#I suppose this is just the start to another uneventful year in my uneventful life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlightknightess · 4 months

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Heartbroken!Sasha is finally here!

It really came out longer than I expected 💀 and I can only blame my indecisive ass for it 😭 As I mentioned before, this is just the first part of a two-shot fic (initially 3 parts long but sticking to two now), mostly introduction + a small taste I have in store for part 2 👀 Hope you enjoy!

- 2 years! - Her throat hurts with soreness, her eyes stung with sadness, her nose leaking snot until Mikasa handed her a tissue - I spent the last 2 years of my life trying to build a future for him! For us! And this is how he repaid me!? By fucking some whore on my damn bed!? -

It was already bad enough how Niccolo neglected her months before her discovery, the once sweet guy who used to wake her up with breakfast in bed was now a coldhearted douche that only acknowledged her existence when he needed something from her

She should have trusted her gut right when it started to show her all the weird signs, several red flags manifested in the form of late-night homecomings and new passwords for personal social media accounts and phones of his she used to be able to check freely, ignored for the sake of their already crippled relationship, wishing it was all in her mind and that it was just a matter of time before they went back to the normalcy they used to love so much

– I’m so sorry, Sasha - Her soothing hand rubbing on her back alleviates the ache in her heart at least a little. - I… don’t know what to think… I would have never expected him to pull out something like on you -

She can’t blame her for that, she herself doesn’t know what to make out of this fiasco either, she was supposed to come back home early after an uneventful day at work and chill out the rest of the night alongside him. She only found out about this because of mere luck and no more.

It must have been crazy from her point of view, being called by her best friend and only hearing her erratic voice on the other end, begging her to come and pick her up as she shouted and screamed at several unknown individuals

By the time she arrived at her rescue along with his boyfriend Eren in his car, the shit show was already on its grand finale. with a Niccolo barely clothed holding her from running away, begging her to “talk things out” and a red-faced Sasha fighting tooth and nail to get away from him, berating his whole existence as she did so, his mistress hiding in the apartment several floors up from the reception where they were

It took Eren threatening him to beat the shit out of him to let her go for once. hurrying quickly to his car and parting away from a chapter of her life she wished it ended in a more positive note.

- It doesn’t matter - Sasha says, voice watery as she cleans her nose with yet another tissue, tossing it on the carpet of the car, stocking-pilling them on the floor - I couldn’t care less about him, or his stupid whore side chick! - her nostrils flared with anger as she got worked up, her hand holding a fist so tightly she could see her knuckles turning white - In fact, I couldn’t care less about men in general! They ain’t shit! On god! - … - No offense, Eren -

- None taken - He answered, making a left turn as he drove them home - Look, I know a couple of ways to kill somebody and get away with it, so if you-

She lets a small chuckle at his joke, Mikasa playfully chastising him for putting weird ideas in her mind

She lets her head rest on Mikasa, placing herself on the crock of her shoulder and her neck as she lets her keep rubbing soothing circles on her back, her own hand sneaking its way to hers and lacing them together, her breath calming when it meets the sweet scent of Mikasa’s perfume

Still, that doesn’t stop her eyes from breaking loose like a waterfall, her nose once again ugly-snotting and her facade finally crumbling as she feels Mikasa’s hand unknotting her ponytail, a sense of relief cursing through her scalp as she feels her hair free from its hold

- I loved him - She can’t help the tears staining Mikasa’s porcelain white skin, the hold on her hand growing harder and Mikasa holding back just as hard - I saw myself getting married to him in the future, having his kids in the future, and yet-

- Everything is going to be okay - Mikasa is firm in her words and yet soft to the touch, the hand that petted her hair now lifting her by the chin and holding her face up, her thumb erasing the trace of tears tarnishing her cheek and she makes her stare straight in the eyes - You are an amazing girl, Sasha. One with a love to share, and one that deserves even more - Mikasa rests her forehead against hers as she whispers to her heart, making it flutter with every word - Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise -

She can’t help the smile that starts to form in the corner of her lips, her hands quickly trying to erase any hint of tears from her face as she feels renovated with sheer motivation

- You are right - She thanked her truthfully, getting lost in the void of her onyx eyes if only for a little - I’m so sorry you have to bear with me like this… I must have looked pathetic -

- You are not pathetic - Mikasa ensures - Why would you say that? -

- You know why - Sasha responds back - I mean, when compared to you, all this circus must have looked like a child's game to you… Like, here I am, losing my mind over my now ex-boyfriend fucking some skank, meanwhile, you two have an open relationship, and you don’t get bothered about each other seeing different people! Seriously, how!? -

She sometimes can’t believe that up to this day, these two have had this kind of arrangement for a while now, almost as long as her relationship with Niccolo lasted

Especially when in the first years she knew they have been dating, they seemed to have a clear case of jealousy for each other, arguing every other week

Straight out of a rom-com, if she must say.

- This and that are different, Sasha - She hears Eren respond after a short silence, meeting his gaze through the rear mirror, alternating between looking at her and looking at the road as he did so - Just because we are fine with each other having partners of the side, it doesn’t mean we are free to do as we please… Just like in monogamy, we got rules, it just happens that having other partners does not break any rule -

- I know that! - She says with mocking offense, she was well aware of how open relationships worked, she just wanted to make a comparison between her dilemma and their daily occurrence - But now that you mention it, what are your rules anyway? Like, the ones that dictate your other partners - She is genuinely curious about it

- There aren’t too many to be fair - He chuckles a little - Actually, It all boils down to letting the other one know who they are going out with and either approve it or not.. that and not letting ourselves get too emotionally attached with said partners -

It was simple enough, and yet it doesn’t really answer this particular question that has been plaguing her mind, one that just started to form the moment she officially got things done with Niccolo

- Huh? Thats all? - She turns her head in Mikasa’s direction, her face betraying no emotion as she just nods her head - What about… you know, close friends? Like, are they off limits or…? -

A pregnant silence forms the moment she blurted out those words, the air inside the car growing hotter as Sasha regrets little by little her words

- It depends - Erens responds, breaking the awkward quietness - We don’t really make a point of chasing anyone we both know so it doesn’t make things weird between us, but there can be exceptions -

- Oh god - Sasha gets taken aback, her mouth parted as she still processes those words - Does that mean you already did it with someone I know!? -

- Who knows!? - He makes a point of looking at her yet again through the rear mirror - Maybe you do, maybe you don’t! In fact, what makes you believe that it’s just me alone that did it? -

- So it was Mikasa!? -

- Again, who knows!? -

- You gotta tell me! -

- Nu-uh -

- Come on! You can’t just tell me something happened and then not tell me what happened -

- If you want to know so bad go as Mikasa then! -

As if on cue, the moment she turns in Mikasa’s direction she is already looking out into the window as if the dark fields of nothingness were pretty interesting to see

- Mikas-

- No -

- But whyyyyyy? - She is already pouting at this point

- Because you were not supposed to find out… no one, actually - She said as a matter of a fact - But some people can’t keep a secret even if their lives depended on it -

Eren just laughs harder at her stab

- I know how to keep a secret! - She begs - Gimme at least a hint so I can connect the dots! Anything! But please let me knoooow! -

Mikasa let out a sigh as she seems to reconsider her words, still staring out the window as she says - We had a threeway with Armin -

- Oh. My. God! - She screams way too loud, managing to startle Eren of the road for a little before he composes the car - Way to go, girl! - She gets her hand up as if waiting for a hi-five, accomplish it once Mikasa raises her own, a pink shade of blush and a small smile adorning her face as she did so - I didn’t know you were into guys tho, Eren! -

- I am not - He clarifies - I didn’t do anything with Armin, it was all about Mikasa, it was her birthday after all -

- Oww how sweet! - She can’t help but pinch his cheeks - You two are just making me jealous now! -

- Hey stop that! You are gonna get us off the road! -

- Alright alright! But for real though… It amazes me how unbothered you seem to be about all of this…-

- It's just a matter of getting used to it… Besides Armin is my best friend too so it wasn’t that hard to deal with -

- Yeah but still, it’s crazy… Do you really don’t mind people getting frisky with your girlfriend? -

- As long as I agree with it, then it's fine -

- … What about me though? -

- Huh? - Both of them answered, as if they meant to coordinate like that

- Like… - She can’t help herself, her mind racing 200 mph as she once again laces her fingers in Mikasa’s and rests her head above her chest, her mouth tickling her skin as she speaks - If I were to want to make out with Mikasa for being such a good friend and comforting me in my time of need, would you allow it? Would I… have your permission to do it? -

She can barely make sense of her behavior, let alone understand it. It’s not like she is intoxicated with any substance or she is suddenly having a mental breakdown regarding the current events so she has something to blame it on.

