#cause I read a lot of his books as a kid so I thought it’d fit. still dunno if I’m gonna go through with making that minecraft blog but

[noemilivv]

After Reading the Proposal and Wedding One shot I think it's called?

Can I please request the same characters(Adam, Lucifer and Vox) react to there kid having there Powers and how GN Reader and Them deal with it in an everyday bases

oh my god my brain has so many ideas i’m doing this right the freak now

also i’m so sorry this isn’t necessarily gn!reader becuz this does talk about pregnancy 😭

Warnings: AFAB!reader, pregnancy talk, ooc Adam?(?), swear words, potential S1 spoilers, Vox being a bit of a shitty dad

Adam, Lucifer, Vox w/ kids who have their powers (+ extra)

Adam

You and Adam probably wait awhile after your wedding until having kids, he wants to have his party lifestyle a little longer, and cmon, who can blame him?

At first he isn’t so sure, I mean, a small ball of flesh that just cries wasn’t the most entertaining thing to him… But he’ll do it for you

But the moment you tell him your pregnant, something in him clicks.

He’s very invested in the kids before their even born, he’s reading all those cheesy and old baby books constantly, cause honestly, he’s not as prepared as he’d thought he’d be

Simply because I see Adam as both a boy dad and a girl dad let’s say you two have twins 😛

He’s a good dad not gonna lie, but let’s be real, he tried to make at least one of his kids say “feces” as their first word… yeah, you weren’t too happy. 😀

Growing up, he definitely spoiled his girl and roughhoused with his boy, maybe a bit too much…

He was definitely a baseball or softball dad

Considering Adam’s foul language, they definitely grew up at swearing at a young age, but it stayed in the house dw

As the kids grew into their early teens they discovered their shared their dads powers — and bitch was through the roof about it

Adam started training them on how to use their powers to their liking, but also taught them the safety of them. He was actually a pretty good teacher ngl.

Lucifer

Obviously, from his past marriage with Lilith, he already had his first kid, so he was ready — he was just waiting for you to be as well

So when you were, he was stoked !

He was very aware and attentive during your pregnancy, trying to not make the same mistakes he did the first time around

He’s also very understanding about mood swings and he WILL go out in the middle of the night to get you cravings, he doesn’t have to, but he will

But when you both bring another daughter Morningstar into the world, Charlie is thrilled to have a younger sister!

She definitely babysits a lot, and the child definitely spends a lot of time in the hotel

Luci dedicates certain times of the day when he can not and will not have meetings or projects to be working on so he can dedicate time to both of his daughters.

He loves asking your daughter how her day was, and how schools going, but he also asks how her friends are to stress that grades aren’t the only thing that matter

As your daughter grows, she starts to develop Lucifer’s powers, only a small fraction — considering how powerful he is, but he’s stoked that not one, but now both of his daughters have his powers!

He’s been through training them before with Charlie, so he’s pretty skilled on how to do it now, but he tends to stress to your daughter the usage of the powers and the rights and wrongs are far more important than the strength you have

Vox

Vox was in no rush to have kids due to the current workload for VoxTech, but if you wanted them, all you had to do was ask

Vox, like Adam, couldn’t really wrap his head (or screen ig??) around the concept of a child until they were in his arms.

Vox wasn’t really sure how to handle a newborn, older kids were different, but this..? Maybe this wasn’t right for him…

It broke his heart every time he heard his son sob as a new born, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure what to do.

It’d be late at night and Vox would get out of your shared bed to go make sure the baby would stop crying before you’d wake.

He’d try everything, singing, rocking, bottle, changing the diaper, toys, everything. And it wouldn’t stop.

It’s not until you stir in your sleep and hear everything, you go to your son’s crib and simply hold him and he stops crying immediately, you set your son down and go back to sleep. Vox is literally amazed.

As your son ages into the ages of 6 and up is when it starts to get easier for Vox, by the time Vox can even slightly have a conversation with the kid it gets easier, the communication is a lot more clear

He doesn’t have a lot of time to play with his son due to VoxTech, so usually Vox will keep his son in his lap as he works in his office, he’ll even ask his son business questions! Even when he only gets gibberish back, he’ll take it. Hey, don’t judge him, client feedback is important.

As his son ages into his teen years, Vox starts turning a bit strict, he needs his son to be the coolest fucking kid in school, so Velvette tailors him a shit ton of clothes and Vox makes sure his son always has the newest gadget. Vox also is strict about keeping grades up, he wouldn’t ever take anything away for a bad grade, but your son may get a bit of lecture..

All of this is building up to something though, Vox really wants your son to take over VoxTech in his adult years, so he wants to make sure his son is prepared and experienced in the new world he’d enter, if he doesn’t want, Vox gets it, he may be a bit pushy though, but Vox has been in that place so he won’t push too hard.

At around the age of 15, your son developed Vox’s hypnosis powers.

Vox teaches your son how to use this to his advantage, like for example, VoxTech, but he also stressed there’s a time and place, and to not use it on someone you truly care about. Strategy is everything.

Is Vox the perfect parent? No. But no one is. But he genuinely has so much love for his son, and tbh he wants more kids…

[siriusly-parker]

—random lightning era headcanons, hp.

ʚ author’s note: these are MY personal headcanons. you don’t have to like them, but maybe you will. also- i KNOW mattheo and enzo are not even canon and that theo is hardly even mentioned but i thought it’d be cute to add them. mainly theo cause i love fanon theo (sometimes). ꜝꜞ

ron is super mega tall, taller than the twins. maybe even taller than bill.

harry is of average height but looks like a short king besides ron.

theo is basically a grumpy old man in the body of a teenage heartthrob.

blaise is just a sweetheart. fr the bestest friend.

draco can’t read in between the lines. he’s book smart but when it comes to people and social interactions he can be pretty stupid. you can’t just give him a hint, he won’t get it.

hermione actually really liked krum.

harry actually attended theo’s mother’s funeral. (they were on somewhat friendly terms after having to team up for an assignment.)

ginny likes girls. dean likes seamus. both knew.

draco, mattheo and enzo (along with crab and goyle) are more of the bullies of the group.

angelina and george are part of a tutoring program and tutor younger students. though he’s really good in potions, george only does it to spend time with her.

ron secretly tries to read muggle books to impress hermione.

mattheo is just plain rude with anger issues. he pretty much hates everyone.

theo is just more of an introvert so he doesn’t really feel the need to talk to everyone, let alone bully them.

blaise is not very smart but he really tries his best and studies a lot. he also reminds (or forces) the others to study as well.

in her firsts years at hogwarts, pansy was mostly a bitch and a bully (to impress malfoy), but blaise became a good influence and she learned to mind her own business a bit more.

ron had ALWAYS had a crush on hermione. he just didn’t want to.

neville had a secret girlfriend around year 3-4 and they’d always meet in the herbology greenhouse.

oliver suffers from insomnia which sometimes leads to him being rude during morning practices and even having anger outbursts towards his last hogwarts years.

fred is really really good with kids while george just doesn’t really know what to do with them.

cedric has dyslexia and really finds it difficult and discouraging to read and study. cho and harry are one of the few who know and help him with homework.

luna randomly takes walks in the forbidden forest. she finds it peaceful.

mattheo is naturally really smart. he never studies and always gets good grades. he’s kind of a dick about it.

seamus has ADHD and had a mild ODD as a child

cho is extremely interested in politics and even founded a secret debate club at hogwarts.

dean is the only one who knows about seamus’ breakdowns and the only one who truly knows how to help him.

angelina is really popular. there is nothing to hate about her. she is beautiful and kind and especially good at quidditch.

krum was really bummed out to leave hogwarts. he was actually liking it there. mainly the people. mainly hermione. just hermione tbh.

spending summer ‘94 with hermione was ginny’s gay awakening confirmation.

▾

꩜ i siriusly love you <3

꩜ hp tags: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @marvelismylifffe @hi-there-x @koreandrama-crazyyyy @df841 @hanniejji @streetghostfighter07 @agustdpeach @littlebrownngirl @emcchi @siriuslysirius1107 @wwhitewwolff @underthelee @florenceivy @guidetothesuperlame @littlebirdgot @koreandrama-crazyyyy @rororo06 plz tell me if you’d like to be added or removed!! you can ask for a specific fandom or character or my whole blog <333

[divine-valley]

Safe at Last

The person whose name is written in this note shall die.

Fox reads the sentence a few times over. When he encountered the note it had landed on his head while on patrol. Someone must have thrown it out a window instead of disposing it properly. He had intended on dumping it in the closet garbage bin when the cover had caught his attention.

Death Note.

Written in a strange script, it wasn’t a novel just a simple blank notebook. It’d be a waste to dispose of something he could use so he retuned to base where he could inspect it further. That was when he found the rules written on the front page.

This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

Oh how thoughtful to think of those who share a name. He can’t help but roll his eyes and continue to read.

If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

That fast huh? Quick and efficient.

Was this a joke of some kind? A prank some kids made and were caught with?

If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

Fox shook his head and reached for a pen and closed his eyes.

The Chancellor’s warm smiling face fills his head. His voice calling out to him. It makes him sick.

Sheev Palpatine

If anyone’s name belonged in a book of death it would be his. Leaning back he watched the digital clock in the far corner of his office. The second go by and then a minute.

Nothing.

Well, he wasn’t sure what he expected. Tossing the pen aside he grabbed the book to put it away when his comm started to go off. He isn’t able to get a word in when Thire’s voice breaks the silence.

“Fox, the chancellor’s just collapsed in his office.“

___

The Chancellor is dead.

Heart attack. Thats the report that comes back. No foul play is suspected. He was an older man after all, he worked so very hard. Never a moment’s rest, those are the words whispered.

No poison nor drug is found in his system. Just an elderly man who passed from a heart attack.

The people weep, Coruscant enters a period of mourning and the guard is now busy preparing security for the funeral.

Fox is unable to focus on anything. He is locked in his office with the note in his hands simply staring down at it.

He killed him.

He killed the chancellor.

Him with just the stroke of his pen he ended that monster’s miserable life.

Or was it coincidence?

Could it be the old bastard’s heart had actually given out? But the timing it was too perfect.

Should…should he try again? Another name?

___

“Did you hear?”

“Yes, how awful…”

“Apparently he just slipped and fell…”

“In his shower of all places!”

Senator Gorling’s tragic and accidental death. A simple slip in the shower, life is so fragile and delicate.

What a shame.

Senator Halor Gorling dies getting out of the shower. He slips on the wet floor and snaps his neck in the process.

Exactly as written.

Fox is thankful for his helmet to hide the grin on his face a sick kind of smile that would have anyone question his sanity.

Senator Gorling have sent good honest men to their deaths for nothing. For a vendetta against clones. For a clone daring to fall in love with his precious natborn daughter.

An eye for an eye as they say.

He doesn’t say much. Doesn’t contribute to the gossip among his own ranks. It’s such a small death as compared to the chancellor’s.

It was all he needed to truly confirm that the Death Note worked. That in his hands is an untraceable weapon of Mass Destruction. Something no man should possess yet here it was in his hands.

His capable hands…

With this…he could protect the Guard and not just them but all clones.

He can keep them all safe at last.

___

Been watching a lot of Death Note again so of course I wondered...what would happen if Fox had stumbled across it himself?

[your-unfriendlyghost]

9, 13, and 20

9. What’s the favourite scene/moment from the book?

  Probably the part in the morning after Pony gets home from Windrixville, where the gang’s just relaxing and horsing around- it lends some much-needed lightness to a pretty heavy book. That or the train-hopping, although that one’s mostly because I’ve always wanted to ride on a freight train, ala “On the Road”. There’s one by my house and lemme just say it’s been tempting me pretty much my whole life. I guess I also like the drive in, when Two-Bit talks to Cherry and Marcia- it was just just fun to read, I like Two-Bit.

  I think the Johnny/Dally death scenes were obviously some of the most well-written and impactful, but I can’t outright say they’re my favorites because the whole time they were happening I wanted them to not be happening. Loved them though from a technical standpoint. You see so much of the characters and who they are- ugh it’s so well done.

13. Who do you think is the most well-written character?

  Maybe Ponyboy or Dally? Idk Ponyboy just feels very genuine, which I guess makes sense since Hinton says he’s probably the character who’s most like her. And then with Dally- I mean it’d be easy to soften his edges in hopes of writing someone more likeable, but she chose not to and I think that’s a huge part of why his character is so meaningful. I really like Pony’s line about how Dally’s “Too real” and how that scares him.

But really I do think all of the characters are solidly written- especially Randy who I think is kinda underrated? I mean I don’t think about him often, but I love the scene where he calls Pony “Grease” and then is like “Wait, I mean kid.” I do wish we got more Cherry- she was well-written too, but we see so little of her…

  Idk, I think they’re all well-written. Even characters without much to them on a surface level feel like real people, and it makes the world feel so lived-in and real. Like my boy Steve- there’s not a ton outright said about him, but he still feels like a real person with real depth. And don’t even get me started on the Shepards- the little details really flesh them out, even with hardly any screen time.

20. Which character do you relate to most?

  Steve or Soda I think. 

  Steve because even though we don’t canonically get much of him, we do get a few things, like how he’s cocky and observant and competitive and has a rocky relationship with his dad lol. And then in the movie he does a lotta stuff I’ve done and even looks kinda like me- kinda short, gap-toothed, dark haired, scowls a lot. I’ve currently got a pretty nasty bruise on my knee from front-flipping off a couch, and another one on my arm from rough-housing with a buddy. And irl I know I often come off as bad-tempered the way he does, although I don’t really mean to. This one’s more fanon than canon, but we’ve even both got Napoleon complexes lol- I mean the fact that I like him so much is absolutely just projecting, I’ll admit that, but idk I like him and think he’s pretty relatable. I get the whole “fighting ‘cause you’re angry” thing, as well as the beefing with fourteen year olds thing-which I’m kinda ashamed of- but I swear to god fourteen year olds know how to push my buttons in ways no one else does. (well. Except for…everyone. I guess. I just have a lot of specific experiences with smartass fourteen year olds that I’m still mad about to this day.)

(5’6 isn’t that short Malcom, shut the hell up. You’re just freakishly tall for a freshman.)

  Admittedly I didn’t think much about Steve until I took @boysborntodie’s “Which greaser are you” quiz and got him, which I was initially irritated at because I thought he wasn’t much of a character…but then the description in the results was so on the money that I got a little unsettled lol. Point is, Steve’s probably my “official most relatable character”.

  And then with Soda, I’ve got a similar experience of being good-looking but not feeling very secure in my brains…which is conceited to say I know, but enough people talk about my looks that I’m aware of the fact that it’s just objectively true that folks like my face. Unfortunately it means I kinda rely too much on it, and often end up worrying that there isn’t much more to me then that. Like I’ve had multiple girls who’ve dated me because I’m good-looking but then don’t really like who I am, you know? It gets to me sometimes. Not often, but sometimes. I could see myself ending up in a relationship with someone like Sandy, although unlike Soda I don’t think I’d still wanna marry her afterwards- I love Soda, but I can’t say I relate to that part so much. (‘Course this is all hypothetical, so really who knows what I’d do?) And I’ve definitely got a worse temper than Soda does, I admire his lack of one honestly lol 

  I do feel like I ought to relate more to Darry, to be honest though. I mean, I’m the oldest son with two younger siblings, and a decent amount of responsibility- but I just don’t relate to him much. But then again, I’m in vastly different circumstances- Me and my sister are more like Soda and Ponyboy than Darry and Soda. Mostly because we both get to be kids still. 

Anyhow, thanks for asking! I know I’ve written a lot- I just have a lotta thoughts and like to hear my own voice I guess lol. And lemme know what thoughts y’all have about these questions, I’d love to hear it!!

[normalsnails]

Oooh Third High Rise World 👀👀 What is the big tower this time? We've got a railgun, we've got a space elevator.. *rubs hands evilly* I want to know everything >:D

Also I'm curious about your OCs! Are they participants, candidates, angels? *^*

Hii!! Thanks for asking :33 apologies that this took long I’ve been running errands!

So first, its a broadcasting tower! Its function is what it sounds like haha, it relies on a phone (and the ability, just like the railgun) for it to broadcast you the God’s code in a video form, kinda like a tv channel, which is why there are no tvs in that world! It’s a God mechanism similar to the og one, created by the creator of all of the realms to make a god out of people who were just like the “perfect” candidates, such as : Kuon, Juo, Aikawa (some may be family, but I’ll get into that later). So basically people who were closest to God / had great potential of becoming God!

The creator selected the people who were just like / related to the “perfect candidates” and threw in an extra 100+ (a lot, i know) people to give the people chances, give them opponents ect.

Now!! My ocs which i love aaaa my little babies have time to shineee

So first, Hidehisa Suzuki!!

•as you might have gathered, she’s Juo’s younger sister, shes the most similar to Juo in the sense of bloodlust (kinda), same principles (bad guys always win). So basically a lot of his qualities, not because it’s natural and in their genetics, its that Juo was a TERRIBLE influence on her growing up, aswell as their parents ect. So shes very dragged-up.

•Giving her a masculine name was intentional! Her parents probably thought it’d be “quirky” to give their kids such awful names.

•She isn’t a bully in the way her brother is, shes more of a “mean to everyone” type. Always gets into fights, causes trouble, makes fun of everyone sorta thing. She doesn’t have targets like Juo did.

•She wears her hair in all different hairstyles, one day its low pigtails, another its down, a braid ect.

•she has white eyes like her bro but they’re not as sharp as his, they’re quite big and round. (Still soulless-looking) and her hair is the same black with a hint of purple.

•she is currently a participant, but she’s probs gonna find a mouthless mask sometime soon (She probably will break it though, shes mentally weaker than Juo)

•she’s 15!

Thats about it on her!!

“I just wanna feel alive” so her. Thats just her.

Myra Aikawa!

•she isnt Mamoru’s daughter, she’s his niece! Shes similar to him on how she has a particular worldview (not an extreme darwinist like Mamoru, but similar), very collected, very strategic, polite, ambitious ect.

•when i wrote my Mamoru hcs ages ago, i mentioned he had a stepbrother, thats his stepbrother’s daughter!

• She wasnt influenced into thinking this way, she kind of just came to a sort of “the weak die, the strong live. Thats just natural selection.” Conclusion (shes very scholarly, reads alot of philosophy books)

•Student council president, takes her role far too seriously.

•Quite snobby and pretentious but doesnt realise, her father married a successful businesswoman who is the main breadwinner of the house.

•She is now a god candidate after randomly coming across a mouthless mask (we can all tell what her goals are now, yikessss)

•Her god candidate powers include :

Self strengthening ability (isnt that great)

Consciousness interference (can go into an awake person’s brain, it has drawbacks though as it exhausts her)

Ability to control Angels (only 1 currently!!)

•She is half Thai half Japanese (Thai on her mother’s side), she speaks both languages!

•she has light blonde hair (it almost looks white) and light brown eyes!

•she wears a half up half down ponytail with a black bow!

•she’s 16!

And last, Takeshi Akesofu

•He is the only one that isnt related to the “perfect candidates” legally or genetically, he is instead like Kuon in other ways. He is the son of a CEO (of a rival company to Shinzaki’s) and a retired actress, but he is not the heir to the company like kuon, instead his elder brother is the heir. He was raised to be superior to others, to carry himself properly because of the prestige of his family. He’s different to Kuon, but theres a reason they’re somewhat related (They may or may not be in a forced marriage / engagement, but thats just a rumour thats been circling around the internet (on earth in their universe))

•He pretends that he’s all serious and proper to please his family but in private he’s rude and informal. He often brags about what he gets from his parents to his (equally rich) friends. Just your classic spoiled rich kid but hides it.

•wears sunglasses almost all the time, says it makes him look hot but he just looks tacky.

•has quite a sheltered life because of the fame, but not as sheltered as kuon’s. For example, he can go out but only if he has bodyguards / people with him.

•is a God candidate! Same as Myra he came across one by accident. His abilities include :

Ability to control Angels (3 Angels at the moment)

Ability to observe an Angel’s strength

Self-transferring (undiscovered by him but it turns out to be weak and will make him confused and dizzy)

•he has dark brown hair and dark green eyes!

•very present on social media, has millions of followers. (Which boosts his already high ego)

•he’s 18!

Thats it for my ocs!! If you wanna know more about them or a character in specific then just tell me :>

And if the third high rise world was ever in written form (unlikely, too many wip fics and exams XP) they would be the protagonists! (Meaning it would be from one of their perspectives every chapter)

The third high rise world starts mid-arrive, and it’s still going on post arrive and isn’t gonna end because Yuri & co simply don’t know about its existence! Neither does the supervisor. They will find out eventually because Yuri is literally 100% God 100% human and i can ramble on and on about the 4 omnis ect.

