#let's ignore the fact ive only done two of these for the event

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (IV)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 1,495

CW: bullying, feelings of neglect and isolation

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen can be read as x reader)

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

It had been nearly a year since the events of Driftmark. Since her mother and brothers had left to Dragonstone. A year since her fathers death. And yet she already had a new father, one she did not like, alongside his two daughters. She had also gained a new brother. But she hadn’t met him, and she doubted she would meet him soon. As each day passed the distance between Dragonstone and the red keep seemed to get bigger and bigger.

“My dear?” she heard Alicent call out, having gotten closer the last year, Alicent had become more and more of a mother to her, and being her 9th nameday and her mother and brothers nowhere to be seen, to Aemma it had began to seem like Alicent was more of a mother to her than her own. A fact little 9 year old Aemma could not stomach to admit.

“Yes?” she asked, looking up from her spot in the library. She had found her time often spent alone as of late. Aemond having become more distant since the incident. And Heleana, well was Heleana, keeping to herself, though she had become more and more isolated since her wedding to Aegon last month. And Aegon spent most of his time at the bottom of a bottle in the depths of kingslanding. So she resided in herself spending days in the library by herself, in a spot that used to be her and Aemonds to just becoming hers. And the few spare moments Aemond seemed to give her were spent training Vaghar, or watching him train with ser criston. He no longer wanted to chase after each other in the godswoods, or read in the library. Or simply just existing in each others company. She understood, somewhat, he was becoming a man, a man hell bent on learning everything in him to defend himself, to learn to fight. Everyone was growing up, but her, and she was being left behind.

“My sweet girl, what's wrong?” Alicent questioned, rounding the corner to see Aemma in what she knew to be her spot. “Hmm? You seem to spend every moment alone, and I know many girls at court who would die for a moment of time spent with you.”

“What girls? Helena only ever wants to be by herself, and seems to ignore me every time i spend time with her, and the last set of girls you summoned just whispered rumours behind my back. I don't wish to spend time with them, i just want Aemond, and he doesn't want me.”

Sighing, Alicent moved down to her level, talking her hands in hers, “that's not true, Aemond still adores you, he is, well-... he's becoming a man and needs time to grow, and after the events of driftmark, well they changed him, just give him time.

“Time? Thats all ive done, it's been almost a year, and not even a moon had passed after driftamrk has he started to ice me out. He was supposed to marry me, and yet he's completely changed!”

“He's a boy, a twelve, Trust me sweetheart, he's just a silly boy who thinks he has to do all of these things to make up for his lack of eye. He thinks you will not love him, think him to be hideous, that is why.” Alicent responded, soothing Aemma, by stroking her hair.

“Well that's just plain stupid!”

“I know,sweet girl, but all boys are.” Alicent continued “ know, we have a birthday ball and feast to attend, and my gift is waiting for you.” she said standing up and inviting Aemma up with her.

In her chambers, laid out on her bed was a white dress embellished with gold. It had puffed sleeves that slimmed down to cover her arm. The dress was lkonger than her usual dresses, and more wide, though not by much. Glod was laced around the neck line, and out edges of the dress, with gold and silver jewels scattered across it, creatijng a pattern down the bodedice. The white itself seemed to shimmer, as if moonlight was bouncing off it. When she put it on she felt pretty. She felt beautiful. Her hair was tied up with a gold ribbon, decorated with pearls and butterflies. For this she knew the gift was not Alicent but Aemonds, or atleast he had some influence. Butterflies. The thing they always used to chase, and the thing ameond loved to compare her too. Butterflies. 

The feast was magnificent, lords and ladies from all over Westeros had come, and she had received more than enough gifts and attention though not from anyone that mattered to her. 

Aemodn was there from the start, though he stuck to eating rather than actually spending any time with her. His attention seemed to be elsewhere.

“Aemond?” she questioned, trying to capture his attention “Aemond, are you enjoying the feast?” he did not reply, looking down at his plate instead, avoiding eye contact. “Aemond?” she pushed again “Aemond!? By the gods answer me!”

“Hmm?” he hummed looking up, allowing her to see the book placed in his lap.

“Gods why wojnt you talk to me?” she asked, moveing to turn to him, her eyes filling with tears, “ for the last six moons i have been acting like a stay dog trying to get your attenion, and now even at a feast helped in my honoru, you brign-” she reached forward grabbing Aemonds book “- a book. A book? To my own party, instead of talking to me. Why?”

“Aemma, please-”

“No, tell me.!”

“Gods, you're a child!” he snactehd the book from her hand, “your just a silly little girl, can't you understand that, you could not defend me, and when you had the chance to you ran off to your pathetic mother, and then come crying to me for help, whilst i have just lost an eye to your bas-” he shook his head, a look of shame fillking his face as he sees her eyes filled with tears, “gods!” he sighed, dragging a hand down his face, reaching forward “Aemma- it's been a lot lately, i have had to relearn everything, to fit with the loss of my eye, and i, look im sorry, i just snapped. But you have to understand, i cnat be a child anylonger, being your friend, and litening to your childish escapades caused me to be in this situation. Now I have to be a man, I have to stop being a child.”

“So you have to stop being my freind, to go on your silly little- your, to be a man? What does that even mean?!” she cried, “it's my nameday, can you not just be my friend for today?” she was begging,it was almost pitiful. 

Aemonds face changed, snapping form the look of shame and regret to annoyance, to cold and still, a face evewryone would soon be familiar with, “ and why would i want to do that” he sneerd, dropping her hand, and standing up, before briskly leaving the room without a single glance back. 

The rest of her night was spent alone. With Heleana leaving not shortly after Aemond, followed by Aegon muttering something about doing his husbandly duty. Alicent and her grandsire had already left an hour in, the King's health failing him, and forcing many of the lords and ladies to leave, as if their only purpose was to talk to him and not her. So she was left all by herself bar a few older cousins that she did not know. 

But the remaining hours she was forced to stay, many lordlings asked her to dance, and it turns out Alicent had already summoned some more girls to King's Landing, arranging a meeting  witht them at her own ball. Taking her mind of the event sthat had happened prior, evne if for a few hours. For a few hours she wasnt so alone, for a few hours she was just a nine year old girl celebrating her name day, celebrating with her friends. People who over the next four years would become the only people she truly had.

And when she did finally retire to her rooms, and she was well and truly alone she cried, she knew no one would knock and have late night celebrations, just as no one had knocked at midnight to wish her a happy name day. Just as Aemond did not spend every second of the day with her, smuggling her all the food she wanted, and giving her a gift for every hour of the day. She spent it alone, and she would spend the next four namedays alone, crying. She would celebrate with her ladies, though it would never be the same, she owuld dance with strangers, and not ameond, where dresses gifted by people other than her mother and Aemond. Her family would become more distant and Aemond becomes less and less her Aemond.

next part

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

My lady strong: @aemondssiut@idonotknowenglish @sydneyyyya @wondergal2001 @whitejuliana1204 @meowtastick @bellaisasleep @tinykryptonitewerewolf @sarahkimtae @winchesterfamiliebusiness @iiamthehybrid @zzz000eee @spookydaddy01 @melllinaa @ateliefloresdaprimavera @aelora-a @aleemendoza2425-blog @chittakii @gghoulzz @ryiana @duckworthbean @cynic-spirit @may-machin @Gianinaa19 @wolfiealina @unique7676 @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew

Hotd: @targaryenmoony @theanxietyqueen17 @flrboyd @zillahvathek @dark-night-sky-99 @apollonshootafar

Aemond: @blossomedflowerofluv @violet-potter

[aliensunflower-fics]

How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]

[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]

[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]

Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!

No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.

 It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.

It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.

Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.

In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.

 It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.

With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.

The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.

And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.

Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.

 [ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]

[lorettapetrichor]

we dress our best to receive their sympathies / at our worst we dress our best

(wally voice) two fics in one day???

anyways this was supposed to be pure angst but it got gay at the end! whoops! ive been working on this off and on for a few months, i hope y'all enjoy!

warnings: past character death, past torture (both only mentioned/discussed), dissociation, small breakdown i guess?

~1.8k

-

“Today marks the official trial of the former king, Andrias Leviathan the First of Amphibia, so-called ‘peacekeeper of a thousand years,’” Olivia begins, announcing the event that a great crowd of Amphibians has gathered to see.

From the ranks of witnesses to his countless crimes against his own people, Marcy feels the world around her blur out as Olivia jumps into the list of his transgressions.

And suddenly, Marcy hears her name in the speech, and the world clicks back into place with dizzying speed.

“... and the torture and murder of the young chief ranger Marcy Wu--”

There’s whispering among the newts she knows less well, sitting next to her. she can’t look at them, but she feels them looking at her. Sounds are muffled again, the world blurred, and she wants to sink away into her wheelchair and avoid the stares. Marcy knows that Olivia had worded her statement as she had to make more sense to those who were unaware of the full story, but what about those who know she’s alive? Olivia had even warned her of this; that she’d be describing what he’d done to her. Never mind that, she’ll need to tell her story soon anyways. That is, if she can face it by then.

This is unnecessary; everyone in the room knows what he did, the treaties and decrees and guidelines he’d ignored, blatantly broken. But it’s a matter of tradition. Even more importantly, there’s still argument over what his sentence should be. Execution seems obvious, but Olivia wants them to choose something else. Life in prison for someone as long-lived as a Leviathan seems more fair, after all the suffering he caused her and this entire world. Marcy lets her mind go blank again, something she was forced to learn to do while under the Core’s control, while the witnesses tell their stories of enslavement in the robot factories, of being driven from strip-mined areas that were suddenly lifeless and impossible to farm, and the stories of those whose homes had been destroyed in the crossfire. The plan was for her to go last, partially proposed by her, because she’d known that the simple fact was that she could work well for pathos. She hates reducing herself and her injuries to pity points, but it’s a tactical, logical technique. And maybe this traumatized, permanently injured, small girl will be enough to win over the lingering masses to their side.

Finally, her name is called, and she numbly rolls herself forwards. Anne, standing beside Sasha at the base of the stairs to the raised platform, helps Marcy out of the chair and into her arms. Old Newtopian architecture isn’t very accessible. Then again, with so much of the Old City destroyed, she could perhaps lay out some plans for new construction to be better in that sense.

“You'll do fine,” she whispers into Marcy’s ear. Sasha picks up Marcy’s wheelchair and carries it up the small flight of stairs to the stage. There, Marcy sits back down, adjusts herself, and lets Sasha fix a few loose strands of hair. She takes a deep breath, ignoring the twinge of pain in her ribs that still lingers all these months later, and rolls her wheelchair towards Olivia.

She can hear the gasps and whispers from the crowd at this small girl’s lasting injuries. She forces herself to ignore it.

She has a script, she has index cards, even! She's practiced by herself in the mirror, though only one of those rehearsals didn’t end in her crying into her arms, alone in her room.

No, she’s going to be fine. She has a script, she’s practiced. She can do this.

“Hi, uh, everyone.”

The microphone squeaks uncomfortably.

“As you probably already know, I'm Marcy Wu. I arrived in this world with two other humans and ended up rising to a high position under the king. I trusted him. but when the toads attacked and everything fell apart, he told us who he really was.

“He told me that day that his ancestors had been conquerors of worlds, and I realized that he’d only used me to get the box back. He tried to lead an invasion on my home planet, and my friends were barely able to stop him.

“I wasn’t there to fight by their side in the war, because that night when he admitted to who he’d once been, I… he stabbed me through the chest with his sword. I died less than three minutes later.”

Numbers make it easier. If she can focus on those simple, objective figures, maybe she can hold herself together. She can feel the crowd watching her, waiting for her next move.

“Obviously, since I’m here today, he didn’t let me stay dead. He had plans for me. He brought me back to life, and kept me unconscious, in stasis as I healed, in a secret room in the castle.”

She looks at Olivia.

“When he started enacting his plans, Olivia and Yunan snuck down to save me. But they never made it out. The Core, his ancient master, appeared. It grabbed me, strapped me to a chair… and then…”

She can’t do it. She can’t keep this up.

“Olms, it--he… god, it hurt so much. The--the Core, it… it downloaded itself into my mind, but it was torturing me, my entire body felt like it had been set on fire… it turned me into its host, it trapped me in my mind, and he used me as a weapon--” She’s fallen off of her script, scrambling to remember the things she’s supposed to be saying, shuffling through her cards but unable to read them as she becomes increasingly panicked. Finally, all she can do is scream -- a broken sound, coming from those damaged lungs of hers -- and throw her cards to the ground. She slumps in her chair in frustration and overwhelming emotion, eyes stinging with tears as she tries not to fall apart. She feels tears flowing down her cheeks, energy crackling as her eyes glow green. No, she won’t unleash that here. But she can’t keep going, either.

“Olivia, I--I can’t,” she says, a few drops running down her face as she turns towards her.

The crowd starts to whisper when Olivia quickly steps over to hug Marcy as she finally breaks, sobbing into the newt’s silk dress. Olivia strokes her back, where the cut of her dress exposes the deep scar that traces down her spine, with smooth, cold hands, murmuring to her gently.

Olivia pulls back for a moment, tenderly brushing the hair out of Marcy’s eyes. “Do you want to go wait with Anne and Sasha?” she asks her, quietly. Marcy, through her tears, can only nod. Too shaken to wheel herself back to them, waiting at the top of the stairs, she lets Olivia push her.

When Olivia returns to her speech, Sasha and Anne again help her off of the stage and back into her wheelchair. As they make their way away from the crowd’s eyes, Marcy overhears Olivia.

“The girl you just saw is less than fourteen years old. Andrias committed one of the worst acts in our recorded history through what he did to her. She will never be the same as she was before Andrias’s conquest of the land thanks to the pain she suffered at his hands. That alone should be enough for you all to see why execution would be too light a fate for him. Countless Amphibians died under his conquests, but it was this child who he tortured so horribly that may well have suffered more than any.”

Marcy doesn’t need to hear any more.

Hell, she isn’t supposed to be hearing this at all, probably, but Anne and Sasha have lingered, and she can’t bring herself to say the words to express this. It’s not until she starts sobbing again, shaking in her chair, that Anne finally nudges Sasha to wheel her through the backstage door and away from this place.

-

The door behind the stage of the hall they’re using for this trial opens into a quiet alley that spills into Newtopia’s park, left uncared for but mostly undamaged by the war. There’s not a cloud in the vibrant blue sky, the grass is pure green; it’s a beautiful day, and the sun is growing low enough that soon the city will turn gold under the sunset’s light. Marcy sees none of that.

Anne cups her cheek in her hand, making Marcy look up at her. Marcy doesn’t meet her eyes, looking off into the distance over her shoulder with her eyes unfocused.

“How can we help you?” Anne asks.

Not “are you okay”, because that answer is certainly obvious. She just broke down into tears onstage in front of hundreds of Amphibians over the incredibly traumatizing torture she’d been subjected to during the war.

No, Anne asks how she can help.

What can we do?

What do you need?

Marcy is tired of needing to be cared for, but sometimes it’s nice.

She forces herself to smile, though she’s never quite mastered the way of letting the fake expression continue to her eyes. Marcy can tell that Anne notices. “H-how about a--a date?”

She lets the shakiness of her voice carry through, just to show that she’s trying to feel better. She’s trying.

“I--I mean, we’re already dressed f-for it, right?”

Her smile does, in fact, briefly become genuine.

Sasha pecks a quick kiss on Marcy’s cheek, just on top of the scars tracing where the helmet had attached to her flesh, and that’s finally enough to break down the painful emotions Marcy’s found herself lost in. She giggles. When Anne, too, leans down to softly kiss her, she can’t help herself. Marcy laughs and grins as soon as Anne pulls back.

“Feel better?” Anne asks.

Marcy nods, then adds, “Y-yeah. I think so.” Marcy looks up at her, smiling softly. The sun has indeed started to set. Anne looks beautiful, Marcy thinks, looking at the amber light shining through Anne’s curls, strands gently moving in the evening breeze off the water.

Sasha laughs, and Marcy realizes that she said that out loud.

“So, a date?” Sasha says.

“Where do you want to go?” Anne asks, looking at Marcy. “You can pick tonight.”

Marcy smiles, looking up at the sky.

“Well, there’s this restaurant that Olivia and Yunan went out to one of the times I stayed with you and the Plantars…” she begins.

As she continues to pitch that date, engrossed in her planning, she doesn’t catch the glance that Anne and Sasha share.

They’re happy for her.

A few months ago, if Marcy had tried to even think about her experiences, she’d have practically shut down for at least the rest of the day. Today, she managed to talk about it briefly, and moved on from the tears that followed quickly enough to share a date with her girlfriends on that same day. It might not be easy, or even always as linear, but at least she’s getting better, one day at a time.

[sadclearance]

right hand

pairing: katsuki bakugo x male!reader

summary: 5 things bakugo uses his right hand for + 1 thing bakugo uses his left hand for *wrote with “left hand” being in mind as a prequel, but can also be read as a standalone 

category: fluff

warning(s): none

word count: 1500

key:

s/t - skin tone

i.

when they were in high school, midoriya izuku noticed that bakugo katsuki--his childhood friend and bully--always started fights with a right hook.

which was incredibly powerful, albeit predictable.

midoriya still remembers a specific sunny morning in their third year when this expected yet efficient move was used for something that wasn't exactly a fight. a second year had made the unbelievably stupid mistake of--

"watch it, dumbass!"

and immediately after bakugo caught y/n before he could fall on his ass, bakugo's right fist met with the second year's nose, successfully breaking it and scorching off the hairs of the kid's eyebrows.

at the time, nobody really thought anything of it. bakugo was protective of the few people that he considered--but would never outright admit--to be his friends, and y/n was one of them.

ii.

but it was at the christmas social event that was held for the third years to get a chance to make connections as well as have fun before the end of their student years that it became clear that it was much much more than just friends looking out for each other.

"what're you doing all alone?" kaminari asked as he leaned against the wall next to y/n.

"everyone's either flirting with pro heroes or kissing their asses, and i'm not really in the mood to do either."

"yeah, i can see that," kaminari snickered as mineta got slapped in the face by mount lady after both a series of terrible flirting and a horrendous attempt to literally kiss her ass.

"surprised you're not doing the same."

"well..." kaminari said as he pointed up. he was wearing a hat with a hanging mistletoe.

"how not unexpected," y/n laughed.

"you know the tradition," kaminari winked pointing at his lips.

"okay, okay. for the holiday spirit--"

and as y/n leaned in to give kaminari a peck, a strong right hand grabbed his chin, and his lips met with a pair that belonged to someone else.

kaminari was too shocked to be disappointed after being pushed away by none other than bakugo.

