any longer, and for some reason, it felt empty to him.

He hoped, as you walked out of the room without a second glance at him, that perhaps eventually, that ring could be replaced: replaced from hanging against your chest to fastened around your left ring finger. Maybe even sworn as his wife.

20 April

You had been released from the room in the hospital wing to go to your own room, even though you would’ve rather stayed beside your brother instead of on another floor of the palace. But you were sent back anyway, told that you could visit anytime that you wanted to. However, it didn’t occur to you that the palace was—massive, not until you had to navigate your way to Jisung’s room.

It was in the mid-afternoon when you had run into the same silver-haired man that had drugged you a day before. Except he didn’t look the same, his hair was a darkened shade of brown and his face was—apologetic. He introduced himself to you again, giving you a long bow and calling himself Donghyuck, before moving away from you, not sparing you a glance as you continued down your path. He didn’t give you much of an explanation, and for a second you wouldn’t thought he was a look alike if he hadn’t directly apologized for—well, injecting deadly substances in both you and Jisung. Only then you had realized that you were in the west wing.

Yet it didn’t seem to hit you until you stopped in front of a room that had a slightly open door, the bed looking identical to the one in your room. It smelled of a familiar scent, however, one that you couldn’t quite pinpoint as you moved to take a step inside. It was—oddly inviting, but thankfully you had hesitated, as the bathroom door opened shortly after that.

You took in a sharp breath as your eyes roamed over the emerging figure of the blond boy, a towel drying out the wetness in his hair as he walked out with only another towel laying low at his hips. There was still water dripping from his heavy toned body, making the skin glisten as he moved to the dresser on the other side of the bed. The movement made you realize what you were doing as you let out a small squeak to seeing his hand grasp the end of the towel, and he whipped his head over at the sound at the exact same time, his eyes falling on your huge ones.

You turned around as quickly as you could, pressing your back against the wall with your heart beating out of your chest. God, why did I stay? I should’ve just left. He saw me, didn’t he? Fuck, I better just run for it now. But you couldn’t move, your feet were planted on the ground without even a little ability to step forward and away, and worse of all was—his body was still on your mind. Jeno hadn’t shown off his body before, especially not those arms that you just saw being involuntarily flexed as he dried his hair. It did things to you—things that shouldn’t really be happening. You still hate him...right?

“Y/N?”

His voice was soft, a sort of bittersweet feeling as he peeked out from his room, his dark eyes resting upon your rising and falling chest. Your name spilling from his mouth was—nice, different than what the usual ‘Park’ sounded like a harsh, and usually reluctant call for you. You felt yourself heating up in embarrassment as you looked over at him, hoping that your face didn’t give away emotions. Well, considering from the way you looked like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, he probably could sense how you were feeling.

“Um—hi,” you scratched at your head, your eyes flitting down to where the towel was still hanged at his hips and immediately bringing them back up, gulping as you focused on his face instead. “Yeah, um, I—am...lost. Yeah, lost. I was, uh, trying to get to the hospital wing.”

He blinked, as if you had said something that he didn’t expect you to say. Hopefully he hadn’t realized the way you were very affected by his body, but a small smile ghosted over his face, surprising you. “I can take you there, but I gotta get dressed first. Do you want to come inside?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, why is he smiling like that?! “Um, yeah, okay. Sure, yeah.” You shut your mouth before you could allow yourself to stutter over your words any longer. He moved the door open a little more, his body lightly brushing past you as you made your way inside.

The door shut with a quiet thud as you walked in further, trying to seem interested in the displays of jewelry on his bedside table. You could’ve sworn you heard him let out a chuckle as he moved back to his dresser, his back facing you as he opened one of them. Taking a quick glance, your eyes grazed across the ink on his back, making you gasp louder than you expected yourself to. Jeno turned his head, facing your shocked expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered in a small voice, quick enough as you looked away, “I just—didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

“You like it?”

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he let his hand graze over his left side, touching the ends of the thorns lacing over his back. They were large, thick and filling over the entirety of his left back, leading to the side of his hip. It intrigued you to know how far it actually lead, if it decorated his thigh just in the same fashion. “Do you like the tattoo? It’s...a few days old. I got it right before you came here.” You weren’t sure why he was telling you that, was the tattoo meant for you?

“Y-Yeah, it’s nice,” was all you could get out, not being able to look away from his body now. To him, it seemed like all that confidence from literally just two, maybe one day ago had been thrown out the window to absolutely nothing, leaving you so flustered in front of him. For some reason, he wanted to coo at how innocent you looked.

Wait, why would I do that? Your fingers were playing at the hem of your shirt, nervously picking at the threads that were adorning the edges, and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from the motion. But...she looks so cute right now. Her lips look so—

“So I met Donghyuck,” you blurted out, trying to ease away the silence as you watched his eyes train up to yours again, his eyebrows narrowing. “Oh, uh, I mean quite literally, he didn’t try to kill me this time. So, um, don’t worry about that.” Your voice faded near the end, wondering if he would even care about it anyway. “Yeah, um, I’ll just, turn around.”

Jeno knew that Donghyuck had been coerced into helping Taeyong, especially from the way he had begged for mercy when he got a hold of him later, confessing what truly happened. Mark had convinced him to let him go, telling him that locking up Taeyong in the dungeons for a bit should clear up the issue instead of doing so the young one, and he brought him back to the hospital wing in one piece. Well, he wasn’t completely ecstatic from the way he had decided to drug you so hard that you overdosed, but he couldn’t quite control himself. Taeyong had gotten him addicted as well, using it as a bait to help him in his plans.

But he didn’t expect to see what he saw when he looked back over at the surveillance footage, watching his younger brother take your chin into his own grasp and kiss you so hungrily with a type of fever that he hadn’t seen from him before. He seemed like another person when he taunted you with his teasing words, calling you pet names and rubbing your skin, but then injecting you with heroin and watching you take it all at once. And from all of that, all he could get from it was...possessiveness.

With a few steps he was standing in front of you, his gaze focusing on your wide eyes as you felt your heart jump again, probably higher than it had before. “Y/N,” he sounded out, clicking his tongue pointedly. “Do you...hate me?”

You weren’t expecting that. “I,” you looked around hesitatingly, not sure what answer he wanted. Is this some kind of quiz? Pop quiz, I guess? Mind game? Right? He wants me to say yes, right? I don’t get it. “...Don’t hate you.” Maybe you disliked his earlier snarky remarks, but you couldn’t quite say that you hated him...right? He did come to save me, though...kinda.

“Do you want to marry me?” He asked with a hint of desperation, perhaps a hint that you didn’t quite notice. He took a step forward, making your heart now lurch into your throat. Wow, this man was really rendering you breathless right now. “Right now?”

“Now?!”

“No, no, I mean like—in this moment like right now. Not from the shitty way I treated you before, I mean like right now. Right here, in my bedroom. You didn’t want to marry me before, I...know that, and neither did I. But I want to know, do you want to marry me now?” He let out a breath after his short ramble, and you blinked, not sure how to respond.

There was something about the way he was looking at you that made you want to tell him yes a hundred times over, to wipe that look off his face and replace it with that same smile you saw a few minutes ago. But there was also the entire rest of your heart reminding you of how he viewed you earlier, as nothing but a rival, a girl, a competitor.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” You asked shortly, tucking half your bottom lip under your teeth making a sucking sound. For some reason, you didn’t notice how it affected Jeno, however, because his eyes were now fixated on your lips. “What if I asked you whether you want to marry me? We were both forced into it—”

He cut you off expertly, holding the nape of your neck as his lips pressed down against yours, hard. You stumbled back from his sudden attack, your lower back hitting the edge of the mattress as you attempted to keep up with his pace. Hands went against his bare chest, pressed back against the warm skin as he leaned impossibly closer, sucking slowly on your lip.

His tongue explored into your mouth first, taking you aback as you tried not to stumble back any further, pushing him back as hard as you could. He was stronger, devouring your lips as if he was a man of pure hunger, one that had been deprived of food for so long. And that’s when it hit him, when he felt the skin of your palms graze over his chest, it was so...wrong.

“No,” he pulled back, his lips bruised from how hard he had crashed them against yours. He scanned you: your confused expression, your swollen lips, your messy hair. You took a step forward, reaching out to him, maybe with a certain hope but he moved back from your touch, shaking his head repeatedly. “No, I can’t do this. I can’t...this isn’t fucking right!”

“Jeno—”

“Y-You,” he gestured to you, a scoff adorning his once soft voice as he felt fire course through his veins. “You’re just a fucking Park. Another fucking useless girl—shit! I’m not supposed to like some bitch I’m forced to marry, what the fuck?!” He seemed like he was talking more to himself than to you, but it made your heart drop to your feet, lower that you thought was possible as his face scrunched in disgust.

You felt a lump forming in your throat, and you couldn’t help but feel so utterly stupid, what else could you have expected from someone like him? So careless, so judgemental; he was such a Lee. But why did it hurt? It shouldn’t hurt. It’s not supposed to hurt. I shouldn’t have let him in.

I can’t believe I let him kiss me. “I’ve never met someone so fucking selfish as you, Lee Jeno.” you wished you couldn’t sounded stronger, but it was just a tang of anger along with hurt, so much hurt. His bright eyes flashed over yours, softening so slightly when he saw the tears welling in them. “I hope you realize one day that maybe I don’t want to fucking be here, either. I don’t want to be somewhere I’m clearly not not wanted, especially not by the man that’s supposed to love me.”

“I—”

“Save it,” you turned away from his wiping the tears messily off your face, feeling stupid for letting them fall in the first place. “I’m leaving. Don’t worry. Don’t you fucking worry, Lee. I’m leaving, and hopefully not coming back.”

previous | next

hi..please don’t cry. i mean...i didn’t kill jisung?!?! hehe, love you guys ♡

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daaziscoolbesties · 3 years

Text

[REPOST] MY 2K WORD COMMENTARY/ANALYSIS OF RANBOO’S LORE STREAM

‼️‼️This post contains lore spoilers from Ranboo’s 4/23 stream, “The Enderwalk Saga. Chapter 1: The Lessons”. If you haven’t seen that stream don’t read ahead unless you want spoilers‼️‼️

disclaimer: this isnt really an analysis as much as a bunch of commentary and half-baked theories.

-on the way to the mansion he was sort of talking to himself saying stuff like "i'm good i'm good" which m a y be a normal thing but also maybe it's not and it flew over our heads cause he talks to chats and donos like that so often

-again, this one may just be a normal thing but when he was climbing up the stairs in the mansion looking for foolish, he repeats some of his words like down to the exact same tone of voice and everything. 12:42, "this mansion is way too big actually. this mansion is way too big actually." (why the repeated actually? seems odd to me but again it might just be a normal thing that i haven't picked up on). (right after) "okay okay lemme find him lemme find him" again repeated words in the e x a c t same tone.

-does everyone know about ranboo's silk touch hands ability thing? or was that just a techno and ranboo main character moment. bc if it was, how would foolish know that ranboo could pick up the full cake after it'd been partially eaten. unless everyone on the sever knows about that in which case this means nothing. but if they d o n t know... how would foolish know? ranboo wrote about it in the do not read book so maybe if it's not a publicly known thing maybe foolish got his hands on the book and read it??

-14:53-ish, they're talking about the war room and how it was for tubbo or whatever and ranboo says, and i quote "he prepares for lore but he's never gonna do it." now funny thing is at first i couldn't tell if he said "war" like in reference to the war room or "lore". but after playing the clip over and over i can say with ALMOST 100% certainty that he said lore. there is a definite L sound at the beginning of the word. which either means a) this was a slip up (doubtful bc he said later that there were no mistakes), b) he broke the fourth wall because they were supposed to be rping at that point, or c) i'm completely wrong and he said "war" which leads down an entire other road of possibilities

-15:17 "are you a book reader?" "*checks inventory for do not read book* uh yeah i'd say i'm a book reader-" dunno how i didn't catch this the first time I HATE THAT DAMN BOOK

-15:18 there's blue in his hotbar. where did he get the blue.

-16:40 "it's like a metaphor- i have two minds: i have my normal self, my normal little shift-dancing self, and then the builder one. the builder one is demanding. it's a very demanding mind." ranboo then lets out a weird sigh after this. i feel like what foolish was talking about was an indirect(?) parallel to ranboo in and out of enderwalk, there's how he normally is, trying to do best for others, and then there's enderwalk, meeting up with bad guys and "demanding" things (its very late as i write this i really don't know what i'm talking about)

-17:11 "you have your panic closet" i'm sorry his what now 😀 no but seriously how the hell did i miss some of these

-18:04 "you're asking me if i remember?" very funny ranboo thank you for making jokes in these trying times

-18:25 WHY DID HE GET OUT THE AXE WHEN STARING AT THE BEE

-19:38 why did foolish hold the grass block- most of these observations probably mean nothing but- h u h - is that- i'm too tired for this

-19:54 "i never properly thanked you for the deal you made with me" so foolish got something out of this deal, we're not sure if ranboo did. "the green cardboard box" again do you mean dream's house- but seriously the only people i can think of on the server that are associated with green are dream and sam. and i have no idea what cardboard box could be referring to. foolish got a lime colored shulker from drista

-20:30 "we're supposed to only talk about it at a certain location" hmm now where would that be? panic room maybe? cause like usually after doing a big thing in the enderwalk state ranboo wakes up in the panic room so maybe? the deal was that they only talk about it in his house

-21:52 how does ranboo receive(?) the lessons? like are they whispered to him in his mind or is he seeing them as words in front of him like we see? hmm

-"Lesson 14: If you have the opportunity to gain a favor, take it." "gain a favor" don't you usually ask people for favors though? how does one "gain a favor"? anyways i'm pretty sure lesson 14 has to do with the deal foolish was talking about. (the deal explained because i now have info: at some point a bit ago foolish met up with ranboo and asked to make a deal, he'd gotten a shulker box from drista. the deal was that ranboo would have ownership of the box, it would be under his name but foolish rents/borrows it indefinitely. ranboo negotiated that if he took ownership of the box he would get a "war favor" from foolish where if something happens that creates sides, ranboo can ask him a favor that could change his side. but why would foolish want ranboo to have ownership of the shulker you may ask? well i have an answer for you. a theory actually but still. basically since drista technically isn't supposed to give out shit on the server if someone where to have that stuff then they may get in trouble. foolish wants to be able to use the shulker but if it gets found he doesn't want to get in trouble, so he can blame it on ranboo seeing as it's under his name.)

-22:16-ish "i still have this from when you *can't understand whats said here*" well i guess that sort of explains why he had the grass block? idk man (info update: he had the grass block from when ranboo threw it at him telling him to calm down like what ghostbur does with blue)

-31:35 "i figured out how to cause it" how to cause the enderwalk state

-38:30 "ninety three lessons" I STILL DONT KNOW WHY HE KEPT SAYING NINETY THREE AND NOT NINETY FOUR AND ITS DRIVING ME CRAZY LMAO

-39:01 "it's all for the greater good" okay well when are you gonna start thinking about yourself and not everyone else for once huh. self care bitch.

-40:31 he started holding the axe when he was looking at sam- gonna say it i really don't like that axe ahahah- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE THE AXE IS NAMED "axe of ender" I DONT LIKE THAT I DONT LIKE THAT AT ALL

-41:53 is there something?? physically keeping him from telling sam??? or maybe it's sort of like his enderwalk state taking control to make him shut the fuck up??? so many questions and approximately zero answers

-43:18 ranboo raising his voice legitimately scares me 😀👍

-"Lesson 27: Do not reminisce on what you have lost for it will weigh you down." showed up when he was thinking about and REMINISCING about the community house 👀👀

-"Lesson 53: Never fully trust anyone." showed up literally after he said that he thinks he can trust the other people on the server enough to tell them about what he did

-"Lesson 67: Leave no evidence of what you have helped with." this is different from the others because there doesn't seem to be at least a semi-direct connection to it? unless maybe at the time ranboo was near something he may have "helped with"? not sure about this one

-"Lesson 94: DO NOT LET THEM KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE DONE" yeah yeah i get it i get it he's fucked up some shit in enderwalk i don't feel like analyzing this thanks

-OH OH NOTICE HOW HE SAYS "REMEMBERING" WHEN THE LESSONS SHOW UP. IMPLYING THAT THIS ISNT A NEW THING, ITS HAPPENED BEFORE AND NOW HES REMEMBERING IT. MAYBE HE WROTE DOWN THE LESSONS WHEN HE WAS IN ENDERWALK AND NOW THAT HES BEEN EXPERIMENTING ITS BEEN EASIER FOR HIM TO REMEMBER THOSE ENDERWALK MEMORIES

-okokok the experiments are that he's been e x p e r i m e n t i n g on how to purposefully induce the enderwalk state. and we know now that it wasn't from the pain of the water because on the stream afterwords he said that it's caused by the intense fear of something happening. and so the "side effects" of the experiments is that since he's in enderwalk more often(?) he starts remembering more things from it

-OH MY GOD WAIT "there is a reason sam, there's so many reasons, theres ninety three of them" (44:47) WHAT IF EVERY LESSON IS TIED TO A QUOTE UNQUOTE "reason" THAT RANBOO THINKS HES A BAD PERSON/NEEDS TO BE LOCKED UP BUT HE SAYS NINETY THREE INSTEAD OF NINETY FOUR BECAUSE THE NINETY FOURTH LESSON DOESNT HAVE A REASON YET/HE DOESNT REMEMBER IT HAVING A REASON

-dude honestly the whole sam part hurts so much this man is scarily good at acting

-46:46 "i cant put you in the prison you wouldn't be able to see michael anymore" bestie that's the point he doesn't want to accidentally hurt michael or tubbo in the enderwalk state—

-okay but there's no way that sam couldn't tell that ranboo was at least TRYING to confess to something- i feel like he definitely knows more than he's letting on because usually like when people do bad shit or admit to doing bad shit he's like in Prison Guard Mode™️ (he literally cut off ponk's arm because he stole some keycards or something) and whatever and idk what he knows but he definitely knows something and is trying to protect ranboo. or he's trying to manipulate him or smth either one works—

-50:38 "you are a good person" "i am?" you can hear my heart shatter. "yes you are" "i don't think so sam" "i do, even if you don't" "i really don't think so" and there it goes again

-51:25 hello badboyhalo i see you to the left of ranboo

-52:44 "but then my curiosity got the best of me" curiosity killed the cat, bitch

-52:54 "there's ninety three, ninety four, ninety- theres so many reasons!" SEE!! NOT ONLY ARE THERE THAT MANY LESSONS THERE ARE REASONS THAT CORRESPOND IM S O SMART—

-52:56 "i don't want to remember anymore!" *quietly brings forth my theory that when ranboo loses a canon life his memory gets wiped*

-53:13 "ive opened pandora's box" isn't the prison?? literally called pandora's VAULT??? so this m a y be a stretch but i'm thinking that maybe this could be taken in the literal sense that he "opened" the prison and let dream out (the sirens at the end of quackity's stream confirm that dream is indeed out)

-53:42 mans just straight up walked through a ghost i—

-55:37 so are we just gonna ignore the eleventh page of the book? "he's alive, but hopefully soon dream won't be"??? alright nevermind it's most likely bc when tommy came back he recruited ranboo in his plan to kill dream

-55:47 notice how he writes "what am i?" as opposed to "who am i?" no elaboration here idk what it could be

-56:08 just so it's clear for anyone who doesn't know- he's wearing armor at this point, and i'm like 90% sure that when he wears his armor water can't hurt him. and i saw someone say somewhere that like with splash potions when thrown it turns into a gas-like thing? so again, it didn't hurt him, he didn't get hurt. he said in the chill stream that he wasn't comfortable making it where his character had to hurt himself to do that. the thing that causes the enderwalk isn't pain, it's intense and sudden emotions like fear and stress. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

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harrysgoldenline · 4 years

Note

this is super soft but can i request something where the reader doesn’t have a lot of experience and her and harry agree to take things slowly? there’s so much pressure nowadays and physical stuff makes me anxious haha🤍🤍 totally okay if u cant/don’t want to! ly :)

love this idea bc I also don’t have much experience so i may be projecting here lolololol. ANYWAYS! Kinda made me my mini series called “Cant Help But Love Him”! I really hope this is kinda what you were thinking and you like it! Thank you so much for requesting 💕

Inexperienced

Harry and Y/N have been together now for just over two months, having known each other for a year and a half before that they both completely loved and trusted each other. They meet through a mutual friend, Y/N was a bit younger and instantly intimated by Harry while he was entranced by her instantly.