There are titles which none of them have acheived, such as :

Seraph. (An angel (not in a TS sense) that is the closest being to God, yet not having the power of god.)

Idol. (Just as it sounds, basically having high numbers of followers, being worshipped basically by humans)

More to be added as i think about them and look at meanings ect! Most of these are religious terms because thats a heavy theme in TS and TSA!

Instead of lightning and cloud, they have light! So basically light radiates from them as lightning would in og TS!

So thats basically all for now, as this post is getting WAYY too long, but if you wanna know more then just send me an ask!! :3

[nuagedemots]

A goddamn superhero - a Spidey!Steve Steddie fanfic (part 2)

Part 1 It was quite surprising Robin loved working as a librarian so much. She was always so loud and energetic, with a lot of hand waving and name calling, always dramatic and ready to jump into action : at least, that was what people thought about her. His friends knew better. Yes, Robin was active and spirited, but a lot of the time, that was because of all the pent up energy caused by anxiety, and all these movements and high-pitched conversation were actually exhausting for her. She needed time to rest, and this job was perfect for that - and she loved books so that was a nice bonus. 

Steve wasn’t as enthusiastic as his best friend. If she wasn’t there to talk to him and read to him when there wasn’t anyone in the library, he would literally be bored to death. The only thing he really liked about this job was when a classroom of children came to read books and he could see sparkles in the eyes of kids when they discovered fantastic stories about pirates or dinosaurs or knights, but these moments were occasionals, and most of the time, he was just looking at the clock, waiting for his shift to be over. 

Today was not an exception. 

It’d been two hours since no one had come into the library. Robin was sitting on the wheeled chair of the desk, which was right across the front door so she could spot any readers who came in, while Steve’s head was resting on her lap. She was playing with his hair while he red out loud the beginning of Lord of the Flies, the book in his hands threatening to fall because of his absurd posture. This day seemed like he lasted forever, and whilst he was narrating the adventures of Ralph and Piggy on this damn island, he couldn’t stop thinking about the moment he’ll step out of this place to put on his Spider-man mask again. Suddenly, Robin tapped three times on his forehead, their signal meaning someone came into the library. He lifted himself up, standing as straight as he could to pretend for a second he was a professional and perfect librarian, his best friend doing the same on her side. 

The second he recognized the face of the person stepping forward, he smiled. What was Eddie Munson doing here ? 

- Hey you two, greeted the tattooed man. You seem… really busy.

- Yeah, as you can see, the place is packed with readers. I think we’re overwhelmed, responded Robin, snarky but happy to see their metalhead friend. They were hanging out quite a lot, since he moved in the same city as them six months ago, but it was always a pleasure to joke around with him, especially since his presence was unexpected. 

- I hope you’ll find time in your busy schedule to squeeze me in… I’m looking for a book.

- Usually, that’s what a library is for, dude. Steve stood up to help him find what he was looking for. What kind of book ? 

- A self-defense book, a manual that teaches about how to defend yourself, something like that. 

Steve froze. What happened last night came into his mind : his Spider-sense had seen the way Eddie’s fingers grasped his keys from far away, how his eyes fogged when he realized he was in danger, how he talked swiftly when Spider-Man came to his rescue. He must have been so scared. 

- What ? Why do you need something like that ? asked Robin, still sitting down on her chair. 

- Hmm, no reason in particular. Was thinking about taking lessons or something, but I wanted to check it out first. Can be useful, y’know ?

Lies, of course. Eddie knew that, Steve knew that, but Eddie didn’t know Steve knew, and that was the problem. The librarian couldn’t say anything without raising doubts about his secret identity - couldn’t comfort his friend about what happened to him and telling him that he was certain Spider-Man would never let him get hurt on his watch.

- Yeah, I think we have something like that in the sports section. In B12, Stevie, can you show him ?

Steve nodded quite seriously, his mind troubled, and Robin raised a questioning eyebrow in return, that the ex-jock pretended he didn’t see. Eddie followed him to the section the brunette mentioned, and began to help the metalhead find the book he was looking for. After five minutes of research, stuck between the narrow bookshelves and the wooden walls, the librarian couldn’t help but splurt out a few words out of concern. 

- Are you sure you’re okay ? Self-defense, I mean… You can talk to me if you need… 

He hated lying to Eddie, but he didn’t want to burden him with his secret, and potentially put him in danger if Spider-Man’s enemies wanted to come after him. 

- I know, I know, Eddie responded with a fake smile on his face. Don’t worry about dear old me. I’m fine. Ah, found it !

The metalhead brandished an old book with a faded green cover where a white man with a kimono and a mustache was putting down a black man with a golden chain and a gun (racism much ?). He began to flip the first pages, and let out a light chuckle when he saw the outdated illustrations. 

- I don’t know if it’s really gonna help you, Robin said behind them. She had rejoined with the boys, probably out of boredom. Maybe Steve could give you pointers ? I mean, boxing is not exactly self defense but… 

Steve froze. He told Robin he was taking boxing lessons to explain why he came back to their flat with big bruises and cuts all over his body - he knew she was getting suspicious, since he couldn’t afford boxing gloves, let alone a annual boxing membership, but of course, she couldn’t imagine Steve being Spider-Man, so it was the only explanation to his injuries. 

- You box, Harrington ? You’re full of surprises, said Eddie. It would be very nice of you, but I don’t want to bo… 

- I’ll do it. Steve surprised himself. It was dangerous for him to show the tattoo apprentice his superhero strength, but he also desperately wanted to help him. Come over on friday, it’s my day off. Wear athletic clothes, not black jeans.  Part 3 here

[puppyeared]

My guys

[sepublic]

Edge of the World

            WHAT WHAT WHAT

         King is a Baby Titan??!?! Confirmed??!!? Since Season 1A I’ve speculated about a connection, King as THE Titan or its child… We were right! It wasn’t for anything!

         Oh my god… All those people we saw, they’re just regular witches! Dressed like that which they plan to kill… DRESSED AS TITAN BABIES TO LURE THEM IN! And DAMN what kind of monsters are, or WERE these clans, to have KILLED actual Titans?! And why does our Titan look so humanoid, are they just deformed? Does it have to do with having magic, are they the only one without magic?

         Likewise, we see that the Titan Trappers are witches, the ‘human’ variety… So I guess witches (human) precede our Titan in terms of evolution??? So where did they come from, did Titans actually EAT things? Or did the Collector, or ‘Grand Huntsman’, if he goes by different titles… Does he hunt and kill and ‘collect’ creatures just for fun??? And he’s tricked people, time and time again, into hunting and killing Titans for his own amusement, or for power??!

         Bill said that if King was sacrificed, it’d release the Collector… So he’s probably in the in-between realm, since Bill ALSO had a disk like Belos! But how… Did the last Titan do this to him? Is he trapped IN the Titan and these disks are just conduits for his powers? Did demons evolve from Titans, and witches are their own ancestral lineage? What happened to the other lands, or were they there?

         Bill was reading a book by Flora (whose surname spelling has apparently been corrected), is he fact-checking? Did the Collector abandon the Titan-Trappers because he thought them useless? Bill says he’s OLDER than Belos’ reign, how old??? Can the Collector bestow immortality, is the Collector using Belos to free him? Does Belos know? Does he care; If the Collector wants to kill everything, then it’s possible they legit have a mutual alliance!

         Did the Collector give magic to the BI Titan and that’s why it had it, if it was the only one? And why it looks more humanoid, does the magic of bile sacs cause demons to change into this more humanoid look? And King…

         KING MY BABEY! That dream was so funny but also so painful… He just wanted to have a family, he KNOWS Luz is leaving and he can’t do anything to stop her, which is some nice continuity on his arc from Really Small Problems; So all he can do is prepare for when she leaves! I love how the show gives credit to his actual emotions, King is more than just the funny animal sidekick and more than just the plot device, his feelings and who he is as a person MATTERS first and foremost!

         And Eda… GOD, Eda seemed so weirdly calm and straightforward when Luz told her, and I can see why! She was trying so HARD to keep herself together for these kids, and I adore how she acknowledges that they’re KIDS and shouldn’t have to handle this stuff! That’s wrong! And how Lilith comforts her, finally, Lilith comforting Eda as an older sister she can count on, after so LONG…!

         I’m surprised King wasn’t mad at Hooty, but maybe he didn’t realize just HOW long ago this letter was; Like he thought it was something Hooty just ate this morning or something. Plus with all of what we have… Oof. It’s a lot to balance. The Collector’s rhyme was also different in Luz’s memory… But YEAH, I love how Luz quickly puts it together that the Collector is the Grand Huntsman! After being duped by Philip/Belos, she’s already gotten more wary and showing a closer eye and awareness to this! And also damn… A lot of past characters really did mess around with a baby Titan and didn’t even know it, huh??? That’s so funny.

         Oh… OH GOD, KING MUST REALIZE OUR TITAN IS HIS DAD. But what about the one who killed the BI Titan? Was he manipulated by the Collector, only to reveal the truth? It’s mentioned only the power of a Titan can hatch the egg, and we see moonlight and I guess some form of glyphs involved… So all Titans have magic? Did the Titan Trapper (the one who killed our Titan) have a conscience? Is he like Wittebro? A parallel yet foil to Belos, as someone who was duped by the Collector, but realized it was wrong? Or mostly Wittebro… Yeah.

         GOD that reveal that they weren’t actually the same species but just wearing disguises. That’s so creepy and uncanny. I kinda love it but WOW… And Salty! SALTY MY BELOVED! He returns as I hoped and as a pal to Luz and King (and Hooty), even making them breakfast! I love him, Dana said she was so stoked to meet Steve Blum when casting Salty, I can see her bias for him now! Did they tell Salty? Also, like the acknowledgement of how he no longer works for Hunter… Esp since Hunter’s been fired. I’m surprised Luz didn’t mention him, but I can chalk that up to the show having to wrap things up ASAP, Labyrinth Runners might discuss this though.

         Kikimora seems in charge now…. AND GOD WE WERE RIGHT; Belos knows that Luz did the time loop now. He no longer has to let her live for that; HE CAN KILL HER. And Lilith too…! THAT CLIFFHANGER AUGH, what a callback to Agony of a Witch! But now Lily is defending… Will she learn Raven mode to fight back? Will our sisters be kidnapped… Hooty isn’t THERE yet! And the Titan Trapper who killed the BI Titan, he has magic like Jean-Luc… So did he also learn from the Collector, as Philip did?

         What happened to him? Why didn’t he tell anyone? Did he die before he could? Jean-Luc took care of King, maybe it was just to keep him alive to sacrifice for the Collector… ALSO DAMN COLLECTOR, it seems like you didn’t tell Belos about your previous allies! If you did, he’d have probably identified King and released you ASAP… So is he planning to revive OUR Titan, just so he can kill it as a sacrifice for the Collector?! Damn… getting FMA parallels again, with the Collector going from place to place, tricking nations into repeating the same folly and ritual, for power!

         We know the Titan Trappers have access to the isles, do they just not know Belos works for their Grand Huntsman? Did the Collector not bother to tell them, ‘bored’ of them like discarded toys who have served their purpose? Did they recognize Belos’ claims of speaking for the Titan as false? Since Bill has one of Flora’s books and Tarak even has a Penstagram account… I guess it was a good thing Hooty ate the letter; Otherwise Luz wouldn’t have made that connection to the Collector! WHEW!

         There’s just so much lore… So much to wrap up. We now know that all the Titans have been hunted down, save one last one… God what does this mean for King??? Is he gonna outlive EVERYONE??? Oh god… No… Like how he said he KNOWS they’re gonna leave him, so all he can do is prepare! Maybe he can have a proper speaker for himself in Luz but… OH GAWD NO!!! You… You can’t DO this to me Dana! You can’t! YOU CAN’T!

         Oh fuck… And since they know; What if there’s conflict?!? What if the rebels (Raine, Darius, Eberwolf) ponder using King??! I don’t think Raine would but then again, if push comes to shove… Because if Belos is going to kill everyone to revive a Titan and use it as a sacrifice; Wouldn’t sacrificing King save so many more lives? And preserve the isles? The Collector is freed either way, but offering King to the Collector, to convince him to forsake Belos’ plan… It could save most of everyone!

         Oh man. If there would’ve been an arc of the Bad Girl Coven clashing with Raine’s group over what to do with King… Let him be used to take the burden of everyone else’s death and play it safe; Or believe they can stop Belos AND keep King alive! Oh god oh man… Oh TITAN! And in two episodes, King faces the implications of being a Titan…

         (Damn Belos you really had all you needed to free the Collector in YBOS. Or did he know, and that’s why he let King go; Because with King, his plan that involves killing all witches is redundant? And the Collector will be pissed when he finds out Belos kept him from that???)

        And now the EC is cracking down on everyone… Including Hexside. But we still got Steve… Or will Steve be in O Titan, where are Thou, since he’s at the knee? And King is going to the knee to speak with the Titan, and Steve allies with and helps him? NICE! King as the true speaker for the Titan…!

[jeanslove]

▻ pairing: bully!jean kirstein x fem!reader

▻ word count: 3k

▻ warnings: dc smut (17+) — dubcon, semi public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, degradation (name-calling), biting, choking

▻ synopsis: assigned to tutor the man who had tormenting you over the course of the year, you never expected to find yourself fucking him in the back of the library.

▻ a/n: this is for @ackerfairy’s my big bully collab, happy 700 bb!!

Why?

That was the question you kept asking yourself.

Why did he hate you so much? What have you ever done to make Jean Kirstein hate you so much?

God, if you remembered correctly, he used to be so kind. The boy who would offer to carry your bag for you after a long day, who was a shoulder to cry on when you were stressed.

But things have changed a lot over the last year.

Rather than being the shoulder you could cry on, he was the reason you were crying.

“Just tell Mr. Smith you can’t do it,” Ymir told you with a roll of her eyes. “No, tell him you straight up refuse to do it. Let Kirstein fail, who cares.”

“Ymir!” Your eyes widened slightly, looking up from your lunch to glance at the girl. “I can’t just let him fail, I-”

Historia, who had been on her phone the entire conversation, finally spoke. “Ymir’s right, Y/N. He’s put you through hell this year, maybe if he was less focused on tormenting you, he would’ve passed all on his own.”

Ymir nodded her head. “It’s karma.”

Maybe Historia and Ymir had a point.

Whatever was going on with Jean had started off with minor inconveniences, things you could easily brush off. Like when he would bump into you to make you drop your books and lunch or spreading small rumours about you -- sure, you didn’t know it definitely him calling you all sorts of names behind your back, but who else would?

But it got worse; starting with his attempt to place blame on you for when some of the kids in your class had gotten the answers to an exam and cheated, were you not able to prove you weren’t involved you could’ve failed — or worse, been suspended.

It stopped for a while after that, and then he was speaking behind your back again. You were used to it by now.

Shaking your head, you looked back toward your friends. “Letting him fail says a lot more about me than it does him,” you pointed out. “It’s just a few sessions, as soon as they’re done we’ll do our exams and graduate and I’ll never see him again.”

The two sitting across from you shared a look before Ymir spoke up. “Fine, but if he does something to you, you better come tell us.”

“Or Reiner. He’s always been looking for an excuse to impress you.” Historia’s words caused your face to heat up as you quickly looked away. “Beating up your bully would definitely do that.”

The next day, much to your chagrin, had approached quickly.

Though you could be home right now, wrapped up in a warm blanket and watching a new episode of your favourite show, you were instead sitting in the school library.

The school library that just so happened to have a messed up heating system despite it being the middle of winter. It’d be a little more bearable if you were by yourself or with your friends, or anyone who wasn’t Jean, really.

Staring at his laptop from where you sat beside him, you read over the question and let out a sigh. “You’re worse at this than I thought,” you muttered under your breath, ignoring the glare he sent your way.

Jean’s eyes widened slightly as you leaned past him to type something. Though thanks to your position, his attention was on everything but your explanation of the work. His eyes were instead drawn to your cleavage as your shirt dipped just enough for him to see the red fabric of your bra peeking out.

By the time you had finished your explanation, you realised he was just sitting there sketching in his notebook. In the silence, you found yourself staring at him. Since the last time you had sat this close to him, he had grown his hair out, and even suited the stubble he had refused to shave.

“Hey, did you get any of that?” You raised a brow, hoping he wasn’t listening. If he was actually paying attention, he probably would’ve noticed how you were staring at him too and that wouldn’t be a good thing...

Rolling his eyes, Jean looked up from his book, his eyes narrowed at you. “It’s like you never shut up, holy shit.”

You’d been dealing with comments like that from him ever since you got to this stupid library, and it was getting to be too much. Maybe you should’ve listened to Historia and Ymir, maybe you should’ve told Mr. Smith you couldn’t do this, maybe-

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name forced you to look up from your clenched fists in your lap, and the sight of Reiner and Porco standing at the edge of your table was enough to relax you even slightly.

“I thought you went home already,” Reiner spoke, barely even acknowledging Jean’s existence aside from the quick glance he gave the boy when he first arrived.

“Huh? Oh, well, I would’ve but Mr. Smith asked me to tutor some students,” you replied, turning in your seat to face the two completely, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Why are you both still here, though? I thought you didn’t have practise today.”

Judging from the jerseys they were wearing, it wasn’t hard to tell they were on their way to practise. Especially since you knew the soccer team often cut through the library to get to the field on the other side.

“Coach called us in.” Porco sat down on one of the seats across from you and Jean, almost like he wasn’t interrupting. Not like you cared though, five more minutes alone with Jean would have you screaming. “We have time for you though, sweetheart.”

“Y/N, you should come watch us practise,” Reiner suggested, grinning happily down at you.

Back in the warmer months, you’d always go to their practises. Whether it was to actually watch them play or to chat with Historia and the cheer squad in the bleachers. But it was winter now, and sitting outside in the cold didn’t seem that appealing, even if it was the perfect chance to escape this study session from hell.

Besides, even if Jean was rude to you all the time, you would feel bad ditching him.

“I-”

“Can’t you see we’re busy here?” Crossing his arms across his chest, Jean glared at the two boys.

Porco’s eyes flickered from Jean back to you, a silent question in his hazel eyes.

You didn’t want to go watch them practise, sure, but you also didn’t want Jean speaking for you. Especially in such a rude way to people who have only ever been kind to you.

“I actually have to finish up here, can I come watch tomorrow?” You asked the two.

With a sigh, Reiner nodded, motioning for Porco to stand up and leave you to get back to studying. “See ya later, Y/N.”

Waving them goodbye, you waited till they were gone before you turned back to Jean, who was staring back at you with some sort of frustration in his gaze. “What the hell was that about?” You hissed quietly.

“What? It’s not like you wanted to go anyways.” Jean shrugged. “It was obvious.”

“That doesn’t matter!” You pointed out. “They were only being nice and you-”

“Nice?” Jean scoffed, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. “Fucking hell, you’re ever dumber than I thought.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon, I doubt they actually like you,” he pointed out like it was obvious. “They’re probably just using you as a quick fuck.”

Your shoulders stiffened and you resorted to staring at the table in front of you, even as his golden hazel eyes bore into you. “What, you really thought they liked you? Seriously? They weren’t even trying to hide the way they were undressing you with their eyes.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, not even sparing him a second look as you stood up and began to walk away from the table, mumbling something about finding the book he needed for the rest of the assignment.

His words hurt more than anything he’s ever said before. Maybe because deep down, you knew he was right. Reiner didn’t *like* you, and you were fine with that before. Why did that only hurt now that someone had pointed it out?

Now that Jean had pointed it out… God, did he stop being your friend for the same reason? Because he only thought of you as a quick fuck and you never noticed?

Hearing footsteps turning the corner into the empty aisle you had chosen to hide in, you quickly wiped your tears away, turning to face the person.

“Jean?” Your teary eyes widened when you realised who it was. “What the fuck? Why can’t you just leave me alone for once?!”

Jean stared at you in silence, almost as though he was surprised by your words. And then a smirk began to tug at his lips, the same smirk that had you wanting to punch his stupid, handsome, no! Just his stupid face, there was nothing handsome about it!

He was practically telling you that you were only good for a quick fuck in the eyes of men, you shouldn’t be thinking about how well the mullet he had grown out seemed to frame his face or how it wouldn’t be the worst thing to feel the stubble on his chin rub against your inner thighs… No!

“So you can speak up for yourself, huh?” He chucked, leaning against the shelves behind him. “You know, I was starting to think you actually got off on being made fun of.”

Whether it was the words falling from his lips with a teasing tone you often found attractive in other men, or the way his shirt seemed to be hugging all the right places and showing off his muscles, you weren’t sure but you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing your thighs together.

Hoping he couldn’t see the way your hands were shaking at your sides, you quickly crossed your arms and looked away, refusing to meet his gaze even as he moved closer with a deep laugh.

