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dragon-kazansky · 4 years ago

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Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

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Part 7

You did not, in fact, spend the night in the lovely room Zemo had made up for you. No, you had spent it with him. You woke up with his arm around you. He greeted you with a smile as you turned over to look at him. Then he kisses your forehead before pulling you into his chest.

Last night was amazing. Eventually you stopped making out outside his locker room and he got changed. You went out on your date, as he promised he would do. He took you to a reply nice bar. You both stayed there for hours, drinking and chatting.

You had to get a cab back to his house, neither of you fit to drive. It was good fun though.

You smiled softly. He was so warm.

"Good morning," he whispers, kissing the top of your head. His voice is all deep and thick from sleep. It makes his accent all the more pronounced... and sexy.

"Good morning."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. Right now, in this very moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive.

"My handsome pro racer," you mutter, fingers caressing his jaw softly. He leans into your touch ever so slightly, the softest smile tugging at his lips.

"Your handsome pro racer?" He asks, still whispering.

"I think we're at that stage, no?"

He chuckles again, pulling you in to kiss you properly. You fit against him perfectly. Everything in this moment perfect, serene, and as it should be.

"Do I get breakfast?" You asks, cheeky grin on your face.

"Yes. I'll cook for you."

You kiss him once more before he slides out of bed and puts some clothes on. You laugh as he dresses. You had quite the night last night.

You stay in bed a little longer before you get up. You feel so at home here. Eventually you just miss him and get up. You grab some clothes, go into the bathroom, and get ready.

Zemo cooks up a delicious breakfast for you both. He serves it with some tea. He smiles as you enter the room, looking just as amazing as always.

"Breakfast is served."

You sit down with a smile and tuck in. It just feels so domestic and homey having breakfast with Helmut. As you sat there eating what he had made for you, a thought comes to mind.

Is this the start of something incredible?

You had hope that was the case. You didn't think you could go back to your lifestyle after being a part of his. This was where you wanted to be, you were sure of it.

"I'm going to hand in my notice soon," you say, glancing up at him.

The smile on his face was one of the most wonderful sights you has ever seen.

"I'll have things organised for you when you're ready to take over as my manager."

You grin.

"I have a lot to learn, but I won't let you down. We're a team now."

"Yes, we are."

After breakfast, you help clean up, you jump in the shower, and then you grab your phone. You give your boss a ring and alert him of what you wanted to do. When he asked why you were leaving, you told him about the offer you had received, trying to sound as casual about it as possible.

He freaked out when he heard you were going into the racing industry. After all, he was a fan of Zemo.

Everything felt like it was working out and coming together.

You hung up and turned to Zemo who had been waiting for you. You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him. He hugged you back, grinning.

"Well?" Though he didn't really have to ask.

"It's a done deal. He wants me to do one more shift, so he can give me a proper farewell, but then I'm all yours!"

He kisses you.

He had never felt this happy before. He held you to him, burying his nose into the crook of your neck. It was here as he hugged you that he felt like he could do anything. He just needed to win these next two races.

Your phone rang.

You sighed as you pulled away from Zemo, giving him a sad smile as you went to pick it up. Zemo leaves so you can have some privacy, already missing you.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?"

It was 'your friend.'

"What can I do for you?" You ask, keeping your guard up. After her little tantrum, you didn't exactly trust her any more.

"We need to talk."

"Do we?" You keep your voice curt and clipped.

"Yes. There is something you need to know. I could tell you over the phone, but I think it's best we talk in person. You may not believe me if we don't, and I have evidence."

"What are you going on about?"

"Your boyfriend isn't being honest with you."

"My boyfriend? What about yours?" You ask, sharply. "What was all that shit you pulled at the race?"

"What? Jealous because he loves me?"

"No. What have I got to be jealous of?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you. Meet me at The Alpine bar tonight. Come alone."

She hangs up.

You stare at your phone, glaring at it.

No longer hearing your voice, Zemo returns. He sees you looking at your phone.

"Something the matter?"

You look up at him quickly.

"Uh, a certain someone wants to meet with me."

Zemo comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You lean back into his chest and sigh.

"What does she want?"

"I don't know. She wants to meet me at The Alpine bar."

"That's in town. I'll drop you off if you would like."

"Alright. She wants to meet tonight."

He turns you around so he can look at you. Softly, he caresses your cheek with the back of his long fingers. You lean into his touch the same way he did to you this morning.

"Something is troubling you."

"She troubles me."

He kisses your forehead lightly. A great sense of pride and achievement washes over him. He can do this whenever he wants. You have given him the permission he needed. His lips longer there.

"Whatever it is, we can deal with it."

You nod subtly.

He steps back and look at you, smiling handsomely at you.

"I have an idea."

"Hm?"

"I want to show you something. Grab some shoes and your jacket, we are going out," he says, leaving your side in favour of finding his coat.

You do as he said and wait for him by the door.

Zemo returns to your side wearing a long dark coat, fur embedded at the collar. So extra, yet so him.

He grabs your hand as you leave the house.

Zemo keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you away from the house. You walk together toward a huge garage sitting up ahead from his house. You hadn't noticed it yesterday as you were blown away by the house itself.

You had a pretty good idea on what was in there. You smile at him as you approach the building.

Zemo has you stop stop at the large double doors. You grin excitedly at him as he unlocks the doors. He winks at you before pulling the door open.

The lights turn on as he flicks a switch off to the side and before you is a beautiful sight. Dozens and dozens of cars. All kinds of makes and models. Lots of different colours. Many of them were in perfect condition. There were a few really old ones that had early seen better days, but still looked amazing. They were all lined up in rows.

"Wow."

Zemo watches as you approach the first set of cars in front of you. You look at them in awe. Glancing behind you, he nods at you. You walk along the line.

"They're all yours?"

"Every single one. Passed down through generations of my family," he says, looking at them with nostalgia.

"Helmut, this is so cool!" You touch one carefully. This feels like such a special and important moment. This is a peek at another part of his life. Looking around, you spot a few familiar cars, ones he has picked you up in before.

"That reminds me, you'll need to get your car from the bar."

"Ah yes, we took a cab home, didn't we? I'll sort that out tonight while you meet with... you know."

You nod and walk along some more.

You took secret glanced at the man following you around his collection. You trusted him. You did! Yet, there was something settling in the back of your mind. A nagging feeling that whatever it was she was going to tell you, was bad.

She spoke about him as if he had some dark secret to hide. You worried that this wasn't some little misdeed just because she was upset with you.

You couldn't ask him, could you?

Maybe it was best to see what she had to say before bringing anything up.

Zemo came to stand beside you, arm snaking around you. You were standing in front of the first car he had picked you up in, the convertible.

"It was in this car fate decided to bring us together," he says, trying to make it sound as cheesy as he could.

"How sappy." You roll you eyes.

He kisses your cheek.

"It's true, no?"

You turn your head to smile and kiss him properly.

"Yeah, it's true."

Negative thoughts melt into nothing when he has you like this. He's safe and warm. He's home. Your home. He could be.

"Shall we drive?"

You nod.

"Pick a car. Your choice," he whispers.

You smile as you turn around and look at the collection. One if the back catches your eye. It's purple. His colour.

"That one."

He says nothing as he walks over to the back, opens a cabinet on the back wall, plucks a key from within, and then beckons you over.

"Let's go."

You're grinning as you climb in the car. You'll worry about the meet up later. For now, you wanted to feel free again with Zemo.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl @nectav @whovianayesha @thesuitkovian @cathrin2405 @deathtothepatriarchy @belle82devart @dxrksxul06 @killeromanoff @alex-the-nb @latenightartist-author @hb8301 @goddessofmischief03 @xxidontwikeitxx @themeanestlittlewitch @scuttle-buttle @fillechatoyante @lucky-luck-lucky @zemosimp420

#zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #AU

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sugar-quilled · 3 years ago

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when stars align

a/n: this is fluff wrapped in unnecessary plot. my bad.

summary: star gazing date

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

pronouns: she/her

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Spring came very suddenly this year. Many students had feared that there wouldn't be sunny weather to look forward to after exams ended, but the clouds parted on the last day, and there was a great hurrying to the castle grounds and enjoy a well deserved break. Quite a few students had taken to soaring around the Quidditch pitch, throwing around a Quaffle and chatting about summer plans. As you made your way out to the courtyard, absolutely determined to forget about the entirety of your Astrology exam, a very handsome owl came swooping down from a tree nearby to land on your shoulder. You quickly accepted the very small square of parchment clamped in its beak, and recognized it as Draco's eagle owl. You smiled at the bird, gave it a quick pet on the head, and turned the parchment piece around. In very tidy writing, it read:

Meet me at the courtyard? 8 pm. Send an answer back - Draco

"Date night?" a voice behind you said. You swung around to see Daphne Evergreen's eyes peering over your unoccupied shoulder and grinned.

"Seems like you know the answer to that question already, Daph."

"Sure do. Will you let me do your hair? I saw a Ravenclaw with a really beautiful half up half down kind of look and it'll really be gorgeous on you. Pity I could never pull it off."

"Don't lie to yourself," you said, swinging your bag off your shoulder, "bangs do grow out you know. And yes, absolutely." The owl readjusted its footing and tugged on your hair, as if telling you that it didn't have all day to listen to two girls talk. You walked quickly off the path, said goodbye to Daphne with the promise of meeting her in the dormitory in a few minutes, and dug around your school bag for a quill and ink. Unscrewing the bottle, you sat down on the grass and wrote back,

Answer is yes, pretty boy.

Draco's owl immediately snatched the parchment out of your hand, and took off towards the owlery.

time skip to 7:50

"Daphne you're brushing too hard," you muttered as she tugged forcefully on your hair. You two had been planning your outfit for about 4 hours now, taking a 30 minute break at 5 to shovel down perhaps the fastest dinner you had ever eaten and running right back up to the dormitory.

"I've never ever seen your hair with this many knots. Have you been crawling around some underbrush? There's a twig in here. How could you have possibly gotten a twig in your hair?"

"I don't know? Maybe it was Draco's ow- OW! Daphne, please, my head's attached to the other end of those strands! Couldn't you just use some Sleekeazy's? There should be a bottle in my drawer."

"NO! It'll ruin your natural waves!" she cried, frantic. "It's 7:52 already! You're due in 8 minutes! And we've still got earrings to choose and you didn't say which shoes yet!"

"I'll do without earrings! And I thought I said the oxfords were fine!" you answered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as Daphne tugged harder still.

"Hang on, just give me one second, I'm nearly there, you've just got this big lump that I've been trying to get through this past half hour."

With the hardest tug yet, Daphne undid the knot, pulling out quite a few hairs in the process, and let out a very tired cheer. You stood up straight and turned back at her.

"Okay, well you've got your top," she said, dropping the brush and moving forward to tuck the black scoop neck into your jeans, "jeans, necklace looks fine, hair looks gorgeous, and do you want to borrow my purse? It'll fit th-"

"Daphne I'm just going to the courtyard! What do I need a bloody purse for?" You half-yelled, massaging a very sore spot on the back of your head.

"You're right, you're right," Daphne said as you stepped into your oxfords, "well then off you go! It's 7:56, you've got plenty of time. Tell me all about it when you get back!"

"Yes, of course. Bye, Daphne!" You shouted, already half-way out the door.

The trip out to the courtyard seemingly took less than a minute, but in your hurried state, there was no way you counted the seconds properly. It was almost completely empty, with only two or three pairs of students still playing gobstones. You spotted Draco, and immediately felt a rosy color creep over your cheeks.

Draco was wearing a white button down and some neatly pressed black pants, an attire that looked suspiciously like his school uniform without a cloak. No complaints were had though, as he looked impossibly handsome.

A large, grayish green picnic blanket had been set down on the floor. Several puffy pillows had been layered down on top of it, alongside a very big, very fluffy blanket.

He turned around, a very expensive looking bouquet of flowers in hand, and gave you a quick smile before striding towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

You blushed and placed a kiss below his jawline before entwining your hand in his. He gestured towards the blanket—"after you, dear"—and the two of you sat down.

"This set up looks lovely, Draco" you said, readjusting to face him.

"I'm glad you're impressed by my effort" he replied, handing you the bouquet. It was a darling little thing of daisies, baby's breath, and lavender. Pixie dust sparkled on each flower. "I'm sure you want to know what I have planned for today?"

You leaned closer to him, and answered mockingly, "What is it dear Draco? Do tell me!"

"Star gazing."

You leaned back and and noticed a small telescope placed beside a pillow to your right. Knowing his absolute disdain for Astrology, you smiled. "Why the sudden change in interest?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be romantic. And anyways, stars are pretty when they aren't for analyzing. Come here, the sun's about to set." He pulled you fully onto his lap, facing away from him, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

The sky was indeed dimming, brilliant strokes of orange turned pink, then purple, and finally gave way to an inky night sky. You had settled very comfortably, head against his chest, as his chin rested on the top of your head. The big blanket covered you both, and as you sat up, reaching towards the telescope to get a closer look at what seemed to be Scorpius, a very sharp "Malfoy!" startled the both of you. Professor McGonagall was storming towards you.

"What do you two think you're doing? It's nearly a quarter past ten and I feel the need to remind you that that is past your curfew. 5 points from Slytherin, and you best both be hurrying back to your dormitories."

Completely abandoning the picnic things and apologizing briefly to McGonagall, you two ran back towards the Slytherin common room, slowing only when you reached a familiar stone wall.

"Serpentine," you muttered to the wall, which then rumbled and shifted so that a corridor that lead to the common room appeared. As you walked down the passage, you thanked Draco for the flowers and date.

"It did get cut short, but it was very enjoyable. Thank you for planning it." You gave him a smile, a peck on the cheek, and made to turn for the girls' dormitories, but Draco grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the boys'.

"Dray, what are you doing?" You hissed, "Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise are probably sleeping by now."

Draco looked back at you with a signature smirk and continued to drag you up the stairs, leaving you with no choice but to follow.

He opened the door to his dormitory to show it completely empty.

"They've got detention today. Convenient."

"Draco! You gave them detention?"

"Well, I didn't really give them detention, I just gave them the opportunity to be given det-"

"Alright, alright," you muttered, coming to the conclusion that one nights' worth of detention for the boys couldn't be that bad. You drew open the curtains next to Draco's bed, revealing a tall, arched window and the starry night sky, framed like a painting behind the glass.

"This view is incredible," you breathed, snuggling into Draco's bed, which smelt like cologne and mint, resting your head against the headboard, and watching Draco rest himself beside you and lay his head on your chest. He turned so that you both were facing the window, and then wrapped his arms securely around you. One hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his lower back, you turned to look at the stars with him.

Each was dotted with precision into the inky background, looking nothing like a nature of the universe and everything like a craftsman's work of art. You'd heard so many people marvel at those that shone brighter, more captivating to the eye, but to you, it was the small little specks that were worth more. They filled the gaps that the larger ones couldn't, and made the skies irregular and breathtakingly beautiful. Stars move, so that no night sky is ever the same as the previous, and maybe it was that Draco was by your side, but no combination of stars had ever presented such a beautiful picture before.

"Draco, you see those four stars? How they're in a line?"

Draco looked up sleepily at the window, muttering "pretty" before slumping down again.

"Prettier than me?" You laughed, pushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.

"Nothing's prettier than you, baby, you know that." He muttered drowsily, rolling onto his back so that he could look straight up at you.

You leaned over and brushed the tip of your nose against his. He hummed softly in response and wrapped two arms around your neck, bringing you into a kiss.

"I love you," you whispered after breaking away, shifting yourself out from under Draco so that you two were now eye to eye.

He pulled you onto his chest. "I love you too baby. And I'll get you another bouquet tomorrow since todays' is probably wilting as we speak."

You giggled softly, and with the promise of, you both promptly fell asleep.

pov switch

When Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise entered their dormitory after two hours worth of scrubbing the floor, they found Draco entwined with a certain girl, her hand in his hair, his wrapping her close and snug against his chest. The curtains next to Draco's bed were still drawn open, so that the uncountable stars winked down at the couple. The boys knew better than to wake them up, so Goyle drew the drapes around the four poster closed, and they headed off to bed.

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 4 years ago

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Lovedust pt.7 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: It’s the night of the party and Y/N is having seconds thoughts about going but her friend Kim convinces her to go and have fun. While things get more complicated with Peter, Y/N and Josh get closer at the party.

Word Count: MF 7.7K ( This is my longest piece I-)

Author’s note: YALL HERE WE ARE! THE BIG OOPSIE DOOPSIE OF LOVEDUST! This is probably my favorite part that I have written so far- it’s fairly long but boy did my heart HURT. I would say we have about maybe 2-3 chapters left give or take and I’m so bummed the story is almost over :(. Thank you all for being incredibly kind, your support means so much I can’t thank you guys enough. ALSO hehe there’s a lil easter egg from the first chapter and the chapter with Y/N having a nightmare. If yall pay attention to some of the wording at the end...

Warnings: Underage drinking, adult language, angst, mentions of death

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || epilogue

You wanted it to be a normal night, one that in hindsight, would’ve worked out in your favor if you were normal to begin with. You weren’t the partying type or maybe, you just convinced yourself that it wasn’t the case since you were hardly invited to them to begin with.

As if it made any sense, you felt eerily similar to Cinderella at this moment; even though she was one of the worst princesses in your opinion, you still sympathized with her story. The idea of wanting nothing more than to leave the confines of her dusty attic to dress pretty for a ball was something you could sadly relate to.

While the Avengers complex was by far well above the average means, it was Cinderella longing for just one night away from her complicated life that made you see the story in a different light.

But after years of wondering what it would be like to go to a real party (now that you were offered the chance to go) it wasn’t the way you dreamed it would be. As you stood in front of your closet, recalling the times you had put on outfits that you thought would be the perfect party attire just seemed like pieces of cloth, nothing more and nothing less.

Because you didn’t care about the stupid party. You cared about Peter.

You had put so much blame on him for everything; his feelings that he couldn’t control and his past which he apologized for multiple times. When you had the chance to fix everything, you were too scared to be vulnerable with him and admit that maybe you were falling for him.

You weren’t a coward, you wanted to convince yourself that you could still move on and have fun without thinking of him but you felt almost embarrassed that you were feeling the opposite.

“ I don’t want to go anymore. This isn’t right,” You sighed as you turned to your phone that was propped up against your dresser,” I can’t just leave him here while I go off to some party.”

You watched Kim through the facetime call as she put down her mascara to take a second to look at you,” Y/N, you have been talking about this party all week. Hell, I gave you that blue top that makes your boobs look great and you even said you couldn’t wait to wear it to the party!”

You only hummed in response as you moved aside the hangers in your closet to find the top that Kim had let you borrow.

“ We mentally prepared for this, we watched Superbad and Booksmart in one night to get the full spectrum of high school parties and we even practiced how to play beer pong!”

“ That was on our phones, I’m sure it’s different in real life,” You sighed as you took off your shirt and slipped on Kim’s blue blouse,” I just feel awful about going to a party knowing Peter is just gonna be here all night.”

“ Y/N, you deserve this party. You’ve worked your ass off for four years and I know how badly you wanted to go ever since we got uninvited to that one theatre party where Timothy Chalamete supposedly showed up to. I know you feel guilty about Peter and yeah, you kinda fucked things up, for now, but you deserve a goddamn break,” Kim practically yelled through the screen, doing her best to hype you up,” if you don’t go, you’re gonna regret it, you and I both know that. So just get dressed, do your hair all cute and shit, put on makeup or whatever you do and go have fun at this party with Josh.”

“ Fuck, Josh! I completely forgot about him, he’s supposed to pick me up in an hour!” You said as you suddenly felt a wave of nerves come over you,” what do I do about Josh? What if he tries to make a move on me tonight?”

“ Do you want him to make a move?”

“ I don’t know...not really but then again, I wouldn’t mind. Don’t hate me cause I know this sounds shitty, but maybe I need a distraction from Peter...is that awful?” You asked as you slipped off your pajama pants and rummaged through your dresser for jeans,” don’t answer that, I know that’s awful to say. Am I turning into a fuckboy?”

“ If you feel empathy than no, you’re not turning into a fuckboy,” Kim laughed as you found a pair of jeans to slip into,” look, I know how you feel about Peter and if you see yourself wanting to be with him than this thing you have with Josh won’t happen. At the same time, even if you do like Peter and you want to have fun with Josh for a night, you’re not a shitty person for wanting that. You’ve been through the wringer with Peter and to be honest, Josh is literally a goddamn angel so I don’t blame you for seeing him as an option. Either way, you’re hot, smart as fuck, and you are a fucking Stark; you don’t owe Peter or Josh anything so do what you want to do because you deserve it.”

Kim was every protagonist’s wet dream; the side character who had more to offer every time and yet, she practically thrived off of hyping you up. You knew that she had a point, she always did.

A part of you could tell which way she was leaning in terms of who you would go out with and yet, she only cared that you were making the right choice for yourself and your own happiness.

“ You really are a ride or die friend,” You said honestly as Kim smiled back,” I’m going to get ready but I’ll see you there okay?”

“ Will do girlfriend!”

Once the facetime call ended, you leaned back in your chair and stared at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t know what your intentions would be for the night and even though Kim had said you wouldn’t be a bad person if you had fun with Josh, you knew you would still feel shitty doing so, especially when you knew that you had strong feelings for Peter.

As you fixed up your hair, all you could do was replay the conversation with Peter in the rain and how close you were to confessing everything. Looking back, you knew you were stupid for running away, if you really liked him than what was the problem of letting him know how you felt?

Because you knew once he was cured, he wouldn’t share the same feelings for you.

In every sense of the lovedust, the way Peter felt about you wasn’t natural and yet, it was the lovedust that really made you like Peter back.

You were just saving yourself from future heartbreak and given your past relationships, you had a reason to be hesitant in being that vulnerable with another guy.

And yet, you still feel like you owed Peter an explanation.

You got up from your seat and walked out of your bedroom, making a beeline towards his room. You were sure he was done with testing at this point but after knocking on his door a few times, there still wasn’t a response.

You opened the bedroom door to find his room completely empty with everything neatly tucked in place as if he was cleaning up for a guest.

The complex was big but you knew you would run into sometime before Josh showed up so you walked straight out and went to the elevators to make your way up to the labs. As you pressed the elevator button, you felt some unease sitting at the pit of your stomach.

Something felt off, whether it be your natural woman inclination or just the fact that you were nervous to confront Peter.

The elevator doors slid open and you walked in before you pressed the button to the designated floor like it was second nature.

Just breath, you’re fine, why are you freaking out?

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and once you pulled it out, you felt your heart skip a beat when you saw Josh’s contact name pop up.

Josh: I just left my apartment! I’ll see you in 20 min!

Your stomach shifted once again as you replied back before stuffing your phone back into your front pocket.

Twenty minutes.

That was enough time to confess to Peter right?

The elevator doors opened to the lab and you walked towards the main zone with a slow pace, as if the anticipation would suddenly make you feel less nervous.

Once you rounded the corner to where your dad and Banner were usually working on Peter, you found the room to be completely empty besides for a few lab technicians who were working rather quickly.

You took a moment to give one last look into the lab before going down the hallway to peek into the other glass rooms to try and find Peter. You had a feeling that maybe you should’ve checked the gym before coming all the way up to the labs but once you found yourself in front of the last room, you spotted your dad and Banner walking out with grim faces.

“ Dad? Is everything okay?” You asked as their heads whipped around to turn to you,” have you two seen Peter anywhere?”

You studied your dad’s face carefully but he gave no inclination of what the situation was, a talent he had grown accustomed to since he was your age. You gave up on your dad and watched Banner’s face, a face you always had a talent of reading easily.

He kept his eye contact anywhere but towards your direction and the collar around his neck was wet, a sign that he was stressed out.

“ Banner, where’s Peter?” You asked again as you looked up at him before moving your eyes toward the room they had just walked out of,” is he in there?”

“ He’s-”

“Resting. He’s had a day full of tests so we put him in one of the hospital beds just to keep an eye on him,” Your dad interrupted as you watched Banner gulp,” it’s not a big deal kiddo.”

Liar.

“ Okay...well if it’s not a big deal than I’m gonna go check up on him to make sure he’s okay,” You said wearily as you tried to walk in between your dad and Banner but he took a step to block you.

“ Y/N, he’s not feeling well-”

“ Why are you lying?” You asked as you looked back at Banner,” what are you two not telling me?”

Your dad kept up the charade and sighed as if he was annoyed,” Kiddo, he’s K.O’d for the night. You know, lots of tests and meds that’ll have him relaxed for a few hours. Maybe you should check up on him tomorrow.”