But if she had to guess, it would be the need to have something else to occupy her mind, to try to remove today's bad memories and replace them with better ones.

– … That would be hot, not gonna lie - He admits - still, it’s not me you should be asking permission for… yet -

She raises up from her safe hideout in Mikasa’s body, almond locking on black pearl as she takes in the sight of a surprised Mikasa, mouth gaped and the subtle shade of pink growing redder.

– … I … I don't know what to say, Sasha, I -

– A “yes” is good enough for me -

– Sasha! -

– Alright alright! - She holds her hands up in defeat - Look, I'm sorry for blindsiding you like this, not cool on my part I’ll admit… - She is genuinely apologetic, - I… I just need someone to make forget about this mess, if I am being honest with you - She lowers her face down in shame as she confesses her intentions - if you don’t feel like it that would be fine by me, it was worth the shot after all -

Her heart pounds against her ribcage as Mikasa gazes at her with uncertainty, a doubtful expression that flicks between Eren and her every so often, a silent understanding that she is yet to accomplish with a loved one.

Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours, her throat eager to call this off and to forget about it, her eyes locking on her sneakers and her fingers playing with each other until she felt the ever so calming hold of Mikasa’s on them, palm securing her fidgetiness as her sights get devoured by the darkness.

It takes her a couple of seconds to notice the warmness enveloping her whole, her mouth meeting the delicious flavor of mint that makes her dizzy in desire, the sudden weight of her body pilling on her little by little, threatening to make her lose balance until a particularly sharp turn made by the car throws her down, her back on the entirety of the back seat as Mikasa hoovers from above, hands floored against the cushion on either side of her head

- …If that's what you really want - Her breath is labored and erratic, her tongue swiftly licking off the remnants of her and her wrist smudging her black lipstick as she tries to get any trace left, teeth shining pretty bright making her lose any sense of control - Then so be it -

Mikasa proves to be too much to deal with the moment her hands start scouting through her body. Frisky fingers held onto her scorching hot skin as she caressed her ever-so-delightfully, her silk-like touch making her squirm on the cotton of her shirt as the wetness of her tongue took a toll on her neck, fleeting kisses meeting the crook of her shoulder and making her hold to dear life.

It takes her no effort to completely discard her plain pink blouse, her chest’s only layer of protection the lame white sports bra she wore from the gym and couldn’t bother to change out out of the bad timing of the recent events, her eyes locking on her chest with such adoration it makes her pass out on the spot.

- So beautiful… - Mikasa whispers to herself, hand shamelessly sneaking underneath the suffocating cloth around her chest, palm holding her firmly and so tenderly it embarrasses her how it manages to coax a small moan out of her - It just makes more mad to see how wasted you were on that asshole -

She could have never be able to stop her even if she tried, the quick dive in she made on her chest taking her out of guard and her brazen kisses coating her whole: Chest, nipples, underboob and everything in between. Her hold on her head and her cries of her name not enough to deter her from coating her in black lipstick kissmarks

- God - Sasha whispers this time, a switch inside her turned on now that she gets to see the gorgeous mess that Mikasa made out of her, to see the kind of desire and devotion she longed for anyone to have for her, to drown herself in her sweet delusions that somehow became her new reality

She barely notices the vehicle coming to a halt as Mikasa devours her whole yet again, knee expertly placed between her legs where she is getting hot and bothered, hands threatening to make her tight shorts come loose, and hungry kisses robbing the air out of her until she feels like passing out, tongues dancing the more their liplock skillfully lasted until-

- We arrived - Eren says from outside the window, opening the door above their heads, the coolness in the air washing over her as a bucket of water, the both of them caught like a pair of deers in headlights as he takes his sweet time admiring the view he deems it enough, walking to back to the car instead

Mikasa is the first one to get composed, effortlessly getting out of the vehicle, leaving her alone with her thoughts, letting her process what just happened and what she should do next, pondering what could be her best course of action until the harsh sound of the cars vault closing finally snaps her out of it.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the sudden light of the lamps lighting up to their arrival, the both of them exchanging thoughts and not courteous enough to let her join their conversation, barely getting a glimpse of their conversation that she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop at all…

Seriously, she was not!

It isn’t until she sits properly and pays more attention to her surroundings that she notices that she isn’t in her parent's place yet, the parking place of the apartment complex where they were not looking close at all to the one she used to park her father’s car, back when she used to live with him before moving to Niccolo’s place…

- This isn’t my pop's place, though… - She cringes a little as she speaks, because it feels like a pathetic attempt at deflecting, trying to ignore the giant elephant in the room, but still, she gotta get her answers

- I can tell - Eren answers back, a small smile directed at her as Mikasa berates him with a slap on the chest

If it weren’t because he was her best friend’s boyfriend she would kick where it would hurt him the most for mocking her like that…

- I assumed you were gonna stay with us - He says as he throws one of her backpacks over his shoulder, her large suitcase in one of his hands as the other one hands her the small purse she had with her - It didn’t look like you were done back there, to be fair -

…

Ok, at least it was not awkward anymore

But still

He could use a thing or two about subtleness

He hurries himself into Mikasa for a tight half-hug before she can get too mad to him, making her best performance of trying to talk sense into him until he is basically showering her in pecks and half-hearted apologies, pecking him on the mouth with very same lips that coated her whole

It’s only when he manages to tame her into her lovey-dovey soft self that he returns back to her, offering a helping hand out of courtesy, bringing her out of the car so he can lock it

- … You are unbelievable sometimes, Yeager - She allows him to keep her hand in his hold, a reassuring grip that she doesn’t mind at all

- What can I say, I’m really eager to see you two go at it -

It honestly takes her by surprise the way he gets close to her little by little, her body trapped between his and his car, their height gap in it’s full glory the moment she has to raise her head to meet his eyes, his frame getting dangerously close to her and his sturdy frame shadowing her whole, her mind yet again racing 100 miles per hour as she tries to find out what was going on, her face yet again taking a pinkish shade the more he studies her with his gaze, his unbothered expression turning into a mocking smile the more he realizes just how much of a hold he has on her, his hand sneakily guiding hers until-

- Jesus christ! -

She can’t help the small scream and the high-pitched gasp that she lets out when she gets to see the sudden source of warmth and hardness that meets her hand, palm mindlessly feeling up the very noticeable outline of his length that tries to bulge its way out of his pants, his hand holding hers making her aware of the culprit of her current position

- Can you feel it? - She does, she does feel its heavy weight in the palm of her hand and the way it twitches whenever she applies the smallest of pressures on it, and she can’t help but reminisce about that time she was desperate to prove that the reason Eren refused to tell how big he was in that truth or dare game they played a couple of years ago was because he was insecure about his size, and that Mikasa only reason to stick to “it’s big” as her only response was because she was being a supportive girlfriend

- It’s been like this since you teased me when you two had your fun - He makes her feel him up and down shamelessly, her hand hesitating between shying away or following his guidance, holding onto him on a tight grab that she swears it makes his breath hitch, if only a little, - Hell, I was hoping to have a turn if i am honest -

She is speechless, her mouth on a surprised “o” that she shuts as soon as she hears him snickering right in front of her, his confession making her feel a small pinch of guilt

She did this to him, whether she meant it or not, right? So it’s only fair she makes it up to him

Right?

…

It probably didn't work like that

Scratch that, it doesn’t work like that

But then again…

It’s not like she is opposed to the idea.

It would have been easier to go along with it if he wasn’t so weird about it, though

Seriously, she still can’t believe this is the guy Mikasa chose.

For real.

She lets out a sigh of relief as she makes up her mind, eyes locking onto him as she makes a point of keeping her hand right where he placed it, making sure he can feel her sharp nails digging through the fabric of his tight jeans, trying to encircle his whole girth in her palm, even if she failed to do so

She stands up on her tip-toes despite how caged she feels, blood rushing through her veins and a sense of giddy warmness swallowing her whole.