When he asked her out the first time (and even still to this day), she cutely blushed and anxiously agrees, finding it hard to believe that he even wanted to spend time with her.

That leads to where they are now, an uncountable amount of dates later, sitting on the floor in Harry’s living room as they sat eating pizza after their night out at a much too fancy work cocktail party, the pair leaving early and ordering the pizza on their way home.

Y/N changed out of her gown, borrowing a pair of Harry’s big t-shirts and leaving on the spandex she had underneath as he sat across from her in a pair of sweats and his white tank undershirt.

“You like the shake? That bloody machine is always broken when we go there.” He chuckled, nodding toward the homemade chocolate milkshake she gripped with both hands.

She let out a soft giggle, eyes wide as she nodded with the straw between her lips. He smirked, staring at her as the girl happily dipped in the shake, eyes closing as she lets out a soft ‘mmmm’.

He slowly scooted closer to her, licking his lips as he stared at hers, his thumb raising to the girls lips and wiping away some of the leftover residue, staring down deep into her eyes. He could see the girls chest rise and falls shakily, licking her own lips as she watched him put his thumb into his mouth quickly.

“Need a better taste.” He barley spoke, smashing his lips onto hers in an instant, cupping her face with both hands.

Y/N was surprised by his sudden move, shakily setting down the milkshake before her arms go around him, tangling in his hair, letting out a soft whimper as she feels his tongue slip into her mouth and she instantly grants him access.

He suddenly grips her thighs, lifting her up and having her legs wrap around his waist as he also stands, knocking over her milkshake in the process.

“Harry!” She exclaimed, throwing her head back laughing before lifting her head back up to look at him, “put me down we need to get that cleaned up.”

“I need you.”

He leaned forward, his perfect, pink lips attaching to her neck and sponging soft kiss on the bare skin, arms right around her waist as he continued walking to his bedroom, Y/N’s heart starting to beat out of her chest.

Tell him. She was screaming in her head, tell him it’s okay. Harry won’t be mad. He’d understand.

He kicked the door open and close in an instant, connect their lips before separating them lay her down on the bed, a sly smirk on his face as he stared down at her, slipping his shirt over his head before starting to hover over her.

He gripped her face in one hand, pressing their lips together and Y/N tried to focus on his lips, his warm skin. Everything is okay. She was telling herself, it’s Harry! Just do it! Tell him the trut-

“Wait.” She chokes out, eyes already welling up with tears as embarrassment and fear filled her, “I-I’m sorry, Harry- I can’t-“

“No, fuck I shouldn’t have moved so fast I’m sorry-“ he rambled, quickly moving and sitting next to her, “I’m sorry... why are you crying, baby I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you- fuck... I really am-“

“I’m a Virgin.” She admits, ripping the bandaid off completely, “like, completely. I haven’t, umm. I haven’t really done anything...not really, I mean really...nothing.”

“Nothing?”

She nods, confirming his thoughts and his blank stare of surprise remained glued on his face, making Y/N rub her eyes to try to calm down before standing, planning to head to the living room to clean up the mess and go home.

Harry quickly grabs her hand, pulling her back to him, surprised to have run into his hard chest rather than falling back on the bed. She slowly looked up at him, a loose curly strand falling in her face that Harry quickly tuck behind her ear, a sympathetic smile slowly covering his face.

“You leaving?” He softly asked, wiping a stray tear on her cheek, “I truly am so sorry if I made you uncomfortable or pressured you, that was never my intention. You are so important to me. Whenever your ready, no matter how long it takes.”

“You never have, Ive just been so happy I didn’t know what you were going to say... or if you would even have wanted me stay.” She admitted, cuddling herself into his warm skin, “it just makes me feel so silly. You’re like the sexiest man alive and I’m just some inexperienced girl who somehow got you...”

“Ya think I’m sexy?” He smirked, digging his fingers into her sides.

“Shut up!”

Harry heart flutter as he heard her laugh, grabbing her wrists as he went to push his chest, gripping them and pulling her close and quickly throwing her over his shoulder, spinning around a few times before having them both fall on his bed, the pairs laughing loudly and leaning into one another.

She softly leaned in and quickly pecked his lips before burying her face in the crook of his neck, snuggling into him as his arms go tight around her.

“Lets take things slow, okay?” He whispered softly in her ear, “I really, really like you and I don’t wanna rush into anything, we’re gonna do whatever you feel comfortable with. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost ya.”

“But, Id hate to... deprive you.” She blushed, shyly looking back up at him with a red face, “don’t want you to grow to hate me for making you wait o-or go to somebody else... just because I’m not ready yet.”

“I’m not gonna hate you. Never could.” He whispered, kissing her forehead, “and absolutely could never even think about being with anybody else. If you knew how much I liked you I think I’d scare you away.”

She shook her head in disbelief, wondering how she got to be the luckiest human being in the world to be able to have him. She quickly pressed her lips onto his, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I do like kissing you.” She whispered, innocently looking up into his eyes, “Really, really love kissing you... that doesn’t scare me. Can we just do that?”

“Fuck yeah.” He chuckled, smashing his lips quickly onto hers, gripping at her sides as his tongue slides into her mouth.

“Wait!” She squeaked, pulling back and giggling as she saw his eyes still closed with puckered lips for a moment before opening them back up, cheeks pink after realizing, “the milkshake! It’s gonna destroy your rug!”

“It’s a stupid rug.” He muttered, pecking her lips rapidly making her laugh, “I’ll get a new one.”

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles headcannon

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chat-noir-always-here · 4 years

Text

“Hey Arnold!” and “Miraculous!” parallels

Ever have an idea for a post that you take forever to get around to because 2020 is

actively

trying

to kill you?!

Welp, that’s me. I mean, uh, this is that post.

Long post is long and I don’t like cuts cuz I’ve lost a few posts in the past using them. Please filter the tag “long post” I use it for walls of text like these.

So there’s this show from my childhood called Hey Arnold!

Having been on air before I had cable (I and my unsupervised brothers and sisters spent our childhood watching Jerry Springer and Maury because there was literally nothing else on our cheap little TV. How hilarious is that?) I didn’t really have much of an experience with Hey Arnold! aside from brief little glances at it when i visited a friends home or the rare occasion where they showed cartoons at school. By the time I got satellite, the show was no longer on the air save for some late night reruns and the Christmas special which aired in December along with other Nickelodeon Christmas episodes (THE best Christmas episode EVER btw).

Really I couldn’t remember much about it until hearing about the Jungle Movie finally getting a release date (a total flop but at least its no cliff hanger) and decided to re-watch the entire series in preparation for said movie.

By which point I had discovered another show—Miraculous.

At first glance the two shows have absolutely nothing in common. Miraculous being a French-born mahou shoujo-esque CGI superhero TV series about a couple of middle schoolers who regularly battle a walking peppermint-frappucino-looking psychopath. Hey Arnold! being a more realistic children’s sitcom about a young football-headed boy who deals out humanitarian aid in the form of advice and simple good deeds to his neighbors, classmates and friends.

In terms of setting, logic, and animation the two series are as different as night and day.

So imagine my pleasant surprise to discover a whole post’s worth of parallels shared between the two shows???

And here they are in no particular order:

1)Arnold’s Parents/Adrien’s mom

Prior to the start of Miraculous, Emilie Agreste disappeared under mysterious circumstances leaving her family behind. Later on it was revealed that she was in fact sleeping (dead?) in a glass coffin beneath the Agreste mansion--unbeknownst to Adrien, or anyone else in Paris save for Gabriel and Nathalie.

In a similar fashion, Arnold’s parents, Miles and Stella, also disappeared prior to the start of Hey Arnold! and like Emilie were always referred to as “missing” rather than “dead.”

The Jungle Movie later revealed Miles and Stella weren’t dead, but like Emilie appears to be doing in her coffin, they were sleeping. Having caught a bout of sleeping sickness (apparently they do not need to be hooked up to IVs or other medical devices while in a comatose state cuz fuck logic) they simply needed their orphaned son to come and cure them with the help of the magical golden heart Helga provided him with.

Perhaps Mari holds the key to waking Emilie? That would be nice to see.

Not the miraculous of course--but some other key.

Although personally I’m hoping for a hardcore, devastating ending like Emilie dying, Gabriel going to prison where he belongs, and Adrien leaving the country for a bit until the second Hawk Moth shows up because I just like devastating cliffhangers and angst and being in utter turmoil over fictional people. But that’s just me.

2) Their best friends are dating

Smol parallel here: Arnold’s best friend Gerald and Helga’s Best friend Phoebe wind up together in The Jungle Movie after being imprisoned together by Lasombra. Similar to how Nino and Alya ended up together after being imprisoned by Ladybug (for their protection, of course).

3) The Bag of Money Episode/ The Ladybug episode

OOh boy both of these episodes make me rage.

Some context about the Bag of Money episode: Arnold and his friends Gerald and Sid find a random bag of money containing almost $4000. Sid is ecstatic and wants to split the money evenly between the three boys, but Arnold worries it could just be lost and convinces them to let him, Arnold, take the money to the police station. On the way he accidentally switches the bag with another one that is identical and contains a bunch of useless junk, and when he tries to explain what happened to his friends they don’t believe him because their bag of money was accidentally taken by an “old lady with pink hair and a peg leg.”

Arnold’s a good boy and he’s telling the truth--but the truth sounds crazy, even to my ears. Sid accuses Arnold of stealing the money and spreads lies to their classmates, whom Arnold has spent the ENTIRE SERIES helping in some form or fashion. Despite everything he’s done for them though, the vast majority of the class come to believe Arnold is a thief. Even Gerald, Arnold’s closest friend, nearly believes Sid over Arnold but eventually comes to Arnold’s defense. The other kids (save for Helga who doesn’t really make an appearance this episode) gang up on Arnold, but thankfully the old lady with pink hair and a peg leg shows up with an officer and together they explain the bag of money is now at the lost and found where it will remain and if gone unclaimed will be returned to Arnold, Gerald and Sid.

Pretty much everything is resolved and things return to normal between the kids.

But I hate this episode. I hate this episode so, so much. Arnold has spent the entire series helping these people out in some form or fashion. Literally thats the entire show. And after everything he’s done for them they’re so. Quick. To. Turn. On. Him.

Sound familiar???

4) Hidden Personality vs. Surface Personality

I do not refer to the cruddy “true selves” thing half the Miraculous fandom believes in. Depending on one’s individual circumstances, environment and how comfortable they are, said person’s behavior can fluctuate or even do a complete 180. This can be kinda frustrating when dealing on one’s own--”Who am I anyway? Is that me or is this me???”

It’s all you, fam.

Arnold and Helga are themselves too, no matter what metaphorical/actual mask they put on. There’s the side that everyone sees and then there’s the side almost no one sees. The hidden personality isn’t hidden due to a lack of trust, necessarily, but rather it is the result of retreating to their respective “shells”--ones which both Arnold and Helga were kinda punched, kicked, and shoved into.

Helga’s surface personality: Class bully, puts up a tough front, constantly torments Arnold because she can’t stand him and his niceness

Helga’s hidden personality: Poetic, abused and isolated, is in love with Arnold to the point of being obsessed with him and bullies him via surface personality in order to hide that fact

Of course Adrien is no bully--his reasons for not being the “cunning, funny, ultra-charming Chat Noir” 24/7 DOES have a lot to do with his toxic household, his dad, and the overwhelming expectations which are constantly smothering him as Adrien.

Adrien is a bug under a magnifying glass (or so he feels)

Chat Noir is a chance for a freedom.

Adrien’s surface personality was molded by his dad.

Helga’s is the result of her entire family. Her father is brash and loud, her mother is a confirmed alcoholic, her sister is a gifted prodigy, well-rounded and spends most of the series at university or elsewhere. Although her sister, Olga, has been shown to genuinely care for Helga, Olga is kinda the reason their parents neglect Helga. With their first daughter being the genius and prodigy she is, Helga’s parents poured all of their pride and affection and parental devotion onto her. Meanwhile Helga had to walk to pre-school alone. At four years old. In the rain. Not for the last time.

Which leads me to the next parallel.

5) Umbrella in the Rain

squeals in delight over this parallel<3<3<3

If you’ve never seen Hey Arnold! do yourselves a favor and watch this short little clip over how Helga and Arnold first met. If you have seen it, watch it anyway because it is the most adorable clip in the entire show.

youtube

Dr. Bliss: “So nobody’s ever noticed you?”

Helga: “...There was someone.”

The soft way Helga confesses that--you can actually hear how grateful she is to have such a tender memory from such a painful time.

In a similar manner, Adrien offered his umbrella to Marinette. Of course Adrien did it because Mari had to walk home in the rain and Arnold did it as a simple gesture of kindness (seeing as they were already at the school)--one of the many kind acts he displays throughout the series.

But just like Adrien needed unconditional love coming from somewhere, so did Helga. They were both denied this one common necessity which everyone else around them had. It’s not a lot to ask for, and they should’ve already had it coming from their families--but they didn’t.

And then, one rainy day, there it was--the unconditional love they needed.

6) Clinginess

What happens when you take someone, specifically a love-starved abused child from an unstable home environment--deprived of the one thing most crucial to their mental well-being--and miraculously provide them with that very necessity?

Clinginess.

I can’t really think of the correct word to describe this. “Clinginess” is pretty close to what I’m trying to describe, if not on point, so let’s go with that.

What I mean is Helga and Adrien both need Arnold and Ladybug respectively. That’s not a bad thing--it’s okay to need somebody else. What’s bad is hinging your entire being on this one connection. For if either kiddo were to be left behind they wouldn’t handle it very well.

It can’t really be helped with either Helga or Adrien. They didn’t really have the option to learn certain things and went deprived of unconditional love for such a long time. They’re kids--nine and fourteen/fifteen respectively. They’re not perfect and they’re traumatized for life. Being denied love from your family--the very people designed to love you--would do that to a person. Naturally they would cling to the first people to show up and provide them with the love they needed.

The Hey Arnold! wiki says this about Helga and Arnold’s relationship

Due to her unstable family upbringing where both her mother and father constantly neglect [Helga] and shower all of their attention onto Olga, leaving her deprived of the love and attention she needed growing up. On her way to preschool, Arnold helped her by keeping the rain off her with an umbrella and even complimented her on her hairbow. He even later gave her crackers during their snack time. Arnold's kindness and being the first person to notice her quickly caused Helga to transfer all of her love and attention to Arnold.

Of course Adrien’s tunnel vision isn’t quite as bad as Helga’s.

He treats his friends better.

He does love his father--

Even though his father is THE.

WORST.

PARENT.

EVER!!!

--because he’s Adrien and he’s just too precious a cinnamon roll and that’s still his dad even if the man does belong behind bars.

7) Unhealthy Obsession

I--

I...

Ugh. I am not going to delve too far into this. You’re just going to have to take my word for it. Helga’s creepy stalker behavior is a thousand times worse than Marinette’s. That pic up there of Helga hiding out in Arnold’s room watching him is pretty decent evidence to back up my argument, but it’s hardly the only example or even the worst incident.

Honestly I’m amazed at what Nicktoons were able to get away with in the late nineties/early 2000s.

But yes, Helga’s obsession with Arnold is rather unhealthy in the most extreme moments leading her to display behavior which is more often than not disturbing and concerning.

The Hey Arnold! wiki has this to say about Helga’s obsession with Arnold

Helga is possessive of her love for Arnold and thinks non-stop about him to the point of obsession. This is evidenced throughout the series by the many shrines and poems she makes of Arnold and of her frequent dramatic soliloquies about her love for Arnold.

Again--Mari isn’t as bad as all that. She’s a sweet girl with many healthy relationships in her life. She has ambition, creativity, and drive. But yeah she can be rather possessive of Adrien too, and that needs to stop. Like right now. Adrien doesn’t need another girl being possessive of him and thinking he’s perfect--he needs someone who acknowledges him as a flawed person and loves him despite that.

As for Helga and Arnold--show creator Craig Bartlett confirmed they are “made for each other” and wind up married with three kids, so I’m guessing Helga grew out of some of these bad habits? Or at least I hope so...

8) Helper/Humanitarian tendencies

As mentioned before, the plot of Hey Arnold! is more or less about Arnold helping people. As stated by Gerald in The Jungle Movie, “He’s a humanitarian! Like his parents!” Of course not every episode is about Arnold helping people. There are episodes devoted to supporting characters and they’re just as enjoyable and satisfying.

But as he is the titular character he spends a lot of time in the spotlight.

Remember that “best christmas special EVER” episode I mentioned before?

The reason it’s the best special, in my less than humble opinion, is due to a few things.

The special is not about Santa Claws. In fact, I don’t think he’s even mentioned, let alone shown and treated like an actual living character.

The focus on the entire episode is again on Arnold helping someone, but he doesn’t succeed. Not really.

