#it had been a while and todays update made me wanna draw them again!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

woafofbread · 2 years ago

Note

Hey so I noticed it has been a while since you updated the klance hanahaki comic. Are you planning on continuing it? Because I really like it and I wanna know what happens.

I'm so sorry it's been literal years and I'm going to use this ask to dump all the sketches I did cuz I really did have a lot of the parts planned out but I didn't have the motivation to line and color everything.

And sorry to anon if you don’t like klance anymore I know some people had conflicted feelings about them they would rather not be brought up again. Feel free to ignore this if that’s the case.

So here were all the pages I got done.

The scene below takes place before page 7 so it is Keith's first time coughing up flowers and the time where Hunk finds the flowers in the trash comes later.

Here is my translation because my handwriting is terrible

I made the lines of dialogue split up so if a person talks and keeps talking into the next panel I wrote their name again for the next line of dialogue if that makes sense.

Page 1:

Keith(internally): What am I doing here? (as he sits at Lance's family dinner table)

Lance: Pass the peas por favor

Veronica: So Keith, I'm not sure if I've told you but you are somewhat of a legend in the McClain household.

Keith: Really? Why?

Page 2:

Veronica: Lance talks about you all the time ever since you both went to the Garrison. It's crazy we haven't had you over cause it's kind of a family tradition.

Veronica: To bring significant others over.

Lance: What? No! *slams table*

*Lance’s family members in the background nodding their heads*

Veronica: C’mon Lance just admit it.

Lance: How many times do I have to tell you Keith is just a friend?

Page 3:

Keith: Sorry Veronica. Lance is right.

Keith: Lance wouldn’t date me if I was the last person in space.

Keith: Now if you’ll excuse me-

Keith: Where’s the bathroom?

Veronica: It’s over there to your right.

Page 4:

(Keith in the bathroom)

Keith: After all these years why do I feel like this?

Keith: *cough*

Keith: What the? *sees flowers in the sink*

And you can ignore the last frame because I didn’t want to use it. But it’s basically Keith’s monologue about the situation. Here’s my best translation.

Keith: I accepted a long time ago that Lance wouldn’t love me but I still have feelings for him. You know how lance is. If he found out he would try to love me back for my sake and I don’t want him to do that. If I forget him then he won't have me to be there for him. He was there for me and I have to return the favor. That’s why I can’t do- (and that’s all I wrote)

This next scene comes after page 9 and Shiro confronts Keith about the flowers

The group scenes here were something I was pretty intimidated to draw so a lot of them are just circles.

Page 1:

Shiro: Are you feeling okay Keith?

Keith: Uh yeah I’m fine

Shiro: I know when you’re not fine Keith. I think it would be a good idea for you to stay away from Lance while we figure this out.

Keith: Shiro! He’s my friend you can’t just tell me to avoid him!

Shiro: I’m telling you for your safety. I’m sure Lance would want you to be safe too.

Page 2:

Keith: Fine

Shiro: Don’t worry, it’s just until we sort this out.

Keith: Yeah okay.

(Shiro tells him to stay away from Lance because he knows that if Lance finds out and doesn’t feel the same Keith will die. Also any time Keith feels rejected by Lance the flowers will get worse. And if Shiro tells Lance to stay away he’ll ask questions and he would most likely do something impulsive.)

Next scene: (It’s a group scene ironically with Lance in it so Keith tries to stay away but it doesn’t work so well)

Lance: Hey Keith!

Keith(shortly): Hey Lance. *avoiding eye contact*

Lance: Uh okay then... Do you know what today’s meeting is about?

Shiro: It’s about Keith’s condition.

(Inserted from other page) Lance: So Keithy’s in love with somebody after all.

Keith: Shut it.

Shiro: We need to find a way to remove the plants and we need help from all of you to do it.

Page 3:

Shiro: Pidge you’re in charge of finding a way to safely remove the flowers.

Pidge: Got it.

Shiro: Hunk you’re in charge of making sure Keith gets plenty of rest.

Hunk: Got it!

Keith: I don’t need a babysitter Shiro.

Lance: What about me Shiro?

Shiro: Oh uh Lance you’re-

Keith: In charge of staying as far away from me as possible.

Lance: *wtf Keith*

Shiro: No you’ll be in charge of getting the supplies Pidge needs. You’ll be with me.

End Scene

(Keith might seem a little mean in this scene but it’s mostly cause he’s salty he was just told to avoid lance and then Shiro calls a team meeting to tell everyone his condition with Lance there. He doesn’t want Lance to find out so he acts cold towards him kind of like how they were in season ones but Lance is confused because he though their relationship was better. And Kieth’s coldness affects Lance’s perspective later in the story.)

So moving forward things might seem a little disjointed because I hadn’t figured out how to get each scene to flow into each other. I just had a bunch of scenes and wasn’t sure how they would fit. It was a big part of why I hadn’t posted the story. I’ll try my best to piece them together in a way that fits.

This next scene is brief but Lance basically runs into Keith in the hallway.

Page 1:

Lance: Keith?

Lance: You alright?

Keith: Yeah I’m- *almost faints and falls into Lance’s arms*

Keith: I’m fine I’m fine

Lance: Yeah clearly you’re not. I’m taking you to the med bay.

Keith: *starts aggressively coughing up flowers*

Page 2:

Lance: Keith! Are you okay? (I cut it out because its repetitive and I think they were meant to be two different scenes but I combined them)

Keith: *Shoves Lance away*

Lance: Keith what-

Keith: Lance I need you to leave me alone for a while.

Keith: *Leaves* and leaves a very worried Lance behind.

End Scene

After Lance see Keith in so much pain Lance wants to find the one who is causing it. Also Lance wants to know who Keith fell for in general. Hence this next scene.

Page 1:

Lance: I’ve decided! I’m gonna find out who Keith likes.

Pidge: And you’re telling me this why, Lance?

Lance: Because you’re the only one around Pidge. You should know this by now.

Pidge: Now I see why I didn’t miss living with you. (I should probably mention this is post season 8 and they are back traveling together in space for the most part other than the visit to earth. They come and go as they please and still go on missions together :D )

Pidge: Why do you care so much anyways??

Lance: It’s just really surprising that Keith’s in love with anyone. He’s not a really lovey-dovey guy so I want to find out who won his heart you know?

Lance: *starts to leave the room*

Pidge (under her breath): Lance we both know why you really want to know so much.

End scene

And I really don’t remember how Lance’s “yeah I know” fits into the conversation. It could have in response to Pidge’s comment about why he wants to know but I’m not sure so interpret it how you like.

Page 2:

Lance(Alone in his bedroom holding one of Keith's hanahaki petals in his hand): Is it selfish to wish that it was me?

(Little does Lance know...)

This scene is Pidge the next day doing her part in the mission to save Keith- observing the petals that Keith coughed out

I put in stars because I changed the dialogue around after I decided to add a scene with Shiro telling Keith to stay away and I wanted it to be before this scene. So I will just write what I meant to change the dialogue to.

Pidge: This petal is definitely from the spores you breathed in.

Keith: What have you got Pidge?

Pidge: It looks like the petals flowers have taken root in your lungs and are growing. (she would have taken some sort of x-ray to be able to see that)

Keith: How do I make them stop?

Pidge: The best way would be to avoid whoever is causing one sided love for you so Lance.

(I wanted to add Keith being slightly surprised that she knew here)

Keith: Shiro already told me to do that. It’s still gotten worse and Lance has started to notice.

Pidge: You could just confess to him.

Keith: *no response*

Pidge: Yeah figured as much. Well then you’re gonna have to wait until I find a safe way to remove them then.

Keith: I’m counting on you Pidge.

Pidge: Don’t worry, I’m the one who put you in this mess and I’ll be the one to get you out.

(Pidge feels guilty for know knowing that the flower was this dangerous and is doing her best to help fix her mistake.)

Meanwhile the next scene is Shiro and Lance on their mission on a plant filled planet to find some plants that might work as a cure to Keith's hanahaki.

Lance: Shiro, can I ask you something?

Shiro: Of course Lance what is it?

Lance: It’s just that Keith has been really distant towards me lately.

Shiro(internally): Shoot he noticed.

Lance: I don’t know if I did something wrong or if he’s just stressed or-

Shiro: Lance if there’s one thing I’ve learned from knowing Keith all these years it’s that you can’t read Keith’s mind when somethings bothering him.

Shiro: If you think you did something wrong then just apologize first. He’s probably not even mad at you to begin with. Things will work out.

Lance: Thanks Shiro.

Shiro: No problem Lance.

End Scene

Meanwhile Back on the ship Hunk and Keith chat.

Hunk: It’s Lance isn’t it?

Keith: Hunk I swear to god if you tell him-

Hunk: I won’t dude don’t worry.

Keith: How did you know?

Hunk: Process of elimination mostly. And you don’t seem like the type to fall in love with a random alien. You’d have to be close to them.

Hunk: And I know you really care about him so...

Keith: I do.

End Scene

Lance is back from the mission and Keith really tries his best to avoid Lance but he is persistent. And he takes Shiro’s advice to heart.

Page 1:

Lance runs into Keith in the hallway and they stare at each other for a moment and then Keith tries to run away.

Lance: Keith, wait!

Lance: You can’t hide from me this time mullet.

Page 2:

Lance: I figured out why you’re avoiding me.

Keith: And why’s that Lance?

Lance: It’s because I’m the one who made the pollen spring up into your face.

Keith: Why would you think that?

Lance: You're not denying it.

Lance: Seriously, listen Keith, I’m really sorry. It was stupid of me and I didn’t do it intentionally.

Keith: You’re not stupid Lance.

Keith: And I promise this isn’t your fault. It’s just something I need to work out on my own.

Keith(gets up): Thanks for worrying though.

Keith: Bye Lance.

Lance: Yeah... See ya.

Lance: I really hope everything's okay.

Keith(in the other room): *coughing up flowers*

End Scene

After this conversation the Hanahaki will start to get worse.

Now we get to Hunk carrying out his mission- making sure Keith is okay.

Keith: What do you want Hunk?

Hunk: To talk.

Keith: I care about Lance so much I can barely share the same room with him. Not really a topic I want to talk about.

Hunk: Fine then.

Hunk: I’ll be here to listen.

Keith: Thanks Hunk.

Hunk: No problem buddy.

End scene

I really liked Keith and Hunks friendship in season 7 and I feel it is very underrated and not talked about.

This scene comes a bit later as the hanahaki continues to progress. And Keith takes up Hunk’s offer to talk.

The first two drawings are not included in this scene (this page was one of the first things I had drawn for this story idea) but they say:

Keith: There’s nothing you can do to help me Lance.

Keith(internally): It’s not like you could every feel the same way about me.

Scene with Hunk start

Hunk: Why don’t you just confess to him?

Keith: For the same reason I try to comfort him about Allura. I want him to be happy. Either way I know he’ll never feel the same way about me.

End scene

This scene is after Pidge checks up on how the flowers are and sees they have gotten much worse. Pidge confronts Keith but he is stubborn.

Page 1:

Pidge: If you don’t get those flowers out at the rate they’re growing you're going to suffocate on them within the week.

Keith: well then it’s a good thing I have you as my doctor right?

Pidge: Keith this isn't some joke! Your life is at stake!

Page 2:

Pidge: You have to confess to him.

Keith: I can’t do that.

Pidge: Why not?

Keith: ...

Pidge: Are you seriously saying you’d rather die than tell him you’ve been crushing on him since we first got out into space?!

Keith: Guess I am. *Leaves*

End Scene

(I tried to have Keith showing his self sacrificing tendencies here. :/ )

This next scene leads up to the ending and it its probably the longest. Pidge’s research did not amount to anything and the flowers are worsening at a rate that she can not come up with a cure in time. Keith is in very bad condition and starts coughing up blood along with his flowers.

Page 1:

Keith(under his breath): God I feel awful.

Lance: Hey Keith I see you’ve finally come out of your cave.

Lance: Keith you alright buddy?

Keith: *starts falling unconscious*

Lance: Keith!

Page 2:

(cut to Keith in Hospital bed)

Lance: I can’t believe this.

(Lance and Hunk talk to each other in the hallway outside his room)

Lance: He’s probably been suffering all this time and didn’t even bother to tell us.

Lance: He should know that he doesn’t have to do everything by himself! Whoever is doing this to Keith is going to have hell to pay.

Hunk: Good luck in hell then buddy.

Hunk(internally): Sh*t I should not have said that.

Page 3:

Lance: Hunk.... what do you mean by that?

Hunk: Keith made me swear not to tell you but given that he’s on his deathbed, and you're the only person that can save him I guess there’s no point in keeping it from you.

Hunk: Keith is in love with you.

Lance: *runs off*

Hunk: Lance!

Page 4:

Lance(next to asleep Keith in his hospital bed): Keith. Don’t you dare leave me.

Keith: *starts stirring*

Lance: Keith!

Keith: Lance? What’s wrong?

Lance: Why didn’t you tell me?

Keith: What are you talking about?

Lance: About how you have feelings for me.

Keith: How did-

Keith: *turns and glares at Hunk*

Hunk: Sorry bro

Page 5:

Lance: Well?!

Keith: ...I know assumed you’re straight so you didn’t need to know.

