Chosen
Much shorter than it has any right to be, given how long it's taken me to actually finish. Plot? Uh, no, not really. But anyhow...
She's been away. He's been unwell.
---
He looks at her like she’s the most welcome hallucination he’s ever had.
Kia closes the door slowly behind her as she takes in this chaos of a makeshift apothecary, the loungeroom in an utter state of disarray and her beloved not faring much better, red-nosed and unshaven and dressed in a black silken pyjama and robe ensemble which, while inarguably stylish, was very definitely not his usual late afternoon wear.
And not at all what she had been expecting to come home to.
A miscellany of potions and concoctions and gods-know-what-elses lie scattered across the coffee table. A teacup, mostly empty. Two tissue boxes, one apparently even emptier than the teacup. Some sort of book...no, manual. Looks instructional. A wilderness of failed curatives.
Oh my god.
She walks further into the room. The air smells of menthol and embers.
“Babe, what are… Are you… What have you even been doing h…?”
You absolute beautiful total disaster.
“Trying not to… hh-HH …let thi…this-damn-cold…” Cerberus turns from her as his sentence dissolves, the syllables collapsing against one another in a desperate rush to give way to greater need and deep breath of purpose, and he raises a finger in urgent, undeniable pause. "Huh-TSSCH-uu!" Hurriedly claiming a series of tissues in a brief, expectant hiatus, he surrenders completely and sneezes again. "Hh-AATSCHH-uu! *snff-FF!*" A quiet groan in the aftermath. He excuses himself, adds another tissue to the set, blows his nose and immolates the lot. "Pardon me." He sighs. "Trying not to let this godsdamned cold win,” he manages, with an accompanying sharp sniffle. Neither heavy congestion nor the way his voice cracks slightly lessens any of the seething distaste in his tone.
“Oh, honey.” Kia brushes some errant hair back from his face. :Bless you.: She touches a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re getting your ass kicked.”
She offers him a soft smile to hopefully lessen a little bit of truth's sting. "C'mon, shift over," she says gently as she joins her beloved on the couch, nestling up beside him, resolutely ignoring every caution he tries to give her advising against doing so. Notably half-hearted as those cautions are.
Because while it’s true that he very much doesn’t want her to catch this, he’s also well aware it’s more than likely already too late for such concerns. The entire house is probably some sort of incubation epicentre. And, sincerity of expressed warnings aside, the entire sorry vista surely constitutes warning enough. He's fairly certain he couldn't look more biohazardous if he tried.
Cerberus sighs again, sniffling again immediately afterwards, and gives his bonded a look of resignation.
Further elaboration hardly seems necessary.
But also he doesn’t press the issue because in truth the last thing he wants is to send her away. He’s not even sure he has the energy to insist on it, anyway; he’d be infuriated about this entire ridiculous circumstance if he wasn’t so damn exhausted. So, small obligatory protests done, with another damp sniffle Cerberus shifts some disarrayed blanketry out of the way and wraps an arm around Kia’s waist, drawing her close.
Her soft perfume of violet, strawberry and vanilla is lost on him anywhere outside of memory right now, but her presence is more than enough and he closes his eyes for a moment, just appreciating the simple fact of her being here beside him at last; he's missed her immensely, constantly.
“You know, you could’ve just asked me to come back, if you wanted me here,” Kia muses as she nestles further into his heat, adding, “It wouldn't have been a big deal,” without accusation. She leans her head against his shoulder and looks up at him with gentle azure gaze, her unspoken thoughts of I’d always choose you. How do you still not know that? readable despite her not voicing them.
And he does, of course, know that – in fact, it’s the very reason he wouldn’t ask. Cerberus sniffles thickly, wiping his nose. “Ah, love. I'd hardly ask you to put yourself anywhere near this—" He gestures around the room in a general presentation of contempt for the whole situation. "—vortex of infectious absurdity,” he concludes, thick congestion lacing his words. He clears his throat but it doesn’t make any notable impact against the wreckery his voice has become. "And it's about your... *SNFF!* ...your autodoby."
Kia peers at him. “My…what?”
“Your au…” Cerberus, all too aware that several critical consonants are unequivocally not working for him, rolls his eyes at himself. Honestly. Taking another fresh succession of tissues from a very rapidly depleting supply, he blows his nose forcefully but completely ineffectively.
He excuses himself once more and tries again; it goes equally badly.
Kia, baffled, raises her hands in a friendly but very clear nope sorry babe no idea expression, accompanied by a gentle little laugh that she just can’t help.
A long-suffering and immensely frustrated look comes her way, followed by a resigned, defeated sigh as her beloved entirely gives up. “Free will.”