You could tell he was trying so hard to keep up the lie and while your dad was a phenomenal liar, you were smart enough to see right through his act.

All you could do was nod as you played coy,” Okay, that’s fine. Oh! I wanted to let you know I’m going to that party tonight so I won’t be home until later.”

As you were studying Tony, he was doing the same right back at you. It was like a game of chess; who would break first, who had the upper hand, and who was going to make the next move without disrupting their own game.

“ Alright, just be safe than. Be back before eleven,” Tony said as he patted your shoulder and started walking with you back to the elevator, his hand almost leading you away from the door,” Remember; Beer before liquor, never been sicker.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed to know what was wrong with Peter.

You stopped in your tracks as you turned around to face your dad and Banner, who was still avoiding your gaze. You knew something was up, it was painfully obvious and you weren’t going to just turn over and accept defeat.

“ Would you ever lie to me?” You asked as your dad inhaled sharply, immediately shaking his head without a second thought,” okay.”

You peeked your eyes back to the door and before you knew it, you ducked under your dad’s arm and ran over to the room where you were sure they were hiding Peter away.

“ Y/N, stop!”

You ran even faster as you practically slid against the tiled floor before throwing open the door to find Peter in the hospital bed. A huge heart monitor was connected to the side that had immediately spiked when you entered the room.

“ Y/N? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he sat up in his bed as your eyes traveled to several IV’S that were attached to his forearm.

The first thing you focused on was how pale he looked. Whatever the hospital gown couldn’t cover showed almost a ghostly touch to his usual lush color. Since the lovedust, he had always had a blushful expression, accessorized with flushed cheeks or red tinted ears but now, there was none of that.

You could hear your dad and Banner behind you but before your dad could drag you back, you could hear Banner talking your dad out of it to ‘give the kids some time.’

You didn’t even bother saying thank you as the door shut behind you, leaving you and Peter alone in the room. You were almost scared to come closer to him, he didn’t look like himself at all.

You looked towards the heart monitor again which caused Peter’s heart rate to spike up with the thought alone.

“ Tell me what happened,” You finally said as you made your way over to sit on the edge of Peter’s bed,” it’s serious, isn’t it?”

Peter swallowed nervously but shrugged like it was nothing,” Your dad was there before anything bad happened.”

You shook your head, you weren’t going to get any information out of him like this. You turned to the side of his hospital bed and picked up a clipboard with his medical information. Peter tried grabbing it out of your hands but you stared him down, as if to say ‘ don’t try me.’

Peter backed down as your eyes scanned the sheet carefully, trying to decipher all of the medical lingoes that were vaguely familiar from watching Grey’s Anatomy.

You felt your breath hitch as you read over the same diagnosis.

“ You had an acute heartattack because of me, didn’t you?” You finally said as you carefully placed the clipboard on the desk beside you,” because of our argument... and you weren’t going to tell me.”

“ Y/N, there was no reason to worry you-”

“ You’re so stupid Peter, why wouldn’t I be worried for you? You think an acute heartattack is something as normal as a fucking cold?” You snapped as you watched his heart rate rise. You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair to calm yourself down,” I’m killing you. Loving me is literally killing you Peter.”

Peter watched your gaze fall back to the IV’S while he kept his eyes on you the whole time. You looked absolutely defeated and he didn’t blame you. The way you stared at his arm made him feel like you were trying to somehow reverse the lovedust, as if you could take his pain away.

And yet, what you didn’t know was that Tony had just come in minutes before you to announce that yes, you could actually take the pain away forever.

“ What about you? Is it killing you?” Peter asked as you tore your eyes away from his IV’s and locked your gaze on him.

“ Seeing you like this? Of course it’s killing me, I’m not that cruel Parker.”

“ No,” Peter swallowed dryly,” is it killing you that you might love me?”

Your first instinct was to laugh. What kind of sick joke was coming out his mouth? You tried to force any sound, anything that was a resemblance of something from English translation but your brain mentally stuttered.

It was as if your mind and words went on pause to let your thoughts catch up to you. Were you really that easy to read or did Peter know you better than you know yourself?

“ How do I answer that?” You asked quietly as Peter was quick with a reply.

“ You answer it honestly.”

“ Oh, because you have been so honest with me?”

“ You haven’t been telling me the truth either. You’re a lot of things Y/N, but you’re not innocent.”

“ Oh yeah? What am I then? Since you clearly know so much about me,” You replied to somehow detour the conversation.

Peter gladly took the bait as he chuckled,” You’re stubborn. You’re the most stubborn girl I have ever met in my entire life and I love that about you. It makes things interesting knowing that you don’t roll over for anyone, even when you know you’re wrong.”

You only hummed, he had a point. You had learned that from Tony and you weren’t ashamed about it one bit.

“ Well, I love how foolishly selfless you are. You always put everyone else’s feelings before yours even when your health is at stake,” You said back as Peter’s smile faltered.

Oh how spot on you were.

Cause in this moment now, Peter was between a rock and a hard place. He had information that you didn’t have, information that would seemingly fix everything and yet, he didn’t want you to know.

The cure for the lovedust.

“ You’re keeping something from me, aren’t you?” You said after studying his expression for a moment as Peter released his bottom lip that he was holding in between his teeth nervously.

Yes.

“ I think you’re the one not being honest with your feelings,” Peter said as a matter of fact,” why won’t you admit it?”

You wanted to swallow your pride because damn it, you didn’t want a repeat of earlier. You didn’t want to chicken out but could you afford to be vulnerable again?

“ Peter...I don’t want to admit anything until you’re in the right state of mind,” You finally said, which was the most honest answer you could give,” after all, we both know what you’re feeling for me isn’t the same as how I feel for you...it’s a side effect of the dust.”

Peter only nodded, even though there was so much to say to you. Peter felt like he was in a slowburn novel, but damn, even at this point there had to be more to give right? If this was a story of two people who were meant to be together, then why the hell is it taking so long?

If Peter could have it his way, he would rewrite it to where they could be happily ever after in the first chapter but sadly, this was real life and there wasn’t that kind of luxury.

“You’re right, it’s not the same,” Peter said bitterly as his sympathetic smile faded,” just a side effect.”

You both understood. As things stood now, it was more of a standstill than anything. A pause, a pitstop, anything to halt whatever momentum the two of you shared. You felt absolutely broken that he admitted it, his “love” for you wouldn’t ever be the same as however, you felt about him in that moment.

Just like that, you both knew you were doomed from the start.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you already knew it was Josh. You inhaled deeply as you gave Peter’s hand a squeeze before rising from his bed,” I’m gonna go but if anything happens, call me okay?”

“ Same goes for you. Be safe,” Peter said in almost a whisper as you nodded before turning to the door.

You walked out of the room and leaned against the door for a moment collecting your thoughts. You ignored the gaze of Banner and your dad and seemingly walked through the two without batting an eye.

Tony felt guilty knowing that you had caught him in a lie but he really thought he was doing his daughter a favor. Once he knew you were gone, Tony walked through the door to find Peter deep in thought.

Tony shut the door behind him and walked over, taking a seat in the chair beside Peter’s bed. No one said anything for a moment but Peter was the one to break the silence first.

“ I didn’t tell her about the cure. I don’t think she would even want to...” Peter admitted as Tony nodded.

Tony crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, his mind wandering in every direction,” Good call. Thor said our time is fleeting so we need to make sure it works.”

Peter shifted nervously in his spot,” You and Banner won’t stop finding a different cure though, right? Just in case?”

“ Yeah, just in case.”

-------

“ You look nervous,” Josh pointed out once the two of you pulled up into the driveway of Amber’s house,” did you want to wait a second before we walk in?”

You shook your head as you tried to swallow any nerves that were building up in your throat. You couldn’t believe you were actually about to go to a party after everything that has been going on.

“ No, I’m fine...It sounds stupid but I don’t really do parties so this is all kinda new,” You admitted as you took in another deep breath.

“ It’s not stupid at all. If it makes you feel any better, I usually get pretty antsy before preforming but now that I know you’re going to watch me, I feel less nervous,” Josh smiled warmly as you started to feel your senses ease,” parties aren’t as scary as you think. Yeah, there are always a lot of people I don’t know but seeing a familiar face is always reassuring.”

Josh had a way of calming you down that no other person could do so easily. You wondered if someone else had said the same thing to you like Kim or Peter and if it would have the same effect but maybe it was just exclusively Josh that had that sort of charm.

“ Okay, I’m ready.”

The funny thing was, you really thought you were ready until you stepped into her house. The floor vibrated along to the beat of whatever song was blasting along the speakers and the smell of alcohol and weed felt almost suffocating. You were immediately overwhelmed with the amount of people already there and of course, you hardly recognized anyone from school.

“ Here, hold on tight,” Josh intertwined his fingers with yours as he led you both through the crowd of teenagers almost too effortlessly.

He led you outside and you thanked god the stage that was set up for his band was in the backyard. You walked along the poolside, following closely behind him before you felt someone splash you with water.

“ Hey what- Kim!” You shouted excitedly as you let go of Josh’s hand to crouch down beside the pool to where Kim was swimming in just her bra and underwear,” you’re not even wearing a swimsuit? You dirty bitch.”

Kim laughed as she rested her hands against the edge of the pool,” Took you two long enough. Joshua, how are you this evening?”

“ It’s going good Kimberly, I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” Josh teased back as Kim playfully rolled her eyes,” Y/N, I’m gonna check in with the guys real quick. Are you cool to stay here for a second?”

You nodded and shooed Josh with your hand,” Go, I’ll be fine.”

Josh gave you one last nod before jogging over to where his band was setting up. His bandmates had seen you walking over hand in hand with you and were now giving Josh hard pats on his back, as if to say ‘ nice job.’

“ He’s so respectful it physically hurts. Like I know the bar is so low for men but Josh checks every box. It’s annoying,” Kim sighed as you dragged a lawn chair from the grass and put it next to the edge of the pool to continue talking to your friend,” I would kill to be in your shoes right now. Oh to have two, brown-eyed guys fawn over me!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Kim dramatically placed her hand over her forehead and all you could do was shake your head,” Whatever, you didn’t even like Peter. You said so yourself he was a total douchebag.”

“ Was a total douchebag and look, not that it’s any competition but I’m hashtag, team Peter. I’m a sucker for a good enemies to lovers trope,” Kim sighed as you felt your chest tighten up at her proclamation.

You moved your eyes away from Kim as Josh came back over to you,” Did you want me to get you a drink?”

“ Thank goodness yes-”

“Y/N you should go with him,” Kim insisted as you turned to give her an odd look,” don’t get me wrong Joshua, I trust you but ya know, parties and alcohol and...men. Just to be extra safe.”

You wanted to drown Kim on the spot for even insinuating that Josh would do something as terrible as spiking your drink but luckily, Josh gave a sincere nod.

“ Of course, that’s not a problem. Men really are the worst,” Josh said casually as the two gave each other a little salute,” ready Y/N?”

Josh interlocked his hand with yours once again as he led you back into the house and through the kitchen as some people called out to greet him.

“ Look at you Mr. Popular,” You teased as Josh squeezed your hand before opening up the fridge.

“ This is your first time drinking right?” Josh asked as you nodded, almost embarrassed,” Hey, that’s alright. You and I are gonna stick to the light stuff tonight, these taste better anyway.”

Josh pulled out three bottles of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and popped off the bottlecaps with a bottle opener before pouring it straight into two plastic cups.

He tucked the third bottle underneath his arm as you watched him curiously. Josh caught you eyeing his actions as he handed you the cup carefully.

“ Why not just drink it straight from the bottle?” You asked as you watched Josh take a sip,” I feel like we’re hurting the environment.”

“ Looks cooler in a red solo cup,” Josh admitted bashfully as he clinked his cup with yours.

You took a small sip, expecting it to burn like how it was always described in coming of age books but surprisingly, the fizzy taste of citrus wasn’t overpowering in any way. Josh raised his eyebrows and playfully nudged your shoulder,” See! It’s good, right? If you drink enough of these, I’m sure anyone could get tipsy but the goal of this party is to actually remember it the next day.”

There was just something about Josh that made you feel so much safer than anyone else. He didn’t tease you for never having gone to a party before or having alcohol; if anything he did his best to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.

“ You’re being unreasonably cool, you know that right?”

Josh smiled as he reached for your hand instinctively for the third time that night,” Only for you baby.”

Smooth smooth Josh. Like putty in his hands, he led you back to the backyard but the whole time, you felt your heart practically melt at him calling you baby.

Was it pathetic how easily you leaned into his touch? Maybe.

But god, he really did make things harder for you. You had come into this party with your eyes on another guy and yet, Josh always managed to turn up the charm whenever necessary and you ate it up.

Josh might be the charming, golden boy but you knew you couldn’t be too naive. Everyone had flaws, maybe Josh’s was that he was too nice and too friendly, or possibly him being a complete lightweight was the only thing holding him back in life.

Lucky bastard.

Once you made it to the backyard, you found Kim with a towel around her body, sitting on one of the lawn chairs. Josh walked over and whistled at Kim to look up from her phone, to which he handed her the bottle of Mike’s and she sounded a quick thanks in response.

“ I’m gonna warm up with the guys. We’re only going to play a quick set but after, I’m all yours,” Josh promised as his cheeks started to get red at his own words but he turned back around at an attempt to hide his face.

You took a seat next to Kim as you felt your heart practically skip a beat,” He’s really something isn’t he?”

“ Mm, he’s something alright,” Kim sighed as she struggled to open up the bottle,” dumb bitch, he didn’t bring a bottle opener or something?”

“ It’s the thought that counts!” You said back as Kim popped the bottle cap using the metal part of the lawn chair.

As you listened to Josh’s band start their first song, you couldn’t help but feel guilty on how you were feeling. A part of you was holding on to the idea of you and Peter being a possibility but things were always so complicated with him.

There was more to lose in being with Peter and it was painfully obvious that Josh made things so incredibly easy. You didn’t need to walk on eggshells when you were with him and sure, things were new and always changing but Josh could eventually be a person you could lean on.

You reminded yourself that Peter “loved” you and that you did feel something for him that Josh couldn’t make you feel, but it wasn’t real love and that alone completely sobered you up from your moodiness,” Cheers Kim.”

She watched as you drank whatever was left in your cup but Kim only ooo’d, knowing it wasn’t enough to get you drunk.

You shook your head as you tried to think of anything but Peter. Tonight was your night to be free and you didn’t want to have to worry about who would be waiting for you once you got back home.

And yet, deep down, you wondered why a part of you felt like it wasn’t right to hold Josh’s hand. Maybe because you knew you liked holding Peter’s more. Even as you looked up at Josh who stole a few glances your way, you silently prayed that it was Peter up on that stage instead.

“ I can’t do this,” You said after a second of overthinking everything as you pulled your phone out of your pocket,” I need to text him.”

“ Um fuck no! No drunk texts, that shit is so embarrassing Y/N!”

“ This is less than 5% alcohol, I am definitely not drunk Kim,” You mumbled as you slapped her hand away and pulled out your phone to text Peter,” I thought you were on team Peter?”

Y/N: I need you

Y/N: *address*

Kim watched as you texted Peter but before you could send it, Kim leaped out of her seat and snatched the phone out of your hand,” I swear-! Yes, I am a new fan of team Peter, although Josh is getting major brownie points, but I have been a loyal member of team Y/N way before anyone else. I’m doing you a favor, what is texting him going to solve?”

You pouted as Kim slipped your phone into her bag, unbeknownst to the both of you that the message had accidentally sent.

“ Now get the hell up and lets dance bitch!”

------

You and Kim had perfected your mental state to a tee; not drunk enough to trip over air and make complete fools of yourselves but tipsy enough to where even the slightest look at each other was enough to make you break out into a fit of laughter.

You still ‘danced like people were watching’ but you managed to still let loose enough to where the music flowed so freely between your fingertips.

“ Josh you guys were great!” You shouted as you pulled him into a surprise hug, which he happily accepted,” I think I’m officially your number one fan now.”

“ Wait in line,” Kim scoffed playfully as she grabbed her bag from the floor,” I’m gonna go get a cheese plate or something. Don’t do anything gross while I’m gone.”

You shot her a prompt ‘ why would you say that’ with your eyes before turning back to face Josh. You weren’t sure where things would go next but he took your hand and led you to the other side of the backyard to a wooden bench, claiming that he just wanted to rest a bit after singing for so long.

The bench was small enough to where your thigh was against his but you didn’t mind the contact.

“ Thanks for coming out by the way. I know these type of things are pretty overwhelming but I’ve been having fun so far. How about you?” Josh asked as you exhaled deeply.

“ I’m glad I came...thank you again for convincing me to come out here. I feel like there’s been a lot of stuff going on at home and it’s kind of nice being a normal teenager for once,” You said honestly as Josh rolled his shoulders back.

You could feel how nervous he was next to you but for the most part, he didn’t really show it from his facial expression.

“ Can I ask you something?”

You nodded, trying your best to be as cool as possible but all you could think about was how dry your mouth felt.

Oh fuck, the million-dollar question was finally here, wasn’t it? Was he going to reveal his feelings? What if he was going to make a move?

“ Is there something going on between you and Peter? The other day when I came over, it felt...intense. I didn’t want to overstep by coming over or anything,” Josh hesitated as he tested the waters.

Oh.

Well fuck, that question was just as nerve-wracking as the others. You wanted to be as honest with Josh as possible but at the same time, you didn’t want to ruin any chances you had of possibly having him around if Peter didn’t work out.

You knew that was such a shitty mindset but Josh had a way of making you feel so comfortable and you weren’t willing to let that go.

“ I thought I had something with him but it’s complicated,” You answered honestly,” you saw him, he’s...sick and I feel like the sickness is making him feel things that aren’t actually there. I don’t know, it’s so weird to explain.”

Josh bit his bottom lip nervously as he hung onto your every word,” So his feelings for you aren’t there like he thinks it is?”

God, it sounded so simple the way Josh said it when it was so much worst in reality. Of course, it would be way easier to tell Josh everything from the toxic relationship you and Peter had to how the lovedust was emotionally and physically a toll on both of you.

For obvious reason, you could never reveal that much to him.

“ Yeah, exactly that,” You sighed, sounding a bit too disappointed and Josh had caught the shift in your voice,” feelings are always so complicated.”

“ Not all the time,” Josh said quickly as he caught himself,” I mean, liking someone doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes it’s really easy because love shouldn’t hurt, you know?”

You only nodded because you could tell Josh had more to say. He took this opportunity to shift his body to fully face you and you scooted your back against the armrest so you could show him that you were attentive.

“ I mean, when I like someone, all I think about is how much I like being around them. Everything else kind of just falls away and it feels all warm like how the books describe it,” Josh could feel a blush creep onto his cheeks yet again but he knew there was no point in covering it up now,” it’s a cliche but I think when you have a crush on someone, everything just falls into place... And I feel that when I’m with...you.”

Your heart practically drew closer to him because what is going on, this was different. Even though Peter had generally been saying the same things to you for days on end, this was more.

There wasn’t some magic space dust that was making Josh confess his feelings, it was just pure humanistic drive to step out of one’s comfort zone that had tugged on Josh harder than ever before.

As if time had slowed down, you watched closely as Josh placed his hand onto your knee before leaning in, getting dangerously close to your lips. Josh stopped only a mere centimeter before your lips touched, as if to give you a chance to back away and yet, you stood still.

You were trying to make sense of what your heart and your gut were telling you but you thought back to Peter admitting to you that the love he felt for you was a side effect of the lovedust, nothing more and nothing less.

Peter would never like you back.

That’s what pushed you over the edge and so, you closed the gap between you and Josh as you kissed him back. You could feel Josh smiling against your lips but the pure sensation of the kiss didn’t last.

Kim had witnessed everything in slow motion. The text from Peter, indicating that he had entered and was heading to the backyard to watching Josh lean in to kiss you. It was like a sick hypothetical they always asked in ethics classes when presenting the Trolley Dilemma and yet, she barely had enough time to make a decision.

All she could do was shout but it was a little too late. Peter saw everything.

He saw you close the space between your lips and Josh’s. He saw Josh smile against your lips. He saw you pull away before leaning in for more.

Peter knew what was coming next, he practically braced for the pain that he knew was coming because just earlier the same day, he had a miniature version of it. But he never expected the pain to be this unbearable.

His ribs felt like someone had just swung a bat into the center of his chest and he could feel every bone splitting into various small fragments that were too small to ever glue back together. Each little fragment of whatever was left had seemingly pierced his heart in a thousand different places as more and more pressure starting to build in his chest.

He couldn’t even let out a cry for help, not even a whimper because no air could come in through his mouth.

The fear alone made his chest tighten up to the point where he felt his lungs almost give in from inside of him. His vision was the next to get blotched out with a violent array of reds and oranges, moving at a fast kaleidoscopic rhythm that sent Peter deeper into a panic.

The last to give was his legs; the dizziness from the complete distortion had made his knees buckle from the pain, sending him straight into the pool.

You heard Kim cry out first as she pushed her way through a crowd that was blocking the door. You moved away from Josh to find the commotion and even though you couldn't see who fell into the water, you knew deep down who it was.

You ran over to the edge of the pool and without a second thought, you dived into the water. Josh quickly followed behind you; it took him only a second to kick off his shoes before he jumped in after you.

What scared you the most was how eerily quiet it was underwater. You could hear some muffled shouts but that’s not what was so quiet. His body was motionless in the water, there was no sign of struggling or thrashing or convulsing like how it was in the movies.

Everything just felt slow as you desperately reached your arms out to swim faster to him. You only had one focus once you wrapped your arms across his chest and kicked up to the surface. In your mind, you were already going through how you would start compressions on him once you reached the top.

You were panicked and scared but you knew you had to pull yourself together, pushing away any thoughts of how far gone Peter could be.

You broke the surface with Peter in your arms as you called out to someone, anyone to take him from your arms. Kim and one of Josh’s bandmates helped lift Peter’s lifeless body onto the concrete as Kim quickly called 9-1-1.

Her hands were shaking as she tried to press the three buttons and after an eternity, they picked up the phone.

You scrambled up from the pool and hovered over Peter’s body and without a second thought, you started doing CPR.

For a moment, that’s all you were thinking. Like a machine, over and over again on an endless cycle, chest compressions, open his airway, give rescue breaths. When you found yourself thinking about how panicked everyone else was and how pale Peter looked underneath you, you continued to give compressions until you felt like your arms would snap from the pressure.

You don’t know how much time has passed but enough to where there would’ve been a sign by now. You sobbed for Peter and kept calling out to him, your voice shaking like a child, the same child who lost her parents all those years ago. The same child who held that heavy towel, pressing it against her fathers chest to stop the bleeding- no.

You couldn’t think about that, this was different. You could save him. You kept reminding yourself over and over as you did a round of chest compressions, opened his airway, and gave more rescue breaths. Over and over. Non-stop.

Again and again without hesitation.

At this point, you couldn't stop your mind from thinking of Peter and the possibility of him actually dead. How long was he under? What had happened before? He must’ve seen the kiss- oh my god you killed him.

You can feel it, building up inside of you like an unstoppable path set ablaze like pure lava.

You thought about never hearing his laugh again, the one where he would grip his sides so hard, he would wheeze like an old dog toy. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths.

You thought about him never calling out your name, whether it was followed by an insult or a loving comment about how you made him feel. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths.

You thought about never touching him again, his strong arms holding your shaking body when you had that awful nightmare or how perfect his hand fit in yours when you two walked together in the rain. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths.

You thought about never telling him how you actually felt, how stupid you were forever letting him get away because it was him all along. Chest compressions. Airway. Rescue breaths.

It was always him.

You were in love with Peter.

And suddenly, almost finally, Peter jolted up and coughed up the water from his lungs.

You stopped the compressions and held your own breath as Peter continued to cough up more water, his eyes squeezed shut.

“ Peter? Can you hear me?” You called out between your choked cries as you snapped your fingers close to his ear.

After a moment, an agonizing moment, Peter nodded, as everyone else collectively let out the breath they didn’t know they were holding. Peter opened his eyes slowly, taking in everything like it was his first time seeing the world.

“ Oh thank god, don’t worry, help is coming. Stay awake for me, okay?” You sighed in relief as you tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ear,” I’m so glad you’re okay.”

When his eyes lock onto yours, he feels an odd sense of deja vu that he can’t explain. His chest isn’t tight anymore, his hands don’t feel as clammy as before, his mind feels almost cleared.