“Do I make you nervous, huh?” His hand came up to your chin, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. “What’s going on right now in that stupid little head of yours?”

Again you could feel your face burning as you realised just how close he had gotten, practically pushing your body back against the shelves behind you. “I… I hate you.”

“You hate me, huh?” He repeated, that stupid smirk of his returning as he stared down at you. “You know what I think? I think if you really hated me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have come here dressed like a stupid whore.”

Your eyes widened in surprise as he pushed you back against the shelves, the hand on your chin falling to your hip to keep you still. “If you really hated me, you’d be pushing me away,” he continued, his free hand lifting the front of your skirt up just enough so he could run two fingers over your panties. “But you're soaked.”

Unable to stop yourself, you whimpered as his fingers rubbed against your clothed cunt a little harder. Your hand quickly shot up to cover your mouth, not wanting anyone to catch you like this in a library of all places.

“That’s what I fucking thought.” He got on his knees in front of you, keeping eye contact with you as he pulled your panties down your legs. “Such a whore you can’t even stop yourself from moaning in public, wanna be caught that badly, huh? Want everyone to see you get fucked by me?”

“Please…”

“How badly do you want it?” His teeth dug into your inner thigh, before his tongue ran over the bite to soothe it. “Tell me what you want. Beg for it.”

You tore your gaze away from him, unable to keep eye contact with the man between your legs any longer as he rested one of your legs over his shoulder, leaving you utterly exposed and vulnerable.

You should feel ashamed, you knew that.

You were standing here, panties down and legs spread for the man who had been tormenting you all year.

You should feel ashamed, but all you could feel was butterflies in your core and an emptiness in your pussy that begged to be filled by anything from him and him alone.

“Want… Want you to fuck me,” you whispered, leaning your head back on the self behind you. “Please, Jean- Use me, use-”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he leaned in, mouth enveloping your cunt as he sucks and licks at your entrance.

“Je- Jean!” You whimpered, your legs shaking as he dragged his tongue all the way back to your clit, sucking on it as he hummed.

One of his hands gripped your hip tightly, forcing you to grind down against his tongue as you threw your head back.

“Oh god, m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum!”

He quickly pulled off with a pop, staring up at you with a smirk as you cried out and looked down at him. “You look so fucking pathetic,” he laughed, golden lust-filled eyes flickering back down to your pussy as he used two fingers to spread you open for him.

“Filthy fuckin’ whore,” he cursed, his thumb swiping over your clit once before your hips bucked towards his hand. “Clenchin’ around nothing… You want my dick that bad, huh?”

“Yes! Please, Please!” You cried out. “Make me cum, Jean!”

“Shut up.” He ordered, moving back to his feet. “Now turn around.”

With your back to him, you couldn’t see a thing he was doing, only able to hear the zipper of his pants. And after a quick minute, he was pressed up against you again, his cock sliding along your folds.

He felt big — too big. So big, you weren’t sure he would even fit. Though before you could voice your concern, the hand on your hip moved up, wrapping tightly around your throat as he leaned in.

“You’re going to keep quiet and be a good little cumdump for me, right, sweetheart?” He whispered, teasing your clit with the tip of his cock. “Gonna let me use this sweet little pussy of yours where anyone can see us?”

“Yes!” You gasped out as he began to thrust his cock inside your hole, not slowing down for even a moment to let you adjust.

One of your hands shot up to hold onto the shelf, trying to steady your shaky legs while tears ran down your cheeks.

“Aw, look at you.” Jean feigned pity, the hand on your throat moving to grip your chin, forcing your head to the side to meet his gaze. “Crying over my cock like the fucking slut you are.”

“Be- be gentle,” you sniffled, though your words only caused Jean to scoff as he bucked his hips, thrusting inside deeper and harder than before, covering your mouth to muffle the moan you let out.

“Gentle? I thought you wanted me to use you.” He grunted, pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts with his free hand.

You were lucky no one came to this section of the library, otherwise they’d easily hear your muffled moans and cries, and the sound of skin slapping against skin as Jean used your body like his own personal fleshlight.

Were you not overwhelmed by the feeling of him pounding into you, too occupied memorising the way his huge cock felt, maybe you’d be more ashamed of yourself for actually liking it.

For actually liking the utterly humiliating words falling from his lips with every thrust.

“Maybe we should give Reiner a call.” His words were only met with babbles from you as he left you too fucked out to properly respond. “Have him listen to what a whore you are. Or better yet, bring him down here, let him watch me turn you into my cockslut.”

Jean gasped as your walls fluttered, tightening around his cock. “You like that, huh? You like being watched?” He asked with a breathy laugh. “You’re so fucking pathetic.”

Feeling you cream around his cock, grinding back against him as you sobbed his name into his hand. He wanted to cum so bad, to finally make you shut your mouth for once as he left you here with his cum dripping from your pathetic little cunt.

“You gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy?” He hummed, one of his hands rubbing at your clit, causing you to clench around him again. “Make it mine?

“N- No!” You gasped, tears from falling from your eyes as he continued his brutal pace, not sparing your overstimulated cunt any pity. “It’s… it’s wrong! Fuck-”

It was wrong. But what was even worse, was that deep down, you wanted it. Badly.

“Jean, Jean-” Your moans were cut off as his hand covered your mouth yet again, a low growl emitting from his throat.

“Shut up. You’re going to take my cum like the filthy fuckin’ whore you are, got it?”

With an almost silent grunt, Jean’s teeth dig into the exposed skin of your shoulder to shush himself. The bite so harsh you force yourself to choke back a gasp of pain — and pleasure, as you feel him fill you up, painting your walls white.

Though his thrusts slow down generously, he doesn’t stop completely, fucking you through the overstimulation as you whine into the palm of his hand.

Finally he slides out, instantly removing his hands from you as though it burned to touch.

Your own hands gripped the shelves in front of you tightly, your eyes still shut as you tried to gain your breath, your legs threatening to give out beneath you.

And then the realisation hit you as his release began to drip down your sore thighs. He came inside.

Your eyes shoot open and you glance toward Jean as he casually walks toward the front of the aisle. He stared back at you with a smirk on his face, holding up your panties with one of his fingers before shoving them into his pocket as he disappeared from your line of vision.

Why? You found yourself asking a new question. Why did you let yourself fuck Jean Kirstein?

▻ MASTERLIST

▻ TAG LIST: @ackerfairy @monirei @fairyhotline @cordeliawhohung @espritmuse

[janetbrown711]

“Why are you so nice to me” wakko or yakko max

To Wakko's delight, his brother kept good on his promise. Weeks passed and his brother devoted several days to restoring their bond just as it once was (the other days Yakko spent with Dot or with the both of them).

Heck, Wakko was so secure in his brother not abandoning him when Yakko asked if he could start up writing to Max again (at a much slower pace than before, he promised), Wakko said yes (barely) without hesitation. He knew that Max made him happy... and that he kinda owed it to Yakko to let him hang out with him again, as their little "not exactly falling out" was his fault (to him, anyway).

Everything was starting to seem... good- perfect, even.

However, Dot's birthday was rapidly approaching and Yakko was starting to get ideas.

"You know what we should do?" He said, lounging on the couch in the sunroom. "We should throw a ball for your birthday, Dot."

Dot perked up from her book. "What? Why? We never held balls for our birthdays before."

Yakko rolled his eyes. "That's because Grandma ruins everything. In this book I'm reading it says it was tradition for the royal family to hold big celebrations on their birthdays. I think it'd be fun- plus a great opportunity for you two to start making some friends."

Oh.

This again.

Wakko tried to laugh it off. "You'd have to get mum and dad to agree, and they've been pretty busy with the flooding in the west."

"Bah, that's mostly dealt with at this point. I'm sure they could use the break too," Yakko countered.

"B-but mom's coronation wasn't even that long ago," Wakko argued.

"It was over three months ago," Dot rolled her eyes. "I think a party would be fun," she looked to Yakko.

"Didn't you have fun at mom's coronation?" Yakko asked his middle sibling.

"Well I- I suppose I did..." Wakko thought back to the massive chalk drawing he had covered the floor with. It was pretty fun, and it made a lot of people happy.

"See? I'm sure a party in Dot's honor would be fun all the same- plus, making friends is great, I'm sure you'll love it," Yakko said with a reassuring smile on his face, though Wakko still wasn't quite convinced. However, he could see how much both of his siblings wanted this (even though the idea was only seconds old) and who was he to say no?

"Alright, I guess we can do that," He said, which made Dot clap in excitement as she began to detail everything she'd want for a party in her honor.

Wakko had a feeling this was going to be interesting.

.o0o.

As expected, their parents were ecstatic at the idea, and they spared no expense in attempts to create what they believed a much-needed celebration for the people of Warnerstock and their allies.

And to say it truly was Dot's creative vision would not be false. There were a lot of pinks- a lot, a lot of pinks. Though mostly tasteful, if you saw it it was hard to look away from.

But still, Wakko was happy for her, she was having the time of her life planning it all out with their dad, who was equally happy to spoil his little girl.

However, he knew deep down that despite what Yakko had sworn, her party was probably going to be very different from the coronation. He hoped it would be fun, but the more he watched decorations being put into place and talks about the guests and feasts the more he was beginning to worry.

He didn't say anything though, as the rest of his family seemed far too happy for him to want to bother them with his plight. They deserved this break, he was probably just being dramatic anyways. He'd be fine- and maybe make a friend just like Yakko said he would.

Wakko did his best to remain optimistic, despite the knots forming deep within.

It wasn't too long before the grand day arrived. Wakko had thought they had pulled out all the stops just for decorating but the day itself was insane too. Dot was showered in presents and even was taken out to town with William to go shopping for anything her heart desired, meanwhile Yakko, Wakko, and Lena stayed behind and supervised the final touches on the decorations.

Okay- really only Lena supervised, but Yakko and Wakko were technically there too. They didn't stay with her long, as she gave them a list of things to check up on so she could talk to some people which they were fine with.

Together, the brothers walked through the massive dining hall, checking curtains, flowers, vases, tapestries, etc. to make sure they were in the exact right places (not that the list really said where they were supposed to be) and checked them all off.

"So... are you looking forward to tonight?" Yakko asked, checking off 'left-most curtains'.

"Oh- uh- Yeah! I am... are you?" Wakko quickly said.

"Oh yeah, totally, it'll be great to see Max. It's been a while... you're still cool with that, right?" Yakko glanced down at him before checking another thing off.

Wakko nodded. "I won't try to prank or drive him away this time, I swear."

Yakko snorted. "I know you know better, I'm just asking if you're okay with me hanging out with him for tonight instead of you."

"Yeah, I am. You did say I should make friends after all," Wakko said, fiddling with gloves. Yakko looked away from the checklist and gave his little brother a side hug.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" Yakko asked.

"Yeah, yeah," It was Wakko's turn to laugh.

"I'm serious-" Yakko let go and punched Wakko's arm lightly. "You're doing great. You should be proud of yourself too, you've come a long way."

Wakko smiled a little. "Maybe."

Yakko chuckled. "Well, it looks like we're just about done with this list. Wanna go turn it in to mom and go get changed into uncomfortable suits and greet guests for hours on end, or do you wanna just double and triple check the list until the last second?"

"Definitely check the list," Wakko laughed too.

And so the brothers did, until Lena caught wind of their shenanigans and forced them to start getting ready for the party (though they did cut a lot of time so technically they still regarded it as a win). At least those outfits weren't the worst they've ever worn (they were pretty confident nothing would ever top how itchy and miserable their funeral outfits were). Still, standing around and greeting people was a dreadfully boring job, not to mention awkward until their father and Dot eventually came to join them and actually do their job properly.

They knew their mom was busy, but leaving the two of them in charge was a little questionable.

Plus, after all that interaction, Wakko was starting to feel weird. Tired, but also not-? It was complicated. All he knew was that he wanted to be alone and maybe pace for a while, that'd be nice.

However, the party was to start in not too long, so he really didn't have time for that. He followed Yakko around for a while to the main party room where the people they had greeted before were all chatting amongst themselves. It wasn't too loud yet, but Wakko's tail twitched nervously as he weaved between people and conversations.

He hadn't been this nervous at the coronation- Wakko really wished he could figure out why he was feeling this way. Alas, he was unable.

He did feel a little better as Yakko and he found a spot of their own to chill in for a while, away from all the people.

"A lot of people came to this shindig, huh?" Yakko joked, "though probably no more than those who attended mom's coronation."

"Yeah..." Wakko said, trying to compare them mentally.

"More kids though, which is really good for you and Dot to make friends," Yakko said.

"Yep, yep," Wakko feigned enthusiasm.

"Are you okay..?" Yakko asked, causing Wakko to straighten out his act instantly and nod.

"Of course," he said. Yakko frowned.

"You don't have to lie you know," He remarked. Wakko bit his lip.

"M'just a little tired," he shrugged, figuring it was close enough to the truth.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Yakko asked worriedly.

Wakko nodded again. "I'll be fine, I'm probably just hungry."

Yakko laughed a little. "Alright, but you'll tell me if anything is wrong, right?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

The brothers stood in a bored silence for a while, before the rest of their family walked in and the festivities officially began.

It started with the feast, which was pretty harmless, as Wakko enjoyed talking with his family and the food was "quite excellent". The hall was filled with good cheer and hearty laughter, which he could appreciate.

However, after that, things began to blur.

It seemed only moments ago he was eating when suddenly everything was taken away and it turned into social hour. and Dot and their parents disappeared once more. He recalled Yakko asking if it was okay for him to go to Max, to which Wakko nodded and even pushed him away some. Oh god- he hoped that wasn't too aggressive.

Now he was alone. People were talking, walking, dancing, all sorts of activities. Wakko tried to take it all in, but all of the colors and sounds were starting to burn his eyes.

Friends. He was told he had to make friends.

He tried looking around for kids his age, but just turning his head made him dizzy.

Hmph.

Still, he was determined to function as a normal child would so he began weaving through the rapidly shifting crowd as he had earlier, just with a much louder and more busy crowd.

Suddenly his suit was starting to feel a lot more uncomfortable than before. God- if he could just find someone-

He bumped right into a lady in a bright purple dress. He quickly stuttered an apology before scurrying away as fast as he could, not even waiting for a response.

Seriously- was his suit trying to choke him? He pulled on it desperately, but if anything it just made the pull tighter. Wakko growled to himself as he walked further and further away from whoever that lady was, until he hit the wall.

At least the marble was cool, it was starting to feel like it was a million degrees in here.

Still, it wasn't enough. he still felt hot, and stuffy- was he even breathing anymore?

...Yes, yes he was. Rather fast though- oh dear, was that his heart? oh god- what was happening? Why was the music so loud? Why was his collar so tight? When was the last time he blinked? Where were these "kids" Wakko was supposed to make friends with?

Wait- no, he could see those. A group of them- shit, they were looking at him. Wakko noticed his nail was twitching nervously- he grabbed it and forced it to stop, but the kids laughed.

Wakko ran away again, covering his ears, his face turning red and the knot in his stomach transporting itself to his throat.

"No, no, no, no. Please, not now..." He pleaded with himself, but he didn't listen, and tears started to form. Wakko looked desperately for a quick way out, but still couldn't find any- curse the size of this place.

However, as his eyes darted around anxiously, he spotted something- a table covered in a white cloth that went to the ground. Without hesitation, Wakko went to it, making sure no one saw him before crawling underneath.

Wakko stayed there, covering his ears and rocking back and forth awhile, cursing his stupid brain for making these stupid tears that wouldn't end. He also cursed the stupid music for being too loud and the guests for being so many.

He wanted Mom.

He wanted mom to come and find him and scoop him up and take him to the playroom and sit in the rocking chair and rock him to sleep.

However, she didn't come.

No one did.

He was alone, and these tears weren't making him any calmer. Everything still felt so loud- it wasn't this loud before- he loved mom's coronation. Why was his brain so stupid?!

The young prince continued like that for a while, before someone came and lifted the tablecloth. He tried to make a run for it, but the someone grabbed his arm before he could- Wakko turned to look at their face and-

It was Max.

"S-sorry, I probably shouldn't... grab you," He let go, and Wakko scooted back, though he didn't leave. Max saw this as an invitation and joined him under the table.

"A-are- uh... Are you okay?" Max asked. Wakko looked away and shrugged.

"Right... not much of a talker..." Max recalled. Wakko nodded once, though he instantly regretted it, as it made his head feel weird.

Max tapped his fingers on his knee as he tried to figure something out. Wakko avoided any looks the Disney Prince gave him.

"Do you want some water? I can go get you some water," Max offered. Wakko sniffled and thought about it, before nodding once more (and regretting it once more).

with that, he disappeared, though not for too long.

Wakko noticed he stopped crying.

"Here, take this," Max handed him the glass. Wakko accepted the offering, taking a long drink.

Well, that felt at least a little bit better.

He glanced at Max.

"A-aren't you supposed to be with Yakko?" he asked.

"Dot was practically begging Yakko for a dance and I let him, it's her day after all," Max chuckled.

That made sense.

Wakko looked down at the glass, tapping his finger against it and looking at the water ripple.

"Do you need to step out of the party for a sec?" Max asked.

Wakko shrugged, taking a sip.

"Here- I'll help you find an exit," Max said, getting up and holding the cloth open for Wakko.

He hesitated.

He didn't deserve this- such kindness from the guy he locked in the tower mere weeks ago- it didn't make sense.

Then again, he'd give anything to get out of here.

Wakko listening to his senses and got out.

Carefully he followed Max through the gigantic room until they eventually reached a door, through which both of them slipped out of and into a calm and dark hallway.

Instantly, Wakko felt calmed, taking a deep breath.

"Wanna sit down?" Max asked, gesturing to the couches nearby. Wakko nodded. However, instead of sitting on the couch, he chose to lay on the cool floor, even taking off his gloves so he could feel the marble with his fingers.

Max didn't say anything for a while, not seeming to mind the silence. Which was good- because Wakko didn't feel like breaking it.

After a while though, a thought nagged at his brain.

Why.

Why on earth would Max help him? After everything he did? After everything he jeopardized? It didn't make sense.

Wakko sat up. Max looked at him but didn't say anything.

Wakko sighed.

"Why-?" He paused.

"Why... are you being so nice to me?"

"You were in trouble, I couldn't ignore that," Max shrugged. Wakko frowned, putting his gloves back on.

"I-i... Aren't you mad? At least a little?" He asked.

"It wasn't my first time being locked in a room for hours on end," Max snorted.

"Y-yeah, but I tried to hurt you. And Yakko..." Wakko looked at the ground. "I know how much you mean to him."

Max blinked.

"I- uh... well-" Max struggled with his words a moment.

"I don't... blame you, I guess. It's as new to you as it is to me and with a past and family tree like yours, I guess I don't blame you for lashing out? I dunno," Max shrugged, looking away.

Huh...

"Still... you didn't have to do this."

"I wanted to. Trust me, I would've helped any kid I found under there, but I'm glad it was you," Max said.

Wakko looked at him, deciding whether or not he believed that. Ultimately, he did.

"You know... Yakko talks a lot about you," Max said, piquing Wakko's interest.

"He worries a lot, but he says you're a really sweet kid, and I believe that," Max smiled a little. "You should be easier on yourself, you're still growing up you know?"

Wakko thought about that.

"I guess," He said. Max snorted.

"You know... you do seem like a pretty cool kid. I'm sorry if you ever felt I was ignoring you, I promise I'll try to make up for it too," He said.

Wakko thought about that too.

"Thanks," He said.

"I really do hope we can grow to like each other. Yakko means a lot to me and you mean a lot to him... you know?" Max blushed a little, scratching the back of his neck.

Wakko nodded, grinning a little.

"So... are we... cool?" Max asked.

Wakko thought about that as well.

"Yeah, we're cool," He said with his signature smile.

"Cool," Max grinned back. "Because I'm pretty sure Yakko might lose it if his dance with Dot ended and he can't find me."

Wakko laughed.

"Will you be alright?" Max asked, standing. Wakko nodded, getting up as well.

"I'm feeling a lot better... though I think I'll look for mum and dad," He said.

"Fair enough," Max nodded once. "Well- uh... see you around, I guess."

"See you around," Wakko laughed at his awkwardness before going back through the doors and back to the party.

Max followed soon thereafter, hoping Yakko wouldn't be too mad or worried at him for his sudden disappearance.

.o0o.

Yakko couldn't believe that a year ago today he thought his parents were dead. It baffled him honestly- he could turn his head and his parents were right there. They were never really dead- it shocked him to remember sometimes.

He also couldn't believe that only a year ago the most celebration they could share for Dot's birthday was a mini cake they had to sneak late at night.

And now look where he was- dancing in the middle of the ballroom with his little sister having the time of his life- despite the fact Dot couldn't stop giggling and he almost dropped her that one time.