For a moment, this makes even less sense to Kia. “Why would…” she begins, but cuts herself off in triumphant realisation. “Oh, autonomy!” She laughs. "Oh, sweetheart."
“That’s what I s… hh-hh! I...” And even this is hijacked, and the Demon king capitulates entirely, doubling over desperate into crooked elbow, “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!”
He takes some moments of bleary recovery, Kia's heartrate spiking alongside the :Gods, forgive me: Cerberus Mindsends her.
"Oh, bless you, babe." Kia doesn't try to fight the thrill that flashes through her and she wraps herself around her bonded to kiss him again; a kiss deeper, more needful, than is probably wise. But wisdom isn't what she's craving right now.
“You know what? You’re going to stop talking and let me make my own choices.” She brushes a stray lock of hair from his eyes, touches the softest of lingering kisses to his forehead and meets his gaze. :Talking really isn't working out for you anyway.: "And besides—"
Another kiss, deeper again, and she presses her arousal against his, salacious, wanton.
:—you know we both want the same thing.:
---
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Modern Reincarnation AU Part 4 ✨️
Part 3
"John?"
Bucky storms past Jack into the townhouse. It's rude, but he'll apologize later. He doesn't know why he came here instead of his apartment. Old habits dying a hard drawn out death, maybe? He hadn't been thinking clearly. Hadn't been thinking at all really until he found himself waved through by his father's security detail.
"Oh, is that John?" He hears his father call out, dress shoes clicking against hardwood as he walks closer, but Bucky stomps up the stairs towards his room before he sees the man. His breaths come out in rushes as tears keep burning his eyes.
Shit, he thought he'd gotten those under control on the train.
Slamming his door, he slides down until he rests against the floor. He tosses his bag to the side wincing at the sound it makes. Hopefully his laptop survives. At some point he does actually have to do the work he went to the library to finish.
The library.
Buck and Curt.
They wouldn't, Bucky tells himself. They wouldn't. Curt was one of his best friends, and Buck loved him. They...
Fuck they were roommates! Why the hell were they talking about that shit in public? In the place Bucky considered his? Why even pretend? Why drag Bucky into this? Why?!
Bucky buries his face into his hands. His chest hitches as he tries not to sob. He doesn't want his father or Jack to worry about him. He doesn't want to talk this through.
He wants...
He wants Buck. He wants the other to pull him into his arms. To kiss him again as if today had never happened. There was something else about being with Buck, something he'd never felt with anyone else be they friend or lover. He made Bucky feel safe and wanted. Wanted not because of his family and connections but because he was himself.
Buck would know how to make him feel better.
He laughs quietly through his tears. Distantly, he can hear Jack briefing his father downstairs, the words faint but he hears his name and tears used together. His laughter is more sob than anything else. Of course, the one good thing he'd found would end up belonging to someone else. Story of his life.
✨️
There's too much work to do. At least that's the excuse Bucky gave himself for not confronting Buck and Curt immediately. There wasn't time for a confrontation and subsequent blowup of his life.
At least that's the lie he tells himself.
Bucky chews on the straw of his iced coffee as he skims yet another chapter. There's a pumpkin muffin in front of him that he swore would be his reward for getting through this fourty page reading. Midterms have come and gone, but Bucky still has deadlines to meet and research to complete. He can't sit in his room forever, as much as his father and Jack would sometimes prefer that. Better protection from whatever sent Bucky crying to his room as his father would argue. Better protection for his father's political career Jack would quip.
Speaking of protection, Bucky glanced to the side of the cafe towards his security detail. At least these guys attempted to blend in. His father must have briefed them on his track record with previous details. Bucky smirked around his straw. They'd be easy to lose come rush hour. A bit of fun even.
Bucky turned back to his reading, squinting down at the words.
"American airmen during World War II had a dismal life expectancy. It was not a matter of if an airman was going to be shot down but when. Once downed, airmen faced an uncertain 'reception committee,' as Second Lieutenant Kenneth C. Reimer noted in a drawing he made as a POW in Stalag Luft I in Barth, Germany... 'for every [ground combat] soldier killed in action, three or four others would be wounded; air combat was completely the opposite. For every man wounded, three were killed.'"
"Bucky?" A hand settles on his shoulder jolting him out of his reading.
Bucky kept his shoulders loose as he turns around. Buck stares down at him, a bright smile on his face that Bucky can't help but match despite his grief. It wasn't even something he could control. Buck smiled at him, so he smiled back. Bucky felt pitiful.