He focused on your eyes while everything else drowned out around him. Your pupils, they’re big and they’re filled with a heavy deal of worry but there’s something else. Your eyes, he’s looked into them so many times before but why is it different?

As shaken up as you are, you manage to cup his face carefully to console him, or more so yourself. Your hands are shaking but they’re warm against his cheek and he can’t help but reach his hand to lay across the hand that’s cupping his face.

Peter feels his face flush, but this time it’s different, it’s...euphoric? Peter wasn’t even sure if he was saying the word correctly but that’s how he felt.

Your eyes, he’s so enamored by the way you’re looking at him. You were worried of course, but no, there was something else.

“ You’re safe Peter, you’re okay.”

“ Don’t worry I got you.”

“ Just breath for me, okay?”

There it was, the same deja vu. You had said that to him before, or maybe he had said it to you before through broken sobs when you had the nightmare.

Peter’s breath hitched as it all finally hit him, he figured it out just by holding your deep gaze.

Oh my god.

The lovedust had worn off, it was gone. All the anxiety and nerves from having it in his system had disappeared, evaporated off of him almost. The chest pains and the shortness of breath had gone away but Peter still felt something pulling, tugging at his heartstrings.

The lovedust was gone, he knew that well enough.

The only thing he could feel as he stared back at you was a pure, undivided, longing for you.

That’s right, Peter Parker was still hopelessly in love with you, no lovedust required.

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freddyfreebat · 4 years ago

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Jack Dylan Grazer Discovers Who He Is in Luca Guadagnino's “We Are Who We Are”

After supporting roles in the It and Shazam!, the young actor shifts gears with his turn as a capricious army brat in the Call Me By Your Name director's new HBO series.

by Iana Murray / Photography by Nik Antonio — September 14, 2020

A few years ago, Jack Dylan Grazer took a trip to the movie theater. He was in Toronto and it was one of his days off from filming Shazam!, the DC comedy in which he plays the shape-shifting hero’s foster brother. He decided to watch Call Me By Your Name, and he immediately fell for it. Grazer took note of the director’s name that appeared in the credits—Luca Guadagnino—and turned to his mother.

“I want to work with him,” he told her. With eerie prescience, she assured him: “You will.”

Whether Grazer, now 17, has a knack for manifestation, or it was all just happenstance, his wish came true in the form of We Are Who We Are, Guadagnino’s coming of age drama which follows a group of army brats living on an American military base in Italy. Thematically, the show is something of a spiritual successor to Call Me By Your Name: Grazer plays Fraser, a tempestuous 14-year-old with a pair of headphones constantly plugged in his ears. He’s the new arrival at the base with his mothers (Chloë Sevigny and Alice Braga), and quickly forms a deep bond with his neighbour, Caitlin (Jordan Kristine Seamon), as they both wrestle with their sexuality and identity in the midst of domestic troubles and teenage debauchery.

“He’s an enigma to himself,” Grazer says of his character. “He doesn’t really understand a lot of the things he does but he’s so forthright so he convinces himself that he knows everything. He feels like other people don’t deserve his intelligence. But he’s also very volatile and aggressive at times, and not because he’s coming from an angry place but because he’s constantly questioning who he is.”

If Fraser is just beginning his coming of age when we first meet him, Grazer is inching closer to the end. Starring in enormous blockbusters including IT, he became the Loser Club’s resident hypochondriac at age 12 and a superhero’s sidekick by 15. His films have grossed a combined total of over $1.5 billion. Suddenly the stakes are multiplied tenfold during what are ostensibly, and horrifyingly, the most awkward years of your life. Every misstep is now being monitored, examined through a microscope of millions. (See: His 3.8 million fans on Instagram, to say nothing of the countless stan accounts.) Child fame is a disarming transaction like that: a stable career and all the other perks of being a celebrity, but at the cost of normalcy. That unalleviating pressure forces a kid to mature fast.

Grazer is acutely aware of this fact, admitting outright that he’s “not a normal person.” But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I became 70 when I was 7!” he laughs. “I don’t know if I really had much of a childhood. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to grow up really fast.”

Nevertheless, he’s still 17. When we meet over Zoom, his shoulder length curls are damp and disheveled (he just got out of the shower), his black painted fingernails contrast with his brightly-lit, white bedroom as he rests his face on his hand. It’s a Saturday morning and he looks tired: It’s his first week back at school, which has traded classrooms for hours of video calls reminiscent of the one we’re currently on. “It feels like the days are shorter because the teachers don’t want to torture their students by keeping them on a computer for six hours a day,” he tells me. “You do miss the social aspect of being at school.”

If you were to judge Grazer by what’s out there on the internet, you’d expect an anarchic and relentless bundle of energy. A quick YouTube search brings up results like “jack dylan grazer being a drama queen” and “jack dylan grazer being chaotic in interviews for 4 and a half minutes straight.” He trolled a YouTube gamer on Instagram Live. His TikToks are inscrutable.

But here, he’s incredibly earnest, as he excitedly talks about his skateboarding hobby (a skill he picked up after auditioning for Mid90s) and his attempts to learn the flute (“I need to learn how to read sheet music, but it’s like reading Hebrew!”). He’s calm and thoughtful, as if this project we’re discussing requires a shift in sensibility.

For Grazer, acting had always simply been fun. While other kids might take up a sport or get hooked on video games, he performed in musical theater with the Adderley School because he “just wanted to play.” His roles so far have been reflective of his carefree approach to the job: Up until now, he’s portrayed best friends with biting one-liners, or the younger version of the protagonist in a flashback. IT is a prime example of both. In the horror franchise, Grazer plays a neurotic germaphobe running from a fear-eating clown, but in reality, the film felt like “summer camp.” Both films never felt like work; he just learned his lines and got to hang out on extravagant sets with his best friends. Likewise, school amounted to being pulled off set by a teacher in between takes to cram in the mandatory hours.

But with We Are Who We Are, he steps into his first leading role, one that required him to convey longing and confusion through Elio-like physicality and subtext. It’s abnormal to talk about the show as a turning point for an actor who isn’t even a legal adult yet, but Grazer explains that the show required him to radically change his approach to acting. He spent six months in Italy (“It felt like I was in Call Me By Your Name.”) and built up the character beyond what was on the page in collaboration with Guadagnino. “His philosophy is that we know our characters better than anyone else—even the writers—because we are the characters essentially,” he explains.

In many ways, Grazer absorbed that philosophy entirely. He describes the experience less as a performance and more like a “rebirth”—perhaps even an attempt at method acting. Over those months in Italy, the distinctions between actor and character gradually became indistinguishable. “I had no other choice but to act and surrender to Fraser entirely and throw Jack Dylan Grazer out the window,” he says. “I would go out and get a coffee as Fraser and walk like Fraser. That was just me trying to get into [character], but then I slipped at some point and just became Fraser.”

One day on set, he looked at himself in the mirror, and the hardened kid standing there with a bleach-blond dye job and oversized shorts was unrecognizable to him. He could only see Fraser. While talking about his character, he seems to unintentionally switch pronouns, from “he” to “I”, as if the two still remain one and the same.

The process was so transformative that it forced him to re-evaluate himself entirely. “I never really struggled with identity before,” Grazer tells me. “But I think the show opened up my eyes to question myself. Being Fraser forced me to question what I wanted and what I stood for and what I believed in. At some points, the show bled into reality.”

When asked how he has changed, he takes a pause and a pensive swivel in his armchair, unsure of how to answer. “I think I was more ignorant before I did the show,” he says, and he leaves it at that.

Coming of agers are a particularly well-trodden genre, but there’s a naturalistic, raw energy to We Are Who We Are that is distinctive from what we’ve seen before. Each character quietly struggles with their own problems and growing pains—for Fraser, it’s his sexuality. Caught in a fraught relationship with his lesbian mother and an infatuation with another man, his story doesn’t tick off the familiar beats. His personal discovery is instead internal and intimate. "I think every single person born as a boy has this guard. It’s this guard that they don’t even realize they have, where they’re initially like, ‘Being gay? I could never.’ But we’re all born as humans who are attracted to whatever we’re attracted to," he says. "I think that’s how Fraser interprets it as well. Yes, he’s reserved and nervous about it in the beginning because he’s unlocking this new idea for himself. He’s figuring it out, and that’s what you see in the show: him coming to terms with this idea."

As our conversation winds to a close, I ask him if Martin Scorsese ever visited the set—his daughter, Francesca, plays the confident cool girl of the show’s teen cohort—and his eyes widen. “That was actually a really stressful day,” he divulges. Still, he revels in the memory, speaking so fast it’s like someone has put him on 2.5x speed as he shows off his impersonation of Guadagnino. The director was so nervous about Scorsese’s presence that production halted that day.

“Luca was like, ‘I cannot do this today because Martin Scorsese is on my set. I don’t know what to do, this is not good for me. I will have a panic attack before the day ends,’” Grazer says in his best Italian accent. “It’s like if you’re a painter and Van Gogh shows up.”

Admittedly, Grazer is also a self-proclaimed superfan of the Wolf of Wall Street director, and afterwards, he got to spend several days with his idol, as they went on lavish restaurant outings in Italy and talked about anything and everything.

He takes a second to compose himself. A giddy, Cheshire cat smile spreads across his face. The kid in him comes flooding back.

“...Oh my god!” he yells. “I met Martin Scorsese!”

#jack dylan grazer #fraser wilson #we are who we are #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter two #freddy freeman #shazam!#wawwa #luca guadagnino #hbo #hbo max #sky atlantic #interview #gq #wawwa press

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

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Jetii'kad - Rogue, Chapter 22| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader

GIF by @di-kut

Summary: Your training with Ahsoka moves on to new, exciting levels and a comms call with Din threatens to shatter the peace of the last few weeks.

Warnings: Not too many in this actually. Swearing - I don’t think there is, but I’ll pop it on just in case, injury, falling, me making things up about Jedi training

Word Count: 5k+

A/N: Oh, dear.

Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f) Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @mamacitapascal @heyitsjaybird @amyk-37 @greatcircle79

Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal

Mando’a Translation: Jetii’kad - Lightsaber; Literally: Sword of the Jedi

Another couple of weeks had passed, and things were still going incredibly well.

You were flying through your training, and Ahsoka was continually impressed with you. There were still days where your past threatened to choke you, but Ahsoka was there to help you work it through.

Din had taken to going on small hints that took him away for a few days at a time. He was comfortable and satisfied that the pair of you and the kids were safe here - and happy.

Ahsoka had previously had some trouble with the town, but that had been resolved now and she still chose to reside here on Corvus peacefully whilst looking for things herself.

So, Din had gone off after getting a comms message from Greef about some small bounty missions.

He’d been uncharacteristically like a mother hen the first time he left. You’d had to practically throw him in the Crest and send it into the sky yourself. He’d also checked in every night and morning, making sure everyone was okay and you weren’t pushing yourself too hard.

It didn’t bother you, his worrying or checking in. If anything, it just filled you with a blissfully sweet warmth that wrapped around your heart and soul.

You hadn’t had anyone do such things in… far longer than you could remember.

And maybe because you were equally as worried about him.

Oh, to be in love.

You did miss him when he was gone, there was no denying that.

He had been by your side almost every single day since he picked you up on Sorgan, and to not have him there was a bit of a shock. You found yourself turning around to say something to him... only he wasn’t there. It wasn’t just the conversation either, it was the little things.

Like the brush of his hand over your lower back or hand, his shoulder bumping against yours as you walked, him flanking you like a broad, metallic guard.

Even just the sound of his laughter or the soft clink of beskar as he moved.

It felt like he had taken a limb with him, leaving you unbalanced and off-centre.

Although had you been truly on your own, it would have been a hell of a lot worse. But there were a few things in particular that made it easier. Training, the kids and Ahsoka of course, but mainly... the next thing you had moved onto.

Lightsaber training.

You hadn’t expected to even get near the training sabers - poles of the same size and near weight of lightsabers, used to get acquainted with the momentum and movements - for months. But Ahsoka had informed you a couple days ago that she truly believed you were ready so soon. Like you were born for this.

You were ecstatic, beside yourself with glee when you told Din over your comms call that night that you’d be starting. The man had been so proud of you, complimenting you the whole call until the praise turned his voice to a lower pitch, that honey rasp that heated your blood and your call had turned into a very different kind of praise and reward until the early hours of the morning.

All the stars above, this man would be the death of you one day.

Ahsoka had pretended not to notice the lingering flush on your cheeks the next morning as she set you to work with the poles, explaining the basics of grip and balance.

At first, you were rather clumsy. Your weapons of choice were either a bow, daggers or long knives. At the most, you’d sometimes practised with Din’s beskar spear, but a saber would be a length between your longest knife and Din’s spear.

Hence why you spent the first day with the training pole slipping out of your hands, nearly taking off your foot at one point.

However, you kept going, determined to prove that Ahsoka’s pride and instincts about you hadn’t been wrong.

That your own steadily growing belief in yourself hadn’t been wrong either.

After your nightly calls with Din, you took yourself off to the edge of the clearing, practicing your saber movements.

You worked through the drills Ahsoka gave you in the day, spinning and whirling until you could move across the floor of the clearing silently, whipping the training pole through the air like an extension of your arm.

You knew a real one would take more practice, more care and precision but this was a good start – you were proud of yourself, actually.

There was only one thing bothering you and you hadn’t told Din or Ahsoka.

See, there was this… feeling inside you. A small, swirling darkness that sat in your chest.

It wasn’t the same as the heavy cloud that sometimes lowered over your mood and mind… No, this was a different kind of darkness.

This darkness yearned for… destruction. Devastation.

To bring down pain and fury on all of those that hurt you. To tear apart their lives the way yours had been torn. But not just your life, but the people that had hurt Din and Grogu.

Those who had made Ahsoka choose to banish herself.

And it scared you because, well… you had wanted those things for a long, long time. From back when your powers were once again dormant, and you often hesitated between knocking a hunter out – or killing them. And when that dark cloud had first emerged, it gave you the power to butcher those who dared come after you.

That was the first time your bounty price has risen. Word got out that you were taking down elite members of the Guild, Stormtroopers, high ranking noble fighters from far off planets.

The scared little girl with no family had given way to a deadly assassin who would strike with the speed of a serpent and had the venom of one too.

That same version of yourself often walked in your dreams, and lately, you felt her lingering at the shadows around your peripheral. She had risen from her long slumber, triggered perhaps by the understanding of Haran’s words, back when he had kidnapped you.

This assassin… she would recognise the horrors he had committed, the monster that prowled in his skin but… she would understand. Because the same monster prowled beneath her own skin.

Two kindred spirits who’s lives had been torn apart by monsters who refused to understand.

And last night… last night you’d awoken from a dream-like state, only to find yourself nearly a mile from the camp.

As if you were going for that hunt right away.

You’d been shaken, that lingering craving for destruction still sitting heavy in your chest as you hurried back to camp.

No.

You couldn’t tell the others at all.

“So, are you ready to move onto the next stage of your training today?” Ahsoka faced you across the clearing you often practiced in, the strange, murky haze shifting today to something closely resembling sunlight.

You nodded, trying not to look too eager as you watched her, limbs already loosened up and warmed, ready to go. “Ready.”

Ahsoka smiled a little at your eagerness, her hands clasped behind her back, “Now, this is usually something that Jedi get trained to do near the end of their learning. After they’ve mastered the essentials of the Force, honed them to use in everyday life and in battle, they have to learn the theory and history of this next part. Then extensive training and only after they’ve proved with the practice weapons that they won’t take off someone’s leg or their own arm, then they are simply just considered for this next phase.”

You began to read where she was going with this, and you had to bite your lip to contain the squeal of excitement that threatened to burst forth from your chest.

She knew this, of course.

“But, you’ve risen up through the training quicker than even I thought. And with the life you lead… I don’t see why you aren’t ready.” She moved her arms from behind her, holding out her hand.

She was holding out a tube.

A sleek, silver tube that was ever so slightly curved… it was one of her own.

She was going to let you train with one of her own lightsabers.

Your head snapped up to look at her as your breathing caught in your throat, “Ashoka… This is… I can’t use this. What if I break it?” You gripped your own elbows, forcing your hands not to be all grabby and reach for it like they so desperately yearned to.

Ahsoka chucked softly despite herself, “What did I teach you?” She still held out the saber, the hazy sun glinting off of the metal.

You thought back to all your lessons, but already knew where she was going with this, “Never doubt my Master.”

She raised an eyebrow, wiggling the tube almost teasingly, “And?”

You puffed out a breath through your cheeks, rolling your eyes, “Never doubt myself.” You shot her a look, all playful, friendly bantering… because she was right.

She grinned beautifully, a rare sight, “See. I wouldn’t let you touch this if I didn’t think you were ready. Or trust you.” Her expression softened, “You have nothing to fear from yourself, Padawan.” She used the name affectionately, remembering it from her own times of being young and unsure, eager to prove herself.

You studied her face, reading the confidence there, the understanding, and you thought of the belief in yourself that had been regrowing for a while now. Almost immediately, your shoulders relaxed, and you let go of your arms, instead reaching out for the saber. You hesitated for a brief moment, but then took it, holding it carefully and bringing it back toward your body.

As soon as you touched it, you could have sworn it thrummed with energy, a gentle pulse that sung through your blood and veins and spoke to you. It made you feel immediately… whole. Settled.

This had been what you were missing.

Ahsoka watched you, studying the was your face softened, the light growing in your eyes. Your stance had changed too, more balanced and self-assured. “Activate it.”

You looked up at her, holding your breath for a moment and you lifted the saber, taking a second to think.

All your life… had been leading to this moment, really.

As soon as you activated this saber, you were stepping into the role that had been in your blood, always. Not a Jedi, but something different.

Entirely unique.

Every trauma you had gone through, every wave of pain as you tried to restrain your true self. The stigma and fear, the admiration from those that believed and chose to help you… even if it had ended up in their own demise, despite your best efforts.

This all flashed through your mind quickly, before it cleared. Emptying of everything but the cool, flowing feeling of the Force and so, you shifted your thumb and activated it.

Glowing, white energy burst upward as the crystal was activated, pushing away the murky haze and filling the small area around you with that pure light.

Beautiful, radiant… true.

Ahsoka Tano smiled more, activating her remaining lightsaber with that pulsing hum, “And now we begin.”

The moon shone high in the murky sky, casting everything with a milky glow as you settled into your tree of choice.

It was your nightly call to Din, and you often called him whilst perched in one of the more substantial trees, so as to not disturb Ahsoka with the noise. You knew she fell asleep late and rose early, but you still wanted to be polite.

It was also more to make sure Grogu didn’t wake up – he was a little monster for not going back to sleep again. Din called in the day sometimes, to speak to Grogu but the nights… they were just for the two of you.

You watched the hologram display, which told you the call was patching through.

Your model of the comms watch didn’t allow for video calls, but its sound quality was crystal clear, almost as if you were standing right next to Din.

You almost hadn’t been able to wait for your call tonight, to tell him all about your day learning.

The training had gone… really, really well.

Ahsoka had shown you the basics of handling the saber so you wouldn’t slice through your toes, how to move with the glowing beacon of energy and use it most effectively.

It was different to the training spears, but it was a concept you grasped quickly.

Your past training and skill in combat came in useful, for you were already light and nimble on your feet.

The pair of you had trained over and over, until you were both dancing across the clearing, spinning and leaping around each other, aided by the Force and lighter than the air itself.

It was a spectacular light show for the kids, who were cheering – or meowing – in delight throughout the whole thing.

And, at the end, when you were both panting and a little flushed, Ahsoka had dropped to a knee in front of you, inclining her head in a soft bow, “It’s an honour to fight with you, and teach you.”

Ahsoka Tano… praising you. Feeling honoured by you.

By the Maker and all the stars above, you still couldn’t get over that.

There was more to learn, much more, but Ahsoka had been so impressed, she promised a day off tomorrow where the four of you would explore some of the rare, beautiful spots on the planet.

You had so much to tell Din.

It took Din little longer than usual for him to answer, but you put that down simply to the distance between you, and the storm that Ahsoka said was going to roll in soon.

A few minutes later, the ringing tone pinged, and Din’s voice filled the air, “Hey, sweetheart.”

Those two simple words, the gentle rasp of them that was all honey and roughness just instantly soothed your very soul. It caressed over your body, much like Din’s hands, and you let out a soft sigh, your chest loosening, “Hey, Din… How are you?”

There was a lot of wind his end, rushing through the mic but then it stopped, like he’d turned a different way, “I’m okay, tired. But better hearing your voice.”

Sweet-talker.

You grinned to yourself, tilting back your head, “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Your leg swung lazily from the branch, a picture of relaxation now that you were talking to your love.

Din grunted, the wind suddenly roaring through the line again, blocking out whatever he was saying to you.

You frowned, wincing as the gust made the line all staticky, “Din, what are you doing? It sounds like you’re on the back of one of those reptavian from Nevarro.” However, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, a sense telling you that you weren’t going to like whatever came next.

There were a few moments hesitation, and you could almost hear Din wishing the ground – or maybe air – would swallow him whole, “Um…”

Oh.

You really weren’t going to like this.

Dread coiled with apprehension in your belly, a tight feeling creeping along your skin, “Um? What do you mean, um? Tell me, Din.” There was a sharpness to your tone, one that he knew well.

It was a ‘don’t you dare lie to me’ tone.

A very soft noise over the wind and Din started to speak, but then was cut off by a burst of rapid, loud fire.

Blaster fire.

He was being shot at.

Your heart nearly dropped through your stomach, and you had to grab hold of the tree branch so you didn’t fall out. A light trembling shook your hands, but your voice was still steady, “Din Djarin, was that blaster fire?!”

It sounded like Din seemingly retaliated, because then his voice came back, “Okay… Okay, promise me you won’t get mad.” There was a pleading note to his words, but it seemed like he was cringing, waiting for the blow up.

“Too late.” You hissed those two words through gritted teeth, heart pounding with fear in your chest. “If you keep avoiding my questions, it’s going to get a whole lot worse.”

Din sucked in a breath, and then let it out all in a rush, “I’m at an Imperial base.”

Silence from you.

So quiet, Din would have been able to hear the owls in the trees. Maybe even the fire crackling down below.

The words echoed around in your mind slowly, unfolding and repeating.

He had to be joking. Din wouldn’t be that reckless.

“Sweetheart…?” Din was hesitant, worried by your silence, when he’d been expected fire - and shouting.

You closed your eyes, more to rein in your impending anger, to give you something to focus on, so that your voice remained quiet when you spoke, “And what, might I ask, are you doing at an Imperial base?”

He audibly swallowed, still grunting and seemingly dodging the shots being fired at him from Stormtroopers, “Well, I was on a hunt and I found talk of an Imp base nearby causing trouble in the town. I asked what it was and…” He hesitated for a second before realising that might simultaneously worry you and make you even more mad “And the townspeople told me they were looking for someone. Someone with a huge bounty… a girl.”

It was like someone poured ice water over your body.

There was a whole Imp base… looking for you?

Sure, a few Stormtroopers had come after you before, and then those ones that had ambushed you before Haran showed up but... a whole base…

Don’t think about that though. That’s secondary.

“Okay… And what, they sold you out to the Imps? Told them you were hunting nearby?” Maybe you had jumped to conclusions a little quickly.

Of course Din wouldn’t have gone to a base and ambushed it. If the townspeople wanted to stop the trouble, maybe they thought giving information to the Imps would be a good idea. It would make sense. Plenty of people had sold you out the very same way to save themselves, and you hadn’t been able to blame them.

More blaster fire, but it was a little further away this time. It still didn’t stop you flinching with each shot, waiting for the inevitable grunt of pain from Din.

“Uhm… not exactly. I… asked Cara and a few old friends to help me. We… infiltrated it and tried to find the information they had on you, but they realised who we were.” Din’s voice was halted, stumbling over the word ‘infiltrated’. It was choked somehow, as if was grappling with retelling you the story.

Something had happened in there… And then it occurred to you.

If they infiltrated the base… Din wouldn’t have bene able to waltz in there with his beskar armour on.

He would have to have blended in.

Which meant… he took off the armour.

Before you could mention it, he was talking, his words quieter in that voice that meant trouble, “We managed to get out and…”

The trembling had taken over your entire body, a voice in your head chiming that Din was lying, that he was joking with you because he wouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t do what you knew he was going to say… “And?” A single word, weighted.

You heard Din swallow, and then, “We kind of… blew it up…”

Silence, again.

Laughter then suddenly burst from your mouth, albeit slightly hysterical laughter, but still. One minute you were staring at the moon in utter horror, and the next you were doubled over in fits of giggles.

