#The man he considered a close friend and maybe even love shatters the last remnants of your hope for the future

[sharkrocket]

daniil crying daniil crying daniil crying

i like to imagine that he almost never cries and i just wanna know what finally makes him break down and ugly cry

OH MAN, I 100 percent agree with this, he strikes me as the kind of person to bottle up everything and try to push all his emotions down, but those emotions end up manifesting in negative/self-destructive ways until the weight of everything finally causes him to break down

There's a fic I love that does this really well, please read Shedding Skin by Plaguedboar, I binged all thirteen chapters in two days and was ugly crying by the end of it

Daniil and Artemy come to a slow harrowing realization about their feelings towards each other, but they both recognize how dangerous and destructive acting on those feelings might be. After Daniil takes a bullet for Artemy, it drives a wedge between them, Daniil pushing Artemy further and further away, as Artemy increasingly believes that Daniil sees him as something dangerous - something with the capacity to destroy him. That if Artemy allowed himself to love him and keep him in the town, Daniil will die

❗ SPOILERS ❗

The reason why Daniil ends up taking the bullet is because he realizes that he's also in love with Artemy, but truly believes that he's not worthy of being loved and that he'll ruin Artemy just like how he's ruined everything else he's touched. So, by dying by saving Artemy's life, it would have have been the best thing he could do for the both of them. However, because Artemy ends up saving him, Daniil becomes devastated and does everything in his power to make Artemy hate him and leave him, if he knows what's good for him. In turn, it causes Artemy to question if he's even capable of loving anyone. Thus, begins a cycle of Daniil being as cold and hateful as possible, throwing insults and being self-destructive, while Artemy keeps trying to save him, which only pushes Daniil to be more hateful and self-destructive....

❗ END SPOILERS ❗

There's a beautiful moment at the end where it culminates in Daniil walking out into the steppe to die, and against all odds, Artemy finds him there. After all this time, after all the insults, the coldness, the violence, Artemy decides to love Daniil despite it all and follows him into the wide expanse. Even then, the Capital Snake is still trying to spit venom - doing everything in his power to get Artemy to leave and let him die, but it doesn't work because Artemy finally sees through the facade. He reaches past the Bachelor's many roles and holds on to the Daniil that's terrified of loving and being loved in return, and that's when Daniil finally breaks and allows his vulnerability to bleed through

PLEASE READ THIS!! The angst and catharsis of it all is immense, and I can't recommend it enough!!

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (9/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2k words

You weren't a morning person, hell, you weren’t even a person in the morning. Therefore, when you woke up to two kids playing with your hair and jumping on your bed, you wanted to strangle them or shove them on the floor. But again, you loved those little demons so you just groaned loudly, clearly irritated and you decided to keep your eyes closed, hoping that your ignorance will make them leave you alone. You squeezed your eyes shut and didn't open them until you heard a familiar voice chuckling.

“Carol told me you aren't a morning person, but this-” James didn't finish his sentence, his lips breaking into a cheeky grin, and as much annoyed as you were at his teasing, you kind of thought he looked gorgeous. Who looked so gorgeous this early in the morning? A smile made its way to your face and you instantly wiped it off, feigning offense.

“Carol? You're already on a first-name basis with my sister?”

“Aw, don't worry, doll. I'm just trying to be friendly with your family or should I say my future family as your mother reminded me ten minutes ago,” he pestered, moving towards you to hand you the cup of coffee in his hand. Bucky winked teasingly when you accepted it, and you mumbled a ‘thank you’.

That pet name made your stomach do some somersaults and you didn't trust yourself enough to speak. It's not like the first time he called you ‘doll’, in fact, he had been calling you that the moment you started fake dating. But it was something about the way he said it as if the word was made for you and nobody could say that word unless it wasn't voiced by him for you. He didn't notice the flush in your eyes and even if he did, he didn't mention it.

“That’s it. You’re done hanging out with my family,” you articulated, “You are officially infected.” 

“Don’t be like that, doll. Come on, breakfast’s ready.”

At the age of 18, when you were finally a college girl, you decided that breakfast was a myth created by Satan. When you lived with your parents, the breakfast consisted of extravagant food like pancakes, waffles and fruits. Once you moved away for college, your breakfast shifted to coffee and maybe a toast if you had the time before your first lecture. And the second you were independent, coffee became your boyfriend, keeping you up at night and also, your best friend, keeping you up in the morning without dozing off in classes.

So, sitting again at a dining table with your family and fake boyfriend/boss was very awkward, to say the least. But of course, your sister had the magical ability where she took an awkward silence and converted it into an uncomfortable conversation.

“We hope we didn't wake you up last night. Nick and I tend to get loud sometimes,” Carol joked and you coughed, choking on your food, and James laughed awkwardly. 

James' hand instinctively came to your back, running calming circles with his palm and you shot a deathly glare to your sister. 

“Oh, we know all about that,” James teased, bringing your chair closer to him. Your eyes widened and you whipped your head towards him so quickly that your neck hurt. What was he saying? This man, your boyfriend, fake boyfriend was a completely different person than your boss (not that you were complaining). He was funny, charming, he made you feel comfortable and something else you weren’t ready to point out just yet.

You could see yourself falling for a man like James. No, he is your boss and sort of criminal. Get your shit together, you told yourself.

After the very awkward breakfast, thanks to Carol. Your mother told you to show James around town and you would have said no but that meant you’d have to stay at home with your family, which was worse. So when James accepted your offer to go to your favorite burger place nearby, you were relieved.

“This burger is amazing, but nothing compared to Barry’s,” James stated. 

You nodded your head, chewing the remnant of food in your mouth properly before speaking, “Nothing compares to Sally and her food.”

You liked being with James, everything about him made you want this, the real thing with him, not the whole faux boyfriend play. You wanted him and you were sure that he didn’t. One look at him was sufficient for anyone to know how handsome he was, and how oblivious he was to the waitress ogling him. He didn’t spare her a glance, he was probably used to the attention that he stopped caring about it. Of course, if you weren't overthinking at the moment, you would have noticed that he didn't care about anyone else - well, except you. 

“The waitress was totally checking you out,” you informed James. You were very jealous, but you wouldn't stop your crush on your boss to stop him from living his life. He had already sacrificed a lot for you, you didn't want to cock-block him on top of that.

“No, she wasn’t,” he huffed, looking at you for any sign that this conversation displeased you the way it did him.

“I swear she was,” you said, “You should ask her out. She’s cute.”

 “No, I’m taken.”

“But you’re not taken, James. This isn’t real,” you retorted and it hurt you so much to say. Sometimes you wished you could be a selfish bitch but you couldn’t do that to James. He deserves someone who would cherish and love him, not give him a faux relationship. “You should ask her out.”

 “Do you want me to?” James asked, his voice was laced with desperation that you couldn't understand. Why would he care about your opinion?

Bucky hoped that you would say no, he needed a sign to know that you wanted him too. His tone was despondent because he was hoping that this could be more. He really wanted it to be. But when you said yes, everything came shattering down for him. You didn’t want him and God, he was so frustrated that he could cry. What sick game was the universe playing with him? He felt like a rat stuck in a cage with cheese right outside, in front of him. Even though he was so close to you, you were still out of his reach.

“You know what?,” he pondered, “Now that I think about it maybe I should ask her out?”

“Like right now?” you questioned, taken aback by his sudden and unexpected change in demeanor.

“Yeah!” he cheered enthusiastically, “No time like the present, right? You can get home by yourself?”

He didn’t wait for your answer, already walking back towards the restaurant, and you murmured a ‘yeah’ which he didn’t even notice because he was already jogging towards the burger place.

When you reached home alone, tears welled up in your eyes, and you ran up to the bathroom to avoid stumbling upon your family. Maybe you shouldn't have pushed him, maybe if you didn’t then he wouldn’t have pursued the waitress. He wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t shove him towards the cute waitress. Why were you such a good person?

Your thoughts were brought to a halt with frantic knocks on the door. Instantly, you wiped your eyes and opened up the door to be met with your sister’s kids. Izzy and Alex didn’t give you any time before getting a hold of your hand and rushing you outside to help them set up the trampoline.

Your family was already out there, and you hoped your face didn’t say, ’I've been crying in the bathroom.’ Your sister and her husband were seated on a blanket which was spread out on the grass, sipping wine, and your parents were admiring their grandchildren.

“Auntie Y/N!” Alex exclaimed and Izzy added, “Help us fix the trampoline please.”

You agreed because those two were the only people in the world that considered you their friend without asking for anything in return. Moreover, it was a good distraction, if you stayed in a room thinking about James, then you would probably lose your sanity. So, once you started setting up the trampoline for the kids, it became somewhat fun, and you almost forgot all about James, and how he must be talking to that girl and how that girl must be flirting with him. You hoped he didn’t call her doll, you knew you were being unreasonable and immature, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Izzy and Alex made their way towards their parents and whispered something about you being so in love with James that his absence made you angry.

You ignored them and the way your sister smiled, you were so focused on fitting the trampoline spring that you did not realize someone was standing behind you until two strong hands came around you, taking the spring from your hand and attaching it to the corner. 

You knew it was James, no one would touch your hand so gently, any other man would have snatched the spring from your hold and mansplained it’s process to you. But James wasn’t doing that, he wanted to be near you, to have your attention fully that is why he took the spring from you. He didn’t undermine you. No, he desired you to notice him, the guy who has been trying all weekend to get you to like him. He wanted you to see Bucky, not your boss, James.

You could feel his head looming over your shoulder, you dared to crane your neck in his direction to find him already looking at you with a smile on his face. You were so dazed in his eyes that you didn’t notice that he was wearing a white shirt instead of the one he wore in the morning. You did not notice that he didn’t leave you to get the waitress’s number, instead he got a customized shirt that read 'I heart Y/N'. You only noticed him.

Furthermore, you didn’t care about anything else at the moment, just him. Bucky eyed your lips longer than he should have and leaned a bit towards you; a question. You answered his question by closing the distance between you and crashing your lips with his. His hands engulfed around your waist, flushing your back against his chest and he kissed you feverishly. 

The kids were right.

You were in love, and that love was reciprocated by the man who was holding you like you were his archer and kissing you like you were the source of his last breath. But both of you were too unaware to realize that the other felt the same way.

Everyone could see that, your mother looked over at your father and your sister looked at her husband, smiling, reminiscing the way they fell in love just like you and Bucky. The kids looked at you both with hope, aspiring to have a love like that in their future, the kind they saw in movies and in the couples around them.

What you didn't realize was that there was one other set of eyes watching you from a car in the distance. Rumlow finally found his rival's vulnerability, and he was going to do everything in his power to exploit and eventually kill Bucky’s weakness, his love, you. 

TAGS:  @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees 

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 06 | End

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Word Count: 7.5k

; Warnings: Penetrative sex, potion influence (? what’s the correct term here), unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, Hoseok licks his fingers...

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: Final chapter! We’re finally here. I bet you didn’t think I’d actually finish this series, haha. Two series down though! SO...I’m very rusty with smut. I haven’t written it since like...October so please be gentle with me! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and have liked reading this series! Please reblog it so others can find it and send me comments/reviews/feedback via an ask or by reblogging this! :D I love to read them all and your support has helped to encourage me to keep going.

Last Chapter ; 

-

Surprisingly, you don’t see Hoseok for a few days after the Winter Solstice Ball. He’s not present at any of the meals, nor do you see him around the castle either. It simultaneously confuses and concerns you as you worry that he’s feeling too awkward to be around you.

Seokjin, at a pre-Christmas meal at his house, had tried to confirm that he wasn’t avoiding you but instead was simply busy with preparing the magical creatures for the Christmas break. There were exchanges with other schools around the world that occurred at Christmas, meaning that Hoseok was constantly travelling with his creatures and taking custody of the foreign creatures which would be used for the next semester. 

You’d viewed that with suspicion as you didn’t recall Hoseok nor Jisoo telling you that, but it did seem like a logical reason. Chaeyoung had backed the argument at the time, her mouth half full of roasted turkey. Given your suspicions about their involvement in trying to get Hoseok and you into a relationship had caused you to watch her suspiciously though.