Keith: I knew you’d try and force it to save me.

Lance: Keith.

Lance: *kisses him* (with bad kissing drawing imo)

Lance: What made you think I wouldn’t like you back?

Page 6:

Keith: I love you.

Page 7:

Keith: Looks like I’m healed.

Lance: Oh thank god.

Lance: Love you mullet.

Keith: Love you too.

End Scene

Here’s a doddle of them being happy after all that angst.

Lance: I can’t believe it took me this long to braid your hair.

Keith: You never asked.

And that’s the whole story! I have some other klance comics in my sketches that I've never posted but they are not as in depth as fleshed out as this one was. I always wanted to finish it but this will have to do. I wanted to include more scenes with Lance to make it clear that he felt the same way about Keith but I feel like the scene with the petal makes that clear enough for now.

I’ve always looked up to klance artists like ikimaru and binart and erithel for having such amazing klance comics and they are still making Klance comics to to this day! I highly recommend all their works. I always wanted to have a perfect finished product of this comic but I have many other comics I want to work on now. I still love Klance though that’s for sure. I still doodle them every once and a while.

And here’s a current sketch I did at 2 am after writing most of this post.

Lance: Remember when you almost died because you were too scared to confess to me?

Keith: *sigh* You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?

Lance: Never ❤

#klance #vld #long post #extremely long post #I'm surprised I didn't get an image or word limit reached #keith #lance #keith x lance #v*ltron #The obliagatory- Klance in 2022??#my art

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checkingoutforheroes · 3 years ago

Text

B.A.B.Y PROTOCOL.

Part 1.

Avengers x fem!reader

Pt. 2

Genre: Minor angst, more fluff.

Warning: Language! (cursing here & there)

Words: 1746

Synopsis: This takes place in Avengers: Age of Ultron. When The Avengers were at the rock bottom, Nick Fury and advised by Maria Hill, to initiate the B.A.B.Y Protocol.

Main MASTERLIST

The Avengers gather in the lab after one of an ugly half made robot command a few of the Legionaries to attack them. Currently they are finding out about what or who attacked them. Some of them cleaning their wounds and Thor going out to track the Legionaries. Bruce the only one who starts first. “All of our work is gone. Ultron cleared out every research that we do. He uses internet as an escape route.” Natasha turns and lean her body to a table to say what she’s found. “He’s been in everything. Fails, surveillances. Probably know about us more than we know about each other.”

Holding his right wounded arm, Rhody said “He’s in the internet, he’s in your files. What if he decides to access to something a little more exciting?” By that, Maria has thought something. “Nuclear code.” Natasha looking at them “Nukes? He said he wanted us dead.” Steve interrupt her “He didn’t say dead. He said extinct.” “He said he killed somebody.” Clint said but Maria ask back. “But no one else in the building.” Their conversations cut by Tony. “Yes there was.” He displays JARVIS damaged simulator form and all went silent except Bruce, he checks on JARVIS.

Thor come in angry and straight to choke Tony. Being choke, Tony try talk to Thor “Come one. Use your words buddy.” Thor lift him up a few inch above the floor. “I have more than enough words with you Stark.” Steve walks closer, breaking them. “Thor. The Legionaries?” Thor update them about the Legionaries have the scepter and they have to retrieve it again. For the first time after the attack, Dr. Chow speaks. “You build this program. Why he’s trying to kill us?” Tony just laugh at that question and Bruce disagree. “Tony, this might not be the time to-“ Tony cut his sentences. “Really?! Bruce. We didn’t create a murder bot. Remember New York?” Everyone move their head down facing the floor remembering that event and Tony continue. “A hostile army of aliens charging through a hole in space. We’re standing 300 feet below it. We’re The Avengers. We can bust arms dealer all day but that up there, that’s, that’s the endgame. How do you guys planning on beating that?” Steve looking at him “Together.” “We’ll lose.” Tony say and Steve still with his answer “And we’ll do that together too.” He looks at everyone and gives the order. “Thor’s right. Ultron trying to draw us out. We start tonight. Do whatever you can to find him. The world is a big place, make it smaller.” Maria stand from her chair. “I’ll escort Dr. Chow to airport. I’ll see you guys in the afternoon.” They all nods and both of them walks out of the lab.

Next morning.

A young girl wearing her café’s uniform walking with a headphone on her head. While walking, she notices a guy snatches a bag from a lady. That lady screaming asking for help while her baby crying to see her mother in terror from across the street. You bring down your headphone and chase that guy. Thanks for your training, you almost keep up that guy until he stuck in an ally, nowhere to go.

“You wanna give me the bag or I’ll take it from you?” You said. Looks like he’s stuck.

“Fast legs.” He said.

“I had trained before.”

“I’m not a bad guy.”

“Well, good guys don’t snatch a bag from people especially in front of their baby! You gave me the wrong impression though. Now, give me the bag and go.”

“I’d like to see you take it.” “You asked for it dude.” You move forward and fight him hand to hand combat. Actually, you are a bit surprise by his technique. He’s not so bad but you have been train by a professional back in the academy.

You’ve been caught one day and some guy wear uniform took you somewhere. You thought it was a juvenile school because you are just 15 that time. Turns out it was S.H.I.E.L.D. They gave you test by test and found out that you good at combat and a little bit good at common sense. After you graduated, work job by job. Gang to gang. Mob to mob. You can’t do that kind of job anymore. You want to be good and yes, you did stop working with the dark. You washed your hands and works at Donut Do It. It’s not your vibe but it is fine for your fresh start. After you slap that guy, you hear a woman voice call your name that has been long unspoken by anyone including you.

“Baby.” A woman called.

“Normal people doesn’t know that name.” You said while choking that guy.

She said “Maybe because you’re not a normal girl.”

“What do you want Maria?” You ask that woman.

You immediately know who he is. Fury. “Oh God, not you too. Okay, for the record, honestly, I haven’t commit any crime that violated the laws.”

“You.” A deep voice man said.

You can hear Maria smirk when she asks you “Are you sure about that?” “…today. You didn’t let me finish. I didn’t commit any crime, today.” You said. Fury tell you to let that guy go and you look at that guy “You’re with them?” He tries to answer even you’re still choking him. “Y.. YE.. Yes!” You release him and slap him real hard right across his face. “That’s for wasting my time. Fuck off.”

Fury look disbelievingly at you. “Was that necessary?” You look back at him “What? Caressing lightly on his soft cheek?” Maria interject “That’s the opposite of what you did.” You try again just to tease her. “Okay. I, tap his soft cheek?” Maria raise an eyebrow at you “Try again.” You surrender. “Fine. I just 180-degree angle slapped him. He’s a trained agent for God sake. He’ll be fine.” You turn around about to walk back to your work place and Fury stop you.

“And where do you think you’re going young lady?” He asks you.

You turning back. “ Work. Turns out I have a job now papa bear. Thanks for the recommendation letter though. Now, will you excuse me, I have go to work. Hope to never see you two again. Babai.” Again, Fury stops you. “You are not going to that Donut Do It.” You tilt your head to him. “I told you I work there and I’m going. If you two want donut, you know where to find it. Mention my name and you’ll get 30% discounts.” Maria’s face changes when she talks this time. “This is serious and urgent, Baby.”

“We are gathering as many as best agents that we have, and you are one of the best, Baby. Come with us and we’ll brief you.” Fury said and you stop him from saying any further. “Look, I’m gonna stop you right here papa Bear. That is where you are wrong. Aren’t you guys seen my record? I know what good is but I’m far away from good. There is still red blood stain painted on my hands that I could never leave. Even if I wash it thousands time, it won’t come off. What makes you think I’ll do it?” You feel your left chest aching but you ignore it.

Maria answers you. “Because everyone deserves a chance to be and do good. To start over. Yes, you can’t wash that much blood on our hands but this is the chance for you to do something good in your life. A do-over. You actually do something good after the academy. Take out those mobsters down, those gangs. You went inside to get the intel and you burn them to the ground and made those cities safe. Then, you just proof us again just now by caught that robber.”

You huff and look down on your feet. “You set that up.”

Maria look at you. “But you didn’t know that. Yes, Baby. We’ve seen your record. Detail. You are far away from where you are before the academy. Or after. I mean you did killed people.” You crunch your eyebrows at her “Hey!” Fury turn to talk. “Help us this time. After that, it’s all up to you. We are no longer bugging you. You are no longer in our record. I’m not wasting my time coming here if we don’t need you.” “I thought you miss me.” Fury huff and talk to Maria “I’ll wait in the car.”

“He never begging. That kind of begging, what he did. Is it that bad?” I ask Maria and she nod with worry face. “Earth level threat. That’s all I can say right now. Come with us to tower and we tell you more.” You let out a long sigh. “Me? Out of all agents, me?” Maria walk closer to you. “Please Baby.” You’re now messing with her. “It Earth level threat and you want a baby to involve? What kind of adult are you? Put a cute baby in danger like that. Unbelievable.” She smiles more than earlier. “The kind of person that will make sure there will be chicken drumets and spaghetti carbonara every day for your meal.” You silently look at her and playfully sigh and she knows you better. “Caramel pudding and fluffy pillow too.” The ache in your chest getting hard to ignore now. You ask Maria some time and turn back from her. You bending, breathing like your doctor teach you and massage your chest a little. Must be from running earlier.

“Hey, are you okay?” Maria ask, worry if you are sick, but yes you are sick.

“Yeah. Just shock. Did you say fluffy pillow? You ask her, not wanting to let her know first. They need your help, that’s what you are going to do. Help as much as you can. She let out a giggles and wrap her arm around your neck. “Yeah, you are coming with us, like it or not.” You both walk toward their car where Fury is waiting. “How many pillow though?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for spending your time reading this. Feel free to reblog or ask me anything, thank you in advance!

Part 2 is coming!!

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linawritesfanficandmore · 2 years ago

Text

Before The Disaster

Summary:

Luffy wants a nest since they had a sunny day they agree So Brook joins the pack and this is also Zoro's recovery nest Zoro finally lies next to Luffy like he always wanted

Notes:

So sorry for the very late update I had the worst summer ever. I had my uni exam, my dad got surgery, enrolled in law school, my mom got surgery, had to move out, fix our house and my friend's mom died so I was with her past three weeks nearly so again sorry for the late chapter

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After talking to Zoro, Chopper wanted to talk to Sanji too, but no matter how hard he tried, the blonde just wouldn't approach. Finally, Sanji decided to put an end to it.

"Chopper? Can we talk?" "Yes, Sanji!" "Well, I understand that you are our doctor and it is your job to take care of us but I would like to figure this out by myself." "But Sanji-" "If it gets worse and I think I can't handle myself I will come to you. What do you think? Can we call this a deal?" "I don't know, Sanji..." "Then think about it like this what if someone in our crew would need you more but you were too busy with me to notice?" "I would never-" "Are you sure? I mean for the past few days you were like my tail." "I... Okay." "Thank you Chopper. I mean it." "But you will keep your promise!" "I will!" "Okay then. I'll look for Luffy." "Okay, bye Chopper." "Bye Sanji."

**** Luffy loved to play on sunny days but today wasn't one of those days because he had something different on his mind. Nest! So he went over to Brook, who had just joined the crew.

"Brook?" "Yes, Luffy-san?" "I want a nest for both of you and Zoro." "Oh... It has been such a long time since I have been in a nest but Luffy-san?" "Yeah?" "I am a skeleton so I can't form a bond with you guys." "Neither Chopper nor Franky but it didn't stop them. It shouldn't stop you too." "You think so?" "Yeah. Wanna be in my pack?" "If you want me, gladly." "Good. We will have a nest then. For you and Zoro!" "I can't wait Luffy-san, yohohoho!"

**** Ever since Luffy announced that the nest will be done, Sanji has been looking to prepare enough food before leaving the kitchen. Since this was the first nest for the entire crew to join while at sea, Usopp and Franky were working on an alarm system and Zoro was helping them. Brook played a nice tune as Robin, Nami, Chopper, and Luffy arranged the nest their way. Everyone was in good mood. After all the preparations are done, Luffy:

"Nami?" "Yeah?" "Can you draw on Brook the same way you drew Franky and Chopper?" "I did it before you even asked, Luffy." "She's right, Luffy-san. Look!"

Brook pointed to the mark on his arm bone.

"Brook is one of us now Luffy."

Luffy laughed and decided to go to the kitchen. When he got to the kitchen, just as he was about to pop the food on the table into his mouth, Sanji slapped his hand.

"You should wait for Nest, Luffy." "Pff..." "Don't pout me. I've done so much for Nest. I can't let you ruin it. Now help me carry them to the nest." "Okaaaay..." "And no food along the way." "Even one?" "Not even one."

**** Zoro finally got his aim. He was lying on Luffy's left. Sanji is also behind him. Behind Sanji was Usopp. On the other side of Luffy was Nami. Next to Nami were Chopper and Robin. Even though Franky and Brook didn't join the bed, they made their presence felt in the room. Everything was just as Luffy wanted. He felt safe. He was not alone. He had a huge pack. It's a perfect pack. They would never, ever leave him. Together they would beat the world and achieve their dreams. Luffy would be the king of pirates, and Zoro would be the best swordsman. Sanji would find All Blue, Nami would draw a map of the world. Robin was going to find the Rio and reveal the hidden history. Chopper would be a doctor who could cure any disease. Franky would travel the world in his dreamship and Brook would see his friend Lagoon again and they would stay together. Absolutely nothing could spoil it. Nothing...

