#and despite them screwing up as composer they still got to keep their position but with a lot of restrictions and being monitored

[gramophoneturtle]

Another TWEWY OC introductory post! This is Null, who uses they/he pronouns, with a preference for they/them. Their modern design is a work in progress, but I'm quite satisfied with the top half and the (maybe platform) boots. They're about as tall as Mother with the current boots when she's wearing her usual footwear.

Null had another name a long time ago, but after allowing an awful incident to occur that Father spoke about in this history lesson due to their neglect and arrogance as the Composer at that time, Null was striped of their name from their own memory by the higher ranking Angels. Despite how Father might make it sound, Null is still around and has fully recovered. Sometime after Father moved away from working under Null, they gave up their Composer position and focused solely on researching and recovering lost Souls, unknown to Father.

I haven't decided if being striped of their name was a normal punishment or if it was something specific for Null, and if their name was not only removed from Null's memory but from everyone else's as well. If it's only Null, then revealing their old name would result in severe punishment. I also haven't decided whether Null chose the name "Null" to remind them of their errors, or if they were forbidden from picking a name. Losing their name affected them greatly and they're working hard to earn the blessing of a new name.

At the moment I don't have any plans for Null to be involved with the main events of the Healthy Dose of Chaos AU. They might show up after the potential chaos has occurred and visit a potentially injured Father due to those events. Despite Null and Father being on rough terms, Null still cares greatly for Father, and after hearing about Father's potential injuries from the AU's events, that is finally enough to spur Null to get over their avoidance and visit Father.

I've answered some questions about Null here for an October OC Q&A, but outside of that, they are still a work in progress.

[gumnut-logic]

It was the whimper that woke him.

The tent was warm, the heat cube doing a thorough job at staving off the ice cold of outside. The insulated material of the tent itself still rippled with the gust of arctic winds, the muted roar a continual background to everything.

But despite the winds, that soft whimper reached out in the dim light, wrapped around his heart and yanked.

Virgil sat up, the fog of sleep falling from him so abruptly it was dizzying. His brain came online throwing data at him - where he was, events up to now...who he was...

The aurora generator, Max, the Arctic...

Scott.

There was another whimper and Virgil shot to his feet, stumbling towards the sleeping form of his brother on the other side of the tent.

They had dozed while waiting, never willing to give up the opportunity to grab sleep when they could. Max ready to alert them the moment the way was clear.

His brother lay on his rack on his back, his expression one of anguish.

The sight hurt.

Virgil knew Scott had been struggling of late. The signs were all there. The recklessness, the urge to do and do and do. It tore at him, but Virgil was at a loss as to how to help.

He had tried everything he knew already and Scott continued to shrug him off, ignore his advice, his nudges. There had been moments where Virgil had thought he was going to lose his brother in the last year and he was fumbling to find a way to save him.

Save his brother.

The irony was painful.

Scott was a light sleeper. The man bounced from deep sleep to awake at the smallest nudge. The fact he was still caught in the nightmare despite Virgil’s movements was telling.

“Dad.” It was a recognisable whimper and Virgil couldn’t help but reach out.

A brush against his hair. Whispered. “Scott.”

His brother started, his eyes shooting open as he gasped awake. A frantic moment as they latched onto Virgil like a lifeline.

Hi hand continued to cradle his brother’s hair. “Hey.”

To Virgil’s astonishment, Scott blinked away tears as he obviously scrambled to compose himself. “Uh, Virgil.”

There were no words for a moment as the man threw himself into a seated position, rubbing his hands over his face.

Virgil fell back on his heels, giving his brother a moment to pull himself together.

“Want to talk about it?” Tentative and quiet.

“Not really.”

Silence and awkwardness for a moment.

“You mentioned Dad.”

Blue eyes shot at him and just for a moment there was a vulnerability there that shook Virgil to his core.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” To Virgil’s horror, Scott’s voice was shaking.

“Scott-“

“No, Virgil.”

“But-“

“No!”

Virgil’s lips thinned.

Scott turned away, running his hands through his hair. “Sorry, I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Please, just...don’t.”

The hand rubbing his face was unsteady.

If Virgil was honest with himself, seeing Scott like this scared him. Scott was his big brother, always strong, always there. He certainly wasn’t infallible, and there had been times in the past...they always left Virgil uncertain. He was ashamed to admit that he relied on Scott to be the strong one when things were falling apart.

If Scott was breaking under the pressure...

He swallowed and squared his shoulders. “You need some downtime.”

Scott spun to look at him. “What?”

“If you won’t talk about it, you need some time off to work things out.”

He shook his head. “No. No. Not possible.”

“It is.” Virgil sat on the floor staring up at his brother. “It won’t all collapse without you. We can manage.”

“Yeah, right.”

That caused an arched eyebrow, but to be honest, it wasn’t unexpected. “I’m glad you have so much confidence in me and our brothers.”

Blue eyes, stressed and obviously in pain stared at him.

“Talk to me, Scott.” It was a plea. “I don’t bite.”

“Not according to Gordon.”

He rolled his eyes. “He bit me first and you are not distracting me. Talk to me or I’ll ground you on medical grounds and you can talk to someone else.”

That got him. Scott straightened where he sat, anger flaring. “You can’t do that!”

“Just try me.” His lips thinned and he rammed his point home by staring his brother down.

Okay, proof that Scott wasn’t firing on all thrusters as Virgil won the staring contest, Scott’s eyes darting off to the left.

Soft. “I can’t.”

“You can.” The barest of smiles. “You’re my big brother, you can do anything.”

It was a gamble playing that card. It could trigger more stress at the reference to Scott’s position in the family or it could work as intended and bring back the memory of the first time Virgil had uttered those words.

He had only been around eight at the time and well and truly deep in hero worship of his big brother. Truth be told, he had never really lost that worship. It had changed over the years into more of a respect, but there was still that ingrained opinion that Scott was capable of doing so much.

At the time, it was a case of trying to get Gordon’s ball out of a tree. The two of them had been staring up at the ancient oak while Gordon screamed his preschool heart out at their feet. No adult was available and Virgil was too short to reach the lowest limb.

Scott wasn’t.

But they had been forbidden from climbing the tree with a threat of dire consequences.

But they had to get that ball. It was brand new, brought home from Dad’s latest business trip.

“You can do it, Scott. I’ll help you.”

The whole incident summed up their entire relationship. Scott leading, Virgil helping to make it happen.

“I’m not ten anymore, Virgil.”

“But you are still my big brother.” He reached up and placed his hands on Scott’s bowed shoulders. “You will always be our big brother. You don’t have to prove it by working yourself into the ground.” A pause. “Or by trying to kill yourself in the process.”

“I can’t...”

And there is was. A glimpse of truth.

Pushed away by stubbornness.

“I do what I have to do.”

Virgil’s hands tightened on his brother’s shoulders. “Then you will force me to do what I have to do, and ground you.”

“Virgil-“

“No! You listen to me. What happened to Dad wasn’t your fault! You’ve done everything humanly possible to find him, to carry his legacy, to keep us all afloat. But goddamnit, Scott, I won’t lose you like I lost Dad. I can’t do it!” His brother flinched, but Virgil had to push on. “I’m watching you fade away, day by day. And then you throw these stunts that terrify me. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve saved you over the last year? How many times seconds have counted? The uranium mine, Scott. You’d be dead. So fucking dead and then where would we be?!”

The tension in Virgil’s shoulders threatened to travel down his arms and just throttle his brother into understanding. “I’m not you, Scott. I can’t do this without you. And I can’t bear the thought...” He swallowed, taking control of himself. “If not for yourself in the short term, then do it for us. Take some time! And we can work out what you want for the long term. But please, please...just stop.”

Virgil found his heart thudding in his chest, his breath rasping with the urgency to get Scott to realise exactly what was at stake here. It was the expression in his brother’s eyes, wide and staring, a little fear in their depths, that shook the anger from him. There was a moment of pain, everything hanging in the air surrounding them like some life-sucking miasma, and Virgil grabbed his brother, yanking him into a desperate embrace.

It was a cling and he wasn’t sure if it was for himself or to reassure Scott, but either way, it was sorely needed.

Scott’s arms hesitated, but eventually wrapped around Virgil’s back, fingernails scratching against uniform fabric.

Uniform. Virgil’s eyes closed as his grip tightened and his head fell to Scott’s shoulder.

“Virg-“

“You’re more important.”

“I-“

“Please, Scott.”

His brother didn’t answer immediately, shifting in Virgil’s grip before gently tugging away.

Virgil let him go.

Scott wouldn’t look at him.

It was frightening to see his big brother like this.

“I...I think it is kind of ironic.” Scott’s voice was quiet.

A frown. “What?”

“That we are both afraid of the same thing.”

Virgil stared at him, no words, waiting.

His brother swallowed as if steeling himself before catching Virgil’s eyes. “I can get there first. If I can do what has to be done, I...you and the others don’t have to.” Blue eyes bled honesty and not a little fear, but Scott let out a desperate little laugh looking away. “I can’t lose you either.”

“God, Scott.” Virgil resisted the urge to grab and hug his brother again, instead resorting to grabbing his hand. “We are stronger together.”

Something broke and Scott’s face screwed up. “Virg, you weren’t there. He was...” Fingers were ripped out of Virgil’s grip and Scott buried his face in his hands. “He was just gone. I can’t...”

Virgil reached up and gently pulled those hands away. Scott’s face was strained and red where his hands had been jammed against his cheeks.

His eyes shone.

Words caught in Virgil’s throat. What could he say? That he and his brothers weren’t going to die? That everything was going to be all right?

He would be lying.

He couldn’t promise anything...any more than Scott could in kind.

“We could shut down International Rescue.” But the words hurt and Scott immediately tensed up.

“No. We do this for Dad. For Mom. For everyone who needs saving.” Simply saying the words put the spark back into his brother’s eyes. It was a mantra, a core philosophy, a reason why they did what they did.

“Then we do it together. We watch each other, protect each other and save each other. We do it together, Scott, and keep each other safe.” A swallow. “I need my big brother, not his sacrifice.”

Scott stared at him. One hand slipped from Virgil’s grip and reached for the side of his face. Gloved fingers brushed across his cheek bone, tangling in his hair.

Whispered. “Okay.”

The barest of smiles flickered across Virgil’s lips. “Thank you.”

And he was being pulled into a hug, Scott dragging him close. Virgil’s arms wrapped around his brother and for a long moment they simply held each other.

There was a tightness in his chest and Virgil had to blink several times to clear his vision.

Maybe this had worked. Maybe Scott would take the steps toward not risking his life so often. Please, God, keep him safe.

A particularly strong gust of wind shook the tent and broke the moment, the insulated material banging against the metal frame.

Scott pulled away and Virgil let him go, falling back onto his heels once again before creaking to his feet. Neither spoke as Virgil made his way back to his bunk. The whole conversation had been exhausting.

“Virgil?”

He turned back to his brother. Scott was still sitting on the edge of his bed. “You were wrong.”

What? God no.

“You do bite. You sink your teeth in and hang on until you get what you want.” Scott’s expression was solemn. “Thank you.”

Virgil smiled a little sadly at him. “I do what I have to do.”

-o-o-o-

[leviathanswingman]

love is a losing game, chapter 9: drop the guillotine

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7  , Chapter 8, Chapter 10

Lucifer felt a strange kind of peace he'd never felt before. Although perhaps, the words at peace weren't inherently correct to describe the sensation flooding his senses as he lay floating in the middle of a vantablack lake, surrounded by dark woods and even darker shadows.

He spread his fingers and let the murky water run through the gaps, relishing in the almost comforting feeling of forgiving liquid caressing his fingertips. Lucifer closed his eyes, but before he could even take his first deep breath, his body was already sinking to the ground and his lungs were slowly filling with gooey, bitter fluid. He tried to fight his way back to the surface, but his body was dragged to the ground by something bigger than life, a pillar of everything that could've been tied around his middle like a dead-weight.

Bubbles were escaping from his parted lips as he tried to take his last breath. Just as his body reached the murky ground, Lucifer noticed a light shining through the surface.

A hand, bright and colourful in this inky lake of nothingness, was reaching out to him and for some reason, Lucifer felt safe at once. Without any hesitation, he grabbed the hand tightly and felt himself being pulled up again.

With a startle, Lucifer awoke. Strands of hair were falling into his face as his body shot forwards and a drip of sweat ran down his temple. His breath came out in shallow gasps as one hand shot up towards his throat and the other gripped onto whatever was closest to him at the moment.

The room was spinning. His eyes darted back and forth as he took in the sight of his surroundings which were slowly coming to a halt, his heart beating ever so erratically. It took a few moments for his eyesight to clear up and become less disoriented again, but once it did, Lucifer felt the urgent need to curse.

He seemed to be sitting on some sort of examination table in what appeared to be a home praxis.  

Sitting in front of him were two demons, one to his left, seemingly calm and composed, and the other to his right, looking dishevelled and upset. Doctor Naamah and Lord Diavolo.

Only now Lucifer realized that in his post wake up panic, he had grabbed onto Diavolo's forearm and to this moment hadn't let go of it. There were two possibilities as to what had happened: either his body had automatically sought out the most familiar thing in the room or that cursed bonding mark had detected the presence of its origin and grabbed onto it the second Lucifer's self control had slipped.

At once, Lucifer opened his hand and released his grip. For the shortest of moments, Diavolo and his eyes met. There was a certain question in those golden eyes, wet and slick, undeniably obvious and on full display. It was in this exact moment that Lucifer realized that his cover had officially and irrevocably been blown.

But instead of worrying about the chaos that would inevitably follow that realization, Lucifer decided to worry about his current situation first. When he tried to focus, he could still remember the strange aftertaste of an unfortunate dream, but not what had brought him to this place. His memory felt uncomfortably woozy and blotchy.

„Lucifer!“ Diavolo leant forward zealously, desperate and relieved at the same time. Without any hesitation, he grabbed Lucifer by the shoulders and pulled him towards his body, hugging him tightly, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed close.

Despite everything, Lucifer could not help himself. After all -he realized disgruntledly- he was still bonded with Diavolo. Although he tried to deny his advances and refused to melt into the demon's touch, Lucifer felt comforted by the sudden and unexpected physical contact. Yet still, no matter how much his body wanted this, he couldn't allow this to happen, no matter what.

“You can let go now,” he brought out and to his luck, Diavolo obeyed.

Lucifer's breath came out heavy and shallow as he tried to collect himself. His mind and body were at war, entangled in a ferocious battle with no victor in sight. No matter how much he desired to be with Diavolo, realistically he knew that he couldn't afford a luxury this expensive.

With every breath he took, Lucifer's chest rose and sank in an irregular rhythm. It took him another moment to take in his surroundings and relax considerably.

The first thing he had to do was figure out what exactly had happened after he had passed out and hit the ground.

Following, and more importantly, he would have to figure out what exactly Diavolo now knew. After all, Lucifer knew the future demon king well, sometimes perhaps even a bit too well. There was no way he had ended up bringing Lucifer to the doctor himself without there having been a damn good reason for it. Otherwise, he would've just sent Barbatos.

„Diavolo, what in the name of-“ he started and tried to push himself up, only to immediately be pushed back onto the examination table by Diavolo.

„Rest,“ Doctor Naamah's voice came sounding from Lucifer's left.

„That really isn't necessary,“ Lucifer countered in the blink of an eye, having already made up his mind about leaving as quickly as possible. What he needed was space, since generally speaking, space gave him enough time to come up with new plans and even newer excuses. And new excuses, he desperately needed if he wanted to keep his little problem a secret.

Worried, Diavolo tightened his grip on Lucifer's shoulders. „Lucifer, don't be ridiculous. We need to-“

„Oh no, my lord. Let him do as he pleases, it's fine,“ Doctor Naamah countered without moving from her spot at Lucifer's side. „You'll see.“

Although Lucifer still felt dizzy and drowsy, he swung his legs over the edge of the examination table, placed them on the ground and pointedly ignored the way his head started to spin as he lifted his body from the mattress. „There is no need to worry, I can handle myself.“

Diavolo, apparently unsure of what to do with his hands, simply watched him with that strange expression on his face. „You are pushing yourself, aren't you? Come, sit back down again, please,“ he threw in. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, whenever he looked at Lucifer and remembered the sight of that tainted sigil, he felt shivers run down his spine. Why had he been so hell-bent on hiding it? Wasn't Diavolo one of his most trusted companions?

„Although I appreciate your concern, I can assure you I am more than alright,“ Lucifer said stoically.

„More than alright? Lucifer, correct me if I'm wrong here, but being unconscious doesn't really classify as being even remotely alright in my book!“ Diavolo replied, frustrated. All he wanted was for Lucifer to get some rest so he could heal and finally be back in his life again. Perhaps this was a selfish thought, but Diavolo didn't feel all too guilty about having had it. He was long past the point of denying that he wanted to keep Lucifer all to himself.

Lucifer threw him a quick glance, opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, apparently having changed his mind. He crossed his arms, stood up quickly and before he could  even take as much as a step, he started to sway and almost took another swan dive if it hadn't been for Diavolo's quick reflexes.

Diavolo had leapt up from his chair and pulled Lucifer close to his chest, his own arms crossed safely over Lucifer's shoulders as they both took a tumble to the ground.

„See? I knew he wouldn't listen no matter what. Some people need to learn the hard way,“ Doctor Naamah said as she pushed her bangs aside, pinched the bridge of her nose and watched Diavolo pull Lucifer up with him again. „He's got a concussion, but he'll be alright as long as he gets enough rest and doesn't overexert himself.“

„A concussion?! There must be something you can do about that, right?! As long as it makes him all good again! “

„There is no need to coddle me like-“

Diavolo pushed his hair back with shaking fingers. „You looked like you were bleeding out,“ he forced out between clenched teeth. “I thought you were dying. Will you hold me at fault for worrying about you?”

As they kept on bickering, Lucifer ever so kept together despite his head injury and compromised appearance, Diavolo riled up yet still composed, Doctor Naamah watched them.

She threw another glance at Lucifer, who was clearly struggling to keep his balance, looking bothered by his body's lack of cooperation. His right hand travelled up around  his neck until it stood at halt at the back of it, right where his tainted sigil was situated. He could most definitely feel that something was amiss.

Naamah watched her patient as he threw a glance at the demon prince and right in that moment, Naamah knew for a fact that she had been absolutely right in the assumption that Lucifer had bonded with none other than Lord Diavolo himself. She could see it in the way they looked at each other when they thought the other one wasn't paying attention. There was pure devotion in their eyes, the sort of foolish dedication one could only observe within fated lovers. However, Diavolo and Lucifer, no matter how powerful and smart they were, seemed to be utter fools when it was about love.

The doctor sighed. „Lord Diavolo, would you mind leaving us alone for a moment? There is something I need to discuss with Lucifer regarding his sigil.“

At the mention of the bonding mark Lucifer's shoulders tensed up and he pressed his lips together into a tight line. He threw Doctor Naamah a questioning look. „What happened to doctor patient confidentiality?“ he asked, breathing out sharply and rubbing his eyes in an exhausted, almost defeated manner.

Then, Diavolo suddenly chimed in. „She didn't break any laws, Lucifer. I saw your neck when she asked me to help her roll you over. There's no need to hide it anymore, I already know. I saw the sigil. I know this must be an awkward position for you to be in right now,“ he threw in, his voice quiet and soft, not upset anymore. However, there was a certain undertone to his voice that betrayed a sense of hurt, out of sight yet clearly not perfectly stashed away just yet. Although he tried very hard to be supportive and good, Diavolo felt crushed despite his good intentions. No matter how hard he tried to ignore his own feelings, the fact that he had always found Lucifer far too perfect and irresistible tainted his judgement like black ink on a clean sheet of paper.

An unreadable expression ran across Lucifer's face as his eyebrows furrowed and he averted his gaze. Diavolo could hear the way his heart-rate elevated in a matter of seconds. Was it something he said?

„Of course you do, Diavolo.“ Lucifer stated after a short moment of silence. „If you'll excuse us?“

With a short nod Diavolo exited the room, but his thoughts never left Lucifer's side. Something definitely felt off and he needed to find out what exactly that little something was.

As soon as the door fell closed, Lucifer exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumped and he almost immediately dropped his head into his opened palms. „Tell me what happened while I was unconscious. Fill me in, doctor,“ he mumbled as he dragged the palm of his hands down his face just to drop them into his lap. „Tell me what the fuck happened. How come Diavolo knows about my affliction? I thought I was more than clear about the secrecy of the matter.“

The doctor watched him with a careful eye. „And I thought I'd been more than clear about the importance of telling your partner about the bond, but it seems like you disregarded my advice anyway. This is no laughing matter, Lucifer. You know that.“

Naamah walked over to Lucifer and lifted her hand. Before she could so much as touch him, Lucifer gripped her wrist tightly. „What do you think you're doing?“ he brought out and the doctor simply sighed.

„I am going to check on your head wound again, okay? Which, by the way, is also the reason why you're here in the first place. Lord Diavolo carried you here, looking like a fresh corpse. You should thank him, you know that, right? Actually,“ she then added, „I think you owe him a bit more than just an apology. An explanation would be a good start.“

Quickly, Lucifer let go of Naamah's wrist and let her examine the wound on his forehead. For a moment, they both kept quiet as she did her work quickly and efficiently.

Eventually, Lucifer visibly deflated. Although he knew showing any sign of weakness was against his own moral compass, in this moment he knew he could allow himself a tiny moment of existential dread. After he felt a bit more calm again, Lucifer asked about the one thing that kept on haunting his mind. „Did you tell him?“

Naamah rummaged through a drawer before shutting it closed again. „I didn't have to. He saw your pact mark.“

Lucifer froze in place.

He had tried so hard to remain his composure, had removed himself from Diavolo whenever it was needed and had burned even the smallest inadequate thought about his superior down to a burnt crisp, yet in the end, none of his efforts had born any fruits.

In spite of all his efforts, Lucifer had failed ever so miserably. Although it was no laughing matter, he suddenly felt the inexplicable urge to break out in laughter. The strangest of sensations ran through his body, and before he knew what was going on, he felt the sigil burning hot against his flesh. Lucifer hissed and ran his cold fingers over the back of his neck. It was a wrong, feverish heat and all at once, he was nauseous to the core.

The doctor stopped in her tracks and watched Lucifer with a professional eye. „I wish I could be of more help, but there's only so much I can do. You probably know this already, but at this point your head wound is the most insignificant of your problems. You have a concussion, but except for that, you're doing alright. The real issue is your sigil. It's tainted.“

„Tainted? What is that supposed to mean?“

The paper on the examination table rustled eerily in the otherwise silent room as Lucifer adjusted his position.

„It means that you have to make a choice. Actually, it's a choice that's long overdue. If you don't act quickly your life will be in danger. Unclaimed bonding marks are no joke. Not even your body will be able to withstand this game of cat and mouse that you've been playing,“ Naamah said loud enough for only Lucifer to hear, but too quiet for it to echo through the room.

Although the door was closed the walls were still terribly thin, and knowing her wife, there was always the slightest chance that someone was secretly eavesdropping at the door.

„I am no fan of blaming my patients whatsoever, but if you had listened to me from the beginning, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. This is why communication is key. Switching between seeing your partner and avoiding him is literally the worst thing you could do in this situation, and I'm convinced this is exactly what happened here with you. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong though.“

„You-“ Lucifer started, but stopped himself before he could act irrationally, his hand clenched to a tight fist. Getting angry wouldn't solve anything. No matter how offended Lucifer felt by the way this daring doctor was talking to him, he had to admit that her honesty was refreshing. After all, no lies had been told until now.

Instead of choosing to stray as far away from Diavolo as possible, Lucifer had remained by his side -although reluctantly- and had toyed with the magimeds which were supposed to make his life easier and the symptoms better. He had never been one to dismiss the possibility of consequences to his actions, so this revelation nearly didn't shock him. Perhaps, he had seen it coming all along. Had he not been prepared to go down for Diavolo right from the beginning?

In the end, Lucifer was no ordinary demon. What killed others made him only more vicious. Like an abandoned mutt, he refused to go down purely out of spite.

Lucifer's eyes, lit up with a new, absurd sort of dedication, met with Naamah's. „There is nothing for me to correct there, doctor. You are right in your assumptions. There are certainly consequences for my mistakes, so tell me, how much time do you reckon I have left?“

The ticking of a clock echoed through the half-empty room. Lucifer carefully touched his forehead, right where the doctor had placed a band-aid on the already healing head wound.

Naamah simply stared at him incredulously for a few more moments. In the end, she resigned herself to a singular defeated sigh. She was more than used to headstrong demons. However, no demon could rival Lucifer when it was about being stubborn and proud. From the look on his face down to his posture, one thing was clear: there was no way in hell Lucifer would change his mind. By now, it was set.

„Depends on how careful you are. Rule of thumb is the more time you spend with your bond partner without having fulfilled the bond, the quicker the rot starts taking over your body. It's like a parasitic infection.“

Lucifer stroked his chin with his thumb and pointer. „Hm. Alright,“ he mumbled, clearly already lost in his own plans. „Alright.“ This could still go his way. This simply had to go his own way. After all, he was one to command and demand. He wouldn't just buckle under the pressure of fate. Whether it was life or death, whatever was to come would have to take him kicking and growling. Lucifer had never been one to capitulate nicely.

Upon seeing Lucifer's calculated reaction, Naamah knew at once that no matter what, he would neither listen to her nor change his plans.

„As your doctor, I can only advise against what you're about to do.“

Lucifer raised his eyebrows questioningly. „What exactly would that be now?“

She sighed. „I don't know any details, but it's practically written on your face that you've reached a decision. Be smart, Lucifer. Please.“

She received no answer. She had expected as much, but still felt her eye twitch in annoyance faced with this demon's stubbornness. With an exhausted sigh Naamah wiped her brow before walking over to the door, opening it and calling out. „You can come back in, Lord Diavolo! Oh, and could you bring my wife with you?“

As Diavolo walked in, closely followed by Preta, the doctor seemed to relax considerably. „Sweetheart, did you school Lord Diavolo thoroughly?“

Preta's curls bounced as she nodded her head. „Yep! Told him everything he needs to know 'bout caring for concussed patients!“

A tiny smile spread on the doctor's lips as she watched her ever so lively wife. „Thanks, dear.“ She focused back on Lucifer and Diavolo.

„You two should be ready to go. There is nothing left for me to do here, so all I can do is prescribe you a lot of rest and most of all, a break from work until I can fully clear you, you hear me?“

Lucifer crossed one leg over the other, the perfect image of power and strength if it weren't for his body's current weakness. „That certainly isn't necessary, doctor. I heal rather quickly. In the blink of an eye, this will have passed,“ he announced.

„Normally, yes. You, however, are a special case. Your body is preoccupied, so your healing rate is at an abnormally low level.“ She waved her hand towards Diavolo. „Which is why I asked my wife to give Lord Diavolo a quick rundown on what to look out for. Someone needs to keep an eye on you, and he seems more than capable.“

Lucifer stopped dead in his tracks.

Life was a circus and he was the underpaid ringmaster.

The sound of Diavolo's huge, leathery wings flapping in the night was closely followed by the sharp clacking of heels hitting solid ground.

„Diavolo?“

„Yeah?“

Lucifer cleared his throat abashedly. „You can let go of me. Have we not arrived?“

Diavolo's hands were still wound tightly around Lucifer's torso, holding him so close he could almost feel his heartbeat. How dearly he wished to be allowed to hold on forever.

„If you can stand I will let go of you,“ Diavolo said as he grabbed Lucifer's face with one hand and mustered it as if it were an open book.

After a short moment he slowly released Lucifer, who crossed his arms, turned his head away from Diavolo and huffed out a puff of air before he let his hand roam over the back of his neck. „Of course I can stand.“

„You have a concussion.“

„I merely slipped.“

Diavolo took in a deep breath, frustrated, and crossed his arms as well, accidentally mimicking Lucifer's pose. „Lucifer you almost bled out!“ he forced out and his voice came out louder and more upset than anticipated. He cleared his throat, took a miniscule break and stared at his right-hand man with glowing eyes. „You need to take better care of your health. If you won't I might find myself forced to do it for you.“ He paused, took a step forward and pushed Lucifer softly against the brick wall of the house of lamentation, one hand on Lucifer's shoulder, the other straight against the brick wall.

Lucifer didn't waver. He didn't break eye contact with Diavolo, both of them stubborn and headstrong. For a moment, all he could hear was his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. The sigil on the back of his neck felt like it was trying to burn through his bones, down into the very core of his being. Perhaps, it had already managed to do exactly that.

Lucifer grabbed Diavolo by the wrist, still not breaking eye contact. „I don't need pity. If this is why you're acting so strangely, don't. I can manage on my own. This whole situation is entirely my fault. You can drop your misplaced sense of duty, I don't need it,“ he brought out with an eerily calm composure. „I don't need anyone,“ he added, so quiet it was barely audible.

His body was warm under Diavolo's fingers and rigid against the wall. Perhaps, Lucifer allowed  himself the smallest of moments to think how it could be if things were different. He trampled those thoughts as quickly as they'd sprouted from his mind. Was he this weak already, weak enough to foolishly fall back into delusional daydreams? Things would never be different, not for him, never. Happiness had never been his to claim. The last of his childish hopes and dreams had went up in flames the moment his little sister went out like the purest of flames.