"fuck off, dunce face," bakugo said before crashing his lips against y/n's.

that was one hell of a way to find out that two of his best friends were dating.

iii.

bakugo's jealousy only got worse after graduation.

but to be fair, that was his own fault.

he may have chilled out since their time together as first years, but he was still a headstrong ambitious hero.

they didn't go public with their relationship because bakugo figured it would be distracting to his goal.

which was a decision that he immediately regretted when he remembered just how attractive y/n was--something that other people clearly appreciated as well.

y/n got gifts, compliments, and very suggestive comments wherever he went, which did nothing but fuel bakugo's anger and displeasure.

there was a solution to this problem, and it was to let it be known to the world that y/n was his and his only.

instead of doing what normal couples do and going to an interviewer or announcing their relationship on his social media accounts, bakugo decided to--

"so... y/n," the barista looked at the name she just wrote on the cup and then back to y/n. "are you seeing anybody?"

"what's taking so fucking long?" bakugo asked as he came up behind y/n, right hand harshly meeting y/n's left ass cheek.

"ow! what the hell? there's paparazzi right outside of the window," y/n scolded, gesturing toward the crowd of people with cameras on the other side of the glass wall.

bakugo's only response was to press a kiss against y/n's lips, smirking into it as he saw a flash of light in the corner of his eye, fully aware of the fact that his hand was still on y/n's ass.

iv.

when he saw a building crumbling on top of y/n, he knew what he had to do.

he had faced a similar obstacle to this in his first year of high school, when he was up against round face--ochako. she had collected rubble that he had unknowingly provided and gathered it all up to the sky, later using it as a weapon by making it rain down on bakugo.

a building, however, had much more stone than a collection of collateral concrete that an individual collected over only a few minutes.

"y/n!" he shouted.

recreating the move from his first year, he raised his right hand and released a massive explosion--one much larger than the original maneuver.

he had succeeded for the most part. small bits of rubble rained down on them, but it was more like getting hit by hail than being buried by a boulder.

"bakugo!"

the mentioned man gritted his teeth and pressed the rough fingers of his left hand into his terribly cramped and pained right hand.

"you overdid it, you idiot!"

y/n rushed to get medical attention, and bakugo reluctantly let himself be pulled around.

he would've crudely yelled back that he didn't need help, but the worried look on y/n's face stopped him.

"i'm not gonna die, dumbass," bakugo rolled his eyes. the words were intended to come off harsher, and more like bakugo insulting a subordinate for not being able to see the obvious, but they came out closer to a soft reassurance instead.

"do that again, and i'll kill you myself," y/n glared. he looked more like an angry puppy.

"as if you could even land a hit on m--"

y/n's lips shut him up.

"even though that was the stupidest thing i've ever seen, thank you for saving me," y/n smiled, rubbing soft circles into bakugo's right hand.

"'stupidest thing you've ever seen'..." bakugo grumbled.

v.

"what the fuck are you doing?"

it's been a habit to hold hands while doing almost anything since their time together at u.a.

hell, they used to hold hands throughout basically all of high school except during hero training.

subjects like math, language, history--they didn't require both hands. they only needed to write on a piece of paper, and they only needed their dominant hands for that.

so it comes as no surprise that that habit followed them to their pro hero years, pale left hand entwined with s/t right hand as they finish their paperwork.

bakugo's confusion was prompted by y/n's sudden fascination with his right hand.

"i rarely ever give this one attention," y/n shrugged.

"it's not its own being. like a pet or a person."

the look bakugo gave y/n told him that he was the biggest dumbass in history, but y/n ignored it in favor of responding, "still a part of you i rarely get a piece of."

"i hate the way you worded that, creep..."

"you're still blushing."

"in your fucking dreams!"

+i.

going to a nice place was somewhat out of the ordinary for the two of them.

bakugo was focused on being the top hero, and being the top hero meant sacrificing a lot of time.

y/n doesn't know what changed bakugo's mind so suddenly, but he wasn't about to reject a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"the breeze is so nice," y/n breathed in the fresh air of the beach.

he had ran up to the gorgeous ocean, cold water hitting his bare legs while he tried to convince bakugo to join him.

"not up to the challenge? that's rare," y/n teased, turning his back to him and going deeper into the sea.

"oh, shut your trap! i have a damn good reason."

"yeah, i'm sure you do. you sure you aren't just cold?"

"i said shut the fuck up!"

"okay, okay," y/n complied and entertained himself with the vibrant blue waves.

"i love you," came bakugo's voice abruptly.

"that's weird, you never say it first, especially not without any form or profan--" y/n turned around to give bakugo a ridiculous look, laughing as he did, only to stop almost immediately.

"fuck y--" bakugo had to stop his habitual reflex. "marry me... dumbass?"

bakugo with a nervous tone, one knee in the sand, struggling to not get up because of the annoying shifting and imbalance, and a ring in his hands was a priceless sight to see.

"yes! yes! yes!" y/n ran back to the dry sand.

bakugo grinned and accepted the kiss but broke it off sooner than he would've liked for the fear of dropping the ring and losing it to the waves.

he slid the ring on y/n's hand with a proud smile before y/n demanded to have the other ring.

"shit, calm down," bakugo laughed, but he couldn't help but feel happy that y/n was just as ecstatic.

although he was the one to say that, bakugo's left hand struggled to stay still as y/n put the ring on bakugo's ring finger.

"i love you," y/n pressed his lips against the trembling left hand once he was done.

with the rings safely on their hands, bakugo could freely go back to enjoying the treasure that was y/n's lips.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

a/n;

a sequel exactly a month after

i like this format because i'm shit at transitions

i mean just look at the shift from iii to iv...

i had an idea for the right hand theme for a while now since the battle trials when izuku mentioned the right hook thing but i was like woah i could do it with this while writing left hand

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

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

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

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

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve 

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

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

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

*

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

[youraveragebtsstan]

A Buddie FanFic: "The Things We Never Could Say" (A Season 4, Episode 13 Epilogue)

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Buck x Eddie (Buddie), Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley & Edmundo ‘Eddie’ Diaz

Word Count: 2.3k (2,266)

Summary: Buck knew he would have to face his feelings sooner or later, but he never thought he might not get the chance. As his best friend lies in the hospital suffering from the wounds of a sniper, Buck struggles with the idea of losing the love of his life, without the possibility of saying the things he’s always wanted to say. (Events of this Fic take place after the final scene of Season 4, Episode 13. As of writing/posting this Fic, Episode 14 has not yet aired.)

AO3 (Archive Of Our Own) Link: Click Here

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

Night had come in a blur.

The sun had faded, smearing itself in the sky, until there was nothing left; not even the moon. The sky was simply dark. There was no need for Buck to look up just to know he was alone. Though, it was nothing more than a feeling… He knew.

For the past few hours, time swayed by drunkenly. Buck swore he was still standing under the sun. He breathed in the daylight, exhaling something of content when the first shot was fired. He didn’t recall hearing anything. Not the sound of the bullet rattling through the barrel nor the screams of those that cried out in a panic as they fled around him. His focus was occupied by more important things.

The look of confusion on Eddie’s face burned, etched in his mind. As his body jerked at the push, he fell limp. A fearful stare gleamed in his eyes as he laid on the ground; the hand that reached out as his blood pooled around him… his blood. Buck could still feel the warmth of Eddie’s blood as it splattered on the side of his face; soaking into his hair, it melted onto his shirt. The stains had already dried, cracking on his skin.

Blinking into reality, the sounds of the faucet drew him in. His head hung low in the bathroom mirror. Leaning against the sink, he watched the water flow down the drain for what seemed like an eternity.

How did he get here?

All Buck could remember was climbing in the ambulance, sitting by Eddie’s side. He remembered holding onto the gurney as they rushed him through the hospital doors. Chaos ensued as doctors and nurses shouted to each other, carting in other victims one by one. He remembered sitting in the waiting room, eventually pacing the halls as his adrenaline struggled to catch up with his surroundings. As he tried to trek through the mess that was his thoughts, he began to get overwhelmed. When did he leave the hospital? He was too afraid to leave; afraid he would miss something important. No, he wouldn’t have left on his own accord. He couldn’t have. Did someone bring him home? He couldn’t imagine driving himself, not in his condition. He was disoriented and absent-minded. Had he told anyone about Eddie being shot? Did Maddie know? Chim? What about Christopher?

Right, he still had to tell Christopher… He remembered calling Carla shortly after arriving at the hospital; blood smearing on his screen as he swiped to find her number. Thankfully, she and Christopher spent the day together, visiting the park and an ice cream parlor or two. Buck breathed a little easier, knowing Christopher had a few more hours of joy remaining. Carla, being the kind woman she was, assured Buck she would stay by the younger’s side until he went home to clean himself up and pack a bag for the next few nights.

Right, he needed to get moving.

Taking a shallow breath, he glanced toward the shower, eyeing the handle. Buck struggled as he tried to get his feet to move. Glued to the ground, he moved not a single inch. All he needed to do was turn the handle. He had done this countless times, hell he somehow managed to turn the sink on, so why was now so hard? Rolling his neck in frustration, he caught a glimpse of his reflection; he nearly jumped out of his skin. His hair was matted, shirt drenched in sweat and blood. His skin was dirtied in debris; eyes red and glossy, sunken into their sockets. He looked nothing like himself. In fact, he had made up his mind the man before him was a mirage. The pit in his stomach gaped deeper.

Pushing off the sink, he made his way up to his room. He threw open the closet doors, yanking a couple shirts form their hangers. Tossing them in a bag along with a few pairs of boxers and socks he plucked from his drawers, he left his room in disarray. Like a tornado let loose upon his home, nothing was done with care. He felt as if time were slipping through his fingers. Dropping the bag to the floor, he fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. He couldn’t wait to get this thing off his body. He found it hard to move with it on. It weighed heavy on his chest. Unclasping the final button, he crumpled it in his hands, throwing it in the trash can next to his bed. His breath trembled as he breathed in. Though the shackles had been removed, he still trapped; the metal rattling in his lungs. The dried blood on his skin cracked as it crawled along his face.

Buck tried to shake the feeling. It wasn’t real, how could it be?

Trotting down the stairs, he raced to the sink, wanting to drown the sensation in the water. With each step, it’s grip around his throat grew tighter.

Plunging his head under the bathroom faucet, he gasped for air. Cupping his hands, he scrubbed his face, mashing his nose and cheeks in abstract circles. It burned the blood away like acid. His lashes were heavy as they dripped, water falling from his hair, down his nose and back. Small puddles could be found along the floor. Buck braced himself on the edge of the sink. Blowing water past his lips, his breathing lay labored. He gripped the sink tighter; fingers turning a muted shade of white.

Soon, a cry burst from his lips. Through gritted teeth, it resembled a groan of agony. Shaking uncontrollably, tears breached their waterlines. Falling against the wall, he slid to the floor, curling his knees to his chest. He had been sleepwalking. Numb for the remainder of the day, his body functioned purely on autopilot. Finally, his emotions gave in; exhausted and overwhelmed, he cried.

There was no one around to comfort him. No one he could call to ease his racing mind. The one person he needed the most, was the one who left him here alone. He needed Eddie. After all, Eddie was supposed to be there. He promised to have his back, just as Buck swore to have his. He tried to think of Eddie. In a different moment other than today, he played any memory he could think of. Something that would save him from himself. As Buck laid his head against the wall, he stared mindlessly into the faucet.

Funny enough, his thoughts dragged him to another heartbreak. He remembered how he felt the night of the tsunami, ringing and twisting the bands of Christopher’s glasses in his hands. He had spent hours wandering various medical tents, calling out the boy’s name to the point of  blistered feet and a scratchy throat. Tears overflowed his eyes as he fought to look Eddie in his… those brown eyes he adored so much. His heart exploded with relief the moment he saw Christopher back in Eddie’s arms safe and sound; knees buckling underneath him. Wrapped in Eddie’s arms is where things seemed the safest.

He remembered how angry Eddie was when he filed the lawsuit against the department. How Eddie saw red that day in the grocery store. The hurt in his voice masked by rage, as he clenched his fists by his side- Buck swore he was going to hit him… He wouldn’t have mind. The rattle of a fist against his jaw would have felt better than the hole in his heart. The hole Eddie dug deeper the more he ignored him; declining his calls and leaving his texts on read. Though he never admitted it, he cried on occasion. While everyone else ran off on calls, Buck often locked himself in the showers, stood with his back against the door as tears streamed down his face. Drawing a wedge between him and his best friend, he hated his pride that led him to isolation. He hated being alone…

So when Eddie was there for him after his world came crashing down, it was no wonder he couldn’t find the words to describe his appreciation. After 12 years of deceit finally coming to light, Buck found himself in a screaming match with his parents. He felt like a child again. Betrayed and neglected, Buck rambled on and on for what seemed like days at a time- Eddie was there to listen. He made him feel heard. Listening to his various monologues through FaceTime, even as Buck began to blame himself, doubling back on his words and dismissing his own feelings, Eddie always made him feel valid.

Eddie was always there… except now. Why couldn’t he be there now?

Why was he laying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life with IVs and monitors taped to him? It seemed so minute, a shot to the shoulder. If only they had rushed Eddie out of there like he begged, like he pleaded, he would have been fine. There would have been no need for him to pack a bag preparing to spend countless nights between a couch and the hospital. He wouldn’t need to tell Christopher his father’s not coming home tonight, if he came home at all. If only they let him pull Eddie to safety, things would have been fine… But instead first responders hid behind their cars, piling on top of each other, holding him down while Eddie laid in the middle of the street bleeding.

God, he had lost so much blood… Why did they waste so much time?

Time… Buck began to think rationally for a moment, his hopes growing high. Maybe if he showered quick enough, he could go back to the hospital and sit for a while- not for hours like he had before, but maybe an hour or two before Carla went home for the night. Though, he would be wasting away in the hallway; knee bouncing, rattling the chairs next to him. He probably would have worn his nails down to nubs before the doctor came back with any news. Buck pulled his thumb from his mouth at the thought; an old nervous habit rearing its ugly head. He clawed at his jeans, finding other use for his hands. Another the image of Eddie came to mind. Reaching out his hand as he laid on his side, Buck reached further, hoping he could feel his touch only feeling the rough touch of denim.

If only this once, he could hold Eddie’s hand.

He wanted to be by his side, waiting until he woke up… He wanted to be the first thing Eddie would see- not just in the hospital, but all the time. On the weekends, when they were both rarely off from work, he wanted to wake up next to Eddie; seeing him roll over in the sheets, sun shining in his face. On lazy afternoons, when Eddie sometimes napped at the fire station, Buck wanted to see that moment again. The man curled up on the couch, arms crossed over his chest, face plastered in bliss. He wanted to wrap his arms around Eddie as he cooked; with music playing in the background, dancing as he often did when he made dinner. Buck wanted to hold him in his arms, his head laying on his shoulder. That would be his own piece of peace.

The more Buck thought, the more he realized the two men had created a special type of love. Sure it was undefined, maybe even unconventional, but it was love nonetheless. As the wise words of a man he once met ran in his ears, Buck found himself laughing. Tears dried on his cheeks, nose no longer running, he remained laying against the wall, his laugh deep and therapeutic. He used to long for a love like this. Hoping for the day he would stumble upon it, unaware such a sacred love could only be made, molded with one’s own two hands- and By God, they had done it! He loved everything that ever was about Eddie Diaz. He had known for quite some time, the feeling of being in love. Constantly hiding his true feelings and for what reason? It was times like this, he wished he hadn’t. If only he had told him before…

That’s it, he thought to himself. As the light bulb flickered on above his head, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. He cleared his throat with a start. Standing, he flipped the handle on his shower wall, water spitting from the head as a result. Staring in the mirror, reminisce of himself began to reappear. He raised his chin, breathing deep. You got this. There was no need in holding himself down, torturing himself with a nonsensical life without Eddie. He didn’t have time to marvel over ‘what ifs’ or hypotheticals. Reality was now; a breath of fresh air compared to the sadness he had been drowning himself in. From that moment on, he would only allow himself to think fact, for fiction was too painful.

Fact, Eddie was going to be fine. The surgery would go well, and he would return home in no time.

Fact, Eddie would tuck Christopher into bed again. He would once again read his son his favorite stories as he drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Fact, when Eddie did open his eyes, Buck was going to be there… Sitting by his bedside, he would be holding his hand, ready to say the things he never could say.

Completed On: May. 23th 2021

Written By: Carmen Feaster (YourAverageBTSStan)

Feel Free To Reblog- Just Give Credit

[xofanfics]

String - Part VI

Prologue | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Baekhyun x Female Reader FT. SEHUN

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You find yourself in a friends-with-benefits situation with your best friend. You have no business falling for him, but your heart begs to differ.

Baekhyun hadn’t heard from you since that night. You hadn’t responded to his text and he had no idea whether you’d listened to his voicemail. And Evie and Sadie were no help either. They said that you’d approach him when you were ready but he was impatient. 

Guilt pulled at Baekhyun as if someone was tugging the bottom of his shirt. Even though he had started seeing Kira like he wanted, he still felt pretty guilty about it all. He hadn’t exactly done anything wrong but he knew that he fucked up, morally. It was fucked up to treat you like that, pulling you on a string until he decided what he wanted. You deserved better than that. And he was a hypocrite. He knew that much. 

He felt uncomfortable knowing how he left things with you and he wanted to talk to you. He didn’t know the things he needed to say and he wasn’t sure where to begin. All he knew is that he wanted to talk to you. Things probably wouldn’t go back to normal, even if he tried his absolute best. 

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun looked up from his plate. “Huh?”

“I said what are you thinking about?”

“Just about an old friend.”

Kira frowned. “Did something happen?”

He sighed. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Kira didn’t press him about it and he was grateful. Guilt ate at him further as he realized that he wasn’t able to pay his own girlfriend the attention she deserved. His thoughts, somehow, would always shift toward you even in the presence of others.

She didn’t know what was bothering Baekhyun but it was bothering her. Lately, he seemed a little down. Things hadn’t changed too much but he always looked so...troubled. Kira wanted to make him feel better but she didn’t know where to begin. Did he even trust her enough to tell her what was going on in his life? Did he feel like he couldn’t be open with her? Was she not doing enough, as his girlfriend?

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. She gave it a light squeeze because it was the only comfort she could give him.

*

You woke up and found yourself staring at the white ceiling as your phone’s alarm went off on the nightstand. You rolled over and shut off the blaring noise. As you sat up in bed, you let out a yawn. You got dressed and started getting ready for your 9AM shift at the waxing salon. The best part about being a receptionist was getting a discount on waxes and not having to do much. This job was a way to put extra money in your pocket and to study and do homework in between the small tasks you had to do to maintain a suitable environment for customers.