It was only when Jimin, who had also been present for the meal, had confirmed it with a nod of his head that you’d finally believed them. As far as you knew, Jimin had no involvement and he’d genuinely fascinated with how close the two of you had been at the ball.

So even though it made you feel a little paranoid at his sudden absence after the kiss, you chose to trust your friends and believe what they said. You were already concerned about how to just interact with him when you saw him, you certainly didn’t need to obsess over the fact he ‘might’ be avoiding you.

Instead of letting your mind focus on that though, you instead throw yourself into any work you can do. The Christmas break sees most students gone and only a handful remaining behind. Some of those were because they wanted to continue studying or they didn’t want to leave their friends, others were because they didn’t have a stable home to go back to.

It made your heartache to know that some of your students had such poor home lives but it wasn’t something you could do anything about. Instead, you help to organise visits to Hogsmeade for the students so they can get to enjoy some of their break by just having fun and experiencing some of the Christmas cheer.

You’d also got through all the essays that you had to mark and the first month of the new semester had already been carefully planned out for when the students all returned. This meant that you’d done nearly all your work though and there were only so many books you could read without getting bored.

So you offered your services to the other professor’s who had remained behind, figuring that you could help them out while also reducing your boredom. This is why you were currently in the potion storeroom doing a stocktake; recording how many of each ingredient was left, if there were any that were running low or had run out completely, what potions were stored away and how much of each one.

It wasn’t the most interesting job but it helped to take your mind off things and you felt a little useful at least. You’d only been doing it for half-an-hour before you’d quickly realised why no one liked to do this job, though. The storeroom was bigger than it initially appeared and contained multiple shelving units, with each shelf packed full of ingredients, potions and spare potion-making ingredients.

There was a stale smell to the air which mingled with the faint remnants of potions that had been created in the many cauldrons that littered the room. Alongside that, there was so much dust in the room that you genuinely wondered if anyone used this place. Whilst you weren’t one to advocate using magic for stuff that you could just do by hand, there was no reason to not just do a quick cleaning spell in here.

Then again, you’ve never been amazing at potions so maybe that kind of spell might do something to one of the ingredients. So you just carry on, occasionally sneezing whenever you cause a small dust cloud to appear.

You end up so in the zone that you don’t hear the door open and close, nor the soft footfalls of someone walking in closer. This means you shriek in surprise when you hear your name in a familiar, low voice. Jerking forwards, you knock into the shelves in front of you and wince at the sound of glass hitting each other as bottles wobble dangerously.

“Shit!” Cursing, you miss the bottle with a mother-of-pearl sheen that teeters from the top shelf dangerously. Hoseok, obviously concerned with how he’d surprised you, rushes forward to help stabilise the bottles that are on the verge of smashing all around you.

As he grabs one that’s rolling towards the edge, you reach out to stop another one at the exact moment the top bottle drops. It hits your hand hard, bouncing before hitting the shelving unit and shattering. The potion inside splatters all over you, Hoseok and the shelf. Spiralled steams immediately begin to rise from where it impacts and you vaguely remember that amortentia looks like this.

But then you’re cursing loudly, sputtering as you get a mouthful of it. Without meaning to, you swallow it all and cringe as you feel it slide down your throat. The sound of Hoseok choking causes you to look over and you realise he’s got a mouthful of it as well, his face pinched as he sticks his tongue out from the taste of it.

“What was that?” He asks, blinking rapidly before wiping away what has splashed onto his face. For such a small bottle, it had managed to almost everywhere and even some stray strands of his hair were wet; steam rising slowly.

“If I remember my potions correctly...amortentia.” You say, lips twisting as you stare up at the top of the unit. Why this potion had been stored up there was beyond you as there was nothing else up there but dust. At least no other bottles had broken.

“Ah,” He muses before pausing, eyes widening as something clicks in his head. “Wait, isn’t that the love potion thing?”

“It doesn’t cause people to fall in love. If you remember back to your own potions lessons, no potion is capable of causing true love. Instead, it causes intense infatuation or obsess-oh…” Now your own eyes widen as you stare directly into Hoseok’s, warmth curling within your gut and rushing through your veins until your whole body feels hot.

Almost instantly, the two of you look away from each other. Coughing awkwardly, you shift to the other side of the storeroom, a hand pressed to your cheeks in a futile effort to cool them. Instead, they just feel even warmer.

What happened if two people took it? Especially if those two people already liked each other anyway? Did it just negate itself?

The slow burn within you said no and you let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against the cool wood of the unit next to you.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming in...I wasn’t being quiet or anything.” Hoseok mutters and you glance over, noting the rosy pink gracing the apples of his cheeks. You wonder if it’s because he feels embarrassed or if it’s because he’s experiencing the same, intense feelings that you are.

Inhaling deeply, you tried to calm yourself only to realise that all you could smell was Hoseok. His scent was so strong that it was like he was standing right next to you instead of being on the other side of the room. Almost immediately, you knew it was the potion.

From what you remembered, amortentia caused those feelings for whoever administered it. Considering neither you nor Hoseok had been the one to serve it, you would’ve thought that it would just negate itself. Instead, it seems to have decided that you’ve both administered it to each other.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I was too deep into my work,” Giving him a nervous laugh, you try to reassure him so he doesn’t get too worried that he’s done something wrong. “How come you’re here? I haven’t seen you in days.”

“Err, yeah...sorry. I’ve been really busy. I forgot to tell you that we usually start doing magical creature exchanges around Christmas to help educate our students on foreign creatures while also allowing other nations to learn about our creatures. It’s been a little hectic as I’ve been exchanging hippogriff’s, bowtruckles and nifflers with Castelobruxo in Brazil. Which as you can imagine has been a little stressful because I think I’ve almost lost about six niffler’s and almost lost a hand to one of the hippogriff’s.” He turns away from you to tidy up some of the shelves, missing your sigh of relief as you realise everyone has been right.

He hadn’t been avoiding you.

“I’m finished now though, for the moment. It took me longer than I liked as the fire slugs we got from Castelobruxo have been continuously burning their cages but I have that completely fixed now. I thought that I’d come to find you as we haven’t talked in a few days and I got told you were here. So...here I am.” Giving you a weak smile, Hoseok turns to look at you while shrugging.

He looks slightly uncomfortable now; a sheen on his golden tan skin while his face looks redder than normal. His hands grasp at nothing on his sides and you find yourself hyper fixated on them. Have you ever really noticed how long and slender his fingers are? 

Almost immediately, you imagine those fingers somewhere else and almost moan out loud as you clench inner muscles around nothing. Was this a normal side effect of amortentia? You didn’t know what was happening and you weren’t the best at potions so this was all foreign to you.

At least you’d come to terms with the fact that you were attracted to him and would like to perhaps try a relationship. Otherwise, this would’ve been even more awkward. Not that he knew that yet, which is probably why he’s looking a little distressed.

You don’t feel that it’s the best moment to blurt that out though. Sure, it would reduce any uncomfortableness between you both but was it a good idea to admit you find him attractive too when you’re both suffering the effects of amortentia?

Probably not.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. A few of the others told me that you’d be busy doing this. I didn’t even know that magical creature exchange was a thing!” Cheerfully, you smile at him when he glances at you.

“Still, I should have told you. I’m really sorry.” He mumbles, reaching out to gently brush a scratchy pouch idly. His insistence at apologising causes you to smile and shake your head amused at how genuinely remorseful he is that he’d forgotten to tell you this one thing.

“Honestly, it’s fine. It’s your job, don’t say sorry for doing your job, okay? You’re a great caretaker for the magical creatures and I’m not surprised you forgot to mention it to me. I don’t tell you stuff about my job all the time because you don’t need to know it! So don’t stress.” Reaching for the checklist that you’d been running through earlier, you note down the broken amortentia potion with a small reprimand for the untidy storeroom.

As such, you don’t see the way Hoseok’s face twists as he forces himself to remain quiet.

The two of you remain silent for the next five minutes or so with you attempting to carry on counting the ingredients and potions on the shelves while Hoseok merely lingers in the background. He was so cute.

It would have been a comfortable silence between you both, like you always had with him, if not for the lingering awkwardness of the untalked kiss and the flaring desire of the potion. Shifting awkwardly, your thighs squeeze together in an attempt to relieve some pressure. It doesn’t work and you have to stifle a groan at the small sharp jolt of pleasure.

“Merlin,” Hoseok whispers, causing you to open your eyes and look over at him. His face is even more flushed and you note a slight sheen to his skin as if he’s too hot. If he’s even remotely as warm as you are then it’s entirely understandable and you wonder what you look like to him.

Blowing out a breath, he attempts to fan his face before pinching some of his shirt and pulling at it to get some cooler air. You can tell it doesn’t work because you’ve been subconsciously doing that for the last minute and all it’s done is cause you to imagine Hoseok’s lips brushing along your chest instead of the poor imitation of a breeze.

What finally tipped you over the edge to deciding you’d done enough counting today was yet another glance over to Hoseok. His tall and lithe form has been almost hidden beneath his robes all this time, but an uncomfortable shift causes him to reveal more of his body.

You weren’t normally such a blatant person but you couldn’t help the way your eyes drag down his body, taking in every crease in his crisp white button-up. The key moment that told you to get out of the room now was when your eyes trailed even further below, taking in the leather of his belt.

And the obvious tent in his trousers.

Swallowing so hard that you choke, you quickly move towards the door. The rush of blood throbbing in your ears drowns out Hoseok’s call of surprise, your focus solely on getting out of the overwhelmingly hot room.

The room with the man you’d very recently had decided you were attracted to both romantically and sexually. Not a good combo when you were almost burning from within with lust for him, especially when you know he’s turned on right now.

Running a hand down your face as you rush through the corridors, you can’t stop the quiet groan that leaves your mouth as you do so. Your clothes feel too tight for your body, almost suffocating and the aching need for fingers or something more between your legs is becoming unbearable. 

“Y/N, wait!” Finally, Hoseok’s voice breaks through, causing you to falter as you almost pause. Even shouting, his voice is low and sends shivers through your body. A tiny whine escapes and you push forwards, almost jogging now in your effort to get back to your quarters.

Maybe a shower would get rid of this. A very cold shower, or a cold bath. You’d make a potion to counteract it but you’re nowhere near good enough to combat an advanced potion like that. 

As your door finally comes into view, and for a moment you marvel at how fast you’ve managed to move from the dungeons that house the potions classroom and the store you’d been working into your quarters.

Not quite fast enough though as Hoseok’s long legs finally let him catch up, his hand reaching out and gently grasping at your arm. He’s touching you through multiple layers of clothing and yet your skin is almost burning, the desire to have him against your bare skin stronger than ever.

You get the feeling that he’s experiencing the same as he suddenly retracts his hand, almost as if he’d burned it and lets out a hiss. The sound is sibilant and low, his breath escaping him quick and you feel a strong urge to hear it once more. 

Still, he doesn’t let his surprise or shock stop him. A look at his face shows you that his expression is a mix of concern and worry beneath the flushed cheeks of lust and glassy eyes of desire. 

“I’m sorry, did I do something? I didn’t mean to if I did. Please don’t run away from me!” He begs, one hand moving out towards you almost like it has a mind of its own. The way he looks at it, with a scowl like it’s doing something wrong, almost makes you laugh as you can understand his frustration.

You’ve had to stop yourself from reaching out to him at least twice now.

Instead, you give him a tense smile and try to ignore the fact that he’s standing a little awkwardly. It takes far more effort than you’d like to not look down because you know it’s because he has an erection that is probably uncomfortable. Something he likely doesn’t want to bring attention to.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I promise. I just...I just needed to get out of that room, you know.” You let your words trail off awkwardly, fidgeting with your hands and trying desperately not to look at his crotch. As usual, though, the temptation to look was made all the stronger by your knowledge that you couldn’t just ogle his groin openly.

