#Also pretty sure I'm going to basically collapse in upon myself tomorrow when I have to do the full second coat

[cheaperbythedozendogs]

First coat of The Great Green Repaint is done. Guess who badly misjudged how much paint a highly textured wall needs?

[one-leaf-grimoire]

“illusion”

Chapter 15

Hi! This chapter has some sad parts but MC finally stands up to a big threat. LMK what you think!

Warnings: none, this chapter is SFW

A03 LINK // SFW LINK

The true nature of my Illusion Magic is in the way that it effects the human brain. My magic can trigger responses within the mind of another, forcing their brain to release the hormones and electric signals necessary to conjure up what I want them to perceive. Images, sounds, feelings... but one spell does this better than any other; the spell I have only cast once before.

Fear Landscape.

This spell targets a single region of the brain, the amygdala. Stress hormones are released in a massive stampede, causing pupil dilation, heart rate increase, and restriction of breathing. All of these things compound upon each other until the body shuts down. 

The first time I used it was an accident. We were on a mission in the woods, and were almost done, when a massive wolf appeared out of nowhere. The spell manifested in that moment, probably triggered by my own fear. I don't remember it very well, since I blacked out in a similar fashion to today, into a warm, golden sleep. But according to Alice, the wolf collapsed into a whimpering pile, giving us enough time to escape.

I never really thought about what happened to that wolf. I wonder if it died, just like the dozen or so men that were unlucky enough to be around me today.

But now, lying silently in a hospital bed while the nurses checked up on me for the fifteenth time tonight, I have plenty of time to reflect.

I killed that man... the general. I killed all his men. 

The nurses and doctor keep talking among themselves. From what I've gathered so far, the slime mold penetrated my body much farther than they thought at first, and kept proliferating even after the caster was dead. It'll take a while for me to heal completely.

It's been around three days since the attack- at least, I think it has been that long. My mind has been foggy and disoriented, so I can't be quite sure. My only reference for time is the light coming in through the curtains, and the three times per day that a meal is brought to me. I'm barely able to eat, but it could be worse.

After all... someone was hurt much worse than me that day.

The door creaks open once all the nurses are gone, and none other than Captain Hervey and his two vice captains come in. My gaze flickers up to Julius's face first, catching a glimpse of his worried expression. I quickly look to Hervey next. "Captain..."

I start to sit up, but Hervey raises his hand to pause the movement. "Stay still, you're injured enough as it is." He lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes narrowing for a moment. "How are you feeling?"

"As good as I can." I motion vaguely at my right arm, where green mold veins still linger under my skin. "The doctor said maybe two more days before my system gets flushed of this stuff."

"I see." Hervey nods a little. "It'll be good to have you back on your feet..."

I gulp nervously, scared to ask the next question.

"Captain... is Alice-"

"She's still in her coma."

I fall silent. 

"The doctor doesn't think she's going to wake up."

... she's... not going to wake up? 

"Like... not today? Or-"

"Not ever." The words come out sharply, freezing my heart.

I was told as soon as I was conscious enough to listen. The other Shining General was a powerful ice mage. He managed to trap Julius in Ice before making a break for it. Hervey took off in pursuit, but it was too late; The general ran into Alice's group, and in the fight... 

"People don't recover from a frostbitten brain." Hervey muttered, a little callously. I'm too weak to even summon tears, but I feel every part of my soul being shredded apart. 

Alice... you have to wake up... you have to.

"But I told you; My ice magic countered his. I killed that Bastard... both of us felled Generals in this battle. That's why I'm here today."

I look back up at Hervey as he walks to the side of my bed, producing what looks like a small plaque. "Captain, what's this for?"

"It's a special commendation from the Wizard King himself," Hervey explained, giving me a strained smile. "You've been promoted to Senior Magic Knight."

"Congratulations," Malota says, giving me a rare smile of her own from the other side of my bed. "You're basically at the top now."

"You've impressed all of us. Well done."

I look at the foot of my bed, where Julius still stands, and he gives me the same smile as the others. He's happy for me, I can tell, but that tenseness is easily explained; today feels like no time to celebrate, while Alice lies unresponsive in another room.

Impressed... congratulations...

The words feel bitter in my mind.

"I... I'm getting this now... because I murdered someone, right?"

My voice is numb, cold and emotionless. My head falls back onto my pillow, and I stare blankly up at the ceiling. 

Hervey exchanges a glance with the other two before clearing his throat. "NO! Well, yeah... but don't think of it that way. You defeated an enemy of our Kingdom, and now he will never harm anyone again."