However, he had to draw the line after three songs, which Dot understood, and he gave her back to their parents, hoping Max wouldn't be too mad about Dot taking up so much of his time.

"Ah, Max, there you are- sorry for dancing so long, I have a hard time saying no to her," Yakko laughed between pants, scratching the back of his neck.

"You just got done?" Max teased.

"Yeah, she really liked dancing," Yakko shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

"You look like you could use a breather," Max raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who, me? Whatever would give that idea?" He played back, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"C'mon- let's go to the balcony," Max said, taking his hand.

When they got to the door Yakko paused as he looked back at his family, unsure. However, his parents looked at him, and after giving a fair look of warning, they both gave him a thumbs up and nod of approval, and Yakko went off with his prince.

However, they didn't pick a random one, they went all the way through the halls to the usual one they'd go to when Max visited Warnerstock (the kid had a thing for balconies).

"Ahh, fresh air," Yakko embraced the cool night.

"Yep," Max embraced it too, immediately going and leaning on the rails.

"Are you liking the party?" Yakko asked.

"It's pretty good- though a little crowded, but I always know how to find some space," Max answered.

"I feel that- when my birthday rolls around, I'll make it a lot less crowded. I don't know what Dot had against having it outside, but what are you gonna do?" Yakko shrugged.

"I think Wakko would appreciate a smaller shindig," Max said, looking at the garden.

"What makes you say that?" Yakko decided to take his place next to Max also leaning against the railing.

"Ran into him- he wasn't having the best time so I helped ground him again," Max said like it was no big deal.

It was.

"Grounded him? You- managed to calm him down? Is he okay? What happened?" Yakko asked quickly.

"Woah, woah, it's okay. He's totally fine, just... overwhelmed." Max said.

"Oh... well... I'm glad he's okay," Yakko took a deep breath. "And I'm even more glad you were able to help him- that's huge... really."

He looked at him when he said that last part. Max blushed.

"I would've helped anyone, seriously," He looked away.

"Mhm, sure," Yakko teased.

"I am serious though- it probably means a lot to Wakko- he doesn't accept help easily and to allow you... it means he's starting to like you," Yakko said in all seriousness.

"That's good," Max nodded. "I really do want your family to like me- I just... don't have the best ways of showing it, I suppose."

"Hey, you're doing great so far," Yakko held his hand.

There was a moment before Yakko realized what he was doing and both boys broke the gesture.

"Haha... yeahhhh," Max looked at the wall away from Yakko.

There was a stretch of silence between the two, neither knowing what to do. Sure they knew what they wanted but... things are never as easy as just doing what you want.

"My dad and uncles like you too- if you care about that," Max decided to say.

"That's good," Yakko smiled a little, rubbing his thumb on the railing.

Another pause.

"You know- It's funny to me how when we met you thought I might too cool for you," Max remarked.

"When did I ever say that?" Yakko said.

"You called me cool at least fifty times upon first meeting me," Max play punched his arm.

"As I recall, you called me cool, so who's the real cool one here?" Yakko punched him back and the princes laughed.

"Alright, alright, you got me," Max chuckled. "I was just trying to say you were totally wrong, I don't have a cool bone in my body."

"God- you're so cool you don't even know how cool you are. Typical," Yakko sighed teasingly.

"Hey, didn't I just say you're pretty cool too?" Max accused playfully.

"Oh please, you're way cooler. No trauma and with fluffy, luxurious hair like that? Please," Yakko rolled his eyes.

"Oh puh-lease yourself. Trauma is just a cool backstory and you're home is a lot more fun and a lot less crowded and your family is a lot more cool too," Max pointed his finger at Yakko.

"You're exaggerating," Yakko pointed back.

"Nope- not at all. You're one of my first true friends and that automatically makes you very cool," Max crossed his arms.

"Oh yeah? W-well-" Yakko paused, looking at Max carefully.

A pause.

Max's dark brown eyes shined back at Yakko, reflecting the stars that surrounded them wonderfully. His fluffy and luxurious hair framed his face with perfect ease. His signature smile slowly turned into that of curiosity.

Yakko felt his heart flutter.

"I'm not as cool as you think," Yakko stepped down, looking at the ground.

Coward.

Another pause.

"..."

"Well maybe you are right- maybe I am cooler than you."

"Wha-?"

Before Yakko could finish the sentence, Max grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a kiss.

"S-see?" Max was internally "fjdkaf;sfj"-ing in his brain. "You've won- I'm a lot cooler."

"Y-yeah," Yakko could barely speak his face was as red as Wakko's hat. "You're... yeah," his face melted into a goofy grin.

"Oh god- I'm sorry- d-did you not mean that..?" Max panicked, quickly becoming embarrassed.

"N-no!" Yakko snapped to life. "I-i... I- uh..."

"I liked it," He managed to say. Max smiled.

"W-... Wanna do it again?" Yakko proposed, and Max nodded, and they shared another kiss.

Yakko knew it was corny to think, but it truly felt just like fireworks in his chest.

He liked Max- Max liked him. A part of himself was realized- and he felt alive. A good kind of alive- not the kind of alive that came from life or death situations.

"So... I guess that makes us even," Max joked. Yakko laughed.

"I guess so," He couldn't get himself to stop smiling- neither could Max. They looked at each other before bursting into laughter again.

"Man, we really should return to the party," Max said.

"Yeah, you're right," Yakko's face was starting to hurt from the smiling.

"Do- uh... do you think your parents will be cool... orrrr...?" Max asked.

"Psh, I'm sure they'll be fine," He said without hesitation.

"Cool," Max said, opening the door out of the balcony.

Yakko looked at him for a moment, trying to absorb the moment as best he could.

"You okay?" Max asked.

"Yep," Yakko said, taking a deep breath as he implanted it in his memory in his brain forever.

"C'mon, let's go before they think we've done something stupid," Yakko said, quickly joining Max and grabbing his hand before running back to join his family.

however, right before entering the party room once more, Yakko paused.

"Does this mean our friendship is basically ruined?" He asked.

Max thought about it.

"I wouldn't think of it as a ruining per se... maybe think of it as an upgrade of sorts," Max winked.

God, he was so much cooler.

"Cool," Yakko grinned, squeezing Max's hand.

"Well... uh- shall we?" Max let go and offered Yakko his arm.

Yakko thought about it.

Taking it would mean no taking it back- it would mean the whole party would basically know that they kissed (holy shit- they kissed! that was a thing that happened!). His parents, his siblings, practically the whole kingdom, and their allies.

Yakko couldn't imagine any other way to walk back in.

He took his arm.

"We shall."

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[winterdrag0n]

Treasure - Part 10

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader; Steve x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: Bucky loathed Steve's reason for breaking up with you. And being Bucky who has an unhealthy needs to always protect Steve, he thought he had to fix it. But it might just bite him back in the process.

Chapter Warning: None, just angst (but this series has been a full angsty ride anyway)

18+ Only! The series contains other trigger warnings such as mention of rape and unhealthy coping mecanism. Please DO NOT consume this content if you’re uncomfortable!

Word Count: 3.5K

[Treasure Masterlist]

X. Bucky: I got greedy

For as long as Bucky could remember, Steve had always been the center of his universe. He never fell in love with anybody, but he had loved Steve deeply, he never cared to label this love. Is it platonic? Is it romantic? The line was blurry and since they had too much fun together, he didn’t care to analyse it.

Everyone wondered why the popular James Barnes was sticking to this small and sickly kid all the time. Bucky didn’t care about those comments. All he knew was, he loved Steve and he wanted to protect Steve. Maybe it was Steve’s fragile frame, maybe it was the blue on Steve’s beautiful eyes, or maybe it was Steve’s heart, so kind and pure and so strongly stubborn.

When Steve had his growth spurt in high school, his outside finally reflected his inner beauty. People got to see Steve for what he was worth and everyone started to flock around Steve, admiring his broad shoulders, long legs and strong jaw. Nobody saw him before, but Bucky. Bucky loved him first, and for Bucky, no matter how big Steve had gotten, he would never stop protecting Steve. Maybe he didn’t need protection from physical pain anymore, but he definitely needed protection from broken hearts, cause that idiot wore his heart on his sleeves, and he loved hard.

The moment Bucky saw Steve in his parent’s house on the funeral day, he saw the small Steve again. He was standing while she straightened his tie, his back was somehow hunched and his eyes were hollow. Bucky’s heart wrenched, he swore he would give the world to make Steve feel better.

It’s been a month since the accident and Steve has lost a lot of weight, the situation is eating him alive. He tries to look fine in front of his mother but when he’s back to the apartment, he seems lost again. Steve spends his time taking care of his mother, he doesn’t get to mourn his father. He skipped the phases of grieving, jumping straight to moving on, because he knows his mother needs him.

Bucky always needs to remind Steve to drink water, get some sleep or even take the jacket with him when he goes out. He knows only time can help Steve, he knows she feels it too and what they can do is just being there for Steve.

When Bucky noticed she washed Steve’s clothes, made his bed, cleaned up his bathroom and came to the apartment lugging bags of groceries, he started to offer her help and they became a good team.

The unspeakable tension between them had loosen up and they became friends organically.

Y/N: Will be a bit late today, can you make sure he eats his smoothie?

And,

Bucky: I’m at Whole Foods, do you think he’d like kombucha?

And,

Y/N: It’s your turn to scrub the bathroom! I changed his bed sheets yesterday!

Bucky: We've run out of bathroom cleaner, can you pick it up on the way here?

And,

Bucky: He finished the yogurt, and he ate up my puddings too.

She comes back from Steve’s room— he was up the whole night in the hospital so it’s good that he’s finally asleep— and sees Bucky reading a book on the couch.

“I’m gonna grab some food and juice at Whole Foods, ok?” She takes Steve’s car key.

“Can you buy more puddings?” Bucky grins. “And twelve packs of Corona Light please?”

“It’s heavy!” she complains.

“I’ll drive with you. I think it’d be cheaper when I buy 24 packs.” Bucky then grabs the key from Her hand and puts it back onto the cabinet. “Let’s take my car.”

Bucky had his Jeep delivered to New York when he was relocated, it’s not convenient to drive in New York but it’s necessary for him to go to work, after all his base is in New Jersey. But he doesn’t mind driving to the grocery store because it’s the only place where he doesn’t struggle to find parkings.

The radio is on when Bucky starts his car, a familiar song fills the air. Bucky and her look at each other, a faint smile appears on his face. “You remember?”

“Yeah, that guy played this song at the bar, the night we drunk-called Dr. Raynor.” She stares into the space between her fingers.

🎵 ‘So don’t go away, say what you say. Say that you’ll stay, forever and a day, in the time of my life.’ 🎵

“I love them. I looked them up, nineties British Band—“ Bucky’s voice is soft.

“Oasis,” she adds, Bucky nods.

🎵 ‘‘Cause I need more time...

Yes, I need more time just to make things right.’ 🎵

And then they’re humming into the song in sync staring onto the road, then it starts drizzling.

There is something about that moment, pitter patter from the raindrops and the song that prompts the past they’re trying to let go. The two of them saying nothing, just sharing solitude, lost in memory.

A middle aged lady is loading her black sedan’s trunk with stuff from the trolley so Bucky hangs around to take her parking spot. He turns on the hazard signal and waits. She has been nothing but quiet the whole journey.

“Are you ok? You’re not cold?” Bucky makes conversation.

“Yeah,” she answers.

“How are you really?” Bucky asks again. “Like really… How are you doing? I bet the whole situation is taking tolls on you too.”

She hesitates for a while but then smiles faintly to Bucky, “To be honest… I’m glad you’re here with him.”

“Yeah… Anything for Steve. How are you? You didn’t answer that.”

“I’m okay, James. Thank you for checking on me.” She smiles at him, seeming earnestly grateful.

“Good,” he says. The black sedan finally makes a move and Bucky slots in the car perfectly. That’s when the drizzle turns to rain.

“Shit,” Bucky swears. “I think I have an umbrella in the trunk.” He steps out from the car and opens his trunk, but no umbrella in sight. He goes around to the passenger’s seat side of the door and opens it. She stares at him when he takes off his black leather jacket and lifts it up over her head, using it as a cover. “Sorry, guess we have to wing it.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” she says, gesturing to Bucky to shelter himself with the jacket, but instead now Bucky is covering the two of them with the jacket. Their bodies held so close together, her left shoulder pressed against Bucky’s chest.

“Come on,” he says, starting to run to the store and she automatically follows his pace.

They have to stop at the intersection because a lorry passes by. When he sees that the rain wets her right shoulder, Bucky shifts the jacket more to the right side, making sure she is fully covered. She notices that and says, “You’re gonna get wet too!”

“It’s fine, my arm is waterproof,” he jokes about the metal arm. She chuckles and smiles at him. He’s staring at her, intensely. Bucky’s face is now so close with hers, it only takes a simple nudge to kiss her.

And he wants to kiss her.

What?

He doesn’t realize how much he’s missed her.

There’s a voice inside Bucky’s head and he doesn’t like it.

It’d only take a second to lean in, he wants to kiss her, there’s greed in his eyes.

And it also only takes a second for her to turn her head to the right side, gesturing to cross the road now that the lorry is gone.

Now there’s only regret and sadness in Bucky’s eyes, disappointed at himself for wanting to kiss his best friend's girl.

The lorry has long passed and she steps forward, Bucky follows her pace this time and thankfully they reach the store with only some sniffles and wet shoes.

❀☀☂☃

The boxes have finally arrived and Bucky opens them right away. He’s specifically looking for a book which cost him a warning from his CO for missing a briefing. But he couldn’t miss the opportunity to meet George R. R. Martin at Dallas Comic Con and it was the only chance he got to obtain his autograph. He drove for four hours to Dallas, queued for five hours, drove back for another four hours and obviously missed the briefing. But all he was thinking about was how excited her face would be when she got to see it, so he didn’t care too much about pissing his CO off.

Her face indeed lightens up when she sees the witty note from George R. R. Martin. It was a joke that they shared in Laughlin, they named themselves Mother of Crayons and One-armed Raven, spoofs from the book’s characters. Crayons because of her job as a children books author and one-armed because of Bucky’s obvious reason.

“How was he in person?” She yelps, asking for more details of Bucky’s encounter with Martin.

“Well, he was kind of obnoxious actually,” he says.

“Really? So I guess it’s not so surprising, he killed so many good characters! He wants people to suffer doesn’t he?” she chuckles.

“I know right!” Bucky laughs with her, content to see how happy he makes her.

“Steve! Look what James got me!” She shows Steve the first page of the book when Steve comes back from walking Natasha out.

“I don’t know how famous he is, so tell me on difficulty level 1 to 10, how rare it is and how much we can sell it?” Steve jokes.

“Don’t you dare!” She punches him playfully.

“Well, I waited for five hours in comic con. The last hour was raining and I ended up missing my mission brief. So it’s 9 out of 10, I would say, Steve. What if you let me live here rent free and we call it even?” Bucky grins at him.

Somehow Steve doesn’t laugh, he’s just staring at Bucky with furrowed eyebrows. Bucky shrugs and picks up the last box into his bedroom.

❀☀☂☃

Steve slammed the door and left Bucky alone, feeling so miserable and guilty. He couldn’t believe it slipped out of his tongue and the damage of his stupidity could be massive, this time. He wished he could calm Steve down, but Bucky knew best how stubborn Steve could be, so there was no point coaxing him in that kind of situation. He had to leave that night for two-weeks long mission in Okinawa, probably with minimum communication, not because they weren’t allowed but it was usually long-hour and extremely tiring, physically and mentally.

The two-weeks long mission went by so slowly, although Bucky was relieved when he texted Steve one day and he replied that he was fine and he was enjoying Bali. So they made up, Bucky thought.

The mission is finally done and now Bucky comes home to Steve’s empty apartment feeling exhausted and craving for food that’s not served in a vacuum sealed tinfoil. He remembers that Steve has come back to the vet’s office so he takes shower, unpacks some of his clean clothes (he washed them off in the military house) and texts Steve.

Bucky: Back in NY. Dinner tonight?

Steve: I have some leftover lasagna in the fridge. Warm them up later, I’ll be home around 8.

He glances at the clock. He has four hours to nap until Steve comes home so he passes out on the couch almost immediately out of exhaustion.

The distinctive smell of cooked tomatoes and basil is mouthwatering and waking Bucky up from his dreamless nap. He rubs his eyes and walks to the kitchen, Steve is there, taking the bubbling hot lasagna out of the oven.

“Where did you get it from?” Bucky asks nonchalantly and sits on the bar stool facing the island. Steve’s kitchen is big and white, there’s an island in the center with built-in bar top at the side— where they usually eat, four gray stools completing the minimalist look.

“I cooked this, jerk. Is it so hard to believe?” Steve rolls his eyes.

“No shit!” Bucky can’t believe it.

“I did, I made big batches and gave some to my mom,” Steve says.

“It does smell good, Steve. Let’s dig in!” Bucky doesn’t wait any longer. Even though the lasagna is still hot, he devours it within five minutes. He’s usually eating big meals after his mission to make up for the lost calories.

“How was your Bali trip?” Bucky rinses his dirty plate in the sink and loads it into the dishwasher. Steve is still eating. “Mmh-kay. T’was beautiful. I loved Ubud the best.”

“Your mom enjoyed it?” Bucky asks again.

“Yeah, she loved it. But I could tell, she… thought about my Dad a lot.” Steve grimaces. Bucky doesn’t respond, he pats Steve’s shoulder gently. He then opens the fridge and takes out two bottles of Corona, and is looking for lemon.

“We’re out of lemon.” Steve reads his mind.

“Goddamnit,” Bucky swears. “Oh, well…” He still opens the bottle cap and gulps the beer anyway. “Can you ask Y/n to bring some lemon? Is she coming for dinner?”

Steve’s demeanor changes instantly. He doesn’t answer.

Bucky sits on the stool, his brows furrowed and eyes squinting at Steve. “What?”

Steve’s face turning a little red, Bucky can tell he’s angry. “I don’t know, Steve. You tell me. You said we have to stop being idiots and talk to each other.”

“We broke up,” Steve delivers the news. Bucky is taken aback, he knew the damage could be massive but he didn’t think it would be colossal, even to end such a strong relationship.

“You’re kidding…” Bucky says in disbelief.

“I wish I was kidding.” Steve looks annoyed.

“Steve, come on.”

“What, Bucky? You didn’t know it was coming?” he fumes.

“No, I didn’t!” he sternly speaks.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Steve drops his fork on the plate, his lasagna is half eaten and he leaves to his bedroom.

Bucky hesitates for a while, still trying to process the new piece of information, and then moves to knock on Steve's room— more banging than knocking. “Stop being a child, Steve. Come out and talk.”

Steve opens the door, his face is still grimacing, “We don’t have—“

“I’m done shoving this under the carpet!” Bucky cuts him off. “Oh, we’re gonna talk, alight, Rogers. Kitchen, now.”

Steve follows Bucky back to the kitchen reluctantly and stands by the island. Bucky downs his beer quickly. “Steve,” he starts. “Did you break up with her?”

“I guess.” Steve shrugs, “I did say it first… But she wanted it too.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky tilts his head.

“Yeah!” Steve insists.

“She loves you, Steve.” Bucky says meekly.

“God, stop it, Bucky. You’re such a hypocrite!” There, Steve finally lets out his frustration. “You’re in love with her! You told me it happened three years ago but for fuck’s sake, three years later you’re still in love with her, what do you want me to do, Bucky? Pretend like I don’t know?”

“What does my feeling have to do with her?” Bucky asks calmly.

Steve catches up his breath and sighs before replying, “Because I know you’re unhappy…”

“So, you broke up because of me? Because I love her? Christ, you martyred your relationship for my happiness? Goddamnit, Steve! You’re a stupid punk, I can’t even—“

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just stares at Bucky, confused.

“You’re not doing anything for my sake… You’re hurting her!”

“But you love her…” Steve says wryly.

“That’s my problem. I’m dealing with it…”

“How exactly? By queuing hours to get an autographed book for her? By squeezing ketchup on her plate before she even asked for it? By eating all the cream in the Oreo so she eats the cookies only? You know she hates the cream... That’s how you deal with it?” Steve talks acidly, now it’s Bucky’s turn to not say anything. “You think I didn’t notice, did you?” There’s sadness in Steve’s voice.

“Well… I said I’m dealing with it… I didn’t say I do it well,” Bucky speaks in agony.

“Bucky…”

“I kinda hoped… time would deal with it.” Bucky looks at Steve, being as open as he could be.

The two of them are standing still, not a single movement or words, just sharing the time and space, drowned in each of their own minds. Bucky looks down to the floor, his right hand awkwardly playing with the metal fingers. Steve is leaning on the island, staring at Bucky.