“Ah...yeah, er, right. It was quite...quite warm.” He pauses in his sentence though, looking a little conflicted and you follow where his eyes are staring. Right down to your chest, which is currently covered by a soft, cream-coloured jumper that you’d happily pulled on this morning.

It feels more than a little stifling right now though.

As soon as he registers where he’s looking, he sputters and starts to resemble a tomato. An absurdly handsome, tall tomato. The longer you let your thoughts linger there then the more stupid they begin to become.

Still, his blatant want fuels your potion addled senses and you start to speak without thinking.

“Do you like me? Romantically and sexually, you know? I’m pretty sure you do. I’m sorry that I didn’t realise, I’m dumb apparently. I know you’ve been trying to subtly tell me for ages now but I finally did! And I liked our kiss and I really want to do it again. Actually, I wanna do more than kiss you-” Hoseok cuts you off by reaching out for your hand, his fingers slightly calloused but still so damn soft.

And hot against you.

“Yes. I like you, a lot. More than you probably realise. I just didn’t want to push you or make you feel awkward-” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him, twisting your fingers until you can thread them through Hoseok’s.

A slight tug has him following you with wide eyes, the door to your classroom being pushed open and closed as soon as he’s inside. Without another word, you push him up against the wood while grasping at his shirt to tug him closer.

Your lips connect with ease and this time, it’s nothing like the previous kiss. Where that was chaste, this had the flames of lust burning deep within and you moaned out as Hoseok licked into your mouth, stoking that heat within you even further. 

Pressing yourself to his body, you let one hand trail along his shirt and sigh as you finally get to confirm that he is exactly as lean and toned as you’d initially thought. Your touch causes him to shiver, breaking away from your lips to press open-mouthed kisses to your jawline almost desperately.

“Hoseok,” Whispering into his ear, you let your other hand run your fingers through his hair before tugging on some of the black strands. “Ah, please.”

You’re not sure what you’re asking him but you don’t care either. Anything he can give you, you’ll take. 

His fingertips scorch your skin as he lets them dance over your waist, slipping beneath your jumper with a hunger he can only show. As he does so, he captures your mouth once more and kisses you with such passion and strength that you’re momentarily left breathless.

Trying to kiss him back with equal fervour while your fingers move to unbutton his shirt, losing grip on them as you refuse to move away to look down. It causes him to laugh into it, the sound pleasant and light, before he gently pushes your hands away.

Pulling away from the kiss, he presses his forehead against your own and gives a breathy smile. Glassy eyes and dilated pupils greet you while his breath hits your skin with each puff as he tries to centre himself. And then he almost looks sad; his brow creasing and the corners of his lips turning down.

“We shouldn’t...not like this. I...I really want, oh fuck I want you so bad. But this wasn’t how I imagined...you deserve better. More romantic or some-” Reaching up, you gently place a finger on his lips to quiet him. He does so instantly and you’re pleased that he doesn’t look annoyed at your interruption.

“It’s not what I imagined either but I’m not turning it down. If anything, I’m glad that potion is helping to bolster my confidence because I doubt I’d have got the courage to do anything. So, please, don’t worry about me. I want you and I’m fully aware of myself. All that potion is doing is bolstering my feelings.” You hadn’t known if that was something he was worried about and you wanted to soothe any fears he might have.

It’d be understandable because part of you is also worried that he’s only doing this because the amortentia potion is fuelling an insatiable need within. The way his eyes widen at your words before his whole body relaxes let’s you know that has been a concern of his, causing you to smile, and reach up to cup his cheeks before pulling him into a quick kiss.

“Now, please carry on and don’t stress. We’ll talk properly after, okay?” Hoseok nods and you bite your lip, trying not to laugh at how eager he looks once more. 

He doesn’t kiss you again though, instead turning and tugging on your hand. Brows rising, you follow him before watching in astonishment as he sweeps your desk clear of any papers or stationery. Part of you wants to complain, but the thought instantly vanishes when he backs you up until you can feel the solid wood against the backs of your thighs.

“Hoseok! My desk? Seriously?” Giggling, you glance around your classroom and feel a little scandalised. The door to your quarters is only a few metres away but he has an almost playful look in his eyes when he grins back at you. You’d protest doing something like this in your classroom louder if it wasn’t for the fact that you were desperate for him.

He doesn’t respond to those comments though, instead reaching out and ghosting his fingers over your cheek. It makes you shiver as you feel that touch all over.

“Once more...you want this, right? You’d want this even without the potion influence?” You wonder how much amortentia addles the mind but you reason to yourself that you’ve thought about this with him for the last week. About him between your thighs, deep inside you and pleasing you.

“I want it. I’ll want it after, too.” Purposefully lowering your voice, you look at him from beneath your lashes before reaching out and hooking your fingers around his belt. Now he’s the one laughing, the sound low and husky as he lets you pull him forward.

As if you’re magnetically attracted, your lips meet his once more and you sigh into his mouth as he pressed himself against you. Whimpering, you slide your hands around his waist and try to pull him closer. A wiggle on the hard surface has Hoseok’s erection pressing onto your clit, causing you to moan out.

He mirrors the noise, the sound hoarse from his throat and you find yourself grinding against him as well as you can. It doesn’t quite work as you have nothing to brace your legs with but neither of you seems to mind. Thankfully though, Hoseok seems to understand and begins a slow roll of his hips that drives you wild.

But it’s not enough though and you shift away from him, dragging your hands down his front and enjoying the way he moans as your nails scrape through his shirt. Reaching his belt, you fumble to undo it and frown in frustration as you struggle with it.

“Let me,” Hoseok says, undoing the buckle with practised ease and slipping the leather through the meal. The sound of it sparks something inside you, causing you to writhe on the desk and beg him to hurry up. A quirk of his lips tells you that he’s amused at your insistence.

Before he does anything else though, he reaches forward and pushes your skirt along your thighs. The soft material only adds to the overstimulation of your already wired body, causing goosebumps to form all over. 

His fingertips on the freshly exposed skin feel even better though, the sensitive skin of your inner thighs sparking fireworks of pleasure and delight at his touch. Letting your head fall back, you just let yourself focus on the feelings and whine softly, pussy clenching around nothing. 

Under normal circumstances, you would want to explore all of Hoseok and have the favour returned in full. You’d want the full experience with plenty of foreplay; his mouth and fingers delving into places that only he’s allowed to see.

You’re too desperate though and you pull your skirt up, shifting until you’re laying back on the desk and trying to tug your underwear off. It’s hard to do on the desk though and you’re thankful when Hoseok takes over, his fingers hooking into the soft material and then you’re feeling cool air.

“Fuck.” He curses, eyes focused solely between your legs. You’re almost embarrassed to realise how wet you are, the underwear in his hands sporting a prominent damp batch that has a shiny spot you can see even from here. 

Being this close to him and now being half-naked, you want him more than ever and you try to grasp at his wrist, needing him to touch you down there. Anything you can get, you’ll take. Hoseok lets you take his hand, guiding his fingers until they’re pressing against the hardened nub of your clit.

The sound you let out is obscenely loud as you move his hand until he’s touching you in just the right way to send arrows of pleasure through your body. Letting go, you let him carry on and enjoy the heat of him on you, sighing in relief at finally getting what you wanted.

It’s not enough though and you try to shift your hips, lifting them in an attempt to line his fingers with your entrance. He can tell what you’re trying to do though and grins, the expression causing his cheeks to rise while his eyes sparkle down at you.

“Do you just want to do it? You’re already really wet.” He asks, raising a brow and you nod quickly. You don’t want to waste any more time and the thought of having his cock in you is more than you can bear. It doesn’t stop you from whining in displeasure as he takes his hand away to finish undoing his trousers.

To try and combat that, you let your fingers take over from where he was. You know your body better than anyone and almost instantly you’ve got a good rhythm going. The sight of him before you, cheeks flushed with his hair looking ruffled and his shirt creased, is unbelievably erotic.

Unzipping his trousers, he pushes them down his thighs alongside his underwear. You don’t even get to see what kind he wears but you find that you don’t care. Beneath the ends of his white button-up shirt, a prominent erection stands proudly towards you. The tip is swollen and red, unsurprising given how long he’s had it for now.

He’s not the longest, nor the thickest, but you don’t care. Hoseok’s cock is quite possibly the most perfect thing you’ve seen at that moment and all you want is for him to be inside you.

Before you can vocalise that though, he’s suddenly grabbing his wand before his trousers fall to the floor. Resting the tip on your belly, he mutters a quick spell and you realise that he’s got more control of himself than you do as he’d remembered to cast a contraceptive spell. A second spell on both you and him protects you from any diseases or infections, after which he practically throws his wand to the side.

You’d protest his lack of care about something so fragile but you can’t bring yourself to care when he moves forward, letting the tip of cock rest against your pussy. The weight, almost surprising given how it defies gravity, is delightful on your clit and he presses it down, moving in a slow roll that has you sighing.

More wetness coats your pussy, which in turn coats him and you grasp one of his hands. Linking your fingers together, you pull him a little closer and mewl as he slides against the sensitive bundle of nerves once more.

“Please, Hoseok. Please” You beg, causing him to smile with satisfaction. 

Placing his free hand on your left leg, he pushes it up a little and out to the side, stretching you open a little more for him. Shivering as the air cools the slick excitement between your legs, you go to protest. It’s cut off though by the feeling of him penetrating you, the blunt head of his cock slipping into you with minimal resistance thanks to how wet you’ve gotten.

Moaning loudly, your eyes close as he stretches you with each inch. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept with anyone and the ragged cry Hoseok pulls from you is directly caused by how good he feels inside you. It’s like you can feel every inch of him as he slides deeper within, the nerves in your walls firing sparks of pleasure continuously until he finally bottoms out.

For a moment, the two of you simply stay in position and bask in the beautiful feeling. You’re panting a little and trying to resist the urge to shift your hips to encourage him to move. One glance at Hoseok tells you to let him move at his own pace.

His face is pinched, brows knitted together and his jaw looking sharper than ever as he clenches his teeth. The fingers wrapped in yours squeeze tightly and after a few seconds, he lets out a guttural groan that sounds as if it was ripped from his gut.

“Shit...Merlin’s beard, you’re so...I don’t know if I’m going to last,” He admits, his cheeks burning redder than ever. “I’m sorry if I don’t. I’ve imagined...this is…” 

Grunting, he slowly pulls out before sliding back into you with one fluid motion of his hips. A broken cry escapes your mouth at the pleasure and you reach down to rub at your clit. You’re just as desperate as he is to orgasm, to feel him thick inside you as you convulse around him while waves of pleasure leave you boneless.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just...move. Please.” You reassure him, trying to smile before your eyes roll back into your head at the second thrust. Still, your words let him gain some confidence and he continues to move in slow and steady snaps of his hips, each drag of his cock better than the last.

Lifting onto your elbows, you risk a glance down to take in the sight of him thrusting into you. His cock is soaked with your wetness and you realise suddenly that it’s causing lewd sounds every time he moves. You’d be embarrassed at it but the sound is strangely erotic to you; the knowledge that he’s caused you to become this wet and experience this much pleasure intoxicating.

The two of you don’t speak for a minute or so after that, far too caught up in just enjoying yourselves and all the feelings that course through your bodies. You suppose the potion is a little to blame for the almost selfish nature of the sex, but there’s also more than enough longing and desire on his side mixing with eagerness and attraction on your own.

“Fuck, I think-I think I’m gonna cum.” Hoseok pants out, his whole chest moving as he gasps out from the strenuous effort of sex. His face has a sheen to it and the damper patches on his white shirt indicate how much he’s sweating from it. Probably also a little from just how warm you’d both ended up.

Moaning out in response, you tip your head back against the cool wood of your desk and let your hand do its work. The combination of his cock inside you and your fingers playing on your clit blend together perfectly and you writhe wildly.

“Ah...shit.” His entire body going rigid as he pushes into you as far as he can get. Watching him, you cry out at how beautiful and sexy he looks as he orgasms; his jaw tightly clenched to show off that beautiful line of bone while the tendons in his neck strain. The hand entwined with yours squeezes harder than ever and he seems to just inside you in tiny movements, almost like he’s extending his pleasure without wasting too much effort.