**** At Sabody...

Notes:

It became a short chapter sorry about that too but Sabody will have a long one so bear with this

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years ago

Text

FATWS One Shot #7 - Revels

Word Count: 2921

Warnings: Cursing, That’s All, it’s a Really Tame One Shot

Setting/Characters: Party Scene in Avengers: Age of Ultron; Lots of Characters so I’m Not Gonna Name Them All

A/N: I know…it’s very late. I wanted to have it out on Friday, but I dunno, guys. My motivation as of late has been very low. I finally decided to just sit down and write tonight. So here it finally is!

This one is pretty mild compared to others. There’s a few feeling things in here, but it’s mainly just the reader hanging out with the team. The ending’s written a bit weird, but I didn’t know what to cut it off because the writers did a nice job of making the Mjolnir scene flow into the scene with Ultron’s appearance, but I didn’t want to write the whole fight with Ultron, I just wanted the lifting scene.

Listen here, though! Prepare yourselves to be conflicted even more with Steve! I made it a lot more…touchy than I was planning on. Don’t come at me! It needs to be done! This’ll be one of the last ones focused on Steve like that though. The next one is reader and Wanda bonding and then after that I don’t have any more planned for AoU, so we’ll be going to Civil War, which is where reader meets Bucky officially. So Bucky’s coming soon!

I’m gonna update my WIP List and - maybe - my One Shot list and post those later, along with a poll because I dunno which series I wanna start on next.

Thank you all so much for your patience, understanding, and support! As always, not beta’d, so please excuse the mistakes, all are mine! Be kind to yourselves and others! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Series Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

*******

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

You set your bag down and looked at your phone, vibrating from where you just left it on the counter. You looked at the time and squinted. Seven. You supposed it wasn’t too late, but you weren’t expecting any calls.

Tired, your feet dragged as you moved across the room to get your phone. You were helping Fury set up the Helicarrier again while still remaining “dead” to everyone. It was the last thing you were doing before joining the Avengers full time. You were a bit hesitant to be in the spotlight after all these years, but after much pressuring from your team, especially a certain blonde, you finally caved. It was time for a change anyways. It might even be good for you.

Speaking of blondes, Bubba flashed across your screen, a picture of him with some scruff that you took one day in spite of his protests because you’d never seen him with a beard before lighting up behind the contact name.

You answered it, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hands as you did so. “Hi, bubs. What’s-”

“Where are you? I miss you. Are you coming soon?”

You chuckled at his whines, an eyebrow raising as you processed his words. “Whaddya mean? I’m at my place. Where am I supposed to be?”

“Honey!” You giggled at his groan, finding it amusing how childish he could be at times. “The party? Tonight? Remember? You promised you’d come. I don’t wanna be here without you.”

“Oh shit,” you hiss out. “That’s tonight?” Moving across the kitchen to check your calendar, you scrunch up your face when you see ‘Avenger’s Tower 6 pm’ written in the square. “It’s Saturday. Aw, Stevie. I totally forgot.”

“Oh. So…are you - are you not coming, then?”

Frowning at his fallen tone, you shake your head. “I’ll be there. Just…give me a bit.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You sound tired. You don’t have to-”

“I’m on my way, Steve. I did promise after all. I’m an hour out.”

You could hear his surprise in his voice. “An hour? You’re not in D.C.?”

“I’m a little bit upstate. Just in a safehouse while I help Fury work on something.”

He let out a contemplative hum from the other side of the line. “That secret project you still won’t tell me anything about?”

A smile appeared across your lips as you walked to the bedroom to change into something a little more appropriate, settling for a comfortable romper instead of dealing with a dress. “You know I can’t, bubs. You haven’t told anyone, right?”

“No ma’am.”

You giggle softly. “Alright. Thank you. You’ll find out soon, probably. It’s almost done. Promise.”

“Then you’ll come live here? With me - the team, I mean? I miss you. The team missed you. On the raid.”

“Oh yeah. How was it?”

“Get here and I’ll tell you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m coming, I’m coming. See you then, bubba.”

“Okay, honey. See ya then.”

*****************

It was nearly nine when you got to the Tower, but any party thrown by Stark didn’t end until at least ten, so you knew you were fine. Just…fashionably late. A concept you knew Tony understood and you wouldn’t hesitate to remind him if he brought it up.

You were pleasantly surprised by how tame the party was. Sure there were a hundred people you doubted even Tony knew, but no flashing lights, the music wasn’t blaring, and no one was grinding on anyone. Everyone was just talking, drinking, and having a good time.

“Hey! There you are! Capsicle said he called you, but that was hours ago!”

Speak of the devil. You grinned and let Tony pull you into a hug before taking the drink he offered. “Yeah, well, I had a few things to do today.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “A few things, huh? Anything I should know about?”

“Nope!” You popped your lips and gave him a smirk. “Not everything’s about you, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, well, we missed you this week. Fun raid.” He looked you up and down and nodded, gesturing to your outfit. “Alright, you know what? I accept this. This is okay. Not what I had in mind, but you pull it off.”

You laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “It’s comfortable, okay? Where’s Steve?”

The billionaire rolled his eyes and gave you a look. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. He’s over playing pool with Wilson. C’mon! I wanna get you drunk and complain about my perfect, heroic, billionaire life to my favorite teammate!”

“I just need to tell him I’m here.” You snicker. “And don’t let anyone here you say that. I don’t want my rep to become Tony’s favorite.”

He chuckled with you and gave you another squeeze. “Alright, alright. Come find me later, though. I do have something I need to show you.”

You shook your head, already knowing where the conversation was heading. “Tony! No! I don’t need a suit! Thank you, I appreciate it, but I’m really okay. I like fighting in sweatpants.”

“Fine!” He huffed out. “But at least let me show you some designs I came up with. I put a lot of hard work into them, you know.”

Tapping his chest, you nodded. “I’m sure you did. I’ll come find you and you can show me, but that’s it.”

He smirked, drawing an ‘x’ over his heart with his finger. “Cross my heart.”

“I’m serious, Tony!” You point at him as he started walking away. He just blew a kiss towards you, making you laugh and roll your eyes again.

Turning, you scanned the room for the pool table where, supposedly, Steve was playing with Sam, who you had no idea was gonna be here. You’d been helping him out with the whole James - Bucky, you reminded yourself - Barnes thing during your free time. No such luck yet. The man was literally a ghost, even for you.

You couldn’t stop the smile on your lips when you finally caught sight of him, his brown leather jacket hugging his shoulders a grin on his face as Sam talked to him about something. Quickly making your way over, your arms wrapped around that ridiculously tiny waist, crossing over his stomach. You felt him tense at the sudden contact, before he relaxed at a kiss to the nape of his neck and spun around.

The beam he gave you made your heart flip, his muscled arms winding around your neck. “Y/N! You made it!”

His boyish excitement made you laugh. “I told you I’d come. Hi, Sam.”

Sam nodded and waved. “What’s good, Y/N?”

“Who’s winning?” Slipping out of Steve’s hold, you leaned over the table to study the games process.

“We just started a new one.” Steve informed you. “Wanna join?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure you wanna be embarrassed in front of all these nice people?”

“Oooh!” Sam winced. “Smack! Alright. Put your money where your mouth is, Y/L/N. Ten bucks says I win.”

“You’re on, Wilson.”

A few more drinks, a couple games, and thirty extra bucks later, Tony called you over impatiently. Steve gave you a questioning look as you heated up, Tony waving his arms dramatically and shouting your name. God, he’s so embarrassing.

“He wants me to look at suit designs.”

Steve frowned at your explanation. “I thought you told him no?”

You chuckled. “I did. I’ll be right back, bubs.” After kissing his cheek, you head over to Tony. From there, you end up bouncing around from teammate to teammate, laughing and joking around with them.

Until Steve dragged you back with him again. “Excuse me.” He interrupted you, Clint, and Natasha’s chatter, grabbing your elbow and taking the drink you had in your hand. “I’m stealing you.”

“C’mon, man! It’s called sharing!”

Natasha laughed and nodded in agreement with Clint’s statement. “Everyone’s gotta have a turn, Rogers.”

Steve hummed, walking backwards and pulling you as you giggled in amusement. “You just had your turn, Romanoff.”

“Sorry guys.” You shrugged when the two looked at you incredulously. “Captain’s orders.”

“Damn right.” Steve nodded firmly.

“Watch your language!” Clint shouted with a pointed finger.

You raised an amused eyebrow at Steve’s groan. “Your language? They do know that you have, quite possibly, the worst mouth on the planet, right?”

He sighed, pulling you to the side of the room and wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s something that happened on the mission. Which you would know if you were there.”

“Steven.”

He blinked innocently at you. “What?” At your pointed look, he let out a sigh, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you’re avoiding me?”

“Who said I’m avoiding you?”

“C’mon, honey.” He lifted his head, his eyebrows furrowed together. “Don’t hurt me even more. I know you have.”

You shook your head, lips turning down and hand raising to cup his cheek. “Stevie, I’m not. I promise. I’ve just…I’ve just been busy.”

He pouted. “With Fury?”

Giving him a weird look you shook your head. “No. I mean, yes, but I’ve also been helping Sam out with your friend while you help the team with the rest of the HYDRA bases. You know that. What’s going on with you?”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, ducking his head to your shoulder again. “I’ve just missed you.”

“I know, bubba. I’ve missed you too.”

The real truth was you had been avoiding him. Not on purpose. Kinda. You just felt something different around him. Something you’d never dealt with before. And you didn’t want to deal with it now, so you haven’t been. It was why you were so hesitant about becoming a full time Avenger. Well, that and the fact that you’d been in the shadows for a decade and you weren’t sure how well you’d do in the light.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He had to head home. Long drive. His excuse, not mine.”

You gasped in offense. “And he didn’t even say bye?! Rude!”

Steve chuckled, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat, breath tickling your collarbone. “I’m sure he’ll call you in the morning or something. Apologize for leaving so abruptly.”

You hummed, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat. “Tell me about the language thing. What happened?”

He groaned, but straightened and told you about him accidentally scolding Tony, before he proceeded to tell you about the rest of the mission, including the Maximoff twins.

“Why is it that war always seems to breed more war?” You asked with a sigh.

“They’re just kids trying to do what’s right.”

“We all start out that way, don’t we?” You shook your head. Kids. they shouldn’t be fighting in a war. They shouldn’t have to deal with that. “It’s just a shame.” Your voice is muffled by his shirt after you pressed against his chest.

“Yeah.” He sighed out. “Wanna go get a drink?”

Pulling back from him and looking around, you noted that most guests had already gone and it was dwindling down to just the Avengers and a couple allies. “Yeah. Wanna sit down too. I’m kinda tired.”

“Alright, honey. Let’s go sit down.”

It wasn’t even half an hour later when you were all sitting around the middle of the room, everyone else having gone, but Dr. Helen Cho, Rhodey, Maria, and the team. You were in the same boat as Helen, who was basically passed out on an armchair. You’re legs thrown over Steve’s lap, stretched out to let your feet rest on Thor’s thigh, who was on the chair on the other side of the captain. You were hugging Steve’s arm, your head resting against his shoulder, a small smile of content across your features as you listened to the team banter and tease.

You started laughing at Clint’s comments towards Thor’s hammer while spinning the drumstick he had for whatever reason. “Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power! Whatever, man! It’s a trick!”

You and Steve exchanged amused grins as Thor challenged Clint, who stood up with no hesitation and headed to the hammer.

“This is gonna be good.” You chirped, taking the bottle Steve handed you as the archer stopped in front of where it was placed on the table.

Clint stuck his tongue out at you, before turning back to Thor and gripping the handle. He tugged for a moment, grunting, before laughing in slight embarrassment. Chuckling, you snuggled closer to Steve’s side, your eyes feeling heavy. He turned his head to nose your temple and kiss your cheek.

“Oh brother.” You giggled, sitting up with interest as Tony stood up and unbuttoned his suit jacket.

“Alright, so if I lift it, I-I then rule Asgard?” Tony asked in clarification, slipping his hand through the strap.

“Yes, of course.” Thor confirmed with an amused smirk, shooting you a wink when you nudged his knee with your foot.

Tony braced himself, setting his foot on the table. “I will be reinstituting prima nocta.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Oh God, Tony.” Steve squeezed your knee with a slight chuckle as the billionaire tried lifting it to no avail. You gave him a weird look, watching him leave the room, before turning to Steve. “What’s he-?”

“Alright! Let’s try this again!”

Another fit of laughter left you and the team when Tony strutted back in with his Iron Man glove on. And when that didn’t work, Rhodey joined him with his War Machine glove.

Your eyes were watering and you tried holding in your laughter, but you couldn’t help it, pressing your face into Steve’s arm to muffle the sounds. You felt his shoulders shake with silent chuckles, which didn’t help your own.

When Bruce went up, an awkward silence filled the air after he tried Hulking out, but then you started laughing again.

“Your turn, bubba.” You nudged the blonde, who gave you a look, before shrugging and patting your thigh.

