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#hurts my hands less but still screaming into the void and on the off chance someone sees and reads the tags... maybe i get a virtual hug or
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midnightwinterhawk · 3 years
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I put together a little collection of Sterek and Steter fics for funsies. “Just a few fics”, I thought, “nothing too crazy.” Thirty fics later I had to cut myself off and finalize the list. You can thank @the-cookie-of-doom​ for the inspiration. 
These primarily fall under the Hurt Stiles Stilinski category because I apparently like to see my comfort characters suffer. Most of these have hopeful/happy endings but mind the tags. For reals.
Placed under a cut since I have no self control and this turned into a long post.
Sterek
adore to see your eyes fly by @1001cranes
(11,309 l E)
stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.
take my heart from me by @areiton
(23,188 l NR)
He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them.
To Derek.
He just wanted to keep them all safe.
That's all Stiles ever wanted.
"Why Can't You?" by @asterekmess
(3,602 l T)
Now. This was happening now, and he couldn’t be less prepared.
-
After a long night, things between Stiles and his father come to a head.
And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi
(30,314 l E)
Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.
A Victory March by @churkey
(2,688 l T)
When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same. His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk. He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.
They're real and not hiding under anyone's bed.
Bury the Moon by darthjamtart
(16,592 l M)
First things get bad. Then they get worse. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s sacrificed until it’s too late.
Dying is the easy part.
Love's Violent Delights by @dexterous-sinistrous
(10,685 l E)
Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.
Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.
Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.
Empty by @discontentedwinter
(48,034 l M)
Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.
Your Vision Borrows Mine by hazyascent
(188,781 l E)
Stiles has encountered a fair share of monsters before, way out of his league - the kinds that children are afraid are hiding in their closets and under the bed.
He’d even become one himself when he was void. The nogitsune was in his house, his body, and his mind.
But the worst monster he’s ever faced took even more from him and got away with it.
It’s why Stiles has never really been as terrified of werewolves and kanimas and darachs as he should have been. They’re really not that scary, relatively speaking, and he has a whole team on his side. They always found a way to win - until they lost someone they really loved.
Stiles doesn’t know how to be normal, not after everything he’s done and everyone he’s hurt. The nogitsune is gone, but another monster is on its heels.
His uncle is back. And Stiles has never felt more alone.
It Was a Wednesday by @isthatbloodonhisshirt
(80,129 l M)
“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”
Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.
Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.
“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.
“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”
Tiny Houses by @ohmyjetsabel-blog
(77,183 l E)
"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.
God, he dreams.
He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."
I'm There in the Water by @spaceprincessem
(15,878 l T)
“But it’s—” Derek paused, his words unsure, “it’s not like us,” he swallows hard, chin dipping to his chest in frustration, “it’s like a…”
“An abomination,” Stiles finished, nodding his head as he finally lets his gaze really look at Derek since Scott had pulled them from the water.
He suddenly wished he hadn’t because the way Derek looks at him makes Stiles feel like he is ten years old again. Like Derek is seeing him for the first time since they accidentally fell into each other’s orbit all those years ago. Like Stiles isn’t a burden or invisible.
Like he is enough.
Or five times Stiles felt like he was drowning and the one time he finally caught his breath
Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit
(2,577 l M)
“The rules to the game are simple. One bullet, six chances. You pick it up and take turns pulling the trigger on the other man, or we gun you both down right now. You play along, only one of you has to die. Fun game, huh?”
--
Derek and Stiles are captured by a group of hunters and forced to play a twisted game that only one of them might walk away from.
The Price by theroguesgambit
(18,452 l M)
Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.
Nieważny by Zethsaire
(2,037 l E)
The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.
Steter
Make Me Bleed by @asarcasticwitch
(2,304 l E)
Peter’s expression contorts, impressed or surprised, Stiles can't decipher, but the grin on his face proves he’s not exactly disappointed with the unexpected turn of events.
“Which bite exactly were you hoping for, hm?” The older man curls one hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, trailing his thumb along his pale, fragile throat.
Stiles tilts his head back in unyielding submission, giving the wolf no room to debate his sincerity. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Alpha.
Two Roads Converge in a Graveyard Town by @cywscross
(15,645 l T)
The Deadpool brings one more assassin to Beacon Hills. A man's gotta eat after all.
when you're going through hell (keep going for me) by cywscross
(57,022 l T)
Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.
(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)
Don't Fail Me Now by @discontentedwinter​
(36,315 l E)
Stiles goes to Derek looking for help.
He finds Peter instead.
Peter takes what he's wanted for a very long time.
Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter
(56,525 l M)
The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.
It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.
Bite Down by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)
(27,586 l M)
In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.
Into Eden by @graciebirdie
(12,232 l M)
Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.
Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay
(4,032 l E)
Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.
He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.
Call My Name by KouriArashi ( @gingersnapwolves )
(81,370 l M)
After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.
Hide my tears in the rain. by MrsRidcully
(6,865 l M)
After  years spent successfully dodging werewolves, evil spirits and wendigos,  it was a drunk driver who stole his Dad, a drunk driver with a  suspended license and a record sheet as long as Stiles’s arm. Stiles  would have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been so busy screaming.
In My Veins Like Disease by romanoffbarton
(1,140 l T)
He tries to leave once.
Foreshock by @twothumbsandnostakeincanon
(22,816 l E)
The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.
Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.
Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.
Desperation never stopped an earthquake.
Your Touch is My Choice by twothumbsandnostakeincanon
(2,171 l T)
The first time John does it, Stiles is two years old and about to run into the road.
“Mieczysław!” Heart pounding, John grabbed him by the back of his neck and got a hand around his tummy, snatching him back. “No, you have to stay away from the road,” he said firmly.
Shameful Company by Whispering_Sumire (@whispering-sumire755)
(38,779 l E)
"Did I turn into a unicorn?" Peter asks dryly, and Stiles glares at him for a moment before the laughter bubbles up, unbidden, nearly unwilling, and he looks so surprised at the sound, his shock dimming it for a moment before it bursts through with even more trembling ferocity. A long, thin, willowy hand curls into a soft fist over his mouth, and he's shaking, frail, more tears falling, but the copper of his eyes are glowing, crinkling around the edges and scrunched with mirth.
"No," Stiles chokes, chuckling wetly. "No, fuck you, a unicorn? What, like, Rainbowcreep? Zombiesparkle?"
[About a year before the fated Hale fire, Peter starts having nightmares that involve a woman with red hair. The nightmares lead to a spell that brings a man back through time, and, eventually, though the time-traveler is traumatized in the most horrific ways, and Peter's never been good with or for people, in general, they develop a bond that neither of them expects.]
Would You Forgive Me If I Called You Hope, Peter Hale? (Hope, By Any Other Name) by Whispering_Sumire
(10,099 l T)
Stiles has scars. He owns that, he accepts it, he's cataloged and memorized every single one, he's hyper fucking aware of them all.
//
"What do you want, Peter?" Having the more untrustworthy of the Pack getting protective weirds him the fuck out, leaves an odd fluttering in his chest, like moths, waiting perilously and suicidally to be burned.
He doesn't like it.
"You're injured," the man says, "and whatever it is, it's put you in enough pain that I nearly fainted when I-"
"- Used your werewolf mojo on me without my permission?" Stiles smirks, and Peter gives him a black look, crossing a leg over his knee and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle on his pants.
"Tell me the truth Stiles, how bad is it?"
[Or: The one where Stiles has scars, is more than a little fucked up, and Peter notices. He helps.]
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popi-the-fatui · 3 years
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CHILDE BF HCs
(that no one asked for but here they are anyways)
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A/N: this man needs some luv. Long post, there is a whole iceberg under the “read more”. Also, I tried to keep a Gender Neutral reader so pls DM me if there are any mistakes!!
TW: DESCRIPTION OF AN ANXIETY ATTACK, SPOILERS FOR THE REX LAPIS QUEST AND CHILDE’S PAST, a little bit of angst
🐋 Let’s bust some myths first: contrary to popular belief, Childe has no experience at relationships or intimacy at all. Non. Cero. The Venn diagram of romantic/intimate stuff and things Childe has done is a void. But it’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just that he hasn’t had the time to experience any of these things because he is a busy man: between fighting, training and being a Harbinger, there is not a minute left for him to indulge in other things. 
🐋 The problem with this is that Tartaglia is a people’s person. He WANTS to be able to have someone that he can do these things with. At the end of the day, when he comes home tired after a mission, all he wants is someone to be waiting for him with cuddles, hugs, kisses, reassurance, caresses, or just a simple “how did your day go?” Because of this, he has a lot of pent-up love that he has not been able to give. 
🐋 In that note, he is also incredibly touch-starved: not only does he want someone to give that love to, but Childe also craves to receive it. When was the last time he was touched by someone in a context that was not a fight? He loves fighting, obviously: he has trained for a big part of his life to be able to defeat everything and everyone. But he is also just a human, and there are limits to how long a person can go without a loving touch. 
🐋 So when he finally falls victim to the first signs of infatuation, this poor whale man will have an internal battle: do I reach for them? Would they be better off if they never meet me? Will they accept me? Has my reputation already ruined this for me before it even began? How do I approach them? Do I look presentable? Am I going to scare them away? Childe will be torn between wanting to protect you from himself (as the Fatui business is not an easy pill to swallow for everyone) and protect himself from you (his heart would not handle rejection/disgust very well), and wanting to KISS YOU AND HUG YOU AND KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU BECAUSE ARGH WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO ADORABLE.
🐋 So he finally decides to compromise between these two stances, and let YOU decide whether you want him as a friend, a lover or a stranger. He starts greeting you whenever he sees you in the streets, subtly asking if you would like him to join you in your commissions, inviting you for lunch/dinner after a mission so you can recharge your energy, asking if you want to go and share drinks with him and Zhongli. You know, friendly stuff friends do. And he doesn’t even try to hide the happy smile that escapes him whenever you say yes to him: when it comes to you, there is nothing he needs to hide. Well, except for that one thing. 
🐋 He knows that you know he is somehow associated with the Fatui, if his constant trips to the Northland Bank aren’t enough to tell. Usually, Childe dislikes going around things as he much rather hit straight to the point (being the point a fight, a deal or just a simple conversation). But he has grown so addicted to the sensations you make him feel that he can’t help but to try to postpone that tiny little detail about himself for later. He has never had anyone who genuinely wants to spend time with him and that can keep up with him. Childe knows he can be quite intense and that rumors about him aren’t really rumors but WARNINGS, and to finally have someone, even if you’re just friends, that is actively trying to get to know the real him means so much, and he doesn’t want to let that go as selfish as he knows it is because there’s a chance you could get hurt (emotionally and physically). 
🐋 Unfortunately for him, everything that goes up must go down, and that fateful day comes when his plans to take Rex Lapis’ Gnosis blows back to him. After that brief, tense conversation with La Signora and Zhongli, Childe’s ego can’t be any lower: it’s not often that he loses, and much less often that he loses while feeling like a fool. He wants to scream, fight, punch, kick. Anything to take out the impotence and anger he is feeling right now. 
🐋 You found him in this state while you were looking for him to see if he was alright because a WHOLE ASS PALACE JUST FELL FROM THE SKY and you’re very concerned for him as you haven’t had any news directly from him and all you know is that apparently Childe was the cause of it?
🐋 As soon as he sees you, his blood-lust disappears and he no longer wants to fight something: he wants to cry from shame. Shame at being found in this state. Shame at failing. Shame at what you would think of him now that the cat’s out of the bag because from the look in your face is EVIDENT that now you know how far his relationship with the Fatui goes. 
🐋 He falls to the ground, tears finally coming out and he is crying ugly sobs while hiccuping nonsense about how he is a weak, pathetic, disgusting failure and it’s not fair it’s not FAIR IT’S NOT FAIR IT’S NOT-
🐋 “Look at me” you softly call to him, but he is panicking and hyperventilating and not responding to anything that’s outside of his head, so you decide to sit on your knees in front of him, gently cupping his face with your hands, caressing his tears away with your thumbs. 
🐋 “Childe, look at me. Please?” You try again, carefulness in your tone as to not startle him. And when he finally reacts and looks up, you don’t see Tartaglia the 11th Harbinger, nor Childe the fatui flirt. All you see is a broken man that carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, exhausted from constantly fighting against everything the world has thrown at him, and your heart aches for him and wonders how long this man has suffered alone, how long has he suffered in silence. 
🐋 “It’s okay, Childe. You’re okay. Can you breathe for me?” You position yourself behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing circles with your fingers to further calm him. “Breath with me, yeah just like that. Now hold it for a bit and then release it. Keep going, I’ll do it with you. I’m here”
🐋 Childe finds himself finding it easier to breathe with each inhale and exhale, and when he is finally going down from his high, catharsis hits him HARD. Is this what he has been missing all of his life? Is releasing all that pent-up frustration supposed to feel this good? And he feels a little selfish, because he knows he doesn’t deserve your comfort after the stunt he pulled, but Childe can’t help but become putty under your tender touches and your soft words, and he wishes for a different context, for a different past in which he never fell into the abyss, never joined the Fatui, never felt that the only way to survive was to fight. Instead, he wishes for a past in which he is traveling because he wants to, and he meets you, and he courts you and makes your cheeks heat up at something he said. And you are not touching him because he had a panic crisis that he himself caused. No, he imagines the both of you after a dinner date in Liyue. The sky is dark and the stars are shining but the streets are still full of people laughing and talking and the light from the lamps are reflecting beautifully in your hair. You are walking near the harbor, and you are holding his hand and he is giving you a kiss on your forehead because he can’t help himself. In another life, he would have found you and loved you the way you deserve and the way he needs. 
🐋 But he knows that now is too late, and all he has left is a mind full of regret because he did, in fact, hurt you. How could you trust him after this? How could you WANT him after this? So imagine his surprise when the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a soft “Are you ok now, Childe?”
🐋 “I- how- what?” He mutters in disbelief. Why are YOU asking HIM that? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
🐋 “You had me very worried back there. I thought you would stop breathing at any moment. You are not hurt, are you?”
🐋 And he laughs. A high-pitched, almost maniac laugh. “You know I was the cause of all of…” he says, moving his arms to signal, well, everywhere “...this, right? I believe you now must know what my real business in Liyue was, and that I’m not just some random Fatui officer”
🐋 “Well… I kind of suspected it? How many ‘random Fatui officers’ are carrying a Vision, huge amounts of Mora and have so many ‘meetings’ at the Northland Bank with the Qixing themselves? I mean, I didn’t know you were a Harbinger, but I did know that you were a higher up in the organization. I’m not dumb, you know?” you answer light-heartedly. 
🐋 “Then why would you keep hanging out with me? If you knew all of that, then you for sure must have known that people tend to keep me in a ‘do not trust’ list. People are wary around me, and they should! If you knew of the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve DONE. The reputation surrounding the Fatui, especially the Harbingers, wasn’t built on nothing, you know?”
🐋 “Don’t get me wrong. I do have somewhat of an idea of the things you do for a living. And let me be clear: I certainly do not condone it. And to be honest, I know that things between us would be easier if you weren’t a Fatui and I actually wish you weren’t one” you can feel how his whole body deflated at that, and even if you are sitting behind him, you just know he has a pout on his face, so you resolve for hugging him from behind and rest the side of your face between his shoulder blades, and continue. 
🐋 “But in the past weeks, I also had the opportunity to get to know you. Not Fatui you. But human you. I know that you have a family that you love very much and you do everything in your power to protect them. I know that you haven’t had it easy, and that some scars you have still hurt. I know that you absolutely can’t eat with chopsticks, but your pride refuses to give up and you try anyway. I know that you’re a passionate man that holds his dearest people close to his heart. I know that you hate when I’m sad so you’re willing to make a fool of yourself if that means I’ll end up laughing. I know how you wait outside of my building until my window lights up after you get me home so you are sure nothing happened to me. I know by the way you sometimes disassociate from the world around you that you are thinking of home and returning to your family” as you speak, you feel something wet falling on your upper arms, and realize that Childe is silently crying. You have half a mind to stop, but you also know that he needs to hear this, so you tighten your hug a little in reassurance. 
🐋 “I also know that whenever I see you with a new wound, I can’t help but worry for you and my first instinct is to check if you are okay. I’m now familiar with the way my heart skips a beat whenever I get to see one of your genuine smiles, especially when the reason behind them is that you get to spend some time with me. I know my eyes soften when I see you talking about something you’re passionate about. The truth is, I care for you, Childe. I really do, Fatui or not. Harbinger or not. And yes, while I would rather you not be one, I still can’t help but long for your company because you make me happy. Because I love you. So don’t underestimate me. I’m strong and so are my feelings. You being a Fatui is not gonna change that”. After this, you two sit in silence for a few minutes, but it’s not an awkward one despite your confession. You know he is gathering his thoughts so you move one of your arms that is wrapped around Childe’s torso to card your fingers through his hair, mindful of the knots that had appeared after the battle. If he doesn’t believe your words, then you sure hope he trusts your actions. 
🐋 Childe is the one who breaks the silence when he asks “How could you possibly love someone like me?”. If you weren’t sitting that close to him, you wouldn’t have heard it. He says this so softly, so gently, almost as if he was trying to convince himself and not you. 
🐋 “Silly boy” you laugh warmly. “Did you hear anything I just said?” You ruffle his hair, and finally, FINALLY, you can hear him giggle a little. “You don’t get to decide who I love. That’s my choice, and I choose to love you”
🐋 No kisses were shared that day. No grand, magnificent romantic gestures were made. Only the silent promise of two young lovers to love and cherish each other as they were. And maybe, just maybe, you could work things out, together, to build yourselves a brighter future. 
🐋 So after all has been said and done: congrats! You are now the proud s/o of Teyvat’s biggest simp. 
🐋 Childe is your number one fan. Everything you do is carefully recorded in his mind for later use. He has to go on a mission away from you? Be prepared to be pampered and being taken on several dates the previous week so this clingy man has something to hold on to. 
🐋 Also: he is shameless. He will not be afraid of making out with you in plain daylight on a busy street. But fear not! If you happen to not be a fan of PDA, he will try to be low-profile. You are, afterall, a person he treasures and can’t live without, so your comfort comes before his needs. Now, I say “try” because he will still demand to hold your hand and give you the random kiss on your cheek. 
🐋 HUGS. FROM. BEHIND. Watch him giving you hugs like Oprah. You are buying something? Cooking? Chilling? Expect to feel a pair of long limbs wrapping from behind you in a tight hug like a koala. It’s his hourly vibe check. 
🐋 Very jealous and protective of you. He is very afraid that one day you’ll realize there are plenty of people better than him and you’ll leave him, so please remind this simp that he is more than enough for you. 
🐋 He also has nightmares from the time he spent in the abyss and will take sometime for him to realize that he is no longer there, so give him a few minutes for him to come to his senses and then please for the love of the Tsaritsa cuddle the life out of him. Also on this note, I have the headcanon that he prefers being the little spoon. That, or facing each other and he rests his face in the crook of your neck while leaving little pecks there. 
🐋 Also you discover, to your surprise and as stated at the beginning , that this man has absolutely no idea how to do relationships. To compensate for this and to give you only the best of the best (as you deserve), he spends time in his travels to read romantic novels to have an idea of what to do, so don’t be surprised if he says or does something corny or cringey. 
🐋 The most chaotic “meet the family” you’ll ever have. As soon as he takes you to Snezhnaya, you will have all of his siblings running and tackling you into a bear hug (he sends A LOT of letters to his family about you and if you read them you would not be sure if he is talking about you or a deity).
🐋 He also tries to keep you out of anything regarding the Fatui. It’s a relief that you finally know about how deep his person runs in the organization, but he also wants to spare you from the details of what he does unless something is really bothering him. 
🐋 All in all, this golden retriever is your biggest hype man and the most loyal boyfriend. You will never get bored with Childe, as everyday is an adventure with him and he will make sure you to make you as happy and loved as you make him feel.
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bubblegumbeech · 3 years
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The Losing Move
Day two Ectoberhaunt:  Scream vs Laugh
AO3
It started with a scream. That’s how Clockwork knew it was finally time. 
He hesitated, of course. There was so much to lose, so much still uncertain, paths branching in different directions, moments shrouded imperfectly from his view, strings of fate tangled and misused. But he was the Master of Time. He could hesitate and no one would ever know. 
Not even them. 
Clockwork made a portal, leaving his Clocktower and walking towards a tall grey rock almost as old as time itself, weathered by age and nothing like the statue it had once been standing proud in a garden of overgrown thorns and long dead leaves. Nocturn appeared next to him, a swirl of inky black void scattered with stars and nebulae. 
“Did you hesitate?” he asked. 
It was a valid question. An important one too, if they were to succeed. Clockwork’s hesitation could lead to an uncertain future, to a failure in their plot. And then they would be lost, set back hundreds of thousands of years again. 
“No.”
Nocturn accepted his answer. Perhaps he knew that Clockwork was lying, perhaps he did not. Either way, they both turned to the stone. 
It wasn’t long before the others appeared. 
Misery Vex was the first, then Sojourn, on and on until they all stood, surrounding the stone. 
Misery turned to Clockwork. “Did it take?” she asked, and he flew forward, taking off one of his gloves to run his hand along the smoothed side of the rock. It hummed, an energy unlike any else, unique to here yet everywhere and nowhere at all. Very chaotic indeed. 
“It has.”
She hummed an affirmative, linking her hand in his before reaching out to take Sojourn’s. Clockwork reached for Nocturn and as they all linked together they formed a shield, thick and impenetrable between their varied talents, around the stone. 
“How long will this take,” Vortex said, ever the impatient one. He was jittery, yellow cords of lightning constantly jumping all over him in a nervous jumble, branching in and out of each other like writhing snakes. 
Clockwork sighed. “Not long.”
“You musn’t get too close,” Misery warned.
“I know.”
“You musn’t go too far,” Nocturn reminded him. 
He knew that too. 
“You’ve failed before,” Misery said, her voice steady and calm. She was not wrong, nor accusatory. He had faltered, it had led to a less than ideal outcome. He would not admit this. 
Clockwork didn’t allow any emotion on his face. “The threat is contained. My faults did not lead to the failure of our mission.”
She scoffed. “No, only to ‘inconvenience’. Right?”
As far as she knew. As far as any of them did. They relied on him, to determine if their future would be a success. He was the only one who could see which path to take, what choices would lead to their victory. He was the only one who knew just how thin the chance was, how precarious the choice. It would not benefit them to know. He did not need their doubt.
“Who was it?” Sojourn asked, referring to the scream that had summoned them here. The scream that had echoed hauntingly throughout the entirety of the Infinite Realms. 
Clockwork hadn’t looked. He looked now. 
“A boy, fourteen years old, between child and adult, between living and dead, between here and there.” 
Nocturn smiled, “How fitting.”
The stone shattered. Power and chaos, magic and will swirled around in a tornado, beating against the solid weight of their shield and making what was once so obviously strong seem weak and pitiful in comparison. 
Vortex’s eyes glowed in excitement. It was a sign, they all knew, that things were getting close. 
Eventually the storm faded and all that was left was a weathered pile of ash and rubble where there had once been a stone, where there had once been a statue, where there had once been nothing at all. 
It would come to nothing once more. 
Soon.
  The Infinite Realms had been lifeless for so long. Nothing more than ambient ectoplasm and void. A place. Nothing more and nothing less than it had to be. Many of the denizens had never seen them alive, existing as they once had. The panic was only natural. The frenzy, exciting and new. The heart of it all beating again. 
There was one ghost in particular, of course, who had only known the realms as they existed now. Sure there might also be others, newly made and newly dead, but this one was the important one. He’d been the one to give his life for the life around them now. 
Or at least, he’d given half of it. 
The Observants, of course, were furious. 
They had attempted to hunt down the Ancients, knowing it was they who had done this, who had planned this and then hidden it from the view of those who watch. Vortex had been taken first, as expected, and Undergrowth had fled to the mortal realm. The others also split, the time for them to come together was over; the time to prepare for the end was nearing. 
Clockwork, of course, their ever loyal subservient pet that could not leave his tower without their knowledge, that could not use his power without their permission, he’d never been looked at twice.
“You told us the threat was neutralized.” Nocturn said, sliding up next to one of Clockwork’s monitors. He watched a scene, where Daniel and Pariah fought. It was not a real fight, of course. Pariah had long shed the haze of bloodlust that had driven him mad, and was now attempting to be endearing, to rebuild a trust Clockwork had never actually had in him. 
Clockwork took a sip of his tea. It was made from some of Pariah’s newly grown coraleander leaves and made a thick, murky green tea that Clockwork quite enjoyed the taste and texture of. Unfortunately that was exactly why Pariah had grown them, and while Clockwork had snuck them away like a petty thief, he doubted that the missing leaves had gone even a moment unnoticed. 
It was infuriating and Clockwork sipped at it slowly, savoring it’s warmth.
“He is no longer the King. In fact, there is no King at all, just as I said it would be.”
Nocturn turned to meet his eyes, tilting his head just slightly in suspicion. “Yes, you did. Though I suppose the others thought you meant he would not escape his sleep. Or at least, that he would not escape his sleep until after .”
Clockwork looked away, towards the monitor. Pariah had soundly defeated Daniel and was laughing. Likely at the way the poor boy looked, his hair a mess and covered in the very coraleander leaves Clockwork was drinking. He’d need to wash them off before he transformed back into a human. While they wouldn’t be immediately deadly to a Half-Ghost, they would form a large, hard to explain, rash. 
“That wasn’t what I said though, was it?” Clockwork met Nocturn’s eyes once more. 
The other ghost just snorted and shook his head. “No, no I guess it wasn’t. Clockwork, the tightrope you’re walking, that future you see that you haven’t told us about? I really hope you get it. I do. Because the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows and I can’t imagine what would happen if you missed.”
Clockwork’s tea had gone cold. He continued to sip it. He ignored Nocturn’s words and he watched the screen as Pariah helped Daniel stand, only for Daniel to tackle him when he wasn’t expecting it. 
“I’ll take that under consideration.” 
It was becoming habit, he found, to lie to Nocturn. 
  Daniel was at the Clocktower, eating a plate of cookies and complaining about some of the varied ghosts he had to deal with and fight on a regular basis in his mortal realm. It was a side effect, of course, of Phantom’s new role as the Heart of The Infinite Realms. The smaller, weaker ghosts, especially younger and newly dead ones, had attempted to flee the Realms when they noticed the sudden changes. 
When the Observants had become so busy trying to find the cause of the change, so busy trying to hunt down what was left of Chaos’ children, that they could no longer micro-manage the state of the Realms. Could no longer constantly overstep their authority and keep their tasteless ‘Order’. 
The Realms had become more and more lively and Clockwork had found himself in a perpetual good mood. He took a cookie for himself. Nocturn caught him baking the other day; his expression had been dry as he congratulated Clockwork on his adoption. It was  a pointed accusation. 
He had shoved it to the back of his mind and decided to make some forgoent tea to go with the cookies. He hadn’t offered any to Nocturn. 
Daniel paused in his musings for a moment before speaking again, his voice careful. “I’ve been visiting Pariah.”
Clockwork hummed, not looking away from his screens. “I am aware.”
“Of course you are.” Daniel rolled his eyes. Then he sighed like he didn't know how to bring up what he was going to say next. “Did you… Did you know he was going to get free if you sent me after that key?” 
Ah, so he’d figured it out then. “It was a possibility. Each and every choice you make creates an entirely new future with entirely new consequences.” 
“He doesn’t seem all that bad…” Daniel argued, as if Clockwork was going to disagree with him. Clockwork raised an eyebrow, the one with the scar Pariah had given him, and looked over to him. “I mean, he just. When he first woke up he was really mad right? But like, I’d also be really mad if I finally woke up from a forced coma only to have Vlad there.”
Anyone would really. 
“And even though he sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone, no one actually ended up getting hurt. At least, no more than usual in a ghost attack. And I’ve been talking with the other ghosts that have been ‘Challenging’ him and they all say he's a pretty cool teacher… Like, he knows how to fight and he’s good at showing them how they can use their unique powers-”
Clockwork didn’t interrupt Daniel as he rambled. It was rare, at least since he’d been deposed, to hear lists of Pariah’s more positive aspects. It wasn’t uncomfortable so much as mildly frustrating. Was this part of Pariah’s ploy? Get Daniel to fall all over himself to recite poetics about Pariah to Clockwork. He should have learned by now that whatever affection he might hold for him, it would not be enough. Not to stop his plans, and certainly not to stop the others.
“So uh, you know, he seems… chiller. Without the crown and ring and stuff.”
“Yes, it was the Ring of Rage Daniel, what did you think it was used for?” 
There was a small imperceptible shift in Daniel’s expression, as if he’d realized something and made the choice to file the knowledge away for later. He must have learned that from Pariah as well. “So, if there’s things that can change even powerful ghosts like Pariah, are there things that could change, say… one of the Ancients?”
Was Daniel befriending another Ancient? Clockwork smiled, that was good then. He could hold that against them, the weight of his failure to keep an emotional distance wouldn’t be as stark, if another Ancient or two fell just as easily to Daniel’s pleasant company. He could use that, he simply had to find out which of them it was. Perhaps Sojourn? He was always soft for children, but Clockwork hadn’t been aware of him returning to the Barrens lately, and Daniel rarely went any further than the Time Locked Lands or the Far Frozen. 
“It is good to befriend others Daniel,” he says halfheartedly, searching through his mirrors to locate Sojourn, “but remember not to trust too easily. You never know the goals of those around you, if they might be using you towards their own ends.”
“Of course,” Daniel replied, his voice hard. 
Clockwork looked over to him, he was staring at the dregs of his tea, expression dark. 
“Would you like more tea?” Clockwork offered, wondering what had plummeted the boy’s attitude so suddenly. 
Daniel looked up, a small smile on his lips, “Yes Please.”
Clockwork left to make more, his mind still trying to find which Ancient Daniel had befriended. 
  “The Observants are completely ignorant of your machinations,” Pariah said as Clockwork entered his study. “Of course, they don’t know you as well as they think.”
Clockwork should stop visiting him. Should never have started, a fact that Nocturn was only too happy to remind him of. Sometimes Clockwork wondered if Nocturn got his taste of Chaos from Clockwork's mistakes, he seemed so dedicated to reveling in them. 
“I didn’t come here to talk about the Observants. I have my fill without the need to remark upon them when absent from their presence.” Clockwork was scowling. He could hide his irritation, but despite his lies and trickery he was hardly an accomplished actor. 
Pariah chuckled, flipping another page in the thick book he’d been reading. The title was faded, but Clockwork recognized it easily enough. It was a detailed history of the Infinite Realms after King Dark had been sealed away. It was a long history, though not as long as the history that came before his reign entirely. 
It was also the exact kind of thing Pariah would read cover to cover, like the obsessive monster he was. 
“I suppose you came to warn me away from your ward then?” Pariah asked, his voice casual. Clockwork scoffed, allowing a roll of his eyes before floating over to Pariah’s shelves and grabbing one of the books that looked recently used. It was about old soul binding rituals, much like what had happened to Fright Knight. It was amusing, the thought that Pariah’s oldest friend might still be whining about his little curse. 
“Hardly,” Clockwork said, idly flipping through the pages, “if I could control Daniel I never would have let him near you to begin with.”
Pariah smiled, placing his own book down. “Yes, I imagine you wouldn’t have. It would be a mistake to let me get close to him and realize he is the reason the Infinite Realms have started to sing.”
He’d figured it out then. Of course that wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility. Unlike the Observants, Pariah was wickedly intelligent and fully capable of coming to the appropriate conclusions. “Sing? An interesting way to describe it.”
Arms encircled his waist and Clockwork was pulled back into a warm chest. Pariah’s chin rested on Clockwork’s shoulder as he spoke softly into his ear. “Is it enough? The realms feel alive, weaker ghosts are fleeing or banding together once more. It resembles the time we once had, between Chaos and Order. Will you stop here?”
“There’s nothing more I can do,” he lied. 
Pariah hummed an agreement and reached out to flip a few pages through the book Clockwork had been holding. There was a beautifully illustrated drawing of a necklace, bewitched and layered in curses. Pariah must have memorized the pages, of course. “Would you wear jewelry if I made it for you? I would see you decked in gold and finery if I could.”
Clockwork slammed the book closed, just missing Pariah’s fingers. He didn’t think about the earrings Pariah had once gifted him, or how he wore them even now, dangling hidden beneath his hood. “You should know better than to ask that.” 
He felt a smile against his neck. “Then I won’t ask.”
  He held the Thermos in his hand. 
The other Daniel was a menace, truly. But he would not be so desperate to ruin Daniel’s life anymore. It had been long enough for him to realize that his existence was no longer predicated on Daniel’s decisions, or on the loss of his family. 
It would change him, of course. The knowledge that he exists in the same time as his once family will either soften his grief, or sharpen its edges. There were so many paths he could take, and Clockwork could not see them all, did not bother to look much further than the distance he needed him for. 
There was something more important than his grief that he and Clockwork had in common. Something Daniel and Pariah likely had in common with them as well: the detestation of the Observants. 
Clockwork opened the thermos, releasing Daniel’s worst nightmare and not thinking about how the young half-ghost had given it to him so easily, had trusted him so quickly when all Clockwork had done was protect his human family one time. 
The other, once possible, Daniel appeared in an explosion of light and matter and immediately attacked, using his claws to scratch at Clockwork’s face. He was prepared for that though, years trapped in a thermos had eroded much of Dan’s more refined aspects. It would work in Clockworks favor of course, he had made sure of that.
For now, Clockwork froze time and moved behind him. That way his wild attack would meet nothing but ambient ectoplasm and Clockwork could speak his piece. Provided his piece took less than a second to speak.
He allowed time to flow and watched as the other Daniel floundered, confused, only to instantly realize just what Clockwork had done and turn around, ready to attack once more. Clockwork smiled as their eyes met and asked, “Would you like to End the Observants and their Order?”
the other Daniel attacked him, but Clockwork could see the consideration in his eyes. The thought had been implanted, now all he had to do was sit back and watch. the other Daniel had always been rather good at ruining things after all. 
“CLOCKWORK!” Daniel yelled, flying frantically into the Clocktower. “Clockwork Dan escaped somehow! He attacked Amity Park!” 
His desperate flight slowed when he saw Clockwork floating casually at his screens as he always had. He was watching a specific screen now, and pulled the image onto the largest one to share with Daniel. “Yes, I know.”
Daniel looked between him and the screen, his expression growing more and more confused. “But, he was here though. Locked up. How did he escape?”
Clockwork didn’t turn to look at him. “I’m sorry Daniel,” he lied. “Your trust in me was misplaced. He escaped while I was distracted with another matter and I was unable to stop him. It’s my fault.”
Daniel’s eyes widened, searching for something in Clockwork’s expression, and then in Clockwork’s screens. The only thing he saw though, was the other Daniel causing havoc and destruction. After visiting Amity Park and re-traumatising Daniel’s sister, the other Daniel had been driven away by Daniel, whose power had become far superior in the time since they had last met. It was only natural of course, Daniel’s existence was unique and far beyond that of Dan’s mangled pieced together form of conflicting obsessions and damaged cores. 
It was possible, Clockwork knew, for the other Daniel to stabilize properly. Perhaps he could become a proper ghost, perhaps he could stop attempting to restrict what humanity he had left. Either way, it did not matter in the end. If anything, his existence was a fun riddle that would play itself out long after Clockwork’s plans came to fruition. 
Clockwork looked over at Daniel, his expression hidden behind the shadows of his hood. The boy was staring emptily at the corner of the Clocktower that led to the inner dungeons where the other Daniel had been hidden away.  After a moment he turned away, hiding his own expression, and began to walk. As if his legs had become too heavy to fly. 
“It’s fine. I’ll get him back. It won’t happen again.” There was a promise in his voice and it softened to be almost inaudible entirely. “I won’t let it.”
After he left, Clockwork turned back to the screen with the other Daniel on it. He was finished terrorizing the ghost from before, and was now floating listlessly in the void of the Infinite Realms. Likely, he was warring with his obsessions- or his emotions- it was hard to tell which. Eventually though, he shook his head, looked up as if to catch Clockwork’s eye, and flew off.
