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shreddedparchment · 4 years

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Pseudo Princess Epilogue

08/21/2020

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 6,172

Warnings: fluff, talks of sterilization/infertility

A/N: I did promise a surprise. There were some interactions that I wanted to touch on that I couldn’t fit into the last chapter and this just felt right to write. I hope y’all enjoy. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“What have you decided?” You wonder, adjusting Joseph in your arms as they begin to tire.

“We’re going to adopt.” Nat’s smile is genuine and yet, you find there’s a sadness in her eyes that breaks your heart.

She looks at Joseph and stares at him for a moment before reaching across the small space between your chairs to caress his little cheek.

“May I be honest with you?” You hesitate but know that you need to say this in order for that sadness to leave her eyes.

Of course, her sadness is her own and you might only help relieve it. You cannot chase it away for good.

“Of course.” She takes her hand back to place over yours.

“I am so glad that you have decided not to see the witch.” You sigh. “After having lost all of you for over a year, the thought of losing more time knowing that I would have had it…”

“I know.” Nat interrupts softly, tearing her eyes down to her hand in yours. “James is the same. He told me to choose what would make me happy and for a moment I considered very much going to see her, but the forced look of detachment on James’s face was heartbreaking. I don’t want him to feel as if his opinion does not matter to me.

“If we cannot both be of one mind in this choice then it is a choice that I cannot make. We were both decided on adoption before I remembered the witch’s offer so, adoption is the only choice my heart can bear to make.” Nat’s feelings are genuine, and you can see the decision has lifted weight from her shoulders.

“You have known that you could not have children for years. Is this really what you wanted. Having them naturally?” You probe, already knowing her answer. “You know that Bucky does not and has not cared if you could give him natural born children.”

“Why do you know me so well?” She huffs a small laugh. “I wanted to give him the life he deserved.”

“The life he deserves is the one he chooses, love. And he chooses to be with you, just as you are. For him you are not lacking in anything.” You point out, remembering the look of utter worship he gives her every time they’re together.

“I know.” Nat nods, smiling wide albeit a little resigned. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly accepted that and that’s why I became so fixated on giving him a child born of us both.”

You scoot closer to the edge of your seat, adjusting the sleeping Joseph in your arms. Now that you’re closer, you can wrap one arm around her back a little, bringing your face down and closer to her own.

“We all love you, Nat. Just as you are. Any child you raise would be lucky to have you as a mother. I know I’ve said it before, but I cannot impress upon you the sincerity of what I say. Trust me. You are perfect to us. If not the world, then to Bucky and myself. And isn’t that enough?”

Her eyes begin to water, and you have the sudden urge to hug her. Before you can, the door to your sitting room opens. Quickly you wipe away the two tears that roll onto Nat’s cheeks as Peter freezes, his eyes wide with surprise. He’s still got his arms extended, feet still in mid-step.

“Oh,” He gasps. “I’m…I didn’t know you were in here your Majesty. I’m so sorry.”

“Peter!” You exclaim, happy to see him.

His face changes, a wide smile replacing the look of shock on his face.

“Hi.” He replies simply, moving towards you as you rise to your feet and with Joseph carefully balanced in your arms, you wrap Peter up in the other.

“It’s so good to see you. When Steve told me you’d left for Father’s castle I was saddened to be denied our reunion.” You chuckle, trying to keep Joseph as still as possible despite knowing that he will not wake even should you need to grab a sword and fight some random attacker.

“I’m sorry, I had to deliver Steve’s invitations for the feast he has planned for when the estate is completed. Only a few weeks now.” Peter says proudly as you pull back to get a look at his face. He seems to be getting taller still. Just over a year and you’re shocked by his growth.

He’s much bigger in muscle mass too.

“Invitations, sure.” Natasha teases, fixing him with a knowing look.

Peter seems to deflate by her implications which raises many questions in your own head.

To allay your confusion, he leads you back to your seat and helps you to sit.

“Morgana and I have actually parted ways.” He says simply, his voice serious but not melancholy.

“Oh.” Nat exclaims, exchanging with you a quick look of concern. “I hope that it was nothing that cannot be mended?”

Peter takes a step back and reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“She is much happier with our engagement at an end. If I am honest, we have been growing apart the last several months. She has been busy undertaking King Stark’s training and I have been busy in the villages with minor disturbances from remnants of Hydra and their various factions.

“Our friendship is just as strong as it ever was, but I don’t believe romance will be a part of our future.” Peter sighs upset despite his words of assurance.

“Last I remember your romance was only just blooming.” You lament, hating to have lost out on the beauty of their love growing.

Now it’s gone?

“Yes.” Peter smiles. “I had high hopes for us but I’m certain this is the right choice for us both.”

“Is this a choice you both made?” Natasha wonders, worried for the young guard.

“We spoke about it at length and we’re sure that it’s for the best.” Peter nods. “Do not worry. We are both perfectly fine.”

Containing your frown is out of the question but he does look as if their choice is one of certainty and you can’t exactly contradict them if they have found what is right for both of them. Even if it’s a shame that you won’t have Peter as a brother-in-law.

With no choice but to move on, you let Natasha take Joseph from your arms as she moves him into the crib nearby.

You have one in here and one in your bedroom.

“So?” You begin, sitting back with a small grimace at the pain in your back. “What brings you to my sitting room? I know you did not come to see me since you didn’t know I was in here.”

As Natasha tucks Joseph in, she waits with observant eyes as if she’s still trying to decide if Peter has told you both the truth about him and Morgana.

“I was sent in to fetch your sewing basket. His Majesty said that he wanted to show it to me so that I’d know what to buy.” Peter explains, his brow furrowed as he observes the grimace on your face and the strange way you’re sitting.

The flowing gown you wear—slate blue around the shoulders down to the constricting bodice where it shifts and mixes with the peony pink fabric beneath the sheer top layer that then flows down to end in that same soft pink—puddles around you, soft to the touch.

It’s finer than anything you’ve worn in a while and the corset you’re wearing now forces your back straight once more.

You’d forgotten how uncomfortable the clothing you'd worn as Queen of Broklin could be. It was a hybrid of both pleasure and pain as the soft fabrics felt cool and heaven in touch but the stiff undergarments to help you fit into such fine dresses were forcing your body to readjust again.

The attempt to slouch and lean back against your chair in search of comfort does not go unnoticed by your once personal guard. Now rehired as you have returned.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” He worries, taking a step closer. His fists open and close as if he’s warring with wanting to reach out and help.

Everyone has been so attentive, so careful with you these past few days after your reappearance. It isn’t even so much that the clothing is too uncomfortable. The corset is tight indeed, but you were so malnourished when Steve found you again that your body had rejected all the rich foods that he’d sent for.

It wasn’t until Natasha thought to bring you simple unseasoned fish, vegetables, and plain water instead of wine that you managed to eat and retain the nutrition. Slowly they added saltier meats and seasoned vegetables and after five days of no missed meals, you were feeling stronger and more like yourself.

The only thing that weighs heavily on your mind still is your son. So much smaller than your daughter was at his age, or so Steve says.

Your husband cried into your chest for that first torturous night. Blissful yet painful. You were all so happy to be back together, finally you were all complete. The piece of yourself that you’d felt was missing had returned in you both, and still it was not enough.

It was excruciating to see your baby girl so grown. Walking, however clumsily, and talking. Her eyes when she sees you are full of confusion. There is no recognition there. Your heart breaks for the bond that you’ve lost.

For Steve, it was the sight of you and Joseph so feeble. So hungry for care and safety. The jumpiness that you’d developed once more having to watch your every step with Phin and the other village men who’d seen an easy target in an orphaned single mother.

He was devastated to know that you’d suffered the birth of your son alone. He hates to know that you fed on rats in your most desperate hours to keep your little one fed. It tears you apart to see him so agonized over it only to see that even through your efforts your son needed a doctor’s care.

Your body is not strong and because of this, everyone has been vigilant with the slightest change in your mood. Steve and Nat especially. Peter has been informed, clearly.

You meet his eyes and offer a smile.

“No. Not exactly. It’s been over a year. I must adjust again, that’s all.” You explain, refusing to give in to their worries about your health.

You feel much stronger already after less than a week. Your son is also more comfortable and seems to fuss a little more now that he has the energy to do so.

Natasha steps towards you, running her hand along the center of your spine.

“Perhaps I laced you too tightly? Once Peter leaves, I can adjust it and give you some relief.” She offers.

“I’m alright.” You smile, resisting the need to grimace again.

Turning back to Peter, you try to distract them.

“Why have you been tasked with the purchase of a sewing box?” This does the trick and both of them forget your discomfort.

“Oh, well his Majesty wishes to tell you himself. I will tell him you’re here and return as soon as I have what I need.” Peter takes a step back, the eagerness to complete his task pulling him away.

“Very well. Hurry back.” You smile at him fondly, a fond lilt to your words. “I have missed you.”

Peter nods, the corners of his lips turned up as he turns and shuts the doors behind him.

“If you aren’t feeling well, Steve will want to know.” Nat frowns, her hand still resting on your back.

“I’m perfectly alright.” You chuckle, reaching back to take her hand and remove it from your spine. “I would like to take a walk.”

You rise and despite yourself, groan as your body stretches. After so much time sleeping in a lumpy bed of hay, a soft plush mattress feels too firm and soft at the same time.

“Y/N…” Nat chastises.

“My body is sore. I’m not used to these soft beds anymore. They feel good when I first lay in them but after a few hours of sleeping my body becomes stiff. It will pass in time, Nat. I promise. I’m alright. Truly.” You walk away from her as you speak, refusing to be stopped and move towards your baby boy to tuck the blanket in around him.

His little crib is the same one that Maggie had slept in when she’d been an infant and your heart fills with warmth that Steve was right and that you would indeed have use for it once again.

Joseph shifts, his little fists flexing open and shutting once again as he coos then sleeps on.

“Will you stay with him?” You whisper, though you don’t need to. Joseph has slept through the worst storms.

“As you wish.” Nat sighs, moving to sit in the chair she’d placed beside him in case you’d wanted to sit down with him.

“If he gets hungry-” You fret.

“I’ll bring him to you.” She promises. “Go, enjoy your walk.”

You leave her in good spirits, feeling free in the safety of the estate walls after so much time spent looking over your shoulder.

Naturally, you allow your heart to lead you and you find yourself at the door to Maggie’s nursery. You can hear Samuel with her, his laugh mixed with her occasional little scream of excitement.

Slowly you open the door, pressing your hand against the wood to keep it as quiet as possible.

You spot them sitting on the floor amongst a pile of pillows that have been strewn across a large thick blanket. The windows on the far side of the room have been thrown open to allow a gentle breeze to cool the room.

Sam holds a luxurious doll made of soft fabric against his leg, his body relaxed as he leans against the wall beside a small shelf full of other toys made of wood and clay. There are other dolls too.

In front of him sits your toddler, her hands wrapped around a large green leg.

With a gasp you push the door open and stop to find Hulk sitting on the other side of the room taking up almost all of it. His arms are casually resting against his knees as your little girl giggles and reaches around to pinch Hulk’s massive calf.

He growls and she laughs again. Then Hulk laughs, and claps his hands twice shaking the entire room.

“Ha-ha!” He says with amusement in his eyes. “Princess laugh funny.”

You look to Sam, uncertainty gripping your chest and he rises then hurries to meet you by the door.

“Your Majesty.” He bows his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t be alarmed, they do this often. He won’t hurt her.”

“Queen Flower!” Hulk shouts, raising his hand to wave then points down at your daughter. “Look! Little Princess laugh funny.”

He lifts his massive leg, taking her with it as she sits on his foot and hugs him tighter. As he drops it, she giggles once.

“Do thing, Princess! Make Hulk angry again.” He orders her and like an obedient puppy, she reaches around and pinches his leg again.

Hulk growls. She laughs. He laughs and claps.

The sight, while frightening at first, fills you with joy.

Your little girl has been happy! You’re so grateful to all of them.

“She likes Bruce too, but she and Hulk have this connection that’s hard to argue with. We can’t keep them apart for long.” Sam explains.

“I’m glad.” You nod.

“He takes care of her. When she cries, he gets upset and won’t stop slamming his fists until she stops. That’s how this began.” Sam gestures at them as they continue to play.

“She was crying?” You fret, watching your little girl for the telltale signs that she had been shedding tears.

“She misses Steve. She cries at least once every time he has to meet with anyone for an extended period of time with affairs of the Kingdom. They’ve been attached at the hip since you disappeared.

“I think he clung to her so tightly because he sensed you in her. He was happy to be with her but he knew that something was missing. We all did, only most of us assumed it was Margaret.

“Steve even insisted once that it wasn’t her and that there was someone else that should be at his side. But he went to sleep and we ignored him. We assumed he was merely distraught. When he woke the next morning, he seemed to have forgotten his theory and we thought we were wise to move on.” Sam smiles, shrugging his shoulders as he fixes you with his sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

You and Steve haven’t talked much about your time apart that does not involve the children. Hearing that he'd felt as lost as you had during your separation eases the small bit in your heart that still wonders if Steve is truly in love with you.

“It’s of no importance.” You assure him. “We are together again now. That’s all that matters.”

“Maggie, look who’s here.” Sam calls to her, waiting for her to exclaim in delight at the sight of you.

While you know better.

As you expect she turns to look at you, her little eyes searching your face for recognition and it comes slowly. It isn’t the recognition of a mother yet but she still releases Hulk's leg and with unsteady feet rises and wanders over towards you.

“Hello my sweet flower.” Your heart expands at least fifty sizes—no, a hundred!—as you squat down to be closer to her.

She stumbles as she reaches you but falls into your arms with a giggle that you echo as you wrap your arms around her and lift her to your lap.

She's still so small. A baby. Your baby.

“I was just about to go take a walk in the garden. I want to see all the pretty flowers that your papa planted. Would you like to come with me, little flower?” You wait as she watches your mouth when you’ve finished speaking.

Her own moves silently as she reaches up to fidget with her ear as she thinks about it.

You’ve spent as much time as you can with her these past five days and because you’re in her places of home—her Papa's bed, his presence every moment that he can spare, at his dining table right beside him, in the bath while he sits with her in his lap and the two of you talk.

You’ve bathed her with you and tucked her in. Kissed her cheeks and chastised her when her tantrums grew insolent.

You have made yourself a thorn in her side but a place to seek comfort too.

So, when she turns back to you and places her little hands on your cheeks before wrapping them around your neck, you are ecstatic.

Sam helps you to your feet as Hulk rises and grumbles.

“Queen Flower steal funny baby. Hulk hate Queen Flower!” He says passionately before giving a great hurumph and springing through the large open window.

You watch him go with your mouth slightly open. Maggie turns to wave as Hulk disappears and Sam shakes his head.

“Ba-ba-ba!” Maggie calls out after him, her little hand limp as she swings her arm up and down.

“He doesn’t really hate you. He tells all of us that when we take her.” Sam relays and you’re surprised to feel a wave of relief that Hulk is also just throwing a tantrum.

“I’ve left Nat with Joseph while he sleeps. Will you tell her to bring him down when he wakes? I’d love to have them together. She’s still unsure of him I think.” You’ve noticed your little girl is jealous when Steve holds your son and you want them to love each other despite their time apart.

“Of course. Enjoy your walk, your Majesty. I’ll send a guard down for you as well. Steve would not like you two out in the gardens by yourselves.”

“Thank you, Sam. Are you ready my princess?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been nearly four hours of warm morning sun spent with your daughter in the fragrant peony garden that Steve had built in the estate gardens.

Waves of pink sway in the sultry summer breeze and Maggie’s little legs falter as she inches towards you, her small fist rubbing sleepily at her eye.

She’d spent the morning running after you, giggling loudly before screaming with excitement. She’d fallen many times, then risen and continued the chase. You’d let her catch you and fall to the ground to embrace her before she squirmed from your arms to indicate your turn to chase.

Her adorable antics were topped when she managed to crawl underneath your skirts, painting the bottom her dress—which once again, matches your own just as they had before you’d lost time—green as she rolled around on the soft pea-green blades of grass.

When she tired you two sat in the shade of a large oak giving you a much-needed respite from the blazing sun. She was up after only ten minutes, however. Energetic baby that she is.

All the while, at the edges of the tall blue hydrangea and wine butterfly bush, just out of sight is your guard. Five men circling the outside of the long garden. Out of sight so that they do not disturb you and Maggie though often you catch them peeking over the hedge to catch glimpses of the little miss.

She’s just as popular as she was before you lost her.

Halfway through your walk, Natasha joins you with Joseph. A blanket spread out beneath the oak where she’d sat with him while you played with Maggie.

Stopping, you admire her as she walks towards you. She’s the spitting image of her father and when you’d once thought her lips resembled your own, you can now see that she’s turning into Steve more and more every day.

“Muh-muh-muh…” She mumbles, and your heart skips a beat. “Muh-muh…”

As she reaches you, she lifts her arms towards you, her little rosebud lips fixed into a cranky pout.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” You gush, ducking down to pick her up before you cradle her against your chest. She’s heavy compared to Joseph but you don’t care. You will suffer through aching arms to hold her close.

She immediately lays her head on your shoulder and wraps her arms around her neck again, her eyes closing as you caress the back of her head tenderly.

“Were you attempting to call me ‘Mama’?” You whisper, but she’s already asleep.

With her dozing, you move back towards the oak where Joseph lays on his back playing with his feet.

“Are you hungry?” Natasha wonders, already pushing up onto her knees and grabbing her skirts in preparation.

“A little.” You confess, but I can wait until Maggie wakes before we head back inside.”

“Would you like Steve to kill me for not feeding you?” Nat walks to meet you and then reaches to caress Maggie’s head as she stops beside you. “I’ll see what I can find for us. Will you be alright with them both?”

She seems to really be worried about whether you can handle your children alone and perhaps if you were at your strongest you’d be offended, but you take her words for what they are—love for you.

“Of course I can.” You assure her. “Maggie’s asleep.”

She tilts her head quickly, looking skeptical before she turns and leaves for the house.

As you approach your little boy who has taken to a constant cooing, you wonder how you’ll manage to put Maggie down beside him when you hear a call from the garden gate.

“Y/N!” He calls, deep but vibrant.

His voice is like a siren’s song and you stop and turn without hesitation.

Steve. Your heart is suddenly pounding and you’re eager to see his beautiful face.

As you turn to look, he’s already close, turning his sprint into a jog. His lips are stretched into a happy smile. His eyes are bright, blue as storm clouds, but happy to see you. No, ecstatic. No, he’s full of life at the sight of you, looking as if he’s just quenched a terrible thirst.

“I’ve been all over the estate looking for you.” He gives one long inhale and a quick exhale of breath as if he’s only just catching it.

Had he literally run around looking for you?

“I’m here.” You return his smile. “With our little ones.”

Steve’s cheeks blush a vibrant pink before he takes a half-step towards you and leans in, wrapping his right arm around your waist as he rushes to meet your lips with chaste but hungry kiss.

There’s a need behind his lips that doesn’t equate to desire, and you wonder what it is that he’s searching for.

For you, the press of his mouth against your own sends rapid flutters from your toes to the top of your head making all of your thoughts fuzzy.

As he pulls away, he places both hands on either side of your face. His thumbs are a gentle caress against your skin. His eyes devour your confuddled expression, a look of amusement turning his lips up once more.

“I missed that expression.” He tells you and embarrassment makes you huff a small laugh.

“You’re impossible.”

Steve chuckles.

With your greeting out of the way, his eyes find the baby in your arms then the one on the blanket.

Joseph has also spotted him and has taken to kicking in excitement, his little eyes wide and his mouth a small o as he spews out more goos and coos.

“Did my princess fall asleep?” Steve reaches for her, expertly taking her from you she doesn’t even stir.

“We’ve been out here all morning.” You tell him and with your arms free, you quickly move to Joseph’s side, grabbing him and sitting him upon your lap so that he might look at his papa with more ease.

It only makes him kick faster and you chuckle as he squirms.

“I think your prince would also like your embrace.” You adjust him again, a sigh of relief escaping you after your laugh.

It doesn’t escape Steve’s notice. As he sits himself down on the blanket with you, he places Maggie beside him, stroking her chest to make certain she remains asleep.

“You’re tired.” He frowns but takes Joseph when you lean over and offer him.

He places him between his legs facing him, but when he whines and leans towards him with his little arms reaching, Steve picks him back up and gives him his all his attention while he waits for you to respond.

“We have been enjoying the length of the garden.” You explain, scooting closer to Maggie and moving the hair away from her little face. “Which reminds me, why was it that you made a peony garden even when you did not remember me?”

Steve turns to you, allowing Joseph to push against his lap with his little legs, then looks up towards the branches while he thinks.

As his mind wanders, you admire the sight of him. He looks regal in his short-sleeved cream-colored tunic, the neckline high with tan embroidery along the edge of the seam at the front. It leaves his muscular arms exposed, sinew shifting beneath the smooth golden peach of his skin as your son kicks and Steve keeps him rooted to his spot.

His hair is short once more, trimmed for the heat of the season but his beard is as thick as ever.

Brown trousers and dark brown boots complete his casually regal look and he has never looked so good.

“I don’t think I could properly explain it. The garden back home was full of them around Margaret’s—that is, your pavilion. I knew it as Margaret’s with my memory of you gone.” He fixes his words though you feel only the faintest of shifts in your gut of the old jealousy and resentment you’d felt at the mention of Margaret. “I had no memory of changing her flower for them, but I knew that the reason for it was vital. Then as time went on, I craved the scent of them. Maggie and I would spend hours in your garden. I think even she felt your absence. She was more peaceful whenever we were there where the flowers reminds us both of your pleasing scent.”

You laugh, unable to help yourself.

“What?” Steve turns to you, adjusting Joseph in his arms as the little one tires out and yawns. With his little head resting against Steve’s chest, he begins to drift to sleep. “Why are you always laughing at the things I say?”

You take a few more moments to let the laugh flow, then shake your head.

“I’m not. I’m just…I only began to use scented oils and soaps when I accepted father’s task to marry you. If you want a true example of what I smell like, think back to the moment you met me on the road just days ago.” You explain.

Steve thinks back, the small crease between his eyes deep as he tries to remember.

“You smelled like hay. A little bit like sweat and earth, but also like Joseph. But there was also the scent of peonies in your hair, despite what you say. Perhaps it has become engrained into your very being after soaking in so many baths with it.” Steve smiles, his eyes glazed over as if he’s thinking about it.

The shift of his lips is a little coy, and the pink tint returns with vibrancy to his cheeks.

“Why are you blushing?” You narrow your eyes at him, certain you know exactly what it is he’s thinking.

“I’m not blushing.” He shakes his head, a look of denial plastered across his chiseled features.

“You are. How can you think of me in the bath with our children sleeping right beside us?” You demand, your face fixed into mock shock.

Steve blinks, at a loss at your accusation because it’s probably true.

“What? I am not-I don’t-I haven’t-You don’t-” He sputters, flustered by your flirting.

You chuckle and refocus on your daughter, admiring the way she breathes as she sleeps while thinking with amusement about the amount of times you’ve bathed with your little ones since returning and Steve having joined you often.

“Your Majesties!” From the garden gate Peter rushes, one arm wrapped around a wicker basket, the other carrying a rectangular box sealed with twine.

That must be the sewing kit.

“That took you all morning.” You observe as he approaches then stops at the edge of your blanket and gives you both a quick bow.

“Yes, I wanted to be sure I purchased the correct one.” Peter explains, but Steve’s eyes are on the basket.

“What is that?” He gestures at it, then fixes his gaze on the young knight.

“Oh, Natasha sent me with a lunch. Cold meats and a few mince pies. There’s a jug of wine and a gourd of water in there for her majesty.” He holds it out and Steve takes it, placing it near you.

“Eat.” He says simply. “While you can do so comfortably with the children sleeping.”

He’s probably right. You begin to pull the food from the basket and portion it out onto two small wooden plates Natasha had placed in the basket.

“Where shall I put the kit, your Majesty? The den?” Peter wonders, holding the box with both arms now that they’re free.

“Yes, that seems-” He begins but then stops as the heavy sound of a guard’s armor approaches.

All of you turn to look in his direction.

Behind him follows a girl who looks to be about Peter’s age. Her beauty is undeniable though she walks awkwardly in the simple gray gown she wears. It isn’t anything fancy but probably the nicest dress she owns.

Still nicer than anything you ever owned before you married Steve.

Her hair is long, falling to her waist in a stunning number of braids. Her brown skin shines golden under the summer sun, her eyes a sharp inky black yet wider than normal with the nervous energy you can see flowing through her. Although her facial features are small, they’re also sharp, brows wide and angular.

“She’s finally here.” Steve exclaims, making to rise before he realizes that he’s still cradling Joseph to his chest and sits back down.

“Your Majesty, this girl says she is here for a job?” The guard offers, and gestures to the lovely young lady at his side.

“Yes, thank you. You may go.” Steve dismisses him and waits for him to depart before he addresses the girl. “Hello again, Miss Jones. You’re right on time.”

Miss Jones takes hold of her skirts and quickly ducks into a curtsy as if just remembering she should be doing so.

“I hope I am not intruding.” She says nervously.

“Not at all.” Steve nods. “This is my wife and Queen. You will report directly to her from this day forth.”

“What?!” You gasp, so surprised your smile vanishes. “Report to me?”

“I have hired Miss Jones to assist you with the children. She will be your second lady in waiting to assist you when and if you should need someone and Natasha is not around or has other things to do.” Steve says pointedly. “You shall do whatever her majesty requires but she’s awfully selfless and terrible with implementing her authority so you might have to read into her needs a bit more than I made it sound like when we met before.”

As all of you look back to Miss Jones, you find that she’s still in her curtsy, her legs probably shaking as she teeters from side to side.

“Y-you don’t have to keep bowing.” Peter tells her and she snaps out of it, nearly toppling over as she stands up straight.

“Right,” Miss Jones says, now standing awkwardly before she decides to give you all a tight anxious smile. “I will do everything I can to serve you with honor, your Majesties.”

Steve looks pleased and after a few more moments of considering the girl, you relax.

“Thank you.” You nod. “I will do my best to be as little a burden as I can be.”

“See?” Steve shakes his head and Miss Jones smiles a little more genuinely. “For now, I think you should rest. You must be tired after your journey. Tomorrow you may commence your duties but for now, Peter? Will you show Miss Jones to her quarters?”

Miss Jones curtsies again as Peter bows. “Yes, your Majesty.”

“Thank you, your majesties.”

For a moment they both stand there awkwardly, waiting for the other to walk. Peter gestures towards the estate and Miss Jones seems to turn but is uncertain if she should. As he begins to walk, she gathers her skirts a bit so that she might walk beside him with steady feet.

You watch them steal several glances at each other. Miss Jones especially watches Peter with an uncertain but curious gaze.

“Oh, this is for you.” Peter tells her and holds out her sewing kit.

“Thank you.” Miss Jones says, taking the box.

“I can carry it for you.” Peter offers.

“Oh…” Miss Jones hands him the box again and they walk on.

As they reach the garden gate, their voices are faint, but you can just make out what they’re saying as they disappear through the hedge.

“Your gown is lovely.” Peter tells her, nervous for a moment as he offers the compliment.

“Would you like to borrow it?” Miss Jones asks, her face serious as she awaits his answer.

“What?” Peter stops walking, fixing her with a dumbfounded look.

“A jest.” She tells him, stopping too.

“Oh.” Peter smiles and nearly laughs but continues to walk. “Right.”