“You gotta get off then, honey.”

You rolled your eyes but swung your legs off him, letting him stand up. He rolled his sleeves up, stepping up to Mjolnir, a few encouragements from the team, before pulling on the hammer. You thought you saw it shake a little, but Steve yanked some more and it didn’t move, so you figured you were imagining it.

Steve sighed and let go, putting his hands up in surrender with a grin like the good sport he was. Thor laughed. “Nothing.”

You shrugged at the super soldier who plopped back down besides you as the others tried getting Natasha to go up. “You tried.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and leaning back. “Well if Romanoff isn’t going…your turn.”

“Wh-what?” Your eyes went wide.

“I did it.” He gestured to the hammer. “Now you gotta.”

“Hold on, hold on. We didn’t agree on th-”

“Honey.” He gave you a little pout, cocking his head to the hammer. “C’mon. Just a tug.”

You narrowed your eyes, but your lips turned up and you straightened off the couch. “This is peer pressure. Captain America, everyone.” He chuckled as you stepped over to Mjolnir. “It’s not gonna work.”

Tony snorted. “Not with that attitude.”

“C’mon, Tones. If none of you could.”

The billionaire shrugged with a grin. “Never know if you don’t try.”

You deadpanned at him, gripping the handle and trying, in vain, to pull it. You didn’t put nearly as much effort as everyone else. “Wow. Look at that. What a surprise.”

“What was that?! You barely touched it!”

Giving a shrug, you started back to your seat. “I’m guessing if you’re worthy or whatever, it wouldn’t take that much to lift it.” You fell onto the couch, your head landing in Steve’s lap as you looked upside down at Thor and pointed at him. “But I do have a question for you.” The god looked at you in interest, gesturing for you to continue. “What does worthy mean? Like, what makes a person worthy to lift it? You couldn’t lift it a while back - I know, I read the files. SHIELD agent, remember?” You added when you saw him open his mouth to question you.

You blinked at him curiously, tilting your head, watching as his brow furrowed. Tony cackled and clapped at the silence in answer. “Oooh! She got you! All difference to the Man Who Wouldn’t Be King, but it’s rigged. And the lack of response to Y/N’s question just makes it more obvious.”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“You bet your ass.”

You rolled your eyes, letting it go as Maria teased Steve about Clint’s foul language. “Did you tell everyone about that?” Tony ignored Steve’s question and continued to ride on Thor and his hammer.

“Why are they trying to make sense of it?” You questioned, highly entertained, but also very tired, turning to press against Steve’s stomach.

“It’s Tony. I couldn’t tell you. C’mere.” Steve shifted you so that you were sitting up, but he was holding you more comfortably. “Try getting some sleep.”

You hummed and nodded against him, but a high pitched whine made you wince and stand up, Steve unconsciously standing a bit in front of you. A suit of Tony’s, damaged with wires hanging down and oil leaking out or places that didn’t have metal keeping them in, came in and you inwardly sighed at the bad feeling tugging at your gut.

So much for sleep.

***********

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juminsmysticmc · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, it’s me, the one who request the moth headcanon, sorry about the trouble and if it’s okay, instead I would like to see an MC who’s major is digital arts and animation. If not, it’s fine, just have a great day.

RFA + Minor Trio with a Mc who's major is digital arts and animations

Hey! It was no trouble at all! I hope that it’s okay for you tho, I am happy that you could request something different! I hope you enjoy this one too! Have a nice day!

Jumin

Your husband observed you. Ever since he installed a room for you alone in his penthouse, you could finally work from home a bit more.

He hadn’t realized that even before you came into the RFA, he had already worked with you.

Your major, digital arts and animation, was often used for his advertising or other programs.

You often wanted to meet the CEO, but since he always thought that you would be just a gold digger, he always rejected you, just making Jaehee send emails with the things he wanted to have inserted.

Well, today he regretted his choice back then.

Instead, he observed you.

You were working on a new project.

,,How many years did you have to study? I mean, you have so many majors… Design Director, Storyboard Director, I didn’t know, you were multitalented, my love,’’ he praised you.

You even worked a lot with the audio.

You looked up and smiled at your husband.

,,Thank you, my love. I’m trying to make your latest project work. Wanna see?’’ you asked him.

However he knew that your work would be amazing and wanted to have it be a surprise rather than get spoiled.

Zen

Your boyfriend never understood how you could be such a good multitasker.

You could cook, set the table, chat with Jaehee, and even post something on your blog.

But once he saw you at work, he understood.

It had something to do with your job.

You had to work in different kinds of media at the same time.

,,This isn’t just one,’’ you told him and scrolled through your phone.

Your long hair was in your way so you put it away with one hand.

,,I have to work with the sound, video, and stop-motion graphics at the same time. I do this and much more, but I don’t want to annoy you,’’ you laughed as you looked up.

,,You don’t annoy me, Mrs. Director,’’ he laughed and kissed you.

You were even the director of a whole section and helped new students get into the job.

,,Okay, so, see this video?’’ you showed him an animated movie you just got via email.

,,This was made by my students, but she used the wrong program because the audio is slightly separated from the video itself,’’ you told him.

He hadn’t noticed anything at first, but after you told him, he saw it too.

,,And you noticed after a few seconds? You’re amazing!’’ he smiled and looked over your shoulders. You were still cooking.

Yoosung

Your husband wondered why he never saw you or met you since your college wasn’t that far away from his building.

But thank God both of you finally met thanks to the RFA.

He was also amazed by you because you were pretty famous among students.

You even had your own blog and of course you programmed everything yourself.

It looked amazing.

You had every single section working in there, but your point was the digital arts and animation.

,,Did you really have to submit a portfolio to be admitted?’’ he asked you when he read your latest blog.

You nodded at him as you typed something on your keyboard.

,,Mhm, especially to bachelor of fine arts,’’ you told him.

He didn’t quite understand, but he still nodded.

,,I didn’t have to,’’ he mumbled.

,,That’s why it’s written on there. The little word ,,may’’ says that you possibly have to, but not always,’’ you told him, making him sulk.

,,I know what ,,may’’ means… ah, and tell me. What are the admission requirements?’’ he asked you.

You turned your head and looked at him.

,,Can you maybe read the whole post instead of just the keywords? You need to check on the page itself for the requirements. Every university does it differently,’’ you told him and closed the page.

,,Ah. I just wanted to test you,’’ he smiled and looked at you.

He looked so up to you. You always knew what the latest LOLOL update changed in the game. You were amazing...

Jaehee

,,What? You went to Harvard University?’’ Zen asked you. He didn’t know that he was in a group with such an intelligent person and you were even Jaehee’s girlfriend.

You nodded.

,,She’s also very creative. Did you see our advertisement? She did it herself. Pretty amazing, right?!’’ Jaehee said proudly, no one had ever seen her that excited.

You changed her.

You and Jaehee also often went to different festivals to check the latest innovations. It was something even Jaehee was interested in.

And thanks to you, she even understood a few things since you were very good at explaining things.

,,Should we buy this new keyboard? It fits much better than the one you have now in your studio,’’ she told you and admired the keyboard in front of you.

She looked up to you since you were such a hard worker as a owner of a coffee shop and even a designer of word advertisements and 2d animation.

Saeyoung

,,You make pretty good money, huh?’’ he asked you as he looked around.

Your studio just looked so aesthetically pleasing in the middle of Seoul.

You shrugged your shoulders as you kept typing something.

Then you took your pen between your fingers and began to draw something.

You were a storyboard artist.

Saeyoung, your finacé, loved to watch you.

He sometimes even helped you when a program stopped working.

,,Look, which one do you like more?’’ you asked him as you turned your screen towards him to show him a park.

,,Mh, I don’t know. What’s the story? LIke, this one looks cute as if you’re in a fairy tale, but this one looks more realistic,’’ he answered, making you turn the display again.

You nodded and stood up, taking your jacket and facing your fiancé. ,,We are going to the park now,’’ you said and pulled him by the hand.

That’s what he loved about you.

He, too, was someone who would simply do his work, but you wanted to give your best, even at that moment.

At the end of the day, you however, knew which one you would decide on and you were happy that Saeyoung opened your eyes.

Saeran

,,Mc! It’s so nice to see you here!’’ someone said and hugged you.

Saeran observed the person who was so happy to see you.

Both of you were in a foreign country and people still knew you?

You hugged the person who was apparently named Mira.

,,Saeran, this was my teacher, Mira,’’ you said and told Mira about your boyfriend.

She was so happy to see that you got a boyfriend.

,,Have fun here and go visit Josef! He will be happy to see you!’’ she said, meaning your other teacher.

You took Saeran and with him you walked through every department.

,,They try to motivate you to be creative, get started, start your own company, make your own shows, produce medical videos or animations, and they want you to learn things by doing,’’ you explained.

At some point, you arrived at a place that was lit by lights. Students had pencils in their hands and they began to draw something on their papers. This was something that amazed Saeran.

,,I thought it’s digital art,’’ he whispered.

You nodded. ,,They first try to make you get used to it. When you’re ready, you can move to the digital version,’’ you told him and observed the students.

It was a pretty good day and Saeran also enjoyed seeing you presentate something on a stage about your own work in South Korea.

He was proud of you.

Jihyun

Hand in hand, both of you walked into an institute to talk about digital art.

Jihyun also liked art a lot. However, he was a painter.

But your art was also something beautiful in his eyes.

He once tried it, but failed.

,,I remember back then, I also was unsure if digital art was real art, but after I saw it myself… I’m sorry I was like that back then… so don’t give up if people are the same here as in this art institute,’’ he told you.

You nodded.

Your goal was it to teach digital art in that institute and they first invited you to talk about it.

They first invited you in and then they were ready to listen to you.

,,Thank you for your words,’’ the older man said and nodded.

,,However, digital art is, itself, placed under the larger umbrella term new media art that doesn’t require any effort, Mrs. Kim. Digital art is not considered real art,’’ he said and closed his book with the notes.

,,Why did you invite my wife then?’’ Jihyun asked as you watched your dreams get crushed in front of your eyes.

No one dared to say anything. Were you just the laugh stock? Why did you even make the effort? You were ready to give up when Jihyun began to say something again. ,,I can understand you. At first we thought that digital art was easy. Why should we ask a teacher to teach us? I’m an artist myself and I thought like that too, but here too, just like the art with real pens and colors, you need to start with it gradually. I experienced it myself and I was surprised by how difficult it was. I beg you, try at least once to draw a forest in digital art,’’ Jihyun said, begging the person in front of him.

,,Very well, I have been an artist since my twenties and I am now sixty years old,’’ he laughed and took your tablet, ready to draw.

While he was drawing, you did the same on the second tablet and a bit later you all noticed the difference, making them all apologize to you.

,,I can’t thank you enough,’’ you sobbed as both of you walked out of the room, you overjoyed about the good news.

,,I told you not to give up on them. They were just like me,’’ he laughed and kissed your hand before you could both go and pick up Lucy at Jumin’s penthouse.

Vanderwood

When he first saw your room, not Rika’s, but your own home, he was kind of shocked to know that you were almost like Agent 707.

He quickly noticed that just like him, you loved your profession.

It was something that satisfied you immediately ever since you first learned how things worked.

Indeed, animation was attracting more and more people and you were one of them.

,,Back then, when we lived in Japan, we somehow won a sightseeing trip and I got to see the Ghibli studio. I think that that was the moment I fell in love with it,’’ you told him as he looked around.

,,And then? I mean, Japan is one of the best countries to study animation, right?’’ he asked you. Vanderwood was truly interested in it.

He wanted to know everything about you.

The brown haired man wanted to know what made your eyes shine so brightly and why you were so in love with your job.

,,Uhm, yeah. Spain is the best country to study animation, but I also expected it to be Japan. Back then and still today, living there was too expensive. My parents wanted to move back to Korea and so I went to Spain to study my dream,’’ you laughed.

,,I’m amazed. I expected you to go with your parents,’’ he laughed and observed you.

,,I was amazed by myself too, you know? It was a hard decision, but I never regretted what I did. I could fulfil my dream and it’s my life after all.

And knowing more languages is even better because there are so many more opportunities,’’ you laughed.

,,Please never lock the door in other languages like Agent 707,’’

You laughed at his comment. ,,I won’t… but maybe something animated?’’ you teased him.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

17.04.2021// 00:18 MEST

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dragon-of-dreams · 3 years ago

Text

Puzzling

My Masterlist

Part 5 to Cracking a Code

1; 2; 3; 4

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (fem)

Warnings: Swearing, gaslighting, stalking, aftermath of noncon, noncon touching, caregiving, but like by Steve, so not really, self-harm references (previous chapter, not premeditated), discussion of eating

Summary: Steve takes you home to “take care” of you.

A/n: I’m not super happy with this chapter… and maybe I’ll redo it sometime in the future, but I just wanted to give you an update. Sorry, that everything takes so long!

Word count: 2,300

The rest of the drive passed in a blur. Steve’s hand hardly left your thigh and you let him. You were so exhausted, you didn’t have the energy to fight him off anymore. You felt yourself retreating into your body, away from the reality of being groped in the fancy sports car of America’s bravest hero.