You got lost in your skincare routine as you found yourself thinking about Baekhyun again. You hadn’t seen him since that night and you avoided all contact with him within the friend group. Being that they were with Baekhyun a lot, you hadn’t seen the guys much lately. You couldn’t help but feel like the friend group was divided and that some of it was partially your fault. 

You thought to yourself, If I see Baekhyun again, I think I could at least say hi…

Sehun occupied your thoughts most of the time but there were times when you gave in to temptation and your thoughts shifted to things like Baekhyun’s award-winning smile. Sehun was a gentleman. To be honest, he was everything you wanted in a guy. He let you know from the beginning that he had intentions of being in a relationship. It was rare to get that much information from a man these days. 

He was considerate and he cared about you. And it showed. And when you hung out again last week, things were just as relaxed as last time. You felt like you could be yourself. The two of you went to get gelato in Little Italy, walked to the park, and talked for hours. And when you left each other, he didn’t try to come back to your apartment with you and he didn’t try to kiss you either. You were so used to guys rushing into things that this seemed a bit strange. It was great to meet a man with pure intentions.

Sehun would ask you if you wanted to Facetime a couple times. He’d ask you about your day, about what you ate, about what you were learning in class. He was asking these things because he genuinely wanted to know you. He wanted to know your thoughts, your ideas, and opinions. He wanted to dig deep into you, pulling out as much information as he could. He wanted to be able to paint the perfect picture of you, with his eyes closed shut. 

You smiled to yourself as you got off of the train. You had twenty minutes to get to work from the train station. It only took five minutes from the train but you liked to come a bit early to get coffee. Your phone buzzed in your hands. Sehun left you a voice message.

“Hey, Y/N. Good morning! Hope you slept well last night and that you have a good day at work...I’m working from home today, thank God. I’m sick of my boss hovering over me while I’m trying to get work done..” He let out a chuckle. “Anyway, I can’t wait to see you later tonight.”

The two of you planned to go to a jazz lounge tonight. Neither of you had ever been and it seemed like a fun date. That was one thing you enjoyed about Sehun. He was always down to try new things with you. Everything you were experiencing with Sehun felt so new, so exciting. You never felt quite like this before.

You smiled at the sound of Sehun’s voice and, as you were about to send a voice note back, you happened to look up and find Baekhyun walking toward you. You were sure he hadn’t noticed you yet and you hoped to keep it that way. You kept walking, trying your best to remain unnoticed. As you walked past, you were sure he caught a glimpse of you because you could feel someone’s eyes glued onto you. It took everything in you not to turn around and look back at him. 

You’d said that maybe you were at a point in your life where you could gather the courage and greet him if you were in the same room. Here you were, practically running away from him instead. You weren’t ready to cross paths with him; not right now. And to make matters worse, you looked a mess in your barely brushed bun and a not-so-special outfit. You’d imagined that when you eventually did cross paths, that you’d look good that day. 

You walked past him and didn’t look back once.

*

Baekhyun got off the train feeling more tired than usual. He’d had a bit of trouble sleeping last night. He inched up the staircase slowly and when he looked up to see what the holdup was, he saw that it was a mother struggling to carry a stroller. Eventually, once someone realized that maybe they should help, another woman helped her up. Once the staircase congestion was cleared, Baekhyun was able to start moving. 

As he headed toward the exit, he happened to look up from his phone and to his left. He had to do a double take to make sure it was you. It was. He knew your height and body size like the back of his hand. Even though he hadn’t been friends with you for a full year, he got to know you well for the past few months...until all of this drama came crashing into his life. He was at fault, he knew. This was a mess that he’d unintentionally created by not being straightforward and not being honest with himself or the people around him.

He didn’t know what an ideal world would look like. He wanted to be with Kira, no matter what. But, sometimes, his heart tugged toward you. He cared about you and he honestly missed you. He missed hanging out with you. He missed the simple things about his relationship with you like waiting for you to get out of class so you could eat lunch with him or helping you study for your exam, with flashcards. He missed simple things like FaceTime calls in the middle of the night when you had trouble sleeping and the fact that he could tell you anything. Part of him wished that he’d never crossed that line with you. He hated the fact that you weren’t in his life at all. Would you have been better off as just friends from the very beginning?

Baekhyun did see you, even if you didn’t know it. He saw you in all your glory. He saw you and your bun that you wore with the pale pink scrunchie that you loved. He saw you walking toward the University Place exit which could only mean that you were going to work. He remembered going there to pick you up from work last semester and watching you fidget at the desk, eagerly waiting for your coworker to come in and take over the desk duties.

He did notice you and a piece of his heart chipped away as he realized that a) you saw him and didn’t care to speak or b) you genuinely didn’t see him. A million possibilities and harsh realities flew through his head. He knew that you wouldn’t go out of your way to talk to him but had you just straight-up ignored him, like he didn’t exist?

Did the voicemail he left mean nothing to you? Did you listen to it at all? Did you delete it without even bothering to listen to it? He had so many questions and no answers. Were you done with him? Had he ruined the friendship the two of you once had forever? He felt a lot of things but his heart felt bruised, more than anything.

Was it really over?

Baekhyun wasn’t sure what kind of relationship he could have with you at this point but he knew that he didn’t want to live in a world without you in it. But on the other hand, he knew that he couldn’t have his cake and eat it, too. 

*

You met Evie and Sadie in their dorm room after your shift. You still had a couple hours before you had planned on meeting Sehun. You put your bags down and sat down on the fluffy rug that lay between the two beds. 

Your friends had started filling you in on a campus event tonight, where some of the school’s cultural organizations were going to have a dance off. You hadn’t planned on going since you made plans with Sehun but your friends didn’t seem to want to let it go. 

“So you’re really not going to come to the Battle of the Orgs thing tonight?” asked Sadie, sitting down on the floor next to you.

You shook your head. “Well, I wasn’t really planning on it...”

Evie chimed in, turning away from her laptop and toward you. “Drew said it’d be really cool if you’d come. He’s hardly seen you since everything that happened with Baek. He’s performing...and the best part is that Baekhyun won’t be in the crowd cause he’s performing too.”

You raised your eyebrow, a curious expression taking over. “Since when?”

“Since like three weeks ago when one of the other guys dropped out and Drew begged him to join the lineup,” answered Evie. “Drew bugged the hell out of him and eventually Baekhyun agreed to it. You know how annoying he can be...”

“I saw Baekhyun in the train station this morning,” you said. “I was telling myself this morning that, if I saw him in the street, maybe I’d say hi...but I walked by and pretended I didn’t see him.”

“Would you really have said something?” asked Sadie.

You shrugged. “Probably not. But what would I even say to him?”

“Go fuck yourself is a good start,” Evie suggested. The three of you laughed for a moment before her expression became serious. “He really does seem to be dating that girl though.”

“Did you meet her?” you asked.

“For a minute,” Sadie said. 

Evie added, “Baekhyun stopped by in the library and she was with him. So he introduced her...as his girlfriend.”

“What does she look like?”

“She looks mixed. She’s black and Japanese, I heard.”

“What’s she like?”

“Y/N, what does it matter? We met her for two seconds, in passing. Even if I had an answer for you, I wouldn’t tell you. You’re seeing Sehun, right? Why are you making Baekhyun more relevant than he is?” 

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that your friend wasn’t going to give you more information. But, deeper down, you knew that she was right. It wasn’t healthy to ask those kinds of questions or to do things like look at Baekhyun’s snapchat stories hoping to find out more about this girl. It hurt that he had moved on. You wished that you were in her shoes. It felt unfair that this girl came into the picture and threw Baekhyun off course. You thought about what he said about having intentions of asking you out. If it was true, then the appearance of this Kira girl had ruined it. In a way, she had ruined the relationship that could’ve been yours. 

But it wasn’t fair to put the blame on this girl. You didn’t know her and she didn’t know you. Sometimes you felt jealous but then you had to remind yourself that you deserved better and that if Baekhyun truly wanted to be with you in the first place, he would’ve been.

In all honesty, you should’ve listened to Evie’s advice in the first place. You should’ve known something was up when she asked if you were sure that Baekhyun really liked you. Maybe you should’ve questioned things sooner. Maybe if you’d brought it up sooner, the story wouldn’t have played out quite like this. Maybe you would’ve had the answers you needed much sooner. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

You bit your lip. “Of course he’s not relevant. I’m seeing someone new and I’m moving on...just like he is!”

Part of you wanted to go to the Battle of the Orgs. You wanted to go because you genuinely wanted to see Drew perform and, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted to see Baekhyun perform too. You never really saw him dance like this before. According to your friends, the Korean Student Association was going to perform a couple k-pop songs. 

You didn’t know if you were ready to see Baekhyun in person, even if it was from a distance. Hell, you couldn’t even face him in the train station this morning. You just kept walking like a coward. You had imagined seeing Baekhyun again for the first time a million different ways. All of the scenarios you imagined in your head were nonchalant, petty, or neutral. You’d imagined scenarios where you hit him, scenarios where you threw shade at him, and scenarios like this morning—you walking past him, but without a care in the world. And you’d also imagined delusional scenarios where he explained that he didn’t want that girl anymore, and that you were the one he wanted. But you knew, at this point in time, that it wouldn’t happen.

You knew deep down that the only way to truly get over Baekhyun was to finally face him. That didn’t mean that you had to be friends or that things were going to go back to how they were. Shit, how could they after all that you’d been through? Seeing Baekhyun in person didn’t mean that you were committing to anything specific. It just meant that you’d be in the same room, breathing the same air. No harm in that, right? 

You had to face Baekhyun sooner or later. You weren’t obligated to accept his apology or to be friends. The only way to get over him was to acknowledge his existence. Maybe you could get to a point where you could have a conversation. Maybe, just maybe, you could be acquaintances or something. But for now, you decided to just let things play out. You’d just be yourself. Maybe you wouldn’t even have to interact with Baekhyun in the first place.

You decided that you were going to go to the event tonight. You’d go to the event, support Drew, and then leave to go to the jazz bar with Sehun afterward. This solution was perfect, for everyone.

***

A/N: This is kind of a filler chapter but the next chapter will be longer and have the drama everyone’s craving, I promise! It’s worth the wait. And thank you to everyone who has supported me. And shoutout to my bestie for helping me through these ideas and giving me some much needed motivation!

Tag List: @shesdreaminginoverdose​ @multistania​ @jeonchan26​ @myonlyaurora​ @keloiu​ @xxluckydreamsxx​ @multifandomeras​ @blanknearvana​ @jddcfc-blog​ @jummyjammy​ @mintaemark​ @kokobyunee​ @fortheloveofinfinite​ @littleflowercrown13​ @wayvexo​ @to-all-the-stories-i-love​ @ggaayyyong​ @hyuniebaby​ @giriboyshogu​ @xyukheix​ @jekylluv​ @forbyun​ @endzii23​ @puppyeoliepop​ @aa-ronpa​ @serendipitydreamsss​ @princemicorazon​ @sjkings​ @marimsun @baekhypnotized

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[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 16

////TW SA mentioned/hinted at/// Depiction of a panic attack as well

The hospital was a buzz with energy, which was a bit weird considering how small the town was. Were there really this many patients today? You honestly didn't know, hell for the longest time you weren't even sure this was a hospital when you moved here.

That was changed recently, like very recent. Last night in fact when you had been forced awake by medical staff trying to determine your condition. That sadist doctor of yours kept a small smile on their face the entire time you groaned about wanting sleep. They had simply tutted at you saying you needed to be monitored for several hours before they could let you rest.

Thankfully you hadn't seen them today but it was only ten thirty. A lovely nurse had been checking in with you all morning, even before you woke up. He'd come in when you had buzzed after waking up in pain and given you a dose of your medicine through your IV drip. When you questioned him about where you were he seemed to still in concern. Worried that you hadn't remembered your accident that lead you here.

After assuring him and giving him a play by play of your day yesterday, giving him the assumed day, and answering who the current president was he let you off the hook. Mark, your nurse, had been very keen to tell you the Cowell family is in charge of your care and will be here later in the day to visit with you. Granted you actually feel up to visitors. Which you take as code for 'would you like me to deny visitors?'.

You let him know you'll be fine with visits after ten. Knowing full well how fast news can travel in the small town it's only a matter of time before a parade of Hornets meander through to check in on you. First you wanted to grab your bearings before being thrown to your overly concerned friends.

Or maybe they weren't overly concerned after all you did just experience a home invasion that left you hospitalized. Simply being concerned is a natural reaction to your situation. But your head hurts just thinking about anything right now. So, you'd like to take a moment for yourself, have a bit of time to process everything.

Either way you'd been right, news travels fast in this small town. Nearly all the lodge residents had been waiting for an hour to see you when ten rolled around. At ten on the dot Aubrey, Barclay, and Jake stormed into your room and surrounded you like piranhas in a frenzy. You looked towards Dani, Hollis, Kirby, and several other lodge staff members for help only to get small smiles and a shake of the head.

They wouldn't be helping you out of this anytime soon. You just had to endure the genuine concern and affection from your friends. Luckily for your splitting head the visit only lasts thirty minutes before everyone has to leave. Life still goes on even when a loved one is in the hospital. With several promises to return tomorrow and requests that you take it easy the rambunctious group was gone.

You relax into your bed before turning on the TV and finding something mind numbing to watch. The food network works! You hope Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives is in the roll today. You're in luck as it starts playing right after the commercials.

The voice of your doctor is getting closer to your room. Great if you weren't already upset by the atrocity happening with the pizza at that restaurant then you are surely in a sour mood now.

“Well sir we hope you can reason with the child. They have simply fought us each time we've brought up the tests. We'd say it was mildly impressive that they held such coherence last night, had it not been for the headache it has given us.”

Oh here we fucking go again.

“I don't need the tests.”

No one had made it through the threshold before you spoke. Everyone froze at your cold tone. Until the doctor makes a motion towards you.

“As you can see, they're very stubborn.”

“I'm not stubborn you're just not listening to me. I haven't had sex in a year so I don't need a pregnancy test and I just got bashed around last night. I don't need an invasive search done.” You ignore the Cowell family as you speak to the doctor, “I find it concerning how keen you are to do a rape test on me even though I've repeatedly told you I just got banged up in the scuffle. Nothing more.”

The doctor still has their small smile placed just ever so on their face. There's something really off about them. Even under normal circumstances you hate hospitals and doctors. Mainly because they never listen to you about your issues, something you know would be even worse if you had 'Autistic' labeled in a medical file. But something about this doctor seriously rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps you two knew each other in  previous life and it was coming back to bite you in the ass now.

“Doc, the kid says they don' need a test, then they don' need the test.” Big Jo says breaking the staring contest between you and the doctor as they slide their gaze away from you to look at Big Jo.

You take no little satisfaction from seeing their stupid smile finally leave their face. It isn't long before it's replaces and they bound over to you. Poking and prodding you, jabbing with a lot more force than they should need to. After a small adjustment to your IV they clear you for this check up and allow the Cowells to have their visit with you.

“Something's off about them.” you say cautiously after the family steps into the room.

Big Jo sighs, “Ye' but they took care 'o ya last night kid.” Ushering his family through he closes the door behind them only to turn back to you with a stern expression, “so ya better play nice with 'em got it?”

Fighting back the intense urge to roll your eyes you nod, before turning to Little Jo who's made her way over to your bedside in her hands several thick graphic novels. The same ones your store started to carry a few weeks back. Looking up from the books you see her watery and puffy eyes. What she takes from Big Jo in personality she takes from her mother in empathy.

“I-I-I yip-yip I thought yip you might get bored so I yup wanted to let you borr-yip-borrow these.”

When she places the books onto the small table beside your bed you can see the tremors that rake through her hands. Choosing not to comment or bring any attention on the tween's obvious nerves you settle for an ice breaker.

“Thanks, don't know how much more crimes against pizza I can stomach.” motioning to the TV where a man is making paper thin crust on pizza to have a pizza that cooks in a minute.

That's not pizza it's cooked cheese and tomato sauce with toppings. Not pizza at all.

Jo nods softly, her normal enthusiasm no where to be found today. A pang rips through your chest as you watch her eyes cast downwards. With no clue how to help her feel better you have to swallow the sigh in your throat to not make the air heavier than it already is. Dia and Big Jo aren't much help either when you spare them a glance.

Dia herself is wiping her eyes with a tissue and sniffles escape her every few seconds. Not much is different bout Big Jo, he may have more prominent eye bags today but you weren't going to judge him for not sleeping. Even under normal circumstances you didn't have ground to stand on. Mark mentioned Big Jo was the one who found you from what he'd over heard at the nurses' station this morning.

Knowing this made the foreboding feeling in your stomach grow. The way he's looking at you with his cold stoney stare-he's not even really looking at you more through you. But his stare pierces you and sends the pit in your stomach lower than you thought possible. If it wasn't so chilly in the room you'd probably be sweating right now.

“Dia, why don' ya take Josephine home.”

Hearing this you lift your hand up to Little Jo before she has a chance to scurry out of the room with her mother. She looks at your hand and then back to you before launching herself into you with a crushing hug. Gravity doesn't help your case as the child's entire weight is on your prone form, you hadn't sat up when they came into the room.

“Get better soon.” the pain was worth it to hear the small plea. She at least felt a little better if she could talk without her vocal tic interrupting her.

After you pat her on the back and promise to rest up she's out the door with her sobbing mother. It's a quiet few moments after the door shuts before Jo takes a step towards your bed. If the pit in your stomach went any lower you're sure you'd be able to see your insides. The hulking man takes a seat in the chair next to your bed sighing as he leans back rubbing his face.

“Tell me what happened kid.”

You relay the events of your day to him. How you and Toby had gone out of town for slushies, gotten caught in so much traffic that you felt it was a punishment from God himself. The funny feeling you had after dropping Toby off, the one that said just to go straight home. And how you had a feeling someone had just been in your home. You left nothing out about the altercation with ski mask. That wasn't saying much because you only remember the ski mask and how you tried to claw their face off. When Jo pressed you for a physical description you weren't any help. Having been too caught up in survival mode you only registered the stupid frowny face on the ski mask as being a key detail...but any fool could laser transfer a decal. And the same went for that painted mask, anyone could grab an art store face mask and block paint some black over the features.

Vaguely you recall them wearing a jacket. Had it been red, yeah like a burnt burgundy maybe? It wasn't a lot to go on and seemed to frustrate Jo even more, if the pinching of his nose was anything to go by.

“You are aware of the situation, yea?” his accent has dropped, he's speaking in a more neutral tone and inflection. This might be the most rattling moment of the week-and it's only Tuesday.

He isn't looking at you so you give a quiet 'yes sir' in response.