Miss Jones smiles. “Yes. It wouldn’t fit you. Your shoulders are too wide.”

“What are you smiling about?” Steve wonders, pulling your attention away from Peter and Miss Jones while he lays Joseph down beside Maggie.

You offer him a plate of food, shrugging as your smile grows wider.

“Life has a strange way of giving us just what we need when we need it.” You realize, looking at all three of the loves of your life.

“Just as life brought you to me, do you mean?” Steve nods. “Yes. Just what I needed.”

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #royal au #medieval fantasy au #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader fic #steve rogers x you fic #avengers x reader #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #pseudo princess #daddy!steve rogers x reader

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wonniexy · 3 years

Text

# MISSING PUZZLE PIECES NEED TO BE FOUND | yang jungwon.

— 8784 HOURS: OUCH, I FELL FOR YOU

words: 2k

pairing: JUNGWON x reader x jay (mentioned)

genre: angst.

spirit!jungwon, fantasy!au, boyfriend!jay

cw/tw: language, mention of death, angst, lost love

notes: I wasn't planning on making this into a angst chapter :((( + it is not proofread! Beware of grammatical errors!

prompt: 70. "Stop visiting me! It's getting pretty annoying..." "Shut up, you love it when you get to see my face."

Sleep.

How beautiful is it to lay your head on the pillow, after a day of those that feel way too though, close your eyes and immediately go on a journey into one of the parallel worlds that your mind can create every time Morpheus takes you in his arms?

It's beautiful, for you. Almost magical.

Except for those nights when the dear son of Ipno and Nyx decides not to turn into a dream, but into something you've started to hate since a few months ago. And the fact that, each time, you manage to wake up but the thing doesn't seem to want to go away, is making you, simply put, freak out. Completely.

Or, at least, that is what you tell yourself.

You sigh heavily as you manage to open your eyes and stare at the figure sitting comfortably cross-legged at the end of your twin bed. He's smiling, the bastard, you think.

"Could you please stop, what do you call it? Visiting me? It's getting pretty annoying."

"Oh, shut up." He replies, with his usual giggle that, though you'd never admit it, always manages to make you smile internally. "You love it when you get to see my face."

"I'd have to argue with that." You say, crinkling your tired eyes. You yawn. "What do you want now, Jungwon? What do I get this time? What did I do?"

"Oh," the boy, or he who, long ago, had been a boy, begins, settling in closer to you and shaking his head so that his thick brown hair becomes more shaggy, "I'm not here by anyone's will but my own. I have the night off." He shrugs.

You look at him, gripped by an innate desire to choke him with your own hands, and clench your hands into fists. "If you have the night off, why the fuck are you here?"

"To talk?"

"At three in the morning?"

"It's the only time I can interact with anyone - you, so yes. At three in the morning."

"Jungwon..."

"Y/n..."

"Fuck you! Go back to wherever you came from and leave me alone!" You yell, grabbing the pillow from behind your back and throwing it in Jungwon's direction.

"You're looking pretty aggressive tonight." Jungwon scoffs, promptly grabbing the pillow before it can even think of having a chance to hit him. "Did something happen?"

You roll your eyes, only to sit up and hit the covers furiously. "Jay." You say. "Jay happened."

"Why am I not surprised at all?" Jungwon laughs a little. "What did he do this time?"

You scoff. "What he does every time: he doesn't listen to me." You close your eyes and sigh, only to bring your hands to your face and scream, or something purportedly similar, all your anger into them.

"He left me, again. Meaning, we broke up. I guess. He says he loves me, then he suddenly doesn't anymore. Then he loves me again. And I... I try to explain everything to him, Jungwon." You look at your friend (the one you tell yourself you can't stand), sitting next to you but still too far away to be touched. You start to cry in frustration and close your eyes again.

"I try. I always try to tell him that whatever happens can be fixed and it can be fixed if we work together."

If only your eyes were open and looking in front of you, you might see Jungwon's face sadden. It's not the first time he's seen you in this condition: desperate, crying, scared. All because of what you call your boyfriend three times a week and four times not.

Jungwon might lie, now. Lie, again. Lie like he has been doing for the past seven month and a half when he visited you every night, without missing one: despite the fact that you were asleep and couldn't feel his presence. Lie like he has done in his previous life, even if this isn't his second one.

This time, though, lying doesn't seem to make sense to him anymore. It's wearing him down. It reminds him of the time when he was alive and telling lies led him to survive one more day, until there were no more days and he couldn't help it anymore.

You don't really cry; you've never really been able to. Not for Jay and your entire relationship (if that'swhat it can be called), at least. You have your hands clenched tightly on the blankets and you open your eyes almost with difficulty, as your slight sobs subside in the warmth of Jungwon's hand on your covered by a faint layer of cloth shoulder.

Never before had you felt his touch.

He told you he couldn't touch you, or he would have had to leave. Forever.

He told you it was one of the rules he had to follow to make himself earn a new life to live to the fullest, this time.

But now his hand is on your shoulder, and you seem to panic, because even though you can't stand his nocturnal visits, you love him. You love him like he was your long lost brother. He listened to you, all this time. You know a lot about him, as well. You hit it off, as he would normally say.

You don't want him to leave.

"Why did you do that?" You ask, your eyes wide and trembling and your gaze leaping from his hand to his face." You had... You said you weren't allowed to...why- are you fucking out of your mind?" Tears threaten to fall down and you try raising one of your hand to grab his arm and move it away from you before it's too late, even if you don't know when too late is.

"Oh, shut up." Jungwon says, almost laughing – his usual, playful laugh, despite the tone of his voice hinting at unspeakable sadness. "I don't have much time, now, so you're going to listen to me, okay?"

You nod, slowly, in rhythm with what you wish were your own beats.

"I have loved in the past. In my only life." Jungwon begins. "Maybe even too much. And I've lost. Not by my own will, but by the will of something that, even if I fought hard against, I could not bring down. I never let go, or threw down the sword of my love, because that person...oh, y/n, that person was my person. The one. The missing piece of my personal puzzle."

His hand burns on your shoulder, and each sounding word pierces your heart. Ij between tears, you begin to wonder if Jay is the missing piece of your puzzle, if you are the one of his own, or if both of you are the missing piece of someone else's puzzle, lost and hidden among a thousand other pieces and a thousand other boxes.

"And it was like that. That person completed the puzzle perfectly. We could have been framed, placed in plain sight on the largest wall of a luxury home, but the whole thing we had got lost. My ultimate puzzle piece was ripped away from me; it was stolen from me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Lying was my job; lying was what I was trained and supposed to do. Lie about who you really love. Marry the one who will help you grow: not growing up, but growing money and success. But I did not want it and, at some point, I messed up. I was no longer able to hide my forbidden love, my real love. I didn't want to. I thought it wasn't fair. And I ended up paying the consequences of my actions. One by one."

Since you've been knowing him, you never saw Jungwon cry: cheerful, carefree, bastard. The spirit, as he called himself (or as you wanted him to call himself), always showed up in your room with mirth etched on his face. You had asked him how his life had ended, he had answered, but it wasn't tragic and it wasn't sadder than any other death.

He just died, peacefully, his children all grown up and his family by his side.

He never talked about his feelings.

This time, however, the story is different and the tears are not only seen: they are felt deep inside. Each of his tears holds sadness, grief, anguish and repentance.

They all flow and flow and flow profusely, without stopping for a single moment and without letting you see Jungwon's languid dark eyes clearly again.

Your tears seem to follow what Jungwon's ones do.

"I come to see you to make sure you don't follow my steps, because we may have a different story, a different way on how we should handle things, but the moral is the same: don't do what can lead you to live unhappily."

Jungwon cries, but he still manages to speak clearly as he always does.

You want to hug him, hold him and apologize for everything, even though you are not to blame. And neither is him.

"You don't have to lie to anyone. You don't have to. Just stop. Stop. Stop." His voice breaks from sobs. "You're only hurting yourself. And I, after tonight, will no longer be here: there will only be a faded memory of me left in your teenage mind, and that memory will fade and fade and fade again, until it becomes a haze. So, do the right thing, okay? For yourself.

I stopped lying, and I lost, because it wasn't what I was meant to do. If you stop lying now, you will win. Because you are free. And you'll be even freer later, and you'll find your missing puzzle piece. You will be able to live with that missing piece, making it into a found one."

Jungwon's presence bothered you, the first few times. Then, it became pleasant, but to him you never admitted it. Now, as you watch his body dressed as a normal 17-year-old in these years (which aren't his, but which he's tried to get used to) slowly fade until it looks like nothing but dust fluttering around your bedroom, you realize you don't want him to leave.

"You're my best friend, Jungwon." You find yourself saying, crying hard and then harder. "You're my best friend, and I hate to tell you this just now. And I want to hug you, tell you that whatever happened in your previous life you didn't deserve it and that I will never forget you. And I'm so fucking sorry, because you're not going to live a second life because you wanted to help me."

He keeps on fading, but his tears don't stop scrolling. Neither do yours.

"I'm going to stop lying, I'm going to listen to you, and I'm not going to forget your eyes, or your deceptive smiles or your laughter and your inappropriate jokes."

You hear him laugh and mutter a few words you could swear by are "I would do this for you again. Give you a chance."

Then, you just know he can't answer you anymore, because he keeps fading, flying, going away, but you hear everything he would like to keep saying to you, and once again, you close your eyes.

This time, to not see him disappear from your life. Forever.

"I will not forget you. I will find my missing piece. I will complete my puzzle. I will always have you as my ally."

"I love you."

What if I told you that Jungwon is smiling, looking at you and hearing your words, wherever he is now?

#enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #enhypen jungwon #enhypen #jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst

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helloprettybb · 4 years

Text

swindler’s trick

Here’s a periodical fic set in 1870, five years after the Civil War and takes place in England. Inspired by Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice, I tried to mimic the language but probably messed up. This is a Steve x stark!reader and Tony is Anthony because of the time period. Also, the reader is 20 and Steve is 31.

Summary: Steve Rogers needed to clear his head. Haunted from the war and his past relationship, Steve sets sail for England to reunite with an old friend and hopefully distract himself from his life in America. His distraction comes in the form of a beautiful young girl, who proves to be a worthy interest, but will she be enough to help Steve move on from his past?

Warning: poor attempt at victorian era vernacular, victorian standards, fake history, age gap

Word count- 10.6k

Stark’s manor is as ridiculous as the man himself. The large, four-story house resembles a castle with its multiple chimneys and towering peaks. The red roof is angled perfectly to deflect the normally gusty winds. Luckily for Steve, his arrival was met with a slight breeze and shining sun; a complete juxtaposition to the harshness of early Spring.

Nevertheless, Steve isn’t the least surprised as he steps into the extravagant manor. If Steve thought the stone exterior was showy, then the interior was just unnecessarily grand. There were two large staircases that each met on the beautiful marble floors. Steve looks up and sees an intricate chandelier with crystals placed to look like falling rain.

Steve was so taken aback by the architecture that he didn’t notice the man standing at the door. He looks to be in his mid to late 50′s, with gray, balding hair. He stands tall and Steve assumes he’s the butler.

“Hello, sir. My name is Steve Rogers. I sent a letter saying I’d...” Steve tries to explain, but the man cuts him off.

“Ah, Mr. Rogers. Anthony said he’d be expecting you. You can wait in the parlor.” the butler promptly says and walks away. Still caught off guard, Steve doesn’t notice the butler walk away until he’s at lease twelve paces away. Steve looks around confusedly, wondering where the hell the parlor is.

He wanders down a couple hallways and finally comes across what looks like a parlor. There are two single couches with a long, two-person couch in the middle. In the corner, there’s a grand piano that hardly looks touched. Above the stone fireplace, there’s a portrait of Anthony as a child and who Steve assumes are his parents. His father looks like a much sterner version of him and his mother holds a slight resemblance to him. Steve takes a seat in one of the chairs.

It feels like hours until Steve hears his name being called. He practically jumps to his feet and stands at attention. Then he looks and realizes it’s just Anthony. “At ease, soldier.” he jokes and Steve rolls his eyes.

“It’s been a long time, Stark.” he replies and walks over to shake Anthony’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Anthony replies, a genuine smile gracing his face. He gestures to the chairs and says, “Let’s sit.” Anthony takes the seat closer to the entryway while Steve takes the other. “Tea?”

“No, thank you.” Steve responds.

“It’s good to see you, Steven.” Anthony starts. It’s hard to believe they started as tentative allies and are now the closest of friends. Throughout the war, they had their differences, especially since Steve was a captain and Anthony was his First Lieutenant. But when the Civil War was coming to a close and the Union began steadily beating the Confederacy, the two men began to see eye to eye and became the strongest of friends. It saddened Steve when Anthony returned to England, but at least he had Margaret, or so he thought.

Steve replies, “Likewise, Anthony. I see you’re getting on well.”

“My wife would have to disagree. I’ve been in the workroom so often, she’s threatened to board the door shut.” Anthony jokes.

“Well either way, you seem perfectly adjusted.” Steve comments.

“Perfection is relative, old friend. You’ll understand when you find it.” Anthony advises wisely and as if on cue, an angel walks through the doorway. Well, not literally, but you are the closest thing to a saint on earth.

With your smooth hands and polished nails, you don’t look like a servant, but for your status, you dressed rather simply. As opposed to a large, decorated dress, you donned a dark, modest gown. You dressed closer to a middle-class maiden than a noblewoman, yet Steve took note that no outfit could diminish your beauty. Instead of the intricate up-dos, he’s seen many high-class women wear, you have your hair down and pulled back.

Anthony notices your entrance and greets, “Y/n, dear!”

Steve knew Anthony favored beautiful women, but he did not expect for him to marry someone so young. Steve’s seen his fair share of older men and young partners, but he didn’t think Anthony would be that kind of man.

Strolling up to Anthony, you greet him lovingly by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Turning to Steve, you acknowledge politely, “Hello, sir. To what name shall I call you?” The moment you address him, Steve forgets every word in the English language. His mouth runs dry and he starts to regret denying Anthony’s tea offer.

Your stunning beauty and air of confidence fluster Steve and he manages to stutter out, “I- I am Captain America Rogers. I mean, Steve Rogers.” Attempting to recover, he clarifies, “I’m from America and I served as a Captain in the Army.”

You laugh lightly and Steve could have sworn an angel acquired its wings. “Well, Captain America. I appreciate the background information, but I figured from your accent that you were not from here.” you quip.

Anthony glares as you and gently scolds, “He is an old friend, y/n. Please be nice.”

You smile softly and tell him, “Oh papa, I hold no malice. It was a simple jest.” You turn to him and say, “But if any offense was taken, I do apologize. I’m aware that my tongue can be quite scathing.”

Steve realizes that Anthony is your father. He feels foolish and a little disgusted at his previous notion. But now that he knows, he can see the resemblance. Not particularly in appearance, but in attitude. You both carry yourselves in the same charming, self-assured way, like you’re the smartest people in the room.

“No need to apologize, miss. I can handle a sharp tongue,” Steve’s formal tone dropping relatively quickly. Your eyebrow quirks and a small smile plays at your lips.

If you were caught off guard, you didn’t show it as you quickly respond, “Good, but do not worry. I can soften my tongue if the situation requires it.” Anthony shoots you another look, but you pay no attention, keeping your eyes on the American. Steve feels your eyes bear into his, but he can not break your gaze. His heart flutters for the first time in what felt like forever.

Anthony clears his throat to break the growing tension. “Y/n, didn’t you say that Miss Natasha was taking you into town?” You turn to your father and smile.

“Why, thank you, father. If it weren’t for your keen memory, I would have gotten a lashing!” you kiss his cheek and walk over to Steve. “I apologize that our meeting had been cut short. I do hope we see each other again,” You kiss him on the cheek too and Steve prays that his face doesn’t burn on the spot.

His eyes follow you as you walk out of the parlor and out the door. “If you wish to court my daughter, all you have to do is ask,” Anthony states in an unamused tone.

Steve’s eyes snap back to the older man and he quickly explains, “Oh no, that is not my intent, Anthony. Besides, she’s your daughter.”

Anthony scoffs and replies, “She’s of marrying age and can do as she pleases. My only request is that you warn me.” Steve tries to counter him, but Anthony stands. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish.” He gestures to the man at the door and says, “Mr. Jarvis will show you to your room.” With that, Anthony leaves Steve alone with Mr. Jarvis.

Steve quickly learns the routine of Stark’s manor. Without Anthony’s wife, Pepper, and their daughter, Morgan, you and your father mostly kept to yourselves. Anthony stays in his workroom downstairs and would remain for hours on end, only appearing upstairs for meals.

You spend most of your time in the library and occasionally walk the grounds. Steve doesn’t know what restrains him from joining you on your walks, especially since you granted him an invitation during his first dinner.

Instead, he opted to observe you. He’s learned a great deal over the past few days. You chose to wear plain dresses and favored colors on the darker end of the spectrum. You and your father enjoyed battles of wit during meals with most occasions ending in a draw. You were very curious, or at least, toward Steve. You asked him a multitude of questions and even though Steve was happy to answer, Anthony shot your line of questioning down with a quick glare.

You read often, usually books on philosophy and tales of heroism over religion and spirituality. When you read, your lips would get caught between your teeth and you’d occasionally mouth some of the words. Steve could tell when you disagreed with a passage because your smooth forehead would slowly wrinkle as your eyebrows furrowed. Besides meals, the library was the only time Steve would spend with you. But unlike dinner, the two of you would sit in silence, just basking in each other’s company.

Nearly a week into his stay, Steve, out of stupidity or bravery, decides to join you on a walk. When you see him at the doorway, you remark, “Captain America! To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“I decided to take you up on your offer. I hope I am not too late being as it was last week,” he remarks cheekily.

You smile happily, “Oh, do not worry about that, sir. Besides, your invitation was set to expire tomorrow.”

“That’s good news, but I must ask, will that cursed nickname be going away any time soon?” he jokingly asked.

Smiling, you reply, “No, it will not.” Stepping out of the manor, you question, “Shall we go?” Steve nods steps out, moving to your left side.

You start your usual walk around the grounds. The sun beams down on your face making your skin almost glow. Steve’s never been this close and he can see every detail on your face. If he thought you were beautiful from afar, he doesn’t know what to think now.

“How long are you staying here?” you ask, turning to Steve for the first time.

He sighs and absentmindedly replies, “I don’t know, actually.” His answer causes your head to tilt and brow furrow slightly so he reassures, “Don’t fret. While Anthony has granted me an eternal stay, I shall leave before the year ends.”

You shake your head lightly and explain, “Oh, I don’t worry, Captain America. I’m just curious as to why you’re uncertain.” Steve averts his eyes, unable to meet your intense, innocent ones. You seem to read his nervous body language so you change the topic.

“We don’t get visitors very often,” you comment. Steve relaxes a little and you add, “All I know is that you’re an old friend of my father’s.”

He answers the unspoken question by saying, “He was my first lieutenant in the Civil War.”

“Ah, I remember him telling of his time in America,” you remark. Steve’s eyes return to yours. He can see the excitement and eagerness as you ask, “What is it like? America?”

Steve doesn’t know where to begin. From the bustling city life to the beautiful countryside, America is a diverse place. But then the memories come back and Steve hopes you can’t read the flash of sadness that spreads across his face.

“Well, it is very beautiful,” Steve says simply. He can tell by your excited expression that you crave more, so he adds, “In some places, there are hills as far as the eye can see. There are also forests so dense that you cannot get through without a map.”

You seem satisfied with his answer and dreamily add, “I wish I could visit, but father forbids me from going beyond the moors.”

Steve senses your disappointment and tries to cheer you up, “The moors aren’t too bad, Miss y/n.” He looks around at the scenery, searching for something to point out. He stops by the garden and hastily proposes, “The flowers are quite beautiful if you ask me.”

You let out a small laugh at his half-hearted attempt and concede, “Yes, I suppose that’s true.” You sigh a little sadly, remarking, “But it gets quite lonely up here.”

Steve couldn’t control his thought process and lost even more control of his mouth as he asks, “I hope I do not come across as rude when I ask why you have not wed yet.”

He already regrets his intrusion, but luckily, you don’t seem offended. “It isn’t rude, Captain America.” With that, he can see that you are in a joking mood. “Men want a woman with open ears and a closed mouth. Seeing as I have neither, men do not try and pursue me.”

You smile back at him, but unlike your usual smile, it doesn’t reach your eyes. Steve decides not to pry and comments, “While I do agree your mouth is rather liberal, I’d have to disagree about your ears.”

Your smile finally reaches your eyes again and you laugh, “Tell my father that.”

“Well, Anthony never was the most patient listener.” Steve states to which you clearly agree, if your loud and genuine laugh had anything to say about it.

Once your laughter dies down, you turn the subject to him, “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Steve questions, raising an eyebrow.

“No wife? Surely a military man such as yourself would have a mistress at least,” you comment curiously. Looking down, Steve smiles and shakes his head.

“Women were mostly found in the tents of upper-class men,” Steve replies ambiguously. He feared that if he dug too deep, it’d only dredge up his past. Maybe he was imagining it, but your knowing look made Steve think you understood his vagueness.

The two of you continued your walk in peaceful silence. You broke the silence by asking, “You mentioned that women were reserved for upper-class men,” Steve nods in confirmation and you continue, “Am I to assume you are not of high status?”

Steve explains, “I was baseborn. In the Army, I quickly rose through the ranks which in turn, granted me a higher status.”

Steve fears your impending judgment, but instead, you go quiet and confess, “I was baseborn, too,” You avert your eyes as if it were a terrible secret.

“How so?” Steve questions, now completely intrigued. When you saw he only held curiosity, you returned to your relaxed state.

“My mother was a village girl. Father had an affair and when grandfather found out, he became furious. Father was forbidden from seeing my mother, but little did he know, that he impregnated her on their final tryst.” you tell, searching for any disgust in Steve’s eye.

Steve tilts his head curiously and asks, “Is that why Anthony came to America?”

You smile at his interest and reply, “Partially. He always wanted to leave, but the death of his parents pushed over them edge. He was only seventeen and didn’t think he could run the business himself. He would have stayed in America if it weren’t for Obadiah Stane.”

“Who?” Steve questions.

“He was the second in line for the company. My father didn’t just leave the house behind, but the business. Father secretly suspects Stane killed his parents, but that’s neither here nor there.”

“Where’s Mr. Stane now?” Steve asks.

“He’s in prison for embezzling money.” you reply.

“When Father received word that Stane’s business practices were less than humane, he had to come back. Being the sole heir, father was able to reclaim his title as lord of the house and owner of the company.”

“How did he find you?”

“With his father gone, he decided to reunite with his former love, but when he discovered her dead and me in her place...” You look off to the distance as if you’re trying to find the right wording, “He was surprised, to say the least.”

Lightening up, you add, “Luckily, he met Pepper shortly after and they wed quickly. Then, they had Morgan and they lived happily ever after,” you end a little sarcastically.

Steve hums in understanding and asks, “Surely, it was difficult for you to adjust to life here.”

“It still is. I’ve lived at the manor for nearly five years and I still forget frivolous things like which spoon is which.” Steve laughs heartily in agreement and you join in at a quieter tone.

“It is rather odd, isn’t it? A spoon is a spoon, what difference does it make!” he exclaims. This makes you burst into a very unladylike laugh, but you don’t care and neither does Steve. For once, it feels like you both met someone who understands you.

After the first walk around the moors, Steve has joined you on every other one since. Your topics ranged from philosophy to politics. Although he never cared about politics, Steve found himself captivated by your ideas. It saddens him a little that the world may never experience your brilliant mind.

To Anthony’s delight or dismay, you wordlessly invited Steve to your usual dinner banter. Although he is constantly left speechless and outwitted, Steve enjoys being talked into a corner. He loves the small smile and look in your eyes when you know that you have someone beat intellectually.

Tonight’s discussion had something to do with Descartes. Steve got lost the minute you brought up dualism and metaphysics. You’re in the middle of explaining how mental phenomena are non-physical when Anthony interrupts, “Mr. Rumlow will be joining us this Easter.” Your teasing smile drops and is replaced by a scarily sober expression.

Through gritted teeth, you ask, “Why?” Reading your body language, Steve can tell there’s something more beneath the surface.

“It’s business, dear.” Tony sighs exasperatedly. Steve can’t tell if he’s annoyed with you, the mysterious Mr. Rumlow, or both.

“And for how long?” You start cutting your food more aggressively than before.

“He failed to mention it, but I presume a quite long time,” Anthony responds and you scowl.

“May I be excused? I feel rather ill,” you announce but leave before waiting for a response. Steve feels an urge to follow you but is stopped in his place when his friend speaks.

“Do not mind her. She sees Rumlow as more of a fiend than a man,” Anthony says absentmindedly once you leave the room.

Trying to hold back any snark, Steve comments, “I could see that,” Anthony doesn’t reply, but from his small smirk, Steve knows that his sarcasm bled through.

They finish their dinner in silence. Once his plate is empty, Anthony gets up and leaves without saying a word. Steve glances at your mostly full plate and figures you must be hungry. Eating one last bite, he scoops up your plate and walks up the steps to your room.

After a few faint knocks, you open the door. You still hold the look of contempt that you had at dinner, but at the sight of Steve or the food, you brighten up. “Thank you, Steve. I am absolutely famished, but I did not want to face my father again.”

You move away from the doorway and subtly invite him in. He hands you the plate and you sit on the edge of your bed. Steve pulls the chair from under your desk and turns to face you. While you eat, he asks, “In fear of angering you more, may I ask why Rumlow’s name caused such trouble?”

You set your plate down and tell Steve sincerely, “Our families have been business partners for decades. I don’t think father is too fond of him either, but he has to keep acquaintance with him.”

Taking another bite, you continue, “His wife died years ago, and ever since, he’s looked for a wife in yours truly.”

“I take it he doesn’t handle rejection very well?” Steve suggests. For the first time since your sudden exit, you smile.

“No, he does not. Don’t get me wrong; rejection can be delightful, but it can only happen so many times before it becomes tedious,” you respond, lightening up even more. Steve gives a short laugh and gets up to leave so you can finish your meal. You ask quietly, “Can you stay?” Even adding, “Please?” Steve sits back down wordlessly and keeps you company.

“Y/n!” the little girl squealed as she ran from her mother and to you. Picking her up off her feet, you wrap Morgan into a hug.

“How was the visit to your grandmother’s?” you ask happily. Steve hasn’t seen you this genuinely happy and giddy. He can see that you care about Morgan deeply. Today, you chose a lighter-colored dress with more embellishments and a larger petticoat than usual. Steve assumed it was Morgan’s favorite color since your dress matched the ribbon in her hair.

When you see Pepper approaching, you set Morgan down and greet your step-mother. “Pepper! We have missed you.” you exclaim, hugging her more reservedly.

“Please tell me that Anthony spent most of his time outside the workroom,” Pepper jokingly begs, even though she probably knows the answer.

You laugh politely and reply, “I would, but you know I mustn't lie, step-mother.”

Pulling away from you, Pepper turns to Steve and asks, “You must be Captain Rogers. Anthony wrote that you were staying with us.” She plants two light kisses on each of Steve’s cheeks.

He’s about to tell her to call him by his first name when you speak up, “Please, step-mother, he goes by Captain America.” He looks at you and sees the mischief in your eyes.

Pepper glances at Steve curiously and he explains, “It is a wretched nickname she has given me.” Pepper nods understandingly, knowing her step-daughter’s quirks.