“So what now?” Bucky’s voice breaks the silence.

“I don’t know… I think it’s better this way… I don’t—“ Steve chokes on his own words, face grimaces.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Bucky says. “You had it good with her. I’m sorry I ruined it.”

“No…” Steve shakes his head lightly. “I screwed up. It was on me.”

And then there’s a long moment of silence, before Steve says sadly, as if he’s found an epiphany, “Fuck, I screwed up.”

❀☀☂☃

The next two weeks are spent in agony, Bucky can’t focus on his work, doesn’t feel hungry or sleepy at all and he always seems like he forgets what he’s about to do. His mind keeps wandering to her

He fidgets with his phone, drops it to the table, picks it up, drops it again and picks it up again.

He opens the fridge, but doesn’t really know what he’s searching for. So he closes the fridge afterwards, only to do the same thing again five minutes later.

Steve has been burying his mind with work and a new project he does with his mom, The Rogers decided to remove their pool and hired a landscape artist. Distractions seem to work on helping him deal with the breakup.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his mission has been postponed and he doesn’t really have a lot of things to do besides testing some flights and doing some boring paperwork. He comes home to New York early afternoon this Friday, sitting in front of his phone and wanting to contact Y/N so badly. His birthday is in two days and he thinks he deserves to get himself a present. Just a conversation— to make sure she's fine— would be more than enough for him.

So Bucky grabs his phone and texts her.

Bucky: How’ve you been?

Shit, it’s sent. Why does he have to act cool? He could’ve written a longer message! There is no reply until forty minutes later when Bucky opens the fridge for the hundredth time.

Y/N: Been good. You?

Ugh, she replies so little!

Bucky: It’s my birthday in two days. Can you buy me a pudding cup?

Now he’s getting greedy. He said he was happy with just knowing if she’s okay.

Y/N: Rain check? I’m not in town.

This is what he gets from being greedy, a punch in the gut. Rejection does feel very bitter when it comes from someone whom you want to meet so badly.

Bucky: Where are you?

Y/N: Atlanta.

Bucky: What are you doing there? For how long?

Y/N: Book tour. Sunday will be the last day, but I’m flying back on Thursday. Plan to check out Great Smoky Mountain.

Bucky: Yeah it’s awesome. I’ve been there before.

Y/N: Yeah? Any thoughts on which trail I should go?

Bucky is typing something but then he stops and presses the call icon instead. “Hey!” The voice on the other side greets him cheerfully.

“Well, you sound chirpy,” Bucky comments.

“Yeah, a little girl just came by and said how much she loved my book.” Bucky can feel the excitement in her voice.

“You’re still signing?” Bucky asks.

“Nope, just finished. But some kids are still here, a fun bunch.”

“I can call you back later,” Bucky says.

She is silent for a while before she asks, “Why did you call James?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t really call people to chat,” she says. “Did something happen?”

“No. I was just… checking in on you. Really.”

“Well, then you don’t need to worry. I’m fine.” She assures him. “How are you… and Steve?” There’s an awkwardness when she said the latter name.

“Okay, I guess. He... um, he gets himself busy.”

“Good,” she says flatly. “I gotta go, James. Thanks for checking in. Take care, ok?”

“Yeah… you too.” And then the line is cut and James is sitting there in the living room, feeling worse than before the conversation. Wasn’t a birthday gift supposed to bring joy?

❀☀☂☃

It’s Sunday 2 A.M. Bucky wakes up, brushes his teeth and does something with his hair. He is scrabbling around in Steve’s storage room and finally finds a foldable tent and camping gear, with the only two free fingers, he picks up his car keys.

He’s driving thirteen hours straight to Atlanta with three cups of coffee and lots of protein bars.

[Previous Chapter] | [Next Chapter]

A/N: Likes and Reblogs make me happy; comments make me dance like crazy! :) I have the next three chapters ready and will try to post this weekend!

Taglist will be done in notes.

[maximons]

Without You

Summary: Everything seems to be going alright for Wanda Maximoff, but a mission gone horribly awry makes everything crash and burn.

Word Count: 3,101

Genre: Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, burns, scarring

A/N: Alright kids, you ready for angst time? My first full out angst fic, oh boy. This ones got no happy ending guys, so do with that what you will. This takes place during Civil War, so spoilers...? I guess? I’d say Happy Reading, but I don’t think you guys will be that happy by the end of this sooo good luck!

Lagos.

That’s the place where everything in Wanda’s life fell apart. Or at least fell apart even further than it had before.

Some of the team were out on a mission. You guys finally managed to track down Rumlow and his gang after about a year of searching. Everything was going fairly well, yes there was some collateral damage, and things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but overall, it looked like you guys would come out of this with a win.

And then, it happened.

Wanda and you had begun to jog up to Steve’s location, where you saw him stare Rumlow down. Something in you just told you that this wasn’t going to go well. You looked at the scene in front of you, and then your gaze fell onto the building behind it. It was too close for comfort.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check that building.” You turned to your girlfriend. “Looks like there could be a lot of people in there, I’m gonna try to get them out.” She looked at you, and then to the building briefly. Part of her wanted to question why when the fight was happening out here, but she knew in your line of work things can be unpredictable.

She nodded. “Okay, be safe.” You nodded back with a small smile, and pecked her on the cheek.

“Always am.” With that, you ran off.

It was only about two or three minutes after you ran in when things went to hell.

Rumlow pulled a pin on his vest, and Wanda reacted as quickly as she could, capturing him mid explosion in her magic. She lifted him up, trying to get him as far away from the people below as possible, but she couldn’t hold it anymore. The explosion went off.

Blowing a huge hole into that building.

Wanda stood there, shocked for a moment over what just happened. Her hand came and slowly covered her mouth, mind going over all the damage she just caused. She vaguely heard Steve calling for fire and rescue, and then it hit her.

You were in there.

“Y/n...” She whispered, still in a state of shock, but she quickly snapped out of it and sprang into action. “Y/n!” She heard Steve yell for her to wait, but she didn’t care. She took off, flying up and landed in one of the building’s destroyed floors.

She did her best to ignore the carnage around her, carnage she caused. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat, and continued her search for you. 

And then she found you.

You were a super soldier, so luckily you didn’t die from the blast, she could still feel your pulse. But you didn’t look good.

You were lying on the charred floor, unconscious. Half of your suit was burned off, leaving nasty burns all on your arm and torso, some even creeping up your neck and face. Blood also dripped down from an open wound on your temple.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care about your appearance, though. You were still alive, and that’s the main thing she cared about right now.

“Don’t worry.” She sobbed out, hand gently caressing your unburned cheek. “You’re okay...you’re gonna be okay...” She tore her gaze away from you for a minute, and looked around. Tears falling at the sight of multiple bodies, people who weren’t as lucky as you.

People who were dead because of her.

“...I’m so sorry...”

The next week was chaos.

You were brought to the compound’s medical facility immediately, doctors working fast to try and save your life. They managed to stabilize you, now it was just a waiting game as to when you would wake up. Wanda would visit you everyday, barely being able to leave your side. Steve managed to convince her that she needed to rest, saying that you wouldn’t want to see her neglecting her needs. She hesitantly complied, and finally went to her room to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the news started reporting the incident.

And of course they blamed her.

Logically, Wanda knew this wasn’t entirely her fault. Rumlow was the one who turned himself into a bomb. She was just trying to save the lives below. That thought brought her little comfort though.

She was still responsible for the lives lost in that building. She was still responsible for you, the love of her life, being severely injured and in a coma.

Maybe they were right.

Steve didn’t let her wallow in that thought for too long though, because he shut the TV off. He sat down and gave her one of his hope speeches, and she appreciated the effort, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s my fault.” She whispered. “All of those people, dead because of me...and Y/n...” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. Steve placed a hand on her leg, trying to comfort her.

“You know...she doesn’t blame you, I know she doesn’t.”

“Maybe she should...they all should.”

Steve couldn’t get anything else out, as Vision phased in the room and told them of the arrival of Secretary Ross.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he had told them about the Sokovia Accords. Wanda hated the idea, forcing heroes to register with the government, essentially making them puppets for them. She knew you would hate it too, you never were one to trust the government.

“Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but if it weren’t for us, there’d be a lot more blood spilled.” Sam argued.

“Tell that to the innocent civilians in that Lagos hospital building.” Ross argued back. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

“If it weren’t for Wanda, hundreds of people in the streets below would have been killed.” Steve cut in. “If it weren’t for Y/n, hundreds of more people would have been in that building.”

“And look where that landed her.”

Wanda had enough. She shot up from her chair, and stormed out of the room.

She went straight to your hospital room, your still unconscious body covered in bandages. She pulled up a chair beside your bed, hand going to grip yours. She tried to speak, but couldn’t bring herself to form the words. So she just rested her head on your joined hands and cried.

The next few weeks saw the Avengers falling apart, divided over the accords. Wanda was especially disappointed in Natasha’s decision, given that you two were best friends. 

Wanda hasn’t left the compound. Most of her time was spent visiting you and sleeping as best she could. Your burns had begun healing, but barely. They still left pretty nasty scars. Your breathing had improved, which satisfied the doctors. They had said you could wake up any moment now, Wanda just hoped it was soon.

The next day, Wanda walked into the kitchen to find Vision cooking. She found that odd, since she knew he didn’t eat, but he explained that he was making it for her. You used to cook for her a lot, and after a few disasters, you finally got the recipe down. Vision’s was no where near as good as yours, but she appreciates the effort.

After a conversation about their powers and their fear of them, Wanda volunteered to go to the store to pick up some paprika that would greatly help the dish. Vision stopped her.

“Vision...are you not letting me leave?”

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vision stopped her again. “Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident.”

Wanda looked at the synthezoid in disbelief. “I’m not an out of control time bomb. It was an accident.”

“I know. I do, but...you powers are very unpredictable. You are also...vulnerable. My scanners have indicated you are, how you say, ‘on edge’. You have been ever since Miss L/n was admitted in the medical wing.”

Wanda’s gaze turned into a harsh glare. “I know that human emotion is a foreign concept to you Vision, but trust me, if your girlfriend was ever put in a coma because of you...being ‘on edge’ is the least you would be.”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turned around and stormed off. She headed to the one place that her feet often dragged her to the last weeks. Your bedside. 

She sat and took a hold of your hand. She stared at you for a moment before she spoke. “Hey, baby. Things have been...hard without you to say the least. Not that this wouldn’t be hard anyway, but everything is falling apart. These stupid accords are ruining everything. Tony has become a government pet, Nat joining him, Steve is off doing who knows what, and now...I’m locked in.” She paused. “You know, as much as I wish more than anything that you were awake and by my side right now...part of me is glad that you wouldn’t have to see your family fall apart like this. It’d break your heart...” She stayed for a few more moments, staring at your face and taking in your features once again. She then leaned down to kiss your hand. “I love you.” With that, she left.

Later that night, Wanda was back in the main room of the compound. You still haven’t woken up, she just learned she was essentially on house arrest, so she was trying to find ways to find ways to distract herself. She was reading a book, when she heard a loud explosion go off outside. She walked over to the window to take a look, Vision joining her a few moments later.

“What is it?”

“Stay here please.”

Wanda was left alone for a moment, before she felt a presence behind her. She quickly grabbed hold of the knife on the table, and flinging it towards the new presence. She halted it when she saw who it was.

Clint.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur. Clint was convincing her to come help Steve, Vision came back in but was trapped, Wanda hesitated and Clint gave her one of those hope speeches. She was about to decline, before he said one last thing.

“You know, if Y/n was awake...I know she’d side with Steve, and she’d only hope you’d do the same.”

Was it manipulative? Possibly, but he was also right. You would have sided with Steve, no question. Doing what you could to help. She thought on it for a few more moments, before she nodded. They were about to leave before Vision broke free. The two men fought, and before she knew it, she was sending the synthezoid several floors down and into the ground. 

She went to her room, quickly packing her suit and anything else she thought she would need. She went back out to meet Clint, about to leave, but she stopped.

“Wait! I gotta see Y/n first.” 

Clint sighed, but knew he couldn’t deny her of this. “Alright, make it quick.”

She booked it to your hospital room. You were lying there, same as you have been for a while. She quickly surged forward grabbed your hand, not bothering to sit. She knew they didn’t have time.

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go out for a bit, okay? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but...I’m going to do what’s right. I’m going to fight. I finally ‘got off my ass’ as you would say.” She chuckled, but it held no real joy behind it. “I just hope you’d be proud of me...and I just hope that I can come back to see you-”

Wanda cut herself off when she felt you begin to move. All of a sudden your face shifted, and you began to turn your head. 

“Y/n?...”

You began to open your eyes slowly, head slowly lifting off your pillow. Your eyes looked around, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. Before you could even look at Wanda though, you began coughing. 

Wanda rushed to poor you a glass of water, knowing your mouth would be dry from not using it for a while. She handed it to you, quickly, and you slowly raised your hand to take it. As you began to drink, Wanda couldn’t help but smile. You were finally awake. She was beyond relieved. She was put in a rough spot now, she knew she had to meet Clint so they could go, but...you were finally awake. She couldn’t leave you.

“Wanda, we gotta go!” She heard Clint yell, and without tearing her eyes away from you, she yelled back.

“In a minute! Y/n just woke up!”

She didn’t hear a response from the man, but she heard footsteps quickly making its way towards your room. 

You finished drinking your water and placed the cup on the bedside table. You began to try to sit up, but Wanda rushed to your side to help.

“Here you go, easy.”

When you fully sat up, you took in the appearance of the woman next to you. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She breathed out. You looked her in the eyes, smile still on both your faces. But, Wanda’s smile dropped instantly at the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Y/n. You probably already knew that though.” You chuckled nervously. “Are you one of the nurses?”

Wanda froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. The doctors told her that Amnesia was a possibility since you hit your head on impact from the blast, but it never seemed like a real threat. She stared at you, jaw slacked for a few more moments.

“Um, hello?...Oh! Are you my doctor? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Wanda snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see it was Clint. You spoke up again before she could say anything though.

“Oh, hey, are you a nurse? Or doctor?”

Realization filled Clint’s face, but he held it together. He simply shook his head.

“Oh...so, is someone supposed to help me or...?” You trailed off. 

Clint looked to Wanda, who was still in shock, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He knew he had to take over, get them out as soon as possible. “Sorry, Y/n. We’ll get your nurse to come and check on you. Glad to see you’re awake.” Before you could respond, he quickly rushed out of the room, pulling Wanda with him.

Wanda finally let herself break down, and cried in the van. She barely had time to process everything before they picked up a man name Scott and flew to the airport to meet Steve.

Steve broke down the plan and the team went separate ways to suit up and get in position. Except Wanda. Steve was about to go get himself ready, but paused when he saw the witch frozen in place.

“Wanda? You okay?” Wanda simply shook her head and looked up at him, he could see the tears in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Y/n woke up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “She did? That’s great-” He was cut off when Wanda let out a sob. He then put two and two together, something was wrong. “...What was it?”

“She...doesn’t remember anything...doesn’t remember me...”

Steve sighed. He was saddened by the news as well, you and him were very close, both being super soldiers and all. He couldn’t even imagine what Wanda was going through in this moment though, so he put on a brave face. He went over to the witch and wrapped an arm around her. “Y/n is strong...when this is over, we’ll go see her and start-” Steve was cut off again when Wanda shook her head.

“Steve...you and I both know this isn’t gonna end with us just being able to go back...” She looked up at him. He was about to speak up again, when he heard Sam in his ear.

“Cap, Tony and Rhodey are flying in now. You good to go?” 

Steve looked to Wanda, knowing she heard him too since they all had coms. She nodded. “On my way.” He turned to leave, before giving Wanda one last look. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

It wasn’t.

The fight at the airport was beyond tiresome, and they lost. Steve and Bucky got away to handle the other Winter Soldiers, but the rest of the team was captured.

So now here she was, sitting in a cell in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean...with a straight jacket and shock collar on. Wanda couldn’t even be upset about it. She was numb. She’s already lost everything she possibly could. Her parents, her brother, her country, and now...you. She couldn’t bring herself to care whether or not she wasted away in this cell. Maybe she deserved to.

But of course, she couldn’t even have that for long, as Steve broke them out a few days later.

Up on the quinjet with Steve and the rest of the team, she sat alone, staring out the window watching the dark clouds pass by. After a few moments, she felt a presence next to her. She looked over to see who it was. Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asked, looking back out the window. 

“It’s a long story.” She answered. “Steve told me what happened, I...I’m not even sure what to say. I am so sorry Wanda.” Wanda merely nodded, not trusting her voice right now. Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “Y’know...I can pull some strings, the ones I have left anyway. Get Y/n relocated to be with us. I know she doesn’t remember anything right now, but-”

“No.” Wanda cut her off, surprising the redhead.

“Wha...what do you mean ‘no’?”

Wanda had thought about it, she’s thought about it the entire time she was in the Raft. She would love nothing more than to see you again, to hold you and help you on your recovery, but...she couldn’t. She was a wanted fugitive now, and you were only in this predicament because of her...she had to be selfless here. She couldn’t bring you into this life, not when you were missing chunks of your own.

“I mean no.” She said, looking up into Natasha’s eyes, tears pooling in her own. “She’s better off.”

And with that, Wanda got up, walking towards the back of the jet to be alone. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Preparing herself for a new life as a fugitive on the run. And most importantly...

Preparing for a life without you.

[olivyh]

TWST FAMILY HCS PT2) Savanaclaw and Octavinelle

Feel free to tack on your own Hc’s too!!! I love reading what other people think and how their view of the characters and of Twisted Wonderland in general change from person to person!!!

Savanaclaw:

Leona:

-Farena: We already know Leona describes his brother as being carefree and relaxed, but deep under that I think he’s a deeply intelligent man (how can you run a kingdom and be stupid?). He tries his best to make time in his schedule for his wife and child, and even try to get bonding tike with his younger brother (which never works out well). He tries to teach Cheka as much as he can, often giving him little life lessons while they play games. He’s a very kind and straightforward man, often being blunt when he doesn’t mean to. He stands a little taller than Leona, with Orange hair similar to Chekas. He keeps his hair tied out of his face as much as he can.

-Sister-in-law Kingscholar: A strong and confident woman, not afraid to speak her mind when she wants to. She’s blunt and she’d let you know about it. She’s also very kind in her own way, often dragging Leona off and trying to have serious talks with him, which he appreciates but doesn’t show. She adores Cheka and often spoils him without meaning to, and will spoil Leona too (but indirectly in a way similar to Ace’s father’s). Also very intelligent and good at reading people. I think she stands a little shorter than Leona, but she holds herself higher, and he slouches, so it looks as if they’re the same height. She has long yellow hair (again, similar to the ends of Cheka’s) that she often ties back as well.

-Cheka: We already know him, so heres a few Hcs!: He sometimes asks his mother to do his hair the same way as Leona’s, and tries to do everything like him (such as standing like him, trying to deepen his voice to sound like him, throwing sand at various objects in the castle yelling “King’s Roar!!”)

Ruggie:

-Grandma Bucchi: As he said himself, a stern and prideful woman. I think she’d be on the stricter side, having to teach Ruggie how to survive rather than him having to face those hard truths alone. She likely stands a lot shorter, likely 5’0 (sorry to anyone whos that height), than most other beastwomen. She’s a lot physically stronger than she looks, often still trying to pick Ruggie up at his age. She tries to spoil him when she can, trying to make him relax after working and taking over the household chores (which he declines, still cleaning up when she’s not looking- which earns him a smack to the head with a broom). She’s also a prankster, quietly jumping out from corners and scaring Ruggie or one of the other children. I think she feels a lot of regret over seeing Ruggie grow up so fast in the environment that he had, but she’s the proudest grandma ever. Whenever he sends pictures back she boasts to everyone at home (“See that! That’s my grandson’s school! See that there! He plays magift and is one of the best on the team! Look there! He’s got those nice ceremony robes!”), and even boasts about him with what little baby pictures they have (“See him walking at such a young age? Isn’t he so strong?”) Will never stop talking about her grandson, ever.

-Neighborhood kids: I think they’re like little siblings to Ruggie, so I’m adding them. They try to tale over what Ruggie did when he was at home, helping people fix up their houses or entertaining the baby hyenas when their mothers have other things to do. They also leave gifts to Ruggie when he comes back, between little dolls they made, bracelets they thought he’d like, charms, or pretty rocks and leaves. He keeps all of the gifts, no matter how small.

-His mom (bc the poor woman deserves a spot)(Poor meaning unfortunate)(The more i think abt it, both. It means both. Bad time?): I think she looked a lot like him, but with brighter blue eyes than his. She was definitely a prankster at heart, leaving clever traps behind for any poor soul to get stuck in. She was a very hardworker much like her son, taking on any task she could find to help out her mother. I think she’d try to leave as much behind for Ruggie as she could, which would include little notes and scribbles about how she was feeling throughout her pregnancy and how excited she was for him. Ruggie also kept all of those safe and sound, in a small box he keeps in the corner of his room.