“Sweetheart…?” Now Din just sounded concerned. He had expected another blow up the moment you realised what was going on, and so far, none of it had happened the way he thought. And now here you were, laughing?

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, “I’m sorry, it’s just – for a moment there, I really believed you!” You covered your mouth, trying to stifle the increasing hysteria, “I really believed you had infiltrated an Imperial base with a tiny crew, to find information out on me you could have got from capturing an Imp, and then you make it even better by trying to convince me you blew up a base!” You leant back against the tree, your heart rate picking up unsteadily, sweat pooling in your hands and you felt your power thrum through your blood.

“Darling - ”

“Ooh, you really nearly had me there, Din. And I’m so glad you’re joking, because no way would you yell at me endlessly for getting kidnapped and then plunged into a frozen lake – none of which was my fault – telling me I’m reckless and stupid… and then go off on a little joyride to destroy Imperial strongholds.” The laughter was melting away, your voice getting more frantic and pleading, like you were begging him to tell you he was joking.

The wind rushed through the comm’s call again, the sounds of Din twisting in the air, presumably with the Rising Phoenix to steer clear of the ground forces, “Sweetheart, listen to me.” His voice was steady, soothing, “I’m fine, okay? I’m completely fine. I’m not doing this to be reckless, or stupid, or hypocritical. They have information on you and there are hundreds of them. If they’re gone, they can’t hurt you. They won’t know where to find you.”

His words were doing nothing to soothe you, “Don’t patronise me, Din. You can’t tell me you’re fine and then tell me there are hundreds of Troopers after you. There are only… what, four of you?” Your breathing was coming in sharp pants now, images of Din’s broken body, blood on white armour and dark dungeons flashing through your mind’s eye.

“Five.” Din spoke the word softly, and you nearly didn’t hear it over the rushing wind and sounds of fighting.

Another laugh that sounded more like a sob, “Oh, five? Like that’s so much better!! I don’t doubt your abilities, Din. You know I believe in you more than anything in the world, but this is… I can’t believe you would do this.” The words were a trembled whisper at the end, fear clutching at your heart once more. It was starting to choke you, turn your blood to slush and your bones to ice.

The thought of losing him was something that kept you awake frequently. Sometimes it would hit you out of nowhere in the day, the idea of living the rest of your life without them by your side.

Gone, little more than a gravestone and memories.

The thought made you physically sick, having you have to run to the nearest place to expel that terror in heaving gasps.

You’d hidden that from Ahsoka and Din too.

Distantly, it occurred to you that you should hang up, let him have his full concentration back but… you couldn’t help the horrid thought that if you hung up... you would never speak to him again.

Din knew this, heard it all in the tone of your voice, in the things you couldn’t and didn’t need to say. He knew you weren’t mad at him, not like that. It was the same anger he had felt when he thought he’d lost you. The gut-wrenching fear of not being able to do anything – the anger at the helplessness. “I promise you; everything is okay. I will be fine; my friends will be fine, and no one will get hurt. We’re nearly done already. Breathe, sweetheart. You’re not going to lose me. We promised each other, remember?”

That’s true… you had. You’d promised each other that you would never part this life alone. When one left, the other would follow.

You swallowed, trying to take a deep breath in through your nose and out your mouth, “Okay…. Okay. Just… come home, okay?”

“Of course, darling. I’ll be home just as soon as-”

A piercing pulse shattered his voice, searing through the speaker on your watch with its resounding whistle.

Your breathing exercises halted immediately, “Din? Din?!”

No, no no no -

It means nothing. Just a close call knocking out the signal, that’s all. That’s all it is.

A burst of static shot into the night air, and then you heard broken up, jagged snippets of Din’s voice, undeterminable pieces of speech.

“Din, Din I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up... Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay, please Din.” Your throat closed up again, the dark beast in your chest snarling as it tasted that terror, feeding on it and spreading through you with those horrific images.

The part of you that craved destruction, that shadowy assassin woke up, bringing forth the vengeance, ready to tear them apart piece by piece if Din had been hurt.

More static and wind and then something that you would haunt your waking and sleeping dreams for a very, very long time.

The signal unjammed, and clear as crystal, you heard Din’s broken cry of pain. Of agony.

A harsh noise you had never heard before.

It was stunned, dragged from within him by a wound that must have hit deep and sudden.

The world seemed to go still on its axis, everything slowing down to a halt.

The entwined golden threads of your lives pulled taut, stretching apart from each other.

Your heart tore to pieces.

“DIN!!” His name broke on a sobbing cry, making the surrounding birds take flight from the bare branches, causing Grogu to wake up down below but you didn’t care.

The line had just gone silent, just as one of those threads began to fray.

He was falling.

Down, down, down toward the ground, smoke billowing from his back.

He was an exploding star, a falling planet, hurtling toward the floor with a speed he couldn’t reduce.

Thirty metres.

The speed of his fall and the force of it caused darkness to pull over his vision momentarily, casting everything into shadow and silence before it all came flooding back.

Everything was a blur of colour, whipping past the visor of his helmet in a smudge of brown, grey and green. The wind roared past him, battering the armour that used to be his savour, soon to be his tomb.

Twenty metres.

The impact of the ground on his armour would shatter his bones and spine, cracking his head open and ending him instantly.

Maybe he’d be lucky, and it wouldn’t be painful.

Or he’d pass out before he crashed.

Ten metres.

His family was safe, at least. That eased his mind somewhat. It would be hard getting off the planet, but they’d find a way.

Eight metres.

There’d be nothing left of him to find. An anonymous man in a beskar tomb, body broken beyond recognition. The people who would soon find him may very well be the first to see his face in… years.

Six metres.

And they weren’t the right ones.

They weren’t her.

No, he’d finally reached a place where he felt safe to reveal himself. Only his hands first, but that was enough. He wanted to give more, so very badly but… he just couldn’t, not yet. But that was okay. He knew she’d understand, be more than happy with that reveal of the very pieces of his anatomy that had started all of this.

His hands, running over her skin, tracing the delicate work of her tattoo.

Three metres.

Two meters.

“I love you.” His gasped words were snatched by the air before they even left his lips, and he hoped the wind would carry them to the person they had always belonged to.

One metre.

“Goodbye, cyar'ika.”

“Thank you for showing me a world worth living.”

~~~

“Sir?”

The young woman’s voice was steady and strong, breaking him from his thoughts as she knocked on the door to the war room. She’d been working here for a year now and had swiftly risen up the ranks.

She was essentially his right hand, and he knew she wore that token proudly. There were no official titles given, but she was his best officer.

She had been the one to locate the Mandalorian the first time around – and had also been the one to find the girl.

That was why he had felt confident when she suggested hiring the Shadow-Born hunter to track them both down. And she hadn’t been wrong yet.

“What is it, officer?”

She saluted, then stood tall, shoulders back, chin raised enough to be respectful, but not so much it was defiant. She looked him in the eyes, “We’ve found him, sir. He was responsible for blowing up the Imperial base, along with a group of friends, including another Mandalorian, an ex-Shock Trooper, a wanted assassin and a prisoner from the Karthon Chop Fields. The Hunter shot him out of the sky and has already apprehended him. The accomplices are so far unaccounted for.”

A faint smile passed the man’s lips, hunger and victory setting a dark fire in his eyes. He nodded his head to the young officer, “Never-mind the rabble. Good work, officer. Tell them to bring him here. There will already be a cell prepared for him. You know which one.”

The woman nodded, inclining her head and then she headed off, but not before he saw the small smile she allowed herself.

Good work indeed.

She had done more in the past twelve months than any of his senior officers had. Maybe he should see about naming her his official right hand.

He turned back to the large open window of the cruiser, clasping his hands behind his back, breathing in a deep sigh.

Finally.

When the Hunter had let the girl slip through his fingers, he’d been worried that he was being played for a fool. The hunter was unreliable, working to his own twisted agenda. If the Hunter betrayed him, there was no chance for the success and power that he deserved.

But he needn’t have worried at all.

He now had the one thing that would guarantee the girls cooperation. He had hoped for the Child too, but he could wait for that.

It may have been slow going, and people may have called him deluded for trying to bring back the old ways… but here was the proof that things were finally going the way Moff Gideon had planned it all along.

~~~

If only he knew that his plan had been set in motion by another. The successes were not his to claim.

The King of Shadows and Destruction was sitting at his board of death, moving each piece as the endgame approached, the final checkmate that would put to rest years and years of waiting and scheming.

Previous | Next

#oh dear #whatever will happen next #oooOooooO #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #din djarin #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the force awakens #Rogue

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summahsunlight · 4 years ago

Text

Reader Request, #7 and #20 w/Poe

Title: Why

Word Count: 1175

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

This was a request from @starless-eyes-remain: can i request 7(lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise) and 20(washing their back/hair in the shower) for him, like maybe he came back from a mission kinda injured but mainly sad so reader patches him up and comforts him? Prompts come from the “50 Wordless Ways to say I Love You,” prompt list. Enjoy!🥰

It had been an incredibly long shift. Once you reached your quarters all you wanted was a nice warm shower, your comfiest pajamas, and to crawl into bed to sleep for hours. Normally, you hated being alone, but tonight you were actually relieved that your boyfriend was away on an extended mission. Which was why you were not expecting to find Poe sitting on your cot, head in his hands.

“Poe?” you questioned. “Why are you back so soon?”

“It was an ambush,” Poe whispered. “We barely escaped.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“For the most part.”

His voice was solemn--and this made you worry. Sitting with him on the cot you reached for his hand, noticing the fresh cuts and bruises. Gently, you reached out with your free hand and brushed his hair back. This action caused him to look at you--revealing a freshly formed bruise on his left cheek. Your first instinct was to touch it, but you held back. “Do you want me to clean the cuts on your hands?”

Sighing, heavily, Poe nodded. It was unnerving how silent he was--you were used to him never shutting up, always on the move--this quiet, stoic man sitting with you was making you anxious.

Channeling that anxiety into action, you rose off the cot and told him you were going to retrieve your first aid kit. There was some kind of mumbled response from him as you gathered your things, but it was so muted that you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Returning with your med kit, Poe sat still the entire time you cleaned and bandaged the cuts on his hands.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you pointed out.

“Not much to say,” he murmured.

“Really? You? Speechless?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, love.”

Putting the final touches on his bandages, you didn’t push him to talk about the mission; it was obvious that whatever happened was still too fresh on his mind and bothering him. “What do you want to do then?”

Poe shook his head, his eyes drifting away from you and looking around the tiny quarters. “I don’t know,” he choked. “I’m just...I’m tired.”

You ran your fingers through his hair. “I was going to take a shower and then go to bed--why don’t you join me?”

He scoffed. “No, you don’t get it--I’m not physically tired. I’m tired of all this! I’m tired of life and death situations every damn day; I’m tired of fighting, sweetheart. I just want all this to be over.”

Tears pricked the backs of your eyes; you wished you take all his pain away, but you couldn’t. Others had warned you that Poe gave too much of himself to the Resistance--that at some point he was going to reach a breaking point. “I know,” you whispered, not knowing what else to say.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” Poe said, noticing your tears.

“Sorry for what?” you questioned, wiping the tears away.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Poe...it’s fine...”

He took your face between his hands and gently kissed you. Taking a deep breath, he rested his forehead against yours. “What were you saying about taking a shower together earlier?”

Chuckling, you nodded. “I was going to take a shower, put on my most comfy pajamas and then go to bed.”

Poe kissed the side of your mouth. “Sounds lovely.”

You smiled. “It might help you feel better.”

“I know it will help me feel better. Just being with you helps.”

“What are we waiting for then?”

Gingerly, Poe got to his feet, wincing in pain as he helped you to your feet. It wasn’t until you helped him out of his flight suit and then into the shower that you noticed all the bruises covering his body.

Carefully you washed his back, trying your best not to hurt him any more than he already was. He was quiet once again while you cleaned him up, he remained silent while you wrapped your arms around his waist once you were done and he only let out a soft breath when you pressed your lips to each bruise on his back.

You stayed in that position, with the water running over the two of you, as you continued to kiss the bruises--hoping that it would ease some of the pain. But once the water started to run cold, you both knew it was time to step out of the shower. You helped each other dry off and dress in sleep clothes, and even though you knew it was painful for Poe--he insisted on carrying you to bed because you looked simply exhausted.

“But you’re injured--you entire body is covered in bruises!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, sweetheart.”

“Poe. I should be taking care of you!”

“You have, love, you have. Now, it’s my turn to take care of you.”

As he settled you down between the sheets on your cot, you realized that you were happy that the evening had turned out differently than you planned. Poe crawled into the little cot with you, his arms wrapping around you and drawing you closer to him. “I’m glad you feel better,” you said, smiling softly.

He pressed soft kisses along your jawline. “Because I was reminded of why I’m continuing to fight--it’s you, and you’re worth continuing this fight. I love you, I want to give you the entire galaxy, sweetheart; I want it to be a safe place for you.”

You closed your eyes and rested your head against his chest, careful not to press too hard because you didn’t want to hurt him. “It will happen; you’re the most stubborn man in the entire galaxy. I know you say you’re tired--but that’s only because you don’t quit, you don’t give up making it better.”

Poe sighed, softly. You were his whole reason for not giving up--even today, when he wanted too, you pulled him back from the brink. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Hmmm... that might be true... but who does?”

“Good point; I’d argue no one. Guess I’m lucky you chose me.”

“Falling in love with you wasn’t a choice--it just happened.”

His fingers gently ran through your damp hair, lulling you to sleep. Poe began to feel tired himself, his eyes growing heavy. On the way back from the failed mission all he could think about was how he couldn’t do this anymore, how he couldn’t watch anyone else die--but the moment he saw you--the moment he thought of all the things he wanted to give you--he knew he couldn’t give up.

Like so many nights before, on countless bases and cruisers, you fell asleep in his arms, quite possibly never realizing how much of a lifeline you were for him. But little did Poe know, he was just as much of a lifeline for you. Together you were going to get through this war and come out on the other side in a better galaxy.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #poe dameron #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #reader request

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anna-justice · 4 years ago

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Sunny Day - Rowater

Summary: Vanessa’s undercover assignment is done, she comes back to the 21st to make amends with one person in particular.

Warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of blood & gore

Requested: Yes! #7, “What the hell are you doing here.” & #8, “Don’t walk away again.”

…

Vanessa stepped out of the cab and slammed the door shut behind her, staring straight ahead at the familiar condo in front of her. It had been six months since she had stood before it, and gosh, how she missed it. Including the ugly door hanger Hailey insisted on putting out every spring.

She passed a grey pickup during her walk to the front door, smirking at the sight. When she reached the porch, she dug in the side of her duffle bag, pulling out a set of keys she hadn’t used since she left. She twisted the key in the door and pushed it open quietly, sighing when the first floor was revealed. Everything was exactly the same.

She dropped her duffle bag on the floor and went straight for the kitchen. She didn’t know the last time she ate anything homecooked. She was rummaging through the fridge when she heard thudding behind her, she grinned, she couldn’t wait to see her roommate.

“Chicago P.D. Turn around slowly and show me your hands.” A man’s voice said soft, but sternly.

Vanessa laughed, raising her hands and turning to face the detective. “Hi, Jay.” She said, looking him up and down. Her coworker stood there in only his boxers at the base of the stairs, gun raised.

“Jesus, Vanessa.” He said, running a hand through his hair.

“Good to see you.” She waved a finger at him, “I’m glad to know you feel comfortable around me.”

Jay scoffed, nonchalantly (or not so) lowering his hands so that they covered his crotch. “I’m gonna go get Hailey-”

Before he could even get the sentence out, there was padding above them. “Jay?” She called out, followed by thudding at the top of the stairs. “Babe, what’s wrong-Vanessa?” The blonde asked as she reached the bottom. She squealed a very un-Hailey-like squeal and raced towards her best friend. “Hi.” She said as she wrapped her arms around her.

“Hey.” Vanessa said softly, sighing as she hugged her back.

Jay coughed behind them. “I’m gonna go put some clothes on…”

“Or maybe just pants?” Hailey smirked at him

Vanessa stared intensely at him, “Yeah, don’t hide on my account.” Hailey looked at her best friend, who was staring her boyfriend down and burst out laughing, along with Vanessa.

Hailey walked over to him, placing a hand on his chest, she reached up and pecked his cheek. “Bring me back a pair of sweats?”

“Yeah.” Jay nodded shortly, before disappearing to where he came from.

Vanessa hadn’t noticed until then, but all Hailey was wearing was an oversized grey v-neck, undoubtedly one that wasn’t hers. Hailey settled in on a barstool, motioning for Vanessa to follow. “How long are you back?”

Vanessa shrugged, “I’m not sure. Things kind of got crazy, so they pulled me out to let the wires cool down. They haven’t decided if they are going to send me back in yet.”

“What happens if they don’t send you back in?” Hailey asked.

Vanessa took a deep breath, “The higher ups are pushing for me to stay on with them, either as a undercover case worker or as one of their regulars.”

“V, that’s great! Getting an offer from the feds your 3rd year on the job? That’s incredible.” Hailey exclaimed. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say that the Bureau has something against Voight.”

“Speaking of,” Vanessa said, “How was your stint? Did it end up being short?”

Hailey nodded, “Yeah, about two months. I came home right after you left.”

“Damn.” Vanessa said.

“I know. We just missed each other.” Hailey sat forward, “So, are you gonna take it?”

Vanessa shrugged, shaking her head. “I don’t know...What would you do?” Hailey nearly choked on her own saliva. Vanessa eyed her best friend cautiously, “Did I miss something?” She asked, laughing.

Hailey shook her head, recovering. “No, no. The people I worked with before offered me a spot on a task force a few months ago, in New York.”

Vanessa nodded, “I’m guessing you didn’t take it?” Hailey shook her head, smiling softly. “Do you regret it?”

Hailey glanced at the stairs behind her before grinning at the officer, “Not at all.”

…

The next morning, Vanessa found herself outside of a familiar house once again. Just this time, with two cups of coffee in her hand. She was much more anxious than the night before, she climbed the porch steps cautiously, hitting the door bell with her elbow.

There was noise of shuffling behind it before it finally swung open, Vanessa smiled softly at the sight of the man in front of her. “Hey Kev.” She said quietly.

Kevin stood there in shock, he debated pinching himself. He couldn’t believe who was standing there in front of him, there was no way he wasn’t dreaming. “Wh-What the hell are you doing here?” He asked, maybe a little more aggressively than he should have.

Vanessa was momentarily taken aback by his anger. “They pulled me from the operation…” She held up the warm cup, “I remembered your order, double espresso with a shot of vanilla.”

Kevin took it absently, still searching for the right words. “Thanks, you wanna come in?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa said immediately, “Yeah, I do.”

The two shifted inside the house, setting awkwardly in the colorful living room. “So, uh, when’d you get back?” Kevin asked, not really sure he wanted to know the answer.

“Like two in the morning, I went straight to Hailey’s.” She said, rushing her words a bit. “Jay actually pulled a gun on me, I wasn’t expecting him to be there.” She laughed.

Kevin chuckled, “Yeah, those two have been attached at the hip recently.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” Vanessa said, looking him straight in the eye. It was more than though, it was almost an apology, almost an explanation for disappearing in the middle of night and just vanishing.

Kevin nodded, he wanted to be angry with her, he really did, but the longer she sat across from him it slowly began to fade. He missed her, he missed her so much and being mad seemed like such a waste of time now. He looked down at her watch. “I have to be at the district in like an hour.” He said, “Do you wanna get a drink tonight?”

Vanessa stood, she assumed that was her invitation to get the hell out of his house. “I have a lot to unpack, a lot to catch up on. Raincheck?” It wasn’t fair to get him to get attached again, not when she could get the call tomorrow that they needed her to disappear all over again.

Kevin glanced out the window, smiling softly, “I don’t do rainchecks, especially on a sunny day.”

Vanessa sighed, shaking her head. She remembered that day like it was yesterday, it was the day everything changed for her. “It was good to see you Kevin.” She took a few steps towards the door, praying that he would just let her go.

“Don’t walk away again, Vanessa.” Kevin said, against all better judgement. He jumped up off the couch, “Not like before”

Vanessa turned to him with blurry vision, “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes you did.” Kevin snapped, “You didn’t have to just vanish. You didn’t have to make me hear that you were gone from our Sergeant at work, you could’ve called. You could’ve told me.”

Vanessa shook her head, “I’ve never had anyone care before.” She yelled. “Hailey was in New York, and I just…” She took a deep breath, looking at the ground. “I just left.” But it wasn’t just that, after Hailey left, her and Kevin grew even closer. Voight shifted things around and they ended up partnered up. She couldn’t bear to say goodbye to him and she had never felt that way before.

“I cared.” Kevin said quietly, “I cared a lot.” He took a breath, throwing his arms out. “I still care.”

Vanessa set her coffee down on the inn table next to her and closed the gap between them, attaching her lips to his. Kevin caught her with ease, wrapping his strong arms around her to pull her even closer. Vanessa’s hands found the nape of his neck, pulling him down so she could actually reach. Eventually the two pulled away, breathless.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that.” Vanessa apologized.

Kevin nodded, “You’re right...I should have.” He leaned in again, kissing her passionately, “Jump.” He whispered against her lips, Vanessa obliged. He picked her up with ease before backing up slowly and sitting on the couch so that she was straddling him.

“I-um-'' She said in between kisses, but she kept losing her train of thought. He was a bit distracting. Finally she pushed on his chest, jumping up and putting some space between them. “I have to tell you something.” Kevin nodded. “The feds, they offered me a job.”

“Wow,” Kevin said, sitting forward. “That’s great V. I’m really happy for you,” He said genuinely.

“Thanks,” She said, still trying to catch her breath. “I think I’m gonna take it.”

Kevin sighed, “You should.”

“It’s in Chicago.” She said, smirking as Kevin’s head popped up. “I wouldn’t leave the city, but it’s centered around UC work, so I’d be gone a lot.” She sat down on top of him again, holding her face in his hands. “But, I want this, I want you. And I want to make it work, so…”

“So, nothing.” Kevin said, “Take it, you deserve it.” He reached up and pecked her gently. “I like you a lot, Vanessa, We’ll make it work, wherever you are.” Vanessa grinned, wrapping her arms around him and breathing deeply. It had taken so long, but she had come so far, she finally found her home.

…

A/N: This is my first time writing Rowater, so sorry if it seemed a little off. What did you think? Personally I will always believe that Vanessa is just undercover and she WILL be coming back, recipe for heartbreak, I know. But still, my baby Kevin needs someone to love. Thanks for reading! <3

#vanessa rojas #kevin atwater #rowater #rowater imagines #chicago pd #one chicago #chicago pd imagines #hailey upton #jay halstead

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awanderingdeal · 4 years ago

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Never too late - 6 - 7

A continuation of Leo and Regulus’ attempts (antics) to give Regulus the childhood he never had.

CW: Food talk

Please message me if you feel I need to add any content warnings

Rating: T

Previous and future chapters can be found on my masterlist

Credit for the sweater universe and the characters within it go to @lumosinlove. What a hero.

[This is currently unedited, and I'm not that happy with it, but also my writing mojo has decided it is vacay time so it is what is it]

6. Go to camp! You’ll make friends for life.

“Le! Did you order something?” Finn called, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen carrying a large box.

“Yeah, it’s the t-shirts,” Leo nodded, scraping the onions he’d just chopped into the pot. “Put it on the island for me please, babe.”

Finn looked down at the box, making a show of testing its weight before he looked back at Leo with wide eyes, “This seems like...a lot.”

After adjusting the temperature on the stovetop slightly, Leo washed his hands and made to inspect the delivery. “Err, yeah. Potts got wind of the plan and got all excited. Half the team are coming now,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Of course that happened,” Finn threw his head back with a laugh. “You might as well make it a thing.”

“A thing?” Leo repeated, throwing Finn a bemused look.

“Uhh huh,” Finn nodded.

“I’m gonna need more, babe,” Leo said, lifting one of the shirts out of the box and running the material through his fingers, humming a note of approval.

“More shirts? There’s like 50 here,” Finn frowned.

“No, love,” Leo laughed, shaking his head “More on what a ‘thing’ is.”

“Ohh, got you,” Finn chuckled, leaning against the counter. “I just meant, if half the team is coming anyway, you might as well invite the other half. Get the kids involved. You know, a thing.”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” Leo cocked his head.