In the direction of the Observants. 
  It’s eyeball was glaring at him, the normally dull yellow of it’s sclera bright with fury. “You were given responsibility over him! You were entrusted to keep him from destroying the Realms!”
Clockwork’s own eye twitched as he fought back an eyeroll. Those who Watch were as predictable as ever, not showing up at the moment of Dan’s release but instead at the moment he began to take his rage out on the Observants. Their responsibilities had always been superfluous though, a vague excuse to do as they pleased in the name of Order. 
“I failed. He escaped. Woe is me.” He floated over to one of his more intricate gadgets and began to tinker with it, pretending to be busy. “Surely an Order such as yours, full of powerful ghosts that command the Realms, did not come to me in fear though? He attacked you directly, does that not make your vow of inaction void?”
“ You-! ”
“Of course, it would be different if you simply couldn’t defeat him. But… he’s only a decade dead. That would be an embarrassment.”
The other Observant that had come to scold (and demand his servitude) floated in front of its companion so as to cut off a likely incensed reaction. “He’s an abomination, and an amalgamation. Surely you can understand why we wanted him dealt with before it came to this.”
Clockwork inclined his head, playing at civility. “Perhaps then, you should seek to work alongside Phantom. I have it on relatively good authority he’s also trying to deal with your resident menace.”
Both of the Observants took his suggestion as an insult, one even growing red with it. “That Abomination? He should be destroyed along with it!”
“Pity,” Clockwork said, turning back to the screens and watching as the other Daniel tore the core out of another Observant’s chest and crushed it in his palm. He wasn’t even absorbing them for their power. It was a waste, but Clockwork was certain it was a waste born of trauma. Dan’s creation had, after all, been due to a botched absorption with a powerful ghost core. “You can leave now.”
“You must deal with this.”
“I will deal with it when the time is right,” he said in lieu of an answer. 
The Observants, disgruntled and unwilling to leave, as if hiding in Clockwork’s lair would somehow protect them, made comment after comment demanding his action and threatening punishment should he fail. He replied with sarcasm and an aloof attitude that soon had them leaving out the door if only to try and do what they could to tighten his bonds. 
He sighed, there was time still. He should make cookies, that always seemed to calm him, help him to exist in the present and not become impatient for what is yet to be. He headed to the kitchen, only to see an unexpected visitor at his table. 
“Nocturn, you’re early.”
The other Ancient nodded. “Yes, your plan seems to have worked flawlessly. The Authority of the Observants has been shaken. Much of the power they had gained through fear and reputation has dwindled, but…”
Clockwork raised an eyebrow as he opened his cabinets. There was egyptian sand flour left over, it would be dryer than using something more modern, but the age would add a good aftertaste. He just needed to add extra Honey-Wasp bits from the outskirts of The Undergrowth and that should balance it. Maybe some purified ectoplasm. Pariah gifted him a jar after he had somehow managed to create a device to filter it from the Infinite Realms. 
He had also made an absolutely unsubtle offer to join him in his new ‘sauna’ that Clockwork had pointedly refused. 
“But?” he prompted, there was little information he could glean from silence. 
Nocturn watched him prepare the batter. He sighed and stood, grabbing a knife and helping to mince the Honey-Wasps before speaking again. “But they still have their numbers, and much of their actual power. And Clockwork, Pariah has made his move.”
“I know,” Clockwork admitted, “but is that not in our favor as well?”
“Not if he takes more power from them, Pariah on his own is not a fight we can accept lightly. Anything more being beholden to him is hardly something I wish to see.” 
Clockwork cracked a Kraken’s egg into the mixture and moved the bowl closer to Nocturn so he could scoop the Honey-Wasp bits into it as well, without losing any of the juice. Mixing it would be troublesome, some of the more experimental batters attempted to gain sentience and would try to escape the bowl. “It will work in our favor either way. the other Daniel caused havoc, their power was broken across the realms. Pariah is merely salting the ground we have burned.” 
He used a dull knife to cut into the batter and stirred, stopping any attempts at formation. Nocturn grabbed the bowl from him, forcing eye contact. “What if he seeks something else?”
“Haven’t I already escaped the chains he bound me in before?” Clockwork laughed. “Do I not have allies that would find short work of cutting chains that I did not allow to bind me?”
The bowl was set back down and Clockwork and Nocturn both made short work of dividing the dough and setting it into the oven. “We could not break the bindings of the Observants,” Nocturn said as Clockwork closed the oven door. 
“That is different, that was part of our plans. They needed to never suspect me, if we were to get this far.” Clockwork waved him off. “Would you like a cookie?”
“We have to wait for them to cook, Clockwork.” Nocturn said, exasperated.
Clockwork simply rolled his eyes and increased the time surrounding the oven. “I don’t wait.”
Daniel hadn’t visited again since Clockwork allowed the other Daniel  to escape. It was possible, he admitted in the back of his mind, that Daniel blamed him for what happened. As well he should. Yet, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth. 
He was watching the screens again. Aiming them in every direction he could to see everything as it played out. Most were occupied by the remnants of the Order he had set about decimating. A few were dedicated to their interconnected Lair, the place where they held their play courts and kept their prisoners. It was where they kept Vortex before he was freed. One screen though, was aimed at Pariah’s Keep. 
It had been a simple thing that Clockwork had neither encouraged nor discouraged, Daniel’s visits with Pariah. But now that Clockwork’s own visits had come to an end, it had become something distinctly bitter, a feeling that was building in his chest, where his core hummed, that Clockwork was ignoring with all the practice of a man dead set on his goals. 
Daniel would visit again, of course. Clockwork could even tell the exact date and time, or at least the most likely ones. He didn’t look at the futures where Daniel never came back, there was no point in uselessly fretting about it. He’d be fine, there were more important things to deal with now. 
He could feel the pressure of his binds loosening as more and more of the Observants were hunted down. Not all of them were ended by Dan, of course. They had made many enemies. Both Vortex and Undergrowth had gone out of their way to visit quite a number themselves, along with a few of the other Ancients. Clockwork was certainly tempted to do so, alas, the restrictions upon him prevented it still. And the only way for those restrictions to end was for those wielding the reins to End. And well, then there wouldn’t be anyone left to take his ire out upon would there? 
Instead he allowed his own part in their demise to be enough for his bruised ego and the millennia of torment he’d undergone beneath them. Then he ate a cookie and kept watch of his screens. 
Pariah was teaching Daniel how to use a sword. Pandora had attempted to teach him swordsmanship but Daniel had been disinclined to it. He wasn’t particularly elegant to be fair, and the finesse and practiced movement of Pandora’s sword was more akin to an art than anything else. Her limbs risked entanglement if she wasn’t careful and had developed a style suited to such. 
Daniel was much more inclined to blunt, ferocious movements. He often thought with his fist before anything else, even as a ghost with a multitude of powers to command. He used speed and strength to win and outmaneuver his opponents and despite his lack of polish, he often won due to those two traits alone. Pariah was a talented teacher, in that he was clearly taking what Daniel had already in ample supply, and taught him how to wield it appropriately to its maximum use. 
He was still only beginning of course, but Daniel was a fast learner and had grown significantly in a short period of time. 
Clockwork had toyed with the idea of taking Daniel on as an official apprentice once or twice before. Teaching him how to exist beyond the means which he had become accustomed to as a human. While he would not have Clockwork’s inclination for time specifically, Daniel’s connection to the Realms would allow him a level of control over his surroundings and the beings that exist in them that simply does not exist in anyone outside of the Ancients. And even then, Clockwork’s Time was different enough from the others’ domains to be unique in and of itself in a similar vein to Daniel’s powers. Even if they’d only just barely begun to show. 
But it was a risk to do so before everything else came to fruition. If Daniel realized his plans, it would be troublesome. He likely would not agree to the lengths Clockwork is willing to reach, and more than that, there is no guarantee that his existence as half human would not have him attempting to side with Order over Chaos. No, it was better to wait and see how it all played out first. There wasn’t much left to do before the end. 
Yes it would lead to anger. Perhaps even to hatred. It would be fitting for Clockwork. He had never known a love that had yet to turn. That had truly been any kind of unconditional. 
But he would be free. 
Finally, finally free. 
Free from this horrid linear existence, free from his servitude, free from his bonds. The root of him, the core, had been born from Chaos, from the mess of all things and no things, and like any child wishing to cradle in the arms of its mother, Clockwork longed once more for it. 
He had been patient, as had the others. There was little left to do. 
  When Daniel finally visited again Clockwork had made cookies. 
They resembled human chocolate chips, if one squinted, and Clockwork had made sure to take them out of the oven just as Daniel arrived so they would be warm.
“There you are Daniel,” he greeted. The cookies were still moving and he had to give the tray he was holding a bit of a shake to get them to stop. He doubted Daniel would eat them if he thought they were alive. 
The boy didn’t look well. He had deep bags under his eyes, and a skittish, weary look about him. 
Clockwork clicked his tongue. “You need to sleep,” he said, not waiting for Daniel to speak. 
“What?” The boy lifted his head, confused. 
“I said, you should sleep.” Clockwork grabbed one of the amulets from the wall and placed it around Daniel’s neck. “I’ll stop time for a few hours, you can sleep here if you want.”
Daniel just blinked. “Oh.”
Nodding, Clockwork turned back to his screens so he could keep watch. Nocturn had warned that Pariah was making his move and Clockwork was determined to keep an eye on him now, when the timing was most crucial. 
He felt a tug on his sleeve. 
“Clockwork…”
He looked down to catch Daniel’s eyes. “Yes?”
“Nothing,” he sighed, “thanks.” He grabbed the amulet in one hand, a torn expression on his face. Then he floated off to the room Clockwork had given him to sleep.
Watching as his ward wandered off, Clockwork waited until he was out of sight to grab hold of time and let it rest for a moment. It was the least he could do. 
It wasn’t long after their fall that the final thread snapped and Clockwork opened his eyes in triumph. Everything was available to him now. There were no hidden futures, no shrouded pasts. His screens multiplied around him as even his Lair was freed from its limits. Like a beast stretching from a long hibernation, Clockwork lost himself to his Obsession, revelled in the freedom he had long gambled away. 
The Infinite Realms felt it as he left the Clocktower for no reason other than because he wanted to and he didn’t have to ask. He didn’t have to come up with some convoluted reason as to why this was perfectly acceptable before his own body allowed him to leave the doors of his own Lair. It felt wonderful, he almost took down his hood to see everything around him with the eyes of a free spirit. 
He didn’t though, it would be too much of a hassle to wrangle his hair back and he didn’t really want someone to see him so freely bared. It was enough in every way, that he was finally free. 
“I almost forgot how powerful you were, Clockwork.” He turned to see Misery Vex, lounging comfortably just outside his lair. “The Eyes Around Us are gone then?”
Clockwork nodded, looking to the future, looking to the past. She had been waiting here for him, but not for long. And she wouldn’t have waited much longer. “Are you ready for what happens next?” he asked. 
“Are you?”
He nodded again. There weren’t any more preparations to make, how could he be anything but ready?
They didn’t meet at the Clocktower this time. 
It was no longer necessary after all. This time they met in the night. The soft evening of eternal sleep and dreams, Nocturn’s lair. It was spacious if nothing else, and creative with its decoration. Should one of them wish to sit, they merely needed to chance sitting and see if the space around them would accommodate. It suited him immensely. 
“Have you found her yet?” Misery asked.
Sojourn nodded, a small enthusiastic smile hidden under his beard. “Yes, Clockwork and I were able to locate her shattered core amongst Pandora’s boxes.”
“ It will not be easy to receive her, and it will only be more difficult to revive her,” Nocturn warned, “especially if we wish to keep this to ourselves. Rather than risk the entirety of the realms turning on us as they did the Observants.”
Clockwork nodded, “we shouldn’t do much in more than pairs. Sojourn and Misery should seek Pandora. Nocturn and I can set the ritual once the pieces are complete.”
“And the rest of us?” Undergrowth scowled, he hated Nocturn’s lair. It was cold and empty, barren of any more physical matters and there was nowhere for him to take root. Clockwork suspected half of the reason it was that way was intended to irritate Undergrowth specifically. 
Sojourn clapped his hands together and smiled, his eagerness truly knew no bounds and his obvious delight was nearly infectious. “You’re our escape plan of course! We’ll need help once we locate the right box, Pandora’s obsession is hardly a good one to be on the wrong side of.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Vortex grinned.
Clockwork couldn’t help but agree, what are they waiting for indeed? 
  “What is Chaos, Clockwork?” Daniel asked. But Clockwork was distracted.
He hadn’t expected Daniel to show up today, he hadn’t paid attention to it. There was so much to do, so much to get ready for. The time was now after all. 
He took care to answer anyways, the changes that were to come would affect the boy. At least a little. He was strong enough that he would thrive in Chaos, and it would help to nurture his Obsession, if the weaker denizens of the Realms needed help. And they would
“Chaos was the first, how it all began. Everything started with Chaos or nothing could have been at all.” 
Daniel frowned, a small furrow in his brow. “That… didn’t really-“
Clockwork paused for a moment. “Is something wrong Daniel?”
He sighed. “So if you were made from Chaos, is she like, your mother?”
“No. Chaos is not sentient so much as conceptual.” Clockwork frowned, “though I suppose she predated concepts as well if she was the first. Chaos was neither one thing nor many things. It’s safe to say Chaos was everything and everything came from her. But that did not make her nurturing” 
Clockwork looked back at Daniel, letting time flow smoothly once more. It wouldn’t do to delay. 
There was a hint of something in Daniel’s eyes, a wariness that Clockwork had never seen before. It must have been due to their conversation, but Clockwork couldn’t place what about it would have Daniel on edge. Chaos would not be any more a threat to him than it would be the other Ancients. 
“Clockwork, if Chaos came back…” he paused, as if the words had been stuck in his throat, “what would happen to the humans? The mortals?” 
What a strange question. “Life would not exist as it does now, utter chaos would not permit it.”
It had been something of a sport, to watch Sojourn and Misery in their attempts to find and excavate the remnants of the Core of Chaos. Clockwork and Nocturn had watched it from the safety and comfort of Clockwork’s lair, on the largest of his screens. 
“They’re having fun aren’t they?” Nocturn mused, taking a sip of his tea. He’d made it himself in Clockwork’s kitchen, had been insistent about it when he’d seen Clockwork start to make his own.
“Pandora is a valiant warrior and a good fighter. Misery has been on the sidelines for some time since the end of Pariah’s court.” Clockwork’s tea was cold. He frowned and set it aside.
“Yes, it’s good to see her stretching her limbs. I hadn’t seen all of them since her last fight.”
Clockwork thought back, the fight Nocturn was referring to played on one of the smaller screens. It was a gladiator based competition, where Pariah had sent her as a member of his court to show his power. She had challenged the Lord of Little Crawlers to a duel and shredded him to pieces before even five minutes had passed. Then she had collected herself, reset her veil, and gone right back to Pariah’s Keep. 
Now she was using every extra limb she could against Pandora, swords clashing with long knitting needles and strings of silk. Watching the fight was mesmerizing to be sure, almost akin to a dance, if not for the frustrated vulgarities being thrown around and Sojourn’s overly eager cheering from the back.
“Do you think they’ll make it?”
“Sojourn will remember what they’re supposed to be doing when he almost drops one of the boxes held in his arms. Upon that realization he will sneak away while Pandora is distracted and meet with the others. From there they will come here with their spoils and it will be our turn to prove our worth.” Clockwork answered, easily detailing the future ahead of them. 
Nocturn nodded and took a sip of his tea.
  It didn’t happen exactly like Clockwork had predicted. But it was close enough. Sojourn had bypassed Vortex and Undergrowth completely and simply flown straight to Clockwork‘s lair on his own. Nocturn spared Clockwork a glance, but he remained unaffected. It was still on track to be an ideal future. 
Once Sojourn entered his lair Clockwork grabbed hold of time with his hand and twisted , forcing it to bend and still under his palm. The trip to the Cave was only a step after that and once there, he let loose and released time to settle amicably around them.
“Amazing,” Sonourn said, “I do think I’d like to travel this way more often. It’s quite convenient.”
Nocturn patted him on the shoulder and grabbed one of the delicately detailed boxes he’d been balancing precariously in his arms. “You’d need to be very careful if you did, there’s no telling what might get caught up in all that twisting and turning.”
“It won’t matter much longer after this,” Clockwork said, taking his own box. 
The entirety of Chaos was not here, her core long since mostly destroyed, but there was enough to recreate something should they use the ritual they had devised. 
It needed to be hidden, so they had found a cave. It was ancient, and once thought to be a reliable doorway into the spiritual and mortal realms, every wall was covered in ancient arts and writings. No rhyme or reason between them, a bit of a mess conceptually, but perfect for their purposes. Once Vortex had destroyed it in the mortal realm, it had been simple enough to recreate, especially using Undergrowth and Misery Vex’s powers. 
Most ghosts dared not travel here, where they placed it. It was a deeper part of the Infinite Realms, where the pressures of the ambient ectoplasm was strong enough to kill even some of the more stable spirits, certainly more than any Watcher could have ever handled. 
Clockwork gathered the ashes in the center of their chosen chamber. Three rights from the first left. Nocturn moved around the edges, the walls solid and firm under his hands as he tested them. And Sojourn, setting his own box aside, lit the flames. 
It began. 
They had known the work would be hard, tedious even. Most mortals, when they picture rituals like this, imagine chanting and holding hands, perhaps some use of indomitable will. But this was far more personal, more hands on.
Clockwork took the broken edge of a shattered piece of core, and began to mold it, shaping and soothing it into a puzzle-like shape. He had spent time looking into human carpentry practices, and had come across the traditional Chinese techniques of Lu Ban. 
It had taken more than a human lifetime to learn it properly and then suit it to his own needs, but he put it into practice now, shaping the shattered pieces anew and slotting them together so that they might fit and stay snug.
Sojourn had weaved together layer after layer of treated ectoplasm into a fine cloth and was now sewing it into a fitted dress, each stitch small and tidy, seamless against the weave. 
The one who stoked the flame, who kept its energy strong and the newly forming core well fed, was Nocturn. He kept a measured gaze upon it, not once turning away or getting distracted. 
This continued for an eternity, the creation, or recreation, of something both ancient and now new was exhaustive work. But eventually, Clockwork felt a hum. A small, weak thing that would have left him breathless had he needed to breathe. 
Chaos was born again, though faint, though weak. Not anything close to what she once was, but still, she was there, feeding on the flames of her own ashes, pieces of her own core held together and finally finding life. 
They needed to keep going. This was delicate work, if they got distracted, if there was even one misstep, it would be over. Chaos would be what she is now, what they made of her, and not what she needed to be. 
The fire went out.
“ Damn ,” Nocturn hissed, quickly turning to look around. He did not bother to relight the flame, it was too late. Clockwork felt hollow, had they truly failed? But how? 
He acted quickly, bundling the newly formed and still fragile core into Sojourn’s half sewn garment and thrusting it fully into the other Ancient’s hands. 
“You are the fastest of us, run, hide her away before we lose her entirely.” Sojourn nodded solemnly, flying quickly through the winding tunnels that led out of the cave. 
Nocturn scowled, “whoever is there should be glad I am merciful. Come out now and I shall forgo eternal torment for a quick End.”
There was only silence. 
Clockwork was growing irritated himself and looked to the future, only to see Nocturn tackled into a wall by a familiar black and white blur. 
“Daniel?!” He said, his thoughts screeching to a halt. But, there was no way. He couldn’t have followed them. He would have had to know about the cave and been lying in wait for the exact moment to-
There was a soft sound, like the clinking of a delicate chain, as Clockwork felt a weight upon his neck. All at once he felt the universe stand still, as if he had been trapped in the moment, the singular moment no longer able to spread himself beyond. It was cloying, claustrophobic. Something he never thought he’d experience again. 
And he knew who was behind it. 
“You’ve always been impatient my dear.” Pariah spoke softly, his lips far too close. 
Clockwork fled, slipping between moments to force space between them almost on instinct alone. Pariah simply let him go, a smug smile on his face. No, he wasn’t supposed to be here. How did he know about this place?
What had he placed on Clockwork’s neck?
He lifted a hand, not taking his eyes off of Pariah in case he decided to get any closer, and felt around his neck. It was a chain, delicate and just long enough to have slid over his head and dangle its pendant at a point on his chest, just above the glass. The shape of it was vaguely familiar, but Clockwork couldn’t place it.
“What have you done to me?” he asked, using anger to hide the tremble in his voice.
Pariah’s expression softened and he took a step forward. “Did I not say I would see you decked in gold?”
No…
The necklace…
It had been a cursed necklace, layered in charms meant for protection that slowly twisted into possession and control. It shouldn’t have been strong enough to cause any trouble at all to Clockwork, if something this simple had worked, Pariah would have used it long ago in the peak of his madness. 
Clockwork grabbed the chain, intending to rip it off, but Pariah spoke, startling him. “I wouldn’t, you’ll only hurt yourself.”
“Then why did you put it on me?” he tugged at the chain in emphasis, without his strength. Pariah never warned for no reason. 
The bastard smiled, like Clockwork had asked a stupid question, one he should know the answer to. Clockwork scowled, and moved further away from him. His back hit a wall. The cave, while earlier it had been comforting, a sign that eternal chaos was close at hand, that all Clockwork had done was paying off in the end, it was now more reminiscent of a stone cage. 
A trap.
He’d walked straight into a trap, one Pariah had been laying since he awoke. And Clockwork had never paid it any heed, had not bothered with his machinations because he assumed Pariah would be too slow, had thought whatever he did would be too weak. He had underestimated him, and now Pariah Dark was walking towards him, a lion stalking its prey.
Clockwork froze time.
He was still moving. Clockwork had frozen time and Pariah was still moving . 
It shouldn’t have been possible, there was nothing restricting Clockwork’s power in that way. He felt the threads of all existence tangled around him, grabbed the ones moving forward and tugged, sharp, desperate, to keep them still. He felt them still. 
Pariah kept moving though. 
“How-?” Everything else had frozen, all around them was silence and the only things that moved were the two of them. It was a strange kind of dance, one stepping closer and the other floating away. 
“I made it myself, the charm. It ties you to me, obviously.” Pariah caught him, gently because he didn’t need to use force, didn’t need to use any of the almost limitless strength behind him. “It’s based off the contract you signed with the Observants, I hadn’t honestly expected it to be so blatantly one sided when I read it. Though I suppose it was on purpose, a miscalculation on your part, in the end.”
Clockwork pulled his hand away, but Pariah simply moved with the action and stepped closer, crowding against him. “It doesn’t work like that,” Clockwork said through clenched teeth. A one-sided contract that gave away so much of himself was necessary. It was also only possible because Clockwork had signed it. Pariah couldn’t mimic that without Clockwork’s consent, that wasn’t how it worked. That wasn’t how any of this was supposed to work. 
Pariah hummed in agreement. “It wouldn’t be, if that was all I did.” He brushed a lock of hair from Clockwork’s eyes. “The Order of the Observants was in chaos. They were desperate. They wanted someone powerful to protect them. They were willing to give anything for the possibility they might find safety.”
Then he pulled out a medallion of his own, a horribly familiar one.
Oh.
So that was all it took…
Pariah was right, it had been a miscalculation indeed. 
“Even if they gave me to you, the contract dissolved with the Order. I felt it break.” 
“It did,” Pariah took hold of one of Clockwork’s hands and held it to his lips in a kiss, “But I had you for long enough. Long enough to bind you to myself instead. All it took was some craftswork.”
He let go of Clockwork’s hand to touch the pendant hanging from his neck instead. It was a gentle, reverent touch, as if thanking the damned thing for its work in keeping Clockwork trapped for him. “Luckily I was up to date on all the most prominent binding curses. I have a friend who suffers from such an affliction after all.”
“Fuck you.” 
Pariah laughed, a genuine surprised chuckle that truly lit him up from the inside. His eyes were so warm, his hands burned like brands, and Clockwork wanted nothing more than to tear out his other eye with his teeth. “Come Clockwork, you’ve failed. Let’s go home.” 
  Pariah led him back to the Clocktower, his lair. His home and prison. Clockwork stormed past him once they were inside. “And what is your plan now? I can’t imagine I’d be much use in subjecuting the Realms, as you can see I’m quite traitorous by nature. All of my previous masters can attest.”
“Then it’s good I’m keeping you for your sense of humor,” Pariah said as he closed the door behind him. 
It was the first time Pariah Dark had ever been inside Clockwork’s lair. Pariah had always been a cautious ghost, it made sense that he wouldn’t allow himself the vulnerability of being inside another powerful ghost’s lair, a place where they quite literally held all of the power and had all of the control. 
The irony of course, was that the moment Pariah had stepped inside, it was Clockwork that felt vulnerable. Exposed like a raw nerve, every part of him standing on end, tightly coiled and ready to flee. 
“How is this exactly how I have always envisioned it?” Pariah says dryly, his eyes roaming freely, invasively over every nook and cranny. Every randomly placed cog and haphazard ticking machine. It was a chaotic mess, naturally, it was Clockwork. 
Clockwork picked up a twentieth century alarm clock and weighed it in his hands before chucking it as hard as he could towards Pariah. The bastard caught it, of course. And Clockwork scowled.
“Did you often picture yourself waltzing into my Lair?”
Pariah set the clock down carefully, as if it would break. As if it were truly a piece of Clockwork himself. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t have. You were certainly at home in mine.”
“Oh please, half the Realms has access to your Lair. We are not the same.” Clockwork scoffed, crossing his arms and floating awkwardly in the middle of the room. He didn’t want to be any closer to Pariah, but neither did he want to risk being backed into a wall again . It seemed a recurring treat for Pariah, to cage him in that way. 
There was a touch of mischief in Pariah’s smile when he replied. “Perhaps we can change that, would you like more visitors?”
“No.”
“Pity.”
Clockwork grabbed another trinket to throw, this one he had pried from the walls. Pariah handled that just as easily, an uncomfortable expression aimed at the destroyed part of Clockwork’s wall. He was truly the most obnoxious perfectionist. If Clockwork’s mangled mess of a lair was going to bother him he shouldn’t have bothered to come inside.
In fact, if he was going to be disappointed so easily he shouldn’t have chained him in the first place. It wasn’t as if the bindings guaranteed something like loyalty. They couldn’t even force him to act should he not wish to. Clockwork wasn’t going to change from how he had been for eons under the damn Eyes. 
“Why did you do this?” Clockwork asked, “And don’t dare say it’s only because you said you would. You may be meticulous but you are not beholden to simple words.”
Pariah had fixed his wall. And was now attempting to reinstate the very same decoration Clockwork had used as ammunition. It was strangely domestic to see and Clockwork felt rage simmer and build. Would he simply make himself at home then? Perhaps he would seek to combine their lairs in a twisted amalgamation so that he might seek order where it damn well did not belong.
“You were going to leave.” 
What a useless excuse. “Did you lose your ability to reason permanently to that crown?”
This time it was Pariah that rolled his eyes. “Obviously not, if I was able to out-fox Clockwork of all ghosts.”
“You had help.” Clockwork said through grit teeth. He wouldn’t ask who, he didn’t think he could handle having it confirmed.
Pariah’s eyes sparkled. “So you knew?”
“I figured it out.”
“Feeling very betrayed, Clockwork?” This time Pariah’s smile was sharp, a vicious little thing that certainly made him more recognizable as the fallen tyrant he actually was. 
Clockwork refused to rise to the bait. He did not regret, it was impossible to feel regret when every single decision he’d ever made had been so thoroughly calculated. “I wasn’t going to leave. Where would I even go, Pariah?”
“You were leaving me.” Pariah walked towards him, quicker than his usual slow prowl. Clockwork had chanced a step back himself but it only served to darken Pariah’s expression further so he stilled instead and allowed himself to be caught and held. Pariah’s hands were heavy, one landing on his hip and the other reaching for his wrist. “You were disappearing to the flows of Time, one minute here and the next somewhere no one could follow you. You speak of chaos and the freedom it would give you, but you lie to yourself when you say that is all that you desire. The freedom you had so desperately sought, how lonely would it have been.”
Pariah had not been able to talk after that, too busy weathering Clockwork’s sudden violent outrage. 
Nocturn was the first to visit him, to see Clockwork’s anger, his desperate lashing out. He had the same expression he’d always had when the topic of Pariah or Daniel had come up. The look of undisguised pity, as if he had known from the start that Clockwork would fail, that he would be chained in this way, the moment his freedom was closer than at any other time. 
“We do not hate you for your failure, Clockwork,” Nocturn said, and Clockwork bared his teeth. It had been sometime since he’d carved out an eye in petty vengeance but he was not above making it a hobby.
Nocturn simply kept his distance, just one step away with one of those damned medallions around his neck, stopping Clockwork from freezing him in place in his own lair. “You’ve always been easily twisted by affection, too willing to be tied down with familiarity.”
His words hurt, like an arrow piercing through Clockwork’s chest. He hadn’t thought it would be so literal, hadn’t taken Pariah’s threats seriously. Had believed, genuinely, that he would be able to escape whatever bonds Pariah had fashioned for him. Had not thought to protect himself thoroughly enough and now all was for naught. Nocturn said he harbored no ill will, but he should . 
And Clockwork was distraught that he did not. 
He deflated and Nocturn floated closer, just within range. But Clockwork’s arms hung heavy, and he was exhausted now, the weight of it all too much. “You should. Chaos is lost to us.” he spoke, his voice barely audible.
“Yes,” Nocturn acquiesced, “but Chaos was lost to us long ago. It was a child’s hope, that we could get it back.”
“You are content then? To rot in containment in an infinite realm of order and stability?”
A laugh escaped Nocturn, perplexing Clockwork and only flaring his temper worse. The other Ancient didn’t even try to hide as he fell into a laughing fit. “I would not be, no. But my oldest friend, I am not the one in containment. I have always known you look too much towards the forest and its tallest trees, very rarely have you ever noticed the grass or the leaves.”
“Speak sense,” Clockwork snapped. It was his job to speak in riddles, he had little patience to hear them now. 
Nocturn did not call him on his hypocrisy though, instead he shook his head and floated closer, relaxing next to Clockwork as if they were two friends taking tea. “It was not, as you believed, an all or nothing gamble.”
“Was it not?”
“No, the realms are back to Anarchy as they should be. The Observants were the last hold in their attempts to tame them, and they have been destroyed. There is no King, not even a sleeping one, and Chaos exists.”
Clockwork listened, the cold weight of failure that had settled in his chest chipped and cracked as Nocturn spoke on. “She does not exist as she had.”
“But perhaps this is a better way,” Nocturn pondered, “last time, Chaos reigned so supreme it seemed all were insistent to seek order. Then order reigned supreme and we sought Chaos. Perhaps now, with the Realms alive once more, and order and Chaos in balance, it will last instead.”
Nocturn placed a hand on the top of Clockwork’s head, petting his hair. “The other Ancients and I shall seek our fun, and find ways to exist in this new existence. It is only you, I am afraid, that will remain trapped.”
Clockwork slapped his hand away, “How comforting, Nocturn. Do you also go to the newly dead and tell them not to weep, at least they were the ones that died and not others?”
Nocturn’s hand returned to pull his hood down over his face and Clockwork had to slap it away again. “It is not in my perogative to comfort the newly dead. I thought only to inform my dearest friend that he had not earned my animosity. A fear he might have had, failing the plan we had painstakingly worked towards for eons.”
“I don’t want to be chained any longer.” Clockwork admitted. It had been so long since he’d had any semblance of freedom. Did he even know what it would feel like anymore?
“We know. Though some, like Misery Vex, believe it karmic, that your attachments, which had led so thoroughly to our defeat, came back in the forms of chains for you alone. But know that if one day it comes to pass that I can free you, unlikely as it may be, I shall make the attempt.” Nocturn stood, leaving Clockwork alone in his tower. 
“Clockwork?” It was Daniel’s voice. It was the first time his young ward had come to visit since the binding. It was not a comfort to hear his voice, to see that he was okay. It was not .
He didn’t acknowledge Daniel when he entered, wouldn’t have let him in the door if he still had complete control of his Lair… But he’d bargained that away long ago in a gamble that had failed him entirely. 
Instead he floated to his screens. Ever since the fall of the Observants, he could see properly at least. Pariah had no interest in obscuring his vision, had even less in controlling what it was he could see. Pariah’s only interest had been binding Clockwork to him so that he might not escape, so that he might not regress, so that he might not lose himself to the chaos of infinity and escape his limited existence.
Clockwork scowled, still ignoring Daniel’s presence, his attempts at conversation. Pariah’s interests should not have mattered. Because Pariah should not have won . Because Pariah had lost before and Clockwork had been so certain that he would again. Because- 
Because Clockwork had made a mistake when he sealed him away. Because Clockwork knew he could not bring himself to end him. Because Clockwork had seen an opportunity to see Pariah again and had known it would be a mistake but had wanted so desperately just to see him again. Wanted to see him free of the haze of anger the ring and crown had obscured him in, but a ghost’s natural state was obsessive. And Pariah had never hid his desire to keep Clockwork as he was, Clockwork had simply brushed it off as words of affection. He should have known better really, Pariah was hardly the type to speak lightly, and had never claimed what he did not mean with his entire core. 
The screen he was watching was boring, most things were now that he had no reason to keep track of the threads, no overarching plan to work towards. It was so simple. A young ghost was trick-or-treating with a watermelon instead of a pumpkin and was turning into a large candy-based monster whenever someone turned them away. 
It was the middle of summer where the ghost was, and Clockwork allowed himself to appreciate the tiny bit of chaos that the ghost was bringing to the small mortal town. Nocturn had told him that not all had been lost, Clockwork may be trapped, but Chaos had been released. 
Just enough. 
He sighed. 
“Why are you here Daniel?” he finally asked.
Daniel straightened up, he’d been rambling, no doubt in an attempt to cajole Clockwork into joining conversation or listening subconsciously. He hadn't been.
He was also carrying a plate of cookies that Clockwork had not seen, because Clockwork had not looked. When would he learn his lesson about that? Why was he always looking too late?
“I wanted to check on you,” Daniel said, setting the plate of cookies down now that he was sure Clockwork had seen them. “Pariah said you were… having a hard time.”
Clockwork scowled, too many things tearing at his chest at once. Damn Pariah, damn him . 
“Having a hard time?” he said with a false calm. “The plans that I made eons ago, plans that had been in work before your mortal realm even knew what time was, were ruined by someone I trusted. Someone I did not think would step so easily between me and my goals. Exactly what kind of time should I be having, chained to my own lair without even the authority to deny entrance to whom I wish?”
There had been a small flinch, Clockwork noticed, when he had mentioned betrayal. But if Daniel felt any guilt he didn’t look it. He raised his head, eyes full of determination. The very same expression Clockwork had seen through his screens so many times, in the fights against the other Ancients. The plans they’d made to make him stronger, to keep him stable, so that when the Chaos had been released he and the Realms with him would survive. 
He had certainly survived. 
“Pariah said this was the only way to save you.” Because of course that was what Pariah had told him. Because Daniel was intelligent, but Daniel was also a child and all too willing to trust any competent adult. A flaw that Clockwork himself had been so quick to take advantage of. A flaw that cursed him now. 
“Do you really believe that Pariah Dark has my best interest at heart?” he would have sneered, if it had been anyone else. If it hadn’t been Daniel, who was practically his own child. Instead, he asked softly, his frustration drowned entirely by exhaustion.
Daniel still answered him though. “You were changing Clockwork,” What? “The same way you told me Pariah had once changed.”
He hadn’t, there was no way it had been so obvious. He hadn’t, it wasn’t as if he had lost himself to his obsession, nor had he gained power that grew out of his control, what was he talking about?
“You were distant, as if you were struggling to stay in any given moment. Sometimes you’d forget everything going on around you, and others you seemed to be somewhere or some-when else entirely. I mean,” Daniel took a breath, “you’ve always been a bit cryptic, but you were losing yourself entirely . Halfway through a conversation you would start talking completely randomly, in languages long dead or unrecognizable. Or you’d start talking about things that had never happened or had happened forever ago.”