You can feel the subtle twitch of his cock deep within you and the knowledge that he’s orgasming inside you has your fingers swirling on your clit harder and faster than before. Tightening your inner muscles, you relish in the strangled moan Hoseok lets out and the increase of feeling.

Not long after he lets out a final sigh, deeper than anything else, and he strokes his free hand down your thigh. It’s almost an encouraging touch and even though he���s finished, he moves in you with a slow and lazy stroke. The slight wince he has tells you that he’s probably a little overstimulated but he doesn’t complain and you cry out as your whole body tenses up.

Back bowing and head pressing into the desk, you tighten your eyes closed as high pitched whines and breathes escape your throat. Hips rolling in a circular motion, you continue to stroke at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs until the sensation becomes too much. Pulling your hand away, you’re surprised when Hoseok grabs at it suddenly.

He slips out of you, his cock rapidly becoming flaccid nows that’s had his fill and you shift at the sensation of liquid that’s slightly thicker than your excitement beginning to leak from you. The knowledge that it’s come from him is surprisingly arousing and you try to push the thought away.

Something not helped by the fact that Hoseok takes the fingers that had been so busy with your clit and licks them clean, groaning out quietly as he finally gets to taste you. It’s probably not the way he imagined doing it, but Merlin, it’s certainly an attractive way.

“That was good,” He finally says, letting your hand drop and you miss the feel of his tongue already. “Better than I’ve ever imagined...and I imagined it a lot.”

He’s flushed from the intense exercise but the bashful look to his eyes tells you that some of that pink tinge is also from his shyness. You can’t help but grin at the fact he’s getting quiet after just fucking you so hard on your desk.

Sitting up slowly, you stretch and enjoy the satisfying feeling of multiple muscles in your body and the overall sense of contentment that washes through you. Reaching forward, you wrap your arms around his neck after he’s tugged his trousers and underwear back up before kissing him gently.

“How flattering, Professor Jung. I feel honoured.” There’s a hint of teasing in your voice but you keep it light enough to know that you’re not being mean to him. Instead, you’re pleased by his admission that he’s thought of you sexually. Perhaps you don’t want to know about what his teenage fantasies were but you’ll happily accept his adult fantasies.

It works to make him snort a laugh and shake his head, stroking his hands along your waist.

“And as amazing as the sex was...I’m feeling a little tired and sore from the desk. So let’s take this into my quarters, shall we?” Pushing him, you hop off the desk and let your skirt fall back into place. It’s creased now and there’s likely wet stains on the back alongside what will eventually become semen stains too.

Hoseok doesn’t follow you as you move towards the door leading to your bedroom, causing you to turn and give him an arched brow in question. Opening the door without looking at it, you smile brightly before winking.

“Well? Do you want me to be alone in my bed?” Turning away from him, you quickly pull off your shirt and throw it out of the door for him to see. It’s only seconds before you hear the sound of him following quickly, causing you to smile to yourself.

-

Yawning widely, you stretch out your arms and almost hit Hoseok in the face. Toes brushing against his leg as you do so, he lets out a laugh that’s more movement than sound. The rumble of his chest beneath your cheek is comforting and you sigh deeply in contentment. It had been only half an hour or so since you’d had sex and what was likely only three hours since you’d both fucked the first time.

You had to give Hoseok credit; he knew exactly what he was doing.

Just the thought of the frantic sex on your desk had you heating up in dual embarrassment and desire. Embarrassment because...well it was your desk! In your classroom. How were you ever going to look at the table without remembering what had happened on top of it?

The desire was a more obvious, and expected, emotion though. Experiencing that again would be very welcomed on your behalf and you suspected that Hoseok would be just as open to it.

Nuzzling your head into him, you took in a deep breath to get a concentrated dose of Hoseok mixed with sex. It was a heady scent and you squeeze your thighs, feeling the wetness that was still there. 

Despite the horny monster he’s released, you feel a sense of tired contentment between you both. Hoseok hasn’t said anything since you’d both collapsed onto the bed after a rigorous second round and you hadn’t wanted to interrupt it yet. It was nice to just enjoy the tired aftermath of sex without the pressure of talking anything out.

Even if you knew that you both had to.

As if he can tell what you’re thinking, Hoseok takes a deep breath that has your head rising.

“I didn’t intend for...well for this. I swear,” He says, his voice a little nervous and you can tell he’s uncertain about how you’re going to respond now the potion has run its course. “I’m sorry for knocking the potion over, it was stupid of me.”

Pushing up onto your elbow, you reach up and place a finger against his lips to stop him from saying anything else. He looks at you, his cheeks adorably full from this angle and his eyes dark while he waits for you to say whatever you’re thinking.

What you’re thinking is that his lips are so soft beneath your fingertip, plush and swollen from the frantic kisses. Before you can think of anything else, you shift forward until you’re kissing him once more, the movement slow enough for him to stop it if he didn’t want to.

He lets you though, one hand coming up to cup the back of your neck in support, and opening his mouth to deepen it. A quiet moan leaves your throat as you slant your mouth against his, tilting your head to find the perfect angle and shivering as he slips his tongue into your willing mouth. 

Any hint of a conversation disappears between you both, his free hand running down your naked back in a slow stroke that’s so sensual it has you quivering. But you know that he understands that you’re not annoyed at him; actually the exact opposite.

Pulling away, you lick at your lips and note the unfiltered lust in his eyes as he watches you do so, before smiling at him. Brushing some of his dark hair away from his face, admiring just how handsome he was.

“Don’t worry about it, honestly. I was fully aware of myself and wanted it. I already told you that and I meant it. The potion just helped me to get over my inhibitions. Trust me, I was already considering this after the Winter Solstice Ball. I just didn’t know how to get over the hurdle of being nervous about it.” Now it’s his turn to comfort you, his fingertips tracing across your face in a featherlight touch.

It’s almost painfully tender and the sparkling warmth in his eyes tells you that there’s something much deeper there for him. But you don’t push and he doesn’t spill. He’ll tell you when he’s comfortable with it, and you’ll be there to hear it.

Instead, he opens up with an entirely different kind of vulnerability. The confidence he’s shown so far disappears and you note fondly that it makes him look younger. Something he’d probably hate you saying.

You’ve finally figured out why he never likes conversation about the age difference between you both, at least.

“Really? Do you really mean that? I mean, about considering it?” Hoseok sounds awkward, his voice pitching higher than normal at one point and causing him to cough while his cheeks darken. The urge to coo is unbelievable.

“Yes, I mean it. I was a little taken aback when I first came here and I saw how much you’d changed since I’d last seen you. But you became one of my closest friends and the last few weeks has had me looking at you...in a slightly different light. You were...unreal at the ball and it made me realise a lot of things. And the kiss spurred that on, too. I talked with Jisoo and she helped me to see that...you’re not just her little brother. I’d been putting that label on you in an attempt to keep you at arm’s length, but I don’t want that now. I don’t need to, because I’ve accepted that I find you attractive and I would be open to more if you wanted it.” The words fall from your mouth in a rush, taking advantage of the confidence you had to get this out.

“I want it.” You don’t even get to say anything else because Hoseok interrupts you with those three simple words, the syllables fast as his enthusiasm takes over. Snorting quietly, you kiss his cheek affectionately and enjoy it when it pinkens once more.

“Someone’s eager.” Teasing him, you roll onto your back and let out a sigh as you stare up at the blank ceiling. There’s a slight chill in the air, common in such an old castle as Hogwarts, but you feel your nipples pebble from it. Shuddering, you go to tug the blanket over your naked body and Hoseok’s.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a while, so yeah. But we can talk about that more later if you want?” Looking over at him, you smile at the happiness on his face and note how he seems so much lighter than before. The knowledge that you’ve done this to him is a little overwhelming, causing you to let out a sudden breath.

And then you notice that he’s not only happy in the metaphorical sense but also in the physical sense, a prodding against your thigh causing you to peek under the blanket. Sure enough, his well-endowed erection was very prominent against you.

Raising an eyebrow, you look up at Hoseok with a mix of exasperation, amusement and admiration.

“Already? Three times in an evening?” Now Hoseok is the one smirking, the palm of his hand pressing flat against your stomach before slowly creeping down your body. The low lying flame of desire that had settled burns back to life now and you subtly wriggle in your bed, thighs opening as your body tries to get those long fingers where you want them.

“One of the benefits of a younger man,” Wiggling his brows, he grins when you chuckle before pushing at his chest. “If our age difference is ever mentioned again then I want this to be the thing you remember most.”

And with that, he flashes his teeth in a mischievous smile before disappearing under the blanket, ignoring your shriek of laughter at how his fingers tickle. That laughter soon dissolves into a moan when he reaches his destination though and as you grasp his hair tightly, glad that you finally took the plunge and realised what a wonderful man Jung Hoseok is.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Only For A Moment Epilogue

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin​

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: On a peaceful afternoon you reflect on the past couple of years while Bucky naps in your lap. 

Warnings: None

A/N: Wow. Weird. Somehow more weird than posting the last chapter... Endings are strange things y’all. Only For A Moment is over, like really really over. 

These two had an intense journey together throughout “Part One” and I’m really glad so many of you went on that ride with me. Now before we head into a new side of this story (and likely a new title) I thought it would be good to kind of post a little wrap up and something that can live with Part Two for those who maybe don’t want to read all of Part One and the drabbles.

As always, you’re all wonderful. 

(P.S. If you’re seeing this and want to read Only For A Moment, the Master lives both on my profile and linked in the admin profile above.)

TAGS ARE OPEN 

“Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature.”

The line from Frankenstein makes a lump rise in your throat. It feels like a lifetime ago that Mr. Goldstein quoted it to you in his cozy little bookshop in Bucharest. At the time it made you think of Bucky, the man whose depths you’d only skimmed. Now, a continent and a few years separated you both from the people you’d been as you stood in that shop. 

You hadn’t read Frankenstein since your time in Romania but when you saw a copy in a bookshop in Wakanda you knew you had to have it. As you devoured the words you could almost smell the shop, hear the gentle cadence of Mr. Goldstein’s voice, feel the soft fur of the shop cat Victor. 

It seemed wrong to feel homesick for Romania. Bucharest was supposed to be a stopgap, a place to lay low while you attempted to figure out what it meant to keep living your life after what Hydra had done.

There had been times there where you’d considered ending it, so tired of fighting and so unsure of what it was you were even fighting for. Your family - small and chosen and so precious to you - had been erased, any semblance of home destroyed. They’d even made you feel like a stranger in your own body, this body they honed to be their weapon. Hell, you could disassociate for days, just a ghost trapped in a shell she didn’t understand and didn’t want. It wasn’t like you were living so why go on? 

But you did. Some part of you unwilling to let them win, hearing your brother Nix’s voice in your head reminding you that giving up meant letting the bastards win. 

Then Bucky happened. A smile tugs at the edges of your mouth as you look away from the book pages to the lake sparkling in the later afternoon sun, remembering those early days. 

He’d recognized you from your time in Hydra, though he hadn’t remembered the details until you talked about your first encounter - he’d tried to save you, and he did get you out of the facility, though you’d been caught days later. When he sought you out you hadn’t trusted him but it took mear hours for you to see your own reflection in him. 

You were both broken, but in a way that only the other could truly understand. Bucky saw you, all sharp edges and shattered pieces, and didn’t flinch once.

It had been rough at times, each of you so terrified of what may come, of who may come, even of the people in the mirror. Still - despite nights punctuated with night terrors, days peppered with flashbacks, and moments of deep dissociation - you held tight to one another, weathering the storms as they came. It made you both stronger, together. 

So, without meaning to you built something of a life in Bucharest. Days spent training for unknown battles to come or helping in the bookshop nights together watching old movies and learning bit by bit how to be human beings again. 

For a time it had felt like enough. 

