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chriscrosswallflower-blog · 3 months

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we're not brave, we're not soldier - chapter 5

Chapter 4

DOA part 2

(TW for panic attacks and PTSD)

Even with five powerful demigods it still took nearly an hour to slay the monsters that had invaded the camp. Percy breathed heavily, shaking monster dust out of his hair as he made his way to Annabeth.

“Did they get to the girl in time?” Annabeth could only shrug.

“I’m not sure, I saw Will and Kayla carry her off the field.”

“Well, if anyone could save her it would be Will.” Percy said quietly, leaning into Annabeth as she snaked her arm around his waist and gently led him to the infirmary. She could feel the tension and worry radiating off of her boyfriend. They had both seen the girl briefly and Annabeth was surprised she was even alive when Will got to her. It looked like the poor thing had nearly been torn in half. It was enough to make even the strongest of warriors feel queasy and she wasn’t sure that any of them could handle another death right now.

The first thing that she noticed when she entered the infirmary was that it looked like the floor was painted red. Kayla stood in the middle of it all, furiously scrubbing down a gurney with a pink cloth. There were shell shocked demi-gods throughout the med bay - sitting on their cots in silence, whispering to friends, or loudly sobbing.

“Percy, Annabeth!” Kayla cried as she saw the pair walk in. She rushed to meet them, reaching for a hug before she realized her scrubs were soaked in blood.

“Have you seen Will?” She asked in a rush, voice trembling.

“He’s not here?” Percy asked, a wave of anxiety crashing into him when frustrated tears began to make their way down Kayla’s face.

“I don’t know! After the girl…after I called time of death Austin and I tried to calm everyone down and start cleaning up but by the time we realized that Will wasn’t with us we couldn’t find him! Austin’s doing rounds now but he still hasn’t found him and it’s been like 20 minutes! And I wanted to go find him but I have to disinfect the med bay and…”

“Kayla, it’s okay! We’ll go and make sure everything is alright.” Annabeth said, cutting the girl off with a squeeze to the shoulder. Kayla took a deep breath and nodded.

“Thanks. Can you just…let me know when you find him? Everything has been really hard lately and he took the girl’s death really hard. I’m just…worried.” Percy nodded, feeling like his heart may crack in two as he watched the powerful archer shrink in on herself, looking every bit of eleven years old.

The couple made their way through the infirmary, checking every nook and cranny but couldn’t find the head healer. That was until Percy remembered a conversation that the two had after that night in the woods and led them to a supply closet in the very back of the building. He put his ear to the door and sure enough, he heard soft cries coming from inside. He looked to Annabeth, relief flooding him as she immediately understood, nodding before she headed off to find Kayla.

Despite his own anxiety, he felt a warm rush of affection for the girl who knew him as well as he knew himself. He’d never understand how he got so lucky.

Percy steeled himself before cracking the door open, worried that he didn’t have the tools to deal with this but knowing he had to try. He slipped in through the crack, closing the door softly behind him so no one had the chance to snoop.

“Will?” He whispered, his eyes scanning the closet. He could still hear those soft muffled cries but didn’t immediately see the boy. Eventually he found him, curled up in a tight ball and squished between the wall and a large filing cabinet. They met eyes for just a moment before Will hid his face in embarrassment, but what he saw took his breath away.

Will’s yellow scrubs and hands were covered in sticky blood, which he had spread to his face and hair. His face was far too pale except his flushed cheeks, which blazed from exertion as he struggled to breathe, his chest rising and falling quickly but constricted by how tightly he had balled himself up in the corner. Percy’s heart ached as he sank down to his knees, reaching out in an attempt to comfort the boy but Will quickly flinched away.

“No, please, please don’t touch me! I’m disgusting, I can’t do anything right…I can’t…I couldn’t save anyone!” He cried, sobs racking his frame violently as he hid his face in his knees, his hands pulling desperately at his hair.

“Hey, no that’s not true! It wasn’t your fault.” Percy whispered, but it seemed like his words weren’t reaching his friend as he continued to mutter vile things about himself. He felt his stomach turn as he had to physically sit on his hands to prevent himself from reaching out to try to provide some kind of comfort.

He might have known it was only a matter of time before the head healer crashed as he tried to be everything for everyone, but seeing the extent of the boy’s anguish was unnerving. Will was usually the one providing comfort but now that the tables had turned, and Percy found himself at a loss. His head spun as he tried to think of something, anything he could do to help but nothing came to him.

He had never felt so useless in his life.

“Will, hey, you know I'm not very good at this and I'm not sure what to do here but I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.Just…just try to breathe with me, okay?” He said, remembering the exaggerated breathing exercises that Will had taken him through just a few weeks ago. He couldn’t remember the exact numbers or anything so he just tried to breathe loud and slow.

It took a while, but eventually Will let go of his hair, his head lolling toward the wall as his strength rapidly depleted. His breaths still came hard and fast, but they had evened out and he was slowly coming back to reality. He felt like he was underwater, everything he heard and saw distorted by waves of dizziness. He squinted at the figure in front of him, finally making out sea blue eyes and olive skin.

“Percy…wha…you shouldn’t be here…” He slurred, his stomach clenching painfully as he realized the boy had been watching him fall apart. He reached out to softly push him away but the other boy just caught his hand and held it tightly.

“Yeah, no, there’s no way i’m leaving you like this.” Percy said, narrowing his eyes as Will tried to shyly convince him that he was fine even in the midst of one of the worst panic attacks he’d ever seen. Percy knew what it meant to be the strong one, to take care of others but feel like a massive inconvenience and failure when it all became too much. It’s part of what led to his own panic attack in the woods and eventually breaking down in Annabeth’s arms a few days later.

“Hey, can you look at me?” He asked, squeezing the boy’s hand tightly. It seemed to take ages but eventually Will met his eyes, the shame practically pouring off of him.

“If you really want me to go, I will. But you don’t deserve to deal with this alone. If I leave you like this I…I don’t know that I could ever forgive myself. So please, please let me help?” Percy whispered, watching as the boy’s walls tumbled down and he was left with this raw, painful vulnerability. Will made a small, desperate sound in the back of his throat, unable to get anything else out. Percy chose to take it as an agreement.

“Come on, you can’t be able to breathe well like that and you look like you’re about to pass out. Let’s lay down here.” Percy said, gently coaxing Will out of his corner and getting him to lay down, softly encouraging him to unlock his muscles until he was laying flat on his back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, moving to lay beside him. Will shook his head desperately, his sobs coming a bit quicker at the thought of reliving everything.

“Okay, okay that’s no problem. Umm, is it okay if I put your hand on my chest?” Percy asked, feeling unsure and overwhelmed that he might do something wrong. After a few minutes, Will nodded and he put their clasped hands on his chest, breathing slowly and deeply.

They stayed like that for nearly half an hour, Will’s sobs eventually slowing to sniffles and his breathing evening out. Eventually, Percy heard the boy’s breaths slow drastically, letting him know he was sleeping. He sat up, watching his face for a few minutes to make sure he was really asleep, but even though his face was flushed and covered with tear tracks and smears of dried blood, he looked nearly peaceful. Percy felt a huge weight lift off of his own shoulders, thankful that he hadn’t screwed up too badly.

Percy slowly carried Will back to the healer’s break room, trying not to wake him. When he nudged the door open with his foot, he found Kayla, Austin, and Annabeth all waiting anxiously. Kayla began to rush to them but Percy shook his head, nodding to her sleeping brother. Her eyes got impossibly soft as she went to get a blanket, draping it over him as Percy laid him down on their lumpy couch.

All four kept vigil for the four hours that Will slept, Kayla and Austin only leaving briefly to do their rounds. When he woke, the five would talk. Somehow even more tears would be shed and Chiron would make his way in, doing his best to treat their survivors' guilt - something that was long overdue. But for now, they just sat in silence, thankful for the brief moment of peace.

Chapter 6

#ao3 #fanfic #percabeth #percy and annabeth #percy jackson #pjo #solangelo #will solace #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #nico di angelo

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caitsyoi · 9 months

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I'm going to talk about 9/11 a bit, but I'm going to put it under the cut because it may be long, and I'm not sure anyone would want to read it. I just need to vent a little because the day always makes me a little sad. I'm going to recall some memories from that day, too, so be warned before you read. I'm a tumblr old, so I remember it well, and many of these memories involve some traumatic shit.

To me 9/11 is always a solemn day not just because of what happened that day, but also what it did to us as a country and the world. I don't want people to remember 9/11 like so many of us did, as a justification for war. Tbh I don't know what I want from writing this. I think I just need to express some things that have been rolling around in my head today.

I was fortunate to not lose anyone that day. One of my older brothers did spend about half his time in the WTC though, and there was a period of time that day where we didn't know if he was there. This was pre cell phones for most people and we couldn't get through to his work phone. When the towers fell I still didn't know, and that fear is something I will always think of on 9/11. I used all my lunch money on a pay phone trying to call family members. About an hour after that my dad did hear from him and we were all relieved. He went on to have 3 kids and I sometimes think about how many people weren't born due to 9/11 and the wars afterward.

The community I grew up in wasn't close to NY or DC, but we did have some connections to it. The girl that sat next to me in typing class had a father who worked at the Pentagon, and she told me her dad was helping to look for bodies there. About 10% of my class joined the military later, and 2 died in Afghanistan. When I was a senior years after 9/11, my boyfriend was a year older than me and in the National Guard. He was sent to Iraq and wounded there. My mom's work was tied to the military, and she spent most of the next few months working long, stressful hours. It led to her having a mini stroke, and she retired early about 8 years after 9/11.

That day and for days after all the channels showed endless 9/11 footage. There were close-ups of people in or above the impact zones in the towers, which is something they showed live. I have the image of people waving for help from the windows permanently stuck in my head. The news also showed people falling, they would try to cut away most of the time but sometimes the camera would linger and you could see more detail than you wanted too. That evening they also kept showing pictures of falling people, until finally they decided that was fucked up and stopped. Those images are stuck in my head too.

Many people were glued to the TV and we we were just completely immersed in these images over and over again. While it was happening there was the terror of not knowing what would happen to all those people. Could the people waving for help be rescued? Were there any more hijacked planes full of people waiting for their deaths? When the towers fell, how many people were in them still? The news kept saying there could be as many as 10k people dead from the towers alone. Were we going to war? We had to be. Somehow, we had to get revenge for all these people who died in terror. I remember waking up the next morning to find my mom crying in front of the TV, I think it was just all too much.

We really didn't know what would happen next. Later that afternoon, Air Force 1 flew over our house, and the jets around it caused a sonic boom. I had never heard one before. The local news cut in and said there was an explosion not too far from where my mom was (this was later corrected to a random fire + the sonic boom). This is going to sound silly, but I had an anxiety attack that my mom was in danger, which was exasperated when she didn't answer her work phone. I remember when she got home that day, I was sitting at the kitchen table and saw her pull up. I ran outside crying and hugged her.

As time passed, we learned more about the dead. There were children on the planes. I remember before the 2nd plane hit the towers, my mind thought the first plane had to be a smaller one, like a little Cessna or something. It didn't make sense, but my mind couldn't accept that someone would fly a plane full of people into a building. Then the 2nd plane hit and reality set in.

The news showed people covered in dust and sometimes blood fleeing the towers. It showed hospitals with staff waiting outside with gurney beds waiting for victims that would never come. Posters of all the missing all over NYC. People went on the news looking for their loved ones and there was so much pain on their faces and in their voices.

All this grief, all this anger we felt, was then used to inflict more tragedies on others. Nearly a million dead in the War on Terror (how the fuck do you go to war on a concept?). I'm ashamed to admit that I bought into the propaganda, I think most people did until the Iraq war, myself included. For years afterward, 9/11 would fill me with so much anger. Now I look back on that, and I'm angry for different reasons. I'm angry we decided to go along with everything the government wanted to do in response, like a war without a timetable or plan to end, the Patriot Act, and the Iraq War started entirely on lies.

I think about how different things were before 9/11. When my mom would go away on business, we could go right up to her gate to greet her when we got home. In a broader way, there was just this naive view of America. We had "won" the Cold War, and we had the greatest military and the greatest economy in the world. I think we really thought we were untouchable, that war and other fucked up things would always be distant and never really reach us. I understand there was another naivete within myself, too. I was a middle-class white person, and I understand now that how I viewed the world was entirely based on my own circumstances. But also, overall, so many of us just didn't expect something like this to happen. 9/11 really changed our idea of what the world was and what our government should be.

Idk what the point of this post is, maybe just venting. Sometimes, I just want to explain why we reacted the way we did. Sometimes, I just want to relieve the shame I feel at our response. How could I be so naive that it took until the lack of WMDs found in Iraq for me to start questioning things? How much pain did we unleash on the world because we didn't view the world as it was? To me, 9/11 will always be a tragedy for all the innocents killed that day and in response to that day.

#tw 9/11

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robbybarnes · 2 years

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~DUSKWOOD~

(So,this time i'm following a thought i had days ago. I don't know what is going to happen,i don't have a plot. I'm just writing and hoping for the best xD Could be sad,could be happy...i could also stop here xD but i hope not. So,enjoy!)

Hold my Hand

After a year of unsuccessful searches, which led MC and the group to nothing more than tiny clues, they had finally managed to get news on Jake.

In their last moments together,Jake told MC that he needed to run. To hide and be in the shadows for a bit. He told MC he loved her and ran away without looking back. But some time after Richy's death and Hannah's rescue, the FBI finally managed to catch him. The news reached MC thru a message.

"They got him. We need to meet. A."

MC didn't take long to understand who the message was from, what she didn't understand was why the sender was Alan. Did the Duskwood Police Captain, whom they had avoided for so long for obvious reasons, now worried about a "criminal"? Or maybe it was just a trick to catch Jake by taking her as hostage? Whatever the reason, once she read the message she felt anxiety building in her body.

Now she was on a train bound for Duskwood. She had already changed two, trying not to attract too much attention. If Jake had been caught, maybe the FBI was also on her trail, given the bond between them. Maybe she was just giving in to paranoia. In the end she didn't know anything about Jake, she had certainly been by his side to find Hannah, but she didn't know anything about him. Nor why the government was looking for him.

"Duskwood, central station."

The "sensual" voice of the speaker, distorted and robotic, distracted her from her thoughts. She picked up her backpack and, keeping the peak of her cap low, got off the last carriage of the train.

She had never seen Duskwood, exception made for the pictures Jessy had taken for her during that surprise tour. Which saddened her not a little, remembering how Jessy was subsequently attacked by the MWAF. And worst of all was the knowledge that the bastard was none other than Richy.

MC: "Alan I suppose..."

She could not have recognized him in normal situations, they didn't know each other. She promised him, "that" night, to let him have a speech with her. But she didn't keep the promise. Not so nice of her,but the Police Chief have never made it a problem. Alan knew that MC wouldn't deny him a meeting if he asked her again, but after all that had happened, the cop had decided not to press any further.

So now the problem led them to not know each other, but Alan had the good idea of wearing a blu baseball cap with a gold police badge on the front. At least they wouldn't waste time looking for each other in the crowd that occupied the station at that moment.

A: "What got me? The mustaches?"

She smiled awkwardly shaking the hand he was holding out to her.

MC: "In my mind you were really...different..."

And it was true. She had always imagined Alan as a man on his fifty, not too tall, with thin brown eyes and curly hair. Instead, what was in front of her was maybe a 35/40 years old man with light brown hair,cut short, blue eyes and a dirty blond mustache. He had a well-trained physique and he was really, very tall.

A: "...like what?"

MC: "Well...not so tall,to say one. What are you, a giraffe?"

Alan laughed as he loosened their hands and gestured for her to follow him to the parking lot.

A: "I'm not so tall. You are too short, Tic-Tac."

She pouted pretending to be offended, but she found his joke funny. At least that wholesome humor had loosened a little the knot she kept feeling in her stomach.