He was almost shouting now, his eyes shining with more than just energy and Clockwork felt a sting in his core. He had known that Daniel would disapprove, that he would get angry. But it had not occurred to him that his anger would be pointed towards this rather than his blatant manipulation of Daniel and his friends.
“And your actions! They were reckless, Clockwork!! Releasing Dan? What the hell?! ”
It was Clockwork’s turn to flinch. “Your future self’s release had always been part of the plan. It was why I had you leave him with me to start with. I was not losing myself Daniel, I was revealing who I actually am.”
Daniel made a desperately frustrated noise. “Do you think saying something like that is going to convince me we were wrong, Clockwork? I- I trusted you! I care about you! You’re-”
“So you’d cage me and try to force compliance so that the more unsightly aspects of myself can be filed away? So you can teach me to be better, like some kind of petty human criminal, Daniel?” He let his anger take over instead. It was easier, so much easier. It was what he had always done with Pariah. 
Daniel rolled his eyes. “How dramatic,” he said dryly, “Didn’t you do the same thing to Pariah, wasn’t what you did like way worse? You’re throwing a fit just like he said you would.”
“If you trust Pariah Dark so much, why are you even here? Have him make cookies for you. I'm sure he’s fully capable.” Clockwork wasn’t throwing a fit, he was angry. 
Daniel sighed, grabbing one of the cookies he’d brought. They had long gone cold, but it hardly mattered to Clockwork, he wouldn’t be eating them. “Pariah has a lot of faults, and there’s a bunch of things I don’t really like about him. He’s manipulative, methodical. He never lets me half ass anything and he’s really picky. He doesn’t actually care if a person dies or a ghost gets Ended, and we fight about that kind of stuff a lot. But…” he met Clockwork’s eyes, his expression looked hurt, heartbroken. Clockwork didn’t want to see it. Had never wanted to see Daniel like this.
“He’s never outright lied to me. I’ve been checking, ever since… Well. I don’t just trust anyone at their word anymore. So yeah okay, I know he’s manipulating me just like he was manipulating you, but he never lied to either of us about his intentions. He didn’t do what you did.”
Clockwork couldn’t look at him any more. He’d made so many mistakes. If he was truly destined to fail… He should never have revealed his true nature or intentions to the boy. His disappointment burned almost as much as the chain Pariah had placed around Clockwork’s neck.
It didn’t matter though, that Clockwork could not stand to see him, because Daniel flew towards him and grabbed his face gently, hands on either side of his cheeks. 
“I don’t trust you anymore, Clockwork, but I still love you. So does Pariah. We can fix this, okay?” Daniel said and Clockwork’s eyes widened at the threat. 
He had truly lost, hadn’t he?
145 notes · View notes
noaltbruh · 3 years
Note
I hope this follows the rules! But is it okay if I request a scenario where Giorno has a nightmare of turning into Diavolo and S/O comforts him when he wakes up?
My first request in so long, what an honor!
You're surely a fan of this scenario, I've seen you requesting it quite a lot of times.
Either way, let's get into it!
Esci dalla mia testa
06/04/2004
Midnight had just struck, it had already been three years.
Three years since Giovanna had become the new Don of Passione, and since the former had been punished for his actions.
But in reality, time had lost meaning to the young boy years ago. Everything he did, it felt so...Mechanic, so frivolous, simply keeping track of the days in order not to forget an important reunion.
He buried himself under thousands of piles of work, which only seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every day that passed. This was supposed to be his dream, his greatest goal, and he had reached it at such a young age.
But then...Why did he feel so empty?
He was supposed to be happy, after all the sacrifices that had been made to arrive so far, he had to be grateful for everything that's been given to him.
But he couldn't be, because those sacrifices were not his own, because innocent lives had been taken away, because he had come.
He truly was no different than the man whom he had condemned to suffer for all eternity. But he had to clinch his teeth, and keep on going with his head high, for the few people that were still by his side. Most importantly, for his partner.
As everyone around him had found a significant other, pressured by his best friend, he had decided to reluctantly indulge in this so called 'romance'.
And when you two finally met, he felt like a tiny fickle of faith had risen inside of his heart again.
You listened to him, to his struggles, to his doubts, to each one of his complaints like the were the only worries in the world. He failed to express how much you meant to him, after those...'Accidents', he had become even more close-up about his feelings.
You were very well aware of his workaholic tendencies, as most nights, you were the one to ask him to put down all the documents and get some rest
And this...Was one of those.
As you rapidly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from your own day, you felt a soft hand gently caressing your forehead. You were so warm and comforting, like a puppy, the only one able to give him hope in this twisted world.
But sadly, your presence could not magically make all his guilt and insecurities go away, and he had accepted that.
After contemplating your dreaming figure for a minute, he slowly closed his eyes, wishing to escape, just for a short while, from all those crushing responsibilities and expectations.
His consciousness started to slip away, he felt ready to conclude another day. Until, he heard whispering. Weak, confused, peculiar sounds, he could not understand a word of what those voices were trying to tell him, they were too far from the boy.
But they wouldn't stop. Delicate, constant and unbearable like the sound of a drip of water falling into a sink. They were playing with the Don's patience, a sleeping lion that should not disturbed, unless you wanted to be torn to pieces.
His mind immediately connected the situation to a possible Stand attack, nothing out of his normality, per se, but he was not concerned for himself. You were still peacefully resting, clinging to your sheets, it was a quite cold night. He wouldn't have let a single soul cause any harm to his darling, she was his only true happiness, his sunshine.
In the moment he stepped outside of the bedroom, what he was faced with sent a frozen shiver down his spine, as he brought his hand to his chest, to control his heartbeat.
There were four doors, floating in absolute darkness. A weak stream of light, that seemed to be originated from nothingness, illuminated each one of them singularly.
The whispering got louder and louder, faint giggles could occasionally be heard. The young one turned around to look at the entrance of this cursed place, the one he had just walked through.
But there was nothing there.
And so, like a captured prey that had nothing left to lose, he ventured himself into the first door, only to be met with a monochromatic version of Fugo. He was breathing heavily, desperately sobbing and all curled up on himself, on the shore of the same place where the rest of the gang had decided to betray Passione.
Giorno was standing on top of the water, unable to move a single inch of his body.
"Look at what you did"
A deep voice murmured in his ear. One he hadn't heard in a long time, one he wished he could have erased from his memories, that infected his mind and was more deadly than the sobbing boy's stand.
Diavolo.
"Me? Fugo chose not to leave, it was his own fault if-"
"If he was abandoned by everyone he loved? Do you have any idea of how selfish it sounds?"
The boy hesitated for a brief moment, staring at those warm tears falling into the canal.
"It was just...A temporary matter, he rejoined Passione, he's doing better now"
"My, it must have surely been fun to prove your loyalty to someone who caused the death of half of the people you cared about, after refusing to participate in his little suicide mission"
The blond's legs started to tremble, mantainig his composure was starting to look impossible.
"They...They didn't die because of me, they sacrificed themselves for a noble cause, for making Italy a better place, they wished it as much as I did"
The man contained his laughter, then he continued.
"Is that so? Why don't say that in their faces then?"
The image of the lonely boy disappeared, together with everything in the room. Giorno was back to that black space, but the door was now missing.
And the next one...Had nothing better reserved for him.
He found himself in the island of Sardegna, the only sound that could be heard were the small waves that met with the coast.
He knew perfectly why he was here. He took a closer look at the seaside, there were some footsteps printed on it. He felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of where they would have brought him.
Abbacchio's lifeless body was laying on top of a rock, surrounded by dead flowers. His entire torso had been torn apart, and yet... His corpse was smiling. A tiny, melancholic smile on his purple lips.
"Do you still have the courage to repeat what you said?"
Diavolo began, in a mocking tone.
"When he became part of the Organization, he was at his lowest, he had nowhere else to go, every path he took brought him nothing but sorrow and disappointment. The only thing that gave him comfort was following Bucciarati...And so, with that excuse, I transformed him in one of minions"
The thought of calling out Gold Experience hit Giorno's mind, but he knew that there was no point of lying to himself. The albino was gone, his soul had left his body long ago.
"I don't need you to tell me just how disgusting you are"
He said, his voice was filled with a suffocated rage, as he knelt over to look closer at his former companion.
"Abbacchio couldn't have cared less about killing me, he came with you because Bucciarati did, because he so desperately wanted to follow him, he felt like scum at the thought of no longer having him in his life"
The boy with emerald eyes felt an hand touching him on his shoulder, but there was no one there, except for himself.
"You exploited his dependence from the man, and used at your advantage, just as I did"
He stopped for a brief moment, enjoying the desperation in the other's eyes.
"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance
And with that, the second room disappeared as well. The boy contemplated whether to remain in that hellish void or to move forward, the image of what was waiting on the other side hurt way too much, his juvenile soul was starting to crush.
But he couldn't remain there, it would have meant giving up to Diavolo's twisted games, seeing him break down was exactly what he was waiting for.
He turned the doorknob, when he felt something humid staining his clothes: there was fresh blood streaming from his lady bug pins. The trail that it formed on the ground invited him to follow its path. He knew he couldn't decline, none of what he wanted seemed to matter in this place.
A metallic railing stood in front of him, his entire pins bled so much to the point of consuming themselves. An horrific scream coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time echoed through the room, as he directed his gaze to the top of the grey construction.
"What a shame...Oh well, he was the most disposable member of the team anyway"
Narancia's corpse was resting among dozens of spikes, his faded orange bandage slipped from his dark hair, landing right next to Giorno's feet.
"Oh Narancia...So young, so naive, just another victim of this unfair world. That's what you're thinking, isn't that right, Giovanna?"
"This is why people like him should not be involved in this business..."
"Mh? And why is that? Childish minds are the easiest to manipulate"
Ignoring his last statement, the other leaned down to pick up the bandage, but his hand went through it. His body was starting to feel dizzy, like it belonged to somebody else.
"Not answering won't make me go away, the damage has already been done, after all"
"Narancia should have NEVER joined Passione in the first place. He could have gone to school...Have a normal life, but-"
"But he died for your cause before he could. What he said before I activated King Crimson melted my heart a little, how cute...He really trusted you that much to the point of thinking that he would have come out of it alive"
The railing emanated a cracking sound. For a second, he was afraid it would have fallen off, causing him to get impaled as well.
"I took away his chance of living an happy, standard life when he decided to work for me, and you did the same, allowing him to come along with the rest of your team"
The small boy suddenly faded away, together with the rest.
"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance"
At last, there it was: only one room left. Despite how deeply he cared about each one of his former team members, the premonition of what would have come next was more painful than everything he's seen so far altogether.
He sat down, staring at the door from a distance, his eyes emptier than the ones of his old allies. They say that eyes are the window of the soul, and nothing else could have been used to describe his inner turmoil. Nothing but a faded, dull green, testimony of all his battle scars and the survivor guilt that he tried so much to repress.
Perhaps his eternal punishment had arrived: having the chance to confront his inner demons, to move on, to show how fearless he was.
...But never truly grasping the idea of freedom, never facing and accepting what really happened, he was never given the time to. So much had oppressed him all at once, he couldn't keep up with it.
He was a child, a child that had to grow too fast.
But then, someone came out of the door. A bittersweet figment of his imagination, that made his heart stop beating for a second.
The one he hadn't seen in years, the one he had tried to subdue the most, the one that showed him for the first time in his life what love was, stood in front of him. There was no hole in his chest, no sign of blood or wounds, a reassuring smile accompanied his face, as he held out his hand to the grieving kid.
"What are you doing all alone in here? The others are worried for you. Let's not make them wait any longer, shall we?"
Giorno ignored his help, his gaze was stuck on that endless floor. He didn't have the courage to look at the other, his presence alone felt like a sadistic joke.
He didn't look sad, depressed, miserable... He was just...Tired.
He wanted to cry those tears that he had denied in the last three years, he wanted to yell at that illusion to leave him alone, that wasn't the real Bruno, it couldn't be.
But, as he impeded any of this from coming out, something he didn't think he would have felt in a thousand of years struck him.
Bucciarati hugged him.
A tight, comforting hug like one of a mother, that he was waiting for his child to reciprocate. The latter's breathing became heavier and heavier with every moment that passed, as weak laments rapidly turned into audible sobs.
"There's no reason to be sad now, I'm real, you can feel it, can't you?"
"Y-You...You're here...But h-how is it p-possible?"
The brunette chuckled, the sound of his laughter was more comforting than an angel's voice.
"It isn't"
Giovanna's stand penetrated the man's torso, but its arm...It was not Gold Experience's. It had a checkered red and white pattern that extended in its entirety, and it possessed an amount of physical strength which was out of any possible expectations for the creature able to give life.
"Foolish child, I thought you were better than this, I'd lie if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed"
The sound of Bruno's corpse falling to the ground resonated through that empty space, as the last door vanished. A puddle of blood originated from his horrible injury, it was big enough for the boy to see his reflection in.
"You are no better than me under any point of view. We took advantage of his kindness, we used him as a simple pawn for our own gain. The only difference between us, is that I was not manipulating enough to convince him to join my side voluntarily. He was a tool to the both of us, but you were the one who caused his demise"
The mirror that had been created showed two people, but the transparent figure of Diavolo immediately ceased to be visible. The only one left was Giorno, though his reflection seemed to mutate with every second that passed.
His blond curls started to change shape, turning into a fuchsia mess, with dirty green stains on it. His eyes had a killer, maniacal look inside of them, his pupils got smaller in horror. His entire body structure was different. He looked older, more muscular, his clothes, too, were no longer his own.
"Mista loved him, and you killed him"
"Fugo loved him, and you killed him"
"Trish loved him, and you killed him"
"Narancia loved him, and you killed him"
"Abbacchio loved him, and you killed him"
"You loved him, and you killed him"
...
"Giorno? Giorno please, wake up!"
You screamed, your sleep was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend hyperventilating, as he desperately held you to himself, still trapped in that horrible dream.
You sighed in relief when he abruptly opened his eyes, so swollen and red from all the tears he's shed.
"Another nightmare, uh?"
You asked, gently caressing his back to try and calm him down, he was as vulnerable as a baby that runs to his parents after having a bad dream. Waking up in the middle of the night to comfort him is something you had grown accustomed to, but you had never seen him this shaken up.
He slightly nodded in response, grabbing the top of your pajamas. You put an hand behind his head, making him rest on your chest, and kissed him softly on his forehead.
You could hear him murmuring something, you couldn't tell wherever he was talking to you, or to himself.
"I-I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry..."
He repeated like a broken record, you could barely make out what he was trying to say.
"Tesoro, you've done nothing wrong, there's no one you owe your apologizes to"
The boy raised his head slightly, intertwining your fingers with his, he needed to feel sure that this was not another tremendous trick of his mind.
"See? I'm here, you don't have to be afraid. I know that you feel unworthy of my feelings, but there is no one out there that deserves love more than you do. Nobody is perfect, Giorno, you did everything that was in your power to help them"
"But I...I was the one w-who put them in danger in the first place"
"No, you were not. You all shared the same ideals, you saved them from the oppression they were put in"
As you swept those remaining drops away from his face, you could still feel his entire body shaking like a dried leaf in a windy day of autumn.
"N-None of this would have happened if I didn't come along..."
"Exactly, none of them would have known what it meant to be free. I...Understand that the sacrifices that were made are not easy to forget, but blaming yourself like this...Do you really think that's what they would have wanted?"
Not receiving an answer, you laid down once again, still holding him in your arms. You forced a tiny smile, kissing him delicately on his lips, and whispered in his ear that everything would have been okay.
But, in reality...You felt you were trying to reassure yourself as well. This was not something you could have solely resolved through staying by his side, healing from this would have taken a lot of time, but...At least, you could offer some temporary safety, and it seemed to be enough for the time being.
In fact, after some minutes, everything seemed to cease. The boy fell asleep once again, this time with the knowledge that you were there to protect him.
You sighed, praying for your darling to finally find some peace.
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calpalirwin · 3 years
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The Falcon and the Newlyweds
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Summary: After Steve travels back in time to reunite you and Bucky, he retires as Captain America, but you’re just getting started. (aka exactly like TFATWS but better?)
A/N: All credits to original owners/writers of TFATWS series. Added details/characters and minor storyline changes are of my own imagination. 
Word Count: 6.2k
And away, and away we go!
__
Episode 5
When Sam suggested the three of you go find John, you shook your head vehemently. “No. No, I don’t want to,” you whispered.
“Doll, we’re afraid we’re gonna hurt him, too,” Bucky admitted.
You still continued to shake your head. “I-I’m not worried about us… I-”
“Oh…” Bucky said in sad realization. “Oh, doll. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He lost control, and I think even he knows that. He’s still the idiot we hate. And yeah, by the looks of it he managed to snag a vial of the serum, which makes him like me now.” Bucky shuddered at the thought. “But someone needs to find him.”
“I don’t want to…”
“That’s okay. Sam and I can go. We can take you back to the apartment, and then Sam and I can go.”
“No. Bucky you can’t go.”
“I’m not letting Sam go by himself.”
You looked over at Sam, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Look, Y/N. I know you saw an ugly side to John. I get that fear. Okay? I do. Buck used to scare me the way John just scared you. But Buck’s right. Someone has to find him, and it’s better if we do it. And look, throughout all of this, have Buck and I ever let you get close to getting hurt?”
“No…”
“Exactly. And if it makes you feel better, Buck and I will do the talking. Just come with us so we know you’re not alone. Please?”
“Okay,” you finally nodded. “But please don’t fight him if you don’t have to.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say that, much less agree with it,” Bucky tried to joke. “Sam, you still got Sharon tracking him?”
“Yeah, c’mon.”
~~~
Sam led the way to a building that was closed off for construction, easily locating John inside. “Walker,” Sam started.
“You guys should see a medic,” John interrupted. “You don’t look so good.” Long gone was the high and mighty tone he usually addressed you all with. His tone was also void of any attitude or malice. It was chilling to see him looking and sounding so void.
“Stop, Walker,” Sam started again, as John started to walk past you all.
“What?” he scoffed, the attitude and raised voice coming out. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”
“He didn’t kill Lemar, John,” Bucky said simply, keeping his own tone calm to not anger the other man, and cause another outburst of rage. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Sage advice from one previously unhinged super soldier to a currently unhinged one.
“I’m not like you,” John insisted.
Bucky gave a sad shake of his head, and you gripped his hand in yours reassuringly. If John didn’t want to listen to someone who’d been where’d he’d been, and under much worse conditions, that was on John, not Bucky.
“Listen,” Sam stepped in. “It was the heat of the battle, okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. John, you gotta give me the shield, man.”
Slow realization swept across John’s face. “Oh… so that’s what this is. You almost got me. I should’ve known when she didn’t have any smartmouthed remarks for me.” His gaze swept over you, chillingly so.
“Mistakes happen,” you said, your voice quiet. “Let them help you so this doesn’t get worse.”
“You don’t wanna do this,” John said, his attention back on Bucky and Sam.
“Yeah, we do,” Bucky responded.
There was a momentary pause as Bucky and Sam looked at each other, and nodded. In a swift movement, Bucky guided you backwards with his arm, then advanced on John with Sam.
Two against one, you watched as Bucky and Sam tried to outfight John, punches and kicks flying in every direction, vibranium fist colliding with vibranium shield. You pressed yourself against a wall, making yourself as small as possible, heart hammering in your chest as you watched the scene unfold.
Any fear you had turned to blood boiling rage when John chucked the shield, nailing Bucky in the chest as sending him crashing backwards as John advanced, Sam lying on the floor from a hit he’d taken.
“Why are you making me do this?!” you heard John scream as he pressed the shield into Bucky, pinning him between the metal and construction vehicle. He grabbed the shield that Bucky had a firm grip on, throwing Bucky sideways across the warehouse.
Seeing red, you quietly reached down to pull out a knife. Aside from the shootout in Madripoor, you never needed to use any of the weapons strategically placed throughout your suit. And despite everything, you didn’t actually want to shoot John, mostly at the risk of missing and hitting either Bucky or Sam. But while John wasn’t exactly in stabbing range, and you weren’t all that amped to get into stabbing range, you could throw it.
With a slow breath, you adjusted the sharp steel in your hand. You took aim, chucking the knife with as much accuracy and force as you could, watching as the blade hurled end over end before sinking into John’s upper thigh, at the very convenient time that Sam flew straight into him. “This isn’t you, John,” Sam breathed heavily as both men stood face to face.
“We could’ve been a team…”
Not liking the way John didn’t appear ready to give up, Sam launched a rope that locked into the shield, engaging in a weirdly combative game of tug of war.
John lost his grip, and the rope came loose, the shield clattering against the ground. If you were fast enough, you could reach out and snag it. But with Bucky still on the ground himself, Sam holding back John for you didn’t inspire much confidence. Especially when both men dove for the shield themselves. But when Sam tackled John away from grabbing it, both men rolling further away from you, and the shield, you took your chance.
“I. Am. Captain America!” John screamed as he pinned Sam down, ripping Sam’s wings off his suit.
“No, you’re not!” you said, charging into John with the shield with all your might. John’s body rolled off Sam’s, and yours rolled with the shield, clinging on to it for all you were worth as you and John both staggered to your feet. “Shit,” you breathed with a happy grin. “That was cool!” Then, your eyes went wide, before you screwed them shut, raising the shield the block John advancing on you. “SHIT!” you screamed, bracing for impact.
The impact however, never came as Bucky jumped into action at the sound of your voice, raining blows down on John. “Don’t! You! Fuckin’! Touch! Her!” Each yelled word was a new hit, as Bucky fought John away from you.
“It’s mine,” John panted like a child who was being forced to share his favorite toy against his will.
“It’s over, John,” Sam told him.
“It’s mine!” John snarled, taking a swing at Bucky.
Bucky blocked it, grabbing the back of John’s neck with his vibranium hand, and punching him in the face with his other hand. “Y/N, shield!” Sam ordered.
Not needing to be told twice, you tossed Sam the shield as Bucky picked up John, and slammed him into the shield, the force of the impact sending all three men crashing to the floor in a chorus of groaned grunts of pain, the shield lying uselessly on the ground once more.
Bucky was the first to recover, grabbing the shield, and rising to his feet. Wordlessly, he walked over to Sam, dropping it next to him. The look on Bucky’s face said more than his mouth ever could, the anger that he had helped Sam get a shield he’d given up so easily needing no reason to be physically voiced. “C’mon, doll,” he said simply, turning and walking out of the building, leaving John and Sam where they lay.
“We’re not gonna leave Sam here, are we?” you asked in a whisper, jogging to keep up with your husband.
“Right now? Yes.”
“Bucky… It’s been a long day. And I know you still have your issues about Sam and the shield, and what it all means to you. But it’s Sam. He’s our friend, and partner whether you want him to be, or not.”
“I know,” Bucky answered you through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m only leaving him for right now. Now, let’s talk about you, and what you did.”
You sighed. “What? Are you gonna yell at me about how I should have kept my distance? How you and Sam told me not to engage with John, and how I didn’t even want to go in there in the first place, so I’m completely batshit for doing what I did? That I could have gotten hurt, or worse? I know all that, Bucky. So please, spare me the lecture.”
“That was half of it, yes…” he admitted. “But what you did was also incredibly smart, and got Sam the shield.”
You shrugged. “I just got mad, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but it got Sam the shield. And it potentially saved us too. John was… That’s not a fight I’m eager to have again, that’s for damn sure. Between that fight and the one earlier… Knowing that you’re okay, and Sam probably physically feels worse than I do right now is really the only thing helping me feel somewhat okay right now.”
“Well, let’s get back to the apartment, and I’ll patch you up like old times.”
Bucky smiled fondly at long buried memories. “Mmm. Nurse Y/N. I always liked her.”
~~~
“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli,” Sam reported over breakfast the next morning. “But so far, they only found her followers. They’ve searched a camp nearby, and just like the last camp they searched, nothing. She’s gone. We’ll never find her.”
“Hey, you got your sleeve back,” Torres’ voice chirped as he walked into the living room, and you wondered briefly where he’d come from, but you figured he probably arrived when Sam did, and given him the full run down of the GRC’s movements, much like Sam was giving you and Bucky now. Torres pointed at Bucky’s left jacket sleeve, once again reattached to the jacket he was wearing. “No? Yeah… okay then…” Torres said to no one in particular as Bucky stood there in silence, with his trademark stoic stare.
Still silent, and clearly still angry with Sam, Bucky turned on his heel to exit the room. “Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam wondered.
“Alright, good to know you survived,” Torres chipped again in a goodbye of sorts as Bucky stalked off down the hallway.
“He’ll come around,” you said as a half-assed apology for Bucky. “He’s… ya know. So, what else do we need to know about the Karli situation? Or the John one?”
Sam shrugged, looking over at Torres. “What’s our next steps?”
“Captain America killing a foreign national in public? It’s kinda like a big deal. Like international incident big. Folks higher up on the payroll are all over it now. So, unfortunately…”
“They’re taking jurisdiction,” Sam guessed.
“Yeah,” Torres nodded, his attention falling to a duffle bag at Sam’s feet that contained the snapped wings of his suit. “What happened to these?”
“So is there anything we can do?” you asked as Torres started examining the duffle bag.
“Not really. As I was telling Sam, they’ve cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli’s a ghost. After what went down, she’s laying extra low. Like under underground.”
“That’s why it makes sense for us to get involved,” Sam said. “The longer we let her regroup, the harder it’s gonna be to find her.”
“She’s got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms,” Torres pointed out. “She’s really, really good at this thing.” He ran his hands carefully over the splintered wings. “How’d these break?”
“John,” you answered while Sam sighed, taking in all the information Torres was providing.
“Anyways,” Torres went on, “all we can do now is sit tight, and just chill. Sometimes there’s nothing to do, until there’s something to do.”
“That’s bizarrely wise,” Sam said with a small laugh.
“It means we can train,” you interjected. “Be prepared for whatever comes next.”
“The lady has a point,” Torres agreed with you, his eyes flickering longingly to the shield that lay on the table, remnants of the blood John had splattered on his now gone.
“Yeah, alright,” Sam nodded with a smile, looking at you. “Find your husband, and let’s get to work.”
Thankfully, all you had to do was turn your head, finding Bucky stalking back down the hallway with both yours and his suitcases in hand. “B- Oh, hey. We going somewhere?”
“Home. Well. Sam is. You and I are making a pit stop first.”
“So you finally found Zemo?” was Sam’s guess.
“I have an idea of where he might be, yeah.”
“You know, sometimes you still scare me Buck. The staring. The eerily calm voice. It’s creepy, man.”
“You wanna get to work, or not, Sam?”
~~~
The pit stop ended up being Sokovia, Bucky giving you a full rundown as to why he figured Zemo would be there on the flight over. He also told you of the plan he had. And sure enough, as the two of you walked up to the memorial site, Zemo was standing in front of it, his back facing you.
“I thought you’d be here sooner,” Zemo said as you and Bucky got within earshot. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”
“Imagine my relief,” Bucky deadpanned, finger clicking the safety of the gun he had ready at his side.
Zemo turned towards you both, unthreatened by Bucky’s action as his attention focused on you. “The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned you and Sam, but you wouldn’t listen. Just as stubborn as Steve was, the two of you.” His gaze shifted to Bucky. “But you. They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere. And there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Bucky answered, his face conveying no evidence of whether or not that statement was actually true. “But we’re gonna do it our own way.”
Zemo chuckled at what he believed to be the naivety of Bucky’s words. “Yeah. I was afraid you’d say that.”
The gun in Bucky’s hand clicked again as he loaded what you knew to be nothing, but Zemo rightfully assumed to be a bullet into the chamber, raising his hand, the barrel of the gun mere inches from Zemo’s forehead. Zemo went pale, but kept his composure calm, even nodding at Bucky like he was giving the man permission to pull the trigger.
You watched as Zemo sucked in his breath while Bucky pressed ever so lightly on the trigger. But all that came out of the gun was an empty clicking sound. Eyes still locked on Zemo, Bucky opened his other hand, the bullets clattering to the ground.
Silently, the Dora Milaje walked up, surrounding Zemo. “Ladies,” he greeted, before addressing Bucky one last time. “I took the liberty of crossing my name off in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do. Goodbye James. It was nice getting to know you, Mrs. Barnes.”
Two of the Dora Milaje escorted Zemo away, while the third talked briefly with Bucky about their own plans for Zemo. “It would be prudent to make yourself scarce in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf,” she added as a small warning.
“Fair enough,” he nodded. Then, “Hey. I may have another favor to ask of you.”
~~~
 After your visit with Zemo, you and Bucky headed home.
“Buck said you got a few good ones in on that new Cap guy. Good for you,” Steve smiled proudly.
“I did okay, I guess. Got out better than Bucky and Sam, that’s for sure,” you shrugged in modesty. “Have you heard from Sam?”
“Yeah, he got back a few days ago. But just as soon as he stopped by, he was gone again. Something about seeing the old man in Baltimore?”
“Bradley,” you and Bucky said in unison. “He’s uh… like you and me,” Bucky added as an extra explanation when Steve cocked his head in confusion. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, if that was a few days ago, where’s Sam now?” you asked.
Steve shrugged. “My guess? He went home to see his sister in Louisiana. You guys still not talking after what happened?”
You looked at Bucky, and shook your head. “No. Bucky won’t say it, but he’s still never forgiven Sam for giving up the shield in the first place. And now he’s even more mad he had to help Sam get it back, because-”
“None of this would have happened if he hadn’t given it up in the first place,” you and Steve gave your best Bucky impression together.
“1.) I don’t sound like that. And 2.) I’m right. None of this would have happened if Sam had kept the shield. Not the shit with Walker anyway.”
“But Sam’s still family. And we’re still Avengers. And we still have a job to finish with Karli,” you pointed out.
“What? So you want to go to Louisiana and find Sam?” Bucky asked you.
“That would be a start.”
“Doll, we just got home. Don’t you wanna be home for a bit?”
“Not when there’s still work to be done. And you and Sam gotta put this whole mess behind you once and for all, because all Riga proved was that it takes all three of us working together to take down John.”
“And that barely worked,” he reminded you.
“Which is also why we all need to train together. Not you training me here while Sam does God knows what in Louisiana. We need to be an actual team here, Bucky.”
Bucky sighed. “Alright. I’ll book us a flight first thing tomorrow, okay?”
“Why not book it right now?”
Bucky looked at Steve, clearing his throat before leaning in close to your ear. “Because of reasons I can’t say in front of your brother, doll.”
Your eyes went wide and your cheeks turned bright red at Bucky’s insinuation while Steve clapped his hands loudly together. “Okay. I think we’re done here.”
~~~
You’re sure we’re in the right place?” you asked Bucky as you approached a dock crowded with people and supplies.
Bucky only nodded as he climbed in the back of a truck lifting a huge pallet with ease at the same time you heard Sam’s voice wonder “How do we get it off the truck?”
“You’re welcome,” Bucky said as he set the pallet aside, turning to see Sam’s shocked expression.
“Surprise,” you grinned, waggling your fingers in a wave at Sam.
Sam stepped around the truck to get closer to you and Bucky, the shock on his face now a questioning look.
Bucky set a suitcase down on the bed of the truck. “Just dropping this off. Sign for it, and we’ll go.”
“Bucky,” you hissed under your breath. This was not part of your plan at all.
“I called in a favor from the Wakandans,” Bucky explained to Sam.
Before Sam could say anything in response, or you could berate Bucky under your breath again, a pipe started hissing loudly, and a woman was rushing over. “Sam!”
Sam wasted no time in rushing over to assess what the damage to the pipe was and how to go about fixing it, grabbing a nearby wrench as the woman looked at you and Bucky.
“Hi,” you smiled at her.
“Hi,” she smiled back.
Bucky sighed, watching what Sam was doing before going over. “Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up.” He took the wrench from Sam, pushing him out of the way, quickly tightening to the loose bolt on the pipe until it stopped hissing.
“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?” Sam asked as Bucky set the wrench aside.
Bucky thought about it for a second, looking at the vibranium appendage. “Well, I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed. So, this is the boat, huh?”
“This is it,” Sam nodded.
“It’s nice,” Bucky complimented. “You want any help?”
Sam looked at Bucky, sighing deeply. “Yeah…”
You and the woman looked over at Bucky and Sam, rolling your eyes. “Men…” you muttered. Then, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”
“Sarah,” she smiled back. “Friends of Sam’s, I take it?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Mmm,” she nodded, her eyes roaming over Bucky. “And who are you?”
“I’m Bucky,” he grinned charmingly at her.
Sam punched him in the right arm as hard as he could. 
“Ow! What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky growled, rubbing at his arm.
“What is it with you and people’s sisters, man? How did Steve not beat your ass?”
Sarah’s eyes went wide as she looked at you, yours and Bucky’s name clicking in familiarity. “Oh!” she said, a hand covering her mouth as she looked at you, “I’m so sorry!”
You howled with laughter as Sam hit Bucky in the arm some more. “Seriously?! How did Steve not obliterate your ass?”
“He was like a foot shorter and weighed maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet,” Bucky shrugged. “Now will you stop hitting me? Doll!” He turned to you with puppy dog eyes to help him. “Weren’t you the one saying I needed to learn to be friendlier to people?”
“Friendlier, not flirtier,” you clarified, tears rolling down your cheeks from how hard you were still laughing. “Now help Sam with the damn boat, Sergeant Charmer.”
It was an interesting morning watching Bucky and Sam work on the boat, while you helped Sarah in the house making meals. “It’s probably a good thing Bucky’s from another time,” she commented as she caught you staring dreamily out the window for the millionth time.
“How do you mean?”
“A man that looks like that, and knows it? In today’s society? Not usually a good mix.”
“Oh, those types have always existed,” you said with a small chuckle. “Bucky and Steve used to fight them quite a bit.”
“And you? Having to fight off the hoards of women that no doubt threw themselves at a man like that?”
You laughed again. “Very rare occurrences. Bucky is, uh… attentive that way, I guess.”
“Well, you’re lucky to have a husband like Bucky. Men like that are hard to come by, believe me.”
“Oh, I know. Funny thing is, if you ask Bucky, he’d say he’s the lucky one.”
“Well, lunch is about done if you wanna bring these plates out to them for me.”
You thanked her, loading the plates up in your arms before walking outside and over to where Bucky and Sam were. “Lunch time!” you called out.
Both of their heads swiveled in your direction, Bucky clutching at his heart dramatically. “Oh, a woman after my own heart.”
“Sarah made lunch, I just helped,” you told him, handing him a plate.
Sam snickered, taking his own plate from you, “Thanks for helping her,” he told you, then in a louder voice that was almost a shout, “Thank you, Sarah!”
“You think Karli’s gonna throw in the towel?” Bucky asked, as you all took a spot and dug into your lunch.
Sam shook his head as he swallowed his bite of food. “I think she’s gonna double down.”
“Any idea on how to stop her?”
“I got Torres working on something.”
“Well, Zemo says there’s only one way.”
You all said nothing for a minute, eating your lunch and thinking quietly to yourselves before Bucky broke the silence. “Well. Y/N and I gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Gonna get a hotel room for the night. Crash, ya know?”
“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”
“Well, there’s two of us. We don’t wanna impose, or anything. I really just came to give you that,” Bucky nodded at the suitcase the Wakandans have given him for Sam.
Sam snorted. “Like Y/N didn’t all but march your ass on the plane to get here. So just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts, or if you have six toes, or if your mom’s your aunt-” Sam rambled.
“Okay,” Bucky cut him off with a chuckle. “I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.”
You and Sam laughed too, before Sam pointed at Bucky, “But don’t flirt with my sister.”
“Why would I do that?”
Sam looked at you, “He doesn’t get it, does he?”
You shook your head, “He never really did.”
“What don’t I get?”
“It’s how you interact with women in general, Bucky. They find you charming,” you explained. “Niceness is mistaken as interest.”
“Well, that’s ridiculous.”