Losing Mr. Goldstein had been the beginning of the end of your time there though. You’d both been in one place for too long and without the old man’s grounding warmth… well, there was nothing left to tie you down. Together you laid out a plan to start again in Vienna, fresh identities, a clean slate, still on the run but this time together. You never got there though - Helmut Zemo made sure of that. 

A chill passes up your spine as you remember seeing Bucky’s face on the staticky TV at the laundromat, the terror that grabbed you as you watched SWAT descent on the home you’d shared. It had felt like the sky was falling.   

Even now you struggled to comprehend how everything that followed had only taken a little more than a week. You’d chased them across Europe to get to Bucky only to watch in horror as his worse nightmare came true - being brought back under someone’s control, being The Soldier again - and been unable to stop it. From there you’d fought the goddamn Avengers, had your chest clawed open by someone who was now your friend, been arrested, tortured, rescued. It was one hell of a week. 

The months that followed had hurt almost as much. You didn’t know where Bucky was, if he was truly safe, or what he was going to put himself through to make sure he wasn’t a threat to your safety ever again. Sometimes you thought you wanted to throttle him for leaving and others you knew you’d forgive him anything as long as you had him back. 

There had been a few silver linings to your time apart because, well, nothing made close friends like being international fugitives. 

After Steve, Natasha, and Hill sprung those who were interested from The Raft, yourself included, you’d laid low with what was left of The Avengers. They became your friends and, in Steve’s case, family. You trusted each of them, even Nick Fury, with your life and knew you’d give anything to protect them. 

Leaving them behind had been hard. Even though it meant being with Bucky, even though it meant safety, the temptation to say no to T’Challa’s offer to shelter in Wakanda was stronger than you’d ever admit to anyone other than Steve. 

At least Steve was able to visit here and there bringing updates and even letters from your wayward friends. 

Sam bitched about Steve’s antics, how he had to cook everything with you gone, and always asked after your wellbeing. Natasha entertained you with explicit tales of her international exploits, proving that few could say no to her - in another life you certainly wouldn’t have been able to. Wanda’s letters were filled with questions you knew she didn’t ask anyone else - about love and loss and being different from those around you, sometimes it was easy to forget she was still so young. 

A soft snore brings you back to the present. Bucky’s head rests on your thigh, sound asleep. The soft lapping of the lake, the humming of cicadas, the goats romping about - one munching on the remnants of your picnic - it was all so peaceful, this life you were building here. Gratitude didn’t even begin to cover how you felt. 

You missed Sam, Wanda, Nat, Steve, even Hill, and Fury deeply but you’d forged strong bonds here in Wakanda too. 

When you decided to stay you couldn’t have foreseen the sisterhood you shared with all of the Dora Milaje but especially Okoye. Without hesitation, she’d brought you into the fold, unfazed and, honestly, unimpressed with your ability. She trained you just as hard, if not harder than the rest of her soldiers - you had catching up to do after all - and made sure your training was varied so you were honing your power and your body at the same time. You’d come to not only respect her as a leader but to trust her deeply as a friend. 

Much to Bucky’s chagrin you and T’Challa loved to poke fun at the fact that you’d basically all tried to kill one another when you first met. He found it far less amusing than the two of you did, but if you didn’t laugh about it what else could you do. T’Challa was a strong king, though you’d argue he was an even better man. You were often in awe at his level of compassion and wisdom. 

Shuri, was honestly the most amazing human you’d ever encountered. You had to often remind yourself she was half your age, which wasn’t too hard when she brought up some new trend or artist you were completely unaware of - maybe you were getting old. Even if she tried to write it off, she’d given you Bucky back by doing what seemed impossible in removing the effects of decades of torture and conditioning. Then she went even further to help you understand your own inner workings in regards to your telekinetic abilities and the enhancements Hydra had forced on you. 

There were so many others too. Nakia, though often out in the field, had become a fast friend. T’Challa and Shuri’s mother Ramonda, with her gentle welcoming spirit - she and Bucky had actually formed quite a bond. Even, M’Baku most days, was someone you’d welcome to your dinner table - only when it was a meatless night that was. 

A grin makes your cheeks ache. 

You’d been trying to convince T’Challa to allow Steve and the others to visit for the last few weeks. Just imagining Okoye, Natasha, and Nakia together was enough to make you giddy with excitement. And while the world may not survive it, the thought of Sam and M’Baku bantering was enough to make a little laugh bubble from your chest. 

Bucky shifts in your lap a bit at the noise. Tenderly you pull a lock of this thick dark hair away from his face. Suddenly you’re overwhelmed by just how much you love this man with his gentle heart and easy smile. 

You’d endured a fraction of what he had and it was almost enough to destroy you. But James Barnes was made of far stronger stuff than most. Nothing they did had truly broken him, you suspected there was nothing in this world that could. 

Tears sting your eyes. 

“Doll?” Bucky’s soft voice almost startles you. Looking down into his grey-blue eyes, you force yourself to swallow more tears. “Sweetheart, what is it?” His fingers, calloused but so very gentle, wipe a tear from your cheek. 

“Just happy,” you say with a shaky voice. 

It was more than that. This was the happiest you had ever been in your life. For the first time, you looked toward the future with hope and excitement without the looming shadows of fear and uncertainty threatening. 

Maybe you’d grow old on this little farm, Bucky caring for the goats and helping out others in the area, you working with the Dora Milaje maybe finding some new passion to pursue. Or maybe you’d move into the city, convince Bucky to take classes, maybe in literature or creative writing. Maybe a little of both. 

Maybe you could figure out a way for Steve and the others to be granted refuge in Wakanda as well. The idea makes you dream of Friendsgiving meals, potluck Sundays, and movie nights. 

“I’m glad, baby,” he says with a sweet smile. 

[regdaran]

Revenant~Noir Chapter 1

Revenant~Noir Part 1

(Marinette)

  It had been months, months since the akuma attacked. Months since she saw her best friend and love of her life die to try and save her. She had barely left her house since then. The akuma disappeared as soon as it came. Alya had called everyday, tying to keep her from completely closing in on herself. It hurt, it still hurts, but she was still Ladybug. That, and Alya (With Tikki's  help) had finally convinced her to go out on a patrol. It hadn't taken much, not after she was told about how Nino was nearly put in the hospital by some new threat. Something that shattered his 'Shelter' with a single attack. As much as Marinette still wanted to lay down and sob, an entire month of that had done nothing but put everyone left in danger. So here she was staking out an abandoned  metro station in the middle of the night, in hopes of finding this black clad shadow. This new villain that rushed through alleyways and streets to brutalize random citizens and then vanish as quickly as they appeared. "What do we know about you?" Ladybug asked herself. First, she had to consider how they only ever seemed to strike at night, and all of the attacks were at or near entrances to La Petite Ceinture and the Catacombs. A cold shiver went up Marinettes spine. The last time she had to deal with the catacombs involved a newly awakened caster, and a small army of skeletons. Not pleasant memories. In-fact, she wouldn't have made it out of the tunnels if not for... "Chat..." She whispered under her breath.

There was movement. The shaking of a bush near the station entrance.

Ladybugs head shot up at the sound. While she couldn't hear as well as Rena Rouge, her miraculous still enhanced her hearing a fair bit.

There it was again, movement by a walking path that leads into the stations tunnel.

"Hey, are sure we should be hanging out here tonight?"  said a the young voice of a boy. They entered a space in front of the station. "Dude, chill out. A few people come by here. Its remote enough that the cops can show up quickly, and if we need to we can make an escape in the tunnels."  This was said by an older boy, about 17 maybe 18. Now that she could see the pair, she could definitely rule them out as the suspects to her mystery villain. The kid was in baggy shorts and a baggier hoodie with the sleeves rolled up. The older one had jeans and a tee shirt on, he also had had a headband on and the sound of a chain bouncing against itself. His clothes weren't what drew her attention, the switch knife he kept opening and closing in increasingly complicated ways was the focus of her gaze. "That's not what I meant and you know it! Dude the others all got hit around places like this, dude... Jackie is still in the I.C.U." The boy stopped just outside the entrance to the underground part of the station. "I know, but don't worry about it. Ever since that akuma attack a month ago, tourists have been flooding the city. Lots of cash filled pockets and purses that need cleaning out. Even better, no one has seen Ladybug out an' about since Chat Noir died! It's our time to shine!" The older one said, evading the topic the younger one was trying to bring up.

"Okay." Ladybug said to herself. She understood that she had been gone for awhile, but where muggers and street thieves really capitalizing on it this much.

"Now all we gotta do is wait, and even if Ladybug was done crying over her precious 'Chat Noir'  I doubt she would even come by this part of the city."  The older one said, the emphasis he placed on Chats name made her blood boil. Just as she was about to jump down and relieve some of her frustrations, the younger boy screamed and scrambled toward the older one. "What! What the hell is wrong with you?!"  The younger one just cowered and hid behind the older one, pointing a trembling hand toward the underground entrance he had been at moments before. "Fine! ill go and 'take care' of whatever spooked you so bad."  He started walking toward the entrance and made to go down the steps. Then he left the ambient light behind and went into the darkness.

Ladybug heard him fish around in his pockets the chains on his belt making ample sounds. A flashlight clicked on and light seemed to seep out of the station. He had left the line of sight of both the boy and Ladybug at this point. "I swear to GOD! If this is just another big rat or stray dog, I'm actually going to-"  Another scream ripped through the night. Where as the previous one was filled with fear and panic, this was full of terror and pain. It was a throaty thing that cut off abruptly. Then the light went out.

Ladybug wasted no time in getting down from her vantage point and started running past the now fleeing kid and through the entrance of the station and into the abandoned tunnel. She could hear footsteps echoing through out the tunnel but she couldn't tell where they were coming from started to look around, but it was too damn dark, she brought her yoyo up and activated its light. At the bend of one of the tunnels a shadow left her sight, carrying a limp teenager. Again, she was running. She really wished that who or what ever this thing was had chosen a lair that was more yoyo friendly. As it was, she was having to sprint after a barely visible figure that seemed to out pacing her by simply walking. It was 30 minutes before she realized she was lost in the catacombs. Not the abandoned metro that she entered but the catacombs...  Sconces along regular intervals lit up the cavern walls. Crap. Why didn't she notice the change in location when she was following it? She had gone through what she had assumed was a collapsed tunnel, maybe it was really a breach into the crypts.

She opened up her yoyo, and tried to bring up her map. Which isn't working... great. What about calling Carapace? no signal. How did she not have any signal? Her carrier was magic, literal magic.  She was going to have to talk to Tikki about this later. For now, she had to either find the shadow or find her way out. Both presented challenges, however if this was the same thing that nearly put Nino in the hospital after only a brief fight, she would rather not fight it in an enclosed space. All she could see where rows and rows of bones and remains, it took her an hour  before she found something she remembered. Which was a section of the wall that looked like the remains in it had exploded outward. One of the places that the freshly minted necromancer, from several months ago, had raised  one of his 'Skeletal guards'. The entire team was still stumped on how they reanimated remains got weapons and armor.

"Tell me!"  A familiar yet cold voice commanded. "I don't know! I don't know! Please let me go, I won't tell no body your here. Please!"  The teenager said voice cracking in more than one place. Ladybug became flush with the wall. Where was that coming from? "Tell me who she is. Now."  The first voice demanded of the teenage. There was another crater in the wall, where an undead was summoned. A hallow in the stone work left by the energies the necromancer was wielding. Oh crap... she new exactly where she was. Near the center of the Catacombs, where the necromancer had created a literal hole in the wall. He had used his new workforce to carve out a new section in the catacomb walls. Ladybug had seen it exactly once, when she had been lured into a trap and then subsequently rescued by the rest of the team. She turned her head around the corner and saw 3 things which chilled her to the bone. 3 Things that would haunt her dreams for weeks to come.

A rotting pile of filth, meat, and bones. Which, from the shredded remnants of robes, must have been the necromancer. Why was he dead, from the checks they all did, he had left Paris.

The teenager from earlier, now being held up by his throat, and pressed against the wall. The skin of his neck was pale and the veins were a dark unhealthy color. As though oil was being pumped through those arteries.