“Well, I did go to Harvard,” Finn shrugged, rooting around in the fruit bowl to find a suitable pear. One that wasn't too big because Finn got bored of flavours quickly and could never finish them. One that wasn't too soft, because he hated the sticky mess on his hands. In the early days of their relationship, Leo had been excited for the adventures that were going to come with his boyfriends, but he hadn't been prepared for how much the little nuggets of information he would discover about them would mean to him. The satisfied smile that appeared on his Finn’s face as he procured the perfect one was infectious.

“Such big brain energy and yet he still can’t load a dishwasher,” Leo retorted, motioning to the stack of crockery that had been abandoned on the counter.

***

“I have no idea why I put up with you,” Regulus scowled, covering his eyes with his hands. “Okay, I promise I can’t see.”

“Because I’m your best friend, obviously,” Leo replied, making a stupid face to ensure that Regulus was, in fact, telling the truth, and began to lead him towards the back door.

“Obviously,” Regulus drawled. “Do I get a choice in this best friend business?”

“Well, you can try and resist it if you want, but I am incredibly loveable and inevitably you will have to succumb to my charm so you might as well just deal with it,” Leo said.

Regulus gave a resigned sigh, “I suppose as best friends go you aren’t too bad.”

Leo laughed, punching Regulus lightly in the shoulder before telling him to watch out for the step up into the back yard.

“I hope you know that if I break my neck, you will be paying for -” Regulus started.

“Wegggie!!” Harry shouted through a mouthful of graham crackers that James had been trying to buy his silence with.

“Is that?” Regulus pulled his hands from his face, his eyes going wide at the scene in front of him. Leo had to admit he may have gone a little overboard with the execution of the summer camp. What had started off as a few classic summer camp activities had turned into a carefully planned extravaganza. There was a climbing wall and he’d hired an events team that taught archery. Between the games of dodgeball and capture the flag, there would be time for tye-dying, friendship bracelet making, water balloons, tug of war and much more. Of course he hadn’t skimped on the food either: burgers, pizza, vegetable sticks, taco salad and hot dogs; there was a long buffet table laden with an endless supply.

Regulus pulled Leo back inside, tugging him further into the kitchen so that the crowd of Lion’s players and their families couldn’t see them. “Leo, this is too much.”

Leo looked at Regulus trying to read his friend, but the other boy was infuriatingly closed off. “Look, if you really don’t want this, I’ll go and tell everybody to enjoy themselves and we can get out of here.”

Regulus huffed out a breath, “It’s not that I don’t want to...it’s...it’s weird everybody being here. They are obviously just here because you asked them and I feel like an add on.”

“Okay, let me stop you right there,” Leo held up a hand. “You practically live at Kris’ house the amount of time you spend there with Avie. Celeste loves you like a seventh? eighth? child...honestly, I’ve lost track of how many children they’ve adopted at this point. You and Olli…”

“Alright, alright,” Regulus interrupted, “I get your point.” He cocked his head slightly, “Huh, I guess I didn’t realise how much I’ve settled here.”

“You need a second to process that or are you ready to go have some fun, because I think Harry might eat all the s’more supplies if we wait much longer.”

***

Leo leaned into Logan’s shoulder, smiling as he watched his boyfriend show Katie how to toast her s’more in the bonfire that crackled in front of them. He was admiring the softness of the French leaving Logan’s mouth, when Regulus plopped himself onto the large log they were sitting on, a sleeping Aveline clinging to him.

“Hey, Reggie,” Leo greeted, turning his soft smile to his friend. “You alright?”

“I’m good. I just wanted to say thank you,” Regulus nodded, shifting Aveline into a more comfortable position. Leo noticed that Regulus had added another 3 new friendship bracelets to his haul since he had last got a moment to catch up with him. “For all this. This day has been amazing. All of it. I’m not sure if summer camp would have been my thing really, but I never really got to do fun family garden parties either and this has been incredible. ”

Any reply that Leo was about to make was disturbed, by Aleandra dumping a water balloon over Marc’s head right in front of them, their loud screams causing Aveline to wake with a cry.

7.Decorate your room! Paint the walls, buy new bedding and pick some new accessories! Make it your space.

"Well," Leo set a pile of magazines on the bed with a soft thud. It was a little old-school, but he was adamant that it was easier to come up with a complete picture this way. "What do you like? You don't have to know exactly, but we can't go to Ikea without any idea." He let out a soft snort at the unintentional rhyme.

Regulus looked up at him, wide eyed, as if he'd just asked him to supply the solution for world peace. "I don't know," he shrugged, toying with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You must have some thoughts."

"I don't know," Regulus snapped. "I've never had to make these decisions before. There was no point liking anything, because our parents would do what they wanted either way." He spat the words, and despite how it made Leo feel he knew the anger was a sign of some sort of progress. Not even a few months ago, his friend had spoken about his childhood like it was just a different form of normal.

"I'm sorry," Leo apologised, climbing onto the bed next to Regulus.

"It's not your fault, is it," Regulus shrugged, tucking his knees to his chest.

"I shouldn't have pushed you for an answer," Leo clarified, moving the magazines out the way and dragging his laptop from the bedside table. “Look, how about we go through Pinterest and you can pick some pins you vibe with. I’m sure we’ll find a trend.”

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed, shuffling closer to Leo. “Yeah, okay.”

***

“What the hell, there’s more,” Regulus said in awe as they rounded another corner to be confronted by rows of rattan baskets.

“I think we’re nearly at the end.” Leo looked up from the map he was trying to follow, almost stumbling over the cart when Regulus came to a sudden halt.

“These are nice,” Regulus mused, picking up a walnut coloured weaved basket. “My towels will look nice in these.”

“I’m sure they would,” Leo chuckled. He shouldn’t have been so surprised by how quickly Regulus had gained an affinity for interior design considering how he had taken to honing his clothing style with such ease.

“Oh! But these are nice too.” Regulus turned to show Leo another basket, that was identical in every way except for being perhaps a shade lighter.

Leo groaned. They had been in the store for over 3 hours and the cart was overflowing. His friend was adamant he was going to pay his own way and considering the short amount of time he had played for Slytherin along with the legal fees to end his contract early, the man was having to learn to budget to be able to afford college. Leo had suggested that doing a couple of interviews would leave him with a fair buffer, but Regulus had wanted to put as much space between hockey and his new life as possible. Leo was supportive, but Regulus seemed to be having trouble getting out the habit of buying everything he wanted.

“Right, pick one and then close your eyes. We need to get out of here.”

***

“Up a little on the left,” Leo instructed, shaking his head as Regulus lifted the left side of the photo frame considerably. “No, not that much.”

“That’ll do.”

“It’s not straight!”

“Neither are you and you don’t see us complaining,” Regulus huffed as he adjusted the frame again.

“You’re just jealous,” Leo threw one of Regulus’ new cushions across the room, hitting him squarely in the back of the head.

“Eww,” Regulus deadpanned. “And please do not throw my things,” he glared, hugging the cushion to his chest.

Leo was about to make a comment back, but he was interrupted by Sirius clearing his throat in the doorway.

“Got you a present,” Sirius said, holding out a large bag.

“Sirius.” Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, his face set into a disapproving stare. “I told you -”

“Think of it as an early birthday present,” Sirius interrupted.

“My birthday is not for another 4 months.”

“Just take it. I promise I’ll let you do this the way you want, but you’ve got to let me buy you things every now and then too. That’s what big brothers do.”

Regulus sighed, crossing the room to take the bag from Sirius. “Thanks,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth lifting despite his best efforts. The smile spread further as he laid the mustard coloured herringbone throw he’d been salivating over in the small boutique they’d visited a few days prior.

“You’re welcome,” Sirius nodded. “Looks good in here, by the way. We’ll have to find you an apartment in New York that will be big enough to fit it all in.” he commented, walking away as he finished his sentence.

“I’m paying for the apartment!” Regulus called after him. Leo barked a laugh as Regulus ranted about stubborn humans on NHL wages. Regulus poked a finger at him. “You can be quiet. I know this was your doing.”

#regulus black #leo knut #Sweater weather #Lumos in love #Rating: T #CW: Food talk

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

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Overall thoughts on V8? Assuming you didn't answer this already.

I meant to do a volume wrap up review but I got incredibly busy and it fell to the waste side. The thing about me judging RWBY I have to come at it from two angles or I won’t feel like I judged it appropriately. There’s the casual, first time seeing the episodes and seeing this through the lens as a casual watcher who probably only sees the episodes once or twice. But then there’s the other side to that coin. I review these episodes, write aus, theorize, check extended lore, listen to the music, etc; that means I have to go back and watch episodes several times for any given reason and that’s when you start noticing the holes or picking up on things you didn’t before.

As a casual watcher, I’d give this an 8/10. There’s plenty of moments where characters do things that got me excited and plot points I wanted explored. This volume actually gave a decent amount of things I wanted for quite some time and some things I didn’t know I needed. Certainly there are things I don’t like in this but I’m open and curious to see where RT takes their storie because it’s their story.

Okay, now as a someone who’s had to deep dive and take a step back multiple times for a variety of reasons. 6.5/10 maybe a 7/10 if I’m being generous. A lot of my problems with this volume are problems that aren’t new to RWBY and that’s just how surface layer portions of arcs are and how a variety of choices/bonds don’t exactly make sense with what we were previously shown, or they only make sense because the writers don’t want introduce other complexities even though they should be there realistically. I’ll give a couple examples of these and yes, I’m aware what I say doesn’t bother everyone but it bothers me.

Qrow was never angry at or brought up Robyn being the reason their airship crashed in the first place because she started the fight; which aids in Clover dying.

Emerald follows Cinder, not Salem. Even if Cinder is working under Salem, why would Emerald be so willingly to complete shift to the side that actively goes against Cinder? There’s been no grand revelation to make Emerald believe Cinder doesn’t give a damn about her. Leaving made sense because she was about to get tortured. Going full turncoat right now doesn’t. No change happened. Emerald always hated being near Salem but adored Cinder no matter the crimes and the show hasn’t done anything to switch that view point.

I’m happy Whitley and Weiss had a touching sibling moment that implies they’re okay and making/made up, but there was never a conversation about the actual problem and thoughts that had them at odds in the first place. Weiss saving his and Willow’s life shouldn’t be the thing that smooths things over. It would’ve been terrible if Weiss do something to save their life. Whitley helping Penny is okay I guess because he really had no reason to contribute but did anyways. Even so, a person doing a morally correct thing doesn’t automatically warrant the conflict between him and Weiss’s resolved.

We got Cinder’s backstory; it didn’t tell us anything about how she eventually came into contact with Salem. Honestly her back story felt more in line of her main goal through the series was an absolute freedom by the means of breaking down the systems that trapped and didn’t give a damn, rather than her quest for power. Yes you can argue gaining power means it’s easier to maintain her freedom to do whatever she wants but I personally think that’s a little off the mark when you gave her a story that involves her trapped by rules and time rather than being too physically weak to gain freedom.

This show has built up that the Schnee family has suffered various types of abuse because of Jacques and uses Weiss as a medium to build towards breaking free from that. Not just overcoming but confronting the abuse by cementing it’s place below you. We don’t really get that. There will never be a moment where the siblings and mother truly get to break out of Jacques grasps emotionally and then put him in his place because he’s dead! Yeah they never have to worry about him again but even last volume they showed Winter still having turmoil and being able to get strung along by him. We don’t even really know how Whitley perceived his father. It feels so lackluster. Then they care to mention how it’s Weiss’s idea to save him like it’s an empowering moment when in actuality, it would be against her character, values of a huntress, and morality to let a person die in cell when you’re the reason they’re in a cell! Letting him die in there would just terrible. I don’t even know why he wasn’t let out in that scene! He’s a coward! He’d follow their orders to save his skin. All he has to do is shut up and walk through a portal.

Ironwood and Oscar both knew they could remove that staff to use it and Atlas wouldn’t drop immediately. Why did nobody have any kind of compromise with one another since there’s nothing stopping them from using the staff for something and then putting it back? They had this morally gray thing going on which I liked but then they decided to make Ironwood go full evil. I’ve never had to say this before but the song he got in V7 and the character they made him be in V8 just don’t connect. I got upset listening to that song recently because I liked that Ironwood.

Clover’s importance. RT tried making a character who had no more than 9 minutes in the series and one meaningful line of dialogue into the cornerstone of a side plot. Clover is such a nothing character. Vine did more than Clover. They try to make him have such a profound impact to the people around him but we never see him bond with his team; Harriet specifically. We get one scene of Clover telling Qrow the kids are fortunate to have Qrow even if he doesn’t think so. First, I doubt Clover knows Qrow decided to get drunk in a ghost town and the kids nearly died and cellar while he did it so that compliment doesn’t hold much weight for me. Second, We see nothing meaningful between the two. V7 has a time skip and just expects viewers to be on board with Clover being this influential change on Qrow without showing anything outside of a witty remark and Clover flexing his semblance. I would’ve bought it more of Qrow almost relapsed and Clover stopped him then had a real meaningful conversation.

Ruby goes against Ironwood only to then want to do a plan that’s aligned to longer term thinking than even his, talks about how everyone should be working together, but then adds a part in her video to actively antagonize and vilify Ironwood. Afterwards, she wonders where everything went wrong and doesn’t think of a plan or do anything to immediately help either kingdom until the final hour between the ultimatum being made, to everything getting destroyed. The inciting incident was disagreeing Mantle should be left in favor of Atlas but the main character didn’t do anything to help Mantle 90% of the season and hindered Atlas’s safety up until the final plan.

Yang is used to be the devil’s advocate in a bunch of situations, but she’s wrong most of the time or her lines just don’t make any sense. They weren’t doing just fine before Atlas. They almost died every step of the way. The team didn’t beat a Leviathan; silver eyes and a robot take credit for that. Why would Blake think less of Yang for wanting to go save people immediately? Blake was never mad at anyone to begin with. Yang consistently calls out people for following orders as if it’s objectively wrong, but is never called out on the fact she hasn’t followed anybody’s orders but her own and added discourse to every situation. I get RT is making her ask questions because that’s what Raven told her to do, but all she’s really doing is picking fights and disobeying every order. Yang states to Ruby they accomplished more than they expected. That’s false, getting Oscar back is correcting a mistake caused by her own plan that she didn’t even complete.

It took 6 volumes before Yang had anything to do with the Summer Rose subplot again and 7 volumes before her and Ruby had a sister to sister conversations; 5 if you wanna count Yang telling Ruby to leave at the end of volume three. The reason I bring this up is because in V8 , they treat their argument as if it’s a big deal but then have every character say it wasn’t that big a deal; but then have two circle back to that conversation later after having neither character discuss to anybody that the argument actually did weigh on them. Yang doesn’t think about Ruby until she sees her again and the closest we get with Ruby is Blake reassuring her that people need her and how Blake admires her. I like that scene but it’s not the same as Ruby actually airing out the specific point that Yang said something that Ruby found hurtful. Vol8 in general people trying to comfort others but nobody ever actually addresses what made them uncomfortable to start with. Except Ren.

This one is a nitpicking but I’ll say it anyways. Penny getting hacked only served as a purpose to go to the vault, a thing Ironwood already wanted them to do. Nobody got her because she was hacked. You can’t even say her getting hacked is the leading factor to her actually dying because Penny became a vulnerable human afterwards that can’t be rebuilt. Pietro was gone, and already stated last volume he doesn’t have the aura to build Penny again. If she died as a robot then it’s still permanent death. No core, no Pietro, and no aura; hacking her was just to create a Hound reveal situation and make them go to the vault on a different set of terms. I’m not exactly upset with this, but I don’t understand why the extra steps. The Hound was hunting her anyways. I would’ve brought some kind of value if she hurt a friend and it caused them to potentially hinder the plan later on or remove them entirely. Penny could’ve rekt Yang and it only adds value to Yang getting one shot later. I don’t know. I’m rambling.

I think I’ve wasted enough people’s time. Honestly, I do like this volume. I’ve enjoyed a bunch of it. But there’s things that legitimately make me think it’s not as good others and makes V7 even worse.

#rwby #rwby volume 8 #ask me stuff

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years ago

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Chapter 32

of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling Lan QiRen’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week oh god it’s only gonna get worse

WangJi is deep in thought for the majority of the flight.

His mind keeps circling back to the string of incidents in the Immortal Mountain, insisting that even those events which may seem coincidental must be a part of a larger picture.

Except that there is no picture. There is only a patchwork of uneven pieces, refusing to fit into a coherent narrative. The information supplied by the Rogue Prince and his companion, instead of providing some clarity, only seems to make the pieces more distorted. Still, his mind is adamant that there is a connection to be made, one he simply cannot grasp.

Thinking so, he does not catch his brother’s words right away.

They are flying side by side, the Emperor to their right, the escort comprised of both the Nie and the Lan Sect disciples flying at their back. WangJi does not ask his brother to repeat himself. Conversation while flying is difficult on the calmest of days; now, flying into the north-western winds which snatch their words away before they are fully formed, it is nearly impossible. He follows XiChen’s gaze to the Immortal Mountain City, noticing that the small lanterns illuminating the Five Phoenix Gate steps are finally visible. The wall surrounding the City rises tall to the north and the south. Approaching by the main road, a traveler could perhaps catch a glimpse of the gray stone, or if the sun is in the correct position, the gold phoenix rearing above the gate, but the City itself is well concealed from the eyes of those who have not been invited past its gates. At this altitude, however, WangJi can see a hint of roof peaks in the distance, as well as a mysterious bright light in the south part of the City.

For a few moments, WangJi is genuinely puzzled by the sight. Wei Ying--

He closes his eyes, scolding himself. Calling the Emperor Wei WuXian is too bold as it is, even in his own mind. It is infuriating, that the man can wreak such havoc on WangJi’s entire existence with nothing more than a few words.

I really like you.

I was not unprotected. Lan Zhan was with me.

No.

Someone in the Immortal Mountain is trying to assassinate the Emperor, and now, there is also a mass-murdering madman loose in YiLing. WangJi will not allow himself to grow distracted. He must be more cautious in governing his thoughts.

Wei WuXian had mentioned that lanterns are released from the Immortal Mountain as well, but this should have occurred hours ago. The Emperor’s palace is the heart of the City, located slightly to the north of the gate, and cannot be the source of the mysterious light.

“Fire,” Wei WuXian says on the other side of him, the words nearly lost in the rush of the wind.

When his voice comes again, it is louder, sharper, a voice that demands attention, “MingJue, those are flames. Something is on fire.”

As if Wei WuXian had issued an order, Nie MingJue separates himself from the formation with a burst of speed. The Nie Sect falls in rank behind him, arranging themselves to the left and right, a wedge that easily cuts through the wind. Soon, they are far ahead, dark robes fluttering in the wind.

“The main palace?” the Rogue Prince asks, “Another assassination attempt?”

He seems unruffled by the fact that someone might have attempted to burn down the Emperor’s palace. Flying on the other side of Wei WuXian, he also seems incredibly at ease for a man who is essentially flying blind.

“The flames are to the south,” Song Lan says, positioned directly behind him.

“Ah,” the Rogue Prince says, “curious. Guests are rarely placed to the south.”

WangJi’s heart drops, turning his knees weak.

The Peach Blossom Pavilion is south of the gate.

His sword pierces the air. He can hear Wei WuXian’s shout, but the words are indiscernible, and already far behind him.

They had assumed that the target would be the Emperor. They had left uncle alone. Alone, in the Immortal Mountain City, in an old pavilion to the south, where no other guests can raise an alarm, even if they cared to. An easy, convenient target.

The Nie Sect is a blur of color and movement against the dark sky. He passes them in the space of a breath. At this speed, the cold air feels like a thousand icy blades on his skin, tearing at his robes, locking the breath in his chest. An alarm sounds the moment he passes over the wall. Wei WuXian had told him about the array, a harmless safeguard intended only to disorient. The sound of the bell ringing is loud enough to rattle his teeth, jarring and nauseating, pressing against his temples. He is out of its reach in a matter of moments.

The Peach Blossom Pavilion no longer has a courtyard wall. It looks to have been torn down in haste, blown in rather than out, bricks and mortar carelessly scattered. There is a chain of Imperial Guards, throwing water onto the flames. There is a barrier of spiritual power keeping the flames from spreading. But it feels quivering and fragile, as if the person holding it is nearing the point of exhaustion.

WangJi notices all of this, somewhere in his periphery, all of it small and unimportant.

The Peach Blossom Pavilion is engulfed in flames.

He dismounts too early, misjudging the distance. When his feet meet the ground, his right ankle folds awkwardly, dropping him to one knee.

The flash of pain is irrelevant. The shouts of the men around him are irrelevant. The waves of heat are scalding after the cold of the flight, making his eyes water. He thinks that someone has landed behind him. Someone is shouting his name. WangJi can see nothing but the wall of flames.

He has to get inside, he has to--

Something latches on to his robe, stopping him. His ankle and knee scream in pain as he tries to shake the grip off and fails.

Fury overwhelms the fear. He whirls, Bichen leaving the sheath, the hilt still icy cold from the wind, flashing to dislodge whoever dares stop him.

It does not land.

XiChen is by his side, his hand gripping WangJi’s wrist so tightly that his fingers immediately begin turning numb. The sound of other blades being unsheathed echoes sharply across the cobblestones, louder than the hungry roar of the fire.

The tip of WangJi’s sword is trembling at the hollow of Nie HuaiSang’s throat.

Nie HuaiSang’s gaze is dark. He does not blink. He does not speak. His breaths are steady and even.

WangJi knows Nie HuaiSang’s appearance well. He would never mistake the boy for someone else.

He had despised this creature from the first time he had laid eyes on him. He had felt pity, and resentment, and a grudging type of respect. But at this very moment, he cannot be sure whose gaze he is holding. This person, expression cold and calculating despite the tip of a blade under his chin, utterly devoid of fear, is not the same Nie HuaiSang that WangJi had judged and found wanting. This boy is a stranger.

“He is at the Jade Sword Palace,” Nie HuaiSang says, his tone flat, “He has inhaled some smoke, but is otherwise unharmed.”

“WangJi,” XiChen hisses.

WangJi lowers the sword, but not by choice. A quivering rush of relief is sweeping through his muscles, threatening to knock him back down to his knees.

He swallows heavily. His throat feels raw from the wind and the smoke.

Nie HuaiSang takes a step back. The light of the flames shifts across his features, and suddenly, he is no longer a stranger, but the same boy WangJi had despised.

Unease ripples down WangJi’s spine.

He thinks he understands now, why this boy is the Royal Companion to the Emperor.

“Put your swords away,” Nie HuaiSang snaps at the Nie Sect, “If you want to be of use, put out the damn fire.”

They do not hesitate to obey. Nie HuaiSang opens his fan and wrinkles his nose.

“I will never get the smoke out of these robes,” he grumbles, then turns away.

The Emperor is standing behind him.

The Emperor is standing behind Nie HuaiSang, his sword still clutched in his grip, his face pale, his hair wild.

WangJi, who had almost killed the Emperor’s Royal Companion mere moments ago, finds that he cannot meet Wei WuXian’s gaze.

“Your Majesty,” Nie HuaiSang says, “we need to speak. In private. Please allow my brother to escort the Young Masters to the Jade Sword Palace. I have placed Lan QiRen in the Imperial guest chambers, but now it seems that we must find a home for a dozen Lan disciples too. Perhaps we can give them lodgings in the East wing?”

The heat of the flames keeps pressing against WangJi’s back, a physical touch he cannot get away from. Inexplicably, now that he knows uncle is safe, he feels small and fragile, as if a single word could shatter him to pieces.

He can see the flash of the Lan Sect robes; the disciples they had brought with them are standing some distance away and grouped close together, doubtlessly worried and afraid. The Nie Sect has joined the line of guards attempting to put out the fire. Someone is yelling at them to move faster; WangJi thinks he recognizes Wen Qing’s voice.

XiChen tugs on his wrist, pulling him away from the Pavilion, and WangJi does not resist.

#the untamed #cql #mdzs #ficlet #m #wwx emperor au #short clumsy chapter #for which i apologize ahead of time #sometimes every sentence is like pulling teeth #i think i need to sleep for 24 hours straight #anyway #ily chickens

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isabilightwood · 3 years ago

Text

THE PROBLEM WITH AUTHORITY - CHAPTER 8

Or, Sacrifice Summon! Jiang Yanli is here to make things right, be the ultimate big sister (step 1: bring back her dead brother), and maybe steal the Peacock throne in the process

[AO3][1][2][3][4][5][6][7]

iang Yanli was thrilled to have A-Xian back, and she absolutely hated his plan.