When they got to the car, MC was a little surprised to see what she thought was Alan's personal car. They would have attracted too much attention with the police car. She walked over to the passenger seat door and before she could open it, Alan did it for her. Not that she didn't appreciate it, but she wasn't used to these gentlemanly things. Before taking her seat she looked at him. He could see the concern in the girl's eyes.

MC: "Wait a moment..."

A: "What?"

MC: "Not that i don't trust you,after all we've been through...but i have to ask. Why you? How is it that you are so close to Ja-"

He jumped when he heard those words and shut her up. He brought the index finger of his right hand to his mouth, mimicking her to be silent.

A: "Not here. Not now. I'll tell you everything once in the safe house."

MC: "...but..."

A: "Please MC, trust me like i trusted you back then. This is not the place, nor the time to talk about 'this' matter."

She had so many questions to ask him. First of all, why they couldn't speak freely? Something was wrong and now that they were in the car, driving around the streets of Duskwood, MC could see that Alan was as taut as a violin string. He kept looking around as he drove, often shifting his gaze to the rearview mirror to check that he was not being followed. Maybe, she thought, the situation was even worse than she thought.

#Hold My Hand #new FF #Duskwood of course!#RobbyBarnes

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darling-in-wonderland · 2 years

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Where we last left off in Part 3, the gang now has a magic carpet, a banged up but bandaged octopus, and one (1) angry gamer covered in perfume downstairs. Their current goal? To get a sample of the virus to craft a cure in the laboratories of Pomefiore.

CW: standard horror movie ones (tension, violence, being hunted, etc), swearing, death mention, anxiety/panic attack mention, lots of blood, virus that makes people violent. Viewer discretion is advised.

Kill Your Darlings

(Part 4)

I stand at the door, knife in hand, the school's resident mob boss and everyone's favorite robot standing off my shoulders. It's stabbin' time.

Idia, sweetie, I'm sorry, but it's for science so you'll understand.

I'm ready for anything that could come our way.

"Okay gang, let's go."

I move the chair back to where i found it in the room just as Idia kicks the door off its hinges.

He starts to growl, "There you are, Azul! And Ortho, too. How wonderful.”

“H-hi, Idia,” Azul stutters, eyes wide.

“You don’t appear to be at the club meeting today,” Idia rasps menacingly. “That’s not very poggers of you.”

“You aren’t at the club meeting either,” I speak up without thinking.

He hones in on me, eyes bloodshot and filled with rage.

He bares his fangs and roars, “So that’s where y-”

I shriek and throw the chair at him. He drops like a bag of rocks.

"Sorry, babe!"

"Darling!" Ortho cries.

"He startled me!" I defend myself. "And he was totally going to kill us."

"Darling does have a point here," Azul sides with me. Ortho rolls his eyes and gently collects the blood sample from his temporarily unconscious brother.

"Prepare the carpet!" I playfully order like I'm a pirate captain. While they do that, I rest a pillow under Idia's head and get a blanket to cover him, taking the time to gently move his now blue hair out of his face and place a tender kiss on his bruising temple.

The tension in his face melts away when he’s asleep. Based on what Ortho’s told me before, this is a rare site to see. Oh, what I’d give to lay down by his side!

"Darling!" Ortho calls to me. "We've got to go!"

"I'll be back with a cure, okay?" I whisper to the unconscious gamer as I grip my injured shoulder. "On this blood I swear it."

I open the window and join Ortho and Azul on the flying carpet. And off we go! We zip through the air back to the main building.

"So, what's the game plan looking like?" I ask Ortho as he pilots.

"Isolate the virus from the sample and then engineer something to kill it from there," he responds. "What that is will depend on what I find upon isolation."

"That makes sense."

I turn back to Azul who has been uncharacteristically quiet.

"Hey," I gently take his hand (the one not attached to the arm Floyd bit). "You okay?"

He takes one look at me before dissolving into sobs like Alka-Seltzer in a glass of water.

I give him hug, both for his sake and mine. He hugs back with his good arm.

He manages to spit out “Today sucks!” in between viscous sobs that hit some deep, forgotten part of my brain, like I’m remember the echo of another life I once led. Which reminds me of one of the most comforting things I could do.

I gently lay Azul down with his head on my lap. I guess this would work better if he didn’t have a heavy ass fish tank digging into my thighs, but hey, it’s not as bad and when Idia dug his nails into my shoulder or when Idia accidentally knocked me down a flight of stairs or even when I got hit in the face with a Spelldrive discus so I’d say I’m doing fine.

I let him hold my arm as I absentmindedly stroke the top of his tank with my other hand.

“It’ll all be over soon,” I try to comfort him. I’ve never been good at finding the right thing to say.

He looks up at me with magnified eyes full of tears, like a puppy begging for treats.

"Aw, don't give me that look," I pout playfully. "I'm not the magic one here."

Azul cracks a smile at that.

"All we have to do is wait for Ortho to formulate the cure, and then everything will be back to normal. Do we have a history test coming up?"

"I'm pretty sure," he responds after some time thinking. "We might be able to get Trein to delay it, though."

"Doubtful."

"Yeah," he sighs. "He's not really one to postpone tests."

"Knowing him, he'll blame us for the virus!" I laugh a bit at the thought.

"And the pressure will be on us big time since we weren't infected."

I do my best Trein impression, "While you were running away from all your bloodthirsty classmates you could have been reading over the study guide."

That manages to get a big laugh out of Azul, which makes me feel better. I beam bright enough to act as a beacon in Minecraft.

Ortho takes us through a more forested part of the external campus in an attempt to stealthily get us closer to a window that'll lead us straight to the hall of mirrors.

"Personne n'échappe à mon regard," suddenly wafts through the woods.

I tense up. Why do I suddenly feel so naked and exposed? Why did I immediately think of the color purple?

"Oh SHIT!" I yell as get my head down as low as possible. An arrow wizzes past right where my head once was. A second later and I would have been dead.

"What's going on back there?!" Ortho asks.

"We've got company!" I reply.

"Ya think it's Rook?" Azul asks, getting ready to magically blow him away.

"Oh, no doubt about it!"

We duck behind some cover to formulate a plan.

"We could fly really fast so that he can't hit us," Azul suggests.

"Too risky," I reply. "Too easy to fall off."

"Fly out of the woods?" Ortho pipes up.

"That's probably our smartest option. He's probably in a tree or something," I hypothesize. "Take us up and out, Ortho."

He launches us up above the trees. As he does, I hear, "Je vais faire un carton."

"Duck!" I yell as I hit the metaphorical deck. Ortho does too. Azul, on the other hand, is just a fraction too slow; an arrow lodges in the back of his tank.

"I've been hit!" he cries.

"Where?!"

"The tank! I'm losing water!"

"Ortho! How fast can you get us to Pomefiore?"

"Fast enough, I hope!" Ortho responds. "There should be tape in Pomefiore!"

"There better be!" Azul replies.

After a minute of fast and crazy flying, the tension in my shoulders finally releases.

"I think we lost them," Azul sighs, arrow still in the back of the tank.

I facepalm when he says that, just as our attacker (that we presume is Rook) cries out, "Rien ne peut plus m'arrêter!" as another arrow flies by. Azul ducks fast enough this time around.

I finally look to see our assailant. I was right. It was Rook. However, I wasn't expecting him to also be on a magic carpet piloted by Jamil.

"Hey Ortho! Ya know "Star Wars?'" I ask as panic rises.

"I know 'Star Rouge!'" he replies.

"Close enough! We're gonna need a ton more evasive maneuvers!"

"On it!" he takes tighter control. "Hang on guys! This ride's about to get a whole lot bumpier!"

As Ortho makes the tightest switchback turns I've ever seen flying transportation do (complete with some tactical aileron rolls), I turn to Azul.

"Think you can disrupt their fly patterns?"

"I mean," he gestures to the tourniquet, and his pen that is currently keeping it stable. "I can sure try."

"Bad, don't like those odds," I say as another arrow gets shot and Jamil cackles.

Something clicks for me. "Ortho!"

"Yeah, Darling?"

"Let me fly!"

"Don't let her fucking drive the carpet!" Jamil and Rook cry out in unison. I guess even while infected, they remembered the time I almost crashed the carpet flying it to the school store with them.

"I'm gonna trust you, Darling!" Ortho states as he passes me the reins.

"Bad call!" Azul cries out in fear.

Now it's my turn to cackle. "Now this is pod racing!"

I take messy, dirty twists and turns in the air. It almost feels like on a rollercoaster some madman built in Rollercoaster Tycoon. I don't think I've ever felt this alive.

"I think I'm gonna be airsick," Azul groans.

I hear Ortho blast off spell after spell. It looks like we might make it to the Hall of Mirrors when I suddenly hear the sound of fabric under extreme friction.

I quickly turn my head, horrified to see Jamil's sadistic right in front of me.

I hear Rook say, "Et voilà!" as Jamil cackles again.

"Shit!" I cry as I bank left and metaphorically put the pedal to the metal.

"If anyone's ruling this school, it sure as hell won't be you, Darling!" Jamil growls as I zip off again.

"Darling, I don't this carpet can go much faster!" Ortho informs me.

"It just needs to go faster than those two!" I cry back, eyes watering from the extreme wind.

"Darling?" Azul croaks.

"What is it buddy?"

"Rook grabbed the arrow in the back of my tank."

"Shit. How fast are we losing water?"

"Really fast!" Ortho answers, panicked.

“Well that’s not good!”

“Tell me about it!” Azul butts in, sloshing some water on me.

“Hang on tight, gang!” I warn them, not because the terrain is getting any more rough, but my capacity to care for their safety has now been cut off. They’re smart. They’ll hang on.

I execute flight tricks I’ve never even executed before in a game. Except Prey, sorta. It was zero grav, does it count? I mean, with my evasive maneuvers, I’m almost replicating the feeling of being out in space. And with arrows still zipping past my head, it almost feels like a Typhon’s on my tail.

“Brace for impact!” I yell as I shield my face before ramming straight through a massive fucking window, Rook and Jamil nowhere to be seen.

“Onward, sailors!” I beam, the light shining at the end of this dark day visible and within my reach as we enter the mirror. “To Pomefiore!”

To Be Continued...

#twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst oc #twst ortho #twst idia #twst azul #twst jamil #twst rook #horror #blood #kill your darlings

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ferallymine · 11 months

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TP: Let Us Be Here

a/n: twilight princess link and iris finally say the words

“I promise it didn’t go to the bone,” Iris held her arm while Link gripped her wrist.

He didn’t respond, instead his jaw tightening in an attempt to force out his anxiety. The bandage roll he tightly wound around the gash in her palm and up her arm took all his focus. Their breaths were visible in this temperature but his seemed more labored- wet cliffsides along Lake Hylia grew surprisingly cold in this night air. The fire in their cave hideout providing moderate light, but mild warmth.

Shad had combined the information the Owls had about the Sky people, leading them to the lake for takeoff. A thunderstorm combined with delayed repairs had unfortunately postponed the heroes’ launch. The stone beneath them gathered water and mud from their soaked supplies and bodies; drenched and torn armor was shed for the night.

Which leads to the current predicament… Prior to finding shelter from the storm, bulblins had surrounded them. Iris hadn’t realized one of the downed bulblins wasn’t dead, which led to a lucky strike. After fixing her wounds, Link promised to mend the tears her armor had gathered.

“Your turn,” Iris flexed her bandage, a smile on her face, “I know the arrow that grazed your shoulder couldn’t have been pleasant.”

He smiled, peeling off his shirt and offering her the bandage roll. She never realized just how many marks, cuts, scars dotted his body like constellations in the night sky. He didn’t have this many when they ventured into Death Mountain. Had the journey been that cruel?

“Not all of them are from battle,” Link began pointing to different scars as if her thoughts were loud enough to hear, “This one’s from the ranch. One of the goats got tangled in a briar bush and thrashed about when I helped it.”

“This one?” Iris tapped his left arm.

“Ah, that’s from one of those plants in Faron. Coro fixed it up when I bought lantern oil.”

“Here?”

“Probably when the Elder grabbed me in the sumo match. There’s a couple more of those on my back.” He shifted for her to see better, “They’re truly tough as stone. Hylian skin’s no match, haha.”

Iris chuckled, removing her shirt to point at a similar set of scarring, “When we got to that room, I remember how tight their grip felt around my arm.”

“You didn’t tell me it made a mark!” He turned, instinctively grabbing her arm.

“I didn’t know about all these scars on you, Mr. Hero.” A playful laugh, “I’m still here, nothing to worry about.”

“I’ll bear any scar if it means you’re safe.” His voice a wavering whisper. Iris noticed that his gaze was no longer on her arm, but on her abdomen. The scar from that attack in the Water Temple still prominently displayed like a badge of honor.

She placed her hand in her lap, an attempt to block it from him, “You shouldn’t have to.”

“It’s so dangerous out there… anything could happen and I… I get thrown back to that day…” His shirt in one hand, the other guiding her touch to his heart, “Feel my scars and callouses. All these remnants of terror and survival still carried on my body, my soul.”

Her breath hitched as her cold hand felt his warmth. His fingers tightened around her hand, as if she’d disappear if he let go. She knew he could take it: the fighting, the adventuring, the survival by grit alone. Didn’t he know she could stand with him in it? What else did she have left to prove after all the battles they’d fought? Didn’t he-

“Feel how my heart beats for you.”

Everything in Iris’ head stopped. He’s scared because he loves you.

“I have loved you since we fought by Kakariko.” Both hands held hers in place, “I know you are so strong, so capable, so kind... I genuinely think I would lose my mind if you died. If you hadn’t turned around right then, I-” He choked, eyes forced shut with tears escaping. “And then back in the temple…”

Both of you should’ve died. “It was scary thinking I’d never see you again.” Iris shifted her hand to interlock their fingers. “I can’t imagine how you felt seeing me there. This journey has been long and difficult. Hopefully it’s over soon.”

A small glimmer of hope for the end. Goddess, how much longer was their sanity required? How much longer could their mental fortitude stand against these repeated assaults? How much longer before their bodies gave out under the swords and attacks of monsters no one should see?

“It’s rough and harsh out there. Tomorrow we need to be heroes again, steeling ourselves for death and blood.” Link kissed Iris’ newly bandaged palm. “I want to be selfish for only one night. I want to forget how to be a survivor and only be warm.”

Iris had a somber sort of love behind her eyes. She moved her hand to his cheek, letting her thumb wipe away the tears. Link let out a breath, melting into her touch, leaning in until their foreheads pressed together.

“In here, for a few hours until daylight, let us be gentle,” His voice was barely a whisper, only for them to hear. He kissed her forehead, “…Kind,” a kiss on her cheek, “…loving.”

Link’s lips hovered over hers for a second before Iris pulled him close. Arms wrapped around her waist, softly pulling her forward until she lay on top of him. Her lips trailed kisses, roaming his face. The noise that escaped his throat when she kissed his neck was heavenly. Another day she would sink her teeth in, leave marks on what was hers. Another day she’d ask him to do the same.

Link held Iris tightly against him, wishing this moment to last. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Her voice like music in his ears.

The dying fire gave just enough light for her to see his bright blue eyes contrasting his flushed face. His chest rose and fell with each attempt to slow his breath. His hand came up, cradling her head against him while he rolled them over.

Please, goddess, delay the sun. Let us be here longer.

No temples. No monsters. No destiny.

Let us be human. Let us be in love.

#iris #TP Link #twilight princess #legend of zelda oc #they're both so stupid #of course you love each other ya idiots #be gentle for one night and remember what its like to love and be loved #put away your swords for one night #they've had many encounters where they shouldve died like that trauma and fear catches up to you

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part One. George: the definition of “hello, have you met my friend?”

warnings: none word count: 1568 (not including pictures) *** Bugsy is Y/n’s username! I got too attached to change it to y/u/n so change it in your mind if you’d like :)

behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist

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Y/n sighed lightly as she set her phone on the desk in front of her. Her eyes traveled back to her monitor, where George was sharing his screen on Discord as he practiced speedruns. Y/n and Sapnap were on call with him to keep him company.