- Give me your worst, Yeager -

It’s ok

Everything it’s going to be ok…

She can’t help but wet the soft pillow as she bites it, teeth chewing so hard on the silk-like cloth it starts to hurt her jaw

Still, there is so much she can do to prevent them from driving her insane, her legs closing on Mikasa’s head not enough to deter him from making out with her lower lips

In fact, it has quite the opposite effect on the both of them, the telltale of Eren’s teeth pinching on her glutes and his hands forcing her knees apart letting her know he wasn’t a big fan of what she tried to pull off

- Do you mind? - He doesn’t bother stopping licking as he speaks, his voice muffled beyond recognition, tongue lapping at her rear mindlessly and yet so delightfully it makes her want to scream, to claw her nails on his skin and tear it open so she can’t escape from this sweet torture.

She can barely tell how long it’s been since she has found herself like this: topless, tossing and turning on their king-sized bed, her chest glued to the mattress, her hips raised in the air and with their leeching asses sucking the life out of her from below, kissing and tonguing her folds and rear alike as if it was their mission of life, slurping the very essence of her the same way a starved man lost in a desert would

And maybe, maybe that’s the reason why she can’t keep up anymore, because her wobbly knees are threatening to give up on her at any moment, her insides burning with a passion only found in the very flames of hell, her body a sweaty mess that already soddened the mattress below her, her lungs barely getting enough air by how hyperventilated she was

- …Mika!… - She cries, hand reaching behind her despite the discomfort of bending her back, barely grabbing the mess of hair in his head, trying to push him away -Please! I am-

Her pleas fall on deaf ears it seems, Mikasa’s response coming in the form of cheeky kisses on her moistness, her delicate thumbs spreading her folds open before she spits on it in such a vulgar way it has her rethinking if this was the same girl that managed to convey a million emotions in just one kiss

- What now? Quitting already? - He grabs her by the very same hand that tried to push him away, forcing it on the small of her back as he literally eats her ass whole, lips kissing her ring carelessly and yet exciting so many moans out of her as he does so

- I can’t anymore! - She can barely make sense of what she tries to say, being double timed like this was new to her, and she honestly believes it is way more than what she bargained for, the toe-curling combination of their mouths wreaking havoc on her bottom making her see starts through her eyelids

- Not good - The spank she receives is uncalled for, an open-palmed hit on her ass that has her screaming at the top of her lungs, her entire bottom half locking taut as if expecting more, the slurping sounds of Mikasa filling the room and making her realize a single spank was enough to make her come - This won’t do -

She can’t bother to make sense of what was going on, her mind barely registering his words and instead focusing on trying to handle the overload of sensations and the overstimulation they forced on her, enduring as much of their abuse as she could before she is crying for mercy, fighting for a battle that she already lost

Because she would be deluding herself if she said that she wasn’t enjoying this, being the sole focus of their attention, worshiped as a divine being that flatters them just by her mere presence

A divine being that has been profaned by their tarnished, blasphemous souls.

- Mmgh! - She muffles against the pillow yet again, an increase in their tempo that almost felt like they were demanding her attention, little moans coming out of her the more their wicked synchronization took a toll on her body, her thighs quivering hard and her mind a foggy mess that she is sure it's going to shutdown at any moment

- Whaa…- She drags her words as she tries to speak, mouth shifting every so often between voicing her content in the loudest cries of want and gasping for air like a madwoman in her deathbed, the sudden introduction of Mikasa’s digits rubbing and pinching her clit throwing her to the very edge, and Eren’s tongue parting her behind sealing the deal for her

For she has already given up, she can’t no more, their wicked duo proving to be too much for her to handle alone, her sight quickly blurring despite her effort to keep her last stand and her thighs shaking uncontrollably for one last time before everything comes loose, the sudden spike on her upper walls destroying the knot on her insides for good, adorning the mattress with yet another dark spot as she can do nothing to prevent herself from coming undone right in front of their eyes, the halt in their ministrations and their exaggerated reactions letting her know she is flooding like a broken faucet

Shadows overcome her vision as the smallest trace of strenght escapes from her body, the sensation of a hundred hands handling her form as a minor inconvenience, a million lips coating her whole, congratulating and cherishing her for making it this far, to please worry not anymore, for they will handle thing now onwards

And that, honestly, it’s what she wanted the most.

#aot smut #aot #eremikasasha #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #sasha braus

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 months

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Something something they're all sad -Danny Words: 2,081 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'In My Place' -by Coldplay

LII: I Might Lay down and See if This Fixes Itself

"You know what pisses me off?"

"Many things nowadays," Leo replies from the crawlspace where he works.

"This project," Ara continues grumpily. "What the hell, dude? We're supposed to be honest with each other!"

"We're supposed to be boyfriend and girlfriend and you still call me dude," the boy responds, crawling out covered in grime and scowling. "What's your point?"

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to rebuild Festus?"

Leo seizes the cloth hanging from his toolbelt and cleans his hands. "Festus was your baby first, I couldn't tell you and then fail—Didn't want to look stupid if it didn't work."

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"Because you think I don't know what I'm doing but I have a good plan here!"

"I don't like this thing you're doing to us."

"Ain't doing nothing, doll..." he walks past her. "It was done to me too, remember?"

Ara follows him downstairs to the cabins. "I don't think this is the best idea you can come up with, that's all. I think you're going easy on purpose."

He steps into his cabin and leaves the door open for Ara. "I thought Ithaca would help, and it didn't. We think wrong sometimes. You should bribe Janus so he tells us what to pick."

"Oh, don't get me started on that guy! He would make things more difficult for us on purpose, he thrives on indecision—all shades of gray and stuff." Ara looks around the room and gets distracted. "Gods, Leo, how do you sleep with all this mess?"

He snorts. "I don't. I just work here."

The girl gets confused. "You've only slept two nights in my cabin this week—where do you spend the night when I say no?"

Leo changes the subject. "I work better around clutter. If I don't figure out a way to make sure Festus won't crush me to death—"

"Have you been sleeping in the engine room?"

The boy raises his voice in frustration. "Listen to what I'm saying!"

Ara looks at the bulletin board: Leo's drawing of the Argo II is accompanied by a picture of the crew who built it and another of Ara hugging Festus's head. She doesn't want to listen, Ara wants to hide under the blankets with him until the war is over and wants to go back to New York, hand in hand with Leo.

Ara longs for the little things, and at the same time, she hates them because they make the things she aims for look frivolous and selfish. When Leo met her, she was obsessed with being useful and giving meaning to her death since she'd already concluded her life would be short and dramatic, yet uneventful when it came to being normal.

Who is she to tell Leo not to aim for the big flashy sacrifice? In short, she's going insane. "I can't listen to this. I'm sorry."

Leo doesn't look surprised, this conversation has happened twice since he returned from Ogygia. Ara isn't ready to face what's coming, and Leo doesn't know what to do to help. The boy sighs, then pinches the bridge of his nose, he looks ten years older. Ara's ashamed of her cowardice, she could talk if they had a clear path ahead, but there is only a pitch-black void.

"I need to know," Leo is extra careful with his words because Ara won't like what he's about to ask her. "If I die for good, are you going to erase me from your stories like you did with Mike?"

Ara's gaze fires up like gasoline, but she says nothing at first. Her feet backtrack, like they always do when an argument hits too close, and then she freezes. Ara counts to five, if she doesn't take a second to think, she'll say bad things like she always does.

Once her heartbeat is regulated she forces out a response. "I can't escape you like I escaped Michael. Helen left Troy but the guilt never left her. My soul has never known peace when it comes to you."

She thinks of her innocent memories with Leo, holding each other close until they couldn't keep their eyes open. She can't stand how much it hurts even while he's still with her, and it scares her to think it'll only get worse once he goes away.

"I've always been on the run, you know that," Leo sounds so serious it makes her skin crawl. "You're also the only person on this ship with whom I can act how I feel, and I need you to let us be ugly for once, or what we have is gonna rot no matter what we choose."

Ara runs her hands over her face. "I don't want this curse to be the thing that gives our relationship meaning—It will ruin it."

"We were never a perfect couple," he walks past her to exit the cabin. "But only you see that as a bad thing."

Ara gets to the Mess Hall and opens her mouth to speak, but a voice screams before she can even utter one word. "PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!"

"Jesus fuck!" The General jumps out of her skin.

"I thought you were getting rid of that stupid hologram." Piper glares at Leo.

"Hey, Buford's just saying good morning," he grins, stuffing his mouth with a brownie. "He loves his hologram! Besides, we all miss the coach. And Frank makes a cute bulldog."

Their friend turns back into a human and scowls. "Just sit down, Leo. We've got stuff to talk about. Ara, ready when you are..."

