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neutron-stars-collision · 5 years ago

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The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 11 - What If This Is All The Love You’ll Ever Get?

Masterlist; Chapter 10

Summary: The brief peace you experience does not last long. And this time the consquences cannot be ignored.

Warnings: Swearing; it gets quite angsty with some mentions of loss, excessive drinking and such... (I’m sorry)

Author’s Notes: Right so... this is post-Kiev, before Mumbai film-wise. It gets intense for which I’m sorry (trust me this wasn’t fun to write). I hope you enjoy nonetheless and please let me know what you think! Feedback makes my days so much better <3

It turned out that if you and Neil were forced to cooperate (long-distantly yet still), it could work out pretty well. Kiev was a success, to put it simply. Yes, the opera house got partially blown up, and TP’s initial operation became a ‘massive fuck-up’ (as Neil put it), but the boss himself made it. You have been assured about that by some remote Tenet connections you did not even know they had. Now it was their time to step into the game. So you waited patiently for Neil’s return while keeping yourself occupied with other random small tasks for the organization. You went back to texting him rather frequently as well, having decided that friends are allowed to have little chats like that. Also, because you could not deny yourself that guilty pleasure…

He came back just as it was planned, four days after your awkward goodbye (which still haunted you at night). It was late in the evening, and you were finishing a report needed for the morning when you heard a knock on the door.

“Hey you” Neil smiled when you opened the door.

You eyed him quickly, noticing the wrinkles on his clothes, ruffled hair, and tired eyes. It became pretty obvious he came to see you straight after coming back. And that idea made you feel… strange.

“Hey” you smiled back and left the ajar for him “When did you come back?” you watched him sit down on the bed and stretch his arms elegantly.

You could not hide the small smile that showed on your face at the sight. He met your gaze with a little grin of his own before answering:

“Just arrived back from the airport. Left stuff in my room, and here I am” he opened his arms to emphasise the point, and you laughed.

“I can see that. Aren’t you tired though?” once again, you warily searched his face.

But apart from being shocked at how beautiful he was, you got nothing concrete.

“I’d rather talk to you than sleep” he shrugged as though it was obvious. You blushed and looked down at your lap before closing the documents. The report would have to wait.

“How was the mission?” you turned back to him and watched, mesmerised, as he rolled up the sleeves and leaned back on his forearms.

Having Neil chill on your bed was certainly not an image you expected to see this evening.

“Well, you were there in spirit, so you probably know” he grinned “But if you want details…” he trailed off to gather his thoughts, “It was surprisingly easy to enter despite the ongoing siege with two different groups fighting inside. Then all I had to do was wait and try not to draw attention to myself”

“Where did you wait in the end?”

You have discussed the different options he had a day before the attack.

“A lovely storage room backstage” his eyes sparked “Would’ve been more fun if you were there with me” he smirked.

So nothing’s changed then.

“Did you find TP with no problems?” your swift change of topic did not go unnoticed.

But this time, he obeyed.

“Once shit started going off, I went back into the concert hall, and there he was. Trying to save all those civilians from being blown to pieces” Neil looked pensive for a moment “But then just as I thought that I would not be needed there, I saw movement near him. Someone has shot an inverted round there” he met your gaze “So I collected the bullet, making sure it went through whoever that was threatening TP and left just as quickly” he took off the shoes and went back to relaxing on your bed.

“He noticed you?”

“Probably yeah. But to him, I was just a handy help in a rather messy situation” he smiled “Enough about that. How have you been?” this time it was his turn to search your face.

You wondered what he found there.

“Alright, I guess” you smile lightly “When I wasn’t busy helping you, I was mostly working on some boring reports”

“Sounds fascinating” he grinned “Anything fun happened while I was away?” now he was lying on his side with head propped on the elbow.

For a second, you thought about the fact that your pillow might smell like him over night.

“Apart from Anna nearly slamming the door in my face yesterday… not really” you frowned at the memory.

“What?!” Neil’s eyes widened in shock.

“Yeah, well… think she just didn’t see me following her through the door, but I almost ended up with a concussion”

“That doesn’t sound like her but, then…” it was Neil’s turn to frown.

“After everything, I wouldn’t be surprised” you murmured and met his gaze with a weary smile.

You probably had to get used to the rush of butterflies you felt every time your eyes met. He stared at you with an inquisitive look. You were acutely aware that you were both probably recollecting the events from a few days ago. To stop the flood of images from making you do something stupid, you got up:

“Do you want a tea?” you busily stared at the kettle.

“Yeah sure” you could hear the self-satisfaction in his voice.

While you got busy with preparing two cups of tea, you could feel his eyes on you. Then a text alert broke the silence that fell. You turned to see him type an answer. For an absolutely unknown reason, you wanted to know who was messaging him. And why. But instead, you had to try not to pour boiling water all over your hand. At which you failed.

“Fuck” you hissed on reflex and hoped he has not noticed.

But nothing seemed to go past those deep blue eyes.

“Are you alright?” he sat up and watched you from across the room.

“Yeah, just clumsy as fuck” once the tea was brewing, you could assess the damage.

Apart from a little sore skin, you should live. When you turned to give Neil his mug, you were faced with a very smug grin.

“Don’t tell me you got jealous over a text from TP” he pushed his phone into your hands.

You stared blankly at the recent texts. The last one was his response to The Protagonist. One before that was to you. And nothing more remarkable after that. You felt very stupid. But thankfully, Neil was done with taunting. At least for the moment.

“It’s okay” he took his phone back and then gently cradled your hurt hand “Swear I won’t mention this again”

“If you will, I’ll shoot you” you glared at him, trying to ignore the waves of shame threatening to spill from your system.

“Now that’s quite dramatic, don’t you think?” he looked up at you and grinned.

Then he kissed your knuckles and released his hold on your hand. You were finally free, and you were not going to waste that.

“I’ll… I’ve got to go the bathroom for a sec… sorry” you bolted to the door with newly found energy.

Just before you locked the door, you heard him say:

“I’ve missed you”

Fuck. You pressed your back against the closed door and took a deep breath. The sting of the burn was nearly gone, but the shame burned just as strongly through your body. Now you understood why Jasper called you pathetic. That was probably the best adjective to describe your behaviour. Slowly, you calmed down the racing heart and opted to take off make-up as a relaxing task. It worked, and soon you also decided to change into some nightclothes. It was late, and it was safe to assume that Neil would leave for the night in the not too far future. Finally, you took long fifteen minutes to coach yourself to go back out into the room. It was a rather difficult task as you had enough humiliation for the day. But at the same time, you wanted to spend as much time as you could with him.

Was addiction to Neil a thing? Because you might have just diagnosed yourself with it, you mused while exiting the bathroom. Outside, you were faced with a surprising yet adorable sight of the man himself curled up on your bed and snoring. His face was relaxed with no frown lines visible, and the abandoned mug of tea steamed on the bedside table. You noticed that he took your blanket and covered himself with it. You could not stop the smile that showed on your face when you took in the image. However, that also left you with a rather difficult decision… He certainly left enough space for you on the bedside facing the wall. But also, that was a bit risky… was it not? You contemplated taking a spare pillow and nodding off on the floor. But as soon as that thought entered your mind, the pathetic side decided to object. Friends are allowed to share a bed right? You sighed, switched off the lights, and carefully stepped over Neil’s form to lie down. You made sure to leave all the space you could before you turned to the wall and let the tiredness take you. As a parting thought, you realised that his presence next to you felt right somehow.

*** Waking up to the sound of your alarm was a harsh experience. Unconsciously, you reached out to turn off the brutal device and sighed with happiness when you succeeded. Only then, your brain began to catch up with reality. And especially with the fact that there was an arm draped over your stomach, with fingers touching the bare skin where your top rode up. The alarm has woken him too as you felt him hug you closer to his chest. You felt a warm breath on the back of your neck.

“I could get used to waking up like this” you shivered at the way his voice reverberated through your chest.

Before you could react, he pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck and followed it with a trail of pecks down your spine, as far as your shirt allowed. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to level breathing. His fingers softly caressing the strip of skin just above the hemline of your trousers made your brain short-circuit. It was all too much. You had to move, or else you could not be responsible for anything that would happen.

Quickly you turned in the embrace to face him. The closeness made your breath hitch. Neil stared at you with a small smile on his lips. You knew that the innocence was nothing but a façade. You had to distract yourself and him, so you scrambled for anything to say. Glancing down at his shirt collar, you found the words:

“Maybe you should stop falling asleep in suits” you aimed for a neutral tone, but the moment his eyes lit up, you knew it was pointless.

“If you wanted me to undress, all you had to do was ask” he smirked when seeing your mild panic.

Bloody fantastic.

He was still too close. And the way he glanced down at your lips for a split second did not help the situation either.

“Right… I’ve had that alarm set for a reason” you rushed to get up and climb over him.

But naturally, Neil had other ideas. When you leaned over him to push yourself up, he took your hands in his, forcing you to lie partially on top of him. You stared in shock, suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. His blue eyes stared back at you with that unreadable expression you have seen before. You took the time to look at him, his wild bed hair and two-day stubble on the chin.

If you were allowed, you could get used to this…

“Is this one of those moments when I should be the voice of reason?” when you found your voice again, it was weirdly hoarse.

“Maybe…” he grinned and squeezed your hands “How’s your burn?”

Only now you actually remembered about your embarrassing moment from the previous night. At the reminder, you felt your face grow warm. The moment was gone.

“It’s fine” you muttered and moved to get up.

This time he let you go, but you were sure you saw a brief look of disappointment on his face.

“What is your plan for today?” he asked while reaching for yesterday’s tea.

You frowned at that.

“Sure you don’t want a new one?” you gestured towards the mug.

“Nah, don’t want your martyrdom to go wasted” he winked and finished the cold drink.

“You really want to get shot, my dear” you mused while eyeing him sharply.

“My dear?” he sat up and looked at you with one eyebrow arched curiously.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. It was so much easier to talk with him like that when you had a little bit of space preserved.

“You don’t have a monopoly on nicknames”

“Of course not” Neil got up and folded the blanket he used “But it’s nice to hear that you consider me ‘yours’ in any way, my dear” he winked and crossed the room “I’ll see you around later” he kissed you on the cheek and was gone before you could process anything.

In the end, you never got to tell him what your plan for the day was.

*** The next three days went in relative peace. You started to build a pleasant routine in the organization, and ever since he was back, you could incorporate time spent with Neil into it. Every morning you would attend a sparring session (with Ives or whoever was handy), then a shooting training to keep yourself in shape. After that, meetings and missions briefings where you would help with the logistical side of the operations. In the evening, you ate dinner with Neil in the dining hall. Undoubtedly that was a highlight of the day for you when you could use the hour and a half window to get to know him better. Apart from that first blunder in your attempts at friendship-like behaviour, it all went rather smoothly. Neil did his best to cooperate. The only times when he was proving to be difficult were the goodbyes during which he made it his goal to make you flustered. The kisses on the cheek became a routine thing. And so did his tendency to gaze into your eyes for extended periods of time. You did not mind either of those things.

The lack of concrete news about the unfolding plan sometimes made you almost forget about it. But you did not dare relax, remembering TPs words about the upcoming events. And so, you waited patiently, preparing in any way you could think of.

The fragile peace got disrupted during one of your evening meals. You were mid-conversation concerning Neil’s past experiences in the Navy when Ives approached your table:

“Evening lovebirds” you grudgingly accepted the nickname he chose for you both.

“What is it?” Neil instantly sensed trouble, judging by the frown that showed on his face.

“TP is calling us to the US. Urgently” Ives looked at you apologetically “Just me and Neil, sorry love”

“That’s okay” you met Neil’s gaze over the table “You two are more crucial to the whole organization than I am” you shrugged.

Neil looked as though he wanted to argue but chose not to. Luckily.

“When do we have to leave?” he asked Ives.

“Ideally in an hour”

“Shit” he took a moment to gather his thoughts “Okay, I’ll meet you in the reception in 45mins”

Ives only nodded and left without a further word. You stared at Neil, who eyed his half-full plate mournfully.

“At least you’ll get some nice food on the plane” you offered upon seeing his internal debate.

“But the company won’t be as good” he looked up and smiled sadly.

“That’s quite harsh on Ives” you joked, trying to ignore the inexplicable sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Neil laughed, but you could tell that he was worried too. Using the only way you knew to assure him, you reached out across the table and squeezed his hand.

“You should pack” you brushed your thumb over his knuckles “I’ll see you when you’re back”.

He entwined his fingers with yours and met your gaze for a moment. You could see that he was hesitant, as though he wanted to say something you would not like. Then he made up his mind because he released his hold over your hand and got up to stand next to you.

“I’ll miss you” he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Before you could answer, he left the hall. You took a deep breath, aware of the strange feeling creeping into your brain. Hopefully, it is nothing but anxiety, you sighed and went back to eating, acutely aware of the loneliness.

*** The peace you got when Neil and Ives left lasted for about twelve hours. A good night text from Neil calmed your nerves slightly as it meant he made it safely to the HQs. You tried to get an early night, but it did not happen. Instead, you spent three hours staring at the ceiling in the dark, trying to convince your stubborn brain that it worried for nothing. After all, urgent missions happened all the time, right? Well, your logic was desperately trying not to fail while faced with an irrational voice that never seemed to shut up. In the end, you resorted to taking a sleeping pill and hoping to catch at least 5 hours long nap.

That plan was cut short by a sharp ringing at 7 am coming from your phone resting on the bedside table. You looked at the display to see Ives as the caller ID. This could not be good. A sudden shock made you sit up and pick up the phone despite being barely able to open your eyes.

“Yes?” you cleared your throat when you heard your raspy voice.

“Y/N…” you have never heard Ives’ use your first name.

Fuck… The world went black for a millisecond. You felt lightheaded. Something was terribly wrong.

“What’s going on?” panic was creeping into your voice.

“Neil… he found TP in his room…” his voice was breaking “He’s gone” you heard him take in a shaky breath “TP is gone”

Your heart skipped a beat. Your vision blurred as you reached out to touch the wall to feel something steady beneath your fingertips. For a short second, you forgot how to breathe. Then as you started to struggle for the oxygen, you took greedy breaths, hoping to calm down. It was not working.

“Are you there?” Ives’ panicked voice broke through the paralysis.

“How did it happen?” you choked out the question, feeling tears well up in your eyes.

“He…” Ives stifled a sob “He took a cyanide pill”

You could not stop the sobs that came then. Only after you could take in a full breath, you spoke again.

“Why?”

“No one knows. He saw Neil and me when we arrived. Then I went to sleep, and Neil woke me up” you could hear the strain in his voice.

“How’s he?” you feared the answer to the question.

Somehow you knew there was a reason why it was not him calling you. But the explanation for that was too terrifying to be admitted aloud.

“Bad” the grave tone made you panic again.

“Fuck” you inhaled sharply.

“You should come via the next plane. He has to be in Mumbai by the twentieth, and I don’t think we can sort him out without you”

You winced at the serious tone.

“Okay, I’ll try to get there as soon as I can” you bolted up from the bed “Please try to look after him” you hated the pleading tone.

“I’ll try though it’s hard to do when he’s locked himself in his room and isn’t letting anyone in”

Shit. The dizziness returned, and you leaned on the wall for support. To say that you were worried would be an understatement. Everyone knew how much Neil cared about TP. The helplessness was frustrating. You wanted to scream and let it out.

“Just do what you can” you sighed “Stay strong, Ives”

“Don’t hang up yet”

“Why, what’s wrong?” his sudden change of tone made you even more concerned.

“Nothing, it’s just that I think you should know about something… about Neil”

“Yes?”

“He should be the one telling you but fuck that” he sounded hesitant.

“Ives” the agitation won over any other emotion “Please”

“Neil lost someone very important to him nearly two years ago during a mission. It was an accident, but Neil blames himself for what happened as he was leading the attack”

“Okay…” you needed a moment to process the information.

“I just wanted you to know in case it mattered”

“Thank you… What was their name?” that was the only question you could think of.

“Alex. He was an agent and joined Tenet at the same time Neil did. They were together”

The only immediate thought was that you wished you knew before. Maybe then you could have been a better friend. However, Ives’ took your silence as something else.

“Is that okay?” he sounded genuinely worried.

“Of course, I don’t care who he was with. Only that he’s hurting right now” you glanced at the watch “I should start packing. I’ll see you soon, I hope” you hung up.

You tried your hardest not to breakdown while throwing random clothing articles into the bag. You tried calling Neil, but he has not picked up. You just sent him a message:

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to get there soon”.

There was not much else you could do. Apart from trying to preserve sanity.

*** The plane journey to Boston was a blurry memory. You spent the 8 hours trying not to cry publicly and ignoring the temptation to get drunk to numb the pain and worry. Once you landed, the anxiety got worse. With shaking hands, you went through the customs and into the arrivals hall. All the while, you tried not to think too much about the last time you visited the airport and about Neil’s steady hand guiding you. He still has not responded to your text, and that made you think about the worst. You calmed down your anxious stomach just enough to get into the car sent by the HQ and relaxed into the leather seat. Just twenty minutes now.

But before you could reach any mental clarity, your phone buzzed. You took it out of the pocket and nearly dropped it onto the car floor upon seeing the text. It was from TP. You gasped and unlocked the device to read it.

“When this reaches you, you most likely know what happened. I’m sorry, but there was no other way. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t know that you, Neil, and the rest are ready. I trust you, Y/N, and that’s why I have decided to make you responsible for the logistical side of the plan. Once you’re ready, materials are waiting for you in the inbox. Please take care. I know I don’t have to ask you to help Neil but make sure he doesn’t blame himself”

It was clear that he scheduled the messaged to come through after he was gone. And you had a feeling it was only the first one of many. You only had time to wipe the tears from your eyes before the car parked in front of the Tenet building, and you were forced to get out. Once you got through the security booth, you spotted Ives waiting in the reception hall. He had his head bowed, staring at the floor. None of his usual confidence was there. Once you approached, he sensed company and looked up. You were struck by the dark circles underneath his eyes.

“Hey” suddenly you did not know what to say.

“Thank god you’re here” Ives shook off the hesitation and hugged you tightly.

You returned the embrace, feeling tears well up again. You stepped back and sniffed, accepting the offered tissues. Only now you noticed how quiet and empty it was in the building despite the hour.

“How is the situation?” you did not even know how to ask any specific questions.

“Very bad” Ives frowned, and you felt like he was holding back.

“Take me to him, please” you shivered involuntarily.

He did not need more convincing and started leading you through the corridors.

“He hasn’t left the room since midnight when I last saw him” Ives started speaking, “I’m pretty sure he’s drinking” he stopped in front of a regular door in yet another corridor.

“Right… Has he let anyone in?” you strained to hear any potential sounds from within, but there was nothing.

“No” Ives shook his head.

You could tell that he was incredibly tired and worried. You had to be the strong one this time.

“Why do you think I’ll be different?”

You placed one shaky hand on the surface of the door.

“Because it’s you” you could tell he was barely restraining the urge to roll his eyes “You’re probably the only person he cares about”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you felt your face grow warm. You took a deep breath to calm down and raised a fist to rap on the door. At first, there was nothing. The panic kept rising.

“Neil, it’s me” you leaned your head against the door “I’m sorry…” with tears streaming down your cheeks, you tried to find the right words “Please let me in. I just want to see you…” you glanced at Ives who looked almost uncomfortable.

Suddenly you heard faint sounds coming from the room. Rustling, the unmistakable clang of an empty glass bottle hitting the floor and the footsteps stopping just by the door.

“Please go” you mouthed at Ives, who only nodded and rushed down the corridor.

You took a step back and waited, with the heart in your throat. After agonising few seconds, the lock clicked, and the door opened. Nothing prepared you for the sight you saw.

Neil’s hair was sticking out in every direction. His eyes were red-rimmed and paired with dark shadows underneath. He still wore the clothes you saw him in the day before. But probably the worst was how obviously drunk he was, barely able to stay upright by the door. When his unfocused eyes landed on you, he attempted a smile. It ended up looking like a tragic scowl. He opened the door wider for you and went back inside. You took a second to gather your thoughts and followed him, shutting the door behind you.

Once inside, you took the time to scan the room and analyse the situation. Neil sat down on the edge of the bed, which was entirely unmade. The floor was covered in random bits of paper he must have tossed from the table. You counted at least two empty bottles of alcohol lying amidst the mess as well. Taking a deep breath, you faced Neil. He was looking at you, but his eyes lacked their usual spark.

“I’m sorry” he breathed out, and your eyes widened.

“What for?” you were not expecting that.

“They sent you to get me sorted” you did not like the dark look in his eyes “That can’t be an ideal job. Even for you”

“Neil” the stern tone made him focus on your words “I’m not here because they asked me to come. I’m here for you” you took a step closer and knelt to be levelled with him “I was worried” you admitted finally.

“Fuck… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” his slightly slurred rambling made you even more acutely aware of his state.

“No, don’t apologise” you interrupted him; TP’s text message fresh on your mind “None of this is your fault. And my job here is to make sure you understand that” gently, you reached out to brush the hair away from his eyes.

You did not know whether it was what you said or what you did, but at that moment, he seemed to break. Before you could react, he slid down onto the floor and started crying with heart-wrenching sobs. It took you a second to change position and put your arms around him. He leaned into the embrace.

“He’s gone” he choked out after a few seconds of silence.

“I know” you run a hand along his back in a soothing motion “But you don’t have to tell me more. It’s alright, I’m here” you whispered, feeling him shake.

At that, he just started sobbing more violently. You could only sit there, holding him and letting your own tears fall silently. You will be okay someday. You hoped.

#I’m really sorry #tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion #if you knew how much angsty music was spent on this...

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let-it-show · 4 years ago

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Safe and Sound

Hello hello! This here little ficlet was written for wonderful @junglekiing who had been looking for writing of their Tiger!Elsa AU that would also be FLUFF. Here we have Anna and Elsa in a moment to themselves, and Elsa makes it clear how happy she is. ------- Every single day Anna learned something about the friend she had taken home with her from the woods. Hybrids were uncommon in Arendelle, even if a handful were known to live and work in the kingdoms. Those individuals were part of the community and as much as they intrigued Anna, she could never get herself to approach them and ask them a deluge of questions. She had so many! But, well, she also was always teaching herself to squish her excitement aside to avoid being rude, and so she tried to stick to the books so could find about them. The books never prepared her for Elsa.

Since returning to the castle with her and inviting her to stay, Anna's curiosity was constantly through the royal roof. Everything the part human, part tiger woman did was fascinating, even when it shouldn't be. Elsa licking a cut on her hand instead of cleaning it like a normal person? What! That was so strange but she liked it. Elsa helping her wash dishes even with those bizarre part human and part cat hands? She had to take it in!

On a particular day, Elsa had lounged on the library couch in the sun with Anna and closed her eyes.

That in itself wasn't unusual. Elsa was still adjusting from a nocturnal life to time her own schedule with Anna's. She'd been stuck to her side since that day they returned from the woods, and Anna had no complaints there. She was reading one of her favorite stories during some afternoon downtime and Elsa loved to just exist with her. She couldn't read herself, not yet.

Elsa's head was leaned against the back of the couch, the rough pads of her feet - her paws - whatever - against Anna's thigh where there was a split in her green dress. Her tail dangled over the front of the couch and the end of it twitched every now and then. A pillow was held in her arms, both hands digging in as though she were kneading. Elsa was clad in an elegant, sparkly blue dress she'd made herself with her own powers.

Because of course she had powers, weird icy ones. Anna had no idea if that was normal, but it sure was their little secret and drew her to Elsa even more.

Anna sighed with contentment and set her hand on the top of Elsa's foot. "Sleepy thing," she said quietly, smiling.

Then she startled as her words were quickly followed by a soft response. "I'm not asleep. I'm quite awake, thank you."

"O-oh! Sorry! I'm used to you drifting off...this must mean you're making it through the day better, then!" That would be great! Anna had been able to coax Elsa into snuggling with her, something the blonde had been terrified of at first because she didn't want to hurt Anna. When no harm had come, Elsa was eager to curl up with her. Anna wasn't sure what they were, yet, but she knew she wanted to sleep through a whole night being held by her. "You're not tired at all?"

"No," Elsa answered gently. "Just...safe."

Anna blinked and lowered the book she had been reading. She turned to look at Elsa, her eyes still closed. "Safe?"

"Safe," Elsa repeated, then opening one eye to look back at Anna. "We big cats only close our eyes and truly relax when we feel very, very safe."

"But you sleep in the day all the time!" Anna blurted, before covering her mouth with her hand. "I mean, I'm not judging or something-"

Elsa laughed. The sound felt just plain GOOD. It tickled her heart with warmth. "I know. I know. That's where you have to remember I'm not all cat, and I know I need to rest and sleep no matter what. But rarely have I ever allowed myself to relax, like this."

"Oh." Anna lowered her hand from her mouth, feeling a bit silly.

"It feels wonderful," Elsa murmured, and that one eye closed again. "It feels...like the weight of the world has slipped away, and I can simply be."

"I love when I feel like that." Anna didn't feel like that too frequently as she was Queen, but she handled the stress well enough to be able to relax.

For a moment, silence hung in the air. "I have not felt like this is many, many years. I was on my own for a long time when you found me, Anna."

Anna had learned snippets of Elsa's past here and there. She knew she had left her family for some reason, and sometimes caught that she was outcasted. At the same time, she had also picked up hints that-that Elsa herself held some sort of powerful position in her family. In her herd...no, that didn't seem right in her head, did tigers even have herds? What would a group of tigers be called anyway? A stripey surprise?

Her thoughts were distracted when Elsa spoke again. "I never....never thought it could be like this again, either."

"Elsa!" Anna's heart felt like it exploded, or imploded, or whatever. "Why? Did you really think you'd always be alone in the northern forest?" Anna had completely closed her book, Elsa's soft, fuzzy foot gripped in one hand.

"Well...yes."

At that answer, Anna swallowed and made an immediate and very firm decision. "You'll never be alone again! Elsa, I swear, as long as I am alive and Queen, and those two are the same because I think I only stop being Queen when I'm dead, UNLESS- nevermind, I don't know where I'm going - I swear you will always be a part of this castle. Of this family. This...family of you and me and that snowman you made a couple of weeks ago who keeps popping into the kitchen unannounced, which reminds me, the staff who know about you are family-"

Something swatted Anna's ankles. "Anna, Anna hush, I get it." Elsa lightly got her with her tail one more time. "I'm honored you would trust me so much and accept me and I...well...I..." Elsa opened both eyes again, the striking blues rendering Anna speechless. "...Thank you, for everything, for your patience and kindness. I love...I love...being here," Elsa said and as the last two words came out, she seemed to lose a little steam.

Behind a locked door in her mind there was more struggling to come out and even someone as bubbleheaded as Anna could see that. As much as she wanted to draw it all out at once, Anna knew she couldn't force anything. And she wouldn't.

"I love having you here, Elsa. Always felt a little empty before, and now...um...well, it doesn't."

"Hmm. 'It' meaning the castle?" Elsa asked her, releasing her pillow with one hand and reaching toward Anna. The fingers on her other hand dug into the pillow in a hastened rhythm, almost excited.

"Meaning...a lot of things..." The castle, her heart, her life, and time as a whole. Elsa felt like the piece Anna often felt was missing, though the tail was a surprise. The ice was...also a surprise. Anna took Elsa's hand, her cooling fur always kind of blowing her mind.

Elsa pulled slowly, drawing Anna down with her on the roomy couch. The sunlight danced on the cold glitter of her blue dress, making her strange friend even more beautiful than she usually was. That was an amazing task; Elsa was absolutely stunning.

Both women shifted as Anna laid her head on the pillow Elsa held, resting just below her chin. Elsa adjusted briefly to kiss the top of Anna's forehead and Anna felt tingles all over her body. She wanted more, she almost ached for more, wanting to kiss Elsa in honest. She had kissed her on the lips a couple of times and it was chaste, but set off sparks. However Anna was patient.