He’d had little difficulty creating the device that would cloak him in a face meant for meaningless cruelty. He had carved a simple wooden mask, and etched characters into it with unusual care. While Jiang Yanli was still getting A-Ling dressed the next morning, A-Xian sketched a young man sweeping leaves across the street, and she walked down to breakfast to find a stranger sitting comfortably among the Nie.

There was nothing in his features to give away that this was a mask, or a face that did not belong to him. But his smile was still his own.

Nie Huaisang had already managed to find clothes in Nie gray that fit A-Xian. Jiang Yanli had to wonder if he’d prepared them beforehand, somehow remembering A-Xian’s measurements without even needing to ask her.

“Shiji— Ah, I mean, Jin-furen. Are you going to introduce your little monster to me?” A-Xian grinned brightly.

She’d thought he would only be able to glimpse his sleeping nephew. But with this disguise, A-Xian could meet him, and A-Ling would never be able to give him away with a child’s innocence.

A-Ling hid behind her back, suddenly shy, though he had not been with the Nie disciples the day before.

She knelt to get on eye level with her son. “It’s alright, A-Ling. He’s a friend.”

Setting his jaw, A-Ling looked stubbornly away.

“Hold on a second.” A-Xian sketched a talisman in the air, and it burst apart into a flock of glittering butterflies. He’d invented it for distraction, but it also doubled as a foolproof way of charming small children.

A-Ling gaped, his hand dropping from her sleeve, and ran forward to jump for the butterflies. As they disappeared under his grasping hands, he laughed in delight.

A-Xian laughed with him.

“Would you show me that one?” Nie Xiaodan asked. “It would be great for convincing our novices to get up and start their exercises. Some of them think that because their Sect Leader is a layabout that means they can be too.”

Nie Huaisang looked up from dipping his youtiao, soy milk dripping from the end of the fried bread. “Our finances are in better shape than they’ve ever been, and I let her manage night hunts as she wishes, and this is the thanks I get.”

“Except for the ghoul infestations you have us move or neglect to keep the other sects and your own peasantry convinced you’re incompetent.” Nie Xiaodan patted her Sect Leader hard enough on the shoulder that he shifted forward in his seat. “So, yes, this is your thanks, A-Sang.”

“The disrespect, not even calling me Zongzhu!” Nie Huaisang complained, even as he preened.

A-Xian laughed as he moved a century egg from his own congee to A-Ling’s. “Sure, I can teach you the talisman. I bet I could modify it so the butterflies last longer, and change directions when someone comes near, so they have to keep chasing them. What do you think, A-Ling? Would that be fun!”

“Mnnmf,” A-Ling agreed, as a blob of his breakfast failed to make it into his mouth. A-Xian beat her to wiping his mouth off, and A-Ling didn’t even flinch, already comfortable with him. Shiny new playthings and a smiling face worked wonders with children, but she hoped A-Ling somehow recognized that he should be important to him.

Jiang Yanli smiled, and brushed a strand of hair back away from her son’s mouth.

After breakfast, Nie Xiaodan and the other disciples parted from them to retrieve Nie Mingjue’s body, and transport him back to Qinghe for burial.

A-Ling had started out the ride babbling excitedly over a series of talismans A-Xian showed him, but eventually, he tired out and dozed off in Jiang Yanli’s arms, trusting her implicitly to keep him upright on the horse.

“It works like this, see?” A-Xian explained while they were on the road, still wearing that stranger’s face so A-Ling couldn’t describe his real one by mistake, only some friendly Nie disciple. He rode hands free, pressing the mask over a drawing of Xue Yang’s face as he etched new shapes into a second mask.

With his poor memory for faces, A-Xian hadn’t remembered the details of Xue Yang’s features. But Jiang Yanli’s glaring had not been enough to stop Nie Huaisang from describing him.

Qin Su was a voice of reason where she didn’t want one. You do have to admit it is a good plan. Jin Guangyao’s very observant — your brother’s plan could make a huge difference in how successful we are in undermining him.

Jiang Yanli had to admit no such thing. I thought you were afraid of him.

I stopped the moment he brought out the butterflies. It’s incredible to me now that anyone who met him could be frightened of him.

He can be intimidating when he wants to, make it seem like he doesn’t care about anything. For her, it was only terrifying to watch her brother do that to himself. His act fooled almost everyone, even A-Cheng.

But not you.

No, A-Xian had never fooled her.

Jiang Yanli would feel much better if there were someone out there, watching his back. If A-Xian would let himself be convinced to go see his zhiji before he committed to any reckless plans. But he had so far ignored her hinting.

Pressing it over the first mask, his features changed in the space of a blink, and Xue Yang stared back at her.

Only the malice was missing.

He went on speaking, and that was even stranger. “I’ll add on a few more faces, I think, so I can look like a respectable grandfather, or a random street kid at the drop of a hat. It doesn’t really let me change my body’s shape, so I won’t be able to shrink into a stooped little granny, unfortunately — that would be even less suspicious. Faces should be enough though, I think.”

“Very impressive, A-Xian. Switch it back, please?” It was, in fact, a monumental achievement, and one he’d achieved in only a single night. But there was only so long Jiang Yanli could stand to look at that face.

He sketched a talisman over the mask without looking, and with a shimmer of golden light, the first face returned. She would have preferred his own, but this was far preferable to the alternative.

The mask did solve the problem of how to smuggle A-Xian into Koi Tower unseen.

Nie Huaisang was all too happy to handle it.

Jiang Yanli entered Koi Tower first, the disciples she’d dismissed at Fengyang appearing at the city entrance as she’d predicted. The others waited outside the city until evening. She brought A-Ling to greet his uncle, as that was expected.

“I trust you had a productive trip?” Jin Guangyao reached out for A-Ling, and plopped him down on his lap. A-Ling giggled, and began to fiddle with a brush with a wet tip, promptly staining his fingers and flicking ink splotches onto his robes.

“I did.” She clasped her hands behind her back to conceal the way her hands clenched into fists at the sight of Jin Guangyao touching her son. Every time it happened, Jiang Yanli had to fight the urge to grab him away and run as far from Koi Tower as she could get. Though Jin Guangyao spoiled A-Ling, she and Qin Su both knew sharing blood would not be enough to protect him, if Jin Guangyao decided he wanted him gone. “I believe Zhai-zongzhu’s planned watchtower locations will be well situated to respond to their most difficult to reach locations. I also provided a few suggestions to Qi-zongzhu. Many of his choices were too close to a temple sect and one was on land that floods regularly.”

“Good, good. Would you mind summarizing those suggestions for me? Qi-zongzhu can be so absentminded, we may need to remind him.” He steepled his fingers, the effect ruined as A-Ling spread ink across the curve of his cheek. Jin Guangyao’s smile twitched. “Excellent, thank you. You also stopped in to see our dear cousin, I believe?”

Our cousin, Qin Su repeated bitterly.

Her breath caught. “I did, yes. I know they had a falling out with my sister, but we’re still quite fond of each other.”

“I feel the same way about Huaisang, though he does test my patience sometimes.” Jin Guangyao did not bring up any of her subsequent extracurriculars. Instead, he plucked the brush from A-Ling’s fist as he came dangerously close to spreading ink on his uncle’s robes. He very seriously asked A-Ling his opinion on tablecloths for an upcoming event.

With that, Jiang Yanli understood the conversation was over. She turned to leave.

Nie Huaisang had a sense for timing, and chose that moment to test Jin Guangyao’s patience. He burst in, wailing, with a rumpled, mud-stained, an out of breath steward on his heels.

Simply a disciple left in his supposed Sect Leader’s dust, A-Xian was able to slip in unnoticed.

Jiang Yanli met him near the kitchens, and after making certain the coast was clear, led him to Wen Qing’s prison using the same techniques as the first time. Thankfully, this time it wasn’t raining.

She knocked sharply on the closed window.

It was flung open with a bang only moments later, revealing Wen Qing, flushed with anger and her hair out of place from running her hands through it.

Jiang Yanli was struck with an odd, simultaneous desire to fix it and make it worse.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come here in person?” Wen Qing snapped.

They’d had no time to warn her, as the papermen had a limited range. “Jin Guangyao will be occupied for hours, and this is important.”

“I thought you were supposed to be…” Wen Qing trailed off, her eyes widening. “Did it work? Did he fall for it?”

A-Xian stepped out of the shadows, removing his mask. “Hi, Qing-jie.”

Wen Qing gasped, and grabbed for his sleeve. “Oh, my — Gods, get in here so I can smack you. How dare you die after we gave ourselves up for you?”’

A-Xian let himself be tugged over the windowsill.

He freed his arm from Wen Qing long enough to bow. “This one apologizes for his grave blunder.”

Wen Qing sniffed, and gave him a quick hug. He beamed, even as tears gathered in his eyes, and squeezed back.

Jiang Yanli climbed inside while they were busy with their reunion and stayed by the window to watch for anyone approaching. From a distance, it would be difficult to tell her and Wen Qing apart, so they’d have enough time to hide under the bed if someone did arrive at an unscheduled time.

“You look awful,” A-Xian told Wen Qing, once they were seated at her desk. The stack of A-Xian’s journals was still there, but the rest of the table was now covered with illustrations of meridians covered in notes in Wen Qing’s writing. Most were scratched out.

Likely something to do with strengthening Jin Guangyao’s core then.

Rather than take offense, Wen Qin rolled her eyes. “Six years of confinement will do that to a person. You look like death warmed over.”

A-Xian laughed in delight. “That’s because I am death warmed over. I came back to life two days ago.”

“Your sister doesn’t look like that.” Wen Qing said, with a glance at Jiang Yanli that felt like a compliment.

Qin Su, for some reason, giggled.

“Obviously Shijie is better than me.” A-Xian turned to beam proudly at her. He was wrong, of course, in his belief that she was the best and kindest person in the world. He didn’t know how the plans she’d set in motion would inevitably hurt the brother of the man he loved and treated the sovereignty of minor sects like weiqi stones, or how she’d threatened Nie Huaisang. But she smiled back anyways.

I don’t think he’ll judge, when he finds out. Qin Su said.

For the most part, no, he wouldn’t. But knowing would forever change his perception of his beloved Shijie, leaving the reality of Jiang Yanli in her place. And she couldn’t assume he would be so sanguine over Lan Xichen. A-Xian had always respected him, and hurting Zewu-jun would hurt Lan Wangji.

Qin Su gave the impression of a shrug. Maybe seeing you more clearly will be a good thing.

A-Xian and Wen Qing fell into an easy rhythm. Watching them, Jiang Yanli felt warm to her center.

“As happy as I am to see you, that’s not enough reason for a visit.” Wen Qing said, after a few more rounds of banter in which they pretended not to have missed each other. “What went wrong?”

“He’s having problems with Xue Yang’s core.” Jiang Yanli explained, before A-Xian could reflexively deflect from the reason they were here.

Wen Qing whipped her head towards A-Xian so fast her neck cracked. “You have Xue Yang’s core?”

He nodded, rubbing a hand gingerly over its place of residence. “I wasn’t entirely sure a core would stick around, when I designed that array, but it seems like the array reshaped everything around it.”

Groaning, Wen Qing took a moment to bury her head in her hands. “You never bring me normal problems. Next time, bring me a nice pulled muscle.”

“I would also like a pulled muscle to be the extent of my problems.” A-Xian sighed wistfully.

“We can dream.” Wen Qing said, her tone flat and disbelieving. “What are the symptoms?”

“When I’m agitated — angry or frustrated, but not sad —his core feels like it’s trying to tear itself apart. Like how the beginning stage of a qi deviation is described. On top of that, resentful energy is in his core, like he invited it there. It feels horrible.” A-Xian leaned forward on his knees and gestured as he spoke.

Wen Qing nodded, and turned to her. “Have you had any with Qin Su’s?”

She hadn’t experienced anything along the lines of what A-Xian was describing. Qin Su’s core felt almost like her own at this point. There was only the way her sword resisted her, draining her when she tried to use it as a spiritual tool, rather than merely a weapon. “Only when I try to control her sword. Chunsheng doesn’t like me.”

Qin Su slipped into a paperman and climbed up to her shoulder to elaborate. <It saps her energy, so she can barely move, much less cultivate. We’ve kept trying, but there’s no improvement.>

“Oh, it’s not just Jiangzai then? I bet they can sense we’re not really their cultivators, despite the cores.” A-Xian perked up with excitement at the implications, before he visibly remembered that this affected him. “But, no. Qing-jie, the real problem is that Xue Yang thought mixing resentful energy in with his spiritual energy was a grand old time.”

“Let me take a look.” Wen Qing took his pulse first, then sent a thread of her own spiritual energy into him. “This is a mess. All that resentment is trapped in your core, and it’s not purifying on its own. I’d bet Xue Yang had resentful energy flowing through his meridians, which would reduce how much gathered in his core and hold off qi deviation.”

She went silent, concentrating, as she continued her examination.

“Absolutely no demonic cultivation,” was Wen Qing’s verdict. “The array seems to have cleared out your meridians, but this core is — well, it’s a mess worse than even you’ve managed to get into on your own. We need to clean it out completely before I can start to help you manage the occasional use of a little resentful energy. That will take a while. Lie on your back, first.”

A-Xian obeyed, but not without complaint. “But how am I supposed to imitate Xue Yang if I can’t use demonic cultivation?”

Carefully inserting the needles in several points along his torso, Wen Qing closed her eyes and began working with hr spiritual energy though them. “You’re supposed to be a genius inventor, aren’t you? Invent something.”

A-Xian smushed his features together in childish irritation. “You’re irritated. What did I do this time? I just got here!”

Smoke-like wisps of resentful energy rose from the ends of the needles, and to Jiang Yanli’s eyes, vanished as it drifted away.

Qin Su’s paperman craned its neck towards the ceiling. Its features were, of course, blank, but her voice gave away her interest. <Its coiling into ropes up there.>

“Wen Qing has been transcribing your work for Jin Guangyao.” Jiang Yanli told him when it became clear Wen Qing would keep him in the dark. “Your handwriting is…”

“Atrocious. But that’s not the real issue here.” Wen Qing grabbed a notebook from the desk, and dropped it, open, over A-Xian’s face. “I had to explain to my family’s murderer that your notes sometimes cut off in descriptions of Lan Wangji’s eyes. Or lips. Or other body parts!”

“In my defense, I never meant for anyone to see this.” He reached up to pluck the book from his face, and flipped through it, eyes going distant as he stared at one of his sketches.

“Well, I did.” Wen Qing plucked the needles from his meridians. “I need to work on your back now, flip over.”

Retrieving a new set of needles, she repeated her work on his lower back.

“Peace offering?” A-Xian attempted to turn his neck halfway around without disturbing the needles. “You’ve been talking to each other with papermen, right? What if I could offer a simpler alternative? To talk more easily at a distance. I had this idea shortly before Qiongqi… I was hoping to… I never wrote it down, but I remember how it would have worked.”

“You wanted to be able to talk to Lan Wangji, didn’t you?” Jiang Yanli asked softly.

“And you, Shijie!” He slumped, pouting. As though to express his disappointment that she would consider herself less important to him. Which she hadn’t, but A-Xian had never had a very secure estimation of his own importance, so he didn’t expect others to either. “But yes. It’s pretty simple, actually. Just hand me that paperweight? And a few more stones?”

“Stay still until I’ve removed the needles, you idiot!” Wen Qing pushed him back down by the shoulders.

A-Xian grumbled out his impatience, but to Jiang Yanli’s eyes he seemed more genuinely energetic than he’d been since before the attack on Lotus Pier stole everything from them. She doubted it could last, if he went forward with this mad plan of his, but she was pleased to see it.

When Wen Qing finally removed the last needle, A-Xian immediately hopped up onto his knees and grabbed for the paperweight. He hunted around for something else that would suit, and came up with an empty crystalline box free of decorative carvings. Retrieving the same steel chisel he’d been using to carve the masks, and applied it to stone.

“So the distance should be … and the sound. No, wait, wrong radical.” A-Xian muttered to himself as he worked.

<Forget the demonic cultivation, if Wei Wuxian can just invent things like this on the spot, that’s what the cultivation clans should fear him for.> Qin Su slid down Jiang Yanli’s sleeve to the floor, and took a leap in A-Xian’s direction, slowed by the pressure of the air.

“Yes, all the explosions should be a warning to stay far, far away.” Wen Qing said dryly.

Qin Su paused with one paper leg in the air as she readied to take the next leap. <Is this going to explode on us?>

“I mostly explode things when figuring out to work metal, or with fire.” A-Xian looked up to grin mischievously at Wen Qing. “Qing-jie invents surgical techniques. That’s far more scary.”

Shrugging her little paper arms, Qin Su continued towards A-Xian to watch him work.

Wen Qing grimaced, hiding her amusement.

Jiang Yanli wanted to see her laugh.

“You know,” she said, “A-Xian may be right. A cultivator once told me the medical tent was more terrifying than any battlefield he’d ever been on. Right before I had to help a healer amputate his leg.”

Wen Qing let out a surprised peal of laughter, and caught herself, but her eyes sparkled as she looked at Jiang Yanli. She found herself without any desire to look away.

A-Xian whooped in success, and she saw that the stones in his hands had begun to glow. He jumped to his feet, with Qin Su holding onto his leg to avoid being knocked away into a wall.

“Okay, so! Hold this.” He placed an inscribed paperweight or box in Jiang Yanli and Wen Qing’s hands. “Think about each other, and put in just enough spiritual energy to activate a talisman. No more than someone without a Golden Core could manage, or you’ll overload it.”

Jiang Yanli met Wen Qing’s eyes as she thought about Wen Qing’s voice lulling her to sleep, the way she’d protested their presence but seemed secretly pleased, the way she always seemed so surprised to find herself smiling. The paperweight began to glow in her hands.

When Wen Qing’s did as well, she suddenly looked away.

A-Xian cleared his throat, prompting them, “Ok, now say something. Recite a recipe or something.”

Jiang Yanli started to list off the ingredients for doupi, one of the few recipes A-Xian had the patience for, but cut off when she heard her voice coming from the stone in Wen Qing’s hand.

“This is—” Wen Qing’s voice echoed from Jiang Yanli’s stone.

It worked. “What a fantastically useful invention.” She said, and again her own voice was repeated back. A-Xian beamed.

It would be… nice, to be able to talk to Wen Qing, and know she wasn’t projecting her consciousness across Koi Tower, leaving her body unaware and undefended. Without the small, but constant risk of Jin Guangyao walking in and finding her in that unmistakable, compromised condition.

“We’ll need to run some tests to see if maybe I can talk to you from a distance as well, but this should at least prevent you from needing to replace papermen regularly.” A-Xian said, as though he hadn’t just made the greatest breakthrough in cultivation since sword flight.

And done it casually. And not for the first time.

Even more importantly, it was accessible. Anyone could use it.

If they’d had these, after A-Xian defected, when he first had the idea… They had both made mistakes in attempting to save people, in their former lives. The Dafan Wen in his case; A-Xian himself, in hers. But their chief handicap had been the impossibility of regular correspondence without giving the appearance of alliance and putting the fragile, still rebuilding Jiang Sect at risk. Without support from any save her husband and Lan Wangji, neither of whom had anything in the way of political influence, she would have been risking A-Cheng for A-Xian — an impossible choice.

This new invention could have made the difference.

Perhaps now, it could make the difference.

“If it doesn’t, I’m certain you’ll figure it out.” She told him.

“I had better hear from you constantly,” Wen Qing said, in a threatening tone that did nothing to disguise how much she cared.

A-Xian seemed to believe her, more than he ever had when A-Cheng expressed similar sentiments. Perhaps it was the time they’d spent merely surviving together, perhaps the secret they’d shared for so long. Perhaps it was that Wen Qing wasn’t all that much like A-Cheng, really, beyond the surface-level gruffness. There was less difference in their positions, and they shared a common curiosity.

“I want to hear from you every day. I — we — want to know you’re safe.” She needed to know. And with this, the ability to check in at anytime and make sure he was still there, Jiang Yanli might be more capable of watching him leave.

She still hated his plan, though.

“I’ll chatter at you until you’re sick of me.” A-Xian promised with a three-fingered salute and a blinding grin.

Jiang Yanli was going to worry over him incessantly, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#the untamed #cql #wangxian #yanqing #qin su #the sacrifice summon!jyl fic #where the summoner (qin su) sticks around #this time featuring wen qing's needles #and more mad scientist wwx #(also the fact that I completely forgot to post this on tumblr until i completed the next chapter)

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libermachinae · 4 years ago

Text

Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part I: Listen - Chapter 1: A Commotion, Eager and Anxious (Previous)

Also available on AO3! Summary: Arcee arrives on the Lost Light just as someone else is getting ready to leave. Chapter Word Count: 3010

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“Hey, you’ve reached Captain Rodimus’ personal hailing frequency. If you’re calling to complain again about mandatory hab sweeps, please refer to recent events involving briefcases and the hereafter outlawed opening of. If you have news involving foolish, ridiculous, or nonsensical obstacles in our quest, input 1 to be transferred directly to Megatron’s personal comm line. If you have a complaint regarding sign placement, grammatically incorrect maintenance manuals, or that weird temperature difference between floors 7 and 8, input 2 for Ultra Magnus. If you’re lonely and want someone to talk to, input 3 for automatic directions to Swerve’s. Input 4 to be connected with me, provided I’m—”

Beep.

“Rodimus?”

“Blaster! Great timing, we just got back from Fortuna. Don’t talk too long, though, Magnus just handed me my prep for the hearing and these datapads are engraved with his personal insignia.”

“Sure, Rodimus. I’ve got incoming transmission from an unknown caller, not laying down any codes I’m familiar with. Tried pressing for details, but all they’re letting slip is they want to talk to you. Want me to patch them through?”

“Hm. On the one hand, unknown caller with mysterious intentions almost always means trouble, right?”

“We’ve ended up in some axel grease for it in the past, yeah.”

“And the reason we set down on Scarvix was to avoid creating more problems while we deal with the fallout from the last batch.”

“I thought it was to give the crew a day off?”

“And that’s why you’re our morale guy. Ratchet would probably tell me to ignore it, right?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t think he would?”

“Not really sure how the CMO’s opinion is relevant.”

Because Ratchet’s vote was the only one he knew.

“Yeah, never mind,” Rodimus said with a shrug, almost losing his balance in the process. “Ultra Magnus would say the same thing, anyway, and he’s counting on me to get to the hearing on time. He cares so much , he ‘summarized’ Brainstorm’s alleged code infringements himself.” He shifted the armload of datapads. The topmost pad was hanging off the edge, preparing for freefall, but trying to tilt it back to safety risked upsetting the rest of the pile.

“Nice of him,” Blaster said.

“Yep, super nice. He went to so much trouble. Really dug into the details, researched historical precedents, looked at the case from every angle. He probably buried his essay on the origins of Decepticon as an adjective somewhere in here.” The datapad tilted and dropped. Rodimus shifted his weight to one leg and kicked with the other, bouncing the pad off his knee and catching it with his teeth. “You know ‘at? Hure, ‘ut the comm hrough. ‘robably just a co’arketer, anyay.”

“Yes, sir.”

The familiar click and beat of a line being transferred. Rodimus deposited the datapad on top of his stack and started walking again, forgoing his office in favor of a detour to the middle decks. The view there was more impressive, the angle revealing the organic landscape that stretched between the Lost Light and Fortuna, a popular interstellar rest stop with enough mechanical business to make it worth the daytrip. Chomskians were their patrons of choice, but a hand over the faction insignia and most folks would let it slide. Walking the length of the Lost Light revealed a subtly changing view as the gleam of the mechanoid hub altered the silhouette of the city, and Rodimus busied himself tracking the shuttles, jets, and personal aircraft traveling in and out, letting it distract him until his comm came back.

“Am I speaking to Captain Rodimus?” an unfamiliar voice asked. Cybertronian, definitely, but otherwise unknown.

Cool .

“Yep, captain of the Lost Light and quester for the Knights of Cybertron,” he said. “What’s up?”

“This is Autobot Arcee, requesting permission to dock in the Lost Light’s shuttle bay.”

“Arcee?” Rodimus went through the list of all the Autobots he knew, ignoring the space where Arcee’s origin should have been. Some folks, MTOs especially, didn’t like to broadcast that information, and it wasn’t strictly necessary for a personal database search. Regardless, “Sorry, Arcee, I’m not remembering you. Who did you serve under?”

“New recruit. Was working with Prowl for a bit, now Optimus Prime. We’ve met.”

He had to hold himself back from shutting down the call. The datapads wobbled and he quickly righted himself.