Not that he needed happiness. All he needed was himself. There was no one else he should have to rely on, he was plenty powerful already.

Suddenly, Lucifer felt himself brought back to reality as Diavolo straightened his back and took a step back. The air filled with the familiar scent of smoke as he changed out of his demon form and his majestic wings disappeared again. „Let's go inside.“

Lucifer kept quiet for another second, mentally reminding himself of all of the reasons why he shouldn't let Diavolo inside. Not after what had happened last time.

A tiny laugh escaped Lucifer's lips. „Just like that night, huh,“ he said quietly, his eyes travelling up to the starry sky. He felt the immature need to let out a good, strong curse word.

„Like what night?“

Instead of an answer, Lucifer let out a growl. His sigil was burning up and his head felt as if he'd had an unfortunate meeting with smooth alabaster tiles. Oh wait.

His eyebrows pulled together and his hand shot up to the back of his neck.

Of course, Diavolo noticed the change in Lucifer's behaviour. Hell, he'd watched him like a hawk ever since they had left the doctor's house. To be precise, Diavolo had watched Lucifer with that one particular look in his eyes ever since he'd woken up. It was a strange look to describe, after all, Diavolo was quite good at hiding his honest thoughts.

„Lucifer, are you alright?“ Diavolo asked, suddenly far too close again. He gripped Lucifer's shoulders, almost as if he was afraid he'd faint. Lucifer could feel his eye twitch with an onset of annoyance.

„You don't need to worry about me. I'm neither weak nor frail, Diavolo. I'm not going to shatter into pieces the moment you take your eyes off me.“

„That would be quite the foolish thing to think, wouldn't it? However-“

Diavolo put the palm of his hand onto Lucifer's forehead and held it there for a moment. It felt like hot coal against his cold skin. „You have a concussion and we've been out in the cold for far too long already. Let's get you inside.“

Irked by the sudden change of subject, Lucifer furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the demon prince, who still hadn't removed his hand. He stared at him for a moment or two, once again uncertain as to what exactly Diavolo's intentions were. Why would he still feel so comfortable around Lucifer, after everything that'd happened? And even more importantly, why didn't he feel the need to comment on the most pressing issue at hand: the fact that Lucifer had formed a bond with him by accident. After all, it wasn't like Lucifer had caught just a simple cold, no, he had done something unspeakable and highly inappropriate. Although unplanned, it was still completely and undeniably his fault.

Before Lucifer's traitorous mouth could slip and ask Diavolo right then and there about it, he caught himself. There was no need for it, after all. Diavolo didn't owe him any explanations after all. Pushing the prince's hand aside, he nodded his head. “As you wish,” he replied rather coldly and his fingers twitched restlessly.

The house of lamentation seemed to be as lively as usual. Even from the outside, you could tell that most of the brothers were still up and going. For that exact reason, per Lucifer's request, Diavolo and Lucifer were entering through the back door.

After all, they looked quite a mess and it wasn't an everyday occurrence for Lucifer to arrive, covered in dried blood, his forehead plastered with a stark white band-aid, followed by none other than Lord Diavolo himself, who refused to leave him alone.

So they had found themselves having to revert back to sneaking around like teenagers up way past their bedtime.

They turned corner after corner with Lucifer leading the way and luckily for them, they didn't cross ways with any of Lucifer's brothers until they had already arrived in front of Lucifer's room. Mammon just rounded the corner when Lucifer grabbed Diavolo by his tie and pulled him into the room. The door fell shut behind them with Lucifer still holding tightly onto his superior. As he realized the situation he'd put the both of them into, he quickly let go again.

“I apologize. I really don't want to risk any on my brothers seeing me like this right now.” With one hand, Lucifer pushed his hair back, and his fingers caught onto several strands of hair, glued together with dried blood. At once, he felt disgusting and dirty and unkempt. This was anything but seemly. However, nothing about his current situation was even remotely seemly whatsoever.

Diavolo, leaning against the door, watched Lucifer closely and noted the way Lucifer once again seemed to shiver in his thin turtleneck. Without any hesitation, Diavolo lit the fireplace with a snap of his fingers. Caught off guard, Lucifer looked up.

“You didn't have to do that,” he said.

“I know,” Diavolo answered with a small smile on his lips when in all honesty, he'd have preferred to embrace Lucifer until every single cell of his being was filled with Diavolo's fiery heat. But he couldn't allow himself to think in such ways.

“You also don't need to stay here. I am absolutely fine. You can leave, Diavolo. I don't need your help.”

“This, I don't agree with. Have you already forgotten what the good doctor told you?” A cheeky grin spread across Diavolo's face. “You can't get rid of me that easily, Lucifer. You're stuck with me until you're all better.”

Lucifer shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. All he wanted was to be left alone right now. It had been quite the adventurous evening and in addition to his pounding head and tingling sigil, his body felt tired and lethargic. He crossed the room, went over to his closet and pulled a few items out of one his neatly organized drawers, his back turned to Diavolo.

“I suppose there is no convincing you otherwise?”

Diavolo walked over to Lucifer, reached out to touch the side of Lucifer's face, but retracted his hand before it could make contact. Instead, he slapped his hand onto Lucifer's shoulder. “You know me too well, dear friend. Now let's get you lying down. Doctor's orders.”

A disgusted look rushed over Lucifer's face. “Diavolo...I hope you don't really expect me to lie down in my own dirt? I am practically bathed in blood. I am taking a shower.”

Lucifer turned to his bathroom, hand already on the doorknob. He stopped in his tracks as he sensed Diavolo following him. Of course. He took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“What if you collapse while you're in there? We can't have that now, can we? I'm coming with you.”

Today had already been embarrassing enough. What was a little more?

Lucifer allowed himself a minute more in the shower than he usually would. Today,  he had definitely earned this little luxury. Steam was rising around him as for the first time that day, he was able to allow himself to relax a bit. Streams of water, almost too hot in temperature, were falling onto him in thick droplets, cleansing him from head to toe. Lost in thought, Lucifer ran his fingers through his hair, back around to his neck, along the sharp edges of his shoulders.

Then, he heard the slightest movement from behind the shower curtain. “Lucifer?” Diavolo asked, loud and clear.

Lucifer held back the need to slam his head against the shower tiles. He couldn't risk a second concussion. “Surprisingly, I have not slipped and died, Diavolo,” he brought out instead as he turned off the water and opened the shower curtain. He wasn't worried about Diavolo seeing him naked whatsoever. After all, there wasn't anything he hadn't already seen before.

Diavolo was sitting cross-legged against the bathroom door, his eyes covered with both of his hands. The sight almost made Lucifer chuckle. Almost.

After Lucifer had dried off and changed into a silken bathrobe, he took some time to watch the demon prince for the smallest of moments, observed him as he sat against the door with his eyes shielded, ever so hell-bent on allowing Lucifer privacy while simultaneously pushing his boundaries in a way no one else would ever dare to.

The bonding mark twitched dangerously as he couldn't help but find Diavolo endearing. Suddenly, shadowy worms started crawling through Lucifer's skin, wriggling back and forth.

With quick strides, Lucifer walked over to the mirror hanging over the sink, turned around and dropped the bathrobe off his shoulders so that his neck was exposed. As his eyes fell upon the sigil, dark red and intimidating in appearance, encased with ink black roots and blotches, Lucifer couldn't help but let out a flurry of colourful curses, which alerted Diavolo immediately.

He jumped up as soon as he heard the sound leave Lucifer's lips, but stalled in his tracks as he saw Lucifer standing in front of the mirror, bathrobe slid off his shoulders, with his neck craned as he traced his fingers across the sigil Diavolo had only seen once before. The look on his face was unreadable, but certainly strange.

“Lucifer,” Diavolo finally started. He stepped closer to Lucifer, who quickly pulled up his bathrobe and retied it to look at least somewhat less dishevelled.

With shaking hands, he smoothed over the fabric of the bathrobe. “What is it?” he asked, his voice icier than usual. It was easy to see that this was a conversation he was not looking forward to have.

For a moment, Diavolo didn't know how to bring up that one specific topic. Although they were close friends, there had always been a certain boundary between the both of them. Now, he feared, if he continued this conversation, that boundary would inevitably crumble to the ground. Still, Diavolo couldn't forget the sight of Lucifer, limp on the ground, followed in quick succession by the close-up of a strangely familiar sigil, tainted black, on the nape of Lucifer's elegant neck.

And all of a sudden, just like that, the words that had been begging to be released left Diavolo's lips without much hesitation.

“Why didn't you say anything?”

Lucifer froze in his steps. Slowly, he turned around to Diavolo. What was he supposed to say? Suddenly, the damp air felt suffocating instead of comforting. The room was silent except for the dripping of water off the shower head. Although he was nothing near a coward, Lucifer would pay much money to be anywhere but here right now. He had known that sooner or later, he would have to explain himself. Still, that didn't make things easier.

Lucifer pushed wet strands of hair out of his face and forced himself to relax his shoulders. “Let's not do this here,” he said as he opened the door and looked back at Diavolo. He nodded his head towards the door and lead the way, arms crossed and mind far away, back to his room.

Lucifer and Diavolo were sitting on pure white armchairs near the fireplace, face to face. Lucifer was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, but the unnatural rigidity of his body betrayed his otherwise calm demeanour. Diavolo, on the other hand was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his sole focus the demon in front of him.

Lucifer took in a deep breath. “You were confused as to why I didn't say anything,” he started and let his hand travel upwards to touch the back of his neck again.

He hated that he had to do this. He hated that the right words failed to come out and seemed to be stuck in his throat. “After I found out about it, I decided to solve this problem by myself. I didn't want to burden you. After all, this is my problem. I didn't see why I should make it yours as well.”

Diavolo didn't move. The expression on his face was serious, mixed in with something else. “Lucifer,” he eventually said quietly. He stood up and crossed the small distance between the chairs. Without hesitation, he caught Lucifer's hands between his own and dropped down next to him. His eyes were big and pleading, shiny like ancient coins, as he looked up at his right-hand man. “What did I do?”

Confused, Lucifer stared down at Diavolo, his cheeks undeniably dusted with a red tint as he took in the sight of his superior on his knees before him. “What did you do?”

“I must've done something to make you distrust me. Otherwise, you would've come to me. How often do I have to tell you that you can rely on me as well?” As Diavolo held onto Lucifer's hands, he let his fingers glide along cold skin, drawing small patterns with his fingertips.

Lucifer's sigil sent a powerful shiver down his spine, almost painful in its intensity. “Diavolo, this is not your fault. I am to blame here. I am the one who overstepped, therefore I shall bear the fruits of my own weakness,” he mumbled, admittedly distracted by the way Diavolo's big hands felt on his own. This had to stop. “I am dealing with this.”

All of a sudden, Diavolo looked up. “But are you really? Shouldn't you be getting better by now?”

For a moment, Lucifer's eyes travelled across Diavolo's face, searching. Something felt off. Was Diavolo teasing him? Or was he perhaps mocking him?

The sigil sent painful shock waves through Lucifer's body and before he could stop himself, he flinched noticeably.

Concerned, Diavolo let go of his hands and raised his hand to Lucifer's neck, but before he could reach it, he was interrupted.

Lucifer had grabbed Diavolo's wrist and was now staring at him with an expression very close to shock. “Don't,” he stated plainly. He could feel inky black roots grow taller, could feel them crawl under his skin along his neck, down to his shoulders. His skin felt like it had been injected with poison.

“Please, just let me help you Lucifer. You don't have to do this all by yourself.”

And there it was again. Whenever he thought he had found a way out, Diavolo managed to pull him back down even further.

Before he could stop it, a sarcastic laugh escaped Lucifer's lips. “That is the entire point. I have to do this by myself, you should know that better than anyone else.”

“Lucifer, why should I-”

“But as usual, you have to stir up trouble and make this difficult for me.” Lucifer let go of Diavolo's hand and quickly stood up. He turned Diavolo his back. “Pray tell, how will you help me with my unclaimed bond?” There, he finally said it. The word felt raw and exposed in the air. “I can't even seem to keep my distance from you,” he forced out and rubbed the sigil. “And do you know what's even more preposterous? If I did, this problem could be solved quite easily!” Lucifer started pacing the room. “I have become such a fool,” he muttered.

Diavolo crossed the room in quick strides, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry. He grabbed Lucifer by the wrist and pulled him back around. “Lucifer, what are you talking about? What do I have to do with-”

Lucifer tried to pull his wrist free, but found himself unable to. His head was heavy and his body felt aflame. Then there was a certain emotion filling his heart that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Shame. He felt ashamed. If only he had managed to keep his emotions locked away in that little pandora's box in the back of his mind back then. But he just had to be selfish.

He looked up and his eyes, burning with humiliation, met with Diavolo's.

“Lucifer-”

“Don't feign ignorance,” he growled. “I know that doctor told you all about our bond.”

Diavolo stopped dead in his tracks and his grip around Lucifer's wrist loosened considerably. Did he just hear correctly?

“Our bond?” he asked quietly.

Lucifer used one arm to prop himself up against the wall as the pain in his neck suddenly doubled in intensity and his legs threatened to buckle. His breath came out ragged and heavy. “Whose else?”

Diavolo finally awoke from his momentary shock and looked back at Lucifer. His heart was beating wildly and his hands had started shaking again, but he ignored both in favour of rushing to Lucifer's side.

“I don't need your-”

“What are you talking about?!”

Lucifer's head shot up and his eyes locked with Diavolo's, his own confusion perfectly mirrored in Diavolo's facial expression. He remained silent.

After a few moments, Diavolo straightened his back and raised his head. His eyes were shining like liquid amber in the light of the fireplace as he pressed Lucifer against the wall. He helped him stand up, one arm supporting his waist while his other hand had gripped Lucifer's face.

Diavolo, with a beating heart and a mind upset at what had just been implied, finally asked the one question he had felt too reluctant to ask before, afraid to receive an answer he couldn't bear to hear.

“Lucifer. Who did you bond with?”

The ticking of an ancient clock filled the room as Lucifer stared at Diavolo's fiery expression, for the first time unable to deny what was fact.

“You.”

[that-damn-girl]

(1) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 5500+

Summery: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky's become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

Chapter type: Fluff, mutual pinning.

Chapter warning: Language, undressing (graphic), nudity(not graphic), NO smut in this chapter.

A/N: This is my submission for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ ‘s Merry Kismet Writing Challenge. Thanks for letting me participate! My prompt is, "There's only one bed". I took some inspiration from 'Spy Kids 2' and 'Charlie's Angeles'(2019). Hope I don't disappoint you and you enjoy it!

An unfortunate mix up of thoughts and words. A slip of tongue. It was a simple case of a slip of tongue, which created havoc in not only the building but also Bucky's life.

It was one of the few rare occasions when the entire team was around. Like a family, not by blood but by feelings and emotions. Though a few were lost to fate, some to distance, one to time, they stayed together. Available for each other, always there for each other. Loving each other, taunting each other. Helping each other, making each other stronger. Trusting each other, never to betray each other's trust.

You were one of them too, recruited when Sam was, the new Captain America, his other best friend and partner in crime. You helped Steve Rogers, the former Captain America, take down the parasite in S.H.I.E.L.D. Helped him get back his lost friend, fought the world beside him. Formed with him one of the few platonic relationships you knew you would cherish for life. Fought aliens, got dusted, and got back only to discover him gone to another century, without any chance of being recovered. A curse or a blessing, you were still to process.

Although hurt, the team was recovering. Together. New relationships were formed, old ones were mended. Some out of loneliness, some out of guilt. Some platonic, some not so much.

As the entire team was around, free of missions for a while, free of saving the world, free of helping build the lost world order, free of looking after everyone but themselves, they decided to have some fun. Drink and let loose amongst themselves. Be happy and make those around them happy. They decided on the forever classic, alcohol induced truth and dare.

They were a group of superheroes, some of them having been traveled to different planets even. It was safe to say they were daring. Very daring. So much so that hardly anyone chose 'truth', and the ones that did were bullied into taking 'dare'. More than half the group was composed of spies, assassins, and a mind reader. They knew more than half the truths anyway.

As the bottle spun, your age-old best friend's turn came. You dared Sam to twerk. A collection of oohs and aahs rose. Everyone wanted to know what the new America's Ass looked like in action.

"Aw, man! Don't you got something else?" He protested.

"Don't be a chicken, Sammy."

"Chicken, your ass." That was all the prompting he needed. He confidently walked to the center of the room, supported himself on his knees, and moved his hips in the sinful motion, jutting his ass out with some extra effort every time he went low. Oh, he twerked well, really well.

"Hey sweetcheeks, c'mon join in." and that was all the invitation you needed. None but he knew the true and raw magic in your hips. 

You went just as confidently and started twerking. You were the best of the best in this regard. The cheering you both received with your asses wiggling in the air was much more raunchier. You enjoyed the attention.

Bucky enjoyed the sight.

Bucky knew that things had become wild in the twenty-first century, but discovering that the obscene movements you and Sam did with your butts was accepted, enjoyed and encouraged openly was another shocking piece of information he had received. Not that he was complaining. If he had thought Sam did well, you were a whole another level of fineness in his eyes.

Enamoured as he was already with you, his eyes couldn't leave the enrapturing movement of your divine hips. He didn't understand how one could move their hips in such a flawless and mesmerizing manner.

He had meant to say, 'How the fuck do you do that?'. Somehow, he remembered that people today used 'do' as another term for 'fuck'. Somehow, the line re-entered his brain as, 'How the fuck do you fuck that?'. Most of his attention was on your hips. He was mostly unconscious of his thoughts at the moment. The end result?

"How do you fuck that?"

A pin drop silence followed. All eyes, wide and surprised, turned to Bucky. You and Sam stopped your ministrations and turned to him too. Bucky didn't understand why he became the center of attention all of a sudden. Until he did.

Oh shit.

A couple of days later, you and Bucky were sent on a last minute mission together. A group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents needed some more help. Well, actually, a lot of help. Fierce and flawless, you and Bucky were equivalent to a mini-army together. Fury sent the pair of you in.

With your much needed help, the mission was a success despite the initial slim chances. The agents returned to the headquarters in their respective modes of transportation. Ever the diligent, you and Bucky decided to do a final sweep of the area before abandoning the site.

You were glad you did, because you both found a man not much later, seemingly your rival and half dead, tapping right and left furiously on a small white octagonal box. With a gun raised, both of you stalked towards him soundlessly. Before you could do anything as you approached him, with a single final push of his thumb, an almost invisible forceful wave rolled out of the white box, throwing you off your feet and pushing Bucky significantly back.

You thought you had passed out for a second there. You felt dazed and your eardrums stung, the silence around you deafening. You looked around, tried to blink the haziness out of your eyes but couldn't. Your limbs felt heavy. It was a difficult work to will your body to  switch to an upright position. When you did, you saw Bucky at his knees, examining the unconscious man. Feeling nauseous and dizzy, you slowly made your way to him.

"Dead," Bucky said, sighing in disappointment. You looked around yourself. The force blast hadn't really disturbed anything other than yourselves in your sight. You needed to know why the man had his last breaths spent on operating that box instead of trying to run away for his life. Why had it caused what it did? What were the effects?

Feeling an impending doom, you asked, "What was it?" 

Bucky shrugged. He turned towards the white octagonal box which laid half split, a few electric sparks coming out of it. "What is that?"

"Never seen anything like it before." You said, pressuring your still fazed brain to recognize it. Deciding to take it in for S.H.I.E.L.D. to look into and identify what it was, you held the split pieces in your hands and after sweeping the area one more time, made your way back to the quinjet.

You couldn't get the ramp at the hind side to set down. Usually, your voice activation was enough, but FRIDAY did not respond no matter how much you spoke. You tried to manually open it through the control panel embedded in the suit of your forearm but found out that it had shut down. You asked Bucky to do it, whose own control panel was in a similar situation. You tried to contact the headquarters with your comms. The comms were rendered useless too. "That's weird."

After you couldn't even open the doors by the well-hidden mini control panel outside of the quinjet, you panicked. Never had this happened before, neither were you ever prepared for a situation like this.

Any and every electronic item in your reach didn't work. Had one or few of your wireless gadgets malfunctioned, you would have understood the force blast had caused it. But this? It was total abandonment by the technology you and your life heavily relied on. And none of it worked. You failed to understand how it had happened. What would you call it? An 'electronic blackout'?

Oh shitty shit.

Accepting that nothing would come out of your futile attempts, you and Bucky decided to look for shelter in the crisp winter air and over the two feet thick snow covered grounds. Whichever direction you craned your neck in, you'd only see towers of dark bottle green leaves atop white grounds, a gloomy atmosphere all around with the sun resting behind the thick clouds.

You tried to remember if there were any safe houses where you two were stranded. Nothing came to your mind. Feeling defeated and lost, you and Bucky kept walking in the direction he thought you could find civilization and help.

In time, the cold was getting to you. Bucky was a super soldier, but you were only a human. The suits you wore were made of a material meant to keep you warm despite being not much thick. However, they weren't made for the extreme conditions you were currently in. Your ears were exposed to the much chilly winds which kept a constant inflow of tremors down your spine, and your gloves were fingerless. You didn't realize it then that your boots had loosened, possibly due to the same force wave which had caused this blackout, and melted snow slipped down to your feet, worsening your state. You were screwed.

Nonetheless, you kept walking with arms wrapped around yourself, shivering continuously. Though the serum made Bucky much resistant to the cold than you, he wasn't immune to it. He didn't shiver, but his body felt the bite of the cold.

He noticed your shivering. He noticed you slowing down. You were taking much smaller steps, just following him, the unease from the cold not permitting you to think at all. He reached behind and pulled you to his side, wrapping his flesh arm around you and rubbing the parts of your arm accessible to him.

After the slip up a couple of days ago, the team had teased both him and you endlessly. They were brutal. He had apologized to you several times after that and explained what he had originally wanted to say. Honestly, you were heavily disappointed he didn't really mean it. It was just a slip up and nothing more, no matter how much you wished it were.

Unknown to you, Bucky did like you, more than a friend, more than a confidante, but didn't want to jeopardize your friendship. After losing Steve, he valued his close friendships even more. So he stuck to being friends, just friends.

As his arm comforted you, you leaned into him, the tempting warmth of his body inviting you. You only nodded when he said, "Hopefully, we'll find something here. It's gonna be okay." Your shoulder rested on his chest as you both walked along silently. You trusted him, so you followed his lead.

You walked for hours it seemed until he heard a frail dejected whisper, "Hey, Bucky," his gaze swept over, concerned. Your eyes were closed, body numb. He stopped walking and turned to you, holding your face in his flesh arm only.

"Hey, Y/N! Y/N, look at me. You're strong. We're gonna be ok, hmm?  Tell me what's wrong, sweety." Your eyes were still closed, but you were consciousness. You felt tired, really tired. He hadn't realized that for the last few minutes, Bucky was only dragging your semi conscious body with him.

You somehow willed your eye lids to open. Squinting at the inflow of light, you took him in. He looked scared, very scared.

"I don't think I can walk anymore, Bucky. Tired, so tired." The cold had gotten to you. Hours of walking against the wants of nature had gotten to you , especially after the dizziness you felt from the force wave which had thrown you off your feet. You were extremely exhausted.

"It's ok, we're gonna be okay!" He repeated the same lines over and over again, rubbing your face and arms in hopes to induce some warmth in your body . "We're gonna find a warm place, Y/N. We just need some more time."

Bucky looked around frantically, hoping to find a good enough spot for you, but all he saw was snow for miles and miles ahead in every direction. He stirred you to a nearby tree and leaned you against it.

"Y/N, Y/N look at me." he caressed your cheek, "I'm gonna run ahead and find us a place real quick, okay? You need to help me. Stay here for me, alright? Do not move. Do not fall asleep. We're gonna get you to a warm place, and there you can rest all you want."

Leaving you against the tree, trusting you to stand upright and not fall into the snow, he went out in search of a hospitable place. Bucky swore he had never run as fast as he did that day. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. The fear of something happening to you, of losing yet another friend, it did something to him. He thanked God for making him a super soldier, so that he could run as fast as he did. But then thinking of you, he damned God for not making you one, or so your life wouldn't have been in danger from such extreme cold.

After speeding through the thick layer of snow for miles, he found a cabin in a small clearing in the middle of nowhere, covered in snow all around. It definitely looked inhabitable. He climbed up the steps and was about to break the lock of the main door with his metal door but thought better of it. He looked under the door mat and above the door panel and found a spare key which opened the door. Idiots, he thought, but realised those idiots were the reason he had found shelter to keep you safe. Thanking his luck, something which he rarely did, he quickly ran back to fetch you.

Your limbs felt tied down to weights, your body felt numb and unresponsive. Your head ached mercilessly, and you shivered uncontrollably. Yet you leaned against the tree, fighting against yourself to stay upright. You didn't know if your were feeling sleepy from exhaustion or were slipping into unconsciousness from the cold. Either way, you tried not to close your eyes for long intervals.

Bucky found you in a much worse state than he had left you in. When he took a hold of your shoulders to drag you again, you gave out a soundless whine, only puffs of translucent white coming out of your mouth.

"Walk no more Bucky, no more." You couldn't walk anymore and you couldn't form a proper line either . Fearing your condition, Bucky panicked even more.

He put your hands securely around his neck, "Hold on tight, princess, okay? I found us a place. A warm place. Don't you worry , princess." He was more convincing himself than telling you.

You wordlessly nodded at him. He picked you up in his strong arms bridal style and jogged towards his destination, careful not to disrupt you much. Eyes closed again, your head lolled on his chest. You nuzzled closer to him, needing more of his warmth.

He looked down at you, eyes closed and brows furrowed, trying to keep the vicious cold out. You clutched onto him like your life depended on it. Well, it actually did.

"Just a few more moments, Y/N. Don't close your eyes, doll. C'mon, please don't." He knew he whined like a baby, but didn't care. "I need you to stay awake for me."

You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and sleep forever, but the desperate tone in his voice compelled you to open your eyes.

"Not sleeping, Buck. I'm awake." you assured him in a faint whisper.

"That's like my girl, Y/N." He leaned down and gently kissed your forehead. It was just a small peck, but it warmed you up more that his body did. Moreover, he had called you his girl. Oh, if only he knew how much you wanted to be his girl. It caused your heart rate to increase, swarming your insides a little with butterflies.

You knew you needed to keep your eyes open and not fall into the grasp of unconsciousness. You needed a distraction from the cold biting at your exposed skin. As far as you could see, you only had the never ending white snow, dull cloudy sky and Bucky's beautiful face in front of you. The latter was something you could gladly focus at endlessly. So you did.

You took in every feature of his charming face, how his dark hair contrasted his now pale skin, how the endless white around him brought out the majestic blue in his eyes, how his lips looked deliciously pink surrounded by his scruff, how much he looked like an angel - your saviour, your guardian.

Bucky sensed you staring at him and gently smiled at you. "Almost there, doll." Yeah, you could be his doll forever.

As soon as he reached the abandoned house, he carried you through the already unlocked main door and set you down on the worn out couch. It was cold, and all the body heat which you had acquired from Bucky went into the comfortable but cold surface of the couch. However, you couldn't do much except lay down and shiver, your mind blocking out all of your senses. 

None of the electronics seemed to work, so finding the radiator was a lost cause. Bucky glanced at the fireplace. Fortunately, there were enough logs to last a day if he used them smartly. He immediately put some logs inside the brick structure and fired them up. He only allowed himself to relish in the heat after he put aside the center table and pushed the couch which you sat upon closer to the source of blissful heat .

You looked nearly unconscious, wanting nothing than to give in to the seduction of sleep. Sighing, he moved towards you. Taking your hands in his, he said, "Doll, I told you I'd bring you to a warm place, didn't I?" He slowly, affectionately stroked your hair. "I'm gonna get you some food and warm clothes. Be right back before you know it." He brought your hands to his lips and kissed each once with considerable force. You moved your head in the slightest, which he could only assume was a nod.

You both were lucky you found a place to spend the night in. Bucky didn't know the exact time, but sensed it would be dark soon, and one look at the window confirmed his suspicions. Now all he had to do was keep you and him sound and safe until you figured out what to do about the situation and how to get back.

He looked around the house for its resources. The house looked old. The kitchen cabinets were somewhat adequately filled for a short stay and there was a separate gas cylinder and stove. Sure some of the items in the there were expired and the cylinder felt more than half empty when he lifted it, but he could make do with them. He had to.

The kitchen was directly behind the living room, and there were only one other room in the house. A bedroom with an attached bathroom. He quickly rummaged through the closets he saw and pulled out the only two single blankets and some warm clothes he could find.

He carried them to your considerably less shivering form. He knelt down and lifted your legs to open your boots. Finding your feet totally soaked, he cursed and dried them with a towel he had found. A new wave of warmth spread through you as you watched him fret over you.

He needed to get you out of the half soaked jumpsuit you wore. His own was soaked too, but you were more important at the moment.