Morgan asks impulsively, “Are you courting my sister?” Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Y/n bursts out laughing, dropping any attempt at civility.

Pepper can’t decide who to scold first, so she chastises, “Morgan, dear! We do not ask people questions like that,” Pepper tells Steve, “I do apologize, Captain. She is not even five years old.”

“No need, Mrs. Stark.” Steve dismisses with a wave of his hand.

You speak up, “Besides,” Crouching down to Morgan’s level, you whisper something to her. Steve strains his ear to listen, but can’t make out a single word. Pepper gives you a look when you stand back up.

Instead of prying, Pepper decides, “Let’s get inside before you corrupt Morgan any further.”

“Oh, do not worry, dear step-mother. There will be plenty of time for that,” you say cheerily. Morgan and Pepper stroll inside while Jarvis brings their bags inside. When the door closes, you tell Steve, “I assume you want to know what I whispered in Morgan’s ear.”

“The thought did cross my mind,” Steve jokes back. You smile and move toward him. Going on the tips of your toes to be near his height, you look like you’re about to spill.

Pressing your lips to the shell of his ear, you whisper, “It’s a secret between sisters, Captain.” Moving back to the bottoms of your feet, you turn toward the door, but not before giving him a cheeky wink. Oh no, Steve Rogers is falling in love.

Morgan and Pepper’s return seemed to lift your spirits enough to distract you from Rumlow’s impending arrival. You squeezed time with Morgan into your schedule, consequently lessening the time you and Steve spent alone. He didn’t mind, after all, she is your sister, but Steve couldn’t help but feel a little envious.

Luckily, Morgan has grown quite fond of him. She includes him with as often as she can. Today’s activity is a tea party.

“Miss y/n, will you pour the tea?” Morgan asks, imitating her mother’s posh accent and miserably failing. You smile and rise from your seat.

“Anything for you, duchess,” you respond. Picking up the teapot, you walk around the table.

Moving to fill Morgan’s teacup first, you begin to pour when she holds up a hand and commands, “Stop, please.” You and Steve struggle to contain your laughter as Morgan, with her pinkie in the air, lifts the cup to her mouth.

She holds back from making a face and announces, “Delicious!”

“Why thank you, duchess.” You walk over to Steve and pour tea into his cup. You’re so close that Steve catches a whiff of your perfume. The closeness makes it hard for him to concentrate. He knows you can feel him looking, but don’t say anything, sending him a small, cheeky smile.

You pour your own cup of tea and before you could raise your cup, the clock on the wall chimes loudly. Turning to your sister, you question, “Duchess Morgan, don’t you have studies to attend to?”

Morgan pouts and replies, “I don’t need them.” You laugh heartily and crouch next to her.

You reason with her, “Morgan, your studies are very important. You don’t want me to become smarter than you, do you?” She concedes and hops off her chair before running out of the room.

Watching her leave to make sure she doesn’t run back, you stand up and sit back in your chair. You take a sip of tea and notice Steve is looking at you dotingly. “What?” you ask, laughing into your cup.

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re a really good sister.” Steve comments. You scoff lightly at his compliment.

“Thank you, Steve. But it’s not difficult when she’s such a good kid,” you reply and Steve nods in agreement. For some reason, Steve can’t help but imagine you as a mother. You’d probably read to them before bed and when you were done, you’d go to him. The two of you would share a bed like husband and wife and you’d never have to worry about pompous suitors or ridiculous social expectations. He’d hold you in his arms like he yearned to do the moment you met.

Steve’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears cursing at the other end of the table. He looks up and sees your skirt covered in tea. “Are you alright?” Steve asks.

You laugh out of embarrassment and reply, “Yes, I just spilled tea all over my skirt. Can you hand me the cloth over there?” You point to the towel near him and Steve grabs it. Instead of handing it to you, he squats in front of you and dabs your skirt clean. If you had any protests, you didn’t say them as you sat patiently and let him dab your lap.

Steve continues to clean in silence when you interrupt absentmindedly, “You know, Morgan is one of the few people who don’t look down on me.” Steve’s hand stops and he looks up at you. You’re looking away from him and you have a distant look on your face.

“Why is that?” Steve asks, causing you to laugh lightly.

“Well, how couldn’t they? I’m a peasant girl born out of wedlock.” you roll your eyes, but Steve could see some hurt behind them. He places the towel on the floor and moves his hand so it’s covering yours, which are resting on your abdomen. You don’t retreat, which surprises Steve.

The intimate moment is broken up by Mr. Jarvis walking into the room and announcing, “Miss Stark, your father requests your presence.”

It’s a fair, sunny day so after days of begging from Morgan, Anthony finally conceded and decided that the whole family will attend the Spring Awakening Fair. Stepping onto the grounds, you look ethereal in your light, flowy dress.

“Let’s go before father buys Morgan the whole fair,” you announce, grabbing Steve’s hand without any hesitation. Steve feels his heart do a flip before he follows you away from Pepper, Anthony, and Morgan. Strolling around, you light up when you see a medium’s booth.

Raising an eyebrow, Steve asks skeptically, “You believe in psychics?”

“Nope,” you reply happily and before Steve could process your answer, you pull Steve’s hand and half-drag Steve to the booth.

“Hello, miss. Would you and your betrothed like to have your auras read?” the medium asks. Before Steve could correct her, you interject.

“Yes, please.” You sit down and Steve follows suit.

“Hold each other’s hands and stare into each other’s eyes.” the medium instructs. Steve grabs your other hand and turns to face you. He’s never allowed himself to look at you for so long, but now that he’s technically supposed to, he gives himself a pass just this once. Steve takes in every detail of your face so that he can remember every feature when he goes to sleep. Maybe if he collects the perfect picture, you will invade his dreams more often.

“I’m sensing...” the medium starts and Steve could see you struggling to hold back laughter. Luckily, the woman’s eyes are closed as she continues, “You miss, have an indigo aura. Yes, yes. You are a kind and intuitive person, who values intelligence and love. You seek peace in your life and while you’re a little vulnerable, your partner can help with that.”

Steve didn’t believe in psychics, but that was a pretty accurate assertion. So that the psychic can’t hear, Steve mouths, “That was quite accurate, was it not?” You scrunch your nose and shake your head. Before you could mouth back, the medium continues.

“You sir, have a blue aura. I see...” the medium says, “Mostly royal blue, with hints of dark blue. You are open-minded and generous, but the hints of dark blue show that you are scared.” You tilt your head in confusion and Steve shrugs.

“Something has happened in your life to cause distrust and a need to control. Perhaps your partner could help clear the dark blue from your aura. You two have very compatible auras. Sometimes, you miss, will feel overwhelmed, but your partner’s calming aura shows that he will be able to soothe you. I expect the two of you to have a long and loving relationship.” the medium finishes and opens her eyes.

You notice that she opened her eyes so you nod enthusiastically and say, “Thank you! That was very eye-opening.” You drop a few coins into the jar and walk away from the booth.

Once you are out of ear-shot, Steve asks, “Do you believe it?”

“Hm?” you ask, initially confused, then you realize, “Oh, the medium? No, no.” you shake your head as if you’re trying to get rid of the notion itself. “The idea that auras follow us around is illogical.” Steve hummed in agreement, but if he squinted, he could almost see an indigo halo around your head.

“Is that y/n y/ln?” a voice says behind Steve. He turns and sees a young man. Steve wonders how he knows you but judging from the look on your face, you aren’t pleased to see him. The man approaches and you quickly don a fake smile.

“Aldrich Killian!” you announce overenthusiastically. “It’s been so long.” Aldrich pulls you into a hug that lingers too long in Steve’s opinion. He finally pulls away after what felt like hours.

“It really has. How are you?” the man asks. He’s small and fidgety like he’s scared of the mere existence of you.

“I am amazing. May I remind you my surname is Stark?” you ask teasingly, but Steve can see the tension beneath your eyes.

“Yes, how could I forget! You became your father’s charity case.” Killian replies, smile bright as before, but his words still cut sharply.

The insult doesn’t phase you as you match his tone, “Well I’d rather be his charity case than be stuck with the likes of you.”

Aldrich doesn’t respond and instead turns to Steve. He asks, “And who is this?”

“Captain Steven Rogers.” he introduces, maintaining his stoicism. Aldrich grabs Steve’s hand with both hands and shakes it aggressively.

“It is great to meet you, sir.” Aldrich states. After a few violent shakes, he finally releases Steve’s hand.

He apologizes, “I’m sorry for taking up your time, y/n.”

He starts to walk away and you call, “Hey, Killian!” He turns back around and you drop your smile. “Please give Steven’s watch and my necklace back.” Steve looks down at his wrist and realizes that his watch really is gone. Aldrich comes back and Steve watches as Aldrich’s sheepish act disappears and is replaced by contempt. You hold out your hand and Killian drops the jewelry into your palm.

“See you’ve taken on the family business,” you taunt, “How is your father, by the way?” Aldrich scowls and Steve assumes that whatever happened isn’t good. Your hand on Steve’s wrist snaps him back to attention. You hold his wrist up so you can put his watch back on.

“You’ve gotten better, Killian. But your hugs still linger too long and you shake men’s hands too fiercely.” you comment absentmindedly as you clasp Steve’s watch around his wrist.

“Oh, y/n. I only linger that long for you,” Aldrich comments creepily. Steve sees your smile falter slightly before returning, a little smaller.

“Whatever you thought we had simply didn’t exist.” You grab Steve’s arm tightly and tell Killian, “We better head back to the manor,” You turn around to leave Aldrich alone before he gets one final word in.

Killian yells behind your back, “You can put on a fancy dress and expensive jewelry, but you’ll always be one of us.”

You hand Steve your necklace and ask, “Can you put this on for me?” Steve nods and you turn your back to him. He finds it harder than it should be to clasp the necklace, but the intense smell of your perfume is slowly overwhelming his senses.

To ground himself, Steve asks, “How did you know he stole from us?”

“It’s a common swindler’s trick.” you state. You feel the chain drop onto your neck and you turn to face Steve. You continue, “You greet the person enthusiastically to give yourself time to steal. While you’re stealing, you distract them with flattery and small talk. They don’t even realize they were robbed and by the time they do, you’re far gone.”

Steve is stunned by your extensive knowledge and bluntly says, “You know a lot about that.”

You laugh and admit, “Let’s just say, I have some experience.” You, a thief? He could just imagine a younger you going around picking pockets, distracting people with your effortless charm.

Steve furrows his brows and asks, “Were you like him?”

“Oh, heavens no. At least, not that bad. I knew who to steal from who not to.”

“And who deserved theft?” Steve asks, not out of judgment but actual curiosity.

“The usual. Rich arseholes who treated anyone of a lower socioeconomic status like dirt.” you answer casually.

“So you were a Robin Hood?” Steve jokes.

“Sure, but only for a short while. When my grandmother found out, she was furious and banned me from meeting Killian. In hindsight, that was one of the best decisions she’s ever made, but at the time, I was heartbroken.” you explain.

“What made you change your mind about him?” Steve questions.

“I saw the vile ways he treated women he sought after.” you answer simply. There is probably more to that response, but Steve decides he shouldn’t pry.

Instead, he nods and holds his arm out. “Come on, let’s trick some more psychics.” You smile and grab his arm.

“Y/n, dear. Rumlow will be here any minute. Are you ready?” Anthony calls upstairs. Steve’s standing beside him at the bottom of the stairs. The days after the fair had been amazing. You and Steve spent incalculable amounts of time together. He was surprised that no one mentioned it since you aren’t officially courting. Your spirits were extremely high, until this morning when you remembered who was arriving.

“Yes, father. Be down soon.” you respond back. Anthony huffs exasperatedly and goes toward the parlor, leaving Steve alone at the base of the stairs. He hears shuffling and a couple thumps upstairs, before you yell, “Okay, I’m ready.” he turns and his breath is taken away.

Steve Rogers is a simple man. He’s straightforward, hard-working, and sharp. These traits helped him through school and shot him up the ranks in the Army. He became one of the youngest captains in the Union army. He battled Confederates, god damn it!

But... you’re so beautiful. Sauntering down the stairs, you look like an angel coming down from heaven. Steve takes in your appearance. Your dress is a deep green color that matches the jeweled choker around your neck. The large skirt is a stark contrast to your usual demure day dresses and Steve’ realized yet again that your beauty is ever-present. No matter your wardrobe, the essence of you shines through. Your hair is higher than normal, with elegant curls resting on your shoulders. The chandelier above your head only adds to the natural glow of your aura. He could hear the light tapping of your heels on the grand marble stairs until you took your final step before him.

“Hi,” you greet meekly as if you’re the one that’s intimidated.

Steve, in his rather plain-looking dress clothes, replies, “Hi,” Steve’s eyes linger a little longer than seems appropriate, but you don’t appear to mind, in fact, doing the same thing in return. Your silent exchange is broken by the sound of horses outside.

“Sir, Mr. Rumlow is here.” Jarvis calls, alerting your father who strolls in from the parlor. Steve catches a look of disgust grace your face before it quickly changes into a wide, fake smile when the door opens.

“Mr. Rumlow.” Antony greets, holding out his hand.

“Mr. Stark.” Rumlow shakes his hand in return. As they exchange pleasantries, Steve looks the man up and down. He looks to be about Steve’s age, maybe a tad older. He has harsh, dark features that only further Steve’s already tainted view of the man.

“And who must this be?” Rumlow asks, turning to Steve.

“Captain Steven Rogers,” he responds and Steve could’ve sworn he heard you chuckle quietly after using his rank. Maybe that was low of him, but he was still quite wary of Mr. Rumlow.

“Pleasure to meet you.” The exchange is short before the man turns to you. Almost like a wolf who’s spotted his prey, Rumlow’s eyes darken and his slightly genial smile resembles more of a snarl.

“Miss Stark. Why, you look more and more beautiful every time I see you.” Rumlow compliments. You give a quick curtsy, smile dropping ever so slightly. Steve’s hands ball into a fist quickly before he forces himself to relax his hand. “I am surprised a man hasn’t made a bride of you yet.” Steve had to will his feet to stay or else the dinner party would have ended embarrassingly quick.

“Well, a woman’s role isn’t just to marry, is it?” you reply, still holding that bright, wide smile. Rumlow laughs as if you said a joke, but Steve knows the sincerity behind your words. His disgusting laugh further cements Steve’s idea that Rumlow is not a good man.

Anthony, seeming to sense the burgeoning tension, announces, “Dinner will be ready shortly. Shall we?” Everyone follows him into the dining room, with Rumlow charging forward before anyone even had the chance to move.

Entering the dining room, Steve sees that Rumlow has already taken the spot beside Anthony. Steve sits across from Rumlow and you sit beside him. After the wine is poured, Steve grabs his chalice and takes a slow sip. He watches as Rumlow takes one long swig before requesting more. You and Steve share a look of both amusement and concern, knowing where the night is headed.

Anthony and Rumlow start to talk business so to save yourself from boredom, you talk to Steve. “I wish Morgan were here.”

“Yes, if it weren’t for her cursed bedtime.” Steve replies jokingly to test what mood you are in. You roll your eyes, signaling to Steve that you’re at least somewhat yourself.

“I know Pepper isn’t much of an admirer of Rumlow either, but it’s a shame that she was granted an invitation out of this.” you admit a little glumly.

“Well fear not, Y/n. You still have me.” Steve encourages and you shoot a smile back. You and Steve continue to talk quietly until your conversation is intruded by plates being placed in front of the two of you.

Rumlow’s lack of table manners is extremely apparent as he gorges on the food. You stifle a laugh by lifting your napkin to your lips, but Steve catches you and bites his lip to contain his laughter. Dinner is fairly uneventful, while Anthony and Rumlow continue to talk and you and Steve share stories. It’s almost as if the two of you are alone on a date until you’re interrupted by your father.

“Y/n, after dessert, would you mind showing Mr. Rumlow around the manor?” Anthony tells, more of a command than a request.

Attempting to keep your tone light, you reply, “But father, hasn’t he been here before. I’m sure the manor hasn’t changed too drastically since he’s been here last.”

Before Anthony could respond, Rumlow interrupts, “Oh but Miss Y/n. I would love to refresh my mind on all the beauties this place has to offer.” Something about his wording and his intense gaze toward you angered Steve and he felt his grip tighten around his fork.

Pretending to give in and not still be utterly repulsed by the idea, you concede, “Well, okay. I look forward to it.” Rumlow nods and continues down to his dinner plate. Steve looks over at you, but your gaze is down. Steve decides to leave it alone when he feels a soft hand reach for his own. You still aren’t looking over at him, but your brow is furrowed slightly as you eat. Steve encompasses your hand in his and it appears to ease the tension slightly.

Steve doesn’t let go of your hand for the rest of eating, opting to hold his silverware with his left hand instead. The other men don’t appear to notice, as Rumlow’s mind is only on the excursion he was promised. Sadly, after dessert is taken away, Steve has to release your hand as you and Rumlow leave the dining room.

Watching you leave, Steve gets an uneasy feeling and quietly excuses himself before walking out. He tries outside first and it doesn’t take long before he’s alerted of your presence.

“Get your hands off me you loathly poltroon!” Steve hears you yell. He turns the corner and sees Rumlow grasping your wrist tightly with no intent to let go. Without thinking, Steve runs toward you and shoves Rumlow away.

“You disgusting rapscallion! Is that how you treat a lady?” Steve bellows angrily and punches Rumlow in the face. Turning to you, he softens instantly and questions, “Are you okay, Y/n?”

You break your disgusted look at Rumlow and tell Steve, “Yes, let’s just please leave.” Steve ushers you away. You don’t say anything as you stomp towards the gazebo.

Steve could feel the anger emanating from your body. For the second time, he asks, “Are you sure you are okay? Because that man is-”

“Do you know why filthy men like Rumlow seek me out?” you interrupt angrily. Steve’s never seen you so mad, but now he knows to never cross you.

Continuing, you shout, “It’s not for my brains or my character, but my dowry. To them, I’m just a prize to be won! Did you know that my estate is worth a small country? But since I’m a woman, all of my fortune will be a man’s, and every single one I have come across thinks it will be them.”

Once you get that off your chest, you start to settle down. Sitting down on a bench, you hang your head a little and state, “All anyone sees is an inheritance with a pretty face.”

Not knowing what to say, Steve removes his jacket and sits beside you on the bench. Your once intricate up-do is falling around your face, which is good in Steve’s opinion since he never liked that hairstyle in the first place. The bottom of your skirt is muddy from walking through the grass. “I’m sorry.” Steve meekly apologizes while handing you his jacket. You thank him quietly and throw it around your shoulders.

Removing your shoes spitefully, you scoff, “It’s not your fault all upper-class men are greedy little pricks that only care about their appearances.” Steve lets out a noise, resembling a snort more than a laugh. He knew that far too well from his time in the Army. Even though the higher rank came with privileges, Steve occasionally wished he was still a private, realizing there were too many poncy majors and captains.

“If it’s any consolation, I think there’s a lot more to you than your money.” He hears you sniffle, but your eye line remains down.

“Thank you, Steve.” you reply, eyes still down and watery. Your head hangs down in dejection.

Sensing your sadness, Steve asks, “Would you like to hear why I actually came to England?” Your eyes move up to his and you sit up straight, nodding quietly. Steve sighs and begins his story, “During the war, I met a woman named Margaret Carter. We had a brief courtship and married quickly, but since I was mostly in battle, we hardly saw each other.”

Steve sees that you’re actively listening so he continues, “I thought I had met my soulmate, but I was young. A fool, really.” Steve looked down, finding it difficult to continue the story.

He clears his throat and tells, “Marriage would not be easy and I knew that. But I did not predict its difficulty until I truly experienced it.”

“Did you fight?” you ask quietly, breaking your silence.

“No, but that would have been preferable. War affects everyone differently, y/n. You have to understand that. I was withdrawn, avoidant and I- I just became a different man and...” Steve trails off, scared of your reaction.

You place your hand on his and assure, “I promise, Steven. Nothing you can say, could change the way I see you.” You’re listening intently, eyes wide with eagerness to hear his story.

“I was away very often. After the assassination of Lincoln, I was offered a position as head of security for the next president. She said it was okay, but...” Steve feels you hold his hand tighter, grounding him. “During my long bouts of absence, it was only natural that she found someone else. She continued her tryst for nearly two years before she informed me.”

“How did you react?” You ask quietly, your faint voice cutting through Steve’s foggy recollection.

“That’s the issue. I didn’t react much at all. I simply left and stayed with my close friend until the divorce settled. It was long and tiring, taking over two years. Nobody knew the true reason for the separation as we feared out tarnished reputations. Months later, I learned from an old friend that Peggy was to engaged to be married with that man. I knew I couldn’t be in the same place when they wed, so I left.” Steve stayed quiet and you followed suit for a couple moments.

“I’m sorry.” you apologize, like you were the problem. Sympathy etched onto your face and soft, delicate features turned down with sadness.

“It’s not your fault,” Steve reminded with a small smile to lighten the mood a bit. You bit your lip, drawing attention to them and reminding Steve just how much he yearns to kiss you.

“I know, but still. I don’t see how a man like you deserved such hardship.” you shed a tear and Steve is touched by your empathy toward him. Gently wiping the tear off your cheek, Steve boldly keeps his hand rested on your face. You don’t seem to mind, looking up at him through your slightly wet lashes.

“But if it weren’t for that trouble, I would have never met you.” As if the spirit of Cupid himself possessed Steve, he boldly confesses, “Darling, I would endure ten times the hardship if it meant I could meet you.” Steve felt a pang of fear, worried that he came on too strong and risked losing your friendship. But if the small gasp and softening of your eyes indicated anything, then you liked it. Now’s your chance, Steve. You look so sweet, so raw, so perfect.

Steve feels the atmosphere shift as he leans toward your face, his thumb softly brushing your lip. You mirror his body language and lean towards him too. As if the universe were pulling the two of you together, Steve could feel himself fall into your sweetness; your auras melding with each other. Steve is inches away from your lips when he hears the clanking of hooves in the distance and instantly, the magic dissipates.

The two of you break apart instantly as if nothing was about to happen. You smooth out your dress and clear your throat. Steve wants to stay. He really does, but he knows the kinds of rumors that could emerge if he’s alone with you any longer.

“We better go inside,” Steve suggests and you nod. Getting up, you leave the gazebo before him and he follows suit.

Much to Steve’s delight, Rumlow immediately left for home. After talking to an angry and frustrated Anthony, Steve walks up to his room. Walking up the stairs, he glances at your room and is almost tempted to go in, but he forces himself to turn the other way.

He can’t believe he almost kissed you. You were so close and your lips felt so smooth under his finger. Oh, how he wishes they were against his own. Steve wonders if he will ever have another chance or perhaps, you may try to forget it altogether. Steve feels like such a fool for letting himself fall so hard. But how couldn’t he when you’re just so... you.

Steve hears a knock on the door and answers, “Come in.” When he sees you step through, he stands to his feet. His jacket is slung around your right arm. You’ve changed into your nightdress which is covered by your robe to preserve your modesty. Still, Steve makes a point to keep his eyes on yours.

“Here’s your jacket.” you say meekly, still standing by the door. Steve walks over to grab it from you. His fingers brush against yours and he yearns to lace his in yours but refrains from doing so.

“You could have waited till morning to return it.” Steve states honestly, trying to not jump to conclusions as to why you came at such a late hour.

“I know,” you reply simply. Steve hangs the coat on the coat hanger beside you and closes the door, just in case anyone happens to walk by. You’re still standing as if you’re expecting something.

Steve stands before you, but you don’t retreat, instead, looking up at Steve. “Rumlow has left for town,” you inform him. He knows and you know that he does, but he assumes you only said that to break the palpable tension.

“Yes, I heard he sent for a carriage the moment he hit the ground,” Steve half-jokes. You let out a short laugh, one to show him you read the humor but it was enough to tell him you didn’t feel it. He can feel your uneasiness from the way your hands are fidgeting to the constant flickers of your gaze to the ground. Your usual confidence is replaced with insecurity and unsureness.

“Shall we talk about what was about to happen?” you question. Thank the heavens that you are the one who brought it up, for Steve doesn’t think he has the assuredness to do it himself.

“Yes, I suppose we should,” Steve remarks. He’s about a foot away from you, but he could feel himself yearn to move closer. “I hope I did not bring you discomfort. I simply had to ease the weight on my soul,”

You shake your head and respond, “No, Steven, it was welcome really. I just wish we weren’t interrupted.” Your candidness startles him slightly. While you’ve never been mistrustful, he’s never seen you this open.

“Those damn horses,” Steve says, lightness entering his voice. You smile the widest he’s seen you smile since Rumlow arrived.

“Yes, if it weren’t for those wretched creatures...” you drift off as if there is a thought in your mind that you’re too reserved to say out loud. Steve takes a step towards you and brings your hands up to his. You gladly take them and Steve feels your delicate fingers slip into his perfectly like they were always meant to be there.

“May I do this?” Steve asks, almost like he’s asking himself. You nod, biting the corner of your lip lightly. You look like you’re having an inner battle of sorts and before Steve could decipher the turmoil, he feels your hands grip his shirt and pull him towards you. Steve realizes just in time as you capture his lips with yours.

The kiss is desperate and heated, but not devoid of love and yearning. Steve feels like his whole life has led up to this and in a way it had. He moves his hands down towards your waist and pulls you flush to his body. You let out a startled gasp, but continue to kiss him as passionately as before. Your hands are still gripping his shirt harshly, but he couldn’t care less. He never liked this shirt very much. You pull away a little to catch your breath. Your cheeks are flushed and lips are a little plumper and Steve can’t stop the pride from swelling in his chest at the thought that it’s his doing.

“I apologize. That wasn’t very lady like,” you tell him breathily, smoothing your hands over his shirt. He may or may not appreciate the way your hands linger over his chest for a few extra seconds.

Steve smiles and says, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t really care.” He reconnects your lips with the same vigor as when you initiated it.

The next morning, Steve wakes in his bed alone. He wanted to let you stay the night, but he knew the uproar that would be caused if your lady’s maid found an empty bed. Walking down to breakfast, Steve sees that you’ve made it down first and have already begun eating. Looking up from your eggs benedict, you give him a small, knowing smile which he returns. Luckily your father doesn’t notice anything as he continues to read the paper.

Steve takes his usual seat across you as a full plate is set in front of him. He starts to eat, occasionally sneaking glances toward you. He can’t get the image of your speckled pink cheeks and wet lips out of his mind and he hopes he never does.

With about two-thirds of his plate empty, Steve hears a sharp knock on the door, followed by the door opening. He can make out Jarvis ask, “Mr. Parker?” before he hears footsteps come toward them while Jarvis continues, “Sir, they are dining at the moment, if you would wait-” Before Jarvis could finish his statement, a young man enters the dining room. He looks to be about your age, maybe a bit younger. Judging by the instant joy on your face, you know him well.

You immediately stand up and exclaim, “Peter!” Your fork almost clattering on the ground in the process. You have no hesitation when you run over to the boy, whose arms are open and inviting. Steve watches as Peter wraps you in an embrace. Guiltily, he feels a pang of jealousy when he sees you in the young man’s arms, but forces the feeling away.

“Y/n, I’ve missed you!” Peter replies happily and releases you. Steve’s displeasure must be apparent because he catches Anthony smirking beside him.

“I’ve missed you, too. When did you come in? How is Cambridge?” you ask excitedly. Your giddiness is apparent as you fire questions at Peter, but the boy doesn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, I’ve missed you too! I took the first train from Cambridge the moment break started,” Peter rambles happily, “As for school, it’s truly amazing, y/n. The classes are rigorous and I’ve met the smartest men.”