The one who succeeded in helping someone was Helga, who accomplished the goal Arnold had set out to do.

The episode deals with some rather dark subject matter and is actually quite heartwarming as the “perfect present” Arnold was trying to provide someone with wasn’t something you can buy in the store

It’s also one of the episodes where Helga’s love for Arnold leaves her to do good and as her love for him is a secret, she expects nothing in return. She’s just happy to help him.

Kinda similar to Mari who is, as Adrien puts it in Mayura, “Our every day Ladybug.” Her kindness and devotion to helping others is what drives her as Ladybug and Marinette. It’s what brought Ivan and Mylene together. Is the reason Nathaniel and Mark now have a comic book together. And at the end of the day, that’s the reason for her strange behavior around Adrien--she wants to help him. Even if it’s just as a “good friend.”

9) There are two main characters

Although Hey Arnold! is technically a show about Arnold, one could argue it is just as much Helga’s story.

Similarly, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir is named thusly in order to convey the fact that Adrien is just as much a main character as Marinette is.

Although I must say Hey Arnold! did a much better job of giving it’s co-character their dues. GIVE. ME. MORE. CHAT NOIR. FOCUSED. EPISODES. DAMMIT.

But, yes, in terms of screen time, Helga gets about as much as Arnold does. Her story and struggles were given just as much importance as Arnold’s and many people have even come to believe that the show is really about Helga. I’d say its about both of them.

10) Constantly bumping into each other

Granted this happens between Arnold and Helga more often than it does to the love square dorks.

But yes the two people meant to be together keep knocking into each other in their respective universes.

I forget who, but I remember reading that someone a while back theorized that this was the universe’s way of trying to push Arnold and Helga together. Kinda like the “Now kiss!” meme

Perhaps it’s the same for Adrien and Marinette?

;)

#long post #adriennette #shortaki #hey arnold #miraculous ladybug #love square #nicktoons #zag toons

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meg-noel-art · 3 years

Note

I just had a thought regarding she ras ending and now I'm mad. Sorry fam need to rant for a sec. Also if ive sent you a similar ask before I'm very sorry I have bad memory.

So (and I could be remembering this wrong idk I refuse to watch s5 again) when Micah finally comes back from beast island and hes too late to see glimmer before she's beamed up by Horde Prime - is we get this weird like arc (sorta) with him and frosta trying to connect and I get it - Micah is trying to grapple with the fact that his daughter is now grown up / his wife is dead? (Or in an inescapable alternate dimension?) And frosta doesn't have an adult / parent figure in her life. And I get thematically what their trying to do and why but imagine how much more touching it would be if we actually got to see some interaction between glimmer and Micah before he was chipped.

Like their first interaction after x amount of years is when Micah is brainwashed (what a copout for drama + tension).

On Top Of THAT at the ending scene of the series we have like a 20 second "Hi I'm your dad!" Moment and then glimmer goes to hang out with the BFS and be all like "we're going to bring magic back to the universe!"

Meanwhile I'm sitting over here like "you just got your dad back??? You dont want to, oh I dont know, Spend Time With Him??? Before going off world?? Maybe you want to work out that grief over losing Angella?

We were robbed of that good father / daughter content is all I'm saying.

Yeah, I agree. I mean I'd say Micah, and the relationship between Micah and Glimmer, got about as mistreated as every other character and relationship in S5.

Was Angella even mentioned once in S5? If she was I can't remember, and that probably says enough about that.

Micah getting chipped, along with Scorpia and Mermista was really lazy as a writing choice because they were all characters that:

A.) Had personal conflict to work out with Catra

B.) Unresolved plot lines (Micah)

I don't think he and Glimmer should have been cool right off the bat (that's why I don't like their reunion scene either) -- they absolutely should have gotten the weird arc they gave Micah and Frosta, to Micah and Glimmer.

For what little we know of the show's own lore (which is a whole other issue but whatever) Micah "died" when Glimmer was very young. She could have hardly known him, and even if they were close -- she's obviously not the same person she was as a child.

Beyond that, I would have been very excited to see a conflicted relationship between them. Glimmer has been afflicted her whole life by the loss of her father. It influenced her disdain for the Horde, her will to fight in the war, and her tension with Angella.

It would have been fascinating seeing her struggle with the concept of having a long lost parent back, but maybe resenting him for 'leaving' in the first place, or the struggle of WANTING to be close to him, but not even KNOWING who he is.

Micah was also implied to have been 'losing it' a little on Beast Island, not knowing how to behave correctly around Adora and Bow -- extending that to how he behaved around Glimmer -- just... NOT knowing how to BE would have been great to see.

Really, there was no chance of this though.

S5 had very little breathing room for ANY characters. SPOP s5 suffered from a bunch of the same issues TRoS did. Which is, mainly, that the plot just happens because the writers need it to. Not because any of the character motivations lead it there. Or lead it there believably. A character may make a bit of plot happen even if it makes no sense for them to influence it that way. That's still a writer bending the story to make the plot what they want. A to Z and skip all the other letters, as it were.

Which is bad writing, plain and simple.

Glimmer and Micah were never going to get a nuanced character study like this, although I wish sincerely that they had.

Father/daughter relationships arent often explored with the nuance I think they should be in media. Especially considering many young kids HAVE a lot of struggles with fucked up father figures (and I speak from my own experience.)

Idk, ultimately spops issue was using the backdrop and drama and trauma of a war to tell a story with ultimately no relation TO that issue and it shows when a lot of these complex ideas and potential dynamics get dropped or get a band aid solution or just aren't approached at all.

This is definitely a frustrating aspect of the show.

Ultimately, I think, the worst thing a series can do is make you feel dumb for ever being excited for it. And I often do feel like a fool for expecting a lot of things that I saw as a natural resolution....or just, how WRITING works. 🤷‍♀️

#yeah #long winded response for 'i agree'#it's just another victim of spops tone issue #salt #spop salt #asks #micah #glimmer #s5 #spop critical #strawberrypincushion #i hate that i liked this show man

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wkemeup · 5 years

Text

Obsession

summary: Targeted after your complicated relationship with Bucky ends up on every news channel in the city, your stalker takes things into his own hands to ensure that you belong to him, and him alone.

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 11.2k

warnings: stalking, kidnapping, mild torture/violence, people being assholes to Bucky,

authors’s note: oooo man Ive been dying to write something like this for awhile and I’m so happy I could incorporate a prompt from @afewmarvelousthoughts’ writing challenge! My prompt was “We’re going to be ok” Hope you enjoy!! ✨

Bucky has been through more in his lifetime than most, survived more than he should. He’d been drafted into the US army in the second world war and given a group of men to lead through the trenches of hell. He’d been a prisoner of war, twice, experimented on, tortured, beaten and mutilated for a cause he never agreed to. He’d been ripped of his memories, of his innocence, and broken down into a shell of his former self, forced to carry out orders for the vilest organization in known history.

He’d been destroyed from the inside out, in every sense of the term, and still, nothing torn through him with a paralyzing fear quite like the moment he found out you’d been taken.

O N E M O N T H E A R L I E R

“So, Y/n has a stalker.”

Bucky choked on his cereal as Tony strode into the kitchen with a hand full of manila envelopes, sporting a single raised eyebrow and a purse of his lips.

You giggled as milk trailed down Bucky’s chin, rubbing soft circles on his back until the coughing fit subsided. You nudged his shoulder as you scooped up a bite of honey nut cheerios from his bowl while he was distracted. He narrowed his eyes and you only shrugged in response, cheeks full of cereal and a drop of milk slipping from between your lips.

You didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by Tony’s announcement and yet Bucky’s palms were starting to sweat and his breaths were coming in a bit harsher than usual. He was a world class assassin, could take out a moving target from a mile away, was exceptionally calm under pressure to the point where he felt more at peace with the handle of a knife nestled in his grip than a cup of tea. That all went out the window when you were involved.

“What makes you so sure it’s a stalker and not some overly enthusiastic fan?” Clint piped up from the couch, eyes still glued on his book.

Bucky nodded to himself, attempting to bring his heart rate back to a normal pace before you could pick up on it.

Clint was right. The avengers had fans. It wasn’t a surprise that a few of them could take things a little too far. Steve has been bombarded for pictures while trying to pick up pizza from his favorite shop in Brooklyn more than once and Parker had to give hell to a few male fans not too long ago who had tried to push a girl down while she was asking politely for his autograph.

Luckily, Bucky wasn’t usually on the receiving ends of those sorts of things. The public still had a complicated relationship with the Winter Soldier, but he didn’t much mind. He was one of the few of the team who could still walk down the street without being bothered for pictures. Even without his metal arm in view, pedestrians still parted like the red sea when he walked in their direction. People would turn away, cower from him if they accidentally made eye contact. Some of the brave ones would take his picture from a distance, careful to shut off the flash, but he noticed.

In the streets, he was left alone.

But not you. No, you were exceptionally adored by the people of New York; always stopped for photos from little girls in dress up costumes hand stitched to match your stealth suit, dozens of interview requests pouring in weekly from esteemed journalists and high school newspapers alike, your image synonymous with relief, safety, and an aura of empowerment not even your critics could touch.

It was because you were so loved by the people, Bucky couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that he was the one you let hold your hand in the quiet hours at the compound, to sleep next to you at night when the nightmares were too much, to pull that smile from your cheeks he fallen so easily for.

Your relationship was complicated, a tangled mess of something a little more than friendship, but there was no doubt in his mind how he felt for you. You’d make his heart jump every time you’d walk in the door, had this uncanny ability to make him smile even on his darkest days, and you took him as he was, unapologetically and without judgement.

You were everything to him.

Voicing it aloud was something entirely different.

He knew the world would never accept a relationship between you and him. You were too kind, too selfless and generous, and he was a monster by the public’s standard, an instrument of Hydra. So, he kept his feelings hidden far away in the back of his chest and held onto the small stolen moments he had with you. For now, it was enough.

It was well known amongst the team the connection you shared, but no one dared bring it up. Not after you nearly chewed everyone out when Sam had caught you carding your fingers in Bucky’s hair during a movie night when the explosions on the screen felt too real. You had only scooted closer to him, brought his head to lean against your chest as you raked your nails soothingly against his scalp, tossing Sam a glare whenever he so much as looked in Bucky’s direction.

It was always you and Bucky.

On missions. In the gym. Making pancakes in the morning. Binge watching on the couch ‘till three in the morning. Pulling pranks on Sam.

Racing to the other’s room in the dead of night when a scream ripped through the halls. Sitting in a folding chair in the med bay for hours on end when one of you was injured in the field. Unwilling to leave for even a moment until you knew the other was okay.

You and Bucky.

Tony pinched at the bridge of his nose and Bucky found himself drawn to the manila envelopes tucked under his arm. “No ordinary fan does shit like this.”

With that, Tony let out a heavy sigh, and pulled out a stack of photographs from the first envelope. He tossed them down the table until they spread out over the surface. Bucky froze, breath hitching in his chest as his eyes darted to the pictures; each image a picture of you in various locations, unaware of the camera.

Bucky couldn’t help but instinctively slide closer to you, his thigh brushing yours just to ground himself. He watched nervously as you glanced over the pictures curiously, eyes flickering to ones of you walking out of a cafe in Queens, one in your tactical gear where you led bystanders out of the path of whatever chaos was erupting in the streets, one of you chatting casually with Wanda with an iced coffee in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, picking up one of you on your morning jog. You were standing by a bench in central park, wrist raised as if you were about to check your heart rate when something caught your attention. Your eyes stared in the direction of the camera, but you hadn’t seen it, just a little too far to the left.

There were dozens more. All from over the last three years since you’d joined the Avengers.

“How did you get these?” Nat asked, holding up a picture of you wearing that teal blouse that always seemed to make Bucky’s heart stop as you took a picture with a fan on the street, oblivious to the photographer behind this particular photo.

“Special delivery straight to my office,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “No return address, of course.”

Bucky found his eyes caught on a photo of you walking down an empty side street in Brooklyn, dressed casually in blue jeans ripped at the knees, a grey knit sweater, and a smile thrown over your shoulder as you looked behind you to something outside of the camera’s range. Bucky remembered that day well. You were looking at him. It was the first day he had agreed to let you drag him to the coffee shop you’d been telling him about for months.

“Oh, that’s not all,” Tony grumbled, pulling Bucky from his trance as he disbursed a second wave of evidence. This time, handwritten letters in thick black ink.

Bucky scooped up one of the dozens of crinkled papers. He began to read aloud, “Today I saw you by your favorite bagel shop in Queens. Each day you grow more beautiful and I stop to wonder if you’re not Aphrodite herself. You were wearing that yellow sundress you know that I love and I bought you sunflowers to match. You’ll find these with your captors’ assistant—” Bucky shook his head. “Captors?”

“Must be us,” Steve said as he started to read one of the letters himself. “It’s signed ‘with all my love, Eros.’”

“This asshole calls himself Eros?” Sam scoffed. “What kind of a name is that?”

“The Greek god of lust,” Nat replied casually and you laughed under your breath. Only Bucky seemed to notice. He couldn’t understand why his stomach was twisting into knots and you were seemingly unaffected by this.

“I’ve got everyone working on finding this freak,” Tony said, gathering up the photographs and letters. “We’ll find him, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

You only shrugged and finished eating your cereal, sending Bucky a wink that didn’t ease the tension in his gut.

After the team had disbursed and only you and Bucky remained at the table, even long after you’d both finished your breakfast, he finally gained the courage to ask, “how are you so calm about this?”

You smiled, your hand brushing over his shoulder, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It was a soothing motion you had grown to do for him over the years and Bucky leaned into it subconsciously. You had a way of easing him before he could realize what you were doing.

“I’ve known about Eros for years,” you admitted. Bucky narrowed his eyes in shock. “He’s been sending me letters since I became more public as an Agent. I knew him back when I was living in Queens before I joined the Avengers, before I met you, too.”

You must have noticed the flash of panic across his face because you reached up and brushed a hair from his eyes, smiling sweetly at him, enough to unravel the knots in his stomach.

“He’s harmless, Buck,” you said and he wished he could believe you. “I brought it to the local PD when he first showed up and they said they’d seen this stuff a million times. Men like this are cowards and they get off on appreciating from afar. He’ll never act on his delusional affection for me. Besides, I’m a highly skilled Agent of Shield and I live in a glorified dormitory for superheroes. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Bucky nodded as you carded your fingers through his hair. As an exhale left his lips, you stood up to wash both of your dishes. Bucky watched you as you hummed to yourself, dipping the bowls in the soapy water, and he tried to convince himself that you were right, that this Eros would never make a move on you, that it would only every amount to creepy photographs and love letters.

He should have listened to his gut.

***

Bucky sat across from you, huddled in the corner of the small family owned café in Brooklyn you loved so much. Adorned in an oversized sweatshirt and your hair tucked back into a bun at the base of your neck, a few strands falling out to frame your face, and a pair of sunglasses in hopes to conceal your identity, you blew carefully on the surface of your tea. The steam wavered slightly and you crinkled your nose as you took a sip.

Bucky smiled to himself, adjusting the rim of his baseball cap and glancing over his shoulder at the hustle of commotion coming from the kitchen. Just a black coffee for himself, he didn’t pay much mind to the scalding temperature as it passed his lips, too transfixed in the way your eyes shifted, a gentle smile curving against your cheeks, as you watched an older couple settling down at the table off of Bucky’s left.

It was your tradition; one you insisted could not be postponed even with Eros lingering over your shoulder. It was nothing new, you told Bucky. It wasn’t going to get in the way of your weekly Sunday morning tea and coffee in Brooklyn. It wasn’t always this shop and it wasn’t always on Sundays in the weeks your missions interfered, but you had insisted it was important to keep up with. You wanted to make sure Bucky felt at home in Brooklyn again, felt safe to be out in the streets, and he appreciated that more than you knew.

When both cups had been drained and the server had stopped by to retrieve the empty mugs, Bucky slid a few dollars onto the table and followed you to the door. It had been a while since the two of you had a genuine day off and Eros was virtually silent for the time being, so you convinced him to take the longer route back to the tower. Bucky was keen to do just about anything you asked of him.

So, as you led him through the streets of New York, purposely taking turns onto the less crowded sidewalks, you told him about Sam’s latest prank he planned to pull, giving him a warning Bucky was sure Sam would not appreciate, though you only giggled to yourself and held your pointer finger over your lips to hush him. You told him about your encounter with a little girl asking for your autograph while you were on your morning run and the sunrise you’d had the privilege of seeing.

As you passed a group of kids playing basketball in a small parking lot, you asked for the third time in as many weeks if was absolutely sure he didn’t want to come do a mentor day with you at the Boys and Girls Club.

“The kids would really love you, Buck,” you said sincerely and Bucky knew you truly did believe it, though he struggled to find the truth it in himself.

“Steve’s got me trying to train the new recruits in hand to hand, so I won’t be able to make it this time, doll. I’m sorry,” Bucky muttered out, pressing his lips out into an apologetic smile.

It was a bullshit excuse, one he’d given before, though you never called him out on it. You knew him well enough to understand he didn’t trust himself enough to be around kids, to be a role model when he could hardly stand to look at his own reflection in the mirror.

So when your hand snaked into his, curling against hard metal as you walked, Bucky’s heart nearly skipped a beat. He never gave you enough credit for how perceptive you were. You just smiled up at him, leaning your head on his shoulder for the smallest of moments, and the gesture told him everything he needed to hear.

That you understood. That you were there for him. That you’d wait until he was ready. That it was okay to take his time.

A light squeeze in his hand and you tugged him out of the way of a runner he almost didn’t see coming. It wasn’t the first time you held his hand in public, but it was the first time you didn’t let go after a few paces. It wasn’t a stolen moment captured before anyone else could see or do double take in your direction. Ten paces later and you hadn’t let go. One block. Two blocks. Nearly ten blocks later and your hand still set carefully in his.

He had never wished his left arm could feel more than he did right now. He could sense the pressure, articulate the warmth of your palm, feel the trace of your thumb back and forth against his soothingly as you walked, but it read like data. He wondered if you’d let him switch to your other side but he was too afraid that maybe just acknowledging it would be enough to make it stop and he couldn’t risk it.

“But, uh,” Bucky cleared his throat nervously, “maybe you’d want to help me lead this training Monday morning for the rookies?”

He grimaced as the words left his tongue, already berating himself for taking nearly ten minutes of silence just to work up the courage to ask. Your hand in his was making him light-headed and he swore you could just feel the absolute abhorrent rate of his heart beat. When he looked over at you, he was relieved to find your lips curving up into your cheeks.

“Of course! I will absolutely be there!” you grinned wildly, enough to make Bucky’s stomach weak. “You know I love kicking the ass of some of those cocky agents fresh out the academy who think they own the place.”