The girl sits at the head of the table, placing both hands on its surface to gather her thoughts. Leo sits between Jason and Hazel and grabs a bag of fonzies, a healthy breakfast to begin the day.

"How are you feeling, Jason?" Ara asks, trying to ignore how Leo didn't switch seats with Frank to be closer to her.

"I'm still breathing," Jason answers shortly. "So... we're going to stay airborne and drop anchor as close as we can to Olympia. It's further inland than I'd like—about five miles—but we don't have much choice. According to Juno, we have to find the goddess of victory and, um... subdue her."

"Defeat Victory," Ara already hates the idea. "And subdue her?"

"I'm cool with fighting the occasional goddess," Percy shrugs casually, "but isn't Nike one of the good ones? I mean, personally, I like victory. I can't get enough of it."

"It does seem strange," Annabeth agrees, anxiously tapping the table. "I understand why Nike would be in Olympia—home of the Olympics and all that. The contestants sacrificed to her. Greeks and Romans worshipped her there for, like, twelve hundred years, right?"

"Almost to the end of the Roman Empire," Frank nods. "Romans called her Victoria, but same difference. Everybody loved her. Who doesn't like to win? Not sure why we would have to subdue her."

"She's probably going insane over which side should be winning," Ara reasons. "The children of Nike are all competitive and they don't stop at nothing. I'm sure she's ten times worse."

"How do we defeat victory?" Piper asks worryingly. "Sounds like one of those impossible riddles."

"Like making stones fly," Leo retorts, "or eating only one Fonzie."

Ara and Hazel look at him with vastly different expressions. Hazel scoots away. "That stuff is going to kill you."

"You kidding? So many preservatives in these things, I'll live forever."

"That'd be convenient," Ara mumbles, stabbing an apple with Lily's dagger.

No one knows how to reply to that, except Leo. "You think Nike can give us pointers on how to defeat death? 'Cause that'd be promising."

Ara wants to dismiss his comment knowing he's just taunting her, but it makes sense. "That's... not a crazy idea. Desperate times..."

Frank raises a brow. "You think Nike would be willing to fight death?"

Annabeth makes a face. "Her kids never turn down a challenge. They have to be number one at everything—I wouldn't be surprised if she agreed."

"She sounds like Birdy," Percy smirks. "Are we sure you're an Aphrodite?"

Ara cuts a slice of apple with the knife and sends an unamused glance at her brother. Hazel continues. "But we've got to get the Greeks and Romans on the same team, right?"

"Maybe she's the problem," Jason suggests. "If the goddess of victory is running rampant, torn between Greek and Roman, she might make it impossible to bring the two camps together."

"How?" Leo asks. "Start a flame war on Twitter?"

"Maybe she's like Ares," Percy explains. "That guy can spark a fight just by walking into a crowded room. If Nike radiates competitive vibes or something, she could aggravate the whole Greek–Roman rivalry big-time."

Frank points at Ara and Percy with his spoon. "You remember that old sea god in Atlanta—Phorcys? He said that Gaia's plans always have lots of layers. This could be part of the giants' strategy—keep the two camps divided; keep the gods divided. If that's the case, we can't let Nike play us against each other. We should send a landing party of four—two Greeks, two Romans—"

"Ara shouldn't go," Jason says promptly.

The girl cuts another slice of the apple and frowns. "Elaborate?"

"I think—and I say this respectfully—that your fatal flaw would get everyone killed if you were to face Nike."

"Ambition and victory don't mix," Percy nods in agreement. "You should sit this one out."

Ara leans back, popping the slice into her mouth. "First of all, I never said I should go. Second, I never said I wanted to go. We should be careful to send a group that doesn't clash, so if I were you, I wouldn't send those two either," she points at Annabeth and Percy.

"Hey!"

"No, she's right," Annabeth sighs. "Athena and Poseidon have a rivalry, we don't know if Nike can use that on us, Percy. We don't want to do anything that might make the goddess, um, more unstable."

"I'll go," Piper offers. "I can try charmspeaking."

"Not this time, Piper," Annabeth shakes her head gravely. "Nike is all about competition. Aphrodite... well, she is too, in her own way. That's why Ara is so alike."

"I love being present for these conversations," Ara says sarcastically, driving another slice into her mouth.

"Who should go, then?" Piper insists.

"Jason and Percy shouldn't go together," Annabeth continues. "Jupiter and Poseidon—bad combination. Nike could start you two fighting easily."

Percy gave her a sideways smile. "Yeah, we can't have another incident like in Kansas. I might kill my bro Jason."

"Or I might kill my bro Percy," Jason replies.

"Which proves my point," Annabeth sends an annoyed glance their way. "We also shouldn't send Frank and me together. Mars and Athena—that would be just as bad."

"Okay," Leo sighs. "So Percy and me for the Greeks. Frank and Hazel for the Romans. Is that the ultimate non-competitive dream team or what?"

"It could work," Frank looks at Ara for approval. "I mean, no combination is going to be perfect, but Poseidon, Hephaestus, Pluto, Mars... I don't see any huge antagonism there."

Annabeth is waiting for her response too. Ara shrugs. "Well, if it were Hephaestus and Ares maybe there'd be a problem, but let's hope Roman and Greek don't click like that."

"I still wish we could've gone through the Gulf of Corinth," Hazel sighs. "I was hoping we could visit Delphi, maybe get some advice. Plus it's such a long way around the Peloponnese."

"Yeah." Leo's shoulders fall. "It's July twenty-second already. Counting today, only ten days until—"

"I know," Jason says defensively. "But Juno was clear. The shorter way would have been suicide."

Leo opens his mouth probably to joke about how he's doing that either way but his eyes find Ara's and his statement dies before it can even reach his vocal cords.

"No one is blaming you, Jason," Ara stares at her partially eaten apple. "Delphi wouldn't've been of any help. Something's going on, I think Apollo messed up one too many times."

"Juno said the twins might be willing to help us," Jason reminds her. "Perhaps that's what she meant. We help Apollo and he'll help us in return."

"A lot of unanswered questions," Frank mumbles. "A lot of miles to cover before we get to Athens."

"First things first," Annabeth's posture changes to one more energetic. "You guys have to find Nike and figure out how to subdue her... whatever Juno meant by that. I still don't understand how you defeat a goddess who controls victory. Seems impossible."

Ara and Leo lock eyes immediately. The masters of unlikely smile at each other, and Ara's expression is enough to lift Leo's spirits in a way no amount of good fortune could.

"We'll see about that." The boy winks at her before leaving the Mess Hall. "Let me get my collection of grenades and I'll meet you guys on deck!"

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

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u5an5 · 2 months

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Jacobs' Journal: Tape #8 - The French Connection

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

[START LOG]

Jacobs: Personal log, and I suppose... Happy New Year’s.

Jacobs: Been a long and uneventful month or so since my last recording, but seeing as most staff the choice of either Hawaii or Barbados, while my only choice was between milk or soy in my coffee, you get the idea.

Jacobs: It makes it difficult to enact much of a plan when half the people you need aren't around. But, as the holidays drew to a close, I could finally see what opportunities arose as the Foundation slowly began to populate once more.

Jacobs: Lambert would take the longest to return to his station as Site Director. Go figure. Colonel Hillard as well took a few more days in the comfort of seclusion, leaving Major Chen the leading authority in charge. As it just so happened, this meant I could reel in one of my bigger fish, one I failed to mention earlier.

[Rest bellow the cut]

Jacobs: My plan requires a great deal of misdirection in order to succeed. I sadly cannot be the one to pull the trigger that ends Lambert's... career. That duty falls to another. I let slip to Chen that I would need some time to stroll around the Euclid containment area, and he obliged by informing me of patrol rosters the following day. I also had Engineer Rowe working maintenance on the day in question, fixing up the particular cell I intended visiting. This... is the result of my adventure.

[click]

(footsteps)

Jacobs: Hello?

SCP-049: Another one? (two muffeled thuds) So soon? And alive, as well. This is a welcome surprise.

Jacobs: I'm not here for the slaughter, and before you try, know that my death will hold all your practices indefinitely.

SCP-049: Forgive me, how rude of me to assume. You don't even appear to be dressed in the garb of my... usual subjects.

Jacobs: I am no subject.

SCP-049: No, sir, but your ilk considers me as such.

Jacobs: If it were up to me, that would not be the case. If the Pestilence is a real threat to life as we know it, then I would not hamper your research into curing it.

SCP-049: But you, sir, are not in fit position.