Steve helped you up the steps to your apartment. You’re entire body was shaking, leaving you on unsteady feet. If you didn’t know better you’d say you were coming down with a fever. But the reason for the shivers coursing through you was so much larger. Not something a few pills could fix. Steve gently led you into your home, almost as if he owned the place, deposited you on the couch, and covered you in a blanket. As he tucked you in, his hands respectful and his touch kind you surfaced for a brief second out of the hole of despair his comment in the car had put you in.

“There you are, angel.” Steve smiled as he noticed how your eyes started to focus a bit. “I’ll make you something to eat. I’ll be right back.” With that, he leaned in and placed the gentlest kiss on your forehead, before retreating to your kitchen. You watched him rummage around in the tiny space adjoining your living room. He looked at ease, at home, and oh so loving. Did yesterday really happen? you wondered. There they were again. Those thoughts you had to brandish all day yesterday as well. You started to stare off into the middle distance; once more slipping away from reality and the physical pain left in your body. You heard Steve tut slightly, the fridge door opening and closing, then the same sound from a bunch of your cabinet doors. Just as you wanted to call out to him, to ask if he needed help, a robotic response drilled into you by your mother, Steve appeared before you almost as if out of thin air. His gait as silent as any other predator’s.

“Darling,” he sounded concerned, “did you eat yet?”

You looked up at him, doe-eyed. “I.. uh… I must have. I have some overnight oats in the fridge, so if there are only three glasses in there, then yeah.” To be honest you couldn’t remember, nothing made sense.

“There’s four, darling… You really gotta eat breakfast! It’s important to keep your strength up, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah… I usually do. I promise” Why do I not wanna make him sad? Why do I want him to be proud of me? You thought bewildered, as you looked into Steve’s worried eyes before all semblance of structured thought left you again to the tide of confusion washing over you and pulling you under.

“Ok, babe, I trust you. I’ll make some now, okay? You just sit tight.” All you could do was nod. It was like it was all happening to someone else. You weren’t really here. You were so far away and so present at the same time that it hurt.

As Steve left you your mind went to war with itself.

Steve wasn’t a good guy. He wasn’t the hero on those posters, was he? But he was making you breakfast, he tucked you in. He sent Bucky to check on you. No… No, he sent Bucky to make sure you didn’t go to the police. Right? Right.

You could feel your mind shut off, drawing you down with it. All that happened, Steve’s non-linear behavior pushing you over the edge. Nothing made sense.

You barely noticed as Steve fed you breakfast, bite by bite, all that registered somewhere deep within you was his calm, deep guiding voice: “One more bite, there you go, good girl” all his encouragement mushing together in your brain, a soothing sensation flowing through your pain-addled brain.

After breakfast, you could feel Steve manipulate your body, as he wrapped himself around you and put on your favorite movie. As you lay there engulfed in the arms of this giant man, accompanied by the sounds of the movie you had watched a million times, you slowly started to become aware of yourself again. The body heat was so soothing and Steve’s deep humming voice pushed the fear that had kept you paralyzed further and further away. Making way for a seething rage, fickle but growing. As you tensed and readjusted your limbs Steve leaned forwards and kissed your temple. “I knew you were still in there, angel. I made some tea. It should still be hot. I put it in a thermos. Let’s talk okay?” Steve carefully helped you sit, every touch his, stoking the anger burning through you. Then, oblivious to the shift in your mood, he got up to grab the tea and cups as you looked around as if you were seeing your place for the first time. It no longer held the feeling of safety that comes with any good home. All you could see was Steve controlling you, in the TV that was slightly turned, the smell of his cologne on your couch, the dirty pans in the sink.

When Steve came back, your head was much clearer and you carefully reached for your cup and made sure to keep your distance from Steve as subtly as you could. Whatever was to come, was going to be important.

“You know darling, you will have to be nicer to Bucky. He’s only trying to help when I can’t be there. New York is dangerous, always has been. No one knows that better than me and Buck. He texted me, saying you were really rude on the train this morning, and quite frankly, darling, I’m disappointed that I even have to say this, but you have to appreciate what we do for you, okay?” Steve’s voice is calm, collected, and rational. There is nothing but honest concern in it for a moment it disrupts the anger building within you. “It’s time to play nice with Bucky now, okay? Be nice to him, maybe even as nice as you have been for me, understand?”

It’s the last sentence that sets you off, Steve’s expectant gaze, belittling you, that makes you blow your lid.

“What? What are you talking about? Play nice? I wasn’t being nice to you! I don’t want your protection or your attention, or Bucky’s for that matter!” Your voice is rising, as you grip your cup of tea so tight its heat sears your palms. “Get out of my life!” you yell. Then like a bucket of cold water realization sets in. Every muscle in Steve’s body tightens, you see his body expand with the change, looming over you, blacking out the window. You expect Steve to yell, beat you up, but when you dare to look up at his face, it is almost passive, but there is danger burning beneath his façade.

“I understand this is difficult for you.” Steve’s voice turns harder with every word. You notice the missing pet name like a slap to your face. “But I am getting pretty tired of this conversation. You need to rain in that attitude of yours, okay? Because I won’t tolerate you being a spoiled brat who doesn’t see what’s best for them. I’m looking out for you here, taking care of you, something you apparently struggle with,” with that Steve gestures at the remnants of your breakfast, the one he had to make for you, “and all I expect in return is some gratitude, towards me and towards Bucky. This is not up for discussion. And if you can’t behave, you’ll have to deal with the consequences, young lady. Is that understood?” By the end of his speech, Steve has risen to his feet, towering over you, his voice booming to fill your apartment, while you cower into the sofa. Your breathing is shallow and you are petrified. It feels too much like last night. When you didn’t have a choice either. And everything he was saying was making sense. New York was dangerous. And you really were terrible at feeding yourself correctly… Those oat thingies were just the newest thing you were trying in your never-ending quest to live more healthily… Usually, your job took preference over clean living. And Bucky hadn’t done anything to you either. He’d just been there to watch out for you… Steve, well… Steve really had done that, but he also held you today, when your brain shut down and made you food. He could have just left you at work, where you surely would’ve gotten nothing done or even caused trouble if you fucked up your work…

Shakily you nod and watch some of the tension leave Steve’s body and he crouches down in front of you. “Good, I knew you were smart like that. Now we can either go have a bath and soothe your body or you can freak out again and then I swear I’ll make you bear the consequences of your behavior for real this time. So what’s it gonna be, princess?”

You stare at him for a second. How is he so rational? Why does this all make sense? Authority has always been your weakness, and so you just nod because what the Captain says goes, and you learned that the hard way, and let Steve lead you to the bathroom. Maybe you will get to lay in his arms again and hear him praise you. It felt so good when he held you on the couch. You were safe in his arms. All you want is to be back in his embrace. Where the harsh reality can’t hurt you. So you allow Steve to strip you down, as hot water pours into your tub.

Suddenly Steve’s grip on your hip tightens painfully, as yanks your jeans off of you. You look down, scared, and find him staring at the bruises you must have caused yourself in the shower this morning when you were trying to wash the night away. “What is this? Explain, now!” he seethes and turns his scorching gaze towards you.

“I, when I showered, I, I just wanted to get clean…” you stammer.

“Clean? Clean! You hurt yourself! Jeez! How dare you do something like that to yourself? I really can’t let you out of my sight for one second, can I? Gotta watch you like a little kid!”

You feel a pang in your heart. You weren’t trying to be bad! You want to tell Steve, but he just turns off the water, grabs your upper arm, and drags you from the bathroom into your bedroom. As you stumble after him, you try to figure out what is happening.

“Steve?” you plead as he sits down on the bed and puts you over his lap.

“No, darling, not anymore. I have been way too kind to you so far, but apparently, the nice approach doesn’t work with you. So discipline is what you get.” He thunders, and then his hand is hitting your bum with enough force to make you scream. It happened so fast that your head is spinning.

As you lie across his lap everything felt like it’s wrapped in cotton. So much skin-to-skin contact fries your over-worked and touch-starved brain into submission as Steve’s hand is raining down on your ass, painting it crimson. You burst into tears without any control over yourself. “Steve,” you sob, “Steve please, I didn’t mean to, I swear, Steve!” and just as those words leave your mouth, he stops, picks you up, and hugs you close. Your nerve endings sing at the close contact and you sag into him, all tension leaving your body. His hands draw soothing circles on your back as he holds you tight.

“I got you baby.” Steve whispers as he settles you on the bed, “I know that hurt, but I needed you to see, you know?”

You cry and nod, burrowing into his hulking form hovering over you.

“I’ll make it better baby, I’ll make it all good, now,” Steve murmurs, as he leans in to kiss your forehead, while his right hand comes down and starts to play with your clit. “Oh darling, look at you! You’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Only then do you register the slick coating your thighs, embarrassed you want to turn from him, but Steve cages you in. “It’s okay babe, no reason to be shy about it. There is nothing wrong with wanting your man. Really, it just shows that you understand my discipline with you. I’m real proud of you, angel, real proud.” He mutters as he spreads your lips and slips two fingers in. You can’t help but moan and arch into him.

Steve is nothing but kind and soft with you as he readjusts both of your bodies until he sinks into your heat, and you both moan in unison. “There we go, darling. See how good I can be for you? There we go.” As he starts moving, slow and deep within you peace settles over you. “I’ll make you forget all that pain, babe, it’ll all be gone in just a minute now.” His fingers are rubbing circles around your clit while he keeps murmuring sweet encouragements into your ears as you climb and climb towards an orgasm that is so deep that it leaves you boneless in Steve’s arms until he finishes with a broken grunt deep inside of you. As Steve settles you in his arms after you can’t remember the last time you felt this sated, as you drift into a deep sleep with Steve’s spend slowly trickling out of you. For a split second, before you fall asleep the horror of what is happening to you is clear in your mind, but then, thankfully, once more your exhaustion pulls you under.

#marvel #dark!fic #dark fic #fic #fan fic #captain america #modern!au #Steve Rogers #dark!Steve Rogers #dark Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers x reader #dark Steve Rogers x reader

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vasiktomis · 3 years ago

Text

Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

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The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

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The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they’d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

#far cry 5 #john seed #cora stammos #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 oc #john seed x female deputy #all hail cora's big fucking muscles #no beta we die like men

43 notes · View notes

sytco · 4 years ago

Text

common blessings [joochan]

pairing: childhood friend!hong joochan x reader

word count: 3.5k (!)

requested: "toothrotting fluff ft. joochan"

dedicated to @sahiflowers.

a/n: im SO SO sorry this took so long and i hope u like it even a little and that it makes u smile thank u for being so patient ily!! ily!!! reminder im always here for u!!

In which you find that time is meaningless when Joochan is not by your side.

wonderboy.

Sometimes, you speculate whether Joochan has some kind of genius for finding you as soon as the school bell rings, signalling the end of another day.

Today, he surprises you behind the auditorium where you lean against a maple tree, hugging your bag to your chest, because you’ve skipped your last period (Introduction to Psychology) in favor of lying on the grass so you can watch the clouds in peace. And Joochan smiles a fond, fond smile because you have that look on your face again that you only get when you’re lost in thought.

“Missed me?”

You tense from shock before relaxing at the sight of your boyfriend who widens his arms so you can walk right into them.

“How’d you find me?” Your voice is muffled in the fabric of his vest and Joochan reaches up so he can play with the back of your collar.

“Just had a little hunch you might be here.” And this is the answer he always gives, accompanied with the same smug smile each time.

You pout even if Joochan can’t see it. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Well now,” he says in an affected voice that sounds like the narrator from that National Geographic documentary on penguins the two of you watched last week, “I can’t afford to have you getting your hands on all my secrets, can I? I’ve got to keep some things to myself so that in ten year's time, you’ll still think I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe.”

It’s ridiculous, you think, how it’s nearly winter but the way you can feel the laughter that starts in his chest and electrifies you to your fingertips is more than capable of keeping you warm and making you feel like you’re really alive.

“Doesn’t matter if I find out all your secrets or not,” you mumble, “you’ll always be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe to me.”

From the courtyard around the corner, you can hear Jaehyun shouting a loud “Oi Joochan!”.

Joochan ignores him and instead casually pecks your cheek with a kiss that feels like a blessing. “Always?”

You tilt your head as though unsure. "Well… for at least fifty years, probably.”

“Fifty?!” Joochan echoes in mock outrage, and you playfully poke his side to which he flinches slightly.

“I was lying. I meant for all of time ever.”

And despite him doing his best to hide it, your boyfriend melts instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck where he’s probably smiling his brilliant smile that feels like the sun against your skin.

Jaehyun’s voice interrupts the peace and quiet once again with a noticeably louder and more panicked tone.

“Hong Joochan! We’re going to be late for soccer practice!”

Joochan groans exaggeratedly and you can’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Wish I didn’t have to go to stupid practice,” he grumbles.

“You know, I’ll wait for you in the library until you’re done,” you offer and Joochan perks up - if only slightly because your arms still feel like heaven after years of loving you, and two hours of kicking a ball around (while Donghyun and Jibeom brainstorm inventive ways to trip each other up, much to Coach Lee’s chagrin) just can’t compete. He tells you as much in the way his arms tighten around you.