“None smarter than me, I hope.” you jest, and Peter laughs along. The two of you seem really close. Steve can’t help but wonder if there’s more beneath the surface. You said that no man was courting you, but maybe it’s because you were waiting.

“Of course not. I’ll never meet a person with more wit than you.” Peter compliments. Anthony clears his throat behind you and Peter turns to his mentor.

“Oh, except you, Mister Stark.” he tries to recover, but Anthony doesn’t buy it. Nonetheless, he hugs the boy reservedly, a stark contrast to your embrace. Steve, who only stood up out of courtesy, feels like a stranger witnessing a family reunion until the boy turns to him.

“Captain Rogers!” Peter exclaims, quickly walking over to Steve. He grasps his hand and gushes, “I am a huge admirer. Your siege of Fort Beauregard is simply inspiring.” He’s shaking Steve’s hand wildly and if it weren’t for the underlying feeling of jealousy, he’d find it endearing.

“Why, thank you.” Steve replies curtly, causing your eyes to flicker over to him. You raise an eyebrow, seemingly suspicious to Steve’s behavior, but Peter doesn’t appear to notice.

“So, where are you staying?” Anthony asks. Peter releases Steve’s hand and turns to his mentor.

The boy’s face goes red and he stammers, “I-I thought I could stay here. I apologize for not writing ahead. My excitement got the better of me and I figured that a surprise would be enjoyable, but I see how this could be abrupt and uncalled for and I understand if you wish to have me leave, but my aunt-” He’s caught off by Anthony’s laugh.

“I only jest, Peter. I forget about your testy nerves. Of course, you may stay.” Anthony assures as Peter’s chest falls in relief.

“Shall I show him to his room?” Jarvis asks, standing at the doorway.

“No need, I’m finished with breakfast. I will do it. Come, Peter.” Anthony beckons the boy, who immediately deserts his position in front of Steve and goes to the older man’s side in a matter of seconds. They leave and Jarvis follows behind them.

“You can stop clenching the tablecloth, Captain. Peter left.” you joke, turning your attention to Steve. He looks down at his hands and sees the white fabric bunched between his fingers.

“I wasn’t.” Steve responds meekly, sitting back down. Scraping his plate, he clears his throat and says, “So, um, Peter is a nice fellow.” You burst out laughing and walk over to Steve.

“Are you jealous?” you ask teasingly. Steve rolls his eyes to contain his annoyance at how right you are.

“No, I’m just curious about your relationship with him.” Steve says. It’s quite obvious that he’s full of it, but you have mercy on him and avoid further teasing.

“He was my best friend in the village. When father found me, I convinced him to help Peter with his education. He’s quite bright, but sometimes acts like a total dolt.” you explain. Steve eases a little at your explanation.

“So, you’ve never considered courting him?” Steve asks sheepishly and you laugh again.

“No, of course not! Besides, he’s engaged to Miss Jones.” you tell him. Steve fully relaxes into his seat. “Also...” you start, taking the seat next to Steve and turning to face him. “A different man has stolen my heart.”

“Oh, and who must that be?” Steve plays along.

“His name is Captain America,” you tell him and Steve gives you a pointed look, which you ignore. “He’s strong, smart, funny.”

“Is he handsome?” Steve turns slightly so that he can face you head-on.

“Devastatingly so,” you reply. Steve takes a quick glance around the room to see if you’re really alone before capturing your lips with his. The kiss is brief and sweet, unlike last night’s passionate affair, but it still affects his heart the same.

It’s a lazy day spent under the large oak tree. At mid-day, the weather has decided to give its mercy, holding back its usual treacherous winds and low temperatures that accompany spring.

Your head is resting on Steve’s lap as you read, your knees propped up and your book resting on your royal blue skirt. Steve strokes your hair gently, occasionally brushing over the loosely tied indigo ribbon. His navy jacket is discarded a few feet away from him and his white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

The two of you have announced your courtship to the family last week, although it has felt it’s gone on since Steve first arrived. You’ve stolen his heart, whether you intended to or not. Steve never thought he could be so smitten with a person, but how could he not be. Your charm and beauty grow tenfold every time he’s with you. And now that he knows you share the feeling, he has no hesitations in the showing of his affections.

“Come to America with me.” Steve says, speaking for the first time in a half-hour.

“Pardon?” you ask as if you can’t believe the words he just uttered. You sit up and face Steve. Closing your book, you move your full attention to him.

“Come to America.” Steve repeats. “I have some business I have to attend to and you’ve always said you wanted to go.”

“Yes, but Steve. What would people say if an unmarried man and woman went away together?” you ask, not caring yourself but knowing the weight of everyone’s judgment would be too great to bear.

“But we wouldn’t have to worry about that. Y/n, I have loved you since the moment we met and it would be an honor if you made me your husband.” Your jaw looks like it’s about to approach the floor, so he continues.

“We could build a house on the plot of land down the road so you can still be by Morgan. It would not be as extravagant as this, but it would be enough.” Steve finishes hurriedly. You’re still silently gawking and Steve’s heart starts to rise anxiously. “My dear, please say something so I don’t think I’ve gone mad.”

“Oh Steve, I’d love to!” you exclaim, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him against your body. With your face buried in his neck, you confess, “You have brought me more joy in these past months than in all my years.”

Steve moves away to face you. The smile on your face is unmatched and his heart soars at the idea that you will be his forever. “I love you, my dear.”

You lean closer so that your foreheads are touching. Whispering against his lips, you retort, “I love you the most.” Before Steve could protest, he feels you grab his neck lightly and press your lips against his. Steve cups your cheek gently as he kisses you back. The taste of herbal tea and the smell of your perfume invades his senses. He’ll never get sick of kissing you.

The two of you go inside and announce your engagement to the family. The celebration dominates the rest of the day and unbeknownst to Steve, his dark blue jacket still lays beneath the oak tree and it was never seen again.

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction

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the-werdna · 3 years

Link

Title: Robcina Week Day 3 - Free Day

Description: Just another day after school. No new incidents in the outrealms. No upcoming exams. Perhaps the perfect day to spend some time with Lucina. She had mentioned something about wanting to go shopping. What was the worst that could happen?

Notes: Once again we delve into my Awakening Persona AU, because no one can stop me! Takes place prior to Chapters 41, 47, and 61 of Love Across Time, which are likewise set in this AU

Words: 2099

A shrill bell chimed, announcing the end of the school day.

Robin quickly scratched down the last few characters he'd been copying from the board into his notebook before standing. The notebook, his pens, pencils, and other school supplies were swiftly shunted into his open backpack a moment later. That settled, he stepped out into the hallways, blinking against the afternoon light streaming through the windows of the hallway,

Right, now I just need to decide how to spend the rest of the day, Robin thought to himself.

He had several options after all. Since it was a Tuesday, the sports club wouldn't be meeting, so that wasn't an option. He did still have the writing club he could attend or perhaps one of his part time jobs he could always attend. Studying in the library was always an option, though by this point he wasn't sure it could offer much improvement anymore, having scored top of his class the past two exams.

Perhaps now would be a good time to work on one of my "social links", Robin pondered. He sighed. He really did hate that term, at least when referring to time he spent with the many friends he'd made since coming to the town. The way Igor referred to them, as if they were simply a means as a wild card user to empower his Personas… it felt too clinical to him. Too impersonal.

That said, since Kendo club won't be meeting today either, Lucina should be free, Robin realized. She did mention something about wanting my help picking some stuff out next time she went shopping.

Making up his mind, Robin made for the front door, swapping out his school shoes for his usual pair before heading outside. Looping around to the back of the school, he found Lucina right where he expected her to be, seated on one of the benches that overlooked the plot of land maintained by the gardening club. Though not a member of the club herself, he knew that Lucina still enjoyed the peaceful spot near the flowers. Though summer was almost over and soon the garden would be empty. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd still come to the spot then.

Lucina didn't notice him at first, her gaze on the butterflies fluttering between the flowers. Only when he was a few steps away did she look up, turning to him. "Oh… Hello, Robin" Lucina greeted, standing.

"I was wondering if you would be free to hang out?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yes, of course. Actually, I was thinking of stopping by a store on my way home. Would you like to come? Of course, only if you are interested."

"Lucina has asked to spend time with you…"

"Since you have Lachesis, a Persona of the Fortune Arcana, you feel you could be closer…"

"Will you spend the afternoon with Lucina?"

"I'd be happy to. You did mention you wanted my input on some things, right?" Robin asked.

Lucina looked happy at this, nodding fiercely. "Yes, of course! Come, let us hurry then before they close!"

. . . . .

Making their way to the clothing store, the two quickly set about browsing through the racks, Robin letting Lucina take the lead.

"What do you think about these," Lucina asked, producing a skirt and blouse she'd picked.

"Well it's… certainly very you, Lucina," he said, trying to speak as politely as he could.

In truth even a fashion novice such as himself could tell the two pieces didn't remotely go together. The blouse, yellow with red polka dots, and the skirt, green and purple stripes, clashed immensely. Nor was it helped that both were possibly the brightest and most saturated pieces of clothing in the entire store, so much that they practically glowed.

"Hmmm, I suppose. Though perhaps…" setting the outfit aside, Lucina reached for another shirt. Then a jacket, and then a set of pants. "What about these?"

The pants were bright orange. The shirt was lime green with pink flowers. And the jacket was sky blue with neon yellow stripes down the arms. It honestly wasn't much better.

Robin opened his mouth to try and tell her the truth, only to stop as his gaze fell on Lucina's face. She was smiling brightly, looking happier than he'd ever seen her. Her eyes sparkled with radiant joy, her smile one of almost childlike glee. In that moment Robin knew he couldn't be the one to take that away from her.

"I think it's perfect," he told her. Somehow he even meant it, as even as he imagined her in his mind's eye wearing the garish ensemble it somehow looked great on her.

"Thank you! I'm so glad," Lucina told him, draping the clothes over an arm. "To tell the truth, I haven't been shopping for clothes like this since I was little. My mother used to take me all the time back then…" There was a brief moment where her smile faltered at the mention of her mother, but it quickly recovered. So complete was her happiness in that moment, even that memory couldn't steal it from her.

Returning the first outfit to the rack, Lucina stepped back, again looking at the clothes she picked out. "I wonder if I can find anything else that will go well with this? No, it's fine on its own. I just know it will look great with what I already own," she touched the red and blue striped scarf she alway wore. "So shall we go to the register then? There is still time before I must run off to work, and I'd like to go check one more place before-"

Lucina stopped at the sound of harsh laughter coming from nearby. There, several racks over were three girls Robin recognized from school though he did not know their names. Though he thought they were third years like Lucina.

One of the girls shielded her mouth behind her hand, whispering something to the girls. While he couldn't make out what was said, the smug way she regarded Lucina and the outfit held in her hands made it plain enough exactly what was the subject of her scorn. Snickering giggles from the other girls soon followed, taking shared amusement at whatever remark had been made at Lucina's expense.

At once Lucina's eyes seemed to glaze over slightly, growing distant as she returned the clothes to the rack. While her expression remained stoic, Robin could tell just how saddened she was.

Anger flashing, Robin turned, starting towards the girls, fully prepared to give them a piece of his mind. However before he could move more than a couple steps he was stopped by Lucina, blocking him with an outstretched hand.

"It's alright, Robin. They're not worth your time," Lucina assured him. While he caught a brief flash of appreciation in her eyes, evidently touched that he'd so quickly jump to her defense, the sadness in her voice remained.

Robin turned and watched as the girls departed the store, leaving the two of them alone.

"Why did you stop me? Their behavior was uncalled for," Robin asked.

"It's nothing I am not used to," Lucina told him solemnly. "As long as I can remember, I have often been a source of mockery among my peers. On account of how ill-adept I am when it comes to more… feminine interests, such as these. As well as my other oddities..."

Robin knew exactly what she was referring to. Lucina's mother had died of illness when she was very little, and with her father's time so often occupied with work, it had fallen to Lucina to take over much of the raising of her younger sister. Combine that with working several part time jobs to supplement their family's income taking what was left of her time, Lucina simply hadn't had time to live a normal childhood and be like other girls her age.

She looked back at the abandoned outfit and sighed. "To be entirely honest, I had hoped this would be an opportunity to learn, but I suppose it was not to be…"

Reaching out, Robin picked up the clothes from the rack, handing them back to her. When she looked at him in surprise, Robin explained, "the Lucina i know would never give up so easily. No matter what others may say."

"Robin..." Lucina trailed off, hesitantly accepting the clothes from him. Briefly their hands touched, and both of them pulled away at the contact, blushing.

"Erm, right…" Lucina turned away quickly, trying to hide her reaction. "I thank you for your kind words. Truly." She glanced back up and him sheepishly, before quickly looking down at her feet, embarrassed….

"You feel your relationship with Lucina has grown deeper…"

"The Lucina Social Link has reached level 6!"

"Your power to Create Personas of the Fortune Arcana has grown!"

"Lucina's growth of heart has affected her Persona as well…"

"Sigurd learned Light Amp!"

"Still…" Lucina at last managed to look up, glancing between him and the mismatched outfit. "Are you certain this won't seem odd for me to wear?"

Robin considered this question for a long moment. At first he considered telling her it would likely draw mockery from people like those girls, but he quickly shoved that thought aside. He remembered how happy Lucina looked before and so he made up his mind. "It doesn't matter if others think it does or not. I just know you'll look beautiful in anything you pick out."

Lucina spun back to face him, her face turning an even brighter shade of pink at his remark. "I… uh…" she stammered staring at him.

At once Robin cursed himself. Why had he said that last part? Stupid, stupid, stupid. It had just slipped out. He hadn't-

No, he told himself. That was a lie. He'd meant it, even if he hadn't intended to say it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Robin tried to say. Liar. You meant it.

"N-No, it's quite alright. Lucina glanced up at the clock on the wall of the store, seeing the time.

"I'm sorry Robin, but I need to go. My shift starts soon," she excused herself, referring to one of her night jobs as a waitress. "I'll go check out. There is no need to wait around for me"

Not even waiting for a reply, Lucina started towards the register, only to then stop, looking back. "Oh, and Robin?" she asked, her words halting and awkward. "What you said means a lot, truly. So, thank you." She bowed her head and then hurried away.

Robin watched on for a moment, then departed the store, feeling thoroughly foolish and embarrassed by what he'd said. He decided to head home for the evening.

. . . . .

Laying down on the couch in his room, Robin flipped the page through the book he was reading. At the rate he was going, he likely wouldn't finish it that evening. It will take one more night still, he thought.

He sighed, letting the open book fall over his face, covering it. He still couldn't stop thinking about earlier… about what he'd said.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he scolded himself. Even if he'd been telling the truth, some things were better left unsaid. Even though Lucina had tried to brush it off, he was certain there would now be some new uneasiness between them. How could it not? He was living in the same house as her, and her father was his guardian for the year. Revealing how he felt, even so indirectly, could only make things more awkward…

His phone vibrated once, buzzing on the coffee-table. Lifting the book from his face, he glanced over, seeing the blinking light indicating a new message. He reached for it, then hesitated. Working up all of his considerable courage, he snatched it up and swiped the screen.

It was a message from Lucina.

"ROBIN. THANK YOU FOR SPENDING TIME WITH ME TODAY. I WOULD LOVE TO DO IT AGAIN WHEN NEXT YOU HAVE TIME."

Robin starred, rereading the message again and again, certain he'd understood it incorrectly.

She… wants to spend more time with me?! Even after I… He shook his head, unable to comprehend what was going on. Could she possibly feel like- No, that would be silly. She just wants to keep spending time as friends? Right? That's it. Unless- No, stop! Bad Robin!

Robin groaned, tossing his phone aside and again hiding his face in the book. Dammnit, this just makes things even more confusing...

He decided to stop reading and go to bed for the night.

#Robcina-Week #Robin x Lucina #Robcina #Robin #Lucina #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Awakening #Persona AU

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carrera-ffxiv · 3 years

Text

Eyes Wide Open

Dawn hummed and swayed from side to side in his wake. He glanced over his right shoulder, “You seem to be in good spirits. Hope the aetheryte travel wasn’t too taxing.”

She shook her head softly with a scrunched face and tried to fight the smile that grew at her features, but it bled through. She couldn’t seem to contain it, “Mmn, I’m okay. How are you? I didn’t expect you of all people to drag me out of the clinic. The smell of the ocean is nice...” she listened to the waves ebb and flow along the beach, the sand giving way to her steps. The whole experience was nostalgic: the smell of sea salt along with the cool ocean breeze reminded her of Limsa Lominsa.

He stopped along the way and looked out to the water, hands in his pockets. “How’s your eye? Look out there,” he pointed a moment, “What do you see?”

She paused, “Mn… I can see some things. Sometimes. I can see life. Aether. The little fishies out in the distance, the birds flying overhead. The little sea cucumbers and seaweed, and corals. So many corals. Little shimmers of brilliant light floating in the water, a million little lights, it’s beautiful.”

An unimpressed huff came, “Hmph. Not enough. Does it still hurt? What colors do you see?”

She furrowed her brows a bit, feeling judged and apparently not up to par, “It’s… a bit sore, I feel a bit of a dull ache. Oh, uhm… everything’s bits of… blue?”

“You must be healing still. You should be able to see far more than that. You should be able to see elemental aspects of aether, different colors, and more than a few sporadic creatures. Concentrate on mending your eye whenever you get the chance; as in actively engage in healing it at all times, even now while we’re out for a walk. Even while you’re working or lounging at home, make an effort to weave mana and regenerate that connection.” he sighed, looking out to the glimmering sunlight reflecting from the water.

She felt chided somehow, like a child; she wasn’t enough as it was. Hadriel had a way of sounding critical whenever he spoke, even when he was trying to be helpful. “Over here.” he led her up stone stairs right along the beach. She did as he bid her and kept at yet another complex task of managing passive mana expense.

Dawn quickly realized that she hadn’t done that a great job reconnecting her new nerve endings in the first place. She felt a sharp tingling as a million tiny blue lights became a billion, and then a trillion. More detail returned to the world as the seconds passed, and at least through her left eye, she could see the hidden aether along the earth; she saw the tiny blue lights hidden within the sand, stone, and wood. Instead of little lights within the darkness, it was like a whole canvas had lit up. He pivoted after a few steps and she looked up to see a manor the size of the Company estate was before her, right on the beachfront of Shirogane.

“Uhm… where are we?” she hesitated and he answered. “It’s my house. Come.” she could see his form more clearly, reaching out with a hand as he beckoned her forward. “Oh. Well, then. This is nice.” she answered flatly.

Dawn was guided inside and led to his office on the ground floor. He closed the paper partition and moved his way over to the wall of books. Pulling on a series of them, another partition gave way to a hidden entrance; Dawn shifted her head, it seemed like a hallway had opened up in his office. Given the layout, she felt it was where the passageway to the estate rooms in the company would be. She tapped her cheek a moment; if Hadriel had a hand in both designs, it only made sense.

“Well?” he motioned for her to enter. She felt a bit worried as she thought about their last interaction in private, a nervous hum coming from her.

“Look, I’m not going to pluck your eye out or anything so just, come on.” he beckoned again. She took a hesitant step and let her feet do the leading. She felt nervous, a few steps and a turn brought them to a new room.

“So, I wanted to help you prevent anything like what happened to you in Bleakpoint from ever happening again. I want to teach you. Pick something. Whatever calls to you.” Her eyes shifted around and noticed an armory of aether-infused weapons. And books, many books. Everything here was hidden away from plain sight for some reason or another. There were small displays littered around with tiny artifacts and gems.

She shook her head softly, “Who said I wanted to learn how to use a weap-” she stopped; the pendant resting at her chest flared with heat. She silently wandered around the room drawn by an unseen force; a hand finding and resting on a gunblade. It was finely crafted, no doubt. Then a kodachi, a katana, a shortsword, a claymore, countless other blades bleeding out aether. It was almost a beautiful sight, if not for the fact that they were all weapons that were forged for one explicit purpose: death.

Her eyes settled on an elegant curved blade that shimmered brighter than the rest. It was similar to a katana, but perhaps too large and a bit unwieldy. Her grasp was drawn to it and she inspected it. It felt right- it felt like it belonged in her hands.

“Tsukiyo… I figured.” he sighed a bit with crossed arms as he watched Dawn look entranced at the blade she held in both hands. “It’s an odachi, an Eastern greatsword.”

“Where did it come from?” Dawn asked curiously.

“It’s a blade from a set I forged, three weapons altogether. Two of the three were katanas forged for my friends, Carrera and Adala. The blades were named Taiyogari and Tsukiyo, respectively. Their last sister is mine, Sakegari. Figures that you would be drawn to that blade. To hers.”

She ignored most of his expositional dialogue, “This was hers, Adala’s?” she continued admiring the blade with a touch, her right hand holding the hilt as her left ran along its blade. A saddened tone came from her forlorn demeanor, “This sword… my eye, this crystal, they all belonged to her, didn’t they? Why pieces of your friend? What happened to her?”

“I had her killed. So I could salvage her eye and soul crystal.” It sounded like it was just a simple conversation to him, as if he was listing what he had for breakfast that morning. “I had intended the crystal for my use, and the eye for you, but it seemed like you had the more pressing need.”

Dawn grit her teeth together. Her hand wrapped around the blade and began to bleed.

A hand rested along her shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze, “It’s alright. Take a breath. You don’t have any enemies here. What’s done is done.”

Blood flowed freely along the edge of the odachi as trembling hands tried to keep the blade steady. “Oh? You said she was your friend, though. Am I your friend, too?”

“... Yes, you’re my friend.” he answered coldly, knowing full well what she was getting at.

Dawn gushed in a distraught tone, “So, when you need the eye and stone back, I imagine I’ll be gone as well.”

“No. Those are yours to keep. My friends that I spoke of before had or, have, their days numbered, I only expedited her death because you, again, had the pressing need.” he sighed a bit, another squeeze came before he released and patted her head. “One by one, all our days are numbered. My wife, as lovely as she is, can be attached to things. Broken things, and people that might not benefit her. You’re one of those things. Still, I love her so. And so, I help you.”

“But…” Dawn piped up, concentrating, watching the blood dripping from her hand. “You, it wasn’t you. You’d think that it would be you, at least, to send off your friends. But you didn’t. You sent someone else.”

“I imagine that would upset her but I can’t show all my cards just yet. I think a part of her would understand that, and what I’m doing.” He spoke in almost a bitter whisper.

“So, you sent someone else…” she concentrated, her expression pained as she recalled the gunslinger that killed her previous iteration. She began to take in sharp breaths again and kneeled onto the cold marble floor, clearly on the path to something in between hyperventilation, an anxiety attack, and a nervous breakdown.

“Breathe,” he demanded of her, “Breathe and focus. You can do it. You’re in control, no one else.”

Over minutes, Dawn managed to breathe in and out slowly. Deep breaths. She rested the odachi carefully along the ground and focused on healing, bright white energy sparked from her hand as her flesh mended. “I... I’m not in control.” “… Adala. She’s here too. Right? She’s not happy. You had her killed. Nijah,” she looked distraught as he held onto her own wrist, watching a spark of light searing in her grasp. “You used Nijah to kill her, and now I see her; I see her in my dreams, beating me to death. Because, you thought it some measure of mercy to get your friends to kill each other on my behalf…”

“There’s more to it than that. It’s not all about you, Dawn. Stop sounding so ungrateful. The blade is yours, if you want it. And I’ll teach you how to use it, if you’d like.”

Her temper flared. Her hands shook and she tried to find some measure of control. Her fists tightened and her knuckles grew white from the sheer pressure.

G̷̲̀̑ŏ̴͔͈͔͂̐ŏ̷͇̺̏̀d̴͓͐́́ ̵̨͕̋̋L̶̖̞̙̿u̴̯͓͒̋͝ċ̴̫͉̂̈́k̸̖̘̞̇͝

G̶͔̬̳̱̻̳̠̔̈́ȯ̷̪̺̠̼̯̔͋̇͌͝ȏ̴̱͖̠̮̦̘̎̉͒d̶̲̺͚͍͛͗̿̎̕ ̵͖̣̺̰́́̿́͛͝L̶͓͎̖͍͐̈́̂͘͝ù̶̦̣̥̑͝c̶̣͒̎͂̃̎̓̍͠k̵̩̞̮̮̲͔̅ͅ

G̷̭͉͋̈́̔̆̂̾̒̈́ǫ̷̧̹͔̝͙͍͓̟̼̩͔̓̋̑̂̍̏͆͐̃̽̕͜͠͝͠ͅo̸͓̦̪̰̿̏̄̆d̸̗̟͖͍̳͍̯̭̺͇͎̈́͒̀́͆͆̍̚̚͝ ̴̧͍̠͇͍̘̱̞͕̳̮̀̂̌̚L̶̢̡̢̠͈͚̫̙̪̩͛̿̂̅̇̒̒͐͒͆u̸̡͚̲̩̼̫̯̬̙͙̘̱̟͊̅͗̐́̃͒̚̕͝c̴̢̱̠̟̤̰̀͒̓̆͊̍͗k̸̙̦̯̰̯̗͖̼̾̓̾̋͝

G̶̨̛̬̺̣͔̜͔̹̩̗̠̖̩͙͙͈̻͉̾̏̾̀̈̆́̓̕͝o̷̢̡̝͙̜͉͕̼͚͍̅̒͝ớ̴̞͍̈͛̆̈́̃̊̈́̊͆̐̂̿́̑̃͂̈́͒̀̿d̷̢̜̜̥̤̟̹̞̭̥͈̻̭̟̱̺͇̖̫̔̊͗͋̊̎̒̎̾͜͝͝ ̴̡̢̥͖̤̦̦̦̮͚͝Ḻ̴̛͚̪̱̪̳̦͍̪̦͙͖̫̩͈̜̩̇̋̌́̈́͋͛̾͜͝ų̷̧̨̡̛͕̲̳̼̝̝̪̜̦̳̯̜͖̻̹̖͕͋̀͗̈́̏̄̈̋̌͑̂c̸͓͛̎̈́̈́̄͂̔̚͘ͅķ̵͈͛̾̈́͐̀̔̕̕͝͝͝

Ģ̵̦͍̙̙̗͚̑̓̾̾͊̑̍͝ǒ̶̢̧̧̟̝̖̳͉̫̠̭̠͕̳̦̺̖͙̙͓̭̲͙̙̮̭̯̰̠̒̑̂̉́̈o̷̻͕͎̘̩͉͎̖̯͖̰̦̻̩̬͌̅̆̈͘d̶̢̢͖͚̪̞̫̖̠̖͇͚̝̪̳̭̮͚̦͓̙̲̥̞̳̀̆̀͋́̊́͑̀̒̍̊͗͐̕͜͜͝͝ ̴̡̧̨̢̢̺͎͔͙̯͙̟̹͕̱͔̞͚͓̺͈̩͈̪̲̘̤̣͈͎͚̹͛̏̋͛̾̂͐̇̆̈́̋̉́̓͑͐̊͊͐͐̉̒͐̚͜͜͜͝͝ͅL̸̢̧̨̧̡̛̛̛̩̹̱͙̹̣̘͎̯̪̟̤̣̣̤̥̯͇̼͍̈͋͊̒̀̎̒̌̔͑̎͛̇́̈́̈́̈́̔͛͌́̈́̏̚̕ǔ̵̧̢̦͔̟̻̺̳̮̳͉̹̖͚̥̺̼̖͓̤͉͎̖͓̩̜̳̗̪͕͕̂͆͂͑͗̅̽̋͠ͅc̴̢͚̙̤̙͙̞̮̥̠͈̗̘̙̠̞̫͈̦̤͔̱̳̘̪̬͆̓͐͜k̴̛̲̯̼̪̬͓̆̅̈́̌̂́̿̃̓́̀̑̊͗̕̚̕̚͝͝͝͠ͅ

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purplezebraproductions · 3 years

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The Alters: Chapter 4

The Alters is an original romance story I’ve been writing for the past year. Please enjoy Chapter 4!