He took your hands in his once again, "Y/N, princess, you need to get out of this wet suit." He helped your reluctant form into a sitting position and placed a few of the warm clothes in your lap.

"I'll be in the other room while you change, alright?" He turned to leave but you caught his wrist in your hand in a vice grip. He looked down at it and then your face, your eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness.

"Can you do it for me, Bucky?" Your soft voice asked him. You were too spent at the moment to remove a wet, sticky and skin tight suit from your body. Neither did you have the energy nor the patience. Lethargy had already nestled itself in you.

You didn't like it at all. Not the part where your brain registered that Bucky would touch you in a way he hadn't ever before. You hated the part where you so helpless. You were a grown ass woman, not needing anyone's help in your self-made life. However, as the adrenaline had rushed out of your body long ago, you couldn't care moving anymore after resting your limbs. Besides, it was Bucky you had asked help from. Not some arrogant prick, but your sweet Bucky.

He looked taken aback by your request, but gulping, he gently asked you, "Are you sure, Y/N?"

You took a moment to deeply look into his eyes before answering, "Yes Bucky, I trust you." His heart swelled.

Trust. What a simple thing it was. Could easily be broken by the ones you had known and trusted for longest in the blink of an eye, but took years upon years to form and strengthen. He knew not many people trusted him, the Winter Soldier inside him, which had become just as much of a part of him as his metal arm. But you did, and he reveled in it, his heart beating joyously.

He nodded and smiled at you once before his hands reached your zipper at the front of your jumpsuit. He pulled it down slowly and carefully. As soon as he saw the hint of your cleavage and the starting bulge of your breasts, he cast his eyes behind you after a second of taking it in, no matter how much he wanted to divulge in the sight of you, but kept pulling the zipper down until it reached its end. He was not going to take your advantage in anyway. He'd only take you in with your permission when you were as conscious as the day and not in the half unresponsive state you seemed to be in.

He pulled you up and stared to slide the fabric, which seemed to stick to your skin, down your shoulders. You rolled your shoulders back to help him. Warmth seeped in wherever he touched you, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin not only due to the cold but also for another reason entirely. He moved down and dragged your skinny jumpsuit off your legs.

You wore a pair of panties and sports bra beneath the suit, without any clasps. You needed to remove any and all the wet clothes off of you. Bucky didn't know what to do next. You made the decision for him.

You grasped his head and forced his eyes on yourself, "It's okay Bucky. I trust you."

He nodded again, heart thrumming loudly as he took the sides of your bra in his hands, careful not to touch your breasts, and lifted it up and over your head, all the while looking at your eyes which fought to stay open. He would never ever take advantage of you, no matter how easy it would be. The initial resistance which he felt in the upliftment of your bra due to the swell of your breasts made him blush, but he manged to move pass it. He had undressed many dames during his time, but you were the first after being free from HYDRA.

You only had enough energy to push your panties down and let gravity do the work. You lightly kicked them and your suit away after they pooled at your feet. Bucky tried very hard not to think about the beauty in front of him in all her glory. Many thoughts invaded his mind, most of them sinful ones. His inner demons clawed at his soul to get just a look, but god forbid he ever acted on them. You trusted him, he wasn't going to let that trust go. He immediately grabbed a shirt and a pair of thick sweats from the couch behind you and made you wear them, eyes never once straying from yours.

After he covered you up in more layers, he made you sit down wrapped up in a thick layer of the only two blankets. He freed your hair from your ponytail, ruffling it a little for you. He quickly changed in the only other room and made a soup with the ingredients he could find. It tasted shit, but all your cared about was the heat it provided and the appetite it fulfilled.

He spoon fed you as you sat on the couch, wrapped up in the blankets like a cocoon, hands holding them tight around you. He would blow off the excess heat for you before bringing them to your lips, and repeated it patiently, affectionately. You appreciated it very much.

After having some for himself, he slouched down on the couch beside you, finally relaxing. You were more aware of your senses now, having recovered from the cold and exhaustion you had felt earlier with some food inside you now. However, your headache still persisted. You felt sleepy still, but not to the degree you thought you would collapse like before.

You looked at Bucky, who was under a few warm cloths himself but without a blanket, eyes closed and head rested on top of the backrest. You realised it was only one of the few times you had seen him truly relax. He looked really peaceful. Calm and serene, almost like a harmless baby. And oh so handsome.

Without any second thoughts, you shifted closer to him, snuggling into him. You repositioned the blankets so that it engulfed you both.

"You need it more than I do, doll." He started to untangle himself but you held him close, "Just relax and come here, Bucky."

Still stimulated from earlier, Bucky desperately tried not to think of the unintentional pun you used, or he'd soon have a situation going on downwards.

You knees were tucked under your chin as your entire body leaned on Bucky, your head and one of your palms resting on his chest, drawing random patterns. His flesh arm came up and pulled you further into his side as it circled around your shoulder and rubbed your upper arm. The motion so soothing and the warmth from not only the fireplace but also Bucky so alluring, you thought you'd enter the land of gleeful dreams right there.

You felt wholesome in that moment. Maybe it was because of the close proximity only, maybe something more. Whatever it was, you wanted to enjoy it thoroughly.

Nostalgia had hit Bucky when he was taking care of you. An unqualified nurse? Bucky was certified for that, courtesy to his scrawny blonde friend back in the day. He took care of you as he had for his friend. A sense of responsibility, worry, genuine concern, all had been there, but there was something more too. Something he couldn't pinpoint. He had felt something tugging at his heart. He didn't know what, but it did. It made him nervous and excited all at once, but he didn't know what to make of it as the two of you sat in silence for long, drowned in your own thoughts.

Soon it was dark outside, the fireplace the only source of light. The atmosphere chilled even further. As Bucky came back to his place after adding more firewood, you immediately wrapped your arms around him, not liking the brief inflow of cool air when he had moved. You buried your head deep into his chest as much as you could from your position. He laughed. 

"Hey, Bucky," he hummed in response. You leaned away a bit to look straight into his blue grey eyes.

"Thank you for everything." You wanted to say so much more, but you felt overwhelmed.

Cupping your cheeks, he turned towards you, "No doll, you don't need to thank me for that. I'll always take care of ya, you know that right?"

You covered his palms and said, "No Bucky, you don't understand. I was thinking, wondering what would've happened if you weren't there. If I were alone..." The feminist in you didn't want to admit it, but you knew that was the truth at the moment.

"I couldn't even walk throughout. You carried me here, took care of me, changed me, fed me. You saved me today, Bucky. You saved me. If not for you..." Tears welled up in your eyes as you opened your mouth but nothing came out of it.

"Shh, shh, no honey," He hugged you tightly, rubbing your back, "You're safe, you're fine."

You sobbed into his neck, "God, I feel so pathetic, Bucky. You had to take care of me like a baby. I am a grown woman, an Avenger, for heaven's sake. Have been for years. I should've been stronger than that. And now I'm crying like a child." Somehow, the realization made you cry harder.

You didn't know why it was happening, why you were crying so hard. You've had near death experiences countless times before. Hell, you were even dusted, dead in a way, and brought back. This wasn't much life threatening. You were safe. You were alive. Yet you continued grieving what could've happened but didn't.

"Hey, hey, doll," with one hand under your knees, Bucky took placed your sniffing form on his lap sideways. You head was still in the crook of his neck and his arms embraced you, enveloping you, keeping you away from any fears you had, any regrets you had. He rocked you fondly, his cheek on your head.

"It was the blackout Y/N, it wasn't you." He comforted you, "Y/N, this wasn't our mission. Your mission was to back up our agents and you did, you did it perfectly doll. This...this is something none of us know about. It's well below freezing temperature outside. You can't win against the nature, doll."

He rocked you and whispered soothing words until you had calmed down. You weren't sure why you did that. Bucky and you had always been close, just like you and Sam. You confided in each other, supported and comforted each other. If you ever did show your vulnerable side, it was only in front of them. But it hardly ever came down to this.

"Sorry Bucky, you had to see that," you pulled back a little to look at him. He wiped your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. His nonjudgmental eyes looked at you, an understanding smile on his face.

"Doll, it's okay. You've let it all out, it's good. You feeling alright now?" Although you still felt a little embarrassed by it, you mumbled out a small, "Yeah."

"Fuck the snow for snow for making you cry." You replied, "How do you fuck that?" You both laughed a little.

Lost in your eyes, his hand moved from caressing your cheeks to caressing your tender neck. You looked up at him but were unable to focus on any single feature of his. His eyes, so soft; his smile, so pure; his lips, so juicy.

You tucked a few strands of his hair behind his ear, your palm on his cheek. Bucky felt his heart dance around his chest. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he unknowingly moved his head following the descent of your eyes and you pecked the corner of his lips.

Unsure of what to do about it, you dropped your head in the crook of his neck, as if it were normal for friends to go around kissing the corner of each others mouth. It wasn't. But you thought that if Bucky had a problem, he'd say something. He didn't.

Bucky didn't know if he was more remorseful or thankful for not fully turning his face and having your soft, luscious lips right on his.

It was then when all his nicknames started coming to you. Sure, he'd use them, but it was rare. That day you had heard more nicknames from him than you had in the entirety of your friendship. Doll, princess, sweetheart, honey... Not having heard those from this man before, in his sweet yet hard voice before. It did things to you, made your heart pound faster, your core heat up.

It was also then that you noticed one thing other than his strong and broad thighs beneath you. You leaning into him, him feeling your breasts pressed to the side of his chest, him taking in your sweet scent, it woke his nervous system. Moreover, in rocking you, Bucky had also rocked the nerves down there, the stimulus encouraging an inflow of blood, making not only his penis hard but also harder to hide it from you.

He prayed to heaven's that you didn't notice. You did, but you tried to make no indication that you did. However, he understood from the way you stiffened atop him that you did notice it. He was convinced that you'd hate him now.

Feeling immensely embarrassed, he unceremoniously stood up and dropped you on the couch.

"Uh, I'll just, uh, I'll just set up the fireplace in the bedroom. It's been a long day." He wiped his sweaty palms on his bottoms and bolted out of the living room.

You were low-key in shock. You desperately hoped you made him hard, but your rational side told you it was just because of the physical contact. He'd be in the same situation even if it were somebody else. Your presence didn't really matter to him. The thought made you physically hurt.

As Bucky set up the fireplace in the bedroom, it then struck to his mind. There was only one bedroom, which meant there was only one bed. He glanced at the queen sized bed  bed behind him and then at his raging boner. Somewhere in the back of his head, he could hear Sam roaring with laughter at his predicament. 

He knew it was going to be a long, long night.

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway​

Chapter 2

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A/N: Thanks for reading! There is going to be lots of soft!bucky cuddling and pinning in the upcoming chapters, I don't live in a place where it snows and I don't really know how people hold up or how the houses actually are in such places. Sorry for the inaccuracies you find. Good or bad, your feedback is always welcome!

[im-whatchamccallit]

Their S/O Helping with Their Music//3Racha

(A/N: This is based on the Hongjoong+Mingi reactions I did two days ago if you’d like to read those. Also, I have a notification for an extra message in my ask box but nothing shows up. So if you requested something, and have been waiting forever for it, I’m sorry but I literally can’t find it. But please feel free to request again!)

Let me preface by saying 3Racha have a great work dynamic, mainly because they’re all proficient, if not experts, when it comes to music. Because they all know what to do and how to do it, everything is fun and effortless. That being said, let’s talk about why 3Racha would be STRESSED having their s/o try to help them make music.

For starters, Chris would say yes to your offer to help. He thought it’d be a cute, fun, nice couplely activity to do together. But Chris is also very serious about his music, so watching you nearly screw up the melodies and beats he spent weeks making was enough to give him a panic attack.

Chris would ask you to just write some lyrics for the song, giving you a basic idea of what the comeback would be and the vibe he needs the lyrics to fit, honestly just needing you to not screw anything else up. And, thankfully, you didn’t this time. Sure, the lyrics needed a bit of touching up, being a bit too romantic for a song about spiraling into the deep, dark abyss we call life but, dammit, he was proud of you.

He’d feel bad that writing is all you’ve done since you got there, knowing you wanted to contribute a lot more, but being a complete novice in a room with nearly completed songs that only needed editing was dangerous. Chris would push aside that project and start a new one, ushering you over so that he can teach you the basics, giving you the opportunity to create a song of your own now that it’s clear Chris doesn’t really need the help.

Was he stressed out because it took you 3 hours to understand the difference between a mixer and controller? Yes.

Would he ever let you come back to help him again? Maybe, but only when they were on a break and didn’t have to focus on deadlines and promotions.

Changbin is a lot less lenient than Chris. You learned that the first time you visited him at the studio, only to be scolded as if you were a random person that broke into his home, and that’s when you learned the most important rule of working with Changbin:

HE IS SPEAR B WHEN HE’S IN THE STUDIO AND SPEAR B IS NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND!

Spear B doesn’t coddle you and do the work for you like Changbin most likely would, so you had to make sure you had some ways to contribute to helping him or else you’d be gone within a second.

Changbin knew you were a great pianist and had a particularly great ear for music, more so in terms of vocal abilities, and you’re notes honestly helped him correct his songs the way he needed them to be. So, after giving you his typical “no fooling around, one strike and you’re out” warning, you were in.

You were both pretty productive, but every time Changbin glanced over to you, hearing a tune that was unfamiliar or, if familiar, was from a movie or video game, he’d eye you suspiciously.

He knew you were getting a bit restless, and that your boredom was taking over, so he tried to do whatever possible to keep you entertained while also keeping the progress of his work going. From asking you to make an outro for an unreleased (and already completed) song, to having you revise lyrics he wrote months ago and hasn’t batted an eye at since.

Not even 10 minutes after being assigned those task, you were finished, letting out a groan followed by a whiny ‘I’m bored’. For an amateur, you worked fast.

At this point, Changbin begs you to give him a few more minutes with editing, knowing he needed to get it checked over by Chan and Jisung afterwards anyways, but still wanting to complete it on his own. But you continued to complain, your voice echoing in the space as you asked him if you can start on something new, hopefully creating something for 3Racha or Stray Kids to perform in the future, your rambling cut short by a loud and obviously annoyed ‘Do what you want! Just let me finish this!’.

This is how you began to work in silence, you pressing away at the keys to form a strictly melancholy tune, Changbin finally done editing. When he looked at you, he felt his heart sink. You were only trying to help. It wasn’t like you were goofing off or distracting him, you just wanted to do even more work on top of the work you already finished, but he was so worried about his deadline that he took it out on you. Again, Spear B wasn’t your boyfriend and you both knew that, but that doesn’t mean Spear B had to be a dick to you. You felt Changbin readjust your hands so you were now playing a more upbeat melody, one that fit his style just right, not giving him any attention until he called you ‘jagiya’, a smile forming on your face as he attempted to silently apologize for his anger.

(I don’t even like guys younger than me but I’d D I E for Jisung ;-;)

Jisung was TERRIFIED when you offered to help. He would contemplate saying no to you, especially with you already here at the studio, standing in front of him with doe-like eyes filled with determination. But that wasn’t what scared him. What scared him was watching that determination disappear after a few minutes with him.

Considering Jisung is the main lyricist of 3Racha, he puts his all into his words, that includes his emotions. This song in particular was a bit dark compared to his usual lighthearted behavior at home. You’ve never sat in on his writing sessions, and he was positive this would be a terrible introduction for you to experience it, but he let you in anyways, watching you practically skip towards the spinning chairs as you prepared to witness the great J.One in action.

And, my god, were you shocked.

You’ve seen Jisung cry plenty of times, sure. But you’ve never seen him like this, silently sobbing over his phone as he typed out lyrics, your eyes trained on him despite the fact you were supposed to be improving your mixing. He’d be so deep in the unspoken emotions he felt, finally letting them spill into what would be his next hit, when your voice interrupted him with a soft ‘are you okay?’.

This was the last way he wanted you to see him, he honestly felt pathetic. So, in typical Jisung fashion, he gave a few sniffles, wiping his face with one hand before bringing back his usual grin, trying to convince you he was fine. But you weren’t convinced and your face showed it, his smile faltering as he reassured you he was alright, encouraging you to keep practicing until you were proficient enough to add more instruments to the current melody.

Jisung tried to suppress his emotions from then on, only making you more anxious as you played around with the bass and drum settings on the keyboard, giving up and instead asking to review his lyrics so far. It was an unexpected request, and it made him a bit insecure considering he wasn’t even close to finished, but he allowed you to take a look anyways.

This was the first time anyone outside of 3Racha has seen his writing process, so he couldn’t help the anxiety building in his chest as your eyes skimmed each word. If he had written it all beforehand, maybe you wouldn’t have to see him with puffy, red eyes. Maybe you’d think he was cool just helping you compose so he can find the right beat to perform it to you.

He had so many thoughts running through his mind, almost freaking out until you handed him his phone back, a blank look on your face while his eyes watched you expectantly.

“The lyrics are obviously showing sadness but you worded them in a way that makes it seem like you’re angry and defensive. Don’t let your sadness be an undertone when it’s the main theme of the song.”

It wasn’t something one would describe as philosophical, but it made Jisung feel as if he were speaking to Ralph Emerson himself, your words an eye opener that did nothing but helped him transcend (pun intended) out of the box of emotions he lived in. There was just one problem...

“I don’t know where to start...” he admitted, staring down at the words he wrote as if he’d never seen them before in his life.

But you just offered a small smile and abandoned the half-asses harmonies you created before turning your attention to him, reminding him that you came to help and, got dammit, you were gonna help.

It wasn’t what either of you expected, to be sitting and talking about deep topics that brought tears to both your eyes, but you managed to write something both powerful and energetic while still true to Jisung’s emotions. He felt silly at that point for getting so worked up over you helping out, but after all the crying he’d done, he decided that would be a wrap for the day, not even bothering to finish with the actual beat, saying a playful ‘I’ll ask Chan to do it’ as you both left the studio.

[all-the-kpop-imagines]

All About Luv drabbles- Love U

Here’s the next set of drabbles, luvs. Sorry it’s so late, my sense of time is all screwed up right now. Hope you are all staying safe, healthy, and entertained during all this. 

-Admin JiA

Shownu stared at you as you moved seamlessly through the crowd of people. A simple company gathering, where you were his guest, and you still became the main attraction. He smiled fondly as he watched you converse with someone he didn’t recognize, before turning and throwing him a playful smirk. He was no longer interested in his own conversation, and he was surprised the person hadn’t noticed, but now his mind was even further from the room he currently stood in. He had been fighting to keep himself composed since he had picked you up that night, and the smirk on your lips, had finally broken him. Doing his best to be polite, though he wasn’t sure the other man had understood what he said anyway, he excused himself and made his way over to you. “Excuse me, do you mind if I steal her for a second?” He thanked the person you had been conversing with, before beginning to lead you to the door. “We’ve only been here an hour, are we leaving?” By the look in your eyes, he knew you were teasing him, but he gave you a smirk in return anyway. “Yes, because looking at you, I got one thing on my mind, and it isn’t business, Love.” 

You laughed as you watched Wonho and Hyungwon dance like idiots in the middle of the dorm. The room looked as if about fifty people had been there partying all night, instead of the small group that was really hanging around, celebrating. Monsta X was blasting, though the singers themselves were all singing intentionally off tune, and you were pretty sure Shownu was singing an entirely different song, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. All your friends, all the boys’ closest friends were happily tipsy, and the good mood was infectious. You had only stepped aside to take it in, and it was moments like this that made all their hard work worth it. As you turned to go get yourself another glass of wine, a hand locked around your wrist, and you were pulled back into a firm chest- one you would know anywhere. “Just where do you think you’re going?” His words were slightly slurred, but you weren’t sure if that was from alcohol, or sheer excitement. “To get some more wine, which you’ve clearly had enough of.” You laughed, spinning to face him. Wonho immediately pulled you into some kind of half waltz, despite the much faster music, sending peals of laughter from both of you. “You’re insane!” He only laughed again, as he whirled you past a disheveled MInhyuk, who had apparently fallen. “Yeah! You make me crazy, it’s not just the wine!” His words were lost in the noise, but the smile on his face was not. 

Kihyun smiled as you leaned into his side. He couldn’t deny that he loved having you close, and even if the other boys were around, he was tempted to pull you closer, or even into another position. He felt you chuckle, when his arm wrapped around you, and his hand settled a bit lower on your hip than normal. “Are we bold tonight?” You whispered, careful not to disrupt the movie the others were watching. In response, he only let his fingers begin rubbing soft circles on your hip, though the smirk never left his face. “And if I am?” He loved to challenge you, something he knew you also loved. “Hmm...I thought Yoo Kihyun was too conservative for such things. I was sure there was a clear line.” He could hear the smirk in your voice, even if he didn’t look over at you, part of him still fighting to maintain that sense of propriety, though the voice was getting smaller and smaller the more you pressed yourself against him. “Well then I guess you’ve got a challenge, hmm? Go ahead and take me right across the line, babe.” He glanced over at you, knowing his resolve would crumble, and sure enough, a few minutes later he was excusing you both, saying he needed to get you home before it got too late, and you were doing your best to maintain a straight face.

Minhyuk smirked a bit, as you sat next to him on the couch. He had come to visit, on your request, and halfway into the movie that he had no real interest in, you had turned to him, and kissed him. It hadn’t taken long before the movie was entirely forgotten by both of you, and now you sat, catching your breath, and staring at each other, waiting for one of you to make the next move. He was searching your face, finding only the same desire he felt, and trying to decide how to convey what he wanted. Despite his confidence that you wanted it too, part of him was concerned about being too pushy, about having read things wrong. That was why it had taken so long for you to get to this point, but unfortunately, Minhyuk was well aware he was far better at expressing his feeling through actions, than words. But he didn’t want to scare you off, or make things feel rushed. He wanted you to take the lead. He bit his lip, before looking back up at you, smirk once again on his face. “If you want me, like I want you, just take my hand and lead me up the stairs.”  

Hyungwon stared at you nervously, unable to find the words he was looking for. It had long ago been established that there were some kind of feelings he had for you, and he was sure you returned them, but the tension between you was getting to be too much. He had approached you in the midst of the wedding you were both attending, certain that the alcohol in his system would give him the courage he needed to finally say the words that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for so long. Instead, he had fumbled, and ended up rambling, leaving you staring at him as if trying to interpret, though he could see that you were sharing the same thoughts. You were just waiting for him to vocalize them, and he was no longer sure how to do so. As he watched you flip your hair over your shoulder, he took a deep breath, and downed the rest of his champagne, offering you his hand. “I’m not going to fumble for words anymore. I know you know what I mean when I say I really wanna love you. Let’s get out of here.” He raised an eyebrow, his own smile coming back full force, as you let out an incredulous little laugh. “Well then. It’s about time. Lead the way.” He snatched his jacket up, as he led you toward his car.

Jooheon groaned again, as he tossed his pencil down on the desk. He was growing far too frustrated with trying to figure out this lyric, and he was about ready to call it quits, when Wonho sat down beside him. “What’s up man?” He looked up at the older boy, a heavy sigh leaving him. “I’m stuck on this stupid lyric. It was my own damn choice to write this song, but it just won’t cooperate with me, and I cannot find the words.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging it slightly, as his head fell forward. Wonho reached past him, and picked up his notes, reading through it. “Ah, so its about her, huh?” He smirked at him, and Jooheon glared. “Yes, it is. And I know what I want to say, but I can’t find the words.” Wonho tilted his head, a curious look on his face. “Why not? Just say what you want to say.” Jooheon rolled his eyes. “Let me rephrase. I can’t say the word I want to, cuz they won’t play it on the radio.” Wonho let out a laugh, as he nodded. “I see.” He went silent, waiting for Wonho to elaborate. When no other comment was made, he sighed again. “Any suggestions, would be great, man.” He commented a little exasperated, and Wonho shrugged as he stood. “Just use the word. We’ll figure it out later.” As Wonho left, Jooheon shook his head, but wrote out the sentence anyway. 

Changkyun pouted a bit as he wrapped an arm around you, trying to ignore his own thoughts, and focus instead on the conversation you were having with your friend. He was more than happy to accompany you to your friends party, but he hadn’t anticipated just what that would mean for him. You tempted him enough on a regular day, but what was worse, was there was no way he wanted to risk making any sort of poor impression on your friends. And yet, you were wearing his favorite outfit, and radiating that same sense of confidence and happiness that had drawn him to you in the first place, and he really, really wished you had been there for more than an hour. If he dragged you out now, it would raise suspicions, and he was not going to be that person. Plus, he did really enjoy talking with your friends, and being part of this group...or he had, until you had returned from wherever you had gone with another friend, and it had been like the first time he’d seen you all over again. When your friend excused themselves to go get another drink, he let out a sigh, and turned to you. “You’re rude, you know.” You looked at him confused, but let out a little laugh. “What did I do?” He rolled his eyes, and pulled you close, tucking his head into your neck for a second. “The way you look right now, is so unfair.” He left a soft kiss, before pulling back, and smiling at another person, as they came up and started a conversation, not missing the smirk on your face. 

[anika-ann]

Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Ch.1

Know the Enemy

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 1700

Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.

Your parents have been taken, parents who didn’t even know you were still alive and playing hero. And now it’s time to negotiate.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of kidnapping, death threat,... crying? Light angst.

Prologue | Story Masterlist

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Tony barely managed to plug in the phone to his magical tech when the annoying ringtone cut the air again.

You had been sitting on one of the stools in his lab, staring ahead blindly. Instead of a science lair, you saw your parents, family dinners and tiny cute birthday parties in a close circle of the few people who still cared. You saw your dad’s proud smile when you finished high school despite all the odds of your poor health and your mother’s tears on the same occasion, the small diner they took you to after, because you loved it there and you had preferred it to some fancy restaurant.

A squeeze on your hand brought you back to the present and you blinked, looking up to Steve’s face. A shadow of concern was there, but he gave you an encouraging smile. You gulped, eyeing the phone as if it could explode.

“Gonna put in on speaker, sounds good?” Tony hummed, already accepting the call and truly setting it so all of you could hear the caller. Steve’s hand never left yours.

“He-hello?” you spoke up quietly, mentally cursing. Too low. Yet, the person on the other end of the line must have heard you, because he responded.

“Hello, my darling!”

Steve’s grip tightened as the man greeted you cheerfully and Tony quickly started typing sounlessly in order to trace the call. You closed your eyes, the picture of your parents, each tied to a chair and a tape covering their mouths, swimming behind your eyelids.

“What do you want?”

There was a short silence following your question.

“Straight to business, I like that,” the man commented, his voice, immediately burned into your brain like a brand, causing you to sober up. “I wanted you attention.”

“You have it.” You have no idea how much attention you have, you dickbag. Touch them and I swear I’ll rip you open with my teeth.

“Obviously, Snowflake.” You winced, just like Steve, who was trying to keep composed by your side. “I’d like a meeting.”

“Why? Why would you kidnap those people? What-“

“Told ya. Wanted your attention. Gotta admit, your backstory is less interesting then I thought, but the Michaels always had high expectations.”

There was a bitter note behind his words and your lips parted. What the fuck? Was he trying to lead you astray? Or did he really just introduce himself? Both men present with you seemed as surprised as you were – Tony’s eyebrows were up, while Steve’s face darkened. He didn’t like the man revealing himself so easily-- and honestly neither did you.

“Why do you want to meet?”

To kill me?

“Big fan of yours. But with how much fan mail you get, I figured I needed something… bigger.”

You gritted your teeth at the painful pang of anxiety attacking your stomach. Yeah, sure, kidnapping your parents was a bit bigger. How the hell had he figured it out? There was no chance this Michaels didn’t know who you were, no chance of your parents being abducted being a coincidence. Yet, you needed to be sure.

“And you thought kidnapping two innocent people would do?” you strained through your teeth.

Tony gave you a thumbs up and lighted up the big screen – he traced the call. Naturally, it was from Pennsylvania; right at the source.

“Worked, didn’t it? I’m sure your friends already traced the call to the right building, so now nothing stands in the way of our meeting-“ You shot Steve a panicked look – this guy knew very well what he was doing. He must have known how precise the program was, when using the military network combined with Tony’s. How could he know that? “-so why don’t you come tomorrow at 8 a.m.? I would set the meeting earlier, but I tend to be cranky before I have my coffee.”

Steve’s expression was one of furious, veins on his arms ascending as his free hand curled up into a fist. His other forearm was pale; you realized you had been subconsciously tightening your grip on his hand and what was worse, your powers started working on their own, cooling the limb down.

You immediately let go, shocked and horrified. After that, you didn’t think your horror could escalate, but obviously, you were wrong.

“Also, leave your group of merry men and deadly woman home. If you don’t come alone, I’ll know. And if I know, they die.”

Steve shook his head rapidly, his eyes hard and disapproving. Tony was trying to get your attention, waving his hands. ‘Prove of life,’ he mouthed.

You breathed in shakily, closing your eyes. You were out of options. You whole body, every single instinct was screaming at you to tell him to go screw himself, because it was an obvious trap, but you didn’t have a choice.

He had your parents. There was only thing you could do.

“8 a.m. it is. I’ll come. Alone,” you added firmly, ignoring Steve’s hand grabbing your arm and pulling lightly to make you face him.