“You’re the best,” Joochan declares suddenly, “I might be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe, but you’re the best.”

You snort. “Go to practice already before Jaehyun starts going spare, wonderboy.”

Joochan kisses your forehead one last time before he detaches himself from you with a dejected sigh and picks up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder despite your protests. “Walk with me to the oval?”

You slip your hand into his hand only to find it a perfect fit and wonder briefly if there is anywhere in this world you would not walk to with Hong Joochan, the boy who has a smile like sunlight and a personality like a billion shooting stars.

“Of course.”

fm.

There is the occasional moment in which you wish that your boyfriend wasn’t so exceedingly talented in nearly every field he tries his hand at, because the various extracurriculars that Joochan (being the naturally energetic and enthusiastic person he is) involves himself with have an awful way of making tremendous demands on his time towards the end of the semester.

Right now is one of those moments when Joochan trudges into your room and dives face first onto your bed without even bothering to shake his coat off. “So what was it today?” you ask in a voice that betrays your concern and Joochan can’t help but smile at it.

“Theatre rehearsal,” he yawns, “then string quartet practice. Also an hour of soccer drills with some of the boys. Even though it’s a Saturday.”

You get up from your chair at the desk so you can sit on the bed where Joochan immediately moves his head onto your lap, lifting your hand and resting it on his hair. You absentmindedly start stroking it, staring out the window at a soft grey sky.

“Did you eat?”

Joochan shakes his head. “No time. My dumb E string broke again so I barely managed to have half an apple before we went straight into a new Mozart piece today. Think we might perform it at the next concert. You’d come, right?” And he asks that in a self-assured tone, because he already knows what your answer is going to be.

You give it to him anyway because there’s no point in hiding your blatant admiration for all that he does. “No matter what.”

“And just to see me, right?”

You fake a pause that has Joochan peering up at you suspiciously.

“You do know I have friends who aren’t you that are participating in the concert, right? Like Jangjun and Sungyoon?”

Joochan scowls. “But none of those hooligans are your boyfriend, who - in case you forgot but I do know you’d never - is me.”

“That’s quite true,” you concede before leaning down to kiss his cheek with a smile that makes Joochan’s stomach fill with butterflies which are probably colored pink and green and blue. It never gets old, he thinks: your talent for turning his world upside down in a look or a word or an action. And you don’t even know you’re doing it most of the time.

“Mean,” he accuses but in a half-hearted manner and your smile only widens because you know that Joochan is supremely happy despite his exhaustion, if the way his brow has smoothed completely and he has started drawing little stars on your knee is anything to go by.

There’s a gentle lull in the conversation while you continue to run your fingers through Joochan’s hair, and especially his fringe. It’s almost as though time has passed you by, leaving you together in your own little reality where things like hazy futures and big concerts and broken violin strings do not dare draw near.

“Wanna order something later on for dinner?” you ask quietly.

“Maybe,” he grins through closed eyes, “but nap first.”

Your radio continues to run, and you drift in and out of listening to the DJ duo while watching the rain finally fall outside.

“It’s been pretty cold recently, hasn’t it?” one of the DJs opens the conversation after a small stream of ads.

“Sure has, pal. And speaking of the cold, apparently our first snow of the season is scheduled for next week Friday!”

“So do you have any plans lined up with a special someone?”

“Just had to remind me of how single I am, didn’t you”- rambunctious peals of laughter crackle from the speakers - “but maybe some of our lovely listeners will send in their plans for next Friday.”

“I sure did - and wow, they’re already pouring in! Do you wanna read one out?”

“Let’s see… Listener ha_miii_ran says: ‘I’m planning on confessing to my crush of two years. I’m pretty nervous about this so I’m hoping the two of you will wish me luck!’ All the best of luck to you, Ha Miran-nim, from the both of us. I don’t know how you’re planning on it, but hopefully the first snow will act as a good luck charm for you!”

“Yeah, good luck Ha Miran-nim!” the other DJ chimes in. “Be sure to update us on how it goes!”

“Well, we’ll be back with some more stories after this excerpt from a famous piano concerto - maybe some of our more classically-inclined audience will recognise its globally renowned composer.”

A beautiful melody begins to play and you’re on the cusp of losing yourself in the music when you are most abruptly interrupted by a sleepy, but decisive, “Gershwin.”

You blink down at Joochan. “What?”

“It’s Gershwin. The composer. Don't you think your boyfriend's clever for knowing that?"

“I thought my boyfriend was asleep, actually,” and you narrow your eyes.

“I was,” Joochan protests, “I only woke up when they were talking about the snow or something. And then they talked about that person who’s confessing to their crush of two years - got me thinking about how I can relate because I vividly remember having a crush on you for at least three before I could muster up the courage to confess. Which ended up working out for the best, you know,” he adds in a thoughtful tone, “but sometimes I’d get so nervous just thinking about it that I couldn’t sleep at all. Anyways, I’m really hungry now, so can we order something soon please?”

Maybe it’s the way he so nonchalantly wears his heart for you on his sleeve, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you as though you have strung the Milky Way itself together and made a gift of it to him. Maybe it’s the way you simply realize that you might not be able to live with yourself if you were to lose your boyfriend, ever. But for whatever reason it is, a thousand smiles bloom in your heart and you lean down to give Joochan a kiss that hopefully tastes like everything you cannot possibly put into words.

“Anything you want,” you whisper, and Joochan draws a heart on your knee in response.

enchanted.

You’re outside the auditorium again but in front of it, this time, and not behind. The post-concert hubbub has died down, mostly owing to the fact that much of the audience has left already whether it’s to a late congratulatory supper or down to the boardwalk where fireworks are scheduled to go off at midnight. The bouquet of lily of the valleys in your hand trembles slightly as you use your other hand to fumble around for your ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“You’re waiting outside, right?” Joochan asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“See, Donghyun, I told you I was right about - wait. Wait! Don't move!”

And then you have less than two seconds to process exactly what is happening before your boyfriend catches you up in a running embrace that sends the world spinning in a flurry of snow and stars and kisses that Joochan plants all over your cheeks. He remains blissfully unaware that somewhere in the vicinity, Donghyun has started making gagging sounds at your very public display of affection, punctuated by Jaehyun’s giggling. (You pay them no mind.)

“Did you enjoy the concert?” he asks, fond expectation twinkling in his eyes.

You nod too much. “You were incredible,” you tell him honestly, and Joochan beams.

“I was, wasn’t I?” he says in a satisfied voice as he pulls you closer. “Guess all those hours of practice paid off.”

“It’s almost like that’s the whole point of practicing,” you tease.

“It’s lucky you’re cute and I’m hopelessly in love with you,” Joochan crinkles his nose in contrived distaste for your little jab before hugging you again so he can hear you whisper just how proud you are of him, right into his ear.

And the two of you stay like that for a little before you remember the gift you brought with you.

“For me?” And the look in his eyes reminds you of how he looked at you when you first told him that you loved him too - or maybe of every time you’ve told him that you love him too.

“Who else?”

He snaps up the bouquet, pressing it against his nose and inhaling deeply with a smile. "This is a nice surprise."

"They mean 'return to happiness'," you say, gently touching a little white bloom that looks like a star against the backdrop of Joochan's black school blazer. "Thought it was cute. And the florist was sold out of roses anyway."

Joochan laughs with the warmth of a thousand sunbeams and puts your hand in his so he can start gently tugging you away.

“But your violin”- you begin protesting.

“But nothing,” he shushes you as the school gets smaller and smaller behind you in the distance. “I don’t even want to see that thing for a week. Hey, and guess what - I found a secret place for just you and me so we can watch the fireworks without being pressed up against everyone else like sardines in a tin can.”

“You and I are going to watch the fireworks?” you echo, surprise colouring your voice.

Joochan’s exhale turns into a giggle. “Who else?” And you dig an elbow into his side, hiding a smile at his antics.

The two of you stroll down quiet streets and you lean into your boyfriend’s comforting warmth. Most shops are closed with the exception of some fast food chains and convenience stores, but you notice almost none of them now as Joochan picks up the pace, his excitement bleeding into the quiet song he sings that floats up in the air and is lost somewhere in the stars above.

“Here we are,” says Joochan proudly and he helps you up into the little gazebo at the top of the hill you hadn’t realized you were climbing. “Take this,” he adds as he tosses you a torch that brightly illuminates the space you’re in as soon as you switch it on. You turn to the rustling sounds on your left, finally seeing the wooden bench that Joochan is busy spreading a rug over.

“You planned this beforehand?” And there’s a note of wonder in your voice - the same kind that only Joochan ever seems to be able to evoke. “I thought we were going straight home.”

He gestures for you to sit next to him with a charming smile and you do so immediately. “Told you I can’t give up all the secrecy. Not yet.” Or, he thinks privately to himself, not when you look at him like that.

The golden light from the torch casts long shadows over the grass and gives Joochan’s face a nearly ethereal glow that reminds you of summer sunsets despite the cold. You slip into a soft and easy silence - one that comes from memories built upon memories, resulting in a code made up of gazes and touch that only the two of you will ever understand. And so when he squeezes your hand gently, you instantly open your arms for him to sink right into.

There’s only a few minutes left until midnight when you finally speak.

“Joochan,” you murmur.

“Mm?”

“You ever think about where we’ll be this time next year?”

Joochan shifts his posture slightly. “Often, actually. Especially when I go to sleep at night and think about tomorrow - then I’ll wonder if it’ll even remotely go the way I want it to.”

“And how do you usually want it to go?” you ask.

“Someone has a lot of questions today,” Joochan remarks with a droll look on his face that makes you laugh briefly before his expression sobers. “But usually I want it to go safely. You know? Everything in its proper place and things like that. And more importantly, I want to know all the time that I’ll be able to see you.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking out over the view of the city. If you squint, you can just make out the boardwalk by the beach and the crowds of people who have gathered there, young and old alike. “I’m scared sometimes.”

Joochan frowns. “Scared of what? I’ll fight it off for you,” and he waves a threatening fist at nothing in particular.

“The future, I guess. It sounds silly but… sometimes I don’t know if we’ll always be okay. Like this, the way things are right now. Whether it’s tomorrow or next year or even after that.” Your voice fades in volume until it’s nearly lost against the threads of your scarf, and Joochan’s heart breaks a little when he hears it: the genuine uncertainty and timid fear that seeps past the smile you give him in an effort to hide it.

“Why do you think we might not be okay?”

You look down at your feet, almost embarrassed by your own honesty. “Well, people… change, Joo. They move places, and have goals to achieve and dreams to chase down. And we’re not immune to that either.”

It’s Joochan’s turn to be silent for a bit as he mulls over your words before he straightens in your hold, turning his face towards you so he can affectionately bump his nose against yours. “You’re right,” he says in a voice that mirrors your sadness, “and it would be a lie to say I don’t think about the same things you do. But”- and he leans in to give you a quick kiss that’s shaped like a smile - “it’d also be a lie to say that every dream doesn’t feature you in it. Because every dream of mine that I’ve ever had places you centre stage.”

He kisses you again, a little longer - a little more wistfully.

“You see, the real problem here is that you have me perpetually thinking that I can’t do any of this without you,” he says simply. “Whether it’s late night phone calls or early morning messages; or maybe we’ll find ourselves having to book flights for each other, holding bags full of gifts that remind us of us. And maybe it’ll be hard and maybe I’ll wake up some days, knowing I won’t be able to see you. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be okay.”

You swallow and Joochan watches you carefully, the urgency in his eyes prompting him to lift your chin so you can see it too.

“Even if we change,” he continues in a whisper, hoping you will understand the heart in his words. “And we should. And we will, and we’ll still be okay. You believe me, don’t you? Seeing as I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe?”

Somewhere, midnight comes and goes and the fireworks start, dousing you and Joochan in bursts of coloured light.

“Of course I do,” you smile with eyes that glitter with tears of relief and he pulls you into a tight hug, so tight you can feel every movement of his rib cage as he breathes in and out.

For once, you do not feel that fear deep down that threatens to taint your time with the only boy you think you cannot live without. And so you unreservedly hold him in return, fingers running through his hair as he tells you that he loves you, over and over again.

up, up and away.

There had been a time during your childhood when your one greatest wish had been to go see the stars.

So your friend Joochan, in all his clumsy sincerity, had done his best to make you a rocket out of a box he’d found at home. He’d then brought it to your house after he’d finished it, blue marker staining his fingertips and glitter shaped like stars lost in his thick fringe.

The two of you had sat in it together and looked up at the moon, holding hands from childish innocence and recounting thrilling tales of adventures you’d never had. And before having to go home to bed that day, he’d made you a promise that present-day Joochan complains about not being able to fulfill.

“I know I said I’d take you to the stars,” Joochan sighs in displeasure from where he lies on your bed, right next to you, “but while your boyfriend is exceptionally talented, you do know I’m no astronaut, right?”

You hold his hand in response and look into his eyes that sparkle with mirth and deeper in, shine with a love that always gives you peace.

It may be that Joochan will never be able to keep his promise of taking you to space in a real, functioning rocket. But, as you drop a kiss on his mouth that soon widens into a brilliant smile, you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

After all, it’s hard to miss the stars when for you, they all start with Joochan and end with him.

if u liked this please consider dropping a like and reblogging with ur thoughts because feedback is!! always appreciated thank you!!!