And a man in black leather with a long tail like belt trailing behind him, black and green ring prominently on his finger. Mask hugging his pale face. His hair was a dull blonde like filthy sunlight. He was holding up a teenage kid with one hand, while positioning the other hand in a threatening manner over the head of his young victim.

It couldn't be. It was impossible... "Chat?"  Marinette said before she could stop herself. HE TURNED. Quickly, he drop the kid and stared at her. "You."  he said. His tone quiet and hushed. Now that he was no longer lined up in a profile view. She could see his chest. She could see the hole in his upper torso, right where a heart would be. Ladybug fell back onto her rear. What was going on? Had she hit her head? Maybe Volpina was back, and it was an Illusion. Yes! that's right. This was an illusion! She would ju- He screamed. An ear shattering yowl. Then, he started running. He was halfway down the longest hallway in the catacombs before she snapped back to herself and once again ran after him. "Don't follow me!"  He yelled at her, voice cracking apart near the end. "Chat! Come back! Please!"  Marinette called after him. She knew exactly where this tunnel would lead if he just kept running!

A few more minutes and more yelled warnings later. Ladybug was standing in front of the only exit the dead end had. 'Chat Noir' was panicking and trying his best to dig through the stone and bones. "Chat Noir." She said. Trying to be as calm as possible considering the circumstances. Which where that her partner was either an illusion and she was about to fall into a trap, or that he had come back from the dead and started beating random citizens. She was slowly stepping closer towards him. He looked at her wide eyed. The slits of his iris's where like needles in a sea of emeralds. His ears where pressed flat against his head. He wasn't breathing, but he did take a breath now if only to say "STOP!  Stay away from me! For the love of all that is holy or unholy please stay back!"  Ladybug was both confused and concerned by his words. She needed him to explain what the hell was going on. "Adrien I-"  He clutched his head in his hands. "Stop please! Ahh! Don't say that name. Please don't say his name!" Now she was just concerned. All thoughts of her own confusion where replaced by worry for her partners mind. What had dying done to him. besides the obvious. She was close enough to touch him easily now. He was curled up on himself, and shaking. he kept muttering "No please... don't do it. Not her! Anyone but her..."  She reached out to hug him. Then she was blind. In the blink of an eye her had changed from a cowering mess, to a storm of claws and teeth. His empowered hand reached for her throat, but jerked into her shoulder at the last minute. Tthe sound her suit made when it broke was like hearing church glass shatter, and then the pain. She was on the ground, right hand clutching her now broken and nearly mangled left shoulder. She looked up, magical darkness being replaced with tunnel vision, in time to see his eyes, just pale green embers, flare and burn in their sockets. She felt something inside her click, and she was out.

When she woke up, she was untransformed, she felt like death. She tried to sit up, only to find that she could barely move. "Tikki? Are you there? Please tell me your here."  A flash of pink light from her side. Oh hey, her arm didn't feel like scrambled eggs. Then Tikki flew in front of Marinettes face. A troubled, and slightly angry look on her face. "Marinette! Oh, I'm so glad you woke up! I thought you were going to die! There was so much blood."  Now that is was mentioned Marinette could feel the puddle she was laying in... These cloths would need to be burned... "How did he do that? Why did he do that!? Are you ok? Oh what am I saying of course your not! Can you move?"  The gale force speed of Tikki's questions finally subsided, giving Marinette time to actually answer some of them. "I'm not sure about how well I can move right now. How... How am I alive at the moment. I was bleeding so much."  Tikki gave her 'The Look'. The one that meant 'I saw that you did not answer all of my questions. We WILL talk about that later.' Tikki then settled onto Marinettes shoulder, the one that should be just a mass of hamburger. She felt like she was going to be sick. "I am the Kwami of healing, remember? Lets get you back home. Then We can 'ALL' talk about this."   Tikki said, as she pulled multiple macaroons out of Marinettes bag. "Ill gwide ou frough the cag-"  Marinette gave Tikki a look. Who then sheepishly swallowed and gave an innocent smile. "I'll guide you through the catacombs Then we can zip back home. You should call Rena, and Carapace." Tikki informed Marinette.

Ladybug walked shakily outside the Catacombs.  

She spent twice as long as she needed to get home. She did, after all, have to find someway to tell her remaining best friends that Chat Noir... That Adrien... was now undead, and that he was haunting the streets of Paris.

Notes:

[himbowelsh]

Hellooo! I really love your writing. Really really enjoy it, honestly! ☺️ could you imagine writing something about how speirs and lipton would behave after they had a fight/how they come back to one another to apologize?

“I don’t get it, Lip,” Harry tells him, sliding a beer across the bar towards him. “Here I was thinking you two only fight when the world is ending.”Carwood glances up from his drink. “No, actually. We’ve handled every apocalypse well, so far.”Harry stares at him for a few seconds, smirks, then takes a drink. It seems like an inappropriately long drink – he chugs half the beer and doesn’t seem fazed – but then again, Carwood has learned better than to question Harry’s drinking habits. (If he did that, he’d be questioning eighty percent of Harry’s existence.)“Soooo,” his friend drawls. “What exactly happened?”

Carwood shrugs. He wishes he could say he didn’t know – that would be easier, a much more simplistic way of shifting the blame and separating himself from the situation. He’s never been good at that, however; and he and Ron have never had the sort of fights that make it easy to say “I don’t know” afterwards. He and Ron never fight over little, stupid things. When they fight, it matters; and it hurts that much more.He still remembers that dark anger in Ron’s eyes, the tense set of his shoulders as he stood in the middle of the living room. The way his voice dipped so low that it was practically a growl. The way he wouldn’t tear his gaze away, just keeps glowering into Carwood’s eyes like that alone could make him give in.“You’re giving yourself away,” Ron had said. “You aren’t helping anyone. You’re hurting yourself, and the people who care about you. You can’t do this.”“You don’t have the right to tell me what I can or can’t do,” Carwood answered, steady voice belying the anger that simmered under the surface. “It’s my degree. I can give it up if I choose to.”“This isn’t what your mother wants.”“She’s sick. She needs someone to look after her. I need to have the time to do it. Between work and school —““This is your future.”“The present is more important to me right now,” Carwood retorted. “This is my responsibility.”Ron’s lips curled back in frustration, and Carwood knew he didn’t understand. He could never understand the constraints of obligation which have blind Carwood since he was a child; the responsibility that fell on shoulders too small, and had to be grown into too quickly. Ron, even with his military background, will never understand this.“You don’t have to do this,” Ron said. “This is your choice.”Carwood accepted this with a placid, unfeeling ease. “You’re right,” he replies. “It is.”When he turned away, Ron didn’t try to stop him. He could feel a glare burning into his back, could hear the harsh rhythm of Ron’s unsteady breathing.When Ron spoke again, it was like a knife piercing straight through Carwood’s stomach.“It’s not your responsibility to take care of everyone. Someday you’ll have nothing left to give.”For a very long moment, Carwood  remained still.Then he stalked out of the house, and let the door slam behind him.So, really, there’s no question of whose fault it was. They’re both at fault, but Carwood’s actions triggered the fight in the first place. Carwood’s stubbornness coupled with Ron’s conviction to his own beliefs usually blend well together. On a few occasions, though, the cocktail blows up in their faces.This is one of those times.Instead of saying any of this out loud, he just frowns down at his beer. He takes a long swig — not as long as Harry’s, but enough that he imagines he can feel it in his blood — and sighs as he sets the glass down on the table.“I don’t know,” he answers, and it’s not far off from the truth.

He isn’t drunk by the time he returns home. He considers this an achievement, since Harry’s apparent conviction was that all of Carwood’s problems could be solved if he just pushed more alcohol on him. This backfired in a spectacular way. Harry wound up too drunk to stand up straight (having downed his own drinks, along with the majority of his friend’s) and it was up to Carwood to drive him home. A very unamused Kitty met them at the door, and he delivered Harry unto her mercy.Even so, when he arrives home, it’s past one in the morning. He’s not expecting Ron to be asleep (when he has something on his mind, he tends to brood through the night, not letting himself rest) but he is surprised to find Ron sitting on the couch waiting for him.As soon as the door shuts behind him, Ron is on his feet. His eyes are wide and intense, face otherwise unreadable.“Are you alright?” he asks (this is too distant; normally he’d rush over and make sure of that himself, but he’s keeping space between them now). “I didn’t know if you’d be back. I called a few times.”Carwood shoots him an apologetic, stilted half-smile. “I was driving. I had to bring Harry home. Sorry.”“It’s okay.” Ron rushes the words out too quickly.For a moment, they just stare at each other. Regret burns in Carwood’s chest. He does not want to let this fester between them all night long; or worse, numb up until the words lose their impact, until the need to make amends fades away and they are left with uncomfortable silence. He cannot stand being this close to Ron, yet feeling like there is half a world between them.“I —“ he starts, just as Ron begins, “You —“ Ron quickly nods his head to let him speak.“I... may have acted rashly,” he admits. The words burn his tongue to admit, but they are as true as anything other fact. “I didn’t think things through. I... want to help, but there has to be a way that doesn’t hurt myself in the process. You were right, and I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”“I shouldn't have said things to try to hurt you,” Ron says immediately. “I should have listened to you. I’m sorry too.”

For a moment, they can only stare at each other. The wall of ice between them is slowly thawing, giving way to something more tentative, uncertain. Neither of them know where to go from here. They fight so rarely that this is a challenge for them.

After a moment, Carwood breaks. “What you said did hurt me. I would never give all of myself away. You should know me better than that.”

Ron sinks down to sit on the couch. He slumped forward, running a hand through his hair, before sighing. “I do know you,” he replies. “You’d burn yourself up to keep others warm. That’s the type of person you are. I admire you for it more than I know how to say, but it also scares me more than anything. I could never stand to see you hurt yourself.”

“It’s my choice,” Carwood says again. A flash of something truly pained crosses Ron’s face, so quickly that Carwood knows he was not meant to see it. It twists his stomach anyway. He knows exactly where Ron is coming from; and, as frustrating as it is, he knows he’s not wrong.

If he leaves the conversation like this, Ron will keep his distance. Maybe he’ll try to rectify things sometime tomorrow; maybe he’ll wait for Carwood to breach the gap, giving the distance he feels Carwood needs until then. Either way, Ron will leave it like this, and gnaw on it until the pain of the argument numbs.

That would almost be the easy thing to do. Carwood has never been inclined towards the easy way.

With a sigh of his own, he settles down next to Ron and wraps an arm around his shoulders. He feels Ron freeze up; in response, he just pulls him closer.

“I’ll just have to make the right choices, then,” he says. His lips brush against Ron’s stubbled cheek, and he feels the man in his arms draw in a deep breath. “I would never want to hurt you, Ron.”

Ron exhales in a single rush, and the last remnants of tension hanging above their heads shatter. The stormclouds break; Carwood lets the shower of relief wash over him, and leans into Ron’s side.

After a few seconds, Ron turns his face to press a kiss to the crown of Carwood’s head. Carwood feels himself smile; the knowledge that everything will be okay is more than a relief. No matter how things might fracture, he and Ron are good at picking up the pieces. Gluing it all back into place might take work, but… with Ron by his side, Carwood feels like he can do anything.

[eclissy]

10 Days of Heroshipping 3/10

AU

An RWBY AU! I struggled a long time with what AU I wanted to do (plus school got really busy again) and ended up with this. I already have Ty involved with an RWBY AU with my friends’ OCs but I wanted to try something different with this. It doesn’t follow RWBY’s overarching story. This is a plot I came up with including Ty and DF characters in the RWBY setting.

2331 words

Hero/Drakath (Again)

Plus very brief notes on the AU at the end.

There was nothing Drakath hated more than those self-righteous hunters and huntresses. Their job was to fling themselves at the Grimm or whatever the King wished them to until they succeeded in getting honorably killed in action. A hunter that lived long enough to see their hair grow white was a failure.

And yet, the whole lot of them managed to commit an even worse crime.

They turned their weapons on his father, the rightful King, and a member of theirs usurped the throne.