(Can you guess who my fav chara is?)

Jack:

-Grandma & Grandpa Howl: A very loving couple, who always make time out of their schedule for their grandchildren, whether it be for school events, emergencies, or if any one of them want to come by and talk. They met when Grandpa Howl got lost and wandered by Grandma Howl’s family’s cabin (which happens to be the one they, and the rest of the family, still live in to this day) and he spent the night. I think they fell in love at first sight :’)

-Mama Howl: A very soft and loving beastwoman who is willing to sacrifice anything for her children. She is often strict, and sometimes a chatterbox, but she always reminds her children to stay safe and that she loves them. She always pats their head or cheek when she walks by, even if she has to reach a little to plant a kiss on Jack’s forehead. I think her hair would be a little darker grey, and she’d definitely be a little more muscular and taller, reaching six ft one when standing straight up. She’d have the same yellow eyes as Jack, and her hair would be cropped shorter due to her still moving around a lot.

-Papa Howl: Very similar to Jack personality and appearance wise. He stands an inch or two shorter than Jack, but is still very muscular due to working around the house and in the woods (chopping wood for the campfire, dragging around tools, carrying three wolf pups at a time in his younger days (only one now wants to be carried, which hurts the poor man’s heart a bit)

-Baby brother Howl: Huffy and a little moody, but a hard worker even if he complains while doing it most of the time. That’s often with his parents, but when he does something with Jack he doesn’t complain a bit. He’s very attached to his older brother, looking up to him for his strength and strong morals. He often compares him to superheroes and star athletes in his mind, but sometimes it slips out, resulting in one very embarrassed wolf boy and another very flattered wolf boy, ignore their wagging tails, it means nothing. I think he stands pretty tall for a preteen, around 5’7-5’8 and growing taller by the day. Same hair and eye color as Jack. Acts like he doesn’t like to play games with his younger sister but will never turn down a game of tag.

-Baby sister Howl: An absolute sweetheart. She just wants the best for her family and will do whatever she can to make what they want happen. Jack is hungry? Good thing she made her special dessert (it’s a poptart with whipped cream messily piled on top with sprinkles and literal sugar cubed wedged in it, but don’t tell her you don’t like it, please she’d actually bawl). Her other older brother is tired? She can get him extra blankets! Mama needs help cleaning? She can mop (she really just throws water on the floor and praises herself for a job well done). Papa need to cut wood? She can- no, she can’t. Please don’t give her an axe. She’ll cheer him from the sidelines with a song she made up just for him instead! She has their mother’s grey hair and father’s dark brown eyes, and loves to do her hair like the princesses she sees on Tv! (Yes, Jack will wear a too-small dress and Tiara if his sister wants to play princess. No, he will not let anyone take pictures.)

Octavinelle:

Tweels:

-Mama Leech: At first glance, a very kind woman with soft eyes. Willing to open her arms to anyone who might need help. Then, a terrifying grin similar to Floyd’s as that poor unfortunate soul realizes the trap they’d been thrown in. She’s very kind and patient towards both her boys and husband, as well as their friends (even of she is on guard near their friends, throwing a few hollow threats to see if it’d scare them away)(She doesn’t like to share her babies). She dotes on the tweels as much as possible, indulging im whatever curiosity they may have. Floyd wants to know what going through riptide is like? They leave tomorrow to find one. Jade wants to know more about life on land? She’ll find as many books as possible and ask (threaten) people for their land belongings. She knows when too far is too far though, and is very skilled at reeling the boys back in if they get to that point. Will always call them her little guppies, no matter how big they get. I think she’d have a teal bob on top, with the underside of her hair being black (which makes her hair look color changing when she swims). Im her human form shes only a few inches shorter than her boys, ranging around the same as Jack’s mother.

-Papa Leech: The definition of old Hollywood New York mob boss. Strict and blunt about his interests and problems, and not afraid to cause any problems if provoked. When the tweels were younger and they’d wrestle and bite at him, he’d throw them off him easily, telling them they need to work to beat him, even if he was impressed by their teamwork at first. Will die to protect his family, and was likely put in that position many times in the past due to his uh… business. He values his wife and children more than anything, and has done everything in his power in the past to protect them from harm. When they went to NRC at first, he felt defeated and almost wanted to beg them to stay safe with him (not that his pride would allow it).(Both the tweels can see through his facade easily)

Azul:

-Grandma ‘grotto: A very stern and prim octomermaid. What she says goes in the Ashengrotto house, and she often catches herself making unnecessary comments. She does apologize. Also a very loving grandmother towards Azul, often babying him whenever possible (doing the classic “you’re not eating enough here take some more” grandma move)(She will smooch his face whenever possible when there are no business clients nearby). Tries to boost his confidence since she knew about what was happening to him (Chances are she went through the same thing- being an octomer as well) and dod her best to protect him and make him happy. She taught him how to write with his tentacles and encouraged him to do his best in everything he does.

-Mama ‘grotto: Another businesslady in the front absolute softie in the back situation. Adores her son and is incredibly proud of how far he’s come.I think she looks identical to Azul, but more heavyset and, of course, female. She coddled Azul as much as possible, which worked out well with baby Azul’s clingy nature. She had no shame in walking around with the little guy stuck to her (unless he smacked a tentacle to her face when she was working on her restaurant), and made sure everyone knew what a good boy he was. She would show pictures to everyone (similar to Ruggie’s grandma), but respects his wishes in wanting to hide pictures of his past. She still shows anyone who asks pictures of him at NRC (compliments to the twins, who send her updates when her son is busy), and will tell everyone how smart he is and how much he’s grown.

-Step-Papa grotto: A very professional man in every aspect of his life, which stretches to his relationship with his stepson. When he learns about the contracts and Azuls UM, he’s over the moon with how happy he is. He swam around with a little more pep than usual, flicking his tail and flaring out his fins the more and more Azul told him. He helps him reword and format his contracts to his advantage, and is always willing to talk with him about Mostro Lounge or (on rare occasion) some memories before Step papa Ashengrotto met Mama Ashengrotto (which always make him happy that Azul trusts him enough). I think he’d be a pretty generic looking Mer, with an average looking tail and such

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Break.

Request by @lucywrites02 (If you find some time could you write a fic about reader being really stressed about their exams and Loki saying something mean and then they break down and Loki has no idea what's happening but then tries to help the reader? It can be a headcanon or a one shot)

N/A: It do be like that sometimes. Unfortunately I think we can all relate to this state of mind. Hope this helps alliviate the tension a bit. Remember to take care of yourself; health is more important than grades.

Warnings: anxious thoughts, mentions of suicide attempt (the Bifrost thing from Loki), angst. Happy ending.

Word count: 2.3 K

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

You organized your folders once again, hoping the cleaner desk would give you some motivation to keep going. It didn’t, but you stayed. Your stomach growled and it hinted you to look at the clock. Oh, no. Five in the morning? But you barely started. You still had so many things to do before dawn.

You got up and stretched your legs and back. Your eyelids, heavier than ever, were not helping at all. Your mind was still everywhere, and you had to keep your head distracted to not think in the thousand things you still couldn’t get done. The mere thought of that made you shiver, almost throwing you into a spiral of anxious thoughts. You shook your head off and walked to the bathroom. Splashing some cold water in your face, you stood in front of the mirror. Eyebags that made you more similar to a racoon gave you the idea of making some more coffee. At that time you'd already forgotten you were going to get some food; your head was so full it couldn't even retain basic information.

As silently as you could, you walked down to the kitchen of the compound. You brought your books with yourself. Couldn’t waste some other five or ten minutes, couldn’t you? Filling the kettle and putting it on the fire, you got distracted watching the shapes of the fire.

“Zoned out?”, inquired Loki behind you. You jumped, frightened.

“What are you doing up so early?”, you asked.

“What are you doing up so late?”. You pointed at the books and he nodded. “You’re still with those things”.

“Want some coffee?”.

“No, thanks. I think I’m gonna try to sleep on the couch”.

He moved to the living room area and opened a book, laying down on the nearest couch. It all looked so cozy, so comfortable. You redirected your gaze to your cup of coffee and academic books, waiting for you to fry your head a little (a lot) more. Oh, how much you would’ve loved to take a break, sit in there with a fiction book and a warm mug of hot cocoa, wrapped up in… no. Don’t do this. Don’t torture yourself like that.

You probably shouldn’t have been drinking coffee. Your heart was already going abnormally fast, product and cause of the anxiety you were accumulating. But you did, trying to get your eyes opened. The table you settled in was confronting the living room area, and Loki observed you read and write incessantly in those big piles of books and papers.

You didn’t hear his footsteps. Out of nowhere he appeared behind you, reading the pages that were troubling you so much. You jumped once again. He was distracting you, you were tired and stressed, and, as if it weren’t enough, your heart was going to explode with all those frightens he was giving you.

“Are you going on the next…?”.

“Loki, I can’t give you attention right now”, you cut him off as kindly as you could. Your voice was slightly broken, so you swallowed and hid it. You two weren’t close enough to actually explain to him you were about to drown if you kept getting distracted from the assignments.

“I don’t need your attention”, he scoffed, slightly offended. “Not a puppy you have to play with”.

“Alright. Can you leave?”.

He sighed and went back to the couch. After about half an hour, your head fell to the pages and gave your brain the pause it so hardly needed. About an hour later, everyone on the compound was up and having breakfast around you, waking you up with the noises.

“Y/n, what are you doing sleeping in here?”, asked Thor. “What are all those things you have in there?”.

“Those things, brother, are books. They are for reading and gaining knowledge, I’m certain you haven’t heard of them before”, mocked Loki, gaining a chuckle from you. “It’s not like you seem to be gaining much either, though”, told you, referring to your nap.

“I was exhausted, but I’m...”.

“Mortals are such weakies”, he said, getting up and serving himself a cup of tea. “They read three pages and already get tired of using their little brains”.

You knew he was kidding, for he had told you many times before he considered you one of the brightest youngsters he had ever encountered. But you couldn’t look at the big picture right now. Your head was still overwhelmingly loud with fears, tiredness, stress. The only sight of that pile of books made you shiver, realizing how little time you had to study. And Loki was right. You felt yourself so stupid, so weak. No matter how hard you worked and overworked yourself, you couldn’t get the damn things done right.

A knot in your throat gave you the hint to leave. The last thing you needed was to cry in front of them. You went back to your room, not without another cup of coffee before. So, you grabbed your things as fast as you could and ran to the kitchen. You hadn’t noticed Loki had followed you, thinking it was alright to mock; play around. You weren’t exactly friends, but enjoyed each other’s teasing every once in a while. He thought it’d cheer you up, or make you laugh.

“Hey”, he said behind you, and you jumped once again, dropping your mug to the floor. It got smashed to pieces. “Oh, what a clumsy little human”. You chuckled at his comment, containing a sob. He read it as if it was alright to keep teasing you, so he did. “I’d say you’re dumb because of not sleeping, but you generally just are like this”.

You didn’t answer, but your heart ached. You weren’t in the mood for his tough-love, so you rolled your eyes, sighed, and tried to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic. He didn't look satisfied with your silence. You'd usually insult him back, and laugh together.

“Your hair’s gross. Have you showered at all?” he said once again, touching the tip of one strand of your hair. You haven’t, you didn’t have time. You didn’t answer, and instead blushed. “Careful, don’t touch that sink, you might get a reaction”.

“What?”.

“Since you’re allergic to water”.

“Out of all the mean things you can say you go for my poor hygiene?”.

“Would you like me to stop insulting your appearance and instead go for anything else? I have a long list”.

“Just… leave me alone”.

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna keep trying to understand what you so clearly can’t?”, he said while you were leaving with all your stuff, and you stood in place, facing the door. You were so, so glad you were backwards, because then he would’ve seen you tear up.

He was joking, he was just playing around. But going for that just in your worst moments? That was plain mean. You shook your head, he didn’t know, you’ve never said a thing about your stress, and he didn’t see how overworked and overwhelmed you were. He didn't know that was one of your biggest insecurities.

“I’d say you give up already. There are certain things dummies like you simply can’t achieve”, he continued. He had no idea, so he just kept going, hoping to get a reaction. A laugh, a chuckle or a “fuck you”. Even a punch. Any of the reactions he would usually get from you. But he didn’t expect what followed, at all.

You sobbed. One sob, just sharp and loud enough for him to have heard it. He stopped dead on his tracks. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t move either. He saw how you tilted your head, facing the floor, and dropped a tear. He immediately walked to you and grabbed both of your hands, facing you.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of those things, dear”, he softened his voice. “I was just joking around”.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, it’s just that I’m very stressed”, was what you tried to say. Instead, your sobs turned into a full blown cry. Your face went red from embarrassment, and anger, and stress, and tiredness, and it all just became too much for you to bear alone. Loki sensed it and hugged you tightly, pressing your head against his chest and hushing you tenderly.

“What happened? Is someone ill?”, he whispered, and you felt even more stupid, because you were crying over grades and papers. Not real things, like you used to think to diminish your stress and pack up all your feelings in a tiny bottle. But the tiny bottle became too tiny for your big feelings, and it finally exploded. You still couldn’t talk. Tears running down your face, you were hugging Loki back, hiding your face on him.

“Nobody’s ill, don’t worry”, you managed to say after a while. He nodded.

“I worry about you. Come, let me get you comfortable”, he said in your ear, and lifted you up carefully. You chuckled in between sobs. An emotional roller coaster. He carried you to his bedroom (and ignored the weird looks and stares from everyone else, because, let’s be honest; that was an unusual sight), and made you sit in his bed, wrapping you up in a weighted blanket (oh, you loved those).

He left for less than a minute and came back with a steaming cup of tea, some chocolate, and a few CDs. He sat in the bed by your side and gave you the cup. You wiped some tears away, and with trembling hands left the tea carefully over the bedside table and went for another hug. He wrapped himself around you, as a second blanket, and caressed your hair and neck with his cold fingers until your sobs stopped and you finally calmed down.

After a while, he cupped your face and looked at you very closely. Too close, even. Gave you a comforting look, with a warmth on his eyes you have never seen on anyone before.

“Better?”, he whispered.

“A bit, yeah”.

“Want to talk it out? Movie marathon? Chocolate?”.

You smiled and blushed a bit, again.

“Sorry, I’m just… really stressed. I thought I could manage better, but… this is just not it”.

“School?”.

“You must think I’m an idiot”.

“No way”, he assured you, frowning. “You know what I think of you. You’re incredibly smart”.

“I’m not, I’m doing so poorly on my exams and assignments, and…” you tried to explain, and the overwhelming weight of everything fell on your chest again. Your eyes watered.

“You’re overworking yourself too much, darling. You need to take a day off, or two”.

“I have no time, I won’t get anything done”.

“Well, you certainly won’t get anything done in this breakdown state of mind”, he said as tenderly as he could. He was right, and you sighed. You started fidgeting nervously with your fingers, tearing your cuticles. Almost as a reflex act, he grabbed your hands and caressed them so you would stop hurting them. “You humans run around the entirety of your lives. You spend it all running, speeding, not taking time to feel enough, to be rested and fulfilled enough”, he started saying, rocking you back and forth “you think you don’t have enough time, but for what?”.

“To do all the things I want”.

“And those are…? Careers to do? Places to visit? They all come to the same thing, love”.

“Feeling well?”.

“Yes”, he nodded. Your throat tightened once again, but this time out of relief. You really needed to hear this. “If you feel well doing these things, you won’t feel you’re wasting time once you finally rest. I’ve lived a thousand years. Do you think I always wanted to spend my life doing the same things?”.

“Well, no”.

“But it all came to the same thing when I thought I died”.

“You... what?”.

“I was on the Bifrost, about to fall. I wanted to feel good, to feel accepted, to feel loved by the people I loved”.

“It’s all we want at the end. I guess I overwork myself to make them proud”.

“I did too. And at the end, even when I tried my hardest, I couldn’t make them proud”.

“Oh God”, you said. He was still hugging and caressing you, as if the story he was telling didn’t affect him anymore. “And you…”.

“I threw myself off it”, he stated. You stopped and looked at him.

“Oh”.

“But”, he brought back to your hands the cup of tea “I survived. Even then, I kept thinking through the fogged lenses of doing something big for a future purpose, not paying any mind to my actual motivations”.

“How do you feel now?”.

“You know, if I wouldn’t have survived, I wouldn’t taste this amazing cup of tea” he said, sipping a bit from the cup still in your hands and bringing it to his cheek, warming him up. “And I wouldn’t be able to watch all these movies with you. And I would’ve missed all the Midgardians books I’ve read on Earth. And I wouldn’t have met anyone on here. And maybe, even looking closer, I wouldn’t have pushed all your buttons to break down so you would still be bottling up your stress and maybe even have had a heart attack and died unhappy and unfulfilled”.

“Wow there”. You both laughed. You rested your head on his lap and he watched you with a glimpse of a smile.

“What I’m trying to say is, take it one step at a time. Look at the big picture. Enjoy the process. All those things you midgardians say so often, they have almost lost all meaning. They sound cliché. They shouldn’t; for they are very true”.

“Thank you, Loki”, you sighed and started braiding one strand of his hair.

“Now go take a bath or something, stinky”. You both laughed. It was all fine.

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Love Story

For the anon who asked : i don’t know if you like ts but with her releasing a new version of “love story” it’d be so cute to see how you’d write a fic about the song 🥺 maybe malfoy reader x harry ?? i think that’d be a good fit

Harry Potter x Malfoy!Reader

We were both young when I first saw you

I close my eyes and the flashback starts

“The name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and this is my sister, Y/N Malfoy,” The pale blonde boy extended his hand to Harry, and he neglected to take it, but he couldn’t help but to look at the pretty girl behind him, who seemed annoyed by her brother antics. “You must be a Weasley,” He sneered at Harry’s new friend, “Red hair, and hand-me-down robes.” The girl rolled her eyes, tugging her brother by the back of his cloak. 

“Knock it off, Draco,” She warned, and he glared at her before turning to Harry again. 

“You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter,” Harry glanced at the girl again, and she met his eye, smiling slightly from behind her brother. He lifted one corner of his lips in response, and Draco glanced from him to his sister over his shoulder before glaring at Harry again, “You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort.” 

“I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” Harry responded, ignoring the outstretched hand again. He glanced at the girl again who was smirking, eyes twinkling in the candlelight. 

“That went well,” She laughed as her brother turned back to her and the other kids they were standing with. 

“Shut up, Y/N,” When you laughed, Harry couldn’t help but to smile slightly himself, you had a nice laugh, how you were related to that goon he would never know. And it was a question he would continue to ask himself time after time as the years passed and Draco became even more of a git and you became.. Well.. even more wonderful in Harry’s eyes. 

See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns

See you make your way through the crowd

And say, "Hello"

Harry sat dejectedly alone on the outskirts of the Yule Ball, playing with the hem of his dressing gown. He wouldn’t have come if he didn’t have to, and now his date had ditched him. In her defense, he was a lousy date. He didn’t want to dance, and he wasn’t in a very fun mood. Then he saw you, and his heart nearly fell out of his chest. You looked beautiful, and the crowd seemed to part for you as you walked. Not walked, glided. Your dress was stunning, all sparkles and flowy, you looked angelic. And you were coming towards him. 

“Hello, Harry,” You greeted him, you cheeks were flushed from dancing and laughing, and he found himself wishing he was the one to make you laugh. 

“H-Hello, Y/N.” 

“Alright?” You asked, sitting in the empty chair beside him. You had spoken over the years at Hogwarts, you had too, it was a small school and you had plenty of classes together. But you had never sought him out for a conversation before. He opened his mouth a few times before shrugging his shoulders, looking down at his feet. 

“Alright,” He assured, “Balls aren’t really my thing, I suppose.” You nodded understandingly, smiling at him and he felt his cheeks heat up and his hands went clammy. 

“I understand, they’re usually rotten. My mother throws a lot of them, but this is actually fun.” You assured, “You should dance,” Harry blushed deeper and shook his head, pushing his glasses up on his nose when they slid down. 

“I’m not a dancer,” You laughed and he smiled softly. You were so beautiful when you laughed. How you and Malfoy were related was beyond him. 

“Suit yourself,” You grinned, getting up from the seat beside him. He wanted to say something witty, something that would make you want to stay and talk to him, but nothing came out. “See you around, Harry,” And like that you were gone, walking on clouds back towards the dancefloor, and Harry was alone again with his thoughts. 