Bucky chuckled under his breath, nodding fondly as he remembered the time you had an arrogant frat boy on his back within three seconds of sparring.

He paused at the red light, waiting for the crosswalk to signal for them to pass, when he noticed your face light up at the sight of the ice cream shop you had told him about a few weeks ago. Your smile was so infectious, Bucky didn’t even realize the grin on his face until his cheeks started to hurt.

“Oh Bucky, we have to go!” you exclaimed giddily, your other hand wrapping around your waist to hold onto his forearm. You were practically jumping with joy and Bucky felt his heart swell. The very second the crosswalk lit green, you began tugging him towards the shop and Bucky dragged his feet just for the drama of it, chuckling under his breath as you used your entire body weight against him.

“Bucky, come on!” you laughed, and Bucky realized he hadn’t felt that carefree in years.

The moment he gave in, you dragged him up to the line extending out the door, your hand still planted firmly in his. You grinned up at him, excited in almost a child-like state that Bucky couldn’t seem to get enough of it. You were in the middle of listing your top ten favorite flavors when a voice behind him caught his attention.

“Is that Y/n Y/l/n and the Winter Soldier?”

Bucky’s whole body stiffened. Being recognized in public never went well for him.

“Can’t be,” a second voice scoffed, also male, though a bit deeper in tone. They were further back in the line than Bucky realized, his super solider senses picking up what you didn’t readily hear yourself. “Why the hell would a dime like that be on a date with a psychopath?”

Bucky swallowed thickly and he hadn’t noticed your eyes catch up at him worryingly.

“Bucky? Are you alright?” you glanced back down the line and though you couldn’t find any threats. You could still sense his entire body tensing and you ran your hand soothingly along his arm in hopes draw away some of the strain. You knew him too well.

“Holy shit, it totally is,” the first voice echoed, a snicker in his voice as he must have caught sight of you looking back in their direction. “Wonder if she feels sorry for him...”

“You think she’s pity fucked him yet?”

Bucky visibly winced, recoiling at the man’s taunt as they snickered behind him and he could only vaguely register you running your fingers up and down his arm, the other gripping tightly to his hand.

A group of four exited the line and the two men were suddenly standing directly behind Bucky. He could hear them struggle to hold their laughs under their breath, swatting at one another to shut the other up with no success.

“Can’t believe they let him in the same team as Captain America. Didn’t know we were letting war criminals become superheroes these days,” one deeper voice went on in a hushed whisper, unable to stop himself and his friend laughed in response. Bucky felt you take in a deep breath, your grip on his hand tightening and he knew you heard.

“It’s fine, Y/n. Just ignore them,” Bucky implored, whispering low enough so only you could hear him. You shook your head, gritting at your teeth, though you did your best to do as he asked, despite how difficult these men made it.

“How many people as he killed again?”

“How the hell isn’t he locked up in a cell right now?”

“Can’t imagine why she would want to be anywhere near that freak...”

“Should probably have him committed to a mental state with the fucked up mess in his head.”

“Hydra should’ve just spared us all and killed him when they had the chance.”

That was the final straw.

Bucky winced as you spun around on your heels, dropping his hand and shoving yours hard into the man’s chest. He stumbled back a few paces and fell straight to the sidewalk.

“You wanna say that again, asshole?” you spat as the man cowered back and you stalked toward him, his friend hulling quickly him up to his feet. “You wanna talk shit about a decorated Sergeant of the United States Army?”

“N-No! Sorry ma’am!” the boy stammered out, couldn’t have been any older than twenty. Flip flops, cargo shorts, a university t-shirt. He was practically a child.

Bucky watched as cell phones sprung up from everyone in line, trained on you, as they began to recognize who you were. A few faces turned in Bucky’s direction, eyes wide in realization as many took a cautious step away from him, and he did his best to hide his face with the collar of his jacket.

He didn’t know how it happened, but suddenly reporters were swarming around the shop, bystanders shoved out of the way for cameras and microphones. The two men scrambled away and ran down the street, leaving you and Bucky at the center of flashing lights and microphones shoved in your faces.

Bucky reached out for you in the chaos, unconsciously searching for your hand. His heart only seemed to calm for a moment when he felt you grip the flesh of his right hand when the reporters started shouting questions over top of one another.

“Y/n! Y/n!”

“Tell us Agent Y/l/n, when did you start dating the Winter Soldier!”

“How long have you been together!”

“What does Captain America think!”

“What’s that arm like in bed!”

Bucky yanked you against his chest, guarding you from the camera flashes as you pushed your face into the crook of his jacket. Left arm out ahead of him acting as a shield, he attempted to push forward into the mass of reporters blocking your path but was met with too much resistance. There was no consideration to force them from his path, his public image already a nightmare without adding assaulting a journalist to the list.

The questions kept coming at you a mile a minute, and to Bucky’s relief you were able to ignore them. Until they started asking questions of a different nature.

“What are your thoughts on his dozens of war crimes!”

“Do you trust his affiliation to the Avengers!”

“What about his involvement in the attack on D.C.!”

“Do you believe he could still be working for Hydra!”

A growl ripped through you unlike Bucky had ever heard and you spun around to face the reporters, unveiling yourself from Bucky’s grasp as you shoved a hand to the microphones, swatting them away.

“Enough!” you shouted and the reporters silenced immediately. Your hand was still tied to his, gripping it tight enough to remind him you were still there even as he stood a step behind you. “You have no goddamn right to talk about him like that! James Barnes is a veteran who gave his life in service of this country! He was a prisoner of war for decades and has gone through more in his lifetime than any you could begin to imagine! He’s kind and selfless and the best man I know, so show some goddamn respect!”

With that, you whipped back around, hair flipping over your shoulders as you tugged Bucky away from the flashing cameras and stunned mass of reporters. They didn’t attempt to follow you after that.

The walk back to the tower was silent, though Bucky could feel you squeeze his hand every few paces, a careful glance up to his face. He didn’t know how to react. He knew you cared for him, he’d be a fool not to know that by now, but the way you defended him so fiercely, without even a second thought, made his legs feel weak. That footage would air on every news outlet in the city that night.

The only problem was that Eros would see it, too. Though, neither of you knew that quite yet.

***

Bucky first knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up to Monday morning training with the recruits. He had reminded you just an hour earlier when you slipped out from his bed to carefully tread back to your room for your running clothes. You had scoffed at him, feigning offense that he would even suggest you’d forget. He could still feel your fingers tickling over the bare of his back as he had curled up into the pillow for an extra hour of sleep. You promised you’d be back in time for the training.

Ten minutes past nine and still no sign of you, Bucky let out a heavy sigh and shouted for the recruits to follow him to the sparring ring.

Nearly two hours of training later, sweat dripping down his brow and a pleasant ache in his muscles, and you had yet you walk through the door.

He did his best to focus on the training, providing insight into the agent’s hand-to-hand formations and demonstrating techniques he had learned in his decades of combat. It proved rather difficult when an agent lingering near the back grumbled snide comments at every opportunity; everything ranging from Bucky’s role at an instructor to being personally offended that you weren’t here just for him to ogle at the way you looked in your workout leggings. It took most of Bucky’s self-control to make sure he still held his punches when he faced that particular agent in the ring.

“Good work today,” Bucky grunted to the young agents as he grabbed a towel and brushed it over his face, thankful it was over. He jumped over the barriers of the ring to find the agent who had been tossing a few unfavorable lines to his friends throughout the training waiting for him.

“I thought Y/n was going to join us today,” he remarked with a spiteful tone, as if Bucky’s presence had insulted him in some way. His friends snickered behind him as they watched.

Bucky rolled his eyes, his back to the agent before he turned around. “Agent Y/l/n had something come up. Maybe you should focus on the weak points in your stance rather than objectifying the best agent we have.”

A quick jag to the agent’s left side, one to his collarbone, and another to his right knee and the agent doubled over. His friends rushed forward to help him back up and Bucky chuckled to himself, exiting the gym before word got to Steve that he stepped out of line with another arrogant agent.

Bucky walked out into the kitchen for a glass of water to find the entire team gathered around the table. He paused at the threshold of the room as every pair of eyes landed on him. Tony stood at the end of the table, a solemn look upon his face and a heavy manila envelope in his hand. Bucky’s stomach dropped before he took another step forward.

“Thought you might want to see this first,” Tony said carefully and handed Bucky the envelope. Bucky stared at it for a moment, studying the folder marked with ‘To the Avengers, Signed Eros’ on the front, no return address, before he glanced back up to the team. Tony could only clench his jaw, sink down into the chair as his hand brushed over his mouth.

Trembling hands worked at the metal clips of the envelop that suddenly felt too heavy to carry. The team watched carefully as Bucky pulled a pile of pictures from the folder.

They were dark in color, lighting dim, but Bucky could make you out upon the image clear as day. Blood trailed down the side of your face, tape pressed over your mouth, and arms tied behind your back as you were clearly struggling against restraints, parts of your body blurred in the sudden movements captured in the photograph.

Bucky could hardly breathe, his chest twisting and burning, angry tears prickling in his eyes. He dropped the first photo to the floor, flipping through the rest only to find more of the same.

Photo after photo of you wincing as the flash lit the darkened room, close ups of the wound on your head where Eros must have knocked you out, a tear in your leggings at the knee, your wrists tied to the back of the chair in painful knots, red skin burning under the rope. Wide eyes, reflection of tears on your cheeks, and Bucky dropped the rest of the photos to the ground.

Paper thin and they fell with deafening sound.

The team swarmed in, each gathering a few photos to examine, to attempt to find any kind of clue to your location through the subtleties in the background of the images, but Bucky couldn’t stand to look at them any longer. He couldn’t see you like that, vulnerable, scared. It wasn’t right, didn’t sit well upon your features. He never thought he’d have to see you so afraid.

As the team argued amongst themselves over what farfetched lead to pursue first, Bucky found himself backing out of the room. He couldn’t let himself stop and think about the moment you were taken or what Eros was doing to you at this moment or how long you had been held hostage by this psychopath before anyone even realized you were gone.

There was nothing he could do but wait. Tony had the most advanced technology available outside of Wakanda, so if anyone had a chance in finding you off of these photos alone, it was him.

So, Bucky retreated to the one place he thought might be able to ground him.

He stood outside the door to your room for nearly five minutes before he let himself turn the knob. It was cold to the touch and the door squeaked as he stepped inside, something he had grown to be cautious of in the early hours of the morning when he’d seek you out after a particularly bad nightmare. You’d let him crawl into the bed next to you and even though he’d try to keep his body at the furthest edge of your bed, you’d still find a way to curl up against him and ease away the afflictions in his mind.

Bucky swallowed back the lump in his throat as stepped further into the room, taking in the smell of your freshly washed laundry and the faint scent of the vanilla candle you burned when you read at night. Framed pictures covered your shelves in the spaces absent of your collection of books and trinkets. Imaged of the avengers in their most human qualities; some candid, laughing and blissfully unaware of the camera, some posed, arms throw around one another, the widest smiles up their faces.

Though one in particular drew his attention. It was an image of you and Bucky; a selfie he had agreed to take after much persuasion while you were on a mission in Paris together and decided to stay an extra day after you recovered your intel. The Champs-Élysées stood in the background just over Bucky’s left shoulder. You were curled up against his side, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he let his arm drape over your shoulders.

Bucky was the only one looking at the camera though, a smile curved on his pressed lips as you looked up at him, seemingly caught mid-laugh, the brightest look in your eye he’d ever seen.

He picked up the photo, holding it carefully in his hands, as a dried flower slipped out from behind the frame, falling delicately to the floor. He bent down to retrieve it, examining it in his hand for a moment until he recognized what it was from.

It was the first elaborate party he had agreed to go to after you had spent nearly an entire week begging him to come with you. If he was honest, he only gave in after Nat showed him the dress you were going to wear; long, forest green, with gemstones in the details and a neckline that was sure to kill him. Not much else could have convinced him to put on a suit and stand around at some stuffy gala to promote a public image he knew he’d never find the favor of.

He had felt a little awkward, showing up at your room to pick you up for something as fancy as this without anything to give to you. He was still a man of his time after all, so he had clipped the end of a carnation from the vase sitting in the center of the table that Wanda had picked from the garden, and handed it awkwardly to you as you opened the door. It was the first time he saw you blush.

He couldn’t believe you actually kept it. The gala was nearly a year ago.

“Buck?”

Breath caught in his throat, Bucky set the frame and the flower back on the shelf before turning around to find Steve leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey Steve.”

“We’re gonna find her,” he said, knowing exactly the train of agonizing thoughts swarming in Bucky’s mind.

“What if we don’t? What if this is it and I never told her that I--” he sucked in a breath, unable to finish the sentence aloud. “I can’t lose her, Stevie. I can’t...”

“I know,” Steve sighed. “Tony’s got everyone on this. All we can do is wait.”

Bucky nodded, but found he couldn’t seem to meet his friend’s eye. He sat on the edge of your bed, hands clenching at his knees as the bed dipped slightly when Steve took a seat next to him.

He didn’t know how long they sat there together in silence, could have been hours as far as Bucky knew. Steve’s hand would find its way onto Bucky’s shoulder every so often, just enough to offer him a light squeeze, remind him he was there when he noticed Bucky’s breathing increase a little too harshly.

Then, a subtle knock on the door and Bucky turned to find Nat standing just beyond the frame.

“Suit up. We’ve got something.”

***

Bucky woke to a blinding pulse at the back of his head. Struggling to adjust to the dim lighting of the room, he reached to the nape of his neck and touched a sticky wet substance. He didn’t need to inspect his fingers to know they’d be marked in red.

As he tried to stand, he found that he was met with a resistance in his left arm. Narrowed eyes glanced down to find his wrist secured to the wall, bound by a thick titanium band bolted into the cement.

He cursed under his breath, slumping down into the floor. He tried to think back to what had gone wrong, but his memory was hazy. He remembered enough to know that Tony’s AI had located the general vicinity Eros was holding you within a five mile radius and the team had split up to cover the most ground. Bucky took the north east quadrant on his own, despite Steve’s protests.

Whatever got him, he never saw it coming. Though, a concentrated burning in his side told him he’d been hit by a taser. Eros must have got him over the head when he was incapacitated by the electricity in his veins. A coward’s offense.

As Bucky’s eyes began to adjust to the room and he sucked in a harsh breath at what he saw.

Hand developed photographs were stung around the room in rows crossing above his head, taped against the wall, and throw along the floors. Some that he recognized from the day Tony had introduced the team to Eros, others from various locations around the city, some from before Bucky even knew you back when you were living in Queens near your cousin.

Though, there were a few, ones with dark red borders that caught his attention. Ones that made his stomach drop and left a deep unsettling ache in his chest.

Pictures of you with him.

Eros had written LIAR and TRAITOR over the images of you and Bucky in your tactical gear emerging from the helicarrier after a mission in Paris, over images of you walking next to Bucky down the busy streets back when he was sure to keep a careful distance from you, across pictures of you sitting next to Bucky in central park the day you had convinced him to start reading the Harry Potter books.

Labels of WHORE and SLUT carved upon images of you staring fondly at Bucky across a table in the café in Brooklyn you loved so much, upon images of the brief moments you had gathered his hand in yours in public, and over smiling faces as he had pretended to struggle to keep up with you on your morning jog. Stolen moments when you thought no one could see, not even Bucky.

In every image, his face was burned out with the hot edge of a lighter.

Suddenly, a sharp clicking at the door rang out into the room and Bucky recognized it as the locks unfastening. He steadied himself, back straight against the wall though he had no leverage sitting on the floor. His arm affixed to the cement didn’t allow for much else.

The door creaked open slowly and a muffled grunt echoed in from the hall. Some kind of commotion; a struggle, maybe. Bucky narrowed his eyes, craning his neck to get a better view, when the door slammed against the adjacent wall. His heart leapt at the sound, though nothing was quite like the twist of dread in his stomach at what followed.

You were thrown into the room, sliding hard on your shoulder and hip as you fell to the ground. Your arms were bound in front of you, wrists red and raw beneath the ropes, and blood dripped from the side of your face. Sweat gleamed over your skin, left in your workout gear though there was a tear at the knee, just as in the pictures he had seen earlier that day. A thick swatch of silver tape covered over your lips, muffling the groan you let out as you struggled to your feet. Otherwise, you appeared unharmed, though Bucky still struggled to catch his breath at the sight of you in chains.

A man Bucky assumed to be Eros stalked in behind you and grabbed a firm hold of your wrists, yanking you forcefully to the center of the room where he hooked the cuffs to a latch in the floor. Once secure, Eros backed away, admiring his work.

He was nothing like Bucky imagined him to be; tall, an incredibly average looking man, with thick rimmed glasses and a white button-down shirt. He looked like he had a stable job in an IT start up, albeit a maybe few social limitations, but entirely normal nonetheless. He could have been following you for years and you’d never pay him a second glance. He blended into the background with ease.

The way in which Eros watched you, a sickening smirk upon his lips, enjoying the way your breaths panted in your chest as you tried to brush the sweat from your forehead with your exposed shoulder, only to smear it further on your face.

You were on your knees, bent over to ease at the pain in your wrists. Tugging at the restraints, a heavy exhale left your lips when it didn’t budge. You slumped over onto your hip, an aura of exhaustion and defeat in your features.

Slowly, in agonizing pace, Bucky watched as you took notice of the pictures, eyes falling on the images he shared with you and a surge of panic in the hue of your iris. Your hand right hand curled into a fist to stop the sudden tremors.

Then, before Bucky could quite prepare for it, your eyes landed on him. You let out a guttural cry, though it was muffled against the tape secured over your mouth, as you tugged forcefully at the restraints. You tried to scramble towards him, but you were pulled back by the clang of the metal chain latching taunt.

His name upon your lips was subdued by the tape, your eyes wide and fearful as you looked him over. Bucky’s heart was pounding terribly in his chest, painfully so, as you winced against your bindings the more you attempted to reach him.

“Y/n, look at me. It’s okay,” Bucky urged, as the bindings on your wrist cut through and blood began to drip down to your fingertips. “We’re going to be okay, you hear me? We’re okay.”

You froze for a second, just meeting his eye and Bucky swore he saw a world of pain masked behind your irises. You shook your head subtly as eyes began to redden in the strain. You didn’t believe him. He wasn’t so sure he believed himself.

“Now the real fun can begin,” Eros grinned, stepping away from the wall as he moved to kneel by your side. His hand traced down the side of your cheek and you flinched away, shooting him a glare “Do you like the present I brought you? I thought you’d be happy I retrieved your plaything for you.”