Drakath would do anything to drag the pretender out from the stolen throne and execute every last Hunter and Huntress in Remnant.

But as he hid behind a wall of intermodal containers, aura depleted down to dregs, Drakath realized a Hunter was going to kill him before he could set foot home.

Or to be more exact, this was a former hunter looking to make Drakath his fall man.

“The academy will find the corpse of the former Prince of Vale, one half in a sad corner and the other in the mouth of a Grimm he tried to set on the city,” Frostscythe walked down the aisles between the huge intermodal containers as his once compatriots warred with the Grimm he and Drakath let loose. The Hunters were winning.

“Then, it would just be a sad end to a sad line. No connection to Sepulchure or myself.”

Frostscythe struck his fist against steel and the echoing noise made Drakath scream into his hands.

“Out, coward!” The former Hunter goaded the Prince. “Find honor in death before they mark your failure in the books.”

Drakath clutched his family’s sword, infuriated but not enough to face Frostscythe.

There was still a way out of this! If he could sneak by Frostscythe, find the exit, get by the hoards of hunters and Grimm, survive a journey thousands of miles back to Sepulchure without being caught, and…beg for forgiveness.

Honestly, that was the worst part.

“Ah, I see,” Frostscythe tapped the handle of his weapon on the warehouse floor. “Honor and courage is alien to you. Perhaps the chance to grovel will appeal more.” The suggestion and its timing stabbed deep into Drakath’s skull, causing the grip on his sword to tighten until his gloves tore.

“If you crawl out and kiss the ground where I walk—“Frostscythe barely stifled a chuckle as Drakath pulled himself up, ready to cleave the former Hunter in two the moment he turned his corner. “—I will consider killing you quickly. How’s that?”

He had repeated the option Drakath loved to give to his victims. It had been a long time since the Prince had been angry enough to leap into fire but he was no victim! He’ll carve out Frostcythe’s spine with his own scythe before that.

“Found you!” Frostscythe exclaimed.

Blind to where he was going, Drakath leaped out and swung his sword with all of his might. The air that he cut parted so easily that the Prince tripped and fell over.

Frostyscythe keened anyways, thrown on his back, and slid towards the back wall of the warehouse. His armor sparked on the cement ground. Managing to swing his scythe into the ground, Frostscythe swung himself back up and met with the blade of a huntress.

Her red scarf billowed in the wind tossed up by the sparking energy from her sword smashing against Frostsycthe’s arm guard. It blasted the hanging lights to shards.

Pulling his scythe from the floor, Frostscythe swung and left a deep nick in the huntress’ white armor.

“No! The Grimm have been defeated already?” Frostscythe panted, proved wrong by the ongoing sounds of battle outside.

“I went ahead, you big ol moldy slushy!” The huntress twirled her blade, having flipped back on top of one of the containers. Vicious cracks had formed in the sword but they glowed from the effects of the embedded dust, sealing closed. “After all—“She ran a gloved finger over the scar on her armor, her bright smile holding no irony. “—I couldn’t miss a reunion.”

“Wretched scum!” Frostscythe’s aura flared, casing the floor in a layer of ice. “I’ll crush the shards of your frozen shattered corpse.”

The Huntress’ grin fell into opened mouthed awe.

“Oh shit!” She said. Not at Frostscythe. The tip of the sword peeking out from his thigh was way more eye catching.

Drakath dug his blade deeper, wrenching it out the side of Frostscythe’s leg with a roar of effort. The former hunter toppled and fell, wailing at the horrendous wound.

“Now, who did you say was going to be groveling on the ground?” Drakath quipped, turning to see his work and gagged. Bile rose in his throat and the Prince pressed his palm against his nose and mouth, stumbling away from the sight.

His weak stomach saved his life. The moment Frostscythe fell on his back, that huntress erased any chance of him getting back up.

One of the huge steel containers, filled with heaping tons of dust, was tossed on top of him. Frostscythes legs stuck out from under the thing, twitching every so often.

“How’d you do that?”

Drakath jumped. Somehow the huntress had snuck up on him, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at his Marquis blade.

“Is it the sword?” The huntress asked, deciding to turn her attention to him directly. She came nose to nose with him, freezing the Prince in place. His mouth moved but no words came out. “Or is it your semblance?” She circled around him, dragging her hands softly over his chest.

From under the giant steel crate, Frostscythe groaned.

“Damn it,” The huntress went over the prone criminal, attempting to plunge her sword into his leg. The blade clanked and clanged, blocked by the remnants of the man’s aura. “Seriously, pretty boy. What did you do?”

“Pu-p-pu-PRETTY BOY?” Drakath fumed, face on fire. “How dare you refer to me so vulgarly? I am Prince Drakath and I should be the rightful King of Vale! My sword and semblance can pierce through any commoner’s aura! It is a sign of my right to rule over you peasants!” Drakath spat.

Meanwhile, the huntress caught sight of the table and blackboard where the circle of criminals had planned their activity. She took the chair by the table and smashed it on Frostscythe’s legs. It broke into pieces but unfortunately, Frostscythe stayed whole.

“Nice, nice,” The huntress nodded, peering over her shoulder at Drakath. “Say, I’ve heard a little about you. Your face is even plastered over the bounty hunter boards. Weird, they all turned out being bad sketches,” She strolled back to Drakath and he brought his sword up between them, wary. “You’re cute in person.”

“Shut your mouth!” Drakath hissed, hands shaking. Slowly, his fear transformed into bewilderment. Very insulted bewilderment. “And what do you mean ‘heard a little about me,’ I am the Prince!”

“And I am Ty,” The huntress bowed in a dramatic sweeping gesture. “A transfer from Mistral.”

“That makes no difference,” Drakath tsked. “Have you been living in a basement?”

“Only for a little while.” Ty kept approaching until she had him pressed against the wall. Easily flicking Drakath’s sword out of the way, she flatted her hand against the spot by his ear.        

Frostscythe was still making rude noises under the steel container.

“Lib? Are you there?” Ty called back to the rest of warehouse. “Sorry, but could you take care of that? I think Pretty Boy’s too tired to finish him off.”

“Who says I’m tired?” Drakath attempted to sound threatening, attempting to shove Ty out of his face. His knees ended up buckling and if Ty didn’t hold him against her, Drakath would have broken his nose in the fall.

“Apologies, my Prince.” Ty referred to him correctly but it still made Drakath feel queasy in the worst way possible. The worst way possible! It made his ears burn…like he had an allergic reaction! Right? Right!  

“You’re a huntress, are you not?” Drakath narrowed his eyes up at the brat. He imagined that she was still attending Beacon with how she looked. “What now? Drag me back to your teachers? I’ll kill you before you can lay a finger on me.” He said, clinging to her.

“Let me think,” Ty tried to straighten Drakath as a young blond child, likely Lib, dragged a jug of gasoline over to Frostscythe. “If you were with the Slushy, I’m guessing you were conspiring with him and whoever else was working in his circle.”

“And what of it?” Drakath was standoffish, forgetting that he shouldn’t be sharing any link the players serving under Sepulchure had.

“Huh.” Ty gazed down at him, considering.

“Ty? I don’t have a match.” Lib yelled, crouching by the panicking pair of legs. His voice was high and breaking in places, characteristic of a kid barely out of the single digits.    

“Oh,” Ty glanced around before looking back to Drakath. “Do you have a lighter?”

“Are you serious?” Having found his balance, Drakath gaped at the huntress. “You can’t set him on fire!”

“Why?” Ty asked, genuinely curious.

“What do you mean, why?” The Prince didn’t mind killing. He was about to kill Frostscythe himself but this was…it’s not…gods above who would…

The Prince groaned, clutching his aching head.

“I just want to keep my lunch down!” Drakath had not and would never want to know what roasting flesh smelled like.

“Well, Pretty Boy--” Ty was rummaging through her pockets for anything that could set some flames off. Maybe a gun. She could have left a gun in her back and didn’t notice. Everyone in remnant had something close to a gun. It wasn’t such a strange idea.

“—I’m not a Huntress just to hunt Grimm. We need to keep order too.” Ty fished a gun out from a side pocket on her bag. What did you know?

“By setting people on fire?” Drakath exclaimed, incredulous.

“By killing everyone in my grade.” Ty finished, turning and firing the gun at an empty wet spot on the floor. “Uh, Lib?”

The kid shrugged, turned his palms up, pointed them in the direction of an open door, and back to Ty and her new toy.

Both the Prince and the Huntress rushed out, following red footprints out to the docks. Floating far out at sea was a block of ice containing the wanted fugitive Frostscythe.

“Oops,” Ty grimaced. Sure, someone could swim out to him. Someone who wasn’t her. Drakath read that from her facial expression, creasing his brows at her. “It’s not like I can’t but only in swimming pools. The ocean can go suck out a brown starfish.”

It was just as well. Ty shouldn’t be the one who takes down Frostscythe anyways.

Bright searchlights shone on Drakath and Ty, reminding them of all the action that had happened around them. All of the Grimm had been defeated, leaving two loose ends to be taken care of and one had just sunk below the waves.

Drakath wanted to crumple and the desire to do so worsened when the Headmaster of Beacon Academy descended to Ty on a Helicarrier the Prince had previously taken.

Warlic stepped out, somewhat perplexed at how Ty was linking arms with Drakath, unbeknownst to the despairing criminal.

“I see that your second initiation has gone as remarkably as the last,” The headmaster nodded to Drakath’s astonishment.

Initiation? A mission like this was used to serve as an initiation for a bunch of brat hunters? Surely, the Kingdom was falling apart at the seams without his family’s lead.

“So he will be your partner?” Warlic asked.

The remark snapped Drakath back to attention.

“What?” The Prince’s eyes nearly popped out at the arms trapping his. “The nerve of you! I would never—“

“Then what are we?” Ty asked, killing the rest of the words in his throat.

The Prince was stuck between the sea and a slew of authorities who may or may not have the option of bringing him in dead.

Gritting his teeth, Drakath gripped Ty back without really needing to. ‘Acting the part’ was a good excuse as opposed to fighting off terror.

“Real mates.” The Prince held back a stutter.

One of the teachers whispered to Warlic, worried.

“We can’t allow this!” They said, making perfect rational sense. Warlic had already been turning away from the pair.

“Considering how we have a cache of information on the Shadowscythe, this could be seen as an advantage,” Warlic explained himself. “As opposed to the amount of students who turned their backs on the Kingdom last year, having one or three isn’t such a travesty in comparison.”

“And you trust Ty?”

“I trust that Ty terrifies him.”

Overhearing bits of their conversation, Drakath shook Ty’s hands off.

“I will make it my mission to destroy your false King and the traitors who foolishly thought they could get rid of me.” Drakath swore, finding himself prisoner to a very strange situation.

Clasping her hands behind her back, Ty walked ahead of him.

“I can’t say I’m with you on the King thing. In fact, I love Alteon,” Ty leaned on her heel, gazing back at Drakath with interest. “But you wouldn’t be able to stop me from tearing my old classmates to shreds even if you cried,” The statement sent a chill up Drakath’s spine. “But since we’re partners, how about some tea? Maybe coffee at late nine? I have to treat my cute new partner after all.”

Everything about Ty, from the top of her head to her the toes of her red stained shoes, made Drakath’s stomach quiver. And yet, the Prince’s throat was parched, his body ached, and he needed time to think.

“Coffee.” He stated, strict and without any hint of wanting to make formalities with this freak.

“Absolutely.” Ty offered her arm and Drakath caught himself only after he took it again.    

It was something I really wanted to try. The Hero ended up in a class of aspiring hunters and huntresses who decided that villain-ing matched them better. Since her reputation was bad already, Ty goes off to ‘capture’ them in hopes that she won’t get thrown in prison for no reason. And she grabs Drakath anyway.

[letterstochristopher]

Letters to Chris. May 1st. Day 22.