Elsa's arms wrapped around her and casually started undoing her elegant, regal bun. Anna didn't stop her. She never really like wearing it; it was a little tight. Some viewed her double braids as childish, though.

Elsa thought they were cute and would bat at them.

"I've never felt safer than I do right now," Elsa whispered, and Anna smiled.

"Good. You're safe. And...you'll always be safe. I-I know how to use a sword." Anna immediately felt silly. Why did she say that!?

"And I can use ice. May we never actually have to use our skills in such a way, but I'll always make sure you're safe as well."

Somehow Anna hadn't know how much she needed to hear that. She had no idea until it went right to her heart. She had never really been concerned about being protected and kept safe, but hearing such words from the person she clearly adored, well...

She didn't know what to say. Elsa had that effect. No one else was quite so successful at leaving Anna speechless, but Elsa could do it without any effort. Anna didn't even want to respond and not in a bad way. She felt good. She felt like that need to push words, to comment, to ramble, it was soothed. Not every thought needed to be voiced, and not every moment even needed a thought.

"I'll always keep you safe," Elsa told her again, her fingers stroking her hair, the very tips of her claws like heaven against her scalp.

Anna closed her eyes. Just like Elsa, she felt safer than she ever had before.

#Frozen AU #Elsanna #ficlet #Tiger!Elsa #Anna

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 5 years ago

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Meeting and Dating Ray Stantz

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met Ray when you were both still working at the University. You worked down the hall from him and would run into him frequently.

- In the mornings, the two of you would arrive at the same time and he’d open the door for you. You’d make small talk whenever you ended up in the same room or walking in the same direction and he was always willing to lend you something; or a hand, if you needed it. You didn’t know him incredibly well but you did know that he was a sweet guy.

- Ray had a major crush on you. He pretty much fell for you the moment he saw you but his own insecurities kept him from trying to do anything about it. You were smart, gorgeous, and had an amazing personality. What would you want with him?

- It takes him a while to actually ask you out. He keeps going back and forth on whether or not he should, wondering if he’s willing to make a fool of himself just for the off chance that you’ll agree. Peter has a field day with him when he’s in this state, constantly teasing and prodding, urging him to just get it over with and see what you say.

- There was definitely a few instances of him approaching you and/or opening his mouth to say something to you, then quickly shutting it and excusing himself with an apology. It takes him nearly a year to actually go through with it.

- You were just leaving the building and preparing for your walk home when he caught up with you and somewhat shyly asked if you would like to have dinner with him sometime. To his utter shock, you smiled and agreed, and the two of you made plans to meet.

- The two of you went out to a not so fancy restaurant which was perfect for the occasion. He felt like he was walking on clouds the entire night; here he was, with you, and you actually seemed to like him. What were the odds that you would actually like him?

- But regardless of his disbelief over how lucky he was, the two of you had a really great time together and you were happy to see him again the next day at the university.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. He was walking you home and you were both stood in front of your door, saying goodbye. You were just about to walk inside when you paused, turning around and placing a gentle kiss on his lips before saying goodnight again and closing your door.

- He was frozen in shock for a good minute and a half but you should have seen the smile on his face.

- It wasn’t long before the two of you considered yourselves a couple, and he couldn’t have been happier.

- Ray is a big sweetheart and you can’t convince me otherwise, though I doubt you would even try. You’ll never meet another man who treats you so right.

- He loves Pda, especially when people recognize him in public. He feels particularly cool with you hanging on his arm.

- Quick giddy kisses.

- He keeps his hand on your lower back whenever you’re standing together, it’s just a habit of his.

- He likes using nicknames; he thinks they’re cute. He usually just calls you things like honey, sweetheart, and beautiful; he’s somewhat old fashioned in that regard. He wouldn’t even mind you calling him pet names. In fact, he’d probably love it.

- He’s a strong boy and proud of it! Ask him to hold something! Ask him to open a pickle jar! Ask him to carry you! He’s got it covered! …Although, occasionally he wont be able to open the pickle jar and you might actually show him up when trying it again for yourself.

- Cheek kisses. He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you in, pressing his lips to your cheek enthusiastically and smiling down at you.

- Stealing his sweaters. They’re big and cozy and he melts every time he sees you wearing them.

- Takeout meals. You order in or pick something up at least once a week.

- He’s not afraid to make a fool out of himself so the two of you always have a great time together, filled with jokes and stupid/ridiculous behavior. He loves being able to make you laugh.

- Cuddling? Sign him the fuck up! No matter what you’re doing, he’ll find a way to squeeze himself beside you and wrap himself around you in some way. Whenever you’re going to bed, you’ll rest your head on his chest with his arms wrapped around you; …or you’ll just be laying almost completely on top of him.

- A lot of your dates are going to be interrupted, it just sort of comes with the territory. When something strange is in the neighborhood, he’s the one being called so you just have to be patient and understanding. He always makes it up to you anyway.

- Occasionally, he’ll stop and pick up flowers or a movie you’ve been wanting to see from the rental place on his way home. He likes surprising you with something nice, especially if he was called away when you were supposed to spend time together.

- Becoming close with Egon, Winston and Peter. You see them constantly so it’s sort of hard not to.

- Sticking by his side and cheering him up when the Ghostbusters aren’t too popular anymore.

- You may or may not be a partial owner of the bookshop. As much as he loves being a Ghostbuster, he can’t deny that he likes running the place with you.

- He’s always there if you need someone to get you something or somewhere. He’s particularly good at pushing through crowds and coming up with things to say that will make it easier for you to do what you have to do. He also just doesn’t take no for an answer so, ya know.

- He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. You can always convince him to do something for you.

- Ray looks like he knows how to fix things. He looks and acts like a man I could trust with my things. If my car broke down, his smiling face would be the one I would ask to help me. So, if you need anything fixed around your house, all you have to do is ask.

- Little traditions. Things like watching a specific show after dinner, going to a certain place every weekend or eating certain things on certain days.

- He loves hugs, they’re pretty much his favorite thing in the entire world.

- Random playful harassment. He kind of likes to tease you, jokingly making fun of and tickling you. He thinks the way you react is cute and it’s usually after you do or say something to him so technically it’s revenge.

- Now, I’m not saying that Ray owns action figures or other toys of that nature, but Ray would definitely be the type to own them.... You may or may not have a little shelf full of figures when you move in together.

- He’s a big fan of going to zoos. You practically know the animals at your local zoo by name from how many times you go to see them.

- Carnival and amusement park dates.

- He gets this dopey smile on his face whenever you try to give him a massage or dote on him in anyway. He’s just so overjoyed that you actually like him and care about his wellbeing. He also just loves the feeling of your hands.

- Ray sort of craves domesticity. Seeing you wearing one of his shirts and cooking breakfast or being there to welcome him home after work or surprising him by doing some chores would literally make him melt. He’s a centimeter away from proposing to you on the spot.

- The two of you are pretty much the epitome of two best friends dating. You have the time of your lives together and are always completely comfortable and happy in each others presences.

- Walking around New York together. You wind up just wandering around the city a lot, occasionally stopping for food or drinks or whatever comes to mind when you pass a store.

- He isn’t the most sensitive person to talk to when you’re upset or scared about something but he apologizes when he goes off on a tangent or says the wrong thing. Don’t blame him too much, he’s got a skewed view of what’s considered a problem rather than a good scientific discovery.

- Ray gets easily excited about a lot of things, he’s sort of like a puppy at times so even though you might not be so amused with a situation, he’ll be incredibly happy. Whenever he notices that you aren’t thrilled, he’ll usually just give you a sheepish smile and a “sorry honey”.

- Having him randomly show up and borderline embarrass you when something big is found out. Just picture the restaurant scene from the second movie.

- Visiting him at the office.

- Letting him gush to you about the paranormal and supernatural.

- Helping him with his research, experiments, and invention. He loves having you around and hearing your input.

- He’s definitely named something after you, whether it be a theory, project or machine he’s created. It’s cute, in a geeky sort of way.

- Be prepared to get scared and not just by ghosts. Sometimes Ray will just pop into view out of nowhere, excitedly talking about something he just saw and scaring the living daylights out of you. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, did he do something wrong?

- He works with all things supernatural and paranormal; he’s seen a lot over the years and because of that, he’s gradually gotten more and more protective of you over time. Wouldn’t you if you knew that evil slime once ran wild underneath your girlfriends apartment?

- He gets particularly miffed when jealous, not livid or angry just …miffed. You know he’s not upset with you but you can tell that something is bothering him. Occasionally, you won’t even have to figure out what because he’ll insult whoever he’s jealous of like he’s talking about the weather.

- The two of you don’t really fight all too often, you rarely have a reason too, even though your lives are incredibly hectic most of the time. He doesn’t really have one certain way of responding when he’s angry, everything depend on the situation. One day, you’ll bicker, the next, you’ll yell.

- He always feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Almost immediately after he storms out, he’ll get this pang of guilt in his chest and debate on whether or not he should just walk back in and apologize. He usually doesn’t right then; wanting to give you time to yourself, but does come back not very long after and apologizes, admitting he was wrong if he was and asking if things are alright between the two of you.

- He’s always happy to say he loves you, and gosh does he love hearing you say it.

- Your family probably loves him. He’s a guy that’s easy to get along with …and he’s a ghostbuster so he’s got that going for him.

- Ray is sooo ready to have kids and settle down with you, he’s just waiting until he’s in a more stable work environment. He doesn’t need any ghosties lurking in your kids nursery, even if he’s the most equipped to get rid of them.

#ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters headcanon #ghostbusters headcanons #ghostbusters imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanon #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #ray stantz imagine #ray stantz headcanons #ray stantz headcanon

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apothecarinomicon · 4 years ago

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Spring week 2 part 2

I brought the adventurers back to the cottage. This was the group that had been in the dungeon since last week—and they seemed to have run afoul of one of its denizens. I’ll admit I was excited—I haven’t given up on my dreams of adventure, and I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask. I thought it might be tactful, though, to wait until we weren’t in the midst of a medical issue before grilling them.

The one with the issue was the smallest of the party, and given the what she was wearing looked to be a witch herself (I noted wryly that we as a group did seem to have a distinctive style of dress). I got her to remove her hands from her face so I could assess the problem. She revealed that her nose had three large warts, all an unusual violet color. This, I’d actually seen before—it’s called Toad Nose (aka Witch’s Nose, though thankfully that pejorative name has fallen out of fashion), and it’s extremely common. In addition to causing visible warts, it can affect the mood of the patient, making them irritable and low-energy. I knew off the top of my head what I could use to cure it. I actually already had some potentially useful reagents at the cottage (the songberry, the princess toad droppings, and the vampire venom would all work for the mood aspect of the ailment), but I wanted to save them for emergencies if I could. Since I had to go foraging for something to help with the warts, anyway, I figured it wouldn’t be too hard to pick up something extra while I was out.

I had Ailean hop up onto my shoulder and told the group I would be back as soon as I could. The largest one, the clear muscle of the group, asked where I was going, and I told him I had to collect the ingredients for the potion. He asked why I didn’t have them around the cottage and I said I’d only just moved in and hadn’t had time to build up much of a stock yet.

For whatever reason, he didn’t seem to believe me. He stood and got very close and asked how they knew I wasn’t working for the Queen of the Strange. Both of the other adventurers told him to back off, but he stayed where he was.

I told him first of all that I didn’t even know who the Queen of the Strange was, and secondly if I was working for an enemy of theirs I would have left them where they were, helpless in the middle of a dungeon. Then I fired back, asking why as an adventuring party they didn’t have a healing member.

The third party member, the one in the black cloak who looked like she’d be good at sneaking around, admitted that their fourth party member had left the party, citing responsibilities in her hometown to tend. Having met these three, I couldn’t blame her. Then, the one in the black cloak stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, before turning to the others and saying that she believed me, I was actually going to go look for potion ingredients.

The big guy announced that he was coming with me but I said absolutely not. I didn’t need a seven-foot asshole stomping after me, trampling the plants and scaring the animals that might cure his friend. He said I seemed awfully defensive for someone with nothing to hide. I said he seemed awfully paranoid for someone who came to me for help.

He didn’t have a response to that. I told them to sit tight and that I’d be back as soon as possible.

────⊱⁜⊰────

I headed to Meltwater Loch first, remembering to bring a pair of wool gloves. There’s a species of frog known as smooth-croak that’s abundant there whose mucus helps with warts. Skin-to-skin contact is best avoided, though—while it does feel lovely and makes your skin very smooth, it’s rather painful for the frog.

Finding a smooth-croak was easy (as I mentioned above, they’re everywhere at the loch), and I was able to get enough of its slime on the gloves for the potion. It and Ailean were croaking back and forth the entire time—I assume she was comforting it, assuring it I wouldn’t hurt it. As I was folding up the gloves and putting them in my basket, though, something caught my eye. A bit deeper into the loch, there was a cluster of ancient planks floating on the surface of the water. Below them, there appeared to be a half-buried crate.

I waded into the shallows to get a closer look, and found it wasn’t a crate—it was a chest. It wasn’t buried at all, either. Instead there was a nearly-whole skeleton wrapped around it. The skull laid on top, as if whoever it used to be died while resting their cheek atop their possessions.

Now, while I’ve made a habit of saying ‘yes’ to things that clearly present themselves since I’ve gotten here, I hesitated with this one. It occurred to me that it had clearly been here for a long time, and at the same time it was easily visible from close to shore—where people would have come wading frequently. So, why had no one gone and retrieved it before me?

My gut told me to leave well enough alone and that’s exactly what I did. Maybe I’ll ask Evander about it and come back to it in the future.

────⊱⁜⊰────

I went to Moonbreaker Mountain next, this time looking to climb nearly to the summit. To help with the mood portion of the ailment, I was hoping to bottle a goat’s echo. That’s not the name of a plant—I was looking for a literal echo. It’s a magic thing; it’s difficult to explain. Don’t worry about it.

As I’ve mentioned previously, I’m not in the best of shape. By the time I made it to the top of the mountain, I was wheezing. I sat down on a boulder near a larger outcropping, and once my heart was no longer pounding in my ears I began to hear a bleating from the other side.

I hurried around, only to find not a goat but a sheep on the other side. I sighed and went to continue looking, only to find it following me. I asked what it wanted, and it trotted over to the far side of the mountaintop and bleated again. I followed it and looked down the side. At the bottom was what looked to be a small farm, with an isolated house, two fields, and a few other buildings scattered around.

I asked it if it was lost, and took its body language to mean yes. I told it I was sorry, but I had a patient to heal and I didn’t have time to guide it down the mountain. I told it I’d send someone up to help it as soon as I could, but that I had to keep moving.

A little while later, I did find a goat. It was walking along a sheer cliff face, slowly making its way up. They’re notoriously skittish creatures, so I stayed low and tried to make as little noise as possible, waiting for it to cry so I could catch its echo.

Before I got the chance, a great snapping of wood and clattering of rock sounded behind me, startling me and scaring the goat into bounding up the cliff face and out of sight. I cursed and strode over to investigate what had ruined my plan. I found none other than the big guy from the adventuring party, fallen over on his ass and trying to scramble out of sight.

I, of course, asked him what in the fuck he thought he was doing. He said he was just making sure I was safe as I collected what I needed. I reminded him that I didn’t need his protection, and that as a matter of fact he’d just scared one of the ingredients away. I told him to go back to the cottage and wait like I told him.

He said he just thought the timing was kind of funny, how his friend had been cursed and they’d run into the one person who could help immediately. I told him he could think whatever he wanted, but unless he wanted the warts to spread over his friend’s entire body until she was unrecognizable, he’d stop getting in my way. That’s not something that Toad Nose actually does—as the name implies, it’s limited to the nasal region—but I was tired of his bullshit and needed him out of my hair. It worked, and he sheepishly made his way back down the mountain.

I immediately returned to the lost sheep and said I’d help it find its way home.

────⊱⁜⊰────

It took about a half hour and a lot of soothing words to coax the sheep down the other side, and by the time we made it to the farmhouse the owner was outside waiting for us. She introduced herself as Ainsley Tennant, and I told her my name in return. She thanked me for bringing the sheep back and asked if I was the new witch in Greenmoor. I nodded, and she said she could tell from the clothes (this left me a bit miffed, as I thought I was wearing a rather sensible ensemble today). She said I was a worthy successor to the title. When I asked how she knew, she told me that the sheep I’d returned was named Senga, and that it had belonged to my predecessor—not as livestock, but as a pet. She said it was typically very skittish and wary of people, and that it had trusted me immediately was a good sign.

It took me a moment to process this. My predecessor had been painted as a loner by the information the townsfolk had given me. I suppose I had just assumed she was cold and antisocial—not nearly the kind of person who’d keep pets, especially not such nontraditional ones. It made me all the more curious about who she was, what she was like when she lived here, and what might have caused her to disappear.

I was curious about Ainsley, too. I asked her why she lived on the other side of the mountain from Greenmor, instead of with the others in town. She said that—like my predecessor—she wasn’t much of a people person, and that by the time she’d arrived in Greenmoor the need for livestock and crops had been met by the families already living there. Rather than try to fill a niche she didn’t have a passion for, Ainsley decided to be entirely self-sufficient. She said complete independence from anybody else was a short-lived pipe dream, but that she was proud of how much she was able to rely on herself for food and shelter in the end—though she mentioned it had been a bit lonely since my predecessor had disappeared, as she was the only person from town Ainsley had any kind of social relationship with.

I was curious to learn more about my predecessor, so I said I might be able to come around and visit every once in a while. She said I would always be welcome. Then, I said I had to get back to treat a patient. She thanked me again for guiding Senga back and gave me a bit of honey—to sweeten the potion, she told me. Then she sent me on my way.

────⊱⁜⊰────

As it was getting dark by the time I made it back over the mountain, I decided to suck it up and use one of my stored ingredients for the potion rather than spend any more time searching for a new one. So, I headed straight back to the cottage. I could hear the adventuring party bickering loudly as I approached. I steeled myself and opened the door.

They didn’t even acknowledge me, so I didn’t interrupt them.

I wasn’t paying too close attention, but the other two seemed to be angry at the big guy for following me—not because I had told him not to, but because it left only one of them in fighting shape in the case of some potential ambush. I decided if I never saw these people again after today I would be happy.

I decided before I even started brewing to call the potion Toad Turd Tonic, after one of its active ingredients. I figured it would make for a nice gross-out if any of these jackasses thought to ask what it was. Here is how I made it:

First, I built a fire and put the cauldron over it.

I put my mucus-soaked glove into the water, so that the slime could leach out as it heated up.

As I waited for the water to boil, I crushed the princess toad droppings I got from Glimmerwood Grove into a fine powder.

Once the mucus-water reached a rolling boil, I removed the glove with a poker and added the powdered droppings and Ainsley’s honey.

I stirred it briskly until it all combined into a uniform green concoction.

The final product was slightly thicker than water, but still poured fairly easily. Wordlessly, I thrust a cup of it at the afflicted adventurer, finally interrupting the group’s yammering. As soon as she’d downed it, the warts simply popped off of her nose and onto the floor. It did not occur to any of them to pick the warts up—they left them there for me to deal with.

The big guy was eager to leave and went outside as soon as his friend was cured. I was no longer eager to ask these three anything about adventuring, but there was one thing I was curious about. I asked the newly-cured patient why she couldn’t heal herself—she was clearly a witch. She said her training wasn’t in healing, but rather in illusion magic.

Of course it was. The worst magical vocation.

Then on that subject, the one with the black cloak said they were in need of a healing party member, and had the nerve to ask me to join their party. For any other group, I might have considered it. But to her I said that I had too many responsibilities in Greenmoor to just leave, and that I didn’t think I fit in with the group dynamic anyway. Thankfully, she didn’t press the matter and instead handed me my payment.

As they left, the big guy suddenly turned, trotted back to the doorway and said: “I just realized we never got your name.”

“What a shame,” I said, and shut the door in his face.

⇦●〇●⇨

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loveau · 5 years ago

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Do Kyungsoo and the Case of the Missing Toothbrush

Genre: romance!!!! fluff!!!! toothrotting, if you will

Summary: Kyungsoo is normally an organized man who barely loses things in his own house, much less his own toothbrush. He sets out on an adventure with you to find it.

Word Count: 3,605

Summary: Sorry for the month hiatus!! I just finished summer school, so I should be free to write now :D! also asDGKSNGJG I HATE HOW RUSHED THIS IS LMAO (loved the concept, but the writing <.<)

Kyungsoo is a man who keeps his house orderly and clean, not for the sake of guests but rather for his own sake. He knows where everything is and how many of each thing he owns in his cupboards save for the amount of soap there’s left. For some reason he always runs low on that. He knows the contents of the fridge, the number of silverware in the drawers, and how many white socks he owns.

He sighed as he examined the cup by the edge of the sink once more. He also looked by the floor, in the mirror cabinet, and once more in the cup that only held one thing: your toothbrush. Kyungsoo scratched at his head, wondering where on earth his toothbrush could have gone. Had he left it by the side of the sink? It was a habit before he had moved in with you before you. You had seen him place his toothbrush on the side of the sink, promptly rushed out of the bathroom with frothy paste flying into your hair and come back with a silly ladybug mug you’d painted during a pottery date with him a year before. You rinsed quickly and threw your toothbrush into the mug before looking expectantly at him. Kyungsoo chuckled to himself when he looked at the face of the turtle (yes, not a ladybug yet painted like one) on the mug.

He sighed to himself and whispered to himself. “I suppose you won’t tell me where my toothbrush went, will you?” He braced himself against the sink and looked in the mirror. With the door left open, he could see into your shared bedroom where you were sprawled out in the middle. He’d been woken up early and on the floor on a day off thanks to your kicking around. Making his way out of the bathroom, Kyungsoo shook your awake and smiled endearingly at your tousled hair. “Wake up, we have a mystery to solve.”

“Last time you said that, it was you who drank all of the milk and not me.” You grumbled. You tried falling back asleep but decided that the hairs going into your mouth wouldn’t let you. “What happened?”

“Apparently, Toothy and Mrs. Paste have been separated. Her husband has gone missing.” You shot up, wide awake and rubbing sleep out of your eyes. Kyungsoo smiled once more at the silliness.

“No way! You didn’t drop him or throw him away, did you? We just bought new toothbrushes last month!” Kyungsoo followed you as you rushed out of the bed and soon caught you as you tripped as your foot caught the blanket. The adrenaline from rushing to save you from an embarrassing faceplant did nothing to combat the swelling oh his heart as he watched you play into his silly antics. “You don’t suppose he ran off with Dawn? The dish soap from a couple blocks down?”

“Why’d he be there?” You shrugged, soon deciding to pick up your own toothbrush and get ready for the day.

“Where is your toothbrush anyways? I saw you put it in the cup last night. And I swear on my life I was sleeping like a rock at the bottom of a lake, so there’s no way I had anything to do with it.” Your boyfriend chuckled at that. He affirmed your dead point and then stated that still doesn’t explain his toothbrush going missing.

“You think the cat took it?”

“We don’t have a cat.”

“Ghost cat?” A little scoff emitted from Kyungsoo’s lips and he left as you wrapped up your routine. By the time you were done fixing your hair, he came back with a roll of… police tape? “Where did that come from?”

He started blocking off the corner of the sink where the cup was. “Remember, Baekhyun’s Halloween party? He made me buy some of the decorations, so I just took back what was left over.”

“And you’re using it on a case of your missing toothbrush?”

Kyungsoo smirked at you and tapped your hip. “I could also wrap this on your legs to see if we can solve a case of your missing pants?” You smacked his hand in a flustered manner and stormed into the bedroom.

“I’ve complained before that it gets hot! Doesn’t help when you’re a radiating oven even in the summer.” Kyungsoo let a laugh out at that and waited for you to come back in wearing shorts. “Did you check the trash? The cupboard?”

“Already did. Looks like we have a case to solve.” You looked at him expectantly. Kyungsoo grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen. Before he could open his mouth to suggest anything, you cut him off.

“I highly doubt there’s anything amidst the forks and our bajillion cups.” You kissed him once to make sure he didn’t try to rebut. “And there’s nothing in the cereal either.”

“I was going to suggest the fruits but looks like you’re way ahead of me, partner.”

Shaking your head, you tugged your hand from his grip and planted it on your hips. “What has gotten into you this morning? Normally it’s me starting the games while you want to cuddle and hope you can wrangle me into bed so you can ‘surprise’ me with breakfast.”

“Let’s just say I woke up on the right side of the bed.” You cocked an eyebrow. “Or the floor. You could be a professional MMA fighter with that foot.” You giggled and Kyungsoo led you closer to the cupboards with a gentle grip on your elbow. With another cocked eyebrow, Kyungsoo answered your unasked question. “Why don’t we check the cupboards anyways? In case Toothy really did run off with the dish soap.”

For no reason at all, you decided to play along with your boyfriend’s strange antics. This was definitely a first. Yes, he was capable of pulling off pranks. Yes, it wasn’t frequent. But the times that he did decide to joke around he never kept up the charade this long. Especially when it took so much effort and work.

“This isn’t some plot to get me to rearrange the kitchen like I kept saying I’ve been wanting to do, right?”

“Of course not. We’re looking for Toothy. He’s gone missing and Mrs. Paste is getting worried.” Kyungsoo was searching diligently within the cabinet with the bowls while you hesitantly moved around the pots and pans in search for a familiar green toothbrush. You weren’t sure how long he was going to keep it up, much less how long you were willing to play along with it before wrangling the truth out of him by offering to do the laundry for the next three weeks.

“Why do we have to look in the kitchen?”

Kyungsoo put away the rest of the spatulas he had rearranged. “You’re right. We got ahead of ourselves.” He sat down at the dining table and motioned you over. “To do this properly, you need to take statements and questions.” To make a point, Kyungsoo took out a detective’s cap that you recognized from a couple Halloweens ago. He set the bag back on the chair it was originally hiding on.

“You really went hard with this one,” you said while he adjusted the cap on your head. He gave you a satisfied smile, you’re not sure if it was from making the clunky hat look good on your head or with how themed this was. “Do I have to?” Kyungsoo’s response was to pout at you and grasp your hands pleadingly. You bit your lip and stamped your foot before giving in. “Fine.”

“Love you.”

“You owe me dinner tonight. My favorite.” Kyungsoo agreed with a laugh while rubbing the tops of your knuckles. “So… when’s the last time you saw Toothy?”

He pretended to think hard, even moving a hand to his temple to scratch at it. If this were any other time, you’d compliment his acting skills. For now, you were patiently waiting to see where Kyungsoo would take this. “Well, I had just finished showering and doing my nightly routine. I briefly said goodnight to my beautiful girlfriend, who was already asleep before I got to the bed. I mean, can you believe her? I did the sheets so they’d be clean, put away all the dishes, and even put her phone away for her because she fell asleep watching those cheesy 5 minute DIY videos. You’d think after all I did for her she’d at least wait for me to get into bed so I can get my well-deserved cuddles-”

“Your point, Soo.” You lightly smacked him on the back of his head. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling endearingly at your silly boyfriend, though.

“Anyways, after I checked up on my wonderful yet ungrateful girlfriend-“ Smack. “-I love her so much. I went back into the bathroom to turn off the lights, but I guess I didn’t check up on Toothy since I had placed him back where he was. I did notice the window was open by the shower, though.”

“You’re telling me that your toothbrush snuck out the window?”

“Or he was taken.”

“Why would someone just take your toothbrush?”

“My thoughts exactly! He must have snuck off when he had the opportunity.” Kyungsoo stood up from his chair and took the hat from your head. He smoothed your hair down for a second, but it didn’t matter after you were whisked away into the bedroom. “Let’s get dressed. We have a toothbrush to find.”

“What?” Before you knew it, your boyfriend was chucking clothes at you. Any other time you would have admired the view of him undressing, but you didn’t see why you’d have to be led along a string of mystery on a day off. “Kyungsoo, after the four years I’ve known you and two and a half we’ve lived together, you’ve never been this raring to go so excitedly.”