You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his – they were speaking to you soundlessly, scolding your for even thinking about negotiating with the man and meeting him on your own. You allowed yourself to drown in the sea of outraged blue, surprisingly calming you despite the emotions promising a fight in it. You found yourself strangely relaxed, an insane reaction to this mess.

“But I’m gonna need a non-stop prove of these people being alive.”

Steve’s gaze softened with compassion and you pretended it didn’t do things to you. You fooled no one.

“Obviously. Accept the video feed,” Michaels ordered and Tony clicked on the icon, another big screen lighting up with a face of a man.

JARVIS automatically started the recognition program, while you instinctively started asserting the man. White male in his forties, a bit round face, dark stubble, piercing grey eyes. Two-inch scar above his left eyebrow. It was impossible to guess his built with his body out of the frame.

“And you know, you can cut the game of calling them ‘people’. I know who they are to you,” he exclaimed, one corner of his lips rising.

You swallowed loudly as he disappeared from the frame then, angling the phone and showing you old industrial metallic door. He nudged it with his foot and it opened easily.

You ceased to breathe, your heart stopping as well. Your palm fled to cover your mouth as tears gathered in your eyes.

Here they were; the scene in front of you resembled the photo you had received, so he must have taken it from the very same angle. There wasn’t any change really, but for that you were actually grateful. You parents were still alive and breathing, their scared eyes flashing to the camera for a second before they lowered their gazes to the floor again. Your mother’s shoulders shook, her sobs muffled by the tape over her mouth.

The table you set your fist onto covered in thick layer of ice. You quickly raised it again.

“See, Frostbite? Living and kicking. Let’s keep it this way. You’ll hear from me every half an hour so you know your precious p-“ you held your breath in anticipation. Had he told them? Was he about to tell them now? “-people are still breathing. Can’t wait to meet you, Snowflake.”

And then the line went dead.

You sobbed, folding like a house of cards under a slight breeze. Steve shifted in his position, wrapping his strong arms around you instead of the simple challenging grip on your arm, and you instantly reached for the comfort he was offering. He placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Hey, we’ll handle this-“

“Alone,” you whimpered, your voice muffled by his t-shirt. You could feel him shaking his head.

“Not an option. We’ll figure something out. Tony? Who’s this guy?”

“Frederick Michaels. Former employee of… well, me. Stark Industries. MIT graduate, summa cum laude. Just your average IT guy here. Fired a year ago,” Tony informed him swiftly. He didn’t need an encouragement to elaborate. “For harassment. That poor woman had to take a half-year of therapy. Jeez, I wouldn’t be surprised if Pepper had been the one to pack his bag herself. She’s allergic to that stuff.”

You allowed yourself breathe in at the mention of Pepper Potts. That woman was a goddess among men, ultimately badass in a bit different way than Natasha. And you needed to be all kind of badass now. You retreated from Steve’s hug, rising from your stool. Yet, you didn’t quite leave Steve’s personal space, comforted by the heat he was radiating. You eyed Tony.

“Why would he target me?” Why would he target my parents?

“Given his history, I would say it’s your outfit, it’s very tight on the right places-“ Tony hummed, cut off by Steve’s murderous glare, “-but this seems much more complicated than that. Why don’t you chill while everyone else gets here? JARVIS?”

“Already sent an alert to Agents Romanov and Barton as well as Doctor Banner, sir.”

“That’s what I’m talking about, the team working like swish watch. He picked the wrong team to mess with. We’ll deal with that bastard in no time, no worries, Frosty.”

Despite yourself and the air so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife, you smiled.

“Also, get that ice from my table, Elsa. Your manners suck.”

You did as he asked, trying to ignore the anxiety at your powers going haywire – you had other things to worry about now. But you could feel Steve’s worried gaze at the back of your head as your hand hovered over the mess you had made.

He was shaken by that as much as you were, but you never got to talk about it, because Clint entered the laboratory with a yawn.

“What’s up, ki-“ The words died in his throat when he saw the frozen frame of two civilians tied to chairs. “Where’s the fight?” he asked instead and Tony sighed, zooming the map out, replacing the ugly picture.

When the red dot appeared in a town called Snow Shoe, you almost send an icicle through the hologram, really not appreciating the irony.

────── ·❆· ──────

Part 2

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags:  @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek @cxptain, @kallafrench​

[hopeaterart]

How about the story of how Sadao and Holly met? Or their first date?

Oh, you’re gonna be happy: I already had something more or less written.

Holly nervously checked her watch, feet bouncing in impatience under the table. He should be here by now.

She had recently arranged an interview with the pianist of the Aotsugi, a japanese jazz band who had recently published their first original album. While the reception in their home country had been lukewarm, it had been an immediate hit in America, a good chunk of Europe, and North Africa. They had then gone on tour, and during said tour, a bunch of small scandals involving them happened, keeping them in the spotlight and ending with their agent getting arrested for possession of drugs. This city was pretty much the last they were giving a concert in.

The pianist was the only member who had miraculously avoided getting involved in any of the scandals. He was also the only one who had vehemently refused to give interviews. Until now, that is. After a lenghty phone discussion with a raspy man's voice, her in a phone both and hi on the hotel's reception phone that had (thankfully) let her contact him through them, Holly Joestar, upcoming journalist who wished to not involve herself in tabloids, had succeeded in getting an interview with Sadao Kujo, the pianist of Aotsugi. 

Even if right now, she felt like a teenager that's just been stood up.

"Uh, lady?" Holly turned, startling the short man behind her. Long black hair in a low ponytail, cigarette at his lips, military cap, heavy trench coat… it was him.

"Oh! You must be mister Kujo!" Holly said, eyes twinkling. The short man snorted.

"Yeah, and you must be the journalist who claim she's actually interested in our music." He answered, sitting down. "I hope this won't be a waste of my time…"

"Don't worry, I already have my questions prepared, you are free to refuse answering if they make you uncomfortable, and I am planning on getting this published in an actual music journal, not in some column of a celebrity gossip magazine. We also agreed over the phone that I was not to publish this until after this tour was finished. It's not due to a breach of contract, but due to not wanting to accidently cause yet another scandal this late in the tour." Sadao nodded, apparently impressed with what Holly considered to be common decency.

"At least, I know I'm not dealing with a paparazzi… let me go get some coffee, and then we can start."

-

"Alright, so…" Holly started, opening her notebook and starting the recorder. "Let's start with an introduction: who you are, and what your role in the band is."

"Okay. Name's Kujo Sadao, and I'm the pianist and principal song writer of Aotsugi, a japanese jazz band. I'm also the only member of the band that doesn't lend in their vocals for any song." The man explained. Holly nodded, writing a few notes before going onto the next question.

"I'm warning you now, I may ask some questions I didn't plan earlier: so, why don't you back up the vocals?"

"It's 'cause my voice is scratchy as hell from all the cigarettes I smoke." He answered with a shrug. Holly nodded.

"Where did the name of your band come from?"

"Oh god, you really are interested in what we're doing- it's a pun on kintsugi, the practice of repair in objects with golden lacque with the idea that the object has become more beautiful after getting broken through it's repairs." Sadao started explaining, his tone somehow conveying more appreciation despite not changing. "'Kin' means gold, and 'Ao' means blue. As in 'blues', which is appropriate since our songs can get pretty sad. Basically, we were damaged, but we're healing through our music, and we're better off for it."

"Oh!" Holly exclaimed. "I didn't realize just how deep the meaning was!"

"It's a pun."

"But it's a deep pun. Who's idea was it?"

"Shouko, our guitarist and main vocals. She's also a former J-Pop idol, so she's got some expertise in word play."

"I see. Now, what is the main inspirations for your songs?"

Sadao whistled. "I won't go into details, but my fucked up childhood is up there. We all try to contribute with our own experiences, so there's also the flaws of the idol industries for Shouko, the screwed up juridicial system Kaede's parents experienced in her teens, Yuichi's general hatred of discrimination, stuff like that."

"Oh! So, you're an activist band?"

"Kind of. We take the things that hurt us, break them down, and use the parts to fight back in our own way." Holly nodded, fascinated. And to think most people were only interested in what scandals they were involved in! This was far more interesting, and nobler, too.

"Alright! Is there a reason why some songs have a different feel than others?"

"Oh! That's actually pretty simple: depending on what subject we're singing about, we also try changing sub-genre." Sadao explained. "For example, songs about my childhood, which is most of them, are composed to have a blues feel to them, but the ones about Yuichi's anger are more punk. The ones about the pop industries are mixed with, well, pop, which can be noticed in the beat, and juridicial system gets a good dose of smooth- I’m talking about smooth jazz."

Harry nodded, taking a few more notes. "So, depending on who the song is about, you change genres?"

"Sub-genres. We're still jazz musicians, and we're all from Japan. This affects how we play. We just like having some diversity in our music." Sadao explained.

"Oh! So, Japan has a large jazz scene?" A nod from the short man. Holly's face lit up at the new tidbit of knowledge. "I didn't know that! Could you please tell me more?"

Sadao truly smiled for the first time that evening. "I'd love to, but maybe another time?"

"Oh right! We're in the middle of something. Sorry about that, I can be fairly scatterbrained." Harry apologized, Sadao nodding in acceptance of her apology. "Now, back to the interview! How did the band start out?"

"Okay, how do I put this without making it sound like we're all crackheads…" Sadao muttered, not noticing that Harry heard until he chuckled nervously. "We're not! But uh… it's a weird story…"

"I can deal with weird." Harry reassured. Sadao hummed, but shook his head.

"If you say so, but there's already weird stories about us because of all the scandals, and I don't want to add to the dumpster fire." Holly nodded in understanding as Sadao went back to thinking. "We met in a bar." He said suddenly. "Shouko's career was going downhill like most idols after the few first months, Kaede had been thrown out of her house by her boyfriend, Yuichi's career as a garage band's drummer was going downhill, and I was actually a waiter off my shift. After a few drinks and gathering around the pool table, we bitched about our respective problems for four hours, and got thrown out. Well, fired in my case. We decided to just crash at the capsule hotel three streets corner away. About a month and a lot of bullshit later, the band was formed. Our first album was actually a cover one, mainly of love songs. It basically compiled everything we played as gigs. Our second one, Kiri no Hansha, is our first original album. It means 'Foggy reflection', by the way."

Holly 'oooh'-ed. "So you all have different origins. How did you all start out? In the realm of music, I mean."

"Errrr… I was part of the music club at my school consistently and all of that stuck, Kaede actually used to work in orchestras, Yuichi was part of a garage band, and I already mentioned several times that Shouko used be an idol. I don't know for the others, but I also had an obsession with jazz music when I was younger."

"Oh! I really want to ask you about it, now." Holly whined, Sadao snorting in answer.

"I'd be glad to tell you in a less… formal setting." The short man re-assured, smiling when Holly visibly lit up. "What's the next question?"

"Alright! There's only three left, and one of them is kind of linked to the scandals, but it doesn't really concern your group, alright?" Sadao nodded in understanding. "What are your future plans?"

"We're finishing the tour with our current agency -it should correspond to when our contract ends- then we're taking a break from everything, and we start on our next album. I can't say much about it, but we're planning on doing something more uniform this time around. We've also been invited to play at a few events in the coming months, so we're gonna be doing that while working on the next album. I can also say that we're not planning to split anytime soon." Sadao said in a matter of fact tone, taking a sip of of her coffee before pulling a face. "I shouldn't have let it cool."

Harry snorted, before going onto the next question, of which she slightly changed the wording on the paper. "So you are planning on changing agency? Is it because of what happened with your agent?"

"Oh, we were planning on finding another agency long before our agent turned out to have drugs." He snarled. "Beside the fact that he's an over-controlling asshole, our current agency is also the idol agency that exploited Shouko, threw her out, and then forced her to come back due by using her contract when we started working independently. We only accepted so we could rise in our career faster, and we're not pretty little things to put in a magazine." A wolfish grin appeared on her face. "And they don't have any rights over our music either, since Yuichi argued for our contract that the songs we sing belong to who wrote them. And since our first album- it's just called Aotsugi Covers- is a cover album, and I pretty much wrote the entirety of Kiri no Hansha…" Sadao trailed off with a smile. "Get fucked, Ai records. Please don't put that in the interview, they don't even know I'm doing this." Holly snorted.

"Don't worry! I keep my promises: this won't get published until your group finishes it's tour. Now, last question: how do you feel about the overwhelmingly positive reception to your music?"

"Great! We all do. Meeting our fans was a blast." Sadao admitted, a bright smile stretching his features. "Felt good to be appreciated."

"O-oh…" Harry said, his attitude dropping. He shut the recorder as Sanae raised an eyebrow.

"Is that it?"

"Yes. I'm finished asking you questions about the band…" Harry said, averting his eyes from Sadao. She then raised her head. "So, about our next meeting- no!" A strong windows just made his notebook fly away from the table and in the middle of the streets. The blonde woman was about to get out of his chair to fetch it, but Sadao was out in an instant, jumping in the street. Thankfully,  the streets was empty as the notebook landed, the short man bending over to pick it up.

And then, a car turned out of nowhere and hit him full-on as he was getting back up, sending him flying a few meters away.

"Oh god!" Holly screamed, jumping into the streets to make sure Sadao was alright. The shorter man groaned as Holly came near him, the driver of the car also getting out to yell at him.

"Hey! What the hell's your problem-"

"What the hell is YOUR problem!? You hit this man with your car!" Holly angry retorted as she helped Sadao get up.

"Don't worry, Joestar-San, wouldn't be the first time that happens." Holly turned toward Sanae with a semi-confused, semi-surprised expression.

"Wha-"

Crunch

"...One of my leg is broken." Sadao suddenly said. He then started falling down as blood visibly started appearing on his pants. "Yeah, my leg's broken." He then landed on his knees with another crack. "Call an ambulance." He then fell to the ground, and started screaming.

"OH MY GOD-"

-

"You got hit by a car. Again."

"Shut up, Kaede."

"It wasn't even as big as the one from last time, how the fuck did it break your leg?"

"I said shut up." Sadao told his band mate,  who put her hands in the air. It had been a few days after the incident. He hadn't remembered much after he fell down, mainly a few minutes of screaming, Joestar-san trying to calm him down, the ambulance coming in, getting into the ambulance alone, and he then blacked out from pain. When he woke up, his leg was in a cast and she was high as a kite on morphins.

He would have to play the piano in a wheelchair for their last concert of the tour, which had been postponned. Thankfully, the theater had found a spot where they would be able to play next week instead of this Friday, and everyone who had bought a ticket had been offered a refund or a ticket for the new date, depending on what they wanted. The spot left vacant had instead been taken by an impro team. Guess they're gonna put those impro skill to play.

"Yeah, Kaede. Leave Sadao alone." Yuichi snapped. The constantly angry guy then turned her attention to the pianist. "You're sure you're gonna be alright for the concert?"

"Yuichi, it won't be the first time I'm either high as shit or in extreme pain at a concert." Sadao deadpanned. "I thought our concerts in London and Manhattan proved that."

"How the hell no one notices the bullshit you get into is beyond me." Shouko muttered from the chair she was sitting in.

"It's because everyone else was focused on the bullshit you got into during those concerts." Yuichi snapped again. Shouko frowned at him.

"At least, I never went in a holding cell."

"Guys, it's fine. Stop fighting. The reason why I don't get caught when I start bullshitting is because I make sure I don't get caught." Sadao said. "Also, I've been at it for longer than you guys. Been doing this since I was seven so my parents would go easy on me. Also, believe it or not, but Ichiryu was onto something when he said we should all probably go to therapy. So I don't feel the need to do stupid shit in my past-time. I have other coping mechanisms, now."

"Uh-uh. Does Kaname-san knows it was your idea to frame our agent, or…?"

"I am under no obligation to answer to that question." Sadao robotically answered Shouko, who sighed in exasperation. "But yeah guys, don't worry. I'll be fine for the concert."

"That's good to know." Kaede noted. Someone then knocked at the door. "Come in!" A blond caucasian woman entered. Sadao sat up as straight as his current position allowed her.

"Joestar-san?"

"Hi, mister Kujo!" The blond woman answered as she got in the room, holding a huge bouquet of flowers. "I just wanted to come and check if you were alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry." Sadao answered. "Guys, this is Holly Joestar, aka the only journalists who gives a shit about what we do." All of his band mates proceeded to turn toward her, introducing themselves and thanking her for taking the time to learn more about them. 

Harry simply thanked them for letting him ask questions, before fully turning toward Sadao. "I got flowers for you right here-" She put the bouquet on a table that was close-by "-and wanted to know if next Wednesday was alright for my jazz history lesson? Or is it too soo?"

Sadao’s face lit up as much as it could in his drugged state. "No, next Wednesday is fine! By the way, we have a concert in two weeks, and Shouko has free tickets on her. If you're interested, you could come?"

"Oh, I would love to!" Harry said. After a short exchange with the singer, the blonde man was given a ticket and left the room with one last goodbye. All the members sighed in something that was not quite exhaustion, but close to it.

"God, that girl is like, our complete opposite." Kaede commented.

"Yeah, I can't believe I'm gonna sleep with her." Sadao commented. All movement in the room stopped. The three other members of Aotsugi then turned toward him with confused faces.

"You- you don't have to." Shouko said after a pregnant silence. Sadao shook his head in answer, baffling his bandmates even further.

"No, I'm gonna."

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer Chapter 25: Between Worlds

My eyes opened to brilliant sunshine. A quick check of the phone revealed that I’d slept two hours later than usual. There was a message from Johann saying that he would meet me pretty much an hour from now.

“Great,” I responded back, “Because I just woke up!” Laughing emoji.

“That’s good.” came the response. I watched the typing icon at the bottom of the screen, a fond smile on my face. “I’ve noticed that when it comes to academics, you’re excelling. But in physical aptitudes you’re still lagging behind. After what happened last night, it’s apparent that you need to excel there too.”

My phone blinked up an attachment. Johann texted.  “Here’s your modified schedule. It’s going to be tough, but we’re running out of time.”

When I saw just how much I was going to be working on combat, my eyes flew open. Academics only occupied three hours of my day now. 

And my number one trainer for each session was Johann himself. 

An hour later I met him at the gym.

Master List

“Lancelot told me that you have done well with the fundamentals. So we’ll be focusing on techniques now.” He was visibly strong, not in a bodybuilder sort of way, but like a farmer’s son, sculpted by hard work every day.

“We’ll be going very fast through this."

“What’s the hurry?” I asked.

“After the three months is over, there will only be one week left before you’ll be taking your finals. I have no doubt you’ll do fine on the written test. But the physical test… I worry. And that’s a third of your grade. You can’t fail it and then move to the next semester.” Johann explained.

“The physical test is composed of three parts, agility, arms and combat.” He ticked each off his fingers. “Combat is your weakest link. If we can get that up to speed you’ll have a better chance of passing.”

It wasn’t like I was soft. Lancelot marveled at my core strength, balance and practiced awareness of what my body was doing at any given time. But if you hit me, I crumbled like tissue paper, and I was just as ineffective hitting others.

I was surprised he was so concerned. I thought I was doing well with agility, at least, and I was practicing shooting every day!

“So, we’ll start with holds and breaking them. We’ll all be wearing protective equipment during the test and no one will be hurting anyone else. But if they can pin you, or drag you, you’re pretty much done.”

I let out a little quiet moan of despair.

Johann actually chuckled a bit. “Don’t take it so hard. It’ll be fine. I won’t let you fail it.”

I nodded twice. I could feel my pulse racing at the idea of him so close.  

He walked over to stand behind me. “We’ll start with the most common one. Wrapping the arm behind the neck.”

I flinched.

“Don’t be nervous, I’m just showing you.”

My body wasn’t listening. The weight of his arm was barely there and my heart was slamming in my chest. This wasn’t the pitter-pat of a little crush like I’d assumed it was to start. This was actual fear, the cold, clinching terror.

I suddenly realized this is why he was training me himself. There was no way I would be able to tolerate this from anyone else.

His voice was close to my ear  “Panic is what kills people. Not lack of training. I’m not here to tell you not to be scared. I’m just telling you… put it away long enough to learn… the rest will take care of itself.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by 'take care of itself', but I didn’t want to let him down. I forced my thoughts away from the way I was feeling and instead focus on what he was doing, and what he was telling me to do.

Using my meager strength wasn’t going to break any hold on me. What I needed to do was use my knowledge of how a body could and could not move and my own weight to drag my opponent into a position where he would stop focusing on holding on. 

Once we practiced for real, I was able to break his hold on the first try by counterattacking him with a hold of my own and using my entire weight to bring him down.

He rolled, immediately back on his feet before I could finish backing away. “Good. Now do that ten times faster.”

We practiced for about fifteen more minutes before he called a break and got some water for us. While he was gone, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. 

I took the water offered by Johann. “You know… when I first came here, I met someone who… put his arm around me like that so I couldn’t get away from him. It looked friendly… but it was really a hold I didn’t know how to escape from. That’s why I… got upset.”

“Oh...”

 “Funny, I forgot about it until now. But I guess my body didn’t.”

“Oh.” He turned his eyes away from me.

“Don’t feel bad. In fact… that was the person I was running from when I first met you right?” 

He cringed. “And then I… grabbed your wrist…”

“And I almost broke it, trying to get away!” I started to laugh again. “I thought you were one of his goons!” 

“That explains a lot.”

“Like what?”

“Oh uh… I thought my eyes were what made you nervous. I was wondering why you weren’t afraid of them afterwards.”

“They’re unusual but very pretty!” I took a long drink and screwed the cap back on, mumbling.  “Now I understand why you’re worried about my exam. I’m a little brown bag of issues.”

I noticed his cheeks were a little red. Was he really that embarrassed about something that happened months ago? “Ready for another round?” He asked, changing the subject.

 “Yep!”

Despite my efforts to maintain a cheery disposition, the training lasted far too long for my mood to hold up. The longer it lasted, the tougher he was on me. He was pushing me to fight harder and faster.  While I tried my best, it was obvious that, if he wanted to, he could have his way with me. It was just a matter of his changing his mind and deciding not to be nice. The fear was like dangling off a precipice with only a narrow guardrail of trust between us. The trust was there, but so was the dizzying, terrifying feeling of what could happen if it was suddenly broken.

 By the end of day I was a wreck in every sense of the word. I didn’t want to talk to him any more, look at him any more.

The training  not only reminded me of Isaac, but that I’d been dragged through the grass, strangled near to death, had a gun to my head, been strapped to a chair, sedated, carried, hit... 

This training dredged up every feeling of being lost, trapped, terrorized and manipulated.

When Johann teleconferenced me for the evening review exam that evening, I wasn't as pleasant as I had been. It didn't feel like my own emotions, but some half physical, half mental entity that resented Johann for pushing past a carefully crafted and indicated line. It didn't matter if I gave him permission and it was necessary. It still felt like an invasion. He'd opened this box of awful memories after I'd stuffed them in and locked the lid.

The next day, I had a definite chip on my shoulder.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked me.

"No  Let's just get started." I said, not smiling.

That brought him up short. "Alright."

I was more than eager to apply what I learned. When breaking out of a wrist grapple, I turned Johann's arm too far and he hissed, "Hey, take it easy."

He reached around to get behind my head but I broke that too, backing away.

"Good… very good." His expression had changed to one of quiet approval. We circled a moment. "Keep an eye on your footing…" He reminded me.

Taking out my feelings on Johann had had the opposite effect!  Something in me got so annoyed! Didn't he see that I didn't like this?

He straightened. "I'd like to see more of that… faster."

That annoyed devil inside me interpreted faster as more ferocious. I didn't want him touching me for a millisecond longer than he had to. By lunch, we'd moved on to maintaining distance after a grapple. By the end of the afternoon, we'd started on incorporating offense with defense.

By hour four, my tolerance reached its breaking point. I slammed the heel of my hand into his collarbone. “Stop!”

Johann backed away, rubbing it furiously for a second before he paused. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I … I’m done. I don’t want to do this any more.” I stood stiff, arms at my side.

“Could have just said so…” His eyebrows rose.

Guilt washed over me. “I’m sorry…”

He shrugged. “You worked hard today. Only thirty minutes left.” I must have still looked stricken, because he continued.  “I’ve been hit harder. If it makes you feel better for our next session, we’ll use padding.”

I went back home to study, exhausted and feeling guilty. Ielia burst out of my necklace spinning around in ecstasy. She gave me two thumbs up. I rolled my eyes at her and walked away but she stayed, floating ahead of me. She put her hand up to stop me and then pointed to the wall where my rune was.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Alright.” I carefully traced with my pen where her finger indicated. When the rune was done it sprouted a dark star from its center, a Nibelungen gate. A door to the outside. 

She immediately floated through. I followed and was transported to a wide open stone work cavern. My heart thudded. It was the place. The same place where I met Isaac for the last time. “How did you do this?” I asked, my voice echoing off the walls.

She just spun around in the air, looking smug. Then she closed her eyes and a bright spear of light appeared in her hand. 

I could only stare. “We’re not on campus...I can… use my dragon gift.”

I could go. I could go anywhere. 

“We’re going to get in so much trouble if they find out.” I stood there, eyes wide.

She shrugged and put her finger to her lips. Then she pointed the spear at me. She wanted to train me. That’s what it was. I shook my head. “I’m already worn out.”

She let her hand down and put them behind her back. The spear swam through the air around us and alighted on its tip in front of me.

I didn’t have to physically throw it? I didn’t have to grab it at all?

She suddenly raised her head. Through the gate I heard a strange rumbling sound. She took my hand and pulled me back into my room. Someone was knocking. It was Mingfei. “Hey!” He gave me a jaunty wave when I opened. “Professor Schneider wants to see us in the library lab.” 

“Just us? Okay.”

As we walked, he glanced at me. “How have you been?”

“Alright. Johann told me that right after our three months is over, there’s going to be a test. I’m not doing well in combat so we’re starting to train together. It’s a bit… nerve wracking.”

“Really…?” Lu looked down at me with wide brown eyes. “That’s what he’s talking about for after the three months?!” Mingfei rolled his eyes.

“What?” 

“I just…” He sighed. “It’s… I thought maybe he’d be talking about something a little more… I don’t know… important.”

“If I don’t pass the test, I won’t be able to move on to the next semester! That’s kind of important!” I squinted at him.

“Yeah, sure…”

When we arrived at the lab, people were surrounding a large table in hazmat suits. We stood behind the glass. Professor Schneider nodded to us.  “I’m glad to see you have recovered, Charlotte.”

I smiled brightly at him.

“The dragon corpse is dormant but we want to remove its technology. It’s an alchemical device that appears fused to its central nervous system. It’s hard to work around it. Since you resonated with the device, I thought perhaps you or Lu Mingfei could help.”

Lu shrugged. “I don't know why I’m here. Charlotte is the one who understood the thing.”

“I would not say I understood it. More like… it hacked my brain.” I looked squarely at Professor Schneider. “It put thoughts in my head, overrode my own thoughts until I was forced to say things I didn’t believe.”

“A mind control device….” Schneider growled.

“Why would a dragon mind control another dragon?” Lu asked.

There was a sudden commotion. The beast twitched and everyone had ducked behind cover. The professor took a breath as his oxygen tank hissed. “If you can remove the device, then we can safely put the beast in cold storage.”

I looked over at Lu. “I read that the Light King was crueler than the Dark King. Many cruel leaders find ways to mind control.” 

They outfitted me in protective equipment and led me out into the secured area. Through the other visors, I caught a glimpse of faces I didn’t recognize, probably all members of the College elite. 

I leaned over the body. The device was completely metal and as the professor described. There was no way to unwind the metal work from the flesh. I took a deep breath and let it out. I didn’t know anything about dragons or devices. But I had stood before a corpse before.

“Eternal Cycle. Unity in All Things… Self Sufficiency…” I whispered the draconic as quietly as I could, hoping no one would hear me. At the head of the beast, a small light turned on, just above its sightless eye.

I walked to the front of the creature. Was it a button? I reached out to touch it.

I felt a sudden jolt of pain, like something had bitten down hard on my fingertips. I jerked my hand back, shaking it in a reflex. “Ouch!” Bright red blood spattered onto the machinery. A few shouts went up from the lab techs but they quieted when they saw the droplets being attracted to the device, into the gears and crevices.

“It’s absorbing the blood…” Someone whispered. 

Immediately, the machine jundid itself from the body with a heavy thud. Some of the parts fell on the floor.

The eye of the dragon suddenly rolled toward me. 

Mom? Mommy?

I looked the dragon in its single eye. I could understand its dragon speak. “I… I’m not your mom…” I answered back in English.

The head lifted and rested against my chest. My hand reached up and held it before it could knock me over.

Mommy!

My eyesight grew blurry. My chest tightened. I was crying? Why was I crying?

It was crying, tears trailing down the center of its snout.

A loud bang shocked me out of my trance, the head grew heavier and fell to the floor, dragging the body off the table with it. Its tongue lolled from its mouth. Its eye was closed.

Their hands, painfully tight on my arms, hauling me to the door, were a provoking fire. I dug in my heels and leaned back hard, pulling with my legs.

These lab techs were no Johann. They immediately lost their balance and fell, letting me go in the process.