“Kid your car got broken into on my lot. Your home gets invaded and you get bashed around/ All this a few months after my other front end girlie disappears in the middle of the night.”

A lump forms in your throat at the mention of Bambi. You can see the pattern he's stringing together, honestly you saw it long before today. You'd just been sloppy and took too much time to gather evidence of your stalkers' existence.  Bambi's disappearance wasn't voluntary and it looks like you may be next.

“Called Lydia already and we're upping the security at the cottage. Until I'm satisfied with the level of security you will be staying with us.”

“I co-cou” the lump was hard to speak around, “I can't impose like that, it's fine I'll-”

“You'll just what sleep in your car become an easier target? Go gallivanting to towns miles away where no one knows you.” his harsh words cause you to sputter, “For Christ's sake YN we don't know who we're dealing with right now!”

You don't make eye contact with Jo. You can't make eye contact he's raised his voice. You're lucky you're laying down or else you'd be rocking back and forth right now.

“Unless you have a clue who's out there and the police catch them, this decision is final. This isn't up for debate YN.” he finishes harshly

Even though he's finished you still can't look at him, your nerves are so shot and all you can do is bite your lip.

“Look I...I'd feel a lot more comfortable knowing you weren't out on your own while this gets handled. Josephine looks up to ya like an older sibling, she'd be crushed if you ended up like Bambi. Same goes for Dia. And I don't want that for my girls.” he says softly, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir.”

With that Jo leaves you in the room after informing you that they'd be back to check you out of the hospital tomorrow. And that you could expect a visit from Sheriff Owens at some point before then.

Even after Jo leaves it feels like someone has your heart in a vice. And every few beats they squeeze it, constricting the flow of freshly oxidized blood to your body. For good measure they try to yank the organ straight from your chest cavity but just end up bruising your rib cage.

Oh God you can't breathe, you're trying but you can't tell if you are or aren't anymore. The beeping of you heart monitor is increasing with each second. It's annoying ringing is too much and you need to rip the cords from you immediately. That just makes the ringing worse as it flat lines not finding any beating or rhythm under your skin.

Soon you're swarmed with a team of nurses trying to settle you down in your panic induced haze. Their grabbing hands and forceful touches burn your skin and light a fire that travels through your veins; and only serves to make you thrash more. Taking a swing at the nurse who holds a needle you continue your struggle against the other bodies holding you down as she stumbles away.

A few nurses rush in from the door to help her, not that you notice.

So many of the sounds are merging together and you can't understand anything. From the shrill beep of the heart monitor, the voices calling out at various pitches, footsteps. Everything forms into one gigantic frantic pitch in your already fried mind.

A growl rips through the room, you can feel the vibration of it all over you. Did that come from you?

In an instant all hands are off of your panting form and just before you can sit up a deep pressure is applied to your torso. Warmth seeps into you as the pressure lowers itself onto your body. Effectively ending your meltdown and lulling you into a dissociative state.

Floating is the only way you can describe it. The sensation of weightlessness and a gentle rocking caused by the adrenaline trying to defuse itself back into the body. Or the foggy haze that clouds your mind as you try to remember what just happened. Trying to rational the series of events and this outcome. But nothing comes to you except more brain fog. A confusing storm of frustration and vulnerability hits you. And you are left powerless to do anything. You can't kick your legs or scream as much as you want to.

The weight on top of you is forcing a calm to wash over you while the emotions inside wish to break free like a whirlwind. Your distress kick starting the whirlwind back up again only to die like a camp fire in a thunderstorm when you can't get any sort of momentum to your tantrum.

You can only loose yourself to the fogginess drifting further away from your psychical body. Completely unaware of the world around you as it washes away into nothingness.

When the floating feeling finally lifts you have to blink to shake off the remaining stupor. You're able to tell there is still a heavy weight on top of you but also something holding down your left hand. You turn away from the wall that you've been staring blankly at for hours, if your sore neck is anything to go by, and see Connor perking up at your movement.

“Hey bud,” you raise a hand to ruffle his ear and he lays his big head back onto your chest. “hey Tobes.” voice cracking as you greet the man you assume is holding your hand in a death grip, not once looking up from Connor.

There's a tight squeeze on your hand and you have to close your eyes and take a minute to collect yourself before turning to face him. The last thing you remember before drifting off was a group of nurses trying to sedate you. Having no clue what went on after that and when Toby came in you're preparing for the worst. Finally facing him you pause when you make eye contact.

“Jesus! What happened to-to-to you!?”

When you'd last seen him you'd dropped Toby off in the same shape you got him. Now he's sporting a heavily swollen black eye, one that looks pretty bade considering his nose bridge is also swelling a bit. It almost looks like it's pulsing. The dark purple bruise and deep red bleeding from under it to spread away from the injury is such a drastic contrast to his weirdly grayish complexion. You aren't sure if the black eye is actually that bad or if it just looks that way due to Toby's lack of melanin.

“Tim and I got into a fight.” his one good eye cuts to the side, “Barkclay had to split us up. Drove me here to get it checked out, it's fine.” He's dismissing it, they probably can't figure out if his eye really is fine right now, since he can't feel pain and that thing looks tightly swollen shut.

“Barclay.” is the only thing you can manage to say. Your brain wasn't prepared for most things right now and it's having trouble processing the gnarly injury mixed with complete nonchalance.

His lips pull back into a smile and not one you've seen from him before. Sure you've pulled a couple genuine mirth filled smiles out of him, or seen his teasing smirks, or bashful shy smiles when you've been out with others. But this smile, if you could even call it that-it was more like he was barring his teeth. Toby looked ready for another fight or like he was a feral predator about to rip out it's prey's jugular. There's a brief flash of a image that pops into your mind's eye, one of Toby's bloodstained face with this exact expression, teeth soaked red with blood and chunks of flesh in between . A chill runs through you at the thought. Had Connor not been laying on top of you, you would have shivered.

The instant you squeeze Toby's hand, the smile wipes off his face and he stares down at your interlocked hands. He returns the gesture before bringing his other hand over. Looking up at you through his eyelashes he flips your hand and when your expression doesn't change and you don't pull away he begins to play with your fingers.

“What was the fight about?”

“I don't have to answer that.” his tone is short and clipped.

You don't press the subject, obviously Toby doesn't want to talk about it. And you're fine with that, anyway if the fight was bad enough for Barclay to need to break it up and he drove Toby here you can assume Tim instigated and is probably getting kicked back out into the RV with no AC. As bad as it sounds you could care less. Toby's your friend not Tim, you only care if Toby's ok and while he may have a very fucked up eye in the future, right now he seems like normal Toby. A bit more irritated and on edge but that's normal after a stressful day. Hell you punched a nurse a few hours ago.

“What happened to you?”

There's a small part of you that wants to sass Toby, that you don't have to answer that. Thankfully the rational side reminds you that fight with a roommate is very different than having been beaten in a home invasion. Once again retelling your story but this time starting after you dropped Toby off. No need in going into as much detail as you went into with Jo or how much you'll need to go into with the sheriff. Toby's hands would grip yours tightly throughout your recounting. It's one of the reasons you didn't go into a ton of detail. Understanding your friend is barely holding on by  a string on his good days you aren't about to load your stress along with his already eventful day.

“You can't stay there alone.” he says after you finish the recap.

“Uh duh? Like Jo's already ordered me under house arrest at his house.”

It's like the tension leaks out of him like air leaving a balloon with the way he deflates after you say that. His grip loosens on you hand and he goes back to idly playing with your fingers.

“Good...that's good.” he nods to himself.

In the silence of this hospital room with his service dog on you instead of attending to his clear anxiety ridden form, you realize Toby's a lot more caring than his exterior lets on. The brunette might not wear his heart on his sleeve but it's easy to see it once you know what you're looking for. In this moment as battered and bruised as he is, even the potential possibility of loosing function in his left eye, he's more concerned with you. Whether it's low self worth or just how he treats friends you'll have to find out later.

“Hey...Tobias, I'm here y'know?” you start to sit up waving off a pecking Connor. Once you're far enough up you retract from Toby's grip, which he does fight you on a little. And you reach out further to his bicep, you can't quite reach his shoulder in this position.

“I'm ok Tobes, I'm here.” for some reason 'Tobias' doesn't sound right for this moment.

Toby doesn't give much of a reaction which is fine since you weren't really expecting one. He places his hand over yours for a moment before bringing it back into his grip and fixates on playing with your fingers once again.

With a smile you go to pet Connor with you free hand, hoping Toby might shake himself out of this funk. After a bit of petting you grow restless with the lack of stimulation and ask Toby to pass you on of the graphic novels Little Jo left for you.

It's easier than you thought reading with one hand would be, especially since you can prop the book on Connor who doesn't seem to mind. Pup is resting across your legs now that both humans in the room are stable enough to function without his intervention.

When you finish the first book Toby speaks up, eye still focused on your hand in his. And you find out that although the series isn't his normal thing he did enjoy the art style and a few of the jokes. He waits for you to finish each book before talking more about them and the arc of the story they laid out. Opening up for the two of you to have a nice discussion on the fantasy game based series. It's honestly so much fun for you, where you lack in background awareness Toby is quick to fill you in and point out little ques the writers and artist dropped. In return you're right there explaining character motives and the subtle looks of a character's eyes.

It's a fun few hours before visiting hours are over. And Toby paused at the door before he left, he looked like he wanted to say something but held back. Just as he turned to leave you call out.

“Get home safe.” it's normally his line but you aren't going anywhere tonight.

“I will....get well soon. I'll see ya later.”

There's that awkward smile! You can barely contain the beaming one you sent him before he left. Despite being hospitalized for injuries sustained by a home invasion from your potential stalker...well plural now, you've had a pretty great day.

Fuck that sounds so bad. Should you feel guilty about forgetting your messed up circumstances? No, no everything is getting sorted out. If anything this is going along with your plans for Big Jo to help you out. This was more than enough evidence to prove that you aren't just paranoid. And you're about to have a safe place to hang while this all gets settled.

The fact that you got injured is less than ideal but this is what you get for being sloppy and unfocused.

You have a lot of faith in your boss, you know this will be dealt with. Thinking back to everyone who came to see you today...you just hope everyone can be as confident as you are that this will all end soon.

[xiaomomowrites]

act V

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary:  “Anyway, childhood dreams are all too easily shattered. Even if you just leave them be, they will fall to pieces all by themselves,” Childe had said ruefully to the traveler, “So someone has to protect them, right?” 

And what about your own, Zhongli questioned, who will protect you, Tartaglia, if not me?

Or, Zhongli is incredibly soft for a specific ginger.

A continuation of act IV; takes place a couple months from where act IV left off. Both stories can be read individually.

A/N: This fic is entirely self indulgent haha. I played Childe’s individual story and couldn’t help but feel obligated to write him being doted on. Seriously, the guy went through that much trouble to take care of his brother and preserve his innocence :( made me wonder if there was anyone to take care of him, too, you know? 

Umm if you wanna cry with me, listen to the song Everything I Wanted by Billie Eilish while or after you read. Please enjoy! - u.n

Spoiler alert: contains spoilers for Childe’s story, Monoceros Caeli.

--

The warmth of the morning sun’s rays always had a way of withering down even the strongest of soldiers. 

A morning not so different from yesterday’s gently pulls Zhongli from a restful slumber. He cracks an amber eye open to observe his surroundings and takes a calming breath, and feels his own chest rise and fall. The sun crept through the window and past the curtains, enveloping the entirety of one ivory wall and reflecting against Childe’s pale skin. Two bodies lay intertwined underneath the thick duvet, creasing every which way where their legs tangled and rose and fell with each breath they took. He glanced down to where Childe had an arm slung across his waist protectively, and allowed himself to bask in the way the weight felt against his body. For the first time in a long time, Zhongli woke with his heart full of peace and completely void of discourse. 

The ex-Archon glances down at his peaceful lover with the ghost of a smile on his face. 

He inches closer and pulls his hand away from where it was laced with Childe’s between their faces. The action released a soft, discontented grunt from the ginger. Zhongli bit his lip to hide a smile, and brought the offending hand up to his Childe’s cheek. He brushes his knuckles across the smooth skin, running his thumb across his cheekbone as he gently pulled away, only to reach back in to repeat the action. 

Childe sniffles in his sleep and subconsciously leans into his touch. 

Zhongli’s heart flutters.

At the heart of it all, he knows that Tartaglia is incredibly soft hearted. Buried beneath is a soul that is desperately clinging to the innocence of childhood that was lost in the abyss. He’s a man that carries burdens as heavy as the rocks he breaks with the flick of his wrist, a man that would sprint to the ends of the earth for his family and anyone he loved. A man that loves so deeply, yet so exclusively. He’s a man that is careful with his heart, a man that needs to be, but in the event that he should entrust another with his entire essence, it should be considered the highest honor. Zhongli’s chest swells. Childe truly is one of a kind. 

Sometimes, Zhongli finds it hard to believe that someone as magnificent as Childe has chosen an old man like him.

His ginger hair falls against his forehead playfully and tickles the bridge of his nose. The side of his head that’s pressed against soft satin pillows also has ginger locks splaying out in every direction, unlike his usual semi-neat hair style. His fingers twitch subconsciously where Zhongli once held them between his own. His breath rises and falls with each steady inhale and exhale, and fuck Zhongli is so in love. He’s really in for it, now. Oddly enough, it’s a familiar feeling. It’s an all consuming feeling that blooms within his chest before spreading like a wildfire down his arms and into his core, down to his legs and out to his arms; the warmth will spread up to his neck and make his head feel a thousand pounds lighter before the process repeats again. It’s akin to what he feels on the battlefield, except, instead of adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream, it’s more like a gentle wave of reassurance. It’s a feeling so unforgettable, even Zhongli in his densest moments has to be able to recognize it. 

Seeing that he roams the earth as a mortal, the only person who could truly be the cause of his downfall now lies in front of him, blissfully unaware of the world around him at the moment. 

What a beautiful feeling it must be, Zhongli ponders, to think of nothing but the luxuries that life has to offer. One of them being waking up next to the love of your unfortunately long life. 

Zhongli likes to think now more than ever, that Guizhong would be proud of him. Look at me now, old friend, he thinks proudly, look at what he’s taught me. Look at what you’ve opened my heart to.

Because even if Childe was a swirl reaction of multiple emotions at once, most of them chaotic, some of them malicious and some of them benevolent, he’s been one of the kindest teacher’s Zhongli has ever met. And the man is six thousand years old. 

It’s in his eyes, Zhongli concludes silently. 

Childe has never been one to be very open with his emotions, but like it or not, they constantly revealed themselves in his obnoxiously blue eyes. His eyes, ever cerulean, have led Zhongli through his heart and showed him the ropes, handling him with care. His eyes were the very reason Zhongli knew that he needed to make amends after the storm, three months ago. Because even if Childe’s posture and tone reflected but playful and meaningless feelings of betrayal, his eyes begged to differ. One look at him as he passed over his gnosis, and Zhongli knew he had hurt him more than he could imagine. More than he had ever expected he could. At the time, all Zhongli knew in him was a soldier. A Fatui Harbinger at the disposal of the Tsaritsa.

Oh, how he was wrong. 

As soon as the traveler, their floating companion, and Signora all but vacated the bank, he hauled ass to Wangshu Inn. Zhongli remembers the way his heart slammed against his chest as he pumped his legs as fast as they could go. It was Ekaterina that had informed him, vaguely, that Childe had plans to leave the next morning, if not earlier. He simply could not let that pass without saying his piece. Stubborn as a rock, Zhongli fled. There, he caught Childe at the last minute with his travel duffel already equipped and ready to go. He thought, for a terrifying second, that he had already lost him. 

And yet here they were, tangled together in a heap of limbs as the sun rose, ever upwards. 

I love him, Zhongli determines, I love him I love him I love him—

“Are you watching me sleep, old man?” 

Ah. He had been too caught up in his emotions to notice Childe’s obvious change in breathing. He had been awake for awhile. Zhongli’s hand, where it had once been running lovingly across his face, has stilled for quite some time and rested gently against Childe’s cheek. Still, Childe’s eyes remain closed.

Zhongli smiles, uninhibited. “I love you,” the words flowed out of him with such ease, he almost didn’t recognize his own voice. 

Both of Tartaglia’s eyes slam open. He doesn’t even get the chance to blink away the sleep the way he usually does in that infuriatingly cute manner. Instead, all he blinks once, nice and slow. Processing.

“Well,” the (former? It’s tentative) Harbinger starts dumbly, “good morning to you, too.”

Zhongli chuckles. “Good morning, my love.”

Tartaglia’s eyes widen once more. The ginger looks at the deity with disbelief, as if he were still processing the fact that the first confession was not a fluke. It truly is a comical sight for the ex-Archon. Another one of the simple pleasures in life, he deems, is bringing happiness to the one he loves most. 

The ginger sits up on one elbow and looks down at the man in confusion, tugging him closer in the process. “What’s up with you?” 

“Nothing is up with me,” Zhongli shrugs and looks up at the object of his affections with such nonchalance it makes Tartaglia’s head spin.

“You’re being all…” the sentence almost dies on his lips, “feely.” His head is too muddled with sleep to think of anything else to say.

“Feely?” He tilts his head in genuine confusion. Zhongli has never heard that word before. 

“Yes, feely!” Tartaglia shakes him restlessly, “what’s with the…” he waves a hand in the air aimlessly.

“I love you,” Zhongli states again, simple as breathing, “is it so wrong for me to tell you?”

“No!” He negates quickly, “I’ve just… you’ve never said it out loud before, I guess.”

Zhongli’s eyebrows pull together in slight distaste. “Have I done something that made you feel otherwise?”

At this, Tartaglia sighs and slumps forward. He lets his forehead thump against the other man’s collarbone and nuzzles closer. “No, you oaf, like I said, you’ve just never said it directly before. Caught me by surprise a little.”

Zhongli brings a free hand to tangle in red hair idly as he speaks. “I’ll be sure to say it more often, then.” And in a moment of insecurity, he follows with, “do you… share the sentiment?”

Tartaglia stills in his arms. Zhongli’s breath stutters for a moment. He wonders if he should drop the subject in its entirety when Ajax’s voice finally returns, albeit muffled by the sheets. 

“More than you could ever know,” he admits quietly. Zhongli ignores the quiver in his voice for Ajax’s sake. “So much so that it scares me.”

Zhongli’s heart soars. “You don’t need to be afraid, darling,” he assures him with confidence, “when was the last time you let someone take care of you?” 