#SCREAMS IT'S FINALLY DONE WITH I'M FINALLY FINISHED #golden child #golden child scenarios #golden child imagines #hong joochan #golden child hong joochan #golden child joochan #joochan #ju writes #gncd #golcha #im now off to go cry. or nap. both

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scullydubois · 4 years ago

Text

Only the Light Ch. 19

Fate touches Scully's life, as does her own free will.

-----------------------

Can you still call something a miracle when you could not have gone on without it? When, if it hadn’t happened, the death knell would have sounded in your memory? Is that really a miracle, or is it just what had to occur? Certainly what keeps you breathing wouldn’t be so highly esteemed if the chips fell the other way. It would be called a tragedy, and no one wants to live in a world where every moment is caught between the two.

Scully existed there for a little while, but she’s escaped. Maybe for good. Because this--the Lace’s sacrifice, her signature on the adoption paper, her baby in her arms--is no miracle. This is God realizing she’s gotten her fair share, that he owes her a break. This is her fate.

In more normal circumstances, the foster family and the adoptive parent would have no contact. Social services would handle the transition. Since those barriers are already broken in Emily’s case, the state allows the Lace’s and their son to accompany Emily as she’s turned over to Scully. The nondescript woman in the polo shirt joins them as a witness to the custody change, and so they all find themselves at Bill Jr.’s house--of all places--for one grievous goodbye and a destined hello.

Mrs. Lace passes Emily to Scully moments after the family walks through the door. Her red-rimmed eyes reveal the depth of her agony.

“Take her,” she says. “I need to start letting go while she’s still in my sight.”

Scully bites her lip, feels Emily’s pudgy hand press into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lace. I can’t imagine how hard this must be. I’ll make good on my promise to send pictures and updates, I swear.”

“Thank you, Dana.” She sighs. “It’ll be an adjustment.”

Her husband taps the head of the little boy by his knee. “This is Andrew, our son. He wanted to make sure Emily has the best life possible, so he made you a guide to her favorite things.”

The boy--no more than five--holds up a construction paper booklet with crayon drawings of him and baby Emily. How To Mak My Sister Smile, his stilted handwriting reads. Scully’s heart skips a beat as she accepts it from him. She kneels down so he’s level with her and Emily.

“Thank you, Andrew. This is so sweet and I’ll be sure to read every bit of it and make sure your sister smiles every single day, okay?”

He nods, but tears cloud his vision.

Scully turns Emily so that she’s perched on her knee, facing Andrew. “Tell me--what’s your favorite thing to do with your sister?” she asks him softly.

He rubs his eyes and nose. “I like to show her my cars,” he stammers.

“Your cars? Wow!” Scully effuses. It’s not often that she gets to work on her kiddie voice, and she’ll need that now.

The color returns Andrew’s face. “Yeah, yeah, my race cars! I have a mat for them, and I push them around the track, and she watches. She likes the races. They make her laugh sometime.”

“Wow! You sound like a great big brother.”

“Yeah, and I like her bouncy thing too,” he sputters. “It was mine before.”

“An activity jumper,” Mr. Lace clarifies. “From Fisher-Price.”

“Ahh.” Scully’s happy to get any insight she can into her daughter’s early life. The Lace’s offered to send some toys with Emily, but Scully will only accept a couple onesies and Emily’s beloved stuffed rabbit. She doesn’t want to take any more from them than she already is.

She adjusts Emily on her knee, looks to Andrew. “Do you wanna give your sister a hug?”

“Okay.” He moves bashfully toward her and wraps his arms around Emily. He holds on until Emily begins to fuss, then steps back like he’s been caught sneaking away from time out.

“Emily’s lucky to have a big brother like you,” Scully tells him. “Your parents have my phone number, and you can call and talk to her whenever you want, okay? I know she can’t say much yet, but she’ll grow into it, and besides, she’ll recognize your voice.” Scully offers him a spirit-boosting smile. “Does that sound good?”

He nods, hands linked behind his back. Stranger shyness has taken over.

“Good. She’s gonna need her big brother to stick up for her.”

Scully stands up, clutching Emily to her chest.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lace,” Scully addresses them, “it’s impossible for me to sum up how deeply, deeply grateful I am for you and your sacrifice. It is no exaggeration to say that you have saved my life. I can already tell that Emily is so lucky to have been raised by you--that you have done an incredible job--and I hope that the two of us will continue to be a part of you and your son’s lives as Emily grows up.”

Mrs. Lace dabs her cheeks with a tissue. Mr. Lace frowns at his wife’s pain. “That means a great deal to us, Dana,” he replies.

“We feel blessed to have led Emily through her formative months,” his wife murmurs through her tear-strickenness.

The man nods. “She’s a wonderful kid, and I’m sure some of that comes from you.”

Scully smiles tautly. “I could say the same of you. Thank you for giving her the start I was denied from providing her.”

“You’ll let us know if you need any help, won’t you?”

“Of course. I’ll have your number on speed dial by the end of the night.”

The Lace’s formal goodbye had taken place at home, they said, and dragging out their visit would only make matters worse. They leave Bill Jr.’s house after a few short minutes, advancing down the front steps like a funeral procession.

When the door shuts and Scully’s baby is in her arms, she realizes that this will be her life for the rest of her life. What joy--! What horror--!

----------------------------

The heater’s gentle sigh provides a generous rush of white noise as the girls settle for sleep. It’s the time of year when San Diego’s nightly temperatures start drifting away from perfection, when sleeping with the windows open no longer has such appeal. According to Bill, it’s not cold enough to turn on the heating system (surprise, surprise) so he pulled a dusty space heater from the closet for the “girl’s room” to share. Like a gentleman, Mulder took the couch (as if he had any other option), leaving Scully, Missy, and now Emily with the guest room. A family affair, one generation rounded out by another.

It’s a convenient arrangement, really. Bill doesn’t have a crib and it’s not worth buying one for a single night, so Emily will be sleeping on the bed like a grown-up. If Missy weren’t there as a physical barrier, Scully would be taking the chance that Emily might roll off the unattended side. Instead, the little girl’s mother and aunt will be an arm’s length away for her first sleep with her new family. A symbolic gesture of the protection they hope to provide for the rest of her life.

It’s a wonder how smoothly the transition has gone. Emily hasn’t shed a single tear since the family she knew left her in this strange house. Then again, Scully has never seen her daughter cry; like her mother, she must not be prone to it.

Tara served a ham for dinner while Scully spooned mashed carrots and peas into Emily’s mouth, her helicopter parenting beginning early. Mulder made some joke about gourmet baby food, and everybody laughed except Bill, and Scully felt that she finally understood what was meant by family--some who share your blood will never fit into it, but some who were once strangers will more than make up for that absence.

And now, as Scully lowers her onesie-clad daughter onto the guest bed, there is peace. Terror, too, lingers in her mind, but it’s the unwarranted kind. She is the mother to a healthy baby girl. Yes, there will be challenges. Yes, a person loved separately from yourself is a person you could lose. But the summit has been reached; the worst did not happen, and now everything else pales in comparison. As far as Scully’s concerned, she can never be truly hurt again. Because if anything happens to Emily, well, this is what Scully asked for, and what gives her the right to complain? Beggars can’t be choosers, and she begged God for this...The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. This happened in the opposite order for her, so she can only assume more loss is to come, and she will accept it. She will.

Scully slides beneath the comforter, snaking her arm out from under to rest a hand on the small of her baby’s back. A comfort very familiar to her, and one she will bequeath to her daughter. They have the bed to themselves for now. Missy is in the living room downing a beer with the boys and trying to compete with (or mediate?) their trash talk. In the past, a situation like this might worry Scully, but those old concerns look so small now.

Only a few hours in, and she already feels much more at home with the title of mother, much more deserving of it. The first diaper she changed rivaled some of the operations she witnessed in med school, both in its gruesome nature and in requiring multiple pairs of hands. Mulder would help if Emily was a boy, he swore, but he claimed to be “out of his depth with her plumbing” as he put it. Missy quipped that you sure are and it made even Bill laugh and life was wonderfully rose-colored through Dana Scully’s eyes.

She hopes for sweet dreams for herself, but much more so, for her daughter, and she is aware that this is how it will be for the rest of time. Having been half-asleep when she was put down, Emily lulls into even-breathed dozing before Scully can decide on a lullaby. No harm done; Scully’s vocal cords haven’t seen regular exercise since college karaoke, and she’d hate to disappoint so soon.

When she opens her eyes again (she hadn’t realized she closed them, but apparently she had), Emily is deep in sleep, her eyelids twitching to the rhythm of her unseen dreams. And Missy has joined them too, her mouth drooping like it did when the sisters shared a bed every Christmas Eve. Scully doesn’t know what time it is, and with such a picture perfect view in front of her, she won’t dare to roll over and check the bedside clock. How nice it is to exist beyond time’s constraints, even for a moment.

Scully is as present, maybe, as she’s ever been. She’s touched by the past and the future, ironically giving her a heightened awareness of now. One side of her consciousness is borne back into childhood and the many nights she slept by her sister’s side--in this very city, in fact. The other sees a path of hope unfurling in front of it, finally. She wonders whether her happiness might multiply, like a drop of food coloring unleashed into water. Might Emily be the shield that she’s needed?...Maybe the loss she expects will not be what comes.

And what that could mean...she has meant, for a long time now, to plant Mulder firmly in her life. Partner is much too fleeting--the Bureau could close the X-Files tomorrow, and then they’d be nothing but ex-coworkers. They’ve established where they stand through silences that say more than words ever could. She loves him, he loves her, and my god, neither one wants to lose that. It’s only now that Scully is realizing that they haven’t--or she, rather, hasn’t--embraced what they have, and so there is nothing to lose, and very little to cherish.

With all this change in her life, she thinks, why not add that to the list?

--------------------------------------

They fly back into DC on Emily’s first birthday. November 2nd. Or at least, that’s the date that was left on the note at the foster agency. Scully isn’t sure exactly what she was doing last November 2nd, but she wasn’t having a baby, that’s certain. It was around the time of Aubrey, Missouri and BJ and nightmares, she remembers that. Plus, the phantom pregnancy, and the fear. The universe has a way of echoing itself.

They’re off to Mama Scully’s as soon as they make it off the tarmac. She’s aching to see her granddaughter, as she let Dana and Melissa know through a barrage of phone calls. I even made cupcakes and bought decorations for a warm welcome home! she insisted. Neither one of them can remember their mother being this excited about anything since...honestly? Ever. And they can’t blame her; Emily is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to their family. If only their father were here to meet her.

This is the sorrow that Scully has not had time to pick at. Her hero, her role model, the blueprint for all she wants Emily to be, not around to see it happen. She can’t think further than that; it’s the loose string that would unravel the sweater.

Mama Scully opens the door before they make it up the front steps, armed with yellow balloons and a party hat for the birthday girl. What a way to meet your grandmother.

“Hello dear!” It’s unclear whether she’s referring to Emily, one of her daughters, or the three as a unit. “Look at you…” she cups her hands around Emily’s head, and now they’re pretty sure who she’s referring to. “You’re like a little princess!”

Scully smirks. She’s glad to witness her mother’s happiness, of course, but they’ve just finished five hours of travelling with a baby. “Mom, please, could you save the theatrics for inside?”

“Oh, I have a whole other set of theatrics planned there,” Mama Scully quips. She clears the way, ushers the group into the house.

She touches Mulder’s shoulder as he passes. “Fox! I almost didn’t see you there.”

“Well, I can’t compete with Emily, so I don’t blame you.”

“She is precious, isn’t she?” Mrs. Scully gazes toward the doorway that Scully and Emily have since deserted. “There’s a place for you in Emily’s future, you know.”

Mulder shoves his hands in his pockets. “Oh.” He doesn’t know what else to say to that, and besides, it should be up to Scully.

“Unless there’s another woman in your life…?”

“No, no, I just--” he chuckles. “I didn’t expect that.”

Mama Scully lays a hand on his arm. “I care about you, Fox. Your well-being is deeply connected with my daughter’s.”

“Yes, of course…” He really, really would like to go in now.

“And it’s important to me that she has a strong support system throughout this ordeal. Raising a child is a tremendous challenge, and I don’t want her to feel that the burden is hers alone.”

“I completely agree.”

“That’s why you should adopt Emily, too. Give her the gift of a father.”

Mulder’s brain short-circuits. “I--what? Mrs. Scully, I don’t know--”

She puts a hand on his back and leads him inside. “Think about it. You and Dana, forming a family for this child that needs one. It would be a little untraditional, of course, but the wedding could come in due time, no need to rush.”

Mulder’s head is spinning. This is a practical joke, right? The hidden cameras can feel free to reveal themselves any time now.

The pair stops in the front hallway, a safe distance from everyone else in the kitchen. Mulder tries to mold his thoughts into cohesive sentences.

“Mrs. Scully, your intentions are good, but I think this solution is a bit extreme. I’m more than happy to help with Emily as much as possible, but becoming her father would just make things more complicated for all involved. And trust me, even if I were onboard, there’s no way Dana would go for it.”

Mama Scully nods. “I anticipated that. I’m going to talk with her tonight, straighten things out.”