Buck's sky blue eyes are clear and happy as they dart across Bucky's face. There's no sign that he realizes Bucky overheard him yesterday.
Bucky lifts a hand to calm his detail, all alert now after Buck's friendly greeting. He sees the nearest agent settle back into their chair but knows none of them are relaxed. He darts a look up at Buck, peering at the other through his glasses to see if he'd noticed the disturbance.
Buck's gaze, as it always does, doesn't leave Bucky's face. Even when he rounds the table to sit down, his eyes are pinned on Bucky and nothing else.
"Sorry I couldn't meet up yesterday," Buck dumps his bag onto the chair next to him. Bucky's smile twitches. Buck sits down across from him. His legs tangle with Buck's own under the table, Buck's foot gently bumping his ankle.
"It's fine," Bucky chomps down on his straw. "How was your advisor meeting anyway?"
"It was good," Buck smiles at him, not even a hint of guilt on his face. "Real good."
Buck had told Bucky he was called to fill in a shift yesterday and that was why he supposedly hadn't been able to meet up. A lie Buck hadn't even bothered to remember. His advisor meetings were also always in the morning on Thursdays. Today was Tuesday.
Buck was still lying to him, and he wasn't even guilty about it.
✨️
"I went by your place yesterday. You weren't home." Buck swings their clasped hands through the air.
"Hmm?" Bucky glanced away from the traffic around them. His detail were staying a conspicuous ten feet back, but they were annoyingly keen when Buck offered to walk him back to his apartment.
Bucky would lose them another day.
Buck laughed, deep and airy. Bucky struggled not to lose himself in it. That was what made this so hard. Bucky still loved Buck, and Buck still acted like Bucky was his whole world and then some.
"Oh," Bucky finally processed what Buck had said. "No, I went to my dad's for the night."
"Really?" Buck squeezes his hand. Bucky hates how much comfort Buck's touch gives him.
Does Curt receive the same...? No Bucky doesn't let himself finish the thought.
"How was it?" Concern bleeds into Buck's voice. Bucky hates how genuine it sounds. He's starting to use that word more than any other. The longer he looks at Buck, the more he has to hate to save his heart.
"Fine," Bucky shrugged stepping further away as they came to a stoplight. "The usual."
"The Bucky I know wouldn't give such a short answer," Buck stepped closer eating up the space Bucky had put between them. "Not unless something happened yesterday. Come on, you okay?"
Bucky felt the words bubbling up his throat.
I saw you. I saw him. Why are you here staring at me like I'm the most important thing in the world when you have him? Why are you doing this to me? I love you. I love you so much it feels like my soul hurts. I hate you.
"Spent most of the night avoiding his staffers." Bucky lied. "Barely saw him, Jack either, yet he still asked me to move home at breakfast."
Buck nods, accepting his lies. Was that what they were now? Not a relationship, simply a lie? Bucky wasn't sure anymore. His heart thumped against his rib cage, anger and love in every other beat, but he wasn't sure which would win.
Buck had become his whole world in such a short amount of time. He thought the feeling was mutual, but yesterday showed just how stupid Bucky really was.
"How about this," Buck nudged his hip. "Why don't I stay over tonight? We'll binge a few movies, order something, and have night in. Then,"
Buck paused with a stupid grin that, despite himself, Bucky still found charming. Fuck, he was truly pathetic for this.
"I'll sweep you off your feet and take you to bed. How does that sound?"
"Won't Curt be expecting you?" The question pops out of him without meaning to. Gale furrows his brow, confusion growing in his eyes.
"Curt won't miss me tonight."
Sure, he won't, Bucky thinks bitterly.
✨️
"John," Jack's voice was a surprise. Especially considering it was his father's number calling him.
"You've gotten much better at your Jack impression," Bucky answers just to be annoying. "Does he know you impersonate him on official numbers?"
"You're not as funny as you believe."
"Ooh, you even have his disapproving tone down. I feel like he's in the room with us!" Bucky laughs. He peers around the corner. Buck's still where he left him, buried in his phone texting someone.
Bucky doesn't let himself think about who that person is.
"Your father wants to invite you to a dinner tomorrow. You can even bring that boy that walked you home. The one that hasn't left." Pages flip in the background as Jack talks. Probably governmental reports his father was supposed to read.
"You know you're not his chief of staff anymore?" Bucky leaned his hip against the counter. "You don't have to read reports or wrangle his kid to government dinners to help his image as a family man. You're his husband now, you're the family."
"You're my kid too by that logic, so wrangling you gets to stay on my resume." Bucky snorts out a laugh. "Besides, it's not a state dinner or anything. He just wants to see you."