That general... his magic hurt. I remember how Giles writhed in pain, and how my mind snapped as he pushed me past my limit. But, I saw something in his eyes. He had a family... there were things in this world that he loved. But me... I can't love anything. Love was ruined for me, so I ruined it for all of them, too...

"I didn't even mean to do it." Slowly, my eyes flicker close. Maybe if I pretend to be asleep, they'll leave me alone. "I was trying to escape..."

"Our bodies do unexpected things when we think we're about to die."

Julius's voice pulls me out, and my eyes open again. I can't bring myself to move and look at him, but I'm listening... I'm listening.

Julius...

"You did what anyone else would have done... but you deserved this promotion before that, trust me." 

Even from where I lay, I can hear the smile on his lips. This time, there is no tension.

How many people have you killed, Julius? You've been to battle far more than I have... and I've heard the stories of your terrifying power. That power scares me, too, but at the same time... I know it protects me.

If I had any less restraint, I would have reached out to him, begged him to take my hand, pleaded for him to stay. I don't care who sees, I don't care who disapproves, I just want him here with me, forever.

But there's just enough restraint within me to keep me still. After that awkward moment, Hervey leads the others out, leaving the plaque on my bedside table.

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

It's not until later that night that the full gravity of the situation dawns on me. Alice, my closest and oldest friend, was going to die, and I could do nothing about it.

"You're in my group, right? So I'll protect you! No matter what. And you're going to protect me too!"

Alice said those words to Cecelia. She promised that she would live.

Alice... I'm sorry I ever doubted you. You're my friend, nothing less, and I know in my heart that you could never hurt me. As sure as the sun rises, as sure as it sets... you would have never betrayed me.

But why...

I roll over in the dark, my delirious mind breaking down as tears and wet sobs rip from my throat.

Why did I have to realize that after it's too late?!

I clutch a pillow tightly as I cry, holding onto it for dear life. And maybe it's just my imagination... but I feel it hug me back, warm and soft.

-----

When I wake up the next morning, there was no large pillow that I could have been curled up into. The side of the bed next to me is warm; at least, I think it is. But I can't see anyone there, and my fever makes the entire world burn.

Maybe that was just my imagination.

-----

"There you are! Oh, god-"

Two days later, I'm sitting up in bed, feeling good enough to eat. I look up from my soup to see the door open, and two very familiar older people come rushing towards me. I drop my spoon in surprise.

"Mom? Dad?"

Indeed, it's my parents, and a moment later they both tackle me in a hug that's definitely more rough than they should be giving me right now. I let out a hollow gasp as the air is knocked out of my lungs, but I quickly get over it and smile. "Hi... It's good to see you two."

I hug back, burying my face into their shoulders, and am suddenly overwhelmed with... nostalgia. Both of them pull back and start fawning over me, telling me how proud they are of me, and how worried they were before they could visit. It's bittersweet, and it takes everything I have in me to keep from bursting into tears. 

All the pain and trouble I've gone through, I did it for them. For the hope that I could free them from the path they think they're trapped on. Marrying a Kira will give us status for life, but now that I'm a Senior Magic Knight, we don't need that status. By myself, I can support them, and then...

"Oh!" My mom's eyes suddenly lit up. "Look who insisted we bring him with us!"

"Huh? Who-"

I look around her shoulder, and my blood runs cold.

"Hey."

Lawrence Kira stands there in the doorway, not even the faint ghost of a smile upon his face.

My heart starts to pound.

He's here... oh god...

"Congrats on your promotion." He walks inside, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Looks like you got pretty hurt, though..." He comes to a stop at the foot of my bed, and I resist the urge to scoot back further. My grip on my mother's hand tightens slightly. "How long are you going to keep this up?"

Uh oh. I open my mouth, not sure what to say. He better not use this time to confront me... he's evil. I look over at my parents, who also start to look worried. In front of them, too! He knows that if he pressures me here, my parents will join them. They're looking forward to the wedding, and they don't want me to get hurt again... I start to panic. SHIT!

Finally, I manage to cobble together a response. Play dumb! "Um... well, they should let me out of bed tomorrow-"

"I'm not talking about that-" Lawrence snaps. "I'm talking about you playing Magic Knight for years and years. Face it, you're not cut out for this." He motions at my fading injuries. "You almost died, I don't want you to face something like that again before our wedding."

"He has a point, Darling," Dad pipes up innocently. "If you died... I don't know how I would go on living."

"I know, but I'm not going to die." I tighten my hold on my mother's hand again. She doesn't say anything, but I see something flicker in her eyes. I look back over at Lawrence, his stone cold grey eyes staring right into my soul. "Lawrence, I killed a General. A Diamond General. And I just got promoted. Do you think I'm weak or something?"