Hey Buddy,

It’s been a tough day, and an even tougher night. Today was my first day back to my “normal life.” It feels so weird. So wrong. I arrived back in Colorado yesterday morning. I wasn’t close to ready to come home. I missed Clay and the pups, but I feel like nothing has gone right since we moved here a year ago. I wanted to stay away. Stay home with our family. It was hard walking back into our apartment. I just don’t have many memories here. We JUST moved in. It doesn’t feel like home…not at all. So the only memory that sticks out is that horrible, long night. So obviously, being back has been rough. Tonight, I felt like I did that first week…where the pain was so unbearable I couldn’t breathe. All I wanted to do was scream. Or die. Anything but feel the way I was feeling. And this morning, it was almost too much to go to work, to talk to people like nothing happened, to be happy because at any workplace you need to leave your shit at the door. How can I act normal when my heart is shattered into a million pieces? One minute I’ll be okay, and the next I feel like I’m drowning under this massive wave that is crashing over me and I keep trying to swim to the surface but a huge part of me wants to give up and drown. I feel so lost. All I want to do is go back home to where we grew up and be with Mom, Dad, Nikea and Bethany. Where our memories are. Where your stuff is. Where your old room is. Where your ashes are. I feel so far away right now and it’s almost unbearable. Sorry, Buddy. I’m just so tired. Talking to people all day has been exhausting when all I wanted to do was hide. But everyone tells me that I need to be around others. That working is good. That getting back into my routine is good. I can’t hide away all the time. 

I’m not ready. I just want to cuddle with your things and sleep.

Dad drove me to Kansas City Saturday to stay with Court and Cory since my flight left so early Sunday morning. I could have taken the train, but I wanted to spend more time with him. Since he works and goes to bed at a decent hour (unlike Mom and me), I didn’t get to see him as much as I would have liked. So I made him be stuck with me in a car for 2.5 hours :) It was so fun. It’s rarely, if ever, just Dad and me. As I’ve told you, I’m not ever going to take our family for granted again. It was funny…I’d been waiting for an awesome thunderstorm the entire time I was home, and of course the day I leave one hits. You should have seen the flooding. It was crazy. Fields looked like lakes. But luckily it never got too bad, or else I would have felt like the world’s worst daughter for asking him to drive me through it. I know he didn’t mind though. Dad’s love language is acts of service. (By the way, one of your close friends gave us a card telling us all the things you talked about in regards to us. I know it meant so much to Dad that you told her how smart he was, and how you wanted to be half the man he is. I wish you could have known that you were a good man, too. You were, Chris. I was proud to call you my brother. And Mom…she started crying when she read how you said she had been such a huge influence in your life. And it was so sweet that you bragged about her garden. That meant so much to her). 

Saying bye to Mom, Dad and Nikea went as well as it could have. Better than expected. I figured I’d be sobbing, or at least Mom would be. I mean, she’d cry when I’d leave when I lived in Kansas City. But everyone did okay. Nikea came home to hang out after work, even though it was just for a half hour. She sat with me while I packed. I think having actual dates when I’m coming back helps tremendously (June and August). And Mom let me take everything I wanted of yours (even though I forgot your PJ pants I’ve been wearing which really upset me). She had felt so protective of your things, like they were being picked over. She knew that wasn’t the case, but you know how she is. She just needed time. Always the protective mother. I understand. That’s how I feel about your ashes. We had discussed sharing them, but I couldn’t deal with the thought of dividing you up. I say “you.” I know it’s not you. It’s funny how we cling to the physical remnants when that’s not who you actually were. Your soul lives on. But anyway…I’m so grateful to Mom. I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have anything of yours here. It was hard enough being away from your belongings for a few hours at work. I had so many of your things I had to borrow Mom’s massive suitcase. And when I say massive, I mean MASSIVE. I could fit in there easily. Twice. I wasn’t able to bring everything I wanted due to weight restrictions, but I’ll be going home for your Celebration of Life at the end of June, and will bring them back with me (our birth mom and aunts are coming, as is the rest of the family and any of your friends, too. We haven’t made an official announcement yet, but will soon. It’s just so hard to get things going right now). Your Harry Potter books, your cowboy hat, your dress blues…Maybe some of your antlers. You had so many! Did you shoot all those deer? I know you did one, at least. Perhaps I can Pinterest something to do with your antlers. I know you’d be so annoyed with me if I tried to turn your antlers into a craft project, but sorry, dude, that’s what you get. And I’m trying to figure out what to do with your uniform. Would it be weird if I framed it? I’d love to have it hanging somewhere I can always see it. Maybe in our living room. I also took your ACU backpack and your cap. Oh and your deodorant. May be weird, but since I’ve already told you about how I cuddle with your sweaty shirts, I figure you can’t judge me any more than you already have. As for the rest of your clothes, they are all lying on my side of the bed. I want them close. Maybe months down the line I’ll fold them neatly and store them somewhere that’s easily accessible. And not all of them-some I’m sure I’ll wear to bed every night. It helps me to sleep. What’s neat is I’ve been finding so many photos of you wearing the shirts that I have. I had asked you to show me what you wanted me to take, and all these shirts I picked ended up in photographs. It makes me ache, but it also makes me feel so close to you. Especially the shirts that smell like you. I dread the day when your smell fades. I don’t know what I’ll do then. 

Sometimes, I just don’t think. Like yesterday, I asked Dad if they had offered to give him the clothes you were wearing. Mom had been wondering if you were wearing the “Life is Good” shirt (you know, the ice fishing one she gave you) that night because it wasn’t in your things. Dad said they offered them to him, but recommended incineration because they were soiled. It’s like the couch…I knew you bled. I knew that. Considering everything, how could you not? I’ve seen the blood. So why did it hit me so hard when he said they incinerated your clothing because they were soiled? Shouldn’t that be old news by now? Why does it hit me like a sledgehammer to my chest whenever I hear something like that? Damn you for hurting yourself like that, Chris. Your life may not have been a big deal to you, but you were my everything. Our everything. And now life expects me to pick up the pieces and keep going. Because that is what you’re supposed to do. Keep living. Keep working. Keep growing. 

How?

You did reach out to me Saturday, though. I walked into Courtney’s apartment and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire was playing on her TV. Since I was just talking to you about that in my last letter, I know that was you saying hi again. Thank you so much. I can’t hold you, talk to you, laugh with you or wrestle you anymore, but I can see you in so many ways. Feel you in so many ways. Moments like that keep me going. Keep them coming, Chris. I’m going to need constant reminders that you’re still here. I’m needy. Get over it.

You would have laughed at me on the plane yesterday. It wasn’t funny at the time, but it does make me laugh now. We hit the worst turbulence I’ve ever experienced. Nervous chatter filled the cabin. The entire midwest was covered in storms, so as we left Kansas City we hit some major bumps. We would drop so far my stomach would jump into my throat. Turbulence normally doesn’t bother me. You know I fly all the time. But I was just so frazzled after the last three weeks, I started crying. It seems like anything bad can happen now. Like if you can die, then anything can go wrong (good outlook to have, right?). The woman next to me asked if I was okay. To which I responded, “My brother just died, now I’m going to die and it’s going to kill my mother.” I’m sure that was the last response she expected. I felt so stupid. Talk about word vomit. But all I could think about was Mom dealing with another child being killed. Luckily, the woman didn’t seem to mind, bless her. She patted my knee and promised we weren’t going to die, and started asking about you. I was honest about how you died. I refuse to hide it. Hiding it means I’m ashamed of you or your decision. No way. Never. Well it turned out her cousin committed suicide two years ago. He was 51. I’m not sure how, but somehow I knew I would sit next to someone who lost a loved one to suicide, too. I hadn’t planned on talking about it, but it’s funny how turbulence + a shitty three weeks can make us talk to complete strangers about the most personal stuff. It makes me cringe to think about it. But I’m grateful she was there to share her experience. We also talked about depression. She had suffered some major depression a few years back, and said she understood how someone could get to that point. I know so many people would have shied away from talking to me. It’s pretty cool how God puts people in our path that help us along the way. 

Luckily, the turbulence calmed down, as did I. At least until I walked into our apartment. But, what can you do? I just feel bad for Clay. He was so excited to have me home, and I became a wreck the second I walked through the door. Of course he misses you, too. He just wants to fix this. You know how guys are. They are fixers. But this can’t be fixed. It can’t be solved. You’re gone, and I’m grieving. It’s just the way it is going to be. 

I’m super fun to be around right now.

By the way, I’m listening to your favorite song. "Your Guardian Angel” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Yesterday, while on your Facebook I came across a status I had somehow missed:

February 25th at 6:42 am.

Commercial on addiction on Pandora then RJA My Guardian Angel plays. Someone is truly looking over me today!! Feeling great today.

So I put on this song. This status brought me so much comfort. You were feeling so positive and encouraged. I wish I would have commented on it. I had stopped getting on Facebook very often (social media overwhelms me), so rarely commented on anyone’s statuses. But I’m so so grateful I saw this. Because now I know you believed you were being looked out for. And now, I have a song I know you loved that I can listen to (and it’s not country, which I know you loved but man…I can’t do it. Unless it’s Brad Paisley or 90′s country). 

You know what I find interesting? Throughout this entire ordeal, I haven’t been angry with God. I’ve been angry with Him in the past for things that have gone wrong. I blamed him when our Uncle Tim died, and when my friend Shanna passed. But I haven’t blamed him for your death. Because I know He brought you eternal peace. He didn’t cause this to happen. Your heartache and addictions did. But He did welcome you home. And while I would give anything to have you here with us, I know that is selfish. How could I ever wish you away from the incredible place you are now? Free from your burdens, your sadness. We may not be fine right now, but you are. More than fine. You are happier than we could ever hope to be. And you know, the therapist Mom and I saw said she was surprised you lived as long as you did. Just because you’d been dealing with those issues for so long. So I need to say thank you, Chris. For holding on as long as you did. While 25 years wasn’t nearly long enough (not even close), I’m so grateful that I got to have you in my life for those 25 years. Twenty five years of memories: of birthdays, Christmases, family dinners, movie nights, laughter, vacations, late night chats…I’ll take it. Having you as a brother was well worth the pain.

You’ll always be my brother. 

By the way, I finally checked my Facebook messages yesterday. I had so many from your friends, reaching out to tell me how much they loved you. How they cannot wrap their mind around what happened, how they miss you, and how they are here for our family in any way, shape or form we need. We are beyond grateful for their words. Knowing we aren’t alone in our grief makes it a little easier of a burden to bear. Some things people have said about you:

“He had the heart of a giant and was built to serve others. I was proud to call him my brother and stand beside him in serving our community.”

“He definitely came into my life for a reason…even if it was for such a short time. I can sense it. He changed me in a good way.”

“Besides his love for his job and his hard work ethic, Chris was one of the kindest souls I had ever met.”

“I’m glad I had the time with him I had. He was a great friend I wish he could see all the people that cared about him who he didn’t know were there. He will forever be missed and the world is missing out on such a great person.”

“You were a great person. A funny smartass who always had a witty comeback. I miss you. I’m mad at you.”

“You were a beautiful soul.”

“I only knew Chris for a short while when he joined the Holts Summit Fire Department as a cadet a while back and his wonderful attitude and great personality made a forever lasting impression.”

“You were such a kind hearted guy. You would have done anything for anyone anytime they needed you. You loved your son immensely and you could see in his eyes he obviously adored you.”

“I thought highly of Chris, from the moment he walked into my office wanting to join the National Guard I could tell he was a bright, charismatic young man who had a promising future. When he told me he was moving, I knew I would miss seeing him around and talking with him about his progression in his military career and life in general. I know for anyone that had the opportunity meet him he had a positive impact on them as a person. He will be greatly missed and my thoughts go out to his friends and loved ones.”

And there are SO many more. People loved you, Buddy. And they will continue to love you. Couldn’t you see it?? I’m going to post on your wall and ask everyone to share a memory. Then I want to make a book of your photos and add all those memories they share there. It’s through all of us that you will keep living. We won’t ever let your memory fade. 

Here comes another wave. 

God, I love you. I miss you. I need it to stop hurting, but it just won’t. I love you. I love you.