“Just keep the charm around my sister in check, or I’ll help Y/N cut you up, and feed you to the fish.”
Bucky rolled his eyes.
~~~
That night, instead of a hotel, you and Bucky slept in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house, while Sam offered to take the couch.
Both of you awoke to the sounds of Sarah’s sons making a ruckus down the hall, and Sam’s tired call out of “Hey!”
You rolled on your side, to find Bucky already looking at you with a smile on his face. “What’s got you so happy this morning?” you asked, kissing his nose.
His shoulders shrugged. “Something about this is nice. Waking up next to you in a house. Sound of kids.”
You gasped softly in a teasing manner. “James Barnes, are you saying you want a quiet domestic life?”
He chuckled, kissing your forehead. “You knew that was what I wanted. What our lives were supposed to be like when I got home. You wanted the same thing too, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. I still do. I just didn’t know you still did, given how much everything’s changed.”
“For a while I didn’t. My focus was… elsewhere. But it’s been something that’s been on my mind again since you’ve been back. But I wanted to give us both time to adjust. Catch up for lost time, just me and you. And then… ya know. But yeah. This,” he twirled a finger about the room, and the sounds of the house coming alive, “is still something I want.”
“Well, it’s still something I want, too.”
His kiss was heavy with need as his lips crashed into yours. “God, I love you.”
~~~
The shield bit deeply into the tree Sam hurled it at. “Son of a b-” he muttered, dashing over to wedge it free.
“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Bucky told him.
“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Sam repeated in a mocking tone.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I got an idea.”
The idea ended up being taking rubber mats to bound around the trees, Sam giving it a test once they were done. The shield bounced off the mat, flying straight back to Sam who caught it with ease. “Yeah, alright,” he conceded. “That’s way better.”
“How’s the shield part feel?” you asked.
“That part feels weird.” He launched it again, the shield ricocheting off one mat into another before Bucky caught it. “The legacy of that shield,” Sam continued, “is complicated to say the least.”
“When Steve told us what he was planning, I don’t think any of us really understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield. How could we?” Bucky spoke up.
You and Sam shared a look, Sam jerking a thumb at you, “Well, I understood. And so did she. But glad you’re finally catching up.”
Bucky sighed, “Fine. I didn’t understand. Point is, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” He lifted the arm the shield was on towards Sam for Sam to take.
“Thank you,” Sam said sincerely, taking the shield.
“Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn’t your fault,” Bucky went on to say. “I get it. It’s just… that shield… For a while it was the closest thing I had to a family. Or it was a huge part in me getting my family back anyway. Because if Steve never took it up in the first place… Well, when you retired it, it felt like giving up. Made me question everything. Like first Steve retired. Then you retired the shield. Everything that saved me was done. Like I was nothing but a completed mission.”
You and Sam stayed quiet, letting Bucky spill out the confession he now found the words to express. But after a long enough pause on Bucky’s end, you reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I know both Steve, and the shield mean a lot to you. But it doesn’t define you, Bucky,” you told him softly. “You are not who you are because of Steve. He might have helped, but he is not the reason. You are. You’re the one who put in the work.”
“She’s right,” Sam agreed with you. “You gotta stop looking at other people to tell you who you are. Let me ask you, you still having those nightmares?”
“All the time,” Bucky nodded. “It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.”
“You up for a little tough love? You wanna climb out of that hell you’re in, keep doing the work.”
“I’ve been making my amends.”
Sam scoffed. “No. You weren’t amending, you were avenging. And teaching Y/N in the process. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier because you thought it would bring you closure. But if it actually was, then your nightmares wouldn’t be happening. At least not with the frequency they still do.”
Bucky looked at you, both of you thinking about Yori back home. “You’re not allowed to talk to Sam anymore if you’re gonna blab everything I tell you to him.”
You smiled, knowing he was only teasing. “We’re a team, Bucky. Looking out for each other is what we do.”
Bucky shook his head. “Definitely not a team.”
“Nope,” Sam agreed with Bucky.
“We’re not that good,” Bucky laughed.
“Definitely not,” Sam agreed again.
“We’re professionals.”
“Definitely.”
“And uh… partners?”
“Coworkers.”
“But, we’re also a couple guys with a mutual friend.”
“But the friend’s now gone,” Sam pointed out.
“So we’re a couple of guys.”
“I can live with that.”
“Perfect.”
You snorted at their boyish back and forth antics. “The word you’re looking for is ‘family’ actually,” you interjected.
“Just uh… call us when you have a lead on Karli, and we’ll be there,” Bucky told Sam.
“Yep. And uh, thanks for the help. Meant a lot.”
“Course,” Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder, and you and Sam gave each other a quick hug. “C’mon, doll. We got a flight to catch.”
~~~
Back home with no idea for how long, you and Bucky set to work on a more rigorous training for you.
Mornings quickly became filled with drilling you in various hand-to-hand combat techniques in which Bucky barely broke a sweat, and you ended up drenched in enough of your own for the both of you.
While you relished in your morning routine with Bucky, it was the afternoons you found particularly interesting after you came out of the bedroom to find Bucky sitting in front of his laptop. “Whatcha looking at?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you peered at the house listings on the computer screen.
“Domestic dreaming,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen as he patted the sofa cushion next to him for you to join him.
“Oh, so when you said you still wanted this, you meant you wanted it now,” you teased as you moved around him to take the offered seat.
He shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t hurt. Thanks to Stark, everyone that’s still around is pretty well off. And I forget when exactly, but at some point Steve and I were able to get our GI funds.”
“That’s nice,” you noted, now understanding why finances had never seemed to be an issue despite neither of you actually working.
“Yeah. And I figured raising a family in a shoebox apartment isn’t part of that domestic dream. So…”
“So here we are,” you supplied.
“So here we are,” he repeated with a nod. “Oh, this one looks nice,” he said, clicking on one of the options.
“It is,” you agreed, watching as Bucky clicked through the pictures of the 3 bedroom home. “Big enough to raise a family. Small enough to not be obnoxious.”
“Mhm,” Bucky murmured, the mouse hovering over the link to schedule a viewing. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you grinned.
After that, it wasn’t uncommon for yours and Bucky’s afternoons to be filled with meeting with realtors and attending open houses, weighing all your options in the evenings. And with the type of dedication Bucky had towards house hunting, it wasn’t long at all until you found a place you both fell in love with.
“C’mon, doll,” he roused you one morning like he always did. “Gotta go train.”
Normally you bounded out of bed, excited for a new day of training exercises, but today you swatted a hand at him, batting him away. “No,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up over your head, and turning away from him, the action making your stomach roll. You let out a long, low groan.
“You feeling alright?” he asked, his voice taking on a note of concern. Hands pulled the blanket from your face, before he was feeling your forehead, checking for any unusual warmth. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” he noted with a frown.
“Gonna be sick,” you announced, springing from bed and racing for the bathroom.
Bucky followed worriedly, one hand pulling your hair out of your face, the other rubbing soothingly at your back as you dry-heaved into the toilet. “Okay, no training today. We do have the meeting with the realtor later to sign the last of the papers and get the keys. But I can ask Steve to come keep you company while I go do that if you’re not up for it.”
“No,” you said, shaking your head and rising shakily to your feet. “You don’t have to bother Steve. It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be fine.”
“Well, let me at least help you back to bed, and make you some breakfast, okay?”
“Fine,” you conceded, letting him support your weight as he led you back to bed. “But I’m not hungry,” you told him as you pulled the blanket close around you in bed.
“Not hungry, or worried you’ll be sick if you eat?” he questioned the validity of your statement.
You stuck your tongue out at him.
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “At least try to eat some toast for me? Maybe having something in your stomach will help.”
“If you get it to me before I fall back asleep, I’ll try,” was your compromise.
Quickly, Bucky raced into the kitchen, as you closed your eyes wondering why you suddenly felt so miserable. When you’d been sick in the past, there’d always been signs leading up to it. But this sickness had caught you completely off guard. 
“Gotta sit up for me, doll,” Bucky’s voice had you opening your eyes again, spotting him standing next to you with a plate in his hand.
You groaned, sitting up against the headboard and taking a begrudging bite of the toast.
He chuckled again. “I forgot how stubborn you get when you’re sick. Way more than you normally are.”
“Not sure how not wanting to vomit toast, and wanting to sleep makes me stubborn, but okay,” you said, taking another slow bite.
“Aren’t there usually signs before you get sick? I thought there used to be signs.”
“There are signs. Or there’s supposed to be. I dunno what the heck is happening.”
His brows pulled together in curious confusion. “You’re not…” his eyes shifted to look at your stomach pointedly. “Are you?”
Your eyes went wide at the suggestion, before you shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe?”
“Shit…”
“Would it be bad if I was?”
“No!” he rushed. “God no. Just…”
“We talked about all of this back in the forties, it became irrelevant for decades, and now that we started talking about the possibility of it all again, it’s all happening at once.”
“And we still have the Karli situation, yeah. But it’s fine. It’s more than fine. Do you want me to run down to the pharmacy?”
“Please?”
Ten minutes later, Bucky held you tight as you waited on the test lying on the bathroom counter with wide and tearful eyes. “Holy shit…” you both breathed in unison, as a small plus sign appeared in the result window. “Holy shit!”
__
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"Sorry" - Din Djarin x gender-neutral!reader
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Summary: Every night the pain in your soul becomes silent tears in your eyes as you cry yourself to sleep. 
Warning: heavy angst and sadness, that's it I think...
Category: angst, hurt/comfort
Words: about 2.500
Notes: This is part of @din-damn-djarin​’s song prompt writing challenge which I joined super late but at least I finished this fic hella fast. I was just so motivated. I chose Sorry by Nothing But Thieves. As a little extra challenge for myself I tried to incorporate some of the lyrics directly into the story... maybe you can spot them! Note 2: I will beta-read this tomorrow after I had a few hours of sleep so until then please just ignore any mistakes...
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"Sorry" - Din Djarin x gn!reader
After all these months, after all these small touches you couldn't help but imagine a future with him. You couldn't help but envision how everything would play out when you would confess your feelings to him.
After all these months you had finally realized what that fluttering in your stomach was, whenever Din brushed you lightly. The smallest touch was enough to make your heart throb against your ribs so painfully sweet. Heat rose to your cheeks whenever he lightly taped your arm or placed his hand on your shoulder to get your attention. They were only small touches, innocent and fleeting but they meant the world to you. When he soothingly rubbed your back or squeezed your hand you knew he cared. You knew he felt the same even if neither of you had said it out loud.
After all these months you two had grown more comfortable with the presence of each other. So comfortable, in fact, that somehow you ended up cuddled up on the pilot seat in his lap when you were exhausted after a day filled with running and shooting, more often than not. You had no idea why or how it started but you didn't care. You felt safe whenever he would wrap his arms around you and let you press your face between his helmet and neck. When he let you melt into his comforting warmth and forget the terrors of the day. You knew he cared when he held you tight, close to him and his racing heart that was beating just as fast as your own underneath his beskar and your fingertips.
After all these months you knew you loved him with all your heart. And you couldn't help but envision how it would be if he was yours. You couldn't help fantasize about the perfect future with him and the kid.
After all these months you had thought you knew how he felt for you, too. Maybe love had made you blind. Maybe you had just been naive and dumb. Maybe you had slowly lost grip on reality while being held by him, while being so close to him. Because reality came back crashing down on you when you had told him how you felt… and when he had told you how he didn't. 
"I'm sorry. I don't… I can't return your feelings."
_______________
The sudden distance was heartbreaking. You had gotten so used to his touches, his embrace, his warmth that the sudden loss laid heavily on your shoulders. With every step it pulled you further down, further into the spiral of hurt and pain. You couldn't look up at his visor anymore, your eyes always lowered when you where near him. Because even though he had broken your heart you couldn't bring yourself to leave. Even if every day reminded you of the pain, digging it's spikes into your heart, deeper and deeper with every passing day you spend on the Razor Crest, you couldn't bring yourself to leave him and the kid. You loved them both dearly and even when your feelings were unreturned you had a duty to fulfill. You had joined Din to help him with the kid and not to... fall in love. 
But when he sat like that before you on the pilot seat, his armor stripped off and his arm freed from his flight suit so you could stitch up the wound he couldn't reach on his own, you felt the pain even more prominently than ever before. Because this was the first time you saw him. This was the first time you saw the man underneath the armor, the gentle, honest man you knew… you thought he was. 
You couldn't raise your gaze to meet his blank visor anymore, you couldn't stand being close to him anymore. Because every fleeting touch felt like it burned you. Every touch seemed to laugh at you and your stupidity, laugh at how you could have ever thought you had a chance with him. The future you had envisioned had broken down around you and left you and your heart in tiny pieces. And whenever you tried to pick them up and but them back together, every time you tried to move on they just slipped past your trembling fingers. 
At night you laid wide away, staring at the ceiling from your improvised bed with tear filled eyes. Every night your thoughts kept circling around if it had been your fault somehow. At how you could have been so blind. Had you misread the situation so severely? Could you have been really so blind and dumb? Had all these nights in hyperspace spend tightly cuddled up on the pilot seat truly meant nothing to him? Every night the pain in your soul became silent tears in your eyes as you cried yourself to sleep. 
And now you had to pull all your strength together to push those tears back down, to not break down right in front of him. But when the touch of his uncovered skin slowly warmed up your trembling fingers and when you felt the pulsing of his heart in the vessels of his upper arm echo back in your own, it became impossible. Silently one dropped down onto your shaking hands as the rest began to cloud your vision. You quickly finished up his stitches and helped him back into his flight suit before you hurrydly closed the med kit and pressed it against your chest. You turned around to walk out of the cockpit but you had only took a few steps away when he reached out and curled his still gloveless fingers around your wrist, making your body freeze up. A soft whimper escaped your lips as your breath got stuck in your throat. You felt him tug at your arm ever so slightly, begging you to turn around and face him. But you couldn't. If you would turn around now you knew you couldn't hold back the wave of tears and the storm of emotions anymore. You knew you would break right there in front of him. 
"(Y/N)." 
You bit your tongue, trying to hold back the sob as the tears continued to cloud your vision. You pressed your eyes closed and begged yourself to hold it together, to not show him how much he had hurt you. But when you heard him stand up and softly turn you around to face him you knew you had lost the battle. You opened your eyes and looked up at him as the tears finally spilled over, as a broken sob finally tore through your throat, leaving you even more empty then you felt before when your eyes locked onto the void of his visor. You wanted to scream at him, tell him how awfully he had hurt you but all you could do was shakingly stand before him and press the med kit even closer against you, clutching onto it to seek some form of comfort you knew only he could give you. 
Din had been prepared for your rage, for angry words thrown against him but he hadn't been prepared for the heartbreaking sight as you broke down right in front of him. And all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms, wipe your tears away and whisper into your ear but he knew he had missed his chance when he had told you he didn't feel the same… 
"I'm sorry." 
His voice was soft and filled with regret-no, stop. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to remember why you were standing before him, crying your eyes out right in front of him. He had broke your heart. He didn't feel the same. There was no regret. There couldn't be regret in his voice it must have been something else. But then he repeated it. "I'm sorry" over and over again under his breath, his voice shaking. And you knew it was regret that made it shake with emotion. And you knew he meant it. You knew he was being honest. But all that didn't fix it, all that didn't make it any less painful. "Please, stop" you begged and tugged at his hand that was still curled around your wrist. Your voice sounded foreign, so unlike you, almost strangely heavy as you whispered those words. "There is nothing left to say." 
You freed yourself from his grip and took one step back, giving him one last, sad look before you turned around to walk out of the cockpit. Only for him to stop you once more. With his hands on your shoulders he turned you back around. And before you could realize what he was doing he had already pushed the med kit out of your arms and to the floor as he pulled you against him. His arms wrapped around your shoulders and back, they kept you pressed against his chest. He still hadn't put his armor back on so instead of the cold beskar you were used to you were pressed against the warmth of his skin from underneath the flight suit. The warmth you had missed and craved so much. The warmth that now felt like it burned you and it took everything in you not to hiss in pain. When your mind finally caught back on, on what was happening you immediately went completely rigid in his embrace. And when those words left the savity of his helmet once more you pushed against him, clawed against his chest to try and get away. "No!" you cried out loudly. "You don't get to break my heart and hug me later!" Another wave of tears crashed over you and another storm of emotions laced up your throat but you forced yourself to stay at the surface, to not get pulled down by the waves. "You can't do that!" you sobbed, not able to hold the words back anymore. "You can't make me believe you love me and then- I can't believe I was stupid enough to believe you might have really felt the same. I-" "Stop that, you're not stupid" he whispered. You wanted to say more but the firmness in his voice made you close your mouth as you stopped fighting against him. Giving up you let him hold you pressed against his chest. "You're not stupid." As new tears welled up in your eyes you slowly wrapped your arms around him, too. Ignoring that he was the source of your pain, ignoring that he was the one pushing those spikes into your heart deeper and deeper with every passing day. You ignored all that and instead let yourself melt into the warmth and comfort of his embrace you had craved for so long.
"You aren't stupid, you… I- I lied" he continued. "I do feel the same for you."
Your breath hitched in your throat but you kept your head pressed against his chest, too scared to look up and see that maybe everything was just a dream, that everything was just a figment of your imagination and broken beart. Surely you must have imagined his voice, his words. But then he repeated them. 
"I lied." 
"Why?" you asked before you could bite your tongue. "Why did you lie? Why did you do this to me then? Why?" your tears were audible in the way your voice shook and trembled and in the way you clutched at the fabric of his flight suit, seeking halt, seeking answers. Din sighed deeply, you felt his chest rise and lower slowly as you hugged him tighter. "Din, why?" "I-" he began, his voice trembling just as much. His heart was beating so heavily against his ribs you could feel it hammering against your own chest.
"I don't deserve you." 
You wanted to look up, you wanted to meet his visor again but he placed his chin on top of your head, forcing you to stay pressed against him with your head lowered. It felt like he didn't want you to see him right now, like he was afraid of your eyes. As if he was afraid to see agreement in them. "Din-" you began but he interrupted you by him continuing his explanation. "I'm not the man you deserve. You deserve better than me. Someone who's not as broken, not as defective, not… I'm not as good as you think I am." You wrapped your arms tighter around him as he began to shake and then furrowed your brows, somehow feeling angry that he would think that way about himself. "You arent broken and you aren't defective!" you began again, forcing your voice to sound strong and to blink the tears away. "You are a good man, Din." "I hurt you!" he objected and buried his fingers into the fabric of your shirt, seeking halt and comfort just like you. "All I wanted was to protect you from... me. But all I did was hurting you instead." For a few seconds you didn't say anything, your chaotic thoughts racing in your mind in circles again and again. This wasn't what you had expected when he had grabbed your wrist. And you had no idea what you were supposed to do now. You still felt hurt but the anger had vanished. But without the anger the pain just felt more present. And even though he had explained to you why he had done it... it would still hurt for a long while. The fact that he didn't feel like he deserved you, that he didn't deserve happiness was heartbreaking. 
"You did hurt me" you agreed truthfully as you swallowed down another wave of tears, putting on a strong face instead. "And I don't agree with the reason why but… it's okay." You slowly freed yourself from his embrace and took one step back. His arms were still loosely wrapped around you but his visor was lowered, staring at the floor instead of at you. "No, I'm not… it's not-" "Stop" you interrupted him firmly and then softly placed your hands on each side of his helmet, forcing him to look up and at you. When your eyes finally locked onto the blackness of his visor, on his eyes that were hiding underneath, you took a deep breath. "I decide who I deserve" you declared. "It's my decision who I give my heart to." Din nodded slowly in understanding while you collected all your strength for the next words you wanted to say. "You hurt me deeply." Din noticeably flinched at that but didn't speak up or try to move away from you. "But I'm ready to forgive you" you continued honestly. "I still feel the same, I still-" Your voice failed you, your throat hoarse and tired after all the crying but you forced yourself to carry on. "Are you ready to give us a change?" Din didn't hesitate one second, his ungloved hand shooting up to cup your cheek in a soothing manner. "Yes, I'm ready. I want this-" he faltered a bit and hesitantly wiped away the last traces the tears had left on your skin. "I want this if you want me?" "Maker, yes" you whispered breathlessly. You placed one hand on top of his that was still resting on your face, letting yourself really feel his skin for the first time. You felt the roughness of his hand, the little scars that littered the back of it. But all you could think about was how soft and gentle they were when he let his fingers slowly dance over your skin. How delicately he always touched you. But those small touches suddenly didn't feel enough anymore. Gently you curled your fingers around his and tugged lightly at them. 
"I've been waiting so long... I can't be patient anymore" you whispered and let your eyes flutter close before you placed his hand over them. The clutter of his helmet landing on the floor was left unnoticed when you finally felt his lips on yours.
_________________________________ 
Does the ending feel a little rushed? Maybe. Do I care? Nope.
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Taglists:
Permanent Simps: @buckysalefty
Din Djarin Simps: @theflightytemptressadventure / @sarahjkl82-blog / @remmysbounty / @undeniableadrenaline / @kassidydjarin / @freeshavocadoooo / @dindaddy-ficrec / @wonderless-screwup / @helena-way07 / @n0ffitar / @24-blackbirds / @thethunderstormsgirl / @mylifeofcalculatedchaos / @mandos-co / @smoldjarin​
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headinthestaticsky · 3 years
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The Dusk Calls for me: Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan, Chapter 15 FINALE
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AUTHORS NOTES: This is a long one folks... hope you like it.
 ALL THE CHARACTERS IN TWILIGHT DO NOT BELONG TO ME! ALL RIGHTS GO TO STEPHENIE MEYER!
WARNINGS: Violence
“Before you slip into unconsciousness I'd like to have another kiss Another flashing chance at bliss Another kiss, another kiss.” 
Crystal Ship by: The Doors.
POV: BELLA’S
I slowly opened the ballet studio doors, I peaked around each side of the room before entering. It was quiet, and I didn’t see mom anywhere the entire room was void of people. 
“BELLA? BELLA? WHERE ARE YOU!?!”
I knew it, I knew Fleur was wrong... mom was here!
“MOM?”
“BELLA!”
“I’m coming mom!”
I ran to the end of the studio and opened the door, my heart sunk into my stomach... It was a TV, of an old home video mom took of me when I was a kid.
“Oh there you are! What are you doing in here?” My mom said.
“Mommy, I suck.” I said back to her, she gasp.
“You do not suck!”
I heard a laugh, it was deep, my blood had run cold, I knew who that voice was. My breath had started to stutter, but I face him. His body was imprinted on every mirror in the room.
“That’s my favorite part... You were a stubborn child weren’t you? Hmm?” James walked up to me, he petted the side of my head before pushing me against a wall.
“S-she’s not even here.”
“No.” He pushed his face closer to mine, breathing me in.
“I’m sorry... but you really made things too easy for me... so to make it up to you. I’m going to make a little film of our time together. I stole this from your house... I hope you don’t mind. And... action. Oh, this will just break Edward little heart.” 
I glanced up, I thought my mind was deceiving me... I saw Fleur, she was holding a rock in her hands. She brought her finger up to her lips and silently shushed me.
“Ed-Edward has NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS.” I said, I pushed myself up but I was pushed right back against the wall.
“Oh but he does, his rage will make for a much more interesting sport than his feeble attempt to protect you... and let’s continue.
“HEY!” 
James turned around, before he could say anything a rock was thrown right at his head. His skin had a slight crack in it... he looked pissed. When he turned back around to me I sprayed him in the eyes with my pepper spray. I took off Fleur waiting for me halfway in the room. She grabbed my hand and made a rush to the door but James jumped right in front of us. He grabbed me and threw me into a glass podium. He then turned toward Fleur, a deadly look was in his eyes.
“BELLA!” She screamed.
POV CHANGE: Fleur
All the fear had left my body as soon as I saw him... it was as if adrenaline had taken over me. I threw that rock with all my might, hoping to damage him in someway. I saw the slightest crack on him, and I got him to divert his attention toward me for a second. Bella and I then ran for the door but James got in our way. He threw Bella into a glass podium and then turned around to face me. The fear still didn’t enter my being, I was beginning to wonder if I had a death wish at this point. Before I could react James grabbed me by the back of my hair and turned me around to face the mirror. He slammed my head into the floor. He lifted my head back up and made my look at my now bloody appearance in the mirror.
“Jasper... he is just as pathetic as Edward... he left you this, fragile, idiotic human... He didn’t have the strength to turn you. You make this hunt much more...fun.” He licked the side of my head, drinking my blood in the process.
“You think your so amazing? I’ve seen the way you hunt and track people... It’s mediocre at best.” I spat back out, I could hear Bella groaning in pain in the background.
“How have you seen me? If I sensed you were there I would’ve eaten you up too.”
“I’ve had dreams, I was in that slut of your’s body Victoria... I saw how you hunted, it’s pathetic.”
“...You’re lying...”
“Oh yeah... does this sound familiar to you?”
“It’s always the same, inane questions. Who are you?” 
“What do you want?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“James... let’s not play with our food.”
“How in the hell could you be able to do that...You’re human, nothing more, nothing less.” James said, his grip tightened on my hair, he teeth were clinched. He was seething in pure anger.
“That doesn’t matter...” I said my dark brown eyes glaring back up at him through the mirror.
“All I know is Jasper is going to kick your ASS!”
James dragged me away from the mirror, bringing me to Bella.  He then set the camera down and grabbed both of our legs. Breaking them instantly Bella had started to scream but I held it.
“It doesn’t hurt...nothing is cracking... nothing has broken.... I will not give him that satisfaction of him knowing he hurt me.” I thought.
“Tell them how much it hurts.... tell them to avenge you!”
“NO EDWARD DON’T”
“That means you too...tell poor ol’ Jasper how much it hurts.”
I didn’t budge, he then let go of Bella��s leg and grabbed both of mine, He hurled me threw me through one of the mirrors. A large piece of glass was impaled into my side he then dragged my through the glass, my back getting cut along the way. He then dropped me  and turned to go back to Bella but before he could someone had knocked him out of the way. I then heard a bang against one of the mirrors.
“You got here first... because your fast than the others... but not stronger.” James said.
“I’m strong enough to kill you!” He then kicked James back, I couldn’t tell where though. The room was starting to spin, It felt like I was floating. I could tell who it was though it was Edward, he looked between Bella and I not knowing who to go to. He turned his head to me before muttering a “I’m sorry Fleur” to me. 
This was it, I was going to die here...Edward was going to take Bella and leave me here. I saw him jump up in the air toward a window but James had grabbed him and drug him and Bella back down to the ground. I was gasping at this point, the pain and loss of blood was starting to take it’s toll on me. I heard Bella scream in extreme pain, I knew James had bitten her right then and there. I couldn’t even say anything, I had blacked out. Muffled screams and voices had come into my sense of hearing. I woke up after being shaken by someone.
“Hey, hey, darlin, look at me. You’re going to be fine.”
“J-jasper?” I said... I didn’t recognize my own voice, it was weak and frail.
“Yeah, it’s me... you need to stay awake for me okay? C’mon let me see those beautiful eyes huh?” 
My eyes opened slightly I could see the blurry image of a fire with Alice, Dean and Emmett fighting for something to go in it. I felt a gigantic pressure on my side and hissed. I began to fade out again.
“Hey, hey... c’mon keep your eyes open... you have to stay awake! You can’t forget about what you told me in your room that night... 
I weakly grabbed his hand, squeezing as tight as I could.
“Jazz, y-you need t-to go... my blood, you can’t be comfortable right now. He ignored me and continued in on his rant
You told me you’d live... that no matter how much you got hurt... you would live, you would still be human. You can’t break you promise on me now... you need to stay awake. Fleur? FLEUR!”
My world faded to black again, the sound I heard was the beeping of a machine, it smelt like I was in a hospital. My eyes twitched and I heard rustling on the side of the room.
“Petal? Are you waking up?” It was my dad’s voice... relief filled my body, he was okay. I finally opened my eyes, they were burned by the bright fluorescent lights in the room.
“Dad?”
“Hey petal, you feeling okay?”
I tried to sit up but, a stinging sensation on my side made me lay back down.
“I’ve been better.”
“When I got the call from Jasper, my heart dropped... I didn’t think I would ever see you again.” Dad said, he grabbed my hand and held it tightly.
“I’m here... just a little beaten up right now.”
“Jasper has been here ever since you came in, he hasn’t eaten or drunken anything... in 3 days. I’ve tried to get him to eat something but he would budge. You picked a good one Petal, I’ve never seen so much dedication for someone before.”
“So, you aren’t mad at him?”
“Not at all, Edward on the other hand... he needs some work.”
“A lot of work you mean.”
He chuckled 
“Yeah, you got that right.”
“Is Bella okay?”
“Yeah she’s fine... she told me what happened. She said you were chasing her down a flight of stairs in the hotel  when she tripped dragging you down with her... and then you both went through a window! Do you remember any of this?” 
“Nope, none at all.”
“They said you lost a lot of blood due to a piece of glass stabbing you on the side, it was close to hitting the side of your lung. You got stitches over there.”
“Oh, that explains the pain then.”
“Yeah...”
“I can’t wait to go home... I miss it there... and I miss my bed too.”
“The rooms ready for you Petal.”
The hospital room door opened, we both looked up and saw Renee looking in on us.
“She wants to see you.” She then closed the door behind her, not even acknowledging me.
“Well I see she hasn’t changed much.”
“Yeah... not at all.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with her dad.” 
He turned and looked at me, and then he smiled.
“It’s worth it for you.”
“I love you dad.”
“I love you too.” He then left, leaving me alone in the hospital room with Jasper.
“Hey Jazz.”
“Hi Darlin.”
I opened my arms, inviting him in for a hug. He accepted the invitation immediately.
“I’m so happy to hear your voice again love.” We pulled apart, now facing each other.
“I’m happy to be alive, to be able to see you again. Did you guys get James?”
“Yeah, we got him, boy you should’ve seen Emmett and Dean... they were brutal.”
“I couldn’t of imagined how you felt... I’m sure my blood made you uncomfortable too.”
“You’re the one in the hospital bed... and you’re worrying about me? You did the same thing in the studio. You told me to leave, that you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable around all your blood. You are something special my love, purely amazing.”
“Of course I worry about you Jazz...I love you.”
“I love you too Darlin.”
TIMESKIP: Two week later.
Getting back to Forks was amazing, I never thought I would be so happy to see that small town again. The first week back was rough, I could hardly move, the pain was unbearable at times. The second week was a lot better but, Bella and I haven’t talked much since our fight. The tension was back... and I knew I couldn’t trust her anymore. She was too selfish, too self absorbed, she would risk me and everyone around her just to save herself and Edward. Rosalie and Alice visited me whenever they could and today, the were helping me get ready for prom. I didn’t think I would be able to go but, the pain in my side was nothing more than a annoying throb.
“You guys really don’t have to do this you know...” 
“Yes we do, besides I picked out the dress and I want to see you wear it.” Rosalie said.
“I’ve always wanted to do your makeup and hair... and since I’m here, you can’t stop me now!” Alice exclaimed.
“Alright, alright, make me beautiful!”
A few moments had passed and my make up and hair were done, I was impressed. They really knew what they were doing. I quickly changed into my dress, this was the most beautiful I had felt in the past 2 weeks.
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“You look beautiful.” Rosalie said, she looked at me through the mirror, a smile was on her face.”
“You better go, Jasper’s waiting downstairs with Charlie...”
“Okay, okay, thank you guys.”
We all three hooked arms with each other and made our way downstairs. Jasper and Dad sat up walking toward the stairs, they both smiled at me.
“You look gorgeous.” Jasper said.
“Thank you, you look great. Just ignore the cast... it’s a lot...”
Jasper wrapped his arm gingerly around my waist and kissed my cheek.
“You two have have fun, stay safe.” Dad said.
“We will dad.” 
Rosalie, Alice, Jasper and I all made our way outside, Emmett and Dean were waiting for us. 
The drive was nice, it gave me a sense f peace after everything that had happened to me. I wish I could keep this feeling this forever, I felt safe, loved. Jasper had helped me out of the car and guided me through the front of the building. We got our pictures taken and made our way inside... it was a bit chaotic. I looked around and saw Angela and Eric, she looked at me and waved happily. I of course, returned the gesture. I then saw Jessica with Mike, she was posing and taking pictures. When she saw me I gave her a thumbs and mouthed,”You look incredible.” She mouthed back, “you do too!” 
“Come with me, love.” I heard Jasper say, he pulled my attention back to him.
I he pulled me towards the outside of the building, it was secluded. The lights from the inside and the gazebo gave it and warming glow. He turned to face me and grabbed my hands. He pulled my on top of his feet and then began to dance.
“This isn’t how I exactly envisioned this moment but, the one part I knew would happen is still here.” I said.
“And what would that be?”
“That I’d be dancing with you.”
“Looking you over, and you don’t know my name yet.
By the time you looked away I already knew I couldn’t fake it.
I got this need for you, forming in my beating heart.
I knew the meaning right away, when only yesterday were worlds apart.”
“I’m glad I got to be apart of it with you.” Jasper said
“I do too, the happiness you’ve made me feel, is always the best I’ve ever felt.”
“You brought me back to life, love.”
“And you brought even more life to me.”
“I think I may love you, 
If you give my sometime,
Maybe you’ll love me too.”
“I got this need for you, if you come closer I can whisper in your ear.
And if you wanna walk away 
I’ll tell you all the things I know you’d wanna hear.”
“You know... I was talking with Edward he told me some things about Bella.” Jasper said.
“What would that be?”
“Bella is in desperate need to become a vampire now.”
“Wow...”
“So I wanted to ask you... are you in desperate need to become one too?”
“ I mean... I would love to spend eternity with you but... it’s way too soon for me to change. I’m not ready to leave dad yet...”
“That’s a relief to here love.”
“If I were to get changed so soon... It would have to be because I’m about to die... I won’t do it any other way.”
“I promise I won’t change you unless I absolutely have too.”
“I’ll come closer,
To you if you
Come over
I know we’ll go farther
Farther with you
With you I’m in warm water swimming down.”
“I love you Jasper Hale.”
“I love you Fleur Swan.”
“With you I’m in warm water swimming down.”
Warm Water by, BANKS.
END OF BOOK 1
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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years
Text
Drop off Point | SPN Brothers
Warnings; language, anger, arguing
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There was no place like home, but the thing was, that you didn’t have one. Each day, you went from motel room to motel room, sometimes you would even sleep in the back of the impala, whist your brothers sat in the front, somehow gaining rest in those uncomfortable, upright positions.
Dad was gone, and left you primarily in Dean’s custody, and with having Sam back, he managed to get your brother to cut you some slack. Dean was a wreck without John, he was desperate to discover your father’s whereabouts, and his decisions made you feel as though you were not as desperate to find where he had gone.
Being a Winchester came with plenty of perks, you got to see so many places in a short span of time, it made it feel as though the world was underneath your fingertip. However, having the attributes of being a teenager, and a girl, didn’t mix well with your suggestions or desires to hunt for the parent that had raised you.
And that left you here, cruising in the backseat of Dean’s beloved vehicle, taking the turns to reach Bobby’s. The elder of your brother had said he needed to stock up on supplies, such as dead man’s blood and so on, in case he picked up on any monsters on his journey.
But the travel was not just his, you and Sam were there too. He had even gone to nab Samuel from his escape, and drag him into the putridness of this life once more, all for the man that spawned you all.
“Hey kid.” Bobby stepped down from his porch, his shoes crinkling upon the gravel. He greeted the boys with hugs, and a set smile occupied his face as he looked at you, it almost screamed relief. “I got everything you boys need, come on.”
The lot of you trailed after the elder hunter, who adjusted his baseball cap as he escorted the three of you into the main room, the devil’s trap brandishing the floor, and scurried piles of books taking up the rest of the space.
“Cool, you got the good stuff.” Dean clapped his hands together as he dug through the small arsenal, dragging out a small blade.
“That there was smelted with dead man’s blood, it’ll murder those suckers straight away.” Bobby spoke, watching as Dean pocketed some items. Sam dropped a bag on the floor, a guilty, disobedient dog expression clouding his face.