The Quiet

CW: Discussions of war, mental illness, and death.

There was a wall, both a physical and non-physical, between all three men currently inhabiting The Infinity. For the past two days Creed had made himself scarce. Always in and out of any room just as the other two arrived. He was still hurting over something that the third man couldn’t understand. He knew Dinn and Creed had some fight, but neither was willing to say what it was about. Dinn had tried incessantly the first day to follow Creed and try to talk to him. But Creed never made any motion signifying that he was listening. He was acting very standoffish and distant from both men, which the stranger simply found unfair. He wanted to get to know this Creed better, and he was being ignored just because he shared the same face as someone who hurt him. Dinn was also partaking in the silent treatment with the stranger. He would refuse to leave the room if both men were present, and instead chose to sneer and glare at the stranger until the tension became too much and the men dispersed. How shameful. To be so angry at a man he doesn’t know.

But then again, the man doesn’t know Dinn either.

The stranger had started to become accustomed to the powers of The Infinity. Creating any entity he desired had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks. The first day the man found himself merely opening the fridge and grabbing any meal he could imagine that was hot and ready inside. But, without the time out of the day taken to prepare it he became bored quickly. He could read any book but was overwhelmed with choices and so chose not to. He could create any plant but found that the ones he made were not nearly as beautiful as the ones Creed left behind. Somehow, he made a plain white surface twirl so intricately. He found he could have anything he desired, but realized he truly didn’t desire much.

Well, all except for one thing.

The man stood at Creed’s door; clenching and unclenching his hands in order to steady his nerves. All he wanted to do was talk! There would be no physical contact, no deeply revealing stories, no atonement for sins long since past. He just wanted to talk. And so, he knocked and waited.

There was no movement. Not a single sound came from the other side of the door. Nothing to signify that Creed had even heard the knock, let alone that he was moving to open the door. Not so easily beaten he knocked again.

“You’re wasting your time.”

A sudden voice spoke up from behind the man. Turning around the man was none too pleased to find Dinn standing there with his arms crossed.

“He’s not going to answer.”

He said matter of factly. The man glowered.

“I just want to talk.”

He said through gritted teeth. Dinn chuckled.

“You sure you just don’t want to swoop in and be his hero?”

He mocked.

“Maybe, that’s what we should call you! Hero! So far up your own ass you can’t see that nobody wants you here!”

He said, his anger boiling to the surface. This Dinn was so easily angered, and the man couldn’t understand why. To be fair, Creed was easily distressed, but he chalked that up to some tragedy he must’ve faced. Nothing like what the man had gone through.

“Or maybe I’ll listen to Creed and just call you Fallen! A fallen hero, so mesmerized by his own rise to stardom he didn’t see how quickly his world abandoned him and couldn’t care less about where he went!”

Dinn was now almost giddy at his own words. His mockery reaching new heights that the man had not heard before. He scoffed.

“Does it make you happy to taunt me? Is that what little joy you can gleam from our situation?”

Dinn’s face almost instantly fell at the man’s backtalk. Immediately reverting back to his primal angry state.

“Maybe you should listen to Creed and learn something.”

The man said, careful as to not push this Dinn too far to where he’d retaliate in full force. Luckily Dinn simply shook his head and with a growl and a flicker of the lights, he stomped off in the other direction. He knew he had nothing to respond with. He knew nothing about this man and couldn’t read him the way Creed did. He was useless when it came to his emotions.

With a shaky breath the man resumed his position in front of the door. He didn’t need this Dinn distracting him from his ultimate mission; talking to Creed. With another calming breath he once again knocked on the door.

“Creed? It’s me, the…other Dinn.”

This time the man did hear something. A very slow shifting of cloth within the room. Was he leaving his bed? Or getting dressed? Or was that simply the sound of movement? With Creed’s heavy jacket that dragged on the floor he didn’t doubt the last one’s possibility. But as he stood there wondering, the handle to the door began to move.

The man hadn’t seen Creed clearly in a couple of days, but still he was shocked to see the man who stood before him looking more distressed than usual. He hadn’t been sleeping well, what with the bags underneath his eyes and his wrinkled clothes and messy hair.

Creed didn’t say anything when he opened the door, he simply looked up at the stranger as if willing him to say something first.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

Stupid, he knew, but it was less distressing than “what happened to you?!”

“What did he call you?”

Creed whispered. The man hadn’t been expecting Creed to talk so suddenly so he wasn’t prepared to listen. And with Creed only whispering his words he couldn’t tell what he said.

“Pardon?”

“What did he call you?”

He said a touch louder this time. The man thought for a second. Dinn had called him two things: “Hero” and “Fallen.” Both in a viciously mocking tone, but the man couldn’t say he was wholly against the nicknames entirely. He didn’t want to be forever known as a stranger or “the other Dinn.” Hero was much to on the nose for him. He didn’t consider himself a hero in the slightest. Quite the contrary, he was a failure. Failing to protect the people he loved or create a life for himself after tragedy. No, he was a fallen man, desperate to get back up.

“Fallen.”

He said. Creed eyed him up and down with a questioning gaze. One that almost unnerved the man.

“Do you like that name?”

He asked incredulously. The man thought for a moment. He supposed he didn’t mind the name, but to say he liked any name other than his own would be strange. He was Dinn, just not the right Dinn. He shrugged.

“I like it if you like it.”

He said trying to be as non-threatening as possible, however this had the opposite effect. Creed’s expression immediately soured, and he moved to slam the door in the stranger’s face. Quickly realizing his mistake the man quickly moved to block the door with his foot and hands.

“Wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!”

Creed had clearly already felt suffocated by the older man’s desire to please him, so of course he’d despise that response. How could he be so ignorant to that?

“I just meant that I don’t have a preference!”

Creed simply stared back at him with a challenging gaze.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. I do prefer my own name, but I know we can’t have two Dinn’s running around. That would just be confusing!”

The man said chuckling lightly to himself, just trying to lighten the mood. After a moment Creed sighed and resigned himself to open the door just a bit wider.

“Whatever.”

He said with a flippant wave of his hand as he walked back into his room. Fallen stood there for a moment, not knowing if this was an invitation or if Creed still expected him to leave. Cautiously he moved to step inside.

Creed’s room was rather odd. It was just as barren as all the rest, but the walls were drastically different. There were small divets and creases pressed into the wall as if it was some sort of stencil. Small bits jutted outwards as if they were coming towards you. The whole room felt dizzying, as if the walls were constantly moving and shifting while staying completely still. Still, Fallen persevered.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

Creed’s voice took Fallen out of his thoughts. He sat casually at the head of his bed with his feet crossed in front of him. Fallen stepped closer, hesitating when faced with the fact that there was nowhere else to sit. With a bit of hesitation, he sat at the end of the bed, and luckily Creed made no motion of wanting him to leave.

“Not really, I just wanted to talk.”

He said, hands in the air as if surrendering.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

Fallen asked a bit cheerier. He really just wanted to get to know this Creed, even if it would take him a year. However, Creed faltered at Fallen’s words. His mouth open and closed as if he wanted respond but didn’t know how. Did he just not know where to start, or did he not trust Fallen with his life? Either way, maybe it’s best if Fallen started first. With a deep breath Fallen began.

“I actually used to live in a small cottage if you could believe it. It was always nice and quiet, though not as quiet as this place.”

Fallen said gesturing broadly.

“You used to?”

There it was! So, this Creed felt more at ease pushing others to talk about themselves but faltered when the tables were turned. Fallen smiled at his discovery.

“Yeah, I guess after…my Creed passed…it just didn’t feel right.”

It was the truth, but God was it still so hard to talk about.

“I suppose the quiet would be too much to bear after that…”

Creed responded solemnly.

“Do you live in the city too?”

“Heavens no!”

Creed immediately snapped up at the question, as if the thought of him living in the city was so grossly absurd to him. Fallen liked this more open Creed; but unfortunately, as soon as he appeared, he vanished. Almost embarrassed by his outburst Creed once again sunk back into himself and spoke quietly.

“It’s far too loud and busy for me. I prefer the quiet.”

Saddened by the departure of Creed’s openness, Fallen was determined to bring him back.

“Somehow I think that fits.”

An awkward silence followed. Both men felt like they wanted to continue the conversation, but just didn’t know where to go from here. With a slight clearing of his throat Fallen chose to continue, as much of a failure as small talk may be.

“Question. Do you have these things known as Malmals in your world?”

Creed eyed Fallen oddly, his face blanketed by confusion. Fallen had to chuckle at it.

“Pardon?”

“Malmals! Y’know those round little chocolate malt balls that come in those clear plastic bags!”

Creed still eyed the man warily, and while shaking his head, he responded.

“You mean Maltzens?”

Fallen laughed.

“So, we do come from alternate worlds! They’re similar just a little…off”

Fallen emphasized his statement by crossing his eyes and shaking his head, as if the thought of the different yet similar worlds was just something to laugh about. Creed still looked at him with wide-eyed confusion, as if he couldn’t imagine just having a normal conversation with someone. As if everything he spoke about in The Infinity needed to be deeply troubling. But, finally, with an astonished gasp, Creed began to chuckle lightly.

“You do not call them Malmals! It sounds like you’re talking to your mother!”

His laugh, though small, sounded easy but strange. It was not his Creed’s laugh, but it was similar if a bit foreign. He was quiet. Much quieter than his Creed. Still, Fallen chose to laugh alongside the thinner man, happy to have finally broken through an albeit small opening.

“Swear! But if you called your mother Malmal in my world, you’d be slapped upside the head!”

“Really? I thought mothers would like being referred to by something sweet. It’s not like you called her a Prunnie.”

“What the fuck are those?”

“Dried dates.”

At this Fallen roared with laughter at the thought of anyone calling his mother after an old wrinkled dried fruit. That woman was 200 lbs. of brawn, and she wouldn’t let you forget it.

“Your head would be speared on a pike and put in the garden for decoration!”

Both men took a moment to laugh at the rather visceral image, but soon things began to quiet down again, and this time Creed broke the silence.

“How is your family? Do they know you’re here?”

With that their moods settled into something a bit more serious, but lighter than their former grief.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s not that Fallen didn’t want to talk about his family, it’s that he wondered if he still had one. Especially after the stunts he pulled. To his surprise Creed merely shook his head.

“Don’t got one.”

“You don’t have a family?”

Fallen was bewildered at the thought. Everyone had a family! Even if they were now estranged everyone had to have had a mother and father, right? Creed shook his head again.

“Nope. Got drafted right out of the orphanage. I didn’t mind, it’s not like anyone was waiting for me. I guess you could say the soldiers were more my family than anyone, even if I don’t remember some of their names.”

Fallen was flabbergasted. Out of all the things he could imagine about Creed’s life, this was not one of them.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Creed looked up at Fallen, his face neutral.

“Why? It’s not like it means much to me to have a family.”

“But surely you miss that connection?”

Creed shook his head.

“Can’t really miss what you’ve never had.”

Fallen studied Creed for a moment, as if he was looking for evidence of a lie. Evidence that Creed was actually burdened by the loss of a family and just didn’t want to speak about it. But to his surprise he found nothing. The absence of a family seemed to be something that Creed was at peace with. Above all else, his ex, the war, his fallen comrades, it was the lack of a family that Creed had no trouble with. Internally Fallen smiled at the thought. Something he found devastating was like nothing to Creed, and he was happy that the other man wasn’t burdened with such a loss.

“My family was a wild bunch. It was just me, my mom, my two sisters, and my one brother. I don’t think we ever stopped annoying each other, even as adults.”

Creed chuckled.

“Surely you must grow out of that eventually, right?”

Fallen laughed heartily at the confused man.

“No, you just kinda find new ways to get on each other’s nerves!”

Both men laughed as Fallen spoke of his siblings.

“But, as angry as you are with each other, if they need you, you stay with them.”

Fallen had meant this in a light jest, but he still felt troubled. It was true that his family had been there for each other for a long time, but in recent years those ties had weakened considerably. Looking back at Creed Fallen could see that his change did not go unnoticed by the other man. He honestly didn’t expect it to, seeing as how this Creed had shown how emotionally aware he was of others. Would he dare to ask more?

“Tanin and I were like that sometimes—Tanin is another soldier I shared a bunk with.”

So, he wouldn’t ask further? So, if Fallen didn’t present the information himself, he’d never know.

The two men sat there for what could’ve been hours. Chatting casually about everything and nothing. Finding little discrepancies in each of their worlds and shockingly some small similarities. Fallen had come here in an effort to get to know the other man, trying to convince himself that this Creed meant nothing to him. Nothing more than a man meant to lead him to his “one true love.” But the more they spoke, the farther he fell.

And falling was the only thing he knew how to do.

_______________________________________________________________

It had been a while since Creed allowed himself a bit of respite in the kitchen. He found preparing food a bit relaxing rather than just eating it. He’d just been taking prepared food to his room for the past few days in an effort to keep hidden from the others. He knew he could just wish for food in his room, but something about the thought of that churned his stomach. As if doing so would solidify the fact that he’s becoming too comfortable in The Infinity. So there he stood at the kitchen counter, chopping away at a few vegetables, and relishing in the silence it brought.

However, just a moment later Creed heard some footsteps approaching from behind him. He didn’t know if it was Fallen or Dinn as he refused to tear his eyes away from his work. If it was Fallen, he may just grab something from the fridge and leave or start up a basic conversation. But if it was Dinn…well he was unsure of what Dinn would do. Creed heard the fridge open and close so he thought it just might be Fallen appearing for a quick bite. But then a tray of potatoes and a peeler were placed next to him on the counter and looking over he could see that it was in fact, Dinn.

Creed steadied his nerves for the onslaught of meaningless words that was about to come. But, surprisingly, Dinn was mercifully quiet. For a minute he just stood there peeling potatoes as if Creed wasn’t standing next to him at all. Creed could tell he was gearing up to say something, but he wasn’t sure what. Perhaps he chose potatoes because they took a while to prep, and he needed time to think. Creed liked the thought of that more than the bombardment he’d been faced with in the day’s past.

And then Dinn broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.”

He’d already said this numerous times before and Creed just didn’t know if he meant what he said, or if he just thought it was the “right” thing to do after an argument. Still, Dinn continued.

“I’m sorry, for what I said…. That I said…you deserved to die…. I didn’t mean…I would…never…”

Dinn was speaking painfully slowly. Trying to choose his words carefully in an effort to just say what he meant rather than go around in circles with his thoughts. At the very least he finally acknowledged what he’d said that upset Creed. He supposed that was a step in the right direction.

“Fuck.”

Dinn sighed heavily.

“I would like to say I’d never say something like that, but I did. But I didn’t mean it! At least…I don’t think you deserved to die…I only said it to hurt you at the time…. Which is no better I know…in fact it may just be worse…”

Dinn quietly cursed at himself again. He was still talking in circles, but now at least he was getting to the roots of his thoughts.

Creed knew Dinn was never great at communication, and his anger problems simply bolstered that, but there was something else about him that Creed couldn’t shake. And it might be that Dinn just didn’t want to admit he could do terrible things. Every apology he put forth was counteracted with “but I didn’t mean it,” “it’s not a big deal,” “I’m not that kind of person,” etc. Creed used to think these were substantial apologies, but not anymore.

“Dinn.”

Dinn immediately stopped peeling and looked up at Creed. It seemed, at least, if he was willing to talk Dinn would listen.

“What you said to me was bad…it is bad.”

It was Creed’s turn to choose his words carefully. He didn’t want to explode with emotion and potentially cause another fight. He just needed Dinn to know exactly how what he did affected him.

“It hurt me in the worse way possible…because…back just after Donyun…. passed, you left me.”

Creed found it difficult to speak his fallen friends name, but he needed to say what was on his mind. He needed Dinn to know the turmoil that went through him in the past few days.

“You left me surrounded by men who were sure that I was a traitor…without a word you just abandoned me in that camp…I never knew how you felt about what happened. If you were…if you believed me or not…. So, when you said that during our argument…it confirmed in my mind that you had branded me as a traitor. Just as everyone else did…And that confirmation was too much for me to handle.”

Creed felt as if his mouth had gone completely dry, his tongue turned to lead, and he almost felt a bit dizzy. He needed to speak his thoughts clearly for Dinn to understand. However, admitting to not only the past few days, but so many years of turmoil and doubt about whether or not Dinn had despised him for what happened was devastating in his mind. He’d harbored so much fear, guilt, and doubt over what Dinn’s thoughts were about the massacre for years, and now it was all out in the open. He felt vulnerable for the first time in a long time, and the feeling was nauseating.

Dinn seemed to take a moment before responding.

“Creed, back then, I didn’t know what to think. Not because of you, but because of the other guys. They were so intent on their own thoughts and feelings that I couldn’t even get a word in edgewise. After losing so many men, everyone was devastated. And a lot of the devastation just turned into anger. And I…I…did leave you, because I just couldn’t come to terms with my own feelings.”

With a bitter chuckle he continued.

“Saying it now, I can see how fucked up that is. I left you because of my own comfort…I didn’t consider yours.”

The two men finally looked over at each other, Dinn sincere but Creed shocked. Creed had never heard Dinn speak so openly, let alone that he admitted he did something wrong. Something he couldn’t make excuses for.

“I’m sorry.”

In the midst of a tense moment Creed chose to laugh. He’d been pinning Dinn as the one who was terrible at communication, and he was, but that didn’t mean Creed was better by proxy. He too was so concerned for his own comfort that he refused to talk about any events where he felt wronged by Dinn. So, he laughed.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I can’t say I suddenly know how to feel about our situation, but thank you for your apology.”

There was a relative quiet after the two men spoke, but unlike last time, there was no oppressive tension in the air. Having spoken about their grief, their shame, made both men a little bit lighter. Sure, there would have to be more to talk about if they were to continue living like this in The Infinity; but for the time being they relished in the initial weight being lifted from their shoulders.

_______________________________________________________________

Fallen had been watching the two men from just beyond the doorway to the kitchen. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he just needed to know. He needed to know what their fight was about, what they’d said, what they’d done! He couldn’t bear being left out when there were only three of them present. It would drive him mad knowing that the only two other people in his world were hiding secrets from him. But upon hearing their apologies he was even more confused!

What was this about the other soldiers? Abandonment? Had Dinn really told Creed he should die? And how could Creed just shrug it off the way he did?

From their last talk Fallen had begun to think that him and Creed started knowing each other a bit better. At least, on a more personal level as opposed to what they had before. He’d been told stories of old friends. The ridiculous things they used to do when they weren’t on duty. His desire to see a new world bloom from the ashes of the old. And in turn he’d told Creed so much about his family. About the way his brother became some sort of vegetable growing prodigy. How his sisters were the ones who insisted he start dating shortly after his first job. How his mother was a tornado of a woman that no one could talk back to. But hearing all this about the two men’s past solidified how much he still needed to understand.

And he will understand!

He already devoted his time here to helping Creed be happy again and to do that he needed to know what was holding him back. What was it that was causing him so much pain? So, even if he had to sneak around to find out those secrets, he would.

And as much as he already didn’t like Dinn, he was pleased to see at least one thing that Dinn said made Creed happy. If only for a brief moment. Seeing that face alight, even if it was with a bitter laugh was something he could get used to. It was nothing like the harmonious tune of his laugh when they were joking, but it would do just fine.

Stepping away from the two as they fell into a more peaceful silence, Fallen thought back to his late partner. His Creed. Looking at this Creed, he did feel a growing attraction and chemistry between them, but he would forever be known as “this Creed.” His Creed, the one he lost all those years ago because of some illness that ravaged their small town, would always be his true love. He didn’t know if he could ever let that go, or if he even wanted to. He wanted to feel love again, but he needed whoever he loved to be fine with his grief over his Creed. That was only fair, right? He didn’t ask to be thrown into this world and told to look for a new partner. If it was up to him, he’d still be home in a drunken stupor waiting for the day he’d get to see his Creed again. Hopeful that they’d find happiness in some beautiful afterlife together.

Back home, where he was so ungodly bitterly alone.

#The Alters: Original story #original story #writing #writer #writers on tumblr #writblr #oc #original characters #chapter 4

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years

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Bucky Barnes (Supermarket)

Characters: Bucky Barnes x You

Summary: You went shopping with Bucky, and he decided that he needed to go to the bathroom until you got lost and distracted from your list. Bucky was left pouting all the way home.

Warning: JUST DAMN FLOOFYNESS and cute Bucky! I'm a sucker for fluffs and soft Buckbuck! 😍💕

Words: 2,619. It's quite long. 😉

A/N: FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! (POSTED THIS IN MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT ALREADY! :3)

Disclaimer: Pictures used are not mine. Only the edits are and the oneshot of course. 😊

"You still not done yet, doll?" Bucky announced for the 107th time. He was like that donkey in Shrek that kept on trying to annoy you.

Y/N and Bucky had gone shopping for their apartment. She thinks that Bucky's apartment needed more furniture especially that she was finally living with him. Y/N wanted a dash of homey features, and not a bachelor pad that seemed dull and plain. Bucky didn't like the idea at first, but he was left with no choice when she woke him up early and promised lots of cuddles and kisses in return, to which he quickly agreed to without any second thought.

"I think we need some more flowers, I think white tulips should do! It'll be perfect! Oh, and those too!" Y/N pointed at a set of flowers in a plain, elongated sky blue vase. Bucky was feeling the urge to pee since a while ago, he thought they were about to finish their to-buy-list, however Y/N ought to buy more things that weren't listed on their notepad.

Bucky observed both of his gloved hands in front of him, hesitating what to use in grabbing you. Despite of how comfortable he was with you, Bucky was still being cautious about his metal arm. You've talked to him about it a lot, yet he still wouldn't budge at certain times.

Your giant plum bear apprehensively took his lip in between his teeth. His dazzling blue eyes fully taking you in, emitting a glint of sparkle deep within. He languidly clasped his gloved metal hand on your arm, before it soothingly traveled down your elbow.

You quickly shut your mouth when you felt the hairs on your back stood up from his touch. His touches still gives you the goosebumps, and it was the good, satisfying types of goosebumps. Definitely not the bad ones. "Y-Yeah?"

Bucky couldn't help but give a small smile, he felt it. He knew how his touches can affect you that badly, and being the cocky man he is, his hand that was once clasped around your arm was now on your hip, his thumb caressing your pelvic bone in tenderness. "I need to use the restroom, doll. Can you wait for me?"

You scoffed, and felt his breathing hit your ear. "No, I'm going to leave you here and go straight home, Barnes." Bucky was quick to huff out his breath like a child. "Come on, doll..This supermarket is like a maze, this is my first time here in about 70 years. I wouldn't get to find you that easily,"

With a grin, you reached for his metal gloved hand resting on your hip, giving it a gentle pat to assure him that it was okay. "I was kidding, Buck. You go do your thing while I continue shopping. I'm just one call away, remember? Still not used to your Iphone?"

You felt him go closer, and before you know it. Bucky's chin was now on your shoulder, nuzzling his face in your hair. A sigh escaped your lips when you realized you just washed your hair this morning, so it obviously smelt like fragrant aloe/coconut/lavender. Yes. "I would never get used to it. The damn thing makes me frustrated."

"Yeah, Tony told me you've broken more than what a normal person can break a phone," A set of yellow, fake daffodils that was placed high above you on a display shelf caught your eye. Y/N can't help but tiptoe her way towards it. The white, plain, oblong shaped vase slightly tapping the tips of her fingers. She couldn't reach it, and so Bucky being the gentleman he is, did it for her like it was habit to help his girlfriend all the time. "Told you to stick to android phones instead, Buck. It's less complicated."

Bucky inspected the flowers in his hand, slightly nodding to himself. He approved the flowers, it looked beautiful and perfect just like you.

He turned away, leaning down to gently place the vase in your half filled cart. "They're the same, doll. I've tried one..I think it was called a Sun-sang, but I still ended up breaking the screen when I was playing a computerized bird that kept on flapping in between green annoying pipes," Bucky's eyes brimmed as he stared out in nowhere, remembering how he couldn't beat Peter's highest score in it, having the feel to beat your friend just to show who was the best.."That bird," He thought to himself, getting lost in his train of thoughts.

"It's called a Samsung, Darling." You stand corrected, his broad, cuddly back in view. The urge to hug the daylights out of him made you wrap around your arms around his waist in which he gladly accepted.

"Refrain from saying that. It makes me remember Sam's name and his god damn pranks on me, Doll."

You nodded, peeking beside Bucky as you looked at your cart. Counting and checking what was still needed in your cart full of perishable and imperishable goods. "Yeah, yeah. Now, go pee before you pee in your pants just like the old man you are," Y/N giggled, untangling her arms that was encircled around his waist as she walked around their cart to reach the other side of it, her notebook now in hand as she ticked the goods that can now be considered off the list.

Bucky playfully narrowed his eyes at her, she was definitely teasing him again. "Oh, wait until we get back to our apartment," He warned and started walking off, until he seemed to forget something..and so, Bucky strolled back towards her. Gently grabbing her shoulders to turn her body towards him. Y/N's eyes were now wide, skeptically gazing up at her smiling boyfriend. She was completely stupefied when she saw him smiling so wide. A strand of his brunette hair falling on his eye, she didn't hesitate to reach and tuck it behind his ear in pure affection.

Bucky felt his heart pound, warmth spreading through every vein in his body. He set his eyes on you lovingly, "Kiss me before I go, Sugar."

You can't help but shake your head in disbelief, a smile threatening to tear your face in half. "You're unbelievable, Barnes." Y/N took his face in her hands, giving him one sweet smooch on his plump, cherry red lips.

"So worth it, Doll!" Their hearts were jumping out of their chests, such felicity wrapped around the couple and most importantly was the joy they feel whenever they were in each other's arms..It was a precious sight to see Bucky smiling rather than being grumpy like the first time she met him.

Bucky was now off towards the restroom. Y/N kept her distance around the area where he left her. She couldn't help but get distracted from the lists that were still waiting to be ticked. The couple still needed to buy foods and they were still in the furniture department. She thought that maybe if she waited, they'll be taking more time staying in the mall. Y/N decided to grab some of the groceries listed and decided to just walk back after five minutes to where Bucky left her.

Y/N pushed her cart. Well, she took longer than five minutes when she came back to the furniture department. She was met with a group of teenagers plumping themselves on a big, leather black sofa, randomly trying to take pictures of themselves. Y/N began to pull a grimace when she saw no Bucky Barnes waiting for her from where he left her, guessing that maybe Bucky decided to leave her shopping all by herself.

She checked her phone and saw nothing but a text from Steve that probably took him minutes to type asking about how Bucky was. Y/N quickly replied to the star spangled Avenger, locking her phone then slipping it inside the pocket of her jacket after giving Steve a text back.

No beefy walking plum could be seen, Y/N looked all around, even inspected the ceiling, and even under the rows of beds. Negative. There was definitely no Bucky Barnes.