The cold air around her nipped at her skin, sending chills and bringing goosebumps. She pulled her hoodie closer to her body, tucking her feet on her chair to curl herself in a ball.

"This run sucks," George mumbled. "I thought it was going to be good."

"It would have if the village actually had anything useful," Sapnap commented. "There was a lava pool at spawn and everything."

"What do you think, Bugsy? Should I start over?"

She hummed, squinting at the screen. "Yeah, you should."

He left and started a new run.

"Karl's replies on Twitter are always so funny," Sapnap giggled after a few moments of silence. "He's so formal."

"I love that kid. That's my best friend right there, no cap," Y/n said with a smile. She and Karl had been friends for a few years now. They met through their parents being friends and shortly found out the other streamed and quickly bonded over that as their fanbases grew.

"Did you see Wilbur's response to your tweet?" Sapnap asked. "Man wrote you a letter."

"What did the tweets say?" George asked, half-listening as he focused on his run.

Sapnap read them and George laughed through his nose. "How could you ask for a Minecraft boyfriend while you're literally on a call with us while I'm playing Minecraft?"

"Just keeping my options open," Y/n laughed. "Don't worry, I'm wearing a GeorgeNotFound hoodie as we speak."

"I'd be worried, George. There are quite a few proposals in the responses."

"Shut up," Y/n muttered, a smile on her face that she was glad neither of them could see. "George, you remember my roommate is in love with you, right? Don't upset her by being jealous of boys coming after me."

"You're an idiot," George breathed out in a laugh. "No, she's not."

"She is. Very much."

"No, no, she isn't."

"George," Sapnap sighed dramatically. "Just accept that you can be loved."

"You're both idiots, okay?" George laughed awkwardly. "This seed is terrible," he groaned.

"Wait!" Sapnap yelled. "Village on the left!"

George quickly turned and ran towards the village to loot it. Y/n watched with Sapnap as George found iron and a few other valuable things.

"Oh! This might be okay."

"Bugsy?" Sapnap asked slowly, sounding confused.

"Sapnap?" she replied in the same tone.

"Have you not met Quackity?"

"No. What made you ask?"

"I just saw his response to your tweet."

"Why are you two on your phones? I'm speedrunning!"

"Because you still haven't made it to the nether on any of them," Sapnap bit. "How are you best friends with Karl and you haven't you met Quackity?"

"I dunno. I just haven't. There's a lot of people I have only spoken to through Twitter replies."

"Like who?" George asked.

"Why are we only talking about me?" Y/n asked in slight frustration. She wasn't fond of talking about herself because she wasn't used to it. "This is George's stream."

"Well, now I'm really curious so I wanna talk about this," George laughed. "Who haven't you met?"

"I dunno!" she said, flustered. "Quackity, Wilbur, Dream, Tubbo, Tomm-- wait, no I met Tommy. He yelled at me."

"Wait, wait, what?" Sapnap interrupted.

Y/n paused but neither of them said anything. "What?"

"You haven't met Dream?" George asked, sounding equally as confused.

No one said anything. "No? Why is that surprising. I mean, we've joked through tweets and stuff but I've never played with him or actually spoken to him."

"What about DMs and stuff?" George asked.

"Nope. Dream is just thirsty in my replies like Wilbur," she joked, feeling the anxiety of the awkward pauses seep through her skin and touch her bones. Why were they being so weird about it? "Why is that so shocking that a man with, like, 15 million subscribers has never spoken to me?"

Sapnap laughed. "I'm just genuinely surprised that he hasn't reached out to you before."

"Yeah, me too," George agreed. "He talks about you in a way I thought you guys were good friends. And you're friends with us so I just assumed you were friends with him too."

Y/n laughed, nervous at the mention of being talked about. "Well, he must be a pussy or something because I have yet to receive any acknowledgement from Dream Was Taken besides him occasionally replying to my tweets and Instagram pictures."

George laughed suddenly, making Y/n look at the monitor with George's screen quickly, which wasn't moving. "What happened? Did you find something?"

"No," George's screen began moving again and he started building a portal. "Dream just texted me because he's watching the stream."

"What did he say?" Sapnap asked.

"He said, 'can I join the call? I don't want Bugsy to think I'm a pussy'," George answered, lowering his voice to a mumble before adding, "And something else he'd probably kill me if I said out loud."

Sapnap and George laughed at Y/n's silence. She was only joking, not intending to challenge him to talk to her. Honestly, she was relieved he had never spoken to her because he intimidated her. Meeting people made her nervous and Dream was no different. If anything, he was worse because he was a big deal and he kinda flirted with her sometimes, which gave her butterflies in a way she didn't like.

"I'm adding him to call," George announced.

"Wait, you're not going to check if I'm okay with meeting him live in front of 80,000 people?" Y/n asked with a small, nervous laugh.

"No, because it's my stream. I can do what I want. I can't live another second knowing you two have never talked."

"I think Bugsy's scared!" Sapnap coeed.

"I think so too!"

"You wish," Y/n muttered.

A small sound emitted from Discord, notifying everyone that someone joined the voice chat.

"Hello Dreeaamm..." George dragged out as he navigated the nether. "I made it to the nether, Sapnap. Will you get off your phone now?"

"Yeah, I guess. Hi Dream!"

"Hello," Dream said casually. "Hello, Bugsy."

Y/n lowered in her chair more, pulling her hood up and closing it tight over her eyes. No one could see her but his voice made her feel seen.

Sapnap giggled and George laughed. Dream breathed out a laugh. Y/n responded with a small, "Hi."

"Bugsy, you're such a liar!" Sapnap called out. "You are so scared."

"Shut up, Sapnap!" she chuckled.

"Scared of what?" Dream asked innocently.

"Meeting you," George answered. Traitor.

"Forgive me," Y/n started, sitting up in her seat and pulling open her hood to watch George play, "for being nervous to meet Mr. Speedrun in front of a huge live audience." She decided to joke around to hopefully ease the nervousness under her skin. "I'm just worried he's going to flirt with me again and I'll have to embarrass him in front of everyone by rejecting him again."

They all laughed.

"I mean, you already said Karl was in the lead for being your Minecraft boyfriend, so I really have no shot," Dream said.

"As if I'm letting some girl named Bugsy steal my fiance!" Sapnap yelled.

"Ah!" The attention was ripped away from Y/n as George screamed. Y/n looked at the screen, watching as her friend was getting attacked by a hoard of zombie pigmen.

"Why did you hit one, George?" she teased.

"I didn't mean to! AHH!!" he screeched, making everyone laugh. "STOP ATTACKING ME!"

"George!" Dream laughed. "Just run, you won't be able to kill them all!"

"I'm trying!" George fell in lava and screamed again. His death appeared on the screen and Y/n could hear him slam his desk. "That run was so good until the zombie pig came out of nowhere."

He started a new run and it was quiet for a moment before Dream's soft voice spoke again. "Well, Bugsy. I hope you forgive me for taking so long to speak to you."

"I-I was just kidding about you being a pussy," she mumbled, making him laugh.

"No, it's true. I was."

"Come on, Dream, sliding in my DMs is easy," she joked. "You could have if you wanted to."

"Trust us," George laughed, "he wanted to."

"What?" Dream asked George loudly, making Sapnap laugh.

"Dream, you talk about her all the time. George and I were both led to believe you were already friends based on how you talk about her."

"How I talk about her? What does that mean?" Dream sounded defensive and it made Y/n smile.

"You're always like, 'Bugsy did this' and 'Bugsy tweeted that', and 'I have to do a face reveal before Bugsy does because she'll outshine me'," Sapnap teased.

"Okay, the last one? I never said that. You're lying about that."

"But the rest of it is true?" Y/n teased.

"Look, you play good and your tweets are funny! I didn't come on here to get bullied, oh my gosh."

**********

A/N: this is my first time attempting a social media fic so the theme of this series is gonna be ignore the number of likes/retweets and stuff just know that y/n is a much smaller streamer she only gets a lot of likes and stuff when it involves other mcyt ya know okay fun times

Please give feedback!! I hope you enjoy it!!! I don’t have a schedule right now but I might in the future if this series gets a lot of attention :) as of right now i’ll try to update at least once a week!

#real person fiction #rpf #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken x y/n #dream x y/n #dream x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #dream social media fic

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just--another--daydreamer · 3 years

Text

Close to you

» Izuku Midoriya x male reader

» Angst with some fluff » Requested (by anon): I need a fix of desperate, angsty fluff with Izuku. Maybe his hero bf recklessly goes after a villain alone and gets captured, so Pro-hero Deku has to rush to his rescue, scared of what he might find. » Warnings: mentions of religion at the beginning; dissociation; anxiety; overthinking; smoking; emetophobia; descriptions of blood & gore; mentions of death » Words: ~3.5k

You can find a link to my Masterlist etc in my bio and pinned post

Midoriya had never been one to pray to any gods for a wish. To him, it often felt selfish – after all, there were people who needed help more desperately than he did and they should receive it first. Even during his darkest moments, he had never even thought about praying, he had always known that he could rely on his own strength as well as his friends.

However, this time, his hands trembled as he put them together in a manner meant for praying. With his eyes closed and head lowered, Midoriya tried to think of a way to phrase his prayer but no right wording would come to his mind – in the end, he only stared at the dark behind his closed eyelids, incomprehensible thoughts filling his mind.

“Izuku.” A firm grip on his shoulder pulled Midoriya from his thoughts. It caught him off-guard, and he almost prepared himself for an attack before he recognized the person who stood before the bench Midoriya sat on. “Oh Shouto, it’s you!” Midoriya sighed in relief at the sight of his friend. “I’m sorry if I scared you, but the meeting should start very soon, and I didn’t want to miss the chance to talk to you before the others are here.” They were still the only ones in the bright yet depressing hallway of the hero agency that Deku currently worked at, and after taking a quick look at his watch, Midoriya figured that it would still take the other heroes a few minutes to get there. “Sure, what is it?” The light smile that had adorned Todoroki’s lips from when he had just greeted Midoriya vanished again and was replaced by a deep, concerned frown.

“I don’t think you should be leading this mission, Izuku, but someone else should do it,” Todoroki’s voice sounded just as concerned as he looked. “To be frank I would not even want you to participate in this rescue at all, but I don’t think that I could ever stop you from that.” Midoriya took a moment to think about his fellow pro hero’s words. It had already taken him all the self-control he had to not immediately run after you to save you, so he had to be on this mission. Though, he had to admit that due to the personal feelings toward this mission, his judgement might be off, so having someone else lead it would probably put them at an advantage.

“When you’re saying, ‘someone else’, do you mean yourself?” he inquired, and Todoroki nodded in confirmation. Midoriya took a few seconds to consider the proposal. Down the hall, he could hear the rest of the team for the rescue mission approach them. “Alright, let’s do it!”

The small conference room was unusually quiet. There was no happy catching up with one another, no euphoric reunions after not seeing each other for a few months. A pressing silence filled the room like thick, heavy fog as the ex-class 1A students Midoriya, Todoroki, Iida, Kirishima and Uraraka sat around the table, eyes fixed on their hands and the files in front of them. The only words that had been spoken were words of solidarity towards Midoriya, which he appreciated.

While Todoroki opened the meeting by greeting everyone and thanking them for coming, Midoriya stared down at his hands. The skin on his fingertips around the nails was reddened, a side effect of his anxious habit of biting his fingernails. Midoriya thought that he had gotten rid of said habit, but the current situation had changed many things. Before him on the table, his hands started to blur as his eyes filled with tears once again. He quickly wiped them away, hoping that nobody would notice.

Todoroki’s speech only barely reached him, only as a seemingly distant, faint mumbling as though he was speaking to Midoriya through a thick concrete wall. The whole room started feeling like a wide and open space with his former classmates miles and miles away. Mind numbing emptiness filled Midoriya’s heart and went through his veins until it was the only thing he felt in his whole body. As his breathing got faster, his heartrate picked up. Why was he there? Why was he not on his way to get you already? Even though he sat perfectly still, Midoriya felt dizzy, only from the way his mind spun – around and around and around like a carousel, Deku being the only passenger on this horrendous ride.

“You look really pale, Deku, are you alright?” Uraraka’s voice was as soft as ever. The soothing tone was able to momentarily stop Midoriya’s mind. For a second, he looked at her without an answer before simply nodding.

Only when Todoroki asked Midoriya to go over the situation once again, he was completely pulled back into reality. His legs trembled a little as Deku stood up. The eyes of his former classmates all followed his movements very carefully, trying to get clues about their friend’s mental state that the situation caused. Uraraka and Kirishima looked especially worried whereas Todoroki and Iida kept their expressions professional.

“Thank you everyone for coming on such short notice,” Midoriya started. He balled his hands to fists and squeezed as hard as he could to keep his mind from wandering too much that might cause him to break down again. “The villain organization that has been watched by several agencies for the past few months made a move about a week ago, as some of you may know. It was the first incident of that kind and several civilians got hurt in the process.” Deku clearly remembered the pictures of the scene on the news. Neither his nor the hero agency you worked for had been able to stop that despite being the ones watching the organization. “Y/N went after the villains alone and has not been seen since.” His voice got quieter with every word he spoke.

Your actions contradicted what you had learned at UA not so long ago. Staying calm and collected in crises, thinking rationally, and getting help was the priority. But guilt and anger had eaten you up. Midoriya could not blame you for that, even if he wanted to. He had experienced the same feelings in the past, put himself in danger, worried others, all because he wanted to play hero. Midoriya sat down again and let Todoroki take over once again.

“Since we know where the villains are hiding, it will be easy to retrieve the target.” ‘The target’. Midoriya flinched. The way the words came out of Todoroki’s mouth, the lack of emotion and his straight face were something admirable and scary at the same time. Reducing you to merely the word ‘target’ and the emotional disconnect that came with it would probably make this mission easier for Deku, but he just did not manage to think that way. With a sigh, he sank deeper into his chair and listened to Todoroki’s plan.

It was an easy one, starting with negotiations led by Iida. He was the best that that sort of thing, so Midoriya had no problem leaving that to him. However, he was not really fond of the idea of exchanging your life for something like money but since it was the easiest way to avoid direct confrontation, they had to try it. If that did not work, Iida would go in through the front door, and Todoroki, Deku, Kirishima and Uraraka through the back door in two teams to get ‘the target’ out by themselves. Combat was to be avoided. The top priority was getting you out, not arresting the bad guys, though the police would be waiting in front of the building to take them in.

The base of the small villain group was an abandoned warehouse – because of course it would be that. The alley behind it was narrow and dirty, littered with shards of glass and cigarette butts. Next to the dark water in the potholes, Midoriya could see dried as well as fresh blood shimmering on the asphalt. The sight made him sick, a feeling he had not experienced in a while.

The four heroes came to a halt at the place where they would go into the building through the back door. There were no guards, which came as a surprise, but even if there had been some it would not have been a problem for any of them. Midoriya and Todoroki stayed back and inspected the alley while Uraraka and Kirishima got ready at the heavy double-winged door

Midoriya crouched down and inspected the blood stains. Todoroki’s eyes were fixed on him, he could almost physically feel it. With his gloved hand, Midoriya moved some reddened shards around, not entirely sure of what he was doing or why he was doing it in the first place, but it was a way to keep his hands and mind busy. Todoroki had his own ways of doing that. “I thought you quit,” Midoriya remarked. “I thought so too, but-” Todoroki did not care to finish his sentence and only a few seconds later, the smell of cigarette smoke reached Deku. He wrinkled his nose. “The situation is getting to me too, you know?” Todoroki’s pronunciation was a bit curious with the cig between his lips. “The same goes for the others. Kirishima, Uraraka, Iida, they’re all worried. Bakugou, too, even though he isn’t here today.” A short pause. Deku assumed that Todoroki was taking a deep drag. “It is really getting to me.” His voice was quieter this time and it had a tone to it that Deku barely knew from his friend. It was desperate, hopeless, pleading.