It wasn’t any bag, it belonged to you. The satchel contained a few articles of clothing that were clean and a couple of books that you had nabbed from libraries that you had passed through. “Why’d you bring that in?” You asked suspiciously, having an inkling of a feeling as to the reason.
“Sorry.” Sam muttered, he had truly missed you whilst he had been away, and he hated the idea of being subdued into saying goodbye. But this wasn’t his complete choice, your other sibling had entirely taken control of the decision.
“You’re staying here (Y/N/N), at least until we find dad.” Dean admitted, coming to walk closer to you to strangle you in an embrace, however, you were keen to take a step back, denying his request.
“This is ridiculous.” You scoffed, face red from hurt and anger. He had no right to swerve you from the path that you were hellbent on, it was not up to him. “I want to go with you!”
Perhaps it was a peculiar ambition, but in this life, family was everything. It was the code that you had been raised to, and you’d be damned if you were to insult it by giving it nothing but disregard. If it were you that were missing, everyone would be searching, Dean would send everyone out to enquire and look, no matter their gender or age.
And just because you were his sister, he thought that he could put his foot down. It never changed, he was continuously overprotective, it felt as though you were consistently travelling in a cage, a child lock on in the back seats of Baby, rather than being giving a sense of free will. Instead there was no freedom, only constricting bars that kept you in the line of sight and knowledge of your brothers.
“Well too bad sweetheart, you’re staying put here under Bobby’s supervision.” He retorted sufficiently pressing the sole of his shoe upon the wooden flooring on this matter. Dean wised not to argue, but it was where his conspiring opinion ended up taking the pair of you, Bobby scratched his head agitatedly, understanding the reasons for Dean’s red anger, however it was inevitable that one day, you’d be old enough to make your own decisions, and no doubt you would go head first into these dangerous situations. It was how he could tell how related you were to your brothers, even if you had a different mother from the infamous sons of John Winchester.
“Screw you Dean! You’re supposed to be the one looking after me, and here you are, loading me off to someone else. I hate you so much right now.” The words couldn’t be restrained, they tumbled out, and currently you couldn’t care less. Anger was taking the driver’s seat, and it was veering into a crash, one that Sam could see without his ‘psychic’ abilities.
“Don’t say that (Y/N).” Another order, how Dean like. It was such a typical trait that he reverberated from his chest, as though he was constantly the one in charge. The way he bossed people about was far too familiar, and it repulsed you. He was acting as another man in your life, the one that dragged the lot of you around like dogs, pulling on the leashes to keep you all in line.
“You’re not dad, so stop trying to be him!” Dean could only freeze upon receiving your words, as you heavily breathed, wound up from the spitting of conflicting interests. Another instant spewing of hurtful comments were attempting to be catapulted from the void of your mouth, but Sam hissed as he came to stand in front of you, clearly disappointed in your behaviour.
“You know (Y/N), I told Dean that he should give you a chance, although you deserve a life better than we got. Not because it could raise our chances and hopes of finding dad, but because it was what you wanted. But I’ve changed my mind, and I think you should stay here a while, until you are grown up enough to be on the road with us.”
His scolding made you bow your head down, almost ashamed of yourself, before you glanced at the trio of men in the room one last time, grabbing your man and escalating upstairs to a spare room. Sam gulped, knowing that he had silenced the poison in the blood you all shared, however he could only hope that you would understand why he was so inclined to get involved.
It caused him pain, knowing that you, his baby sister wanted to be neck deep in this chaotic life, when he had wanted out. The logic of it didn’t feel right, it only showed as evidence that you too had been brought up loved, yet in a toxic childhood. The inclination, the loyalty you had for fighting was a flaw, it was not something that hunters wanted to do, but instead rather something that they had to.
Sam sighed as he put the phone down in his lap, Dean was in the driver’s seat, his jaw clenched. “No answer?” He asked expectedly, to which the eldest received an affirmative nod. It was frustrating to know that this all uprose from them wanting to keep her safe.
“Bobby said that she’s okay.” Sam spoke in the music of the air con. “She’s actually getting pretty good at combat, hell it’s been six months. Her head is on straight, she knows that she’s good at what she’s doing. But-“
“She still refuses to speak to us.” Dean completed his sentence, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. His knuckles grew white from the pressure he held onto the remote with, his tongue clicking as he pushed away the guilt. That was only permitted recognition when he was alone, he’d never admit to anyone that he may have made a bad decision, all because his sister was alive and breathing, (Y/N) was okay, even if she refused contact with them.
“We should see her Dean.” Sam stated. He had wanted to for so long, he hated how absent the backseat was, and how there seemed to be a lack of the scent of female deodorant.
“Next stop, Bobby’s.”
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let-them-read-fics · 4 years
Text
Winner Takes All
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Drum roll please....🥁.... I'm very happy to present to you: the return of Gamer Jisoo and her infamous Pikachu hat. I know I know, very exciting.
Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader
Word Count: ~ 4,479
Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff Galore, A Few Curse Words
Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.
A/N: First off I'd like to thank you guys for the love on my other gaming fic; seeing you enjoy my work really encourages me. With that being said, I should note that I don't know much about gaming conventions -- I apologize if I get some details wrong in this writing. I hope you enjoy it regardless. Happy reading!
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
“Lisa, I’m scared! What if she tackles me? You know how she can get when she’s excited…”
The throaty chuckle that leaves the maknae works to calm you down, and you find yourself smiling despite the nerves. “The girls and I will be there to keep you safe, don’t worry. Jisoo-monster can’t hurt you.” 
You shake your head as you grab the tickets, stuffing them in your pocket and mentally preparing yourself for the surprise. Lisa takes your hand and drags you out the door in a rush, her happiness plain to see.
~~~
The sounds of your foot falls against the linoleum work in tandem with the beating of your heart, and you do your best to conceal your grin. The last thing you want to do is give the plan away at the last second. 
Upon opening the door, you find the other 3 girls sprawled out on the floor in various positions, bodies exhausted from dance practice. So much for protecting you. 
“Where were you guys? We were starting to get worried.”
When you take too long to reply, Jennie raises up onto her elbows, narrowing her eyes. “Y/N…”
Shit. You’re toast. The girls’ eyes search the two of you quizzically while your brain goes into overdrive in an attempt to find a believable excuse. Everyone knows you’re a bad liar, and you’ve just been caught in the act.
“LisawashelpingmewithasurpriseforJisoo.”
The words leave your lips in a rush, but your girlfriend doesn’t miss her name being thrown in there at the end. Her eyes dart up to yours, and she perks up.
“OYE! What was that?” 
Releasing a sigh, you repeat yourself. “Lisa was helping me with a surprise for you.”
Jisoo’s stupid smirk from across the room makes you giggle, and you roll your eyes. She stands up and walks over, wrapping her arms around you. 
"A surprise, huh?" She asks cutely, her eyes shining even brighter than usual as she raises her eyebrows repeatedly like a dork. Both of your smiles widen as you nod at her, allowing your hands to run through her mussed hair. Seeing her so excited makes everything worth it, and you know you'd spend every dollar to your name in order to keep her as happy as this; she deserves nothing less. 
As she leans in to press a kiss against your lips, her hands work their way down to your hips, resting there. Too caught up in the moment, you fail to realize that her fingers have hooked their way into your pockets. 
Her lips vibrate against yours as she lets out a confused mumble, her fingertips brushing over the foreign material. She gets the jump on you, quickly snatching the tickets from your jeans, and you watch her face as she reads them.
Every moment that passes feels like an eternity, the air void of any sound as you and the girls wait to see her reaction. She's still just staring at them, running a finger across the material as she rereads the info printed there. A pang of insecurity runs through you at her continuous silence, and you can't help but speak up.
"I know they're not the premium access ones, but we still get to--"
"They're absolutely perfect, Y/N. I don't know what to say." Her voice is gentle and quiet, and your heart softens at how precious she looks right now. 
"You didn't have to do all of this for me." She says, unbelieving that she deserves such a gift. Determined to remind her of how much she means to you, you cup her cheek and coax her into looking into your eyes. 
"After everything you do for me, this is the least I could do, baby. You're worth every bit of it and then some. I can't wait to take you." 
She pulls you up against her again, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as she whispers words of gratitude and praise into your ear. 
A minute later she pulls away to give everyone in the room a warning. 
"Prepare yourselves -- incoming scream in 3...2...1…"
Jennie, Lisa, and Rosé all scramble to the farthest corner of the room, tripping and sliding the entire way while you just cover your ears and laugh. They look like characters out of an episode of Scooby Doo. 
"AHHHH I love them!" She suddenly shouts, throwing her hands up into the air triumphantly as she does a little happy dance with the tickets. Her joy is contagious, and soon the rest of you are all bouncing around with her in celebration. 
-----
"Ready, my love?" 
Upon poking your head into Jisoo's room, you find her sitting at her vanity, smoothing out her hair before she puts on her signature Pikachu hat. 
"Just a minute." She responds, sending you a soft smile through the mirror. You lean against the door frame to admire her until she's done, studying how elegant she looks while doing even the simplest thing. How you managed to get so lucky is beyond you, but you thank your lucky stars for her every day. 
Once she's finished, she turns around in her chair to get a good look at you. A light pattern of blush rises to her cheeks at the way you're looking at her, head over heels and hopelessly devoted. A grin tugs at her lips as she approaches you, dusting off your shoulders and fixing your shirt just like a married couple would. 
"I'm so in love with you." 
Jisoo's heart speeds up at your words, still getting just as giddy as it did the first time you confessed to her. She bats her eyelashes and looks at you as if you hold the key to the universe. 
"No way! Me too; I'm pretty great, aren't I?" She plays, making you roll your eyes and laugh. Of course she has to mess with you in the middle of a serious moment. 
"I'm kidding. I love you more and more every day, Y/N." She says, taking your hands within her own as she loops them around her waist. Her eyes meet yours again, and she leans in to kiss your cheek. 
"Now come on or we'll be late. I can't wait to school you!" She says, sticking her tongue out at you. 
"Oh you are so going down. Just don't cry when I beat you." You retort, mocking her as you pout and make your lip tremble. 
She playfully pushes you out the door, cackling as you almost fall. You say goodbye to the girls, making sure to give them all big hugs before leaving the dorm. 
----
The convention center is bigger than you had ever imagined it'd be. Past the security line at the entrance, the space opens up immensely with two large hallways sprawling off on either side of the main performance room. High ceilings tower overhead, their support beams decorated with various posters and guides. Some staff members sit at a long line of tables to greet guests and offer information about the scheduled events. 
"Good afternoon, ladies. How're you doing today?" One of them asks as you approach.
"Good, thank you. And you?" Jisoo says, smiling excitedly. 
"I'm doing just fine. Is there anything I can help you with?" The woman is kind; you like her. 
"Do you by chance have a map?" You inquire.
She nods, reaching underneath the table to fish the complimentary guide out of one of the boxes. 
"Here you go." 
"Thank you very much. I think this is all we need; have a great day!" You cheerily reply, bowing your head to show gratitude. 
"You're welcome. Come back if you have any more questions; we hope you two enjoy your experience with us!" She sends you one last smile as you step out of line and allow the next guest to take your place. 
After scanning your eyes across the busy area, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all that's going on, you spot some tables near the large front windows of one of the expo halls. 
You direct Jisoo's attention to them, and you swiftly make your way over there. 
"Be cool -- I snuck us in some snacks because everything here is overpriced as hell." 
You whisper to her, stealing a glance around the two of you before opening your coat like some sort of drug dealer. She lets out a little giggle as she eyes the assortment of candies and food you brought, saying: "You smart." 
"Alright, let's plan out our route."
She nods in agreement, pulling a chair up next to yours so you both can look at the map. 
Various fandoms have booths and rooms set up throughout the building -- everything from movies and tv shows, to any video game you can think of. Because of the scope of experiences offered, the tickets weren't easy to come by: you had to pay a pretty penny to even get the "cheap" option. Nevertheless, that's the last thing on your mind as you notice how happy Jisoo is right now. Her eyes dart across the paper, taking in all of the different sections and committing them to memory. 
"I heard that the Harry Potter wing has butterbeer…" you start, nudging her shoulder with a smile. 
She lights up at this, quickly deciding that you should start your trip there. "Okay, let's begin with it. Then we can check out some of the other movie franchises in that hall, and come over to the video games after." 
You glance down at your phone to check the time before adding, "That'll work out perfectly. Overwatch and PUBG are having major tournaments later, so we'll be there in time." 
She stands up to snatch a pen from one of the nearby help stands, and returns to her seat soon after. A scribbling noise can be heard as she circles the different places you want to go, adding stars beside the ones you guys are most excited for. 
"Done!" She declares, placing the cap back on the pen and setting it to the side. 
"Lead the way, pretty girl." You purr, grinning at the way her eyes turn into those famous little crescents as she smiles. She slips her hand into yours, interlocking your fingers as the two of you begin your journey.
----
"Y/N IT'S SO ADORABLE!" She yells, pointing to one of the Animal Crossing plushies that adorns the table in front of you. You push the brim of your newly-purchased Star Wars hat out of the way so you can get a better look at what she's talking about.
"Awww." You coo, reaching into your pocket to grab your wallet without hesitation. After buying it for her, you have her stand by one of the latest posters so you can have a mini photoshoot. 
"You're so beautiful." 
She loses focus on posing for the camera now, her eyes shifting from the lens to your own. You nearly melt from the look of pure adoration she's sending you, and she takes that as her opportunity to compliment you back. 
"And you're the cutest thing ever." You hide behind your hands, shielding your blushing cheeks from further scrutiny. 
"Stop it." You command, feeling her arms snake around your waist as she approaches you. 
"Never," she starts, pulling your hands away so she can pepper kisses across your face. "I'll spend every day reminding you how precious you are." 
"Ya know, my heart really can't take all of this love. I'm surprised it hasn't burst yet." 
"Well it'll just have to get used to it." She declares, nodding curtly with a final look of determination taking over her features. 
"I'm in love with a dork, everyone." You say to an imaginary audience, taking a step back as you motion to Jisoo. She slaps your shoulder playfully before dragging you to the next booth.
---
For the past 2 and half hours, the two of you have hit up just about every spot you intended to. You've accumulated bagfuls of bracelets, necklaces, shirts, and other memorabilia from nearly every shop you visited, and the thought makes you happy. Jisoo can decorate the dorm with her figurines and merch, and she'll be reminded of today every time she sees them. 
"The big Overwatch match is about to start, so we can check it out until the PUBG one begins, if you want." 
"Okay, but can you help me put this necklace on before we go?" 
You nod in affirmation, taking her over to a nearby bench to set your things down and help her. She scoots up next to you and pulls her hair to the side as you fasten the small clip behind her neck. The piece matches yours, and you grin as her fingers come up to toy with the material. 
She spins around to face you as she expresses her thanks, quickly moving on to rant about the tournaments. She giggles eagerly, mind completely wrapped up with thoughts of the games as she gushes about the things she's looking forward to.
You're doing your best -- honestly, you really are -- but Jisoo's lips look so kissable right now that you can't help but lose focus. They purse and pout as she rambles on, and you do your best not to stare. 
You fail miserably, though -- after finding that your eyes have been nearly glued to her lips for the past 5 minutes, your gaze always dropping back down to those heart shaped pillows, Jisoo smirks. The sight makes you weak in the knees but you try not to show it.
"Awww, does somebody want a kiss?" She teases, making kissy noises at you while you blush and look away. 
"Yeah, and what about it?" You challenge, turning back to her. 
Content with how much she's teased you (for now), she rests a hand on the back of your neck as she draws you in closer to her body. Her other hand rests on your thigh, rubbing small circles onto the material of your pants. The moment is innocent enough at first, but the combination of her soft lips against yours and her ministrations on your leg soon makes your blood pressure rise. 
Feeling the stares of other guests passing by, you decide to pull away. She chases your lips, though, pressing one more peck to them before looking into your eyes. 
Your pupils are blown wide; your lips a little darker now, and Jisoo pats herself on the back. You're artwork to her, and she loves to see what she's capable of doing to you. 
"If you keep looking at me like that then we’re gonna miss a big portion of this match.” You say lowly, just loud enough for her to hear. Her eyebrows raise in surprise at what your words imply, and her lips settle in their famous heart pose. 
"Come on then, let's go inside." She says, tugging you up along with her. You guys will have plenty of time for that, later; for now, the most important thing is the event.
-------
Upon entering the spacious room, your ears are filled with theme music being played over the speakers. Chatter from fellow fans can be heard as well, and you take a moment to look around. 
Countless rows of chairs stretch out in front of you, all neatly lined up towards the large stage across the room. A vast majority of them are already taken, but you happen to spot 2 empty ones in what appears to be the 4th row.
"Come on, let's grab those seats." You say, pulling her from her geeked-out stupor. She continues to gape at the layout of the room as you lead her to the chairs, her eyes wide in wonder. Large projectors on either side of the stage take turns displaying pictures of the starting players from both teams. Multicolored lights also shine at various points throughout the room, moving about in predetermined patterns and motions as they cycle. 
Within 10 minutes, the elite players make their entrance, sending the room wild. Introductions are made, and they all take their seats at the different computers lined up on stage. 
"How's everyone doing?" The MC's strong voice booms into the microphone, echoing loudly across the performance hall. The crowd shouts its response and you laugh at how loud Jisoo bellows out her own. 
"We have an amazing set for you here tonight. Teams from across the world have flown in to compete for the 150,000 dollar cash prize, as well as the title of Overwatch league champions!"
The teams clap along at this, some pumping themselves up for the match while others try to appear cocky and unaffected. 
"Our first teams, hailing from the US and Australia, are beyond excited to be here. Let's give them a hand!" He steps back to allow the cameras to get the best possible view of the gamers, and the footage is cast onto big banners hanging from the ceiling. Now everyone, regardless of how far back they're sitting, are able to see them well. 
After the MC interacts with the crowd a little more and some of the players speak to their supporters, the match begins.
Jisoo is never very far from you, always close enough to point out certain things that she notices and comment on their techniques. She's like a sponge, soaking in the different ways to improve her own skills. As much as you love video games yourself, it's hard to pay attention to the game when she looks so unbelievably happy. 
Many rounds later, after the winners are announced, you cross your fingers and take a deep breath. There's one final thing that you didn't tell Jisoo about earlier...
"Now, it's time for what you've all been waiting for! We'll be selecting 3 audience members to join us on stage and play against one another. Let's see who wants a spot!"
The MC shouts cheerily with that million dollar smile plastered onto his face. It's easy to see that he loves his job, and you've enjoyed watching him interact with everyone tonight. 
The large crowd erupts at this and you have to fight to contain your knowing smile. You really have a knack for surprises.
"Jisoo, baby, stand over here. I think you'll be able to get their attention better." 
A subtle nod passes between you and the event organizer you met with earlier, and he says something into his headset. Thankfully Jisoo hadn't questioned why your previous "bathroom break" took 10 minutes, and you were able to make an arrangement with the staff. 
"Pick me!"
"OVER HERE!" 
"I can beat 'em!"
Various shouts and whistles sound out around the venue, all the hopeful candidates vying for the MC's attention. He leans down to listen to his assistant when she taps on his shoulder, informing him of your plan. With a smile slowly spreading across his lips, he looks in your direction and his eyes lock with yours. "Alright, everyone. Who thinks they've got what it takes?" He asks, walking down the stage stairs until he's face to face with the sizable audience. The cameras track his every move as he slowly walks up the large center aisle, some people clapping and reaching to high five him. "The three people I select will compete in a free-for-all for first place. The winner gets 200 dollars and a t-shirt signed by our league champions." His announcement spurs the crowd on even more, somehow, and they cheer at such a great prize. "You, with the Call of Duty shirt!" He calls into the mic, pointing to a teenage boy who looks like he's about to pass out from being noticed. He joins the MC, and together they make their slow voyage towards the back of the room. 
"You, miss, with the Smite hat!" The young woman celebrates with her friend, and you smile as you watch them do a special handshake on the jumbo screen. 
Now, with two enthusiastic players in tow, the MC ambles his way back up to the front. He tries not to make it obvious that he already knows who the final pick is, and thankfully he's a skilled actor. He knows just how to keep the crowd excited and make them think they still stand a chance. 
"Yes, yes, I see that you're all eager to show your talents. But earning this final spot will take some convincing. Quick, everyone strike an epic player pose!" 
Collective shuffling from the audience sounds out in waves as people scoot their chairs out of the way to make room for their stances. Jisoo, however, takes a different approach: with a steadying hand on your shoulder, she places one foot on each of your seats and stands proudly. One of her hands sits on her hip while the other rests an invisible gun on her shoulder. She glances at the MC with a raised brow and steely look in her eye.
Damn, she's good. After seeing how well she's doing right now, you doubt that she even needed your help in the first place. That makes you feel a little better about rigging the results, so it's a true win-win. 
"Pikachu hat, it's your time to shine!" He laughs, motioning for her to come over. In an instant, her previously cool demeanor crumbles and she's left looking like a giddy little girl. She gives you a sweet hug before walking over to the trio. 
-----
After introducing themselves to the room, the 3 hopefuls all sit down next to each other. You can see them eyeing the winners that have gathered around to cheer them on, more star struck than competitive in that moment. Well, at least the other two are: after allowing herself a minute to geek out, Gamer Jisoo™️ takes over and a serious aura befalls your girlfriend. She cracks her knuckles before getting comfortable in her seat, and she steals a glance at you. Her cheek tugs up ever so slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips. 
You make a heart with your hands and blow her a kiss, and she winks at you in return. 
"Let's give them some encouragement!" 
The crowd sounds off once more, and the three of them wish each other luck.
--
It's not a new discovery that your girlfriend is gorgeous, but something about how focused she is is so attractive. She's already taken down at least 5 other players, completely wiping the floor with them while barely batting an eye. Within a few more minutes, only Jisoo and Amelia, the other female audience member, remain. 
"It's neck and neck as our last two competitors face off in the final stretch of the game."
The MC looks genuinely invested following his announcement, and you can almost see the inner 5 year old in him popping out. That's something that you love so much about video games: they can really bring the inner child out of anyone and distract them from life's stressors.
Jisoo's tongue darts out of her mouth, tracing over her lips in concentration as she considers her next move. You can practically see the wheels turning as her eyes dance across the screen, watching the movements of her enemy with the utmost focus.
Poor Amelia seems to be sweating buckets beside Jisoo; the pressure must really be getting to her. She looks intimidated, but she doesn't back down from the challenge. 
And then, it stops. Jisoo fires one final, calculated shot, taking her opponent down within a second. 
In what feels like slow motion, your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead in surprise and you stand up with a shout. You raise your arms above your head, screaming her name as you celebrate and cheer. You're the first thing she looks to once she realizes she's won, and that simple fact makes your heart grow 10 sizes. She smiles adorably as she observes you, grinning even deeper as confetti shoots out of the canons and onto the stage. She raises her head to watch it flutter down, shimmering in the lights as it rides the swirling air currents.
She's proud of herself, and so are you. 
The same event organizer from before approaches you, informing you that you have the all-clear to go greet Jisoo on stage. And that you do: you race towards the stairs, practically flying up them and into her waiting arms. You pick her up and spin her around, getting lost in the feeling of her giggles vibrating against you. 
"You did amazing, baby." You say, taking note of how the curve of her jaw is highlighted by the stage lights. 
"Thank you, Y/N. For everything. Today has been amazing." 
The MC grins at you approvingly, happy to see you guys so ecstatic. Ever the altruist, Jisoo makes sure to go shake hands with her opponents and raise their spirits before coming back to talk to the crowd. 
Once the man has her attention again, he says, "Congratulations, Jisoo. How does it feel to win?"
"It feels great! I have to thank my beautiful girlfriend, though; she's the reason we're even here today." She says humbly, reaching over to squish your cheek. 
A chorus of "ooh's" and "ahhh's" leaves the crowd, all of them gushing at how cute the two of you are. You spot yourself on the jumbo screen and blush with embarrassment. 
His assistant returns with the cash and shirt promised to the winner, and she holds it up for the cameras. The fresh signatures gleam in the light, some of them written with glitter markers while others are in traditional sharpie. 
"Here you go! Enjoy!" He cheers again, motioning for the audience to join him. Everyone does, and Jisoo clutches the material close to her chest triumphantly. The two of you watch everyone send their praise, and she rests her head on your shoulder to fully soak in the moment. 
You eventually exit the stage, waving to all of them as you take your leave. 
With the event now over, you head back to your seat to gather up your belongings and head to the PUBG panel.
"I love you." She says, causing you to pause your movements and look up at her. 
"I love you more." You tease, pulling her in close as you plant a kiss to her temple. She hooks an arm around your neck once you finish grabbing the bags, walking out into the expo hall again. 
"So, since you're rich now, can we go to the arcade on the second floor?" 
"Um, duh. Next mission: Beat Y/N. PUBG can wait." 
You grin cheekily at her confidence before pulling out of her embrace. 
"Race you there!" You shout, laughing as you take off towards the elevator, giving yourself a major head start. 
"Cheater!" She yells, giggling as she chases after you. 
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bunnirs · 4 years
Text
Someone To Fight For
Y/N L/N is the last remaining Kurta, fueled by hatred for the Phantom Troupe. They’ll do anything to eradicate their existence, even if it means dying in the process.
Kurapika Kurta X Reader
Word Count: 3,353
Your motives were clear as day. Kill the Phantom Troupe, and then yourself.
Murder was something you weren’t proud of, and would never be. That is why, to atone for your sins, you would end your life after you murdered the very people who slaughtered your tribe.
The Kurta were known to be peaceful. They were stubborn, but truly harmless. That’s why they never stood a chance against the Phantom Troupe. What or Who is the Phantom Troupe you ask? It’s a group of disgusting lowlife thieves who steal whatever they lay their eyes on. At that time, it had been the Scarlet eyes that defined your Tribe.
How you escaped was beyond your luck. They must not have noticed that you slipped away, running for your life. It must have been the fact that they were too busy gouging out the eyes of your tribe, your family. Maybe your people’s screams were so loud they couldn’t hear your sobbing, or maybe they didn’t care. Afterall, you were only a child.
That was the day you realized that your world would never be the same. That was the day you realized that you would never be able to walk freely without knowing that they were dead. So you trained, you killed, and you bled. You cried during your sleep as your nightmares materialized the very bodies of your fallen comrades, their eyes filled with endless black voids, forever missing.
As you grew up, you became stronger than you would’ve imagined. Your rage had grown over the years, silencing the screams of your past. Even as they calmed, they still rang in your ears. The begging, the crying, the screaming. It all stuck, only to be relieved at the death of their oppressors.
As the last Kurta, you had to fulfill their wish, or die trying.
That led you to now, as you stood on the roof of an abandoned building on the quieter side of Yorknew City. You had been tracking the Phantom Troupe for days now as they gathered around the Auction that was to last through September. It was the perfect time, seeing as the troupe seemed to separate regularly to satisfy their needs. You just had to pick them off one by one.
Even if their abilities were a secret, you had gotten to know their personalities and that was enough.
The numbers of whom you were watching, were #1 and #3, also known as Nobunaga and Machi. They didn’t seem to be the most dangerous of the Spiders, but even so, you could NEVER underestimate them. These monsters killed your people after all, and that wasn’t the easiest task.
Hours into your endeavor, you began to notice that you were not alone. Two more people had joined you in stalking the troupe members. From the looks of it, they seemed to be two ordinary children, besides the fact that they could effortlessly hide their aura. Would it be enough to stay hidden from their victims? Probably not.
That’s all it took for you to get closer to the two troupe members, almost afraid that the kids would get to them first. You were not afraid for yourself, no, more for them than anything. If they got noticed, they could easily be hurt, or worse, killed. It didn’t matter who killed them, it could very well be you. If they got in your way, you may not be able to restrain yourself. You had been planning this for months, and if they ruined it now, you’d be beyond pissed.
More time had passed, but that didn’t matter. Everything seemed to go by in seconds for you, your heart almost beating out of your chest as the two of the children disappeared into separate buildings. You grew nervous, hoping to whatever god there was, that the children knew what they were doing. But your prayers went unanswered, seeing as the two troupe members, Machi and Nobunaga, caught on to the children’s aura, disappearing into the very building the children had hidden in.
That’s when you decided to throw in the towel. You couldn’t stay hidden and wait till they disposed of the children, you needed to do something, and the human in you begged to help. And that’s what you did. You jumped from roof to roof, landing on the building the green boy had gone in. As soon as you landed on the ceiling, you jumped off the edge, swinging yourself through the window. As soon as you did that, your feet had met the back of the pink haired troupe member, Machi.
Much to your dismay, Troupe Member #9, Pakunoda, was also present, blocking the doorway of the child. That really pissed you off. You hadn’t noticed her, and she could’ve been tailing you this whole time, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Her aura was also joined by another, making four troupe members present. The other was most likely taking care of the other child, alongside Nobunaga.
As you disregarded your realization, you grabbed the child’s arm, skidding to the other side of the room, glancing between Pakunoda and Machi, whose face was still plastered into the ground.
“Who are you?” The boy asked, his voice in a low whisper, obviously skeptical of you.
“Your friend.” You murmured, letting go of his arm as it tensed. Hoping he got the hint, you stepped in front of him, almost in a protective stance. “Honestly, I thought I warned you about sneaking up on people.” You glanced at him, winking, hoping to god he wasn’t as dense as he looked.
He seemed to understand, nodding his head firmly. He let out a nervous laugh, putting his hand on his neck, scratching it. “I’m sorry, I just got carried away! They were worth a lot of money.. and me and Killua couldn’t resist!”
“You really are an idiot..” You grimaced, hitting his head softly, mentally kicking yourself for the display of affection. So they were in this for money.. how.. unoriginal. Of course they had bounties on their head, it wasn’t a surprise to you. They were crazed thieves who picked fights with the mafia, so it was a no brainer they pissed people off. But for kids to get involved? That was a load of bullshit.
Through the conversation you had with Gon, Machi had pushed herself up, dusting off her outfit and holding her nose. It definitely looked bruised, if not broken. This wasn’t going to be easy to get out of.
“So, you two.. know each other?” She questioned, an eyebrow raised. “I knew there were two of you, but I had no idea there was a third. Bad judgment on my part. Paku, we have room in the car for three right?”
Pakunoda hummed, nodding a yes to her question. “So they’re after us because of money? Seems a little… risky don’t you think?”
“Kids are kids.” Machi looked at her, and then stared directly at you. “We won’t have another problem will we? I really don’t want to have to kill you in front of a child.”
“The same goes to you.” You responded, shifting your weight to your other leg, crossing your arms. “So, what's this I hear about a car?”
“Well, we’re obviously not going to let you go.” Machi glanced between Gon and you, a small smirk growing on her face. “We’ll bring you back and let the boss decide on what to do with you.”
You only shrugged, glancing at the kid, whose eyes widened. You could guess he didn’t expect to get caught. You almost laughed as you ruffled his hair, hoping to comfort him. You wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him and his friend, that was for sure.
As you were loaded into the car, you could tell the white haired boy, known as Killua, was questioning your well-being. You wouldn’t blame him, not at all. You’re messing with dangerous people, and you can’t expect to trust anyone. The kid that you helped seemed to look at his friend, almost having a conversation with their eyes. That’s all it took for Killua to glance back at you, his eyes losing their hostility, and a small smile formed.
That quickly vanished when the members of the Troupe began to speak. You blocked them out, staring out of the window, watching the surrounding area become less urban. You were sure they said something regarding you, but you couldn’t care less to listen. They didn’t deserve your attention. Not now at least. You were sure that you ticked them off, seeing as one of them kept glaring at you. You hadn’t done anything yet and they were already tired of you. Good.
Time seemed irrelevant now, as everything seemed to go as it came. You were now in the base of the Phantom Troupe, the Spider tattooed freaks who slaughtered your people just for the sake of their eyes. You almost wanted to throw up as you looked at them, they weren’t scary...just ugly.
To your dismay, they decided to take the kid whose name was Gon, and force him to arm wrestle the members. You could tell he was in pain, and no matter what his friend tried to do, the Troupe was one step ahead.
What was odd, was the fact that Nobunaga was hellbent on letting the kids join. What was in store for you? You had no idea, and you didn’t care. You only leaned against the wall, picking at your fingernails, making sure they were in a clean disposition. Some of the troop members watched you, and that only made your smile widen. You hoped they remembered every inch of your face, so they could be haunted by it even in death.
“So, Pakunoda, when you scanned the three of them… what did you see?” One of the members who you recognized as Feitan Portor, Troupe member #2, asked. He said it while looking at you, holding Gon by his arms, his body bent over the table. To you, it looked wrong, but you couldn’t really suppress your opinion.
“They don’t know each other.” Pakunoda said, your eyes widening as you stared at her. Her power must be something like reading minds.. or seeing people’s memories.
“That’s odd, they pretended too.” Machi said, her voice laced with amusement. “So, you just pretended to know him?” She said, moving her gaze towards you.
“Yeah.” You said blatantly, dropping your hand from your face, the dirt now removed. “I have no idea who these kids are. What I do know, is that you guys are going to die. Doesn’t have to be today, but it will happen. I’ll make sure of it.”
They all stopped what they were doing, staring at you. Killua and Gon had stopped breathing for a second, their eyes widening as they stared at you. Wrong move.
The Spiders turned to each other, laughter erupting from their throats. It would have bothered you had you been cornered, but you knew how to deal with them. You had trained for four years, just to kill them. It wasn’t going to stop now.
“No one’s that stupid to openly admit to wanting to kill us… so you either must be stupidly strong… or just stupid in general.” Feitan said again, tightening his grip on Gon.
“Call it what you want.” You said, sliding down to the ground, your back to the wall. “But this is a warning.” Your eyes narrowed, glancing at the members. “You don’t know who I am, but I know all about you. Do what you want with that of course.” You leaned your head back, looking at the ceiling before closing your eyes. Your aura vanished, and your eyes narrowed, a red glow emitting from them. “Just know that I’m always watching.” After that, the red vanished, and you closed your eyes.
Of course anyone in a situation like this would never willingly fall asleep, seeing as you are open and vulnerable. But of course, you weren’t normal. Your nen ability was perfect for this situation.
You called your Nen Ability: Relentless Increase. The more someone damaged you, the stronger and more immune you became. This caused a huge amount of power to build up inside of you, leaving you stronger than ever. Torture didn’t work on you, seeing as halfway through it, you were numb to the feeling and could easily overtake your assailant. So with this, you could easily stand by while the Troupe watched you. Of course, they had no idea about what you could do, so it was smart to stand by.
Your instincts were proven true, seeing as they didn’t even try to touch you. Instead, most of the members left, leaving you with the two kids and Nobunaga. It almost irritated you. This Nobunaga dude seems confident in his skills, thinking he could take care of the three of you if you tried to escape. Of course, the children proved him wrong.
They had a plan up their sleeve, and it actually worked. While you sat in the room, they broke through the wall, running in opposite directions. Since you didn’t follow their example, Nobunaga seemed to trust you. First mistake on his part.
When he left you unsupervised, you took the opportunity to break out yourself. By the time he had lost the kids, you were long gone. As you ran, you expected someone to come after you, but instead, you found the kids high tailing it out of the surrounding fence. You laughed a little, running alongside them for a while. They seemed to be high in spirit, despite the fact that they were just held against their will by a dangerous group of thieves. Kids these days never failed to surprise you.
Sure, your plan failed, but at least you got knowledge on the Troupe, as well as two kids who might know something important about them too.
On your walk into YorkNew, the three of you had made small talk, getting to know each other. It seemed to be a smooth conversation, until Killua brought up your eyes
“So… Y/N.” Killua narrowed his eyes, focusing on the ground in front of him, his hands fumbling in his pockets. “Your eyes…”
“Ah yes.” You mused, kicking a loose stone from in front of you. “What about them?”
“When they turned red…. are you by chance…?” He didn’t finish, finding the conversation almost too awkward to continue. He didn’t want to press any wrong buttons with you.