Lu appeared next to me. “Let’s go! Come on!”

Even as he was guiding me out, I couldn’t take my eyes off the body of the dragon… 

The child.

We ended up in a hallway and I finally found my voice. “Lu! Why? Why did they kill it! It was just a baby!”

He stopped and turned to face me. “I know. I heard it.” His eyes were dull and sad. “I know.”

“You did?” I asked in wonder.

“Yeah!” He hissed in frustration. “I see a lot of things that other people can’t see! Sometimes…” For a brief second, he looked around to make sure we were alone. He leaned closer, whispering. “I feel like I’m going crazy because I see these visions and hear these voices… from the dragons.”

I watched his eyes fill and spill over. “I know… I know we have to protect people. I know we do… but I also know… that dragons … dragons are people. I was even friends with one… for a while.” He hung his head.

He covered his eyes with one hand, his voice cracking. “..dead now. There was nothing I could do.”

“How… How do you deal with this? What are we doing? Lu...” My lip trembled. “What are we doing?”

“The purity of our dragon line means that we sympathize with them more… it's just something we have to deal with…” He managed to pull himself together, taking a shaking breath, his hands on my shoulders. “If you don’t… you’ll end up like the S-ranker from 40 years ago who killed himself in his second year.”

I had to admit to myself that I had had those thoughts. I looked into his eyes. He must have them too. “We gotta stick together.”

I took his hand and wrapped my pinkie around his. “Promise… that we can share S-rank secrets? If you and I feel the same, the world will be a less lonely and miserable and terrible place!” I sobbed and bit back the sorrow rising in my throat.

The light returned to Mingfei’s eyes. He curled his pinkie around mine “Promise.”

I rested my head against his chest and took a deep breath. I felt him put his arms around me. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his heart. “Secret number one?”

“Huh?”

“While I was gone. Someone… shared a vision with me. They said… ‘I see you… standing on the threshold between the world of humans, and the world of dragons.’ I didn’t understand what he meant. But now…”

He patted his hand on my head like I was a little kid, smiling. “This is getting a little too serious. Let’s go back to my place. It’s a little against the rules, but right now? I just want to play video games.”

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

Romeo & Juliet - Duncan x fem!reader

Apparently, I can’t write about anyone else by Duncan Shepherd but I’m not even mad about it.

It is inspired by Romeo & Juliet by Dire Straits.

Description: When Duncan bumps into (Y/N), the young woman he madly fell in love with and dated throughout high school and university, he desperately try to fill in the blanks and reconnect with this woman from his past.

Warnings: Mention of smut and past relationships, domestic abuse, cliffhanger.

Word count: 7349.

Duncan dropped his empty paper cup in the bin on his way out from the coffee shop, his coat closely tucking him in his own body warmth in the gentle sway of the snow falling to the floor. The gentle puffs of vapour escaping his mouth reminded him how much he loved the cold weather and in his absent minded trance of watching the snowflakes dance their way to the ground, his confident steps were stopped as he bumped into the shorter frame of a woman, her nose stuck on her phone, scrolling through what looks like to be Twitter or Tumblr.

“Terribly sorry about that!” he managed to mumble at the sight of the young woman dropping her phone to the ground. They both reached for the device that bounced on the frozen ground, watching the shatters the fall had caused to the screen.

It’s only a few seconds after that his face read the features plastered on the visage of the girl in front of him. “Duncan?” her voice whispered, unbothered by the state of her phone. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Y/N? Oh god, it’s been a hot minute” he tried scoffing off the awkwardness from his shoulders. His blue gaze fell on the shattered screen “I’m really sorry about that, could I… Make it up to you?” he attempted, trying to push the tremor in his voice.

It was like their heart had remained dormant for all of these years apart and finally, the sight of each other’s slightly aged features kick-started the pumping of their blood to their faces. Her hair were devoid of coloured dye from their teenage years and back to their (Y/H/C) roots and a few wrinkles marked her forehead. He, however, did not change his hair, instead deciding on letting his facial hair grow to a well-kept stubble, the gap between his eyebrows now marked with the years as well.

Damn he had no idea how much he had missed her until she was now standing in front of him. And the years that had gone by since he had last seen her had only made his heart swell some more like it used to. “It’s fine, Duncan, I’ll just get it fixed” he had even missed the way her voice sounded. The young man nodded, reminiscing on the past he had shared with the young woman and trying to find his footing once more. “Let me at least take you for a coffee at some point?” Duncan attempted.

“Just, you know, to catch up?” the young man pushed further, raising his eyebrows in hope. A large puff escaped (Y/N)’s lips and she lightly screwed her beanie back on her head. “I’m in a bit of a hurry right now” her eyes darted out of his gaze, only to find a focal point in the near vicinity. “Not right now” she sighed before starting to push past him “maybe next time” her voice rang again as he watched her run away from him.

Duncan didn’t know how long it took but somewhat he ended up waiting in front of the cafe nearly every day, always at the same time. Until one day, he woke up earlier and made his way to the shop before he would usually show up and he saw (Y/N), nursing a cup of coffee while typing away at her laptop. Unwrapped from her heavy coat, scarf and beanie, he was silently reminded that the years had definitely gone by. It was like he was 17 and falling in love all over again.

When (Y/N) looked up from her laptop, her gaze fell into Duncan’s who offered her a small wave. It took him a couple of seconds to ponder his next moves while she returned the gesture, the indecisive throbbing of her heart making it near impossible for her to look at anything but the tall frame of the one she loved so dearly. The young man made his way to the table next to hers, taking the spot on the wooden chair. The young girl hoped he would just keep his nose in his drink, she hoped he would just leave her to her own device but he obviously thought otherwise, greeting het with a careful “good morning”.

“Good morning, Duncan” her voice whispered back as he sat down next to her. “How are you?” Duncan replied with a genuine smile, peeling off his own coat. “I’m alright, how are you?” she tried her hardest to smile but something in her stomach turned. It had been years but the lingering feeling was still here.

First loves as well as fist mistakes. She promised him he would always be special but right now, she couldn’t help but remind herself they were over for a reason. She reminded herself that, despite the 5 years it took for them to bump into one another, she should not fall in love all over again. But (Y/N) couldn’t help but melt at the soft honey like tones of his voice or the heavenly shades of blue dripping from his gaze. Small talk lead to slight giggles and reminiscing of the happier memories they had shared.

From new jobs to new life experiences, the 20 minutes they had spent talking flashed within seconds. She had settled for a small office position down the road from her apartment, she had moved after important events came and thrashed her life around and he drank her words, eager to learn more and more about the last few years of her life she had spent away from him. “If you’re ever tired of working there, I’m sure I can find a position for you” Duncan even offered.

They were not as young as they used to be, but the maturity that had bloomed through the years made them more calmed and composed. Adults. 27 years old adults. Duncan couldn’t help his heart from fluttering at every laugh his remarks would pull from the woman sitting next to him. How silly he had been to let her go the way he did.

“I see you got your phone fixed” his smile was bright, as if no time had passed, as if they had never been apart. “Yeah, thank you for offering, though, I appreciate it” her voice replied. Duncan fished for a pen in his coat pocket and went to scribble on a napkin. “Here, that’s my phone number, I think I changed it since the last time we talked” he handed her the piece of tissue. (Y/N)’s cheeks ignited again with pools of pinks and reds as she grabbed onto it, unsure on what to do. “I would very much like to take you on a date, could go to that Chinese you loved?” his eyes reached hers, hopeful to rekindle some sort of link with the young girl he fell in love with so many years ago and for who his heart seemed to still beat for.

But her gaze left his to look at the scribble once more. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Duncan” she breathed, her eyes falling on the door opening to a tall frame holding up a little boy. Her fingers stuffed the napkin in her pocket as Duncan looked in the direction of her gaze. His heart seemed to shatter while she watched her stand up, pressing a kiss to the cheek of the man and peeling the toddler out of his arms.

“Duncan, this is Sam, my partner, and this is Liam, my son” she sheepishly introduced her ex-lover to both of the figures. Sam’s hand reached forward to shake Duncan’s while she spoke again. “Sam, this is Duncan, we used to see each other a while back” (Y/N) blushed as she cradled the sleepy boy in her arms.

The sad blue gaze of Duncan’s fell into hers and he forced a smile to the three of them. Taking the last gulp of his drink, he excused himself to (Y/N) as he slipped his coat back on his shoulders, biting back the venom of jealousy coursing through his veins. “It was great to catch up, have a lovely day” Duncan dropped as he waved at her before slipping away from her view.

When she looked up to her boyfriend, the anger burning in his eyes made her aware she would be in for a ‘treat’. Silently pleading for him to keep it in. Sitting back on her chair, she gently stroked the chubby cheeks of her little boy, still half asleep in his mother’s arms. “Was it… His father?” his voice spoke in anger once more. (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance and she bit on her bottom lip. “Why would it matter?” her voice spat as she gently stroked her son’s hair.

“Does he know?” Sam continued, crossing his arms around his chest and leaning back on his chair. Her eyes rolled at his comment and he smacked his hand on the table, making both (Y/N) and Liam jolt up. “I asked you a question, (Y/N)” his voice dripped once more, cutting old wounds open. “Do you think I’m that much of an idiot? I know who he is” Sam’s face pushed further across the table, anger exuding from his pores.

“He is Duncan fucking Shepherd. If anything, the child support he can provide would help you get out of that shithole you call you home”. His words cut through her like she was made of clay and he spoke daggers. “So I’m going to ask you one more time. Does he know?!” The young woman stood up after sitting her son on the chair, wrapping herself in her coat and tucking her (Y/H/C) locks under her beanie before pulling the child back in her arms.

“And I asked you ‘why does it matter’ if he is the father or not?” she spat right back at him, her face inches from him. “I’m done with your shit, Sam. If I wanted to be under surveillance 24/7, I would have dated a cop, not a banker” she finished, dangling her scarf around a neck before making her way out of the coffee shop and leaving him to sear in his own anger and jealousy.

Her feet carried her through the busy streets of DC as she held her little boy in her arms, letting him distract her from the harsh conversation that had transpired and what more was to come. His candid speech had the mother even forget about the interaction as she dropped the little boy to day-care and quickly made her way to work.

It’s only when she made it back home with her toddler and her fingers grazed against the napkin Duncan had scribbled his phone number on that she was reminded of the events of the morning. Looking at the digits penned on the tissue, she pondered on just throwing it in the bin. But the look he had given her before he left was convincing her otherwise. She had to, at least, apologies.

Well, she didn’t have to. She wanted to. So she did, keying in the number she read on the napkin, she typed in the shortest apology she couldn’t muster.

(Y/N): Hi Duncan, I would like to apologies for this morning. I would be happy to have a proper chat over a cup of coffee if the offer still stands. Best of luck, (Y/N).

Sent. Receipt. Read. Her heart stopped and she quickly locked her phone and placed it on the kitchen counter before joining her little boy on the couch. As Duncan tried his hardest to find the words to refuse. She had a whole new life now and his selfish desire to try and pick up the pieces he had broken half a decade ago. But he had so many questions burning his lips and begging to escape his lungs.

Sitting on the chair of his office, he played with his phone, twirling in between his fingers as he tried to formulate an answer to her text. The buzzing of her phone pulled her nose out of the colouring book she was working on filling in with Liam. (Y/N) rose to her feet and gingerly grasped her phone, turning it to see a text from Sam. It was his turn to apologies and without even asking for her piece of mind, he had texted her that he was on his way. Her eyes rolled and her heart stopped when another notification came through.

Duncan: Hi (Y/N)! No worries, it was bold of me to assume you would be free J. Would you rather make it a breakfast or a dinner?

(Y/N): Either sounds good to me, should we see how things are on Friday?

Duncan: Sure thing! I’ll check on you then. Great to speak to you again.

He was trying his hardest to hold back. He couldn’t be the needy teenager he was when she met him. A decade had passed since then and he could not allow his need take the better of him. Duncan was a man, not a boy anymore. However, she brought it back to him. The giddiness and the eager need to keep on texting her. It’s like they were back in high school, when they first met. Before the ever growing love that spurted from them. Before life got the best of them.

A sigh rumbled through her chest while she made her way back to her boy, her phone half-hazardly tossed on the couch while she praised Liam for his beautiful selection of colours he had picked for his butterfly. (Y/N) only left the company of her little boy to start cooking dinner. Looking through the half empty cupboards, she swore under her breath.

A knocking pulled her attention to the door. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she remembered the text Sam had sent her. (Y/N) went to open the door, the frame of the man standing there with a small bouquet of flowers. He made his way in the small apartment, his body language still exuding anger and discomfort.

As Liam heard the door, he quickly ran to hide against his mother, earning a small giggle from the young woman. But her smile dropped when Sam threw something else on the counter. “What is that?” she curiously looked at the large white box sitting on her kitchen counter.

“A paternity test for your new friend” Sam grinned at his girlfriend while she pulled Liam in her arms. “What do you mean?” her voice answered, laced with confusion and some tones of fear when her eyes dropped to his. “Buddy, how about you go and play in your room? Mom and I need to talk a little bit, okay?” the man went to stroke the cheek of the child who nodded, escaping from his mother’s clammy hands and scampering to his bedroom.

“Is Duncan Shepherd the father of your fucking son?!” his voice has hoarse and dry, a hint of alcohol making (Y/N)’s nostrils flare. She squinted her eyes, turning her face to the side as if she could avoid the smell of booze on his tongue. “I don’t want to talk about this, Sam” she whispered, stepping back from him, weary of what was to come. “Because I’m right, isn’t it?”

A few seconds went by with silence, only interrupted by the sharp blow Sam had just delivered across his girlfriend’s cheek. She didn’t budge though. She opened her eyes, tears welling and threatening to spill as the stinging handprint on her face turned into a throbbing pain. That is definitely going to bruise as he allowed himself to smack the spot once more at the lack of an answer.

“You are a coward. Hitting a woman” she spat at him while her tears streamed down her face. A third slap. The last one. “Sam. I need you to leave my house right now” she breathed between her tears as the ache did nothing but throb. The sudden realisation seemed to hit him. “I told you I was done with your shit. Get whatever leftover of decency and clarity of mind you have and leave” her voice trembled. His eyes were wide in shock as he tried to plead for her to forget him. But the only thing she did was to call the police as he cried.

The only way she got him to leave was manacled by the police officer escorting him out of (Y/N)’s apartment. “Ma’am, if you would like to press charges, I will need you to come to the station with me”. Her mind was pleading for her to follow him but all she could think about was the soft cries of her son in her arms. “I can’t leave my son alone, do I have to do it right now?” she asked and the officer shook his head.

“Come to the station when you are ready, but I would advise you to have someone over to discuss it. Domestic violence is very hard to go through and it might be best for you to not do it alone”. (Y/N) simply nodded while she swayed the little boy around. With a bang, the door was closed and the only thing left in the apartment was his little tired cries. The officer’s words rang in her head once more and she pulled her from the counter, considering the choices she had to avoid being alone. The gentle wails of her boy stopped before she could properly think.

(Y/N): Hey, I know this is last minute but could we make it a dinner? Tonight?

Duncan: Sure! Do you want me to cover it? I’ll meet you at wherever! J

A tinge of regret bit her gut when she texted him back with her address. But there was no ounce in her action as she just curled with her boy on the couch, the exhaustion having taken him to sleep. Another knock pulled her to her feet and she found herself checking her reflection. The impact had left a small bruise right on her cheekbone and she tried to hide it by fanning out her hair. When she opened the door, the large smile of Duncan quickly faded at the sight of the dried tears and the not well hidden bruise.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern dripping off of his tongue. All (Y/N) could do was nod and mention for him to come in. “I had an eventful evening to say the least” she glanced at the clock while closing her apartment door behind Duncan. “And it’s not even 8pm yet” she scoffed before inviting him in the living room. He watched her gently lean over the couch, covering her little boy’s face with tender kisses to wake him up.

His confused state brought some sort of qualm to her mother as he snaked his little arms around her neck, returning her kisses to her in a few blabbers. “Buddy, do you remember Duncan from this morning?” she softly whispered as he nestled close to her. His little head nodded and his tired face left the comfort of (Y/N)’s neck to look at the man. “Do you want to say hello to him?” she pepper his temple with kisses, gentle rocking him in her arms.

He whispered a little hello while rubbing his sleepy eyes before yawning and snuggling closer to his mother who quickly praised his politeness. “Sorry, Duncan, I guess this is a bit much to wrap your head around” (Y/N) chuckled. He reassured her, he surely wasn’t expecting his high school sweetheart to be a mother now but he wasn’t surprised about it either.

“Do you want to help mommy cook?” she looked at the little man who eagerly nodded before climbing down from his mother before scampering to his bedroom. “What happened?” Duncan attempted as he took a step closer to his hostess. “Sam got a little handsy and… Jealous, I guess” she rolled her eyes. “He convinces himself that any man around me is Liam’s father” she whispered, placing her cold hand on the swollen lump on her cheek.

Duncan seemed to freeze, her gaze averting his as much as she could but it pulled her right back in. “Your boy’s not his?” the young man wondered, slowly following his ex-lover to the kitchen where she started to pull together what could make a dinner. “No, to be fair, he barely was a boyfriend” she chuckled a bit, trying to relieve some of the growing tension caused by the conversation.

His blue gaze fell into the empty cupboards. “He didn’t particularly like the fact that I didn’t want to tell him who is” she carried on gently, “It’s not a conversation I enjoy having so I usually don’t answer when he asks”. Duncan seemed to piece together some dots. The worry stirred in Duncan’s stomach. “Did he ask if I was?” he finally asked after swallowing the growing lump in his throat.

(Y/N) nodded, pulling a large pot and filling it with water before pushing it on the stove. Duncan walked closer after a couple of minutes of silence fell between the two of them. “He even bought a paternity test to prove it” she scoffed again.

This was wrong, Duncan thought. He shouldn’t wrap his arms around her waist like he did. He shouldn’t rest his head on her shoulder. It didn’t matter if he had been hopelessly in love with her for nearly half of his life. “Am I?” he whispered as he felt her melt into his embrace. She really shouldn’t let her heart flutter the way it was when his breath fanned against her skin.

Her hands went to rest on his arms as if she was giving him a queue to hold her tighter against his chest. “Would you like to be?” she gingerly breathed once the thrumming of her heart got louder. “Why have you never told me?” Duncan pulled out of the embrace and for a second, he thought he might tear up. “Because I never needed to” she span on her heels, a comforting smile on features as she looked up to him.

“So… I’m the father?” his words fell out of his mouth, more as a statement than a question, with a rumble and she went to look at the floor. “No, Duncan, you’re not. Liam has just turned 3” she looked up at him. A heavy sigh left his chest but he wasn’t sure if it was in relief or disappointment. After releasing her own sigh and brushing her (Y/H/C) off of her face, she made eye contact. “His father was… a mistake” she admitted with a whisper.

“I never had the balls to tell him and he fell off the radar anyways.” Her arms crossed across her chest. “Are you… Doing okay?” he wondered as he looked around at the small apartment reminiscing of the empty cupboards. “The offer still stands from this morning, my mom would be happy to have you in the team” Duncan continued.

The rustling of feet came to the kitchen, bringing a happy smile across (Y/N)’s face. Skittish and shy, Liam quickly ran to his mother and asked if he could play in the living room instead of helping, his little heart filling up with happiness when the young woman gave him a nod. “I’m really sorry this happened” Duncan said when the sound of cartoons on TV rang from the living room. “Please let me order dinner, it’s not much but it’s some help, right?”

The slow sound of her whimpers snapped his attention to her and he quickly rushed to pull her in another embrace. His lips hastily found her forehead, covering it with tender kisses while she let herself cry in Duncan’s arms. “I should have never let you go on your own, I should have jumped in the car and followed you. It should be me fathering your children. It should be me filling your pantry with food and providing for the both of you” he whispered in her hair, her hold on him tightening as she clutched on his shoulder for dear life.

“If only you knew how much regret I felt the day we ended it” he breathed in the shell of her ear. Her hand left her grip on his back to reward him with weak little punches against his chest. But his grip on her never loosened.

“I had so much to give you, Duncan. I was so in love with you” she nestled her face in his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt with salty tears. “I still am” he gently whispered, dropping a soft kiss to her temple. “I promised you thick and thin, it was just such an awful timing and I am so very sorry” his voice trembled in his throat as her quiet sobs calmed down with his soothing embrace.

“You still love me?” (Y/N) quietly whimpered, pulling her face out of it’s perch to drown in the ocean blue of his eyes. The sight of her tearful eyes rid him from his speech, all he could do was nod. “I love you like the stars above” he breathed, losing himself in her eyes. “I’ll love you ‘till I die” he carried on before she gingerly pushed her lips against his, a gentle sigh escaping the both of them at the simple touch they had missed and craved for so long.

“Would you give us another chance?” Duncan’s lips quivered as he pulled from her lips and she nodded eagerly before joining their mouths again in a passionate kiss, his hands resting carefully on the small of her back while hers found purchase on his neck.

“Mommy?” pulled them away from one another, Duncan quickly turning away to hide his blushing cheeks. Tears welled up in the little boy’s eyes as he ran to his mother who quickly pulled him up in her arms. “Is your friend going to be mean to you too?” he softly whimpered against (Y/N), trying to give Duncan the meanest pair of eyes he could muster. “No buddy, we’ve been friends for a very, very long time, my friend isn’t mean” she shushed his tears by softly rocking him, her eyes catching the expression plastered on Duncan’s face.

“To prove I’m not mean, I’m going to let you chose whatever we eat tonight, how does that sound, little one?” he leaned closer to the little boy. Liam’s sad eyes turned mischievous in half of a heartbeat, looking back at his mother. “Really?” he asked her and after she gave another look to Duncan, she nodded. “Anything you’d like, honey” she kissed his chubby cheek, turned off the fire under the pot of water and went to crash on the couch with her boy in her arms and her man at her hips.

Hesitantly, Duncan perched his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, pulling her closer while little Liam snuggled closer to his mom. “So, what do you want to eat?” the man asked before watching the toddler stand tall, excitedly throwing his arms up and chanting “chicken nuggets” at the top of his lungs.

His mother looked fondly at him, not able to hold back a laugh before going straight under his tee-shirt to blow heavy raspberries on his tummy, having the boy crumble in heavy laughers against his mother. Fishing for his phone, Duncan quickly scrolled through his apps to find Postmates, quickly working through his own order before passing it over to the woman by his side. When she looked at it, she noticed he had already entered her usual “go-to” menu.

“You expected me to forget your McDonald’s order?” he chuckled while she picked Liam’s Happy Meal before giving him his phone back, a light blush on her cheeks. Her son’s face suddenly twisted and she didn’t even need a word to understand what went through his mind. “Potty?” she raised an eyebrow to him as a confirmation and he nodded before sliding off of her laps. “Do you need me to come?” she asked again as he shook his head, running for the bathroom.

They both could hear the scrapping of his stepping stool on the floor and a gentle chuckle shook (Y/N). “Does it hurt?” Duncan enquired as he looked at the angry shades of purples on her cheekbones. “No, not anymore” she went to poke it a couple of times. “You should put some ice on it” he replies as he stood up. “I’ll bring you some from the freezer” the young man said once more before navigating to the kitchen.

A heavy sigh left (Y/N) and for a moment, she enjoyed the silence surrounding her. It only lasted a few seconds before Liam’s voice rang from the bathroom. “Mooooooom! Heeeeelp!” the little boy whimpered and the young woman quickly rose to her feet to reach the bathroom door. “Can I come in?” she gently asked, pushing the door ajar. The little boy hummed as he tried reaching for the handle of the toilet. “Can’t flush” Liam whimpered as before watching his mother’s hand press on the handle for him. “Let’s go wash your hands now, you dirty boy” she teased, lifting her son up in the air as he giggled to the sink.

Following the gentle laughs, Duncan made his way to gentle laugh of (Y/N)’s boy while holding a flannel holding a few shards of ice. “Here” his voice softly whispered as he lowered the cold pack to her cheek. His hand landed on the small of her back while she watched him through the reflection of the mirror in front of them.

Liam broke the tension as he shouted a happy “Done!” by shaking his wet hands before being placed to the ground by (Y/N). Her body twisted gently, her hand resting on top of Duncan’s as he held the ice on her cheek and then, her eyes met his. Then his lips went to rest against hers with a gentle sigh, grazing the edge of her jaw with his knuckles.

But the tender gesture was interrupted by a loud knocking. Panic quickly pumped in (Y/N)’s veins. Her fearful eyes met Duncan’s once more before he went and fished for his phone. “Must be PostMate. I’ll get it” he pressed a protective kiss on her forehead before making his way to the front door to meet whoever was delivering their dinner.

The smell of fried food quickly filled the space and Liam jumped on the couch, chanting his praise for the fast food carried by Duncan. The young man chuckled at the little boy’s enthusiasm as (Y/N) joined the two men and helped unpack the content of the paper bags. The air filled with the gentle conversation Duncan started with Liam, taking an interest about the boy’s day care program.

Fondly looking at the pair, (Y/N) could not help but feel her heart swell. She, too, had never been able to dampen the quickening of her heart when she so much thought about the Shepherd’s son. She was just about 16 years old when she found herself falling for him. He had the typical bad boy demeanour and when he would take her out in his car to a shady alleyway to get high, she knew he was trouble. Even when after getting arrested and narrowly escaping juve, she couldn’t help but get drawn to Duncan.

While she watched them start to bond, she realised how much she had missed him and how much she loved watching his interaction with the toddler. She wished he had been the one to father the boy. She wished they had never been apart.

Duncan held the body of his girlfriend closer, the pad of his thumb ran across her cheek, wiping away tears that had spilled as while he made love to her. His heart sank in his chest as he watched (Y/N) burry her face in the crook of his neck. His grasp tightened and he finally spoke. “Why were you crying?” he peppered gentle kisses to her temple, another sigh shaking her frame as she held a sob.

“It might be the last time we see each other” she breathed out, her tears staining his skin once more. “I just love you so much, Duncan” (Y/N) propped herself against his chest to crash her quivering lips against her boyfriend’s. “And I love you just as much, babe” his voice trembled as the kiss broke off. “Someway, somehow, once you finish your degree, I’ll be here and I’ll woo you off of your feet and we’ll run away from DC” he reassured her tears away.

 Duncan knew he meant every single words that rolled off of his tongue. The only thing he needed was his girl and he would do anything for her. Even if it meant to let her go so she could bloom and focus on her studies far from him. (Y/N) stirred out of consciousness, falling asleep in the arms of the one she was so desperately in love. She hoped she wouldn’t wake up because it would mean that, in the morning, she would have to jump in her car and drive away from him.

But she did wake up and the pair of arms holding onto her were a cruel reminder of what was about to happen. Slinking out of his sleeping grasp, she reluctantly snuck in his kitchen, cooking what was their last breakfast together possibly forever. The feeling of the warmth of his arms clutched at her heart. But there was just silence between the both of them. They ate in silence, held each other in silence, and got dressed in silence.

 One last look at the clock made the nightmare a reality and with a sigh, (Y/N) sheepishly told Duncan she had to be on her way now. The young man nodded sadly, holding her heavy suitcase on their way down to their car. It was just silence until he loaded her belongings into the trunk of her car. She stood by the driver door of her car, tears flowing again on her face.

Duncan gingerly cupped her cheeks, tilting her head to kiss her once more as he held her tightly, holding back a sob of his own. “So, that’s it?” he whispered, his eyes looking far in the horizon of DC as he quickly blinked his tears away. He felt (Y/N) nod against his chest before their embrace was cut short.

She climbed in her car, lowering her window for him to prop himself on it, stealing a last handful of kisses, each more and more desperate as he felt his heart breaking. “We can do this” he whispered before crashing his lips against hers once last time. “I’ll never stop being in love with you, I swear it on my life” Duncan sobbed in front of her.

 He rarely showed his emotions in public, afraid it would give his surrounding the idea that he was weak but, when he was with (Y/N), his façade melted away. She looked at him in the eyes one more time as she turned on the ignition of her car. “Seatbelt on. And call me when you get there, we can make it work” Duncan said, grazing her jaw with his knuckles. She nodded before finally speaking, “Don’t wait for me, Duncan” she whimpered before closing her window as her heart shattered.

The young man watching his lover drive away, convinced that the distance wouldn’t get between them, convinced that his family wouldn’t get between them, convinced that nothing could take away what they had. But when his mother’s reaction to his heartbreak was a cold “At least now, you don’t have anything holding you back anymore. No more dead weight”, he could only realise how wrong he was to believe this could have worked.

“(Y/N)?” His voice whispered, pulling her out of her daydream. When she shook her head, she realised why his voice was so low, the upper half of her son sprawled across Duncan’s laps, a gentle snore escaping his tired body. She bit back a laugh when she watched the man’s uncomfortable position. “You can move, he’s not a cat” she chuckled before reaching back for the boy.

“I’m going to put him to bed” her voice made Duncan nod, slowly lifting the sleeping child in her arm, carefully cradling him. “Can I come with?” he whispered, smiling softly at the vision in front of him. After watching the young woman nod, he jumped to his feet and followed her as she walked to the boy’s bedroom.