After getting a simple long sleeve over his head, Kyungsoo turned back and gave you a fond smile. “Not even when I woke you up to take you to the river when I heard there were baby ducklings?”

“It was 1pm and I was the one who told you. It’s…” You glanced at the clock while changing into the clothes he’d thrown you, completely engrossed in your conversation to realize you were still going along with it. “It’s almost 8:30am right now and I still have no idea what we’re doing.”

“We, my dear, are going on an adventure.”

“To look for your toothbrush?”

He kissed your forehead and gave you a kiss. “You got it.”

Your boyfriend took you by the hand and led you out the door. The two of you spent some time walking. Every now and then, the two of you passed by another couple or parent with their child. You said hi to every kid who would look back at you, and one of the kids informed you there was a birthday party and how excited they were to eat cake. Kyungsoo merely watched you interact with the kids and the occasional dog with clear adoration in his eyes. It took a while to walk into the block where a bunch of shops were, and you kept yourself from window shopping while Kyungsoo walked on.

“You know, we can go into the stores if you wanted.” You looked back at your boyfriend with suspicion in your eyes.

“Aren’t we supposed to be looking for Toothy?” Kyungsoo smiled at brought your interlocked hands to press a kiss on the back of your hand.

“We can go anywhere you want to. You’re leading the investigation. Where do you think Toothy went?” A hesitant hum sounded from your lips and Kyungsoo took this as initiative to bring you into a little bakery. “Why in here?”

“Toothy always had a knack for fighting off those sweets. Maybe he has a grudge against them and wanted to fight them off?” Kyungsoo began perusing the lineup of pastries and cakes along the display case. You slowly turned your eyes to the case as well, occasionally looking questionably at the man next to you as he spent his time browsing the selection. Eventually you pointed at a cute looking strawberry slice of cake and Kyungsoo bought it for you. When you walked out, you were feeding bits of it to Kyungsoo. His smug smile only grew when the two of you finished the slice and walked into more stores.

The first couple of stores he coaxed you into them with similar points as the bakery one. You began to wonder whether or not Kyungsoo’s plan for the day was to take you shopping. However, you spent most of the time browsing and when you were done Kyungsoo took you around to another store to do the same thing. You didn’t spend much, focusing mainly on what your boyfriend was up to today. Save for the cake and a couple of snacks, there wasn’t much out of your wallet. After exiting a little sandwich store the both of you stopped during lunch break (to which Kyungsoo claimed you needed to replenish your energy after using your brains deducing where Toothy would have gone), you brought up the idea of going grocery shopping early.

“Perfect. I don’t see why we shouldn’t. Perhaps it’ll bring us one step closer to Toothy.”

“I can’t believe you’re proudly saying that in public. Last time I brought it up and you had friends around, they asked if you called the mouthwash Lizzie Terine.”

“Well, we have a mystery to solve, don’t we?” You were going to comment further until you saw your boyfriend take out a notepad. A glance at it would let anyone see that it was a grocery list with little checkmarks, circles, and arrows. However, upon further inspection you saw that the little “grocery list” did include ingredients for cooking and other knick knacks. They also looked like…

“You aren’t seriously taking notes for the case of your missing toothbrush?”

Kyungsoo looks at you as if you’re the one who’s been acting weird all day. “Of course I would! Did you want to see them?” You can’t really say no when the notes were shoved into your face.

Some lines of the list were perfectly normal, with things such as eggs or more laundry detergent. Other things read: ‘Cookies… Toothy had a particularly hard time battling them. Maybe a grudge.’ Or ‘Dental floss -> Toothy might be at an old friend’s family reunion.’ You felt your eyebrow twitch at the notes and sighed to yourself. This was going on much longer than you thought, and it was kind of getting old.

“Kyungsoo-“

“Let’s go shopping then!” He cheered and tugged you forward, making sure to pocket his notepad for later. By the time the both of you got to the store, you decided to focus solely on shopping instead of playing with Kyungsoo like you’d been all day. Kyungsoo didn’t notice that you would shift gears anytime he brought up the “case”, and if he did, he didn’t bother to make it shown.

“We need more seasonings, right?” Kyungsoo hummed. He checked the list and nodded while reaching up on the shelves of the market to snag a couple bottles and inspect them side by side. At this moment, Kyungsoo looked totally normal and not your strange boyfriend who went bonkers over a toothbrush. Well, except for the fake toy pipe he brought along that went with the detective’s outfit. He shuffled the pipe in his mouth and you weren’t sure whether it was attractive or goofy. After he chose a seasoning, Kyungsoo dropped it in the basket and walked to the next aisle with his hand in yours.

“Can’t we just use the spare pack of toothbrushes we bought?” Kyungsoo squeezed your hand and a teasing smile rested upon his lips. “That way you can stop fussing over… Toothy.”

“You used them to paint one of those DIY projects you saw on social media, again. Remember?” Thinking back on it, he was right. You had been hunched over some painting project and were using the bristles of the new toothbrushes to spray a small amount of paint to look like stars. You ended up having to clean your sleeves and table afterwards, but Kyungsoo decided to hang up your mini painting in the hall anyways.

“Ah, I remember now,” you said and took two packs of new toothbrushes to put in the basket. “We really need to invest in one of the electric brushes, though.” Kyungsoo hummed and asked if you wanted one. When you shrugged in response, Kyungsoo spent time perusing the ones available at the store until he decided you guys would just order one online. For now, the plastic toothbrushes from the shelves would do just fine.

Kyungsoo is silent the rest of the way home. He doesn’t even bring up Toothy like he had been doing all day. You’re unsure what caused this sudden shift in behavior. Before he was so insistent on making you play along, but now he looked nervous.

“I’m not mad, if that’s what you’re worried about.” His attention snapped to yours and his furrowed eyebrows shot up instead. “You look nervous. If it’s because of the game you’d been playing for so long, don’t worry. I was just confused and frustrated why I wasn’t getting answers, but I’m not mad at you because I think it’s dumb.”

Your boyfriend only nods in response and returns his gaze back ahead of him. He takes his hand from yours to wipe it quickly against his pant leg. It’s sweaty. You wanted to continue reassuring him but decided against it since you were pretty sure your last phrase went in one ear and out the other. When the two of you got to the door, Kyungsoo paused.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know.” You were the one now feeling nervous. Kyungsoo’s multiple and drastic changes in behavior made you curious yet afraid for what it all meant. Kyungsoo gave you a warm kiss on the cheek and headed inside. He set the bags on the counter and twiddled with his thumbs, wondering which bag to unload first. You took the bag with the toiletries inside of it and left Kyungsoo to unload the food. “I’ll do this one. That way I don’t have to rearrange the fridge.”

He hummed and turned stiffly towards the fridge. This time, you were the one who gave a soft kiss to the cheek. You hoped that was enough to calm his nerves so that he would tell you what was bugging him earlier. As you headed down the hall, you missed the way Kyungsoo whipped his head around to watch you leave.

“Alright, let’s get you out of your plastic prison, Toothy 2.0.” You opened up the plastic bag to dig around for the little case. Looking up at the ladybug mug your own toothbrush resided in, you paused your actions. “Kyungsoo!” He called back from the kitchen, and you heard the clanging of items in the fridge. “Your toothbrush is in here. It’s in the cup!”

You took another close look at the cup and saw that yes, indeed there was a toothbrush sitting in the cup alongside yours. In fact, you knew without a doubt that it was Kyungsoo’s. You hesitantly reached out to it, wondering if you had gone crazy over your boyfriend’s weird antics and started hallucinating about the toothbrush. Once your fingers reached it, you noticed that it was in fact real. Kyungsoo finally joined you in the bathroom, a telltale sign by the shuffling of his socks against the floor. Before you could grab it and show it to him, Kyungsoo pulled his toothbrush out for you.

“How did you miss it? I swear it was there before we left.” Kyungsoo fiddled with the toothbrush for a while. You noticed him tug at it and he hid whatever he pulled off of it in his closed fist.

“Toothy never went missing.” Kyungsoo still couldn’t meet your eyes since the walk and he chewed at his bottom lip. “I… asked him to run an errand for me.”

“Kyungsoo, I’m still so confused. You’ve been acting so strange all morning and then you couldn’t even talk to me. What’s going on?” He took a deep breath and steadied himself, deciding that he wouldn’t let his nerves get to him. It was all or nothing now.

“The errand… was to hide something while I took you out today.” He now brought his eyes to your face. The depths of your eyes always took his breath away, especially in that moment. He felt like he was drowning in you. He cleared his throat and then put Toothy back in the cup. Once his hand was free, he filled it with your fingers and laced them with his own.

Patiently, you watched. He licked his lips nervously once more. Soon, he was on his knees. Or rather… one. He brought his closed fist up and in between his fingers there was a gleam. This time it was your breath that was unsteady, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Kyungsoo either for your eyes were focused solely on the ring.

“Kyungsoo…”

“I was too nervous to do this myself… so my trusty companion helped me out for today.” Your boyfriend took one last breath and looked at you with a confidence that stilled time. “So… will you marry me?”

#exo #kyungsoo #exo imagines #exo scenarios #kyungsoo imagines #exo fluff #kyungsoo fluff #kyungsoo scenarios #kyungsoo x reader #do kyungsoo #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #female pronouns #fluff #elli writes

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snowdice · 5 years ago

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A Twist of Fate {Part 2} (Everything’s Fine Universe) [Dice Roll 13]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Remus & Janus & Patton, Remy & Patton

Characters: Janus, Patton, Remus, Remy

Summary: It wasn’t unheard of for people to gain soulmarks later in life, but it was quite rare. Usually fate was set in stone. Yet, when one’s fated death was prevented, fate had to make some adjustments.

As he fell, Patton may have felt a strange prickling feeling across his skin. He however, was not paying attention to that, far too distracted and confused. All he knew was that by the time he hit the ground, both of his hands were covered with marks. Later when he went home he’d notice even more in other places, but the ones he noticed when he hit the ground were the obvious ones on his hands.

Then, there was Janus. Janus had only one soulmark on his body. At least. He had only one soulmark that hadn’t been burnt off years ago. When he landed on top of Patton, he did not notice the marks that suddenly appeared on his arms and face. Patton did, however, notice two little designs appear on him: one along the side of his nose and the other right below the scaring on the left side of his face. The second was already colored in by the time they hit the ground.

Universe: Soulmate AU and Superhero AU

Genre: The Dice Roll said fluff and it is… but… it’s more fluff and angst, hurt/comfort-ish

Notes: Child abuse, homelessness, malnutrition, acid burns, platonic soulmates

My Master Post Part 1

Patton could not keep the small wistful smile off his face when Jimmy and his… brother? uncle? guardian? (He almost certainly wasn’t the kid’s father because there were no soulmarks on Jimmy’s face. He’d seen the mark on Jimmy’s forearm though that matched the colored in one on the man’s wrist. Perhaps he was a much older brother.)… left. Patton liked the little boy who frequently came into the bakery even though Jimmy sometimes said weird or scary things. Patton did not know the boy’s story but considering the absence of any parental soulmarks that would typically mark a person’s face, he imagined there was a reason for the way his mind seemed to stray to darker thoughts. At least he seemed happy with his guardian now. The man barely ever spoke, a quiet contrast to the little boy who seemed unable to stop talking for five seconds without exploding, but he clearly loved Jimmy. They were sweet together.

“You are so soft for kids,” a voice said from next to him, making him startle a bit. He had not noticed Remy leave the table he’d been camped out at all day.

Patton smiled at him once he’d calmed down from the small fright. “More coffee, Remy?” he asked.

Remy made the twirling motion with his pointer finger that translated to him rolling his eyes since he couldn’t remove his sunglasses. “How long have we known each other, babe?” he asked.

Patton rolled his own eyes for real and took his offered coffee cup. “Want anything to eat?”

“Nah, just the caffeine.”

Patton nodded and absentmindedly went about filling the coffee cop, but then he paused when he caught sight of the clock and spun around. He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve been studying since breakfast time. I don’t remember you ordering any lunch.”

“I’ll get lunch in a bit,” Remy said, waving him off.

“Remy, it’s an hour ‘til closing.”

“…Shit.”

Patton sighed and shook his head, finishing up getting him his refill before turning to grab him a bacon and cheese croissant out of the display case. “Eat,” Patton said, shoving the food and drink at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say dad.”

Patton smiled slightly even as he felt his heart twinge at that word. Remy seemed to notice his discontent and reached across the counter to give him a soft punch on the shoulder. “Bad day?” he asked.

Patton shrugged. It was always a bit of a sore spot, but usually not so much that Remy joking with him in that way would sting.

“Sorry Pat,” Remy said. “Didn’t meant to make it worse.”

“It’s fine Remy,” Patton promised. “I’m fine.”

Remy studied him for a moment with a frown, and Patton squirmed under the intensity of his gaze even if it was hidden behind the dark shades. “No, you’re not,” he said bluntly and maybe that’s why he and Remy were soulmates. He was willing to say it unlike everyone else who either politely avoided the subject when they were being nice and when they weren’t… well, let’s just say, Patton had heard the term “unloved” far too many times in his life.

Remy had always done his best, but ever since Patton’s parents had died two years ago dwindling his number of soulmates from a measly three down to one, the insult had started stinging more and more.

It did not help that Patton could see the writing on the wall (or perhaps on the skin would be more accurate) when it came to Remy. Remy was his platonic soulmate, and Patton loved him so, so much, but, well, Patton was aware that… Remy had a lot of life to live outside of Patton.

Remy wasn’t quite what one would call a “well-loved,” but his number of soulmates was in the higher range of normal. There were three on his face: two from his parents and a “blessing mark” from his grandmother. One dotted his wrist for his baby sister who was still in middle school who he’d practically helped raise. There were five that littered his back in different places, only two filled in so far including the one from Patton. (Patton’s had filled in long ago when they were in 3rd grade, and at least Patton had that. Patton could claim the spot of Remy’s first non-familiar soulmate. It made him a little bit special even if… even if Patton could tell it wouldn’t last.) The one soulmark on his chest waited to be filled in by his romantic soulmate, and Patton had to imagine the two on his hands for future children would follow after that.

Patton was happy for him. He was! He’d have a lot of love in his life and Patton loved him so much he couldn’t resent that. The thing was, usually, people had some overlapping soulmates. Maybe Patton wouldn’t have all of Remy’s friends as soulmates, but he should at least have one indicating he would get to know the romantic one, right? One would think he’d have something for Remy’s future kids, because he already knew he would love them if he ever met them. Even just… even just one overlapping friendship soulmate would make Patton feel better. Patton should have some sign of being a part of Remy’s future social circle engraved onto his skin.

Unless.

Unless, well, unless Patton ended up not mattering much in the end.

It hurt to think about. It hurt to know that Patton was likely just an important childhood friend whom he would eventually drift away from as his life moved on without him. Yet, Patton had no one else. Patton would never have anyone else. He had three soulmates. All of them met. Two of them gone.

It didn’t sound much like a happy ending.

“I’ll be fine,” Patton replied. “It’s just a bad day. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”

Remy’s fingertips tapped on the rim of his coffee cup a few times. “You should adopt.”

Patton blinked at the suddenness and ludicrousness of that suggestion. He almost laughed. “Who is going to let me adopt anyone?” Patton asked, waving both of his hands around sadly.

“Adopt a soulless kid.”

“Don’t call them that,” he hissed, immediately.

Remy jerked at the sudden venom in his tone. “It’s just what they’re called Pat,” he said. “I wasn’t being mean. It’s their government designation…”

“I know…” Patton said. “It just seems so… mean.” Like ‘unloved,’ but at least ‘unloved’ didn’t make it onto his driver’s license. At least he had the option to pull on a cardigan and go around under the radar with most people not even knowing how many soulmarks he had.

“See,” Remy said. “You’d be perfect to take one in. You’d be thoughtful and patient even with their status. It’s probably what a lot of them need.”

“I don’t even know if people can adopt them,” Patton said.

“Well, someone has to take care of them:” Remy pointed out, “adoption or fostering or some other thing special to them. Maybe you could do that.”

“I still don’t know if they’d allow me to. You can adopt people who aren’t your soulmates, but they don’t usually allow people like me to…” He’d looked up adopting once when he was a teenager on one of the nights when his heart ached too much to sleep, just to see if he’d ever be able to. He’d found one couldn’t even apply for adoption without a hand or lower arm soulmark, a biological relationship to the child, or a soulmate who had a biological relationship to the child. Yet… people with no soulmarks were treated differently by the government, usually for the worse, but… maybe they’d let someone they thought was incapable of giving parental love foster someone who they thought was incapable of receiving any love at all. “Maybe I’ll look into it.”

“You should,” Remy said. “I know you’d make a great dad.”

Patton chuckled humorlessly, looking down at his blank hands. “Clearly.”

“Don’t be like that, Pat. Even if it wouldn’t be exactly what everyone else has, that wouldn’t make it necessarily bad. You don’t have to be someone’s soulmate to love them.” Patton knew that. He knew that very well. He’d loved or wanted to love so many people in his life. They’d just never seemed to want to accept that love let alone love him back.

He smiled at Remy sadly. “Like I said, I’ll think about it.” He shook the thought away. “Not eat your croissant and then go home and get some rest, Rem. I know you’re worried about your exam tomorrow, but passing out from exhaustion and/or low blood sugar in the middle of it won’t help you finish med school.”

“That’s what coffee’s for.”

“Remy.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” he grumbled, sticking half of the croissant into his mouth. Having a full mouth did not stop him from talking however, “but afterwards I’m coming straight to your house and we’re going to eat pizza and watch horrible romantic comedies until the sun comes up the next morning.”

Patton chuckled. “It’s a good thing I don’t work until Sunday.” Remy nodded, already finishing the rest of the croissant. He grabbed his coffee cup and went to take a big gulp. “Remy that’s hot!”

He set the cup down on the table once he was finished downing about 1/3 of it. “I fear no god. Put it in a to-go cup for me?”

He turned to wander back to his table as Patton grabbed a to-go cup from under the counter. Patton watched as he opened his backpack and slid all of his study materials into it in a disorganized mess before slinging it over his shoulder. “Don’t give me that look,” he said when he saw Patton watching. “I have to keep up my image of a hot mess.” Patton handed him his coffee cup when he came back over. “See you later Pat.” He leaned forward to give Patton a smooch on the nose, and Patton batted him away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Remy.” Remy turned around and shot him finger guns, almost walking straight into someone as he exited the bakery door. “And watch where you’re going! You’ll get hit by a car if you’re not careful.”

He turned the finger guns into birds knowing he was too far away for Patton to chide him. He was gone in the next moment. Patton shook his head. There wasn’t anyone left sitting in the bakery. He decided to go ahead and start prepping to close. Maybe he’d be able to go home early.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 3

#sanders sides #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #remy sanders #platonic demus #adriana writes #everything's fine universe #roll the dice 13 #roll the dice #child abuse #homelessness #malnutrition #acid burns #soulmate au #superhero au #platonic intruality #platonic moceit #platonic mosleep

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namjoonspiration · 5 years ago

Text

ON [5]

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Rating: M

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings/tags: strong language and violence, scary creatures, battle scene, heartbreak, character death (not graphic)

Author’s Note: This is it... the last chapter of ON. Thank you readers for patiently sticking around for the whole thing and showing your support. I hope I did this justice. Put a comment or like the story if you enjoyed it 💜 Enjoy!

Masterlist

Part 5

Year 3062 – 401 years after the Fall of the World

“We should stop here for water,” you suggested, pointing at a little oasis in the far distance. You and Jungkook had been trekking for over three weeks now in the dry lands. Thankfully, the small ponds of water with trees had become more frequent.

Jungkook agreed, his horse trotting forward happily to the water. Both of you refreshed yourselves and refilled your canteens. You took of your shoes and dipped your hot feet into the edge of the water. Jungkook followed your lead, sighing at the pleasant feeling of the coolness. You sat there for a while, giving yourselves and the horses a little time to rest.

You closed your eyes for a bit. When you opened them, you caught the barest hint of a man on a horse looking down at you over a large sand dune before disappearing over the edge. “Someone is watching us,” you whisper to Jungkook. He nodded, having noticed too. Both of you quickly slip your shoes back and mount your horses.

You track the prints from the man’s horse over the sand dune and onward for another hour, the figure a tiny black dot in the distance. As you had predicted, trees, albeit scraggy and dry-looking, started to litter the environment. Sand turned into dirt, scattered with thick grass. You and Jungkook cleared through a forest of those scraggly trees before spotting a dark green truck under a weeping willow. Weirdly… in the truck bed was a giant red drum. Cautiously, you and Jungkook approached the truck, riding around it into a clearing.

A little man in a black shirt and striped pants sat on the hood of the truck, holding a brown drum that was about as half as big as him. “Hello?” Oddly, he didn’t even spare at glance at either of you. “Hello?” Jungkook tried again. He dismounted his horse and walked in front of the man. Although Jungkook faced him, the man’s eyes looked beyond him. “Do you need help?”

“He won’t talk.” A strange voice called from behind the mountain of drums piled under the tree. Another man waltzed from around the drums towards Jungkook. The loose white shirt and brown pants he wore rippled with the late afternoon breeze. “I’ve known him for over four hundred years, and he’s never said more than five minutes’ worth of words to me. I doubt he’d even get a syllable out in the thirty seconds you’ve been here.”

“I’m sorry, and you are?” You ask, not necessarily meaning to sound as sassy as you did.

He turns to you, smirk lighting up his face. The sun made his blue hair shine purple in the light. “Hello, beautiful. It’s been a while since such a lovely thing graced my presence. What’s your name, love?” He extended a hand to caress your face.

“That’s none of your concern,” Jungkook growled, stopping the man’s hand from touching you. You remained steady in your stance, staring down at the man. over your nose.

He merely chuckled. “Oh, is she taken?”

“I asked, who are you?” You replied sternly.

The man huffed, rolling his eyes. “You two are clearly together. I’ve never met a pair of people who are too serious to take a little humor.” He steps back and bows dramatically. “I am Park Jimin. And this little man over here,” he points a thumb, “is my dear friend. I would love to tell you his name except I actually don’t know what it is myself.”

“Oh!” You exclaim. “You’re the last descendant. The one Jin mentioned.” You directed your last comment towards Jungkook. Remembrance dawned on him.

“Jin? Whose Jin?” Jimin questions.

“The last descendant of the ‘all-powerful’ Park family,” you continued. Jimin’s eyes to narrowed at you.

“Are you mocking me?” His jaw set in anger. “I would be careful if I were you. My line descends from the Mother Goddess herself. I have the kind of power that levels cities in the blink of an eye. I may be the last of my family, but I’m more powerful than all of them combined. Those pathetic fucks only sent me away to be ‘watched’ by this monk because they were all threatened by my power, and you both should be too!” With every word, Jimin’s power began to emanate from behind him like a pair of wings.

“Quit with the façade, boy.” Those five words came from the monk sitting on the truck. He was gently patting the top of the drum.

Jimin’s power suddenly shattered, almost comically, like a pane of glass. His mouth opened in shock before spitting at the man. “You! You haven’t said a word to me in decades, and now you choose to? How dare you humiliate me?!” He took long, threatening strides towards the monk.

He simply held up a hand, which sent a wave of magic to knock Jimin flat on his ass. “Learn control and balance. Keep your emotions in check.” Those were the last words you would hear from the monk.

Jimin swiftly jumped back on his feet, dusting off the dirt from his clothes. “Stupid man going on about stupid stuff,” he mutters.

“Enough,” Jungkook said. “While this has been fun, this has also presented a timely opportunity.” Jimin quirked an eyebrow at him. “War against the darkness is on the horizon. We are from a Mage settlement down South looking for anyone who can help us fight it. Would you help us?”

“No,” Jimin retorted.

Anger sparked in your chest at his dismissive answer. “If you are really all-powerful, then you’d help us.”

“Wrong,” he hissed. “The strength of my power does not correlate with my desires. I do not desire to help you, but my magic remains the most powerful there is.”

“Why won’t you help us?” Jungkook pushed.

“Because I do not want to. I’ve seen the Fall of the World and walked this empty land for over four centuries, and I cannot wait for it to end. The power and immortality of my bloodline prevents me from simply dying, so I figure… Why not let the darkness created by the greed and violence of those living on this wretched earth swallow it whole and end it all? What’s the point of saving what’s left of mankind when it has brought me nothing but pain and endless loneliness?” His tone was despairing, but bitter more than anything.

Tense silence consumed the conversation. Jimin looked expectantly between the both of you like he was waiting for you or Jungkook to say something—anything. Like how that’s not true, or it’s going to be okay, or you shouldn’t think like that. But neither of you said anything of that. Jimin finally turned away from both of you in farewell.

“I’m not going to apologize or give you pity because I know that’s not what you’re looking for Jimin,” you suddenly said.

He scoffed. “Oh, yeah? If you know, then what is it that I’m looking for?”

“A reason to live. Not to survive or exist, but to live,” you continued. Jimin tilted his head, considering your words. “I’ll admit I don’t know what that reason is, but I know this. This is the one and only world we get to live in, and we can’t just sit by and let it be destroyed. There are good people, human and Mage, left on this earth that are fighting for it and the rebuilding of a better world that awaits. Some of these people have gone through hell and back,” you glanced at Jungkook, “but they haven’t given up hope.” Jimin remained unconvinced.

“There’s a man in our settlement. He and his sister narrowly escaped the darkness. He has lived the last thirteen years of his life with that darkness festering in his veins—”

“Sounds like a horrible existence,” he muttered.

You ignored his petulance. “But he doesn’t give up because of his reason to live. To leave his sister in a better world than the one they were born into.” Silence. “Jimin, she’s a Seer.” This piqued his interest; a little bit more than he would have liked to let on. “She’s had visions of a Promised Land. It’s coming soon. I’d say that’s a fair motivator to live.”

“But only if we fight the darkness out there,” Jungkook added, standing right behind you in support.

Jimin thought it over for a few minutes, sitting on a nearby rock. He stared at you and Jungkook skeptically, those ancient eyes practically reading through you both. Finally, “My answer is still no. For now.” He got up from the rock and shoved his hands in his pockets.

It was better than nothing. “Alright. If you change your mind, our settlement is about a three weeks ride South. You will always be welcome there.” You all said your farewells. Mounting your horses, you and Jungkook continued your journey north.

…

Another two months pass before you reached the Scholars Mountain. An early Fall chill has already reached the stone peaks and slopes. When you and Jungkook arrived, you were both sought out by the mountain’s guards. It was anything less than a friendly introduction; nonetheless, with some persuasion, you got inside the Scholars Mountain.

Swiftly, you were escorted to a meeting hall decorated in swaths of red silk that hung from the sling. Rows of scholars, dressed in dark robes, held lit candles between their palms. With their heads bowed, their bodies faced the back of the hall where a man, who wore a white cotton shirt, kneeled before several bright candles beneath a shrine to a deity you knew as the Mother Goddess.

The guards place you and Jungkook to stand behind him before settling back to their posts. After several minutes of silence, the man finally rose and stood in front of you. You glimpsed a flash of orange in his eyes briefly before returning to a brown color. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and scrutinized both of you. You opened your mouth to introduce yourselves, but he stopped you by holding up a hand. “I know who you are, and I know why you’re here.”

“I’m afraid we don’t know who you are.” You quickly felt impatience flare in your chest at his dismissive tone.

“My name is Min Yoongi. I’m the Principal Scholar of the Northern Mages. But you could say I’m the Principal Scholar of all Mages as I’m the last one.” He seemed rather smug with that last remark. You and Jungkook both eyed him suspiciously. Yoongi cocked his head to the side. “What? Whatever ones I didn’t fight to the death were foolish like you, thinking you can take on the Evil One.”

“Why does it seem so foolish?”