“We have?” People who worked for Prowl were strategic about when they released that information. If she really was a new recruit, it was possible no one had explained to her yet that, ultimately, everything led back to him. It was the only justification he could find for staying on the line and not telling Ultra Magnus to initiate an immediate sweep for unauthorized listening devices.

“Well, no. But I crashed a shuttle for you. Into Galvatron.”

“You did?” And just like that he had forgotten Prowl entirely.

“I did. Me and a few others. It didn’t do much, but you and Optimus managed to take care of Vector Sigma anyway, so, bygones.”

Why couldn’t he remember this? It sounded awesome .

“Totally,” Rodimus said, feeling a swell of pride as he remembered the moment Optimus had set aside his doubts and trusted Rodimus’ word on the Matrix. Up until that point, his chosen name had felt ill-fitting, like the myriad of function tests that preceded a new harvest’s official classification. Or, in his darker moments, like the Primes of old, who claimed the Matrix’s blessing despite no legitimate connection to it. Optimus had put his faith in Rodimus, though, in his connection to the Matrix, and that faith had been rewarded , not punished . For once, his destiny hadn’t been priced in spilled energon.

Not that they hadn’t seen any.

“So you decided to get the brand and make it permanent?” he asked, pulling himself back to the present.

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, come aboard. ‘The more the merrier,’ as Megatron would never say. When do you estimate your arrival?”

“I’ve just breached atmosphere, should be there in an hour.”

“Perfect. I’ll send instructions along to open the shuttle bay doors and will be there to meet you.” He passed the news to Megatron and Ultra Magnus and was unsurprised when only the latter acknowledged the alert, as well as a bunch of forms that seemed incredibly tedious and not worth the bandwidth. Maybe once the hearing was over, he could sit down with his co-captain and remind him of the responsibilities he had agreed to as part of his deal. That would be a proper, leader-like thing to do.

Or he could let Megatron continue to wallow in whatever new misery he had concocted for himself. It certainly made his shifts easier.

He and Arcee exchanged farewells and his comm powered down, leaving Rodimus to strategize. Arcee’s arrival meant he did not have enough time to get back to his office, read through all of Magnus’ files, and make it to the shuttle bay, especially with all the effort it would take to even work himself up to unlocking the datapads. Better to make a good impression on their new guest and bump out the least pressing task. He could do his reading once Arcee was settled.

Walking around weighed down by the burden of knowledge was a drag, though, so he stuck to the part of the plan that involved getting rid of the datapads. He spent the remaining walk to his office (longer now after he had inadvertently walked in the opposite direction while on the comm) thinking about what he could do with the surprise free time. Maybe take a quick lap around the lower decks or make his first official visit to “Visages”. Something fun, carefree, and just barely skirting regulations; something normal , to start the work of convincing everyone, again, that things were going to be fine.

~*~

Ratchet was not stalling.

There was a chance he was overpreparing, but better that than the opposite. The galaxy was a big place, and if he was even slightly accurate in his guess of how far Drift would wander in his search for redemption, he would be touching corners of it even the war had never brought him to. So, an abundance of fuel was necessary, at least enough to last two bots a month plus about half that for the journey outward. Then medical supplies: wiremesh bandages, nanite gel, intravenous lines, sparkstarters, sorted boxes of nuts and screws, antiviral uploads, rust repellant, strut stabilizers, soldering wires… The shuttle was turning out better equipped than some of the mobile surgeries he had worked from during the war; even some hospitals had been dangerously low on materials he now found in abundance. For the first time, he had the resources to make sure nothing and no one would be lost to shortage, and he intended to take advantage of that new luxury.

Following that, the next logical step had been to make the rest of the shuttle comfortable as well. Two Morphy berths with recharge docks. A media library of music and movies to pass the time (the former Cyclonus’ recommendations, the latter, Swerve’s). A few selections from his private engex stash. A box of data blockers he had buried deep among the medical supplies and would claim were standard for any med kit if interrogated.

He nudged the box of Hex pieces against the wall with his foot. Was it alright there was nowhere to sit beside the naviconsole and the berths? He had though Drift would appreciate the economy of a smaller shuttle, but with the cargo loaded the atmosphere was shifting from cozy to cramped. Would Drift feel claustrophobic, reminded of squatters’ dens and Decepticon outposts? Drift was also a high-energy bot, who would probably itch for a chance to spin his wheels from time to time. Were the fuel reserves large enough to accommodate multiple planet stops?

Ratchet’s knuckle had worked its way between his teeth before he realized what he was doing. Dropping his hand, he forced himself to turn around and exit the small spacecraft. He was committed. Out of anyone on board, Drift had done the most to earn this home. If no one else was going to step up and do the right thing by returning it to him, Ratchet would resign to do it himself.

He heard a commotion, eager and anxious, as he stepped out into the shuttle bay. The hangar doors were opening, sunlight slipping through the growing crack, and several parked crafts were being taxied out of the way. Not wanting to get cut off by wandering shuttles, he hurried to the pedestrian entrance, where most of the voices were coming from: a small crowd, loiterers looking for the new source of intrigue. Whirl and Tailgate were among them, providing running commentary as the unwieldly ships skirted just shy of scraping each other’s paint off, so it was no surprise to find Cyclonus standing further off.

Perfect. Though Ratchet and Cyclonus were not on bad terms, neither had ever tried to expand their relationship past the occasional long-suffering glance. If it had been one of the bots who had his spark twisting every time he bumped into them in the hallways, Ratchet would have worried about giving his plan away, but he doubted Cyclonus cared whether the something-like-guilt was visible.

“Cyclonus,” he greeted.

“Ratchet.” The older of the two offered a polite nod, though his gaze returned to the door.

“What’s going on? Somebody forget something in Fortuna?” Ratchet kept his voice light, curiosity without investment. A change in routine could mean nothing, but by now everyone knew it could also be the start of something weird, dangerous, or a combination of the two. Either way, it would end up among Swerve’s stand-up material.

“New arrival,” Cyclonus said. “Arcee of the Darklands: a tested warrior with a spark that rivaled Galvatron’s.”

Might as well have called herself Foreboding of Doom and saved his declarative archives the search. Ratchet wondered if he should move his departure up.

“Is she here? Did I miss it?”

Rodimus’ panicked shouts preceded his stumble into the hangar. Ratchet greeted him with a pointed look, which he shouldered by simply not noticing it while his gaze darted around the room.

“Not yet, Rodimus,” Hoist announced over the loudspeaker. “We’re just getting the last shuttles cleared for landing.”

“Oh, thank Primus,” Rodimus said, tilting his head back as his fans released a cloud of warm air. “Fantastic.”

“You look like you gunned it to get here,” Ratchet said, waving away the smell of an overheated engine.

“No, that would be speeding, which is definitely against spacetime law,” Rodimus said, straightening to flash Ratchet a deeply unappreciated grin. “I ran. I told Arcee I would be here to meet her, and it would make for a pretty bad impression of the ship if the captain failed to live up to his promise.”

“Don’t you have a hearing to be getting ready for?” Ratchet asked, the question slipping past his censors. Slag. That was not the note he wanted to leave on. The stress of his impending departure was getting to him more than he had realized.

Rodimus shrugged, unaffected.

“Magnus gave me all the materials, just need to read them. Won’t take long.”

That stirred something in Ratchet’s spark.

“Good to know our justice system is under such attentive care.”

“Perhaps this is a conversation that would be better saved for when we are not moments from new introductions,” Cyclonus interjected, his deep bass distracting enough to halt those emotional processes of Ratchet’s that started to loop out of control whenever Rodimus opened his mouth. He set his vocalizer to standby, not trusting it to wait for his command, and wondered whether it would be better to get out sooner. Before his own smart mouth made his worries a reality.

The appearance of the approaching shuttle did not ease his concerns. Starting as a speck above the horizon, all optics were on it as it approached, a little blob of a spacecraft dangling over the city of Fortuna. Big, for a single occupant. Ratchet hoped he was wrong, but he noticed something further odd as it came nearer.

Whirl took care of that loose thread of optimism.

“It’s purple,” he said, with a coy look at Cyclonus, who ignored it with enviable steadiness.

“It’s a Decepticon vessel.” Ratchet had seen enough in his time. After the fall of Tyger Pax, Autobot regulations had outlawed all colors between navy and magenta for ships, and he could think of no other species brazen enough to steer a spacecraft directly into civilian airspace. “Rodimus?”

“Blaster confirmed Arcee’s ident after our call,” Rodimus said. “Bit of a garish choice for a ride, but it’s her.” He had maneuvered himself to the front of the group, standing at the front like he was putting himself on display for an honored guest.

“That is rich, coming from you.”

“Thanks, Ratch,” Rodimus said, casting over his shoulder a wink and a grin before he turned back to face the oncoming ship. Ratchet’s frown deepened and he ignored the way the gesture reminded him of Drift.

He never knew what the bot had seen in Rodimus. Short-sighted, selfish, and with an ego that could have powered the ship if he could have been bothered to contribute that much, Rodimus’ ability to perform feats no one else would attempt meant he was also prone to making mistakes they neither could have imagined. For all the time Ratchet had spent on the Lost Light , he still had no idea the limits of chaos Rodimus was capable of summoning to it, so he let triage and combat protocols idle in the background while they waited.

It was not a nice landing. The thrusters were still burning several hundred feet out, so they all heard the roar of wind buffeting ailerons as the shuttle struggled to slow itself down. It was only by the combined effects of the Lost Light ’s buffeting shield and the shuttle’s reverse engines that they did not suffer a catastrophic collision, and even then, the shuttle bounced as it finally touched down, coming within feet of kissing Huffer’s personal speeder. Ratchet still did not remember to vent as it struggled through taxiing, twice having to reattempt a maneuver as the combined efforts of Hoist, Rodimus, and a group of volunteers guided it to its designated space. Only when the engines finally shut down did Ratchet hear the collective sigh of multiple hydraulics systems releasing their tension.

“Guess Darkland warriors don’t need to know how to drive,” Ratchet muttered. He thought he heard Cyclonus huff, which was enough to get a chuckle out of him.

That was it, though, because in the next moment Rodimus was rushing to the lowering hatch, his spoiler flicking behind him like an insect wing. Ratchet caught a glimpse of a labyrinthine cargo hold before Arcee stepped forward, filling the space, and descended rapidly. He tensed, ready for something else to come charging out from behind her, but besides a look passed between her and Cyclonus nothing immediately hostile revealed itself.

“Welcome to the Lost Light,” Rodimus said, standing aside to let Arcee descend. The hatch raised as soon as she was standing on the Lost Light’s floor, blocking Ratchet’s view again.

“Yes, thank you.” Her tone was clipped, not the melodic veil of sophistication Ratchet had come to associate with Cyclonus, and she scanned the assembled bots with a look of blatant suspicion. Ratchet could relate to that, if nothing else.

He glanced at the purple ship once more while Rodimus led Arcee in the direction of the rec rooms while the rest of the crowd dispersed. Ratchet himself would never believe in anything as a sign or omen, but the sight of the purple plating made old welds ache, and he found his resolve. He would go get a drink. He would attend the hearing. And then, goodbyes or no, he was leaving that night.

#maccadam #transformers #rodimus #ratchet #my writing #longfic #fault lines #im posting this so late 😂#life happens yknow

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mythicamagic · 4 years ago

Text

Sesskag week Day 7: hurt/comfort

Summery: Decades have passed since the Bone Eater’s well closed. Kagome discovers an injured Sesshoumaru within the shrine grounds one day, having fallen through time into her era. Until the well opens again, he is stuck within modern times, but finds an unlikely bond with the unaging, isolated miko. Oneshot. For Sesskag Week Day 7 - free day.

Rated T

7,700 words

AN: For the last Sesskag week prompt it was a free day, so I chose Hurt/comfort, with a side order of angst bc that's what I'm about lol sorry for the late entry.

Warning: some grief

(all prompts posted on Ao3, fanfic.net and Dokuga)

Together Alone

The sun blazed brilliant hues of orange as it ascended the horizon, slowly inching further into a tangerine sky. A figure stepped outside, feeling a slight breeze tease at the ends of her hair. Not for the first time, Kagome gave thanks to whoever had decided to build their home on a hill, blessing them with the ability to see the vast spread of Tokyo city. Flinching as she stepped out of the shade, blue eyes focused, and she blinked, adjusting to the light.

Walking further into the courtyard of the silent Higurashi shrine, she noted an abundance of leaves scattered around the place. Great piles of flame-filled colours had accumulated, spread out like her own personal confetti. Kagome smiled ruefully.

Autumn had arrived.

Having overslept, she took up a broom as an excuse to move stiff muscles. As she swept the stray leaves up, amusement touched her face. The image of a redhead fox leaping into the firey leaves played through her mind. She didn't stop to acknowledge the nostalgic thought.

As she brushed a few leaves with a little too much force into a waiting, bigger pile, Kagome noticed a tuft of something white sticking out of it. At first, she assumed it to be feathers of some sort and poked the broom over the pile slightly. Yet the more leaves she uncovered, the more white she found, until a particularly long strand of it made her pause.

Hair.

Her miko powers flickered like a forgotten lightbulb that had long since fizzled out, briefly awakening. Sensing a presence under the leaves, Kagome's face became unreadable as she crouched down. Beginning to pluck them off, some of the fine silky strands clung to her hands, and her fingers twitched in response. It felt so soft. The thick volume of hair eventually gave way to pale skin. Kagome's eyes widened. A pointed ear lay under the pad of her thumb. Hastily sweeping the remaining locks aside to reveal a demon's delicate features, the priestess stilled, breath catching.

To say he was beautiful was an understatement. Ethereal perhaps. She couldn't suppress the quiver in her fingers, spying magenta markings adorning his cheeks. Her heart thundered, and she swallowed thickly.

"Sesshoumaru."

Viciously suppressing the ache in her chest, she held out hope that he wasn't lying dead on her doorstep.

Shaking his shoulder, she noted the muscle beneath her palm that his slim figure belied. He was dressed exactly as she remembered, albeit a bit more rumpled, armour broken.

"Hey-" she cleared her throat. "Wake up sleeping beauty."

Feeling for a pulse, a steady thrum fluttered under her fingers.

Kagome gave a huge sigh of relief even as his eyes remained closed.

Reaching through the pile and awkwardly sliding her hands under his arms, Kagome was heedless of the falling leaves scattering around them as she started dragging him. Hoping the Daiyoukai wouldn't kill her for touching him without permission, she heaved, returning back inside with her unexpected guest.

----

Stirring a few hours later, a bright cosmos of golden fire burned alive within demonic irises as his eyes snapped open, blinking up at the ceiling.

"Where...?"

Kagome sat in an armchair near the couch he lay upon, reading. She turned when hearing his voice, rising. "You're in my home."

The moment his gaze swung to her, Sesshoumaru jolted upright. He stared in disbelief, raking his attention down her body. "Impossible."

"I didn't die all those years ago, so I'd say it's pretty probable that I can stand here in front of you," she smiled a little, offering him a glass of water that had been waiting on the table.

Sesshoumaru's eyes widened, shifting fractured attention around the room, returning it to her and observing the contours of her face. "Why have you not aged?" he carefully inquired. "Many years have passed. 20, if memory serves."

Kagome's lips thinned and she set the glass down again. "I dunno, something happened with the jewel or the well. I couldn't figure out which, so-" she smiled wryly, spreading her arms out and turning in a circle. "I'm pretty much physically stuck at age 16. Even though I'm actually around 36. I don't know if I'm just not aging or if I'm immortal. It sucks."

He blinked, scenting the air. "...This one is not picking up the smell of death lingering around you as it does with all humans. Immortality can be assumed then."

A complicated expression crossed her face. "O-oh," she murmured, falling quiet.

Raising a brow, the demon ghosted long claws over his face, something slowly occurring to him. "How did this one come to be here?"

Kagome shook herself and scrambled to retain her bravado. "I should be asking you that. Sleeping in a pile of leaves isn't what I expected from the mighty Lord Sesshoumaru. Then again, you always were quite in touch with nature. Going on long walks and stuff," she smiled a little.

"Hn," Sesshoumaru shifted his feet over the edge of the couch, brushing long hair back and stopping to remove a few leaves. "I should be going," he said primly.

"Uh- sorry for interfering but do you even know where you are?"

"Of course I do," he tutted, before hissing and stilling. Pressing a hand to his side, he felt the rough scrape of bandages under his clothing. They were wrapped around his ribs. His face skittered with an unnamed expression, pinning her with a dark look.

Kagome had the grace to seem mildly guilty before her gaze turned flat. "I put your clothes back on after binding your wounds. You're welcome."

"I did not ask for your assistance." His lip lifted, exposing a fang while pressing his palm against his side protectively. Yet he felt no serious wounds, and that the miko had assisted him while he'd been vulnerable was something he had no choice but to acknowledge.

Kagome's hand raised in a placating gesture. "You're on the defensive, I understand that. But don't get crabby," she drew closer. "We were allies in our fight against Naraku. You can still trust me, even if it has been a while."

The passionate, cold glow in his eyes lessened slightly, and Sesshoumaru exhaled. "...This one recalls fighting near the Bone Eater's Well. An enemy struck- and I…" a steel edge threaded his calm voice, obviously frustrated.

Kagome's brows drew together, "you fell down the well," she finished softly, face drawn. "I wonder why it opened to let you through. It's always been closed for me, ever since that day a long time ago."

"Perhaps it is still open?"

The miko looked sceptical and jaded, breathing out and pushing some hair behind her ear.

"I must see-" he stood, eyes widening as his knees buckled. Kagome quickly caught him about the shoulders, pressing against the hard line of his body in order to steady him. Sesshoumaru's nose briefly dipped into soft, dark hair. She smelled of warm home comforts and the stifled tease of holy power brimming under her skin.

It dazed him enough not to realise she'd gently guided him back down to sit. "Stay here, mister. I can't be lugging you about again if you collapse," blue eyes danced. "I'll go take a look. Be back in a flash," Kagome released him and walked from the room.

Sesshoumaru stared, before turning his attention to the structure he found himself in. The house lay near-silent, but he could detect the faint, gravely sound of breathing in another room. A human. Older, weak.

It smiled faintly of feline too, and his keen gaze sought out the thin, discarded hairs of a shedding house-cat littered on the arm of a chair. His nose wrinkled.

Kagome's home also held the strange, buzzing feeling of energy running through its walls like a nervous system. He followed the hum of power down the side of a wall, trailing his eyes over bizarre, thin black rope connecting to a square box in the corner of the room.

"No dice."

He jolted, bristling at being caught unawares. Kagome smiled gently from the threshold, a faint sheen over her eyes.

Sesshoumaru blinked, not picking up the trace of tears. She'd held them back.

"Explain."

"The well is closed again, so looks like you're stuck for the time being," Kagome hummed, tapping her chin. Noticing the alarm flashing in his eyes, she changed her tone to an assuring one. "If it opened once to let you through, I'm confident it'll do it again. You can take the time to heal here in the meantime, no one will harm you. I think I mentioned this to you before but there's no fighting or killing in Tokyo like in your era, so be on your best behaviour during your stay. There's a garden out back, and a small amount of trees bordering it if you want peace and quiet. I don't think it's a good idea for you to leave the shrine though."

"...Very well," he muttered quietly.

Thinking for a moment, the demon decided it bothered him enough to inquire; "who is the aged human in this house? I hear them."

Surprise skittered over her face, soon gentling. "That's my Grandpa. I live here with him alone- ah- aside from Pyon."

Sesshoumaru sneered. "The feline."

Kagome blinked and burst into a delicate laugh- and had it always been so dusty and gentle? For some reason he recalled it being more full of life and childish.

"You'll have to grin and bear it, for the time being at least," she winked. "Want something to eat?"

"I do not consume human food."

Kagome pursed her mouth, and Sesshoumaru fought the incredibly random urge to take her bottom lip between his teeth, quickly shaking himself. "I've got some fresh meats from the market. No seasoning or anything. Will those do?"

"Hn."

---

Due to his demonic blood, Sesshoumaru merely needed to lounge on the couch for a few more hours before feeling his wound tentatively heal.

He listened, hearing shuffling upstairs and Kagome's gentle voice. Sesshoumaru looked over the back of the couch to observe an incredibly aged human move stiffly into view at the top of the stairs. Kagome helped him onto a chair- which then began to slowly descend the steps via a mechanism attached to the wall.

Sesshoumaru stared.

He had never seen such an old man. Usually, mortals died before managing to reach such an age, vulnerable to disease and such. Kagome followed and helped him to the armchair in the living beside Sesshoumaru, smiling at the demon.

"Grandpa, this is-"

"Demon," the old man rasped in an accusing voice, not looking in his direction.

Sesshoumaru arched a brow.

Kagome beamed. "Yes, Grandpa! But his name is Sesshoumaru. Mind your manners."

"Inuyasha can like it or lump it," Grandpa huffed, pressing a small device. The square box suddenly flared to life, making the demon jolt.

Loud noises assaulted his ears, tiny mortals behind the screen doing bizzare things, dressed in costume and talking very animatedly about a- Sesshoumaru squinted- energy drink?

Gentle fingers smoothed over mokomoko. Golden eyes snapped to her touch, noticing the bristling fur she was trying to calm.

"It's just television. This is what people watch for entertainment or if they're bored."

Sesshoumaru made a non-committal noise. He didn't like it.

Kagome smiled at him sympathetically and offered a hand- which the Daiyoukai reluctantly took, pride stinging. He grit sharp teeth while they made their journey through the house, disliking her soothing closeness and the fact that he found her scent appealing.

Eventually, they made it outside, stepping into the lush, rich sunlight and walking through the courtyard that stretched wide. Sesshoumaru glanced around. "The smell of smoke and other fumes are distinct here."

"It's because of the city," Kagome murmured, arm around his waist to hold him steady. He suspected it was a habit she'd gained from looking after Grandpa. The demon did not need her assistance but also neglected to push her away. "That's Tokyo- see. It's what Kaede's village will become."

Golden eyes followed the point of her finger, gazing out at the large, bustling city beyond the shrine. It looked nothing like he'd ever seen before. Their buildings were tall and imposing. He knew the miko to be from the future, but Sesshoumaru hadn't taken much time to envision what it would be like.

"Why do I not sense any demons?" he muttered.

Kagome winced, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know. I haven't sensed them in the city."

"They are likely cloaking themselves from detection then," Sesshoumaru confidently assumed. Anything else was unthinkable.

The miko didn't reply, watching him glance around.

"Hn, this one was going to sleep out here. However, I do not think it would be a peaceful rest."

"If the garden isn't to your liking then I'm not sure what else to recommend. I do have several plants inside my room, they can make the air feel more clear, right? You can sleep there if you want."

"Very well," he uttered, moving to brush past her. A hiss escapes clenched teeth when his ribs blazed to life with pain and he found herself resting against her side for a moment. Kagome's warm hand felt steady on his waist. She didn't breathe a word, assisting him back inside.

---

It was a painstaking process to try and usher the proud demon up the stairs. Kagome had almost suggested taking Grandpa's stairlift before Sesshoumaru's narrowed gaze had swung to her, stifling the words on her tongue.

"Is this is your room?" he asked once they reached it.

"My childhood bedroom to be exact. I sleep in Mama's old room now," Kagome arched a brow, expecting his sharp tongue. "Is it to your liking, my Lord?" she teased.

"It is very… pink."

A smile quirked her lips. "Hopefully the bed is big enough for you. There's a bathroom in the hallway if you want to be experimental and take a shower. There's always a bath too. Do you need anything else?"

"No."

"Alrighty then, goodnight."

Kagome's heel drew back and she turned, moving away. She was rewarded with the soft cadence of his voice.

"...Thank you."

She blinked, wondering why those words made warmth fan into her hollow feeling chest. Glancing over her shoulder, the miko watched with fascination as he settled onto her much too small bed, silver hair tumbling down to the floor. Leaving soon after, a buzzing took flight in her ears that thrummed through her bloodstream.

Tears pricked blue eyes, and Kagome leaned heavily against a wall once she'd reached the privacy of her own bedroom, pressing a hand to her mouth. Unmitigated relief choked fire up her throat, battling with resentment.

She'd worked hard. She'd worked so damn hard to keep the memories of her friends in the feudal era hidden away in a box. To continue living every day in the cold, repetitive present time.

Cramming her feelings away into that neat and tidy box again, Kagome pushed away from the wall to go check on Grandpa for the umpteenth time.

---

Mama had died at the much too early age of 57.