After that night though, things were slightly different. When you saw him you would smile, and say hello to him, even sometimes in front of your brother, and Harry would say hello back. You talked more, even if it was just small talk during classes or when you passed each other in the corridor. But Harry treasured those moments more than he cared to admit. 

That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

“I heard you’ve made a friend,” Your father sneered, eyes not lifting from the Daily Prophet. You glanced at your brother who had the decency to look down at his lap. 

“Who?” You asked, playing dumb, but you knew who he was talking about. 

“Potter,” You father spat out, glancing at you from above the paper, “I don’t want you anywhere near that boy,” 

“We’re hardly friends, father,” You rolled your eyes when he went back to reading and shot a dirty look Draco’s way. 

“I don’t care what you call it. I don’t want you having anything to do with Harry Potter, that is an order.” You got up from the table, leaving your dinner untouched as you marched past your family towards the stairs, mumbling under your breath. “What was that?” Your father called after you but you kept walking. He couldn’t tell you what to do. 

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

You cornered Harry in the corridor one day after class, hands on your hips. He looked at you worriedly. 

“Yes?” 

“I want to join Dumbledore’s Army.” You stated, hands still firmly on your hips. His eyes widened. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Cut the crap,” You rolled your eyes, “Everyone has heard the rumors. I want to join.” He looked at you sketically. 

“Why?” You blinked a few times and your hands dropped from your hips, but you maintained eye contact with the boy. 

“Same reason you started it, I want to be prepared. I know.. I know he’s back.” Harry looked at you nervously, “And I need to do my part.” He considered your words for a moment. He could tell you were genuine, he just knew.

“Can I show you something?” You nodded your head and Harry turned, walking down the corridor, and you followed him. He led you to the 5th floor and to an empty expanse of stone wall. You both stopped walking and you looked up at Harry raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You wanted to show me, a wall?” You asked and the boy chuckled. 

“No, well, yes, but watch.” So you watched, and suddenly a door materialized in front of you. You let out a gasp, stepping back in surprise, Harry smiled at you before stepping forward and opening the door, gesturing for you to go inside. Once you did you were met with a grand room, there was an area for practicing spells and a giant fireplace on the far wall, closer to you was a board with spells and tactics written out, along with a picture. You stepped up to the board and looked it over, they were learning some advanced magic. Harry stepped up beside you as you kept looking it over. You got to the picture and glanced at him. 

“Who are they?” You asked quietly.

“They called themselves the Order of the Phoenix.” He explained, pointing to two people in the picture, “My parents, and a bunch of other wizards banded together in order to fight Voldemort in the first war.” You winced at the name but nodded, taking a closer look at the picture. 

“And now you’re following in their footsteps.” He shrugged slightly and you smiled up at the boy, “They would be proud Harry.” 

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

So close your eyes

Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

Hiding the DA meetings from Draco was easier than you thought it would be, mostly because he was so caught up in his own troubles. Namely, finding the DA for Umbridge. He didn’t even notice you were barely around anymore. 

You received an owl one evening while you were reading in your dormroom, and you let the bird in, taking the rolled up parchment from it’s foot before letting it out again. 

Meet me at the Quidditch Pitch, 12am. 

Harry

You smiled at the note, tucking it into the book and checking the time. Only ten. You and Harry had been spending a lot of time together in secret, away from your brother’s prying eyes. You were becoming close, and when you were around him you felt safe and seen for the first time in your life. 

Once all your dormmates were asleep, you got dressed in silence and snuck out of the room, down through the common room, and through the castle. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked through the dark grounds in the direction of the pitch. You finally got there and looked around for the boy in question. 

“Y/N, over here!” He called in a loud whisper and you turned your head, seeing him sitting under the seats of the pitch. You smiled and went to him, plopping down beside him. 

“Hiya, Harry,” You greeted him, shivering slightly, he looked you over before shrugging his cloak off, handing it over to you, “Oh, you don’t have to do that, you’ll get cold.” You argued, but he insisted so you took it, wrapping it around yourself. “What’s up?” 

“I just missed you, I wanted to see you,” He admitted and you felt your cheeks go rosy, you hoped he wouldn’t notice with the cold. 

“I’ve missed you too,” You admitted, smiling softly. Harry fidgeted nervously before leaning over to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You blushed deeper and looked down at your lap. 

“I wanted to tell you something,” He spoke gently and you glanced up again. 

“Yes?” 

“Y/N,” He started, messing up his own locks, “I just.. I really like you, is all.” He looked down again, “Sorry if that makes things weird.” You sat for a moment and let his words sink in before you leaned over, placing a small kiss on Harry’s cheek. You watched him go beet red and you chuckled. 

“I like you too, Harry.” You admitted, and he grinned at you, you grinned back. 

“Brilliant.. That’s brilliant.” 

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

But you were everything to me

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go,"

It all happened so fast. They found the Room of Requirements, and you were all to be punished. Your brother wasn’t speaking to you, your father would know soon enough. You feared having to go home to him, to his punishments. Then Harry saw Sirius, trapped inside the ministry- he needed help. 

“You’re not going alone,” You argued, following him as the boy stormed off, “Harry, you’re not going alone!” 

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but Malfoy is right, mate, you aren’t going there alone.” Ron chimed in, half a step behind you. Harry stopped, turning to look at your motley crew. You, Hermione, Ron, Nevile, Ginny, and Luna stood there, looking determined. 

“And you aren’t coming with me!” 

“Harry,” Hermione reasoned, “This is why we’ve been training, we are your friends, we’re coming to help you.” Harry gave a small nod and your future was set in stone. Hours later you found yourself deep in the ministry of magic, surrounded by crystal balls full of prophecies. Suddenly you were surrounded by death eaters, it was a trap. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice asked from behind a mask and you flinched, stepping back.

“Father?” 

“Malfoy?” Harry asked, glancing worriedly at you then to the man in the mask, his wand raised. 

“Child, come here. Now.” He ordered. 

“No,” You stepped back further, heart thudding out of your chest.

“I said, come here, you insolent little girl.” He reached a hand towards you and you twisted away from him. 

“I said no!” You threw a curse in his general direction and the mask was knocked from his face, and you were forced to stare into the eyes of your father. 

“If you do not come here right now you are never welcome back into my house again, do you understand me?” There was no warmth behind those cold eyes, there was nothing. 

“Go to hell,” 

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel

This love is difficult, but it's real

Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

You didn’t go home that summer, true to your word. Your brother didn’t even look at you when you returned for school the next year. You had spent the summer with the Weasleys, something you never imagined you would do. But they were good to you, much better than your own family had ever been. But Harry was distant, and you tried to be understanding, you knew he was going through a lot with the loss of his godfather. 

You talked to Hermione a lot that year, ostracised by your own house. And you found some solace in the fact that he was being distant with them as well, it wasn’t just you. Slowly he came around. You did your best to be there for him, to be whatever he needed. A shoulder to cry on, someone to make him laugh, whatever he needed. You spent more and more time in their common room, and less and less time plagued by dirty looks in your own. 

You worried about your brother, you could see he was struggling, but everytime you even attempted to reach out to him you were brushed off. A war was looming over each and every one of your heads and it came closer everyday. It all came to a crashing catalyst at the end of the year, when Dumbledore was murdered and rumors flew that your brother had a hand in it. 

You went home with Harry and the Weasleys again that summer, trying to leave some of the worry behind, but you couldn’t. One night you sat outside, late, by yourself, trying to collect your thoughts when the backdoor opened and Harry stepped outside. 

“Hey,”

“Hey,” You whispered, scooting over on the bench to give him some room to sit. 

“Alright?” You shrugged, looking ahead into the darkness. 

“I don’t know,” You admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself. Harry watched you for a moment before sighing and adjusting his glasses. 

“I’m sorry,” You looked over at him confused. 

“For what?”

“For everything. I got you into this,” You shook your head smiling softly. 

“I got myself into this.” You corrected, “And I wouldn’t change it for anything. I know I am doing the right thing.” Harry nodded and reached over, taking your hand in his. 

“Even if it cost you your family?” 

“Yes.” You nodded, squeezing his hand in yours, “I’m not like them Harry, I never could be. I... I miss Draco. Little Draco. The young boy who was full of life. That boy... the boy he is now isn’t my brother. My father has brainwashed him beyond repair. And I mourn for him, but there is nothing I can do besides keep fighting.” Harry leaned over and kissed your temple. 

“I love you,” He breathed, “You’re the bravest woman I know.” 

“I love you too, Harry.” 

I got tired of waiting

Wonderin' if you were ever comin' around

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town

Months passed, and you felt like you were no closer to your goal. Ron was gone, Hermione wouldn’t admit it but she was falling to pieces, and Harry barely spoke anymore. You felt like you were failing him, failing everyone. He barely looked at you anymore and that was hard considering you were trapped together in a tiny tent, traveling from hiding spot to hiding spot. 

One night you approached him, with your concerns and he exploded. 

“Then leave!” He cried out and you flinched. 

“I didn’t say I wanted to leave!” You argued back. 

“I don’t want to do this with you, Y/N, if you can’t handle it, then go.” 

“I am not leaving you, Harry!” 

“Go back home to your death eater family!” 

“You’re a twat!” 

“I should have never let you join Dumbledore’s Army!” You knew he was lashing out because he was hurt, but it didn’t make you hurt any less. You felt tears in your eyes. 

“I am not leaving you.” You spat at him, “I don’t care what hurtful things you say to me, I love you, you don’t leave the people you love.” His face softened slightly but he turned from you. 

“I need some air.” He left the tent and you glanced over to Hermione who shrugged helplessly. Helpless. That about summed it all up. 

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

I love you and that's all I really know

Just like that the war was over. You stood and counted your dead. You had to watch as your brother walked away from you once again, into your parents arms. There was no hug or glance for you. You stood in the Great Hall, arms wrapped around yourself as the tears flowed freely. It was over, but at what cost? 

“Y/N?” You turned and looked at Harry, seeing his own eyes red and puffy. 

“Harry.” You greeted him, offering him a hand which he took, coming to stand beside you. You stood in silence for a while, looking around at all you had lost. 

“Y/N?” He repeated your name, and you turned to look up at him, he looked down at you, eyes side, but his lips tugged slightly at a smile. “I didn’t really plan on doing this right now, I thought it would be much more... romantic.” 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brow. Harry fished around in his pocket for a moment before producing something. It was a simple silver ring. 

“I’ll get you something nicer when we have the time,” 

“Oh..” You whispered, free hand going to your mouth. 

“I want to be yours. Forever.” He knelt down in front of you, and the hushed voices around you lapsed into silence. “I want you to marry me, we almost lost each other today, and I can’t wait another moment. I need good to come from today, and this is the best thing in the world to me. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” You whispered, nodding your head, “Harry yes, of course,” He stood up and pulled you into a tight hug, there was some clapping, more crying, more hugging from everyone. It might not have been the perfect love story, but it was yours. And that made it perfect to you.

[mae-gi-writes]

My Heart Beats | Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Synopsis:

You're dying, all because of the love that Seo Changbin has for someone else.

Genre: hanahaki au! Lots of angst, little fluff, Chan is a good wingman. Happy ending! 

----

There was a lot of coughing, at first.

You weren't exactly sure why your throat scratched so badly that it burned like it was on fire, only downed a few cough drops with the hope that it'd go away after a few days. You told yourself that maybe if you waited it out long enough, it would go away by itself and you wouldn't spend nights lying in bed, practically curling in on yourself as you tried to keep the coughing to a minimum.

It didn't get better.

Of course, the first few times you'd cough into your sleeve, your close friend and classmate Changbin would ask you if you were sick -- with that disgruntled frown that only you could decipher as concern -- but you had merely shaken your head then before batting away his worries with a brush of your fingers.

It had escaped your notice, how your throat clamped up whenever he was close by, how you would suddenly erupt whenever he would play with your hair or brush some dust off your shoulder.

"Seriously Y/N, go see a doctor or something," he said one day after your Photograohy seminar where you had spent three quarters of it muffling your coughs. That had garnered you numerous dirty looks from your classmates, "maybe you're developing an allergy."

"It doesn't come all the time," you replied breathlessly while plastering a smile on your face.

He wasn't convinced.

And then, when you stumbled upon him in the cafeteria sitting across from a girl you'd seldom met before, that had been the last straw.

You had barely managed to make it to the toilet, hand cupped against your mouth and running like your life depended on it, stumbling into the nearest stall to empty the contents of your stomach.

Only, it wasn't.

You watched, horrified, as blood poured out of your mouth like a gushing waterfall filled with bits and pieces of broken branches, plant stems, petals. You couldn't tear your eyes away from it no matter how much you tried, chest heaving and breaths ragged as you gazed at the mess in the toilet bowl with the slow realization sinking into you.

Hanahaki.

You were dying. You were dying because plants were now growing into your heart, taking over your lungs and your body.

That was when you got a second realization:

That you were in love with Seo Changbin. And he was clearly in love with someone else. 

------

"Long time no see.” 

You jolted from your seat, head whipping up and partly expecting to see the said raven-haired man that you had been avoiding most week to be standing there with a scowl on his face. Instead, you were genuinely surprised to find one of his closest friends instead. 

Chan looked down at you with furrowed brows and from the way his eyes skimmed over your features, you guessed he was seeing the side effects of the hanahaki just as much as you were, “jesus, Y/N. Are you sick or something?” 

“Bad cold,” you faked a laugh, quickly scrambling to cover the book title currently spread open for him to see, but Chan hd quick reflexes, arm sneaking underneath yours to yank the said book out of your arms and ignoring your protests. 

He read the title once, twice. Flipped a few pages, frown growing so deep on his face that his eyebrows were practically kissing at the centre, and you were about to make a joke out of it -- to make light of the situation -- when his eyes snapped back up to you. And what you saw in them caused all jokes to die upon your tongue.

“What is this, Y/N?” 

You tried to ignore the shakiness in his alto, or the emotion blazing through his dark irises. Your chest hurt with that same familiar ache you had grown accustomed to over the days, causing you to look away as you murmured out your reply: 

"What it says it is.” 

It was useless to lie. Chan was sharp. There’d be no use lying to him.

He sucked in a breath and you quickly scrambled out, “don’t tell Changbin.” 

Brown orbs boring into yours for a few seconds too long, you forced yourself to return his gaze with a pleading look of your own, and it seemed like he figured it out for himself for he merely dropped his eyes before looking away. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he murmured, “It’s Changbin.” 

Your head bowed. Your silence said everything. His breath hitched, grasping your shoulder so that you turned to face the wetness of his eyes as tears brimmed at the corners, “stop it. You can stop it right? There’s got to be a cure for that now.” 

Oh, how it would be wonderful to believe there was even a cure. But the only solution was surgery and even that came with its risks. Plus, extracting the hanahaki from your heart meant to erase Changbin altogether from your life and as much as it killed you literally to be existing in this state every single day, you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving behind all the memories that you and Changbin had built together. 

Thankfully, Chan wasn’t forceful in his argument when you pleaded that you felt more comfortable dealing with this alone. He did, however, constantly check up on you on days where you looked especially gaunt, when the pouches under your eyes were so blue he feared that they would swallow up your whole face, or when he noticed how you left your lunch untouched, opting to sip silently on your soy milk instead. 

“Who is she?” You had asked once, your soprano barely above a raspy whisper, as your eyes trailed over Changbin’s figure leaning in towards what the girl was saying. 

“Her name’s Yoreum,” Chan had mumbled through mouthfuls of his meat sandwich, “apparently she’s a transfer student from Japan, and very interested in Changbin.” 

“Good for him, I guess,” you mumbled. 

A minute later, you excused yourself to the bathroom, palm halting the trickle of blood from your lips.

You weren’t exactly certain how this disease worked. Was it due to your inner feelings? Or did it depend on Changbin’s? Or both? The books you read had told you endless tales of varying consequences and different situations, which didn’t help the matter in the least. In fact, it left you even more in the dark, if that was possible. 

You knew that it would be impossible to avoid Seo Changbin forever for once he set his mind to something, it was a force not to be reckoned with. You had kept up a stream of excuses about being sickly and that it was exams season. But all your efforts were futile after a few weeks when you spotted the said man standing at the front of your apartment complex, tapping his feet to keep the coldness of spring at bay. 

You had half a mind to run away, drop everything and just make a dash for it. But Changbin spotted you before you could do anything and he closed the gap between you two in less than three strides, quickly encapsulating you in a hug. 

Your breath hitched. The itch was back, your throat tingling like crazy. You paused for a few seconds and allowed his scent to overwhelm you, before pushing him away to cough into your sleeve. 

“Damn Y/N. Chan was right. You really are sick.” 

"Wha--" you tried to force the itch down your throat, "are you doing--"

Your body jerked as you felt it give way to the pain that twisted your torso in two and you turned away just in time to clamp a hane over your mouth as you coughed like there was no tomorrow.

Warm liquid splattered over your palm. The metallic stench of blood filled your nostrils.

"Y/N," Changbin made a move towards you, "are you--"

Holding up a hand, you felt him halt as another round of coughs ripped through your already-dry throat. You didn't realize that your legs gave out at some point until a pair of hands quickly grasped the back of your elbows, and though you wished to push him away, pain rippled through your body as you all but collapsed to the floor, blood and branches and petals splattering onto the ground.

You didn't have to look at his face to know that his body was tensed in shock, frozen as he took in the sight before him. Scrambling for words, they all died at the back of your throat when you glanced over at his clenched jaw, the slow reality that blooms through his dark pupils. 

Silence filled the air.

“What--” he choked up, “is this?” 

You opened your mouth to answer, closed it when you couldn’t find anything. Before you, Changbin’s fists curled, clenching at his sides as he surveyed the mess of blood and dried up flowers. 

"Tell me this is not what I think it is,” he whispered. 

Still, you said nothing.

“Tell me!” He bellowed. 

“Changbin, I--” another round of coughs made your body twist on itself as you struggled to answer him, maybe lie through your teeth even though it was too late, “I can explain--” 

“Explain what?! That you’re dying?!” he swivelled around with barely restrained anger and that made you flinch back, “you kept this from me?! Why?! Tell me Y/N--” 

But his shouts were drowned out by your endless coughing and heaving, leaning forward to choke out a few petals dripping with fresh blood onto the ground. Your mind was swirling with excuses, trying to come up with the stupidest reasons as to why your body was behaving this way and maybe telling him that it was all due to someone else who couldn’t love you back. But the more you tried to fight the urge to throw up, the more you kept on gagging on your own blood. 

Arms came around your middle to lift you up, Changbin’s scent surrounding your figure as he managed to haul you to your feet and half-carry you inside your flat. It wasn’t until your body was laid down on the couch that you managed to utter out a soft “thank you”, which sounded more like an apology than anything else.

Changbin grunted, momentarily going out of your peripheral and returning with a sac plastic, in case you had anything more to cough out, which warmed your heart despite the cold harsh truth lingering before your very eyes. A truth that you knew had to be verbalized, sooner or later.

“Who is it?” 

His question caught you off-guard. Glancing up, your throat constricted at the way he gazed back at you, eyes dark and glossy with emotion.

Dropping your head to the floor, you mumble out something incoherent. You wished he could drop it.

“Who is it?” he growled.

Your jaw clenched. There was no escaping him, nothing could salvage the situation. So you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, before finally looking up at the raven-haired man sitting opposite you. 

“It’s you.” 

His anger dissolved into shock. He stared you down, mouth parted, for a few seconds.

When he spoke next, his words were barely above a murmur, “what?” 

He was staring at you as if you had just grown out a second head. But as much as you felt like flinching away, you kept your eyes steady, even when they welled up with tears, even when they burned from the way you caught sight of his expression slowly crumbling as the realization sank into his bones.

“You’re joking,” he whispered mostly to himself as he shook his head, “no. It’s not--What? It can’t be me, unless--”

“I love you.” 

His eyes snapped back to you and your breath stilled in your throat. The buzzing silence in the air twisted, thick with tension and from the remnants of your words that echoed in the distance between your bodies.

“But--” Changbin opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. His frown deepened and his silence conveyed the inner conflict going on through his brain as you sat there with your world crumbling apart, wishing that he didn’t leave you for the last few days of your existence. 

You’d be gone all too soon. And then, and then life would go on. Changbin would go on. After all, he deserved to be loved by someone whom his heart desired. 

“I love you,” you repeated, the words breaking against your parted lips and tearing at your heart with every shaky inhale. You squeezed your eyes shut before burying your face into one of the couch pillows in hopes that this moment would just disappear, in hopes that this was all a well-constructed nightmare.

It felt like an eternity before you heard the rough alto of Changbin’s voice. It was choked, like he was having a hard time keeping himself together and though you wished to do something to ease his pain, you also knew that if you took a look at him, you’d crumble in seconds. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The sentence echoed through your ears, pain tugging at your heartstrings with every second that passed.