She went back to her cart, palms wrapped around the handle as she looked in her cart. Her eyes caught a bag of chips and it was a big bag of Cheetos. Y/N began glaring at the unhealthy food. They were both in a staring competition until hell freezes over and nobody wants to lose. Somebody was pushing her hand to grab onto the snack, and she was about to be defeated when a sudden loud intercom yelled through the speakers of the huge supermarket called her name..

"Paging Y/N Y/L! Your child is at register 10,"

'What child? I don't have a child?' Y/N thought quietly, totally bewildered. The cart was now neatly kept beside a display shelves full of school supplies, intellectually telling the sales clerks that somebody owns the cart. She trotted, and jogged towards the vicinity. Passing by carts, rows of goods and customers who was looking at her in utter confusion as to why she was in a hurry.

She was far ahead from the area, but she immediately knew it was Bucky who was sitting on a bench, his burly shoulders slightly slumped in feebleness, the furry navy blue sweatshirt could be seen more clearly with every step you take, strands of his majestic brunette hair that was in a bun have fallen on his neck like he frustratingly scratched his head a couple of times while he was finding his way to search for you.

Once you were close enough, such a precious sight was revealed. You were utterly thankful that you were in a relationship with this man. Bucky was fiddling with the leather black gloves of his left metal arm, legs crossed and eyes focused on his hands with an adorable pout that could even make kids point and say their aw's.

"Buck?" Y/N pitifully uttered. Only a deep, disappointed sigh was sent to you. "You left me," Bucky said sounding defeated, eyes still on his gloves, strands of his hair falling on his face, giving you no chance to fully see his saddened eyes. "You left me," He repeated more to himself, the idea of you not waiting for him seemed impossible for his mind to process. "I told you to wait for me, but you didn't. My Iphone's dead,"

"--I can't call you, so I was left with no choice but to page you out," Bucky honestly spoke, voice sounding lower than the usual and smaller. "I looked stupid running around in circles to find you, but I couldn't. Why didn't you wait for me, Doll?"

With one lift of his head, you were met with the most beautiful but dejected eyes you've ever seen. Your boyfriend's eyebrows were furrowed, looking like you left a puppy in the middle of the road with no one wanting to adopt him. Guilt and a tight, heavy tug at your heart brought you to lean down and hug Bucky around his neck, keeping his face in between your shoulder.

"I thought I lost you, I-I thought--I thought they've taken you away from me--"

"Baby, shhhhhh..I'm right here now. Aren't I?" You shushed him sweetly, your hands giving sweet, calming caresses against his broad, ripped back. He couldn't help but love how you were taking care of his sadness, how you can slowly take every pain and misery away, trapping the darkness in a vault and permanently kicking it in the middle of the ocean. Only your light was keeping Bucky in check. Y/N was his sunshine, and you planned to protect him with it.

"I'm sorry..I'm sorry, James. I'm never gonna be distracted again.. Oh, gosh..I think I need to learn to have patience," You felt him nuzzle his nose on your neck, his thick scruff tickling your neck, sneaky lips stealthily kissing the line meeting your neck and shoulder, and you couldn't help but give him a gentle slap on his back to warn his cheeky self, He was a sad child awhile ago and now he was beyond feeling cheeky.

"Bucky. It's Bucky. But, James sounds so good to hear when it comes from your lips, Doll." He playfully informed you, craning his neck to tenderly peck your cheek. You can't help but smile at his sweet gesture. "You know that we still got more things to buy in our list right?"

Bucky straightaway groaned at that. The fluffy bear man was never a fan of doing the groceries. Nevertheless, with you. He's been trying to endure it. "Do I have a choice, Sugar?"

"No," You frankly voiced out, breaking the hug that you were both wrapped in as you stood up straight. Your eyes turning around to look at the slightly packed supermarket. "Unless, you want to stay here all day and let people know you're my child then I guess you'll need to stay,"

Bucky was quick to stand on his feet, tucking a hair that fell on his eye, eyes completely looking embarrassed as he tried hard to cover his face from every person in the supermarket, and that made you giggle. He shook his head in disbelief, "Why did they even call me your child?"

"It's because you're my baby. You have no choice but to deal with it, Barnes." You teased him, leaving your boyfriend having to deal with his reddish cheeks and loud thumping heart. With that, Bucky wholeheartedly joined your grocery adventure and was left having fun picking the right plums, fruits, vegetables, meats and everything needed since you've managed to convince him that he was better at picking foods more than you. It was fun after all.

After that incident and a little scolding from your Bucky's best pal, Steve.. you'd always waited for Bucky to return whenever he had to use the bathroom because you would rather burn holes on the floor from waiting than see your Bucky looking sad and lost once again..

Yay! Thank you so much for reading! Did y'all like this one? If so, please do leave a feedback, follow me and turn on your notification bell? (Button? I dunno how Tumblr works lmao) so y'all will be updated for whatever imagines I post! 😊

Let's talk! Go send me an ask! 😊

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thesaltyoceanwaves · 4 years

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The One to Make It Stay Ending Cards (SCBB, ToW, WHM, TRSP, AtLWHitP)

I’ve been thinking lately of how I’d change the ending cards we get at the ending of each episode. I can’t draw though, so take my summaries instead. Some of these will be more specific than others.

I’m only covering material from Silence Can Be Beautiful up through the end of All the Laughs We Had in the Past, including Paper Sky chapters. Once ABoES is done, I’ll do a separate one for that. Any arc after that will also get its own post. I’m doing this in rough chronological order.

Chameleon/I Can Get Out of This + I Can Get Out of Here

Since this arc of the story is told through Rose’s POV, she's going to be getting a a spot in both of these cards (since I’m ideally seeing this as a two-parter).

This: Focuses of Rose receiving the message from Ali. She’s shocked and outraged. The other half of the card shows Marinette being comforted by Kitty Section (primarily Luka and Juleka).

Here: Kitty Section heading off into the sunset, with Marinette in the middle. Alya walks off with Lila, while Mylene and Alix look on in disappointment.

Silencer/Replay

I don’t imagine that this ending card would need a lot of changes. The only thing that would have to go in this case is Chat Noir, and I would change him to something else, like Marinette’s artwork for Kitty Section, just to foreshadow the change in relationships for the AU. Fitting though, since this episode was what brought this AU to fruition.

Animaestro/Reanimate

By contrast, this ending card would need to change dramatically. Chloe, Adrien and Kagami are all getting cut, since they aren’t the focus here. Instead, we get Jagged meeting Luka and Marinette, and Ivan, Rose and Juleka helping cater the event, all of them wearing their maid (Marinette and Juleka) and butler (Rose, Ivan and Luka) uniforms. Oh, and I guess Thomas Astruc can still stay, but he’ll be in the background somewhere. It’s a statement about him and canon not really being relevant or something.

Oblivio/Remember

Another dramatically different card. Hawkmoth smirking can stay, since it can give off that ominous bit of foreshadowing. However, Luka and Marinette looking at each other happily will replace the kiss between Chat and Ladybug. Alya will look at her tablet excitedly as she shares with Adrien and Nino. Nino looks indifferent while Adrien looks hopeful.

Puppeteer 2/Don’t Worry, Be Happy

No akumatization this time around, so the Puppeteer is getting cut. This time, we get Ladybug confronting an angry Alya and a saddened Chat. On the other half of the card, there’s Luka and Marinette walking with Manon between the two of them, holding her hands.

Hearing Only Yourself

The first of the interlude chapters, so I get to envision the card from scratch.

Statue Adrien standing in the middle, with Alya and Marinette on either side of him. They have that anime static-like glare going on at eye level as they confront each other. It’s exaggerated because this is Adrien’s POV.

Backwarder/yppaH eB, yrroW t’noD

Alya in a corner, alone and upset about the fight. Marinette happily chatting with Juleka and Rose at the pool, while Marianne reads the letter Fu wrote her. Fu looks contemplative.

Reflekdoll/Don’t Worry, It’s a Great Idea

Well, there’s no kwami swap in this version, so that’s out. Instead, Reflekdoll sits on her throne, watching everything unfold, while Ruby looks on with a regretful expression. Chat has his back turned and Luka looks serious.

Weredad/Don’t Worry, We’ll Figure it Out

On one side of the card is Viperion and Ladybug standing back to back, looking confident and in tune with each other. On the other hand, Luka and Marinette stand facing toward each other, but aren’t looking directly at each other.

Desperada/Don’t Worry, Things Are Working Out

So once again, there’s no Kagami or Adrien in the new version of the card. However, we finally get a kiss from our main couple! That’s taking center stage tbh. Vivica will be a more prominent figure, being escorted back home by Colette and Mirielle, the latter of which looks wary about everything that just unfolded.

The Evening Mist Melts Away

Luka and Marinette walking toward one side of the card, while Lila looks on with an irritated expression.

The Hour Glass is Drifting Away

Nino staring down at his phone as Ladybug leaves, waiting to send a message to Alya about what he’s just heard.

Stage Fright/Drove Down to the Shoreline

Kitty Section performing on stage, which takes up the middle. On one side, there’s Mirielle looking contemplative, while Stage Fright’s eyes look sharp and irritable.

Beach Bum/Hey Shoreline, Take Me Far Away

Beach Bum relaxing on the beach, while Ladybug, Viperion, Mousketeer and Taureau all stand on top of his sand castle.

It’s Gonna Feel So Rare

Pretty straightforward - Ladybug leaping into action, but the focus is on Mouseketeer and Taureau Furieux, nervous but excited to help.

I Owe You Every Joy of Love

Alya looking nervous, staring out the window as she prepares herself to talk with Ladybug. Lila on the other side, looking rather pleased with herself, not aware of what is about to happen.

Stormy Weather 2/I Remember When Things Were Easier

The recurring theme of this post is that the tone of most of these cards don’t fit their AU counterparts. And wow, what a stark difference these next few cards will be.

Anyway, Aurore calms herself down with a cup of tea or chatting with some friends. Meanwhile, Chloe watches Ladybug zip off, and is not happy about it.

When the Dream’s So Real

Jagged with his back to the frame, walking side by side along Penny and Ruby, happily chatting about future plans for his pupils.

Miracle Queen/I Remember All the Second Chances

Marinette crying while Luka holds her. Fu looking worried about everything that’s unfolded. Adrien with his back to the frame, although you can see him touching his lips with his fingers. Chloe also has her back to the frame. Alternatively, it can be Miracle Queen, eyes widened as she realized what she’s done.

You Smile Like an Angel

Rose and Juleka holding each other while they cry. Tigresse averting her gaze as she’s realized she’s failed her mission.

Feast/I Remember Our Promise

A shot revealing the tattoo created by the ritual. Feline Fatale standing rather meancingly. Adrien with the butterfly outline over his eyes, not quite akumatized yet.

Don’t Step Over My Head

Hawkmoth standing alongside Feline Fatale, who is now in plain view. Half of Adrien is his civilian self, crying out in horror, the other half is Space Patrol, who is wearing his cat-shaped helmet, thus his expression cannot be seen.

Space Patrol/I Remember How Things Used to Be

Space Patrol takes the place of Chat Blanc in the new version of this card, still with that contrast with Hawkmoth, while the supporting heroes stand in for Bunnyx. Lastly, we have Ladybug in her new armor holding hands with Viperion, while Marinette and Luka share a slow dance on the boat.

My World is Wishing Me Asleep

Fitting that Alya’s Interlude is the one to start the arc, and that Adrien’s is the one to close off on it. As such, I think his card should parallel hers. So he looks nervous because now he doesn’t know what to expect going forward. He no longer has Plagg, and doesn’t know what to expect. Meanwhile, Hawkmoth takes Lila’s role, smiling menacingly as things are now going according to plan for him.

#ml salt #ml salt au #ml salt fic #lukanette #lukanette fic #the one to make it stay #silence can be beautiful #thinking of ways #white hot morning #paper sky peels off the walls #the radio still plays #all the laughs we had in the past

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safrona-shadowsun · 4 years

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Send me ∞ and my muse will tell you - Leon, naturally

{Art found on character page! Warning for nsfw}

If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Interesting || Alright || Cute || Freaking Adorable || Pretty Smile || Beautiful || Hot || Stunning

“When the man speaks he makes me smile. It’s very attractive no matter the face you wear.”

If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME

“A friendly little dinner date does sound appealing. Especially if he is cooking. Maybe one of these days I’ll get me and mine situated, who knows.”

If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || With My Life

“I let the man feed me, which speaks some.” An inward chuckle. “I can confide some thoughts to him, and he had earned that over some time.”

If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply

“When Mr. Ambroce went missing for a time, I was deeply concerned. I would be profoundly saddened if he met his end before his time.”

If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

“I don’t think either one of us would be comfortable pushing a boundary now. We both have people we go Home to. I only share my bed with one.”

My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Cuddle || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together

“One of the few I’d actually let hug me.” Safrona chuckled beneath her breath. “He is an affectionate sort. Took me some time, but I grew accustomed.”

I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || My Best Friend || A Crush || The Love of My Life

“Leon Ambroce is a good friend, and I am fairly sure I’ve come to adore him as just that.”

{ @mremaknu }

#Leon Ambroce #Mremaknu #Another very rare good friend #Saf is lucky to have him in her circles #He tries to take care of her when she manages to stop by and its sincerely adorable #she;'d be in danger if she were single xD

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peaceisadirtyword · 6 years

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Secrets XIV (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!♥️ Here’s the next part of Secrets... I had an amazing idea for this part, but of course I wrote it awfully. I’m going to hire someone with talent to write my ideas because it seems I’m incapable... Anyway, I hope you like it, though it’s very long and it can be boring. Sorry💔

Warnings: Angst, drama, a funeral, Ivar has a weird way of dealing with things, I want to marry Hvitserk because he’s the cutest, the idea was wonderful but my writing it’s not.

Words: 4092 (sorry)

gif belongs to @whenimaunicorn

You had never been to a funeral.

You had known people that died, of course, but neither of your parents ever took you to their funerals, saying you were too young to be in there.

Ragnar's funeral was the first one you attended to, and suddenly you were grateful to your parents for the first time in your life. You wanted nothing than start running and leave that place.

Aslaug was solemn, her beautiful face was covered by a black veil, that hided a very natural make up. She was dressed in black, like everyone else, and wore black sunglasses that hid the dark circles under her eyes. She pretended to be okay, even smiled politely to the people that came to her, giving empty condolences. But you had heard her crying more than once in her room.

Hvitserk and Sigurd weren't that affected by the loss of their father. You knew they didn't feel very attached to both their parents, as they felt neglected by them for their whole life. Hvitserk was the one that kept you company during the long days before the funeral, even joking and smiling sometimes. Ragnar's death hurt him, but not as much as it did to his older and younger brother.

Ubbe was very attached to his father. Being the oldest, he had a close relationship with him. And Ivar... He always looked up to his father, always supported him even when he hated him for hurting his mother and abandoning his sons.

Both of them were heartbroken, but they had different ways to show it.

Ubbe was the one that suffered in silence, cried when no one could see him, and smiled when he was with someone. He tried to protect his whole family taking care of all the paperwork and preparing the funeral. You found him comforting Aslaug and Ivar more than once.

Ivar cried when no one could see him, but he was always angry.

He had been trapped on a wheelchair since the... incident with his leg. He needed constant care to make sure his leg was healing right, but even if you tried to help him, he ended up screaming at you and even throw one of his new crutches your way, even if it didn't hit you, it was shocking, as he had never been aggressive (physically) towards you.

From that day, only Helga could help him.

"Don't take it personal" Hvitserk had smiled at you apologetically "He's dealing with a lot of things and you know him... It has nothing to do with you, he's just used to Helga taking care of him since he was a baby"

Ivar's attitude didn't change the next few days; he stopped talking to you at all, he didn't even acknowledge you, it became a habit to never be alone with him. You knew he was suffering, mourning his father's loss, thirsty for vengeance, angry at the world, frustrated because he wouldn't be able to walk for weeks and that wheelchair made him feel weak and it shamed him.

You didn't want to be the target of his fury, not anymore, so you kept the distance, giving him space.

You were dealing with all of it in a very different way.

Ragnar's death shocked you. You didn't really understood how dark were the Lothbrok's business, but he ended up dead. Ivar had killed a man (more than one, surely, but one that you knew of) with his own hands, someone had broke into the apartment when you were all alone, sleeping, and took photos of you to send a threat to the brothers. It was like stepping on a modern Peaky Blinders storyline, but it was more frightening than the books and tv shows.

What hurt you the most was Ivar's indifference towards you. How could he be the same man that only a few days before had whispered how much he loved you while making love to you?. Who spent a whole day in bed, worshipping you? It was like being with two different Ivars. When you were closer to him, when you thought you had finally destroyed that wall between bot of you, he stepped back, he turned into an even colder and more distant person. And it didn't matter how hard you tried, it seemed he didn't want to be reached.

So you had spent your lasts days in the big house, all alone in the guest room, sometimes with Hvitserk keeping you company, or even with Sigurd, who was nicer to you when he saw Ivar's attitude.

Ubbe came to see you a few times, too, just to make sure you had eaten and were okay. It wasn't like he truly cared, you thought, he only wanted to keep you alive so they wouldn't have any other problems.

Aslaug was nice and warm to you, as always, but you tried to avoid her company as much as you could.

You only met Ragnar once, but he was nice to you, and his death saddened you in a certain way, especially because it hurt a lot of people you cared for.

There was lots and lots of people in the funeral. You had stayed on a second place, far from the Lothbroks who were receiving condolences. You could have sat next to Ivar, to whom no one dared to speak, as he had that don't even approach me look that would make the bravest person gulp nervously. You were dying to sit next to him, to hug him and let him cry on your shoulder, comfort him, kiss his forehead and promise him everything would be okay. It broke your heart to see the pain in his eyes, but you were too scared of his reaction. He hadn't even looked at you that morning, and you were sure he wouldn't exactly appreciate your company (or anyone's) at that moment.

You had drank three glasses of wine already, trying to calm down your nerves. You had no idea of the amount of wine that was socially acceptable to drink at a funeral, but it wasn't like you truly cared.

"Y/N" a gentle hand touched your arm softly when you were about to finish your third glass, making you tense up immediately.

"Helga" you sighed in relief "Hi"

She smiled at you. During the pasts days, she had been at the Lothbrok's house taking care of Ivar, cooking for everyone, comforting Aslaug and helping Ubbe with all the family work. She was the nicest person you had ever met, so you were grateful for her company.

"How are you, my dear?" she asked, still smiling softly. It was obvious that Ragnar's death had broken her heart, but she managed to hide it.

"Fine, I'm..." you gulped, not really knowing how to describe your feelings "I'm okay, I suppose"

"If you need anything, please just ask" she squeezed your arm softly "To me, or Ubbe, or Hvitserk, if you feel more comfortable with him" she pressed her lips together "Or Ivar, he cares about you"

You almost choked with the wine. Ivar did not care about you, you had had enough time to understand that on the lonely days you had spent on the bed, looking at the plain wall and thinking what you could have done so bad that Ivar didn't want anything to do with you.

"Thank you, Helga" you smiled at her politely. It wasn't the moment to blurt out all your frustrations.

"Hello, Helga" someone stopped next to you, and you recognized the voice immediately. The blonde woman looked stunning, but had the same dark circles under her eyes that Aslaug tried to cover totally unhidden.

She smelled like a very expensive perfume, those your mother used to buy and didn't use.

"Y/N" she smiled at you politely. Se was dressed all in black, with her blonde hair collected on a elegant bun with braids "I don't know if you'll remember me... I'm Lagertha"

How could you forget a woman like that? Of course you remembered, but acted as if you didn't.

"Oh, yeah, hello" you smiled at her as Helga hugged her tightly, muttering something on her ear, you almost felt uncomfortable, but they soon turned to you.

"I'm so sorry, my dear" Lagertha looked at you, caressing your cheek softly, which made you shiver "Sorry this happened when you were still here... Surely these aren't the holidays you were expecting, are they?"

"Honestly, no" you frowned "But that's not important, I think"

"Well, we're grateful to have you here, Ivar surely feels better with you by his side"

You cleared your throat before emptying the glass of wine.

"And Ragnar really liked you" Lagertha kept talking "He told me, he liked the way Ivar was when you were with him, he said you were good for him... Ragnar had a very good eye for people, and there's very few people he actually liked, so you must be very especial"

You didn't really know what to say, so you just smiled at her, almost screaming in relief when Ubbe approached you.

"Y/N" he smiled at Helga and frowned at Lagertha "I was looking for you, come, Ivar wants to talk to you"

You left the empty glass on one of the tables and followed him, saying goodbye softly.

Ivar wants to talk to you. Your heart skipped a beat at that. Maybe he wanted to apologize and...

It's Ivar, don't lie to yourself.

"How are you?" Ubbe guided you out of the church. At first, you had been very confused; why did Ragnar want to be buried in a Christian cemetery? It didn't really make sense, but Hvitserk told you he wanted to be buried next to an old friend of his, who was buried in there. Anyway, it was nice to be out of the house for a while.

"I'm fine" you said, again, you were tired of saying it "And you? How are you, Ubbe?"

He smiled a bit, shaking his head, but he didn't answer.

"You're going back to the school, Y/N"

You frowned. It wasn't a question or a suggestion.

"What?"

"As soon as you're ready, Hvitserk offered to take you"

"But there's still some days left until the holidays are over"

"It's fine, you can go back whenever you want to" he shrugged "Besides, your friends will arrive soon"

"But... I don't want to leave..."

"It's for the best" he smiled at you "Ivar needs... Space now, and we... Our family needs to be together and..."

You gulped again, looking away. Of course, they were a family, which you would never be part of, Ivar didn't want you in his family, and now you were nothing more than a burden for all of them.

"Okay" you bit your lip "Sorry..."

"Don't be sorry" Ubbe hugged you, which made even harder to stop yourself from crying "None of this is your fault"

You nodded, managing to smile when he got away from you.

Ivar didn't talk to you that day either. You were getting tired of that silent treatment you didn't deserve. As he just buried his father, you didn't want to push him, but as Hvitserk was taking you to the school that night, you wanted to at least say goodbye.

He was in his room, while the rest of the family was downstairs, drinking and remembering Ragnar's best moments. You hadn't changed yet, and wore the black dress and the dark tights you wore for the funeral. Your hair was still curly since you did it that morning, but you left the heels on your room.

Biting your lip, you knocked. Ivar didn't answer, as always, but you entered anyway.

He was on his bed, laying down facing the wall.

"Ivar?" You cleared you throat.

He sighed.

"How are you?" You approached the bed, still wary, but kneeling next to him.

"That's the stupidest thing you've ever asked, Y/N"

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

"Yeah, it wasn't..." You gulped "I..."

"What do you want?" He sounded exhausted, and you wondered if he had gotten any sleep lately.

"Hvitserk is taking me back to the school tonight" you bit your lip again "I just wanted to talk to you"

"You're already talking" he hadn't looked your way yet.

"I know you're hurting, Ivar, and I know you're angry because of your leg and the wheelchair and all of that but..." You felt your eyes wet and fought the tears "You're angry at me and I don't know why, I just... Did I do something wrong? I just tried to help you that day I..."

"What do you want?" He repeated. This time he looked at you, the blue eyes that looked at you warmly a few days before now were sending daggers your way.

"Ivar why don't you let me help you?" You were at the verge of tears now, biting your lip "Why do you act like I'm a stranger? I'm here, you can tell me how you feel, you can rely on me, you don't have to push me away every time something happens... I trust you, Ivar, why don't you trust me?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I can't trust anyone, Y/N, I'm not an idiot, I don't need anyone's help"

"Of course you need it, everyone needs it, Ivar!" You scoffed "You can trust me, I'm not going anywhere..." You sighed "I'm not Freydis, I love you"

He tensed when he heard her name. And immediately glared at you.

"No you're not Freydis" he clenched his jaw "Freydis wouldn't stand there and ask stupid questions, Freydis would understand everything, Freydis was braver, she wasn't some stupid girl that didn't even understand what she was getting into, you will never be Freydis, no one can even be like her"

You looked at him as your heart broke in a million pieces. That was it. You had been comparing yourself to Freydis since you knew of her existence, wondering if Ivar would ever love you that way, if he would ever get over her, knowing she was far more beautiful than you.

But you were tired of his attitude towards you.

"You know what?" Your voice was shaking, and some tears already rolled down your cheeks "I tried to help you, I came here to comfort you because you just buried your father, I've spent days wondering what I had done wrong for you to be so fucking angry at me, I thought it was my fault, Ivar, I worry about you and you make me feel like shit, but I'm done with that" he looked surprised, but didn't look away as he listened to you "I will never be Freydis, okay, I might not be as beautiful and smart and brave, but she left you and I stayed thought I didn't really have a reason to do it, but now you've done it, you've pushed me away and I won't stand here to be humiliated and insulted by you when I only wanted to help you because I care about you!" You stood up, almost yelling at him. You didn't even care if someone heard you.

Ivar frowned, but didn't say anything as you left the room, closing the door behind you and almost not reaching your bedroom before you started sobbing. You heard Ivar punch something, and scream something in danish before Hvitserk knocked at your door, calling your name softly.

"I shouldn't have yelled at him" you sighed, resting your head against the window. Hvitserk sighed, and looked at you briefly before his eyes went back to the road, his hands never leaving the steering wheel.

"Ivar can be very hurtful when he wants" he said softly "You had the right to tell him what you think"

"Yes but his father died, Hvitserk" you bit your lip "Maybe I pushed him too much..."

"My father died too, Y/N, and I don't treat you like shit because of that"

"Yes but... He has a lot going on"

"But you tried to help him, it's not your fault"

"Yeah but..." You wiped another tear. You were still angry and sad, but hadn't had the strength to confront Ivar again before getting into the car with Hvitserk.

"I shouldn't have gone to your house for the holidays"

Hvitserk rolled his eyes. He had been angry at Ivar since he heard what he said to you, but didn't want to fight with him while you were still in the house.

"Y/N, you couldn't know what was going to happen, and neither did us, it's no one's fault, you came with us to spend the holidays, Ivar invited you because he wanted you there"

"Did he now?"

"Yes, he did, and he does, I know my brother and he... He did wanted you there"

You stayed silent to avoid the tears again.

The familiar sight of the Valhalla Academy made your stomach clench. You almost didn't believe everything that had happened in just a few weeks.

"Missed it?" Hvitserk chuckled seeing your face.

"Not really"

"People should come back in three or four days" he explained "You won't be alone for long, thought there's people that stayed here"

"I can use a bit of loneliness now"

Hvitserk parked the car before the main door. It was still opened, though it was already late, but you wanted to postpone the moment you had to walk through that door.

"Well..." He said "Did you at least enjoy the holidays?"

"They weren't boring" you smiled softly "Thank you, Hvitty"

"For what?" He frowned a bit, but smiled back at you.

"For taking care of me, listening to my ranting about your brother, for being the best friend I've ever had and for taking me here"

"You don't have to thank me, Y/N, I just know what you're going through, I... Care about you, you know that already" he muttered, blushing "You're special"

"You say that to every girl" you laughed.

"I don't" he smiled, but shook his head "I really don't, Y/N"

"Honestly, you're my favorite out of your brothers..."

"Don't let Ivar hear that, I want to have children one day and I need my dick on its place"

You laughed again, but this time it sounded different.

"I don't think he cares"

Hvitserk touched your face, his green eyes on yours.