"Not weak..." He crosses his arms, and I see his cool exterior waver for a moment. "But you're not strong enough to avoid this type of injury... you Captain knows it too." His confidence returns, and he points at my plaque. "Have you ever heard of a pity promotion? It's not unusual for a weak magic knight to receive a big promotion right after they sustain a bad injury. It's supposed to convince you to leave, because you've done enough. And that's true for you." 

I feel my heart sink. No, I've never heard of pity promotions before, but that adds up.

Am I... am I really that weak?

"I... I- er-"

"FILLER WORDS-" Lawrence snaps, shutting me up immediately. He calms himself after the momentary outburst. "Stop using filler words, remember?"

I nod, my hands shaking.

"Listen... you're not being disgraceful." Lawrence offers me a shallow smile, stepping forward. I feel my heart jolt again, like a deer cornered by a hunter. "But it's time to leave this path and become what you're meant to be..."

I... I can't... I have to... I-

"My wife-"

"No."

The word slips out, and Lawrence freezes. His eyes widen a little, somehow getting colder.

"What did you just say?"

Shit, shit, shit! My heart pounds, but it's too late to go back.

"I- I said no." I take a shuddering breath, ignoring my parents' shocked faces. "I don't want to marry you, Lawrence, and I'm not going to."

The words don't quite register for Lawrence, ricocheting around between his ears. But once they do, it's obvious. His cheeks start to redden, and his wide eyes crumple with rage.

"You... you can't just say no now! We've been engaged since I was ten!"

"Honey, what on earth are you thinking?" Both of my parents look scared. Their whole lives, they placed their entire future on this marriage, not considering any other way to protect us. But now, I've found another way.

Yes... through my own strength, I forged a path! With the help of Alice, I created a fate far different from what Lawrence tried to create for me. I won't let Alice's work go to waste! I found a life I can live with pride... and I found someone that I want to love with all my heart!

"I am a Magic Knight, Lawrence." I sit up, shaking off my parents' hands, and point accusingly at the man who's caused me so much pain over my entire life. "You are the lowest of the low. You forced me to do things I wasn't ready to do. You hurt me, and manipulated me- and I'm not going to just lay down and take it any more!"

My voice raises steadily in volume, and so does my courage. Somehow, a smile starts to grow on my lips, and I clench my fist as I say the words I've always wanted to say.

"For my family, and for my own pride, I reject you, Lawrence Kira-"

Just as I utter his name, I see something in his gaze snap.

Oh- God-

Instantly, mana caves in around him then shoots out at me. I don't have time to finish my sentence. Poisonous, thistly grey vines hit my throat, wrapping around it and blasting me backwards. My parents both scream, and I hit the wall above the bedframe with a resounding CRACK. My mouth opens with a silent scream, the thistles pricking my skin and drawing blood. My back hurts, my legs kick helplessly, and my fingers claw uselessly at the tight chords that choke the life out of me. But at the same time...

That's it Lawrence. Show the world what a monster you really are.

"YOU WENCH!" he basically gargles, still overcome with indignancy and rage. A vein starts to pop out of his temple. "Do you think I'm going to just let you leave? After all the work I put into you?! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT AN UNGRATEFUL SOW WITHOUT ME!"

The thistles tighten, and I start to taste blood too.

More... more... show me more of your hate!

Lawrence looks unhinged as he clenches his fist, controlling his magic. "So... I'm going to teach you a lesson... and then you're coming right back to the castle WITH ME-"

He's cut off suddenly. I crack open an eye to see both of my parents on their feet, hands and Grimoires up. Both are already forming magic in their hands, Eye magic and Memory Magic, and both are targeted at the prince. Lawrence's eyes widen. "What- What do you think you're doing-"

"Let go of her." My dad's voice is deadly soft. Both of them aren't freaking out, but I can hear the urge to tear into Lawrence in his words. "Now."

"I don't care if you're a prince. You don't touch her ever again." My mother's voice holds the same quiet threat.

Lawrence opens and closes his mouth a few times, and I feel his thistles weaken slightly. All I can do is hold my breath and stay still as the edges of my vision start to blur. 

yes... both of them stood up for me... Mom, dad, I promise this wasn't a mistake!

"If you defy me... your status will mean nothing. Society will ostracize you," Lawrence threatens. "Are you really going to throw everything I gave you away?"

"Status means nothing, now that we know what you really are like," my dad's voice starts to waver. "Let her go before I show you what I'm really like."

After one more tense moment, the thistles disappear. I let out a deep gasp before collapsing back down onto my bed, a trembling mess. My parents immediately retract their magic and rush to my side. "I-I'm fine-" I wheeze, sitting up with their help.