Without looking at him, you answered in a whisper, “because it’s not your fault.” 

"Not my fault?” His voice rose in anger, “not my fault? How is this not my fault? You love me, you’re dying because you love me. How--Fuck Y/N! How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?! I--” 

“Please,” your broken soprano flies out between you like a needle that hits him straight in the heart, “please. Not now.” 

If there was any reason why you hadn’t wanted to tell the said man straight up about the hanahaki was exactly for that reason; you loathed the idea of having Changbin beat himself up for the feelings that tormented your heart. It wasn’t his fault, but knowing the kind of person that he was, you were certain he’d feel guilty about not returning your feelings. 

But that wasn’t what you wanted. Not just some half-hearted love. Not a love that got drawn out from pity. You didn’t want him to love you, if that meant that he lost himself in the process. 

All you wanted, prayed for, was his happiness.

And that wasn’t you, as harsh as that was of a pill to swallow.

------

You woke up the next day to find Changbin still on the couch, sleeping where you had left him last evening to hide in your bedroom. When you’d gently lulled him out of sleep, he’d proceeded to make some breakfast while chatting about the most random things and quite frankly, ignoring the elephant in the room. It came to the point where you had snapped and asked what were his true intentions. To which he answered, as though it was the simplest solution: 

“I’m spending some time with my best friend,” he’d glanced over at you from his breakfast plate filled with eggs and sausages, “isn’t that obvious?” 

“But--” 

“Y/N, you’re not the only one who cares about this relationship,” Changbin looked away, before looking back with tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes, “if I can’t change my heart, then I’ll change the way I spend my time.”

You tried again, “I don’t want your pity--”

“Unless you want me to feel guilty for the rest of my life.” 

“You’re..." you watched him, unsure of what exactly was going on inside that head of his. Sometimes, his logic didn’t add up.This was one of those times, “now you’re making me feel guilty.” 

“Do you not want me around?” 

It seemed that your condition might have shaken him up more than you initially thought. His presence had always been a constant and yet up until now, he’d been busier, schedules more packed with activities and socializing with his other course mates whenever he had blocks of free time. He’d lock himself in his studio alone whenever inspiration struck and though you had always respected his personal space, there was no denying that some part of you missed him deeply. But it wasn’t like you could tell him that, knowing that it would merely be selfish of you to do so.

“That’s not what I--”

“Thought so,” and he got up from the table, signalling that the conversation was a case closed and dusted before directing himself towards the sink. You’d only dipped your head back towards your plate, trying hard not to let the heat colour your cheeks the way it always did whenever you found your best friend attractive. It had been getting harder and harder to stop yourself from reacting, and now that your feelings were out in the open, you hoped that Changbin would play along and ignore them altogether. 

Now though, now was different. Changbin actively sought you out; in the library he’d bring you cappuccinos with almond milk and an extra coffee shot just as you liked before sitting down to ‘study’ opposite you, he’d call you up at the most random times to chill at your flat even if that meant basking in hours of comfortable silence while you worked side by side. He’d even drag you to the studio with him, adamant on making you listen through his countless tracks with excuses that he needed a second opinion.

"I have questionable taste. You of all people should know that,” you would argue whenever he’d fight to place the headphones over your ears. You let him though, enjoying the warmth of his figure whenever he leaned over yours to fiddle with the headset. 

“Exactly why I want you to listen,” Changbin’s voice was muffled and yet, the way his breaths brushed against your ear caused your stomach to tingle. 

You wished to believe that his attention was intentional, that it came to him as naturally as breathing. But you knew it wasn’t. Because as soon as he’d walk away from you, you had to rush to the nearest bathroom to cough up more and more flower stems ceremoniously. 

And it was okay, really. It was bearable. You were happy enough to have him for a little while, even though you knew it would last up until the day you closed your eyes for the last time.

Once, he’d invited you over to make sushi -- he’d claimed beforehand that he was a good sushi roller and that this was just an excuse to flaunt his skills -- and he’d dragged you out to the supermarket with him, threatening that you wouldn’t be getting any of the salmon if you didn’t. So you’d reluctantly followed, complaining along the way as you trailed after him like a five-year-old child. 

It was when you were in the middle of looking at the salmon that you were suddenly overtaken with that familiar burn in your throat. Doubling over and trying to breathe as evenly as possible, you turned away from the food display just in time to cough up blood in your palm.

Changbin was at your side in an instant, hands circling your middle while murmuring his concern in your ears while you tried forcing down the pain slowly brimming over your mouth. At this point, you hadn’t realized that your best friend had slid you into his arm while he’d yelled at everyone to get the fuck out of the way, not until you were met with the outside air and was suddenly slammed by a round of coughing that just wouldn’t stop. 

You felt Changbin’s hands against your back, stroking soft circles as you coughed and coughed and coughed. Blood splattered over your clothes, on the ground, dribbled down your chin in a stream filled with flower petals and stems that grated against your lips. 

The more you coughed, the more flowers appeared. You noticed tulips, roses, daisies as well now. Those were new, you thought bitterly as you heaved.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since, nor how you found yourself pressed against Changbin’s chest with your head tucked under his chin. He held you softly, tenderly, and you didn’t have the self-restraint to stop the silent tears from dribbling down your chin.

You loved him. 

You didn’t want to die.

“That’s a pretty big bouquet you just made,” came his soft murmur in the shell of your ear, causing a faint smile to twitch at your lips. Indeed, the array of flowers littering the ground would’ve been nothing less of beautiful, if not for the large amount of blood that you had just lost. 

“Changbin,” you breathed out weakly.

“Hm?” 

"I’m...” your head lolled against his neck when you tried to look up at him but failed, “I’m sorry.” 

His body stilled. Then, he said, “what for?” 

“For taking away your time,” your voice was thick with emotion.

“You’re not. I spend my time however I want,” his hold tightened, “if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.” 

Still. You felt bad. You opened your mouth to apologize once more, only for him to beat you to it by pressing a finger to your lips.

"Don't," he said, "apologize."

Fire had seeped from his finger to litter across your cheeks and you were glad that your face was hidden from view, for you were bound to be the colour of a fire engine, no doubt about that.

Later, when your heart had calmed and your throat had been soothed with hot chocolate, he'd pulled you out into the rooftop and proceeded to sit you down onto his jacket so that you could gaze out at the cityscape.

"Beautiful," you murmured and took a sip of your drink, allowing the warmth to spread through your limbs. Spring weather was ambiguous that way; sometimes cold, sometimes bearable.

"Y/N."

"Hm?"

Changbin took a sip of his beer, "is there anything you'd like to do?"

"What do you mea--"

It dawned on you then. Oh.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."

He angled his head towards you, "will you tell me?"

A smile graced your features, though you hoped he didn't notice how it didn't reach your eyes, "sure."

All you wanted though, all your yearned for, was for him.

Not that you'd ever tell him that.

A little later during that same week, you had taken the chance to ask him about the girl he loved. He'd brought you over to the Han River to show you how to skateboard and as you sat in the grass admiring the sun setting over the horizon, you decided to buckle up the courage and blurt out what was haunting your mind for days on end.

"What's her name?"

"Huh?" Changbin had looked at you like you'd really gone crazy then, before you prompted him with, "the girl you like. What's her name?"

He tried not to squirm in embarrassment, and failed as he averted his eyes, "i don't like her," you heard him mumble under his breath, "I just think she's cute."

"Yeah yeah. What's her name?"

"Why should I tell you?" He threw you a scowl, "so that you can make fun of me?"

"It's one of the things on my list."

"What list?"

"List of things I want to do," you propped your chin into your hands and grinned teasingly, "and that's asking you about the girl you like."

He let out an annoyed sigh, "Yoreum."

"Wah, pretty name. What's she like?"

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Why not?" You pouted, "I'll cheer you on even in spirit."

"Don't," he snapped back so suddenly, "talk like that."

Blinking at his sudden change in demeanour, you decided it was wiser to drop the subject altogether, lest it agitated him more. Changbin was known for his moody temperament but he'd been quite generous with you these past few weeks. Maybe because he knew that there was going to be an end. The thought caused another ache to reverberate through your chest and you looked away, not knowing on which foot to dance on for the rest of the night.

As you were walking back home, you felt his eyes constantly glance at the way you kept on blowing air into your hands,  "you cold?"

"Huh? Oh no, I--"

Too late, for his hand reached out to engulf yours, bringing it over to stuff it in his jacket. You stared at him for a full minute as your heart skipped a beat. What...was that?

It was cold. That's why. He was just trying to be a gentleman, your brain kept on reasoning with you. 

Your heart though, was saying otherwise. Maybe he likes you! Maybe he’s realized that--

You coughed. Once, twice. And then, you were falling to your knees as petals fell onto your shirt and dropped stained your clothes, your lap. Everything. Metallic rust engulfed your nose and you gratefully accepted the tissue that your best friend offered you. 

“You good?” his breath brushed against your cheek, concerned orbs ablaze. 

You wished you could get over him. You wished you could steer your heart away.

You nodded weakly, wiping away the remnants of blood and wishing that you could die right then and there from the embarrassment of being so openly weak and disgusting when he was around. 

But he merely grabbed the tissue from your hold and proceeded to wipe away at the corner of your lips. Your heart tugged in your chest, relishing in his gentle touches as you allowed yourself to bask in his attention. Even for a little while.

There was no way you could forget Seo Changbin. Even if you tried.

-----

"How are you really?” 

You rolled your eyes, a smile dancing across your lips as you exited the library with Chan in tow, “you’re such a worry-wuss.” 

“Hey, I’m asking out of concern,” Chan chides in that fatherly manner of his that always made you feel safe somehow, “I never see you around anymore because Changbin steals you away.” 

“Aw, don’t be jealous,” you reached out to ruffle his hair before he had the chance to duck away, “you’re still my secret favourite. But don’t tell Changbin that. Otherwise he’ll just sulk for days.” 

“You make it sound so tempting,” Chan wriggles his brows in a teasing manner while you strode towards the parking lot. It was a late Friday evening and you had planned to meet up at the nearest Burger joint with Changbin and some of the other boys whom you hadn’t seen in a while and it was no surprise that you had decided to take advantage of Chan a your driver for the night. 

“Who else is coming with us?” 

“Changbin said he’d come but you know how he is,” Chan re-adjusted his backpack over his shoulder, “maybe we should call him if he doesn’t show up by the time we get to the car.” 

Evidently, there was no sign of the said raven-haired man as you walked up to Chan’s red Mazda. That prompted you to call him, only to turn and spot his figure by the main flight of stairs with the girl you now knew as Yoreum.

You waited for that ache. For that burning sensation like alcohol was slipping down your throat, hands clenching around your phone. 

The pain was there, you could feel it under your tongue.

But you didn’t cough. Nothing pushed at the back of your trachea.

You blinked, perplexed for a moment. Maybe this wasn’t Yoreum after all? 

Or maybe Changbin was forcing himself to suppress his feelings. For your sake? 

That wouldn’t make sense. Changbin had said so himself. He wasn’t the kind of person to be forcing himself into situations. That’s what you loved the most about him, after all.

You tried not to ponder over it too much during dinner, hand unconsciously going to your chest and feeling your heart slowly beating under your clothed chest. Weird, you couldn’t help thinking. Why?

Maybe you were dying. Maybe you were going to die.

Or maybe...just maybe, you were slowly moving on.

Impossible.

"So are you dating her or not?” 

It was one of your friends-- Felix-- who brought you back to reality, blinking before realizing that the question was aimed at none other than the man whom had preoccupied your thoughts over the last hour.

Changbin leaned over, placing his elbows on the table as he sipped his beer, “we’re not dating.” 

“I thought you liked her,” Minho pointed out.

“Can we not talk about this now?” you would’ve missed the way Changbin’s dark orbs flickered over to you if you hadn’t been paying attention. But you did, and that hurt a little bit more than you liked to admit. You loved him, but that didn’t mean that you wanted to know nothing of his personal life either. 

Nevertheless, you decided that keeping your mouth shut would not hurt either, knowing that it might trigger some more coughing on your part. Nobody knew after all, that you were slowly being eaten away by plants growing in-between your lungs.

More oftentimes than not, Chan would urge you to go see a doctor, “just to see what the condition’s like,” he’d press you constantly, “you never know. Maybe it's getting better. Maybe you're getting better."

"There's only one explanation for that, Chan. And that would be that Changbin doesn't love Yoreum anymore," you smiled faintly, "and we both know that's not true."

Still, you couldn't help hoping that your condition was a sign that maybe you still had a chance at life. Part of you was curious as to whether there had been a change in Changbin's heart -- maybe even in yours -- but there was no denying the fact that it would be misplaced, especially in the context.

As you found yourself spending more and more time in Changbin's presence, you couldn't help but wonder whether he was pushing Yoreum aside just to accomodate you, and that thought was enough to make you feel guilty.

"Why don't you invite her?" You asked aloud once, when Changbin dragged you along for some bubble tea in the late hours of the evening. 

He’d stared at you silently for a solid minute. 

"Why would I do that?"

His question threw you off. You shot him a look as the said shop came into view, "isn't it obvious?"

"No."

You stopped in mid-walk, scowled at him, "I don't want you compromising your time."

"I'm not."

"But don't you want to spend time with her?"

At this point, his expression had morphed from confusion to infuriation and if you didn't know better, you'd say he was getting agitated.

He looked away, "I want to spend time with you."

Your heart stuttered, breath suddenly catching in your throat at his blunt statement. You hadn't expected him to be so forward about it, albeit the fact that he was merely speaking in terms of friendship. So you decided to drop the subject for now and kept on pondering it over in your head as you laid to rest that night. Knowing him, those set of words probably didn’t mean much. To you though? It meant everything.

You tried not to let your heart get ahead of yourself.

When it got warm enough, it was Changbin’s idea to drive you up to the coast when you had mentioned that you enjoyed listening to the sound of the ocean waves after a long, hard week. Especially after a long, hard week. It was no surprise that you were touched at his gesture, yet finding it bittersweet how he wasn’t exactly yours to lose even when he was right here, by your side. 

There was something nostalgic about knowing that your days were counted, and while you had been feeling a little bit better these past few days, your questions had been answered by the internet; that this was just the calm before the storm. 

In other words, there was more chance of you dying than living through that rare disease. 

“Say Changbin,” you spoke aloud when you descended from the car, a pack of beer tucked under your arm and a bag of snacks in his while making your way towards the golden beach glimmering in the afternoon sun. 

“Hm?” you felt his dark orbs on your face. 

You kept looking forward, feeling the sand slip through toes in bliss, “thank you,” you murmured, “for doing this.” 

He was quiet for a few seconds. Then, replied, “don’t thank me. You make yourself sound like a charity case.” 

Isn’t that what I am? You couldn’t help but think to yourself with bitterness. Settling over a comfortable spot and curling your knees up to your chest, you gratefully accepted the cold beer that Changbin handed to you -- after he’d cracked it open like the gentleman that he was -- and let out a soft breath, eyes finding solace in the waves lapping up the shore.

“How’s your coughing?” he broke the comfortable silence.

“It’s actually not bad,” you started tracing circles with the tip of your index finger in the sand, the roughness of particles slightly stinging your skin, “I haven’t had a bad spell since that supermarket incident.” 

He hummed in response, took a sip of his beer, but didn’t say anything in response. The comfortable silence washed over you and you allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of the sun prickling at your skin, at the scent of salt in the air with every wave that brushed forward with the current. 

This was the place to be. For a quiet, waking moment, you could imagine that your life was endless. That you’d live till the very end, die old and wrinkly and with a full stomach. 

Your fingers unconsciously clenched around your beer bottle. If only.

If only.

“I know why,” Changbin suddenly blurted out.

Your head swivelled towards him, eyebrow raised, “huh?” 

“I know why,” he hesitated, “why you’re not coughing as much anymore.” 

Something stirred in your chest as you stared him down, cogs already turning in your brain. What was he getting at? 

“I--” was it your imagination or were his cheeks redder than they had been a few minutes ago? You kept on staring him down as he struggled to find the right words, stumbled over them with the clumsiness of a five year old, “I--I realized something. Ever since.” 

“Ever since?” 

“Ever since you told me you loved me.” 

If he was blushing, then you had flushed the colour of a fire engine. God, why did he have to put it so bluntly? 

“What--”You swallowed thickly while turning away to gulp down some beer, if not to cool yourself down, “what did you realize?” 

And that was when you felt the warmth of his fingers ghost over your chin. He cupped it in his hold, turning your face over so that you had no choice but to clash eyes as he slowly traced over your features with a gaze that seemed to speak volumes. That only caused your confusion to grow by tenfold. 

“What?” You spluttered out, not really used to the closeness of his mouth that was hovering dangerously close. You hadn’t realized that his other hand had trailed down to your side until you felt him pull you a little closer, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Cha--Changbin? What--What are you doing?” You all but squeaked out. This was unknown territory. This was Changbin, and he...

He loved someone else.

So why was he cradling you in his hold as though you were the finest piece of silk that he feared would tear apart with the slightest brusque gesture?

And why, oh why was his orbs swimming with that unidentifiable emotion that made your stomach churn and butterflies to erupt through your middle and tickle at your abdomen? Why was he looking at you like that? Why? 

Your questions were soon interrupted by the sensation of his mouth on yours. 

It was warm, and soft, and tentative, and no sooner did you blink that it was over, leaving you to gape at him like a stupid fish out of the water. Changbin, meanwhile, kept on gazing at you, as if gauging your reaction.

The only thing that managed to make it out of your lips was, “What?”

He allowed his lips to respond in his stead. He kissed your next breath away. And the next. And the next. Until your heart almost leaped out of your chest, until your body felt like it was tingling with electricity all over and until you couldn’t help but kiss back slightly, jumping as he let out a soft noise of approval.

When you pulled apart for air, his dark pupils kept on darting back and forth between your eyes and your open mouth and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think that he was resisting the urge to kiss you once more. 

“Changbin?” you whispered, “please tell me...” tears started brimming through your eyes, “please tell me this isn’t...just because--”

“No,” he looked horrified, “no, no Y/N. Of course not--”

“Then why are you doing this?” you were slowly pulling out of his grasp, reality crashing through you like waves, “why are you giving me hope when--when you love someone else--” 

“But that’s it, Y/N,” Changbin’s hands scrambled to find yours, “I don’t love anyone else. I--I thought I did. Maybe I did, because you wouldn’t have coughed so much if not. But then--Things changed, I don’t know. When you told me you were dying, it--it scared me. It scared me so fucking much, Y/N,” emotion clogged up his throat, eyes turning just as wet as yours. It wasn’t every day that you got to see Changbin without his walls up, “I didn’t--I don’t want to lose you. I tricked myself into believing I was into someone else. But when that--that happened, I--” he shook his head, eyes squeezing shut as though forcing himself to forget the pain etched into memory, “I realized I was just trying to run away from what I really wanted, all along.” 

He brought your hands up slowly to his lips before he pressed a soft, chaste kiss upon your knuckles, “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, “I never wanted to hurt you. Seeing you, so much blood. There was so much blood every time you--” 

He couldn’t help but burst into soft, broken sobs and your heart broke to watch him struggle to catch a hold of himself. Arms winding around him to pull him into your embrace, your hands went to stroke the back fo his head as the man in your arms cried like you’d never seen him cry before. It was a scene that literally tore your heart out and wrenched it sideways; to see Changbin in so much pain that he’d had to hold in whenever he was by your side and seeing you hurt. It pained you, it hurt you. So much so that tears silently cascaded down your cheeks, pressing yourself a little closer to him for comfort.

He calmed down after a while, slowly relaxing into your hold so that you were the one holding him close to your chest as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The day was long gone, replaced by the evening hues of deep blue mixing in with vivid purple where the sun met the darkening sky, and though there was a slight chill in the air, Changbin’s strong arms looped around your waist did the trick to keep you warm.

“Don’t leave.” 

He called out your name and you hummed in response, awaiting for his next set of words while playing with his hair. The reality of the situation had slowly sunk onto your shoulders when you’d held him in your arms; that he loved you, loved you enough that you had stopped coughing altogether. 

His voice was laced with so much raw pain that your throat clogged up with emotion. 

“I won’t,” you murmured back, knowing that deep in your heart, you’d try your best to keep pushing forward, to keep loving him.

“Promise me,” he nuzzled his nose into your neck, the action causing your heart to flutter. Then, lifting himself up so that he was hovering above you once more, you couldn’t help but admire the way the moonlight bathed the planes of his face. He looked softer, more ethereal in that light.

Your fingers went up, cradling his cheek in your palm, “I promise.” 

And then he kissed you some more; a silent promise, a reassurance, a way to prove to you that he loved you just as much as you loved him, a way to show you that his heart only beat when you were around.

His heart would beat for you, just like yours did.