Midoriya had no words of affirmation that he could tell Todoroki. Hell, if he could think positively in this situation, everything would be a lot easier. He searched and searched for words, but none would come to his mind. And in the end, he did not need to say anything. Midoriya’s communication device made a static sound, before he heard Iida’s voice, loud and clear. »Negotiations failed. What will be the next step?« “We’re going in,” Todoroki told them without hesitation. “Understood!” Midoriya got back up and was at the door in less than a second. He looked at Uraraka and Kirishima, both had a determined look on their face.

Todoroki stepped to them and – given the lack of a bin – dropped his half-smoked cigarette to the ground. “That’s not very heroic of you, Todoroki,” Kirishima commented. Uraraka giggled and even Midoriya managed to crack a smile. “I’ll pick it up later,” the leader of their mission said and Deku was sure he saw his lips twitch into a fond expression as well, even if it was only for a split second. They all became serious again. “Deku, open the door for us.”

The inside of the building was dark and empty, and Midoriya was not sure why he had expected anything else. His and Uraraka’s footsteps on the wet ground resounded through the empty hallway. It was quite dark, most of the lamps on the walls were either broken or very dim, so the major source of light were the occasional holes in the ceiling. It took Midoriya all the self-control he had not to activate One For All and charge forward – Uraraka and he were a team, and they should stay together since running around alone might be dangerous. The further they got into the building, the harder it got for Midoriya to keep it together. With every door they opened, with every room they inspected, anxiety and terror grew withing him. There was no sign of you.

It did not take long for some villains to show up, but at this point in time they were no match for Deku. Anyone who tried to get in his way right now was put down in mere seconds. Uraraka kept his back free and had an eye on him in case he got too reckless.

The last door he approached was a pain to open. Midoriya had to push it with his shoulder since the hinges were rusty and it took him a few tries until the door finally budged and creaked open. Behind the door, Midoriya was met with a pitch-black room. He reached over to the wall besides the entrance and searched for a light switch. A single light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered on, only giving enough light for Midoriya to see the rough shapes of the room’s interior, but it slowly started glowing brighter. That was when his heart stopped.

For a split second, Midoriya thought that maybe he had come too late, that maybe you were already dead. The sight of you, tied to a chair with ropes so tight that they were cutting into the flesh on your wrists and ankles sent shivers up and down his spine. Blood dripping down from your chin had already formed a small pool on the already wet floor. He noticed the smell of blood, sweat and vomit still fresh and heavy in the air.

“Y/N?” His voice was merely a whisper. Maybe he was afraid that if he were loud enough for you to hear, you would not react. Midoriya forced himself to take a step. Lift his foot off the ground, move it onwards, put it down again. Now with his other foot. Lift, onwards, down. And again. With every step, a new wave of sensations and feelings washed over Midoriya. First it was disgust – he could not help that one but looking at your skin peeling off your flesh and exposing the bare muscle tissue and bone almost made him vomit. Then it was hysteria – Midoriya could both laugh and cry out loud until he lost his voice, kiss you on your dead cold bloody lips, dance and jump through this awful room – because he finally found you but what if it were too late? Then it was fear – and with this feeling numbing his mind once again, he reached you.

“Y/N?” He crouched down so his face was on one level with yours. The dull sound of Midoriya’s gloves falling to the ground echoed through the room, to him it was almost as loud as an explosion. As he held his breath, his now bare hand reached out for you almost all on its own, touched your neck, searched for a pulse. To Midoriya’s relief, your skin was not cold, but warm. Maybe even a bit too warm. His hand wandered up your neck and he cupped your cheek, wiped away some blood with his thumb. Under his touch, your muscles twitched. Midoriya pulled back and watched as your eyes fluttered open. Your gaze was empty and unfocused for a while, wandering from the dark walls of the room to the lightbulb over your head, until it stopped on Midoriya’s face.

He watched as your eyes widened. “Izuku?” Your voice was hoarse and filled with so much desperation that it made the hero’s heart drop. “Is it really you?” Midoriya nodded. He pressed his lips together and did not dare to answer, afraid that his voice would break if he said anything. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You made an attempt to reach out for him but the restraints around your wrists made that impossible. Midoriya swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to stay focused. “And I’ve been looking for you. I’ll get you out of here now.” Over the comms, he quickly informed his teammates over the mission’s success before he reached into his pocket for a knife. “I’m sorry that I’m so late,” he told you as he cut through the ropes. They were sticky, some even slippery from the blood. Deku tried not to pay too much attention to that but the sight of the crimson red shimmering on his hands made him gag. “The most important thing is that you’re here now.” You cracked a smile, but it did not look too convincing.

Once your hands were free, you swiftly wrapped your arms around Midoriya. It took him by surprise, but he hugged you back, careful not to use too much strength that might hurt you. You buried your face deep in Midoriya’s chest, fingers digging into his back, clinging to his suit. Just now he felt the way your body trembled, Midoriya did not know if it was exhaustion or fear. Maybe he was shaking as well. He wanted to stay like this forever, feel you in his arms, warm and alive, hold onto this thought and only this one while ignoring the horrible reality. Blood wet Midoriya’s clothes but he had nothing to take care of your wounds with. To be honest, he did not want to look at them. All he wanted was to keep holding on to you, forever.

Fighting noises reached his ears, not too far away. Men yelling. Your grip tightened a little and Midoriya thought that maybe you were shaking a little more now. “I want to leave, Izuku,” you whispered. Midoriya did not say anything. He listened carefully as the noises faded away. A few seconds of pressing silence passed awfully slow. »We’re all clear!« Todoroki’s voice was calm but Midoriya heard a hint of relief. However, he decided to stay put for a few more minutes to make sure that no other people were picking a fight anywhere else.

“Let’s go,” he said after a while. He could not spend another minute in this building, afraid that you might end up dying from your injuries.

As gently as he possibly could, Midoriya lifted you from the chair and carried you out of the building.

Talking to the police and the press was a pain. Todoroki did most of it, given that he had been the leader of this mission, but Deku still had to talk to everyone as well. Press conferences with countless questions, some challenging their beliefs and morals as heroes, some too personal for Midoriya to answer – questions about you, your wellbeing, your relationship to the hero Deku. When he was not currently being interrogated by the public, Midoriya spent every free minute in the hospital, by your side. At first the doctors had not let him see you, but he had still stayed there the entire time. And when he was finally allowed in your room, Midoriya could not contain himself and his emotions any longer.

He sobbed and cried and swore and apologized all in one go without taking a breath while you tried to calm him down. He held your hand the entire time he was there, afraid that if he let go off you for one second, some villains might separate the two of you again.

“When are you getting released from the hospital?” Uraraka questioned while she put a small bouquet into a vase on the windowsill. The blossoms shone in the golden light of the evening sun and threw dancing shadows on your white blanket. “Next week, probably.” You gave her a tired smile. “Though I’ll have to be inactive for a while during my healing process.” Midoriya knew that having to neglect your hero duties like that was hard for you, so he squeezed your hand reassuringly. “We’re all wishing you well!” “Thanks Uraraka!” The two of you watched as the young woman left again. She was not the only one who had visited. The whole team had been there, Todoroki visited frequently, and even Bakugou had showed up once or twice.

“This sucks, I’m so bored!” You whined, getting a short chuckle from Midoriya. “I know, but you need some more rest.” He looked down at your intertwined fingers. Your wrists were still covered in bandages but some of your wounds had started to heal again. However, it would still take quite a while for you to fully recover. Midoriya ran his thumb over the fabric. “You’ll get better soon, and I’ll always be here to support you during this time. I miss you at home and being close to you.” “Thank you. And I miss that too.” A soft smile formed on your lips, so Midoriya leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on them. He lingered there for a moment before standing up and grabbing his jacket. “I should get going, it’s late and you need your rest.” “Alright!”

Midoriya slipped into his jacket but before he could leave, you sat up, grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled him down into another kiss. “Hey, you’re supposed to lay dow-” Midoriya started to complain but quickly quit to return the kiss. When you let him go and Midoriya walked towards the door he had a smile on his face. Everything was going to be fine. He turned around by the door and looked at the flowers and the curtain moving in the wind. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” “See you tomorrow, Izuku!”

#midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x male reader #midoriya izuku x male reader #deku x male reader #izuku midoriya #midoriya #deku #x reader #x you #x male reader #x yn #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x male reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader

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awkwxrdapple · 3 years

Text

Fallen Angel (Part 2) - Peter Parker x reader

PART 1

Request reminder: Hi! I love your writing! I was hoping you could do a peter x reader where the reader gets badly hurt and captured and it takes a long time for the avengers and peter to find her and once they do, she is scared half to death, jumpy, nervous, and stays by Peter’s side during pretty much everything. They are living in the avengers tower with everyone and since they are the youngest, Peter is particularly protective of her during her recovery. Thank you!

Word count: 1.5k

WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, light torture, injury, trauma (after reading if you think I should include any others please let me know thank you)

Part 2

The hours that had passed felt like months. Soon you had lost track of how long you thought you had been strapped to a chair in that room, and with every physical injury you felt your resolve falter more and more.

You would never give them what they wanted - that you were sure of. So unfortunately for you, whoever was holding you was getting more impatient and frustrated, taking it out on you even more to try and get what they wanted. You hoped maybe they would give up after it was obvious you wouldn't crack, but they didn't seem to think so.

They could see they were breaking you on the outside. Little did they know you were not utterly terrified. Every sound in the room made you jump, and every touch made you flinch so hard the ropes holding you cut into your skin. You were a mess, both inside and out. But you still wouldn't give them what they wanted.

Dropping down in front of you like he had done before the beating began, the first man who spoke to you sighed and held your chin to force you to look at him.

"Y/N I hate to keep asking but you really give me no choice."

He used the back of his hand to slap you harshly across the cheek. Any other day that wouldn't have phased you that much, but due to the already existing wounds put there by either him or one of his other men, it stung and brought more tears to your eyes.

"N-no." You wept. You were now openly crying but you didn't care. All that mattered is that they didn't get what they wanted. You wouldn't give them any information about the Avengers.

The man's annoyance was growing even more that before. It terrified you. You knew they needed you alive but they could still do many things to you before you died.

You thought about Peter, about your best friend, and somehow that gave you more strength to hang on. Would he be out there looking for you? Would they even have any way to find you? You hoped with every fibre of your broken body that Peter was on his way to help you. You even hated being apart from him for this long.

"I really do hate doing this to you Y/N…"

You hated that he kept using your first name like you were old friends.

No you don't. You thought, before a punch was directed at your gut.

+ + +

Once Peter had suited up he paced nervously waiting for Tony to get into the Iron Man armour. Nat had caught onto the situation and was joining the both of them on your rescue mission. Nobody knew why or who had wanted to kidnap you. They hadn't received a message requesting a ransom for your return, so it was clear a more sinister plot was at play.

Upon arriving at the old warehouse that your phone signal was coming from, the trio split up to try and cover more ground. If you were inside the building, it would then be a faster process to find you and get you out. Alive.

Peter was the one to find you.

You became worried when you heard shouting and loud thumps from outside the door. The noises started to make you shake with fear and soon you were crying softly again.

There was a few moments of complete silence before the door was kicked in, flying completely off its hinges and into the room narrowly missing you.

It was almost as if your luck had completely changed and you sobbed audibly upon seeing him.

There was one other man in the room with you who went for his gun as soon as he spotted the red and blue, but Peter was quicker. He disarmed the man swiftly and carefully and sent an elbow to his face cleanly knocking him out.

"Y/N!" Peter's astonishment at your appearance was coupled with relief and something else you couldn't quite place. For a moment you thought it was anger. Was he angry at you? Had you caused so much disruption that he was angry at you?

"Tony, Nat!" Peter also called out through his comms unit and soon the two Avengers ran into the room too.

Tony cut and removed your bonds and let Peter move in closer to you so your body could fall into his. He used a spare hand to rip his mask off so you could look at him properly. His soft brown eyes were full of concern. You sagged into him further as you had no more energy left to hold yourself up.

"Hey Y/N stay with me, ok baby. Stay with me."

Baby.

The endearment was lost on you as you were falling in and out of consciousness. The darkness of the room wasn't helping your extreme fatigue and shock. Even though you were being rescued, you were still terrified.

In the corner of your eye you could see another man in black come into the room but Nat dealt with him. For a second you felt a shriek of fear nearly come out of you but as you saw his limp body fall to the ground it was lost.

Peter's strong but gentle arms were wrapped around your body as he lifted to you up swiftly to his chest. You could hear sobs, which after a few seconds you realised were your own. Hearing these, Peter hugged you even closer to him and you instinctively moved closer into his embrace. This was the closest feeling to being safe that you had felt since you had been taken.

He was warm, and smelt of home. Quickly your sobs turned from fear to relief.

"Ok, let's get her out of here." Peter commanded.

Tony and Nat went in front of Peter and led the way through the also dimly lit corridors. When you reached the door that let into outside, you had to squint from the brightness and turn your face further into Peter. There was noise outside too, too much of it. Cars were bustling up and down the street.

"Did you find out anything about them?" Nat asked Tony, slightly out of breath from running.

"No, all of their software was encrypted so well that even I couldn't hack it."

Nat sighed. Your safety and wellbeing was a bigger concern at the moment though. They needed to get you back to the Tower as soon as they could and get you checked over. Just one quick glance at you would make any one aware of your fragile state.

Peter was still whispering encouragement to you as you gripped onto him.

“You're safe now Y/N."

"I've got you."

"Stay with me, we're going home."

"You are so strong Y/N."

Soon though, you couldn't hold onto consciousness, and you fell asleep exhausted in Peter's arms.

+ + +

A steady beeping woke you up.

You could tell you were back in the Tower, everything was cleaner, whiter, lighter. Your head hurt, everywhere hurt if you thought about it long enough, but you also felt strangely numb. There was an IV drip linked to your left arm, and two other nodes tapped into your chest to measure your heart rate.

Even though you knew you were safe, there was still that lingering adrenaline. Something that still had you on edge. You knew you weren't held captive for very long, regardless of however long it felt, but it didn't matter. The damage had been done.

Starting to feel yourself panicking again, remembering all of the physical abuse you had been put through, the beeping quickly became closer together, seeming louder. This in turn created more panic as the noise fed your anxiety.

In the next moment Tony and Peter rushed into the room. In your panic you were struggling to breathe. You were having a panic attack.

You tried to sit up and reach for Peter who had moved to you. This movement pulled the IV from your arm.

"Help me!" You managed to get out. You couldn't even tell him what you needed physical help from. You were safe now. But you couldn't get out of your head everything that had happened to you.

"Y/N, I promise you that you are safe." Peter took hold of your hands and let you squeeze as hard as you needed to.

Peter and Tony shared a look because of your distress. There was no way Tony would be able to get the IV back into you as you were now shaking uncontrollably.

"Don't worry Y/N this will allow you to sleep." Tony said gently.

You felt yourself nodding, before once again, drifting off.

Tag list: @unmistakablyunknown @oxodianaoxo @tazishereforu @lovely-blackinnon @bibliophilewednesday @fuckingalohomora-bitch

If you would like to be in the tag list for part 3 or any of my other Peter Parker imagines please let me know!

Masterlist

#fallen angel #peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x y/n #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #storyofavengers

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 15

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: mentions of panic attack, mentions of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Would you like to explain to me why you’re here?”

“I think you already know why I’m here.”

Your therapist eyed you annoyingly at the bitter response. After your little episode during sex, Bucky had finally put his foot down. He realized you clearly weren’t getting anywhere on your own and he wasn’t the most equipped to give you the care you needed, so he set up a therapy appointment for you.