“Because you have nothing but your magic and no other weapons. What battles have your people and that irrational General of yours won?” He answered for you before you could even open your mouth. “None. Tell me, is he still releasing doves out onto the battlefield, praying that the dove returns—a sign of hope?” He chuckled at the thought, causing your jaw to clench in anger. “Your entire settlement is running a fool’s errand.” Yoongi said rather petulantly. “As I’ve told your war general before, my people and I will not be involved in your war.”

“Our war? Your people?” Jungkook scoffed. “This is everyone’s war. We all will die if we don’t find the darkness that’s out there. You’re a Mage, too, and I’m sure a number of your followers are Mages as well.”

“My followers are believers, scholars, conveyers of the final prophecy… They are not fighters. We simply wait for the day when the Mother Goddess returns and heals the earth.”

“How do you know she will return?”

“My followers and I can see visions of life and death. We are connected to the forces around us. We know the Mother Goddess is still watching over us. However, we cannot demand her to return. She knows the right time when to return and reveal the Promised Land to us.”

“What if she doesn’t return in time?” you objected. “The darkness is poisoning the land and killing and enslaving those who cannot escape fast enough. You are not protected here!”

Suddenly, Yoongi was nose-to-nose with you, as if he sped through the air in under the blink of an eye. His gaze flared that brilliant orange again. “You speak of blasphemy, Mage.” Yoongi sneered at you. “We are protected here. The Mother Goddess recognizes our devotion and protects us from the Evil One. It’s not wise to question her presence for I can assure you that she will not save you.”

You’ve absolutely had it with this arrogant coward. He had nothing to show for either.

“You’re the fool,” you bit back, matching his challenging gaze. “You’re condemning these people to death if you do nothing. Is that what the Mother Goddess would want? Leading your followers to a slow, cold, painful death shrouded in the darkest materials of this universe? Because that is what’s coming for you and everyone in this room.”

Yoongi looked murderous, but after several tense seconds, the orange faded back to brown. He took a step back. “I guess we’re all fools then. There’s no point in fighting something that cannot be fought with even the strongest Mages left.” He nodded towards Jungkook, “Not even him.”

Jungkook narrowed his gaze at Yoongi. “What do you know about me?”

“I know your magic is still driven by your rage and a need for revenge. Burning the Citadel was not enough for you, was it?” At Yoongi’s words, you looked at Jungkook in surprise. He seemed to shift uncomfortably on his feet. “You need more. You’ve had that fire in your soul much longer than when you were imprisoned as the last Mage. It sparked the day when you were taken away from your parents, and it became a wildfire when you had everything taken from you. It has fueled your desire to take revenge on the whole world. That blaze needs to be fed, Jeon Jungkook. Fortunately for you, the enemy is close, but you may just lose yourself in the process.”

What was he saying? That Jungkook might die in this world? That he might truly not be the Jungkook you know and love after he unleashes his magic on the battlefield? As of immediate concern, why wasn’t Jungkook objecting?

“It seems I’ve seen your past, present and future correctly.” After several moments of silence that sucked all the air from the room, “Are you scared, Jeon Jungkook?”

The old, familiar taste of heavy metallic weighed on your tongue, along with new heavy, rippling waves in the air. “No. Not anymore.”

Yoongi smirked. “Looks like you might have a weapon after all. However, just Jungkook alone won’t be enough.”

“We met Park Jimin on the road. We asked him for the help—”

“Ha!” Yoongi laughed. “I’m sure he said he wouldn’t do it. That loser has been sitting on the same pile of dirt since before the Fall of the World. I doubt he will be of any help when it comes to the end.”

“You get ahead of yourself Yoongi. Are you sure you’re connected with the forces of the future?” You took satisfaction in the jab, especially at his following expression of sheer annoyance. “He said his answer was no for now,” you continued. “But only after we told him of a special young girl in our village and her brother, who will stop at nothing to make sure she lives in a peaceful world.”

“Touching, but what’s so special about her?”

“She’s a Seer.” It was your turn to smirk this time. Yoongi’s reaction was nearly identical to Jimin’s.

The flames on the candles behind him flared to life. He fell to his knees, pressing the heels of his palms harshly into his eyes. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his skin. His breath came out in a low groan.

“Yoongi?” You questioned.

His head snapped up to look at you, hands dropping from his face. Chills tracked down your spine.

Frightening cold pools of silver swirled in his eyes, blinding him from human sight. Just like how Tae described his sister’s eyes. “Oh my god,” you gasped. “You’re one of them, too.”

As quickly as the vision came, it was gone, and Yoongi returned to the present. “Leave us,” he ordered his followers. They filed out swiftly and silently. He took in deep breaths as if he had been drowning moments ago. “I’m only half a Seer. My Sight is only a fraction of what hers was. She could see what the Evil One wanted to do, where he was going at any moment in time. I can only see the aftermath long after a possible scenario of what might happen. My Sight is of no use. But hers…” He rose to his feet. For several moments he seemed at odds with himself—fighting between reason, disbelief and fear.

Jungkook objected. “What do you mean ‘was’? His sister’s not dead.”

“That’s not possible. I saw her die.” Yoongi explained gravelly.

Panic iced your blood. “What do you mean, you saw her die?! Just now?” Did something happen while you and Jungkook have been traveling? Would you go back to the settlement to find one less Mage and a lonely, heartbroken orphan?

To your relief, Yoongi shakes his head. “No.”

But you definitely weren’t prepared for his next answer.

“I saw her die over four hundred years ago.”

Quickly, Yoongi retreated into himself, becoming withdrawn and distraught.

“She was my little sister. Her name was Ella. She died trying to stop the Evil One from destroying the Old World, but she couldn’t… and no one came to help. She sacrificed herself to give us these last four centuries to figure out how to survive and defeat the Evil One.

“Ella disappeared completely. I never found her body. I couldn’t see her in my past memories. I remember her being there, but I couldn’t see her—interact with her to hopefully get answers to what she knew. I tried for so long to find her, but I couldn’t take the pain of it anymore. I just stopped trying.” He sat on a bench with his head in his hands, fingers gripping the silver ends of his hair.

You moved to sit in front of Yoongi, folding your legs underneath you. Jungkook took a careful seat next to Yoongi on the bench.

“I wondered… for the longest time,” Yoongi continued. “If she went to a happier place; if she and her soul were ripped apart into oblivion by the darkness… or if she was simply waiting in the wings for the right moment to return to the stage. I never knew the full extent of her powers. I learned here that Seers cannot just reveal the future in hopes of preventing tragedy. We can only just set up a catalyst and hope that someday that someone uses it to make the world better.”

“I believe you’re right, Yoongi. Ella has given us that. And, now might be the last chance to finish what she started. Now is the time for you to make her your reason to fight.” You tried to encourage him.

“I just can’t believe that she could be alive. Not after all this time…”

Yoongi kept talking himself in circles for the rest of the evening. Four hundred years’ worth of grief and pain gripped his heart like a vice. It made his magic fade to nothing in his veins. Never did he feel or look more human than he did that evening. He felt every part of his being break down into numbness.

Eventually, Yoongi asked for them to leave him. He was no longer interested in talking or thinking about anything of this.

You and Jungkook decided to head out at first light the next morning, both of you feeling as though all options had been exhausted. You weren’t sure where Yoongi stood. You write a letter to him, telling him about the settlement, the details of Jin’s timeline for the war, and where the final battle might take place if he decided to fight one last time.

…

Year 3063 – 402 years after the Fall of the World

The long three-month journey back to the settlement was miserable. The winter cold came much faster and stronger than you had anticipated. It was a relatively silent three month’s ride back home. You only conversed with Jungkook when it regarded food, directions and how to not freeze to death while you slept. He kept to himself, and it worried you greatly. Was he regressing back to before? He seemed millions of miles away some days, and you had no idea how to reach him.

With the new year and the flesh-biting cold of one of the harshest winters you’ve ever lived through trailing behind you, you and Jungkook arrive back at the settlement empty-handed. Seokjin had met you two at the entrance with a hopeful expression on his face that quickly dismantled into sheer disappointment and disappear. Then, it switched into something empty and emotionless, and he stormed off to direct and finish war preparations.

The settlement only had the rest of the winter and spring before it would happen.

While you and Jungkook were unpacking in your house, you began to ask him about what Yoongi had said to him back at the temple.“It’s hard to explain,” he murmured. You could sense he was teetering between wanting to open up and not wanting to. Even if he did, he didn’t know how.

“Do you want me to go get Taehyung? Or Namjoon?”

He shook his head softly. “No, they… already know.”

You weren’t going to lie to yourself. It stung, but you couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t take it to heart—not after everything that he’s been through. It’s only been a year and a half since he was freed, and he did appear to open up a lot more to the guys. It’s not that Jungkook didn’t trust you, but it was easier to be more vulnerable with Taehyung and Namjoon, who had become his best friends.

“I wanted to talk to you about it.” Jungkook began to explain. “I just didn’t want you to worry about me. I wanted to protect you.”

Tears prickled at your eyes. “Jungkook, you’re so selfless, and it’s so incredible and frustrating at the same time.” Your voice cracked with each word, and it became harder to speak.

He appeared bewildered. “What?”

You rushed forward and wrapped him in a hug, burying your face in his shoulder. “You don’t have to do that for me. I want to protect you, Jungkook. You’ve sacrificed yourself over and over again for me, and I can’t let you be the only one who does that. I want you to be able to feel like you can share your burdens with me. I’m ready when you want to share it.” And you leave it at that. You have no room to pry or force him to open about something that is strongly tied to the trauma he experienced for almost his whole life.

Jungkook wrapped his arms tight around you, pulling you close to him. He laid a kiss on your head. “Thank you, y/n. I love you.”

“I love you more than anything, Jungkook.” You pressed a loving kiss to his lips. “I’m always with you, no matter what.”

…

As the war drew close enough to be counted down in days, everyone became extremely anxious for more help to arrive. Seokjin convinced some more Mage tribes and settlements to join the fight. However, the two people you had asked for help hadn’t shown up. Not even a word from up North.

One evening, Taehyung became extremely desperate. He didn’t think the war could be won. He told his sister she must continue to travel as far East as she could, to the coast, and not to come back until it was safe—if it ever was. He wanted to give her another chance at life. “You must go with the other young children East. It’s not safe here. I don’t want you to be in danger, and I wouldn’t be able to protect you.”

“No!” She protested vehemently. “I want to stay with you!” She hugged her big brother tightly. Never in their whole lives had they been apart.

Taehyung was heartbroken. “I can’t protect you here. I’m… I’m very sick.” In truth, he was dying. The curse inside him finally started to tap at his heart, which puts him through very long fits of vomiting and passing in and out of consciousness regularly.

When sobs racketed her little, Taehyung couldn’t hold back his own tears. He had hoped he could give her a better world to live in before he passed from this world. However, that proved harder than what he was able to do. He thought that if he couldn’t give her that, he could still give her a chance to survive.

…

“Hello again, little Mage.” You whipped around from gathering herbs. Namjoon had sent you on a full day’s run to get surplus of materials to make medicines and salves.

“Jung Hoseok. It’s been a long time.”

“Almost three summers. It’s just in a couple days, little Mage. I believe you owe me something that will make me happy.” He took several steps toward, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark jeans. His face was tilted in inquiry.

You hadn’t forgotten about your deal with the death spirit. You just didn’t figure it out, much less be able to work towards finding it. Truthfully, when Seokjin had declared that the war would happen this summer, which is less than a couple days away, it had presented a timely opportunity for you.

“Do you have it?”

You took a deep breath. “No. I don’t.”

Rage, frustration and then disappointment flickered across his face. “Why not, little Mage?”

“I have something better.” He quirked an eyebrow at you. “The Promised Land is within reach.”

Hoseok scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What the fuck? How is that better?”

“If we can just win the war—”

“Win the war?!” He shouted. He released a laugh of disbelief and one that was absolutely hysterical. “You’re such an idiot! You think you can bank this deal—a piece of happiness for me—on the most impossible chance that this war could be won?” You felt a shiver travel down your spine at his outburst. He pointed an accusatory finger at you, “I’m not going to feel bad when I drink your soul because you denied me something that could finally give me happiness after four hundred fucking years of sorrow and anguish.” Unexpectedly, Hoseok started to cry. You couldn’t but feel bad for him. He was living a horrible existence as a starving ghost doomed to walk the earth for eternity, watching and waiting for the death of fellow humans so he could get some relief.

“What would bring you happiness?” You inquired softly when he dried his tears.

He was silent for a few long moments before he said the most honest thing you’ve heard from him. “I want to see my sister again.”

“Where is she?”

“In Paradise.” More tears left his eyes. “I couldn’t save her from the Fall. I did everything I could, even selling my own soul… but it wasn’t enough. I’ve regretted that decision every moment of my immortal existence. If I hadn’t done that—if I had realized that there was a better place beyond this one—I would be able to see her in the clouds. But I’m forever bound to this fallen world.”

“I’m sorry, Hoseok,” you said sincerely. “I don’t know how to help you.”

His expression became hard. Suddenly, his tears had dried. “Then, you should expect me to come for your soul in a few days. Because I’m a merciful spirit, I’ll even let you fight on the battlefield for your cause before I collect it. Although, I don’t think that will be a very long time. I guess I’m also a patient spirit.” He said rather bitterly. He shoved his hands back in his pockets and turned on his heel.

“Wait, Hoseok,” you called him before he disappeared. “I know I’m in no position to ask for a favor, but I mean this sincerely. I know the chance of winning is slim, but what if we did win? The darkness would be gone. Things might change for everyone, including you… So, consider fighting with us. Gather other death spirits and help us achieve a different world.” You let your offer hang in the air. Hoseok was still, except for the turn of his head to give you a mournful glance.

Then, he was gone.

You were hopeful for a yes, but at least he didn’t outright give you a ‘no.’ You seemed to be experiencing a lot of that lately. You’ve just come to the conclusion that uncertainty was high and not many promises survived in this world. You just had to be hopeful that the right choices will be made when the right time comes.

…

With the next few passing days, the darkness drew closer, which sent the sun running for cover. It hurried the last of the preparations during the rare hours of light left in the day until there were none left. When complete darkness ascended the sky, Seokjin commanded everyone, except the frontline, to move to high ground. Up there on those several large rolls of hills, massive bonfires were lit in front of newly constructed shelter. When everyone was finally in position, it was a matter of waiting for the signal.

Despite the heavy silence in the air, you heard quickening breaths, hammering hearts and dripping sweat. Chitters even made your unsteady. You wrapped your fingers around Jungkook’s tightened fist, stabilizing yourself and providing a grounding force for him. You stood between him and Seokjin at the front at the top of the hill. Lines of Mages and human soldiers stood tall behind you. You all looked like a rag-tag team of street fighters, not a navy ready to take down the biggest threat in all the world. But sometimes that’s who was needed…

People.

Even people who couldn’t or chose not to fight. There were builders, craftsmen and healers all waiting inside the shelter. Namjoon stood right behind the fighting lines with a bag packed with medicines and bandages to help those hurt in action. Lastly, you still held out hope that not everyone had shown up yet.

Out of the corner of your eye, Seokjin surveyed the men and women he’s about to lead to victory or the end. The weight of it caused his wide shoulders to sag. But he could not show his fear or weakness. He had to be a strong leader for them. He took a deep breath of humid air, straightening his spine.

Below you, a sudden spark of the fire glowed between the thick, quiet trees.

A deep chill ran through the air.

The adrenaline kicked in to awaken still senses, fire muscles into action and rip war cries from dry throats.

The singing of a conch shell boomed in the air.

It left a ringing in your ears that soon muffled the shouts and screams of your fellow soldiers when darkness descended upon you. As planned, everyone broke their red Witch flares on their belts, revealing everyone’s location amongst the oppressing black air. You stuck back-to-back with Jungkook, drawing flames from the bonfire to burn the horrifying shadow monsters that left their refuge in the dark to destroy you.

It was fast and never ending. You swiped fire with one hand and then immediately had to dodge an oncoming attack. You had times where you missed, and the pain sent your blood rushing in your ears that were already straining to hear strategy and commands from various fighters against the screeches of the demons and the screams of the dying.

“ADVANCE!” You heard Seokjin roar. Down the hill, he met the feet of the darkness where they planted themselves on the plateau. You were gaining ground.

But at what cost?

It was hard not to trip over the bodies of the frontline soldiers at the base of the hill.

As you ran forward, everything became more suffocating and a bone-chilling freeze replaced the humid summer air.

And cries of temporary victory soon became cries of last words.

One particular cry made you turn in alarm. “Jungkook!” He clutched his arm, blood spilling through his fingers.

Then, he became absolutely enraged. With the blood that stained his hand and ran down his arm, he created his own white-hot fire, which he lashed out like a whip and ended the demonic being. You stared at him wide-eyed as he just ripped through shadow demon after demon, wielding his bright fire, until he cleared a full-on path behind him.

In your distraction, you failed to notice a disturbingly human-like creature tackle you to the ground. You fell flat on your belly with a yelp of surprise. You felt the wind get knocked out of you. You struggled to flip around, your hands flying out to try to get your magic to protect you. Before you could even feebly attempt to do so, the demon was already turning to ash above you. Jungkook grabbed you by the hands and hauled you to your feet.

“How—how did you do that?” You sputtered out after a shaky apology.

“No time.” He growled. He resumed position back-to-back with you. That’s when you felt how hot he was through his shirt that was soaked with sweat. He was burning up.

“Jungkook, cool it down! You’ll burn yourself out!”

“I feel fine!” He shouts back with a tone that doesn’t sound like him at all. It was so foreign to you that you spared a glance to make sure the words were leaving his mouth.

Any hesitation from the surrounding shadow demons at the demonstration of Jungkook’s power ceases, and they begin attacking again. You try to aid him in clearing the area around you by forcing the demons into Jungkook’s white flames with your magic. Although it appeared that you and Jungkook were making progress leading the front line, you hadn’t realized that your fellow soldiers were not. As a result, more and more demons came up behind you as Jungkook moved forward, effectively separating you from the rest of the army.

“Jungkook, stop!” But he couldn’t hear you. He just kept slashing through each creature with mad swings of his fiery whip. You tried to cover your 6 o’clock and the sides, but it slowed you down as Jungkook got farther and farther away. “Jungkook!” You tried to call for him again.

You lost him amongst the dark chaos. Panic swells up within you at the fact you’re now fighting alone against several demons. Your moment of distraction allows one of them to take a swipe at you. Its claws seared through the skin of your arm. You cried out in pain, clutching your bad arm as you were forced to defend yourself with it. You clenched your jaw in pain. However, your slowness had cost you as another demon hit you across the face. You flew back into the ground, a scream escaping your lips. Fresh, hot blood dripped down the side of your face. You only had a moment more before the demon descended on you again, raising a lethal looking claw to rip your guts out.

Suddenly, the demon withered into ashes with a loud pop. You whip around to see Namjoon flanked by two Mages helping him clear a way to you. “Y/n!”

“Namjoon! What are you doing out here? It’s too dangerous!” You get to your feet, and he met you halfway. Immediately, he dug through his bag and pulled out a salve and generously coated it on your wounds.

“I could say the same thing! You must be more careful. Where’s Jungkook?” He looked around frantically.

“I don’t know. He got ahead of me. Give me some of those grenades!” You demanded, rifling through his bag to grab a few. “I’m going to try to catch up with him. He needs help!” You turned on your heel, but Namjoon grabbed your shoulder to spin you around to face him again.

“Be careful! It’s not safe around him right now. I don’t think he’s in complete control of his power. “

“But I can’t just leave him by himself! He needs me with him! I told him he wouldn’t have to do any of this own,” tears prickled at the backs of your eyes. You looked ahead to the direction you saw him go last. Sure enough, you saw the blindingly white light of his fire in the far distance—so, so close to the center of the darkness.

He was going to confront the master controller of all this, and he was going in alone. He was going to get his revenge, even if it cost him his life.

Your biggest fear of today was coming to fruition. You shouted his name one last time into the air, pushing the waves of sound through the air to him with your magic. It was all you could do left to stop him.

But your effort proved futile. Mere moments later, his white fire was swallowed by the darkness. “NO!” You pusedh Namjoon’s hand off you and surge forward into the cluster of demons. You threw all your grenades to clear an area in front of you wide enough for your magic to be effective in throwing them out of the way or burning them to ashes. Sweat dripped off your face, signaling that most of your magic has been spent. You cursed at yourself for your magic never having as much depth and range as Jungkook’s.

Your hits became less powerful with each one. You could hear Namjoon and the other two Mages calling for you to come back to them rather than fight alone. But it was too late. More demons had already poured behind you and blocked the path like hedges in a never-ending maze in which you can never go back. It wore you down to the bone until you made a futile mistake that put you once again in a vulnerable position.

This was it. You were out of weapons and magic, surrounded by hundreds of horrifying monsters with no one able to help you. Your vision began to grow darker, and for several seconds, you thought you had just entered the deepest, darkest circle of hell.

Then, the sun started to come out. You blinked blearily eyes. The demons began to scurry away from the patches of light shining on the ground back towards their master. You hurried to your feet and dodged creature after creature as they ran past you.

You looked up.

And there was help up on the hill.

Park Jimin was standing in the front. Ripples of magic emanated from him, controlling black tendrils of the darkness from beyond. It twisted and writhed against Jimin’s magic. The monk stood next to him, beating a steady rhythm on his red drum.

Then, there was Min Yoongi, hand-in-hand with Tae’s sister. Around them were hundreds of Scholars dressed in red robes. You couldn’t believe it. They were actually here. You didn’t have much time to think how, but it was apparent enough that Tae’s sister had found Jimin and Yoongi on the road and had convinced them to come.

The way back to the hill became clearer. Teams of healers were dispatched to the wounded and the remaining able-bodied soldiers snuffed out the last of the demons. It invigorated you to keep forging forth. You ran towards Jungkook’s direction and found him lying on the ground. You roll him onto his back. To your relief, he becomes aware of your presence rather quickly. However, it is short-lived after you realize the horrible shape, he is in. Bloodied from fresh wounds, dirt covered his face, and sweat drenched his clothes. His skin was unusually pale, and his lips were cracked from dehydration.

“Hurry, we have to get back to base. You can’t fight like this.” You urge him as you help him get up and put an arm around him for support.

“I’m fine. I’m just a little tired,” he said breathlessly and unconvincingly.

“You’re burnt out.” You hissed at him. “Gosh, you’re so stupid. I can’t believe that you would just go that far alone without anyone to watch your back.” He didn’t have much energy left to fight you dragging him back towards the camp.

Above you, Jimin’s magic kept the darkness at bay. He didn’t seem to be defeating it, but rather buying everyone time to regroup and get back to safety. You crossed the open field back to the bottom of the hill.

“Take the of the injured, eat and rest. Unfortunately, this battle is not over yet.” Seokjin declared to the soldiers, patting them on the back, trying to encourage them. You had been fighting on the field for a number of hours already. Namjoon spotted you with Jungkook, and he rushed over to him to aid you. You refreshed yourself with some water and food as well.

Then, you heard Taehyung calling out his sister’s name, voice hoarse, as he stumbled around the base looking for her. He looked so sick. He was unnaturally pale, which provided a stark contrast against the darkness raging in his veins all over his body. When he finally spotted her, he cursed himself. “What are you doing? You should be on the coast right now! How could you be here?” With every word, he grew more and more upset, and he collapsed to his knees. His sister didn’t say anything; instead, she ran to her brother and wrapped him in a hug.

Yoongi approached them cautiously. Taehyung eyed him wearily and stood shakily to his feet. Yoongi held out his hand, “I’m assuming your Kim Taehyung. I’m Min Yoongi. It’s great to finally meet you.” They shook hands. “Your sister told me a lot about you. She found us. When she was traveling north. But, um… it sounds like she was supposed to go East,” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Don’t blame her, though. It’s because of my stubborn ass that she had to come get me so I and my followers would be able to help.”

“Okay, I’ll blame you then,” Taehyung responded with a quip. It definitely wasn’t the politeness Taehyung should have showed to his elder, but also wasn’t a normal day for sure. And Yoongi must’ve also understood Taehyung’s frustration.

“Please don’t fight, Taetae. I couldn’t leave everyone when I need to be here to help win the war.” His sister explained. Immediately, Taehyung’s mood shifted to that of understanding, but concern as well. She has never said something that she didn’t mean or know to be true. “And it requires the help of the Scholars and the last descendant of the Mother Goddess.”

“We also need a vessel,” Yoongi interjected.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone who is willing to sacrifice themselves in order to destroy the Evil One. It has to be a Mage. Humans are not strong enough to handle the integration.”

Taehyung did not hesitate. “I’ll do it.”

“No!” His sister protested.

Yoongi stared at him, surprised that he would volunteer so quickly. “That’s very courageous of you. But you do know that this would mean complete obliteration of your soul? There will be no Paradise afterwards. Only oblivion.”

“I can’t let you do that Taehyung.” Seokjin spoke. “I do not wish for anybody who dies on this field today to go anywhere other than Paradise. There has to be another way.”

“Sadly, there isn’t.” Yoongi said sullenly. “Actually, Taehyung would have to—need to be the vessel. He has the darkness within him. If we are to destroy the Evil One, we have to destroy everywhere he is hiding, even in those that we know.”

“No! I don’t want this to happen!” Tae’s sister cried. “I didn’t want this part to be true…”

Taehyung looked shocked. He felt his heart breaking even more. He bent down to her level in front of her and wiped away her tears. “It’s okay. I’m sick anyway, and this way I can give you what I’ve always wanted for you—a better future. Nothing would make me happier than to have my dying wish for you be fulfilled.” Each word seemed calm and serene.

It only made her sob harder. “I don’t want to be in a world without you.”

“Please… I want to do this. I have to help make it right.” Taehyung pleaded. She didn’t accept it, but you realized she also didn’t have a choice. Taehyung gave her one last hug. He turned to Yoongi, and they headed back up the hill to Jimin.

Seokjin approached you and Jungkook. He spoke specifically to Jungkook, “How are feeling? Are you up for another fight?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because we’ll need your magic for this.”

…

Soon, Jimin’s magic slowed with the beat of the drum until the darkness was allowed to recede back to its master. If this was going to work, Jimin had to redirect his magic. Everyone was prepared this time, however. Soldiers were strategically placed in groups across the plain between the hill and the thunderheads of inky black. Taehyung stood in the center of all of it, chin raised to stare down the enemy. Jungkook was near him, slowly readying his magic for one last spiraling burst of power that could hopefully end this war.

Then, a new beat of the drum began, slow and steady yet more intense than the last time.

The young girl watched the Evil One with careful eyes, and then closed her own beneath her blindfold. She channeled into the depths of her visions until she broke through the bottom-most barrier of her mind into that of the evil entity across the plain. She could sense its unrelenting need to dominate and conquer every living thing it crossed. Everything that it wanted her to see. However, unaware of the true strength of this girl, the Evil One unwittingly revealed everything that she wasn’t meant to see.

Focused and sharp as a new blade, she opened up another channel in her mind—one that would let Jimin in. He saw what she was able to discover about the Evil One and his movements. Thus, began the final plan of attack.

Ever so slowly, Jimin coaxed the darkness away from its master, stealthy like a snake. Except this time, instead of leading it into his grasp, Jimin made it so Taehyung appeared as bait. An oasis amongst endless desert. It should be the easiest part—Taehyung had a piece of them within him. He should seem familiar like an old friend.

Soldiers readied their weapons of choice for when the moment came when the Evil One would soon realize what they were doing. A steady trickle of lesser demons ran out of the shadows but were swiftly defeated.

Everything seemed to be working according to plan. A thought after several tense minutes that sent cold sweat dripping down everyone’s’ spines.

The darkness was close to Taehyung. It curled and slithered towards him, tapping at the air around him until it seemed sure he was safe. It pushed against his chest and began to sink into his skin. Taehyung’s muscles started to tremble at the physical manifestation of evil wrapping around his heart. He tried to keep steady and control his reactions. If he spooked it at all, the plan would go to hell.