It had been so long since the well had closed. Now at 36, Kagome supposed she should've probably shared her secret with more people, to keep her in a friendship circle of some sort. Souta had moved out, married and had kids. He still visited sometimes but it didn't feel like nearly enough. She supposed her isolation made her needy, though Kagome never voiced it.

Sesshoumaru had gotten antsy waiting around. He'd consumed almost all the reading material in her house already during his stay, soaking in information like a sponge. "I wish to see the city," he uttered, shooting the cat a glare as Pyon brushed against her leg, purring. "Despite the foul smells, if this one is to remain here for a little while longer, I should like to know my surroundings."

Kagome hadn't refused but had given a few conditions. One was that he couldn't go off on his own (lest he be angered and melt a car) and two, that he looked and dressed the part.

Dying her own hair the colour of chestnut in the bathroom, Kagome had offered a bottle of black hair dye for the demon lord. Sesshoumaru, while holding his nose, had flatly refused.

To her surprise then, he'd swept claw-tipped hands through snowy silver locks, the colour bleeding dark black.

"H-how did you do that?" she'd asked, rinsing her hair over the tub.

"It is a simple enough thing to modify one's appearance when you are a strong enough youkai," he'd sniffed.

When she'd finally finished up and wandered downstairs, he flicked his attention over her appearance just as she drank him in. The magenta stripes and crescent moon were missing, claws retracted but nails still sharp. He couldn't hide the pointed ears, so had swept dark hair into a low ponytail so that the thick volume of strands covered them.

Kagome's hair had been cut shorter, now above her shoulders and appearing brunette.

"Would it not be easier for you to wear a wig?" he asked, uncertain why she needed a disguise too.

She blinked as though roused from a dream, cheeks colouring. "Maybe, but it feels easier to step into a different persona like this. Besides, it's been so long since I last wandered around outside the shrine. We tend to get all our stuff delivered here."

Sesshoumaru arched a brow. "How long has it been?"

"I think 5 months?"

He stared but didn't say another word. In accordance with her conditions, Kagome uncovered father's old clothes from the depths of the attic. Mother had kept them in mint condition for years, so she'd refrained from discarding them. Sesshoumaru dressed in the old white shirt, business shoes and suit jacket, finding the latter a little too small.

"Can't you just enlarge your body into it if 'it's simple enough to modify one's appearance?" Kagome teased.

He tossed her a dry look. "Outward appearance. Some things cannot be changed. If I could adjust myself so easily, I'd have re-grown my severed limb much quicker."

She giggled, trying not to eye him in the navy suit. Noticing his struggle with the black-tie, she sighed and drew closer, reaching up and fixing it.

Golden eyes snapped to her face, body stilling as though waiting for something. Kagome flashed a small smile, gently tapping the area beneath his eye. "You'll have to do something about these as well," she murmured.

Pale lashes lowered slightly, animalistic pupils rounding. Gold dulled into earthy brown tones. "Humans are so plain in appearance."

Kagome pinched his side. "Rude," drawing away and grabbing some contacts, she slid brown over her naturally blue eyes.

Sesshoumaru frowned, wandering outside into the stuffy, clogging city air. Perhaps to humans, it didn't smell so intense, but he was Daiyoukai. Superior senses were hard to mute.

Hearing the creak of wheels, he glanced over one shoulder, watching Kagome help Grandpa outside, pushing his wheelchair. "You are bringing him?" he uttered flatly.

Some of her old temper sparked across her face. "I can't leave him alone, and besides, Grandpa could use the fresh air."

"Are the sakura blossoms in bloom yet?" the old man asked listlessly.

She smiled, tucking the blanket over his legs a little neater. "No, Grandpa. We're in September, so it's a little late."

He grumbled in discontentment, becoming quiet as Kagome wheeled him towards the back of the shrine. Beyond the trees was a road that zig-zagged down to houses.

"What are you doing?"

Kagome glanced back at Sesshoumaru, who stood within the courtyard near the stone stairs she'd used to take for walking to school. "I can't wheel Grandpa down those steps. Well- I can, but it'll take a lot longer and I'm- AHH!" she yelped, feeling an arm wrap around her waist and yank so that both feet left the ground. Sesshoumaru then reached down and lifted Granpa's chair above his head with one hand- the old man barely reacting to the elevation.

Sesshoumaru lept into the air, sailing down the shrine steps in a fast descent, dark hair fanning out behind him. Kagome screamed, clutching his side as the demon carried them down like they were nothing more than pizza boxes he needed to deliver.

Touching down at the bottom of the stairs and releasing her, Sesshoumaru set Grandpa down, who hummed.

"Thank ye, Inuyasha."

"I am not Inuyasha."

Panting, Kagome clutched at the floor, whipping her head up to glare at him. "What the hell?! Don't do that without warning! Someone could've seen- Grandpa could've fallen!"

Sesshoumaru snorted. "You act as though this one could make such an error."

Growling, she straightened and started wheeling the old man down the street. Trying to ignore the thrilling flush of her cheeks or the memory of flying through the air on Kirara or Inuyasha's back, she shook herself. Her heart hadn't thundered so fast in years. "Behave yourself or we go home."

Cutting his eyes to the sky, Sesshoumaru followed at a languid pace.

---

Tokyo proved to be ridiculously large. Sesshoumaru had assumed he'd be able to traverse the city on his own if the two mortals slowed him down, but as it was, he feared getting lost within the bowels of technology, noisy arcades and large buildings.

Walking around made him more aware of the ill-fitting suit jacket, though he did not protest. Oddly enough the miko took him to a store and bought a sleek black jacket that was more his size. He'd glanced at the price tag and noticed the card she used to pay, wondering how she supported herself.

Kagome took him to more shops and bought more casual wear for the house, including a grey oversized hoodie that he resolved to burn the second they got back.

Finally sitting down at a table outside a cafe, Sesshoumaru took a few breaths. Smells from many different types of foods flooded his nostrils, along with the deafening sounds of thousands of people moving around in huge clusters. He'd been trying to ignore it for hours. His head spun with the onslaught of new sensations and scents. Too much.

"Hey-" Kagome touched his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Sesshoumaru eyed her, nostrils flaring. Unfortunately, her usual pleasant scent radiating from her hair had been tarnished by the dye. His attention slid to the material wrapped around her neck.

"Give me your scarf."

"Hm?" She blinked but readily relinquished it, handing it over. "Cold?"

"No," he scoffed, wrapping it around his neck and ducking his nose into the material, inhaling. The scent of gentle citrus and warm home comforts filled his senses, soothing them like a gentle caress.

Kagome's cheeks reddened and she glanced away, helping Grandpa eat his soup.

"Izumi?"

Jolting, she looked up in time with Sesshoumaru, who eyed the young male standing near their table with immediate annoyance. He looked happy and star-struck, no doubt harbouring a crush on the miko.

Kagome forced a smile and stood. "Ryota, hey. How are things?"

"They're good! I'm so happy to see you out and about," he burst. "You should've called me- you know you're welcome to come around any time. Dad wouldn't mind!"

"I'm sure he wouldn't," she smiled delicately, not protesting as Ryota took her hand and squeezed it.

Sesshoumaru bristled and busied himself with sipping his tea.

"Ah um- Ryota, this is my friend, Nao," Kagome introduced Sesshoumaru, who inclined his head. Ryota bowed slightly, eyes darting between them questioningly and finding his attention caught on the pink scarf wrapped snugly around the demon's neck. While Kagome chatted some more, Sesshoumaru dipped his head and inhaled the material again, maintaining eye contact with the male. Ryota looked mildly creeped out, which only made Sesshoumaru preen, thinking he'd successfully intimidated him.

"Kagome, did you get me some green tea?" Grandpa spoke up.

Instead of being suspicious, Ryota merely looked sympathetic as she nudged the tea into his hand and carefully helped him take a sip, arthritis having made his fingers stiff.

"I see your Grandpa hasn't improved," the young man whispered to her, before raising his voice to an obnoxiously loud, patronising level. Or at least Sesshoumaru thought of it that way. "Hello, sir! HOW… ARE… YOU… TODAY?" Ryota patted Grandpa on the shoulder.

He grumbled sourly in response, sipping his tea. It didn't detour the teen, who smiled at Kagome.

"Well, the offer is always open, Izumi. It must be so lonely up in that shrine by yourself."

"I'm really alright. I have Grandpa for company," Kagome gently dismissed.

"Give me a text any time. I gotta get back to class but I'll see you later," he said amiably, hurrying into the passing crowd while checking his watch.

Waving him away, Kagome retook her seat with a sigh, "whew. He's sweet but I feel like saying 'buddy, I'm actually old enough to be your mom'," she giggled, pausing and noticing Sesshoumaru's stare. "What?"

"Nothing."

Feeling the need to explain, she sighed. "I was friends with his father in school. I can't hang around him too much or there's a chance Hojo might show up and likely recognise me. I faked my death years ago because I stopped ageing and have been posing as Souta's daughter ever since. We've arranged it so that I look like I'm homeschooled. This way… I can keep living at the shrine and looking after Grandpa."

"That explains why you do not leave the grounds much," he uttered, reading the menu and flicking his gaze up to her. "You are afraid."

"Wouldn't you be?" Kagome snorted. "People might perform science experiments on me if they knew I wasn't ageing!"

"I do not think that is the reason behind your fear."

She bristled and glanced away, telling him he'd hit the nail on the head. "Who knew you were the type to psychoanalyse," forcing a smile, she giggled and stood. "Drink your tea. I'll go pay for our things," she wandered off.

Sesshoumaru watched her go, halting Grandpa's chair without looking as the old man unknowingly tried to wheel backwards into traffic.

"You should take better care of her, Inuyasha," the old man huffed.

"Hn," his eyes remained on the miko.

---

Several hours later, after they'd seen the sights of the city some more and experienced a train ride, the small group had wandered home and immediately headed to bed. Sesshoumaru appeared within her bedroom not long after.

A dark halo of ebony hair spread out on her pillows, the locks curled in disarray. He noted that she slept very quietly, knees tucked up and hands drawn close to her chest. She looked every bit as beautiful and innocent as he'd figured a young priestess could be, but the shapely line of her legs and outline of certain curves made him certain she'd kept up her physical training long after the need for bows and arrows had died out. A pity her powers had been malnourished.

The bed dipped with his weight as he sat beside her, large claw-tipped hand reaching out- thumb ghosting over her parted lips, hovering over the pulse at her neck.

Kinship with a human felt odd. Yet he couldn't deny the telltale flickers of relatability he'd witnessed. He too, remained the same as others around him grew old. That was the price of keeping company with mortals. She was like him, and yet not. Instead of becoming integrated with humans as he had, she'd shut herself away within the shrine; afraid of the pain of loss. Kagome wore loneliness like a cloak, draping it around her protectively. She was now more like a demon than a human in lifespan, but her heart was not befitting of one. Now she almost resembled a half-demon.

And she needed a pack.

Some sickening, cloying emotion dried up his throat, leaving it parched and scratched. It hurt to swallow. His claws quivered, merely inches from delicate skin, before his fingers clenched and drew away.

Kagome did not stir as he moved off the bed, leaving as silently as he'd appeared.

Unbeknownst to the demon, deep blue eyes slowly drew open.

---

"You have not asked about them," he pointed out a few days later.

Kagome paused in her cleaning, before resuming scrubbing a pot with distracted motions. "I guess not."

Memories rose to the surface like a scuffed knee threatening to bleed but Kagome shook them away. "I'm not ready to know what happened to them yet," she amended, softer. "What about you though, how's your uh… stronghold?"

Sesshoumaru blinked languidly. "What?"

"Your palace?" she tried again, seeing another equally blank look. "Estate?" Groaning when he said nothing, Kagome waved her hands in frustration. "Aren't you a Lord or something?"

"Ah," he finally responded, glancing away dismissively. "You heed Jaken too much. I have no official home."

It was Kagome's turn to stare. "H-hah?"

Sesshoumaru arched a delicate brow as though she were the foolish one for daring to assume a regal demon clad in expensive silks had a shiny castle to return to. "My father was a General, and he claimed territory over the Western Lands, but he did not rule it like a Lord. My mother is more high born than he. She dwells within a castle and has noble blood-"

Kagome's eyes lit up.

"But I have no lands to inherit."

She deflated. "So you're a vagabond."

He brushed some hair over one shoulder. "I prefer to think of it as; no one may house me. I may go where I please."

Kagome eyed him dryly. "You're single, aren't you?"

He bristled. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Figures," Kagome huffed and lifted the pot, walking to the cupboard as she dried it. "You sound like some sort of playboy bachelor with that 'no one can house me' stuff. Honestly, now that I'm paying attention, you really do sound as young as you look. Like you're 19-" she stopped herself from bumping into his chest as he suddenly stood close.

"... I do not take many lovers," he muttered. "But when I do, it is not for 'play.' I assure you I can be quite serious in a relationship." He loomed closer, breath fanning over her cheek. "Do you wish for a sample?" He asked in a silky voice.

Kagome flushed and huffed, elbowing him out of the way to put the pot within a cupboard. What a joker.

----

Wandering downstairs that night, Kagome stopped, noticing something and doing a double-take. Sesshoumaru lay sprawled on the couch, silver hair tumbling down onto the floor as he slept soundlessly. Pyon was curled up on his stomach-and even stranger was the fact that Sesshoumaru's arm curled beneath him, supporting the feline from falling off.

Kagome crept closer, looking at them from over the back of the couch.

She examined his face in the dim light. It was ridiculously, absurdly handsome, closed long lashes hiding golden eyes that could pierce through her shell and pry into her essence. Cheekbones you could cut diamonds with, framed by neatly parted, snowy bangs.

All the magic from Kagome's experiences in the feudal era was now contained in this one man. A demon that most feared and cowered before. She wondered if she wanted him close simply because of nostalgia, or because he brought her joy in his quiet sarcasm and stable presence.

But he'd leave her too, one day.

Kagome's smile bent into a painful curl of her lips.

Sesshoumaru's nostrils flared and he inhaled- before golden eyes slid open. She stiffened and tried to smooth her forlorn expression into something more amiable. "S-sorry, I'm not watching you sleep, I swear!" she babbled. "Was just wondering if you'd checked the Bone Eater's Well for any changes tonight."

"No."

"Ah, gotcha," Kagome floundered. "At least when it does open, your injuries have all healed so you're fine to go."

"Is that what you want?"

She stopped, feeling like she'd been denied an expected step on the stairs and felt her foot plummet through the ground. Reeling, her heart picked up speed. "Of course it is," Kagome said quickly, turning away. "The Fuedal Era is where you belong, silly. You've been a lovely guest. Really, I've enjoyed it. For a vagabond, you fold your clothes neatly and don't make a mess. You read a lot, so it's still pretty quiet, but you also..." her voice became brittle, "you also- play shoji with Grandpa and make great tea. When I do things, I know you're not too far away. It's been nice. I mean that."

Making to walk away, she was halted by a firm hand catching her wrist. Sesshoumaru had sat up now, disturbing the cat and staring at her with unblinking eyes.

"You should come with me."

Her stomach twisted and she shook her head, looking at him with tired eyes. "I can't."

"Nonsense."

"I have Grandpa to look after."

"Your brother could easily-"

"No, he couldn't," Kagome cut in. "Souta has a wife and a big family to support. He gives us money- weren't you wondering how we're kept afloat? I try to help by doing online work but Grandpa isn't someone you can just expect to look after so easily on top of everything else. I couldn't ask or expect Souta to take over just for me to run off and play in the Feudal Era again, abandoning a life I've known for decades now."

White teeth flashed, exposing a sneer in the dim light, his eyes narrow. "Your Grandfather will be dead soon."

Sesshoumaru never regretted anything. He was too strong, too proud, too confident to make a misstep. And yet at that moment, he regretted the words immediately after they were out.

If she were younger, still the spirited girl of 15 he'd known and the person she outwardly resembled- Sesshoumaru wagered she'd have slapped him. Instead, the miko gave him something that felt altogether much worse; a look of disappointment.

As a demon, he never felt like a young pup except within the presence of his mother and ancient elders, but he experienced it again, watching as she slowly padded to the threshold of the doorway.

"Yeah, he will be. And after Grandpa and Souta go, I'm never going to get attached to anyone again. It's too painful. But I'm making the most of the time with him I have left. Besides," Kagome glanced at him tiredly. "From where we sit, won't everyone eventually be dead soon?"

Sesshoumaru's eyes flickered as she left. The image of Rin with her husband and children, all eventually greying and leaving him alone passed through his mind.

It was true, the miko could theoretically return with him to the past. However, what awaited her would be the same. Time's cruelty working it's will on her friends and everyone she'd used to know in the village.

Drawing himself up and absentmindedly grabbing Bakusaiga, Sesshoumaru wandered to the Well House. He stood within its damp structure for a while in silence, not particularly waiting for a response any more, rather trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

The scent of nameless magic stirred in the breeze. He stiffened, lifting his head and scenting the cool air. Silver bangs lifted to sway, silks rustling. With a small hop, he stood on the mouth of the well, gazing into its dark depths.

With just one jump he'd be home.

Sesshoumaru's muscles coiled, heart thundering. Pushing off from the edge, he took the plunge.

----

Stifling the sound of tears in the bathroom by keeping the faucet running and muffling sobs into her hand, Kagome cried. She hadn't done so in a long time. The action felt childish, but a welcome sensation. Pent up stress, loneliness and frustration burst like a dam. She'd felt the whisper of magic. The call back to the Bone Eater's Well. It had been fleeting, gone now, along with any happy feelings that had been elicited because of Sesshoumaru's surprise presence into her life.

"Stupid," she mumbled, splashing her face with water while bending over the sink. "Stupid, stupid- he was always going to leave."

I shouldn't have gotten attached.

But Kagome was a people person at heart. She'd been afraid. So deathly afraid of getting close to someone and having them leave again. Why had she slipped? Because he would live a long time, just like her?

"That doesn't make him beholden to me- stupid, stupid-"

"Enough."

A jolt shuddered through her system, making Kagome whip her head up to blink at the mirror. Sesshoumaru's reflection lingered in the open doorway behind her, crossing the distance between them as she turned. Lithe fingers ceased her chin. "It is admirable, how hard you have tried to appear unruffled and happy, miko," he muttered lowly. "But you cannot fool my superior senses. I have felt you crying out for pack all this time."

Her expression shuddered, crumbling before his very eyes. "Y-you stayed?" she croaked.

"Naturally," a sharp claw brushed over her jaw gently, collecting the evidence of forgotten tears. "Something I have come to understand over the years is that; One does not abandon pack."

Kagome's breathing hitched, feeling the keen press of a great weight sinking into her chest and rendering her exhausted. Relief. Wilting like a flower, she leaned into his strong frame, burying her face in the warmth of his shoulder. The demon lowered his head slightly, both soaking in the presence and stability of the other for a moment. Her thin shoulders shook, small noises escaping her.

He growled into her hair. "Your idea of remaining unattached does not suit you. Look at yourself, miko. You grew attached to me of all beings," he smirked slightly. "I do not think you can handle remaining separate from people. You love humans too much. And… besides that… I believe it should be you telling me to make the most of the time spent with others, not the other way around. To make bonds, and keep them."

Lifting her head, Kagome brushed the hot trace of tears away and sniffed. "But it hurts," she said in a wobbling tone. "Aren't you scared of outliving Rin and everyone else in the village?"

"I am not afraid. She and her husband have shared many years together, and I will watch over their offspring for generations," he paused, considering. "Though I am...uncertain how I shall process the grief once it comes."

"You're still going back, aren't you?" Kagome murmured.

"Indeed, and you are coming with me."

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Grandpa-"

"We will stay for as long as he lives. After that, you should return home, miko."

Kagome threw him a weary smirk. "And if I refuse?"

"Then, I suppose this one is staying in the Modern Era."

Blue eyes flew wide, fingers curling in his clothes and tightening. She rested her cheek against his shoulder again, letting out a long exhale and calming when his chin rested against the crown of her head.

---

Sesshoumaru did not regret his decision. It was to be just three months before Grandpa passed away in the night. He imagined what would've happened to the miko if he'd left her alone; how she stood together with the other humans at the wake and yet apart. It was the most amount of human's he'd witnessed within the shrine at the same time. Detached via some thin veil, Kagome moved around them like vapour. Cordial and polite, yes, but surface level and unattached. Everyone referred to her as Izumi. No one inquired about her grief.

Souta hugged his sister after the funeral ceremony, and she clung to him. After a little while, however, she lifted her head smiled, letting him go check on his five children.

Sesshoumaru drew close to her side, sweeping his gaze down her black kimono. The colour only brought out the pallor of her skin. He did not speak, but she seemed to read his unspoken question.

"It wasn't as hard as Mama's funeral," she murmured, rubbing her eyes. "I think I'd like to get away from all this for a while though. Wanna come for a drive with me?"

He arched an elegant brow. "You know how to?"

"I got my licence when I was still Kagome Higurashi," she stuck out her tongue. "Souta will let me borrow his car. Come on."

After grabbing the keys, they walked through the graveyard where the remains of cremations had been buried. Passing by a Hinako Higurashi whom Sesshoumaru assumed to be the miko's mother, he stopped upon seeing a certain grave.

'Kagome Higurashi'

He stared, unable to identify what he felt looking at the grave.

"Are you coming?" Kagome called from ahead.

Shaking himself, the demon left it alone, but carried those feelings with him even as he walked away.

---

Driving through the city that night, Kagome tightened her hands on the steering wheel. Despite having lived with Grandpa longer than anyone at the funeral, she just couldn't mourn with the family. Instead of talking about it, she glanced at Sesshoumaru and smiled gently.

"I'm ready to hear about them now."

And he told her, detailing how Inuyasha had fallen in love with a woman who passed through the village one day, about four years after the well had closed. She'd been looking for someone to escort her through dangerous territory. She was not miko nor demon Slayer but a competent hunter who seemed to bear a chip on her shoulder. Inuyasha had gravitated to her like a moth to a flame. Upon their return, they'd announced themselves as a couple and married soon after, two sons following.

Kagome listened, expression wistful. The street lights played over her face as they passed by buildings, her eyes a deep blue, mournful yet pleased at the same time. Sesshoumaru went on to talk about Rin's marriage to Kohaku, Shippo's growth and proficiency in magic, Kaede's passing and Miroku and Sango's fourth child.

They sounded happy, and her heart swelled for them.

Pulling the car over to take a detour down a path on the outskirts of the city, she followed the trail up to a hill that overlooked a harbour. Sitting on the hood together and gazing at the stars, her hand found his.

Ageless attention slid to the miko, who kept her doleful gaze on the heavens. "...Life expectancy isn't very high in the feudal era," she murmured quietly.

He knew her unspoken fears. Going back only to lose her mortal friends within a few years of her return no doubt felt daunting.

Long, deadly fingers shifted to close around hers, holding firmly.

"This one will stay with you," he uttered.

Kagome looked at him, hope starting to coax itself alive in her eyes. "R-really?"

"Hn," the demon rumbled, a vow in his voice. "I will be your constant."

Quelling under the seriousness conveyed in his expression, Kagome exhaled. She touched his shoulder, curling her hand there and smiling shyly, daring to believe him. "Even you'll die one day, Killing Perfection."

A velvety, confident chuckle rumbled out of him. "Not for another 2,000 years or so. Perhaps more. Is that sufficient?"

"I guess it'll have to be," Kagome teased, curling into his side and sighing as his large hand splayed over her back. "When you get close to the end..." she said softly, words a whispered, fragile thing. A vow, just as he'd promised for her. "I'll stop there. When you go, I'll go."

Sesshoumaru glanced down at her, tightening his arm and curling a hand into dark, wild hair. The two continued to bask in one another's energies, faint youki and reiki playing across their skin and weaving in a playful, familiar skitter of auras, finally lacing together firmly like clasped fingers.

Months later, Higurashi Shrine would open to the public again, sold by Souta and allowing the structure to be placed under a new family name.

There was no Izumi Higurashi or mysterious 'Nao' walking around the grounds any more. Tree branches swayed, leaves rustling and falling loose to dance around the forgotten well house, which had been boarded up due to disrepair.

The magic within had finally run completely dry; spent on transporting an immortal miko and prideful demon back home.

End

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #skw2020 #sesskag week 2020 #Kagome Higurashi #Sesshoumaru

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

Text

A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself.

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug.

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem.

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship.

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them.

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap.

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately, yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.”

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool.

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look.

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill.

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them.

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out.

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

#hisoillu #hisoka #illumi #bungee gum #hunter x hunter #serious business #serious writing #crack fic?#remember to eat a balanced diet

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