The therapist was under the same practice as Bucky’s own but he made it very clear you two couldn’t see the same doctor. You’d never admit it, but you were thankful for that. You couldn’t imagine sitting across from the woman who Bucky also dumped his trauma onto.

So, that was how, after some intense back and forth with Bucky, you ended up in front of a therapist you couldn’t remember the name of. It was pathetic, really, but in your defiance, you hadn’t learned her name. As if that somehow kept you disconnected from the whole process. At best, you knew her name started with a G and that’s all you were going to go off of.

“Sure,” Dr. G shrugged and glanced at your file. “I know what happened to you but why are you here? What made you want to see someone?”

You sighed. “It was just time.”

“Why?”

You slammed your hand on the side of the couch in frustration. It had been this weird back and forth for the last ten minutes. Honestly, you were hoping you could just drain the time but this doctor wasn’t giving either of you the luxury.

“What would you like me to say, huh?” You spat out, a new kind of anger springing within you. The dam wall had broken. “Do you want to hear about how for almost my entire life I haven’t been able to escape the nightmares of my soulmate? Or about how I get one little moment of peace with him and then it all goes to absolute shit? Because that’s just how the cookie fucking crumbles, isn’t it?” You bit your lip, holding back from the sob rising in your burning throat. But you certainly weren’t done. You forced on, “Maybe you’d like to listen to me ramble on about how my own goddamn apartment feels like a prison. Or how I can’t even have sex with my soulmate because everything, every little fucking thing, reminds me of that night. And it’s not just enough to remember it, I guess. Huge shoutout to whatever kind of soulmate bond this is.” You paused. “I was barely gone for two days and somehow it hurt me, it damaged me. But, really, it shouldn’t have, right? It was nothing compared to-,” Him. His experiences. Your words got stuck as you gasped, letting the sadness roll over you. The tears were flowing freely now.

You just didn’t understand. You didn’t understand your reaction to any of this. You were barely touched, never even experimented on yet you couldn’t seem to actually escape it. You were flinching at touches. Backing out of sex. Not to mention the images of Bucky. Real images, no longer just dreams, but almost like your memories came into play. You were forced to be stuck in a tragic playback of that time. Over and over, every night, and you were to move on? Yet how does all of this come about from being gone for a few hours? You felt there was maybe more to this all and anxiety gnawed at you about it.

Your therapist sighed and placed your file on her side table. She leaned forward, hands clasped together. “Trauma is trauma, no matter how small or insignificant your brain thinks it is.” She passed you a tissue which you accepted.

You dabbed your eyes. “It’s just not fair,” you mumbled. “I finally found him and now I fear I’m ruining it.”

“You aren’t ruining it,” the therapist insisted. “You went through something catastrophic and your mind is reacting. It’s beyond justified. Don’t you think he, out of everyone else in this world, understands that?”

You gave a pathetic shrug knowing she’s completely correct. But that wasn’t how this was supposed to work. You should’ve been his rock, right?

“Well,” Dr. G sighed as she leaned back in her seat, “I think he understands and you have no reason to beat yourself up over it. You aren’t responsible for any of it. You’re just responsible for recovering and, sorry to say, that isn’t exactly done overnight.”

You scoffed. “Well, where does it begin?”

“Talking,” she said. “Brainstorming. Shooting the shit. Whatever you want to call it, just find a way to let it out of here.” Dr. G motioned towards her heart. You felt your own pounding.

***

Bucky was right where you had left him sitting in one of the chairs in the corner of the waiting room. He didn’t notice you at first as he was engrossed in some technology magazine. You couldn’t help but notice how interested yet relaxed he was. He really did have a bit of a nerdy side to him.

“What’s so fascinating?” You asked, taking a seat next to him. He jumped a little at your sudden appearance. You held back a chuckle, finding it quite amusing you could surprise the ex-assassin.

Bucky looked back at the magazine and shrugged. “Some new tiny cameras this company in Europe developed. Smaller than your pinky yet has the quality of a full-fledged camera, or so they claim.”

You smiled at his light skepticism. For a man that was easily wowed by the world he sure was hesitant to indulge in it - hence the flip phone he still kept insisted on.

With a sigh, Bucky closed the magazine and placed it back on the table. He looked towards you again and asked, “How did it go?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to talk about it, but that also sort of beat the purpose of getting guidance from a therapist. She emphasized that communication was a major key - for both of you. You didn’t want to dismiss that advice right away but you also didn’t exactly want to make your soulmate more concerned than he already was. He had insisted on coming with you to this appointment despite being confined to the waiting room. Bucky didn’t mind, clearly overshadowed by the worry showcased on his face.

“I have to tell you a few things if you’d like to accompany me back home.”

“Home?” He frowned. “Home as in-,”

You shook your head. “My apartment.”

Wordlessly, Bucky stood and outstretched his hand towards you. You mustered up a smile the best you could, letting him guide you out of the building and onto the city sidewalk.

For as many concerns as you had running through you, you were finding some new sense of pride walking down the street with Bucky. Your soulmate. You had felt something there beyond it all.

How many times had you walked these streets simply letting your gaze wander about hoping to just spot him? And then you didn’t even find him in the most conventional way.

But you had to remind yourself of that hopeful gazing you partook in for many weeks. All you had to go off of was his actions. His violent, albeit unwilling, actions. And yet, in all that, you still wanted to meet him. Wanted to hear his voice and maybe get a peek into what he may be like. You certainly got way more than you had bargained for. And you wanted to keep it. Maybe you had been forgetting that in your worries of ruining it. These worries stemmed from wanting. You just had to remind yourself.

You two had been lost in your own worlds. You were quite surprised by how quickly you had arrived at your apartment building. Everything outside of it was the same like the world had just stood still. You dropped Bucky’s hand and began fumbling for your keys. He kept a protective arm around your waist, trying to offer some comfort for the daunting task.

After a shaky moment, you led him inside and up the stairs where your apartment door sat, seemingly untouched. You knew that wasn’t exactly the case. Agents had been in and out of your apartment upon your disappearance, Bucky had explained, but they must’ve been stealthy ones. It looked like every other door.

And, really, that’s all it was, you told yourself. It’s just a door. It’s a first step, your therapist had claimed, but it was also just a door. You had wrestled with yourself over this concept for a while now and here it was in front of you.

“You don’t have to do this.” Bucky’s voice broke your concentration. “You’re more than welcome at the compound. No one would blame you if you - you wanted to stay.”

“I know,” you sighed. “Thank you but I don’t want to wallow in it.”

Bucky didn’t say anything more and just nodded his head once in understanding. Taking a deep breath, you unlocked the door and flung it open.

You didn’t know what you were expecting. Part of you was ready to be ambushed by Hydra men. Another part of you thought the place would be a wasteland. But neither of those was the case. It was just...normal. It looked exactly how you remember leaving it in all its worn-down glory. Relief washed over you.

You walked in as you had a million times before and threw your bag on the couch. You headed straight for the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge. Bucky didn’t comment on anything and just took a seat on your couch, waiting.

Making your back to the couch, you offered Bucky water but he declined. Amazingly, you floated around the apartment with no worries. It felt like you never left while also felt like you were reclaiming.

You took a seat next to Bucky, keeping some space between your bodies.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” Bucky suddenly asked. You glanced back at him nervously. If he was at all anxious, he sure wasn’t showing it. Damn that assassin mentality.

“That nightmares have come back,” you admitted. The words landed like a million little bombs around the apartment. Bucky leaned back on the couch, his eyes wide with concern.

“What?” It was all he seemed able to manage to say.

You shifted on the couch uncomfortably, mentally working up the courage to continue on. “It all started back up after that… that night,” you explained. “I-I was suddenly seeing you fighting those men. I was seeing pretty much into your brain, feeling all that anger and relentless rage.” You paused. “I couldn’t believe it, really. I hadn’t had a single nightmare ever since we got together and now...it’s like a million steps back and I don’t know how to fix it. The doctor suggested talking and that’s what I want, Buck. You can’t turn away. Not right now.”

Bucky wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead taking strong interest in picking at your couch cushion. He seemed quite uncomfortable, which was beyond understandable, but he also had to have heard your pleas.

“Y-You see all that?” He finally asked, his voice just barely above a whisper. “Just on a playback loop? Despite us being connected, really connected.”

You didn’t know what to do besides nod in confirmation. Bucky let out a deep sigh.

“And this, on top of everything else, hasn’t been helping you to recover, has it?”

You shook your head. Bucky now looked like he wanted to put his fist through your door. Tears welled in his eyes.

“Of course not,” Bucky mumbled. “I-I thought it was supposed to get better.”

“Me too,” you admitted. “I didn’t tell the therapist this but I… Well, I fear there’s something faulty with this bond.”

The thought had initially popped in your head out of nowhere. One night you were half-awake, already witnessing the shine of Bucky’s arm as his hand contracted around the goon’s throat, when you began trying to think about the good memories. The reader Bucky you got to see. How lovely that was to bring up. How the conversation that followed was refreshing, fun. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything like that up again because you lost them. It took a bit for your theory to prove certain but once it was, you realized, you were stuck.

But you also hadn’t exactly wanted to act on this theory, figuring this could be handled on your own. Date night proved wrong.

Bucky eyed you, curiously. “What do you mean?”

“It’s very challenging to recover from something when it’s the only thing you’re reminded of, right? Well, that’s the case, nightly. Despite how serious we are in this relationship, it’s cutting through, even though it seemed like in the beginning…” Your words trailed, a bit unsure. You changed the focus. “The memories and thoughts are still transmitted disturbing reminders. I can talk about it until I’m blue in the face, but I just don’t think that’s all there is to it. The bond isn’t letting me move on regardless of our circumstances. Everything you saw...”

Your soulmate nodded in his attempt to understand where this was going. You even had to admit, it was sounding a bit bizarre. You did think it was just trauma and in many ways, it is. It all comes back to the trauma derived from the situation but to have to relive it through your soulmate’s eyes. To have to see him personally killing someone was just… It was a whole new level of memories. You were personally attached to them. You weren’t just living through it in some fucked up metaphorical way - you actually had lived it. Besides - it shouldn’t be this way.

“You think we need to see someone about it,” Bucky concluded.

Hesitantly, you confirmed his suspicions. “Are there really doctors who study it? I've heard rumors but I’ve never seen someone.” Thinking of it now, you never knew why you didn’t. Probably because those who studied soulmate bonds were truly myths. There wasn’t exactly anything tangible to study. Who was going to waste their time?

Bucky shrugged. “I think I may know someone.”

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justnerdthings · 3 years

Text

New Beginnings Ch. 3

Female reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

Wow, guys. Thanks so much for all your kind words, favorites, reblogs, and follows! I didn't think this fic would do well. But I'm glad I was wrong!

Someone had asked about being added to a tag list for updates. I'm certainly willing to add one! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future updates. I'll try and make sure I get everyone.

Without further ado, here's the much requested chapter 3!

You didn't sleep worth a damn that night. Not only was your anxiety running wild, but it gave you nightmares of being killed in fights your subconscious conjured up by remembering what Raiden told you about Mortal Kombat.

That… And this wasn't your bed.

You managed to fall asleep early into the morning.

A harsh knock banged on your door. You nearly jumped out of your skin as it woke you. Wide-eyed, you sat straight up in your bed and watched the door as if it was about to attack you.

Another harsh knock startled you. Quickly you got to your feet and answered the door. Kung Lao stood in front of you, an impatient look on his face. A large black, brimmed hat was on his head… was it made of metal? "Put on a gi," he ordered.

Your brows bunched.

One of his brows rose quizzically.

"What?" You said. You could feel how dry your throat was. God, you needed a drink.

Lao inhaled sharply. With a nod he gestured vaguely for you to step back. You did, and he stepped past you to the wooden chest at the foot of your bed. With a swift kick the top swung open. You stepped over to look inside and saw a small selection of clothes, very plain, but similar to Lao's and Liu's that you remembered. There was also a long, simple gown that you guessed was for sleeping. That would have been nice to know about last night. Lao reached in and pulled out a gi. He tossed it on your bed. "That is a gi," he told you, turning his attention back to you. "Put this on, then step outside into the hall. I'm training you this morning."

You brushed a hand through your hair and realized it was a mess. Bed head. Your fingers tried combing out the knots as you looked at him. "When's breakfast?" You asked. Really. Food sounded good. You hardly ate last night.

"After your morning training," Lao said.

"Why after?"

"Because it is. Wake up. Train first. Then breakfast. Then train again. Lunch. Train. Dinner," he listed off. "After dinner you can do whatever you like, but you'd be wise to rest up. You're going to be sore."

Your jaw hurt as it clenched. "Everyday?"

"Everyday."

"Even weekends?"

"Everyday," he repeated sternly.

You almost groaned.

"Unless you'd rather give up and go home?" He mocked.

God, would you. Home sounded great.

But you were needed here. Raiden needed your help to fight Shang Tsung. Sure, you were useless right now. And sure, he gave you a choice to not be involved, but Raiden had been able to paint a very real picture of what Earth would be like if Shang won Mortal Kombat just one more time… Earth would be destroyed. Everything gone. You. Your home. Everyone.

"No," you said. "No, Raiden wants my help… Can't exactly tell a god ‘no.’" Was that defeat in your tone?

"Good. Now change," Lao said as he turned and stepped out of your room, closing the door behind him.

It only took you a minute to get changed. The gi felt strange. You weren’t used to such loose clothing, but you did like that it let your body breathe. Stepping out into the hall, you saw Lao leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked you up and down, then nodded in approval before turning and walking down the hall. You followed, but kept your distance.

“Can I get something to drink?” You decided to ask after a moment of silence.

“We’ll have water there,” He said, glancing back at you.

“Is Liu going to be there?” You asked.

“Already don’t like me?” Lao asked.

“He’s just not an asshole to me,” you quipped, and immediately regretted it as Lao stopped in his tracks. Goosebumps covered your arms and neck.

“I’ve been called worse,” He simply said and continued walking.

A relieved breath escaped you. You saw that going differently in your head. You expected some shouting. But he just… accepted it.

The rest of the walk was in silence as he led you to an open area, sand covering the ground, pillars to the left and right. An array of training dummies and tools were placed around the sand. This was a fighting arena, you realized. And it had a view...

You slowed your pace. Oh no. Not a view. And this one didn’t have any sort of railing. It just dropped off! Oooh fuck this, you thought and stepped back even though the ledge was about a hundred feet away.

“Come here!” Lao called over as he stood in the center of the arena.

You didn’t move. Moving to him would put you closer to the ledge. No way.

But he grew impatient again. His voice raised and it echoed through the ravine. "COME. HERE!"

Those goosebumps came back. Hesitating, you slowly made your way over to him.

"Good. Sit."

You did. Right in the sand. Lao took his hat off and swung it down. You jumped as he made a deep line in the sand not even an inch from you. The sound of metal grating the sand sent a shiver through you.

"This is Lord Raiden’s arena. Each day you will step closer to that ledge," he said, not having to point to it. "You will learn to meditate and control your fear until you can sit on that edge comfortably."

Oh no.

"Are you ready?” He asked.

“No…”

“Good.” It was like he heard you say ‘yes’ instead. You groaned and he slipped his hat back on his head and secured the strap under his chin. “Sit with your legs crossed. Like Buddah.”

You moved your legs, sitting as you knew ‘criss-cross applesauce,’ but Buddah style did sound more mature.

“Close your eyes, straighten your back, and rest your hands on your knees.”

You did, but felt him close in on you, then his hand on your shoulder. Goosebumps again. A knot in your stomach. Grip firm, he pulled you back slightly, straightening you out more. You opened one eye to glance up at him, seeing a focused look to his eyes as he critiqued your posture silently. His eyes then shifted to your open one.

“Close your eyes,” he repeated. That impatient tone returned.

You did. You felt him step away.

“What do you see?”

“What?” Your eyes were closed. You saw nothing! What kind of question was—

“What do you see?”

“Nothing,” You said in annoyance.

“Do you see the ledge?”