But it was so hard. With the intrusion came pain that started out as a deep ache but became so blinding that he couldn’t control his own body anymore.

He fell to his knees.

A forceful disturbance was palpable in the air with a spike of metallic fear that quickly followed.

The earth shook under your feet.

Around you, soldiers looked around wildly, bodies tensed for a fight.

Jimin struggled to maintain control of the hands and feet of the Evil One. Sweat plastered his blue hair to his forehead. The young girl by his side struggled herself to stay within the mind of the Evil One as he relentlessly tried to push her out.

Then, the dark creatures poured out from underneath the cloak of the Evil, and they came back with a vengeance. These were much faster, stronger and smarter—significantly harder to defeat. It took teams of two or three Mages to even take down one. Seokjin called for everyone’s groups to close in on the center of the formation, where Taehyung was standing. He must be protected at all costs until it’s time. But you were getting hammered out there, much worse than before.

Your fellow Mages fell around you. You tried to help them or see if they could still be saved, but the demons were so aggressive. Each defense you put up they were already a step ahead of you with another offensive attack. It became too much, and you quickly found yourself on the losing side of the fight.

Within the grasp of the demon, ready to be mauled apart by its claws, you watch with wide eyes as a pair of human hands break the monster’s neck.

No. Not exactly human.

“Hoseok!”

“You should be more careful, little Mage. These guys aren’t as friendly as they appear.” He threw the carcass aside and spat on it. “Are you hurt?”

“A little, but I’m fine. Thank you for coming.” Your expression of gratitude was strained as you both work to fight off another demon.

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t come for your cause. My friends and I came here for revenge.” With another trick of the eye and snap of his wrist, he downed another enemy.

“We?”

As if in answer, the air chilled with the presence of thousands of death spirits—hungry for the blood of their masters who hold their souls hostage. “Fall back with the others, y/n. Protect your vessel. We’ll take care of the rest of these motherfuckers.” Hoseok cracked his knuckles and stretched his neck to the side in intimidation.

You fell back, urging others to follow you to form a defensive cluster around Taehyung. The darkness around him kept trying to pull back. Jimin wasn’t going to be able to do this alone. He needed help, and thankfully he had some.

Yoongi directed his followers to grab a hold of the Evil One and bring it to the vessel. Hundreds of red robed Scholars raised their hands in unison and created a force of energy that sucked all the air inward towards the circle around Taehyung like funnel. The dark clouds followed, allowing the sun to shine through.

The darkness became a tornado above you, more and more of it being sucked into the spiral that kept going down, down, down into Taehyung. His body blackened with the presence of the darkness inside him. He was crying out in pain or rage. It could not be distinguished because no one knew if it was still Taehyung or if it was the Evil One. One of them stopped fighting because then the rest of the Evil One rushed into Taehyung.

It was silent for several moments. The pounding sun was a shock to everyone, but a welcome one that helped to invigorate many of the soldiers. Taehyung was heaving on the ground, trying to catch his breath. His breathing slowed, and he stood up. But the eyes that stared back were not Taehyung’s.

“NOW!” Jimin bellowed from the hilltop.

Jungkook let his white fire rage forth towards the Evil One. You prepared for the winning blow, but it didn’t come. The Evil One was quick to react. He threw up a defensive wall of his own, blocking Jungkook’s flames from reaching him. Jungkook pushed harder, willing his magic to overcome the Evil One’s dark powers. You could tell it was wearing on him.

You had to do something.

You ran to him and threw your magic in with his.

“Y/n, what are you doing? Get back!” He urged you.

“I told you you’re not doing this alone because you don’t have to. You never let me fall, and I’m going to return the sentiment.” You grabbed his hand in yours and channeled your magic to him. The white flames got hotter and brighter.

He turned to face you and saw a familiar light in your gaze. He was reminded of that night in the dungeon in the Citadel all those years ago when he helped you express your magic. Suddenly, he didn’t see this war as revenge anymore. No, it was about burning out the impurities in this world and remolding in into something new and beautiful. It’s not about hate—it’s about love.

The world became much brighter, but the flow of magic persisted. The Evil One tried to fight it, but he couldn’t beat something that time and time again survived even the hardest of days. Jungkook’s fire broke through and penetrated the soul of the dark entity. The body that it held hostage roared in fury and pain. The rivers of black ink that covered the body burned away and disintegrated into ash in the air. The Evil One tried to escape the body, but the soul within kept him grounded and forced him to endure every second of his lasting defeat.

Around you and Jungkook, every Mage and human was silent as they watched the long era of death and suffering come to an end. No longer would they have to look West and wonder how long they had to run before they were next.

The last of the darkness left Taehyung’s body. The flow of magic stopped.

It was over.

Taehyung collapsed to the ground. Namjoon and Tae’s sister rush to him.

You barely catch Jungkook as he falls to the ground from exhaustion. This weight caused you to sink your own tired body to the grass. He groans. His skin was burning hot. You used the last bit of your energy left to cool him off. He appears to be alright otherwise.

You’re thankful. He chose not to lose himself or let the darkness take him with it.

“He’s not breathing!” Namjoon shouted. More medical personnel ran to help him. You watch helplessly as they tried to save him.

Yoongi and Jimin descended the hill to assess the situation. Their expressions mirrored everyone else’s of deep sadness. It was as though the war wasn’t won. Tae’s sister tugged on Jimin’s arm and pleaded, “Please, please do something to help him.” Tears fell down her face and soaked her blindfold.

“I can’t. I don’t have the power to bring anybody back.” He replies softly laced with disappointment.

“Ask her.” She begged. Jimin knew who she was referring too.

He looked at her in earnest. “I’ll try.” Jimin sat next to Taehyung’s body and placed his hands on his chest. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. “Mother…” He seemed to search for her, chin slightly swaying and turning until he stopped at the sky. “This man is… He’s a good man. Better than good—he is the most courageous and selfless person I’ve never met. He gave up his life for the world you’ve given us… And I think he deserves a second chance to live a great life.” Jimin opened his eyes, flooded with tears.

A tear fell from his face, and with it—

It started to rain. The droplets rejuvenated the life in every living thing around it. The grass perked up from its roots. The leaves on trees became greener. Men and women tilted their heads back to the skies to feel the cool water on their skin.

Taehyung took his first breath for the second time.

“Tae!” His sister was overjoyed.

He blinked blearily towards the sky before he began to focus on the scene around him. He finally saw a big smile on her face—for the first time since he could ever remember. “Hey,” he greets her with his own smile. “What happened? Did I hit my head or something?”

Everyone around him lets out a chuckle. “Something like that,” Jimin smiles at him. “Good to finally meet you formally, Kim Taehyung. I’m Park Jimin.” He shakes Taehyung’s hand. Taehyung returns the sentiment. It puts everything at ease, and the recovery finally can start.

…

A couple days later, after everyone tended to the wounded, buried their dead and began to rebuild the settlement, Tae was walking with his sister to find Jimin. Suddenly, she wandered off. Taehyung found her just outside the edge of the woods.

Standing before a gate that wasn’t there before.

These white walls were nothing like the walls of the Citadel. These walls were more like a white picket fence as opposed to towering giants. Vines crept up the sides of the walls as if nobody bothered to take care of the place. But still, there was something about it…

Then, he knew.

“This is it.” His sister said. Taehyung kneeled in front of her. She looked beyond him towards the gates. Carefully, Taehyung gently tugged the blindfold from his sister’s eyes. And was greeted with warm brown eyes instead of milky ones he saw so many years ago. She smiled at him. It made Taehyung’s heart soar.

She was no longer cursed with being a Seer, and she can now start living a real life. Now she was just another human girl.

A rumbling sounded from the white gates, and they began to open. Taehyung stood next to his sister and took her hand. They watched as a new world was revealed to them.

“Taehyung!” Jimin called from the tree line. Then, he saw the open gates. “What is that?”

Upon hearing the commotion, you, Jungkook, Namjoon and Yoongi emerge from the woods. You saw what was beyond the gates. Untouched earth that was luscious and green. A towering rock guarded over the whole oasis. Other people from the settlement came as well, wanting to see what the excitement was about. Seokjin appeared not too long after, carrying a bird cage in his hand.

He stepped to the front of the crowd and released the dove from its cage. Everyone waited anxiously. And then the dove came flying back with several over doves. No one could believe it. This was it.

The Promised Land.

Cheers went around the crowd. Seokjin, who grinned broadly, waved for everyone to follow him. They ran with him into the new land. You squeezed Jungkook’s hand in excitement. He looked so hopeful, eyes sparkling with happiness. He pulled you into a kiss. Like the first time he kissed you, everything seemed right.

“Little Mage,” you turned to see Hoseok behind you. He smiled at you in greeting, “I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” You asked.

“For finally giving me something that brings me happiness. You and everyone.” He gazed towards the Promised Land. “I can finally be free.” The way he said free—he didn’t mean just on this Earth. Hoseok walked to the gates of the Promised Land.

And disappeared.

Hoseok’s spirit traveled to Paradise, where he was finally reunited with sister.

“Come on,” Jungkook jerked his head to the open gates, “let’s go in.” He smiled lovingly at you. Hand-in-hand, you walked into a new world together.

A world where Mages live freely and peacefully with humans.

Seokjin decided to retire his leadership position among the settlement. Namjoon took up the mantle and became a great leader. A leader that brought together mankind and the Mages so they would live in harmony.

Yoongi and his followers were released from their vows as Scholars and went on to live normal lives. He lost his Seer abilities just like Tae’s sister, who he realized was not his sister, Ella. However, after the Evil One was vanquished, he felt reunited with Ella in spirit.

Jimin chose to lead a quiet life after the war. He remained with the settlement, finally feeling like he has a family with the other boys.

In fact, even during all the hardship and tough days, all of you gained a new family; and the bonds between all of you were stronger than any force to exist on this earth.

#bts fanfic #bts music video #bts #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader #Reader x Jungkook #interpretation #on #on music video #kim taehyung #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook #fantasy

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madirablack · 5 years ago

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Random fluffy gency? Okay sure I can do that:

Genji had always found it difficult to sleep since the incident. Be it the unrelenting nightmares, living it over again and again in minute detail, or just the tiny, faint hum of his cybernetics that he would never usually notice, but at night in a dark room with no other noise than your breathing and the shifts of the comforter, it was like a heavy metal concert right against your eardrums. Tonight, it was a strange pit in his chest, unlike one he had ever felt. Drinking water didn't help, as he tossed and turned in bed the pain would rush from one side to the other, making a lump in his throat and shivers down the back of his head. It felt like he would start to cry any second. He hated crying. He was never allowed to do it. It was always a brief second of showing emotion before a slap in the face or a kick in the side. He heard the distant noises of the air strip and the returns of a mission as he sat up, taking a look at the clock imprinted on his room's control panel. 2:37 AM. He gave a small defeated sigh and surrendered to a sleepless night and opened his door, squinting at the sudden blinding light of the hallways. It took him longer than usual to adjust to the sight, but he soon managed to begin his way down the halls in his pajamas, a hand trailing along the dark wooden rails. The lighting wasn't actually quite severe as he first perceived, and it was dulled by the large windows letting in the shadowy moonlight. Genji absently looked up to the directions sign, pointing to the left to the medical bay. He had been such a frequent flyer he knew the way there by heart.

He found the familiar white door, with the metallic overwatch insignia over a nameplate. He knew she was on night duty today, waiting for any casualties from the returning mission. He was about to knock when he swore he heard crying from inside. His metal arm clinked slightly against the door handle as he opened it slow, instinctive concern building it's way up through his chest as he began to approach the design chair. "Angela...?" Genji called out in a soft tone, tensing at the unnatural sound his voice rung with, but relaxing slightly when she registered his presence.

"What are you doing up so late Genji? Is anything wrong?" Angela said as she turned around, giving him a small smile in response to seeing his face fall as he looked at her. Her hair was messy and greasy, pulled back with a pencil that was starting to fall out of the once tight knot. Her glasses were beginning to fall off of her nose, giving him a proper view of the dark circles that rimmed her dulled eyes. Her face was reddened by the presence of tears. The room was dark, and the sole light coming through was from the computer.There were endless coffee mugs piled on the side of her desk amongst the papers and files and broken pencils. She looked incredibly fragile, almost like she was shaking slightly. It broke his heart to see his angel of hope so worked out.

"Never mind me." Genji sighed as he walked over to her, moving a destroyed pile of papers out the way, instinctively kneeling and holding her hand gently in his, "hey... what's up? What's happened?" He asked her, looking up and making the eye contact she was trying to avoid. He didn't press, he just waited for her to initiate the conversation, as he usually did, relaxing the tension in his shoulders when she finally did.

"These are all reports and statements and- I never got them done and now they're way overdue and I need to file each incident with each treatment I gave or with what happened in the thing and my father called earlier and then there's-" She said hurriedly, almost without breath.

"How long have you been working for?"

"A few hours... when did you last see me?"

"I haven't really today, I couldn't sleep and I missed you so that's why i came..." Genji sighed, running his thumb over her hand in a small attempt of comfort, looking into her eyes. "Have you taken a break?" He asked as he began to clear the papers and trash from around her, looking over as she shook her head. He frowned and turned to her again, taking both of her hands in his. "You of all people should know how important rest is. It helps the body and the mind. You've been on this for hours, it's almost 3AM. The team that landed haven't come through to you yet, and it's not like there aren't others with medical training that can tend to potential injuries. Please, can you take a break and get some rest?" He asked, putting on his best puppy dog eyes to get her to agree. She really visibly needed sleep. There had been many times like this in the past, almost always the other way round. She was always so strong and sensible.

"I feel rather uncomfortable..." Angela said in a small voice as she batted the hair that had been stuck to her forehead out of the way, seeming to recoil at the scent. "But I do have to get this done..."

"You need to rest, your brain needs time to rest and reset so that you are more able to work effectively. You shouldn't be tiring yourself out like this. You need to take better care of yourself. C'mon. Let's go." He said with a soft smile as he outstretched a hand, delight bubbling in his chest as she took it. He pulled her out of the chair and into a much-needed hug, letting out a small sigh of relief as he felt the pit in his chest fizzle out into a dull warm spot. When they separated again, he made a funny face at her, watching happily as she smiled.

He took her hand and lead her back the way he came. Her hand was warm in his, a confirmation that he was not alone. They arrived at Genji's quarters almost in silence, neither of them quite sure what to talk about. He opened the door and let her in first, flicking the light on as she went in, a white glow coming from behind the headboard of his bed. Most of the quarters in the base were incredibly similar, same beds, desks and shelves made out of a light wood, same spherical light on the wall, but everyone had their own touches that made it feel a bit more like home. Genji had a few photos stuck in a line next to his door, he was barely visible in most of them, but it was really for the sentiment of remembering fun times on missions and that one time a food fight broke out on Reinhardt's birthday. He had a snow globe that he bought from a mission in tokyo on his side table next to a small potted plant with purplish leaves that he often forgot to water. Angela gave him that plant when he first came to overwatch as a way of having something to care about through his blinded rage. She sat on the corner of his bed rather timidly before flopping backwards in a starfish stretch with a sigh of satisfaction.

"You okay?" came the soft buzz of Genji's voice after a while. He smirked slightly to her when she responded with a thumbs up. He walked into his small bathroom, flicking on the light. He recoiled slightly at the scratchy sound of his metal feet on the tiles. He still wasn't completely used to his new body, and he still couldn't bring himself to look in the mirror and he purposely kept facing the opposite wall as he began to run a bath. He found it quite amusing how redundant the majority of his bathroom was.

When he returned, she was still lying down on his bed, looking up at his ceiling, seemingly fixated on a single point. He joined her, flopping backwards with soft thud. He looked up as well, looking at the matt ceiling as his eyes focused and unfocused. His breathing caught in his throat as she turned to him, throwing an arm over his chest as she moved in close. He held her there, closing his eyes and taking a minute to appreciate the moment.

After a minute or two, the sound of the water rushing brought him back. "Oh I should check on the bath for you. Do you need anything while I'm up?" He spoke hesitantly as he slowly got back up.

"No I'm alright. Thank you though," she said as she sat up again. His bed was against the wall and next to a rather large window that she found herself staring out of. The base at night was quite quiet but never fully deserted. Even if there were no agents out at night, there would be the odd animal here or there. Right now she could see a bird perching on the top of one of the numerous airships. Angela turned around again when she heard the water stop and Genji return into the room.

"The bath is ready for you when you want it." He said, looking over at her with a smile before sitting down next to her once more. He didn't quite know what to do when she put her head on his shoulder, but his hand found it's way around her.

"Thank you Genji, it's incredibly kind of you to look after me..." She said in response as she lifted her head and made eye contact with him, " would you wash my hair for me?" She tilted her head slightly with the question, a small enough gesture but enough to make him smile and agree.

Genji kept his back turned while she undressed, it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before, but something about it seemed strange today. He sat on the floor next to the tub, leant against the wall, listening intently to Angela as she unintentionally began a ramble about everything she wanted to say and all of what was annoying her. He did as he was asked soon enough, knelt at the side of the tub and working his way through her hair, mildly pleased at the small satisfied sighs she made, glad that she was happy.

When she decided she was done, he retrieved her a change of clothes and a glass of water, leaving them in the bathroom for her patiently as he pulled out his desk chair, taking a seat and hugging the small cushion that was on it. He looked over at the door when it opened, the two of them exchanging smiles. The grey tshirt was quite baggy on her, and her hair was still a little wet, but to him, she still looked amazing. She wordlessly got into the bed, sighing happily when he joined her.

"I'm sorry I'm like this today." She began, cuddling in close to him.

"What's there to be sorry for? Everybody has off days. Some more than most, but you can't be a human without them" he responded, holding her and feeling every worry melt away.

"Hm. I'm glad I have you. I'm glad you're taking things easier than before. It hurt to see you in that much pain." She said quieter, looking up at him.

"Well, you taught me to care again," he looked at her, moving a strand of hair behind her ear, "you helped me recover. I'm not fully there yet, but, good company helps. and I definitely do have the best doctor in the business by my side."

That made her giggle a little, in turn making his chest flutter. She yawned a little bit as she positioned her head under his neck, gesturing towards the bedside light switch with the hand that was laid over his chest.

The two were in darkness, and the night had drawn to a close. They both felt for the first time in ages that they were able to rest peacefully.

#gency #overwatch #genji shimada #angela ziegler #fluffy

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storytimefromthecreed · 5 years ago

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Something Blue, Something Borrowed

(3)

“How is he?” Demetri asked, eyeing the door. Just on the other side, was the final member of their band. At the top of the clock tower, the Frenchmen were able to watch over the city. The velvety night gave the illusion of rest, and for a moment they could enjoy it. They could pretend things were like they were before.

“Things may not be as they were before,” Arno had said once, “but moving forward isn’t necessarily an ending.” Why he said that so soberly, none of them knew, but his words of wisdom echoed in their minds.

Returning presently, the men stood in various stages of distress. Phillip by the door, having just stepped outside from his patient. Demetri pacing the small length of the tower’s crumbled ledge, hands clasped behind his back being the only indication that he was his father’s son. Gerard standing completely still beside the point they leapt from, absorbing the conversation and all that had occurred that night.

Phillip confessed, choosing his words wisely. “I...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Demetri scoffed. The heat from his tone began to tint his cheeks, barely noticeable under his close-cut beard. The skin under his eyes were bruised, and his hair flopped out of its casual messy style to a slick, unkempt tussle. Evidence of sweaty hands palming it all evening. Perhaps even the evening before. “Aren’t you a doctor? What do you mean you don’t know?” Phillip took a step back, and Demetri clasped the bridge of his nose and concentrated on his breathing. When he spoke next, Demetri was kinder. “I apologies, mon ami. Given the circumstances...” Demetri caught himself and inhaled again. When he opened his eyes, he said, “Non. You’re going through the same as I. Putting my emotions before yours is not right. Je suis desole, Phillip.”

A moment passed before Phillip took Demetri’s forearm. “There’s nothing to forgive.” He said, pulling Demetri into a hug before pushing away and resting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re all worried.”

Demetri’s current burnt out state was reflected amongst the group. Phillip’s normally clean cheeks were beginning to darken from where his beard fighting through. Even sending Gerard home for rest and to be with his family wasn’t working as his eyes were unfocused and tired.

When they pulled apart, Gerard asked, “Phillip, what do you think?”

“Honestly?” Running a hand through his hair, the stress began to show on the youngest Frenchmen. “Observation is needed. I gave him more meds to sleep, but that’s not a long-term solution.” Explaining it as non-threatening as he could, Phillip continued, “Keeping him asleep doesn’t prove his innocence either. From the examinations, Arno has been getting fights. By the look of the wounds, he’s been doing this frequently with some wounds not healed yet.”

Gerard hissed, rubbing a hand over his face, and pulling down his mouth. “Why didn’t he tell us? Why didn’t he think he could come to us?”

“Given what happened last time he was with the Assassins? I don’t blame him.” Demetri countered, gesturing between the three of them. “We’ve not been in his position, so who are we to say how he should act?”

“He did also say he wanted nothing to do with the life.” Phillip added, voicing what they all knew.

Tension hung in the air, and Demetri cleared this with his throat. “The wounds. Anything to pin him to a certain fight? A location? Here’s what we learned…” As the men shared what they learned in the palace, worry began to set on Phillip’s brow as he nodded along.

“If he’s having, I’m not sure what to call it, an episode?” Phillip said softly, “Then it is important we figure out a way for him to have his best quality of life while protecting those around him. Or, if something is triggering it, how to find and control that trigger. Even then,” Phillip said solemnly, “I cannot guarantee that’s going to stop him.”

“So,” Gerard rose a brow. “You believe he’s responsible for....”

“The attacks?” Demetri finished. The feeling of lead settling in their stomachs.

Phillip looked to the sky, collecting himself before speaking. When he finally did, he looked between his friends, his brothers. “I know nothing of his paternal medical history. Who knows if this runs in his family or...”

Demetri hissed, Gerard growled, and Phillip leaned against the door. They stood there silently a moment before Demetri slapped his hand to his forehead. The sound startled the other men. “We have that meeting tonight.”

“Merde.” Gerard shook his head. Pierre Bellec, son of that Bellec had returned to the Brotherhood. Working tirelessly to undo his damage his father wrought and rid himself of his shame. Gerard didn’t mind the man, but it was the meeting he was dreading.

The meetings at the Bureau were slowly turning from their usual monthly events to weekly, and the pressure to mend France and keep the Templars at bay was difficult enough without a killer running around. Tempers were beginning to fray, and none felt the oncoming storm more than Gerard who, as the new leader of the Frenchmen, was under the ever-observing eyes of the Mentors. It wasn’t that his was the only group running around the land, of which there are dozens, but they were watched solely for what Phillip lovingly called the Dorian factor.

The Dorian factor was simply this, Arno had a way of making impressions. With his entrance to his removal from the Brotherhood, the Assassins kept a close eye on Arno to see what he would do next. The Mentors would’ve intervened when he made the decision to live as a civilian had Gerard, Demetri, and Phillip not insisted against. They ensured them their work would not be affected by keeping an eye on Arno, and that he would cause no problem for the Brotherhood.

That was a year ago.

Then, with the entrance of Pierre, the Assassins’ attentions were moved. Unfortunately for the Frenchmen, this was not a good thing. People loved Pierre. He had a way of speaking that assured one that he spoke from the heart. That his word was good and true. Phillip wanted to get to know him, Demetri disliked him, and Gerard hadn’t yet formed an opinion.

“The Mentors are going to make him join us.” Demetri straightened from his slump to stride to the door dramatically bang his forehead against it. “If that’s the case, give me the same medicine you gave Arno so I may sleep through the pain.”

Phillip rolled his eyes, a small smile pushing up the corners of his mouth. “They’re not going to make him join us. Pierre has enough on his plate. Training the novices, working with the Masters-”

“Have you been speaking with him?” Demetri squinted over his shoulder.

Catching himself, Phillip’s jaw dropped, and his eyes went wide. The trio waited a moment, and Demetri’s gaze intensified. Finally, Phillip put his hands up, gave a sheepish smile, and took a step back. “Now Demetri-”

“Are you serious?!” Demetri leapt forward, and Gerard got between them with barely a second to spare.

“Enough.” Gerard said, but Demetri was too angry and he struggled to hold him back.

“Am I the only one who’s not given up on him yet?” He looked between the men he called his friends. “Am I the only one who remembers everything he went through? This looks bad, I know, but I’m giving Arno the benefit of the doubt! There’s no way in hell Pierre is joining! I’d rather work nights by myself in the southern perimeter than let that scum-”

“Hey! I’m not saying that.” Phillip made a step, but Gerard silenced him with a look.

Turning around, he shoved Demetri back. “Enough? Huh? Had enough, tough guy?” Every time Demetri took a step, Gerard pushed back until he finally gave up and glared at the man. Gerard, unbothered by the sharp grey steel piercing up at him, stood firm. “Demetri, you’ve been awake for two days.” Demetri’s eyes cut to Phillip, but Gerard cocked his head to the side to catch the look. “Do you understand me?” Gerard asked, moving to cover Phillip, and steeling his voice. “Go home. Go to sleep. Check on your plants, check on the cats, sleep for at least 7 hours, and then come back.” Gerard looked over his shoulder and glared at Phillip. “Stay with Arno until he wakes up. Understood?”

“What about the meeting?” Phillip began, but Gerard cut him off with a look. “Oui, Monsieur.”

Demetri threw Gerard’s hands off him and turned the way they’d came. Wind whipped his green coat behind him like a pair of wings. “I’ll sleep after the meeting.” Before Gerard could reply, he dropped. Giving Phillip one last stern look, Gerard followed Greencoat.

Steps echoing off the cobblestone, the pair hurried into the Bureau. Arriving just in time, it seemed, as the meeting had just begun. “Thank you for your patience.” Gerard began, stepping into the center of the room. Staring up at the Mentors peering down at him, Gerard, who stood at 1.8m, the tallest of the Frenchmen, looked very small. Demetri remained on the sideline. His arms crossed and hackles raised, ready to interject if the need arose.

“We understand you’ve been short staffed as of late.” Victoria began, shifting through papers. Gerard kept his face composed, but Demetri grit his teeth. It seemed this meeting would be straight to the jugular then.

Squaring his shoulders back, Gerard nodded. “We have. Greencoat, La Phantome, and I have been patrolling the city since the incidents occurred, and we believe-”

“Believe?” Marcos pffted. Leaning in, his eyes darkened. “What have you to show for it?”

“We found-”

“And where’s Arno?” Edmond asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yes. Where is Monsieur Dorian, Axeman?” Victoria repeated, “I find it rather strange that an Assassin in blue is committing these crimes and no one has had eyes on Monsieur Dorian.”

“We have.” Gerard rose his voice, and then quickly lowered it. Remembering his place, he repeated, “We have, Mentor. Arno is working at his cafe full time. He’s hung up his robes. We know this for certain.”

“I think we need more information.” Edmond countered, looking at the other Masters and dismissing Axeman altogether. “Considering the only people to see Dorian are his friends.”

Demetri shifted to join Gerard but a shadow to his left beat him to it. “Mentors, please.” A crisp, melodic voice interjected. “I mean no disrespect.” He rose his voice and cleared the distance in three strides. Bright blue eyes caught each of the Mentors’ eyes, and they frowned. But listened. The Assassins on the sidelines whispered comments to one another. Pierre waited until silence had fallen before speaking again. “This is a trying time for us all, and we’re all doing our best. Axeman and his group have done more good in this time than what is uncounted for. We didn’t gather here to bring out our frustrations on one another, but to work on bettering France together. Correct?” Allowing the weight of his words to settle, Pierre brought himself upright. “If anyone is to blame for the mistrust among our Brotherhood, it’s me and my blood.” Whispers resounded along the crowd, but Pierre ignored these and spoke only to the Mentors. Even Demetri and Axeman found themselves entranced. “Had my father not spilled blood between Assassins, not killed another Mentor, we would be more trusting of one another. It is because of these things,” Pierre stood tall. “I will find this killer. Alone. No one need to bare the shame of the Brotherhood than I. Though I doubt this person is an Assassin since we would never stoop so low as to murder innocents. I volunteer to find this killer. Along with my duties here, of course.”