Bucky watched as Eros stood slowly to his feet, a sinister look in his eye. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a long, black rod. He flicked the switch at the bottom and a buzzing sound filled the room, sparks of electricity bursting between the metal prongs at the end.

“Why don’t we have a little fun with him?” Eros smirked as he admired the taser. “It’s seven times the standard issue volts. Should be enough to bring down a super solider, don’t you think?”

You shook your head, words smothered by the tape over your mouth as you struggled to reach Bucky. The chains pulled you back every time.

Bucky met your eye for a moment, silently telling you he could take it, and maybe a part of him did believe that until Eros plunged the taser into his side.

His entire body tensed, slumping down to the floor, rigid, unable to control his limbs as jolts of energy eroded at his muscles. Convulsing tremors, breath caught in his lungs, he could hardly register your stifled screams. It brought him right back to the chair, to Hydra. There was no end in sight.

Then, relief as Eros pulled the taser away and the faint smelt of burnt flesh stung in Bucky’s nostrils. He laid on the floor, motionless.

“This is your hero?” Eros spat at you, nudging Bucky with the tip of his shoe, his body lifelessly slumping back down against the ground when he pulled his foot away, unable to move. “This is the asshole you've been parading around the city with? Huh? This pathetic excuse for a man? When you could be with me?!”

You screamed against the tape, tears brimming in your eyes as Eros brought the taser down to small stretch of skin exposed on Bucky’s collarbone. There wasn’t even a moment to prepare himself before the electricity surged through him again, rendering him completely helpless to the charge. Muscles stiff, body twitching, eyes rolling behind his head, and all he could focus on was your muffled cries.

Eros didn’t let up until he had grown tired of hearing you cry for another man and released Bucky from the electric waves in his veins. He crossed the room and ripped the tape from your mouth. You recoiled at the sudden stinging, clenching your jaw as red marks were left behind on your skin.

Bucky panted, attempting to catch his breath as he slowly hulled himself back to a sitting position. His muscles were too weak, he could barely lift his flesh arm. He weighed thousands of pounds, and his eyes were falling heavy. Brain too fuzzy.

“What do you want with him?” you demanded, voice broken and raw, as your eyes quickly flashed down to Bucky; a lifetime of guilt and apologies swimming in your eyes that took him off guard.

“The question isn’t what I want with him,” Eros responded, “but rather, what you want from him that matters here.”

You narrowed your eyes, glancing up at Eros for only a moment. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Eros shrugged, though there was a coy expression in his lips. “I need you to convince me he won’t come between us. I have seen the way he watches you. I know of his feelings for you. He’s corrupting you, my love; convinced you that he’s some kind of hero when we all know what he truly is. He’s trying to keep us apart; don’t you see that? I can't let that happen to us. I won’t let him take you from me.”

With that, Eros reached into a drawer nestled in the corner of the room and pulled out a handgun. You swallowed thickly, exchanging a nervous glance with Bucky. Eros cocked the gun, clicked off the safety, and in one foul movement, aimed the barrel right at Bucky’s head. Your eyes blew wide as a gasp left your breath.

Eros smirked. “I’m going to free him of us for good. “

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw as an unsteady breath came in through his nose, preparing for the worst, when he heard you scream.

“NO!”

Eros raised an eyebrow, a twitch in his eye as he stared at you. He hadn’t expected that. He wanted you to fall into his fantasy, to be the woman he made you out to be, who would be relieved that he had destroyed the man who was keeping you from him.

Bucky opened his eyes again, watching the exchange between you and Eros; the way your hands trembled as you closed them into fists, the displeased look upon Eros’ face.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t,” Eros grumbled.

Then, your face hardened, a seeming realization passing over you that Bucky didn’t catch onto. You took in an even breath, straightening your shoulders as you turned to face Eros, a purse in your lips as you glanced over Bucky from the corner of your eye.

“Don’t you want the satisfaction that I chose you over him?” you said breathily and Eros narrowed his eyes, waiting for you to continue. You licked at your lips, keeping your eyes trained on Eros. “There’s no reason to kill him. He's not worth the bullet. He’s not worth anything.”

Bucky swallowed back the bile in this throat, an awful pang in his stomach. He knew you were feeding into the man’s fantasy to bide time but hearing the words come from you, in your voice, hurt more than Bucky was able to hide. Eros must have noticed the way Bucky’s eyes darted to the ground and he sneered, urging you on.

“He’s nothing to me. Nothing,” you pressed, urgency in your voice as Eros took another step in Bucky’s direction, gun still aimed at his head. Your eyes widened as Bucky felt the cool metal of the barrel against his temple. “I was- I was using him! He’s nothing but something to pass the time with. You think I would actually want to be with him? An ex-Hydra hitman with a fucked up brain who can’t even get through a night without crawling into my bed? He’s practically a child. I have no interest in babysitting a grown man.”

A grin tugged at Eros’ lips and he let the barrel of his gun drop just enough for an audible exhale of relief to pass over your lips. Bucky clenched at his jaw, muscles aching in the effort. It didn’t matter how many times he told himself you were lying, that you’d never think those things of him, the pain in his chest only seemed to grow.

“Tell him how you really feel,” Eros demanded.

You didn’t respond, though Bucky could feel your eyes on him, begging him to look at you, but he couldn’t find the strength. His name passed over your lips, a breath so quiet he was sure not even Eros could hear it. He had always cherished the way his name came from your voice, like it was something precious, something that could be loved, adored. But now, it was broken, afraid, aching for a forgiveness he had absolved before the words had even left your tongue.

“Say it to his face!”

Harsh hands took a tight hold of Bucky’s hair, sharp pain in his scalp, yanking him up to meet your eye despite his protests. Bucky could do nothing to fight against him, limbs too weak from the remnants of electricity in his muscles. Eros hulled him like a rag doll, gun pressed up into Bucky’s throat. He tried to swallow, but found it too restricted by the barrel.

Your eyes were wide, fear dilating your pupils, unable to speak. Until the echo of the safety clicking off pierced through the silence of the room.

“You mean nothing to me.”

The words spilled from your lips, barely above a whisper. Bucky’s heart ached as you looked him dead in the eye, willing the emotion from your face as you put on the façade for Eros he so craved.

“I don’t want you. I could never want you,” you continued, struggling to keep your voice flat.

“Good, good,” Eros urged you on.

“You’re weak and- and pathetic.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes and Bucky tried to find a way to tell you he knew, that it was okay, that he understood why you were saying what you did, that he could handle it even if it stung, even if the words lingered in the back of his head after this was all over.

These words were never meant to come from you. He'd heard them before, on the streets from strangers, from the men at Hydra, in his own head. He knows these words well. He never wanted to imagine what they’d sound like in your voice, even if you only spoke them to save his life.

“Keep going,” Eros purred, readjusting his grip in Bucky’s hair, forcing him to wince at the sting in his scalp. “You know exactly what to say.”

You paused, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“You’re a monster. You’re broken and irredeemable and you will never be good enough for me.” Your voice cracked as you spoke the words you had once sworn so adamantly against. You had spent months reminding him at every opportunity that he was more than what Hydra made him, that he was worthy of love, that he was a good man with a kind heart who was dealt the worst cards imaginable.

It felt like all of that was being wiped away in a matter of minutes.

Eros released Bucky’s hair long enough to cross the room to kneel down by your side, his hand jutting out to grab a firm hold of your chin, yanking you to face him. He glared at the tears falling down the sides of your face like they had offended him. A snarl slipped past his lips.

“I don’t believe you,” he spat, shoving you back to the ground.

Eros had crossed the plane of the room before Bucky could realize what was happening and he turned on the television, sliding in a VHS tape to the opening at the bottom. Bucky watched you carefully, taking note of the way you couldn’t look in his direction, eyes focused on the floor.

The white and grey fuzz in on the screen soon transitioned into an image of you standing in front of a series of microphones. Bucky narrowed his eyes, watching as Eros hit play and your voice echoed through the room. It was from the day you had defended Bucky to the journalists in front of the ice cream shop. They played iPhone footage a bystander captured of you shoving the college kid out of the line after he and his friend took their comments a step too far, then switched to your impromptu press conference.

“He’s kind and selfless and the best man I know-” your voice rang out before Eros hit pause, rewinding it again.

“He’s kind and selfless and the best man I know-”

You winced at every line; every scratch of the tape as it rewound to play again. Eros stood with his hands crossed over his chest, a rage building in his eye with every word. He paused the recording and Bucky caught sight of the way your hand clasped into his came into view in the bottom corner of the screen in between transitions in the chyron.

“Does that look like a woman who believes an ounce of the bullshit you just tried to push off on me!” Eros roared, shoving the tv off the stand and it fell to the ground with a thud heavy enough for Bucky to wince. The screen cracked, jets of green and blue obstructing the image of the tape until it flickered and faded to black.

“He’s manipulating you! Don’t you see that!?” Eros crossed the room, yanking the gun from his jeans once again and aiming it in Bucky’s direction.

“No! Please, I’ll do anything!” you begged, a sob cracking in your voice as you threw aside all pretenses of the façade. “I’ll- I’ll stay with you! I won’t try to run! Just, please, don’t hurt him!”

“Pathetic,” Eros spat, kicking away your hand as you reached for him. “You have no idea what he’s done to you!”

Eros straightened his back, a steady breath in as he adjusted the positioning of his weapon, clicking back the safety. “Once he’s gone, you’ll see.”

Bucky was only able to meet your eye for a moment before the deafening sound of the gunfire rang through the encased space. There was a terrible ache in his stomach, though he found he couldn’t quite focus on that with you screaming just a few feet away from him, tears falling down your face as you yanked against the chains binding you to the floor.

He only stared at you, watching intently as a ringing buzzed his in ears, muffling your cries. He wondered briefly why you were so upset when his right hand reached to touch the pain in his stomach and his fingers were coated in blood. Bringing his hand out in front of him, he examined the red glistening against his skin and his vision started to blur.

He slumped down onto his back, a faint chuckling registering as Eros crouched over him. Bucky could hardly keep his eyes open and even through his haze, he knew your face was the last thing he wanted to see when the darkness took him in; the tender look behind your eyes he had come to adore, the curve of your nose, the faded scar on your forehead from your first mission together, the hue of your lips. He just needed to see you one last time.

Bucky turned his head away from Eros to find your eyes bloodshot in red, blood oozing from your wrists, as you desperately tried to reach him with no avail. Tears streamed down your face and you were screaming, words he couldn’t quite understand, as he felt the cool edge of a barrel press to his temple. Eros smirked.

Then suddenly, a loud bang and Bucky watched hazily as your attention diverted to the door. A second gunshot rang out and Eros was suddenly on the floor.

Bucky’s lids were falling too heavy, he could hardly make out the sound of at least four sets of footsteps racing into the room. As he struggled to push his eyes open, he found a blur of red hair, hands working at the cuff on his left wrist with a laser.

His chest felt heavy. Each breath harder to take in. He let his eyes fall shut.

Then, he was being shaken forcefully, his left arm fallen to his side away from the wall, and he jolted his eyes open again to find you hovering over him. Steve stood just above your shoulder attempting to draw you away gently, though you clung onto Bucky with all you had.

Your hands gripped into his jacket, tears falling into his suit.

“Don’t do this! Don’t leave me! P-Please, Bucky! I need you to- to stay awake... Please!” you sobbed and Bucky wanted nothing more than to reach up and brush his hand over the side of your face, capturing the tears with his thumb as they fell, but his arm was too heavy. He couldn’t lift it.

He tried to nod, to tell you he’d do anything and everything you asked, but instead, his lids began to fall. The last thing he saw was Steve lunging down to scoop you into his arms as you kicked and screamed against him, desperate to throw yourself back towards Bucky.

Hands gripped under his body and then, he was floating.

***

Bucky woke to an influx of white light and a steady, high pitched beeping. He groaned, squinting his eyes as he attempted to adjust to the room, only to recognize it as the med bay of the avenger's compound. A quick glance to his left and he saw the red line on the monitor displaying his heart rhythm. To his right, you sat curled up in a chair, your hand grasping his as you slept and Bucky could hear the beeping pick up in pace as he finally took notice of your intertwined fingers.

He sank back into his bed, a semblance of relief passing over him as he let his thumb brush over your hand. Your nose scrunched in your sleep, adjusting your position in this chair Bucky could only wonder how you’d been able to find rest in. The days Bucky found himself in your position, he’d be leaning so far over the bed, he’d practically be on top of you just trying to find a position that didn’t kill his back.

He barely even noticed the lingering ache in his stomach when he looked at you.

“She’s been here for two days.”

Steve stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as his lips curved into a soft smile. Bucky exhaled, nodding. He should have known. At least someone convinced you to shower and put on some fresh clothes. Cho must have wrapped your wrists as well and attended to the wound on your head. It brought him some peace to know you had been looked after while he slept.

“What happened?” he asked groggily, his voice raspier than he realized. His left hand ghosted over the bandages wrapped around his stomach.

Steve sighed, stepping further into the room, his arms folding over his chest. “Red Wing caught sight of you through a small crack in the foundation of the wall and alerted us to your coordinates, but we were too late. By the time we heard the gunshot, we had just entered the building. Eros was leaning over you, had a gun to the side of your head, and Nat didn’t hesitate to take the shot. Sam untied Y/n and... Buck, you should have seen her. I could barely get her away from you long enough for Sam and Clint to hull you out to the quinjet. She was inconsolable. She really thought you were gone. We... we all did for a minute there.”

Bucky nodded eyes flickering over to you, a semblance of a smile as he memorized the way your hair brushed over your cheek, lips twitching in your sleep. You looked so peaceful like that. He couldn’t imagine being the source of your pain.

“You should tell her how you feel.”

Bucky swallowed, not daring to look Steve in the eye, though he didn’t bother denying it.

“I’ve seen a lot in my time, Buck,” Steve continued, “but, the look on her face when Clint and Sam carried you away, the way she fought me, just trying to get back to you... it’s not something I will easily forget. It was the look of someone who lost everything.”

“What if it changes things?”

“Isn’t that the point?” Steve smiled and he nodded in your direction. Bucky followed his eyes to find you stirring in the chair, your free arm stretching high above your head as you yawned. When Bucky looked back to ask Steve what he should say, he was already gone. So, Bucky found himself waiting anxiously, heart monitor beeping a little faster, as you opened your eyes.

It took a moment before you realized he was awake. Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line, the ends curving up ever so slightly. The shades of your eyes fell upon him and your entire body froze. You sucked in a gasp, and suddenly your breaths were coming in too fast, eyes darting across his face as they blurred in glossy tears.

“I’m okay,” Bucky said carefully, wincing at how broken his voice came out. He squeezed your hand as you brushed the tears from your cheeks. “Y/n, I’m fine, doll. Please don’t cry...”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky... I’m so sorry,” you cried and Bucky felt a horrible ache in his heart. He tugged on your intertwined hand until he could pull you to the side of the bed, bringing you close enough to hold you against his side. Despite the pain in his abdomen, he adjusted himself on the bed, moving over to provide you the room to lay next to him.

“Please don’t apologize, doll, I’m doing just fine,” Bucky soothed as you curled up against him, your face buried in the crook of his neck and he could feel the wet of your tears drip onto his skin.

“He almost killed you, Buck. After- after all those horrible things I said to you,” you shook your head against him, unable to hear him. He’d been in your place too many times, been on the end of an inescapable misplaced guilt and self-loathing, and you’d always known what to say to bring him back. He hoped he could provide even an ounce of that for you.

“I know you didn’t mean ‘em, sweetheart,” Bucky said sincerely, brushing his hand over your forehead to draw the hair away from your eyes.

“But I said them, Buck. I said them and- and then you almost died! It coulda been the last things you heard me say and you didn’t- you didn’t deserve that.”

“Y/n...”

“I love you,” you confessed suddenly and Bucky swore his heart fully stopped. You pulled yourself up from his chest, just enough to meet his eye. You swallowed, your eyes capturing his and he swore he saw a flicker of a smile upon your tear stained lips.

“I am fully, and honestly, in love with you,” you continued, a brightness forming behind your eyes as you spoke that took Bucky’s breath away. “You are everything to me. You’re my best friend, Buck, and I don’t ever want to spend a day without you. I’m... I’m sorry it took until my deranged stalker nearly killed us to tell you that.”

Bucky surprised himself when a chuckle escaped past his lips, easing the tension in your face. You laughed back, the absurdity of the situation finally catching up with both of you. Bucky reached forward, his hand cupping around the side of your face, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

“You know I feel the same way, don’t you?” he asked nervously. “I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you.”

“Really?” you grinned and the genuine shock upon your face only seemed to make Bucky’s stomach weaker. His cheeks started to hurt from smiling. It was a new feeling.

“Sam said I’ve been obvious about it, honestly.”

“Well what does Sam know anyway?” you teased, and even if Bucky’s heart was already filled to capacity, it managed to swell a little more.

Your laugh lingered a little longer, prolonging into the silence that followed, and Bucky’s eyes flickered down to your lips. The gentle beeping over his head pulsed quicker as you leaned in closer to him, eyes darting up to his when he felt the warmth of your breath on his cheeks. With a nod so subtle he wasn’t sure you had seen it, you closed the space between you and then your lips were on his.

Warmer, softer, than he imagined; you tasted of the mocha creamer you drowned your coffee in. Bucky’s hand snaked up into your hair, pulling flush you against him as he bit and sucked at your lips, do desperate to have you near. He grunted as your weight fell onto his wound and you yelped, laughing as you tried to pull yourself off of him, though he wouldn’t budge. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

“What in the-”

You jumped off of Bucky, wiping your lips as your cheeks flushed red. Bucky chuckled, the ache lingering in his stomach as he glanced between Banner standing in the doorway and you attempting to hide red burning in your face.

“Maybe take off the heart monitor next time, kids,” Banner snickered, shaking his head with a massive grin as he disappeared down the hall again.

It only took one glance over in your direction before your lips were on his again, your body curled up against his side, careful of the wound on the left side of his torso, as he ran his hand along your back. You gripped at his right hand and pulled the heart monitor from his finger, tossing it to the floor. The beeping ceased and Bucky laughed against your lips.

“Think you can survive this, Sarge?” you panted as you peppered kisses along his jaw line.

“I’ve survived a lot in my life. I’m sure I’ll be okay,” Bucky grinned, cupping the sides of your face to bring you back to his lips. He pressed a simple, chaste kiss to your mouth before he pulled back, just enough to memorize the swollen look of your lips and the loving daze in your eye. “But, if this takes me out, I think I’m okay with that.”

“Shut up,” you giggled pushing forward to kiss him again and he didn’t mind one bit.