Jacobs: No... and please, drop the sir. I am Administrative Oversight Jacobs. While I may not be able to change your current predicament, you are aware of who holds that power?

SCP-049: I believe that would be your Site Director.

Jacobs: Y-...yes. How did you-

SCP-049: The scent of the Pestilence cannot hide. It lives within all to varying degree. Yours is minuscule. But his... I can sense him through the walls, the glass. His body is an outline of light amongst the darkness. Though he is not here, I can still feel him, and soon he shall return. No doubt to interfere with my research even further

Jacobs: I wouldn't be surprised. But events are ever-changing, and paths sometimes cross the allow for great change to be possible. All that is required is a little help.

SCP-049: I'm listening.

Jacobs: The Site Director is a hamper are not just yourself, but me as well. In order to ensure my ascension in power I will be required to remain impartial in events... by perception. If you were to remove the picture, that would not only give me a power vacuum to fill, but would be of a great benefit to you.

SCP-049: And the body... is mine.

Jacobs: Naturally. So, what do you think?

SCP-049: I could kill you now. (footsteps) *049 gets louder* I do not truly believe anyone would notice.

Jacobs: *breath quickens, voice gets bit more quiet* And give up the opportunity just study such a specimen as him?

SCP-049: Nous avons un accord. (We have an agreement)

Jacobs: Merci. (Thank you)

[click]

Jacobs: To be frank, I was not expecting 049 to even be willing to negotiate like that. He hasn't appeared very... picky as to whom he operates on, but it seems Lambert has ultimately touched a rather sensitive nerve with the good doctor. Instructions have been passed on to Engineer Rowe to allow us to covertly control the door to 049's cell,... should the need arise.

Jacobs: Major Chen is also working on getting in contact with Technician Miles to complete our official team of misfits. I'll have to abbreviate our names from now on, I think, in case any unwanted guests have to find these tapes. My concern was peaked today when I found a note outside my cozy hideaway.

Jacobs: Luckily, I saw it was from McCrimmon, in relation to getting in contact with me. He's been scheduled to perimeter duty next Tuesday, and if I turn my shifts right, I can sneak out meet up with him on the surface. Suppose I'll see you next Tuesday, Mr. McCrimmon. <whispering, under breath> Ugh, Jesus Christ.

Jacobs: Administrative Oversight Jacobs, signing back in.

[END LOG]

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

#jacobs journal #pcrime posting #o5 jacobs #scp sedition #scp #that explains alot #and gives some context #you dont know what things?#then you should stop reading those tags now #cause spoilers #once agin #so go away #scp 049

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vxnillite · 2 years

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Khro'a birthday drabble!!!

THIS IS FOR @99-kroi !!! The man who sent me down this path of insanity, and I will be eternally grateful for that.

HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY DUDE!!! Just want to say that you're an amazing person, a fantastic artist, and a really fun person to talk to! Really, really glad to have met you and to be able to share all this fun sh*t with you! (I'm a writer, why is my vocab so limited)

Also this is not a ship fic, 100% platonic bc Noah and Khro'a are besties 4 life <33 yippee hAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN KROIIIII

(if there are typos, i'll get back to it. i haven't [edit: HELP ME WHY DID THE REST OF THE SENTENCE DELETE ITSELF I MEANT TO SAY I HAVEN'T PROOFREAD THIS LKSDJFKLSJF])

Sunlight filtered through the wooden planks of the treehouse, shining tiny spotlights on an unusually empty bed.

The owner was in the middle of the room, crouched on the floor. Khro'a whistled as he fixed his travel packs. Today was going to be uneventful, but he'd decided to go flying—didn't know where to, exactly. Khro'a would decide on the way.

He'd just tied up the last pack when he heard an ikran cry. Weird—that wasn't his, though. It cried again, sounding much closer to the treehouse this time. Khro'a had a second to recognize that particular call when—

"INCOMING!!"

Something crashed straight into Khro'a. It knocked out almost all the air inside of him, and, had he not been bigger than the intruder, they would've crushed him.

"Ay, puta—you were fucking right under it! Sorry!"

Khro'a felt himself get yanked up onto his feet, then into a tight embrace. From over the person's head, he processed first the rapidly swishing tail, then the triple braids—one black, two an unnatural purple.

Noah was jumping on their toes as they exclaimed, "Happy birthday, Khro'a!!"

Excitement rose like magma in his chest at the realization. Khro'a grinned and hugged them back. "Noah! I thought you wouldn't be back until a few more weeks?"

Noah pulled away to look up at Khro'a, and their arms went from his waist to his hands. "And fucking miss your birthday," they scoffed playfully, "You think I'm gonna be stupid like that? Of course, I was gonna come home early!"

Finally, confusion arose as well, and Khro'a asked, "How is it my birthday—wait, how are you keeping track of this?"

Fangs bared, Noah giggled through their teeth. "Well, it's been exactly one Pandoran year since you got transferred to your Avatar by Eywa. I did the math some time ago, and turns out your terran birthday happens to fall on the same day this year," they explained, "So, technically, two birthdays!"

It took a few seconds for Khro'a to process, and he chuckled as he did.

Noah cocked their head to the side. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just," he stifled a laugh, "You really counted all that?"

"What, like it's supposed to be hard?"

Khro'a couldn't hold it in anymore, the affectionate laugh he was caging in his chest. "Spoken like a true nerd."

Noah slapped him on the chest. Their lips scrunched into a pout. "Gago, it's simple fucking math!" Then, infected by Khro'a, they started laughing, too. "Of course, I've been counting. It's your birthday, after all. I keep track of everyone else's, too."

Khro'a let his laughter dwindle down first. "So, it's been a year, huh," he mused. Then, he looked back down at Noah. Their bright eyes looked up at him curiously, waiting on his words. He sighed contentedly, "Thank you, Noah."

Noah's lips curled into a softer, still toothy smile. A little chuckle wisped through them as they pulled Khro'a in for another hug. It said everything that couldn't be put into words.

The moment passed in comfortable silence until Noah spoke up. "Oh, also, I stopped by the village, and I told the entire village and the other RDA people. They're all waiting for you at High Camp."

Khro'a sighed, placing a hand on their head. "Of course you did."

"But you seem to have plans." Noah peeked behind him from under his arm. "Going somewhere?"

"Meh, I wasn't really planning on it," Khro'a shrugged, "I was just bored, so it's a 'wherever the wind takes me' kind of plan."

The reaction to that was somewhat violent, as Noah pulled away only to grip Khro'a's arms, eyes glinting with excitement. Their tail was whipping like a tornado behind them. Teeth that bit down on their lower lip caged their words flimsily. Khro'a had a feeling he knew what those were.

"Go on. What is it?"

"Can I come with you," Noah asked giddily, like a child, "It's been months since we went somewhere together!"

"I don't know~ Didn't you say there are people waiting at High Camp?"

"Yes, and we can go after that! C'mon, don't fuck with me, Khro'a."

Some things just never change, he thought. Then, Khro'a smiled. "Alright, but I really had no plans of where to go. Do you?"

"'Wherever the wind takes us' sounds like a good plan. Now, come on! I'll help you with your things."

Khro'a perked up as if a switch had been flipped in his head. "Wait, Noah, you've been travelling all night—have you had any sleep?"

"Shhh! That's not your problem to deal with, okay?"

"That's not my po—Noah!!"

Too late. They grabbed two of the biggest bags in their hand, jumped up onto a large branch—an exposed structural beam of sorts for the treehouse—then flung themselves through the roof chute. They looked down at Khro'a, jerking their head as if to hurry him up. Fortunately, he'd already followed suit.

Khro'a emerged through the chute mere seconds after Noah did, throwing the other two bags onto the roof as he pushed himself up. With his tail, he flipped the chute door shut. Khro'a put his arm out just in time as he saw a familiar stingbat coming to land on him.

"Hey, Kev!" Khro'a chuckled as the stingbat pecked him affectionately. It shrieked as he scritched its neck. He dug a fruit from one of his bags and gave it to Kev. It cawed gratefully as it flew back to hover over its owner.

Then, the two avatars mounted their ikrans, but before they took off—

"Oh, and Khro'a?"

He turned to them innocently. What he saw was a figure cast in the morning light and a delicate smile. Noah's gaze softened as their eyes met.

"Happy birthday ulit." Their eyes smiled, too, pushing a few tears through the corners. "Thanks for everything. I'll never forget any of it."