As his speech settled, Demetri blinked. He hadn’t been aware he’d been holding his breath. His jaw ached from the stress he held in it. The Mentors spoke lowly to one another, causing the rest of the Assassins to lean in. Finally, they broke apart and Victoria spoke. “So be it. Pierre Bellec, you’re leading charge against this killer.” Pierre smiled, and Gerard and Demetri relaxed. They’d still be able to walk out with their hides. “But not alone.” Their smiles dropped. Victoria’s eyes landed on Gerard. “Axeman, since you’re in need, Pierre will be aiding you in your patrols and you’ll be aiding him with finding this killer.”

“And,” Edmond interjecting, scowling as always. “Bring Arno Dorian to us. Immediately.”

“Of course.” Gerard bowed his head and the Mentors excused them. They were bringing about the next meeting when Gerard exited the center. Striding past Demetri, making Demetri jog to catch up, Gerard heading out for some air.

Once outside, he groaned. “Greencoat, what the hell just happened?”

“You did well, Axeman. Better than I or Ghost could have done, and certainly better than any of those inside.” Demetri assured them. The sound of running footsteps made them turn, and they found Pierre staring between them.

“Apologies, Monsieurs Axeman et Greencoat.”

Gerard waved him in. “Peace, Pierre. Axeman and Greencoat are fine, merci.” Pierre walked towards them with a smile, and Demetri crossed his arms and looked to the stars. They were holding strong, but the soft pinks of morning would banish them soon.

“I wanted you to know that I had no intention for that meeting to end how it did. I am so sorry.” Pierre began and Gerard gripped the bridge of his nose. Pierre rubbed the back of his neck and shyly looked to his shoes. “Listen, the Mentors don’t need to know we’re not working together. I don’t mind helping you with your patrols, if you’ll have me, but you don’t have to help me with the Blue Killer.”

“Blue Killer?” Demetri snapped his neck towards the man, and took him in. A mop of black hair under which sat blue eyes, a straight nose, and a charming smile. Demetri rolled his eyes. “You named it?”

“Well, the ‘Killer Running Around France’ doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?” Shrinking under Demetri’s glare, to Demetri’s joy, Pierre looked desperately at Gerard. “Sorry, Axeman, Greencoat. I didn’t mean to offend.”

Before Demetri could open his mouth to respond, Gerard answered. “You haven’t. Greencoat was about to go get some rest and I could use an extra pair of eyes.”

“Really?” Pierre’s eyes shone bright, and Gerard nodded. “I...I won’t let you down, Axeman.”

“I’m sure you won’t. We’re going to begin at the river and work our way in. Together, at first. I’d like you to get used to our route before going off on your own.” Gerard explained before looking at Demetri. “Bonne nuit, Greencoat.”

“Bonne journee, Axeman.” Demetri turned on his heel and leapt from the roof.

But he didn’t go home. He couldn’t. Bothered in his thoughts, Demetri went to the one person he knew would help.

“So,” Phillip asked as Arno slept silently between them. “What was it like?”

Demetri munched on the croissant he’d borrowed from Arno’s cafe. In his defense, Arno had told them they were welcome to anything! Besides, the people at the Café knew him. “He wears Italian shoes.” Phillip choked on the tea he’d sipped. “I can’t believe Gerard actually took him on. Can you believe that?” Phillip was coughing, sputtering a reply. “I mean, can you?” Demetri pressed.

Thumping on his chest, tears welling in his eyes, Phillip croaked. “Well, I can.” Demetri gasped, and opened his hands in protest. Phillip placed a croissant in Demetri’s open hand and continued. “We’re down one man, people are dying, and I don’t mind the extra help.” Phillip shrugged, looking over at Arno’s body. “Did they mention anything else?”

“Bringing Arno to them.” Demetri dismissed it with a wave of his hand before Phillip could panic. “Gerard will figure it out. Not telling them we had him was a good start, and keeping Arno in hiding would be the best route.” A moment of silence passed as both men finished their snack. When he gulped down the rest of his croissant, Demetri said, “When you said you were watching over him, did we really need to do this?” Demetri dusted flakes of bread from Arno’s stomach.

“If his lips go blue that means he’s stopped breathing, and I want to make sure I’m here if that happens.” Phillip sipped his tea.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a little paranoid?”

Phillip thought a moment, taking another sip. “Non. Why?” His eyes flickered to his friend, and he gave him a small smirk. “Has anyone said anything?”

Groaning, Demetri rolled his eyes and leaned back. Raising his feet to prop them on the table, as he usually did, Demetri stopped himself and frowned upon finding Arno’s legs there. Settling on leaning back, he crossed his arms tight to his chest. “I’m sorry about how I was acting earlier. I lost my temper, and that wasn’t right, Phillip. Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Phillip commented, “Just wish I had your conviction.”

They both cast their stares to the gentle rise and fall of their comrade’s chest. “You really think he did it?” Demetri whispered, like speaking the words aloud would make them real.

“That’s what the evidence is saying.”

“Et toi?”

“I have to follow the evidence.” Phillip said firmly, “I don’t have to luxury to listen to my heart.” Looking up at Demetri, he said, “Do me a favor? Listen to yours for the both of us.” Demetri nodded.

The two friends chatted until Demetri was sound asleep, head tucked into his chest. Phillip, left alone with two of his unconscious friends, took out a book and pondered how his life had turned out this way. Hours passed and Phillip began contemplating if he too should rest when Gerard dusted his heavy boots on their welcome mat.

It wasn’t a real mat, just a thing Phillip had brought from his house to liven the place up. It was accompanied by the pots and pans Gerard had brought, the shelf Arno had helped Phillip build to hold all his books, and the plants Demetri had placed to add the wilted one Phillip had been neglecting. Good intentions strung together with glue and gum, Arno had called it.

“Bon soiree, mes amis.” Gerard voiced, keeping his head down to ensure all the dust was gone before stepping into the room. Automatically staring at Arno, his brows furrowed and he grimaced. “Comment ca va?”

“Ca va, bien, merci. Et toi?” Phillip set aside the book, and got up from his spot. Stretching as he did so, he enjoyed the pop along his spine.

“Ca va.” Gerard replied honestly. Taking a look at Demetri, who was rubbing his eyes and giving his cheeks mild pats to wake up, Gerard smiled bemused. “You should take more rest, Demetri. When was the last time you’ve slept?”

“Just now.” He replied, rolling to the balls of his feet and began doing little hops. Shaking the sleep from himself, Demetri cracked his neck, to Phillip’s disgust, and began warming up his wrists. “Where to first?”

“You should rest.” Gerard continued, “Don’t make me make that an order.”

Before Demetri could respond, a groaning from the table interrupted them. Phillip dashed across the room just as Arno’s hand went to his forehead and his eyes fluttered. Gerard and Demetri were right behind. Keeping some distance, Phillip took his friend’s free hand and gave him a squeeze. “I know this must be very scary, Arno, so please take your time. You’re in the clock tower. Demetri and Gerard are here with us. You got hurt but you’re better now.” Arno’s eyes opened, but wouldn’t fixate. Phillip smiled, “There you go. Don’t try to remember it all at once, just take in your surroundings. Tell me what you’re seeing, what you’re feeling.”

“I-“ Arno blinked, widening his eyes a moment before groaning and closing them. “I feel sick. Like my head is pounding and my stomach is doing flips.” As his fingers massaging his temples, everyone waited with bated breath. “I’m dizzy. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Before Phillip could ask, Demetri rushed to grab a pail. Phillip squeezed Arno’s hand again and said, “That’s ok, it’s a normal feeling. Just take your time.” Then he looked at Gerard and asked, “Can you make some broth and get some bread? We’re going to have to introduce food slowly.” Nodding once, Gerard disappeared to their makeshift kitchen.

“I don’t…” Arno groaned, attempting to sit up. Without Phillip’s assistance, he would’ve smacked back down on the table. “I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Keeping one hand secured on his back and the other gripping his forearm, Phillip helped him up slowly. “No trouble at all, I promise you.”

Arno scoffed, and closed his eyes again. They stayed like that a moment, listening to Gerard in the kitchen and hearing Demetri clamber back with the pail. Rubbing Arno’s shoulder, Demetri moved to sit beside Phillip. Arno’s hand went from Phillip’s to Demetri. His eyes still closed, he gripped tight. “I don’t deserve friends like you.”

Demetri gave him a sad smile and a firm hold. “You’d do the same for us, Arno, don’t deny it.”

Again, Arno scoffed, but finally he opened his eyes and locked them on Demetri’s greys. “I need you to do something for me.”

Concern etching across his face, Demetri got down to Arno’s level and held his hand. “Anything, mon ami. Just name it.”

Tears rimmed Arno’s eyes and he nodded. “I’m sorry, Demetri, to ask this of you, but I could trust no one better.”

Phillip shifted uncomfortably. “Arno, maybe you should rest.” He cautioned, but Arno held Demetri fast.

Arno pressed, holding Demetri hostage, his frown deepening. “If I do anything, anything that raises a suspicion you, you need to kill me.”

Revolted and recoiling, Demetri pulled away, aghast. “Arno! How could you ask-?”

“I remember.” Arno’s voice quivered, a lone tearing rolling down his cheek. Wiping it away with one hand, the other still holding Phillip’s, Arno looked between the two of them. “I remember what I was doing when I was asleep.”

“Arno.” Phillip tried again, but Arno looked down at his chest and began to cry.

“I remember those people dying, I remember feeling their blood on my hands, and I…I think I’m the killer.”

“Arno, you’re…you’re not well.” Demetri fussed, hands hovering over Arno’s shoulders and Arno doubled over and wept. He cast frightened glances at Phillip and found the youngest Frenchmen had grown stoic and composed. “Phillip is going to fix this, aren’t you?” Demetri looked up desperately, but Phillip was rubbing Arno’s back and reaching for the medicine. “Aren’t you?”

“Arno,” Phillip said softly. “What are you talking about?”

“I..I was there.” Arno sobbed, staring at his hands like he could still see the blood on them. Still feel the warmth stick his fingers together. “I was…”

“Arno, Demetri is right. It’s been a long few days’ for all of us.”

“You don’t understand!” Arno wept anew, bringing his knees to his chest and draping his arms around them to cradle himself. “Those were my missions.”

“Missions?” Demetri looked up at Phillip and he shrugged. “Arno, what do you-?”

“I was there!” Arno roared, looking so quickly and grabbing Demetri so forcefully that his thighs slammed into the table.

“You weren’t!” Demetri yelled back, tears blurring his version. Not that it mattered. He didn’t recognize the man before him. “Arno!” Arno slammed Demetri against the table again, and Demetri waved away Phillip’s attempts to help. “We checked your logs! You were-”

There were missions they hadn’t known of when Arno left the Brotherhood. They’d checked all the places he’d run, as a gesture of good will with the Mentors, but they hadn’t given thought to the ones he’d done with…

Just as Arno made move to harm Demetri again, Phillip popped the medicine in his mouth and shut it. Before he could fight, his eyes fluttered.

“Elise…” He breathed, and Phillip caught him. The pair lowered him to the table. A wooden bowl clattered to the ground, spilling broth everywhere.

#Something Blue Something Borrowed #the frenchmen four #The Baguetter boyband #arno victor dorian #arno dorian #gerard #axeman #greencoat #demetri #phillip #ghost

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wistfulcynic · 6 years ago

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Operation Emma’s Christmas

Merry Christmas to @kitsunewingstar! If I calculated correctly this should post in the afternoon of Christmas Eve for you, (very) early in the morning of Christmas Eve here in the UK/Europe, and Christmas Eve Eve in the US. It’s been lovely chatting with you and I hope you have a wonderful holiday with your family!

You requested something sweet and Christmassy, so I hope this delivers! For the purposes of the story, we’re assuming there was no Christmas under the curse (since we never saw/heard about it on the show) and that S7 and its timeline is not a thing.

Thanks to the @cssecretsanta2k19 for organising this event!!

SUMMARY: What with curses and monsters and trips to Camelot, and a distinct lack of quiet moments, the residents of Storybrooke have never really celebrated Christmas. Now that he has a child and a wife who misses the holiday, Killian is determined to change that.

He just has to figure out how.

(Set post-S6 in a world with no S7)

Tagging all the folks from the last tag list, PLEASE do let me know if you want to be added or removed. @kmomof4 @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @darkcolinodonorgasm @snowbellewells @stahlop @mariakov81 @courtorderedcake @jonirobinson64 @tiganasummertree @ohmightydevviepuu @shardminds @jennjenn615 @superchocovian @teamhook

On AO3

Operation Emma’s Christmas:

Killian Jones has been alive a very long time, and seen many strange and wondrous things. But none of them, from the spice markets of Agrabah to the snow-covered mountains of Arendelle to the hold of the Jolly Roger when it’s brimming with loot can, in his opinion, top the astounding treasure that is Google. He is awestruck by the notion of being able to ask any question he likes and having the answer appear within seconds. Emma tries to explain how anyone can put stuff on the internet and he can’t believe everything he reads, but he brushes her off. He knows how to separate fact from opinion and how to identify a reliable source, he tells her patiently. Among the many things they teach you in the Royal Navy.

With the aid of the oracle Google, Killian learns all about this extraordinary realm he now calls home, enough so that he no longer finds himself adrift on a foggy sea when Emma and Henry make references to things he’s never heard of. He finds lists of movies he should watch and books he should read and the most influential songs of the 20th century, and he sets about watching and reading and listening to each one, with all the studious dedication of the keen young lieutenant he used to be, oh so many years ago now.

“It’s kind of a shame we don’t do Christmas in Storybrooke,” says Emma wistfully one afternoon in mid-December, as they sit on the floor with their backs resting against the sofa watching Hope crawl around the living room. “Now that we have a kid. I mean, I had Henry before and we did Christmas in New York and in our fake memories, but… it’d be nice to do it here.”

Killian is already on his phone consulting the oracle on the subject of Christmas. An annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, observed primarily on December 25 as a religious and cultural celebration among billions of people around the world, he reads. He clicks on Images and scrolls through brightly decorated evergreen trees, houses draped in twinkling lights, giant-sized stockings hung above fireplaces and a very fat bearded man dressed in red. He makes a mental note to do more research when he gets back to the station and in the meantime looks up at where Emma and Hope are now playing patty cake.

“Why can’t we?” he asks.

“Why can’t we what?”

“Celebrate Christmas?”

“Oh. I don’t know, I guess we’ve just never done it in Storybrooke.” Emma pauses, laughing as Hope leans in to pat her cheeks. “Because of the curse, I suppose.”

“But knowledge of it is presumably part of this curse download that your family and all the residents who were brought here by Regina had, correct?”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, that surely means that they would wish to begin a new tradition, one that includes this festival?” he presses.

“Oh, I don’t know, Killian.” Hope crawls into Emma’s lap and she cuddles the baby close. “I don’t want to make a big deal about it. It doesn’t matter.”

But if there’s one thing Killian doesn’t require Google’s assistance to understand, it’s his wife. This Christmas business is clearly very important to her, and he intends to see that she gets the finest celebration of it that he has in his power to provide.

—

Killian’s first step in Operation Emma’s Christmas is to enlist the aid of Henry and David. The prince to help him procure all the materials he needs, the lad to come up with a name better than “Operation Emma’s Christmas.”

David comes through like the noble royal and loving father (in-law) that he is, but Henry, to Killian’s great chagrin, loves Operation Emma’s Christmas. “Straight and to the point,” he says. “Perfect.”

Killian sighs, frowning at the back seat of David’s truck where his stepson sits typing something on his phone. The lad is so much more prosaic now that he’s discovered girls, he thinks, when really the opposite should be true.

“Are you sure you can’t come up with something better?” he grumbles.

“Nope.” Henry doesn’t even look up from his screen. Killian sighs again.

“Don’t worry, Hook,” says David. “The operation will be a success, the name doesn’t matter. Actually, I’m really glad you thought of it. I’ve been intending to get a Christmas tradition going around here since Neal was born, but what with one thing and another—”

“Never a quiet moment,” says Killian. “Aye.”

“Well, we’ve got one now and we’re gonna make the most of it,” says David, pulling the truck over to the side of the road. The three of them get out and Killian catches his breath at the sight before him. They are standing above a wide, snowy valley, extending as far as the eye can see, liberally dotted with lush green fir trees.

“Take your pick,” says David with a grin, pulling a large saw from the back of the truck.

“Lad, I’m going to need your help for this,” says Killian.

“Oh yeah,” says Henry.

—

Once the trees are procured, their next stop is Regina’s house. She doesn’t look particularly pleased to see them, even less so when they explain their mission.

“Christmas decorations?” she says in that scathing tone that still gets Killian’s hackles up, even though they’re technically friends now.

“Yep,” says David, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her what Emma calls his ‘stern Dad’ look. “I have to assume that we never had Christmas in Storybrooke because you didn’t allow it under the curse. Am I wrong?”

“No.” Regina has the grace to look abashed. “You’re not wrong.”

“Well then. Don’t you think it’s time you rectified that?”

“So you want me to what, just magic up some ornaments so you can decorate a tree for Emma?”

“And for David and Snow,” says Killian. “And anyone else who wants one. I mean, decorations for the whole town would be best, but if that’s beyond your scope…”

Regina sneers. “Let’s start with yours and Emma’s,” she says.

—

Snow White is well known for her inability to keep a secret, and so they elect not to bring her in on Operation Emma’s Christmas. Instead Henry is tasked with distracting both her and his mother while ornaments are hung and lights strung at the respective Jones and Nolan households. David and Killian requisition walkie-talkies from the station and have far too much fun strategising and organising their decorating battle plans while Hope gurgles and Neal babbles mostly coherently in the background.

It takes perhaps longer than it should, neither of them having any actual experience to draw on and needing to consult the oracle frequently, but in due course everything is ready and Killian sends Henry a text with the all-clear.

He fidgets as he waits for Emma to return, fussing nervously with Hope’s tiny Santa hat as she gums at the pacifier stuck on the end of his hook—a red one for Christmas. He double-checks that all the lights are on and the ornaments hung just so, and all the parcels are stacked in a pleasing way beneath the tree. When he hears her at the door he snatches up the baby and positions them both in front of it all.

“Killian, I’m—what the—” Emma’s face is a picture as she takes in the sight before her. The huge tree that Henry selected fills nearly half the room, and is covered in shiny red and green ornaments and sparkly lights, with a bright silver star at the top. Beneath it piles of presents sit wrapped in glossy paper and festooned with ribbon bows, and lined up along the mantelpiece are four huge stockings labelled Hope, Henry, Emma, and Killian. The effect, Killian hopes, is festive in the extreme, merry and jolly and everything Emma missed out on when she was growing up.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he says.

Emma turns in a slow circle, eyes wide and mouth agape. “But it’s—it’s only the 20th!” she says.

“Aye, rather late. Google informs me that some people decorate their homes as early as the first of November. But we still have time to enjoy it, apparently the custom in many households is to leave the lights up until the sixth of Jan—oof!” He exhales sharply as Emma throws herself at him, one arm wrapping around his neck and the other cradling Hope’s head as she kisses him.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she says, peppering his face with kisses. Hope gurgles indignantly and Emma kisses her as well.

“Henry and your father helped. And Regina, as a matter of fact.”

“But I bet it was your idea, wasn’t it?” She gives him a knowing look.

“Aye, I confess it was.”

“Because I mentioned in passing that it’s a shame we don’t do Christmas in Storybrooke?”

“It was the way you mentioned it.”

“The way I mentioned it,” she echoes.

He nods. “Aye. I sensed it was something you missed out on in your youth, and that you wanted Hope to have the experiences you lacked.”

Emma brushes her fingertips across his cheek, a soft smile on her face. “You sensed all that from me saying it might be nice to have Christmas here?”

He grins and pulls her closer, shifting Hope so she is snuggled between them. “How many times must I tell you, my love, that you are an open book to me?”

She returns the grin, letting her forehead rest against his. “At least once more, I guess.”

“As always.”

#cssecretsanta2k19 #kitsunewingstar #profdanglaisstuff #operation emma's christmas #cs fic #cs ff #canon compliant #sort of #future fic #christmas fic #captain swan #captain cobra #captain charming #cs family fluff #sweet and fluffy #and christmassy

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 5 years ago

Text

Episode 36 Review: The Séance

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 | 3 }

{ Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

Welcome back to my Garden of Evil and thank you for patiently waiting for me to return to reviewing Strange Paradise. It’s been a wild and chaotic past few weeks and I’ve just gotten around to returning to the course of events on Maljardin. And Great Serpent, this time we have one hell of a wild episode!

Because I already miss the bad puns in the earlier episodes.

Of all the episodes of this show, this one is my #1 favorite. It embodies everything I love about Maljardin-era SP: it stars Colin Fox as both Jean Paul and Jacques, features some delightful Jacques scenes, and is genuinely suspenseful and scary. There are also unintentional laughs as usual, but somehow none of them detract from the frightening moments. If I had to introduce SP to someone who had never seen it before (say, my mom, who only knows a little about it), I would use this episode, not the pilot which (IMO) is less scary and far more ridiculous. The magic of Ian Martin’s SP is on full display here. Although he doesn’t leave the show immediately after this episode, it feels like a last hurrah, and a spectacular one at that. You know you want to read about this episode, so what are you waiting for?

We open with Vangie napping on the couch shortly after the events of the previous episode. Over her, Jean Paul and Alison are arguing about whether to go through with the séance to contact Erica. Alison begs him not to because of the risk of death, but Jean Paul insists on pushing through with it anyway because, as Raxl recaps, “The Conjure Woman didn’t see her death, only [Jacques’].” Jean Paul interprets this as meaning that he himself might die, but it’s not clear if he truly believes this or if he’s trying to cover up his frequent possession by the handsome devil.

Vangie recovers and announces that she plans on going through with it, no matter what happens. Still angry from last episode, Matt protests and Jean Paul gives him this nasty smirk that reeks of passive aggression:

Either that, or Colin is trying hard not to laugh. I can’t tell.

“This is not your concern, Reverend,” Jean Paul spits, and Vangie agrees with him. Although she knows that she will one day die on the Island of Evil, she feels that the séance is her duty as the Conjure Woman.

Matt once again reveals his status as the Fool (or, rather, le Mat) when he remarks that Jean Paul and Jacques are indistinguishable “except by [their] manner of dress.” Evidently, he hasn’t considered the possibility that THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES can possess Jean Paul and thus wear the exact same clothes as him. In fact, Padre, he’s worn that same extremely flattering blue suit before when talking to you, and you don’t even know it.

Jean Paul orders Vangie to begin the séance and we get a lovely overhead shot of the glass-top table. I’ve already posted high-quality photos of the table, but I love it so much that the laws of obsessive fandom require me to post it again:

Oh, how I love that table and those chairs. Actually, I love the whole Maljardin set.

Jean Paul volunteers to help Vangie, Raxl, and Quito set up, which seems to surprise them because otherwise he spends no time cleaning up after himself and all his time brooding, throwing glasses at priceless artifacts, and--of course--getting possessed. Elizabeth and Holly see them setting up, and the former heads down the stairs to watch.

Elizabeth is wearing this fabulous ensemble with a checkered dress and a red scarf pinned with a brooch in the shape of a dahlia. It most likely came from her actress Paisley Maxwell’s own wardrobe, as she mostly wore her own clothes on the show and even provided some costumes for the other actresses. (LINK CONTAINS SPOILERS THROUGH THE END OF MALJARDIN)

A shot with a better view of her brooch.

Vangie tells Jean Paul that the room needs to be dark, and that the only light in the room during the ceremony should be candlelight. Cue Jean Paul glancing up to the chandelier precariously suspended directly over the glass-top table:

If this isn’t painfully obvious foreshadowing, then I don't know what is.

The chandelier even sways ever so slightly as he stares at it!

Holly asks if she, her mother, Dan, and Tim can attend, and Vangie tells them no! According to her, they are all “disruptive influences” who will derail the séance, which will likely be too frightening for her anyway. Jean Paul tells Elizabeth to go, too, which she takes as a personal attack because Jacques has tricked her into believing that he’s in love with her.

LMAO

They are almost ready to begin the ceremony, but first, we need more blatant foreshadowing! We need Jean Paul to glance up at the swaying chandelier again, apparently without thinking of the slight chance that it might fall and cause an accident:

Seriously, Jean Paul? You have an IQ of 187. You should know better.

This is some heavy-handed foreshadowing, even for a show that constantly reminds us that Jacques Eloi des Mondes is THE DEVIL and cuts to close-ups of him every other time THE DEVIL is mentioned. I think you can guess what will happen about halfway through this episode. I normally try to avoid spoilers and to warn about any that I include or link to, but let’s face it. You know that chandelier is going to come crashing down at some point in the episode, because of all the emphasis that the script and the cinematography have already put on it. It’s a foregone conclusion. And I’m sorry, but Jean Paul with his alleged super-genius IQ has no excuse. Move the table! Have Quito tighten the chain! Replace the chandelier with a single candle or small candelabrum on the table! Do something to lower the chances of the accident that we all know is coming!

Vangie begins the séance to contact Erica.

After commercial break (hence the lack of the Drive-In Classics logo), the séance begins. We have Jean Paul, Vangie, Raxl, and Quito, plus Alison and Matt and an empty chair for Erica’s spirit. It’s a marvelous scene with just the right amount of eerie atmosphere, which Vangie’s hypnotic voice only enhances. They bridge the divide between the worlds of the living and the dead and all seems like it will succeed, but then

The third one is my favorite.

Jean Paul contorts his face again as he tries to resist Jacques’ possession of him, but ultimately his efforts are in vain:

Jacques’ beringed hand attacking Jean Paul. This also means that the chain created when the séance participants joined hands has been broken.

Matt asks Jean Paul what’s wrong and Jacques answers. “Everything is under control now,” he whispers with evil relish.

“No! Not now! NOT NOW!” Vangie screams, and then comes the inevitable:

Well, there goes one of Jean Paul’s astrological sign tables. Good thing he has another in storage.

I’m not going to lie: the first time I watched this scene, I shouted “No!” when the chandelier fell, even though I could see it coming. Somehow, despite the foregone conclusion and Jean Paul’s ridiculous headache faces, the scene creates enough suspense and horror to be effective. Plus, if you’re like me, you care about Vangie and don’t want to see anyone hurt her, even if that someone is 6′4″ with amazing cheekbones, a devilishly sexy smile, and the most beautiful hands on any man living or dead.

The power also goes out at the same time, and the handsome devil denies all responsibility for it despite his history of screwing with the electricity:

Classic Jacques sarcasm.

Conveniently, the lights come back on a moment later. They come just in time for Alison and Matt to tend to Vangie, whom the chandelier has knocked unconscious:

You can tell her injury is serious even before her close-up, because the Reverend is in shirtsleeves.

A close-up, showing the blood on Vangie’s forehead.

Jacques tells Holly that there was nothing seriously wrong with the electricity, and Dan flips out on him, insisting that “one day you’re going to blow us all up.” (Does he suspect that Jean Paul is somehow playing with the lights?) Jacques insists that even he can’t afford to buy a nuclear weapon. The fact that he knows what a nuclear weapon is serves as yet more evidence that he’s really the Devil and not a ghost from the 17th century (although, if he were a ghost, perhaps he would have overheard Jean Paul talking about nuclear weapons before).

I think that this is one of maybe two times that I ever envied Holly.