“You and me, doll. We’re going to be okay,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, drinking you in and reveling in the feel of you. It was heaven. It was home.

You pulled back for only a second, lips red and flushed, and hands grazing over the sides of his face. He’d never seen eyes as warm and loving as yours. You nodded with a smile beaming on your face.

“We’re going to be okay.”

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #marvel #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #reader insert #my writing #bucky fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #yourmarvelousthoughtswc

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ididntneedanewfandom · 3 years

Text

BkDk week in collaboration with @paraniva-art !

Day 1 - sweaters Day 2 - sick Day 3 - ice skates Day 4 - scarves

and now day 5 - Sub-Zero

__________________

"I think you should sit this one out."

Izuku doesn't turn to look at Kacchan and keeps putting on his costume. He flexes his hands in his fingerless gloves, pulling them on tight.

"Did you hear me, nerd?" Kacchan asks, his voice just a tiny little bit louder but still controlled.

"I heard you," Izuku says, still not looking at him. "I'm going. And I don't want to argue about it."

He can hear Kacchan's boots on the tiled floor of the changing room, can practically feel him standing there, just behind him. It's not an effect from one of his quirks; he's just that closely attuned to Kacchan's body. He still doesn't turn around.

"Izuku." His voice is a whisper now, but the urgency behind it is still rising. "Last time--"

Izuku slams his locker shut and takes a shaky breath before finally facing Kacchan. A few years back, he used to look up at him, literally and figuratively. No more. They're eye to eye, now. Side by side. Partners in every possible way. And while he understands that Kacchan is only thinking of him, it annoys the hell out of him that he wants to protect him from this.

"Last time I still thought I could reach him," he says, and the words are as bitter as the memory that left a hand-shaped burn scar on him. "I promise you, I have no such illusions left."

Kacchan's grim expression twists into a grimace. He reaches out, lays his hand on Izuku's chest, and despite the costume, Izuku knows Kacchan's hand covers the scar almost exactly. He's always touching it, as though he could erase it with enough caresses.

"I believe you. That's exactly why I think it'd be better if you didn't come."

An announcement comes over the P.A. system before Izuku can reply; everyone going is expected outside now. They walk out together and join the rest of the raid party. In the van, Kacchan's shoulder remains pressed against Izuku's the entire time.

It's a complete and utter shit show.

Three fucking months of preparing for this. Two dozen full-fledged heroes, plus a bunch of sidekicks--no interns, though, U.A. learned from its mistakes. Hundreds of hours spent gathering intel, following leads, putting together the puzzle pieces of a chaotic organization, if they can even call it that.

And in the end...

Katsuki grits his teeth and wipes the blood sliding down the side of his face.

In the end the exact thing he wanted to avoid happens: he goes with Deku into battle, and suddenly it's just them, facing SubZero on the other side of the battle field. Judging by the grin stretching his face, a grin that doesn't extend to his mismatched eyes, he doesn't mind the confrontation like Katsuki does. Or maybe he was hoping for it.

"If I'd known you were coming tonight, I'd have baked a cake or something," he calls out over rubble covered in ice, ashes swirling around them all from where the other big fight is happening further on, blue flames rising in the distance. "Stocked on your favorite tea, Izuku-kun. Or have you finally taken a liking to coffee? I bet you've pulled some long nights, trying to track us down."

"We didn't just try," Deku replies; the idiot, he should know better than to engage. "We did track you down."

The villain they used to know as Shouto Todoroki laughs, and in the light of the moon, his hair, bleached completely white, glows almost like silver.

"Did you? Does it count as tracking us down if we let ourselves be found? If we made sure you were fed just the right information?"

Fuck. Katsuki was beginning to suspect this was the case, but to hear it confirmed...

"Deku, please stay back," he says. "Let me take the lead on this one."

A few steps ahead of him, Deku doesn't give any hint that he heard. Lightning is coursing through his body. From where he is, Katsuki can see just the beginning of black tendrils extending from his fingertips.

SubZero laughs again. "Oh, he says 'please', now? You've trained him well, Izuku-kun. Who knew all that asshole needed to learn manners was a dick up his ass?"

Small explosions pop on either side of Katsuki from his open hands and he scowls... but it's all an act. SubZero wants to rile him up, of course. Katsuki is not going to give him the pleasure, but he can use that to his advantage. If the fucker thinks he's not thinking straight, he might make a mistake.

Which might be very useful, because there goes Deku, charging into the fight with a growl that sounds like "Shouto!"

Katsuki moves instantly, and he's just half a length behind Deku, but damn it. This was not the plan.

Everything becomes a blur.

Later, Izuku will only remember bits of pieces of this fight. Words. Impacts. He'll be grateful he doesn't remember more.

Like when Shouto, after using only his ice for a few minutes, suddenly lets out a huge blast of fire with a mocking, "After all, it's my power, isn't it, Izuku-kun?"

(He keeps calling him that and it hurts, god but it hurts.)

Like when a viciously jagged lance of ice coming straight at him impales Kacchan's side instead as he shoves Izuku out of the way.

(Damn him, they've talked about this! He wasn't supposed to ever do that again!)

Like when he stands just an arm's length from Shouto, closer than he's been in years, and his first instinct is to reach out to him and beg him to stop.

(No, no, he's not making that mistake twice. Kacchan would never forgive him.)

Like when it's finally over, when Shouto, covered in ice and ashes and blood, finally surrenders, but not without a last attack. "You realize it's all your fault, right? All the people I killed? The destruction I caused? It's all. On. You."

(And Izuku knows, god, he's always known. So he says the words that burned his mind for so many years--"I'm sorry, Shouto. I really am."--and he knocks him out with a final punch.)

Katsuki wakes up in a hospital bed. The experience is more familiar than he wishes it would be, even if it's been several years since the last time.

What's just as familiar is the body ever so carefully wrapped around his own; Katsuki pities the nurse or doctor who tried to tell Deku he couldn't get in bed with him.

Familiar, also, is the way Deku's body shakes ever so lightly, the way warm tears fall on Katsuki's shoulder.

With some effort, he raises his hand, the one connected to an IV drip, and brings it over to twist his fingers in Deku's curls. Deku keeps talking about getting his hair cut really short, or maybe getting an undercut... and Katsuki keeps finding new ways to talk him out of it.

Deku raises his head at the small touch, dislodging Katsuki's hand. He rests it on Deku's shoulder instead.

"You're an idiot," are Deku's first words to him.

Katsuki grins at him. Something pulls at the skin on his cheek; looks like he's got stitches.

"Right back at you," he says, quietly because his throat is parched. His grin fades as he asks, even more softly, "Is it over?"

Deku nods solemnly. "Yeah. It's done."

His eyes fill up with tears again. Ignoring the pain in his side, Katsuki draws him closer and holds him tight. He's never going to let go.

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odekiisu · 4 years

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Fractions of Echo - VI - The Saga of Captain Rex’s Hair, Part the Second

The campaign had already been going on for far too long, and the men were exhausted. Apparently, the Captain and the Commander had somehow gotten pinned down at the bottom of a canyon with a small squad of troopers, with no way out that didn’t involve having to shoot their way through a whole battalion of clankers. They were stuck there for the better part of two days, before an extraction team made it to their position and got them out. By the time they got back to base, dark red dust was clinging to their armour and, if Echo’s experience of the dust on this karking planet was anything to go by, getting inside crevices that it should not be able to get to. But now, word was that they were close to victory, close to finally being able to get off this miserable ball of dust.

“Echo, Fives, a word?” the Captain’s voice came from somewhere behind them. As one, they turned, and the Captain indicated that they follow him to the command tent. As soon as they entered, the Captain removed his helmet.

Echo looked at Fives. Fives looked at Echo.

“Uh, Captain?” Echo asked. “You still have… a bit of that dust in your hair.”

Captain Rex ran a hand through his hair. “No, I don’t…” he started, then realization dawned. “Ah.”

“What’s that?” the Commander asked, entering the tent behind them. “Hey Rex, your roots are showing. You told me to tell you if that ever happens.”

The Captain turned to Commander Tano with a sigh. “So much for our company’s secret then.”

The Commander’s laugh was high-pitched and sounded like bells tinkling. Echo marvelled at how young she seemed – despite rationally knowing that she was older than him and Fives, older even than Captain Rex. But in this moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off the Captain’s hair, catching the light in odd ways. It certainly wasn’t black like his own, but neither was it the pale blond he usually sported, but more a shade of reddish bronze quite similar to the colour of his skin. Echo could see how it would be hard to spot under most circumstances.

“You know,” Commander Tano confided in them, “He used to be light blond like he normally is now, but as he got older his hair got darker.”

The Captain sighed. “Could I retain at least some sense of mystery?”

“Nope,” the Commander chirped, and added with a frankly adorable crinkling of her nose, “Hair is weird. Does it normally change colour that much?”

“Uhhh…” Fives looked to Echo, who replied, “…no? Not for us at least.”

“Huh.” The Commander hopped up on the table. “Now, about that strategy you suggested…”

***

“Hey,” Hardcase said, as he and Jesse bracketed Echo and Fives on their way back to barracks from their showers – and man, how great it felt to have an actual water shower after the mess of dust that was Florrum.

“Word is you’ve solved the mystery of the good Captain’s hair,” Jesse said.

“And what if we have?” Fives smirked.

“Care to enlighten us poor souls with the truth?”

Fives looked to Echo, mischief writ clear in his eyes. “What’s in it for us?”

“How about this: whoever the victor is will pay us a cut?” Echo suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“Deal,” Hardcase replied immediately.

“Hmm… I’ll have to think on it,” Fives said. “Give us a bit to think this over?”

“Oh, sure thing, take your time,” Jesse replied.

***

Echo approached Hardcase in his barracks. Jesse was nowhere in sight – he’d timed it well. “Fives and I agreed on it, and we know you know where this barracks’ stash of contraband is.”

Hardcase straightened up. “So you’re here to make a deal?”

Echo nodded. “Yes. I’ll tell you, in exchange for a bag of sweets. No less than a proper handful.”

Hardcase held up a finger before darting to the next bunk, digging around underneath it, and coming out with an unmarked box. He grabbed a handful from it, then held it out sheepishly. “No bag. Sorry.”

Echo nodded, taking the candy and distributing them between two belt compartments. “You were right,” he told Hardcase. “The Captain’s a natural blond.”

“Ha! Knew it,” Hardcase punched the air. “How did you find out?”

“Last campaign. He took his bucket off in the command tent, it was obvious that he hadn’t cut his hair in two weeks. Blond.”

***

Fives cornered Jesse after a drill. “So, it appears I have some information you want. What are you willing to pay for it?”

Jesse considered. “I may have some moonshine secreted away somewhere.”

“Hmmm… I’d take it for me, but Echo’s not much of a drinker, and I gotta share.”

“Chocolate, then?” Jesse offered. “You ever had chocolate? Lotsa people have bet chocolate on the outcome, and if your expression is anything to go by, I’m about to get a significant increase to my stash.”

Fives smirked. “Chocolate’s fine.”

Jesse nodded. They were almost at barracks, but Jesse took a sharp right just before they reached the door, leading Fives to a seemingly random service hatch in an alcove. “Keep an eye out, would you?”

Fives turned around and watched the corridor, but this was out of the way and none of the brothers walking past along the larger hallway connecting the gyms to the barracks even so much as glanced at them.

“Here,” Jesse said, handing a bag to Fives. “This enough?”

Fives opened it to see a decent quantity of chocolates, wrapped in sparkly multicoloured foil. “Perfect.” He unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth, the smooth sweet taste almost overwhelming him. “You’re right, by the way. Captain Rex does bleach his hair.”

***

Echo and Fives strode into Rex’s rarely-used office, their faces sporting matching smirks.

“Got something for me, boys?” he asked, setting the datapad and its requisition forms aside.

Echo set a small bag down on the Captain’s desk and slid it over to him. Rex opened it up to see a small handful of individually wrapped sweets – he recognized the Chandrilan chocolates, and the small round caramels, but the rest were a mystery he’d take great pleasure in discovering for himself. “Excellent,” he told them. “Thank you. How did they react?”

“Both fell for it,” Fives said. “I’m guessing they’ll find out tonight, if they haven’t already.”

“The barracks will be in an uproar,” Rex mused.

Echo agreed. “It’ll be absolute chaos. You want a holovid?”

“I don’t think giving incriminating evidence to me is the best idea… but then again, who’s to say the file won’t become corrupted immediately after I’ve watched it?” There was a mischievous twinkle in the Captain’s eyes, same as when they’d hatched this plan together.

Fives inclined his head. “It’ll be done, sir.”

Echo cleared his throat. “A question, if I may, sir?”

“Yes?”

“Why do you dye your hair?”

Captain Rex sighed. “I used to get a lot of flak for my hair colour as a cadet, but then… I guess I got used to it. Did keep my head shaved at one point, but when it grew back three shades darker, I realized that I missed the old colour. It looked distinctive. Sharp.”

Echo nodded.

“Anything else?” the Captain asked.

“No, sir,” Echo and Fives replied in unison, and the Captain dismissed them.

“Oh, and Captain?” Echo called over his shoulder. “Be grateful we haven’t told them about your premature grey hairs.”

The door hadn’t quite closed behind them when Echo heard it swoosh open again.

“Echo, report to LD-37 first thing tomorrow. You’ve got two shifts helping sort the laundry.”

Worth it, Echo thought.

(I - II - III - IV - V)

#clone trooper echo #clone trooper fives #clone trooper hardcase #clone trooper jesse #captain rex #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #ode's writing #fractions of echo

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chikkou · 4 years

Note

Will you talk more about Lisa?? Lisa the character specifically but also your feelings on his feelings about Buddy? I just thought your analysis was so good and I want to hear other thoughts you have on her.

yall are honestly spoiling me rn sdhkfdjfks this is like a dream come true

i already got into the stuff with buddy in this ask here but i have a LOT to say about lisa and the connection between her and buddy so u better settle in!

ok so firstly ill start with lisa. i played the original lisa game (lisa the first) not long after it first dropped in 2012, and im not even kidding when i said it changed me LMAO.... seeing a story about a girl suffering is nothing new, but austin jorgensens approach to it was so fucking unique. you dont just witness it, you get to EXPERIENCE it right along with her. many stories that involve sexual abuse/rape show or otherwise depict it explicitly for the shock value, which is both disgusting and, in my opinion, extremely fucking exploitative. i feel that it is horrific to dignify an act so deeply evil with screentime. but lisa stood out to me immediately because, even though you know exactly whats going on, the game NEVER shows anything explicit. everything is layered in subtext and symbolism, and austin is fantastic with indirect storytelling, so you learn so much from just a little drop of information. this applies not just to the game proper, but to the character as well.

in case its not clear: i absolutely ADORE lisa. she is my favorite character in all of the games, bar none. its going to sound kind of fucked up, but as a kid around her age going through some fucked up shit, her committing suicide at the end felt like a sort of victory to me. she knew she could never escape from marty or what he was doing to her. he leaks into every single part of her psyche, everything she ever cared about or loved is ruined because of him, and even the vague memory of her mother is completely corrupted, and turned into a muddled version of him. lisa the first also had the added benefit of some religious commentary, as there are crosses all over their home and marty is characterized as an extremely religious man, which i fucking LOVE and wish had come back in the painful, but its an acceptable loss. anyway, lisa committing suicide at the end was an act of defiance against not just marty, but martys god, as suicide is considered a mortal sin in catholicism. lisa knew she’d never be free of marty in life, so she escaped the only way she could; she was defiant to the end.

ive seen people complain that the painful has a bit of a “lost lenore” thing going on, since lisas death seems to fuel the Manpain of both brad and buzzo, but i actually disagree. on the contrary, its just like austin himself said - lisa will never be gone. lisa is ALWAYS there, with brad, and buzzo, and buddy, and marty, and yado, and the ENTIRE FUCKING WORLD. i dont necessarily think that there is something paranormal going on in the game, but i AM going to say that, unlike other cases of a girl/woman dying for a mans backstory, lisa isnt just a bittersweet memory they can reflect on and then put away when its convenient for them. she is a presence that is felt throughout the entire game. brad sees her more than once, sometimes watching, sometimes reprimanding him. buzzo is clearly haunted by her, as he cries out to her a few times in the joyful. every character who was directly touched by lisa - brad, marty, and buzzo - calls out to lisa as they die. call it their guilt or call it her actions, but in either case, it is clear that lisa just as significant of a character in the painful as she was in the first, even if she cant always be seen. even in a meta-sense, every game in the series - even the joyful, whose protagonist doesnt even know who she is - is named after her. she is at the center of everything that happens in them.

that actually brings me to buddy, because i find the dynamic between her and lisa fucking fascinating. as i previously mentioned, brad never talked about his past with buddy, and snaps at her for bringing up his adoptive son dusty (rando), so it goes without saying that she definitely doesnt know who lisa is. in spite of that, though, lisa is a fucking massive part of buddys life, and while she may not know the person herself, i think she is aware that when people (and brad especially) look at her, they arent seeing HER.

i mentioned it in another post, but even though brad takes it upon himself to raise and “protect” buddy, he seems to almost unwittingly recreate lisas appearance, primarily by allowing her hair to grow long even though he knows what a risk that is to her safety. he also treats buddy in a manner thats incredibly similar to how marty treated lisa (sans sexual abuse, of course) - he insults her, does not let her leave the house at all, and forces her to do unsavory things that no one should ever have to do (in buddys case, this means killing at least two innocent people because brad doesnt want a “weak” daughter). the most literal comparison between buddy and lisa is the fact that they are both very young girls being essentially held captive by their father figures, albeit for different reasons, and both long for freedom from their captors.

theres also the fact that both buddy and lisa have to deal with misogyny and the effects of rape culture firsthand; they both battle against men who feel entitled to do with them whatever they please, and the threat of ongoing sexual abuse looms heavy over both of their heads. neither one can seek help from anyone; the neighbors in brad and lisas town seem complacent at best, if they even know what is happening to lisa at all, and buddys only allies (sans rando) are long dead by the start of the joyful. this is not just a hypothetical or a distant possibility. this is the real, tangible fate that will befall them if they cant somehow secure their safety.

sadly, because lisa wasnt playable in either of the rpgs, we dont know if she was able to fight as brad was, but it is highly probable that she had the innate skill but was never able to learn it (as marty highly discouraged them from learning “their grandfathers karate,” and seemed disgusted whenever brad did so). however, she did have ONE weapon she could make use of, and this is a weapon buddy ends up using, as well - her femininity. she became close to bernard (aka buzzo), made him fall in love with her, and then used him as a last ditch effort to stop martys abuse by having him mutilate her face. im not saying lisa never cared about bernard - in fact, i think she DID really love and care for him - but her own fucked up experiences with “love” meant she really couldnt understand what it was supposed to be like, or that it was wrong to manipulate the people you care about. lisa did very few things wrong - it pretty much just stops at the maiming of the cat and her manipulation of bernard - but she knew that she would never get away from marty without some kind of drastic action being taken, and scarring herself was her last ditch effort before ultimately committing suicide.