There was a time, Zhongli recalls, when Tartaglia told him all about the day his little brother had visited him in Liyue. The little troublemaker took ten years off of Tartaglia’s life span when he rushed headfirst into a ruin guard factory with little regard to his own safety. Tartaglia, ever the family man, threw himself into danger and shifted into his Foul Legacy Form despite his slow recovery from the last instance. High on adrenaline was the excuse he had used when Zhongli looked at him sternly. He was left coughing and sputtering, a pathetic image of the Eleventh Harbinger that is usually so calm and collected, always looking for a fight. 

Had Zhongli been there, he would have scolded him endlessly. 

“Anyway, childhood dreams are all too easily shattered. Even if you just leave them be, they will fall to pieces all by themselves,” Childe had said ruefully to the traveler, “So someone has to protect them, right?” 

And what about your own, Zhongli questioned, who will protect you, Tartaglia, if not me?

“It’s been a long time, sensei,” Ajax admits into the sheets, “please be patient with me when I’m being difficult.”

Zhongli cradles his nape. “For you, my love, I’d wait another six thousand years.”

[aliensunflower-fics]

Attitude - [Bustier Salt]

[ I had a teacher like Bustier back in highschool, I was depressed and being bullied at the time among other horrible things so I REALLY dont like Bustier’s character for reminding me of that. So I based this fic somewhat on an actual event that happened with that teacher it was therapeutic! Hope you enjoy! ]

Marinette sighed, a mix of amusement and annoyance gracing her features as class was interrupted for the third time that day, this time it was Kim and Alix the competitive pair loudly declaring war on one another this time over who could procure the better mark on Bustier’s upcoming test. It was certainly the least destructive challenge the two had ever entered but Marinette could already see the many ways they could and probably would take it to far. She’d bet that Max would end up in a tug a war as both challengers would want him as a study mate and Marinette guessed that Kim would likely ignore sleep to cram while Alix would try to study and skate at the same time. Bustier called for the class to be quiet plastering on a cheery smile as she reminded everyone that it was almost time for lunch and that they could all talk then. Marinette fidgeted in her seat eager to bolt out of class and join up with Kagami for lunch at the bakery.

The two girls had grown close ever since Lila had ‘took over’ as the supposed class queen  though it was more like everyone humored her In truth the girls threat had never actually come true. Marinette enjoyed a healthy relationship with all her classmates Alya and her were still friends and if anything Marinette felt she should thank Lila for helping her learn her own value. In the short while where Lila had been queen Alya and the others drew away not intentionally or maliciously they were just so busy listening to such grand tales they sorta forgot about Marinette. And in that time Marinette had bonded closely with Kagami the fencer giving her the push she needed to be more assertive and confident in herself! And when she was she noticed that suddenly Adrien wasn’t so amazing. He was a good friend but she didn't need the crush anymore she didn't need the validation she was happy and confident as she was. 

And not long after that Lila’s new-ness wore off and everyone caught on to the fact that Lila could sometimes stretch the truth or be a bit over sensitive. In the end, Marinette still sat at the back and she still had to deal with Lila on the daily but she still had her friends and if things kept going as they were with Kagami well… Hopefully she’d have more than just a friend soon! The only real problem lately had come from the most unlikely source. Mme Bustier. Marinette wasn’t sure if the teacher had just fallen for Lila’s lies hook line and sinker or if maybe just maybe she’d ALWAYS been like this? It was a thought Marinette didnt like to entertain but it was hard to ignore the permanent fake smiles that never quite reached the eyes or how ever since Marinette became more assertive and confident how the teachers once compliments became criticism.

The sound of the bell caught Marinette by surprise and she moved to gather her things. Kim and Alix raced out of class first trying to beat each other. Adrien dodged Lila’s clutches sticking close to Nino, Alya looked back to Marinette giving her a thumbs up and a ‘go get her!’ Before chasing after Nino. Soon the class was empty save for Marinette and Mme Bustier. Hauling her backpack over her shoulders Marinette headed to the door only giving a curt nod and smile to her teacher on the way out trying not to notice the ever present fake smile and the cold look in her eyes that just didn't match, right as Marinette reached the door however-

“Marinette? Could you stay here please? And close the door would you, we need to talk.” Bustier’s voice as usual held a cheery tone but Marinette could easily hear the underlay of aggression. 

Closing the door Marinette moved back to her teachers desk hoping that this wouldn't take too long. For Mme Bustier’s part she looked to be in no rush carefully taking her time to sort papers humming slightly her ever present smile plastered on as if desperately trying to look the part of the friendly teacher, instead of actually being it. Shuffling from foot to foot Marinette resisted the urge to tell Bustier they could talk another time after all Kagami was waiting for her! Surely Mme Bustier would understand? Finally Bustier slid a packet of papers in her desk drawer before she turned in her chair to address Marinette her smile growing wider more forced crinkling the side of her face before she spoke.

“So Marinette… I was thinking that you should spend your lunch in here!” She blinked once, then twice. But Bustier just kept smiling no hint of joking on her features.

“E-Excuse me?? But why?” The words were careful but Marinette could not stop the very clear confusion and annoyance from slipping into her voice.

“Mmm~” Bustier hummed pleasantly. “Well you see Marinette, I was not a fan of your attitude today in class.” It was stated as if it were gospel, a fact easy to understand. But Marinette understood little.

“I'm Sorry?!” The words came out quiet but strained shock, annoyance but mostly confusion evident. To her credit Mme Bustier didn't even blink.

“Your a good student Marinette, but your attitude is a problem. How can you expect to lead your classmates if you keep up this behaviour? So you will be staying here at lunch.” It was said so sweetly so kindly with such gentle tone yet still Marinette felt like she'd been slapped.

Had she done something? That was Marinette’s first thought. Doubt and panic creeping into her body twisting her stomach making her feel sick and sweaty. But she could think of nothing. All class she’d sat quietly taking notes when they were needed doodling if they werent. Answering questions when called. She’d been a model student! Even when the rest of the class became disruptive she’d sat quietly waiting for Mme Bustier to do her job- Unless. Was that it? Did Bustier expect, no demand that Marinette take responsibility for her classmates? Was this her teachers sick version of forcing Marinette to be an example of a perfect student a base for which others were expected to follow!? A cold feeling washed down Marinette’s back and her eyes hardened at the teacher still sitting still smiling. Did Bustier expect her to smile and apologize and sit quietly going hungry? Because if so she had another thing coming. Tightening her grip on the strap of her bag Marinette marched passed Bustier’s desk toward the door. In shock Bustier stood her voice raising.

“Marinette! Where do you think your going!” Even in her panicked state shocked by Marinette’s defiance she tried to force her voice to be calm and gentle she tried to smile but her widened eyes betrayed panic.

“I'm going to lunch.” Marinette spoke flatly not betraying the cold icy rage in her heart.

“Now Marinette. Your just proving my point. You clearly have an attitude problem. Stay here for lunch and let's talk about it.” Bustier was trying to regain control. Trying to keep her voice even and calm. Trying to make her command seem friendly.

“No. I don’t think I will.” She took another step, Bustier moved quickly taking a step from behind her desk now. Still smiling that horrible fake smile still trying to be friendly.

“Marinette. If you keep up this attitude I’ll have no choice but to take you to the Principle and call your parents! You WILL stay here for lunch.” The smile was so forced so ugly her little cold eyes piercing into Marinette.

But all Marinette wanted to do was laugh. Bustier was so sure of herself so sure of her power and position so sure that she was the most beloved and friendly teacher that all her students would accept even the most unfair punishment because if Mme Bustier said it then clearly it was true! And maybe… Just maybe. If Marinette lacked the confidence she now had, if she was still the Marinette from before Kagami, the Marinette who craved validation from a crush who genuinely believed LILA could take away her friends. Maybe if she was that Marinette things would have gone the way Bustier wanted. But for Marinette’s part. All she did was laugh, a cold dark laugh a laugh that still didn't break the fake smile on Bustier’s face but the shock was clear in her eyes. When Marinette was done laughing she took a breath before speaking her voice coming out cold.

“Fine. Take me to the principal's office. Phone my parents. I'd be delighted to hear what you’d tell them when they ask why you were trying to force their daughter to go without food.” Bustier’s eyes widened considerably her smile twitched but didn't drop.

“This attitude of yours is getting out of control Mari-“

“What attitude?! Mme Bustier? The one where I sat quietly in class taking notes? Or the one where I calmly answered questions when asked? Or maybe the one where when the class got disruptive I didn't do your job for you?” Anger filled Bustier’s eyes and her smile twisted into an ugly look.

“Don’t you think your going a bit far. Marinette.” Bustier’s voice was sickly sweet barely hiding the venom behind it.

“No. I don’t think I am. In fact id go so far as to say that the only one here with an attitude problem is you. Mme Bustier.”

“How Dare You!-“

“No! Mme Bustier! How dareYOU! I am not your perfect shining example, or your substitute teacher! I am a student! And the only thing wrong ive done today is let you waste my lunch!”

Bustier’s smile was gone replaced with an open mouthed look of surprise before being twisted into a sneer. She could not believe this! Her model student was daring to talk back to her? To make a scene? This was not what she was supposed to be this way! She was supposed to set the example to stop her classmates when they got out of hand! To acknowledge Bustier as a caring teacher who only had the best in mind but here she was fighting her!? Would she truly need to drag her to office? No that couldn't be this was just a mistake! Marinette was just acting out a little then she'd settle down and spend the rest of the lunch sitting quietly reflecting on how she could have done better how this attitude of hers was ruining everything! But then why was she trying to leave again?!

“W-Where do you think your going?! Get back here! This attitude of yours has gone far enough Marinette you are spending your lunch here!” The pretense was gone the sweetness lacking shock evident the desperation seeping in.

“No… I’m not. But you know what. If you really think I’m acting out. That I have an attitude problem? Then do it. Take me to the principal call my parents I’ll love watching you bury yourself.”

Cold fear washed over Caline, this was not her Marinette! Her Marinette had been quiet and resourceful she never made a fuss or upset anyone! Why was she suddenly acting out? She wasn’t being treated unfairly! She was being treated with extra responsibilities like all mature children should! Yet Marinette was acting like she was the victim and it was ridiculous if only the old Marinette would come back! Then everything would be easy like it use to be! Finally finding words she moved to speak she just needed Marinette to realize that all this tantrum would do is lead to an Akuma! Maybe, just maybe someone was being a bad influence on her star pupil! It could be that Kagami girl always so aggressive! That was it! She just needed Marinette to stop hanging around such… Unreasonable people. Surely the moment she would she’d go back to how she was and make peace with her role as the model student and Lila. Sure it was stressful to be an example but it was also an honor!

Meanwhile Marinette was having very different thoughts. As she eyed up Mme.Bustier she could see the teacher she once respected thinking her way through Marinette’s words. And if Marinette could guess her teacher was most likely trying to ignore the fact that Marinette had threatened her. But that WAS just like her, to avoid the real issues, the real problems, and instead soften everything until you let it go feeling ridiculous and guilty for something that wasn’t your fault. That’s what she’d done to Marinette during the Chloe and Lila incidents. And Kwami be damned if Marinette let her do it again! Kagami cared for her, stood up for her, was always there for her! And Marinette could hear her now in the back of her head urging her forward demanding she defend herself that she lay the line in the sand. Mme.Bustier would never stop not unless Marinette was firm. So when the redheaded teacher finally gathered her wits and opened her mouth to poor out yet more sewage about her responsibility to her class Marinette was going to remind her of HER responsibility!

“Don’t.” It was a sharp command. “Don’t you dare tell me who I am, or what I must do.” Marinette had no idea how much pent up anger she had at her once favorite teacher until that moment. 

She needed to remain cool so she took a deep breath and centered herself thinking of how Kagami’s armd felt the last time she’d picked her up twirled her and called her ‘her dazzling sun’. She could do this.

“If you were to take me to Mr.Damocles about my attitude problem. What do you think I would tell him.” Bustier looked confused and angry and flustered.

“I would hope you would apologize!” Oh Kwami was she serious?

“I would tell him to review the footage of today's class. And do you know what he’d see?” Bustier paled somewhat trying to stammer out a response.

“He would see Alya at the start of class. Arguing with Chloe and you doing nothing to stop it but look over at me waiting for ME to play peacekeeper.”

“W-well it comes better from a fellow student and shining example then it does-“ Marinette wasn’t even listening.

“By the time you do stop them 10 minutes of class have been wasted. And me? Well I was reviewing notes waiting like a good student for my TEACHER to do her job.”

“Well I-“

“Later, Mr.Damocles would see you letting Lila interrupt class repeatedly to lie-“

“Now we don't know that-“ Marinette grit her teeth but proceeded.

“To LIE, about something relevant to what your teaching. And you let her, she gets zero discipline for repeatedly disturbing the lesson or making up lies. And where am I in all this? Reading ahead. Waiting for my teacher to do her job.”

Caline looked rightly embarrassed her face going from red to purple to white. Marinette didn’t care she wasn’t yet done.

“And then finally he would see Kim and Alix fight. Shoving each other, yelling, and what do YOU the teacher do? Again you look to me.” Marinette sighed.

“Face it, you expect me to do your job FOR you! But I am a student and like every other student here I deserve to go to school and be taught by a teacher who does her job! Instead of putting her responsibilities on a student while also expecting that student to neglect her own feelings so that bullies and liars get an easy pass.”

“That is enough! Marinette this attitude problem is worse than I feared! You will apologize!” Marinette sighed heavily.

“No.” Caline looked slapped. “Because I haven’t done anything wrong. The only thing this conversation has made clear to me is that if anyone has an attitude problem. Its you.”

Before Bustier could think of a response. Marinette was gone. Her confident strides taking her out of the classroom with no room to protest. Finally Caline took a breath it was shaky like her legs. She stumbled back slightly and sank into her chair, the normal happy smile she plastered on her face to show her students that positivity meant everything even when your upset was noticeably missing. Marinette harsh words kept replaying in her head. She couldn't be at fault… Could she? She didn’t have an attitude problem, no Marinette did she had to! Why else would she talk back?! Yet the words kept haunting her and a smile even her perfectly practiced ones seemed impossible to muster. And things remained that way even when lunch ended and her students returned all accept for Marinette who unknown to Caline Bustier was at home wrapped in the supportive embrace of Kagami as she finally told her parents everything that had been going on at school. As it turns out Marinette’s parents also thought Bustier was the one with the ‘attitude problem’.

[ There ya go! Hope ya’ll liked it! Thank you everyone who has followed and sent nice asks or left comments you have no idea how happy it makes me!!! ]

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[mystical-salamander]

Rating: General Audiences

Summary:

Getting stranded on a desert planet isn’t ideal when your partner has fur.

... 

It was kriffing hot.

The thought repeated itself in Kallus' head for the millionth time. The former agent growled to himself as he stared into the endless golden landscape.

He sighed and looked over at the unconscious Lasat next to him. The rapid and shallow breathing Zeb produced made Kallus' insides twist horribly. The former agent leaned over to grab his jacket and fanned at the Lasat's sweltering body.

Still no change, Kallus frowned. It's still so kriffing hot. He groaned as he removed his shirt and thought back to the day's events.

…

Crashing onto the desert planet was part of an unfortunate and unforeseen plan that neither Zeb or he had. It just so happened that the escape pod they took had lost control after a TIE-fighter got a lucky shot in. The pod had spun into the range of the nearby planet and was forcibly dragged into its gravity.

Thankfully neither of them had gotten heavily injured in the crash, escaping with only minor scrapes and bruises. The pod was unsalvageable, however, exploding seconds after the pair managed to get out of the craft.

After gathering their bearings, the first thing they immediately noticed was how uninhabitable the place was. Sand covered the land as far as their eyes could see and no other lifeforms were visible.

The next thing they noticed was the high temperature. They both groaned as they began to remove the unneeded layers of clothing to fend off the heat. 

Kallus removed his jacket, tying it around his waist to keep his hands free to adjust the frequency on their transponder. "Must we always get stranded together somewhere?"

Zeb zipped opened his jumpsuit and rolled it down to his waist. The Lasat grinned, "Kal, if this keeps up," a sparkle in his eyes illuminated his excitement despite their predicament, "maybe we'll get a beach planet next time!"

The ex-agent rolled his eyes, "I don't want to get stuck anywhere, Zeb." 

He covered his face with one hand as he tried to stop a smile, "But… I wouldn't mind a beach planet."

Zeb hugged Kallus, "Aw, ya love me." 

The ex-agent almost let out an undignified yelp as he felt warm and damp fur press against him. "Zeb! Let go of me!"

Lasats ran warmer than humans– that was a fact that Kallus quickly learned during his experience on Bahryn. Zeb's fur had kept the Lasat relatively warm on the ice moon. And while Yavin IV was a sweltering jungle planet, there was at least water and the air conditioning to ease off the heat.

Unfortunately this small planet had neither of those and Kallus wasn't planning on testing Zeb's limits.

Once the Lasat reluctantly released the former agent, they searched around for any cover from the sun. Kallus pointed off into the distance, "Those large rocks should provide shade." They were too far in the ex-agent's opinion, but it was the only choice they had.

Zeb squinted and faintly nodded, "Y-yeah. Okay." He gave a wavering smile, "Let's go."

They trekked through the sand, stumbling through giant sand dunes under the merciless sun. Kallus worriedly glanced over to his partner periodically as he worked on the transponder. 

Sweat glistened from Zeb's body and harsh heavy pants filled the ex-agent's ears. He paused his work and untied the jacket from his waist, offering it to his partner. Zeb automatically took the material in his hands. He stared at the jacket for a few seconds before he gave Kallus a confused look.

The former agent stifled a laugh, "Hold it over your head, so you're covering yourself from the sun."

"Oh." 

An ear twitched, "What about you?"

"I'll be fine, Zeb. We shouldn't be long before we make it to the large rocks," Kallus then shifted, somehow turning redder despite his already flushed skin. He avoided Zeb's gaze, "And I'm worried about you since you're one with a body full of fur."

Said fur ruffled as Kallus' concern made Zeb's heart fluttered. He tried to hide it with a good-natured grumble as he lifted the jacket over his head, "If you say so, ya sap."

They fell in comfortable silence; as comfortable they could get with the horrid heat.

The sun was at its highest peak when Kallus heard a soft thump behind him. The former agent whipped around, and nearly threw their only connection to the Ghost into the endless desert.

"Zeb!" 

Kallus quickly ran up and removed the jacket that obscured part of the Lasat's face. He shook his partner and felt the searing heat coming off the Lasat in waves.

"Zeb!"

The Lasat didn't respond. 

No! Nonono. They were so close!

"Zeb! Zeb! Wake up!"

Kallus tucked the transponder into his jacket pocket and once again tied the material around his waist. He grabbed a hold on Zeb and began to drag the Lasat the rest of the way.