You hesitated. “No.”

“It’s about seventy feet away from you.”

Your jaw stiffened.

“The drop is miles deep.”

Your fingers curled into your knees.

“If you'd fall off, you’d die.”

You took a shaky breath as panic began building in the pit of your stomach. That’s when you remembered you didn’t have your anxiety medication here… wherever here was.

“These are facts. There is nothing you can do about them.”

Now came that helpless feeling.

“Relax.”

You couldn’t. The images of the ravine, the ledge, and you falling to your death were flashing in your mind.

“Relax,” Lao repeated and you could feel him come closer again.

“I can’t,” You admitted.

“You can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Stop thinking about it.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” Your tone became defiant. You could feel a presence circle you slowly.

“Focus on the sand under you. The wind as it blows around you. My voice. You are not falling. You are sitting on the ground. Safe.”

You tried. You really did. But the ledge had its grip on your attention.

“What are you doing?”

“Freaking out…”

“What are you doing?”

You hesitated. “Sitting in the sand.”

“Are you falling?”

“No.”

“Are you going to fall?”

“No.”

“Breathe.”

You took a hard, deep breath.

“Feel the air fill your lungs then leave as you slowly exhale. Feel your chest expand and contract. Focus on what’s real.”

You took another breath, and did your best to breathe out slowly. It still shook.

“Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

You took another breath. You kept taking breaths. You kept trying to focus on the air and your chest, and not the death trap this arena was with an open ledge into the ravine. Would you even feel it when you hit the bottom? Or would you die in mid-fall?

Lao tapped your shoulder. “Focus.” He must have noticed. You weren’t sure how long it’d been. You’d gotten tapped, reminded, and straightened several times. But by now, your breath wasn’t shaking anymore. You could swear your lungs had grown. Your breaths were deeper as you fought to focus. You could even feel the heat of the rising sun kiss your face and arms. Eventually, the ledge faded away from your mind and Kung Lao told you to stop.

“Open your eyes.”

You did. A blue-ish hue tinted the world as your eyes adjusted to the light.

“Relax.”

You let your back slouch again and stretched your fingers out.

“How do you feel?”

“Stiff.” You cracked your knuckles and rolled your shoulders and neck.

“Get up. Stretch.”

You rose to your feet and rubbed your face. Turning around to face him, you stretched your arms behind your head. He was sitting on the steps leading to the sand pit, leaning back against a pillar, very much relaxed as he watched you. You had been out here in the middle of the arena all by yourself. For how long, you weren’t sure. Turning back around, you looked out at the ravine.

“Scared?” Lao asked, not moving from the steps.

Weirdly, not so much. “Not as much…”

“Good. Tomorrow morning you will be a step closer. We’ll do this again.”

“Until I’m out there…” You looked at the very edge and imagined sitting there, knees almost hanging off the ledge, alone… What if a strong wind blew you over? What if he tried to straighten you up but accidentally pushed you? Oh, there was that panic again. You turned away, breath starting to shake again as you hurried towards the safety of the steps.

Lao had watched you. He noticed your breath shake again even from several feet away. You’d almost thrown yourself into another panic. “Breathe,” he coached. “You got a while before you’re there.”

You nodded. He was right. He’d said you were about seventy feet from the edge. If you only took a step closer each day, that meant it was about sixty days away. Give or take. Okay. Two months. Two months sounded do-able. You pulled your shoulders back tight. Your upper spine cracked and popped with tension. You’d feel better once you got away from here.

“Thirsty?”

You looked over to him and he pointed up the stairs. Following his gesture, you found a clay pitcher and cups on a table. You’d forgotten just how thirsty you were, and now your throat felt sore.

After climbing the steps, you poured yourself some water and felt it rush all the way down to your empty stomach.

“You’re horrible at meditation,” Lao said, breaking the silence.

You looked back at him.

He just grinned at you.

You rolled your eyes and turned away. Of course you were horrible at it. It was your first time and you were in the middle of a panic attack. Breakfast. Finally. Lao sat in his usual spot at the table. You sat across from him and looked at the array of food already set out. It was mostly vegetables and proteins… though no actual meat. Right, you thought. Monks. Monks were vegetarians weren’t they? Well… At least there were some eggs. You reached for the simple white rice to start off your plate.

“Take it easy on the rice,” Lao ordered, which made you look up to him with confusion. “Focus on vegetables and protein. You need to get into shape.”

Did he just call you fat? You glared at him, but it did nothing to move the critical look from his face. With an annoyed sigh, you slid some of the rice off your plate and back into the bowl. You looked back to him, as if to ask for some much unwanted approval. He nodded. You then filled your plate with vegetables and poached eggs. You didn’t care much for tofu or beans, so you ignored them.

“I’d kill for some pancakes,” you unknowingly whispered under your breath.

“If you kill Shang Tsung, I’ll get you all the pancakes you want,” Lao said, jarring you.

“Oh... Didn’t mean to say that out loud,” You admitted sheepishly.

“Offer still stands.”

You glanced to him and couldn’t help the grin that pulled your lips. Hearing the door open, your smile faded and you turned to look behind you. Liu Kang had walked in, flushed, face and arms glistening with sweat. He offered you a smile before sitting next to you.

“Good morning,” He said, not wasting time in filling his plate.

“‘Morning,” You greeted and watched him fill his plate with rice and beans. A bit of vegetables.

You looked back to Lao with furrowed brows. How come Liu could eat all the carbs?

Lao noticed your fuss. He pointed his chopsticks at Liu, but looked at you. “He needs the energy.”

Liu, lost, looked up, then to you, then back to Lao.

“I told her to take it easy on the rice,” Lao explained.

“Ah,” Liu nodded. The gentleman that he was, he didn’t comment on your weight, but you felt it. Okay, you weren’t in the best shape. You didn’t have the six or eight packs you figured they had. But you weren’t fat… Right?

You looked down at your stomach, hidden under the baggy gi, and folded an arm over it tightly in a futile effort to hide it.

“Being a nurse, I’d think you’d know about nutrition,” Lao judged, mouth full.

You huffed. You got it. You were fat. Okay. Shut up, Lao. “Being a nurse, I hardly have the time to cook for myself,” You defended.

“Lucky for you, you don’t have to cook here. The monks will. Shouldn’t be an issue anymore. No excuses,” Lao said.

“Yeah… Lucky me,” You said, still annoyed. You began to eat, starting with the vegetables.

Liu, again being the saint he was, had decided to change the subject. “How was morning meditation?”

When you didn’t say anything, Lao answered for you. “Fine.”

That caught you off guard. Fine? He told you you were horrible!

“Really?” Liu’s interest was piqued.

“Her posture needs work, and her mind isn’t yet disciplined enough. But she did fine.”

“That’s great.” Liu looked to you.

You bit your tongue, but couldn’t hold it. “You said I was horrible,” you said to Lao.

Lao grinned and filled his mouth with food.

What was this? A give and take? Or take and give? Tell you you’re horrible, then say you were fine?

“I’m sure he was only kidding,” Liu suggested.

“Was I?” Lao questioned with an inflection, which earned him a stern look from Liu. Lao’s grin only grew.

Liu sighed in accepted defeat. “How did you sleep, Y/N?”

“Awful,” you answered quickly.

“Oh?” Liu frowned.

“Yeah.”

“Anxiety?” Liu asked.

You nodded. “And nightmares. And it wasn’t my bed. Always takes me a while to get used to a new bed.”

“Well, yesterday must have been stressful enough,” Liu reasoned.

“Bit of an understatement,” You mumbled before filling your mouth.

“Did you decide if you were going to stay?”

Lao answered before you could swallow. “She’s staying.”

Liu looked so relieved to hear that, but looked back to you for confirmation. “Is that true?”

You nodded.

A smile came to his face, the smile you liked. So sincere. So real. “Thank you.”

You looked to your food. You didn't feel much like talking anymore as thoughts raced through your mind. Now it was concrete. You were staying. You were crazy, but you were staying. Liu was training you now. This was a different arena. It had a view, but the walls were high enough that you didn’t mind. Still sand on the ground, it looked like a smaller version of the colosseum… but without the thousands of seats surrounding you, and more oblong. A huge statue of Raiden sat off to the side, just outside the arena, in a fighting stance seeming to watch your every move. On the other side, some other statue, ready to fight Raiden. You quickly realised they were two parts of a monument. Some fight that had happened. Who won, you wondered.

“Time to test your might,” Liu said.

“What?” you turned away from the statues to look at him.

“Have you ever had lessons in self defense?”

“Uh. No. Not really. Remember? No experience.”

He nodded and walked over to you. So you were starting at square one. He could handle that. “Try and hit me,” He told you.

“What? No.” You stared at him as if he was crazy.

“The best way to learn is to practice. And the best way for me to gauge just what you can do is for you to try and hit me.”

“I’m not going to hit you, Liu.”

“And what do you intend to do when Mortal Kombat begins?”

Okay. You had to admit. He had you there. You wouldn’t be much use if you couldn’t fight. You sighed in your defeat and looked him over. He took no particular stance. He just stood there, eyes locked on you.

Okay. You could do this. Not like you could hurt him. You doubted you could hit that hard anyway. Without much warning, you swung a fist. Unsurprising, he dodged it easily. You swung again. He dodged. You tried a kick. He blocked. You still weren’t surprised, but after a few more attempts, you were getting annoyed.

“I can’t hit you if you keep moving,” You hissed.

“Do you expect Shang Tsung’s fighters to just stand still and let you hit them?”

Again, he had a point. You kept trying. You kept failing.

“Keep going,” Liu coached gently as he gracefully dodged your futile attacks.

You took turns pushing each other across the sand pit. You would push him to one end, then he would take the offensive, and you would dodge, backing you up to the other end. You knew he wasn’t really trying, he hadn’t even broken a sweat while you were sure you dripping. Eventually you stopped. You walked away and gave him a ‘time-out’ sign as you leaned back against a wall. Heavy breath after heavy breath came out of you. You really were out of shape. Fuck it. You gestured your forfeit vaguely as Liu walked towards you.

“Not bad,” He offered.

A single, exhausted, “Ha!” escaped you. Yeah right. You were awful.

“You’ll get better.”

“Maybe in a hundred years,” you only half joked.

“If you stay determined,” He joked back. It earned him another laugh from you and he smiled in that small victory. “Between myself and Lao, you’ll be in shape within a few months.”

“If you two don’t kill me in the process.” Again, only a half joke.

“I assure you, we will not kill you,” He said, that sincerity in his voice. “However, you may feel as though we have.” That wasn’t a joke.

You groaned. You already felt that. “Can I just go back to meditating? I can handle that.”

“I think you deserve a small rest. We can meditate until your breathing comes down,” He’d accepted and gracefully fell to the sand. His legs went into the Buddah-like position, but instead of his hands on his knees, he held one up as if to pray and the other gripped the prayer beads that hung from his wrist.

You slid down the wall and positioned your legs. Your hands went to your knees, and you leaned on them. Liu didn’t seem to mind that your posture wasn’t correct, and you were thankful for it. You just allowed yourself to relax and closed your eyes.

Alright, you thought. You remembered what Lao had told you only a few hours earlier. Focus on what’s real. The sand. The wind. The air in your lungs. Breathe. And you did. You focused on all of it… Which quickly backfired.

Okay. Focus on one thing. You focused on the air. It was so dry. It was dry earlier too, but you’d forgotten during breakfast. Were you in a desert? The Sahara? Would explain the quietness of the place. And come to think of it, you hadn’t even seen a plane in the sky since you got here. Where did the water you’d been drinking come from? It had to come from somewhere. The ground? Maybe there was a well here. Where? But wait, you had a bathroom in your room. It didn’t have a tub or shower, but the toilet and sink did work. Was there plumbing? There had to be if the sink and toilet worked.

“Your mind is wandering,” Liu said softly, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah,” You answered, keeping your eyes closed. You straightened up. “Sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?” He asked curiously.

“Nothing. It’s fine. Sorry.”

“Tell me,” he pushed gently.

You breathed a laugh nervously. Well, if he insisted... “Just wondering if there was plumbing in this place.”

Liu didn’t say anything for a good minute, which prompted a knot to build in your stomach. God, you were stupid.

Then you heard a soft laugh. You opened your eyes to see Liu chuckling to himself. That knot melted away along with some tension in your shoulders. You smiled, then shared in the laugh. @miss-nori85

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #liu kang #kung lao #raiden #reader insert #fanfic #fic #reader x character #ludi lin #max huang #tadanobu asano #new beginnings

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softieteez · 3 years

Text

backstory

warning: death, cancer, drinking, mental abuse, some physical abuse, cussing, crying, anxiety attacks, suicidal thoughts, child neglect

genre: angst

summary: before ivy even got to her teen years, things were more difficult than most adults lives. from losing her dad, to experiencing neglect.

a/n: ivy’s story is pretty deep. feel free to skip this post if you are triggered by anything listed. also i’ll be using her birth name a lot throughout this story.

languages: normal = english. italic = korean

olivia min was born june 4, 2001 in michigan. she is the youngest of three siblings. miya, the oldest, was born february 20, 1997. and austin, the middle child, was born august 4, 1999.

growing up, olivia had an amazing relationship with her family members. her parents were always really supportive of anything she wanted to do. and her siblings, were annoying, but they all love each other so much. the family was pretty middle class, maybe more upper middle class. they had enough money to buy nice things and go on trips, which was nice and it gave the kids experiences they’d always remember.

when she was a baby, the families friend jax, had given her the nickname ‘ivy.’ the name stuck with him and eventually spread to friends at school. but her family members always called her olivia or jisoo, her korean name.

in school she was a social butterfly, running around recess practically collecting friends like they were collectors items. and because of her loving nature, no one could say no. she’s also very smart, she’s always had straight a’s and was usually willing to participate in class. teacher would say she was a sweet and smart little girl, and of course she could make the class burst into giggles at any second.

olivia started dancing at the young age of 4 when her parents enrolled her into dance classes. there, she met new friends and became one of the best youth dancers in their town.

her grandparents lived in ohio, which meant a lot of the times they would travel there for the holidays. olivia had a friend named aggy that lived there.

aggy lived next door to ivy’s grandparents. she was diagnosed with leukemia only five months before meeting the family, this was when ivy was maybe 7 years old.

through the years, ivy excelled in everything from piano lessons that she started when she was 5, to even cooking. she was a cheerful and happy little girl. until she reached age 9 when her dad was diagnosed with lung cancer.

this was a huge reality hit. she didn’t really understand it though, her dad was healthy. until he wasn’t. she remembers that day so clearly

“where’s mom and dad?” olivia asked walking into the kitchen and seeing her sister sitting next to their sleeping brother on the couch

“hospital, grandma and grandpa will be here in a few hours. for now our neighbors are gonna look after us”

“hospital? but why?” the little girl tilted her head

“i don’t know olivia. go back to sleep it’s early” miya did know, she saw her dad getting worse and worse as the months went on. but the last thing anyone wanted to do was worry anymore people. especially austin and olivia.

“okay…” she responded and went back toward her bedroom.

a few hours later she woke up to her grandma shaking her awake “wake up olivia. grandpa and i brought lunch.” the elderly woman spoke

olivia smiled at her grandmother as she sat up and stretched. the girl walked to the kitchen.

she still remembers all the yummy food her grandparents made, now knowing it was out of grief. later that night was when her parents revealed the truth to the kids.

and suddenly her whole world collapsed.

she would miss dance class and sometimes even school because her father would be in the hospital. because her mom and dad were always gone, she and her other siblings were expected to help around the house. occasionally with their grandparent by their side.

when she turned 10, she didn’t have much of a birthday blow out. and her present was some nail polish because that was all her family could afford at the time. when she turned 11, they spent her birthday in the hospital. her dads condition became so much worse that he wasn’t able to leave the hospital.

“i’m sorry you have to spend your birthday like this livvy” her dad held her had. his skin was paler than usual. colder too.