Lawrence still looks mad, but that calculated coolness in his eyes returns.

"You... you'll regret this."

Without another word, Lawrence turns dramatically and storms off, slamming the door behind him.

The nurses are called back in, fixing up the wounds on my neck. They aren't deep, but Lawrence's Thistle Magic leaves millions of microscopic wounds. It hurts like a bitch, too.

But the whole time, up until my parents leave, only one thought circles through my mind.

I did it...

I'm free.

[starrysebastians]

painkillers and something more [one shot]

pairing : bucky barnes x reader

summary : lingering glances and subtle touches are fine, but all it takes is a little injury to turn whatever this is into something more

a/n : listen this one shot wasn't planned but i'm on antibiotics and painkillers right now and instead of letting myself die i wrote this . so basically hurt and comfort and fluff to end my suffering (mentions of injury)

word count : 1.8k

When the end credits of the movie he was watching ended and he didn't have the will to get up from his comfy position on the couch to grab the other remote and turn the TV off, so James Barnes is currently facing a beaming blue screen — has been for at least a whole hour. It makes a buzzing sound he has now gotten used to, because he kinda likes having a background noise to avoid facing the deep and abyssal silence being awake in the middle of the night always brings. Tonight wasn't particularly plagued with nightmares, but the previous ones, and months of recons and missions have messed up his sleeping schedule enough for him to finally take Sam's advice and watch the numerous movies he recommended him to catch-up on the 21st century culture.

His eyes are now focused on a book, one he found lying on a table, the bookmark next to it rather than in between the pages so he figured the person reading it was done. There's a shuffling coming from the hall that makes him perk up, the book closing on the finger he put between the pages.

Muffled voices, a groan, and it's getting closer.

"C'mon, let's get you on the couch. I'll get you your meds." Bucky identifies it as Sam's voice, although it is softer than it usually is when he's joking around, lighter than it is over the coms during a mission. It has the same he uses when he tries to comfort someone after innocent bystanders were a mission's collateral damages, or when Wanda has a nightmares. "Here."

The ceiling lamp flickers on, making the little reading lamp next to Bucky's couch useless. Even when he is wide awake, he usually likes staying in the dark when it's nighttime. It helps with schedules and not getting completely disoriented, seeing the sky go from purple and pink to dark blue splattered in white dots to soft orange and light blue. Artificial lightning all night long just messes with your mind.

Shifting in his seat so that he can turn his head and observe the hall leading to the living room — more like a living floor, by the way, he frowns upon you and Sam. Rather, Sam holding you by the waist, walking ever so slowly as if you were gonna collapse as soon as he let you go. Bucky stands up straighter, a million questions popping up in his head — were you on a mission? no, you had one that lasted longer than usual because Fury needed you and you returned two weeks ago, and all you did the past few days was help run recon, collect intel… nothing to get hurt over.

He and Sam share a look, and he's not quite sure what that expression on his face is.

"Here. Just lie down," Sam says with his soft voice again as you tumble on the couch, hands on the leather to steady you as you try and lay down as gently as possible. "I'll be right back." Another pointed look at Bucky, and this time he slowly rises from his seat, taking two hesitant steps.

It's not that you and him are not close — in fact, he would say you're one of the persons he likes the most here. You work with SHIELD, but also with them, it depends on the missions and he likes how you're free to work with any organisation you like. You're independent, and not often in the compound. He enjoys watching you work and fight because you're so skilled it's impressive for a normal, non-enhanced human being, but maybe it's just everything about you he deems worthy of being stared at all day long.

There has been different moments shared. Unwinding times in comfortable silence and missions aftermaths, bundled up in soft blankets in the living room or numbly sitting in the quinjet as it flew back towards the compound. Briefing sessions, some with too many things at stake to share a joke, others where you both shared smirks and twinkling looks. One where you accidentally bumped your leg against his, that time Steve was explaining how you were going to take down a weapon-dealing business, which is a pretty easy task for all of you, and you decided your leg was going to stay right here. You even made the wise decision of hooking your feet around his leg, the warmth emitting from your tangled legs making Bucky bite his lip in order to stop a smile from breaking out on his face. You didn't hide yours.

There are also times when you don't get to bump into each other for months. Exhausting months when you both are on missions, deep down undercover — especially you, because the winter soldier's face, albeit masks and tricks existing, is well-known, contrary to yours which has been well-protected by every intelligence agency you have served. During those months, sometimes you're scared he's going to forget about you and your fleeting glances ; he's scared you're too busy with work for him to ever cross your mind. And you never really talk, you both just flirt and smirk and wink and sometimes it feels like it has to evolve into something more, but it has always been enough.