buddy ends up taking a somewhat similar tack in the joyful, and like in lisas case, its simultaneously resourceful and horrific. one of buddys key moves in the joyful is to flash the enemy (which the player obviously doesnt see) in order to distract them long enough to get the kill. its fucking horrible and disgusting and makes you feel so dirty, but then, how must buddy feel having to do something like that just to survive? shes just a child, but in a world where almost every man is out to get you, she knows this has to be done to save herself, very much like lisa. unlike in lisas case, though, buddy is successful in securing her safety in this way - lisas effort is for naught, and leads to her committing suicide not very long after.

in a way, i sort of attribute buddys brutality to lisas omnipresence; all of the men pursuing buddy are just like marty, monsters who would harm a fucking child for their own disgusting ends, and i think that when buzzo said that lisa wouldve loved olathe, what he means is that she would have loved seeing so many horrible men being punished for what theyd done. so in my opinion, buddy carving out a place for herself in olathe by killing all those who would subjugate her seems very much in the mentality lisa would have had. sure, there are some innocents who sadly get roped into it, but that would definitely not be her intention; for example, if buzzo could have practiced amputation without harming a living thing, i dont think lisa would have asked him to practice on the cat. note the LACK of brutality at the beehive and the swamp bar, two of the few peaceful places in the painful and both devoid of predatory men hunting for buddy - lisa has no qualm with any of them. but marty? brad could hardly even get a full sentence out before killing him on the spot. i dont doubt that that has a great deal to do with lisas presence.

ok i talked for a while LMAO but basically i think that, in a more metatextual sense, lisa and buddys relationship really strikes me as an accurate depiction of generational trauma. of course it was intentional with the more obvious trauma chain (marty to brad to buddy), but the trauma chain of marty to lisa to buddy is rarely ever addressed due to lisa not physically appearing in the painful. however, i believe it may inform buddys actions a great deal more than people realize - after all, buddys experience is unique, but who could understand it better than lisa? who knows that sort of pain, of being alone on an island, the lone woman trapped with a man (or men) who want nothing more than to cause you harm? even without her realizing it, lisa is guiding buddy, encouraging her to take back what is hers no matter the cost, to punish those who would try to take what they want from her. lisa might be dead, but she is a vengeful presence throughout every game, and buddys actions feel like theyre meant not only to save herself, but to avenge lisa, even if she doesnt realize it. at the end of the day, buddy and lisa both get to exact revenge against all the men who have wronged them, and they succeed. they are aggressive, and violent, and selfish, and ANGRY - and they have every fucking right to be.

#lisa the first #lisa the painful #lisa the joyful #long post #yall GOTTA stop u know good and damn well i will talk about this game all fucking day hdskjdsk #rape mention #abuse mention #lisa #anya's anons

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five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Family

Sequel to ‘Mask.’

It was amusing, watching Daniel eat like this.

Vlad had decided to institute a tradition of family mealtimes, and had decanted Daniel from the containment unit about thirty minutes previously. Daniel had been sulky, at first, saying that Vlad should have given him more warning and attempting to fend off the wheelchair Vlad had procured for him. But his strength had been insufficient to the task, and, once Vlad had wheeled him into the other half of the basement, where he had created a luxurious but secret home for his children, he had fallen into a contented and obedient stupor once again.

An adjustment to the flow of his ectoplasm IV perked him up just enough to allow him to attempt to eat breakfast. Attempt. Poorly. He was obviously as ravenous as he was exhausted, but he was equally uncoordinated. He only got a forkful of pancakes to his mouth every third attempt at best.

"Father," said Danielle, tugging at his sleeve. She was, more often than not, the spokesperson for her siblings. "Is Danny alright?"

Vlad nodded, absently. "What he is doing is very difficult, my dear, but he will come to no lasting harm." Perhaps he should allow Daniel to eat separately, after this.

"He won't melt?"

"No, no, he's quite stable. You needn't worry about that. He is simply tired, and his mind is otherwise occupied. Imagine if you were trying to, say, set the table while reading four books at once. Your coordination might suffer, too, hm?"

His children nodded. "That makes sense," said Dmitri, adjusting his eye patch. "I guess we didn't think of it that way."

Vlad gave his son an indulgent smile. "You are young, Dmitri. You don't have to think of everything."

Dmitri nodded, and then said, wistfully, "I don't suppose we're still following the schedule?"

"I'm afraid not," said Vlad. "You, of course, can continue with the activities I planned, but Daniel won't be able to." Four of the five children at the table sighed. Daniel continued to struggle with his breakfast. "But you may be able to meet David soon. His stabilization has been progressing nicely."

This pronouncement was greeted with smiles and cheers. Damien reached over and hugged Dmitri. Daniel jumped and dropped his fork.

He made a very small, upset fweh sound and stared angrily at his plate.

Vlad regarded him with a sigh. While family mealtimes were good for his children, for their social skills, their stability, and for their bond with Daniel, they would not suffice for getting Daniel the nutrients he needed. True, they could be supplemented intravenously, or with a feeding tube, but Vlad didn't want to resort to that just yet.

Dustin reached over to Daniel's plate and began to cut up Daniel's pancakes. He speared some on the end of the fork and offered them to Daniel, who took them with a kind of blurred dignity. Vlad had to cover his mouth. It wouldn't do to laugh at Daniel being hand-fed like a small child. Yet.

Danny was wheeled out of the underground dining room and his brain sluggishly began to work again. "Are they okay?" he asked.

"Hmm?" said Vlad.

"Being apart."

"For now. A few hours with you a day should keep them from deteriorating further. Once David has reached their level of stability, you will be able to spend much more time with them." Vlad ruffled Danny's hair and Danny hummed. Then he realized how wrong that was and scowled.

Vlad walked over to the tube Danny had been in for the last several hours and started adjusting things.

Danny shifted uncomfortably in the chair; he was still too woozy to try to walk. "Vlad?"

"Yes? What?"

"Do we- Can we do something different? Not that."

"Oh?" Vlad turned to face him. "I would have thought that you would have wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. This is the fastest way."

Danny shrugged. He didn't really want to explain to Vlad how unnerving being in the tube had been.

Vlad drummed his fingers on the side of the tube and contemplated Danny. "There are a few other things we could try."

Danny nodded. "Good. Right. Before we start, though, um, I don't suppose you have a bathroom down here?"

"Do I have to be strapped down?" asked Danny.

"Daniel," said Vlad, "you agreed to cooperate."

"Yes, with stabilizing Ellie, Dustin, Dmitri, Damien, and David," said Danny. "Not with letting you tie me up so you can bully me into doing things." Never mind that he wouldn't be able to resist whatever Vlad wanted from him, anyway. He was too weak.

"I don't want you to damage yourself by falling off the table, hitting yourself during a seizure, or falling under the ectoplasm and doing your best impression of drowning," said Vlad. "You can't actually drown, of course, but the fact remains that these are all experimental procedures."

Danny shuddered at the word experiment. He'd been half-ghost for long enough for that word to sink into his subconscious and give him nightmares. "But are they necessary?"

"I suppose not," admitted Vlad. He approached Danny with two quick strides and knelt in front of him. He held up an object that looked like a thick bolt with a thick cable running from one end. "This needs to make contact with your core."

"You're joking."

"No. The idea is to strengthen and more directly transmit your ectosignature."

Danny bit his lip. He knew exactly how something touching your core felt, thanks to Dan. "Maybe you had better strap me down."

They fell into a sort of routine. For most of the day and night, Danny would soak in an ectoplasm bath, connected to David. At regular intervals Vlad would wake him up, convince him to exercise a small amount, and then bring him to the other side of the basement, where the other clones lived.

At one point, Vlad had handed Danny a phone and he'd had a very confused conversation with his sister. He'd tried to communicate what was happening to her, and that she should call Sam and Tucker, but he'd just finished a disorienting stabilization session, and he wasn't sure how clear he'd been.

Danny didn't know if Vlad had kept up his other promise, to keep Amity Park safe, but, honestly, most of the time he was too tired to even care. Which was sort of disturbing in the moments he did have energy to care.

Also, whenever he was awake he was hungry. Ravenous. It was weird. His food intake had increased after the accident, but he knew he had never eaten this much every day before. But he wasn't gaining weight. He was losing it.

Danny woke up to Vlad undoing his restraints. "Izzit time t'eat?" he asked.

"Soon," said Vlad. "David is ready."

"Oh," said Danny, with vague interest. He sat up and leaned on the side of the tub he was in. Ectoplasm lapped around his thighs.

Slowly, Vlad decanted David from the tube, first draining away the ectoplasm and then rinsing David off with a stream of water from the top of the tube. He opened the tube up, and began to detach him from the various wires and leads. As he did so, David began to wake, stirring and humming. Finally, after Vlad disconnected the last wire, David opened his eyes and smiled. Danny's lips mirrored the motion.

He was happy. David was family, clone or not.

The next meal was more confusing than usual. His eyes were having trouble focusing, and the conversation around him was nothing more than a smear of noise. Everyone was happy, though, so that was good.

To Danny's dull surprise, Vlad did not take him back out to the lab, but instead to a different room. This was different. And upsetting. He frowned. This room was bright colors and soft shapes. Vlad took him out of the wheelchair and set him on the floor.

Again, this was different. Why was it different? He couldn't think. He didn't like this.

Then all his siblings came close, and he found himself in the middle of a cuddle pile. Oh! This was nice. Danny closed his eyes and let himself relax the rest of the way.

"Now, children," said Vlad, after he was quite certain both that his children would be gentle with Daniel and that Daniel was firmly asleep, "I will be leaving Daniel with you during the day, but I need you to follow certain rules. First, Daniel must stay below ground. Second, at least three of you must stay with Daniel at all times." He rather suspected that none of them would let Daniel leave their sight, at least for the near future, but that was the number he had calculated would keep Daniel in a docile state. "Thirdly, if any of the alarms go off, you must fetch me at once. Finally, and this is very important, when he is awake, I want you to try to talk him into staying with us. You remember those videos I showed you, yes?"

David looked confused, but all the others nodded.

"They were so mean to him," said Dustin.

"They shot at him!" added Ellie.

"You're not like that at all, Father," said Damien. "I can't believe those people are his parents!"

Vlad smiled. "David, I will show you the videos at a later time. For now, get to know your siblings."

David nodded vigorously. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of talking, yet.

Vlad left for the lab, humming. Yes, his little family was shaping up nicely. If he could get Daniel to join it with some subliminal messaging and the well-meaning pressure of the clones, well, that would just be icing on the cake, wouldn't it?

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay 2020 #day 30

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bellamygateoldblog · 4 years

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i will never be over the way this show has continuously tried to frame bellamy and clarke as heroes and good people, or the way the fandom has almost completely embraced and supported that narrative

the amount of times i’ve read “[clarke] saved everyone’s ungrateful asses” makes me seriously consider turning evil. like aren’t y’all bored? don’t you have a different sentence you would like to say for a change?

i want to talk about this but i probably don’t remember a lot of the details of this show so if im forgetting something or get something wrong i apologise, but i never have any desire to rewatch past s2.

clarke isn't even the hero of her own side, she took power of them using the military force of the grounders, someone else’s people, she’s forced them into alliances without their knowledge that weren’t in their best interest (while she literally had no idea what they were even going through because she’d abandoned them after upsetting their entire political structure, and this leader she’s bowing to is responsible for the slaughter of their children, has broken an alliance previously with them, has hung the threat of genocide over their heads, and who isn’t even wanted in power by her own people- dragging skaikru into that conflict, too), she’s sacrificed them and what’s best for them in order to cater to/concentrate on the grounders newest demands or pursue her own personal mission, she’s lied to and patronised them, she’s abandoned them and surrendered them to die while they were under her protection and responsibility, and in Book 2 (and these aren’t her people but in canon she’s their leader anyway apparently despite trying to blow them all up a few days before...) she’s abandoned them again, and is speaking for them without consent or any connection to what’s happening with them again,.........her inner circle/her ‘friends’ have to be extremely careful to remain important to her or on her team or they’ll be sacrificed, harmed or become acceptable losses to whatever her newest goal is too (but hey at least she says she cares about them) all while acting very ‘woe is me’ about the whole crushing weight of responsibility she shouldn’t have.

but she’s the hero, she’s beloved, she’s special, she has relationships that were never built, she and only she saved everyone again and has all the lines telling us so no matter how dishonest those statements are.

like this is where i personally see what you said in your ask most: when it concerns clarke.

bellamy on the other hand...i don’t place him at all on the same level as clarke when it comes to this. clarke has privilege that bellamy just never had as a character. and i think that does probably play into why i like him.

him being a hero to the delinquents/the 48 is completely believable to me. he was the original leader, he got them through a tough time, he chose to put himself on the line for them, and he’s the one who stayed. i also think it’s reasonable that fandom might romanticise him this way because he is one who has been shown to value the one life as well as the many of his people, a guy doing his best and making big mistakes along the way, a mixed complex bag of good and bad, i find him very likable and i love the toxic/pained/vulnerable ones lol but more than anything i find him to be one of the more interesting/entertaining characters on the show (Book 1).

we also see him torment himself with his own mistakes instead of just having other people do it for him/remind him like we see happen with clarke- and we all know fandom loves equating that with a “redemption arc” and as much as i personally dislike seeing pity parties i do like self-awareness and responsibility in characters that goes beyond a 3-second-long puppy dog look or straight dismissal of someone else’s pain, and for the most part bellamy’s expressions of this don’t come across as demanding sympathy from others but from genuine self-loathing and an honesty to himself, internalising the effects of his actions/childhood.

i know i personally prefer The Flawed Protector over The Tortured Saviour nobody asked for (same white male hypocritical moral hero in a woman’s body).

i don’t believe in assigning “hero” to any of them though like that’s the whole entire point of the show lol “there are no good guys.” and i also think a major chunk of fandom/shippers have warped bellamy’s character so much that it isn’t even him anymore, so this man they’re celebrating as a hero/good person isn’t even bellamy sometimes.

all of the genuinely “good” and kind people are dead.

i don't think i'd say bellamy was ever framed as a hero. like he was just never important enough to be, he’s just not put into those positions (despite being the male lead), clarke is. as the protagonist ig. bellamy...he’s the protector/knight of the heroes, but not the actual hero himself (applies to octavia too i think, where she acts and he reacts).

like take mount weather, clarke becomes empowered by her “wanheda” status, bellamy’s (and monty’s) part in that is lost...clarke is “bearing it so they don’t have to” (rme) which simultaneously strips the other boys from claiming the ‘victory’ of saving the 48 while still leaving them with the guilt, like it suits how i see clarke perfectly that she’s the only one to refer to the genocide (and shutting down the CoL, i realised) as “i” while monty and bellamy say “we” and it was clarke’s actions that got them to that point in the first place, but this is one of those times she’s clearly The Protagonist. if that makes sense lol.

bellamy is on the opposite side to clarke in s3 and s7 and he needs to be moved to her side in order to be on the ‘right’ one. now i don’t agree with that one bit mind you (when it comes to s3, idc about s7 lol) and i didnt see it that way but imo that’s how the show wrote it, to the point he was either demonized endlessly by fandom or woobified in a way that denied him his own agency. during s5 i don’t i think anyone was framed in a good light. i can see this applying in s6, though- where he was his absolute worst self yet, betraying his own development, failing at every point to “do better” despite claiming it, but still was given that reasurring line that they did better and saved people and was in that “heroic” position i guess? but is that because he was back to being clarke’s “good little knight” tho? (but do we claim s6??? do we really??? do we claim it ladies???)

s6 was 100% dedicated to making clarke look good/like a 'good' or sympathetic person. the bodysnatching plot (and the s6 sheidheda plot because if it was supposed to be about bellamy and address his s5 actions he would’ve been present to experience/observe those consiquences himself but he wasn’t lmaoooo. instead it was to tell the audience ‘actually clarke was right last season and here’s another reason to feel bad for her and how those ungrateful bitches were treating her’) has no other purpose for existing. clarke's character has consistently been elevated at the expense of everyone else's. but im not sure the writing did a very good job convincing me she was a good person if it was trying to do that LMAO like my interpretation of her is so fitted to canon, and no amount of throwaway lines telling me how good she is did anything to change what i saw yk? and in s6, combined with being patronised by the writers, i found her to be at some of her most obnoxious.

i don’t agree with placing bellamy and clarke in the same boat tbh. like they just come from completely different places and come across differently, especially in the way they interact with other characters.

in my experience this fandom (on tumblr) is extremely skewed in favour of clarke, like ive never seen a fandom so obsessed with their protagonist. there’s A LOT of clarke stans who stan her for being one of those “deserves better :(” characters, selfless and heroic, and support that view that she’s the superior character, entitled to other character’s devotion, love and validation yet doesn’t have to reciprocate any of it. the CL/BC ship war was just a bunch of people fighting over clarke, who deserves her more, which character is more toxic to her, which other character would 100% be her bff supportive of that relationship, treating her as a passive whose actions don’t take affect. im not sure how much i blame the writing for that because if so many of us are capable of recieving her character in this way then...why aren’t so many other people? how is there such a massive disconnect between the ways we see her?

and imo a lot of the bellamy love in this fandom comes from shipping him with clarke too rather than being because of who he actually is.

#the 100

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imalifegen89 · 3 years

Text

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 7 - When the Past Unfurls - Part I

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Hawaii Five-0 (2010)

Relationship: Steve McGarrett/John Sheppard

Characters: Steve McGarrett, John Sheppard, Danny "Danno" Williams, Evan Lorne, Bates (Stargate), Laura Cadman, Alicia Vega, Kono Kalakaua, Adam Noshimuri, PO Higgins (OC), Samantha "Sam" Carter, Jack O'Neill, John McGarrett, Dr. Lam, Catherine Rollins, Wo Fat, Original Goa'uld Character(s), Original Characters

Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Military, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Violence, Character Bashing, Not Catherine Rollins Friendly, No DADT, Swearing

Summary :

"Sure John, I'll call," He promised as the SUV came to a stop in front of them. He and Danny both got in and seated themselves. He then gave a short wave to John who was still standing there by the exit watching them leave. Steve hoped what John had told him would be true, that his dad would be able to make it through. He was not ready to lose his only remaining parent. ‘God please, not again! Not so soon ...' His mind was repeating the mantra as Steve let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes."