He went to lean against the frame of the door, fondly looking at (Y/N) as she laid her son in his bed, quickly changing him into his pyjamas before tucking him between the folds of his dinosaur print blanket. As she bent over to drop a handful of kisses on Liam’s face, her eyes met Duncan’s adoring gaze, a wave of crimson staining her cheeks.

Her feet carried her to him and they made their way back in the living room. Her frame dropped on the couch, releasing a sigh of relief before she started to gather all of the garbage on the table, silently helped by Duncan. He sat next to her, looking at the woman she became. “I’m sorry I never called” she broke the silence, trying to dismiss the tight knot in her throat. “I’m sorry I never tried to reach out for you” she closed her eyes as if it would prevent the tears threatening to spill from breaking free. “I’m sorry I was always too busy and never tried hard enough to make us work”.

His arms linked around her and he pulled her close to his chest as she kept of pushing apologies past her lips, sobs shaking her body. Duncan ran his hands through her (Y/H/C) locks while drawing soothing circles on her back as she grew silent. “I’m sorry I never visited” he softly whispered, his hand landing on her cheek to caress her skin softly. “I guess I convinced myself that, if it was meant to be, we would end up together no matter what” he stroked her hair once more, his gaze looking for her teary one.

“Look” Duncan caught her eyes in his, “I have never been able to be with anyone else than you and I don’t think I ever will be able to” he shifted on the couch to sit up. “I think you’re the love of my life and if we were the right people at the wrong time, so be it. But I’m here right now and I have not been this happy since you left” her lips caught his in a soft kiss after he spoke. His words resonated with him, she had never been able to get over her passionate love for him no matter how hard she tried. (Y/N) unsuccessfully dated a few men and even a woman at one point, but no matter how much she liked them, no one could quench the ache that her heat suffered from her separation with Duncan.

“Let’s take this chance. Build off of what we left. I want you to be The One” his voice was desperate as he pulled her on his laps, his face now lost against the gentle skin of her neck. “We could be a family” he whispered, his hands flat against her back while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, allowing one of her hand to lose itself in the brown of his locks.

“What would people think?” her voice shook through her throat while she closed her eyes at the gentle contact of Duncan’s breath fanning out against her flesh. Goose bumps ignited her skin. “Fuck them” he said blankly before pecking her neck. “Life has given me another chance at being with you and I’m not wasting it” his lips pressed on her throat once more and (Y/N) sighed. “I had no idea exactly how much I missed you until I saw you” she admitted, giving his chocolate locks a gentle tug at the sensation. Their heartbeat synchronised in a heavy and fast harmony as if they had never been apart. “Are we really doing this?” she whispered right as Duncan laid her down on her couch, his kisses becoming hungrier and sloppier as he hummed against her skin.

As crimson flushed against her cheeks while his lips stained her collarbones with wet trails, she clutched his arms tightly, her eyes opening in shock. “No, we can’t, not right here” she whimpered as he propped himself up above her. Duncan captured his bottom lip at the alluring sight laying upon him. His eyes, dilated and darken with arousal, captured her figure before pushing himself off of her, clutching her hands to help her sit up. “Feel free to stay the night, though” she softly whispered while jumping up to her feet.

Duncan scratched the back of his neck while looking up to her. “You can crash on the couch or… We can carry this on to the bedroom?” the blush on her face seemed to spread further across her cheeks. The young man stood up, his body dangerously close to hers while his lips worked their way across her shoulder some more before playing with her own mouth, his tongue reaching to find it’s long lost mate. His finger slide underneath her thighs as he pulled her up against his chest.

The only thing breaking the fiery dance of their mouths consuming one another was the short whispers she released, directing their intertwined bodies to her bedroom. Duncan gingerly kicked the door shut, satisfied once it clicked into place, he then stepped further in until clumsily bumped on the frame of her bed, having them both tumble on the soft mattress with a few giggles.

It was like they were 17 again and exploring each other for the first time, learning how to love and worship the other’s body. A task they both mastered.

His lips explored the supple flesh of her neck with a soft array of sighs and quiet moans from his lover. A couple of tears prickled her eyes and silently glided against her cheeks and the heaving of her chest pulled Duncan’s out of his worship to look at her teary face. “Honey, why are you crying?” he whispered, shuffling to lay besides her instead of resting between her thighs. His hand reached up to wipe away the salty drops unfurling on her soft features, a concerned frown pinching his face together.

“I just… I’m so in love with you, Duncan” she whimpered as her hand reached to rest of the stubble of his jaw.  “I want you forever and ever” her voice trembled so more and she bit down on her lip to stop it from quivering. “I’ve always said I was going to marry you one day” his face melted into a gentle smile as he pecked her lips. “And I’ve missed you so, so much” she finished in a breath as it fanned against his face, his eyes locked into hers.

His hips shifted to rest on hers once again and as his lips retrieved that sweet little spot he would suck on to drive her crazy, he released a raspy whisper to the shell of her ear. “Honey, remember that time we had to be extra quiet because my mom was sleeping across from us in that chalet in France?”. She eagerly nodded, her legs quivering while his tongue licked a wet and hot strip along she length of her ear. “Well, you’re going to have to make more of an effort to not wake up your son” he withdrew his face from it’s hiding spot against her neck and watched her bite her lips once more. Another nod rattled her face, this time more shy and reserved.

“Good. Because I’m about to make you feel how much I’ve missed you”

______________________________________________________________

Tagging the Killer Queen squad : @shenevertricks, @wroteclassicaly, @idespac, @psychobitchtess, @hplotrfan, @tea-party-at-wonderland, @langdxn, @hecohansen31 & @blakewaterxx

Just let me know if you would like to be tagged whenever I post a piece!

[nelvana]

In which the lake guardians arrive at the town

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which they arrive at the guild Previous: In which two dungeons are explored

    They knew the Lake Guardians had arrived when Pokemon Square became strangely quiet.

    The B Squadron of Team Galaxy, plus Gardevoir, had explained to Spinda and Gulpin what they had found of about what happened to Maurice once they were in a better mindset, and then when Maurice himself got up, he confirmed the story. News like that didn’t stay a secret for long, and while the B Squadron managed to keep them from knowing about the world’s balance still being upset, everyone knew about the Lake Guardians.

    They knew the Lake Guardians had arrived.

    It was only a couple days after Ceebee had left; she had only popped in shortly after visiting Murky Cave to quickly check up on things before returning to the rest of the traveling group. It had only been a couple days since then.

    The Lake Guardians had arrived.

    Bobo was perched on Hiram’s shoulder again when they arrived. He found that he enjoyed perching up high, and Hiram didn’t mind carrying the smaller grass-type around with him. The two of them had been simply wandering around town, waiting for the rest of their group to rejoin them for some missions. Noticing the new arrivals, Bobo poked at Hiram with one of his claws, whispering quietly to him.

    It didn’t take long for the other townsfolk to notice either, and the town grew silent. A tension arrived in the air that could have been cut with one of Hiram’s arm blades.

    Directed by Bobo, Hiram turned to face the trio, along with the lethargic ditto slumped nearby. In the moment, it looked nothing like the beast that had attacked Maurice, but Hiram knew better to underestimate the transformation pokemon.

    “Greetings,” Uxie said once Hiram locked eyes with them. “We, as you may know, are the Lake Guardians. We are on an incredibly important mission from Palkia. Would you happen to know where a gardevoir would be around here?”

    “Nope!” Bobo replied all too hastily, surprisingly Hiram momentarily at his ability, albeit poor, to lie at all. “There’s no gardevoir around here, or ralts or kirlia.”

    Uxie narrowed their eyes with displeasure, “please, do not lie to us. We are aware that you know her.”

    “Why do you care?” Hiram spat, despite knowing the answer; perhaps he could buy them some time for the rest of their team to arrive.

    Out of the corner of his eye, Hiram noticed Bobo gesture to someone behind him. Whoever that was, was well out of his vision, so the scyther kept his stare on the legendary trio.

    “We require her,” Uxie responded courtly, “we also require some others, but we can tell that they are no longer here.”

    “Alright, I’ll cut to the chase. You aren’t getting her, or any of our friends,” Hiram hissed, lowering his body to a more battle-ready position. “We already know that you want to kill them. That isn’t happening.”

    Uxie flinched, but composed themselves quickly. The other two hid their surprise of Hiram’s knowledge better, though Mesprit glanced momentarily at Ditto; considering their options.

    “I see. Spinda warned you then. We would have hoped that he would have come to his senses and chosen better,” Uxie murmured, “that will not stop us, however. We have a mission and we will complete it. Where. Is. Gardevoir.”

    Ditto squirmed under Mesprit’s returned gaze, though it seemed that they would not be forced to undergo a transformation for now. Hiram’s own gaze flitted from the trio to their servant, and then back to the three legendaries. Naturally he wanted to help Ditto, it was his job to help out after all, but he realized he may not have that option right now.

    “We aren’t telling you! You can’t make us!” Bobo shrieked, bouncing on Hiram’s shoulder.

    Something flickered in Bobo’s eyes for a moment, almost glazing like Hiram had seen before with some parasect around the Mushroom forest where his friend lived, but the change disappeared as soon as it appeared.

    Uxie, on the other hand, had their stone on their forehead glow for a few seconds. Hiram could feel almost as if someone was trying to prod around his mind, but the psychic shield Ceebee had begun keeping up for the entire team kept the mind reading at bay. Unable to continue, the glow faded and Uxie’s eyes narrowed again.

    “The corrupt celebi…” they muttered, glancing back at the other two with them.

    Before any of the trio could consider an alternative plan, Rayden, Pearl, and Baguette arrived from the café and stood by their teammates. Baguette’s feathers fluffed up, almost uncharacteristically for how composed he typically was, and both Pearl and Rayden glared down the Lake Guardians. Bobo smiled nervously back at them, and it dawned on Hiram that they were probably who the paras had gestured to before.

    “So, you dare show your faces here!” Baguette snapped, pointing his leek towards the trio aggressively. “You are not welcome here.”

    “We will not be here long,” Uxie replied, unfazed by the threat. “We simply need to complete our mission here. I do hope one of you will be more cooperative than the others. Where is Gardevoir?”

    “BZT. WE WILL NOT BE TELLING YOU EITHER,” Rayden stated, pointing one of his magnets towards the trio, which sparked periodically. “WE KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO DO WITH HER. WE WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN. BZZ BZZ.”

    “You are all foolish and blind. She is contributing to the end of this world. If she is not ended, everyone will be soon,” Uxie growled, seeming to grow irritated with their lack of success.

    “That is simply not true,” Pearl told them, “she, nor any of our other friends are the cause of the world’s balance falling again.”

    “You dare doubt legendaries?” Uxie questioned, “this is simply the truth. You must accept it.”

    “DIALGA WAS NOT CORRECT WHEN THEY KEPT THE DARK FUTURE IN THE OTHER TIMELINE. BZZ. PALKIA IS NOT CORRECT NOW. LEGENDARIES CAN BE INCORRECT,” Rayden responded.

    “We are wasting our time, Uxie,” Mesprit spoke up, turning to their ally. “We should find Gardevoir and leave. We have no need to meddle with these mortals here.”

    Hiram laughed dryly, “it’s funny you think we’d just let you do that,” he said darkly, “we aren’t afraid of you.”

    This was, unfortunately a lie on the latter part. Though he would never admit it, Hiram was terrified of what these legendaries could do to him and his friends. But he also knew that he could not allow himself to back down here. On his shoulder, he could feel Bobo shift his footing restlessly, and Pearl herself had to rest herself down on the ground because of her arms shaking. It was hard to tell how Rayden was feeling, and Baguette was far too consumed by his anger to let fear overcome him for now. But they all stood together.

    “If you continue to oppose us, we will have no choice but to remove you,” Uxie told them, “if you step aside, you will be unharmed. None of you are a part of our mission, you do not have to get involved.”

    “We were involved the moment you started harming our friends,” Baguette replied, continuing to hold his weapon in front of him, straight as an arrow.

    Azelf turned back to Ditto, and Mesprit followed their gaze, the both of them ready to follow through with Uxie’s promise of battle, but Uxie themself held up an arm to stop them.

    From behind the Team Galaxy B Squadron, Maurice marched up front, moving his way to stand beside Baguette, right at the front of the ground and across from the Lake Guardians. His arms and legs shook, but he held himself firm, staring coldly ahead at their foes. His right arm was still in its cast, and he had his hat back on his head.

    “Ah, Spinda.” Uxie blinked. “Admittedly, I had not expected to see you again. Not like this, at least. You have gone back and warned the very people we requested you to stop.”

    “I have,” Maurice replied, holding his head high. “You are wrong about them disrupting the world’s balance, and I won’t let you harm innocent lives.”

    “I would have hoped our message would have brought you to your senses about this, but clearly that is not the case.” Though Uxie did not spare a glance to the bandages Maurice had on his arm, keeping eye contact with the spinda instead, it was clear that was the message they had referred to. “Ho-oh was mistaken about you.”

    “No, they weren’t. Palkia is the wrong one here, not Ho-oh. Ho-oh gave me their feather because I beat their trials and proved I was pure of heart. If anything, this proves that even more,” Maurice insisted, his right arm twitching instinctively to hold his hat, but as he was reminded of its condition, it remained at his side.

    Uxie hummed, “you are courageous, I will give you that. You are, however, still foolish. You will see.”

    “Where did the others go?” Azelf asked suddenly, “if they left, why did they leave Gardevoir behind? You speak of righteousness, and yet those you defend are not as innocent as you claim.”

    “From an outside perspective, maybe,” Hiram hissed, finding his blood boil at that comment more than anything else. “Gardevoir wanted to stay behind to help out here. They respected her choice. You don’t get to talk about innocence when you want to murder the ‘mons you’re talkin’ about.”

    The trio, surprisingly, paused for a moment to take this information in. They were silent long enough that Hiram almost wondered if he said something he shouldn’t have, giving away where Gardevoir was, but eventually Mesprit simply shook their head, looking at Uxie again.

    “Uxie,” Mesprit pressed, “we are wasting time.”

    “This is not a waste of time,” Uxie insisted, but did not divulge more on the subject, even through telepathy as their stone remained dull and dark. “This is your final chance. Tell us where Gardevoir is, or back down. Otherwise we will have no choice but to force our way forward.”

    “Screw you,” Baguette spat, and Maurice placed a gentle paw on his back to soothe his partner slightly.

    “Hold up!” another voice cried out, “you aren’t doing anything!”

    Stumbling over to the group was Spinda, who pushed his way up to stand beside his nephew. Inexperience with this sort of scenario was evident by the way he loosely held himself, unable to quell the teetering that Maurice kept mostly under wraps to be more prepared in case of a fight. From behind Spinda came Gulpin as well, moving to stand beside his partner as well, appearing more nervous than any of the others, but staying firm where he was.

    “We’re going to help too! We don’t want you to hurt Team Galaxy, or Gardevoir!” Caterpie cried out next, squirming his way up to the growing group.

    “Yeah! They’re really nice!” Diglett agreed, helping carry Metapod with him as they followed their friend.

    Pearl’s expression softened slightly, “oh, you three should probably stay back for this…”

    Fortunately, this was a day where both Butterfree and Dugtrio were present with the children, and brought the three of them further back from the others.

    In their place, however, Lombre, Bellsprout, and Snubbull moved up. All three of them not doing terribly well at hiding their own fear, but like the others who couldn’t hide their nervousness, this did not stop them from standing strong by the group.

    Kangaskhan moved up next, her own expression uncharacteristically hard. She stomped her way over to the back of the group, towering over everyone. She palmed a fist in her hand, snarling over at the Lake Guardians. Not long after she arrived, Persian prowled away from her stand as well to join everyone else, her tail swishing behind her menacingly. The kecleon brothers moved away from their store too, stepping up just behind Team Galaxy and those from Spinda and Gulpin’s Café.

    Even as all them showed up, more pokemon continued to follow and join the crowd. Without a single word, they all stepped up to defend against the threat. Various townsfolk who had barely said much at all during the few times the B Squadron had been around, travelers who had just stopped by the café for a drink. A few pelippers flocked to the area as well, and while Peaky and the pidgeotto they had grown familiar were not part of this flock, a few of the pelippers were recognized by the team members.

    Slowly, and yet so suddenly, the crowd opposing the Lake Guardians continued to grow. This had not been discussed prior to now, and in fact Hiram had expected most of them to flee at the first sight of danger. And yet, now nearly the entire town had united together without saying anything. Many of them lacked any battling experience. Against a trio of legendaries plus an impossible ditto, a fight was guaranteed to be a challenge. Even the B Squadron had been scared, but that hadn’t stopped anyone from stepping up and helping.

    The Lake Guardians themselves did nothing to stop the accumulating numbers against them, only watching as more and more pokemon joined the crowd, all glaring down at the now small group opposing them. They did not react, only watched.

    Finally, pokemon stopped appearing from around town to join the now huge group, and silence returned. The citizens of Pokemon Square were clearly waiting to see how the B Squadron would command this further, and the B Squadron themselves still awaited a reaction from the enemy.

    “Curious,” Uxie finally murmured, “all of you… I would never have expected to see this. None of you stand a chance against us, and yet here you stand together. You have so much faith in this Team Galaxy that you would risk your own lives against legendaries?”

    “Team Galaxy has saved our lives!” Snubbull barked, “they have done everything they could to help, and they are doing it again! Even now they’re going out to find what’s really going on here, not your ridiculous theories from Palkia!”

    “We’ve made the mistake of not trusting them before,” Lombre added, “they are our friends and our saviors; we aren’t just going to let you try to harm them without doing something ourselves for once!”

    The rest of the crowd cried out in agreement, molding together as one yell. A yell for what they believed in, a yell for battle. Inexperienced as they were, no one was going to back down.

    “We know you are wrong because they have already found what is causing the disruption of the world’s balance,” Maurice spoke up again, “and they are going to fix this. You insist that killing them will save us, but we know that will only doom us.”

    “And you all believe that?” Uxie questioned, their gaze drifting over the crowd. “You are all foolish, but most interesting.”

    “And you are not welcome here,” Green-Kecleon snarled, “leave this town, or follow through with your threats and meet your defeat.”

    Again, the crowd cried out. It was strange, in a way, to hear them like this. Usually the noise they made together was more akin to a cheer, but this was just a yell. And yet it seemed to carry so much more than the cheering ever could.

    “Uxie.” Mesprit’s voice was quiet this time.

    Uxie sighed, “no, you are right. This is not worth our time anymore. We shall have to return for Gardevoir after removing the others. Perhaps then you all will come to your senses.”

    “Don’t you ever come back,” Hiram hissed, “we’ll still be here, and we can still beat you. This changes nothing, you hear that? Nothing. Never come back here.”

    “You are sorely mistaken. We will return, and there will be nothing you can do about that. You were fortunate to protect Gardevoir this time, but nothing more than that,” Uxie replied, “perhaps, were this for something else, your stubbornness and unity could be inspiring. Unfortunately, you are all on the wrong side of this fight. I do hope you realize what is really happening soon.”

    With that, and an exchanging of nods between the other two, the Lake Guardians turned and left, with Ditto reluctantly trudging behind them.

    Part of Hiram wished to give chase, to provoke a fight. Maybe they could even defeat the Lake Guardians and then save Ditto. He could tell that many of his teammates, Baguette especially by how fury had begun shaking the leek, would follow this idea if he started it, and so would the townsfolk who had joined this crowd.

    However, he was still clear minded enough to know how reckless of an idea this was. If they had to, all these citizens could defend themselves, but they still were not properly trained. Purposely throwing them into battle when given the option to avoid a fight was selfish and a huge risk.

    So, instead they all silently watched as the group left. There wasn’t much to be done, though they may have wished to. They had protected their town and Gardevoir though, and that would hopefully be enough for now.

     And slowly, as all sight of their foes disappeared into the distance, the silence was replaced by a hesitant chatter, and the return of cheering over yelling.

    The Lake Guardians had left, and the town was no longer quiet.

    “I was so scared…”

    “I know, I’m so glad that worked!”

    “We did it! We stood our ground!”

    “I sure hope they won’t come back.”

    “If they do, we’ll defend our town again!”

    “Yeah, with all of us together, and with Team Galaxy, we could surely win!”

    Hiram blinked as he stared over the crowd, allowing himself to slowly relax again. They had done it. They had stopped the Lake Guardians from hurting anyone here. Though worry bubbled up at the back of his mind at the thought of the trio chasing after the others next, but he shoved it back down. They would handle it. Everyone here had done their job, their best.

    Normally he didn’t like crowds. It was why he preferred to live deep out in the Overgrown Forest. But suddenly… with everyone expressing such positivity, a unique oneness that came from bonding together against a common, powerful enemy. No one had to come out to help the B Squadron when the Lake Guardians had shown up, they could have stayed back and left the rescue team to deal with everything alone. And yet so many pokemon had come out, just trusting in them and standing their ground together, without any words. Everyone had unanimously agreed to help, and that felt like that a stark and comforting contrast to the first time Hiram had stayed in Pokemon Square that he found his eyes getting teary.

    They had done it. It wasn’t over for good, but they had done it.

    “Thank you,” he whispered to no one in particular. “Thank you.”

    Gardevoir herself eventually met up with the group, drawn over by the noisy celebration that had begun. Since Ceebee had left, she had taken up to training on her own. Being a quiet spot, and the intended location for training, Gardevoir had been in the Makuhita Dojo the entire time. Makuhita had been there as well, supervising, and Hiram figured that was why he hadn’t seen him join the crowd with everyone else.

    They told her what had happened, and were startled when she started crying. Through her tears, Gardevoir expressed her own thankfulness for being defended like that.

    “I never would have thought that anyone would have done something like that for me…” she admitted.

    “Of course! You’re our friend, we’ll always make sure to help and defend you!” Bobo chirped, having had plenty of time to calm down and return to his usual self.

    “Still, thank you,” Gardevoir insisted, wiping tears from her eyes.

    “Let’s hope now that the others have gotten a good enough head start that the Lake Guardians won’t become a problem for them,” Hiram sighed, finally voicing his worries that had plagued him for most of the afternoon.

    “They will,” Pearl assured him, “they will,” she repeated.

First [ARC 1]: In which the human is transformed First [ARC 2]: In which a present is prepared Next: In which they arrive at the guild Previous: In which two dungeons are explored

[mysaldate]

On the topic of BSD mental issues..

Because a lot of people in this fandom just LOVE to bestow their own mental problems on characters and even go so far as to claim not a single BSD character is mentally alright, I went on a little rant to debunk this bulshit of a claim. If you’re one of those who support the “everyone is mentally ill because I said so” theory, don’t even bother reading this, please, and save us both the time.

If you do read, however, please keep in mind those are just my opinions and analysis and why I personally find the claim that everyone is mentally ill bulshit. You’re free to believe what you want but I’ve had multiple people come spurting out insults at me simply for not believing every single character is mentally diasbled.

First, our beloved ADA Atsushi - He's actually doing really well. Sure, he's not 100% ok but we were given no serious childhood trauma impacts (except for flashbacks that don't really... do anything to him mentally except for motivating him to do better which is, you know, not a sign of mental illness), he doesn't have self-destructive tendencies, he doesn't feel like he owes the society anything but he doesn't slip to nihilism either. His motivations are humane and sane and relatable. I mean, if anyone told you your friends would be in mortal danger if you stay with them, wouldn't you try to get away from them too? Dazai - Ok, Dazai is far from stable. He still handles his issues surprisingly well though and his constant suicide attempts are really played off as a joke, which is not the best way to handle them but it takes a lot of seriousness from it and kind of makes it hard to believe it's what he actually wants to do with his life. Especially since there are times where he goes out of his way to make sure he stays alive (Dead Apple being just one example). Kunikida - Arguably one of the most stable characters in the show. Some people claim he has OCD but have you ever seen an actual OCD patient? His love for schedules and hard time when they can't be kept is something that runs in my family and nobody has ever been diagnosed with OCD. People need to realize that having your life planned out is not a mental illness. Yosano - I'm a little more benevolent about Yosano, especially since she has a more psychotic side to her and she seems actually damaged by her childhood but I stiil stand my point that she is doing extremely well for someone who supposedly has a mental illness. It's almost as if the "insane" side of her was purposedly overblown for comedic purposes. Ranpo - I know a lot of people say he's autistic but I don't agree with that hc. Why? Well, I have a classmate who's not autistic and she's exactly like him. She's smart, almost genius, has great deduce skills and brilliant crime-solving abilities (tested multiple times with Black Stories or whatever that game is called in english) but she is unable to live on her own. She knows close to nothing about real life, skills used for everyday functioning and as for public transport, she only learnt how to use it recently and she's almost 19 years old. I also have an autistic friend who specifically said he'd find it insulting to hear that Ranpo is supposedly autistic. Tanizaki - I'm not sure what to say here, Tanizaki is a normal guy. Nothing special about him. He's willing to go great lengths for his little sister but I think anyone with younger siblings can relate to that. At least anyone who cares for their younger siblings. Kenji - Go on and tell me how Kenji of all people has a mental illness, I dare you. And if you pull out his cheeriness, you're obviously just too depressed to fathom that some people might actually enjoy life. Fukuzawa - Again, one of the most stable characters in the series. Say what you will but he's not unstable and his ability to stay calm at almost any situation except for when his kids are in danger is just further proof of this. Kyouka - I'd say she might have issues. My afforementioned autistic classmate pointed out that she feels autistic to him so there's that. Also her childhood visibly screwed her over. However, she's still surprisingly stable and normal despite all of that so while she might have some issues, they are greatly balanced by her strong will and natural personality. Naomi - I wouldn't say Naomi is 100% ok in the head but not to a point where I'd claim an actual mental illness. Sure, I'm not a doctor but nor is anyone who diagnoses her with whatever it is they diagnose her with. Haruno - And exactly what is wrong about Haruno? She's cute, positive, cheery, hard-working and supportive. And she gets scared in situations that invoke this. Literally NOTHING weird.

Next up is our dear Port Mafia Akutagawa - No denying it, Aku has serious issues. Again though, he's doing far better than most people with similar problems but that could just be due to him letting his frustrations out via murder. Chuuya - No issue found here. Sure, he's a little short-tempered but that's about it. A lot of people are short-tempered without being mentally ill. And he could be portrayed with some serious issues due to his origin and past. Gin - Do we even know enough about her to diagnoze her? All we know is that she's silent, a little shy and that she's always on odds with Tachihara. Make me a diagnosis from that. Higuchi - Aside from her massive crush on Aku, there's nothing weird about her. She probably picked the wrong job but she's willing to work hard anyway to earn her place there,, which is not exactly typical for people with mental illnesses. Hirotsu - STABLE PERSON. Just... what else is there to him? He is literally the voice of reason who commands the black lizard solely because he can actually keep them under control. Geez, there is literally nothing linking him to any mental problem! Kajii - This guy's got issues, no denying it. And I won't even say he could do worse because obviously he could but he's fairly close to being the insanest (is that a word?) he can get. Kouyou - Oh look, ANOTHER completely stable person. I mean, come on, she's been an executive since Dazai and Chuuya were 15, that's seven years. Clearly she couldn't hold her position if she weren't stable. Not to mention, we saw her being stable in stressing situations so. many. times. Elise - She's an ability. No comment. Mori - Yes, he has his issues. But he's the hypercompetent Mafia boss who stayed in charge for a very long time already and there's no sign of anyone overthrowing him any time soon, nor planning to because he's just a great leader, something he couldn't be if he was mentally ill. Oda - Do I even need to elaborate on this? Oda is very probably the sanest person we got, one who sees the wrongs of his past and does his best to overcome them and repent, all of which goes without him being depressed or self-loathing in the slightest. Randou - This has been talked about a lot. Randou is sensitive and impulsive and sometimes acts on emotions rather than rationallity. None of that makes him a mentally ill person. It just makes him a person, a human being we can all relate to. Ace - Ace is a selfish human being who thinks too highly of himself and is manipulative and abusive. Is that a problem? Yes, obviously. Is that a mental illness? Not necessarily and more likely no than yes. He does things for his personal gain and everything went his way for far too long for him to expect it to go any other way. And as we all know, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutelly. Q - Does anyone really think Q is sane?