"He cares, Y/N, he really does, he's now hurting and he was worried about you getting hurt and all of that... He pushes people away"

"Strange way of worrying about me then"

"Ivar has his own way of doing things... That doesn't mean, of course, that it's okay" he sighed "Don't think about it, mor really liked you" he smiled, punching your arm softly trying to make you laugh "I think we all expected she hated you, like she does with Margrethe, as you were with her favorite son" he rolled his eyes "But she loved you, she told Ubbe you are exactly what we needed"

"What you needed?"

"Love, if you marry one of us, you marry all of us... Especially Ivar, he's our little brother, so you'd have to deal with at least Ubbe and I always around"

"Oh, lovely, I'm looking forward to that moment" you replied sarcastically, raising your eyebrows.

Hvitserk chuckled before opening the door and getting out of the car, moving to the truck to take out your things. Sighing, you followed him, not really wanting to go inside the school.

"Well..." He shrugged "I..."

"Hvitserk I need to ask you something" you quickly said. It was the perfect moment, ask and run away. You wouldn't see him for some days, and you wouldn't be too embarrassed then "That day in the apartment... You were going to kiss me... right?"

His smile faltered, and he looked away. You had never seen Hvitserk blush, but he did, he blushed and rubbed his eyes to try and hide it, failing miserably.

"Look, Y/N, I really regret fucking Margrethe when I was hooking up with you, I... Was blinded for the need of sex, and it's the worst excuse you would ever hear, but... I honestly liked you a lot, you didn't want to sleep with me yet, which is completely respectable, I just didn't... Fuck, I slept with Margrethe more than once because I thought I was horny and that's why I wanted to be with you, it wasn't my intention to play with you in that way"

"Okay..." You frowned "But we already talked about that, I don't..."

"Yes, and I was completely fine with it when Ivar told me about you, I was happy" he scoffed "My brother was happy and you were happy, so I was glad for you... Until I realized Ivar doesn't really deserve you, of course he's my brother and I want the best for him, but I care about you too, and seeing the way he's treating you... Look, it's better if I just leave and..."

"No, tell me" you grabbed his arm "I want to hear it"

"Ivar is my brother, I love him, but you honestly are the best thing that ever happened to him, and to me, and to my whole fucking family if we're being honest, and he doesn't appreciate you. Neither did I when I had the chance" he chuckled, shaking his head. His beautiful green eyes were looking everywhere but you, and you could swear he was about to cry "We don't deserve you, and you don't deserve the way we treated you"

You were speechless. You thought he'd just smile and tell you it was a joke, or a way to make you think about something else, or maybe he was angry at Ivar for something. But you didn't expect him to say... That.

"I just wish I had been clever enough to not fuck things up when I had the chance to be with you" he honestly didn't know how he should tell you "And not push you directly into his arms acting like an asshole"

"To be honest, both of you acted like assholes" you smiled softly "You and I didn't have anything serious, so you don't have to apologize"

"You're not understanding, Y/N" he smiled "I won't try anything with you, because I can't do that to my brother, but I wish I had been the one with you in that hotel room"

"Hvitserk..." You bit your lip "I didn't know... God, I'm sorry"

"Why are you sorry?" He laughed "It's not your fault, none of this is your fault... You can forget about it now, forget about us... You'll meet someone better, Y/N, and hopefully he'll work in a restaurant and you will have a more relaxed life" he joked.

Your small smile faded quickly.

"Why is this sounding like a goodbye?" You asked nervously "I'll see you in a few days, right?"

Hvitserk licked his lips before answering.

"Look, Y/N, I don't think we will ever come back here" he sighed "Mor wants to sell the house we have here, and we have more important things to do than studying literature"

"What do you mean?" You were starting to panic "You can't just disappear... I don't understand..."

"Hey" he cupped your face between his hands "Relax, Y/N, it will be okay, nothing will happen to you, I promise"

"When will I see you then? When will I see Ivar? I need to talk to him, we had a fight..."

"You won't" he clenched his jaw "I'm sorry, Y/N, but it's for the best"

"It's not for the best, you chose for me without consulting me first"

"This doesn't have anything to do with you, Ivar is not trying to get away from you, we just have a lot going on right now"

Told you, you're a burden for everyone, Y/N

"Can at least call you?" You tried again, with tears already falling down your cheeks.

Hvitserk smiled softly hugging you tightly. You hugged him back, wishing he would start laughing and say it was all a joke.

He didn't.

He kissed your cheek before whispering a 'we'll see' and leaving your side. He entered the car and smiled at you again, winking.

When the car disappeared, you were still standing in there, your head replaying again and again your fight with Ivar. And then you started crying again, knowing it would be a while until you saw him again. Or maybe you wouldn't see him ever again.

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @cbouvier23 @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @memememememe1-blog @dreamtherapy @rravenss @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @thehanneloner @fuckthatfeeling @drowninginyoureyes95 @chimera4plums @mrstheorossix3 @blushingskywalker @succatababe @imcreepininyourheartbabe @austenkingmylady @timber3 @unacceptabletatertots @awkwardfangirl02 @athroatfullofglass @shipping-not-sailing @miserablecunt @two-unbeatable-beaters @gruffle1 @bucketfairies @tatidark @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallylebecks @trashcanx @misskalonthelady

I hope I didn’t miss anyone💜 thanks for reading!

#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #vikings #vikings imagine #modern vikings #modern ivar

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icarus-imagines · 5 years

Text

Yusuke Kitagawa X Gay!Artist!Shadow!Reader

I have a request a Yusuke X Gay!Artist!Rival!Reader

Pwettty Pwease OwO

Word Count: 2,765

Category: Persona 5

~Choose What Your Heart Decides~

Why is he talking to her?

You couldn't help but let a sour expression invade your face as your (E/c) orbs secretly watched the scene in front of you unfold from your desk by the window, where you had been previously doing your homework until you heard their voices engage together.

It was Yusuke Kitagawa, the handsomely gifted painter you admired so much who was conversing with a friend. But he wasn't the one who had turned your mood foul. It was her. His friend.

Ann Takamaki.

A sweet, kind, and a very compassionate girl who always looked good in everything she wore. A well-known model. She was most beautiful, but undoubtedly not more beautiful than the calm and poetic specimen she was having a conversation with.

Though very attractive to many of your male peers you would never be attracted to her in such a red colored red. You knew if you had been born to love females like God had intended, or so people preached, you knew you would have gotten a troublesome crush on the girl. But that wasn't the case.

You had feelings of red for Yusuke.

Though color red was an odd way to explain it, you felt it most appropriate to explain it in such an elegant way, just like Yusuke was. You and he were one in the same, both paid terms. But unlike him, you were not known to be one. The reason being you had an anonymous name. (A/n). You didn't want people to know you because you were scared. But that was a sad note not wanting to be touched.

Stashing away the easy Calculus homework you had been working on you sighed lowly slinging the bag on, forgetting your sketchbook on the desk. While doing so you fixed your hair a bit from the tiniest OCD, making sure you're shiny locks of (H/c) were perfect and not out of place.

Taking a few steps forward you began to make your way out the door. Even though school ended about 10 minutes ago you stayed to finish the homework like a good student. Yusuke didn't go to this school but often visited after the bell to speak with his friends. Not that you were a stalker, but you had witnessed it multiple times since you sat behind the silent and mysterious boy named Akira Kurusu and his best friend Ryuji Sakamoto. And it was weirder that Akira for some reason had a cat in his desk and bag at all times. Yet nobody noticed. You thought you may have gone crazy contemplating on if it was real or not.

Shaking your head to rid yourself of the thoughts you continued on your way, noticing you had slowed while thinking. You almost stopped in your tracks as Yusuke's silky voice traveled to your ears. But the words he said sounded like long nails on a chalkboard. Horrible and unsettling.

"Takamaki-san, I must remind you that you still have not accepted my request. Surely you will make up your mind and readily agree to become my model for the next masterpiece I plan on creating?"

"Tch," Was all that escaped past your (Plump/Thin/Etc.) lips not waiting for Ann's response to such a generous and thoughtful question. You didn't hear the words exit her mouth as she agreed.

To imagine a beauty of a woman posing in various positions, whether they be innocent or lustful you had no idea, but in front of Yusuke. He would have to gaze at her body for hours, maybe even longer!

Leaving the classroom to calm yourself by walking home, you missed the confused looks of Akira, Ryuji, and Ann. But more importantly, you missed the saddened and very puzzled expression belonging to a certain boy named Yusuke who realized you had forgotten to take your sketchbook. He would have to find you and give it back if he ever had a chance to.

~*~*~*~

Yusuke sighed once again at his teammates as they tried to figure out where to go next. They had been tracking down a tainted aura through the other world known as Mementos wondering what the individual was after.

They noted it that it would actually stay close to them. But disappear as they approached to close. So they decided to use a different tactic. I stead of following the actual Shadow, they would find its so-called nest of sorts. It's home. Usually, they wouldn't work this hard at finding a Shadow, but this one seemed a bit stronger. Some kind of Mini-Boss.

Walking for a few minutes they came upon a house. It was a pulsing red, with red roses scattering the front lawn with its vines scaling all around the house. They even trailed through every open window, including the door that was also open, to the center of the house. It was as if it was tiny. They had been correct. This Shadow was stronger than normal. It seemed to almost be on the verge of creating a castle and them wouldn't let that happen. Not when they were so close.

Careful of the beautiful but dangerously sharp crimson roses that all seemed to ooze out from within their petals mahogany liquid thick like blood, Yusuke gazed at the house with confusion. It was familiar. Like he had seen it before. But that was utterly impossible. But...he had to make sure.

Turning to his comrades, The Phantom Thieves, behind him who were peering at the roses on the ground with a mix of fascination and bewilderment he spoke to them.

"I would like to investigate further inside, alone. If that is alright," he said simply watching as the eyes behind each mask of his friends looked at him with confusion. He just replied, "I'll explain later, if that is alright, leader?"

Akira stood there for a few seconds weighing the pros and cons before giving a small nod of approval.

Yusuke bowed his head the slightest bit thankful. "I'll be quick."

Yusuke turned to the house, knowing that if it was not in Mementos it would have a small garden in the front and very cozy. Pushing the door he entered the home. Instantly the hairs on his body sprung up. It was cold. Something was here.

Taking a few cautious steps he entered a hallway. But stopped seeing paintings of every size imaginable with varying emotions swirling within each canvas. Not only did he perceive this as an artist himself, but it was easy to figure it out because it was literal. Each painting was moving.

The light ones were merrily filled with laughing, dancing, singing, and anything of the like. While the darker, more saddened paintings were filled with crying and depressed scenes depicting fears. Fears manifested from the artist or just plain inspiration was beyond Yusuke.

Shaking his head to rid thoughts of the sad Shadow he looked to the end of the hallway freezing as he saw it. Standing in front of the door at the end of the overly long hallway. It was him. The Shadow.

Yusuke's face behind his fox mask dropped. He knew who was and it tightened his heartstrings.

It was you.

You wore your normal school uniform. You (H/c) hair perfectly styled, just like always Yusuke noted fondly. But you're eyes. Yusuke cringed at the color. Instead of familiar (E/c) he was used to gazing into, even when you didn't look back, was now a dull yellow. Such an ugly color on your visage.

This time though you were staring straight at Yusuke. Unlike other Shadows you were silent. Hands straight at your sides but shaking slightly. You were nervous. Scared maybe. Of me?, Yusuke thought. It seemed like it.

Yusuke turned to pop his head out of the door to look at his teammates. "Nobody is present. Maybe they are around the area and we should split up?" he offered. They looked at him curiously, but since he never lied or tried to ever deter them in any way they agreed. Splitting up and searching. But Yusuke stayed behind, closing the door before walking back to the hallway.

His eyes widened a bit seeing that you had disappeared. But he was quick to see you had disappeared behind the door, evident from it is slightly ajar.

Careful as he walked slowly down the long hallway Yusuke glanced at the many paintings on each side of the hallway. The roses with vines trailed along the walls, even the ceiling, and floor. All growing thicker and wilder as they trailed into the room. And he noticed with surprise there was thorns. The ones closest to him were dull and short, but the closer he got to the room they grew longer and much sharper.

Placing his palm on the door he pushed it open, cringing slightly at the small squeaking of the ominous door. Peering inside he was taken aback by the scene displayed before his eyes.

The roses were even more wild, spiraling to the bed in the back. Thornes creating a small barrier at the base. And there you were. Still nonspeaking and it looked like you had been crying, obvious from the tears slowly running down your porcelain face as you sat silently on the sheets of the bed that were satin and shiny.

Yusuke drew nearer, walking over the vines that looked to be steadily beating like that of an actual heart. Stopping mid-way through watching curiously as you froze in shock. You had thought he had left you alone to wade in your river of sorrows.

Yusuke leisurely walked towards you, careful as not to scare, as he sat down beside you. Resting his hands on the bed, leaning back, he closed his eyes wondering what you would do. It wasn't long before he heard the bed sheets shift slightly and you're smooth voice enter his ears.

"Kitagawa-Ku-"

"Yusuke," he said cutting you off though he knew it to be incredibly rude and ungentlemanly. But he had to get it across you could call him by his first name. He did care about you. Turning to see you had now faced him, sitting on your knees he wanted to chuckle but instead, he revealed his face by taking off his kitsune style mask. "You can call me, Yusuke."

He watched as your an expression that was once depressed brighten instantly. A small smile flickering on it. "Yusuke...why are you here? Is it...Is it because you wish to steal my heart? To change it?"

Yusuke looked at you amused. Did you want him to steal your heart? If so he would do it in a heartbeat, pun not intended. His grey eyes that would, from somebody else's view look dull and not full of life, were gleaming happily.

"Do you wish for me to steal your heart?"

Your face flushed quickly, yellow eyes cast down now embarrassed. "If you want to...I wouldn't be against it."

Yusuke took off his bright blue gloves revealing flawless and unscarred skin. Discarding his gloves on a random part of the bed he brought his right hand up to cup your cheek. Your eyes widened slightly turning to stare at him.

"I am afraid to say I cannot change your heart, you have to do it yourself," he said his thumb caressed your cheek in a soothing manner. "You are the deep inner self of the one I admire."

"You," you started confused. "You admire me?"

Yusuke nodded confirming your statement. "I recognized your art in the hallway. They are the same as the new painting I've seen in the museum."

"You recognized them, even though I'm anonymous? I'm quite honored. Your art is beautiful, on a whole new level. Hopefully, I can become like you one day."

Yusuke hummed, sadness flitting across his face for a second. "Don't worry about becoming like me. Stay who you are and I'm sure you'll be a great artist. The same goes for your heart. Changing it is up to you."

You looked down once more then back up, leaning into his hand. Yusuke felt and saw the vines with roses start to pulse. Maybe it was somehow connected to your heart.

"I'll change I promise. I'll not only change for you, but I'll change for myself."

Yusuke nodded reluctantly removing his hand away from you and covering them both with his gloves. Standing up he turned to you once more, his mask dangling from his fingers.

He looked at you for a few seconds as you took this precious time to admire him. His hair was shiny. A brilliant blue matching his costume. Lithe in form with the beauty of a fox. A calm and collected individual with an intelligence like no other. An aspiring painter with skill just opening. How lucky you were to be able to get close to him.

He leaned down after a few seconds planting a chaste kiss on your forehead that would most definitely bloom into a brilliant flower. Making you think of something. Though it is clearly random.

"I should get a tattoo," you say simply taking him by surprise. But replied with a small smirk, happy at seeing you open up and say more. He could see it in the way your eyes grew brighter, even with the ugly yellow that still resided in them.

"And what will it be off, may I ask?"

"I'm thinking of a rose. Nothing big, just on my wrist or something," you said explaining why it wasn't just a spontaneous thought or decision. "Three roses. Pink, Red, and White. Do you think this is a good choice?"

Yusuke placed his hands on your shoulders putting his forehead on yours. His eyes close to yours gazing into them serenely. You could feel his breath fan your lips making you blush.

"It is up to you to decide what is right or wrong. Be careful what you choose," he said his presence leaving you. He turned walking to the door, but before he closed it, slipping on his mask he turned back to you with a sparkle in his eye.

"Choose what your heart decides, (M/n)."

~The End~

Fun Facts:

-In dreams hallways, whether they be long or short, are interpreted as the dreamer having untapped psychic abilities. In this case, it's the reader's art. They have not yet reached their full potential. Another interpretation is the frustration the dreamer has of being in a repetitive situation. The reader feels they have been this hallway for a long time being that they have always wanted to speak to Yusuke, but have never been able to walk the length of it. Always staying at the beginning. While Yusuke took the steps needing to reach the reader. In reality, not Mementos, the hallway is shorter. Making this dream real in a way-

-Rose tattoos have their own meanings. The obvious meaning of being love and beauty. But the color creates a deeper feel making the meaning of the rose richer and more unique.

The first color mentioned was Pink. Symbolizing healing, first love, and innocence.

Healing: The reader will heal from their past mistakes and jealousy.

First love: The readers first love is Yusuke. And vice versa.

Innocence: The reader is new to love. Young and vibrant.

The second color mentioned was Red. Symbolizing romance or passionate love. But they also represent sacrifice.

Romance/Passionate Love: The love between the reader and Yusuke is more of an innocent love, but it can sometimes be romantic and passionate. An effect from their artistic personalities.

Sacrifice: The reader has sacrificed their old ways to be with Yusuke. When there is the love you need a sacrifice. This proves the love you have for each other is genuine.

The third color mentioned was White. Symbolizing purity, mysticism, and a secret admirer.

Purity: The reader is pure when Yusuke is with him. Become pure.

Mysticism: Taken from how Yusuke talked to the readers inner self in Mementos.

Secret Admirer: The reader and Yusuke were both secrets admirers of each other. Though now it's out in the open~-

#x reader #oneshot #imagine #drabble #persona #persona 5 #yusuke kitagawa #yusuke kitagawa x reader #yusuke kitagaea x male reader #yusuke kitagawa x artist reader #yusuke kitagawa x shadow reader #request #fun facts #phantom thieves #dreams #male reader

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breg21 · 5 years

Text

Ladynoir Month: Homework

@ladynoirjuly2019

Ao3 FFN

First off, I wanted to say thank you to Starlin's ghost, for pointing out the error in the last chapter, I plan to go fix that either thoughts, or tomorrow morning. I greatly appreciate it! :D

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! On with the chapter.

In all honesty, Marinette had never been a fan of homework. It was a pain most days and when she slept in late— or was busy being Ladybug—she would always miss the lesson in class, thus leaving her clueless as to what to do for the assignment.

"Marinette," Tikki called softly over her shoulder. "You have patrol with Chat in ten minutes."

Oh, shoot. She had forgotten about patrol with her boyfriend— wow, that, that still felt weird on her tongue, a good weird though— And she really didn't want to cancel. They weren't even a month into their relationship, and she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could, seeing as they couldn't see each other as civilians.

That was the one part that really sucked.

Marinette sighed. "I know, Tikki. I just have to finish up this homework, it's due tomorrow."

Tikki fluttered around, and she knew the little kwami was thinking of ideas. "You could just take it with you."

She knew Tikki wouldn't have suggested the idea if she didn't think her identity was at stake. She was the one that always voiced the safety of identities. But Chat was a trustworthy partner, she knew he wouldn't peak, and Tikki knew that, too. "I know." She sighed. "I also know Chat wouldn't look, but the thought of bringing something so personal.."

"Marinette." Tikki's tone was understanding, but firm, unwavering. "As much as I worry a little from you two being together, if you're gonna be together, that means actually seeing each other. And you have so little of that now, why make it less when you can simply tell him that it's your homework and not to look."

The young designer knew she was right. "Yeah, true. Okay." She gathered her things and transformed in a flash.

Existing out her balcony, her excitement grew at the idea of seeing Chat.

Patrols may be their only thing considered as dates, but it was part of making the most of them and that was the best.

"And here I thought the only beautiful thing I would see tonight, were the stars from the heavens above, but then my girlfriend appeared and put them all to shame."

Said girlfriend rolled her eyes and skidded forward plopping down next to Chat, crossing her legs in front of her, settling her backpack into her lap before she leaned in sideways to press a kiss to his lips in greeting. "You are too cheesy sometimes, kitty."

He chuckled. "Nah, that's Plagg. He's too cheesy. I'm just the right amount."

She snorted, leaning into him as an arm fell to wrap around her waist. "How is Plagg by the way? I haven't seen him since Style Queen and that was a while ago."

Chat always told her how he loved her laugh, but she knew it had nothing on his. Her heart squeezed and expanded, almost knocking out her lungs, everytime. She hoped to hear it more often. "He's good. Demanding his cheese like usual. How's your kwami…?"

"Tikki." She supplied.

He nodded. "Tikki. How's she doing?"

Ladybug smiled as she cuddled closer, and was beyond pleased when she was rewarded with a small pur that began to vibrate from his chest. "She's good. Loves her sweets, but she's even sweeter than them."

If she thought his laugh was amazing, and his purring calming, it was beyond anything she could explain when both were happening. "She sounds pretty awesome. Wanna trade?"

She reached up blindly to boop his nose. "Nope," she laughed at his grumble of playful disappointment. "But she is the reason I decided not to cancel tonight."

He stiffened, and realized her bad choice of words. "Nothing because of you, kitty. I had homework," She hastily amended, "and I'm wary about bringing something like this by you, but I trust you. Just.. no looking."

They parted, and he nodded in understanding. "Of course, bugaboo. No worries." As if to emphasize his point, he covered his eyes. "See?" He said as he lifted his pinky to make sure he was looking, before lowering it back over his eyes. "Can't see a thing."

She covered her mouth to muffle the giggles, but a little still slipped through her finger cracks. "I know. But you don't have to cover your eyes. Just don't look down." He let his hand fall as she began to unzip the plain old backpack that she had stored away in her room. She was so thankful that she had it and it had nothing identifying her on it.

Pulling out her tablet, she paused as she realized that sitting in the position she was, would turn uncomfortable fast. She tapped his knee so he would part his leg, and have them on either side of the beam.

He did so without hesitation, and she turned her back to him, and scootched until she was snuggled comfortably against his chest. She could feel his chest contract at her touch, and she had to stifle her giggles before they got the better of her.

She turned her head halfway to get a sideways glance at him. "This okay, kitty?"

His body deflated as realized that this was okay, and she was happy within his space."Yeah." Chat's arms slipped securely around her waist, as she felt the little weight of his chin resting on top of her head. She could imagine him having his eyes closed so he couldn't see her homework below. "This is perfect, bugaboo."

Turned out, homework wasn't so bad, as she once thought.

An hour and a half later, and her homework was finished. Chat had actually helped with two physics questions that she just couldn't get down. Thankfully, they were pretty random questions and if he noticed them being anything similar to a possibility— because she had come to terms with the idea that there was a chance— he didn't say anything.

But what Ladybug did notice, was that he was a whizz at physics. Apparently, he had a knack for it, and loved it more than he let on. Which brought her to the question of if he might want to be a physic teacher one day.

That obviously stumped him as he openly gawked at her. It saddened her heart that that seemed to be the first time anyone really asked him that. "I… I don't know. Never really thought about it, honestly." He muttered.

Her frown drooped lower. Well, they were gonna have to change that, now weren't they? "What do you want to do?"

Chat's eyes went out onto the city as he really, for the first time in his life, thought about what he wanted. "I'm not sure. I've always been in the headspace that I'll be working for my father's company for a long time, and after that, he would be the one telling me where I'll be working or what I'll be doing with my life."

Her tongue clicked, and she felt the anger start to rise. "That's just not gonna do." She turned to face him, eyes deadlocked on his, and nothing but strong will dancing in the iris. "You, Chat Noir, have so many choices ahead. Whatever you wanna do, you're gonna do them for you. Be it, a physics teacher, swimming, basketball player, whatever."

His eyes held tears, but they didn't fall. "No one's ever given me that choice before."

She wanted to hurt whoever was supposed to care. "Well, now you do. Whatever you wanna do, for you." She brought her hands up to cup his face. "And I'll be there to support you all the way. That's a promise. Because whatever future has in store for us, we'll face it together."

His catty smirk wiped away the solum hold on his lips, and her heart nearly burst, because there was her kitty. "So, what you're saying, is that you see yourself in my future?"

Heat instantly flooded her face as she began to stutter. Dang, it. "I-I mean… of c-course. If.. you think.."

He laughed, drawing her into him and nuzzled her head. "You're something else, m'lady. Of course I see you next to me. Our future together. I do like the idea that. I know that while I may have other options, teaching sounds really cool."

She smiled as she dug her nose into his chest a little more. A few seconds later, and a yawn came barreling out of her mouth followed by a quiet sigh.

Because whenever she yawned, Chat knew. "Looks like a certain little bug is getting tired."

"No." She grumbled. Tightening her arms around his waist. "I want to stay here for a little while longer."

But he was insistent. "You need sleep, bug. C'mon. We'll see each other soon enough."

She huffed, but relinquished her hold and pulled back. "Fine." She stowed everything back into her backpack, and got ready to take off for home. "Stupid cat boyfriends and caring about their girlfriends." She mumbled under her breath.

He still heard her and laughed. "And, bug?" She turned back to look at him."Thank you. For making me realize I have options in my future, for always believing in me."

"Someone has to." She teased as she leaned up to press a tender kiss to his lips. "And I always will."

Lemme know your thoughts! Until next time! Lots of love!

#ladynoirjuly2019 #LadyNoir #ml #mlb #miraculous ladybug #love square

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atopearth · 6 years

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Final Fantasy X-2 HD Remaster Part 1 - Chapter 1 & 2 on YRP’s Adventures

I still think that for all the dress spheres, only the main ones (including the songstress) had effort put into it because I remember the rest being pretty ugly lmao. . Anyway! Always happy to see Rikku. Not too fond of her costume since she’s barely wearing anything LOL, but I guess it suits her despite that. Leblanc the thief dancing in the form of Yuna is still weird lol, I know she took her garment grid but does that make her take on her face etc too?? Lol, I never understood that. I always find it so funny to go touch the crouched Yuna wearing the moogle costume to heal your HP/MP hahaha. I remember everything about the introduction so not much to say besides, I wonder when Yuna learnt to use a gun? Still think Yuna’s Gunner costume is like female Tidus, but I guess since the focus of FFX-2 is her seeing a sphere of Shuyin thinking it’s Tidus so she goes around looking for similar spheres to see if she can somehow find him again, it’s a very fitting costume haha. Brother learning their language to communicate better with Yuna is so cute. Anyway, let’s see if I enjoy FFX-2! I don’t remember much about it but I remember thinking it was okay…hahaha.

I still remember the running after and beating Leblanc to the top of the Mt Gagazet ruin in a limited amount of time! I remember thinking it was so annoying because I was so lost the first time I did it, and the timer being annoying didn’t help hahaha. Think I missed one item but whatever, I got there with like plenty of time to spare XD The most memorable optional visit is definitely the Luca one, I think it’s so funny to see Yuna’s perspective of the beginning, since she had to hide in a moogle costume whilst Rikku and Paine dealt with Leblanc the thief haha. Yuna’s so expressive in her moogle costume that it was pretty funny. Dona and Barthello in Luca are as meh as usual, never been fond of Dona haha. Running through Mi'ihen highroad was dangg tiring though, so many battles loll, the encounter rate is high. Oh well, I guess I learn my skills that way.

I remember visiting the Youth League headquarters and talking to Maechen, he gives a nice little background on what happened in these two years and how the Youth League came to be so it’s worth a listen even if it’s a bit long. Considering that Clasko enjoyed taking care of chocobos, I’m not sure why he’s playing tour guide here, at least he follows us along on the airship after? LOL when he asks if he can come along and the no option is “sorry loser”, so mean hahahaha. I also remember the mission at the Moonflow where you have to protect the hypello from bandits! I remember failing in the past hahahaah, I guess I’m better now since I did it on the first try?