“it’s okay dad, i’m just happy we’re all here” she smiled as she held back tears. but her dad knew she wanted to cry.

“me and your mom got you something” he smiled and looked at his wife. the woman smiled sadly and reach in her purse to pull out a small purple box.

olivia grabbed the box from her mothers hand and opened it slowly. a beautiful butterfly necklace was revealed.

“it took a little while for us to find the perfect one” her moms sniffled. “we wanted you to love it”

thinking back on that moment. ivy now understood they wanted it to be special because it would be the last gift she would ever receive from her father.

“thank you mommy. thank you daddy” she whispered and pecked her dads forehead.

sadly, on june 29, her father passed away in the middle of the night. for some reason, her brain blocks this moment out. it’s all a blur.

her and her sister were sleeping on the little couch the nurses had set up and her brother was laying on the sleeping bag he had brought on the floor. it happened so suddenly. she woke up to her mom hysterically crying and weeping.

her brother and sister were frantic as nurses guided them three of them out of the room. but she does remember the last look she had at her dad.

he didn’t look real, more like a painting. or a sculpture maybe. his skin was practically white and his body was lifeless.

her whole family was in a depression, especially her mom. after losing her husband, she started drinking to numb the pain.

her grandparents left ohio and went back to korea completely unannounced. it was up to miya and austin to take care of themselves, each other, and of course olivia.

after a month of her fathers passing. the family had got a call from aggy’s mom informing them that aggy passed away july 25. so now she lost her dad and her best friend. along with that her mom isn’t stable enough to take care of her and her siblings, and her grandparents were m.i.a.

when she turned 12, that’s when her moms drinking got worse. she was living off of beer and tv dinners. she was also now mentally abusive toward her children.

austin became the child that started work. he would work late at night and then go to school all day. he was responsible for the families income at age 14.

miya was rarely ever home as well, but she was gone to escape their mom. she would rebel, hang out with her boyfriend, who ivy later found out was physically abusive.

then ivy was the kid that did the chores. she would also clean the neighbors houses to help pay her dance fees. the neighbors would always feel bad so they’d usually give her $30 for each chore she did. that was barely enough though.

and somehow, none of their friends ever noticed anything. except for austin’s, he’s always shut down plans to work and was overly tired all the time. but the friends did start noticing behavior changes

ivy became really depressed and spent most of her days just waiting for them to end.

the family got some income from the bank after the fathers passing. the kids were all in his will, earning $114k each. but they wouldn’t receive that until age 18.

around this time, ivy got into contact with her grandparent. begging day after day to move their and live out her dream of being an idol. her siblings would even call and beg the grandparents to let her, not wanting her to experience this life anymore.

after months of begging, her grandparents finally agreed to move her out to korea. she had already submitted audition videos to big companies like sm, jyp, yg, bighit etc.

she was 13 when she was officially moved into korea. she lived with her grandma and grandpa for a month before moving into the jyp dorms. she trained there for a year before being sent off to audition for produce 101.

during this time, she experienced great stress. her anxiety and depression led to suicidal thoughts and almost had to leave the show because of it. many fans who were supporting her throughout the show noticed her getting skinnier and skinnier by the episode.

somi, who became her best friend instantly, was also worried for her. ivy felt bad that she was worrying people. but she couldn’t help it, her mind controlled her. her thoughts were always telling her to do something. she would practice all the time and forget to eat.

somi would often watch after her to make sure she would at least eat a bagel and drink water everyday.

it wasn’t long before ivy would share her story, only parts of it publicly. her story reached american headlines, meaning her family and friends had seen it.

she was struggling for years. and it was only recently when she found inner happiness. she worked hard during produce, and didn’t win. and of course, she left jyp and moved to kq where she met her life long friends.

her boys have helped her so much, they were there to listen to her story, to hug her when she cried.

those are her boys, her family. her home.

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sekceesimps · 3 years

Text

A Rose Made of Chains Ch 1

a/n Thanks for the 50 followers everyone! Keep sending us feedback and requests.

As promised here is chapter 1. Monday (tomorrow) night I’ll be publishing chapter 2 and then chapter 3 on Tuesday night. More info shortly but when we hit another milestone I’ll be publishing chapters 4-6.

Once again, thank you so much for the support! We never thought that we’d get this much appreciation from everyone. Hope you enjoy!

sincerely,

Coffee

Teaser Ch 2 Ch 3

teaser for part 2, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7

Kurapika (aged up) x Reader x Chrollo

Soulmate AU where you can find your soulmate through matching soulmarks.

Chapter 1

The rocking of the dingy boat made it hard for you to stand, but you did so nonetheless. Bitter water and a nervous type of air had taken over your senses. Your determination to get to the exam had forced you to ignore the wobbling of your legs ad you pushed yourself even further to get to the wheelhouse. When you had finally reached it, you noticed a small kid and two others also struggling to stay on their feet as the storm raged on. You had smiled queasily at the tall man with glasses. You don’t remember much during that moment, at least, not until the blonde passenger began a passionate speech. You tuned most of it out until you saw those glowing scarlet eyes, filled with fiery rage and fervor. Those eyes that haunt your dreams and still stick with you even now. You remember looking deep into that vermillion and knowing exactly who the blonde was in that moment. After his dramatic reveal, you yourself had quietly taken out your contacts and looked at him with a matching passion. In that moment, the two of you knew you were destined to be together, two survivors on the hunt for vengeance.

»»————-　　————-««

The exam itself wasn’t too rough for you. You and the blonde Kurta, who had later told you that his name was Kurapika, had shared stories as you ran together through the first phase with ease. You had learned that he had been the lone survivor of the massacre. He listened intently when you informed him that you weren’t fully part of the clan, but rather that your father had been and you were raised to be a hunter with your mother far away from the Lukso Province. At that time, you were still hesitant to tell him about your home life, wanting to only listen to him and memorize how he looked in case he was also taken from you. You had always believed yourself to be unlucky for inheriting the scarlet eyes. You had viewed it as a mark of death and a hideous trait from your father, as it had been drilled into your head for the past five years. You had confided in Kurapika about this self hatred, sobbing softly at the thought of you and your family being hunted down for them. You hoped these words wouldn't be intense enough for him to leave you too. When the both of you had reached the end of the tunnel, he had pulled you in close and told you that nothing was more important to him than protecting you, the last member of his clan. You remember how passionate he was with this promise, nuzzling his face into your hair. The rose surrounded by chains inked onto his wrist, the one that was also on your body, had gone unnoticed by you.

»»————-　　————-««

The second phase of the exam was when you truly began bonding with Kurapika’s companions. Your initial wariness, that his friends had initially interpreted as aloofness, began fading away as you took on a more helpful role for them, a role which would later turn into a sisterly one. After the examiner had let you all loose in the forest, you had quickly joined up again with the blonde Kurta, while also going with the people who were on the boat with you. The green haired boy named Gon and the tall man named Leorio stuck close as you led them through the foggy swamp. Through your trek, you had learned more about who they were and in that time you vowed to yourself that you would protect the young boy and try to help him on his quest to becoming a hunter. His demeanor and passion was something you admired and wished to see more of. You remember how in that trek, your small party had come across the magician named Hisoka that Kurapika had initially told you to be wary of before the exam had even started. You were all crouching and watching as the red haired man ruthlessly slaughtered a capable group of examinees. The rest of what happened was a little blurry to you, but you remember your anger when the magician had smirked at you and told you how ravishing you looked and in that moment you had chosen to fight. It had ended rather quickly, his combat skills were much better than you could have ever imagined. Somehow he had still managed to flirt with you while you and Gon tried to attack. You attributed your flushed red face to the fight rather than some of the steamy words he had whispered before tossing you to the ground. Hisoka had easily taken out Leorio but happily said that your group had passed, whatever that meant. The atmosphere was uncomfortable to say the least as you and your companion continued on your way. You and Gon successfully met up again with Kurapika and Gon’s white haired friend from the first phase. Kurapika had quietly asked if you were okay as he tended to a minor wound on your arm. You fondly remember the concentration on his face as you reassured him of your safety, no one you had ever met showed you this type of warmth before. That moment was when you had realized that you cared deeply for him.

»»————-　　————-««

The rest of the exam had been fairly unmemorable. There was a whole struggle with the gourmet hunters, but you had powered through with Kurapika at your side, as usual. The third phase was unfortunately when you and your new friends had gotten separated. The five of you had lined up on the tiles at the top of trick tower and jumped in. You didn’t know what happened to your companions, but you recognized the urgency of passing the phase and went down the dark hallway alone. You recall the surprise of meeting up with Hisoka during the test, teaming up to brave the last part of the tower together. The two of you ended up successfully being the first and second people to pass, with days left to spare. As the hours passed with you and the magician wordlessly sitting together in silence, you couldn’t help but think of what Kurapika and the rest of the boys were doing right now. Your anxiety only increased when other examinees continued coming through and the blonde was still nowhere in sight.

“Darling, what’s got you looking so stressed. Your eyebrows are too crinkled,” Hisoka had interrupted your endlessly running fearful thoughts about 50 hours into the exam. You only sighed and ignored him. “You know, we make an incredible team. I’d love to truly fight you one day. You have this certain aura that I would just love to break” he continued and licked his lips, looking down on you with eyes of pure malice.

“I’ve got a delicious idea that could tire you out easily,” the man grinned with mischief and scooted closer to you. You glared at him in response, frantically trying to push him away. He chuckles at your pitiful attempt, but leaves you be for now.

“Thanks for the concern, I guess. I’m just tired and I can’t seem to fall asleep.” you mumbled and fiddled with your hands. You wished that Kurapika were with you, his presence somehow always filled you with ease.

It was down to the wire, when your hope ran out and you had accepted that your companions would not pass this phase. Sighing you went to Hisoka for a conversation, at this point he was the only person you knew since everybody else around you filled you with uncertainty. It was at that moment that your four companions and some other guy burst into the clearing at the last possible second. You grinned and waved at Kurapika, but he wasn’t looking at you. Instead, he was glaring daggers at Hisoka, who had put his hand on your waist when you hadn’t noticed. You shrugged him off and gave the blonde teen the warmest of smiles. You hoped that it made his heart melt, he had seemed cold after you two had been seperated.

»»————-　　————-««

Zevil Island was unbearably hot. The whole area was much too warm for your liking. It was almost off putting how hot it was, a sharp contrast to the freezing cold demeanors of your fellow examinees. As you got off the boat, Gon had smiled and congratulated you on coming in second. This meant that you were one of the first to get off the boat and begin the trial. Kurapika looked far away as you had told him how you planned to stick by his side this time. He nodded solemnly as you told him that you would be off first so you would find him when he started. You had hidden in a tree and waited hours for him to finally get there. You remember grinning and how that instantly put him in a less tense position after you had jumped down and surprised him. You hoped that his ease with you was a sign that he cared about you too. Fortunately, neither of you had a target you knew, so you had both got your buttons fairly quickly, the two of you truly being excellent partners. The rest of the test was spent helping Leorio again, as the two of you powered through together, back to your friendly dynamic. You treasured how he said he wouldn’t let you out of his sight again. With that phase over, and all of you at rest before the final phase, you saw it fit to bring up soulmates with Kurapika.

“Kurapika! How are you.” You caught him as he was pacing the area in front of his room.

“Huh? Oh, hey Y/N,” he had grinned with surprise at seeing you, “do you want to go on a walk with me?” His invitation made your cheeks flush red, but you gave an enthusiastic yes and followed him. You talked about meaningless things like music taste at first, then your ambitions, your thoughts on the future, and then finally you brought up the one subject you were anxious about covering. You were beginning to have a suspicion that the blonde was your soulmate. The two of you had just gotten along so perfectly. It seemed like fate intervening when you two had met on that boat and he had revealed his identity. You hoped that it would be him who you’d spend your life with. He was so intelligent and calm. Not to mention, also incredibly attractive. You weren’t too sure how to ask him if he had a soulmate. Your own soulmark was inked onto your thigh, a place that made it hard for others to be able to identify you as their own soulmate. The placement made it much easier to pass off as someone without a soulmate. It was common for people not to have a soulmate now. In fact, it was also a common occurrence for people to lose their soulmate and then their mark would disappear. There were also terrible people in this world who would leave their soulmates, not everyone had a happily ever after and you were especially aware of this, your own parents being a soulmate couple that split up. The concept of a soulmate was once incredibly appealing to you as you grew up, but the more pain you saw in the world the more you gave up on the dream of a perfect partner determined by fate. Yet you silently prayed to whatever God that was listening for his mark to be a blooming rose being wrapped up by heavy chains.

“So, what are your thoughts about soulmates?” you inquired casually. He looked at you with a slightly surprised smile before answering,

“I think it’s definitely an interesting concept. I want to find someone one day. The idea of a person matching and completing my soul is so fulfilling. But it would be too much of a danger for me to have a soulmate right now. I want to meet them later, after I’ve done what I need to do. I just can’t have them be with me, it wouldn’t be fair to them,” he stated seriously, “what about you?” Those few words promptly break your heart. If you were his soulmate, you promised yourself in that instance to hold strong and wait for him. His heart is too heavy right now to take on the burden of you.

You sit next to him in silence for a bit, unsure of how to answer him, so instead you ask “What’s your soulmark,” breaking the awkwardness. He smiles and shows his wrist to you. In sharp contrast to his pale skin you see black and red marking his left wrist. A crimson rose encased in black chains, it matches yours perfectly. Your stomach drops. You don’t want to seem suspicious so you run your fingers lightly over his delicate skin and smile, you compliment the design and tell him how lucky he is.

“Y/N, can I see your soulmark” he had asked so sweetly and looked at you with the soft smoky eyes you had begun to love.

“I actually don’t have one,” you grin, trying to hide your pained words. It hurt you more than anything to lie to him, to have to see his small amount of joy dissipate. It’s all for the best you think to yourself. Someone as perfect as him shouldn’t have to weigh himself down with someone like me. You smile softly again and change the topic before wishing him a goodnight.

»»————-　　————-««

Passing the hunter exam and gaining your license didn’t fill you with as much excitement as you expected it to. You felt bad for Gon, seeing as his friend didn’t pass. You liked the green haired boy quite a bit and wanted to help him the best you could. So when your soulmate said that he was going to go off on his own and earn money for the auction, you decided in that moment that it was time for you two to part. You wanted to help Gon find Killua and you needed some time without Kurapika so that you could think of your own future. You told him this but not without a vow to see him again.

“I promise that I’ll see you again” you declared with angry resolve. Kurapika smiles softly and places a light kiss on your forehead. You sigh and interlocked your fingers with his for one last time.

“As do I,” he replied, backing away and waving to you and your travel companions. You were going to fight tooth and nail to see him again in York New City.

»»————-　　————-««

Icy water splashed across your frail sleeping form. You sharply gasp as the frigid splash wakes you from your dreams about the past. You don’t know how long you’ve been here or even where you are. You let out another sharp yelp in pain when a blade as quick as light rips the skin on your barely healed cheek apart. It always starts like this. A man comes in and jolts you awake, then he reopens the wounds from when they took you, before implementing some new form of injury. The last form of torture is always expected in your day and you weren’t sure in the first few sessions, but in all of them the same dark figure stood behind in the shadows. Watching but never saying anything. You were in agony at the end of every day, but your decisiveness remained the same each time. At the end of these sessions your torturer would ask if you wanted to join his group, you would let out a snarky reply saying no, then he would leave you in darkness for several days before coming back and starting it all over again. However, your resolve was becoming shorter and shorter with each passing day. You didn’t know if your friends even knew you were here. You were starting to believe that no one was coming to save you, no happy ending in sight. All you want is to see your blonde soulmate one last time. The dark quickly closes in again as the door closes shut, leaving you to your dream like state again.

a/n Chrollo in the next chapter, I promise. Please leave some feedback, as this is my first chapter fic. Anyways hope you enjoyed, Ch 2 out tomorrow!