The blazing heat that emanated from Zeb almost made the ex-agent release the Lasat a few times, but he grit his teeth and continued to push on. Sweat dripped steadily off Kallus' face, the liquid making his clothes uncomfortably stick to his body. 

His vision swam from the scorching heat that bore down on the barren land. He gasped for air, the warmth of it nearly made Kallus vomit.

Suddenly he felt the air moderately cool, Kallus glanced around and let out a relieved sigh. He made it to the rocks– the shade. Without a moment to lose, he pulled Zeb fully into the fresh shadows laying him down carefully, "Zeb! Dear!" 

Kallus cupped the Lasat's face, "We made it! Wake up." 

His heart began to sink the longer he went without a response. Kallus frantically searched for Zeb's pulse, he let out a shaky exhale when he felt the faint heartbeat thumping against his fingers.

Kallus hastily untied his jacket, threw the transponder off to the side, and messily folded the clothing to fan the Lasat to try to cool him down. "Please! Zeb, wake up!" 

He shouldn't be wasting his energy on crying, but Kallus couldn't stop his tears from running down his face. He buried his face into Zeb's soft fur, hissing as the heat the unconscious body exuded was unbearable to the human, How bad was it for Zeb?

After what felt like hours, Kallus forced himself to release his grasp on Zeb. He looked down in the sand to see the transponder laying forgotten. The ex-agent sighed and dragged himself to the machine to correct its frequency. 

It was kriffing hot.

… 

The sun was setting when the human was woken up by the sound of a ship. Kallus shot up, ran out of the shade, and saw the welcoming sight of the Ghost.  Kallus let out a hysterical laugh as he waved his arms to alert the Spectres of their location.

He clumsily ran up to Hera and Kanan, the Jedi caught him before his knees collapsed from under him. His sunburnt skin screamed with the touch, but Kallus ignored the pain.

The ex-agent's fingers gripped onto the blind Jedi's arm, "Zeb– He needs help!"

The fear in the Spectres' eyes made Kallus shiver, Kanan passed the former agent over to Hera before he ran towards the rocks where Zeb lay.

Hera led Kallus to the Ghost, "N-no. I need to help Kanan– help Zeb!"

The Twi'lek kept her tight hold on the thrashing human, "Kallus you're not doing any better yourself. You're not going to be much help." 

He knew that but… but… 

Hera cut through his unfinished thoughts, "Don't worry, you've done the best you can. We'll do the rest of the hard work, you just focus on getting better."

When they entered the ship, Hera's commanding voice echoed throughout the durasteel walls. 

"Rex! We need you outside!"

Hera led Kallus to the medbay, "Ezra! Sabine! I'm going to need ice packs– or anything that'll cool down a body!"

She sat down Kallus on the cot before turning to the orange droid who had followed the Twi'lek once she had entered the Ghost. "Chop, keep an eye on Kallus. Don't let him leave medical. I'm going to help Kanan and Rex with Zeb."

Chopper saluted, before turning to the ex-agent and producing his electro-shock prod. He tried to goad Kallus into leaving the room, promising not to shock the human if he got up from the bed.

Kallus might have been exhausted, but he wasn't stupid, after all it only took two shocks before he realized that the droid was messing with him.

"Traitor."

 …

 After hours of laying in the Ghost covered head-to-toe in ice packs and wet towels, Kallus could finally say with finality that he was currently freezing.

He still wasn't allowed to leave the room– or get up for that matter– not until Hera gave the okay. Which was why Chopper was put in charge of guarding the medbay; his threatening whirring and chatter kept Kallus from getting out of the cot.

He sighed, his eyes growing heavy for a second before a groan from beside him made Kallus shoot up. The materials on him crashing onto the floor as he got onto his feet.

Angry beeping filled the room as Chopper chastised Kallus for getting up. The ex-agent ignored the racket, "Chopper! Go get Hera! Zeb's waking up!'

The grumpy droid beeped in confirmation before speeding away. Kallus turned to the Lasat in the cot next to him, watching as Zeb's emerald green eyes slowly fluttered open. The sight made Kallus cup his love's face and begin to pepper small kisses all over. 

A purr rumbled throughout Zeb's chest, "Kal?"

"Thank the Stars you're okay! My Zeb, I was so worried."

Zeb cupped the human's face with one hand and wiped away any stray tears. He gave his love a weak smile, "I'm fine, Kal. Sorry for scaring ya."

"No, no. It's not your fault," the ex-agent lay his hand on Zeb's, caressing the soft fur there. He moved the hand to his lips, giving the palm a tender kiss.

"You know," Zeb dryly swallowed at the sight, his ears twitched as he tried to compose himself. "I'm still holding out hope for that beach planet, Kal."

Kallus gave a breathless laugh, "Maybe once you've recovered, we'll go on our own terms."

The Lasat's eyes lit up, "Really?"

"Anything for you, my dear." Kallus pressed one last kiss to Zeb's hand before the eleated voices of the Spectres rushing over the medbay reached his ears. Kallus tightened his hold on Zeb's hand; the Lasat returned the gesture, a smile gracing his features, "I can't wait."

[ficforce]

Little Wound Part 1

Joker x Little Lady Reader SFW There will be mentions of noncon and other abuse in this and the coming chapters

Joker stared up at the steel ceiling, his eye was unfocused as his mind drifted back to the rooftop nearly three months before. He wasn’t sure how he had survived because he had been pretty far gone; it was a miracle he had even been able to get a signal out to Licht. He loved her. He loved her so much and he had ruined her life because of his selfish desire to be free. He tried to recall her happy smiles and the way she would tell him off but the images kept morphing into her dead stare and her cruel words. She didn’t love him back, it had all been a lie to get close to him and slip a knife between his ribs. “I changed your IV drip - ya know I’m not this kinda doctor, right? I’m the experimenting kind.” Licht tapped on the rail of the hospital bed they had acquired, “The actual doctor did say you should start getting up and about… start eating more.” It didn’t take a genius - even though he was one - to realise the Joker was depressed. He had to be. Joker hadn’t left the hideout once since they had set up the bed, borrowed some simple hospital monitoring equipment, they also acquired blood and medicine for him. They had other allies working with them, all of them trying to work out why people kept catching fire - one of those people was a surgeon and he had barely saved the man’s life. “You can’t find the truth laying on your back.” “This word sucks, the truth just makes it suck more…” “But you wanted to find out why it sucked, remember?” This wasn’t his friend, this wasn’t the awkward, dangerous man he knew, “So you’re gonna just wait for the world to burn? Become a different kind of shadow that disappears into the dark all alone?” Nothing. Not a twitch. Joker turned his head away from Licht, figuring he’d disappear if he hoped long enough. “Damn it, Joker!” his fist hit the rail and the metal hinges of the bed squeaked, “Get up and do something - every second you waste in that bed is another second Y/N is trapped.” A sharp inhale followed by a shaky breath out was the only reaction he gave outwardly. The words stung but they did start a wheel turning in his head, one that hadn’t turned in three months, Y/N was trapped. She was likely back with the shadows under the Holy Sol Temple. Going through the hell he had run away from and damned her to. “Get outta here… I’m tired.”

x - -

‘You never belonged to the shadows’ Sometimes those words echoed around his head. Some of her parting words to him and he didn’t know if she was rejecting him or comforting him. Joker relived the night over and over, every word, every detail until he started to realise the minuscule things. Like the fact she had stabbed him in a way that deliberately missed his heart. She would have known exactly where to land a killing blow but she didn’t; she had nearly killed him. She hadn’t finished the job either. She had told him that she wanted him to remember her being different and special - not part of the collective. She didn’t want to be with the Shadows. She wanted to be free just like him and he wished he had recognised the pain in her eyes - the tension in her jaw. ‘The Captain always finds fault with me’ Joker knew what she meant because he had experienced it. He should have stormed tin there a year earlier and saved her, instead, he had felt sorry for himself whilst the Captain did Sol only knew what to her. Because she was his replacement, because he had tainted the Five-Two name.

Breaking into the Holy Sol Temple with Benimaru had been to seek the truth but it was also a partial rescue mission. However, when Joker saw those dead green eyes of the man who beat and violated him day in and day out, who had ordered the murder of the family who had taken him in and forced him out of the sun again… He forgot all about Y/N and set Benimaru loose on the Shadows. The very idea of finally ripping out the bastard’s heart gave him the edge, his hatred of the Captain and what he had done - not only to him - gave Joker an odd kind of joy.

A pained yelp went through Joker’s ear like an arrow and he felt a heated blade catch his leg. This wasn’t the time to get distracted but the sound had caught him off guard and his head whipped around to see Benimaru kick one of the masked assassins in the stomach to send them skidding along the floor. They weren’t supposed to make a sound, even if their bones were snapped. Joker lit up three cards to deflect his opponent’s whip sword, keeping his eye on the other whilst shouting over to the other man, “Oi, not that one, Mr Almighty - I got business with the Little Lady.” Maybe it would be considered cheating; the way he had used a hallucinogenic on the Captain. Scaring the shit out of the man before dicing him up into pieces. Dead was dead.

Joker took a deep breath and straightened out his clothing, the adrenaline was buzzing under his skin from finishing off his once Captain, a man who had been hard to erase from his scarred mind and nightmares. However, things just weren’t that easy, now he had to deal with Leonard Burns and he was out of drugged up cigarettes. “Really?” He turned to face his old acquaintance, “So to get the holy scriptures, I’ll have to defeat you…”

“For someone who has been hiding in the shadows, this is pretty daring of you.” Captain Burns wasn’t surprised to see who had been causing all the trouble, there were only a few people as dumb as Joker to attach the Church head-on.

The dark-haired man spread out his hands and called up his cards, “That’s because I don’t want the truth to stay hidden…”

Leonard took a breath and beckoned to him, “Come.”

They were at the ready to fight and then Benimaru’s voice broke the heavy tension, “Sounds like fun. Let me join the fight too.” There was a long pause, a three-man standoff that ended with Leonard turning his back on them and declining to fight - much to Joker’s surprise. It had been a strange turn of events but now Joker had a neutral ally in the church and more evidence that something stank in the Empire. That just left his other business… Y/N’s body shook uncontrollably in the corner Benimaru had forced her into, he had tied up her wrists and around her body to secure her arms to her sides, “Whatever it was that you used to send these bastards mad also affected her, figured I’d tie her up for her own safety.” The younger man crossed his arms and watched silently as Joker knelt beside the assassin to remove the faceless, white mask, he could see that the woman’s eyes were blown wide and tears streamed down her cheeks - he wondered what she was seeing in her head.

Joker’s voice was quiet, his tone soft as he started to undo the ties, noting that they were quite intricate knots that indicated Benimaru had certain hobbies with ropes, he smiled gently as he eyes tried to focus on his face, “Hey there, Little Lady. You’re a bit high but I promise it’ll wear off in a few minutes.” Her eyes widened all of a sudden and Joker flinched as she began to scream, Y/N’s legs kicked at him and began begging for her life. “Please, please don’t kill me! Not like that, don’t cut me up into pieces! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I- I’ll… I’ll do it myself but please -!” She had betrayed him, she had played his heart and his mind, poured her drink over him as he bled out; she deserved his punishment but she couldn’t stand being tortured anymore. “I’m begging you… Please…” Y/N’s voice began to break and she was sobbing too hard to be understood.

Joker stared at her in silence. Watching the woman he still loved fall to pieces and begging for a swift death. He pulled a playing card out of his breast pocket and lit it up - she had always liked his card tricks before but the sound of the burning card only seemed to terrify her more. Y/N cowered into herself, her freed hands covered her head as she buried it into her knees. “Tch!” Benimaru’s click was loud enough to be heard over Y/N’s whimpering and he stepped closer to them, the air rippling with heat as his crimson eyes lit up, “Revenge is fine but I’m not gonna let you fuck up some woman who’s already given up.”

“Relax, Mr Almighty, I’m not planning on hurting her…” The card went out and Joker sighed almost sadly as he watched her, “This was a rescue mission too.” Reaching out, he stroked her head lightly, pointedly ignoring her increased sobbing as the man tried to offer her some sort of comfort, “It’s just the hallucinogenic making everything worse.” Feeling Benimaru come off the offensive Joker began to hum some nonsense song to Y/N, picking her up into his arms once he realised she was paralysed with fear - it was time to leave the Shadows and monsters behind.

[7-seasof-fandom]

I'm the one breathing

(Tw: mention of death, panic attack, trauma)

| in which Five has a panic attack when they return to 2019 after the events of season 2 |

Five felt as if the whole world was crashing down around him. The fact that he was familiar with the actual feeling of that was... probably not normal. He let out a choked laugh, trying to ignore the tightness growing in his chest as the reality of the last two weeks, and everything else, hit him. Vanya gave him a concerned look from across the room. If eyes could speak she would've already asked him a thousand times if he was okay, but he was too tired to deal with that right now. He just nodded and moved his gaze to the, way too small, window. He would barely fit through it, even if he had broken every bone in his body in the attempt and the window didn't even point to a street or garden, but a brick wall. Not the best design choice, and certainly wouldn't be a big seller for the room, but for their situation it was pretty practical to not have too many eyes on them. After all, Five thought, swallowing thickly, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach, none of them were supposed to exist.

He let go of a shaky breath, running a sweaty hand across his face in circular, repetitive motions. Were they even gonna keep existing? Most likely... he wasn't entirely sure though. The Commission had taken people out of their timeline and placed them at times and places they shouldn't exist either, so they should be fine, right? But... what if? He forced himself to stop the circular motions and instead ended up absentmindedly rubbing the bridge of his nose. Everyone seemed to be in their own thoughts and were completely silent, which was unusual for their family, who could usually not go one second without some snarky comment or witty remarks. However, as silent as they were, the room was way too loud. The sound of Luther's fingers drumming on the table, Diego's knife going in and out of its holster, Allison running her hand through her hair, Klaus making low click sounds with his tongue, Vanya tipping her feet back and forth. It was all just small casual things, but somehow it was suddenly so fucking loud and the urge to slam his head into a wall was maybe just a bit too strong. He bit his lip, still rubbing the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in an attempt to just escape for a moment.

Images of his family lying in the ruins of the acedemy. Their home. They were dead. His family facing falling nukes. They'd be dead as soon as he left. His family laying around him, bleeding out. He was the only survivor. It all flashed behind his eyelids so vividly. His eyes stung from the brightness of the memories as he violently choked back a sob, blinking rapidly, trying to erase the memories. He rubbed frantically at his eyes, pressing his fingers against them, as if they were erasers and the memories just horrifying scribbles done in pencil. It hurt, his whole face was sore from the rubbing, but the images wouldn't go away. Oh god, they wouldn't fucking go away.

Saltwater mixed in with the sweat as he continued rubbing. He wasn't sure if the tears were because of that or because of the memories, but right now, that didn't matter. He was all alone. Everyone were dead. There was nothing he could do. He had failed them. They lost. He lost them. He was alone. Alone. Alone.

"...ive...?" He felt a soft hand on his upper arm. He flinched, a loud sob escaping his lips. He opened his eyes, his hands, shaking, hovering right in front of his face as if to shield him from whatever or whoever had entered his world of loneliness. Last time someone did that it was... Five suddenly realized that the sounds in the room had stopped. Or been altered. There was still the obnoxiously loud sound of fabric against fabric, light movement and slightly strained breathing, but all of his siblings' fidgeting had stopped and all eyes were on him. Klaus was in front of him. A hand resting in the air over his arm, as he'd pulled away at Five's reaction. "You okay, Five?" Five stared at his brother with wide eyes, trying to get rid of the image of him covered in dust and blood. He forced himself to make direct eye contact. Klaus's eyes were tired, he looked like he hadn't slept for about a week, but they weren't lifeless, he wasn't... Five shook his head in an attempt to shake the thought. Klaus' expression softened further. He lightly placed a hand on Five's arm, running his thumb over his skin in soothing motions. "Hey- Hey, Five. Take a deep breath? Deep breaths, okay?" Five stared at Klaus for a moment, wondering what in the world the idiot was babbling about. Klaus was the one who was lifeless. Not breathing. Not moving. Five wasn't- He gasped for air, suddenly aware that he'd been holding his breath. Taking in breath after breath like the world depended on it, going faster and faster as if his breathing was trying to outrun the memories. "No, no- hey, hey- deep breaths." Klaus whispered, slowing his movement of his thumb on Five's wrist to give him a pace to follow. "In... that's good. Hold it. Now out... hold... and in..." After a few minutes Five had finally managed to calm his breathing a bit, but his whole body was still tense and the images just wouldn't stop being there. Why wouldn't they stop being there? He lifted his free hand, starting to rub at his, now sore, nose again, a bit more aggressively.

Klaus grabbed his hand. The sound of the fabric moving when he did felt like getting hit by a brick right in the face and Five in return, on instinct, grabbed onto Klaus hand, squeezing it tight, twisting it slightly. Klaus let out a yelp as Luther stiffened, getting ready to interfere. Five flinched at the sound, quickly letting go to make his brothers be silent, giving him a quick apologetic look, but not saying anything. Klaus stared at him for a moment, before silently offering his hand. Five hesitantly took it, squeezing it lightly. Klaus squeezed back. There was something about the look in his eyes when he looked at Five. He almost seemed to understand. Five let out a heavy sigh, leaning his head against the wall, giving Klaus' hand another squeeze, as the images started to fade a bit. Good thing he wasn't alone this time, he thought to himself, as he stared at the ceiling lamp, because otherwise, he would've lost it, he was sure of it. He gave Klaus' hand a last thankful squeeze, before closing his eyes. He was so tired. He really needed be getting some sleep.

_______________

Constructive criticism and feedback is much appreciated!! I hope you enjoyed! :))

[whynotwinnie]

Wounded: a Kylo Ren x OC part 3

VENUS

"X2, can you please watch over the supreme leader, and if there are any irregularities in his heartbeat or oxygen levels come get me."

X2 beeped a yes and you left the operation room with General Hux

"What were you thinking, out of everyone on the field you had to choose Ren to help," he said

"I almost didn't help him but he was going to die I couldn't just leave him out there. And keep your thoughts down he can hear them," you said glancing back into the operation room's window the IV finally worked and he was sedated but you weren't sure what the extent of his powers was.

"He read your mind right?" he said smirking slightly "I know I've worked with him all this time he's been in my mind many times." He touched your coat stained with blood "Is this yours?"

Your hand shot up to your head forgetting about your gash on your head. It wasn't bleeding but the wound wasn't closed.

"I guess it is it will be healed soon."

"You fixed Ren up?"

Oh yeah, the supreme leader almost bled to death in your infirmary.

"Yeah, a blaster shot wound in the abdomen causing internal bleeding, broken ribs that should be mending currently and a really bad concussion."