#NATIONAL KROI DAY #birthday fic #oc fic #avatar oc #platonic #khro'a is bestest boy and we must protect

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best-underrated-anime · 8 months

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Best Underrated Anime Group D Round 3: #D5 vs #D6

#D5: Three brothers work together to stop an ancient evil

#D6: Most adorable-dork villainess in dating game isekai

Details and poll under the cut!

*D6’s tagline has been changed.

#D5: Laughing Under the Clouds (Donten ni Warau)

youtube

Summary:

In the 11th year of the Meiji Era, the end of the samurai shogunate and the prohibition of swords has left Japan with lasting scars. Displeased by these recent changes, many former samurai plot against the new government, inciting a wave of bloodshed. To counter this movement, the government constructs a colossal prison in the middle of Lake Biwa.

Unofficially assigned to help the police arrest criminals, Tenka Kumou also serves as a ferryman to the Lake Biwa prison with the help of his two younger siblings: the ambitious Soramaru and the enthusiastic Chuutarou. Together with the former Fuma ninja Shirasu Kinjou, the Kumou brothers live a frugal and joyful life mostly dedicated to studying and training.

However, behind this relatively uneventful daily routine, the specter of the “Orochi” curse is starting to spread its shadow over the city of Oumi. According to legend, every three hundred years, Orochi reincarnates in a human vessel—and it is believed that this is the harbinger of an imminent catastrophe. As various groups clash in search of Orochi’s vessel, some aim to seal the curse, while others have darker plans in motion.

Propaganda:

I found this series absolutely entrancing when I originally watched it, the portrayal of the characters and themes is really interesting to watch.

It tells a fantastic story about trying to defeat a legendary evil that can corrupt those around it to do its biding, all the while mixing in comedy and really heartfelt moments between family. For a 12 episode series they did a really good job of tying up any loose ends and finishing the plot, some things could have been expanded upon a bit more, but for what it is they producers did a wonderful job.

The series might not be the most groundbreaking anime ever, but it does have some lovely moments and explorations of its characters. I really like the themes of family, and wanting to do anything you can to help the people you love, it’s always nice to see and I think it’s done really well in this anime.

Trigger Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Suicide.

#D6: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! (Otome Game no Hametsu Flag shika Nai Akuyaku Reijou ni Tensei shiteshimatta…)

youtube

Summary:

Most people would prefer being the protagonist of a world full of adventure, be it in a game or in another world. But, unfortunately, a certain girl is not so lucky. Regaining the memories of her past life, she realizes that she was reborn in the world of Fortune Lover—one of the games she used to play.

Unfortunately, the character she was reincarnated into—Catarina Claes—is the game's main antagonist, who faces utter doom in every ending. Using her extensive knowledge of the game, she takes it upon herself to escape from the chains of this accursed destiny.

However, this will not be an easy feat, especially since she needs to be cautious as to not set off death flags that may speed up the impending doom she is trying to avoid. Even so, to make a change that will affect the lives of everyone around her, she strives—not as the heroine—but as the villainess.

Propaganda:

This show is so much fun. The protagonist is a lovable girl himbo, who is completely oblivious to everyone around falling in love with her. It’s a bit of a harem anime, but with equal opportunities: the girls are just as enamored with the main character as the guys are. The increasingly dumber ways in which she thinks she’s going to meet her doom (she is supposed to be the villain of the story, after all) are a delight to behold.

Trigger Warnings: Incest, Rape/Non-Con. The main character gets assaulted like two or three times, but it’s not graphic. One of these instances, where a kiss is forced on her, is by her adoptive brother, who is also her cousin, who is one of her main love interests.

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.

#anime #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #group stage #group stage round 3 #tournament polls #group d #laughing under the clouds #donten ni warau #my next life as a villainess: all routes lead to doom #my next life as a villianess all routes lead to doom #my next life as a villainess #otome game no hametsu flag #otome game no hametsu flag shika nai akuyaku reijou ni tensei shiteshimatta

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pwblogarchive · 2 months

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November 2001

November 23, 2001

“this is rocknroll”

so this is the start.

it’s late.

this should turn out to be a documentation of the life of arma angelus. i’ll update it from the road and what not. or maybe it will be just a big waste of time- we’ll see.

i feel like i should do a first post type thing. unfortunately i can’t think of anything so bright or witty.

i’m going to midnight movies right now- i will do a real post later on…

welcome to five ruined lives.

love- pete

November 24, 2001

“the beginning”

so the midnight movie did not happen. my friends dropped me off to spend a night hidden behind the monitor.

i feel like this is a good time to explain some of my thoughts on these journals. i sometimes feel like they fit into the whole “reality craze”- everyone wanting fame for nothing. the degradation of our lives. we want to see what is behind someone else’s door. we want to buy the dream that anyone can “live the life”. to me this is a waste-

“you thought you knew but you have no idea”- ultimately this is not how i hope this appears. there are certain constraints rythmically and melodically to the expression of ideas in music. hopefully this journal can serve to fill in the blanks. that is the point of this.

well. thanksgiving was pretty uneventful. i was supposed to go out to syracuse and spend it with my friends. that didn’t happen. i am pretty depressed about it. chalk up another missed opportunity- “regret will always get you in the end”. our record won’t be out until december due to an error in the printing. but we’ll have some at our record release show. i’m pretty stoked, we’re practicing for it this weekend. we’ll be out on the east coast with throwdown/bleeding through around new years this year. it should be fun, we’ve been friends since racetraitor. we’ll be playing some new jams so look out. i hope to get some new lyrics up here soon.until then go check out the rumors at www.superherohq.com and buy an eXc dvd…

it couldn’t have been written better: you love to hate us, we love to hate you…

petey

November 26, 2001

“grand failure anthems”

what a weekend. i made it out to the local showcase and was quite impressed. it was great to see the guys from 7angels again after touring with them. watching jared play drums is insane. i guess adam did an interview for the canadian metal magazine Unrestrained which is pretty cool since they sell it at borders and stuff so keep an eye out for it. i think i might have passed out 300 samplers this weekend and we still have a ton more, the box is like neverending. tommorrow i’m going to post the lyrics to three new songs. they are of a bit of a different nature- they are kind of a progressive narrative. it just tells the story of this relationship i have been stuck in and out of- far more personal than the full length so i hope everybody doesn’t hate them or whatever. Also in Arma Angelus Army news, we’re goingto doa massive mailing of stuff next week so watch yur mailbox. we hae a new shirt design in, fresh gear for all the girls and boys. we also bought armaangelus.com- so that should be up shortly. today i’m listening to “Thriller” and wondering when they are going to make regular coke with the lemon in it. i’m waiting… Pete

November 27, 2001

“We are the story of love gone wrong…”

here’s the new lyrics… i feel like i should explain them but then again does anyone care? record release here on dec. 1st- today my friend told me some stuff am getting for christmas. yep- good stuff.

THE ARCHITECT,THE ARSONIST

With a focus and a resolve that will not slip I fall tonight. I feel content for the first time- with a look you melt me. with a word I vow to not lie forever in such dissemblance. to not lie forever in my own arms. my flesh has never felt so ill- as though one thousand insects swarm it- longing for your embrace for your gaze to steal me away from the shadows and burdens of this world. rest my troubled head in your hands. I only hope this moment is not passing. My heart That has never felt so full- nor ever thought it would has fallen from security- Has fallen so surely. Can I rest on the promise of your name on my lips. Your wings guard my sleep. As though I was never alone at all. As though my heart beats only for you. If I could steal the way you look at me I would lie in that feeling forever

and fall for you.

DEATH TO THE LAST ROMANTIC

As I lie here in the company of none but desperation. I?m dying for you to press your lips against mine and adorn them with romance. Adorn them with disaster and hopelessness upon hopelessness. Please just lay here beside me forever. I?ll sing you this song just one more time. For the brokenhearted. For the loveless. Yet I only wish that such words would compel belief and mandate love from you. I only wish for wings that were not broken. I swear to god I?ll save a smile for you in hell. I swear to god that the words ?I love you? are my last breath. When I?m gone close your eyes and imagine me the person I always wished I was. I watched it all end when she said ?pretty girls make graves?. One more time- I?ll sing this song just one more time for the broken hearted- for the loveless. For you.