Gippal was and will always be my favourite new guy in FFX-2, Nooj and Baralai have always been pretty meh to me. Gippal is funny, cool and pretty cute. I guess alike others, I would ship him with Rikku hahaha. As the leader of the machine faction, he’s doing a lot of good for Spira as well since he’s helping to improve their lives, such as fixing the lightning rods in the Thunder Plains so that we’ll never need to dodge lightning ever again hahaha! I still remember Macalania Woods very well because I really love how ethereal it all looks and since Tidus and Yuna had their scene here, it’s hard to not think it’s a beautiful place. So really, thinking about how the Fayth not being here anymore is causing the woods to slowly die is just so saddening. It only adds to the sadness to see the once proud Guado be left scattered everywhere, hiding in Macalania and other places after not being able to fend off the Ronsos that came for revenge. Considering how much the Guado did in support for Seymour, it’s difficult to not hate them, nevertheless it’s still sad though.

The Calm Lands seem even more vast now, so many mini games but yeah omg, that publicity campaign for one of the companies there, I remember that! I remember thinking it was so annoying lol. Had to track my footsteps and go back to all the places I went to, just to talk to all these people to get those publicity points zzzz. Argent it is btw! Seeing Kimahri as elder is really nice, too bad his job is difficult so it’s hard to get the approval of everyone there, but he’s trying so I’m happy. Wakka and Lulu expecting a baby is all I remember about Besaid haha. It was bad of Yuna to leave without telling anyone but I think it was the right choice, it was about time Yuna got the freedom she could never have and explore the world she saved. I remember silly Wakka hoping to find a sphere of his parents so that he could see how he should act as a father, but really, he just needs to act how he thinks he should and learn from there, no one knows how to be a parent from the start.

Lol, Yuna and them were so happy to steal that awesome sphere from both New Yevon and the Youth League and then felt bad so decided to return it to one of them? Okay lol. I’d definitely choose to give it back to the Youth League, so thankfully you have to choose them to get the 100% completion. I mean, New Yevon just continues to hide things all the time, like all these spheres etc, how do they want people to trust them? Well, Beclem (the guy that lets you play gunners gauntlet) is such an ass, no respect for the person that brought about the Eternal Calm, actually, he’s got no basic respect for even her as a person, zzzz. Otherwise, gunners gauntlet is a pretty fun game, I’m not bothered to get the points but it’s cool to shoot fiends with different bullets haha. Shelinda being a reporter now is very fascinating… Considering that she’s left the temples because she didn’t want to be ordered around like a slave anymore, why does she still wear her temple garments? Where’s her makeover lol. Seeing Calli (the girl that was excited for the Calm in FFX on the Mi'ihen highroad) was nice, just because it really shows that time has passed and people had the room to grow up doing what they want. Not sure if chocobo rights are best argued by saying we should get to ride them throughout the highroad since I feel like they should roam free but okay lol. At least the chocobo catching game was a bit fun, seeing it surrender was so cute but saddening lol.

If Yuna really joined the Youth League and got a Yunie Squad, that would be so funny loll. But really, as a high summoner and the person who brought the Calm, I’d agree that she should stay as neutral as possible but side more with the Youth League just because they really do have Spira’s best interests at heart. Not sure what Tobli’s concert is for but if I get the profits, sure thing! Easy way of earning 12,500 gil, yay! The data seller at Guadosalam is cool too! Got 70,000 gil for selling the data to the right person! Could have kept restarting to hopefully get the 100,000 gil but I was too lazy hahaha. As for the Thunder Plains mini games with calibrating the towers though? I hated that, I remember the pain so well lmao. I could only do 6 towers and gave up lolol. Could probably do 7 but if I can’t do all 10 to get the ribbon, why bother? Hahaha, sorry my reaction speed and hand eye coordination just isn’t that great lol. I also want to preserve my sanity. We even got Tobli the musicians at Macalania! Really, Tobli, what are you even doing lmao. Still sad to see them talk about how Macalania Woods is nearing its end since the Fayth are gone… Seriously though, everyone needs help lol, even Clasko deciding to open up a chocobo branch needs YRP to clean out the monster arena and catch chocobos for him lmao. I really wonder what Clasko really did as a soldier if he can’t even clean up some fiends though…🤔 Oh well, whatever, as long as he’s happy lol.

Alike Yuna, seeing Zanarkand as a tourist spot never sat well with me, so if pairing up monkeys can make them multiply and cause a monkey problem that will prevent people from coming, I guess it’s good? Lol, nah, I don’t like the idea of Zanarkand filled with monkeys either lmao, can’t they just label it as a historical site to be preserved? Sigh. Lmao at the way Yuna holds the monkey when you’re pairing them up though, it’s like the Lion King🤣🤣 Seeing that YRP quite blatantly stole the Leblanc syndicate uniforms (and spheres!) at every encounter, you’d think Ormi and Logos would strengthen their security on the premises but nope, YRP easily infiltrates! Also, kinda disappointed in Yuna dipping in the hot spring on Ronso sacred grounds, Kimahri trusted her to understand that so I didn’t think she’d be like the Leblanc goons and do such a thing as well, so yeah… Anyway, Leblanc is so smitten with Nooj, I wonder if he likes her at all? Are they together? That massage game was weird though lolll, I swear FFX-2 has the weirdest mini games to complete. How would I know which part Leblanc wants me to massage?!? Yes, I kept cracking her bones LOL. Anyway, just wanted to say that I’m glad I don’t write walkthroughs because I’ve been steamrolling through these boss battles so I don’t even know what they really do lmao. Paine as a Festivalist, Rikku as a Psychic and Yuna as a Songstress is the team I’ve been levelling and it easily deals with everything besides any instant kill moves lol.

Hmmm so there’s some sort of machina at the bottom of Bevelle called Vegnagun that could destroy all of Spira… Wouldn’t it suck if Yuna brought the Eternal Calm but then they all get killed by this machine? Lol. At least Nooj is aware and hopes to disassemble it before anything happens, guess Gippal might give him a hand? Not sure what Baralai’s objectives are right now though~ I see, so Baralai thinks that Vegnagun is too dangerous and shouldn’t be touched, so he’s stopping everyone from approaching, which is fair enough, what if it activates because you come close or whatever, very risky. Otherwise, underground Bevelle was pretty annoying with all the jumping, operating machines in different ways to get chests, kinda confusing but I guess it’s probably worth it? Lol, always good to get a ribbon! Anyway, fighting Dark Bahamut was kinda saddening, not the way we wanted Yuna to see aeons again, since it wanted to kill them etc. I wonder what happened to Vegnagun and Nooj and Baralai? Where did they all go?

#final fantasy x-2 #final fantasy x 2

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genesisarclite · 6 years

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Water

a.k.a. the fic where Adam’s skin hunger finally gets the better of him. Luckily, Aria is there to help out.

Not a ton of editing on this one, but it’s coherent. Also, might make you sad, because Adam is recalling very painful memories. This is an entirely standalone fic, with no relation to anything else I’ve written. Enjoy.

When afternoon fully transitioned into evening and the chilly winter rain still pattered outside his blinds, Adam turned off all the lights in his apartment save for the ones in his kitchen, which he turned low enough to leave them as little more than a dreamlike, golden glow, and returned to the couch.

He was not alone tonight. He hadn’t been alone for several hours now, but his companion was a quiet one, content just to sit with him in comfortable silence. Their conversations wandered from work to pleasure to musings on the nature of their world, and she always had something to say. Thirty-two years of life, along with all the experiences that entailed during her years in the Marines, meant she had insight in ways he did not. Sometimes, she echoed his thoughts, always in the same soft voice she always spoke to him with.

Settling into the cushioned back a moment, he looked over at her, letting the sound of the rain fill the silence. Dimly lit, Aria had curled up half on her side, knees drawn close to her chest, having drifted into a doze. He didn’t know exactly how long she had been asleep, but though he knew the hour grew late and she had to leave eventually, he hesitated to wake her. The very thought of doing so was one that felt unpleasant. She looked completely at ease, unconcerned with the idea of sleeping in his presence, in his sanctuary.

That realization filled him with warmth and, also, a twinge of fear. He had grown accustomed to others being wary of him, keeping their distance, their hands to themselves.

But the time was past eight, and though it was a Friday, they both would be on call, even though it wasn’t required of them to go in at all. At the very least, she needed time to wake up enough to make her way safely home. They lived in the same district, but quite a distance apart, and he didn’t need her stumbling her way along.

He reached for her, and hesitated, eyeing the way the light glinted off the carbon fiber shell and gold joints of that hand.

Then, he shook himself out of it and took her shoulder gently. “Hey, Aria. Wake up.”

It took a few moments, but she soon stirred, eyelids fluttering. Long, thick, dark lashes stood in stark contrast to the pale skin and evidence of tiredness beneath her eyes, though her cheeks were touched with a soft pinkish hue he could just make out in the dim light. When her eyes flicked open, they moved to his, and as recognition settled in, her lips curved in a faint smile, and her eyes closed again. “Hey. How long I been asleep?”

“I’m not sure,” he said, leaving his hand where it was, resting on her shoulder. “Almost time to leave.”

“Kicking me out already?” Her eyes opened again.

“’Course not,” he said, thumb smoothing over her shoulder. “Just figured you want time to wake up.”

“Your couch is way too comfortable.” The words came out in a bit of a mumble, but the smile stayed on her lips, and the sight of it caused something deep inside him to tie itself into a knot.

His hand slid off her shoulder as she stretched her arms.

Aria didn’t say anything further for a minute, long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He had seen so many women over his lifetime, many of whom had been hopeless suitors, that he knew Aria couldn’t be counted among the conventionally beautiful. She was rather plain by most standards, with her round face and thick brows. Yet, as he studied her, watching her slowly unfold and work the kinks out of her joints, he realized she... wasn’t plain. Not to him. Not at all. She had smiled at him so much, had gazed at him with large, deep brown eyes thick with feeling, had always taken a moment of her time to talk with him or just listen, and been so happy to finally be invited here...

Aria was beautiful to him in ways he had trouble grasping... or, rather, didn’t want to. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman’s smile had made him feel so... comfortable.

“Why do you trust me?”

Aria looked at him, blinking rapidly a few times, the moment of bemusement on her face echoing his own. The question had not been conscious at all. “Huh?”

The words hung in midair between them, unable to be unspoken. “Why... do you trust me?”

More blinking. “Adam, you’re gonna have to make sense. I just woke up.” The light, teasing tone did little to assuage his nerves, and she must have noticed, for the smile faded and she sat up straighter. “Why do... you’re asking why I trust you?” Her head tilted slightly. “Where’d this come from, huh?”

“You’re... here, you know, asleep in my apartment. Less than five feet away.”

The haze of grogginess vanished from her eyes once she took a moment to rub them with both hands. “You haven’t given me a reason not to,” she said, brow furrowing. Confusion colored her voice. “What’s this about?”

His fingertips rubbed over one another. “Just a thought.”

“And I don’t buy that.” She turned toward him, legs folded up on the sofa, one arm at her side and the other resting beside her head. Open language, he knew. No fear. Nothing but curiosity and confusion, the very things he heard in her voice. Even when he triggered CASIE for a passive reading, that was still all he got out of her. There really was nothing more to her than what he saw. “Come on, Adam, give me something.”

For a moment, he thought of sleepless nights and pacing restlessly, battling his own thoughts and trying not to let them wander. He was more thoughtful now, often caught up in his own mind to the point of forgetting the world around him, and it drifted more frequently than he would like to forbidden places. It drifted to memories of soft sheets, of the soft cascade of a woman’s hair under his hand, of thin arms that felt strong around him, and no loneliness, never loneliness, the kind that ate away at him now, the kind that vanished when Aria came here and returned when she left.

Inside his own body, he felt trapped, the shell cold and smooth, untouched by the elements. There were days – most days – when he could forget it happened. Those were the days when he had so much to think about, and his body felt so worn, that he could sleep soon after his head hit the pillow. Those were the good days, when nothing mattered but the job, and he never had to think about anything but his work and the state of the world.

The bad days were less frequent. Those were the days when he stayed awake in bed, eyes closed but mind raging, and his skin felt cold. Those days, he could feel the ghost of a woman’s arms around him, but there was no pressure and no warmth, and his body screamed for both, but no one could actually hear, and he wouldn’t let them, he couldn’t, because it was a bitterness few could understand, a physical pain he was ashamed to know so intimately. Distractions wrought by his own body, longing for a touch he hadn’t felt in years, were not needed, not now, not when he had a job to do, not when so many people counted on him and needed him and–

But in the space of a few heartbeats, her steady gaze wore him down, and he could feel it pressing against the very high walls he had carefully constructed. Letting her in was out of the question, of course, but even though he knew better, even though he knew there were few he could trust...

“I never told you how I got these augs, right? Just that they saved my life?”

No. Not that. Not that. But he couldn’t undo the words, and as she leaned her head against a hand, never taking her eyes – her natural eyes that further tied his heart into more knots – off his, he knew, already, he had made a terrible mistake.

“No, you didn’t.”

“And... you never asked.”

“I was curious, sure, but it was your story to tell. I was never going to ask.” Pause. “Probably.”

He wanted to tell someone. Only a handful of people knew the truth, and he hated the truth, he hated being reminded that his body wasn’t really his own, that it had been violated and torn apart in ways that still sometimes made it hard to sleep at night and only now was he learning to accept.

That was a door he wanted to open and didn’t, wanted to tell someone but couldn’t.

His mouth betrayed him. “That was only kind of true.”

“Only...” The furrows deepened. “...kind of?”

She was listening. She was listening, really listening, and wanted to know the answer. The ghostly arms were around him again, reminding him of small things – human things – he no longer had. Even now, after all her visits, he kept his torso covered in her presence. Everyone who saw the true extent of what had happened were appalled, or saddened, or they were responsible, and they couldn’t look at it. Augmentations were ugly now, even the cutting-edge ones he sported alongside the mysterious experiments that had been carefully shoved in beside them.

“I worked for Sarif Industries. Think you knew that already.” He leaned forward, arms dangling off his knees, the loose-fitting fabric of the shirt skating across his skin. It felt more noticeable than usual. “There was an attack, and I went down to try and contain it. They got through all our– my security measures. Knew exactly where to go. They were after some... research the company was working on.”

Patient X. The key to universal augmentation. The whole reason he had ended up in this personal hell.

“They were... there were three of them.” He looked at her now. “All heavily augmented. I got through the labs, and was ambushed by the leader. Pitched me through plate glass.”

Aria flinched, one hand coming briefly up to her lips before her fingers curled up tight. For a moment, he just gazed back at her, the memory – of so many bones in his body cracking as he impacted glass stout enough to withstand heavy blows under normal conditions – cold in his blood. He looked away again, at the darkened television panel, but didn’t really see it.

“The only parts that needed replacing were my left arm and chest cavity. Both of them were full of glass, and the bones were wrecked. I also got shot point-blank in the head. Next thing I know, I’m waking up in the recovery room of a LIMB clinic, in a body I didn’t recognize. I was scared.”

There was no emotion at all in his voice. That fact frightened him more than the memory. Why did he feel nothing? He could remember the rage and fear at the first sight of his reflection, and a fist of metal flying out so fast that he hadn’t even been sure he had commanded it, turning the mirror into shards that scattered across the counter, leaving his reflection as though seen through a prism. It had caused building security to be called on him due to a “possible domestic dispute”, only to find him alone with a shattered mirror and crack in the wall behind it.

No one had said much. Building management had chided him for it, but replaced his mirror less than three days later with one almost exactly like it.

He had tried to drink himself into a stupor, took one look at his nude body in the new mirror – scarred, healing, an ugly fusion of metal and flesh he didn’t know anymore – and tried to hold back, before his body had reacted before he could, breaking the flawless surface into dozens of shards. This time, they didn’t fall, but he had, collapsing on the floor in shame and trying – and failing – not to cry.

He couldn’t get drunk anymore. He had found that out quickly. If he slammed enough alcohol quickly enough, he could get a buzz, but it never lasted, his Sentinel system dutifully scrubbing all the chemicals before they even reached his liver. Even cigarettes did little except leave a sour taste on his tongue.

Management had replaced his mirror again, after a week this time, and warned him against doing it again. For their sake, and for that of his neighbors, he just... didn’t look at himself anymore. The last time he had broken the mirror in a fit of pain and rage, it had never been replaced.

But he didn’t tell her any of that. Though the words crawled up onto his tongue and demanded to be allowed out, he kept them tucked behind his teeth. Adam Jensen was not the time to pity himself, and he was not about to allow anyone else to do so. What had happened to him was no one’s business but his own.

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself. “It took six months for me to have any real control. Six months of leave. And that’s all it took. A lot of people take longer, but my body adopted fast, like I was born with my augs. I didn’t find out why until... later.” He looked at his hands – carbon-black, well-crafted machines that didn’t bother him anymore. Not like they used to. “Then I was back on the job, and didn’t get a chance to stop and think after.”

There was a long period of silence filled only by the pattering rain. Not wanting to look at her just yet, he kept studying the back of one hand, watching the light shift across the scuffed gold joints and pitted black shell. For as quiet as she was, he might as well have been alone.

When she finally did speak, her voice was so soft, he barely heard it. “I’m... so sorry, Adam. They... you didn’t have... you just... woke up like this. I can’t imagine. I can’t.”

He shrugged, but it didn’t come off as confident as he would have liked. “It’s what it is.”

Another pause, then, “Why tell me this, now?”

“I...” He hesitated, not trusting himself to speak. The words still caught up inside threatened to come tumbling out, so he stood instead, moving around to the other side of the coffee table and folding his arms. He could stand how he looked now, but he didn’t see the elegance and beauty that everyone said Sarif’s work exuded. All he could see was an Aug, something fetishised, hated, or feared, sometime all at once.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, but you really want to, don’t you?”

He turned enough to look at her, trying to keep his face a mask of perfect stoicism, but knew he had failed when he saw concern deepen the lines of her face. For a moment, he considered lying, or half-lying, hoping it would be enough, but no, she actually cared what the answer was, and she would be able to tell.

He felt exposed and vulnerable.

Though he couldn’t really explain what drove him to do so, he grasped the hem of the shirt and pulled it up over his head. Slightly humid, cool air washed over his skin, causing goosebumps, and he bundled the shirt and tossed it into the corner of the sofa. She would be able to see the near-full extent of his augs now – the evidence of a chassis under the skin of his chest, the hideous fusion of carbon fiber and pale skin at each shoulder – but she couldn’t see the scars left when he was disemboweled by the glass, or the slash across his face from the same.

Those were all gone. He was the ideal poster boy now, a perfect symbiosis of technology and mankind, one of the very last remnants of a golden age that would never return.

“There. This is what they did to me.” Though he felt a strong urge to cover himself and retreat into the shadows, he forced himself to stay still. He was completely vulnerable now, in a way he hadn’t been in years. It was one thing to talk to David Sarif, who had witnessed the entire surgery firsthand, like this. It was quite another to stand in his apartment, in front of a woman, and wait to be judged.

Aria’s eyes stayed on his for a long time before finally moving downward. Her expression softened, and he noticed that her pulse had changed, increasing a touch, along with a hitch in her breathing and a... blush response?

Feeling heat on his skin, he switched CASIE off again.

“I never would have chosen to do this. Never. I worked at a company that would cover the costs of augmentations if you opted to get them, and I’d never do it. Wasn’t my thing. Didn’t care. But my...” Mentioning Megan seemed like a poor idea, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to make good judgment calls. “...ex-girlfriend had an experiment she’d stolen my DNA for, and she found out I’m immune to DDS.”

Her dark brown eyes flicked back up to his. “You don’t... need Neuropozene?”

“No, and it’s a long story, for another time.”

Again, her eyes wandered, and he felt self-conscious. The last time anyone had looked at him that way had been almost seven years ago now. Even in the red light district, the looks he got made him feel like a product waiting to be purchased.

“You’re–” The word came out, and then she stopped.

He studied her face in the dim light, watching her look down at her hands. One of them was cybernetic, of a different brand and style than his, and it entwined with her natural one as easily as if it too were made of flesh. “I’m... what?”

She shook her head. “Not something you...” A pause, then, “A man who sees himself the way you do probably... what I was going to say isn’t remotely appropriate.”

“There’s not much you can say I haven’t heard,” he said, quietly. “Just say it. You can’t hurt my feelings.”

The fingers tightened around each other. “It’s not that.”

“Then... what is it, Aria?” When she still didn’t respond, he sighed. “Just tell me.”

Finally, she lifted her head. “You’re beautiful.”

At a complete loss, he just stared at her. He thought he had heard everything. How hideous he was, how ugly, how pretty his augmentations were, how terrifying they were, how he was a robot and not a person, how he was at best half-human, how he could have butchered his body to do this instead.

She did not say his augs were beautiful. She had quite clearly said he was beautiful.

No one had ever made that distinction before.

“I’m... beautiful.” He echoed the words without understanding them, looking down at his hands again.

The silence lingered a long time before his eyes were called back to her by a soft intake of breath. “Adam,” she said, “come here a minute. Please?” She lightly patted the cushion beside her.

A prickle ran up his spine as he reminded himself of all the doors he shouldn’t open, but he did as she asked, sinking back down onto the sofa only an arm’s length from her. That didn’t last, because she moved closer, to within a forearm’s length, hands fiddling in her lap. She was dressed in a cap-sleeve shirt and long pants, having removed the jacket and sweater some time ago, and her hair was loose about her shoulders. Every detail of her body language and choice of clothes jumped out at him; he tried to relax, but couldn’t work the tension out of his body.

The last time a woman had been this close to him in a similar state of undress, she had been beating him bloody and senseless.

Aria raised a hand toward him, then stopped halfway to his shoulder. “Can I...?”

It was stupid. Senseless. Ridiculous. He didn’t need or want her pity, but when he looked at her large, unwavering eyes, all of his remaining pride dissipated like a wisp of smoke in a high wind.

So he nodded, slowly, just once.

Her cheeks darkened, as did her ears, as her hand landed on the place where his arm joined his heavily-modified, but still arguably natural, skin.

The response was so sudden and so long-forgotten that it scared him. A rush of feeling spread throughout his body, and the ghostly arms that had been wrapped around him abruptly vanished. His spine, once rigidly set, relaxed, and as a final betrayal, a soft sigh left his mouth, at the same time as his eyes fluttered closed. Warmth. Skin. A woman, touching him without any fear and no sign of disgust.

He already knew the significance behind her frequent smiles and taking time out of her day to say hello to him. He already knew what her wandering eyes and blush response had meant. None of this surprised him.

When her hand slid up over his shoulder, closer to his neck, it touched a sensitive nerve, sending a rush of pleasure through him – a response he hadn’t experienced in so long that it felt brand new to him. Frayed nerves made him want to bolt and hide in the shadows, but he opened his eyes instead, feeling her other hand coming to his other shoulder now, and they stopped where she crossed her wrists behind his neck.

“It’s beautiful work.” Both hands slid down his arms, thumb following a ridge of synthetic muscle. Her eyes stayed on one hand, seemingly oblivious to his gaze. “Always heard Sarif made good stuff, but I’ve never actually seen it in person, since it’s always expensive, I was told. You got some amazing tech.”

“Only the best for their chief of security,” he said, but the words came out too soft.

She looked up. “Should I stop?”

All he could manage was the barest whisper of the word “no”.

Her hands slid down, over his chest, stopping to run two fingertips over the support bar across his chest. She explored like a scientist would, tracing unnatural ridges and bolt points. “So they link here, and bolt underneath,” she murmured. “And this goes up... here?” As her hand rose again, to his neck, he curled his fingers against his palms – the thin skin of his neck was especially sensitive, always had been, and her innocuous wanderings were sending ripples of feeling and pleasure into his body, lighting every single nerve on fire.

She traced thin metal bars that partially protruded from his skin beside his natural tendons, and as she skated over the very thin skin that protected them, he sucked in a breath.

She stopped. “Oh, I’m... sorry. Th– do you want me to... not do that?”

The best answer, of course, was to tell her she needed to do exactly that. It was the smart thing to do... but the lightest touch of her fingertips made every nerve in his body come alive, and the sensation of being utterly overwhelmed was so powerful that, even though he knew better, he didn’t tell her what she needed to hear.

“It’s fine.” He looked at her, feeling his eyes and expression soften as the corner of his lips twitched. “Really.”

She blinked, then looked down at his left hand, resting on his thigh. Her right hand took it and raised it enough to let her fingers thread through his, then lowered it again to rest between them. Her other hand came up to one of the shield sheaths, close enough to his eye that he felt wary, but he didn’t flinch or pull away, trusting her to do him no harm, and she didn’t, more interested in the tech for the moment than anything else.

Then her fingers moved down, and he knew in an instant there was nothing innocuous or scientific about this time, as the tips moved to his lips, smoothed across, and lingered far longer than necessary.

Between them, his fingers tightened.

“You have such an interesting face,” she murmured, a faint, shy smile on her own lips now. “Ever since I saw your eyes, I thought they were so pretty. Maybe you don’t think so, but they are.”

His right arm pivoted on the elbow to bring his hand to her face. She wasn’t bothered at all by an unnatural hand smoothing across her cheek and into her hair, the strands soft against his fingertips. Both hands were packed with so many sensors that they almost perfectly mimicked the natural nerves that had been stolen, and as far as he could tell, the mimicry was good enough that he wouldn’t know the difference anymore. He felt every individual strand, a little coarse here and there, as they glided over the carbon fiber shell.

She leaned into his touch, eyes closing. “Don’t make me a one-time thing,” she whispered. “Don’t do this tonight, then not talk to me tomorrow, or let me come back. Don’t... touch me, and tell me things, and then act like it never happened. If that’s what’s going to happen, then stop doing it.”

Releasing her hand, he cradled her face in both of his. “Aria, I’ve got my reasons for not telling you, or anyone, much of anything. I can tell you this, though: I like you, and I’m not...” Trailing off into a sigh, he looked down at the sofa between them a moment. “You aren’t a ‘one-time thing’, not by a long shot.”

Large brown eyes met his, a hint of mischief in them; he tilted his head, trying to figure out what she was after, and soon got his answer when she slid both hands up from his stomach to his chest.

The sensation made every nerve in his body sing.

“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me what you did, and... you know, letting me do this.” Her fingertips pressed in a little harder; he focused on controlling his body’s reactions. It had been so many years since anyone had done this that he couldn’t just brush it off, and his body ached– no, hungered for her touch. The physical pain of going without human contact wasn’t something he enjoyed being so familiar with.

Hesitantly, he encircled her shoulders with both arms, and when she didn’t protest, instead lowering her head, he pulled her gently against him. Her head ended up resting in the crook of his neck, right where all his sensitive nerves ran, her breath whisking over his skin.

“You’re shaking,” she muttered into his neck. “Did I do something wrong?”

It was getting late, and she needed to leave eventually. As long as she wanted to stay here, curled up in his arms, though, he was perfectly at ease with not encouraging her to go. Even if this was as far as things went, it felt good to have a friend, and to have spoken what had been resting on his heart for so long now.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, and rested his head atop hers.

#deus ex #adam jensen #aria argento #skin hunger #deus ex: mankind divided #my writing #fluffy and angsty and all sappy all at once #*chucks this out and hides*#self-indulgent nonsense

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