"Ren doesn't get shot," he said matter of factly

"I don't know who shot him Artimedge I just do my job."

"Alright, no need to catch an attitude Venus I'm just saying something definitely went wrong."

"Well yeah a lot of things went wrong doesn't mean i-"

And then you saw them, six huge masked men dressed in all black. You heard stories of them of what they and the supreme leader do. Your stomach turned as they headed straight to you. You grabbed Artimedge's arm and he pushed you behind him making him some sort of human shield.

"Where is Master Ren girl?" one said to you

"He's resting right now." You surprised yourself your voice came out even and calm even though on the inside you felt like you could cry

"Why didn't you inform anyone that he was taken here." The one speaking broke from the group and approached you. Artimedge didn't move an inch as you were still behind him.

"For the safety of the supreme leader and myself I didn't put his name on the record because if I would they would've came and finished the job. The supreme leader was severely hurt and I'm afraid if I wasn't there he wouldn't be her-"

The knight grabbed your arm and dragged you out from behind Artimedge and pulled you to the operation room and shoved you against the wall. The rest of the knights and Artimedge followed you in the room. X2 beeped wildly.

"Where did you find Master Ren?" he said

"In a trench near the enemy base." now you were definitely crying.

The knight grabbed your jaw and moved it so you were facing to your right he examined your gash and then turned you the opposite direction and then he let go of you. You stared into his mask he turned and looked at the supreme leader as if he spoke to him and then finally spoke after what seemed forever.

"You are the only one that can work Master Ren no one else, there will be two of us at the door at all times you are not to leave this room until Master Ren is healthy, no one in or out." the knight said.

You finally let go of the breath you were holding you lived to see another day.

"You have thirty minutes to get your belongings and to be back here." you stared at him not knowing if you could move or if he was just going to change his mind and kill you.

Artimedge pulled you out of the room and started to drag you to your quarters.

"Venus are you okay? Please say something you look terrible."

"That's not very nice," you muttered

He sighed "You should've just left Ren on the battlefield."

"Please don't reprimand me for doing my job Artimedge. Why are you saying all this stuff wishing the Supreme Leader was dead, aren't you on the same side."

"Ren gets distracted with his own personal matters and frankly it's giving the First Order a bad rep making us look like fools compared to the Rebels."

You finally got to your quarters. Artimedge sat you down on your bed and started packing your clothes. You were thankful that he was there because you were still traumatized by your experience with the Knights of Ren.

You stood up and started helping him "Do you know that knights name?"

"Vircrul, he's sort of the next in command after Ren of course."

You were shaking as you were folding your clothes, Artimedge took the piece of clothing from you and folded it himself and grabbed your hands.

"It's going to be okay Venus, Ren will be fine in a week and then you never have to see him after that or the knights."

You shooked your head, Artimedge was always right in a week you could just go to your normal life. You looked down at your hands still holding on to Artimedge's you didn't want to go back and he knew it. He let go of your hands and grabbed your bag.

"I wouldn't be late Venus." you took a shaky breath and followed him back to the infirmary. Right before you got into the infirmary he handed you your bag and grabbed your face with both hands you both stared at each other until you hugged him he wrapped his arms around you and you both stayed there for a while until you heard footsteps coming from down the hall you let go and gave him a small smile and then you walked into infirmary.

Once you stepped into the operation room you were stopped by one of the other knights. He grabbed the bag that you brought and dumped everything out on the floor.

Are you kidding me?  You had to bite down on your tongue.

"He's just making sure that you didn't bring anything to harm Master Ren," Vircrul said suddenly he was nonviolent with you.

If I wanted to kill him don't you think I would've just left him on the battlefield to die. Or killed him when we were alone?

You gave him no response you just started picking up your clothes that were now scattered all across the floor.

"The kitchen is going to send both of your meals here. Three times a day your droid is allowed to assist you." Two of the knights came in holding a recliner chair. "As far as beds go that's the best the infirmary could provide."

You shook your head in confirmation. Of course, after the battle, all the cots were being used you were glad they provided you with the recliner.

Once they left the room X2 came straight to you and you knelled hugging his metal body. X2 was the only familiar thing to you on The Finalizer he always knew how you were feeling and what to do. You were just so worn out from the events of the day, you looked at the supreme leader's body still unconscious before deciding that you were going to take a shower in the small refresher in the operating room.

"X2 please keep an eye out and get me if anything happens, it just going to be a quick shower."

You stepped in the refresher that had a small toilet and a small walk-in shower and quickly undressed knowing your luck he would wake up while you were in the shower you. Once you were finished you checked your head again the gash was now closed but it was still sore. Changing quickly into nightclothes a pair of black loose-fitting pants and a black tank top you were able to see bruises where Vicrul grabbed you. X2 beeped at the entrance of the refresher

His heart rate is rising he is going to wake soon.

You shooked your head and tied your hair up and left and he was in fact moving around the table not quite awake yet. He jerked and woke himself up and you grabbed his shoulders.

"Supreme leader my name is Venus and I am your healer I'm not sure if you remember but you had a blaster shot woun-"

"I remember."

"Are you in any pain or discomfort?"

He didn't speak.

"Are you hungry they are going to bring dinner soon I believe."

"What's the time?"

"It is currently 7:51."

He started to sit up despite his wound on his stomach.

"Supreme leader you can't go anywhere until you are healthy again the Bacta shot is going to help speed up the process but ultimately you just need time."

He ignored you.

"Your knights said you are to stay here until you're ready."

"I am their Master not the other way around nurse so if you can just shut up that would be wonderful."

You stopped talking immediately and watched him rise wincing as the bandages started spotting with blood. He was almost off the table when Vicrul walked in with someone from the kitchen staff holding with two trays.

"What are you doing girl I told you he is to stay here and rest. Why is he trying to get up?"

"I told him he didn't allow me to-"

"Shut up girl that's all I need to know about you of course you couldn't do the one simple task I asked of you."

Crying for the second time today you looked at the supreme leader and he was staring right back at you. What do you want from me? you thought knowing he could hear. A silent plea hoping he could save you from his knight that was yelling at you.

"You worthless girl you shouldn't even be a healer you are irresponsible and frankly not skilled enough I am going to see it immediately that you are terminated and kicked off at the next planet we stop at."

That was the end of the line for you as much as you hated conflict and yelling you knew your worth as a healer and you knew that you are the best at what you do the best on the Finalizer and probably in the galaxy.

"If I was so irresponsible and incompetent would I have saved the Supreme Leader? Who else do you know that could've done that or would have been willing to do it as I have? Where were you and your stupid knights to protect him? Isn't that your job?."

The knight took a step back so he was not so close and looked back at the Supreme Leader you looked at the Supreme Leader and he nodded but not to you, to the knight that was just yelling at you. With that Vicrul turned back to you and cocked his head to the side as if something was wrong with you and then turned and left.

With that, the Supreme Leader laid back down. There were tears still coming out of your eyes still very confused to what has happened. X2 beeped grabbing your attention.

"Are you done crying because I'm not sure if you noticed but I am now bleeding."

You looked at him and wiped your eyes, grabbing a pair of scissors you cut the bandages that were now bloody not talking to him while you replaced them with clean ones. Once you was done you heard his stomach grumble and that amused me somehow because someone as powerful as the Supreme Leader still needs to eat.

You stared at the plate brought to you before Vicrul  started yelling and then you stared at the Supreme Leader.

"Do you want to see what they brought you for dinner? Or are you okay."

No response.

That shit was going to get real old real quick

You walked over to the metal tray you noticed it was 2 different meals, one that the infirmary calls soft diet for people who are injured semi-badly and they cant handle anything heavy so the vegetable and lentil soup that came with a roll was his. The other seemed like a feast compared to his a bowl of white rice with some type of chicken curry on another plate some flat circle bread and even something chocolatey for dessert.

You grabbed his bowl of soup and walked towards him he was staring at the ceiling

"Did you want it? Its vegetable soup."

He wrinkled his nose in disgust and you had to smile a little. The Supreme Leader didn't like vegetables.

"There is something else if you want it?"

You turned and grabbed the other plate and pulled a small table to the Supreme Leaders side, You put the food on the table and slowly started to incline the hospital bed the supreme leader he wasn't sitting all the way up but he definitely wasn't laying down either.

You grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and put it next to his bed and sat on it.

"May I assist you with your meal?" You asked softly

He shook his head, yes and you exhaled.

Finally, he's working with me.

"Its just food don't be so dramatic," he said

"Well I was just trying to save your life and I almost got killed twice so maybe I will be a little dramatic."

You put some of the curry chicken on the rice and mixed it up it was surprisingly hot still considering it stayed out when you were getting yelled at and when you were bandaging the supreme leader. You blew on the food before putting it to his mouth and he was just staring at you. His eyes were filled with disbelief and you were just confused.

"Are you okay?" You asked body still stretched out towards him one hand holding the spoon and one hand cupped under the spoon just in case some fell

He responded by eating the food.

[sennextheassasinkingoflight]

Mornings

Cursed (Tv 2020) Fanfiction Cross posted at Ao3 Rated T and up for suggestive themes 

Lancewain 

SUMMARY:  Gawain just wants to spend the morning in bed cuddling with his lover. That shouldn't be to much to ask now that the war is over. After seven years of living with Lancelot he may just get what he's after.

CEREMONY SCRIPT PULLED FROM https://greatofficiants.com/medieval-wedding-ceremony

I

Lancelot was always awake and dressed impeccably before Gawain. Normally the man had breakfast ready, whatever form it had taken for the day. It had been this way since Lancelot had been released from the makeshift prison he had been kept in and into Gawain's custody. That had been quite the fight, but ultimately Merlin and Gawain in turn with The Red Spear had managed to get the others to agree. There simply weren’t enough fey to kill one of their own, and definitely not enough Ashfolk to go killing him either. Especially if he truly had chosen to take sides with the Fey. He had one warning though, if he started anything, finished anything, killed a Fey or caused one undo harm he was done. Executed on the spot. Thankfully it had never come to that. It may have had to do with his lack of a weapon except when training. Though they all knew he could kill them if he truly wanted to. Perhaps it had to do with Squirrel being attached to the man and looking up to him, voting that he had changed and would be a good man. Perhaps it had to do with his own fascination and attraction to the man, loath as he was initially to admit the last part. Whatever the cause or reason for his change of heart Lancelot had changed. Today was not very different in that regard. Lancelot was awake over an hour before it was strictly necessary, even despite the fact that they did not have patrols today. In fact, the only things that needed their attention today, were those things that they decided to do. It was their day to rest, among some others. It was important, with rebuilding after the official end of the war for them to remember to take proper rest. There was always work to be done, food to be grown and harvested, building and temples to be erected.

Some clans were reduced to so few that they had congregated with other clans too small to sustain themselves well. Gawain was confident with Arthur and Guinevere ruling in Uthers place and sending out word that the Fey were safe in the kingdom that those numbers would increase steadily and gradually as they proved that it was indeed safe. But as with all things it would take time. There were still bands of paladins and those loyal to Cumber who sought to bring down the Fey and wreak havoc on the people of Britannia.

For now though, the two of them had fallen into a kind of domestic cohabitation, as often occurred in the case of two lovers. For that too is what they were now. It was strange to consider. They had been enemies, had nearly killed one another so often in those early days that Gawain often found himself confused as to how he could now sit across the table from the Ashman and sip tea and eat eggs like it was the most natural event that could unfold. Gawain yawned, earning a smirk from Lancelot.

“And what shall we do this afternoon?” “It’s far too early to think about that now.” Gawain rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned again.  “Why do you insist on getting up so early?” “It’s only habit, and much as I love you I do enjoy the quiet of early morning.” Offered Lancelot in response and Gawain's heart hammered harder in his chest. A smile gracing his lips.

“Are you certain it’s too late to go back to bed?”

Lancelot only smiles fondly and kisses his forehead before he leaves to help out in the kitchens as is his Saturday morning routine. He isn’t required to but he enjoys doing so and according to Kinna he is one of the best bakers they have.

II

Gawain roles over with a groan. He doesn’t even know what time it is, only that his lover is no longer in their bed. He curls himself around Lancelot's pillow and breathes deeply. A chuckle wakes him slightly further from his sleep. “I thought I was the one who did the scenting?”

Gawain groans again, “Come back to bed and we’ll find out.”

It's such a sweet offer of a challenge but Lancelot has patrol this morning. He desperately wants to do just that, but he has a duty to attend. The war may be over but that doesn’t mean they are completely safe. There are still rogue groups of Paladins and Cumbers men roaming around looking for Fey to execute. “I can’t. You know this. I’ll be back this afternoon, and we can do something then.” He leans down and kisses the top of Gawain's head and the knight smiles, burying himself further into the warmth left in places of bedmate. He knows they have duties to attend to even if he’s only half asleep, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting the morning to drag on just a while longer. After all, their home is the only place Lancelot feels safe enough to be open and forward with him. He rolls onto his back and reaches out a hand, it's only a moment before the rustling of fabric from the former monk getting dressed ceases and a sword calloused hand takes his own. He feels the press of lips against his and sighs happily. This would have to do. “Born in the dawn,” He starts, words slurred by the call of sleep. ‘To pass in the twilight.” Lancelot's voice finishes on the edge of his consciousness, his hand is squeezed. It's the last thing he knows before sleep returns to him.

III

Gawain sighs. The bed was empty and cold when he woke this morning and it frustrated him to no end. He wished he could get the older man to understand that sometimes you could take a morning off. That it was okay to have a slow morning where you relaxed. Cuddled with your lover even. There was far more to the physical side of a relationship than sex. And while the sex was very good, sometimes Gawain just wanted to be wrapped up in the others embrace knowing that he was loved and taken care of. He was certain that Lancelot needed that too. It was more than quick kisses, and the brush of fingers on bare skin, or the feel of a supportive hand on his shoulder that he craved. The problem was that he really didn’t know how to express it in a way that Lancelot would understand. Beyond that the man had had the same pattern for the last six years, and Gawain wasn’t sure he could break him of it even if they both wanted it.

He leans down and pulls on his boots, he has a meeting with Arthur early this afternoon and it will take him and the others a few hours to reach the castle. Lancelot will not be coming with them, instead he will remain in the village, because that's what it is now, not a camp to help protect it and to be available to assist its members in whatever way necessary. He and Percival are very capable of this task, and Gawain knows they won’t return to find the village in ruins. Still he wishes that the Ashman was coming, if for nothing else than the quiet companionship that he offers.

They haven’t had much time together since Gawain was deemed Elderman of the village. He is not the elder of the village but he is the one everyone goes to and he can’t seem to get away from it. He knows it is in part due to the part he played in the rebellion and because of his status as both Fey Knight and Knight of the Round Table. And yet he is beginning to loathe the position, just as he loathed being the Green Knight. It was taking away from the time and the energy he could spend with his lover and their son and the other people in his life that mattered. He knew it would likely settle as the turmoil around them slowed and peace returned to the land but for now it put things like being joined to the bottom of the list and so he still hadn’t asked. He wondered if they were married if Lancelot would be inclined to spend his mornings in bed with him.

IV

Lancelot had been made a Knight of the Round Table and so had Percival, though a bit young he had proven himself time and time again worthy of the title. That had been what the meeting was about a few weeks ago. The ceremony had been arranged for this morning, and so it came as no surprise to Gawain when he felt Lancelot leave their bed before the sun had even begun to turn the sky the yawning grey of dawn.  He lets out a defeated sigh and turns his back to Lancelot's side of the bed. It's the complete opposite of what he usually does, but even now, half awake and over tired, despite a night of sleep, it hurts him that Lancelot insists on getting up instead of spending just a little extra time with him.   “Gawain? You smell upset.” He hears Lancelot say as he feels a dip in the bed. He only lets out a slight grunt and shifts his arm under the pillow he's using drawing it closer to himself in turn with his knees. He feels defensive and he isn’t awake enough to process his actions. “Tell me whats wrong?” “It’s nothing. I'm just not ready to be awake yet.” He isn’t sure his words make sense to Lancelot, they feel heavy and odd in his mouth. “Then go back to sleep. I’ll wake you at sunrise.” The voice that responds is gentle and understanding and he wants to tell him that he should be angry at him for lying but instead he nuzzles his pillow and yawns. He lets sleep slither silently around him again and painfully ignores the fingers running through his hair, and the knuckles that caress his cheek, and his shoulder. He falls into a fitful half slumber as Lancelot readies himself for the big day. When the ceremony takes place, Gawain feels guilty for having been upset with Lancelot this morning. He’s dressed in his new surcoat and cloak. Percival is dressed similarly though sporting colors that are a mix of his and Lancelots, though the crest is his own. He smiles, pride swelling in his chest as Arthur knights them both but does not give permission for them to rise. He nearly misses his cue. Percival snickers at him and then smiles at Lancelot with a nod. He can see the confusion in those stunning blue eyes as they track him stepping forward beside Arthur. As Gawain steps forward he can’t help but smile, he takes the blade from Arthur and stands before the two most important men in his life.

He begins voice strong and clear in the air as it echos into the courtyard, “A Knight of the Fey is one with the land,

enduring as the the Great River,

and as true as Arwan’s bow.

We are born in the dawn,”

He swallows, watches as the reality of his words settles on the two infront of him and knows that his anger this morning was pointless and unnecessary. He watches as Percival swallows, tears ready to fall from his eyes as they did all those days ago. And Lancelot, sweet broken Lancelot can’t stop the tear that follows the tracks of his people or the shuddering breath he takes just before he and Percival answer in tandem, “To pass in the twilight.”

V

It is the morning of their joining, seven years to the day since Lancelot came to them. And while he would love to be wrapped up in the man and  in the comfort and warmth of their bed it is not to be. Only, he is upset that he hadn’t been able to spend the night in Lancelot's arms, Percival had insisted on him staying over going on about bad luck or some such thing. So he had, it couldn’t hurt to spend the evening in Percivals company. He knew the boy probably needed it as much as Gawain realized he himself did. So they drank and sang songs and spoke about a great many things, including the girl who had Percivals fancy. This morning came with a slight hangover and the absence of his lover but it was the furthest thing from the worst morning he had ever had. He was brimming with excitement and buzzing with energy and could barely sit still long enough to eat breakfast. Percival shook his head at him and then they were getting ready. Gawain would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. The day went by incredibly fast between losing himself in his thoughts, getting ready, and the influx of visitors he had. But not once did he catch sight of Lancelot. It is just before noon that their vows are to take place. As the time approached Gawain felt the nervousness return tenfold. He was a warrior, a knight, he should not be nervous about this and yet he was. It would not change anything about the way he and Lancelot loved one another, but it was important and he didn’t want to mess it up. He approached the dias from the left as they agreed. Lancelot would come from the right. There was no need for traditional aisle walking. And yet as they approached the stage on which the ceremony would take place, the rest of the world died away. In a moment he was reminded of just how spectacular and stunning the man he loved was. Dark curls hung just past his ears, sunlight shining where it was laced with blond. Blue eyes like the depths of a still lake surrounded by the marks of his people. He loved those the most of all Lancelot's features. They were striking and fierce as war paint, and as sad as heartbreak, and yet when Lancelot smiled they reminded him of life and love as they did at this very moment. When they met at centre stage he could not hold back the smile on his lips. He did not know for certain the last time he felt joy like this, but he would not soon forget this day. When he met Lancelot's eyes, he found the same sentiment reflected back at him.