Now for the group that so many people dislike it’s honestly sad, the Guild Francis - Francis is, first and foremost, a very loving husband and father. He goes on this insane mission to Japan to obtain a mystical object he believes is real but never got any deffinite proof of. Is he naive? Perhaps so. And after he loses, he gets depressed and broken because he finds out his wedding ring disappeared, probably because his wife did something. That breaks him. And honestly? He has every right to break down. It's understandable and human and it does not make him mentally ill. Louisa - While yes, she is very shy and some argue she has some sort of anxiety disorder, all of this can be explained by the fact that she's practically a child. She's 18 dammit. Who could leave their home country at 18 only with an organization of older people, who also all seem very sure of themselves, while having no combat ability and nothing to really bring to the table? If she were mentally weak, there's no way she'd go looking for Francis after his fall, it's actually more likely she'd hurry back home, probably with tears and fear of being arrested if she were to stay in Japan for longer. Margaret - Name me one thing that makes you think Margaret of all people would have a mental issue. One thing. Most of her screentime is her being a vegetable. And while that is certainly a health problem, not a mental health one. Nathaniel - Hey, he was completely ok before meeting Fyodor. Being religious is not a mental health problem and f you if you say otherwise. John - Again, nothing unstable about John. He's not even that selfish, doing what he can to support his family and even picking up the remainings of the Guild to keep the people together and give them new hope because, y'know, hope is very important to people. Lovecraft - He's not even human. You can't apply human mental health logic to him. Herman - We've seen him for how much... 2 minutes total? And even from just that, he seemed like a calm and composed guy. No sign of mental problems whatsoever. Mark - He's hyper, that's what people say at least. But is he really? Kind of hard to believe when all we've seen of him is two scenes of adrenalin rush, one scene where he tries to lift the spirits of his coworkers and one scene where he just decides to go back home because this adventure is obviously over. No sign of mental illness here either. Lucy - A little more visible traumatic impact than with Atsushi and some abandonment issues, which are completely understandable and relatable. Not necessarily a mental illness. Poe - Ok so Poe doesn't feel well in company of others and he is a little psychotic when he gets too into his self-assigned role but 1) introverts are not mentally ill and 2) it's completely natural to get carried away when we witness the person we believe wronged us getting some karma back.

The one group that appeared for such a short time, yet everyone seems to love them, the Rats Fyodor - The most obvious god complex, clearly. He's not sane but he's stable so there's that. Nobody says he's ok, he's clearly not. But he's composed and smart enough to not let his issues control him. Ivan - Part of his brain is literally gone. He's not ok. he can't be. And unless part of your brain is missing too, you physically can't relate to him. Pushkin - Actually a stable, understandable character. Weak men are known through all of history to be the causes of major drama simply because their complexes over being weak lead to them finding joy in torturing the strong. It's not a mental illness, it's just bad character. Oguri - Clearly, Ogugu has issues. Call it survivor's guilt or PTSD or whatever you want, he has issues. Nobody is denying that. Still, he's doing fairly well when not desperatelly trying to seem evil.

I do not feel like doing the Hunting Dogs for the sole reason of me not liking them enough to focus on their mental states but they are pretty much lab rats, artificially enhanced humans and that alone should be enough to explain why I don’t believe in applying normal psychology to them. As for the Decay of Angels, there’s still much more to learn about them so I won’t get into that just yet. And when it comes to the governmental agents, I haven’t read the novels so I only know a bit about Ango and I honestly don’t see how anyone could think Ango has a mental illness.

I repeat again, these are my opinions, based on my experiences and what I’ve studied about mental illnesses (because believe it or not, I study about these things quite a lot). It doesn’t fit except for Tumblr romanticised versions of them and even those are iffy. You’re free to agree and disagree with all of this or with just certain parts but please don’t feel required to share your thoughts, I frankly don’t much care.

With that I bid you goodbye, at least until another thing prompts me to make a long-ass analysis almost nobody will read, nor care for.

[gumnut-logic]

It was the whimper that woke him.

The tent was warm, the heat cube doing a thorough job at staving off the ice cold of outside. The insulated material of the tent itself still rippled with the gust of arctic winds, the muted roar a continual background to everything.

But despite the winds, that soft whimper reached out in the dim light, wrapped around his heart and yanked.

Virgil sat up, the fog of sleep falling from him so abruptly it was dizzying. His brain came online throwing data at him - where he was, events up to now...who he was...

The aurora generator, Max, the Arctic...

Scott.

There was another whimper and Virgil shot to his feet, stumbling towards the sleeping form of his brother on the other side of the tent.

They had dozed while waiting, never willing to give up the opportunity to grab sleep when they could. Max ready to alert them the moment the way was clear.

His brother lay on his rack on his back, his expression one of anguish.

The sight hurt.

Virgil knew Scott had been struggling of late. The signs were all there. The recklessness, the urge to do and do and do. It tore at him, but Virgil was at a loss as to how to help.

He had tried everything he knew already and Scott continued to shrug him off, ignore his advice, his nudges. There had been moments where Virgil had thought he was going to lose his brother in the last year and he was fumbling to find a way to save him.

Save his brother.

The irony was painful.

Scott was a light sleeper. The man bounced from deep sleep to awake at the smallest nudge. The fact he was still caught in the nightmare despite Virgil’s movements was telling.

“Dad.” It was a recognisable whimper and Virgil couldn’t help but reach out.

A brush against his hair. Whispered. “Scott.”

His brother started, his eyes shooting open as he gasped awake. A frantic moment as they latched onto Virgil like a lifeline.

Hi hand continued to cradle his brother’s hair. “Hey.”

To Virgil’s astonishment, Scott blinked away tears as he obviously scrambled to compose himself. “Uh, Virgil.”

There were no words for a moment as the man threw himself into a seated position, rubbing his hands over his face.

Virgil fell back on his heels, giving his brother a moment to pull himself together.

“Want to talk about it?” Tentative and quiet.

“Not really.”

Silence and awkwardness for a moment.

“You mentioned Dad.”

Blue eyes shot at him and just for a moment there was a vulnerability there that shook Virgil to his core.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” To Virgil’s horror, Scott’s voice was shaking.

“Scott-“

“No, Virgil.”

“But-“

“No!”

Virgil’s lips thinned.

Scott turned away, running his hands through his hair. “Sorry, I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Please, just...don’t.”

The hand rubbing his face was unsteady.

If Virgil was honest with himself, seeing Scott like this scared him. Scott was his big brother, always strong, always there. He certainly wasn’t infallible, and there had been times in the past...they always left Virgil uncertain. He was ashamed to admit that he relied on Scott to be the strong one when things were falling apart.

If Scott was breaking under the pressure...

He swallowed and squared his shoulders. “You need some downtime.”

Scott spun to look at him. “What?”

“If you won’t talk about it, you need some time off to work things out.”

He shook his head. “No. No. Not possible.”

“It is.” Virgil sat on the floor staring up at his brother. “It won’t all collapse without you. We can manage.”

“Yeah, right.”

That caused an arched eyebrow, but to be honest, it wasn’t unexpected. “I’m glad you have so much confidence in me and our brothers.”

Blue eyes, stressed and obviously in pain stared at him.

“Talk to me, Scott.” It was a plea. “I don’t bite.”

“Not according to Gordon.”

He rolled his eyes. “He bit me first and you are not distracting me. Talk to me or I’ll ground you on medical grounds and you can talk to someone else.”

That got him. Scott straightened where he sat, anger flaring. “You can’t do that!”

“Just try me.” His lips thinned and he rammed his point home by staring his brother down.

Okay, proof that Scott wasn’t firing on all thrusters as Virgil won the staring contest, Scott’s eyes darting off to the left.

Soft. “I can’t.”

“You can.” The barest of smiles. “You’re my big brother, you can do anything.”

It was a gamble playing that card. It could trigger more stress at the reference to Scott’s position in the family or it could work as intended and bring back the memory of the first time Virgil had uttered those words.

He had only been around eight at the time and well and truly deep in hero worship of his big brother. Truth be told, he had never really lost that worship. It had changed over the years into more of a respect, but there was still that ingrained opinion that Scott was capable of doing so much.

At the time, it was a case of trying to get Gordon’s ball out of a tree. The two of them had been staring up at the ancient oak while Gordon screamed his preschool heart out at their feet. No adult was available and Virgil was too short to reach the lowest limb.

Scott wasn’t.

But they had been forbidden from climbing the tree with a threat of dire consequences.

But they had to get that ball. It was brand new, brought home from Dad’s latest business trip.

“You can do it, Scott. I’ll help you.”

The whole incident summed up their entire relationship. Scott leading, Virgil helping to make it happen.

“I’m not ten anymore, Virgil.”

“But you are still my big brother.” He reached up and placed his hands on Scott’s bowed shoulders. “You will always be our big brother. You don’t have to prove it by working yourself into the ground.” A pause. “Or by trying to kill yourself in the process.”

“I can’t...”

And there is was. A glimpse of truth.

Pushed away by stubbornness.

“I do what I have to do.”

Virgil’s hands tightened on his brother’s shoulders. “Then you will force me to do what I have to do, and ground you.”

“Virgil-“

“No! You listen to me. What happened to Dad wasn’t your fault! You’ve done everything humanly possible to find him, to carry his legacy, to keep us all afloat. But goddamnit, Scott, I won’t lose you like I lost Dad. I can’t do it!” His brother flinched, but Virgil had to push on. “I’m watching you fade away, day by day. And then you throw these stunts that terrify me. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve saved you over the last year? How many times seconds have counted? The uranium mine, Scott. You’d be dead. So fucking dead and then where would we be?!”

The tension in Virgil’s shoulders threatened to travel down his arms and just throttle his brother into understanding. “I’m not you, Scott. I can’t do this without you. And I can’t bear the thought...” He swallowed, taking control of himself. “If not for yourself in the short term, then do it for us. Take some time! And we can work out what you want for the long term. But please, please...just stop.”

Virgil found his heart thudding in his chest, his breath rasping with the urgency to get Scott to realise exactly what was at stake here. It was the expression in his brother’s eyes, wide and staring, a little fear in their depths, that shook the anger from him. There was a moment of pain, everything hanging in the air surrounding them like some life-sucking miasma, and Virgil grabbed his brother, yanking him into a desperate embrace.

It was a cling and he wasn’t sure if it was for himself or to reassure Scott, but either way, it was sorely needed.

Scott’s arms hesitated, but eventually wrapped around Virgil’s back, fingernails scratching against uniform fabric.

Uniform. Virgil’s eyes closed as his grip tightened and his head fell to Scott’s shoulder.

“Virg-“

“You’re more important.”

“I-“

“Please, Scott.”

His brother didn’t answer immediately, shifting in Virgil’s grip before gently tugging away.

Virgil let him go.

Scott wouldn’t look at him.

It was frightening to see his big brother like this.

“I...I think it is kind of ironic.” Scott’s voice was quiet.

A frown. “What?”

“That we are both afraid of the same thing.”

Virgil stared at him, no words, waiting.

His brother swallowed as if steeling himself before catching Virgil’s eyes. “I can get there first. If I can do what has to be done, I...you and the others don’t have to.” Blue eyes bled honesty and not a little fear, but Scott let out a desperate little laugh looking away. “I can’t lose you either.”

“God, Scott.” Virgil resisted the urge to grab and hug his brother again, instead resorting to grabbing his hand. “We are stronger together.”

Something broke and Scott’s face screwed up. “Virg, you weren’t there. He was...” Fingers were ripped out of Virgil’s grip and Scott buried his face in his hands. “He was just gone. I can’t...”

Virgil reached up and gently pulled those hands away. Scott’s face was strained and red where his hands had been jammed against his cheeks.

His eyes shone.

Words caught in Virgil’s throat. What could he say? That he and his brothers weren’t going to die? That everything was going to be all right?

He would be lying.

He couldn’t promise anything...any more than Scott could in kind.

“We could shut down International Rescue.” But the words hurt and Scott immediately tensed up.

“No. We do this for Dad. For Mom. For everyone who needs saving.” Simply saying the words put the spark back into his brother’s eyes. It was a mantra, a core philosophy, a reason why they did what they did.

“Then we do it together. We watch each other, protect each other and save each other. We do it together, Scott, and keep each other safe.” A swallow. “I need my big brother, not his sacrifice.”

Scott stared at him. One hand slipped from Virgil’s grip and reached for the side of his face. Gloved fingers brushed across his cheek bone, tangling in his hair.

Whispered. “Okay.”

The barest of smiles flickered across Virgil’s lips. “Thank you.”

And he was being pulled into a hug, Scott dragging him close. Virgil’s arms wrapped around his brother and for a long moment they simply held each other.

There was a tightness in his chest and Virgil had to blink several times to clear his vision.

Maybe this had worked. Maybe Scott would take the steps toward not risking his life so often. Please, God, keep him safe.

A particularly strong gust of wind shook the tent and broke the moment, the insulated material banging against the metal frame.

Scott pulled away and Virgil let him go, falling back onto his heels once again before creaking to his feet. Neither spoke as Virgil made his way back to his bunk. The whole conversation had been exhausting.

“Virgil?”

He turned back to his brother. Scott was still sitting on the edge of his bed. “You were wrong.”

What? God no.

“You do bite. You sink your teeth in and hang on until you get what you want.” Scott’s expression was solemn. “Thank you.”

Virgil smiled a little sadly at him. “I do what I have to do.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[jeichanhaka]

The Robbed That Smiles

Chapter Thirteen

Rubbing the edges of his forehead, a vein on one side popping out slightly, Mordo staggered a bit. The spell he’d just used had taken its toll, both in the casting of it and in the effort expended to keep its source contained. As though responding to his temporary weakened state, a bunch of chains rattled behind him: the power source of his spell struggling to free itself.

Wrapped in chains of forged metal and magics, and sealed in a space within which a constant binding spell was in effect, was Vision. Barely conscious and warded back with potent magic and beyond human technology, the sentient android who had once been simply an A.I created by Stark, looked up at Mordo. Exhausted and unable to speak after the wizard leeched power from him for his spell, Vision could only scowl.

“I take it, you’re finished?” Came another voice, its owner stepping forward with an air of arrogance. The haughtiness developed over years of believing everyone around you was a fool. “I assume this makes up for the upset I caused your plans?”

Still standing nearby the prison housing Vision, Mordo shifted his gaze from the android to the other man. “Only if you stick to your promise to keep your machinations from ruining my plans again, Dr. Pendrick.”

“Of course.” Pendrick replied, his countenance still smug though his voice sounded contrite. At least briefly. “Are you sure you don’t want to do a tiny thing for me? A favor that’d surely be child’s play for someone with your capabilities.”

Studying the other man, particularly his arrogant posture and demeanor, with a reproachful eye, Mordo said nothing. His attention turned back to the imprisoned Avenger and the binds entrapping the fellow. The power, ingenuity, and tech behind the contraption unnerved the wizard. The mere presence of alien technology being used in it pointed towards Pendrick’s ambitions being more than what the wizard had first assumed. More dangerous. Schooling his unease from showing on his face, Mordo turned away. Not towards Pendrick, but towards a heavily bolted door.

Inscribed with an array of lettering resembling sanskrit in certain ways but completely alien in others, the door drew the sorcerer’s eye. It would attract anyone’s eye - an imposing, heavy metal door sealed in what amounted to a laboratory dungeon would spark curiosity in anyone. Even without the incantation-esque writing drawn around it or the particular microchip-wire design superimposed beneath said lettering.

“...what is it you had in mind?” Mordo turned back to Pendrick and asked, his voice and posture composed. Neutral and noncommittal. Pendrick half-smiled at that, but didn’t answer the other. Instead glancing from the sorcerer back to the imprisoned Vision, but without focusing on the Avenger. It was the binds that got his attention, not the sentient android.

Pendrick continued staring at the binds and muttered. “Nothing this moment. I simply wanted to know if you’d be open to aiding me, if I ever request it. If you have qualms or doubts of any sort or think you will, then our business is concluded.”

“You haven’t mentioned what you wanted. How can I decide if you haven’t even said what….”

“You either agree to help or you leave. Simple as that. With what - that I’ll reveal when you’ve agreed.” Pendrick continued, waiting for Mordo’s answer. “Before you dismiss me outright though, may I suggest you mull over how I captured this marvel of sentience before us,” He gestured towards Vision. “...despite the power it possessed and ask yourself: is your magic on par with an Infinity Stone?”

“Infinity Stone?” Mordo muttered, staring at Pendrick with a wary glint in his gaze. The other man simply returned the stare, the ghost of a smug smile tugging at his lips. A hundred or so seconds passed in silence as neither man spoke, just kept focused on their spur-of-the-moment staring contest. The wizard broke first, briefly glancing away and grimacing at their surroundings before addressing Pendrick. “...when did he contact you?”

Pendrick tilted his head, his arms folded in front of him. His body language feigned bewilderment while his eyes lit up with understanding. “He? Who are you talking about?”

Mordo glowered at the scientist, ready to portal the other man into a worse place than Rogers and the soldiers. “Deny it if you want, I know he contacted you.” The wizard paused, waiting for the other man to reply. When no response was forthcoming aside from a raised eyebrow, he continued. “He’s the only one who could have provided you with all this alien magic and tech.” The wizard muttered almost under his breath and gestured around at their surroundings, a dour expression on his face.

Pendrick eyed the wizard wordlessly and took his time to mull over the other’s words. He turned away from Mordo, his expression losing none of its smugness. “If you know that much, you realize going against me is ill advised. As is not aiding me in my endeavors.” The threat in the scientist’s words hung heavily over the other. Despite that, Mordo scowled and clenched his jaw tighter.

~0~

Sitting in a room that was little larger than an economy-sized walk in freezer, Finley Morfield attempted to calm his racing pulse by taking a few deep breaths. The composure he’d shown during his meeting with Thor and Strange nonexistent. Yesterday he had his government position to protect him and the guaranteed backing of at least a few senior agents and officials to circumvent any fallout. After all, his actions and decisions had all been to secure the country against the mischief god, and any other possible threat.

Now though…

With the attack on the Sanctum having failed to secure Loki while also resulting in some US soldiers going missing, the ‘guaranteed’ backing he had counted on was untenable. Even the senior officials who wouldn’t be bothered by his failure would likely refuse him any support now, considering his past in Hydra was likely now known to the Avengers. His superiors and fellow agents in the Mediation and Evasive Defense department had already known about it when he was brought in, full-disclosure of his past having been a requirement of the deal he struck to avoid being tried with other ex-Hydra. But most others did not.

Something that was certain to change now that the Avengers - especially Stark - knew. And it wouldn’t matter that he was now as anti-Hydra as the billionaire inventor. He was screwed.

-“I see you decided to take advantage of the accommodations.” Said Stark over the speaker system, his voice coming from just under the surveillance camera in the top left corner of the room. “Unfortunate. I actually liked that chair.”-

Morfield clenched his jaw at the comment and its implied meaning, but made no protest. Three years ago or if anyone else had made the comment, he might have and had actually done so a few times, but not now. He understood the Avenger’s irate.

-“No comment? Huh. No protest that since your reasons for working for Hydra were financial that my comment is inappropriate? That you’re not like those who actually believed in its doctrine?”-

“No.” Morfield replied. “You can say and make whatever comments you want. I did work for those bastards once so I deserve it.”

-“Huh.” Muttered Stark and there were a handful of seconds of silence over the speakers, during which Morfield assumed the Avenger was either assessing him or communicating with his fellow Avengers. Judging by the scathing vocal tone the billionaire used, Morfield wouldn’t have been surprised if the other had assumed he’d defend his past. Or denied it mattered. “You’re not like what I expected. You actually sound...”-

“Contrite? Regretful?” Morfield finished the other’s sentence.

-“‘Genuine’ was what I was about to say.” There was another pause, this time with static and ruffling noises coming over the speakers, signs that Stark hadn’t bothered muting his end this time. The silence lasted upwards to two minutes before the Avenger spoke again, and when he did, his demeanor was slightly changed. “Agent Morfield, the current director of SHIELD has already given authority to my team to interrogate you. According to SHIELD and your department’s head, you weren’t authorized to do anything but negotiate with Thor about his brother....”-

“Negotiation was getting nowhere.” Morfield growled, glowering at the camera. “It was clear neither the thunder god nor the wizard were being impartial, despite evidence, to the threat of Loki having the….”

-“Thor’s brother doesn’t have the Tesseract.” The billionaire interrupted gruffly, his voice seeping with displeasure. “Believe me, I’d be the first in line to lock Loki up if he did. He doesn’t have it.”-

“Then the liar god has you fooled and if you can’t see that….”

-“Fucking shut up.” Spat Stark, the anger in his voice striking even over the intercom speakers. “Your buddies’ attack on the Sanctum almost caused fatal injuries to a pregnant guest staying there. And it seems one of your colleagues was a hitman sent specifically to target her.” The Avenger paused and watched through the surveillance camera as Morfield paled.-

“Pregnant? Rains’ target is pregnant?” Morfield’s eyes widened, horror lightening his cheeks. ‘Is that why Mordo deviated? Qualms against harming an innocent?’

-“Curious. You genuinely seem horrified.” Drawled Stark, disbelief coloring his voice along with spite. And an undercurrent of rage, one that quickly flared up as he continued. “Too bad your Hydra buddies two years ago didn’t have the same sympathies. I’d still have a daughter.”-

Morfield started, the horror in his countenance shifting to shock mixed with repugnance. As well as the first real glimmer of regret in his eyes. The topic change was swift, but he understood what the other man alluded to. “My Hydra buddies? I left those bastards several years ago. I testified against and outed many of them. I….” He sucked in a breath, realizing fully what Stark had assumed and what the man didn’t know. “You think I’m working for them again. I...you haven’t read my file, yet. The one kept by SHIELD’s director and Homeland Security.”

-“I plan to after we finish our chat. I admit I am interested in how you hoodwinked….”-

“I haven’t hoodwinked anyone! I hate Hydra the same as you. Similar reason too. That’s why I joined the department of Mediation and Evasive Defenses.” Morfield seethed, the anger in his voice as vehement as Stark’s. “Those cowards kidnapped and killed my nephew two years ago, same as your daughter and so many other children. If you think for one second that I’m working for them now or that….” The agent trailed off, his gray eyes livid. His fists clenched tightly, his nails nearly breaking the skin of his palms. He heard a click as Stark muted his side of the intercom system, allowing a heavy silence to permeate through the room. It lasted a while, long enough for the quiet to become uncomfortable and for Morfield to flinch when static came from the speaker. He settled himself and watched the camera, expectant for the Avenger to resume his interrogation.

An alarm trilled from over the intercom instead, killing the silence and causing Morfield to jump out of his chair.

~0~

“Really?” Loki muttered as the fifth door shut in his face and the deli’s owner locked and bolted the door. Four other places he had tried before this one: one corner store, one grocery, and two restaurants. None of them would serve him or allow him to step inside, not one of the owners even waited for him to explain what he wanted before sealing their entrances.

It would be simple work to break in, of course, his illusion magic alone would provide an easy way to work around the Midgardians’ stubbornness. Or he could strongarm his way in, using his godlike strength to coerce the mortals. But that would lead to the Avengers getting on his case once they found out. While using illusion magic to disguise himself just to shop...enraged him. Over the past year he had cultivated a rapport with these five particular businesses, having gotten fed up with being viewed with fear and suspicion.

Having put in the effort to build rapport with these mortals, being forced to use his illusion magic to trick them was irritating. What point was there to cultivating goodwill if it didn’t benefit him when he needed it? To make things more irritating, until a short while ago, these business owners were open to him. Allowing him unfettered use of their stores and to buy either with Midgardian currency or through ‘quid pro quo’ arrangements.

It was obvious to him what this sudden refusal of theirs to serve him stemmed from: The Statue. Whether his switcheroo or Strange’s was uncertain, but it was the only significant thing that would warrant their ostracisation of the god.

“After I helped….” Loki scowled, backing away from the door after briefly considering magically locking the deli and imprisoning its owner. Instead he glanced at the apartment windows above the deli, a vindictive smirk spreading over his lower face when he saw the window to the deli owner’s apartment was open. “Mrs. Watts, your delightful oaf of a spouse has been seeing that red-headed floozy from the bar again. Just this week. You know the one - thirty years younger than you with the ginormous…”

There was a loud screech as the deli owner’s wife heard him, the sound as harsh and vehement as a harpy and followed by the thump of a door swung violently open. Loki grinned and walked off, paying little mind to the spat his words had triggered. He had already caused similar fusses at each of the other four places after being ignored. Ranging from reporting terrible sanitary conditions to revealing money laundering and cheating - each tidbit having come to his knowledge through his quid pro quo arrangements with the businesses’ owners. (It was curious how little these Midgardians cared to hide things from him, even those whose arrangement with him hadn’t included help concealing their lies.)

‘That’s done. Now where to get Selfie something to eat?’ Loki searched around, strolling down the sidewalk. His smile smaller as his focus switched back to finding his doppelganger sustenance. ‘Something healthy yet tasty….’

Stopping abruptly outside a random storefront, the mischief god frowned. His eyes narrowed and he made no effort to move, a curious sensation running up and down his spine. Similar to what the Midgardians would describe as a chill, he recognized the touch of non-Midgardian magic. More interestingly, he picked up traces of Vanaheim derived seidr along with Jotunheim frost. And hints of something else, more sinister, that made him want to bristle.

He settled instead on deepening his frown and eyeing the storefront window, taking advantage of the glass and lighting to watch the reflection of his surroundings.

“It’d be best not to resist.” Said a voice, one familiar and whose owner stepped close enough into view for Loki to see them reflected in the window. The trickster god’s stare grew livid and wary seeing his interloper, even more so when the other’s partners stepped into view. “Now be a good little god and give us the Tesseract.”

Loki scowled, leering at those approaching him through the reflective glass. The main intruder, the one that had spoken to him, hung back though while his two partners neared the god. Curiosity colored Loki’s gaze, lessening the expression of his anger and his wariness. “...you and your master have been busy.” Said the mischief god, turning around to face those that had approached him. One was adorned in metal armor embellished with rune designs that were rarely seen outside Vanaheim and were rife with seidr energy. The other was a male Jotunn, sparsely armored and towering over them in height, although he was average size for his race. Neither of them were known to Loki, though judging by the clan markings he bore, the Jotunn was one of Laufey’s kin. Loki scowled.

“Of course. Thanos’ vision for the universe is not something to be halted forever. Even by the setback three years ago.” Ebony Maw paused and stood calmly in the middle of the street, completely unfazed by the angry and confused humans shouting at him. A few of the human onlookers scurried off, either through instinct or from recognizing Loki and realizing something dangerous was about to happen. Most did not though.

“Setback? A...oh.” Loki drew his lips into a grin, one subdued and mirthless; the rest of his face bearing a rigid, regal countenance. Identical to the airs he put on while imprisoned in Asgard, and equal in obscuring his actual emotions. ‘The Tesseract.’ His lips pressed into a thinner line, a heavy frown that masked his rising trepidation. ‘Of course. They wanted it and I left it on Asgard to be destroyed…’ He grimaced and pulled his jaw taut. ‘I really should’ve just bloody taken the thing.’

“Hand over the Tesseract. Denial is futile. We know it’s on this planet.” Said the Vanaheim battle mage, brandishing a heavy spiked mace that was laden with seidr. Either an adult female or young male judging by the voice, the armored stranger closed the remaining space between themself and the mischief god. Ebony Maw hung back and watched, as did the unknown Jotunn.

Loki rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Seconds later the battle mage lunged at the god, swinging their magic endowed mace. In those same seconds the mischief god’s illusionary form flickered away and he flung a few daggers at his enemies backs from where he’d reappeared. One for each of them. None of the blades found their mark - two were dodged, and one caught mid-throw. Loki scowled and slipped behind an illusion.

‘Norns, of all the….’ The mischief god seethed in his head, considering his options while the Midgardians that hadn’t already fled now did so. Alarmed by the skirmish, they scurried away or hid inside the buildings and shops lining the street.

~0~

“Fuck.” Hissed Stark inside his Iron suit as he was thrown backwards by a bulky-armored intruder. Similar to the humanoid creature that had attacked yesterday with the maul, this new intruder also said nothing. Just attacked. Swinging its spiked fist at the Avenger within seconds of the tower alarm sounding. The billionaire barely had time to shield himself within his iron suit before the being’s fist contacted his torso.

Despite the protection of his iron suit the punch winded him and threw him against one of his workshop’s tables. There his arm struck the edge, and though the impact was buffered by his suit, a sharp burning pain shot up his arm. He sucked in a breath. Realizing only moments later, after his fellow Avengers in the room drew the intruder’s attention towards them, that his injured arm was the same one that had bothered him since yesterday.

Stark swore. The pain shooting up his arm was paralytic and even through the din of fighting, he heard one of his fellow Avengers asking if he was all right. “I’m fine. Just….” The inventor hissed, his answer cut off by a sharp twinge. Seconds later, he scowled and forced himself to ignore the pain best he could and dive back into the skirmish.

He managed to get a few energy blast hits in on their mute attacker, helping to wound him just as an explosion rushed through the building. Originating close to where the agent Morfield was being held, the explosive shockwave sent him flying into a wall or some other unyielding surface. And he gasped in pain as his arm struck whatever he crashed into with enough force to snap in half if not for the protection of his iron suit. Instead he blacked out, unable to ignore the burning agony pulsing from his hand.

[infinite-inferno]

Even a Hero Needs Some Help Every Once in a While

Fandom: Jacksepticeye

Genre: Angst/ I guess hurt/comfort

Characters: Jackieboy Man, Henrik von Schneeplestein, Chase Brody, Anti (mentioned), Marvin the Magnificent (mentioned), Stacy (mentioned), Jack (mentioned)

Content warning: neglect of physical and mental health, depression, vague mentions of medical stuff, suicide mention, I guess you could read it as a mention of abuse, alcoholism, it gets positive and happy at the end though I swear

Jackieboy Man had a duty to fulfill and couldn’t afford to take a day off, not for his physical health, nor for his mental health, despite how frequently he needed one for either reason. But, he had to be on patrol every day, no matter what anyone said, because if he wasn’t then criminals would be able to get away with whatever they wanted, and he couldn’t live with himself if something happened because he wasn’t there. 