SWITCHBLADE LOVE AFFAIR

Another town, another night away- and I swear to god I?ll lay it all to waste. I?m just another broken heart on your stereo. So turn the volume high because the world?s not waiting for five ruined lives. Lonely quarters for broken phones to tell her how she broke me like a twenty on a pack of smokes. we?re talking to ourselves- our wasted and empty arms dying to hold anyone. Dying to not be alone. send a rusted postcard back home, just so someone cares I?m gone. Dear, can you smell the contempt on my breath? Accomplice of my stolen breath- accomplice of a ruined man. I?ll die hidden behind a pen. because ?regret will always get you in the end?-we are the story of love gone wrong.

November 29, 2001

damn. American Nightmare is so good. i only wish that wes could get more than like three words into the mic a show- it only heightens the fact that he uses multiple tracks to fit them in on the record. so that part is pretty wack. but damn- that guy is a maniac and the lyrics are soooo good.

I passed out like 400 samplers last night at the show. so hopefully all those kids will comeand rock out on saturday. i have a super big weekend coming up-friday Fallout Boy is playing at western. then saturday is our record release here and sunday i cleavland with pretty much the same bands. word.

i’ve gotten a couple of emails about this journal and all and i just wanted to tell everybody to feel free to interact on here- it’s for everybody. you can even be anonymous if you like.

i’m out to go and look for a job i guess. my dad woke me up at seven to tell me this, i was like SIKE!

alright…

-p

#fall out boy #pete wentz #livejournal #pete wentz livejournal #journal

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mslizsteele-stories · 5 months

Text

Rosé

☾︎✯☽︎

The club was already packed by the time my shift started. I could feel the presence of the loud music and bass pass through me like a ghost taking possession of its host. The neon lights were moving, flashing and zipping around and across the place in a frenzy. People were dancing, grinding against each other and making out while others already crowded the bar waiting for their drinks and to be attended to.

Show time.

"Hi, welcome to The Coup d'Etat. What can I do for you?" I smiled at the group of ladies waiting at the bar.

"Hi, can you open up a bar tab for us?" one of them, a brunette, asked, nodding towards her friends, who were drooling at the sight of me - nothing new.

"Sure. Will you be paying in cash or card?"

"Cash, we're splitting the bill."

"Okay, what would you like for your tab?"

"Soju will be fine. Thanks."

I took out a tray and some glasses before striding over to the fridge to collect the soju. After filling the bucket with ice, and placing the bottles of soju inside, I placed the bucket into the tray and pushed it toward the customers. "Here you go. Let me know when you want to close your tab."

"Sure thing."

They left for their booth, but not before one of them winked at me.

As I was about to move on to the next batch of customers, I bumped into a blonde woman who, from the looks of it, was in a rush to get to wherever she wanted to go.

"I'm so sorry." She apologized with a bow until she had a good look at me. "Hey, you must be the new guy GD told me about. The guy I'm supposed to monitor during my shift."

I quirked an eyebrow, "Sounds like your boss doesn't trust me."

She waved her hand, "He does that to every new employee. Heck! He did that to me when I first started working here. I'm Chaeyoung, by the way." She stuck out her hand towards me.

I shook her hand. "Ollie."

"Well, Ollie. Normally, I would train you on what to do and how to handle the POS system, but it seems like you know your way around it. So, I'll serve the tables while you handle things here at the bar. Sound good?"

"Sure thing."

The rest of the evening was pretty much uneventful aside from tending to the customers. Chaeyoung was anywhere and everywhere, taking orders, clearing the tables, and checking on the customers while also helping me at the bar when need be. I was pretty much accustomed to the nightlife in the club; watching people dance and have the time of their life, the music, the lights (and thank God the ventilation in the club was good).

"You okay there?" I asked the blonde who was leaning against the bar and groaned.

"I'm just glad that I can rest for a bit." She said. "Why do the weekends always be so damn busy?"

"Well, a lot of people like to spend their weekends going to clubs and bars, especially college and university kids," I said. "Besides, more people. More tips."

She groaned again. "And the fact that I'm a broke uni kid is not doing me any favours."

"Well, I wouldn't know since I'm not a uni kid."

She looked at me confused. "Did you drop out?"

"Nope. I never went to college or university after I graduated high school. Went straight to the military and left two years later."

"How old are you?"

"Thirty."

"Holy shit!" her eyebrows flew up. "You're old."

"Hey, I'm not that old." I frowned. "Gosh. What is up with you kids and thinking thirty is old."

"That's literally the age to already be married and have kids."

"Yet your generation is already getting married and having kids at eighteen."

She opened her mouth to retort, but no sound or syllable left her mouth. I chuckled at her reaction, knowing that she knew I was right.

"Anyway!" she changed the subject. "Where are you from? You don't sound like you're here. Not to forget, you look way too exotic to be Korean."

"I'm Chinese, but I grew up in Australia."

"Oh, my God! You're an Aussie!" she squealed, switching to English with a strong Aussie accent.

I chuckled. "Yes, I'm an Aussie."

"Chris and Felix are going to be so hyped when I tell him we have another Aussie on the team."

"How many are there."

"It's just the three of us. Other foreigners work here, but either way, it's good to meet another foreigner. Us foreigner folks gotta stick together, am I right?"

I hummed, conceding with her statement.

Suddenly the music stopped, and the lights turned. My eyes found the stage where the DJ booth was. I saw smoke lurking around the stage and blending with the deep blue neon lights until a song with a fusion of moombahton and Latin trap music started playing. Eight feminine figures emerged and walked up to the stage and stood in line, four standing across from each other as though they made a path for someone.

The spotlight shined on the ninth dancer, a dark-haired woman whose hair was just above her shoulders and her bangs covering her forehead. She wore a white crop top with crystal tinsels along with a pair of denim shorts with a glitter belt around her waist and a pair of white glitter knee-high combat boots.

My eyes were focused on her as she walked up to the centre of the stage, and her dancers broke their formation. The way her body movement was in synch with the rhythm of the song. The expressions she made while she danced. Everyone's attention was on her and her alone.

"That's Lisa." Chaeyoung's voice broke me out of whatever spelt that woman had put me under.

I looked at her.

"The girl you're staring at." She clarified. "Her name is Lisa. She's one of the dancers here, and people pay a lot of money to see her perform, let alone give them a private performance in one of our VIP lounges. She's pretty good, ain't she?"

I turned my gaze back to the dancer. "I'm no dance guru since I can't dance to save my life, but she's pretty good, I guess."

"Oof! Don't say that in her presence, though. She will make sure you'll change that statement from pretty good to pretty amazing." She playfully bumped her shoulder against mine. "But she's pretty chill when she's off stage. A little mischievous but pretty chill."

I hummed, making no comment. Not that I needed to anyway. I did consider Chaeyoung's comment about this girl, but I decided to push it aside and not dwell much on it. It wasn't like I was going to see her outside of work, let alone talk to her. It was probably better that way.

"Well, break time is over." Chaeyoung stretched. "Those tables aren't going to serve themselves."

"Good luck," I said as she left the bar.

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moonchild-things · 1 year

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Chapter Eleven: Rain Check

Summary: Delphia Odinsdottir is the Goddess of Virtue. While stopping petty fights between her brothers, sparing with her friends, and practicing with her mother, Delphia has visions of the future. However, her once boring, uneventful life as Princess is disrupted by one of the most disturbing visions she had ever seen. Which leads her to run into a patriotic captain in red, white and blue.

Word Count: 3835

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Yay! An update! I actually got this chapter done and the next few within a short amount of time, which means more Delphia content ^-^ This poor poor woman, we all know what's coming, I almost felt bad having to write it. But it's gotta happen :( anyway, I hope ya'll like it!

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EVERYONE GATHERED AROUND THE MAIN TABLE IN the underground bunkers. Plans had to be made about what to do going forward. Now that they had captured Zola, a larger move could be made against HYDRA. Add in the fact that Schmidt would probably also make a big move now that his lead scientist had been taken.

“Johann Schmidt belongs in a bug house.” Colonel Phillips said, “He thinks he’s a God. He’s willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the USA.”

“Schmidt’s working with powers beyond our capabilities.” Howard informed, “He gets across the Atlantic, he will wipe out the entire eastern seaboard in an hour.”

Everyone swallowed thickly at the reminder of that. The tense atmosphere was near suffocating everyone in the room. The Howling Commandos, Peggy, Delphia, Howard, and a few other high ranking officers were sitting at the table. Other officers watched the brief from behind them, holding their breath at every piece of information that was being talked over.

“How much time we got?” Gabe Jones, a member of the Howling Commandos asked.

“According to my new best friend, under twenty four hours.” Colonel Phillips grunted.