Vangie stands up, but doesn’t say a word to any of the characters, just stares blankly ahead of her. She doesn’t even react when Alison slaps her. Jacques cruelly snaps his fingers in front of her, which Alison demands he not do because it might cause her to be “destroyed, locked into a world of darkness, less living than dead.” She adds that “[she] can’t help but thinking that what happened to her is so like [Quito],” and turns to face the zombie who is watching the now cataleptic Conjure Woman, horrified:

It makes you wonder what sort of traumatic memories from Quito’s human life the sight of Jacques turning Vangie into a zombie evoked. Also, we never learn who turned Quito into a zombie in the show canon, but this scene shows that Jacques knows how and is therefore a possible candidate.

This is yet another point where the plot of the aired episodes differs from the original story as indicated in the Lost Episode summaries. In the original Episode 36, Vangie would have revealed Jacques’ possession of Jean Paul to all the participants at the séance, thus confirming for Raxl that Jean Paul is two different men. I suspect that Matt would refuse to believe it because of his lack of belief in devils and Dan because it sounds irrational and like a cover-up for Jean Paul’s alleged crimes, but Raxl, Vangie, and possibly Alison would have the evidence they needed.

Anyway, Jacques and most of the others leave Quito to clean up the mess while they have some drinks in the dining room. Mostly, it’s Jacques trying to pressure everyone into drinking while trying to gaslight them into believing that there was a storm outside even though there wasn’t. They’re not buying it, least of all Dan, who now has yet another reason to be suspicious of him.

I should also add that Part 3 of the YouTube version of this episode (which contains this scene) is out of sync, meaning that most of the subtitles are combined with the wrong shots and the wrong characters. Sadly, we don’t get anything on the level of “NO NO NO YES YES YES,” but the out-of-sync audio does make Dan’s accusation almost look like Jacques is confessing to making the chandelier fall:

YES YES YES

He offers brandy to both Matt and Holly, but Matt tells him not to give it to either of them, so Jacques brings the glasses he just filled over to Elizabeth instead. He starts talking about how no one was hurt, meaning that she has to remind him that Vangie was injured. Still, “she wasn’t really seriously injured,” so I guess for him it doesn’t count. He sends her away and starts to drink, which I guess lets Jean Paul recover his body because he de-possesses him, finally letting Jean Paul see the mess he left behind.

I already posted a lot of headache faces in this entry, so here I’m just going to include my favorite from this scene.

For a moment, Jean Paul looks like he’s going to cry, but his sadness turns to shock when Quito shows him the writing box. The wooden box which previously only held sand, now bears a message written in grains of rice in the shape of the symbol of the Great Serpent. Quito appears terrified by the message, but sadly he can’t translate it for Jean Paul. Raxl, too, freaks out when she sees it and says it’s “from the Conjure Man, but he needs the Conjure Woman to translate it and she’s still in a trance!”

Apparently, the Conjure Man communicates in grains of rice.

Although she can’t translate the whole message, she can tell Jean Paul, “It tells of more accidents. Spirits are very angry...with you!”

This final scene, like the scene with the crashing chandelier, is genuinely chilling, resulting in one of the scariest episodes of the Maljardin arc. This is one of SP’s finest episodes and certainly one of Ian Martin’s finest from his nine-week period as headwriter. I’m not certain what led the producers to decide to have Vangie enter a trance instead of revealing Jacques’ possession to the other characters, but most likely it was to increase the suspense and the terror. Also, I’m starting to wonder if perhaps Quito isn’t actually undead, but instead is an immortal like Raxl (and Vangie?), but stuck in a magically-induced trance. Perhaps when he recoiled in fear over Vangie’s transformation, it was because Jacques (or perhaps the Conjure Man) did the same exact thing to him three centuries ago.

Coming up next: Jacques continues to meddle in affairs on Maljardin while Raxl struggles to interpret the writing box. (But before then--hopefully--the next part of my review of Shadow Over Seventh Heaven.)

{<- Previous: Episode 35 || Next: Episode 37 ->}

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tiaragqueen · 6 years ago

Note

Hii. i’ve had this in mind so how about Garou coming back home from a rough day of hero hunting and forcing reader to patch him up? Like, I guess he’d expect that from his darling and he kinda craves that too. In a way to feel her affection, if it can be said as that. Probably ending with a passionate kiss from Garou at the end 7u7. thanks!!!! and lots of love!!

At Ease

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Garou x Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,6k

✂ Trigger Warning: Injuries, possessive behavior, yandere theme

[Edited]

***

Fluff isn’t exactly my forte, so I apologize if I messed it up in any way.

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“For you, I will get violent. In the end, the strong will earn the beauty.” - Growl [EXO]

“You need to stop coming like this.”

The neutrality of your face was at odds with the slight exasperation that sounded almost palpable for his sharp hearing. You stood in the threshold of your house, immobile despite the harsh glare you received. Garou stood stiff as you examined every bruises and scratch that littered his muscular body, arms crossed over your chest. And when you huffed, he knew he had messed up.

Just like he always did in the past week.

His injuries weren’t that major compared to the second visit, yet still required immediate assistance nonetheless. When he first ignored his condition, he’d ended up in a very high fever for the three days straight. You weren’t pleased when you found him cuddling on your bed after school, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. As much as you worried constantly about him, you were beginning to get irritated over his lack of self-care. Or, rather, blatant disregard.

And Garou was aware of that too. Well, it was hard to ignore it, anyway. Not when you kept frowning around him to the point faint marks were marring your forehead, and how you kept sighing when he dismissed your lectures about the danger of forcing oneself to their limits. He knew you were upset – you had every right to be – but he figured that you should’ve gotten accustomed to it. Dating him meant that you had accepted him for who he was; his flaws and all. Therefore, you needed to accept that he wasn’t going to quit fighting those pesky heroes anytime soon just because you wanted him to. Not only it would disrupt his plan of a better world, but it was also plain impossible to stop too.

Scoffing, Garou nudged you out of the way and shuffled inside your house. “At least, I don’t come in through the window. Ya should be grateful I even listened to yer annoying scolding,” he grumbled.

Once he reached the living room, he took off his torn shirt and threw it somewhere nearby. A sigh left his parted lips as he plopped down on the couch with arms rested across the back pillows and legs spread wide. The first time he did that, you’d scolded him for taking up all the available space. Although he didn’t care much to even listen, especially when you could easily snuggle up to him like you sometimes did, it still felt… nice. Nice in a sense that you were willing to take him on such a pointless argument despite his obvious apathy.

Garou heard you heaving another weary sigh and trudged towards the kitchen. You seemed exhausted lately, he noticed. The bags under your eyes got bigger and darker while the frown became more permanent. He wondered if it was the constant homework that caused you to appear this way. Though, he wasn’t fully oblivious to know that he had contributed to your fatigue too.

To say that he felt a little bad was an understatement. However, it wasn’t easy for him to express such a sentiment to you. Despite all his bluff regarding his ‘monstrosity’, Garou was still a human through and through. And that meant, he wasn’t devoid of feelings.

“Where are yer family?” He wasn’t necessarily curious about their whereabouts, to be honest. In fact, he was kind of happy that they weren’t here to disturb the rare peaceful times that he could only get from being with you – as strange as it sounded. Garou just wasn’t comfortable with the awkward silence that seemed to surround you both more frequently now. Ever since he turned your house into his ‘personal hospital’, the number of questions regarding trivia things – such as his day – had become sporadic.

And Garou didn’t like it. Not one bit.

But maybe it was his fault for taking your concern for granted.

“My parents are working,” you muttered, dropping the first aid kit on the coffee table. He furrowed his brows at the seemingly rude action. “And my brother’s still at school. You know that, Garou. This isn’t the first time you came here.”

Cheeks tinted pink, Garou looked away in embarrassment for being called out by you. Sitting down beside him, you began to tend to his wounds with utmost gentleness. Like you always did to him. Never once did you force him to tell you anything he wasn’t ready to, although you’d surely appreciate it. Of course, what kind of person would let their lover deal with their problems alone? You healed him patiently and quietly, without demanding gratitude. You were only a year younger than him, yet at times it felt as if you were the mature one in this relationship.

Your gentleness in treating him had softened him slightly; something that he rarely experienced yet refused to admit. He became a bit less blunt when speaking with you, and sometimes he opted to stay quiet instead. It was unlike anything he’d ever received in the past.

Garou wondered if it was better to break up with you since you could be easily used against him should an enemy found out. Not to mention, you were pretty much powerless if left alone. But he rejected the idea, as always. He couldn’t and didn’t want to imagine a life without you; a girl who treated him as though he was your equal.

Not someone lower. Not someone higher. Not a monster, but a human. And to break up with such a person would be the most idiotic thing he’d ever do.

No, he couldn’t afford to do that. To leave you meant exposing you to the cruelty of the word, to the enemies that were more than happy to manipulate you. You needed his protection, and although he might grumble a bit, he’d gladly guard you against any danger.

Even if it meant killing a monster or hurting a bunch of people, he wouldn’t care as long as you were safe.

The abrupt sensation of cold water dripping against his skin yanked him out of his sinister thoughts. Whipping his head towards the source, he saw the top of your head beside him. Tears trickled down to the bandage that you used to wrap his arm as you sobbed quietly behind a curtain of [h/c] hair. Amber irises immediately spied the room in case there was an enemy that intruded without his knowledge somehow.

“O-oi, why are ya crying?” The slight stammer and hesitation in patting your back proved his awkwardness of comforting someone. It was rather endearing, you had to admit. Usually, you would coo and playfully tease him over his nonexistent interpersonal warmth. But today, you didn’t have the strength nor in the mood to make such a joke.

“I’m scared…”

The alarm in his head went off after he heard those two words. A sentence that he would never wish to hear from you, out of all people. “What? Someone’s attacking ya or somethin’? Don’t be so vague.”

“No,” you shook your head, wiping the little snot that leaked from your nostrils with a tissue he’d grabbed for you. “I’m scared… of you.”

Garou tensed a little, arms froze around your stomach. For the first time in a year you’ve been together, he was at a loss on what to say. No amount of witty words or sarcasm could hide the gnawing feeling that you secretly feared him. Well, how could you not? He was a monster, for God’s sake! There was only so much you could bear without breaking down. The fact that you remained with him despite his infamy was admirable enough. But when he opened his mouth to inquire how long and why you only told him now, you cut him off.

“I mean, I’m scared that… you would die later.”

The misunderstanding instantly lifted the boulder that weighted his shoulders. Garou huffed laughter, amused by your silly confession and his paranoia. Your fear wasn’t baseless in any means. He had a lot of enemies pursuing him, after all. Still, your display of concern was entertaining for him. Dying wasn’t a part of his agenda; not until the world was free from its biased justice.

“Ya crybaby,” Garou lightly brought your head against his bare chest, stifling a giddy smile from appearing. He might not be the most tactful man to ever exist,but he knew better than to upset you even further. “Yer silly if you think I would die that easily on their dirty hands.”

“How would you know?” You struggled to retreat and look at him in the eye, but he refused to budge.

“Because I’m strong, that’s why.”

It was a rather weak reassurance; the frustrated scowl he discerned through your hair confirmed that. However, you couldn’t deny that he was right. Had he hadn’t devoted the majority of his time training and training, he would’ve long ended up in the hospital. Probably in a coma or something. You shivered at the thought.

“I’m still not convinced, you know,” you grumbled yet silently grateful for his poor attempt of consoling.

Garou sighed and finally released you. Lifting your chin with his index finger, he cocked his head and dove in to kiss you on the lips. There was no warning or a sign of lust in his eyes whatsoever. It was an abrupt kiss; one that you were completely unprepared to. Despite his blunt nature, he had never been this straightforward before. What possessed him to act this way?

After a second that fleeted too fast to your liking, he withdrew far enough for you to take a deep breath yet close enough for you to feel his. Your lips were a little swollen and your pupils were still dilated from the shock, but you were happy. Possibly more than you had felt in the past, not that you felt burdened of being with him. No, you could never be. You just didn’t want what else to describe your feelings right now.

“There. Is it convincing enough for ya? Or should I do more?”

#yandere garou #yandere one punch man #yandere opm #yandere opm x reader #Yandere garou x reader #Garou x reader #Yandere hero hunter #opm yandere #Yandere opm imagine #yandere opm scenario #Yandere opm oneshot #Yandere request #Request #Anon

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vannminner · 5 years ago

Text

Where Magic Flows (III)

A03

FanFiction

Part Three: Of the Earth

“The likelihood that this illness is airborne grows less plausible each day.”

“Then what other explanations do we have left? We have more patients coming through that door than we have walking out.”

A week had passed since Arendelle’s first two cases of the mysterious illness. Another six had since followed. In each instance, a child was brought into the clinic with, what appeared to be, flu-like symptoms. They came in for care; for stomach pain and nausea. Yet, not a single one had left on their feet.

Anna’s station at Doctor Laugen’s side had become a frequent occurrence. As Queen of Arendelle, she saw it in her responsibility to support each and every family that came through the doors. More than that, she felt it was her job to get to the bottom of it; to find a cure, a culprit. Or to risk falling gravely ill, herself.

“We have exhausted our efforts, your majesty.” Doctor Laugen replied. “Airborne pathogens would leave whole families susceptible. Even our weakest and eldest population would not have the power to withstand this disease. No. Whatever is causing this, it is environmental. It is in our food; our water, perhaps. It is destroying our youngest from the inside out.”

“Our food?” Anna frowned. “What you are describing sounds intentional. Are you saying you believe someone in Arendelle to be responsible for all of this?”

The doctor shrugged. “Perhaps not.” He sighed. “What we are dealing with could be as simple as a bad fish supply, or as complicated as infected waters. I have read of something like this taking its toll on big cities in Southern Europe. If one waterway is contaminated, there can be serious repercussions.”

Dragging a hand over her face, Anna shook her head. “I cannot tell our people to avoid the markets without just-proof. I need more than that! The little we do know has already caused a panic. It is not fair to the families to keep them on edge like this.”

Doctor Laugen turned his face towards the door. Outside of his office, there were more than a dozen patients and their parents; each one of them awaiting answers as desperately as Queen Anna. She was asking the doctor for too much, and Anna knew it.

“Just, please. So what you can.” She pleaded, and Anna stepped toward the exit.

Briefly, she froze. Her fingers suspended over the door handle. Anna spun back toward the doctor and bit her lip.

Her hand came to rest lightly against Laugen’s shoulder. “Thank you for what you are doing here.” Anna offered him a small grin. “I know you are doing the best you can, and I appreciate all your efforts.”

Doctor Laugen nodded, and Anna pulled away. She left his office with her chin high. Her eyes held straight ahead. She, once again, avoided the stares of patients, and dodged each hopeful glance. Right now, she had nothing for them, and she worried she would fail them as their new queen.

Kristoff awaited her outside the clinic. Sven stood calmly at his side. They both looked up, impatient, and stepped forward as Anna came out the exit.

“Any changes?” Kristoff asked. Sven chuffed with his nose against Anna’s hand.

She gave him a quick pat. “No, I am afraid not.”

She sighed, and her husband took her under his arm.

He slowly began leading them back towards the castle. “It might be time we bring Elsa down from the North…”

Anna nodded, sighing at the thought. “Unfortunately, I was thinking the same thing. Afterall, only Ahtohallan knows.”

“Cinnabar?” Elsa frowned. “I have never heard of it before.”

With her brows pinched, she came to her knees. Elsa leaned in close, holding the lantern over head. She examined the red powder under the glass, and released a small sigh.

“It is a Spanish ore used for paints and glazes.” Elder, Brandr, explained. “You may touch it, if you wish. It is harmless.”

The powder appeared fine, yet held a coarseness under her fingertip. Cinnabar was moist to the touch. It was as if it had soaked up water from the river, and had yet to dry out.

“Strange…” Elsa mused. She returned to her feet and stepped back. “Spain, you say? How did it come to find us here?”

Brandr turned to Hilf, his eldest son and aspiring scholar. “I am afraid, that, we do not know.”

“However, with the forest no longer hidden by the mist, there may be travelers from other parts of the world that have come to find these lands.”

It was Yelena who spoke next. The four had gathered at her goahti to discuss the elders’ findings. They deemed it best to keep any information about the disturbances to themselves until they had something more concrete to tell the people. For now, life in Northuldra had returned to normal. The giants had settled, and no further markings had been found throughout their lands.

“Foreign ores, such as this one, are also used in spiritual practices in the communities to our east. People will pay good money to export European ores for use in their sacred ceremonies, and other rituals.” Hilf explained.

As Elsa had come to learn, most of their history had been passed down through Northuldra generations. All their knowledge spanned across many years, and even more people. It was quite similar to how libraries were compiled back in Arendelle. However, the Northuldra had a forty year gap in which no new information was established. Elsa dared not to call it a deficit, but much had changed in the world since the mist drifted in. If this powder and the symbols were not traditional to the forest, there was a great likelihood they were dealing with something, or someone, foreign to these lands.

“What information do we have on these rituals?” Elsa asked.

Hilf came forward with a hand-rendered scripture. “We lack specifics.” He sighed. “I am afraid most of these practices belong to new-age religions, meaning their beliefs are ever-changing. As with the Northuldra, we rely on nature to form and guide our communal instincts. We yield our spiritual essence from the properties of magic found in our lands. However, with the dawn of a new-age, there are people out there who seek to profit from the creation of magic.”

“The creation of magic?” Elsa huffed. “Well, that is not much to go by. I have never heard of anyone having the ability to conjure magic before.”

“-and it may not even be possible.” Yelena stepped in. “Though, that will not stop people from trying.”

Elsa turned the parchment towards her. Hlif had compiled the drawings he'd found along the river. They reminded Elsa of the engravings she had found on the headstones at the entrance to the Enchanted Forest, and of the same ones found on her mother's shall. They were more complicated than that, however. Where lines crossed and new scriptures started; these drawings resembled that of a puzzle more likely.

“And what of the symbols? Am I to assume they belong to these new practices as well?”

Shrugging, Hilf directed a hand behind his neck. “There is no way for us to know. As Yelena has said, we are exposed to the outside world now. Anyone, with any belief, could wander in here.”

“But undetected?” Elsa shook her head. “That cannot be! I trust the spirits to show me the truth; to guide me towards that which does not belong here.”

“Perhaps they do not know, themselves.” Yelena cut in. “For as long as we have been isolated, so have they.”

Silence filled the small hut as Elsa mulled over her thoughts. So much here, was unknown. Modern science would fall victim to the same dead-ends. Not even the Northulda and their records could explain. Yet, one question still weighed heaviest.

“The earth giants.” Elsa’s brow pulled low, and her eyes caught in the light of the dim lantern. “Those markings and this powder; could they not be what caused the giants to rebel?”

With a steady breath, Yelena came to sit at Elsa’s side. “My dear, I have lived alongside the spirits for a near half of my life. I have both loved and feared them. From this, I have learned that nothing in nature is certain. Things are not always as they appear. However, if there is one aspect of these lands that I know I can trust, it is that the forest is ever-learning. If there is something here for which does not belong, we shall know soon enough.”

Her hand came to rest on top of Elsa’s. “Only Ahtohallan knows.”

A tiny grin teased at Elsa’s cheeks. “I believe I have somewhere I need to be, then.”

“It would appear so.” Yelena squeezed Elsa’s fingers before removing her hand. “Now go, dear child. Be one with the wind and sky.”

Elsa nodded. Feeling full, her confidence soared as she said her goodbyes and gave her thanks. She left the goahti with heightened spirits, yet made it no more than four feet before she was stopped once again- this time, with much more force.

Honeymaren had appeared out of nowhere. Her hand corded around Elsa’s forearm, and she dragged her between two huts. There, they were hidden from the villagers gathered in the clearing. As an added measure, Honeymaren tucked Elsa’s back into the trunk of a tree; where no one would be witness to their seemingly secret meeting.

“What, um. What are you doing?” Elsa balked. Her eyes held wide in confusion.

Honeymaren’s hand came to cover Elsa’s mouth and she glared. She was standing right on top of her, their torsos a mere inch apart.

“Shh,” She pleaded. “Listen to me. There is something you must see!”

“See what?” Her words muffled against the palm pressed to her lips. Honeymaren released her, and she tried again. “See what? What is going on?”

Honeymaren responded by dragging Elsa closer to the treelines, and away from the busy village. Once hidden in the forest, she turned to Elsa once more.

“What did the elders say?” Honeymaren asked. “Everyone is anxious, and Yelena will not tell them anything. But they know something; they must!” She shook her head clear. “That is not important right now. Anyway, please hurry! You have to come with me.”

Elsa tried to shrug from her hold, but Honeymaren's grasp persisted.

Irritated, her voice rose sharply. “The elders know nothing! They have nothing to say. I am heading to Ahtohallan to find the truth. If the village must know something, tell them we are doing the best we can.”

As Elsa tried to move past her, Honeymaren tugged back. “You have been to Ahtohallan already! There were no answers for you there.”

Elsa rolled her eyes. “It is not a telegram. I cannot make the truth appear for me by simply pushing buttons and asking.”

She stifled a growl. Honeymaren’s eyes burned with annoyance, and Elsa had never seen her in quite this way; a mix of impassioned and enraged.

“Listen to me.” She begged. Her tense whisper wavered at Elsa’s ears. “You must come with me now, please. There is something you should see, but we cannot yet tell the elders.”

Elsa wanted to argue. She wanted to tell Honeymaren that there were more important things she had to do; things in which would better serve the forest. Yet, Elsa could not bring herself to do so. She had come to trust Honeymaren; her unique instincts and beliefs. Elsa believed Honeymaren to be a new sort of family for her; her family outside of Arendelle. And by tell of the desperate look on Honeymaren’s face, Elsa knew she should give in.

“Alright.” She finally nodded. “You may show me.”

Honeymaren released an appreciative sigh. “Great!” She cheered. “Now, come with me!”

Elsa yelped as she was forcefully directed down the hill. Honeymaren had her running, Elsa’s arm still laced between her fingers.

Elsa stumbled as she raced to keep up. “Fifth spirit or not, I am still mortal. Ease up on the arm, could you?”

However, Honeymaren did not listen. She sprinted between trees and over rocks, leaving Elsa scrambling behind her.

“This way!” She encouraged her. Honeymaren pulled them into a hard left.

Elsa decided to keep her discomfort to herself. Seeing her friend near-panic, Elsa now sensed the urgency in Honeymaren’s actions. She began following as close to her heels as she could manage, and had a hard lock on all her other comments.

It was only a few more feet before they came to a drastic stop. Elsa skidded against the dirt, catching herself against a tree. She winced. Her hands scratched at the bark, and missing the opportunity to complain; Elsa was spun the other way.

Ryder was there now. Elsa had to blink to clear her vision, but there he was, looking as cheery as ever.

“Are we going?” He asked from a top his reindeer, Dahl.

Honeymaren ignored him. “Get on.” She instructed.

Elsa blinked and her eyes enlarged. “I beg your pardon?”

“Stop being stubborn!” Honeymaren’s hands snatched at Elsa’s waist.

She hoisted her onto the back of the reindeer and slid in behind her.

“Are we good to go?” Ryder asked.

Elsa’s protests were drowned out by Honeymaren’s reply. The deer had lurched forward. The three squeezed together, and suddenly, they were off.

Glaring, Elsa turned her head over her shoulder. “Yesterday, you asked if I felt at home here. Well, now I can confidently say, no one at home has ever dragged me down a hill and threw me on the back of a reindeer before!”

Honeymaren mimicked her stare. “It is not my fault you are always so stubborn!”

“Ladies! Ladies!” Ryder called overhead. “There is no need for hostilities!”

Both women grumbled in response.

Elsa crossed her arms. “Can you at least tell me where we are going?” She demanded.

“You shall see soon enough.” Honeymaren replied.

However, soon enough did not come as quickly as Elsa would have liked. They were riding the length of the valley, North. Even with the reindeer exhausting all four legs, Elsa could have gone faster by Nokk. That thought was moot now. She was fashioned between the two siblings in the middle of the forest. It was mid-day, and the summer sun was hot, yet all three were kept cool by the wind coming in from off the Dark Sea.

Long minutes passed by. How many minutes, was entirely unknown. The deer continued at full speed until they reached the peak of a great rock ledge. From there, the ground continued to roll downward, leading them back toward the river.

Dahl slowed at the hilt of the falls, and Honeymaren leapt from his back.

She spun to Elsa with hands on her hips. “Well?” She sang.

Elsa’s head tilt as she frowned. “Well, what?” She stepped onto the ground.

Elsa approached Honeymaren slowly, and assessed their surroundings with a calm and wandering gaze. Everything appeared normal. It was quiet. There were no strange markings, nor powder found on the ground. Yet, Honeymaren continued to stare at Elsa as if she were missing something obvious.

“I don’t understand. What am I not seeing here?” She asked. Her face stayed intentionally blank.

“Yes!” Honeymaren cheered. She jumped into the air. Taking Elsa’s shoulders between her hands, Honeymaren shook her erratically. “That is exactly it! What are you not seeing?”

Ryder was suddenly at Elsa’s back. His finger pointed out over her head. “About that tall…” He explained. “-big… some might say, giant… made of rock…”

“The earth giants?” Elsa dryly guessed. Her arms crossed defiantly.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!” He beamed.

Shaking her head, Elsa pulled from the pair. “What about them?”

“What about them!” Honeymaren scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know. Ryder, do you see a thirty foot tall earth giant anywhere?”

He shook his head and hummed. “You know, Mare, I do not!”

“Down by the shore?” She continued.

“Nope.”

“How about, in the meadow?”

“Nope again!”

Honeymaren turned to Elsa sharply. “Are you catching on yet?”

Elsa had turned silent as she walked to the face of the cliff. Her eyes scanned the low riverbanks. They pulled high to the tops of the Scots Pine. Finally, she turned.

“Gone?” She gasped. “As in, they have disappeared?”

Honeymaren stepped forward with her eyes circling playfully. “Well, let’s not go that far.”

“I tracked them out to the eastern border.” Ryder explained.

Elsa’s brows drew low. She shook her head. “The eastern border? But that’s the end of the forest; the end of Northuldra territory…”

“Finally!” Honeymaren sighed. “You have finally caught on to our dilemma.”

Though teasing, Elsa knew Honeymaren was worried. She could make sense of the fear held behind her dark brown eyes.

The earth giants were leaving the forest, and not one of them knew what could happen in consequence.

-M.

#where magic flows #my writing #elsamaren #elsamaren fic #frozen 2 #frozen 2 fanfiction #frozen #frozen fanfiction #Elsa #anna #kristoff #honeymaren

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years ago

Text

Others Like Me Chapter 15: Confidences

Chapters 1-10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 14 Read It On AO3

Both Barnes and Bucky are off the medical floor after one day, and back to normal after a week.

It takes only a few days for Tony to replace the gym. It will be much longer than that before Tony stops complaining about having to replace the gym. He tells Barnes and Bucky that the new gym exists only because the other Avengers asked for it and need it, and that the next items they damage will be the last, because if they ever break anything in there again, so help him, blah, blah, blah.

The biggest change, however, is that after that, Bucky is no longer restricted to his cell. In fact, he’s moved into other quarters, real quarters, where he isn’t monitored and none of the walls is a transparent barrier. He’s still restricted as to where he can go in the tower, but his choices are much wider now and include the common areas of the residences and even the landing platform.

He knows this new freedom is Barnes’s doing. He also knows that neither Tony Stark nor Natasha Romanoff approve. For whatever reason, though, Tony has chosen not to use his authority to prohibit it.

Bucky doesn’t push it. Instead of trying to engage the team members, he waits for them to approach him. He hasn’t been invited to join any team meals, but that doesn’t mean he’s alone much. Sam, Clint, and Bruce have declared their belief that he is trustworthy, that he is who he says he is. They act accordingly. The four of them, usually along with Barnes, work out and have frequent meals together. They spend quite a bit of leisure time together, as well. Bucky’s told them about their counterparts in his universe, and they’ve confirmed that their lives are pretty much the same here, which gives Bucky a welcome, comfortable sense of familiarity. In fact, he’s becoming closer to them in this universe than he ever was in his. Than you ever bothered to be, he tells himself. In many ways, this feels like a second chance. A chance to get it right.