After a moment the officiant, Elder of the Skyfolk, spoke. “Say thy vows if thou gives them freely.”

And so they did, they spoke boldly and truthfully. With passion and love. They promised as all do to be faithful and true and to be present always and forever and more. They promised to keep no secrets, to reconcile all heartaches, to be slow in anger and to be just in their actions. They swore to cherish, to love and be united as equals in all endeavors. When they had finished proclaiming their promises to one another the officiant spoke once more a smile on her face. “Join hands.”

So they did with barely a glance, so well in sync their eyes could hold conversations mid battle, or mid marriage. The people watching them didn’t matter, the sun to bright and hot didn’t matter. What mattered was this moment in which they told the world they had chosen one another, and told each other they meant every whispered word of endearment and parise and love.  No one spoke as the Elder placed the three cords over their hands, the burgundy cord to symbolize romance, partnership and happiness, ivory for peace, sincerity and devotion, and gold which represents unity, prosperity and longevity. And finally he spoke out

“As this knot is tied, so are your lives now bound. Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all the hopes of thy friends and family, and of thyselves, for a new life together.

With the fashioning of this knot you tie all the desires, dreams, love, and happiness wished here in this place to your lives for as long as love shall last.

In the joining of hands and the fashioning of a knot, so are your lives now bound, one to another.

By this cord you are thus now and forevermore bound to your vow.

May this knot remain tied for as long as love shall last. May this cord draw your hands together in love, never to be used in anger.

May the vows you have spoken never grow bitter in your mouths. As any child discovers when they are learning to tie their own shoes, the first move is to cross the ends.

The cross creates the (X), which is the symbol of partnership and union. As your hands are bound by this cord, so is your partnership held by the symbol of this knot.

Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which brings strength to this union.

Hold tight to one another through both good times and bad, and watch as your strength grows.

I shall now remove the cords.

Thou hast pledged troth of thy own free will and have been bound together by the ritual of the cords.

May it be granted that what is done before the gods be not undone by man.

Before I proclaim you joined thou must kiss three times on cue,’ Lancelot raised an eye brow and Gawain only shrugged too enamored by the man in front of him to care that it was ridiculous. Besides what did it matter if they kissed thrice now, there was certain to be many more this day, and the days to come.

“Once for luck, Twice for Love and Thrice for Long life. By the Power Vested in my by the Realm I now pronounce you married.”

The day ended in dancing and laughter and glee.

 +1

It was the morning after their wedding and Gawain woke to the familiar feeling of Lancelot leaving their bed. He sighed, assuming the other simply needed to relieve himself. It was their first morning wed, surely he would stay in bed and cuddle with him. It had to be obvious that they weren’t meant to do anything today, anything that didn’t involve the other and staying squarely in this bed. Unfortunately, the familiar sound of fabric rustling removed any traces of sleep from Gawain as he sat up abruptly in their bed. "What are you doing? We could keep cuddling." The words leave him before he can process what it actually was he intended to say. He ducks his chin embarrassed and can feel Lancelot's eyes on him, as though he’s being seen for the first time. Slowly the man responds, voice uncertain.

"Not if I'm going to walk around this camp properly dressed."

"You mean boiling to death and looking gloomy. Why do you have to start getting dressed an hour before sun up anyways? Besides that you realize no one expects us to leave this house today, let alone this bed. We just got married. Come lie back down!"

His demand is met by shock and surprise as they settle on Lancelot's features and then turn to a blush as he shifts embarrassed. Gawain can’t help but laugh, of course this man wouldn’t think of something like that, not that he could fault him. His upbringing certainly didn’t lend to romantic inclination. He stares as the dark haired man shifts uncomfortably on the other side of the bed.

"it takes that long to lace my surcoat...." and now it's his turn to be taken aback. “What?” “It takes an hour to get the damn garment on.” Lancelot says louder and much more upset than Gawain thinks he should be. He can’t help the cackle that leaves him as he shifts in the bed to more fully face his husband .

"Come back to bed for half an hour."

"It's like you don’t even listen."  Lancelot sighs and shifts his clothing around.

“All this time, that's why you haven’t stayed in bed with me in the mornings.” He groans, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Listen, if you decide that you have to get up and get dressed and do things, which I think you'll find you won’t, I'll get up with you and it will take half the time. Now come back to bed so I can kiss you senseless."

In the span of a few seconds the air is knocked from his lungs as he is pushed back against the mattress and his pillows, Lancelot's nose pressed into his neck and their bodies pressed firmly together. His brain, it seems, takes too long to process what just happened as Lancelot whines against his ear,

"Well what are you waiting for?"  It's all the permission he needs as he rolls them to the side and pulls him close, kissing him passionately in the process.

[samthemarvelfan]

Goodbyes: Chapter Six

Summary: Ella Monroe is the Avengers newest recruit, handpicked by Steve Rogers himself. Indebted to him for reasons unknown, Cap pairs her up with Bucky Barnes. He is tasked with training her to relearn and hone the skills that have long since rusted. Bucky is cold and distant, and Ella can’t seem to break through the wall he’s built up for decades. He sees something in her though, and it scares him to death. Has the fate of these two strangers been sealed? …or will they always be longing…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC, feat Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson

Warnings: DARKER THEMES AHEAD. Angst, Bucky is a dick, mutual pining, self sabotage, male-on-female violence, description of injuries, PTSD, mentions of medical talk? Sloooooow burn ahead. Fluff!

A/N: guys guys GUYS! Get ready for a lil fluff! The balls gonna get rollin’ and its a non-stop ride now. I hope you all enjoy, any and all feedback is appreciated! <3 Happy Valentine’s Day!

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)

Ow. That’s the only thought going through your head. Your eyes open and judging by the IV’s in your arm, you’re in a hospital. The events that landed you here start flooding your mind. You remember the HYDRA base, the agents, and the pain, but where is everyone? Where’s Steve? Sam? Where’s Bucky?

You sigh, Bucky.

He’d been so mad at you for ignoring him...a commanding officer. You’re in a huge amount of trouble—no doubt about that. You decide now isn’t the time to think about that, after all you were just shot.

You wanted to know if you’d dreamt him carrying you into the jet. If it was all just delirium from blood loss when you thought he was caring for you, assuring you that you’d be okay. You wanted to see him. Hell you needed too.

“Shit...” you seethe. Your right arm is in a sling and your shoulder is bandaged tightly. You scoot attempting to shimmy your body up so you could sit up some more. The sound of the door opening caught your attention, and when you saw him walk in you almost fainted.

Sergeant Barnes entered your hospital room, two water bottles in hand, dressed in black sweats with a tight, black cotton shirt. He’s being quiet as to not wake you. When he realizes you’re up he freezes, though. Unsure if he should be there at all.

“Hey...” you practically whisper. He says nothing, but takes this as an approval of his presence. There’s a chair next to your bed... right next to your bed. So close that the arm of the chair is indenting the side of mattress. Bucky grips the chair and moves it out from the bed a foot or two, then sits in it.

“Where am I?” You ask him quietly. It is then you notice that his jacket had been hanging on the chair he moved from your bed. Had he been here while you were asleep?

He opens the top of one of the water bottles, and hands it to you. “You’re at the compound. This is the med unit.” He speaks softly.

You take a sip of the cold water, relishing the hydration it gives your body. “I didn’t even know we had a medical unit on-site.” You say in an attempt to make conversation.

He stops to lock his gaze on yours. “And you wouldn’t have, had you just listened to me last night.” He sounds annoyed with you already, but also worried.

“Sam was in trouble. Steve didn’t respond to his distress call and neither did you, I did what I thought needed to be done.” To you it was simple. Your friend was in trouble, and you helped him.

“You defied a direct order, Ella.” There he goes, using your name again. “There could be serious consequences to that. If I wanted to, I could have you dismissed from the Cadet program all together.” His tone was serious but he wasn’t threatening you, he was just stating a fact.

You cleared your throat, before looking at him and fiddling with the head of your shirt. “Is that what you want?” You ask.

Why wouldn’t that be what he wants? He makes it pretty clear you’re a huge thorn in his side, and he doesn’t enjoy your company. This is an easy out for him, get rid of you and ease his work load in the process.

He smiled softly to himself. Smiled? Was that a smile on those perfect lips?

“No,” he said softly. “I just—“ 

Bucky was cut off by a tap at the door, causing him to stand quickly and move away from you even more.

“Knock-Knock...” You knew that voice. “Hey Ella, how are you doing?” Steve asks, sitting at the edge of your hospital bed.

You smile at him, unsure of what you’ve done in your life to deserve such a good friend. “I’m okay I promise. I’m just so sorry for all the trouble I caused.” You glance to Bucky, who’s gaze seemed to be locked on your shoulder.

“Can we get you anything?” Steve asks sincerely.

You shake your head, “I’m okay. I swear, I’m not looking forward to the scar this is gonna leave, but at least Sam is okay.”

Sergeant Barnes’ demeanor changed suddenly. You felt the tension in the room build and you didn’t like it. Why does he do this when other people are around?

“Sergeant Barnes,” you call to him, when his eyes meet yours you feel you heart do back-flips. How can someone be so gentle one moment and so cruel the next?

“Thank you for staying with me, and for helping me last night. I don’t know what would have happened had it not been for—“

He interrupts you, “Get this straight, Cadet. Out there—that’s the real world. The threats were dealing with are real,”

His eyes shift between yourself and Steve, who is looking at his friend with disappointment.

“The consequences are too. You get hurt, or worse...” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “The shit storm comes down on me, and people wonder why I put up with a recruit who can’t follow a simple instruction in the first place.”

Your heart falls into your stomach. “All I can do is apologize, Sergeant.” What else can you say? He clearly doesn’t wanna hear excuses, so there’s no point in trying to defend yourself.

“Despite all that,” Steve starts, “You did great out there. I don’t know if Sam,” He looks to Bucky, “or any of us would be here if you didn’t take the initiative.”

A small smile creeps across your lips, “Thanks, Cap.” The wound in your shoulder starts to throb from your elevated blood pressure. You grit your teeth, adjusting yourself on the cot.

“You’re sure you don’t need anything?” Steve asked, guilt painting his word. He rested his hand on yours, earning a stern glare from Bucky. You watch him subtly out of you peripherals, his jaw was clenched as was his metal fist.

You close your eyes momentarily, wrestling with the pain you feel in your shoulder.

“I’m alright. I just need...time.”

Bucky scoffed. “Time? You need to learn to listen to orders.”

“Buck—“ Steve started, removing his hand from yours.

He continued, “You wouldn’t be in a hospital if you could follow a simple command. You risked everyone’s safety because you’re too stubborn to do as you’re told.”

My eyes narrowed at Sergeant Barnes. Why does he do this? He treats you so differently when Steve is around, and you’re about fed the-fuck up.

“Ya know what? You’re absolutely right.” You say firmly, attempting to stand from the bed.

“Ella, just relax. He didn’t mean—“ Steve interjected.

“No Cap, I know exactly what he means.” You got to your feet; pride being the only thing hiding the pain from your face.

“Sergeant Barnes has made it very clear from the beginning what he thinks of me. What was it you said a few weeks back? Oh right, that I’m incompetent, I’m lazy, and I’m spoiled. I’m a rookie who would run from a fight the minute it started.”

Steve’s thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of his nose, before looking at his friend. He subtly shook is head at Bucky, who kept his eyes locked on you, jaw tightly clenched.

“Guess what Sarge,” you say with disdain, gesturing to your shoulder. “I didn’t run did I?”

Bucky doesn’t speak, and his gaze on you is unyielding. “From now, keep your two-faced ass away from me.” You felt that all too familiar sting prick your eyes as you rip the IV from your arm. “You don’t know a God damn thing about me, Barnes.”

You pushed by them both, finally allowing the hot tears to stain your face as you head for your room.

“Mother...fucker...” You groan. You’re attempting to change your bandages, but unable to get it wrapped fully around your shoulder. Even with a mirror, it was impossible to do using your opposite hand.

You almost had it when a knock at the door made you jump. “Shit! Yeah, what is it?” You call, looking to the door.

The door opened slowly, revealing a casually dressed Bucky on the other side of it. You turned your back immediately, tending to your bandages again.

“What do you want?” You sneer.

He was quiet for a few seconds. You almost didn’t think he was going to say anything, until that familiar, irritated sigh passed through his lips.

“Christ, let me help you.” He said taking a few steps into your room.

You groaned. “I do not need your help.”

He scoffed. “Fine. Wrap your bandages poorly and get that wound infected.” He knew you wouldn’t protest, and shut your bedroom door.

You sigh, rolling your eyes so hard you thought they’d get stuck. You stood from the seat you had taken at your desk, walking up to him with as much attitude as you could muster and shove the gauze into Bucky’s chest. The force doesn’t move him an inch. “Just hurry up.” You command.

He unrolls the gauze, ripping it with his teeth when he deems it long enough. Bucky looks at the half-assed job you did on yourself and let’s out a chuckle.

“What is so damn funny?” You ask, annoyed to your core.

“Nothing, I just think it’s ridiculous you’d risk losing an arm for the sake of your pride.” He jested.

“What, not something you’d recommend?” You joke, nodding to his metal appendage.

He lets out a breath of laughter, “Not exactly, no.”

Bucky undoes you’re bandages, watching the pain form on your face as he moves over the open wound.

“Shit...” you intake a sharp breath of air causing him to pause. He watches you grip the edge of the table so hard, your knuckles go white.

He softly grips the spot above your elbow. “Just...take a deep breath. I’ll move as fast as I can.“ Bucky’s voice coaxes the tension from your muscles, and you relax.

Doing as he says, you inhale deeply through your nose and out through your mouth. Bucky attempts works quickly, seeing the discomfort in your face. The rough tips of his fingers cause chills to go through your body. He notices, and you hear him swallow hard.

The skin he passes over is burning, calling out for him to touch you again. You feel his warm breath on your neck, as you shudder. His body heat keeping your muscles relaxed.

“Almost done. Keep breathing.” He whispers in your ear. The smoothness in his voice coats your eardrum like honey, sending your body into a hypnotic buzz.

When he finishes he places his right hand on your bicep. His thumb stroking the smooth skin of your arm a few times. “All set, Els.” He speaks, using his nickname for you again.

You spin around to see he’s mere inches from you. “That um, that’s perfect.” You whisper. Your eyes flicker over his lips, and his do the same to yours. 

He’s so handsome. You think, Ya know, when he’s not being a total dick.

He stands to his feet quickly, breaking the intimate trance you shared. He disposed of the used bandages, and you realize that you indeed needed more help than you were willing to admit.

“Thank you.” You mumble in his general direction. You hated this, how you wanted to forgive him for all the horrible things he said to you and about you.

“You’re welcome.” He says softly.

Another moment of silence passes between you two. This is the Bucky you wanted all the time. This Bucky was kind and gentle and actually cared about you, or at least he made it seem like he did.

“So why did you come here? To my room? The last time you were here, you made it clear you didn’t wanna see me again.” You ask.

“That’s not true.” He said quickly defending himself. “You left the med unit before you were suppose to, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well as you can see, I’m fine.” You retort.

He looks at the ground for a moment. “I’m glad.”

You nod, as a sigh escapes your lips. The way he affects you isn’t insignificant. It means something, at least to you.

“Bucky, what are we doing?” You ask softly.

He doesn’t protest as you use his name, but rather looks at you confused. “What do you mean?”

You stand with a scoff, “This! I mean here you are, in my room...again. We’re alone and it’s private and it’s intimate so you’re being,” he steps closer as you fumble over your words, “I don’t know, you’re being the guy I wish you were all the time. When we get around people and it’s like you can’t stand the sight of me.”

He takes a step towards you again.

“I wanna know where I stand with you.” You say shyly.

He swallows hard, “This is the second time you’ve been hurt on my watch.” His face was pained as he looked at your wound.

You reach out for his hand instinctively, trying to show him that it’s not his fault. When your hand grasps his, he gently pulls you into him, playing with your fingers for a moment.

“I don’t know how to stay away from you. I’m trying, Doll. Really I am. Every time you’re around me you’re in danger and this,” he gestured to you shoulder, “This just proves it.”

He’s holding your hand with both of his now, “I want to keep you safe.”

“I’m okay, Bucky. I promise.” Is all you can say.

A breath of laughter leaves his lips, “You’re always okay, aren’t you?”

You smile, and nod. “I am...but I’m better when you’re around. Like this,—this feels...”

Bucky held you closer, encroaching your small frame with his. He’s mere inches from you now.

“It feels right, Buck.” You say, look up at him through your lashes.

He drops your hands gently, and cups your cheek with his right, holding your waist with his cool left one.

He swallows hard as he presses his forehead to yours, “I know it does, Doll. I know.”

You’re gripping his arms as he holds you. His eyes closed, breathing deeply. 

“What are you doing to me, Ella?” He whispered so low, if he wasn’t holding you, you wouldn’t have heard it.

A small smile graced your lips, “I could ask you the same thing, Sarge.”

Bucky holds you like that for a moment or two, before he gently lets you go and takes a step backward. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

He sighed thoughtfully, “Don’t think because you’re injured it excuses you from training. You may not be able to do hand to hand combat, but we will train your non-dominant arm to do everything your dominant one can.”

Ah, there he is. Reminding you once again that he is your commanding officer and you are his...burden.

Despite his words, a smile graced your face. “Y-you’re training me?”

He nods, and you notice the corners of his mouth turn up. “Yes. At least that way I’ll be able to keep an eye on you, and try and get some of Sam’s sloppy habits outta your head.”

“What time?” You ask happily.

He looks at you. His cerulean eyes mapping your shoulder up to your face. He reaches out and strokes your cheek with a smile, “7 A.M. Not a minute later.”

You stand from the edge of your bed, “Sir yes Sir.”

“Goodnight, Els.” He whispered.

You smiled softly, “G’night, Buck.”

That night, you had the best sleep you’ve had since being here.

...and so did Bucky.

Chapter Seven: Left