Guilt gnaws at his heart. Buck pokes his head into the kitchen, phone no longer holding all of his attention.
"Fine," Bucky groans. "But if he brings up the apartment again, I'm walking out with my food on my plate even if it's the good plates."
"See you tomorrow at 7 then. Bring your boy." Jack hangs up without a goodbye.
✨️
It'll be me, and it'll be you, Buck.
Don't count on it.
Bucky jerks awake. His dream flashes through his head too fast for him to remember anything. Scenes superimpose over each other, words jumble together. At least this one wasn't a nightmare. Those always left him shakey and off balance all day.
His dreams have always been vivid, ever since he was a kid. The child psychologists he'd gone to had said it was normal and simply a sign of a well developed imagination.
Bucky runs a hand through his hair groaning when he glances towards his bedside clock. It's nearly an hour until he has to get up, but he knows that he won't be getting back to sleep before then.
Buck lays curled up next to him on the bed. Bucky reaches out to brush a hand through the other's hair. Buck twitches leaning into the feeling for half a second but doesn't stir beyond that.
Bucky sighs. Extricating himself from Buck's long limbs takes time. Somehow in the night, Buck had nearly fused them together as if even asleep the man refused to let him go. Arms layered over arms. Legs tangled together. It's an excellent distraction from his dreams but not from the problems of the waking world. If only he could forget those once he woke up like he did his dreams.
It's only when he's pouring water for his coffee that he realizes he recognizes the voice from his dream. A first for him.
It'd been Buck's.
✨️
(Not a confrontation I know, but it builds my AU lol)
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Finished the 6.55 MSQ so here's my (very positive) thoughts:
Love love LOVE Wuk Lamat she's so fun and her dynamic with Erenville is hilarious. Very excited to see more of her in Dawntrail.
Krile is already getting some nice scenes and I'm very happy she's finally gonna get the spotlight in dt. My girls been side-lined for 4 expacs it's about damn time she gets to shine.
The inventor of Pictomancy is literally Relm. Like they name drop her. Obv not the same Relm as in VI but still! Relm is real! And she was an Archon! tbh them naming an important character related to this type of magic after her isn't surprising- I just expected it to be something in the job quests rather than the MSQ.
Zero made super-spicy dishes popular in Thavnair lol. Wuk Lamat trying to toughen it out was hilarious. God I love her.
Wuk Lamat & Erenville being childhood friends was not something I expected! Very fun.
The catboy from the dawntrail promotional artwork is probably Wuk Lamat's brother, Koana(Was that his name? tbh I forgot. But she has a Miqo brother that's what's important). He looks smart, and it's possible he's gonna be another candidate claiming for the throne.
Based on the artwork, I had figured our main group was gonna be WoL, Krile, Thancred and Urianger, as they are the only Scions featured, but based on the quest it'll probably be Wol, Krile, Alphinaud and Alisaie. G'raha is allegedly staying behind, but since he's shown in Tural in the trailer I think he'll find an excuse to come along anyway lol.
Thancred and Urianger are going to be competing against us, which will be interesting. I think it'll be fun to see some of the Scions take on a more rival-y role, if only for a bit. It looks like they were petitioned by someone else participating in the Rite of Succession, so maybe they're working for Miqo boy? They're on his side of the artwork after all 🤔
(Also I think the writers know how popular those two have gotten together lol they're like making it a point to have them with each other at all times)
Estinien is going to Tural just for the hell of it which I think is hilariously in character. Literally going there at the same time as us purely by coincidence. He really can't escape us can he.
Y'shtola is neither seen nor heard of which tbh I think is fair given how much screentime and focus she got during the whole Zero arc. I do wonder why she's going to Tural tho, she's in the trailer too so I'm certain she will be there.
(Also, since G'raha, Estinien and Y'shtola aren't aligned with any particular side as of now, I think they'll be a neutral third party in the Succession rivalries going on. That, or they'll end up siding with the 3rd sibling that isn't the Obvious Villain (based on Wuk Lamat and Erenville's accounts) somehow. Will be fun to see in any case.)
The little memory dialogue from Emet was nice :) just a reminder of the adventures yet to be had. Also he's finally in the unending codex which I think is nice (ngl I kinda forgot about the codex until he got added to it)
ALSO I almost forgot to include it BUT we have a nice heart-to-heart scene with G'raha alone on a bridge and if the writers weren't COWARDS (and/or worried about romance ambiguity, at least for those relating to the WoL) he could've proposed to us then and there. You know he wants you. Do not hold him back writers let him do what he wants. (I'd have said yes ofc)
Backpack :)
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