Mulder does an awkward side-to-side shuffle. “If there’s one thing I know about her, it’s that her mind is not easily changed.”

“Yes, well, I doubt this is something Dana has given much thought to. I’m hoping to get my argument across before she takes sides.”

“Mmm.” Mulder looks off toward the kitchen, where he would like to be.

“I’ll let Dana know that we’ve discussed my proposition,” Mama Scully continues, “and then you two can talk it over, alright? I don’t mean to force you into anything. It just feels like a logical step. I’m sure you’d agree that your relationship is deeper than that of many married couples.”

“Sure, but it’s very different too,” Mulder mutters. This is not a topic to delve into with his partner’s mother, of all people. “I don’t know that they can be compared.”

“Perhaps you should consider it.”

Mrs. Scully holds her hardened glance for a long second, and Mulder is the one who breaks. He scoots out of her direct line of sight, then gestures for her to go before him into the kitchen. “Shall we?”

------------------------------

They celebrate Emily’s 365th day around the sun like they’ve been by her side for every one of them. Before the crew arrived, Mama Scully whipped up vanilla cupcakes with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles, or as she put it, “a little bit of everything since I don’t know what she likes.” She even bought a happy birthday banner and sharpied in Emily’s name--not to mention five birthday hats and a humongous 1 candle that a single cupcake can barely hold up.

It’s a testament to Emily’s character that she’s so unbothered by it all. She lets Mama Scully slip the hat into place, shows no visible distress to the admiration she receives from the room. She prefers her mother’s arms over anyone else’s--they are, after all, the most familiar of the unfamiliar--but she’s content anywhere that welcomes her. And this is a place where she is most welcome.

Scully reminds herself to capture these little moments in her mind...Emily’s effervescent giggle as Missy tickles the bottoms of her feet, Mulder helping Mama Scully add extra sprinkles to each cupcake, the warm hug of a family’s company. Love, love, there is so much love here.

The time comes for cake and singing and blown-out candles. Well, candle in this case. Mulder performs the honor of lighting said candle as everyone gathers around, Emily nestled in her mother’s arms.

“Ready?” Mulder inquires. He conducts in time with his countdown. “One, two, one, two, three…”

The rendition is not in tune on anyone’s part (though Missy is the closest), but at least their intentions are harmonious. Scully’s heart swells. Mulder and Missy throw in a zany “and many more!” for the cherry on top of a joyous moment. Scully mourns its end; the birthday song is much too brief.

“Make a wish!” Missy chirps, and Scully leans forward and blows out the flame for her daughter. Safety, happiness, love...these are the things she asks for. These are the things that everyone deserves.

Scully’s not surprised when her mother pulls her aside a few minutes later and leads her to the library, leaving Emily at Missy and Mulder’s mercy. Her mother is fond of sentimental speeches, but not brave enough for an audience. Scully steels herself for a mushy-gushy outpouring.

Mama Scully shuts the door, turns to her daughter. “I’m overflowing with joy. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, mom,” Scully answers, tiresome already. “I’m a bit afraid this is all a dream that I’ll wake up from at any moment.”

“Pinch yourself. You’ll see that it’s not, I promise.”

Scully pinches her bicep, more for her mother’s amusement than anything. This is, in fact, reality.

“You must be very overwhelmed, I imagine,” Mrs. Scully remarks, beginning to pace. Scully follows with her eyes.

“There is a lot that I haven’t sorted out yet, yes,” Scully replies, her suspicion about her mother’s intentions growing. “Work, for example. I only have one more day off, and then I have to explain everything to Skinner, and hopefully I’ll qualify for maternity leave. But the Bureau isn’t very good about that, it’s only two weeks.”

“Just remember that I’m always available to babysit Emily if you need it.”

“I know, mom.”

Mama Scully allows herself to get side-tracked for a moment. “You have a crib though? And diapers, and a high chair?”

Scully nods. “Required for the home study.”

“Good.” Mama Scully sweeps back a wayward piece of her daughter’s hair. “I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re all alone in this.”

Her mother’s soft gaze unearths a sudden swell of emotion; tears prick at the back of Scully’s eyes. “I know, mom.”

“And I know that you’re gonna say you are Emily’s only legal guardian, and so you are technically alone, but you know what? You don’t have to be,” Mama Scully asserts. “There is someone out there who is willing to fill that void for you.”

Scully rolls her eyes, her brief emotional trance broken. “Don’t tell me you're gonna set me up with the Prizatskys’ son again.”

“Oh no,” Mrs. Scully laughs. “Besides, he’s engaged now.”

“Oh.” Scully tries to miss the patronization in her mother’s voice.

“What I’m saying is,” Mrs. Scully continues, “there is a man in your life who is loyal, trustworthy, hard-working, and in the perfect position to provide for you and Emily.”

“If you’re referring to Mulder,” Scully starts, an eyebrow raised, “I’m not exactly planning to shun him anytime soon.”

“Yes, but have you ever truly let him in?”

Mrs. Scully has aimed her arrow and hit her target, a stunning blow. The most damning parts of Scully’s inner dialogue have just been echoed back at her.

Wounded, she swallows hard. “That’s really none of your business. And just because he’s in my life doesn’t mean that he magically fills the role of Emily’s father. How would that even work? Emily would have to be shuttled back and forth...She’d be split between one parent and the other...It would make her life more hectic.”

“Dana, Dana…” Mama Scully pulls her daughter close, recognizing that she’s struck a nerve. Scully stiffens into the hug. “Remember when you were little, and your father would be gone on long deployments, and you’d draw pictures of him in his uniform, and tell your class about how your father was a Navy captain, and you were so proud? You barely had a sense of what that meant, but you knew he was doing something important.”

Scully relaxes into their embrace. “And when I missed him the worst, you’d let me wear his old sailor hat.”

“Yes.” Mama Scully takes a hearty breath. “I was there every day, feeding you, bathing you, sending you off to school...and you loved me, I don’t doubt that, but I wasn’t the one who put stars in your eyes.”

Scully nods against her mother’s shoulder. Damn, if she isn’t winding her way toward a convincing point.

“Emily’s gonna love you whatever you choose. But the fuller her life is--the more love she’s surrounded by--the more she’ll have to give, and the brighter her light will shine.”

Scully sniffles, shaken by the truth of this. God, to know as much love as she’s known in her life and resist it still. That’s not the way a life is meant to be lived.

“Thank you, mom,” she whispers in her mother’s ear. It’s an imprecise affirmation--encompassing everything and yet a specific something that she can no longer reject.

Scully pulls away, smiles at her mom. “No more meddling, okay? I’ll sort this out for myself.”

Mama Scully laughs. “You just needed that push. Now that the ball’s rolling, I’ll leave it alone.”

“You’d better,” Scully teases. She gestures toward the door. “I should get back to my baby.”

“Yes,” Mama Scully grins, “you should.”

-------------------------------

The knock on the door comes at a quarter to noon, as Scully expected. She didn’t expect that she’d be scrubbing grape juice off the tile when it happened, but hey, these are the disruptions everyone in her life will have to get used to. Including--especially--her.

“I’ll get it!” Missy’s voice breezes through the apartment.

A moment later, Scully finds herself level with a pair of black dress shoes. Big ones. A twelve if she had to guess.

“Scully, if you wanna know my shoe size, just ask,” Mulder jests, and has he read her mind? She feels like she’s been caught in a compromising act, though she’s done nothing but wipe up a sticky purple mess. She cranes her neck, looks up at him.

“Good morning, Mulder,” she mumbles, running her hand over the spill area. Coming up clean, she finds her footing. The top of her head is even with her partner’s collarbone.

Scully thumbs toward Emily, who is gobbling cheese crackers in her high chair without a care in the world. “Apparently she doesn’t like grape juice.”

“Grape juice?” Mulder jeers. “She knows orange juice is where it’s at.”

Scully ignores him, but makes a mental note to add OJ to the grocery list. And apple too, just to be safe.

“Let me get my shoes and I’ll be ready to go,” she says, shuffling off in her pantyhose without waiting for a response.

They have a lunchtime meeting with Skinner to explain...well, everything. Mulder doesn’t need to be there--as his partner was quick to remind him--but he insists on advocating for her. No amount of I’m not a damsel in distress, Mulder will put him off. She’s so much more than that, he knows. Hence why he’s got to do all he can so her life isn’t defined by its crises. Besides, he’ll take any excuse to sneak down to the office on his day off.

He told Scully he’d pick her up because it’d be easier on her, sure, but also because he has an important delivery to make. He nods to Missy, and she grabs the goods off the front table. He wanted to make his entrance before the big moment. His presence known, he’s ready to go.

“Emily, Uncle Mulder brought something for you!” Missy sing-songs as she places the gifts in Mulder’s hidden hands. The girl looks up, her attention easily diverted here and there.

Mulder tries to tip-toe forward--hands behind his back--without coming off as creepy, which is harder than it seems. He takes it as a good sign that Emily doesn’t spook and wonders what it means that Missy called him Uncle Mulder. Did she and Scully have a conversation about it? Is this what he’ll be known as? Or was that just a last minute reach to fill the space?

He pushes these thoughts away, focuses on the blue-eyed girl in front of him.

“Emily,” he begins, and it rolls off his tongue like a devotion, “I thought your bunny might like some friends.”

He reveals the fox first, then the UFO. His personal mark on Emily’s budding stuffed animal collection. She lets out a peep of astonishment and reaches for the fox, fascinated with its bushy tail. She hits it back and forth so it wags like a dog’s.

Mulder chuckles, his brain lighting up in places it never has before. Missy hangs back and waits for her sister to reemerge. Sure enough, Scully melts at the sight, stopping short so she doesn’t interrupt it. She clutches her heart. She and Missy share a smile.

“My, my, look at this,” Scully saunters in, ruffles Emily’s hair. “Do you know what this is, Em?” she asks, patting the fox. “This is a fox.” She points to Mulder. “And this is a Fox, too!”

Emily doesn’t get the joke, but that’s okay.

“And do you know what this is?” Mulder prompts, picking up the flying saucer. He moves it through the air like it’s flying. Emily reaches for it, and god, Mulder knows the feeling.

“This is a UFO, Emily,” Mulder tells her sweetly. “Aliens!”

“No, no.” Scully plucks the UFO from his hand. “No aliens, Em.”

She lays the saucer on the high chair tray. “Mama’s gotta go away for a little bit, but I’ll be back soon.” She kisses Em’s temple. “Auntie Missy will be right here.”

Missy steps forward. “We can play with Mr. Fox and the al--” Scully shoots her a look. ”The UFO!” she corrects, winking at Mulder. She scoops her niece out of the high chair. “Say ‘bye Mama!’”

Emily doesn’t have that grasp on words yet, and they all know it, but Missy gets her to wave. “Okay, now ‘bye Uncle Mulder!’” Another wave. Smiles all around.

Mulder and Scully move reluctantly toward the door. Scully groans as Missy and the baby girl slip from her view.

“They’ll be okay,” Mulder assures his partner.

“I know,” Scully sighs, “but will I?”

Mulder rests his hand in the familiar spot on her back as they exit her apartment. “Absolutely. Skinner will grant you the leave, and you’ll be back with your baby in no time.”

She nods, bites her lip, and slows, suddenly wistful. Mulder stops, turns to her. “Scully…?”

“Mulder, did my mom have a conversation with you?”

He nods.

“And...did you think it was kind of crazy too?”

He nods again.

She takes a breath and rises to her tip-toes. She could pretend not to know what she’s doing, but she does. Oh, she does.

“But not out of the realm of extreme possibility…?” she coos, eyes centered on his lips.

Mulder smiles shyly. He always expected it would be this way: Scully the coquette to his boyish ineptitude. Who knew she’d be stealing his lines.

His hands find her waist, pulling her closer there in the hallway. “No, no,” he muses, “I think it’s pretty solidly in the realm…” He nuzzles her neck, breathes in her sweet smell, and nibbles her ear, all in the beat of a hummingbird’s wing. “...of extreme possibility,” he purrs into her ear, satisfied with himself.

It reminds Scully of do you believe in the existence of ~extraterrestrials~ and how she knew then that he was a little bit unhinged, whip-snap smart, and too goddamn charming for his own good. That either fate or her own unconquerable desire would bring them together. She knows now that fate conspired to keep them apart. What’s unfolding is neither an act of its hand nor a last-ditch effort of a dead-end life. It is one choice among many, undertaken out of sheer belief in the happiness it could bring.

She looks into his eyes, which look back at her with a caramel-drizzle melt. Yes, yes, this is right. She fans a hand out on his cheek, runs her thumb over his mole. She has always wanted to touch it, but could never come up with a good excuse.

They’ve delayed the inevitable long enough. Scully leans in, still on her tip-toes, and Mulder bends to close the distance. Their lips meet, and there’s no fireworks. No, it’s simple serenity. Like coming home after a long time away--though this is a house they have never walked into until now, they have a feeling they will be walking into it for the rest of their lives.

And then Scully pulls away, and it’s over but it’s just beginning.

#a moment of happiness among all the angst <3 #thank you as always for reading #kinda sorta almost done #but i have one last angsty twist cause that's who i am #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #the x-files #txf #txf fic #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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