“A Kurta?” You finished for him, your eyes slightly narrowing at the word. “Yes. The last one.” You could feel the water building up in your eyes, threatening to spill.
“No you're not.” Gon said suddenly, confusion lacing his tone of voice.
That shocked you, causing you to choke on the saliva that built up in your throat. The tears in your eyes were forced out, and you suddenly fell to your knees, uncontrollable sobs leaving your throat.
“Great going Gon! Look what you did you idiot!” Killua berated him, hitting him across the head.
You clenched your fists, the sand and dirt from the road coated your palms. You began to laugh as your tears fell, washing away the loose build up on your knuckles. For the first time in a while, a genuine smile formed on your lips, your laugh gaining in hysterics. You looked crazy, but at that moment, you didn’t care. You weren’t alone.
“...I think.. we broke her.” Gon muttered.
“We?! I didn’t do anything!” Killua yelled in his face, pointing at you.
“Well you brought it up!” Gon reprimanded, knocking his hand away from you.
You slowly stood up, your legs shaking, tears continuing to fall from your face. You raised your dirt covered arm, wiping the liquid from your face, grime replacing it. “S-so… where is this… other Kurta?”
“Oh, right! Kurapika is in Yorknew right now!” Gon smiled, pointing at the city on the horizon. “He’s actually our friend! And to be honest, we were just about to go see him!”
Your face brightened, the setting sun shining down on you. “...Can I… can I join you?”
Killua and Gon stayed quiet for a moment, before large grins appeared on their faces.
“I don’t see why not. As long as you're not an idiot, you should be just fine. There’s only room for one of those around here.” He giggled, poking Gon in the side.
“Yeah! We’d love for you to join us!” Gon gave you a thumbs up, before looking over at Killua. “Wait Killua, what’s that supposed to mean?!”
“Nothing! Come on slowpoke!” Killua yelled, running ahead of the two of you.
“Oh you’re so on!” Gon cheered, running after him, before skidding to a stop, looking back at you. “Come on! Wouldn’t want to lose ya!”
“Are you calling me slow?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow. “Well then, I suppose I don’t want to get lost.” You rolled your eyes, playing along with him. That’s when you started to run alongside Gon, laughing as he tried to tag Killua.
A few days passed, and it was the day that Kurapika was meeting up with Gon and Killua. It was the day that you’d finally get to see another Kurta, after four long years.
The day seemed to go on forever, only getting slower as the time grew near. Time never liked you it seemed. It made important, peaceful moments go by so fast you couldn’t even keep track of everything. But when you wanted to get over with something, it seemed to slow down just to spite you. It took four years just for you to learn that you weren’t alone, and maybe it’ll take forever just to see him. But In all honesty.. you could wait decades if it meant restoring the missing piece in your soul.
The time finally came around, and you finally saw him. He was tall, blonde, and had dark eyes. You could tell they were contacts, seeing as nothing could compare to the natural beauty of a Kurta’s irises. Just by the look of him, you already felt the welcoming warmth of home.
He made eye contact with you, and for a split second he became confused. That vanished when he saw the tears spilling from your eyes, and the red creeping up onto your normally dark irises. From the overbearing emotion you felt, your true scarlet eyes revealed themselves to him, and that was all it took for him to come running towards you.
He enveloped you into a hug, it was so tight that he was afraid you would vanish before his eyes. But you were there.. and you were real. Your eyes were real.
“....Kurapika..” you managed to breathe out, the air being stolen from you as he smothered you.
He immediately let go, letting out a formal apology. “I- I’m sorry..” he muttered, his face red from embarrassment. “I just got…”
“Overwhelmed?” You finished the sentence for him, a small smile creeping onto your face.
“Yeah.. that’s the word.” He said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
You giggled, finding his reaction amusing. “I understand completely.”
Killua and Gon were giggling as they whispered to each other, the two of them running off a split second later. That left the two of you alone.
“Do you want to.. catch up?” He suddenly said, ignoring the two boys that had left in a hurry. He knew they had done this on purpose, and he was thankful. For once he was glad they left, because now, he had you.
“You know what...” You smiled, your hand on your chin as you pretended to think of an answer. “I’d like that.”
Just for a moment, your rage had softened.. and you had someone to live for.
Taglist:
@tokoyamis-luv @imsloan
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bialy-lis · 4 years
Text
What a beautiful wedding! (part 2)
Based on AU by @alwerakoo​
Part 1 is HERE
Tommy and Tubbo fell asleep before the wedding was over, just after Sapnap knocked over the table with the leftover cake, but before Quackity was dancing half-naked on the table. Fundy was a little jealous of them. Not only because some things he would prefer never to see himself. They looked so calm, Tubbo curled up in a chair, knees pulled high up to his chin, and Tommy, clinging to him like a little koala in a tree, his limbs hugging him all the way, because he didn't like physical connection at all and he definitely wasn't the clingy one. Eret tried cover them with a cloak so they don't get cold. Tommy woke up just in time to tell him to fuck off, but he could have picked up the idea because he took off his jacket and threw it over his friend's shoulders before hiding his face in his arm again.
Fundy really didn't want to be jealous. He didn't want to look at the two kids with the bitter feeling that that he should be one of them. That he should be sitting next to Wilbur and fighting the sleepiness just to finally fall asleep with his head on his father's shoulder. He didn't want to sit at the table in the center of the room and not swallow anything through his constricted throat. And he certainly didn't want to feel so overwhelmingly alone while being surrounded by friends.
He knew he was doing the right thing, that he was doing it for them, to keep them safe and give them freedom, but he couldn't suppress the bitter thought that they're having a little too much fun. The more alcohol appeared on the tables, the louder the party became, the better moods of the guests were, the more laughter there was, blurring the barriers between friends and enemies. Fundy knew it was what he wanted, it was what he was striving for, but amid all the joy he felt cruelly abandoned. Peace came and everyone tried to forget about the war and its victims. They tried to forget about him.
The sky starts to glow when he slip out of the gate to breathe some fresh air. His throat was dry and the pain in his chest did not cease to increase, but he tried his best to relax a little. His muscles were so tight that he could hardly restrain himself from sitting on the ground and curling up as hard as possible, collapsing into himself so deeply that no one could reach him. Maybe then he would feel a little safer.
He jumped when someone suddenly touched his shoulder, but he quickly breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face.
"Hey", he muttered softly as Wilbur leaned his back against the wall next to him.
They haven't spoken a word with each other in two days. As soon as Wilbur had finished arguing, when his anger and frustration had drained from him, when he finally stopped screaming - he just fell silent. He did not comment on the preparations for the ceremony, Eret's choice as the master of ceremony, and when asked which suit to choose. When Fundy returns home on the eve of the wedding, smeared with flour and frosting after he and Niki had decorated a cake for several hours, and just rushed into his arms, crying with helplessness and mounting fear, Wilbur stroked his hair silently until the sobs turned into a soft, wheezing breath. But he didn't said a word.
That's why Fundy was genuinely surprised when he suddenly heard:
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
He wanted to laugh, very, very loudly, because no, he didn't want it in the slightest, and he guess everyone knew it, but he just bit his lip. Wilbur had no bad intentions. Sometimes he just had trouble accepting reality and needed someone to do it for him. He needed to hear a confirmation from which he could build the illusion that his son was safe and happy and knew what he was doing. Like when Fundy tried the uniform for the first time, and the sleeves were far too long for him. Wilbur tucked them up, pressed his son's hands tightly for a moment and looking deeply in his eyes he asked: "Are you sure you want this?".  
Fundy wanted. He wanted to be a solder, he wanted to fight, he wanted to be like my dad, singing the anthem of their new country, proud and invincible. In hindsight, he know that he really had no choice. Whether he wanted it or not, he was part of the war even before they found shoos in his size. But then he replied "Yes" and Wilbur smiled and called him brave and "his little champion" and he looked as if he was feeling better shifting a part of responsibility to his son.
So Fundy always said "Yes."
Sometimes honestly, like then, in the evening by the fireplace. He could have been six, maybe seven. Wilbur helped him braid the braids before going to sleep. He remembered he didn't like it terribly.
"I want to be a boy," he said, and his father's hands stopped for a moment.
"Is is because I don't let you use the sword? You know it's not because you're a girl, you're just too young to..."
Fundy shook his head.
"It's not about the sword."
The next thing he remembered was excitement and anticipation. He stood on a stool in the bathroom in front of the mirror while Wilbur ran his fingers through his long hair.
"Are you sure you want this?", he made sure.
Fundy wanted to and after a few seconds the first locks of red hair fell to the floor. He smiled broadly at his reflection, completely new and strangely familiar. The boy in the mirror answered the same, and then Wilbur was smiling as well. He playfully ruffled his son's new hairstyle and leaned in to rest his chin on his shoulder.
"Hi Fundy", he said in a soft, warm voice. "Very nice to meet you."
It was a good "Yes", wanted and the anticipated, which left no weight behind, only fill a void.
But there were others, much, much less pleasant.
"Are you sure you want to come with us?"
Tommy and Tubbo stood nect to him, both younger, with ash-dirty faces. Nobody asked if they were ready for it. Nobody gave them a chance to withdraw and stay in a safe house. Fundy couldn't refuse, seeing the guns in their hands and the long sleeves rolled up even more than his own.
"Are you sure you can do it?"
The shield was heavy and Fundy had trouble lifting it at first. Hours later he held it high overhead as arrows fell on them from all sides.
"Are you sure you still want to fight?"
The noise of bombs and Eret's words were still in his ears, and he didn't even hear his own answer. He didn't have to.
"Are you sure that's what you want?" Wilbur asked, and Fundy felt a familiar weight on his shoulders.
"That's what I have to do", he answer, because these words are the closest to "Yes" that passed through his throat.
It's hard to say whether Wilbur had any answer to that. Before Fundy turned to look at him, another figure appeared in the gate, less friendly this time.
"Heeeeeey!" Dream spread his arms, stumbling toward them. He wasn't drunk, but definitely a bit tipsy. "There is my groom! I missed you!"
Fundy grimaced as he pressed his shoulders tighter to his sides, focusing his will on not pulling away. A moment later he was very regretted not obeying his instincts when Dream suddenly bent down, grabbed him tightly by the half, and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As if he weighs nothing. As if he was his property. Fundy had never felt so humiliated in his life.
He hid his face in hands and shook his head as Dream carried him back into the palace. He hoped Wilbur would understand and wouldn't try to intervene or start a row.
It hurt when my father really said nothing. It hurt like hell and was going to hurt a long time.
There's a limited number of weight that a person can handle before they finally break. Funny, he was sure the moment had come for him.
He wondered how long Wilbur himself would last. Especialy now, when he was left alone. 
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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years
Text
How To Train A Demon
Tumblr media
An adorable visual of Demon!Deku by @birds-have-teeth !!💙
Demon!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader
Summary: Who knew you’d be teaching a man from the underworld your way of life, and who knew you’d slowly start to fall in love with the very being you were taught to fear?
WARNINGS! None!
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 12k
A/N: Day 12 of the Izumonth collab! 
I had to split it into two parts due to limited time with editing, so the second part will be posted shortly after the collab ends!
I also want to thank @1a-imagines for helping me edit and find a good stopping point with this fic! I would not have finished it in time if it werent for her and her amazing talents! 
Just To Clarify:
Takes place in early-ish Japan during the summer!
I did not do my history homework..
Reader does not have a job, and lives alone on the side of a mountain.
They say dark and stormy nights always bring chaos and misfortune.
That the scariest of tales are bred from the harsh splatter of rain on parched ground, the crackle of lightning in the sky illuminating the monsters that lurk deep in the shadows.
They always warn to fear those nights, to keep a lantern on and a knife under your pillow, for you never know what nefarious being is waiting to strike during your most vulnerable state.
And for the most part, it was true. Believable. 
Of course, how could you not believe in such stories?
They were what you grew up with, what you were lectured with, a lesson repeatedly bashed into your skull from the minute you could understand them.
Everyone feared those nights.
Everyone feared the darkness.
It was always something so easy to be afraid of without even really being given a viable reason as to why other than tales passed on for generations.
You fear what you do not understand.
Especially those who lived alone, people like you.
People who needed fear to keep them alive more than the next person.
A small house on the mountainside, surrounded by thick forests and shrines to gods of ancient times. Lands protected and blessed by predecessors, symbols carved into trees and painted on rocks to banish the evil. 
But alone you lived, alone your fears manifested into a ball of terror-filled paranoia, regardless of anyone’s true sense of reason.
Could you always rely on a symbol to keep you safe?
This particular night would unknowingly bring those fears to life.
But then again, it’s impossible to expect the unexpected, regardless of what others may say or encourage.
Thunder clapped loudly in the sky as rain assaulted your wooden rooftop, something usually so peaceful amplified by the altitude and sounding like a million dancers stomping on the old wood, dragging you into a restless sleep as stray drops drip from your ceiling, echoing in a metal pan at the far side of your room from a leak you had yet to repair.
Body curled into a ball, you gasped involuntarily when a bright flash illuminated your room, followed immediately by the raging roar of the sky as it split in two once again.
It was safe to say you would suffer through another sleepless night, fingers digging into the meaty flesh of your poor pillow as you fought to maintain a steady breath as the violent storm raged on outside, howling winds only adding to the dreadful abundance of creepy noises.
Nights like these you wished you weren’t alone.
Perhaps you would have been less afraid if your deceased family didn’t decide to live on the mountain instead of in the valley.
Though you desired to move down there where lanterns illuminated the sky at night, you couldnt abandoned what little you had left of your kin.
Instead, you sucked it up, like you always managed to do.
You were an adult, after all, one that theoretically should have been married already, but alas.
You craved freedom more than you craved to be tied down by a ring of false promises. That, and the fact that typically parents were the ones who set up marriages.
As another bang of thunder rang out in the night, you squeezed your tired eyes closed, imagining someone was there with you, wrapped securely in their embrace, even if just for a moment. Someone there to calm your breath down, to protect you from the loneliness that stabbed at your weeping heart.
Whimpering, your legs rubbed together as a cold chill filtered into the room, creeping up your spine as goosebumps ran down your skin, the garment you wore doing next to nothing at keeping you warm.
Perhaps you should have kept the fireplace going..  An old, rusty oil lantern with a small flame could only do so much. Then again, it was more of a light source than a heat source, so you couldn’t really complain.
With a huff, you dragged the thick covers over your head, sealing in what little warmth you had.
It was like a warm cocoon, almost. A little bundle of protection. You could barely even see the flashes anymore, but that just meant the thunder would swoop down on you like a hawk, startling you every time.
But what else is one to do other than to wait out the storm?
The sun would rise eventually, just as it always has and just as it always will.
Since the beginning of time, the sun blessed the lands with a golden glow, shrouding its children in warmth and love. The moon was like it’s bitter sister, cold and cruel, taking away the light that led her people through her darkness.
Some nights she was merciful, and others- gone from the sky completely.
This night just happened to be one of those nights.
So not only was it violent, rainy, and cold, this night was also one without any true lights.
Stars were a blessing in disguise, their brightness concerningly dim.
At least you had your lantern and that dirty old katana your father left behind.
You were safe.
At least you thought you were, but a sudden cry bellowing through the night tore the thick atmosphere apart, sending chills down your spine and making the grip on your blanket as tight as ever.
What.. was that?
It sounded almost like..
Like a wounded animal..
Just then, a flash of light blinded your vision, a sickening roar accompanying it. The ground shook as you whimpered, eyes wide with fear.
A bolt must have struck close to home..
It’s okay.
Everything is okay.
Breath heavy and body shaking, you comforted yourself with logic- an old friend you abandoned.
An animal just got hurt, was all. Perhaps a tree fell on it, or maybe it got attacked by another animal!?
It might even have been that howling wind that acted up sometimes! 
Everything was okay.
It’s okay.
Nothing to fear.
It’s just a storm.
Just a storm.
Just a storm.
You’re safe.
You’re inside.
The light guides you, the charms protect you, the shrines embrace you.
You’re okay.
It’s just a storm.
It’s just a
SCRSSSSHHHHH!! 
CRASH!
“AHHH!”
A blood-curdling scream tore from your throat as something suddenly crashed through your window, the loud sound of wood tearing apart and clanging to the floor was followed by a heavy thud and the splash of rain on your padded floor at the gaping hole given to it.
Screaming in terror, your frantic hand grabbed the blade at your side, shaking body scrambling backwards to the other side of the wall, pulling it from its sheath.
You were trapped, you had no exit!
The only exit you had was where whatever the fuck that is just crashed!
Oh gods!
You’re going to die!
This was it!
A fucking storm!
A fucking goddamn storm!
God, you were a fool!
Hyperventilation crept up on you like a venomous snake, its cold body constricting tightly around your chest and throat, cutting off your oxygen supply and freezing your numb fingers.
You were scared shitless, that was for sure, and all you could do was helplessly stare with wavering eyes at a large, haunting silhouette in the corner of the room. The small light, now seemingly miles away, providing next to no coverage of this massive figure, only gifting the room more horrific shadows.
You wanted this to be a dream, that what the elders warned wasn’t true.
This was just a nightmare.
A scary nightmare your mind conjured up like it always did.
Rain splattered against your sickly pale face, the droplets mixing with the burning hot tears that poured down your cheeks as you fought to keep a steady hand and to slide up the wall to stand.
Old, dull blade pointing forward, you couldn’t help by cry out as the dark figure moves ever so slightly.
A crash of light drowns out your sobs, swallowing the room in a dull white glow for a mere moment, enough of a moment to give you a glimpse of this creature.
You wish you hadn’t seen it, that you indulged in your ignorance for a moment, that you didn’t see the way large, black wings sprouted from the back of a human.
Horns glistened with water atop its head, long tail thrashing wildly as its body moved to get up.
Your breathing stopped the minute it opened its eyes, a vicious, glowing green staring off at the destruction it caused.
Heart roaring in your ears, you did nothing but stare.
It was as if your blood had ran as cold, for all you could think to do was to silently pray to the gods that everything would be okay.
That your life would not end.
That you would still have a chance to become what you were supposed to be, and not die a lonely child by the hands of a beast.
Suddenly, its eyes snapped to your own, wide pupils turning into menacing slits as it gazed at you with malice, an animalistic growl rumbling in its chest, sharp teeth that could easy rip your throat out on full display.
Blade slipping from your numb hands, black dots spotted your vision as you promptly fainted from fear, accepting death in its imminent wake as your knees crash against the floor.
‘So this truly was the end’.. You thought to yourself as you body drifted lifelessly in a void of black, fingers outstretched as if reaching for something that would never be there.
Death was always something to think about, the burning question always attacking your mind as to how exactly you would die. You figured you’d be mawed to death by a wild boar of sorts, tusks tearing through the ligaments in your legs, praying you’d die from bleeding out before its teeth dug into your skin, eating you alive.
Or perhaps you’d die as most women do these days, walking alone before you’re kidnapped by an enemy.
Death by what could only be described as a demon never truly crossed your mind despite you being warned by it.
It seemed impossible.
Why would a demon want you of all people?
Though, you were.. an easy prey.
‘I’m sorry..’ you whispered to yourself, hoping your words of sincerity would cross the plains of existence and comfort those you would ultimately leave behind, which wasn’t many, and those you were soon to visit. You let your eyes slip shut to close off the suffocating abyss, embracing death.
“Ugh!” you groaned uncomfortably as a bright light assaulted your closed eyes, dragging you from your sleep.
No.. was this sleep?
You couldn’t be too optimistic..
Turning over, your back promptly blocked out the headache-inducing light, bare arm coming up to rub the drowsiness from your eyes as you blinked in your surroundings.
Well.
There wasn’t really anything to look at since you were facing a wall.
More specifically, your bedroom wall. A simple, faded, dark wood design.
Humming, your fingers tap against the tatami floor, chewing on your lip as you struggled to comprehend the beating of your own heart.
Were you alive?
It was hard to tell, you didn’t exactly have an accurate depiction of the afterlife.
Oh boy. 
If you were dead, your family would kill you again no doubt for dying so early.
Of course, you can never please your ancestors, especially if you don’t leave something behind to continue your family’s lineage.
Maybe it was a good thing that you were dead, actually.
It didn’t take but a moment to notice the unusually loud sounds of nature attacking your ears and the wet, earthy scent flooding your nose.
The rain had ceased, and the morning birds were singing their usual cheerful tune.
The delicate jingle of your wind chime could be heard as it swayed ever so gently in the wind, having previously been frantically dinging all night long.
At least you were welcomed with open arms to your afterlife, after promptly being murdered by some weird fucking overgrown bat demon.
Who knows, maybe it wasn’t a demon.
Demons didn’t look like that? No, they were much creepier, but it wasn’t like you had anything real to compare it to.
Grumbling to yourself, you ran a hand through your messy hair, finding the oily, tangled mess utterly disgusting.
You really should take a bath soon.
Does the afterlife have baths?
You would throw a fit if not, you need your weekly soak, even if the water wasn’t that warm.
You’d be damned if you didn’t get a minute to relax and destress.
But then again, is there even stress here?
You’d have to find out later, for now, you should stop staring at your dirty old wall like some sort of lunatic, give this whole afterlife a go.
Slapping your bare thighs, eyes sparkling with determination you go to turn around before promptly screaming your heart out as fright squeezed the life out of you once more.
Large, snake-like green eyes bore into your own, only a hair length away.
Throat dry, you flung yourself back against the wall as you fought to scramble away, only for this creature to follow your every movement as you pushed yourself into a corner.
All you could see was green.
Green.
The type of green that reminded you of toxic flames erupting from an innocents body as it succumbs to possession.
You swore you were dead, but perhaps you have yet to meet your untimely end.
“Please!”
You cried, tears pouring down your raw cheeks as your arms wrapped protectively around your head, “Please don’t hurt me!” sobbing, you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting.
Waiting was always a horrifying game, you never knew when the waiting would stop and when you could breathe again.
But death never greeted you.
It was odd in a way.
It was as if you were expecting so much, that to not be given it was even more confusing.
Lips wobbling, you slowly peaked your eye open, breathless as you noticed this human-like creature suddenly at the other end of the room, clawed fingers tapping together at it shifted nervously from bare foot to foot.
What the-?
“I-i’m so sorry! I, I must’ve scared you so much… I’m really sorry!”
You stared in shock as this… man fell to his knees, thumping his forehead onto the floor in an apologetic bow, wings bent and folded at his sides.
You were speechless.
Truly, what the hell?
Was this even real?
You couldn’t tell anymore.
This all seemed so questionable.
It was certainly what crashed through your home- of fuck!
Gasping, you finally got a good luck at the true destruction.
Oh, your window was completely ruined! Broken wood stuck out everywhere, even looking at it made you feel like you were going to get a splinter!
How are you supposed to fix that when you haven’t a coin to your name?
Fuck.
Wait.
Oh, right!
There was!
This creature!
What the hell.
Breathing heavily, you fought to calm yourself down as you got a good look at this thing.
Its hair was messy, mud, twigs, and leaves entangling itself in its thick, dark green curls. It was hard to ignore the two large black horns atop its head, locks wrapping almost possessively around them.
Pointy ears caught your attention, a strange earpiece dangling from one with an upside-down, obsidian Christian cross.
Of course, what mostly caught your attention were the two large black wings sprouting from its scarred back, a thin black tail idly swaying back and forth.
His cream-colored skin was wet with water, dotted with freckles, and littered with scars varying in sizes.
All and all, you were dumbfounded.
Eyes bouncing around the room, you looked for your sword, desperate for some sort of protection, something you could say you tried to fight it off with if worse came to inevitable worse.
Oh!
There!
It was only a few feet away from you, and do as you must, you slowly crept forward, crawling on your hands and knees, sneaking around in hopes it wouldn’t lift its head and pounce on you.
Unfortunately, you pressed on a particularly creaky floorboard, and its head snapped up, fear causing you to jump for the sword before shakily aiming it at the demon once more.
“S-stay back!” you warned with a wavering voice, though you knew for a fact you looked like a crying child who could do no real harm.
Eyes stared into each other once more, this time from a safer distance. You were just about to speak again when it spoke up, its voice a calmer and not as frantic, “You’re holding that wrong.”
“Excuse me?” you answered without a beat, astonishment lacing your words as curiosity rose onto your face, how on earth did this thing know that?
“You’re holding the katana wrong,” it pointed at your hands on its handle, sharp black fingernail catching your ultimate attention, “You shouldn’t hold it just at the bottom, you need to space your hands out more. You would not be a threat to anyone if you hold it like that.”
Was… was it seriously lecturing you right now? 
Eye twitching with annoyance, you slid your hands into the position described, “Just like that! Perfect!” it smiled brightly at you, green eyes slipping closed as it praised you like a teacher to a student who did good.
“Shut up!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet, flames of anger igniting within your body as you took a step forward.
With an inhuman screech, its wings folded protectively around its body, “Ack! I’m sorry! I just wanted to help you!”
What is going on?!
This, this wasn’t! This wasn’t supposed to be happening right now, right?? It was just about to kill you!
Could you even call it an "it", it looks like a man!
Is it a man? How do demons work!
Why is this happening right now!
You couldn’t wrap your head around it, and it was beyond infuriating!
“Who and what are you!” you snarled out, surprise blossoming in your eyes at the sheer ferocity you just displayed, but annoyance sure is a force to be reckoned with.
Wings cracking open ever so slightly, and you can just barely see an innocent green eye peaking out. 
“M-My name is Midoriya.. Midoriya Izuku.. I’m.. I am a.. I know it sounds weird, but I’m a demon..”
So you were right.
This is a demon, just not one you were used to.
Yokai was what they’re called here, red, devilish creatures that sought destruction.
This certainly wasn’t a yokai, surely, despite his cheeks being a subtle red.
“I mean you no harm..” he meekly whispered, unfolding his large wings just to put his hands in the air, defenseless.
You weren’t convinced.
But then again, what were you supposed to do?
It wasnt as if you were taught how to handle a situation where an animal crashes into your house in the middle of a thunderstorm just to be there the next morning watching you sleep like some sort of creepy stalker.
When life gives you lemons, though, right?
Well, you hated lemons.
Or, at least these lemons.
No, that doesn’t apply here surely. This is a man, not a lemon.
Regardless, you were stuck on what action you should take.
Caution was definitely one. Though it hadn't harmed you in any way and was looking pretty beat up itself, you couldn’t run the risk of being too trusting too early only to end up with your throat ripped out.
There, of course, is still the question as to how it was able to enter holy lands such as these, lands protected from such devilish creatures.
They were supposed to combust into flames upon entering, right?
Closing your eyes for a moment, you took a deep breath, letting a scowl settle onto your face as you glared at this ‘Midoriya,’ “Why are you h-”
“Wait, wait wait!” he suddenly shouted out, arms waving frantically in front of his burning red face, “B-before uh! You do whatever you’re going to do, c-can you..” words were whispered under his breath as his arms wrapped childishly around his head, averting his gaze to the side, “Can you fix.. your garments…? Please?” 
Stunned, you gaped at him, confused as to what he meant. Fix your garments? They were perfectly fine!
Only, they werent.
To your utter horror, your loose robe had begun to slip, completely exposing your left shoulder and the top of your breast.
It probably would have been more embarrassing if you didn’t still have a bit of adrenaline coursing through your veins, so naturally, you nonchalantly fixed up your robe.
Izuku sighed in relief, arms unraveling from his head.
“Now, what was your ques-”
“Why are you here.” You repeated, wanting definite answers as to what the fuck a demon was doing in these parts, and why it crashed into your beautiful house.
Hell, a bird just flew in! It’s going to be unimaginably cold in here tonight!
“Thats a uh,” he chuckled nervously, eyes drifting to look out into the forest covered in morning dew as he lightly scratched at his cheek with that sharp nail. He shifted so that he was sitting with his legs crossed over one another, tail flopping onto his lap to no doubt keep his decency.
He was clearly naked. How had you not noticed this before?
Where you too caught up in your head to realize this entire time he was bare?
And yet he had the gall to tell you to fix yourself up? It was hard to tell if he was being a gentleman or a fool.
Regardless, you ‘d never seen a naked man before. Perhaps muscular arms at most as village men helped their wives and older folk about.
But completely in the nude? Bare chest, legs out? Never.
You’d have to swallow down that bubble of nervousness, ignoring the heat on your cheeks, too eager to hear his answer rather than get wrapped up in ‘oh god he’s hot’ thoughts.
“A long story..”
“Everyone always says its a long story. Stop avoiding the question, and answer it before I cut your head off!” You bravely declared, only for his viridescent eyes flashing with mischief to flicker over to you with a momentary smirk on his lips.
It was almost as if his face turned into the personification of ‘is that so?’ and honestly, you do not blame him for reacting in such a way. You didn’t even know how to hold this old katana until a few minutes ago when told you how.
He was obviously trying to hide that display of cockiness as he coughed into his tattooed fist, “Well, if you’ve got the time-”
“I do.”
“H-how much?”
Eye twitching with aggravation, you promptly sat down on your knees, the sun-warmed tatami mat beneath you offering some comfort to your chilled bones.
“As long as you need.”
It didn’t take long for him to spit out his story, having no real choice in the matter.
Apparently, he was an exiled demon.
Who knew demons of all things could be banished from the underworld?
According to him, demons were the incarnation of evil, bred from human hatred and misery, taught to become a monster who wreaks havoc on the innocent and guilty, but he was different.
Since birth, or his ‘manifestation’ as he strangely called it, he was much kinder than those around him. Pure and sweet, hiding it behind a mask of cruelty in fear of the banishment now bestowed upon him.
So here he is in all his glory, a permanent seal of banishment printed in black ink onto his left pectoral in the form of broken kanji and crescent moons.
It was quite a lovely mark, really, but to him, it meant lonely freedom.
But, who knew demons can’t fly for shit in the rain? Certainly not him. Salty water splattered in his eyes, blinding him after a loud crack of lightning tore a scream from his throat - which explained the cries of an animal in pain. 
And so he crashed through your home, a scared animal.
It was hard to tell if you were lucky or not, considering the charms didnt work at all.
At least you had a reason now, the mark he was branded with took away his demonic possession.
He was more of a human now than a demon, powers stripped away, not that he used them.
The only problem was, he looked like a demon.
Horns? Check. Reptillian eyes? Check. Lare, bat-like wings? Check. A tail that looks like it could easily stab someone? Check. 
Not to mention the strange tattoos under his eyes and on his left arm, something he was supposedly born with and which was unique to himself only.
To you, the intricate tattoo looked like a bunny ensnared in thorny vines on his arm, but he was quick to take offense before laughing boyishly.
You were absolutely stuck on what you should do with him.
Tossing him to the snakes and boars would surely be too cruel, but keeping a demon in your house?
How maddening! You were lucky no one came around these parts to snoop in on whats inside.
Though, despite it being absolutely ludicrous, you allowed it. That is, because of his promise that he’d fix your window. Heavens know you certainly cant do it yourself.
He was insistent that you should sleep in the dusty guest bedroom, a smaller room with a mere futon and window, lacking the furniture you had, as he stood guard at the opening at night.
Demons apparently didnt sleep much?
Lucky you.
And so now, by events you never could have seen coming, you have a giant cat looming over your shoulder.
It was hard not to let your guard down so fast around him when he was so.. innocent. So open and kind, always willing to help around the house, and always quick to jump away if he began to do something wrong.
His curiosity was truly adorable, though.
Most days he’d stare in wonder at something new with an awestruck expression, eyes sparkling as he’d take a brush and ink, scribbling down notes about it in a foreign language on a piece of parchment, even attempting to draw it. He would always ask you about it later, showing you what he had written down, and if you could answer, you would. He’d always thank you profusely before writing down what you’d said.
You couldn’t understand what he wrote, it’d always be a mystery, but it certainly was an intricate language.
The only problem was he was so used to being naked all the time that it was an embarrassing struggle to get him to not only get into clothes but to also wear them. The most he was willing to wear was a sash from as robe wrapped around his waist. He disliked the constricting feeling of fabric clinging to his body, slipping out of it whenever you got him dressed.
It really did give you the chance to actually know what a man looked like, that, as well as study him. He was littered with scars ranging from small, faded, fresh, large, it truly was a painful sight the days you decided to dwell on them.
He had told you a few stories already about how he had gotten certain ones, and most stories were ones filled with pride and determination, winning fights or protecting others.
Each scar held an interesting story, except the one on his neck, which was gained from forgetting he had sharp nails in a fit of frustration. 
As you found out later that first day of knowing him, his wings and horns had the ability to shrink, not only giving him more mobility inside the house, but also taking away that spike of anxiety whenever you’d see them near a fragile object. Besides, their tiny selves were oh so cute, not that you’d ever openly say that.
And so, two weeks had passed, and there was still that dreadful broken window. Izuku had been kind enough to clean up the mess he made, insisting to do so after your intense interrogation, so it truly was an out of place marker of destruction now.
Its stay was to be expected, considering you didn’t have a replacement. No, you’d need to buy one.
Oh, buying. A poor man’s nightmare.
But as it turns out, demons are quite good at finding valuable things in the wilderness.
Or at least, that’s what he explained to you when he showed up one morning covered in dirt and mud, twigs all in his hair, boring an appearance similar to his first arrival, showing off a handful of silver and copper coins, as well as two golden ones.
In short, you were too busy drooling at the sight to care about how exactly he got it.
Travelers were often dropping coins anyway, so it surely doesn’t matter. Besides, his accomplished smile was far too sweet to tarnish with questions.
“You’re dirty, again.” you bluntly pointed out after thanking him for his find, pouring the coins into a small, worn pouch containing only two copper. Tying it up, you were quick to place it back on the shelf, hiding it behind a book of heroic tales.
“O-oh.. I didn’t notice..” he laughed awkwardly in that boyish manner he seemed to always have, large hands immediately going to brush off the caked mud on his legs and arms.
“Absolutely not, mister! I just cleaned!” Scolding him, you grabbed his wrist before he had the chance, glaring up into his surprised, foresty green snake-like eyes.
“If you’re going to shake your dirty little self off, go do it outside!”
At times, you acted more like a mother than you did anything else with him. But to be fair, he did come to this practical new world without any true knowledge of its customs, what you can and cannot do. Surely not making the house someone let you graciously stay in dirty was a universal thing.
He openly stared at you, innocent eyes glistening and wobbly lips reminding you of a kicked puppy.
Ouch.
“S-sorry,” he promptly apologized, attention snapping to your smaller hand still gripping his wrist, pink dusting over his chubby, freckled cheeks.
Sighing, you patted his large arm, picking up on the way it made his wings flutter, “It’s alright. Just go pat yourself off outside. I’ll set up a bath for you. I don’t need dirt everywhere in here again.”
Nodding eagerly, a bright smile overtook his face, showing off his unusually sharp canines.
Perhaps you would’ve been afraid had he shown them off in a vicious way again, but he was far too excited at the prospect of submerging his body in heated water to seem at all threatening.
You watched for a split second as he ran off, head instantly whipping to the side when he suddenly threw off the measly piece of fabric wrapped around his thin waist, tail curling around his muscular leg that you definitely haven’t been staring at throughout all this time.
You would have yelled after him for stripping if you weren’t so flustered.
You’d doubt you’d ever get used to it, seeing him nearly naked all the time. Artists were right to draw demons naked it seems, they truly didnt have any shame.
A blessing and a curse.
Grumbling, you began the long process of filling the metal tub with buckets of water from the well out back, igniting a small flame beneath it so the water would be warm upon his arrival.
Speaking of which, he was taking an unusual amount of time.
Surely you didn’t have to be worried, but it had been at least half an hour at this point, right? It doesn’t take that long to brush yourself down, does it?
Unease built in your gut, and you began pacing around the house, chewing anxiously at your fingernails as the old boards creaked beneath your feet.
He was very capable of handling himself, he was a fairly strong and intimidating soul, but what if he ran into someone? Your house wasn’t too far from the village, it was very plausible that he could’ve run into a hunter!
What if he was dead!
Oh gods, was he dead?!
And you had just put so much effort into running a bath for him!
Should you look for him?
What if he doesnt come home?