Still, he has a long way to go. Although Bucky is welcome in Bruce’s lab, both Tony and Barnes are blunt about the fact that, if he’s ever found in there alone, things will get ugly fast. The same is true of any of the places he’s still forbidden to go.

It hurts to be an outsider in this familiar setting, with these people he cares so much for. It especially hurts to be so close to Tony and Natasha again, but to have them openly mistrustful, even hostile sometimes. Bucky tries to be patient, to remind himself that they’re protecting themselves, and each other, as they should. He gives them all the slack he can. It helps to remember that he would do the same thing. In fact, he knows that he would be far more suspicious than these guys are. These Avengers never knew Hydra. Because they haven’t lived through the experiences that his Avengers have, they aren’t hard like he is. Like Steve was. Even Marya is hard, in her way. It’s a large part of the reason she still can’t believe he is who he is.

He doesn’t know what these Avengers will do if they decide he’s a threat. But knows that the team from his universe, including Marya, would kill him. They’d have to.

Bucky thinks that’s why Marya’s been so compliant with the restrictions on her ability to see him. Because he can see she’s struggling with them. She watches him. Although the Avengers make sure that he never gets too close to her, he feels her eyes on him constantly whenever they’re in the same room. Just as he’s entirely aware of her. And when she is allowed to talk to him - always with team members close by - she talks only to him. It’s everywhere in her body language and he can hear it in her voice: she wants to be closer to him. Only her loyalty to the team, and her deference to Stark’s and Barnes’s authority are holding her back. That, and her loyalty to the Sergeant Barnes she is in love with, whom she can’t be sure is the one now claiming to be him.

The new gym has some upgrades from the old. For one thing, the new equipment is even heavier-duty. Bucky thinks that might be a subtle fuck you from Tony, but he appreciates it anyway. He knows Barnes does, too. They both know the frustration of not being able to train full-out because no equipment can withstand the punishment an enhanced supersoldier can deliver. It’s nice to use a heavy bag that will actually survive an entire workout.

This morning, he and Barnes are side by side, punching and kicking at some new training dummies that are supposed to be the most durable ever made. It was a little hard, getting started, because they both kept laughing, thinking about how they’d destroyed the old ones during their calamitous sparring match, in what basically boiled down to a really strange version of jousting. One of the old dummies had ended up embedded in the ceiling, which Tony had threatened to leave there as a reminder of their bad behavior. The only reason he hadn’t was that they both wanted him to.

Jarvis is putting Barnes and Bucky through training drills, using a program that was designed especially for Steve and Barnes. Jarvis calls out the strikes they’re to deliver to the training dummies: crosses, uppercuts, roundhouse kicks, hook kicks... In this universe, both Steve and Barnes had been chosen for Project Rebirth, which means that they both had the same need for a training regimen that was simply not possible for an unenhanced person. This program delivers it. The serum Hydra gave Bucky and Marya was similar enough that both of them can do the program, too, although Bucky is working harder right now than Barnes is. Marya, as a woman, simply doesn’t have the strength the men do, but she has more stamina. She can’t destroy the training dummy as quickly, but she can keep going with the program longer.

Today, though, Marya is not training with Barnes and Bucky. At Barnes’s insistence, she’s across the gym with Clint, spotting one another as they do gymnastics. Which puts her behind Barnes and Bucky, so Barnes can’t see her greedily watching Bucky. But Clint can.

“C’mon, kid,” he complains. “Pay attention so I don’t fall on my pretty face.”

“I’m sorry, Clint. I’ll do better.”

Clint leans in and speaks sympathetically, too quietly for supersoldier hearing to pick up so far across the room. “You better. Barnes catches you ogling Bucky like that, he’s gonna forbid you to see him at all. You know that’s what Tony wants him to do.”

Little frown lines between Marya’s eyebrows deepen as she looks between the supersoldiers and Clint. “Actually, it’s not quite what you think. I was thinking that maybe I should spar with Bucky. My Sergeant and I used to spar; it could be a way to test whether it’s really him. I will recognize how he fights, things we taught each other.”

Clint raises an eyebrow. “You know, for an excuse, that’s not half bad.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“Sure it is,” Clint winks. “But I’m on your side. His side, too, for that matter. Let’s go talk to Barnes.”

“I don’t think so, Marya. Too dangerous,” Barnes says, toweling sweat from his hair.

“Don’t you think I can protect myself?”

“I know you can protect yourself. Not that kind of dangerous.”

Right on cue, Bucky watches that adorable stubborn look come over Marya’s face. “How, exactly, do you expect him to hypnotize me or seduce me or whatever, while I’m punching him and throwing him around?”

Barnes laughs, although he’s well aware she’s not exactly making a joke. “We’ve had this conversation.”

“C’mon, Barnes,” Clint urges. “Let them try it. What if she’s right? You said fighting with him is how you knew he was you. Maybe fighting is how she’ll be able to tell if he’s the right you.”

Barnes sighs in disgust, muttering, “When do I start having all this authority I was supposed to get as Captain America?”

“Good man!” Clint smiles hugely and claps him on the back.

“No talking,” Barnes growls at Bucky and Marya. “Just spar.”

“No talking?” Bucky mocks. “I never met anyone talks as much as you do during a fight. Well, one guy, but he’s just a kid.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“We’ll take it,” Marya announces, turning decisively toward the sparring mat as Bucky watches Barnes react to the “we”. Oof. Poor fucker.

Bucky follows her, more slowly, Clint and Barnes a few steps behind. They come to stand next to a padded wall, six feet or so from where Marya and Bucky square off.

“How do you wanna start?” Bucky asks, suddenly feeling a little awkward, although he’s looking forward to this. He takes a moment to re-wrap the low ponytail holding his hair back.

“Just start. Come at me.”

Bucky finishes with his hair, shrugs and, without warning, lunges at Marya. She jumps at the last instant, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing off, so that he ends up grabbing thin air, and she vaults over him, twisting to land behind him, facing him. Before he has a chance to catch himself and turn around, she’s on him, tripping him with a foot around his ankle and grabbing his right wrist as he falls, so that he lands face down with her on top of him, one knee on the mat, the other on the back of his neck, and his right arm twisted behind him.

Barnes and Clint grin. Bucky laughs out loud.

“That’s new!”

“Yes, it is,” she smiles. “Clint’s.”

She lets Bucky up and he salutes Clint. “Nice.”

“Again,” Barnes grunts.

This time, Bucky tells Marya to attack. She starts with a flying kick, but he catches her leg, pushing so that her momentum goes to the side. He’s just about to grab her around the middle when she uses the momentum from his push to twist out of his reach. She lands, briefly, and jumps toward him, throwing all of her weight against him and knocking him backward. While he’s off balance, she sweeps his feet out from under him. She’s on top of him as soon as he crashes to the floor, kneeling on his chest, her hands around his throat.

Clint and Barnes once again chuckle, but Marya isn’t smiling. She’s mad. She stands and moves away, not even helping Bucky up. When he’s standing, she says, “Really? If I wanted a sparring dummy, I’d use one.”

Clint and Barnes begin to laugh, but recognize quickly that she’s not trash talking, because her posture is angry, and Bucky looks sheepish.

“Sorry,” he says. “Forgot how much you hate someone taking it easy on you.”

That answer seems to satisfy her, and she nods in acceptance. Her frown lines disappear, although she doesn’t smile. In fact, she cocks her head and smirks a little as she says, “You said you want to prove you’re my Sergeant. So, prove it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Bucky says, and it’s anybody’s guess whether he’s needling her back.

“I’m not worried about it,” she responds, and that is definitely a jab.

He starts moving, stalking really, and she goes into a defensive crouch, waiting to see what he’ll do. She circles as they get close to the wall, and he continues to simply come at her. Barnes knows what he’s doing, but apparently Marya doesn’t, because she goes for what she thinks is a surprise attack, crouching low and trying to get under his center of gravity so she can knock him off his feet. He simply catches her and stands up. The next thing she knows, he’s holding her by her torso, one arm across her hips and one across her chest. She’s upside-down, and can’t really do much of anything.

She tries kicking her legs, using her weight to pull herself out of his arms, but he’s much too strong. Her position is undignified as hell, and he’s laughing, so she does the only thing she can do.

She kicks him, hard, in the face.

It would work on a normal man, but Bucky’s enhanced, and he’s also no stranger to pain. A bloody nose isn’t such a big deal. He’d prefer not to have her do it again, though, so he lets go with one arm and wraps it around her thighs, falling to the mat as he twists her right-side-up, and ends up lying full-length on top of her. It knocks the breath out of her with a hard grunt, and she struggles beneath him, but there’s nothing she can do to escape. She can’t breathe, and he’s simply too heavy.

After lying there just long enough to make it clear that she’s pinned, he lifts some of his weight onto his arms so that she can breathe.

“You OK?”

“You’re… bleeding on… me,” she gasps.

“Whose fault is that?”

“No talking!” Barnes shouts, and moves in. He kneels down to help Marya sit up, although she grumbles that she can get up by herself.

Bucky just sits nearby, smiling and holding the hem of his T-shirt to his bloody nose. Clint steps over, grinning, and hands him a towel.

“Thanks, man,” Bucky grunts.

Marya turns toward him, frowning at his smile. His stomach does a little flip-flop. She’s never been a particularly gracious loser, and he’d forgotten how fucking cute it is.

“You wanna go again?” He asks.

“Yes!”

Barnes puts a hand on her shoulder. “Marya…”

“Captain, don’t baby me. I’m not the one who is bleeding, am I?”

Barnes shrugs and stands, extending a hand to help her up.

Bucky and Marya go back to the center of the mat, while Clint and Barnes resume their places by the wall. Marya looks crookedly at Bucky then, a calculating gleam in her eye. “Drax the Destroyer?”

For a moment, Bucky blinks stupidly. Then, just as Marya’s face begins to fall, his mind clicks onto what she’s talking about. He realizes it’s a test, and also realizes, joyfully, that he’s about to pass it. Bucky cocks his head. “You sure? You never could defend that.”

She likes that answer. “Try it now.”

He goes down to one knee and extends his right arm. She grins maliciously as she steps over to him, circling until she is behind him with her left arm around his neck, taking his wrist and gently moving his arm until it is twisted behind his back. He wraps his left hand around her arm.

“Ready?” He asks.

“Whenever you-“

And with that, he twists to his left, into her, taking his left hand from her arm at his neck and plunging it between them to encircle her left calf. The twist yanks his right arm from her grip and suddenly, instead of her holding his wrist, he’s holding hers. From there, he simply pushes to his feet and he’s holding her by her right arm and her left leg over his shoulder. For a moment, it seems as though he has her in a hold she can’t escape, and can either toss her to the floor or simply carry her away, whichever he chooses. But his victory is short-lived, because he gets careless, thinking she still can’t escape this hold.

He’s about to make fun of her when she yanks her wrist as hard as she can. He’s made the mistake of relaxing his arm, but he’s not so unaware that he doesn’t immediately clamp his hand harder around it. It doesn’t matter, though, because she’s pulled their arms up far enough that she can get her elbow over his head. Since she twists her body as she does it, she ends up hanging with all her weight at an angle that means he can’t keep hold of her in his left arm. Essentially, she’s snaked out of his hold and is suddenly standing, with his hand holding her wrist, and easily gets under him to throw him over her shoulder and to the floor.

She moves to run a few steps, thinking to turn and resume a defensive stance but his hand streaks out, whip-fast, and grabs her ankle. She falls forward. He scrambles to his hands and knees and frog-leaps to land on top of her, but she’s had time to flip over, so his chest meets her foot, her leg bent between them. She pushes him back and to the side, off of her, and rolls away. Again, she leaps to her feet and tries to put some distance between them. He kicks himself to standing in one move. She’s faster, but he’s taller with longer arms, so he catches her only a few feet away, before she has time to get far enough away to turn around and defend.

He doesn’t stop once he gets hold of her, but keeps his forward momentum going, with both arms wrapped tightly around her torso, continuing on until she’s pressed between him and the padded wall. It’s an easy matter to slide his arms up her body so that he catches her arms, and pins them above her head against the wall. His knee is between her legs, pressing against the wall, and again his weight is too much for her to push off and escape. He’s been around this particular block, his other foot is far enough back that she can’t stomp his instep or kick his calf hard enough to hurt. Much.

They’re breathing hard, he’s pressing his torso full-length against hers, and suddenly he doesn’t particularly want to move. Ever. He leans his head down to whisper in her ear.

“Give up?”

“Fuck you,” she spits, and tries every kick, twist, and bend she can think of. Nothing works.

That feels pretty good, too, so he just keeps her there, letting her wriggle around and try to break his hold or push him off of her. Or whatever else she wants to do, really, as long as he can keep his nose in her hair and breathe in the achingly familiar scent of her, feel her gasping underneath him again.

“How about now?” He asks after a minute, smiling now.

“You are a terrible winner,” she grunts, still struggling to find a way to free herself, but he can hear the smile in her voice.

“And you’re a terrible loser,” he purrs into her ear. “Which is why I let you win so much.”

She has the expected reaction to that, and he enjoys a few more minutes of feeling her writhing between him and the wall. He starts to be concerned that, in a minute, things are going to make Barnes even more unhappy about this than he already is.

She stops moving and lets out a frustrated “Aaaaugh!”

“Is that a ‘You win’?” He can’t resist murmuring that, low and soft.

“Yes, damn you.”

He lets her wrists go and steps back, but only far enough so that she can turn around. When she does, she’s smiling ear to ear. “You fight like him.”

“I am him,” he says smugly, moving back in so they are almost chest to chest.

She cocks her head, looking into his eyes with a delighted expression. “Then you won’t be surprised when you look down.”

When he does, he sees that she’s holding a rubber practice knife to his belly.

“You still fight dirty.”

She shrugs happily.

Suddenly, without any intention of doing it, he takes her into his arms and lifts her off her feet, laughing and twirling them around, away from the wall. She throws her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly and laughing just as hard.

“Knock it off!” Barnes’s voice cuts through the moment.

In three long strides, he’s standing between them as they spring apart. He’s scowling at both of them with barely-contained anger. “Go take a shower, Marya,” he snarls.

“Yes, Captain.”

As Marya backs away from them, Bucky sees cold reality slam back down on her. She’s no longer joyful. Instead, she’s looking at him with, if possible, even more fear than on the day he’d arrived here. He’s just come very close to putting something over on her, from which Barnes has narrowly saved her, and the idea terrifies her. That look, by itself, would probably have been devastating.

But Bucky’s not devastated. Not at all. Because that fear doesn’t cover the desire that is equally evident in her face. Barnes sees it, too. It’s the reason he’s so angry. This time, Bucky does recognize hope when he feels it.

Both Barnes and Bucky watch Marya until she’s made it all the way across the floor and out the door, with Clint on her heels.

As they disappear from sight, Barnes turns on Bucky. “You fucking prick,” he hisses.

“What’d I do?”

“You’re supposed to be me, right? You think I don’t recognize my own moves? I’m not gonna let you use her for whatever your game is. That’s the last time you see her.”

“I don’t have a game. You know that. That’s not what you’re upset about. You’re in love with her.”

“Shut the fuck up. I ain’t talkin’ to you about that.”

“Who better to talk about it with? I’m you, dude.”

Barnes gives an ugly laugh. “You’re clearly not me. She loves you.”

Oh.

“So she doesn’t…”

“I told you to shut the fuck up about it.” Barnes starts across the floor toward the locker room and Bucky falls in beside him.

“I’m sorry. That’s gotta hurt.”

“Fuck you.”

“So what’s the problem? Is it because of Steve?”

“No, genius, it isn’t because of Steve. It’s because of you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Marya loves some version of me who ain’t me, and I got no idea how I’m supposed to compete with myself. What even is that? Why wouldn’t that mean she can’t help but love me?” It’s clear it’s not even close to the first time Barnes has asked himself these questions.

Bucky tries to be gentle. “I think you know the answer to that, Ace.”

“Because she’s the most loyal woman who ever breathed? Yeah, I figured that out. Doesn’t mean it makes any sense. She knows she won’t ever get back to her universe. As far as she knows, her Sergeant is with Steve, and that’s where he belongs.”

“I don’t think that’s how she works.”

“Tell me about it,” Barnes sighs. They don’t say anything more until they reach the locker room entrance. “I don’t know, man. Maybe it’s for the best. Not sure I’m ever gonna get over Steve, anyway.”

Bucky claps a hand on Barnes’s shoulder.

“I’m actually kinda surprised you can,” Barnes continues. “Yours left you. That’s gotta be worse, in a way.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just… different. Least I know he’s alive. Probably happy. That matters to me, in the short intervals where I don’t wanna rip him into bloody shreds.”

Barnes actually laughs at that, heavy with emotion though the laugh is. “Shit, do I know that one. Never been one minute where I didn’t wanna punch his lights out and fuck him senseless at the same time.”

They reach out simultaneously to open lockers, and Bucky gives a low, lascivious laugh. Barnes looks over to see Bucky’s cocked eyebrow and evil grin, and grins conspiratorially back.

“Yeah, us too. You gotta be the only person who’d ever understand that.”

“Hot as hell, right?”

“Damn straight. We broke bones a few times; still fucked him into the mattress.”

“Same,” Bucky says, and they laugh quietly, both falling into similar pleasant memories.

*****

Late that evening, Bucky’s lying on the couch in his apartment, a book forgotten on his chest while he stares blindly at the ceiling, remembering the way Marya felt against him, the way she smelled. The way she looked at him when they were sparring. It’s almost painful, the constriction he feels in his chest as he remembers her deep brown eyes, dancing with mischief, and the feeling of utter joy that washed over him as he picked her up and felt her arms clasp him. It’s not sexual. OK, it’s totally sexual. But it’s so much broader and deeper than that. Bucky realizes, lying in this Stark Tower that isn’t Avengers Tower, that he is not the same man who left that other universe. That man didn’t care if he lived or died, because he was already pretty much dead, anyway.

But he’s alive now. He’s alive and he wants to be a part of this group of Avengers. He wants to care again, and have people care about him. He wants to fight again, to be part of protecting good people from bad ones. And he wants Marya.

He knows it’s her when he hears a knock at his door. He smiles. He doesn’t know whether she’s there to kiss him or kill him. He’d prefer kissing, of course, but he’s got time. For now, he’ll take either one.

When he opens the door, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that she’s calm and, although not exactly smiling, she isn’t looking at him like she had in the gym, either.

“Everything OK?” He asks.

“Yes. I just came because…” She hesitates. “I would like to ask you for something.”

“Of course.” Bucky moves aside, inviting her in, and his heart beats just a little faster when he sees her accept. When he indicates the couch in silent invitation, Marya takes a seat and he sits, too, turned toward her but not touching.

She begins quietly. “I would like you to tell me about my brothers and sisters. I know it may all be lies, but you said that they were well. I’ve decided that I want to hear stories about them being well, even if they are lies. I want to know about my true brother.” She looks up at him. “Will you tell me about Dmitriy?”

“Marya, of course I will. And it won’t be lies. I know you don’t believe that yet, but it just… feels like I should say it.”

She nods and her lips lift a little in a small, regretful smile. “If you are my Sergeant, I can’t imagine what it is like for you, that I doubt you.”

“Doesn’t feel good, that’s for sure. But I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“It is hard for me, too. Very hard.”

“I know. I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, it’s smart to be careful. You and I know better than anyone here how smart that is. We knew Hydra.”

“Do you suppose they will ever stop spoiling our lives?”

Bucky shrugs philosophically. “They say the best revenge is living well. We gotta keep tryin’ to give them the finger by being happy.”

Marya gives him a real smile this time. “Yes. Let’s do that. And tell me about my brothers and sisters giving Hydra the finger, too.”

An hour later, Bucky has barely stopped talking. He’s told Marya all that he can think of about the progress the Troops have made on their Compound, and in learning to live in the world. It’s gratifying to see her laugh, and the love and joy shining on her face as she learns how well the Troops, her only family, are doing. She’s also cried a little, too. These are the people she was raised with, people with whom she endured slavery and torture, and for whom she willingly sacrificed her life. She misses them fiercely and constantly, knowing she will never see any of them again. She loves them so much that she can only express through tears her happiness that they’re truly living now, enjoying and making full use of their freedom.

“I am so grateful, Sergeant. I am so grateful to Mr. Stark, and to Dr. Banner and Natasha, and all of you. I want so much to see their Compound. To see my brothers and sisters living free, without having to be afraid, I would give a lot for that.”

Bucky doesn’t miss her calling him Sergeant. But even though it sends lightning shocks through every nerve in his body, he manages not to react. Not yet.

“It’s not perfect,” he tells her. They have bad memories, and guilt… They deal with all of the things you and I do. But they’re making a life. And you’d be so proud of Dmitriy.” Bucky smiles and begins to tell Marya stories about her brother’s life as leader of the Compound, many of which lovingly make fun of him, but most of which are very complimentary. Bucky’s deep affection for Dmitriy is obvious as he talks.

At one point, Marya narrows her eyes. “Did you and Dmitriy…”

Her question is answered immediately by the look on his face and the change in his posture.

“It didn’t go very far.” To Bucky’s relief, she doesn’t ask why. For many reasons, he doesn’t explain, either.

“Good. I would be very angry with you if you fell in love with my brother.”

“In my defense, you were dead.”

“As you can see, I am not dead. And it would make me very jealous.”

“You weren’t jealous of Steve,” Bucky prods.

“Of course I was jealous of Captain Rogers! I am a very jealous woman, Sergeant. I didn’t try to stand between you because he was the one you loved. But if you don’t think I was jealous, then you are a fool. Besides, Captain Rogers is not my brother.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry. Dmitriy is a very good friend, end of story.”

Bucky notices the second time Marya slips and calls him Sergeant. He’s surprised she can’t see how that affects him.

“Marya, can I ask you a personal question? There’s something I don’t get. Me and Barnes, we’re the same guy. And we’re the guy you were in love with in your universe. So why aren’t you and he…?”

“Captain Barnes is very important to me. I love him very much.”

“Do you… are you in love with him?”

Marya’s eyes go distant and a sadness creeps into her expression. “No. He was married to Captain Rogers when I arrived. It was right, and they were so happy... And then, when Captain Rogers was killed… For a while, we took turns staying with him, because he was so broken. We were afraid for him.”

“I notice he’s especially protective of you, too.”

“Yes, he is. I like it. And I thought, for a while, that maybe we could… But no.”

“Why not?”

“He is not my Sergeant.”

“But if you can never get back to your Sergeant, and you think your Sergeant is with Steve, anyway…?”

“I know, but Captain Barnes… is not my Sergeant. Anyway, he is worthy of more than being some sort of substitute.”

They simply sit there together for a while, thinking their own thoughts in silence.

“It’s difficult, this being in a different universe,” Marya muses. “Some things are exactly the same, and some things are very different. I get surprised by it, still, sometimes. And I miss everyone very much.”

“There are good things, though. Here, Tony and Natasha are still alive.”

“Yes, they are gone in your universe. And if that is my universe as well…”

Bucky hears a catch in Marya’s breath and looks to see tears welling in her eyes.

“I know,” he says quietly and, as naturally as breathing, puts an arm around her to hug her to him. They both stiffen for a moment, but she doesn’t move away.

“I know that my Mr. Stark would do what yours did. He was heroic, even though he pretended not to be.”

“He was a lot of things. Complex guy, Tony Stark. But yeah. When it came down to it...”

Marya nods. “I think Agent Romanoff would be proud of herself. I am sorry for Mr. Barton, though. I think her death must have been very hard on him.”

“So he’s Clint here and Mr. Barton there?”

She flicks a somewhat surprised look at him, but all she says is, “He will not let me call him Mr. Barton here. And Sam will not let me call him Mr. Wilson.”

“Didn’t in our universe, either,” Bucky notes, and again sees something in her eyes.

“No, he didn’t. Was Mr. Barton all right, after Agent Romanoff’s death?”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to see it, Marya. Guy was heartbroken. Barely said three words to any of us after that. We were all glad he had his family to go home to, ‘cause the life just went out of him.”

“I’m sorry for that. I hope he is happy now.”

“I don’t know that he’s happy. Not yet. He doesn’t communicate with us, but Laura, his wife, sent word that he’s all right.”

“So much loss,” Marya whispers, then turns to look up into Bucky’s face. “No wonder you are so sad.”

“I’m not sad,” Bucky tells her, and his voice has gone as quiet as hers. “Not anymore. Not really.”

They look at each other for a long time, sitting next to one another with his arm still laid loosely across her shoulders. Marya sits up a little to move closer so that she can study his face. She’s frowning as she touches his forehead, running a fingertip lightly up and down the frown lines between his eyebrows. “You still look sad. And so tired. I can see that you have been miserable. That hurts me. I don’t want you to be sad.”

“No matter who I am?” He teases softly.

“I know that you are James Barnes. That is enough. Captain Barnes is not my Sergeant, but his unhappiness hurts me, too. I do not want there to be pain in that beautiful face.” She lays her hand full on his cheek, looking into his eyes.

“I wish you could believe that I’m your Sergeant. I wish I could help you believe that.”

“I do, too.” Marya’s breath catches again. “I want him with me. I miss him so much.”

Wanting to lighten the mood, Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “You have two of us right here, Marya. Gotta tell ya’, wanting another one, that seems kind of greedy.”

Marya doesn’t laugh. If anything, she’s closer to tears. “A room full would not be enough. I don’t just want any Sergeant Barnes. I want him. I want mine.”

“You got me, sweetheart,” Bucky assures her, pulling her closer. “I’m right here. I wish you could believe that. I don’t like to see you hurting, either.”

“I should know whether you are him or not! I thought that, no matter what, I would just feel it.”

“Well, you are right here in my arms. You can’t stay away from me, even though you’re under direct orders not to come here.”

“Yes, but that is just because I don’t know.”

“Is it?” Bucky asks, tipping her face up with a finger. “Or is it because you do know?”

Marya freezes, looking up into his eyes. There’s a flicker of fear in her gaze.

Bucky takes her hand, and she lets him. He lifts it to his lips, and softly kisses the tops of her fingers. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’ll wait until you’re sure, no matter how long it takes. I love you, Marya.”

Her deep brown eyes bore into his, searching the blue depths as though the answer is there, if she can only find it. She’s conflicted, that’s clear. The longing that he first heard in her voice the day he arrived, and that he’s been able to see on her face in unguarded moments since, is undisguised in this moment. Right now, alone together with his arm around her, she’s letting him see it, communicating it to him rather than trying to hide it. Asking him to help her give in to it.

Bucky tightens his arm around her, pulling her closer as he leans in, making it clear that he intends to kiss her. Marya tilts her head and he sees her close her eyes just before he does. His lips are so close to hers that he imagines he can already feel the warmth of them when she suddenly sucks in her breath and backs away.

“No, I can’t…” she gasps, pushing against his chest as, quickly and unsteadily, she gets to her feet.

“Please, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have…” Bucky reaches out an arm to her. “Marya, I promise, I won’t do that again. Just don’t leave. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, stumbling ungracefully to the door. He rises but she’s already got the door open and is rushing out before he reaches it. He can hear her ragged breathing as she goes.

Fuck.

Bucky stares down the empty hallway long after she’s turned the corner. He wants to howl and punch his fist through a few brick walls. Partly to vent his frustration, and partly to punish himself. He should never have pushed her like that! He can only imagine how he’s fucking with her carefully rebuilt life here, how upset she must be right this minute, after his selfish, clumsy, ham-fisted attempt to kiss her.

Then again.

She called him Sergeant at least twice tonight. When she talked about her Sergeant Barnes, she called him “you”. All night, whether or not she knows it or is ready to accept it, she’s been talking to him as though he’s the real Bucky. Her Sergeant.

#the avengers #Captain America #Bucky Barnes #Tony Stark #Natasha Romanoff #Clint Barton #Sam Wilson #Bruce Banner #Sebastian Stan #Robert Downey Jr.

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