Steve will find out about what happened to his father, who was involved in it, why it happened and so much more than he ever bargained for...

Hello All, Here's the next part of the series, and it's a two-parter. There are some plot twists on the way and hope you all will enjoy it.

Aethir - Thank you so much for your hard work and for finding some time to help me with editing, commenting, and giving out very helpful tips and suggestions. Idea bouncing and snark is always so much fun with you!!!

Part 1 - Honolulu General

Honolulu General Hospital

Hawaii

The six-hour-long flight in the old and noisy Globemaster had left both SEALs travel-weary and sleep-deprived. Neither had talked much during the flight, trying to catch a few hours of shut-eye, but among the jarring engine noise, the comms chatter, the endless shuddering, and the training maneuvers, that had been impossible. At the end of the flight, they had thanked the crew and disembarked with relief, each carrying their single duffel.

They were both on leave and therefore in civilian clothes, and instead of the usual armory they carried around, they only had their handguns and with extra clips in their bags. Although they were only making a visit to the hospital, neither of them was willing to go completely unarmed.

A short taxi ride brought them to the hospital from Hickam closer to the midday visiting hours. They figured if needed, they could wait in the hospital until they could see John McGarrett.

……….

"Hello, My name’s Steve McGarrett, I got a call last night about my father. Somebody named Curtis called me," said Steve, presenting his credentials to the male nurse manning the reception area of the Outdoor-Patient-Department. The nurse - L. Rider, according to his name tag - gave Steve and his ID a once over and started accessing his system.

"Yes, Mr. McGarrett, your father's been moved from the ICU. He’s in room 308. You can take that elevator to the left," he informed.

“Thanks.”

Steve and Danny both took off towards the given directions.

The room Steve's father was in wasn't hard to find. It was located on the third floor and the room had the number and the name 'John McGarrett' on a plaque clearly displayed. It also had 'Dr. Leonard T. Lester - Cardiologist' listed as his primary care physician.

"I'm going to go look around and find some coffee. Do you need anything?" Danny asked. He was going to give his friend some time with his dad before going in.

"Yeah sure, I could use some coffee.”

……….

During the six long hours he’d had to think about what happened, Steve’s mind had been busy contemplating some horrible scenarios. He hadn’t realized that he had been subconsciously bracing himself for the worst. Nobody in his family had any history of heart attacks and he didn't know what to expect, what to do or how to prepare. Being the trained planner that he was, Steve found the lack of knowledge rather unsettling.

What the nurse at the reception told him, gave him hope though. He theorized that since his dad's already been moved from the ICU to a regular room, his condition shouldn't be that bad.

Steve took a moment to compose himself, watching Danny as he walked away. Then he took a deep breath and knocked on the door before entering room 308.

……….

He stood still by the door to take the scene in.

His dad was lying on the bed and a white and blue hospital gown was peeking out from underneath the white blanket. There was a monitor attached to his chest and Steve could see the leads disappear through the opening of his gown. The apparatus was quiet and its screen indicated a steady rhythm while John McGarrett slept. Steve noticed there was an IV connected to his dad's left hand as well. He scrunched up his nose when the strong odor of antiseptics hit him in the face, contrasting starkly with the smell of gun oil and Old Spice aftershave he usually associated with his dad.

McGarrett senior was sleeping peacefully and didn't seem to be in any pain. Steve was content to let his dad be, preferring to let him wake up on his own. As he stepped further into the room, he saw a chair by the bed and lowered himself to it slowly, mindful not to make a sound. Then he placed his duffel bag on the floor and settled in to wait.

Maybe it was his instincts of being an active duty police officer - John McGarrett surfaced from his slumber knowing that there was somebody in the room with him, within a few minutes of Steve’s entrance. The slight change in the rhythm of the heart monitor alerted Steve to the fact. Not wanting to startle him, Steve leaned forward and addressed his father softly.

"Hey dad," he reached to touch his hand, the one without the IV needle.

"Steve!" His dad's eyes went wide, realizing his son was sitting by the bed. "What are you doing here?" John knew Steve was deployed and he was the last person he expected to see in the hospital this early. He hadn’t even been in here for 24 hours.

"The hospital called me and told me you had a heart attack," Steve explained. He was relieved to see that his dad was speaking clearly and wasn't showing any signs of disorientation or pain. In fact, he looked quite normal. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," John smiled at the raised eyebrow he received from his son at that. So he elaborated. "Just a little tightness in my chest area. But the doctor says it's normal after an attack. Other than that, I really am feeling fine. To be honest, I didn't even know what it was. I only knew I had a heart attack when Dr. Lester told me this morning," He was more curious as to how his son got here so quickly. "Where were you when they called you?"

"Colorado Springs." Steve smiled. He couldn't really get into details about his deployment or his whereabouts other than that, but he was glad that he was in the States to make this trip.

"Hah, and you’re here already. That was quick,"

"Yeah, I got lucky and caught a transport.”

Steve was more than happy to just sit there and exchange pleasantries all day long. But he needed to know what happened first. He got up to go and fetch a glass of water for his father from the bedside table. "Dad, what happened?"

His dad took it and drank some water before handing it back to Steve. Then he turned on his bed to fully settle on his back. Steve put the glass away and leaned towards his dad, giving him his full, undivided attention.

"It was the weirdest thing, kid," said the senior McGarrett, frowning as he cast his mind back to the chain of events that led to his sudden health failure. “I was in that small grocery shop by the filling station near home. I had just finished filling up the tank on the truck and was getting some stuff for the weekend. I remember walking towards the counter to pay and that’s it - for the life of me, I can't remember having any pain or calling for help or anything. I was standing there one moment and was waking up on this bed the next.” He paused to take a deep breath and then exhale slowly. “Then there’s this fellow - Dr. Lester - is telling me how lucky I was to come back from a severe myocardial infarction with no visible damage to my heart,” he made a face, remembering his earlier conversation with the overly cheerful doctor who described the incident in vivid medical detail.

“How’d you get here?”

“He said that the shop owner called for emergency services and sent me here. Apparently, I coded on the way, but they managed to get my heart started again without much fuss. And now, here I am.” John finished recounting the incident.

Steve rubbed a hand across his face, trying to take it all in.

“I wouldn’t obviously know what to expect, it’s not like I’ve had a heart attack before - but I'd have thought that at least you get some kind of a warning sign, you know? Like breathing difficulties, chest pain or something,” McGarrett senior continued after a moment. “Not this going about your normal day-to-day business, and then a complete blackout, followed by waking up in a damn hospital bed - it just doesn't feel normal,” his frown deepened.

Steve didn’t say anything for a long while. He just took his time to sit there and watch his dad who seemed to be doing pretty much okay after going through such an experience. He was immensely relieved and was happy to take his time to enjoy the feeling, letting go of the worry and stress that had built up since the moment he’d received the call.

A knock on the door interrupted the comfortable silence in the room and Danny Williams entered carrying two styrofoam cups of coffee.

“Ah there you are, Cap, how are you feeling?” He asked, handing over a coffee to Steve and coming closer to stand near the bed railing.

“I’m feeling alright, considering,” John smiled crookedly. “Where’s my coffee, Williams?”

“Hey, I don't think coffee is on the approved list for you,” Danny grinned. He was glad to see the man looked healthy enough for someone who had just had a serious health scare, fit to be up and making demands. “Besides, this hospital swill is so bad it might just give you a different problem or three,” he sipped his coffee and grimaced theatrically to prove the point. “So when are they letting you out?”

“Don't know yet, my doctor is supposed to drop by any time now. I don't think I need to stay here any longer at all.” John stated confidently. He was not accustomed to sitting around on a bed all day, especially when he wasn’t feeling different from any other day.

“Let’s let the doctor decide that, yeah dad? As you said, this is the first time something like this has happened to you and they just might need to keep you under observation for a bit - just saying,” Steve cautioned.

He knew his dad and he could see the stubborn man was already planning on going home, to start acting as if nothing happened. He might even insist on going to work unless the doctor gave him strict orders to rest and take it easy for a while.

“Which reminds me, do they know at the station that you are here?” Steve asked his dad before he could start protesting about staying put in the hospital. “I tried calling Kelly before I left, but it went to voicemail,”

“No, I’m on leave - only due back the day after tomorrow,” his dad replied somewhat petulantly.

The room door opened again, this time granting entry to a short, balding Hawaiian native. The name tag embroidered over the chest area of his white coat identified him as Dr. L.T. Lester. He smiled cheerfully at all of them and went to the nearest monitor connected to McGarrett senior.

“So how are you feeling today, John?” the doctor inquired while studying the monitor.

“I’m fine doc, when do I get to go home?” John got straight to the point.

The doctor continued taking readings and making notes with an amused smile on his face. Then he went to unclip the chart hanging on the bed railing and made a few notes on it. After that, instead of answering his reluctant patient, the doctor turned to Steve and Danny to introduce himself. At the end of exchanging pleasantries, he finally turned to address John.

“Well, Mr. McGarrett, I can see you’re doing quite well and your readings are good. But, as I explained to you earlier, what you went through is quite serious and you might have damage to your heart muscle.”

Then sensing the alarm from the visitors of his patient, the doctor hurried to explain. “It’s what happens during a heart attack. The blood flow into the heart gets interrupted and it goes into a sort of overdrive trying to restore the flow. This overactivity can cause damage. Your dad was quite lucky that people near him reacted quickly and sent him to the hospital on time.” The doctor smiled again.

“So, what’s next, doc?” Steve asked.

“We do need to assess the possibility of damage and the cause of the infraction. The most common reason is usually coronary artery disease, which means cholesterol clogging the arteries. There are some instances this could happen if you were experiencing a seizure with severe spasms and contractions. We’ll need to run some tests to determine the cause and then plan steps for the recovery,”

“And how long will all this take?” The McGarrett senior looked crestfallen, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out soon.

“I actually have you scheduled for some of the tests now. Some blood work, an EKG, and a scan. An attendant should be here shortly to take you for those,” Then the doctor turned to Steve and Danny. “The tests will take about an hour or so. If you need to step out and have a meal or something, now would be the time.”

An elderly female attendant entered the room quietly, pushing a wheelchair as the doctor finished, and started unhooking Steve's dad from his various monitors. Steve took the doctor's advice and took his leave with Danny, after letting his dad know that they’ll be back once the tests were done.

……….

“Well, I’ve gotta admit man, your dad’s right. That does sound weird.” Danny said after listening to Steve about what happened.

“Why?” Steve frowned.

“My uncle Mario had a heart attack a couple of years ago. The man was moving some heavy boxes around. He’d been sweating buckets and breathing through his mouth for about an hour when my aunt found him and made him take a break. Then he felt pain in his chest and aunt Rea took him to a doctor. The doctor took one look at him and sent him to an ER. He’s been suffering from a heart attack for hours by then,” Danny paused and tried to remember the exact details his mother told him about what happened to his uncle. “He is fine now. He had to have a bypass and has to stay away from all the greasy food and the alcohol, but he made it,” he said inspecting the sandwich he took from the vending machine. They were both seated in the hospital cafeteria with bottles of water and sandwiches.

It was crowded and almost all the tables were full with families huddling together having lunch - most probably waiting for news about their loved ones. It wasn’t that noisy, despite being crowded to capacity - and nowhere near cozy or inviting - as one would expect from a busy dining area. It felt as though the sense of expectation, the sense of happiness, and the overpowering sense of grief had all tangled up together to create a very subdued atmosphere. Even the smell of food mixed with the underlying odors of disinfectant contributed to the gloom that pervaded over the souls lost in their own private worlds.

“Wow, I’ve forgotten how crappy the hospital food is. This doesn't look like a roast beef sandwich man,” Danny sniffed at it. “Sure doesn’t smell like it either.” Then he shrugged and started eating. It didn’t taste much better either, but he was hungry after the long flight.

Steve didn’t say anything as he nibbled on his food. He wasn’t really hungry but knew he had to have something to keep his energy up. He was thinking about his dad’s recounting of the incident. He hadn’t said anything to his dad earlier, but the more he thought about it, the less it made sense. What Danny was telling him also made it clear how unusual the whole thing was. He made up his mind to pop into the shop his dad was in, later when they left the hospital. Maybe he could talk to the shopkeeper and even have a look at their security footage if they had any. He might even find something that could explain his dad suddenly suffering a heart attack. Maybe there was something that his dad had forgotten to mention.

He needed to get in touch with Sheppard as well, to let him know his dad’s condition. He knew that John would worry until he heard from him. Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he decided now would be the best time to make that call.

“Listen, I need to call Shep and let him know dad’s alright. I’m just gonna be over there by that balcony,” he told Danny as he stood up, fishing his phone out of his jacket pocket. Then he walked to the area he pointed, dialing Sheppard. “Be right back.”

………..

The sweet and subtle smell of her perfume reached Danny first, as he realized the lady who was wearing it was standing right in front of him. He looked up and saw the familiar, smiling face of Lieutenant Catherine Rollins looking down at him.

“Well, hello!” He grinned. “Fancy running into you here, of all places,” he gestured at the seat Steve had just vacated. “Take a seat,”

“Thanks,” Rollins smiled charmingly as she sat. “I’m just here visiting a friend of mine. She just had her second baby - a cute little baby boy,” her face took on the same expression all women wore when talking about babies. “I popped in here to get a drink and then I saw you,” she said. “I thought you guys were in Colorado? Is everything ok?” Her expression turned into one tinged with concern.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m here with Steve, actually. We got a call about his dad, but he’s alright. We just saw him,” Danny explained without going into much detail. He noticed the Lieutenant perking up at the mention of McGarrett junior.

“He’s over there, on a call.” he pointed with his head.

Steve was leaning over the balcony with his elbows resting on the railing and busy talking to Sheppard. He didn’t see the new arrival as he had his back to them.

Danny saw the wattage of Cathrine’s smile go up as her eyes ran over the view the oblivious SEAL presented. He hid the grin and blinked at her innocently when she turned back to face him.

“So, will you guys be here for a few days then?” She inquired, her gaze snapping back to where Steve was, almost unintentionally.

Danny knew she was mostly interested in finding out whether Steve was going to be around for a while.

“Well, that depends.” He hedged. “We have to see his dad’s doctor and see how it goes,”

He didn’t want to give any definite answers or any other details without Steve’s say so. He opened his bottle and drank some water, wishing Steve would soon return. So that he could decide what to tell this infatuated Lieutenant who was back to staring at Steve’s ass with a dreamy look on her face. Then something started to nag at Danny about what she said earlier, but he couldn’t place it. He pushed it away to sort out later as he saw Steve finishing his call.

……….

“Yeah, so that’s what happened. He seems alright and man, that’s a relief. Depending on what his tests and scans show, it’ll be a day or two more. But I’ll message you when I find out,” Steve said to John, who was quite relieved at the fact that Steve’s dad was fine. He insisted that Steve take as much time as needed to make sure his dad got all the support he needed. He also made Steve promise to message him with updates and implored him to take care of himself before finally ending the call.

Steve put his phone back inside his jacket with a smile. He very much appreciated the time he was given to take care of his dad. Moreover, he was deeply touched by the way Sheppard sounded over the phone. He had been really worried and the relief that poured over from his lover through the call was almost a tangible thing. Steve made a mental note to send regular updates as promised. It wasn’t something he would have done for anyone else, but he knew Sheppard would stress otherwise. It felt nice to know that he had somebody who cared that much about him.

He felt the good feeling wilt away when he turned back to see the penetrating gaze of Catherine Rollins directed at him. He was pretty sure he caught her in the act of staring at his ass. She smiled brilliantly at him and waved. Steve was somewhat reluctant to wave back and tried his best to summon a smile for her. He was sure it looked more like a grimace instead.

Steve didn’t have anything against beautiful women. He was definitely not opposed to being the subject of desire of one, either. He had gone out with many pretty women and Catherine Rollins, with her long black hair, soulful brown eyes, and radiant smile was exactly his type. But he was very much invested in another hazel-eyed brunet and he didn’t see himself veering off anytime soon - if ever at all. Even if he wasn’t, Steve knew that he still wouldn’t be interested in this particular woman. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something off about Lieutenant Rollins - something that rubbed him the wrong way - that made him want to be on his guard whenever she was nearby.

“Hi, Steve,” Rollins greeted cheerfully as he walked towards them.

Again, he was instantly put off by the overly friendly greeting. They had only known each other for about 48 hours, hadn’t they? He had to make a conscious effort to return the greeting without letting his true feelings show.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” He asked, more or less politely. “What brings you here?”

Danny cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, picking up on Steve’s discomfort instantly.

Rollins either didn’t notice or didn’t let it bother her because she launched into the story of her friend and her cute little babies with great enthusiasm.

Steve kept the smile plastered on his face as she talked. Then he made a show of checking time and gestured to Danny. “Hey, listen, it’s nice bumping into you here. But Danny and I’ve gotta run. My dad should be done with his tests now,” he said to the woman as Danny got up from the chair to go with him. Steve didn’t want to give her any details about their visit here and hoped Danny hadn’t run his mouth either.

With that somewhat curt parting, he turned and walked out of the cafeteria, with Danny following closely behind.

“So, it isn’t just me, hah? She gives off weird vibes to you too?” Danny asked, turning his walk into a half jog to keep up with Steve’s longer strides. Steve was eager to put as much distance as possible between them and Rollins.

“Yeah, you didn’t tell her why we’re here, did you?” Steve asked while stabbing the buttons on the elevator.

“Nah, not really. Just told her that we’re here for your dad. That’s it.”

“Is she following us?” Steve was staring at the shiny surface of the elevator door.

The reflections on it were slightly distorted. But Danny could discern the shapely figure of Rollins in tight-fitting jeans and green sleeveless top, slowly making her way towards them.

“Forget this,” Steve spat, pressing a few more buttons for various floors on the keypad. Then he swiftly walked away to the nearest staircase and started climbing two steps at a time. He knew his behavior was a bit irrational; she was just a colleague after all, not another enemy combatant gaining on him. Nevertheless, he wanted to get away from her as soon as possible.

When they finally reached Steve’s dad’s room, the man was already there, enjoying his lunch. It didn’t look much better than what they had either. John McGarrett insisted that there was no need for them to hang around since he was just going to take his pills and take a long nap anyway. He could see the boys were tired and wanted them to go home and catch a few hours of sleep for themselves. Steve relented and promised his dad that they’d drop by later around dinner time. He made him promise to call them if he needed anything before that and then finally hugged him fiercely, before taking their leave.

#fanfiction series #stargate atlantis #steve mcgarrett #john sheppard #ao3fic #cross over #hawaii five 0 #stargate #fiction #my writing #writers on tumblr #alternate universe #military #Not Catherine Rollins Friendly #No DADT

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