But you're currently moaning from pain on the couch right next to him and his face hurts from frowning so hard.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Another two steps (strides) towards you, a hesitant hand hovering next to you, not knowing where to go to provide comfort without hurting you further. You turn your head toward the sound of his voice, painfully, and squint as if everything was blurry.

"Hi," you drawl out, a lazy smile on your face. "I missed you."

A flutter in the stomach, a soft and content sigh.

"I missed you too. What happened? I thought you didn't have any mission coming up?"

"I didn't," you say and he frowns. "Remember that undercover mission where I got shot last month?" He nods and you wince before continuing. His gaze falls on your hip, because he remembers that gunshot, a bit too well. "Well, maybe I didn't really follow the doctor's orders. I mean, I did. I just got back to work too early. But it wasn't that deep. Like a flesh wound. But, anyway." Another wince. "Turns out it got a little infected. So I'm back on antibiotics and painkillers for a week."

It physically hurts him too, to see your glazed and glossy eyes, constant frown and lips turned downwards, but he still chuckles at your rambling, and the fact that you couldn't stand to stay on bed rest for more than two days. He crouches down next to you, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes because you've been trying to get rid off it for the past minute by blowing air on it, but it just doesn't work.

"Yeah well please try and listen, next time," Sam's voice is back, and you just know he rolled his eyes. The sound of boxes and a glass clinking against the table can be heard, and he lays a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Here's the doctor's prescription. Antibiotics, painkillers, water. She probably won't sleep tonight." He crouches down too, a hand resting on her forearm. "I'm gonna let Tin Man here keep you company, alright? If I don't wake up for training tomorrow, Steve is gonna have my head."

You hum distractedly as you watch Bucky fumble with the prescription and meticulously prepare your pills, tongue stuck out as his blue eyes are squinted. Cleaning out his weapons probably doesn't require as much attention and care, and you can't help but laugh at his expression. A super-soldier, being able to aim at an enemy's head without even sparing him a glance, but putting so much effort into getting your meds right, and it makes your chest swell with something you can't quite place, but it's warm, definitely warm. Burning. He perks up at the sound of your laugh, only to send you a glare, and then a few seconds later he proudly hands you the right amount of pills.

"Thank you," you say with a smile, a hand lingering a bit too long on his skin. He helps you get propped up against the cosy and snug cushions and while you take your meds, he's busy finding you a soft and fluffy blanket, resting it on top of you.

"Here." He's sitting next to you again, leaning more and more every time you let a groan escape your lips.

"Would you mind knocking me off so I can sleep?"

An amused chuckle but a fond movement of the head, from left to right.

"You weren't sleeping?" You talk again.

He shakes his head again. "Nah. I was catching up on Sam's movie recommendation list."

"Can you put something on?"

It takes you ten minutes to decide on Blade Runner, and in fear of hurting you, he slides down against the couch again, his head thrown back a little and you can see his face if you look down, the colors displayed on the TV screen dancing across his soft and tired features. He's just so pretty.

You extend your left arm, and it is dangling from the couch, fingers softly brushing Bucky's shoulders. Scratching his neck, his ear. Running through his shiny locks, the smell of his shampoo invading your senses. He cranes his neck backwards to get a better look at you, and he notices your smile and the glinting in your eyes from upside down. You hum as his flesh hand grab yours, thumb stroking your skin. He lets it rest on his shoulder again, putting his attention back to the movie playing in front of him.

It takes another twenty minutes of gentle fingers running on his skin, insistent staring at his neck, back muscles, hair and shoulders, for you to talk again, painkillers having kicked in.

"Please come and lie with me. You're not gonna hurt me," your voice can't compete with the fight scene on screen, but you're leaning right next to his ear, and if he doesn't move for a second, he certainly heard you. "Hold me?"

This is the something more you have both been yearning for. There wasn't any moment that was right before, but this one is.

It takes a few minutes for the two of you to find a position that doesn't hurt your hip, lots of groans and painful winces. But then you're lying between his legs, back resting against his toned abdomen, head nestled in the crook of his neck with strands probably tickling his skin but he doesn't say anything because he likes the smell of your shampoo too, and he's warmer than the blanket.

That something more, the next step in a dynamic based on small smiles across the quinjet and subtly tangled legs, is going to have to wait until you don't have to ingest the highest dose of painkillers humanly possible to move without wincing, but it is there. Hanging in the air, waiting to be seized. In the way Bucky holds you, runs the back of his flesh hand up and down your arm, and softly kisses your neck.