Maybe he’s lost?
Or stuck in a trap!
There were so many different possibilities, that your feet began to move on their own, the long sleeves of your kimono flapping behind you as you rushed towards the door where he had jumped out of, only to slam into a much larger and sturdier frame the minute you were about to exit.
“Hyah!” you cried out from surprise, being knocked backward.
Two hands quickly caught your flailing arms before you had the chance to land flat on your ass.
Looking up in a panic, you were relieved to see the familiar, warm green gaze of Izuku.
“Careful!” he was now the one to scold, playfully pouting his reddened lips. Breathless from worry and slamming into him, you jumped to your feet, taking a moment to catch your breath.
“D-don’t tell me to b-be careful!” whining, embarrassed at the fact that you had been pressed so close to him, you adjusted your oversized kimono that had slipped ever-so-slightly at the rough collision.
“Mmm~ Be careful?” he teased, leaning down just to purr beside your flushed face his cold, dangling earring tickling the skin at your neck.
Smacking his shoulder, you let out an annoyed huff, only to screech a second after, blood burning your cheeks as you turned away so quickly you could hear the sleeves slap against his body, “Put some clothes on, damnit!!”
“I thought I had to be naked for a bath?” It was annoying how you could tell he was pulling your strings, no doubt his head was tilting as he batted his lashes at your smaller frame, like he always did when given the chance to be a tease.
Growling to yourself, you pointed off to the direction where the bath was prepared, desperate to escape from this trap you had set yourself in, “Then go bathe, you dirty, dirty boy!” At this point, you were on the verge of flat out shoving him into the bathroom, wanting to escape from his nude self.
You’d clearly have to start forcing him to wear clothes more, putting your foot down if he was to stay in this house.
You did not need a heart attack every morning at seeing a naked man waiting eagerly for you to awake, only for a wide smile to blossom on his face, tail thumping loudly on the ground and wings flapping like a bird when he noticed you blink your eyes open.
Of course, a pillow was always thrown at him, the plea for him to wear some clothes always on your tongue, but alas, you were lucky if he wore his piece of fabric, that flimsy sash you had half as mind at throwing away just so he would be forced to wear something else.
“O-okay..” his shy self seeped back in, his fingers visibly poking together, an anxious habit you presumed. Feet thumping against the floor, he traveled down the hall and to the bath, a loud gasp echoing down the corridor when he noisily jumped in, water sloshing. “So warm!”
“Please clean up your mess-!”
It was almost like dealing with a child, except this child was hundreds of years older than you and a grown-ass man, if that was a positive or negative- you’d never know.
It wasn’t until the next day you got him to fully wear a kimono, an old one your father had left behind. It fitted him, truly, black with green vines snaking down the sides and wrapping around the cuffs. It was a nightmare to get him in it, though.
Not that he wasn’t obedient, no, he truly did try his best to please you, but perhaps it just wasn’t something he could easily comprehend just yet, not to mention you had to somehow squeeze his wings into the outfit.
His tail was easy to hide due to the kimono reaching the floor, but thank god for hats because truly it was impossible to hide his horns any other way.
But the poor man was clearly unhappy, lips pouty and eyes droopy as he shifted from one foot to the other.
“They.. feel weird..” he tried to explain, pulling at the neckline, only for you to swat his hand away. “You’ll get used to it.” you reassured.
Grabbing the coin pouch you had placed on the shelf, you made him carry a sack over his shoulder, something to not only hide his lumpy wing covered back but to also carry the supplies you’d be purchasing soon.
It would be impossible to hide his facial markings, so you didn’t attempt. The thought of smearing mud on his cheeks did cross your mind, but alas, that would look suspicious. If only tattoos weren’t so taboo, and if only he didn’t have such suspicious ones.
Everyone in the village knew you, knew your story, and they knew you were alone. You had no doubts they’d ask who this mysterious stranger was, or at least openly gawk at him. You could avoid certain nosey fuckers, but at times it was unavoidable 
Grabbing his sleeve, you led him out the front door, quick to slide it shut before walking down the dirt trail.
Perhaps you could say he was a distant relative? You didn’t have any distant relatives, so that would, unfortunately, be a bust.  You placed your finger on your chin, thinking as you allowed your body to walk down the familiar path on autopilot, head in the clouds as you thought.
Curse these nosy ass people, already knowing everything about you!
Perhaps he was a traveler you found lost in the storm? Or he found you?
No.. that wouldn't explain the markings..
You needed to come up with something!
Grrr!
Oh! Oh! Wait!
“Midoriya..” you began, tilting your head curiously towards him. 
His lips pressed into a thin line, already recognizing that mischievous glint in your mesmerizing (e/c) eyes. 
Was that even a way he should describe them? Perhaps not, but he would be a fool to disagree with the statement formed in his head.
Gulping, he stuttered out nervously, focus shifting from you to the path in front of his wooden sandal-clad feet, shoes he wasnt too happy with, “Y-yes..?”
“Do you know what ninja’s are?”
You’re a genius.
“I, uhm, I’ve heard about them..why?”
“Mmm.. what have you heard?”
“Just that they’re skilled with a blade and sneaking around..” He looked at you dumbly, eyebrow arched as you only smiled back at him, adding to his own confusion.
“You’re gonna be a ninja, then.” You boldly declared out, catching his arm as he suddenly stumbled over a rock as he sputtered.
“W-wha?! B-but I- I’m n-not a ninja!” 
“I know that, but listen! The people at the village don’t! I have no doubts they’re going to poke and prod at you, wondering who you are.. A ninja that stumbled upon my house in the middle of a storm would explain your sudden appearance and your facial tattoos, and Hell, even your eyes!”
Filled with a sense of victory, you grinned ear to ear, amazed at how you had come up with such a solution on the spot.
You truly were creative.
A gift, maybe.
Oh, man! All the village women are going to be so jealous! Always quick to say you’d end up alone, but boy were they wrong! Here you have it, a ninja demon following you around! Suck on that, widows!
Wanting to gauge his reaction, seeing as he went oddly silent, you looked over at him, only to stop in your tracks and have your arms go limp by your sides.
“W-wha…” face scrunching up, you stared at him, bewildered. He was pointing at his cheek, smirking at you, showing off the fact that not only had his eyes gained a human-like pupil, which now looked odd on him, but the fact that the markings now looked like smudged paint.
It was dumbfounding.
“What the hell happened to your face..” trailing off, you couldnt help but scratch at your head, running possibilities through your mind but coming up with no true solution.
“Demons have the ability to switch from eyes that can see well in the dark to eyes that cannot! I forgot about it until you pointed them out, to be honest! So thank you for that!”
He was smiling boyishly again, only to flush deeply as you grabbed his face, soft, small hands on his cheeks, pulling him down to your height as you examined his features.
“(Y-Y/N).?!” he squeaked, breath catching in his throat as you peered deeply into his surprised green orbs, face so close he could feel your nose brushing against his, and all he could do was stand still.
His hot breath was ragged as it fanned across your face, and though he knew you were examining the sudden change in appearance, he couldn’t help the way his heart hammered in his chest. You were so, so close!! He swore if he just.. leaned forward ever so slightly, he could.. Catch your lips in a sweet kiss. He glanced down, focus going hazy as he zeroed in the way your lips shined in the sunlight trickling just barely through the gaps of leaves above him, forcing his own lips to twitch in anticipation.
Would it be so bad if he, hypothetically speaking, kissed you right now?
Oh, what a thought!
He couldnt tell. Hell, he couldnt even think.
Your scent was so intoxicating at this moment, flooding his senses, and it left his devilish desires to want more, fingers inching towards your waist.
He was knocked out of his strangely lustful thoughts when you repeatedly papped his cheek to catch his attention.
Body going stiff, his hands flung back to his own sides before jerking his head up to look at you once more. Had you been talking to him? Did you say something? He didnt know, his attention hyperfocused on… something else at the time.
Your aggravated tone cut through his body like a freshly sharpened steel blade, noticing the way your face scrunched up once more at finding he hadnt heard you the first time. 
“I said, what did you do to your eye markings?”
“H-huh?!” he stuttered out, only to internally slap himself as he took a moment to process the question, “I- I just.. smeared some mushed up black berries on m-my cheek..”
It was embarrassing to admit such a thing, especially considering his right hand is still sticky with its pigmented juice, droplets dripping from his fingers. He had half a mind to lick them up, sucking on the digits just to gauge your reaction as you watched him so intensely. No! Bad, bad Izuku! Stop that! 
“I-I thought it could be.. like some sort of ink.. b-but I didn’t have any ink on me so- so I grabbed some berries..”
“Is that why you smell so sweet? I was tempted to lick your cheek for a minute there.” Confessing that, you ended the conversation by spinning around and walking on. Delays were never good, especially since you didn’t have all day, and you definitely wanted to sleep in your own room tonight. The guest one was.. a bit too stuffy for your liking.
He followed you, huffily licking at the juice covering his hand and ignoring the stickiness coating his lips and cheeks.
Next time, he would be sure to use a sort of paint or something. At least then it could be marked off as some sort of fashion trend and not actual tattoos. After all, what innocent man had tattoos?
Of course, for his kind, they were common and apart of your identity, but here? It was a symbol of bad luck it seemed. Impurity. Not that he wasnt impure.
“Walk faster!” You called back to him, alerting the green-haired man lost in his thoughts that he had been walking too slow.
“C-coming!”
It wasnt too long before you had finally reached the entrance to the village, taking a moment to look over the old wooden arch covered in vines before walking past. Your sandals, as well as his own, clopped against the cobblestone road.
Though it was early morning, and the sun was barely even awake, townsfolk were already bustling through the place. Kids were running around barefoot, doing chores or having fun, farmers were wheeling in their goods in squeaky carts, calling out for business, and shops were being opened.
Distantly, you could hear the crackle of a fire and smell the pungent scent of meat being cooked sweets being baked in the air, only making you drool at the thought of consuming something so tasty after eating home-grown vegetables for so long.
The village was dead silent at night but in the morning? It was warm and welcoming, filled with friendly, smiling faces and gossiping mothers as they hung clothes out to dry.
You swore you could even hear the light picking at an instrument and the barking of dogs far off on the other side of town.
Birds chirped happily in the sky, singing their age-old songs as they searched for someone to love.
It truly was a breath of fresh air, the friendly atmosphere far different than the much quieter one in the mountain.
You missed it.
You were convinced for a while the reason you stayed away so long was to quite literally teach a demon manners, but you were quick to regret your mistake upon reentering this world. The energy of the place stabbed at your heart, and your fingers itched with the desire to stay here for as long as possible. Perhaps even buy some bread while youre here. Heaven knows you need more ingredients, and with the jingle of the pouch you carried ringing in your ear with every step, you were reminded you could actually afford it for once.
Sure, cooking and chopping vegetables was alright, a fun pass time that brought you comfort and worth, but damn did you miss being lazy for a change.
Besides, you now had the manpower to carry quite a lot, right?
Speaking of, that same demon was currently hiding behind you, hands clutching at your kimono sleeve as his shy face barely peeked out from behind your head.
“Are.. you alright?” you asked hesitantly, worried that perhaps he was scared or something set off some sort of weird sixth scent.
“I-i’m okay..! T-there's just so many people around.. I’m.. a bit..” he trailed off, looking down at his feet once more.
“Shy.” you concluded, nodding your head in understanding.
This was the first time he would be around other humans besides yourself, so it made sense why he was a bit timid.
In all honesty, it just made him even cuter and less threatening, not that he ever truly was as you came to realize the more you got to know this fluffy boy.
That's not to say it didn't also fill you with a motherly need to protect him, or perhaps it was pride. Either way, your cheeks couldn't help but flush with him being so close, a reaction you still were trying to get used to, despite being up close and personal not ten minutes ago. Then again, that was on your terms, wasn’t it? This? This was certainly out of the blue. So it made sense.
Walking along, you waved to the occasional person, a plethora of “good morning!”’s and “I’m alright, how are you?” fleeing from your person with each minimal interaction. It was a blessing no one has yet to question who the mysterious stranger with dripping berry juice on his face was, but it certainly made a lot of people stop in their tracks and look your way.
How flustering… you thought to yourself as you pushed on, eventually grabbing Izuku’s wrist and pulling him along with you.
“The shop is just down here.” you told him, to which he nodded his head, far too shy to speak. Hell, you were sure he was close to chewing his own clothes from nerves at this point with that look of hesitation, fear, and child-like curiosity in his eyes.
It wasn't hard to miss the way his head whipped around, taking in the new environments with near open arms, visually studying each and every object he saw, but never asking a question about it, almost as if he was afraid speaking with glee and wonder would cause too much of a ruckus, attracting even more attention.
You had no doubts he would drown you in them once you got back home, or maybe even in a few minutes if something utterly mind-blowing caught his attention, but for now, you had to focus on gathering things.
You had eventually made it to the repair shop, full intentions on buying the wood needed to replace the frame, as well as a new window covering. It was old and damn near rotting off the wall anyway, it truly was needed.
Though it certainly was unusual to have such a thing in a bedroom where someone could easily break-in. But it was the mountains, so there wasn’t much to fear. After all, who in their right minds would wander a forest in the middle of the night just to break into a poor woman’s home?
Leaving Izuku to stay outside to collect himself as he shook like a leaf in the wind, you stepped inside the open shop, immediately greeted with the smell of freshly chopped wood and burning embers, a fire burning in the back no doubt. This was a supply shop for home repair, after all.
“Ah! Little Miss (L/N)! I haven't seen you in a while, my dear. Where have you been?” An elderly grandfather emerged from the back, hand pressed to the wall to lean against it. For his age, he was surprisingly in stable conditions, no doubt from the strenuous work he’d done all his life.
It was hard to forget that the elders here always had an eye open, so naturally, he would be the first to question your sudden disappearance when given a true chance. So far you’d only seen people your age and children out and about doing deeds for the older folk and earning their dinner.
Just as you were about to answer, you were cut off, “Oh? Who’s this?”
Not bothering to glance back, already knowing full well it was the curious Izuku who finally manage to swallow his anxieties and peak in, “He’s-” 
“A ninja!” he exclaimed, jumping to your side excitedly as you huffed in irritation at being cut off two times in a row.
It certainly was odd that he spoke out so enthusiastically, considering he had been nothing but reluctant to speak the entire time you were in the village, but what was even more shocking was how he continued the plan of referring to him as a ninja.
A stupid plan you now came to realize, sounding out of place. You should’ve gone with a better idea and not have acted so cockily when you came up with it on the spot.
Oh, the familiar feeling of regret.
It was strange though, especially since you were sure he was against the idea in the first place, so why had he gone along with it?
Truly, you couldn't exactly care less. This was his mess now.
“A.. ninja.?” Furukawa, the old man, questioned, giving the both of you a perplexed look. “We haven't seen one around these parts since I was a but boy. What is a ninja doing here of all places? A meek little village like this?”
Oh. That’s right.
You had forgotten they didn't thrive out here in the country, but in the city and for generals leading wars.
What was a ninja doing out here indeed.  Boy were you not bright when it came to thinking on the spot.
Leaning back and crossing your arms, you decided to let the excited demon explain for you, since you certainly hadn't a clue what to say.
“I’m here for no particular reason, sir! I had gotten lost in the mountains during that thunderstorm a few weeks back, and I just so happened to stumble upon the (L/N)’s home. I was lucky she was willing to take me in, for I had injured myself and needed time to heal. I truly owe her my life, for I doubt I would have been able to find a safe place to rest and recover that night if not for her generosity. I vowed to return the favor, and you know ninjas, never one to break a promise, and so I am here to help gather things to repair something I had broken. Though I’m sure we have bad rep around these parts nowadays, I assure you I have no intention of harming anyone. I vowed to protect the innocent, and that is what I will do! I’ll fight the evil of these lands with my own two-!”
You snapped him out of his rambling by gripping at his arm, surprised at how he had managed to come up with what  to say so quickly. Hell, his eyes were even hardened with determination. He was very convincing. 
It definitely made you suspicious of what his true intentions were, if he actually wanted to be a ninja of all things or if he was playing a part and not realizing the potential consequences.
Oh well?
What was even more surprising was how the old man wept, dramatically wiping his aged, teary eyes. “Oh, you good man! We need more men like you around here! My son is a lazy lump of bricks who won’t even help out around here”
“I am here now! Allow me to assist whenever!” Izuku stated righteously, fist raised high and mighty.
At this point, you were just a background character in some sort of weird show as these two practically danced around each other with declarations and tears.
Shaking your head, you quickly cut them off, needing to get things done today and not mess around any longer, “I was wondering if you had the material for a new window?”
“Oh! A window!”
“Yes.. I need a replacement for the one he had broken.”
“You youngsters are always breaking windows these days..” he complained, wiping at his brow before hobbling to the back again.”One moment please.”
Nodding, despite him not even seeing, you waited patiently in near awkward silence, teetering back and forth on your wooden heels.
“Did I uh..” the green-haired man's apprehensive whisper barely caught your ear, “did I go overboard, you think?”
That question was enough to bring giggles bubbling out over your throat, only for him to frantically wave his arms about in front of you, “I-i’m serious!”
Your giggles soon turned into laughs, only making his cheeks redden from embarrassment before he wrapped his arms around his head.
“Just,” you wheezed, “Just a bit, Midoriya.”
You weren’t used to being near people so passionate and enthusiastic about things, especially things made up. It was peculiar and yet it still brought a grin to your face.
Groaning, he looked off to the side, waiting patiently for the old man to return and to end his suffering as you continuously poked at his rosy cheek.
“I think you’d make a great ninja.” you whispered in his ear, breath tickling his skin and making baby hairs stand on end as you leaned over his crouched form, his hands resting on his knees as if to calm himself, unknowingly leaving him wide open for teases he deserved after what had happened the day before.
Gulping down the lump of nervousness in his throat, ridding himself of thoughts he shouldnt be having again, his head whipped back to look at you, eyes glimmering with excitement, “Ah, really?!” 
You were unsure of how he would become one, but, “Yes.” you smiled gently, knowing full well already that he could do anything he set his mind to, a stubborn yet determined man he was.
“No kanoodlin in my shop!” Furukawa had suddenly appeared, damn near hitting the two of you upside the head with a stick.
You were quick to pay him for the materials, nearly tripping over yourself with giggles as Izuku looks nothing short of terrified with how the elderly man glared at him, no doubt piercing through his meek soul. Once you finished loading and securing the supplies in the shoulder bag, you grabbed two of his fingers before pulling him out of the shop with a friendly wave towards the grouchy old man who begrudgingly waved back.
A horse trotted in front of the both of you as you walked out, a loud wagon filled with hay creaking behind it as you continued on down the road in the opposite direction.
“That was.. nerve wracking..” Izuku sighed, one hand clutching the strap to the bag tightly whilst the other goes back to holding your sleeve, no longer cowering behind you as he openly gawks at the abundance of people strolling through the area, as well as eyeing up all the animals wandering about and making all sorts of noises.
“It was a pretty typical interaction to me,” you confessed, shrugging nonchalantly as he groans heavily.
“Are we heading back now?” he questioned, itching to beg you to let him stay if just for a bit longer. He was excited about being out like this, reading many stories revolving around normalities such as these. He had never experienced such a thing before, and it was thrilling, to say the least.
He felt as if he was on cloud nine, observing so many new things and being up close to other things he thought he would never get to see or touch, or, well, smell.
It was as if he himself was in one of the many books he’d read, skipping happily through each page as his wings twitched beneath the fabric with excitement, luckily covered up by the large sack of supplies.
He didn’t want to leave, but he would if you didn't like the idea of staying.
He could always come back with you another time, after all.
But damn did the prospect of going home at this moment dampen his cheery mood. Hell, he could even feel his wings pressed against him droop from inside the kimono at the prospect of doing so.
He was really hoping you wouldn't say yes.
He’d cross his fingers if he could.
“No.”
“Ah, well alright.. we can come back another time right?" It was as if he didn't hear you, too used to being put down and denied that happiness swelling inside his chest.
He continued to walk forward, head bowed down as he stared sadly at the rocks only to be yanked back as your hand slapped onto his wrist for the third time that day. He could get used to that if he was being honest.
He looked back at you, staring blankly as he tried to figure out why you had stopped and why you were giving him such a baffled look.
Had he done something wrong?
Said something wrong?
Or maybe his mere presence had annoyed you.
He hadn't the slightest clue, and he could only helplessly stare at you as he awaited a reason as to why you stopped, heartbeat hammering in his chest and fear squeezing his lungs, rendering him unable to speak.
You raised your eyebrow in question, and that's when it hit him like a rock.
You had said no, not yes!
Oh geez!
That sounds so backwards honestly!
“A-ah! I’m sorry! Oh, I thought y-you said yes!” he screeched, fumbling over his words and inwardly fighting himself at being so stupid.
He was about to go on and ramble out an apology, his nerves strangling him alive, but you had easily cut him off, “It’s alright, don’t worry about it, okay? We’re going to stay out and about for a bit longer. I wanted to show you some things, and get some ingredients if you don’t mind?"
Not that you would really give him the option to mind, besides- you knew that far off look in his eyes too well, it was the same look of wonder in your own eyes when you were a child.
It truly was endearing, you couldn't help but want to indulge in it for a bit, even if you were going to be doing other things anyway.
To hell with putting the window up this evening, perhaps the next. For now, you just wanted a break from having to train a demon by- well. Informing one instead.
“Really!” he exclaims, face immediately lighting up, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled. He's suddenly jumping for joy, shoes making a loud clacking noise that catches the attention of village-folk once again, much to your introverted horror. “Y-you have places you want to show me!? O-oh gosh! Can we go see them now? Oh, there are so many things I want to see here! So many things I’ve read about!”
“Midoriya..” you called out to him hopelessly, wanting to calm him down.
“I want to see a bakery!! To- to smell the freshly baked bread and pastries! I can smell them right now,” he sniffed at the air, eyes slipping closed for a second, tongue poking out as he drooled, “they- they smell so good! I’ve always wondered how they mix ingredients together and fire them to make something so delicious.. How do they know what ingredients to use? How did they find those ingredients? I want to know! Do they memorize how to do it, you think??! And, and a blacksmiths shop! Swords are forged from fire, it sounds so magical, but there must be logic of some kind behind it! Logic I don’t quite understand yet but want to! I want to see it in action, know how they’re made in the first place. It’s from melting rocks right? Or, or metal?! How do they shape the swords? Which material and technique is best to use for the best result? Is that loud banging the making of swords right now? Or something else?”
“Midoriya…”
“Is there a library around here? No, no I guess there wouldn't be one here.. books? I want to know all about the culture of these lands, in more detail! I, I want to see how people's minds work, how they write their feelings or facts down on pages. You can learn a lot from a person based on how they tell a story, you know! Oh!  And I also-!”
He excitedly jabbered on, drawing laughter and gleeful smiles from the people as they passed, only fueling to the heat on your cheeks as they whispered about the cute, excited man rambling on about different aspects of regular life. It was almost too much to understand or even comprehend, let alone answer all in one go. His words were flying over your head from how fast he was speaking.
And so, you simply stood there, off to the side of the road, wringing your hands together as you let him express his pure delight with an abundance of words.
He was a curious person like you’d thought to yourself before, that was for sure.
It got to the point where you were sure nearly five or so minutes had passed, and you didn't want to see how long this could go on for.
Because you knew it could go on for a long while, having been with him for a few weeks now. 
It was a loveable habit of his, one that he always was quick to shut himself up for and apologize profusely, which always pulled at your heartstrings. He had clearly been put down in his past for being so wild, curious, and excited, and that was nothing short of saddening.
You didn't want him to feel like he couldn't talk, or ask questions, hell, even be enthusiastic like he always was. It brought a hint of sugar and spice to your plain life.
So, perhaps another time, but in front of a multitude of onlookers, ready to prod into your lives from how hard they were staring? Absolutely not, unfortunately.
Grabbing his sleeve, you yanked at his, successfully pulling him from his thoughts as his focus snapped over to where your hand was, “Huh?” he asked obliviously, turning to look at you with a tilted head but still cheery smile, green bangs brushing over his eyebrows, making you want nothing more than to sweep them away from his face.
Physical contact, as you learned, was always a better way to get him to focus rather than to snap him from his thoughts with words of your own. Words always made him flinch back and shut himself off, but soft touches somehow never did, keeping the same energy he started with even as he looked at you with wonder. It would often make you wonder why he flinched, or reacted in such a heartbreaking way whenever you’d cut him off with your own words, perhaps an untold story from his past waiting to be unraveled or kept under lock and key. Some things were best not to remember, after all.
Though he told you he was happy to be gone from the place he never truly considered home, you still held some minor doubts.
It was always the kind ones who smiled the brightest like a star in the sky that had the most to hide.
“Do you want to go and experience some of those things that you mentioned? I’m pretty hungry myself, so we could try a bakery right now if you would like? The one here is owned by a nice family, recipes passed down for generations. They got a pretty good grasp of things”
His brows quickly flew up, momentary shock flashing in his eyes before being covered by embarrassment, he had just now realized he rambled on. A momentary delay it seemed.
“S-sure.. eheh..” he chuckled nervously, hand squeezing the bags strap tightly once again as he used his other hand to wrap around his torso. He certainly was bashful for someone who was ‘bred from darkness’, if that red on his cheeks and how he avoided eye contact were anything to go by.
“Let’s go, then.” placing your hand on the much larger one glued to his side, you slowly peeled it away before gingerly holding it, ignoring the stuttered gibberish that trickled from his mouth at the action as you led him to the place that made saliva drip from his mouth.
At the end of the day, you were walking home on sore feet, arms clutching at a flimsy woven basket someone graciously gave you for free containing foods you needed to stock up on.
Izuku, on the other hand, was practically skipping, words flowing from his lips like a waterfall as he reviewed what he learned today, occasionally looking over at your tired form to make sure you were alright. He had offered multiple times to carry the basket, even going as far as trying to grab it, but you refused, wanting to do so yourself since he was now carrying a basket and a bag of his own.
Stubborn, ironically, was the way he described you with a pouty lip, and you had to agree.
It truly was a shame you weren't able to put the new window today, considering you wanted to sleep in your own room, but there was always tomorrow. For now? You were exhausted.
So much so you weren't even sure you could cook dinner.
Demons sure did have a lot of unrelenting energy. You were being dragged around all day, only leading a few times to the places you wished to show him- you didn't even get to show him everything due to his mind moving faster than either one of you could keep up.
Once making it back to the house, you managed to convince the energetic guy to at least continue wearing his hakama after he threw off his hat and the top of his kimono, successfully freeing his wings.
Things on the floor, he gets on his hands and knees, stretching his arms and back out like a cat, his wings flapping out like a birds as he flexed the poor things.
It was horrible how he had to stuff them in his clothing all day, and it truly did make you feel bad, knowing he must have held a form of discomfort all day, hiding it seamlessly.
Perhaps you could buy more clothes for him next time, or even fabric to weave together a kimono made solely for him. 
That would take a long while, but it would be cute, right?
You didn't want him to be uncomfortable in his own home.
You stopped in your tracks as this thought crossed your mind, a perplexed expression making its way onto your tired face, when had you started referring to this house as his home as well?
Had you grown so accustomed to him already that when thinking of this place, or where he lives, this old house comes to mind?
Or did your loneliness fight your conscious to bring forth such a thought out of comfort?
For the first time in years, you weren't alone. You haven't thought much about it until this moment and in a tired state of mind no less.
It was confusing, especially considering you didn't even know when you had started picking up the habit.
Looking back at him, your mouth fell from its straight-lined self to that of awe, your eyes reflecting the same thing.
The golden rays of a honey sunset dripped in through the open door, illuminating the man covered in scars, freckles and tattoos from behind, kissing at his soft, smooth skin and wrapping him in a cocoon of ease and light as he sat there, bathing in the warmth it provided.
His eyes were closed, wings relaxed and hands resting on his thighs as he took the moment in, inhaling deeply as a breeze filtered in, making his curls sway ever so slightly in a mesmerizing way.
Despite what he was or what he used to be, only one word came to your mind as you gazed at hi, ‘angelic.’
You couldn't find it in yourself to be afraid, for all you saw at this moment was a smiling man happily enjoying himself after a long day of bouncing off the walls.
You couldn't stop staring, even if it was rude, his presence enrapturing in the sweetest of ways.
You felt your own body warming at the sight, an innocent blush dancing on your cheeks, only to deepen as his eyes fluttered open, scanning the room, just to fall on you.
His pupils were back to their familiar, snake-like state, but yet they held so much compassion and kindness as if they were just as human as yours were, despite being entirely different.
Neither of you said anything, just staring into each other’s eyes in a way that should've felt weird or awkward.
But nothing about this felt awkward, in fact, it felt natural.
Like you were meant to be entranced by those addicting pools of green, glimmering with the yellows bouncing off the walls just to show your own silhouette in them. It was like staring into a never-ending forest with vines that wanted nothing more than to wrap you in a secure hug, branches of trees filled with fresh leaves swaying in the calming wind behind you as the scent of salt from the creek not too far away made you relax in their embrace.
You weren't aware how long the both of you stared at each other, but one thing was for sure, neither of you minded it, his own smile and reassurance in his gaze is enough to wash away any concerns.
The sudden loud calling of a bird snapped you out of your trance, attention flickering to the door just to see two birds chatting with each other.
“(Y/N)?” he had called out, voice laced with concern but dripping with sugary sweetness and desperation that was all too much to handle after such an intense moment, despite it just being eye contact.
But then again, the eyes were the doorway to the soul, weren't they? And it felt like much more than just that.
Regardless, you turned, ignoring his calls as you rushed to your room, hurriedly closing the door just to slide down it.
Hand clutching at the fabric above your beating heart, you just now noticed how your breath was caught in your throat, and how your heart was hammering wildly.
You breathed heavily, running fingers through your wild hair as you fought to make sense of what just happened.
The truth was, you didn't know.
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esmealux · 3 years
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Could you do 31 and 23 for the prompts?
I absolutely loved this prompt, thank you! <3
This got a lot longer (1.8K) and a lot angstier than I intended. But fret not, it's hurt/comfort at its core and it's Deckerstar stargazing. And also,
ANTI-SPOILER ALERT: This piece takes place after 5a/during 5b. I have not watched the trailer, nor will I. I therefore have no idea what is going to happen in 5b, or if what this fic suggests is remotely close to what is hinted at in the trailer—and I would like remain oblivious. *Looks at you with puppy eyes* So please don't mention anything from the trailer in the comments? It would mean a lot to me ❤ (And yes, I do realise I could've waited two days before posting this, but I wanted to give you guys a little something while you wait.)
Rated M, just to be safe.
Enjoy, my loves!
31. Lost in the middle of nowhere + 23. ‘Hey, at least the stars are beautiful tonight, right?’
He gets in his car, and he drives.
He has no destination in mind, nowhere but ‘away’. Away from Him. From feelings he can’t contain. From eons of neglect. From pain.
Far away.
He drives till there’s no more gas and ends up stranded where the streets have no name, in the moonlit desert.
The car shudders and comes to a halt. With ridiculously shaky hands, Lucifer brings a cigarette and a lighter to his lips, desperately needing the distraction. He flicks the lighter repeatedly, chaotically, but the fire won’t bite, and suddenly he’s hyperventilating, and both cig and lighter are sent flying through the brisk night air.
He roars into the dark void of the night. The thunderous sound resonating off the distant mountain walls startles him like an unexpected ghost. It sounds like him, but not like him. Not like Lucifer, Devil, fallen angel. It sounds like Samael, falling angel—screaming into the abyss as he plummets towards fire and brimstone, his fate and punishment, dealt by Dad.
Lucifer suddenly can’t get out of the car fast enough. He leans against the trunk, his chest heaving rapidly, his lungs fighting for air. He’d thought he was healing, that he was actually starting to put millennia of trauma behind him. And maybe he was. But then He waltzed down and ripped the wound right open.
Such a pestilent, tyrannous prick.
Lucifer needs a drink.
He finds a bottle of something strong and amber in the glove box and brings it back to the trunk. It’s only half-full, and he’d need at least five more bottles to just get tipsy, but it’ll have to do. He wasn’t looking to get shitfaced, anyway. He just wants to take his mind off things, to breathe. And right now, (now that his chance of having a smoke is lying somewhere in the sand) a couple of sips from a mildly exquisite whiskey and the ensuant burn in his throat are the best way to do that.
She finds him like that—because of course she finds him—sitting on the trunk of his car with the near-empty bottle in his hand and looking absolutely wrecked.
She’s tentative as she approaches him, afraid she’s not welcome, that he really did want to be alone. But as she gets close and he looks up at her, dark eyes glistening in the moonlight, she knows being alone is the last thing he needs.
Without a word, neither from her nor from him, she gets up on back of the car and scoots close to him, still keeping some air between them.
‘I thought you could use a friend,’ she says with a slight smile, exactly like she did all those years ago. Now, however, the last word isn’t an overwhelming, meaningful declaration, but a cosmic understatement, and Lucifer can’t help but snort.
Reaching over, Chloe grabs his hand and interlocks their fingers. ‘Also, I wasn’t gonna let my partner get lost in the middle of nowhere alone.’
‘I’m not lost,’ he objects, but his voice, hollow and lined with despair, betrays him. He may know the way back to LA, but he is definitely lost.
Sensing he doesn't want to talk about it, Chloe gestures towards the bottle still dangling from his fingers and asks for a sip. His lips tug up into the smallest of smirks as he hands over the bottle with a half-hearted ‘Be my guest’.
She leans her head back, eyes turning to the night sky as she takes a swig (just a nip; one of them still has to drive home at some point). It tastes like evening kisses. Occassionally, morning kisses too.
A cool breeze whirls around them, and Chloe snuggles closer to Lucifer. She does have a plaid in the car, and she will get it in a minute, but right now, she settles for stealing some body heat, hoping her seatmate doesn’t mind too much. She hands him back the bottle and snakes a hand under his layers, up his bare back. He sighs shakily, the taut muscles beneath Chloe’s hand loosening up. It tugs at something in her chest—the way he’s calmed by her touch alone.
Chloe looks up again, at the tiny, abundant jewels glimmering against the dark sky. ‘At least the stars are beautiful tonight, right?’
In the middle of downing the last drops of whiskey, Lucifer absent-mindedly replies with a ‘Hm?’
‘Stars,’ Chloe repeats. ‘They’re beautiful.’
Hesitantly, almost reluctantly, Lucifer lets his eyes glide up. He’s quiet as he takes it in, the black canopy adorned with white, pearlescent specks. His gaze is somewhat distant, reminiscent. Wistful.
‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, not as a vocative, but as an eureka. She’s said his name so many times before, screamed it, whispered it, cried it—with passion and pain and everything in between—but now is the first time she says it actually knowing what it means. Or at least she’s pretty sure she does.
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ she asks him with a whisper, more in awe than accusatory, and the soft, melancholic smile he gives her is answer enough. ‘You let there be light.’ It’s not a question this time, just an overwhelming realisation spoken out loud.
‘Well, technically,’ Lucifer corrects, glancing over at her, ‘it was Dad who created Light.’ His gaze turns upwards again, eyes suddenly twinkling with pride. ‘The almighty wanker was just too lazy to hang it up there himself.’
Stunned, Chloe stares at the sky with new reverence. It’s breath-taking, both the sight itself—diamonds and sparkling dust sprinkled across a sea of nothing—and the fact that Lucifer made that. He literally hung the stars in the sky.
The fact that he hasn’t mentioned this before, that he hasn’t boasted about it, hasn’t proudly told everyone he’s the artist behind the original Starry Night also says something.
Peering up at him from where her head is now resting against his shoulder, Chloe sees a look on his face she can only describe as ‘homesick’.
‘They remind you of your dad’s love for you,’ she realises, voice quiet.
Lucifer scoffs, but there’s no humour in it. Just pain. ‘What love?’
Chloe doesn’t blame him for doubting. With all the light God (apparently) gave Lucifer, He gave him a thousand times more darkness. (And she is going to talk to Him about that. Later. When she’s hugged the living shit out of His son). But Chloe can tell He, despite everything, does love Lucifer—and that Lucifer is using this resentment towards Him to avoid facing the fact that he, still, loathes himself just as much. If not more.