~Happy Holidays!~

#kurapika #kurapika x reade #angst #smut #dub con #chrollo #chrollo x reader #x reader smut #soulmate au #kurapika x reader #soulmark #hisoka #hisoka x reader #fem!reader #kurta!reader #hunter x hunter #hxh #fluff

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96thdayofrage · 2 years

Text

“The way she reacted to me talking to her, I felt like she would have been so bubbly and spicy at the same time, and I couldn’t wait for it,” Lowe recalls. “I always wanted a little girl.”

Lowe, who had her first child, a son, at 17, says she had few role models for good parenting growing up. But she says being a mom gave her a confidence and determination she’d never felt before.

“It just gave me the strength, it gave me the courage — it gave me everything,” she says.

This new pregnancy was different from her first. She had to switch doctors — and hospitals — midway through, because her original obstetrician was based at United Medical Center. The public hospital in Southeast does not provide care for pregnant women after 20 weeks, after an investigation surrounding the deaths of women and babies at the hospital led D.C. regulators to suspend obstetrics and newborn services in 2017.

But, even as she began going to a new doctor at George Washington University Hospital, Lowe also started to receive support from a birth worker at Mamatoto Village, a nonprofit in D.C. that provides perinatal care, doula services, and advocacy for mostly low-income women of color and their families. Lowe says that support gave her an important sense of stability as the pregnancy progressed.

But then, one day three weeks shy of her due date in May 2018, she realized she didn’t feel Miamor kicking anymore. And when she went to her next doctor’s appointment at George Washington Medical Faculty Associates, she got devastating news: Her baby was dead.

She remembers few details from the moment: the lab tech struggling to find the baby’s heartbeat on a sonogram machine. The numbness that settled over her as clinical staff told her that Miamor was gone. Her own desperate, unspoken prayers.

“In my mind, [I’m] like ‘Lord, please don’t let this happen. Just let my baby wake up,’” Lowe recalls.

Medical staff said she’d need to walk across the street to the George Washington University Hospital emergency room and tell them what had happened, Lowe recalls. She says no one accompanied her or called ahead to alert the ER staff. She went by herself.

“So that was the most blinding walk I ever had in my life,” she remembers. “I barely could see … I can’t remember if I cried.”

At the hospital, Lowe says she waited five hours before doctors induced her labor. She was determined to avoid a C-section, though medical staff kept trying to convince her otherwise, particularly since she’d had one in her first pregnancy.

“Why would I want a C-section if I can’t take my baby home? Why would I have that battle scar if I can’t have my baby?” Lowe says.

Lowe has dealt with anxiety, panic attacks, and post-traumatic stress disorder after the whole experience, which she believes is a result of racist assumptions about Black women’s pain and grief. Lowe, who currently works as a medical administrative assistant, says medical providers who are not actively combatting their unconscious or conscious bias are in breach of the Hippocratic Oath.

“If you took the Hippocratic Oath and you’re using bias, you’re actually not using it. You’re going against it,” she says.

A George Washington University spokesperson expressed condolences to Lowe and her family, and said the Medical Faculty Associates were reviewing their current standard practices for how to respond to pregnancy loss.

“We are deeply saddened to hear about the loss of any pregnancy,” the spokesperson said in an email. “In these situations, we do follow a uniform set of protocols when communicating with or responding to our patients who have experienced the loss of a pregnancy.”

“We are looking into this situation and examining our current guidelines,” the email concluded.

Lowe is far from alone in her trauma.

D.C. mothers of all races experience higher rates of infant mortality and neonatal mortality than the national average. Just over 5 babies in D.C. per 1,000 live births die in the first 27 days of life, compared to less than 4 nationally. In the first year of life, almost 8 in 1,000 D.C.-born babies die, compared to less than 6 across the country. More mothers die in D.C. on average than nationally, too: 35.6 per 100,000 women in D.C. die of causes related to childbirth, compared to 29.6 nationally. For Black Washingtonians, the rate is double the D.C. average. Black women in D.C. also experience preterm birth at higher rates, and many deliver low birthweight babies, according to 2019 data from United Health Foundation.

The disparate outcomes have drawn the attention of members of the D.C. Council and Mayor Muriel Bowser, who set up a Maternal Mortality Review Committee to study the issue in 2018. Most recently, the council approved a number of initiatives aimed at supporting pregnant Black women in the District as part of the 2022 budget process. The list includes directing the D.C. Medicaid plan to begin reimbursing doula services starting in October 2022; and funding to cover rideshare and public transit costs for women going to medical visits, starting this month. The Council also acted in 2020 to license and regulate midwives in the District, and to extend postpartum health-care benefits to at least a year after childbirth.

Bowser has spoken out on the issue. Her administration hosts an annual Maternal and Infant Health Summit, as part of its Thrive By Five initiative.

“It’s about taking on the systems that put Black and brown women at greater risk before, during, and after pregnancy,” she said in opening remarks at this year’s convening. “And now we face a new challenge: We know that the systems and structures that perpetuate inequalities and disparities in health outcomes have been exacerbated by the pandemic, and that women, particularly women of color have been hit hardest both personally and professionally.”

But advocates say Bowser and other District leaders haven’t gone nearly far enough to fix the systems of oppression that feed into bad pregnancy outcomes.

“Black women have historically been disinvested in, historically have been experiencing the brunt of racism,” says Aza Nedhari, a midwife and the co-founder of Mamatoto Village, a collective of Black birth workers in Northeast D.C.

“There’s only three grocery stores east of the river,” she continues. “People have to beg the council, they have to beg their city — that they pay taxes to — to provide basic necessities for them. And so to me, the maternal health issue is just one piece of a multitude of issues that are happening with people in this city.”

These systemic problems have a human cost, and people like Lowe and her baby Miamor have to bear it. Black women across the District say they’ve personally experienced how racism plays out in pregnancy and perinatal care. They say they’ve confronted racism in exam rooms, passed around stories of trauma from mothers, aunts, sisters and friends — and they’ve feared for their lives during what many feel should be a beautiful and transformative time in a woman’s life.

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jelly-pies · 3 years

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Dancing From Now On

Read on AO3

Pepper remembered their first dance. Contrary to public knowledge, it had not been at the annual Stark Industries gala.

Tony and Pepper's first dance took place months before that, alone at the mansion, late after a long day of work. The music had been Pepper's idea, to relax. But the dance had been Tony's.

"Getting better, Potts." Somehow cheerier than usual, he spun her slowly around the workshop. "Nobody will ever know you had two left feet. Hardly believe it myself, if my toe wasn't still throbbing."

Pepper huffed. "Not all of us could afford dance classes, you know."

"Well, it's not that hard, see? We're just swaying." Tony pulled her in, an inch closer, meeting her eyes. And for one moment, Pepper was purely dancing with the friend she was secretly in love with—not the boss who depended on her, or the playboy whose one night stands she escorted out of the mansion every few weeks. Just Tony. "Just dancing."

Their casual flirting was one thing. But this was getting dangerously close to something else—so Pepper ended the moment. JARVIS stopped the music, and when Pepper looked back after collecting her things, Tony suddenly looked away as if he'd been caught staring.

Maybe he had.

"So, you're good?" Tony asked casually, hands fiddling with some tools he picked up. "No stumbling over anybody's feet at the next gala?"

"We're good." Pepper matched his light tone. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

"You're very welcome, Ms. Potts."

"And Tony... " She paused at the door. Did she imagine that expectant look he sent her way, or was it just the lighting? "Um… that contract you still have to look over. Don't show up tomorrow without it."

"Which one?"

"Tony."

He chuckled. "I got it. Have a good night."

Maybe it was just the lighting.

"Good night," Pepper answered, and exited the room with deliberate steps.

She turned back before the landing. Tony was facing away, bringing up holo-screens, flexing his hands—and suddenly she remembered the feel of those calloused fingers against her own, drawing her closer.

Tony looked up. Pepper turned away, determined not to be caught staring.

But maybe she had.

Pepper remembered their first dance. And she remembered how it led to much, much more.

Their second dance, that one was at the Stark Industries Firefighter's Family Fund benefit. A backless blue gown, a little banter, an almost-kiss on the roof. Another moment Pepper ended before anything could begin, even though she half-wished something would begin—had been wishing it those dreadful three months of Tony's disappearance.

As Tony left to get them drinks, Pepper turned away to hide a growing blush. She didn't see the way he looked back at her from the door.

Tony reentered the building, and didn't see the way Pepper looked after his retreating back, either.

Years later on another rooftop, after a disastrous Stark Expo, the kiss became real.

They even had a witness, who deadpanned, "You guys look like two seals fighting over a grape."

Tony put his arm around her as they faced Rhodey, and Pepper couldn’t help thinking how that gesture must make them look like a real couple. She found she didn’t mind. All of a sudden, plans of her resignation as CEO didn't seem so urgent.

Tony turned back to her as soon as Rhodey left and challenged, "How are you gonna resign if I don’t accept?"

Pepper laughed, letting the action release her anxiety and near-death stress and girlish romance. "I…" And Tony was leaning close. She stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Tony, if I don't… we can’t…"

"Come on, it’s us. We’ll figure something out." And there was that look again. Pepper wasn’t so quick to blame the lighting this time. "Ms. Potts?" Tony took both her hands. "Pep?"

It was too late to stop this moment, and Pepper knew it. But the doubt must have still shown on her face because Tony took one look and continued, "Remember when we danced? The first time, Malibu? You crushed my toes about a hundred—"

"Please let that go."

"—but we made it work."

Pepper took a breath. "We did."

Tony smiled, eyes shining—that's how Pepper could always tell if his smiles were real. She could also tell that both of them were done holding back… whatever this was.

"We are pretty good at dancing," Pepper replied.

Tony couldn't see her face as they embraced, but if he did, Pepper was sure he could tell her smile was real, too.

A private night at Stark Tower after the New York attack, that was the third dance. Or fourth, or fifth, maybe. Pepper wasn't sure she needed to count anymore.

She was only sure of two things. Swaying together in their home, with JARVIS playing soft music overhead, her arms around the love she had almost lost—and had accepted she would come close to losing, over and over again, for the sake of saving the world—Pepper was only sure of these: that she wanted herself and Tony to have a thousand more dances to come.

And that she could never know which one would be their last.

They danced that night on yet another rooftop, after the events with the Mandarin.

They didn't dance after Ultron.

Or for several months after that.

But the next time Pepper and Tony finally held each other in their arms, they held on tighter, and neither let go for a long, long time.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined it, for several reasons.

Tony’s smile was different. There was a sadness in them that lingered like ashes, but he smiled anyway, holding her close—which was a feat with Pepper's growing belly, but they made it work.

There were fewer guests. Several seats they left vacant on purpose, scattered around the lakeside like lonely souls. Some people held the belief they were there, in spirit, and that's what mattered. Pepper wasn't so sure; pure sentimentality had prevailed on her to leave the seats out.

Apparently sentimentality ran high this evening. The band played the song she and Tony had first danced to, oh so long ago, in a mansion long since blown to bits, by an AI, a friend, long since gone.

There was no publicity in what had once been anticipated as the event of the decade. A single ray of sun through gray clouds instead of all-around sunshine, in what was supposed to be the happiest day of Pepper and Tony's life.

But the people they loved—those that were left—celebrated with them, and that was enough. A simple reception at their new house, and the wedding was over.

After the lake grew quiet and the stars came out, the newlyweds slow-danced through the night, just the two of them.

This wasn't how Pepper imagined their new life would start. But start it did, with a dance.

"Getting better, Potts," Tony whispered beside her temple, their heads pressed together.

"Not so hard without the floor length gown. I know that was my idea, but God, don’t let me do anything like that ever again."

Tony chuckled and spun her slowly until she faced away, then wrapped his arms around his wife, their four hands interlocking on top of her belly.

Pepper had long lost count of their dances. But she knew this was one she would always remember.

It was Tony who broke the silence. "You guys still here? Scoot."

Pepper turned where he was looking: Rhodey’s wedding presents on the mantelpiece, staring at them—two plushie seals. And she laughed. Tony could always make her laugh.

“Fighting over a grape?” Pepper recalled.

“I never really got that image, to be honest.”

“Hm.” She turned back to Tony, cupped his cheek, and leaned in. “Let’s see about that.”

"That’s it! You’re doing it!" Tony spun their daughter around until the song ended, and Morgan collapsed in giggles on the floor. Tony scooped her up and tickled her with his stubble, making the giggling grow louder.

"Dad!" Morgan laughed. "Mommy, save me!"

Pepper swiftly rescued the toddler, only to drop her on the couch and blow raspberries on her stomach a second later. "In this house—" another tickle, and Morgan squealed— "nobody—escapes—dancing!"

Morgan finally succeeded in pushing her away as FRIDAY started the next upbeat song, and soon all three were back on their feet.

“Not that it's a competition.” Tony walked in. “But she loves me three thousand.”

“Oh, does she?”

“You were somewhere on the low… six to nine hundred range.”

Tony could always make her laugh.

Even the night after the Avengers came to visit. The night their new life, that Pepper knew in her heart could never last long, started to melt away.

Tonight there was no music, no dancing. Only the crackle of the fireplace, the weight of the future, and Pepper’s words hanging in the air— "But will you be able to rest?"

Tony didn’t answer her. He didn’t need to.

But Pepper held his hand, and Tony kissed her cheek. And when they finally went to bed, they held each other tighter.

Tony held her hand, and Pepper kissed his cheek. "You can rest now."

Tonight there was no dancing.

Two cylindrical compartments stood along the garage wall, one of them forever to be empty. In the other, Pepper put her Rescue suit away by herself. Crossing the room, her fingers couldn't help lingering over Tony's reserve helmet—Tony's desk—Tony's tools—Tony's presence. She could always feel it in his workshops.

Their first dance had been in his workshop.

The memory jolted her, pulling Pepper's eyes back to the last gift Tony left: her Rescue suit slumped in its compartment, looking as battered as she felt. Pepper remembered what it was like to take the suit to battle. To fight side by side with her husband, gauntlets firing in sync, guarding each other's back. A team to the end.

Did that count as a dance? Because otherwise, Pepper realized, she didn't remember the last time she and Tony danced.

She remembered their first, though—would always remember it. JARVIS’s song, their wedding song, strained in her ears—she could almost feel Tony's calloused fingers around hers—dancing in his workshop late at night.

But in this workshop, on this night, Pepper could only cry.

Pepper still danced.

She danced with Rhodey, and they leaned on each other, the way they had learned to do long ago.

She danced with Happy, bouncy little head bangs as they cooked Christmas dinner together, and for a moment the house was full of music again.

She danced with Peter, years later at his wedding, whispering "We’re so proud of you" in his ear.

She danced with her daughter. Morgan always pulled her to her feet whenever a lively song came on the radio— "In this house, nobody escapes dancing!" And they laughed. And they danced.

Pepper still danced. Just not with the one person she most wanted to dance with again.

When years had passed, and Morgan was grown, and the house was quiet most hours of the day, Pepper developed the habit of sneaking out on the balcony on clear nights, and looking up at the stars.

Some of her favorite dances with Tony had taken place under the stars. Like the rooftop. And their wedding.

Pepper didn’t remember which dance had been their last. But she remembered the first. And the second. And the thousands that came after that. Maybe that was enough.

In the quiet of the lake house, with only the strains of their wedding song echoing in her ears, and the stars above her, forever her witness—Pepper danced.

- "Ang Huling El Bimbo (The Last [Dance])," The Eraserheads

Lahat ng pangarap ko'y bigla lang natunaw

Sa panaginip nalang pala kita maisasayaw

(All of my dreams are suddenly gone

Only in dreams can we dance from now on)

#THIS IS ENDGAME COMPLIANT BTW #pepperony #pepper potts #tony stark #mcu #fanfic #angst #character death tw #did I have 3+ other wips I started first and wanted to finish first? yes #did I dump my endgame feels on this angsty one-shot instead? also yes #jelly's

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