Today was another day where he really could’ve used a mental health day, but there was no way in hell he was doing that. So, he neglected his mental health and in doing so, his physical health also suffered; days like these he either ate way too much or didn’t eat at all, slept for either 12 hours or 2 hours (typically the latter, as he had to be with his brothers during the day or else they would get concerned, and that definitely couldn’t happen), he bottled up his emotions until his was absolutely alone (which rarely happened) and if by some miracle there was nobody else in the house or around anywhere he cried until he ran out of tears or was no longer alone, whichever came first (or he just felt so numb he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything, let alone cry and release his emotions). And today in particular he looked like absolute shit, as he had been having a bad day for going on 2 weeks now, and everything just kept building up and he was starting to wonder what his breaking point was and when he would reach it. 

His great solution for all his issues? Intense training all day, not stopping for any breaks, chastising himself over every tiny mistake that wasn’t even noticeable, and just working himself beyond his limits, but the pain, cuts and bruises were too much for him to continue on, so Jackie had to stop and do some quick first aid before he could go back to training. Schneeplestein found him rummaging through his medical supplies, attempting to take care of the injuries he gave himself. 

“Jackie… vhat are you doing?”

He whipped around, face pale and Henrik wasn’t sure if it was due to his medical condition or due to the shock of being found out. “... nothing…?”

“Bullshit, zat does not look like nozing. Spill, or else I am calling Anti.”

Jackie sighed and sat down on the table they used for any time Henrik had to treat injuries (which were typically Jackie’s). “I’ve just… had a couple bad days I guess. I’ve been training all morning to try and get myself out of this funk I’m in and get back to normal,” he then mumbled so quietly that Henrik strained his ears to hear it, “whatever that even means.” He returned to his normal volume to say “you don’t need to worry about me Henrik, I just hurt myself a bit while training but it’s nothing serious.”

The doctor bit his lip, not buying a word of it. “Vould you consider zis uh funk, as you called it, similar to Chase’s bad days?” Henrik eyed him warily, observing his reactions. His medical training tipped him off that Jackie was hiding something, as well as his own two eyes. 

Jackie’s reaction was immediate. “What?! No! Chase’s bad days are due to his depression, and I’m not depressed.” 

“Zen vhy are you being so defensive right now?”

“Because… because…” Jackie’s eyes filled with panic as he couldn’t come up with a reason. But he couldn’t be depressed, right? Nothing like what happened to Chase happened to him, he didn’t have any reason to be depressed so that couldn’t be it. Something just threw him off his groove, that’s all. 

“Because,” Henrik supplied, “you don’t vant to admit to yourself zat you have any veaknesses. Ja?”

Jackie, aware he was being read like a book, decided to just give up, putting his head in his hands and blinking back tears. He composed himself before huffing. “Fine. Maybe. But I’ll just get over it, and be right as rain soon enough. Please, don’t worry about me.” 

Henrik took a breath, keeping his skepticism to himself. “Ok. Vhat injuries do you have? Do you need mein help in treating anyzing?”

Jackie went quiet, nodding slightly, taking off his hoodie to reveal a once form fitting shirt that now hung loosely on his too-skinny frame. He lifted part of the shirt up to reveal a plethora of large lacerations that had been sloppily bandaged by Jackie, and Henrik was trying not to dwell on how thin he was and how he could see too many of his bones. “Yeah this happened last night, but I didn’t want to wake you or anything… I don’t think I cracked my ribs because that would hurt a lot more but there’s definitely a lot of cuts there… I did my best but I might need stitches doc…” Jackie looked down, embarrassed. The doctor didn’t say anything, and just got right to work. 

“Bite down on zis, I know you’ve done it before, but zis vill hurt.” He gave him a belt that was hanging up specifically for times like these. Jackie did as he was told, and sat through all the stitches he was given. It hurt like hell, but that’s what he got for not being careful enough. 

When Henrik finished, he took a deep breath, watching Jackie put his shirt and hoodie back on, deciding to go for it now. “Hey, Jackie…” he started softly “vhen did you last eat something?” 

The hero had to think about it for a decent amount of time, which was already a bad sign. “Well, I’ve been having some gum but not swallowing it, if that counts-”

“Nein.”

“Why does it even matter?”

“Goddammit answer ze damned question!”

“Okay, okay, jeez. Uh, I’m not sure…”

“Vas it today?”

“No.”

“Yesterday?”

“No…”

“Vithin ze last veek?”

“What day is it?”

“Ze 10th.”

“Then I don’t think so…” At that, Henrik abruptly grabbed the weary hero’s arm and dragged him into the kitchen, passing a confused Marvin on their way in. 

“Sit.” Henrik ordered in a tone that did not leave any room for debate once they got there and to the table. Jackie did as he was told as Henrik began making food for him - a piece of toast and some soup, the same thing that people who were sick typically had. At the realization, Jackie mumbled something about him not being sick, and if Henrik heard he chose to ignore it. “Vhen did you drink vater last?”

Jackie gave the type of laugh where he aggressively exhaled through his nose, not a full laugh but something, before responding with “fuck if I know. But I’ve had a shit ton of coffee and gatorade though?”

“Neither are vater, und you cannot substitute gatorade for vater, no matter vhat you zink.” He poured a large glass of water and placed it in front of Jackie, demanding that he drink it. Again, his tone was no nonsense and Jackie knew if he even tried to argue he wouldn’t win, so he reluctantly complied. As soon as he finished the glass Henrik immediately went to refill it, so he would keep drinking more and more water. When the food was ready, it was placed in front of him, and the smell was both enticing and nauseating. But he couldn’t dismiss it, as Henrik was staring at him, making sure he ate it. He started with the soup, starting by just taking the broth. “You know you need to eat more zan just ze broth ja?” 

Jackie rolled his eyes and took a bite from the soup. “Happy?”

“I vill be once you finish ze food.” 

He sighed as he slowly continued eating, the time between his bites getting longer as he went on, and he hated that he was wasting all this time. I have better things to do than to sit here and eat he thought. Or well, he thought it stayed in his head. 

“Nein. You need to eat mein friend.” 

“But Hen, I need to keep training!”

“You vill not leave zis house until you can prove to me you can take care of yourself. Und for ze next couple of days you vill not be training either. Vhen vas ze last time you slept a full 6-8 hours?”

“Ummm… I dunno, it’s probably been at least a month if not longer. Usually if I can get to sleep it’s only for a couple of hours… oh wait no I had a nice long like 11 or so hour rest like a week and a half or so ago. But before that it must’ve been…” he couldn’t finish, because he had absolutely no idea. 

Henrik looked at the amount of food in front of him, and decided that he ate enough (he would’ve preferred if he ate the whole thing but he could tell the bites were on the verge of being forced, and that would not be helpful. “Screw ze rest of ze food, you are going to sleep now. If you are hungry vhen you vake up, you can have somezing more. But for now, you sleep, ja?” 

Jackie nodded, glad that he didn’t have to try and eat anything more. Granted, this meant he needed to sleep, and he wasn’t sure how easy that was going to be, but it still wasn’t eating. He stored away the soup and just tossed the few bites of toast he had left before putting the dishes in the sink to be washed later by one of them. He then made his way to his room, flopping on the bed and resisting the urge to take out his phone and spend hours just scrolling, because then he would never get to sleep. Instead, his mind kept him busy, berating him for letting Schneep see him like that. The next thing he knew, he checked his phone and a bit over an hour had gone by already. He sighed, deciding that since Henrik was the one who wanted him to sleep, he could help him to actually fall asleep. 

“Hey Hen?”

“Vhat are you doing out of bed?”

“I’m having… I’m having trouble falling asleep. Do you have any like… melatonin or something? Any kind of medication I can take because this is not working out.”

Henrik’s face softened, and he went to where he kept the medicine and unlocked it (Chase is the primary reason it was always locked) and sifted through a number of bottles before landing on the right one - the Trazedone bottle (he could’ve given him something else, but it also acted as an antidepressant, and he had a feeling Jackie could use one). “Before you take zis, und be honest, have you had any suicidal zoughts or actions? I von’t tell ze ozers if you’d like, but as a doctor I need to know.” 

“No, I mean I don’t take care of myself as well as I should, obviously, and I might get myself into dangerous situations when on patrol, but like I haven’t really thought about like, dying - not a lot at least. I mean if I did, it was once or twice or something, and I snapped right out of it because that’s not me. That’s not my normal.” 

Henrik nodded and opened the bottle, handing him 2 pills. “You may vant to eat a small somezing vith zis, und I am not just saying zat so you vill eat. You can have a candy bar for all I care, but it vould help to reduce any negative effects it could have.” Jackie nodded, and got out a small Hershey chocolate bar, eating that and then taking the pills. He thanked Henrik and went to his room, where he finally began to have a decent sleep. 

Jackie woke up and freaked out when he saw that it was 1am because he should be on patrol right now what is he doing sleeping?! He sighed and rolled onto his back when he remembered Schneep put him on bed rest for a while, and rolled his eyes. He stood up and went to get his suit, figuring that it wouldn’t hurt to go out for a little while, but he found that where his suit should be, there was a note instead in a familiar messy scrawl. 

‘I told you, you’re on bedrest. That means no patrolling for you. You may think that me taking your suit is a bit extreme, but you are just so predictable, and I want to make sure you stay safe, because I care about you. Now, I know you will not go back to sleep most likely, and it is wishful thinking that you would go and eat something or drink any water, but please try one of the three things. It won’t kill you, I swear, and I should know - I’m a doctor.

- Henrik’

Jackie smiled at the sentiment, but crumpled up the paper and threw it at the wall. “He fucking took my suit? Does he not trust me at all?” He rolled his eyes. “Ok, to be fair you were literally about to do that exact thing, so he has a right to not trust me.” He sighed and flopped back onto the bed. He supposed he could try and fall asleep again, but he found it very unlikely. Eventually however, he fell back asleep for a couple hours. 

----------------------------------

He woke up again with light shining through the window, and checking his phone it was a reasonable hour to be awake. Jackie stood up and walked out of his room. He first saw Chase when he walked out, and impulsively said “Chase? Hey uh, can I talk to you about something?” Chase looked confused for a moment but nodded. 

“Do you want to go into one of our rooms or stay out here? I dunno how serious this talk is but based on your face it seems kinda serious…” 

Jackie nodded. “Can we go to your room?” 

“Sure.” They walked to Chase’s room, and when they got there, Chase closed the door and sat on the bed, patting the spot next to him for Jackie to sit down, which he did. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“How do you deal with your um… your…” Jackie bit his lip, not wanting to say the word. 

Chase raised an eyebrow, “my depression?” 

“Y-yeah…” 

Chase had a good idea to not ask why Jackie wanted to know this, but given his fidgety behavior and how he is way less confident than he usually is, he had a good idea of why he was asking. “I gotta say dude, it’s the one of the toughest battles I fight, the only worse thing being the battle against my addiction. But doc gave me some medicine to try and lessen it, and I like to journal my feelings. I know there’s a bunch of phone apps for it, I stick to traditional pen and paper. And it’s basically a diary, but don’t tell anyone I called it that, but I just write about the emotions I felt and if anything happened that could possibly be related to it. You wanna see it?” 

Jackie just shrugged. “I mean, if it’s too personal, I don’t wanna intrude on your super personal details or anything…” 

“Nah, I got nothin’ to hide really. Here, lemme get it.” He reached onto the table by his bed, pulling out a spiral notebook. He flipped to more recent pages and showed one to him. “See, I start by writing the date and any adjectives that come to mind that describe my mood. There’s some days where I have a lot of them and a lot are contradictory to each other, and there’s some days where I only have a couple. This one, oh yeah this is from when I got to see my kids!” He smiled fondly at the day, reading back over it. “Yeah, that carried me for most of the day I remember, that’s why it’s the only thing really in here for the day. Now, the next day was- yup that wasn’t a good day. Stacy called me just to yell at me for how I spoiled the kids,” he read it, sighing, “then ya know, called me a bad father and what not, usual Stacy shit, and I got so close to breaking my sobriety but… actually it was you that stopped me… not by doing anything about alcohol but you just said hi to me when I was on my way to try and find some and after that I… I couldn’t’ve done it so I pretended I just wanted a snack heh… memories huh,” he laughed weakly. 

“You asked how I deal? Well on the days when the meds aren’t enough I usually try my best, if I can, to talk to one of you guys. You all help to distract me from the shitty things that go through my mind. Because you know as well as I do that there’s always something going on in this house that even existing in the living room is enough to have a decent distraction for the most part. On the days though where I can’t even get out of bed… I still try and distract myself by doing random shit on my phone, sometimes I just try and vent out all my issues and thoughts by writing them down in my notes app because my phone is so much closer and easier to write on than an actual piece of paper. Plus I can also delete it when I’m done so all the negative thoughts can just disappear into the cloud. But there isn’t one set recipe for self care or anything like that. I know some people like to do relaxing shit like meditation or whatever but I just can’t do that, my mind needs to stay active or else I’ll get lost in my own thoughts. It took me a while to figure out what works, and hell I’m still figuring it out. There’s no rush though, and it’s okay if you can’t figure everything out right away.” Chase smiled and closed the notebook, placing it right back on the table. “Is there anything else you wanted to know?”

Jackie shook his head. “No, I think you covered it all. Thanks.”

“Any time. And if you ever want to talk about anything, I’ll gladly lend an ear. I know how hard it is to open up, but once you do it feels amazing. And if you don’t want to talk to any of us, when I went to therapy right after my attempt it really helped cuz I didn’t want to talk about any of that with you guys because I was just so embarrassed. I don’t think I’d be where I am today if Jack didn’t drag me to therapy.” 

Jackie hugged him, then left the room, heading back to his own. He would have something to eat later, he had some things to figure out about himself first.

[parachutingkitten]

Dancing Without You - Ch 5: With You

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Oh my gosh this chapter was so much work. It took way too long. Arguments and action and double the length of most of the stuff I write. Anyway, I think it turned out really well. And the beginning is just pure fluff which is always nice!

Happy Reading!

“It’s so quiet,” I whispered, soaking in the midnight air and the feeling of the grass against my back. “I wish it was like this more often.”

“Yeah, I wish we had three-day weekends every week,” Cole chuckled.

“That’s not what I meant,” I rolled my eyes. “It’s just nice with campus so empty. I swear, the stars seem so much prettier when it’s quiet.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “My mom and I used to go stargazing when I was little. She’d tell me all these stories about the constellations… I don’t really remember much of them, I just remember how happy it made me, you know?”

My head shifted in the grass as I picked at the blades at my fingertips. “I bet you could see a lot more stars outside of the city.”

“Tons of them,” I could hear the smile on his lips. “Kind of why we had to stop. Our neighborhood went through a huge boom. There’s a lot more light pollution now.”

“That sucks,” I sighed. “Everything kinda sucks now, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

I thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Everything just seemed so much easier when we were little. No grades or responsibilities or friend drama that blows up in your face.”

“Rough day?”

I sighed. “It’s just been one of those weeks. Everything’s fallen through or been delayed or ended up with me botching it. Turns out Selena just straight up hates me.”

“I thought you two were friends.”

“Me too,” I mumbled. “I shouldn’t be surprised though. It’s always been this way. Unfortunately, just because you’re friendly doesn’t mean you have friends.”

“Well, I’m still your friend.” He took my hand, both of us finally glancing over at each other.

“...Thanks.”

“Is there something else, or-”

“No,” I shook my head. “Look, none of this is really important, okay?”

“You sure it’s not?”

“I’m sure.”

He looked at me a moment, still deciding whether or not to believe me. “Well, regardless, I think I have something to make your week better.” He let go of my hand, sitting up and reaching for his backpack.

I rolled onto my side, watching him as he struggled for a moment with the zipper. “What are you-?”

“Just hold on a sec, I’m working on it.”

I sat up, running my fingers through my hair. “You need help?”

“I got it!” he smiled, the backpack opening. “I think it was caught on the plastic.”

From inside he pulled out a singularly wrapped pale pink rose, a small blue ribbon tied around the center. 

“What’s this?”

“Lia, will you go to the Winter Formal with me?” He presented the flower to me, a giddy smile crossing my lips as a flood of emotions trickled through me, one after another. “Cole!” I accepted the rose, chuckling a bit. “This isn’t fair. You know I have to say yes.”

“I mean, not necessarily,” he contended.

“It’s ten percent of our final grade!”

“Exactly! Theoretically you could ditch and still get an A!”

We both laughed, as I twirled the flower around in my fingertips.

“Even so, what was this for?”

“Well, we don’t have homecoming or prom or anything,” he explained. “So, I kind of thought we could… make a day of it, you know? Dress up all fancy and have a matching color scheme and all that. We could even do dinner if you wanted.”

“That would be so fun!” I almost jumped. “But I hate eating in formal wear. Maybe we could eat before we’re dressed?”

“And then what? Get ready together or…”

“Well, I don’t exactly have a girl group to get ready with anymore,” I shrugged. “Is that weird? Would that be weird?”

“No, I’m sure I’d be fun!” He assured me. “Anything with you usually is.”

“I like this two-person prom thing! It might end up better than the real thing.”

“Good thing about only having two people,” Cole leaned back. “Is that we already know who’s gonna be Prom King and Queen.”

I laughed. “What? We gonna have a vote too? I vote for you-”

“And I vote for you,” he nodded, stringing me in further.

“And then we get to make ourselves some stupid paper crowns to parade around in.”

“No, no. We’re the prom planning committee too!” He pressed. “We can get whatever kind of crowns we want! Plastic dollar store crowns, flower crowns, we could cut them out of the backs of cereal boxes. Hell, we could even spring for some decorative rhinestones if we want!”

“Hold on,” I stopped him, both of us laughing uncontrollably at this point. “If we are the planning committee, but we’re also the only ones voting in the election, does that mean that the election is rigged?” 

Cole playfully held out his arm. “Come my Queen! We shall rule over our corrupt empire with an iron fist!”

I took his hand, lifting my posture. “May our enemies be crushed betwixt our hands!”

Our laughter died out after a moment, my eyes turning again to the rose.

“Well, you never actually answered my question,” Cole lamented.

I lifted my eyes to his, the pure perfect bliss of the moment radiating throughout my bones as we sat, alone, under the stars, enveloped in a gentle breeze, a single rose in my hand, a glowing smile on both our lips.

“Yes, Cole. I would love to go to the Winter Formal with you.”

           ~*~*~*~

I trudged into the kitchen, my mind still hazy, the smell of bacon filling the air. “Good morning!” Jay’s voice surfaced from the stove. “Just making some breakfast.”

“Maybe don’t burn it,” Pixal suggested, turning his eyes to his pan.

“I’m sure they’re fine. I like them a little extra crispy anyway.” Jay removed the pan, turning off the heat, carefully sliding the contents onto a plate. Despite my personal feeling of utter fatigue and drowsiness, Jay seemed remarkably well rested- dressed and awake and seemingly more put together than usual. 

“What’s got you so chipper?” 

“I don’t know,” he mused, placing down his cookware. “I think I might have caught the positivity bug from Amelia.”

My eyes slid over to Pixal, in full gear, her demeanor much less bursting of sunshine but still annoyingly more composed than my own. “Any movement last night?” I asked.

“No sign that we’ve been detected from my patrol last night.” She shook her head.

“Well, at least that’s good.” I sat down at one of the bar stools, rubbing my eyes, still a bit distracted. “Is Amelia up yet?”

“I haven’t seen her since last night,” Pixal shrugged.

“What exactly happened?” Jay added. “I didn’t even see her leave.”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I couldn’t sleep, I was up all night thinking about it. I don’t know what I did or said or what ticked her off, but she’s pissed.”

“What were you even talking about?” Jay asked.

“It was just after she and Pix were dancing. I told her it was weird to see her dancing with someone else, and suddenly she got all sensitive about it.”

“You ever think she just… misses dancing with you?” Pixal offered. “What exactly was your relationship like when you left, anyway?”

“Lia and I were…” My lips froze in indecision for a moment. “Look, it was complicated. We were close. But I had a lot of personal stuff going on at the time, so I had to keep some distance and…” I sighed, their faces showing only suspicion. “I don’t really know what we were.”

“Sounds like a recipe for some passive aggressive frustration to me,” Jay concluded.

“She just gets this way sometimes,” I argued. “She’ll bottle things up and then get all fussy when you can’t read her mind about it. Even if it has nothing to do with you, even if you’re trying to make things better, she just shuts down. It would happen all the time back at Marty’s. She’d get a bad grade and have trouble with a new dance and then suddenly she’d just spiral and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s so frustrating!”

“Maybe you just weren’t communicating with her properly,” Jay offered. “I mean, you were kind of… emotionally occupied at the time.”

“I don’t know. I guess that’s possible,” I sighed. “I just hope that this time it’s something I can fix.” I held my head in my hands, staring ahead at the back wall, all the factors still very much spinning as I tried to fit everything together.

“Good morning Amelia,” Pixal broke my train of thought. “How did you sleep?”

Amelia looked very worn. She still wore her pajamas, her eyes tired, and her face missing her typical bright smile. Maybe Jay hadn’t caught the positivity bug from her as much as stolen it. 

“Fine,” she shrugged. She made her way to the fridge, pulling a protein shake out from the back, shaking it up. “What are your plans for today?”

“We didn’t exactly have any,” I told her.

Her eyes landed on me, staring for a moment. “Well, I have some stuff I need to get done, so...”

“Well, you should get it done,” I told her.

“Unless there’s anything you need me for-”

“Look, do you want to talk about it?” I stopped her, standing up.

“Cole,” Pixal cautioned me. “This is not the time to-”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to want to.” Lia put down her drink, leaning over the counter.

“What on earth gave you that impression?!”

“I kind of thought you might want to bring it up yourself, you know, as a half decent person, but you don’t seem to know what the problem is.”

“Yeah, I don’t! What did I do?!”

“You abandoned me Cole! You knew full well that you were my only friend at that school, and you left.”

“You know why I left! I didn’t really have any other options!”

“Woah! Okay,” Pixal cut in. “Let’s all calm down for a moment.”

“No, I get that.” Lia continued. “But that’s not the part you screwed up. You told me you were leaving the day of, with no notice, and left me crying on the studio floor!”

“That was-”

“Hold on guys. How about we just talk over some nice bacon and eggs?” Jay offered. “That sounds nice, right?”

“Thing is,” Amelia ignored him. “Even that would have been fine. But you didn’t write me, you didn’t call, you didn’t even try to make contact! You obviously have a way of locating me!”

“The only reason I could find you now is because of my responsibilities as a ninja!”

“Yeah, and for those years before you were one, I thought you were dead!” I could see tears beginning to poke into the corners of her eyes. “I had to find out from a news report in the middle of a city-wide crisis that you were still alive and had just been ignoring me! And hey, you know what? I could have just shrugged that off, you had moved on, you didn’t really care about me anymore, it happens. I get that. But then you show up at my doorstep after five years, acting all buddy-buddy like nothing happened! Like you didn’t see any problem in the fact that the reason you approached me in the first place is that no one would ever think to associate us! Doesn’t that seem just a little messed up to you?! That I’m such a cliff note in your life that you didn’t think to tell your friends about me until your life depended on it?”

“Hey, let’s not drag us into this-” Jay chuckled nervously.

“No, she has a point.” Pixal sighed, obviously a bit bitter herself at this point.

“Look, I get it okay,” I conceded. “I didn’t leave very gracefully, but it’s not like I didn’t care about you or-”

“No, Cole, you don’t care,” Amelia stopped me. “Not enough. No one who leaves so easily ever does. You didn’t care about what happened to me! You were only worried about yourself! Just like my brother!”

“Your brother?” Amelia didn’t have a brother. Amelia didn’t have any siblings. She was an only child. What was this about her brother?

“And I didn’t want much.” She brushed past it. “I just needed an apology. You didn’t think one of those would be in order? Just a ‘Hey, sorry for abandoning you the day before the partner test, that was kind of a dick move.’ or maybe a ‘Sorry for not talking to you for five years! You were probably pretty worried about me, huh?’ or maybe ‘Hey, Lia, sorry for kissing you right before I left forever! That probably left you with a boatload of mixed emotions for you to sort through!”

“You did what?!” Jay’s voice chimed from behind me.

“You ever stop to think that this stuff probably hurt me just as much as it hurt you?” I shot back. “Maybe I had a lot of really mixed emotions to begin with! Maybe saying goodbye was absolutely terrifying! Maybe it took every bit of will power I had to resist the urge to ask you to come with me when-”

“You wanted me to come with you?” Her tone had suddenly softened, her voice almost at a whisper. Her eyes had filled with a shocked sort of hope. I could feel my heart slow as she looked at me, this meaningless piece of history being some sort of final piece she had been looking for and finding it had caught her into this instantaneous daze. And as I looked at her, she caught me in it too- nothing else really seemed to matter at that point.

“Well, I… yeah.” I sighed, stumbling over my words as our eyes remained locked.

“Why didn’t you-”

“I couldn’t ask you to leave. You were so at home there. I didn’t want to pressure you to leave it behind.” My reasonings resurfaced to my mind in an instant. “Besides, asking would have just gotten my hopes up. You never would have come anyway-”

“Everyone stop for a minute,” Pixal interjected, moving between us.

“No, I’m not-!”

“Shush!” Pix held a finger up to me as she looked towards the front door. “Did anyone else hear that?”

We all stopped to listen. There were voices on the other side of the door. A lot of voices.

“You weren’t expecting anyone, were you?” Jay asked.

“Not today,” Amelia shook her head. 

Before any of us could respond, there was a loud crash. 

They were trying to break in. 

“Lia, get to your room, now!” I ordered her.

I could see the panic filling her eyes, still locked on the front door. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is why we came here in the first place. She wasn’t supposed to be mixed up in all this. But here she was. She nodded, running off, the banging at the door now a continuous pattern.

“Head’s up!” Pix tossed me a sword as one final hit broke the door down, nothing but familiar faces on the other side.

“Knock, knock!” Ultra Violet’s laughter filled the air as she moved forward. “Look at the little ninja, hiding like roaches in the cracks of Ninjago City!”

“Could you not have waited until after we had breakfast?” Jay complained, pulling out his nunchucks. “The eggs will be cold by the time we’re done with this!”

Ultra Violet just smirked, standing with her arms crossed, her army of men behind her, ready to unleash chaos.

“Find the green one.” 

As the floodgates opened, we all rushed forward, nothing but a clash of fists and metal proceeding.

“He’s not here!” Pixal warned her.

“You’ll forgive me for not believing you,” She chuckled in return, countering her attacks. “It’s a small enough apartment. I’m sure we’ll find everyone who is.”

“It’s just us! There’s no one else here!” I screamed out at her, blocking a swing from one of her goons. 

“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” There was a loud crash from behind me as Jay fell to the ground. I knocked my attacker down as I turned to see him just miss a knife to the shoulder. I rushed over, pining his attacker to the ground as he sat up. 

“You okay?”

“Tis but a scratch,” He smiled, standing up again, brushing off the new tear in his uniform. “But where’s Ultra?”

We both glanced around the room, now mostly under control, the mastermind now nowhere to be seen. It was only a second later before we got our answer. A sharp scream came from down the hall, all attention diverting in its direction as I began to panic. 

“Lia!”

My legs took me to her before I could begin to process it, but by the time I got there it was already too late. Ultra Violet stood over Lia’s body, cornered and shaking and covered in blood. 

“Now look what happens when we lie, huh?” her head turned to me, a sick smile gracing her face as I felt my blood begin to boil. “Oh, what to do, what to do?”

I lunged forward, nothing but pure rage moving me as my sword pinned her to the wall. “You start praying she’s okay, that’s what.”

“Pix, call an ambulance!” Jay’s voice came from the doorway

“You’re going to leave. Now,” I ordered her.

“Or what?”

I brought the blade closer to her neck, leaning in. “Or I kill you.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me, still proud of what she’d done. “Fall back! He’s not here!” She ordered. I could hear the proceeding shuffle in the next room. I dropped my sword, letting her go, my attention immediately turning back to Amelia. The gash ran down the side of her neck, and onto her shoulder, though at this point it was hard to tell.

The blood. 

There was so. Much. blood.

It pooled on the carpet and on her clothing, scattering her arms and hands as it continued to stream out. Her eyes were stuck on the doorway, her body paralyzed as she shivered, tears falling silently in an endless flow down her cheeks. 

I kneeled in front of her, quickly taking her hand, looking for her to respond. 

“It looks a lot worse than it is,” Jay concluded, covering the wound, and beginning to apply pressure. “But she’s losing a lot of blood, fast.”

My eyes stayed on hers, her hand now desperately clenching mine, struggling to get a grip from the blood covering them both. 

“It’ll be okay. We’re here. I’m with you.”

My words were shaky, my pulse still racing as I watched her, guilt flowing over me in waves; huge, violent waves threatening to drown me. I was almost certain I had stopped breathing all together. I could see her lips trembling as she tried to speak.

“It… It hurts.”

My head sunk as I brought her hand closer, the water finally leaving my eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry. 

I’m so sorry.”