The thought makes Chloe sick, and she suddenly feels the need to tell him, ‘You’re worthy, you know?’
He looks down at her. A wet streak on his cheek catches the silvery light of the moon. ‘I do?’ The insecurity in his voice is a sharp jab in her chest. But again, she doesn’t blame him.
‘You are,’ she states again for emphasis, holding his gaze. ‘You’re worthy of love, and light.’ With her free hand, the one that isn’t stroking the small of his back beneath his shirt and jacket, she cups his face and swipes her thumb across his stubble. ‘You deserve it. You deserve happiness, more than any other person in this world.’
He doesn’t say anything in return, but he doesn’t have to. The smile he gives her in return, warming and breaking her heart at the same time, speaks for itself. Just to get her point across, she leans up and kisses him. It’s teary and tender, and it’s a promise. To always love him—both the light and the dark, and all the colours in between.
They lean their foreheads against each other’s when they break apart, eyes still closed.
After a long, needed moment, Chloe lets her hand drop from Lucifer’s cheek to his thigh.
‘So,’ she breathes, the pall from their prior conversation vanishing into the night with her light, playful tone, ‘constellations?’
He chuckles beside her, the sound low and warm in her ear. ‘Not what you humans make them out to be.’
She fights the urge to roll her eyes at his ‘you humans’, and asks, intrigued, ‘No Big Dipper?’
‘No.’ He clicks his tongue. 'But there is a Big Pecker somewhere.’
She glares at him. ‘You drew a dick in the sky?’
His lips spread into a proud grin. ‘And a pair of boobs, if you have a little imagination.’ He points to a distant spot above them. ‘Those seven points there, the brighter ones—they form a symbol in my mother tongue. A message for my dear twin.’
‘Oh?’ Lucifer rarely ever speaks of, much less in the celestial language. It’s another part of his past Chloe hasn’t learned much about. But hopefully, over time, she will.
‘Yes, it means… how would you say?’ He thinks for a second—or pretends to—and eventually concludes, ‘Cunt, I believe, would be the appropriate translation.’
This time, Chloe doesn’t resist rolling her eyes—because nothing about that is ‘appropriate’. Maybe except for the fact that it was directed at Michael.
‘I know,’ he says, like he’s reading her mind. But he really isn’t, because he follows up with, ‘An insult to the temple of pleasure I value more than any other organ.’
Having met the guy, Chloe doesn’t disagree; Michael definitely lives up to more vile name-calling than ‘cunt’. (Also, she's pretty sure Lucifer is wrong about it being his favourite body part. She’s pretty sure the organ he values more than any other is his own Big Pecker, because she’s seen the way he looks at himself in the shower, and all the other places she finds him naked; the vain idiot is practically obsessed with his own meat. Not that she blames him.) But before she has the chance to tell him that, he says-
‘You have to forgive me. I was only a couple of thousand years old.’ There’s a glint in his eye, and Chloe can’t help but laugh, because it’s true what Linda said; he really is the oldest, most immature person in the world.
Chloe tells him as much.
He simply smirks in return. ‘I may be old, Detective, but I’m more vigorous in bed than any mortal man, old or young, and you know it.’
It only proves her point, about him being immature, and obsessed with his penis. But frankly, Chloe does know it, and for once, she feels like stroking his ego (among other things). So she grabs him by the hand, leads him into the car, onto plush leather, onto her, and as the stars twinkle and gleam above them, they put that vigour of his to good use.
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lov3nerdstuff · 4 years
Text
Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.28}
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*Severus Snape x OC*
Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.
General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing
Words: 5.7k
Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!
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It was the middle of March when a simple trip to Hogsmeade turned into the beginning of the very end.
Robin had let Cas and Jorien talk her into coming along to town this Hogsmeade Saturday, and she had used the opportunity to sell another batch of rare ingredients in the small dingy shop she had actually come to appreciate for just that at this point. After dropping the girls off at Honeydukes, she'd gone on to the potions shop by herself, scared the shop owner beyond reason yet again just for her own amusement, and left a little while later with an even larger sum of galleons in her bag than the previous time she had been there. Really, it was incredible for just how much some of the stuff she possessed sold even around here. Thus, content and smiling to herself for the well accomplished mission, she made her slow way back from the shady part of the village to where she was supposed to meet the girls on high street in twenty minutes. Hopefully time would pass quickly… it was terribly cold outside, even for March, and Robin couldn't wait for a nice hot cup of coffee in whatever cafe the girls would surely drag her into next.
When she crossed from one mud covered street into an even narrower alley of much the same sodden ground, her smile was wiped off her face however, in the very instant a repelling spell hit her square in the chest and sent her flying backwards into the half frozen dirt of the larger road before she even had the time to register what was happening to her. Suddenly void of every air in her lungs, Robin gasped, then yelped when her back hit the hard ground and unruly stone, sending a hot searing pain up her spine that made her eyes water. Adrenaline rushed into her veins, as flooring as it was exhilarating, and while her mind was spinning as it tried to grasp for a sense of what was happening, she already had her wand in her hand only for it to be knocked straight out of there again by an Expelliarmus spoken by a very much familiar voice. Oh no…
"A path of shadows isn't a good place for my little songbird to dwell in… It isn't safe out here. The cats might come to prey on you." Damion Morgan sighed exaggeratedly, while he picked Robin's wand off the ground before she ever had the chance to reach for it. "Get up now dear, before you become as sodden as the ground."
Robin's mind spun in hazy circles of panic as she scrambled to her feet without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. Really, it was her bad luck that it was his turn to supervise this particular Hogsmeade weekend. And away from the school, away from anyone who would witness the incident, she was as good as doomed alone with him in this bloody back alley. For a second, her mind sped through her options. Apparating away? No, not without her wand. Wandless magic, perhaps? In the matter of a few seconds she tried every defensive spell she knew she could do without her wand, running a string of words through her mind with as much focus as she could fathom, but they all proved ineffective against the smug man in front of her. Fuck… he certainly wouldn't make it as easy for her as the last few times, he had already shown her glimpses of that back on new year's. Perhaps he wasn't quite as untalented in the dark arts as she had always tried to convince herself of.
"You needn't try, darling. After the little stunt you pulled on me on the night of the welcoming feast, I have seen to it that my own resistance to your admirable spellwork was fit to counter. And after years of studying you in my class, I know just what spells you have up your sleeve." He told her just in that moment with a disgustingly sweet smile. Dropping his arm with his wand to his side then, he took a step closer to Robin to be right in front of her now. "I had so hoped we could do this in another way. I had hoped it would never have to come this far, if only you had chosen me as I have chosen you. Now, all there is left for either of us is pain."
"Indeed." Robin replied in a breathless huff, and while she didn't understand a single thing of what he was saying with his many words, she knew that she wouldn't get a better chance than this. Without wasting any time overthinking for once, she curled her hand into a fist and punched Morgan straight in the face as strongly as she could. Magic was nice and all, but sometimes the muggle way to do things did work just as well. The blazing pain, the sting and burn that spread from her knuckles up into her entire arm in an instant was well worth it as she discovered, for Morgan dropped both Robin's wand and his own when he instinctively clutched his hands to his hurting face.
What followed then definitely followed too fast. Robin went to claw for her wand immediately, but so did Morgan with his own. Both reached theirs in a striking simultaneity, and in the very same they directed at each other their respectively chosen spells. It wasn't a matter of thought, of conscious action or strategy, but rather an adrenaline driven instinctive defense that made Robin send yet another stunning spell at Morgan. And it seemed no less instinctive for him to send a curse to her in return. Both spells hit their target, both too quick and intricate to deflect. Morgan once more landed on his behind in the offgoing alley, groaning but unfortunately still very much in consciousness. Robin on the other hand let out a bone chilling scream, then crippled into a heap on the very ground she had stood upon, ridden by such a sudden explosion of pain in every cell of her body that it replaced both sense of self and thought. She couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move… Her wand lay only inches from her hand, but she found the distance impossible to cross, impossible to think of fighting back at all. All she could do was to keep her eyes wide open as she lay curled up on her side in repeated shivers of pain that drowned out even the cold around her, beneath her, and to watch how Morgan came approaching her once again. His wand raised and pointed at her with a sneer on his face.
"You will have to be better than that, my dear…" He sighed in a raspy voice, then finally crouched down right in front of her and almost affectionately brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "You will never succeed if you do not even try. The time has almost come, I'm afraid, and I can no longer hold it off. Neither can I resist you anymore. Oh, how I wish you just could've been mine."
All Robin could do in return was to whimper, as pathetic as it was, but she had no capacity left within her being to care about anything but the pain that was eating her up from the inside. Only in blurred lines above her in her quaking field of vision, Morgan's face twisted in as much agony as she felt, and yet he wore an expression of the utmost sympathy. Robin suddenly felt sick and terribly exposed, and she turned her face downward in a vain attempt to shield herself from the sight of him. Pressing herself into the mud and stone beneath her even if the rash pebbles cut into her skin like a million shards of cruel fate.
"I could end it right here, you know… I should end it here and in this instant." He spoke again, through a layer of sincere remorse. "But I cannot do it if you do not resist. I… I can't, Robin. Not like this. Please don't make me do it like this."
The pain in her body surged to new heights with every word he said, and she let out a strangled sob, a cry of sheer agony even, and perhaps an equal amount of fear. Every atom of her body was torn apart, stabbed with a million knives over and over again while her soul was split into a state between life and death. So much for fighting back… so much for doing anything to protect herself. There was nothing she could do now. She's had her chance, and she'd waisted it on the mildest repelling spell she knew. A bloody idiot, that she was, and nothing more. Perhaps, for that, she did deserve death after all.
No. She was better than that. Robin couldn't give in, not now, not like this, not ever. She had made a mistake by choosing the wrong spell, yes, but she had to work with the consequences now. She would not give up. Never. She couldn't do that to Snape… after all he had been through in his life, he deserved happiness that lasted longer than bloody two and a half months before the next tragedy came haunting him. So did she. They deserved better, and no bloody Damion Morgan could get in the way of that. With the most miserably shaking hand, she tried reaching for her wand, fingertips brushing against the dark wood after what seemed like eternities of pain. Do it do it do it do it do it… Her instincts begged her to finally make use of one of the thousands of horrible curses she had come across over the years, or even to just apparate away for good. But when her sight fell onto Morgan's highly expectant, almost begging expression, her reason won over the instinct. He wanted her to fight. Wanted her to try running. And she would not play this game by his rules anymore.
With another pained whine, Robin clasped her wand in her hand, holding both tightly pressed against her chest, then she rolled onto her back to look up at Morgan's twisted face above her, and even further up at the blindingly white sky. A new wave of maddening pain, she could hardly breathe. Hardly think.
"You really are quite beautiful, you know… Even now, like this." Morgan sighed sadly while his eyes traced the paths Robin's angry tears had painted on her muddied skin. "And while I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see. I must say though that the earrings are a nice addition. Very… modern."
His words still made no sense to Robin's mind, not now, not when the pain took away most of her thoughts in the first place. But she knew that she wanted him to stop playing with her. Think, idiot, through the bloody haze of pain! She'd done it before, pushing the pain away behind the walls in her mind… just enough to make room for reason. Just to focus, just for a moment.
He expected her to fight, or to run, to act in any way they had been taught in his very own class. Therefore he must be looking out for those spells, ready to stop her, ready to attack in return. He wanted her to resist, to fight back, that much had been clear for a long while now… and if she attacked him like that indeed, she very likely wouldn't survive the backlash he had probably been preparing for months now. At least not in her current state of painforced weakness. A state she had brought upon herself when she had let him put that curse on her. A curse of the kind he could only uphold if he put his entire focus on it. Gods! That was the flaw in his actions she had been looking for.
Still very much trembling, she lifted her hand to point her wand up at the sky, then closed her eyes when Morgan started to smile at her doings. He was still waiting for her to make the move that would finally allow him to murder her after all… but she wouldn't do him that favor. She had learned long ago to follow her reason, not her fight or flight instincts. This had to work, she had to be better. For herself, for Snape, for her friends. A faint Lux Obscurius left her lips in even less than a breath as her eyes flew open again, and a broken second later she could feel the earth beneath her vibrating when black lightnings hit the ground around her like a relentless hailstorm of her own fury.
It was enough. Enough to catch Morgan by surprise, to make him lose touch with his spellwork, his focus on Robin, and when the echo of soundless thunder overtook the air around them, the curse's pain was gone from Robin's mind, pushed out of her body by enough adrenaline that forced her onto her feet in an instant. Her wand gripped tightly in her hand, she pointed it at Morgan who staggered to his feet a second later when sound returned to the world.
He tried throwing another curse at her, but Robin had no problem deflecting it even without a word now that she knew what to expect. He tried again and again, growing in desperation and anger while losing in focus and determination, which made it all the easier for Robin to counter while her body and mind slowly recovered from the horrible pain. Luckily the curse had only been on her for a mere few minutes. She was still hurting now… but more so from her hard landing on the ground and a few scratches than from any kind of magic. So far so good.
"Haven't you learned anything throughout the years?!" Morgan cried out at her after a moment, and the string of spells thrown at Robin stopped for the moment as he caught his breath. "You are supposed to fight me! I'm trying to kill you and you just stand there like it's none of your goddamn business! Defend yourself properly, for heaven's sake!!! Try at least! Please!"
"No." Robin got out more or less calmly, but she knew better than to let his talking distract her again. She had made the mistake of letting him catch her off guard once, of underestimating what he would do to her if he got the chance. She wouldn't do it a second time. Neither would she attack him though, even if she had in past times almost hoped for a situation like this. An opportunity to get rid of him. But now that it was here, right in front of her, she found that she couldn't even curse him. Leave alone kill him, like she had always thought she would want to if it came this far. But she simply couldn't bring herself to do either.
"You are just like her, you know that?!" He yelled across the short distance between them, half in laughter, half in despair. "You're too bloody perfect, too much of everything I need to live. I have never been one for irony, but you, love, you are perhaps fate's cruelest twist of bloody irony in existence!"
Robin didn't respond to that. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, not when he clearly was having a conversation with someone that wasn't her. Not really, anyway. He was just insane; only a madman talking nonsense who was trying to kill her for fun or his own delusional reasons whenever they met outside of class. That was all there was to it, all there could to be. Deep down however, Robin was starting to doubt just that more and more. He didn't seem insane… only caught up in a different reality than her. She was merely clinging onto her version of things for her own good at this point, and she would continue to do so until there was a more reasonable explanation. But for now, she stayed silent either way.
"You know that I will not stop trying, don't you? I cannot stop!" Morgan went on instead, loudly and unbothered in his desperation as if they weren't still in the middle of Hogsmeade. "And unless you kill me first, there is nothing you can do to change your fate!"
The loud banging of a wooden door to Robin's left suddenly caught both her and Morgan's attention then, as it flew open harshly before a bulky barrel of a man came stomping out with a deep frown on his face. Must be the backdoor to one of the taverns, Robin remembered just then. A truly lucky coincidence.
"What's all that shouting and yelling about now again?! Y'all be scaring my customers away!" The burly man bellowed in an instant, and his small angry eyes scanned Robin at first, then Morgan, and finally both their battered and dirty appearances. His anger turned into weariness in an instant, and he addressed Robin with an almost reluctant gaze and a motion towards Morgan. "Need any help dealing with that fellow?"
"Thank you…" Robin replied with a polite but very much feigned smile, then didn't even take her eyes off the barman while she sent a silent Stupefy at the still distracted Morgan, who registered her sudden attack only way too late. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw how the professor was thrown back and down the road by the spell, then stayed lying on the ground in a motionless heap. Truly unconscious, at long last. And yet, Robin's eyes did not once leave the flabbergasted bar owner who stared at her in return as she went on with her statement after a breath. "But I believe I am just fine."
"I, uh… Sorry, for… for interrupting." The man finally stammered out after a moment of taking in Robin's perfectly feigned calm and Morgan's unconscious body. "I'm just… gonna get back to my bar and leave you to your own business."
"Actually," Robin was quick to stop him from vanishing through the door, as she took a determined step towards him, "I would very much appreciate it if I could shortcut to high street through your… establishment."
… … …
Ten minutes later, Robin had almost reached the shop where she was supposed to meet Cas and Jorien. She'd gotten rid of the mud and water that had clung onto her in chunks before setting foot onto high street, which then had left her only with messy hair, a bleeding scratch over her eyebrow and too many thoughts yet to be dealt with. A look into one of the shop windows confirmed that she still looked quite as terrible as she felt; cold, confused, exhausted and anxious enough to burst. Putting her hair up into a bun and a stasis charm onto the scratch to provisionally keep it from bleeding did a good enough job at fixing the outside flaws, but her mind remained troubled as it could be when she finally went to seek out the girls. She was 10 minutes late anyway, no need to let them wait even longer than that.
But even when she slowly approached their meeting spot, she couldn't quite move past what had just happened. Sure, Morgan had hurt her before, had said things along the same lines of her belonging to him, but this just surpassed it all. She didn't doubt that he truly wanted to kill her, even if her refusal to fight back seemed to have hindered him in that today. He certainly wouldn't allow himself to make such a mistake another time, wouldn't hold back nor let his twisted emotions overcome him. His intention was more than clear at this point; his reasons were not. Because as much as Robin wanted to blame it all on insanity, the things he'd said and done, the sincere desperation and agony displayed on his face when he had begged her to fight back just didn't add up anymore. There was a reason to the things he did, a very much sane one, but it was yet veiled in darkness. He said he would try to end her again… So she would have to find out what the hell was going on before then. Why he had said those weird things that still kept nagging at her mind in the strangest way, ringing some distant bells she couldn't quite put her finger to. Gods, she felt exhausted enough for her hands to shake even beyond the cold… it was a miracle that her legs hadn't given out yet.
"Finally you grace us with your presence, Robin!!! Jorien and I have been freezing to death out here for the last ten minutes!" Cas' relieved and reproachful voice pulled Robin out of her thoughts, but it also made her jump in an instant. Visibly, for once. Great…
"Are you alright?" Jorien asked immediately with a big frown on her face, just when Robin came to stand in front of them. "You look-… There's really no nice way to say it. Tired and battered is the mildest one, probably."
"Oh, you know me… always running into one thing or another." She replied with a sigh and a half smile that was more feigned than sincere. "But yeah, I'm quite exhausted, and way too cold. I'm sorry I made you wait, I was held up and couldn't get away from the situation for the longest time."
"It's fine…" Cas sighed as well, a lot milder in her expression already. "We were late anyway, so we really only waited a couple minutes out here."
That finally brought a sincere smile to Robin's lips, even if a small one. Of course they'd been late as well… they always were. Well, thank Morgan for holding her up long enough to spare her the waiting time. Robin snorted at her own thought, and couldn't quite understand why almost dying was suddenly so amusing. Then again, Snape had always been saying that her humour could be quite morbid at times. He was right, as always. Gods, she just wanted to be back with him already, wrapped up in a tight hug, telling him all about what happened… but he was still stuck with the dunderheads who had earned themselves detention this week, and wouldn't be free until after dinnertime. Which was one of the main reasons why Robin had agreed to go to Hogsmeade today in the first place.
"If you're exhausted, we perhaps better skip the next part of our grandiose plans for the day…" Jorien said, thereby regaining Robin's attention in time for her to see the sheer disappointment on both girls' faces. "It probably was a stupid idea anyway. Let's just go to a cafe instead."
"No, it's alright! Don't worry about me." Robin replied in an instant, when her inability to bear seeing the girls sad got the better of her. Damn her empathy, a cozy cafe sounded nice right now… and whatever plans they had made surely wouldn't be nearly as relaxing. But as much as she annoyed herself by doing so, she couldn't help putting them and their happiness first. "We can do whatever you guys originally planned. It's fine!"
The smiles were back on their faces in an instant, as was the excitement and mischief, and while Robin didn't know what she had just gotten herself into, she was prone to find out when they immediately started dragging her off down the street. Two minutes later, they stepped through the door to one of the surprisingly many clothes shops in the small village, and this one obviously seemed to cater more to the younger generations. That was the only thing Robin could tell from the look around she had immediately upon their entrance. A nervous habit, really, that had only intensified now after getting so stupidly taken by surprise earlier.
"So…" Cas started with a grin while she walked ahead in obvious certainty where she wanted to go. "You know how in a week I'm going home with Simon for the easter holidays, right?"
"You mentioned it a couple million times, yes." Robin sassed in feigned annoyance, but her small smile was a sincere one yet again. How could she forget, when both Cas and Simon had been speaking of little else over the last few days. It was rather adorable, really, how excited both of them were to spend time together outside of school for once, at last, after over a year of dating. Robin had the utmost understanding for that, and for them in general.
"Funny." Cas rolled her eyes at Robin, but then went on while she slalomed around shelves and tables of clothes with the others in tow. "Anyway, I wanted to get some nicer things for the occasion. You know, like some pajamas and underwear and stuff… Everything I have is terribly childish or boring and just meh."
Oh dear… Robin could relate more to that than she wanted to admit, and that level of subtle embarrassment wasn't something she currently wanted to deal with. Nor did she want to discuss these matters with her roommates, even if they seemed to have no reluctance to do so the other way round. To her luck, they at least weren't here because of her. Or so she sincerely hoped.
"To shortcut Cas' elaborations, we picked out some stuff for her, but we couldn't really decide and weren't too sure if it was too much or too little, so we were hoping you could give your usual overly-rational evaluation." Jorien concluded factually, and Robin only nodded her agreement with a silent sigh.
This really was the most horrible timing; she had no room in her mind for insignificant matters like clothing! There was only fear and anxiety and concern… and Morgan's words still nagging at her. 'You are just like her', he'd said. Like who? Did Robin remind him of someone who all of his anger and affection likewise were actually directed at? 'While I look at your lovely being every morning and every night of every day, you I hardly ever get to see.'... What the hell was that supposed to mean? Robin always made a conscious effort to avoid Morgan as much as possible, to the extent of almost hiding from him during mealtimes. They only really met in defense classes these days. So he really hardly got to see her indeed… but he looked at her being every day? One of the photos of her that had been in the paper, perhaps? But then he would see her as well, not her being. Ugh, this was just-...
"Earth to Robin!" Cas snapped her fingers in front of Robin's face with raised eyebrows. They were standing in front of a line of changing cubicles now, or rather Jorien and Robin were, while Cas stood in the door of one and moved back towards the mirror inside where she looked at herself. Robin had to frown when her attention returned to the current moment. Cas was still wearing her own clothes, but in the mirror, her reflection wore the piece she was trying to show to her friends.
"Interesting spellwork with the mirrors…" Robin mused before she could help it. "Is that a common thing in clothes shops around here?"
"...yes?!" Cas scoffed incredulously at the –to her– obviously inane question. "You really don't go shopping often enough. The mirrors are charmed to show you what the pieces would look like on you. Then you only have to try on the things you actually like on yourself for the right size. We've done that already, so it's just deciding between the looks now. What do you think?"
With an almost impressed expression, Robin studied both the mirror and Cas' reflection for a moment to actually make an effort at last. Perhaps this wasn't quite as terrible as she'd thought… Sure, it seemed kind of ridiculous to be here shopping now after she'd had to fight for her life half an hour ago. But perhaps that was why it was a good idea after all; a remedy for all the ghosts in her head, the fear and anxiety in her body. It might do her good to get some distance to the events before trying to understand them.
Thus for the next forty minutes Robin did her best to actually focus on the girls and on helping Cas with her shopping. They really had picked some nice things that weren't too over the top, and after Robin had given her commentary and evaluation as well, the selection Cas was left with was well worth their efforts. Robin was almost led to believe that allowing them to drag her here hadn't been quite such a terrible idea as she'd originally thought.
That was until Jorien and Cas were fooled enough by Robin's desperate efforts to push through this endeavor with the very last of her energy and enthusiasm to try to make her try things on as well. And that Robin really didn't have the mindset for today. Being alive was currently a higher priority to her than being well dressed, which the two younger girls of course had no understanding for. They couldn't, really, and Robin wouldn't burden them with it either. Thus she agreed to let them pick whatever while she would patiently stand in front of the mirror to let them gawk at the reflection, as long as she wouldn't have to actually physically change. Or make an effort to show sincere interest in any of the pieces any longer.
For a while the girls picked all kinds of both horrendous and actually quite nice pieces just to giggle and fawn over and Robin simply let them. As long as they were having fun, she couldn't care less if they made her reflection look like a clown or a magazine model. And while her reflection's garments changed from t-shirts to dresses to pajamas to lingerie, she resumed her pondering of Morgan's words and actions as well as her own. Ignoring the outside world as successfully as ever for a good twenty minutes at least.
"How strange…" Cas' half humoured and half confused huff was what pulled Robin back into the reality around her at last, and she followed the girl's line of sight to her underwear-clad reflection. Good gods… she looked like the closest thing to a piece of pastry she'd ever seen. Or an 18th century mistress. Or both.
"What's so strange?" Jorien asked a short moment later, and frowned at Robin's ridiculous reflection as well.
"I haven't really noticed before either, because I was admittedly distracted by the fun pieces of clothing, but it's really quite obvious now." Cas replied and crossed her arms over her chest with an almost smug expression. "Tell me, what do you see?"
Jorien scoffed, then rolled her eyes, but went to answer nonetheless. "Well, I see Robin, looking like an ancient painting of some royal hooker. Don't tell me you see any more than that in the mirror…"
The words sent a surge of immediate anxiety and adrenaline through Robin, and while she thought that it was due to the discomfort upon looking like a tart at first, the impression soon was replaced by the nagging in the back of her mind that picked up stronger than ever. Her mind started spinning too fast, thoughts tumbling over each other in both panic and reason. Gods, she could almost grasp the thought, the words that were haunting her now.
"Well duh…" Cas rolled her eyes, then tapped against the glass on the height of Robin's ribs. "There's no scar, idiots! As far as I remember, Robin has a rather visible scar on her rib cage, while the reflection doesn't. Isn't that odd? As if the reflection isn't even you."
A wall inside Robin's mind collapsed in that instant, and buried her under the impossible weight of its ashes. Its implications. She could hardly breathe. Paintings… Reflections… Scars… Earrings. A wild rush of adrenaline. Panic. She felt sick as soon as she finally understood.
"Robin, are you alright? You look terrible again… Did we say something wrong?" Jorien inquired instead of reacting to Cas' explanation, and half a second later both girls were gazing at her in concern. Robin had no capacity left to care that she worried them. She had no capacity for anything outside of her own mind.
"I need to get back to the castle. Now." She said in a quiet voice, staring at her own eyes in the mirror for just a moment longer before spinning on her heels and making for the shop's exit. Every cell in her body stood on edge, every emotion locked away behind the thickest walls she could muster up to cope with reality. Right now, she only needed reason, as much of it as she could get. And in a spurt of just that she looked over her shoulder at the two confused girls once more before she reached the door. "I'm sorry, I just remembered something very important that I have forgotten about for far too long. Do go on shopping without me though, and be sure to tell me all about it at dinner, yes?"
Then, without waiting for an answer, she was out of the door and on her way back to the castle. Her lungs hurt, heart racing, head spinning, and her eyes stung terribly from both the wind and unshed tears of raw anxiety. Perhaps it was only the shock of realisation hitting her, or perhaps she was really quite so scared. She didn't know if she hoped to be right or wrong in the unnerving suspicion that had fallen upon her like the darkest of night. Because frankly, either way would end in a nightmare.
______________________________
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sanjuno · 4 years
Text
Meta Fic rides again
I'm a little stuck on how to word something in my Nano 2020 project so I decided to take a break by trying to read “Scum Villain’s Self Saving System” again and failed horribly because I got to the part when Binghe comes back and my interest died a quick and messy death for yet a third time. Someone write me a giant pile of gen-fic and LiuShen AUs to heal my heart.
Here, I’ll start us off:
Spite and Fury (or; PEDW is a hive of Scum and Villainy)
So bitter-old-man!Madara dies of old age after he passes his Epic Revenge Plot over into Obito’s keeping, and the Sage’s knockoff-brand cycle-of-transmigration peels Indra’s chakra out of Madara’s soul - which results in dying!Madara having a screaming ragefit that sends his spirit-and-chakra careening through the void between worlds
At which point shattered-and-fragmenting-more!Madara gets into an altercation with the System and since the System is a little bitch it tosses Madara into the worst possible Fate it can think of (see: PEDW)
Transmigration bullshit and Sharingan fuckery smash into each other in a gigantic clusterfuck of asspulls
Madara is missing bits because Indra’s imprint got ripped out
The Shen Jiu base soul is missing bits because torture and previous abuse of his character by the System
The resulting villain amalgamation is Not Pleased
Instead of landing in the divergence point chosen by the System - aka the Qi deviation fever shortly after Binghe arrives at Cang Qiong Sect – we instead have the jigsaw puzzle mashup of Mads-and-Jiu land in baby-slave Jiu’s body
The good news is Madara and Jiu stop fragmenting because they end up woven together - they’re stuck together as an almost-single person only with two different sets of memories
Character exploration is going to be an EVENT
Also the Madara part of them is really happy with the silky smooth hair
Also Yue “lets-Binghe-kill-him-because-he-thinks-Shen-Jiu-is-dead” Qi is cast is a much better light when compared to Senju “stabs-his-sworn-brother-in-the-back” Hashirama
So Mads-Jiu plays it close to canon for the first few years - the only real difference is that he tags his Jiejie with a tracking seal for after he escapes from slavery - he’s not leaving his ability to find her again up to chance or developing a reputation as a whoremonger if he can help it
When he gets bought by the Qiu is when Mads-Jiu starts being a manipulative little shit like we all know he is
Xanatos-pileup-or-bust!Mads-Jiu basically lets Yue Qi escape alone because he NEEDS Yue Qi to become Cang Qiong Sect Leader for his long-term plans to work properly
So Mads-Jiu warns Yue Qi that if he has to be CAREFUL because cultivating is dangerous and if Yue Qi comes back missing any pieces then Jiu will cut the EXACT SAME BITS OFF HIMSELF
And so Yue Qi is EXTREMELY safety conscious and the life eating sword drama is avoided entirely
Of course he’s also taking longer to reach his initial strength levels than in canon because he isn’t rushing
So there’s nothing like Yue Qi showing up early to trigger a plot divergence alert in the System
</mwahahaha>
Mads-Jiu is more pragmatic regarding Qiu Haitang’s so-called innocence this time around - and so he arranges for her to catch the Creeper Qiu bro abusing and assaulting Shen Jiu
Haitang is HORRIFIED AND DISGUSTED to see what her brother is doing to her fiancé and also TERRIFIED by the fact that he talks the entire time about how sweet it’s going to be when it’s HAITANG under him
The Qiu burn on schedule but Haitang kills her fair share - double Qi deviations FTW!
The system does not notice such a minor change in the background events - Jiu kills the Qiu, burns down their house, and Haitang survives the fire with vengeance raging in her heart
Mads-Jiu kills the demonic creeper that was hanging around because ew no and also keep your hands of Haitang
Again, it’s too close to canon for the System to notice - Jiu killed him in defense of a “childhood friend” so hahaha again
Instead of being used as a stalking horse by an evil master Mads-Jiu runs off with Haitang to track down and rescue his Jiejie
Shenanigans ensue
Afterwards Mads-Jiu “has an idea to help find Qi-ge” by asking around for him at the Immortal Alliance Conference
Of course there are more shenanigans and Yue Qi saves all three by claiming that they’re Cang Qiong disciples - so of course he drags all 3 of them back with him and wibbles at the current Sect Leader until he lets them all join
Still (mostly) following canon! Ha! So no “punishment” events get triggered in the System (which is mostly dormant because the Protagonist isn’t born yet XP)
Qiu Haitang was supposed to join a Sect! Jiejie got sold on schedule! Shen Jiu killed the Qiu and his “first master”! Yue pesters his Shizun into letting his sibling(s) join the Sect in an unorthodox fashion!
But the devil is in the details
And the devil’s name is Uchiha Madara
Jiejie ends up as Peak Lord for Talisman Peak because magic and seals saved her before
Haitang ends up Peak Lord for Hidden Peak because she refuses to be caught unawares by a dangerous secret ever again... also because she’s a mean sneaky bitch and owns it
Having more than one sibling for the Sect Leader to blatantly favour means less wholesale resentment directed at Mads-Jiu as well
However the Jiu part of them has memories from PIDW and also SVSSS - so he knows that shit is going to get horrible once Su Xiyan gets knocked up
Obviously the answer is to seduce all of his fellow peak lords into a glorious polyamorous clusterfuck so as to promote skinship and pack bonding and harmony among the sect leadership
(It worked for PIDW Binghe with his wives and SVSSS Shen Yuan with getting Bing-mei to chill his tits after all and nobody can trip you into bed quite like a shinobi)
And so Cang Qiong’s family aesthetics get rocked so hard that instead of panting after his Shizun baby disciple Binghe decides to seduce his peers...
... and his rivals
... and other sect’s disciples
... and the occasional demon
Mads-Jiu is really proud of his baby demon lord but makes sure not to single Binghe out - instead every Qing Jing disciple gets rewarded and punished at the same time
It promotes bonding! And teamwork!
And prevents the utter destruction of Mads-Jiu’s chrysanthemum via oversized demonic pillar!
There is totally going to be an extra where Mads-Jiu realizes that the average size of a male cultivators pillar is DANGEROUSLY EXCESSIVE
NOBODY NEEDS THAT MUCH PILLAR
Even HIS pillar hasn’t escaped the curse
BIGGER IS NOT BETTER!
How the fuck is he supposed to fight if he can’t even wear pants comfortably!?!?
(No wait come back Mu-shidi this shixiong is sorry it wasn’t mockery it was a perfectly reasonable tantrum that was a long time coming now stop sulking your dick is very pretty let shixiong make it up to you~)
And at some point there will be a wild Bing-ge who appears to cause trouble with a mirror that’s intended to temporarily transform people into the form of their last life - he aims it at the native Bingbing to get him out of the way so he can steal the “nice” Shizun
It would have been Pom time for Bingbing but Mads-Jiu pushes him out of the way
And cue giant explosion of dark Qi as a bonus expansion pack of Madara’s 10-tail Jinchuriki time with powers-and-memories gets downloaded into Mads-Jiu
Mads-Jiu the “Heavenly Demon Demi God” drops several mountains worth of flaming meteor rock on the invaders and then goes on a giant flaming skeleton rampage against Bing-ge
... Bing-ge has changed his mind he doesn’t want this Shizun take him back and oh gods the shrieking
How does he shriek so loud? Doesn’t he need to breathe?
... ok so Shizun breathes fire that’s good to know
Whelps time to bravely run away
And then the amassed sects need to figure out how to calm down the rampaging hell beast
The youngest Qing Jing disciple is brought out and told to cry for Shizun
Actually-a-broody-hen!Mads-Jiu whips around and starts fussing over his baby student
Because baby why are you crying stop it tell Shizun who hurt you and he will BURN THEM TO ASH
The last bit I have an idea for involves Mads-Jiu getting yanked though dimensions because Edo Tensei where he instantly twigs to what is going on and pushes the “righteous cultivator” skin to maximum strength
He shoves all the baby ninja behind him and keeps barrier spamming the zombie army - because ew no stay away from the children resentful corpses
Zetsu is included in the zombie army shall not pass smack down
Zombie!Tobirama is appalled because wut? Wasn’t this supposed to be Madara’s zombie? What is happening?
And I dunno something where he “notices” the resentful energy surrounding Danzo because stealing the eyes of the people you murdered is bad karma
So Mads-Jiu does a spirit thing and the ghosts of the Uchiha rips Danzo apart while screaming about his guilt in full view of the entire Village
And then Mads-Jiu goes home because filial little Bingbing came to get him and he’s not enjoying upending the shinobi social order nope not at all whom exactly do you take him for?
... Yes he’s done and ready to go back to his spouses now he’s sure the ninja have all learned better than to raise living corpses now anyway
The end
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