Another member of the Commandos, Jaques Dernier then asked, “Where is he now?”

Phillips held up a photo, “Hydra’s last base is here. In the Alps. Five hundred feet below the surface.”

“So, what are we supposed to do?” Jim Morta, a third member of the howling commandos, asked, “I mean, it’s not like we can just knock on the front door.”

“Why not?” Steve asked, bringing the attention to him. From the way that his jaw was clenched and a determined expression was on his face, everyone could tell that he was ready to do anything to defeat Schmidt. With his hardened stare he said, ”That’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

From his expression and tough tone in his voice, Delphia knew that there was going to be no way to get Steve to change his mind. Delphia wasn’t sure how things were going to go, but she was both anxious and ready to follow him in this battle.

As if Delphia was going to allow herself to be benched during this. It really was the last chance that the SSR most likely had to stop Schmidt. She would be a fool if she didn’t try to get herself involved in it. After all, she has a year worth of vengeance brewing within her that has to be served to the Red Skull. Delphia would usually scold her brothers not to be blinded by something like revenge, but she can’t help herself.

After being subjected to the torture that Schmidt had put her through, killing one of her frist Midgardian friends, and causing so much distress during this war, Delphia felt justified in her pursuit. The only thing was, she had to convince those around her to allow her to go. The most difficult person to convince would most likely be Steve.

So as everyone started to get their battle plans together, she made quick work to approach Phillips. “Colonel,” she started with a strong conviction in her tone.

The man looked up from his paperwork before handing it to someone else, “yes, Ms. Delphia.”

“I would like to help.” It wasn’t a question of whether she was helping or not. She made up her mind and that means she’s going to join them on their venture.

Phillips already knew what that meant and clicked his tongue at her with a critical eye, “I sure hope that you don’t mean to help us on the front lines.”

She tilted her head slightly, “That is exactly what I mean.”

He sighed heavily, “I understand that you want to join in on fighting these HYDRA bastards, but I’m not sure if I can allow you to come with.”

Having him already denying her claim to go with them caused her to purse her lips. This wasn’t something simple like running paperwork back and forth around the bunker like a messenger, she knew that. She also was far too aware of the fact that women were not on the front lines in this war, which she didn’t completely understand, and understood the standards. However, this was by far something different. This involved her torturer and an artifact from her own home. She would not allow herself to sit on the sidelines now of all times! “Have I not proven myself as an admirable fighter? I helped Steve retrieve the captured men of the 107th, I helped train your men in fighting techniques-”

“This is different.”

Delphia’s eyebrows twitched, “you will need all the soldiers you can get to fight this.”

“Are you a soldier?” He asked her simply.

“At times,” her answer just earned her a disbelieving scoff from Phillips. “Either way, I believe I know Schmidt more than any of your men. I can help on the ground any way they need.”

Phillips stared at her for a long moment, taking in her determined stature. “Don’t make this something I regret.” The last thing he wanted was for a young woman to get hurt on the front lines. However, she’s too stubborn to just let this go. He knows for a fact that if she would find a way to the battlefield behind his back. As she has done that previously. It was better to make sure that she was safe within their view than going behind their back to join. Even if she was a bit of a charity case in Phillips' eyes, he wouldn’t want to see her get caught up in this in the wrong way.

As he walked away, Delphia felt herself smile triumphantly. It surprisingly was much easier to talk her way into getting involved in this than she originally thought. She figured she would have to plead her case more to him about joining. Perhaps she had proven herself to him to an extent, or he just knew that she was going to join regardless of what he said. Either way, Delphia was more than happy.

“You’re coming on the mission?”

Delphia spun around at the sudden voice. It was Steve who stared at her with increasing worry growing on his face. She nodded, “Yes. Colonel Phillips agreed with my proposal.”

“Proposal?” He chuckled lightly, “I feel like it was more of a demand than anything.”

She just shrugged her shoulders bashfully, “Well, I suppose that I was going to join no matter what…”

Steve shook his head as a serious expression consumed his face. “Delphia, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I will stay safe,” She stated plainly, “I have done well enough to do that so far.”

He just shook his head in denial, “You weren’t on the field like this, Delphia.

“I am not a fragile little girl, like you might think.”

“Delphia. I don’t think that you’re fragile.” Steve quickly explained. By no means did he think she was fragile, at least not in the sense that she might be thinking. She’s fragile to him in the way that she was precious to him. So of course he wouldn’t want to have her in any sort of danger. There was a short silence between them as Steve took a moment to build up the courage to say what he wanted. He placed a hand on her cheek, caressing it tenderly. The two stared into each other’s eyes, bright blue clashing with warm hazel. He made sure to portray the raw emotion that he was feeling in this moment to her through just his gaze. “I care for you. The last thing I want is to see you hurt.”

As much as she loved the sentiment from him of keeping her safe, Delphia had heard enough of it. She blinked slowly, “Even when I am away from the prying eyes of my family, I still am controlled. I would not argue with you, if I did not know what I was doing. However, with something like this. I’m not sitting by. I want to fight. I want to fight with you. You will not change my mind.” Ever since she had started to get her visions she had been constantly surveyed no matter what she did. In her home, on her trips(which were minimal), or even while she was in her own chambers. Just to make sure that she wasn’t in any sort of danger at all. Midgard wasn’t completely different, however, she appreciated it to an extent. This was a land that she did not know all too well, so she appreciated being monitored and kept safe. However, something like this was going to be different. Those around her might not like it but there was no changing her mind.

Steve shook his head at the determined expression on her face. He just knew that she wasn’t going to change her mind. Through the way that she was quite headstrong about something like fighting alongside them was something that Steve found quite… attractive. He couldn’t help himself but chuckle, “You’re quite the stubborn woman.”

“You would not have me any other way,” Delphia said, almost playfully despite her serious tone.

“That’s true.”

It was as if a spark was lit just in that moment. With the combination of the largest battle that they’ve had just on the horizon and their relationship developing into something more intimate, the moment seemed right. So the two leaned in slowly before their lips met. The kiss between them was soft and almost awkward, but perfect for them. Steve was slightly clumsy with how he pressed up against her as Delphia was unsure where to put her hands. However, it was still sweet in their eyes. Maybe it wasn’t the right moment for it to happen, as both of them would rather have this romantic moment without the impending fight looming over them. Though it was still wonderful.

It’s been quite some time since Delphia had her last kiss, but this felt so much different from the ones in the past. Her brothers had scared off most suitors of hers when they were younger, and even now, so the secretive kisses she had gotten in were long ago and nothing too special. Though with Steve… It just felt so explosive, so right to her in that moment.

As they slowly pulled back from each other, neither knew what to say after such a mind numbing kiss. Truthfully, nothing else had to be said. They had explained all of their feelings in that kiss. After all, what else could they say to express their feelings at this moment. So this amazing moment allowed the two to bask in their peacefulness. The calm before the storm, and how splendid that was.

“You ready?” Peggy asked her friend as she primed her weapon.

“For a good fight?” Delphia asked as she smirked, “Always.” She also was given a weapon, as they couldn’t have her unarmed. A small pistol was given to her. Delphia isn’t one for guns or weapons in general, usually relying on her magic when on the battlefield. However, it wasn’t like she could use that here. Last thing she needs is people questioning her abilities.

Delphia waited alongside Phillips and Peggy as they watched from the treeline. Their plan was quite simple and most likely extremely effective. Using Steve as bait to get into the facility, taking out as many men as he could and creating an entry point for the forces outside was impressive. Of course, Steve seemed to make it as flashy as he could. Then again he couldn’t not be flashy in his Captain America attire.

“For a good fight?” Delphia asked as she smirked, “Always.”

The radio that Colonel Phillips had crackled to life, “We’re in, assault team go!”

Phillips nodded his head, “Move out!”

Finally the signal came, and everyone on the outside was ready to fight their way inward. The SSR soldiers all swarmed the base. They fired their guns against the HYDRA agents who retaliated with their own tesseract powered weapons. There were men who were falling on both sides.

“Cut off one head, two more shall…” The soldier started to say but was cut off when Phillips shot him.

“Let’s go find two more!” Phillips shouted out as they ran in. So all the men scattered around the base, finding HYDRA men and killing them. Storming the base seemed somewhat easy as their enemy was not expecting such a harsh ambush.

Just as she was rounding a corner with Peggy and the group of men she entered with, Delphia saw a line of actual fire being shot at Steve. Though Peggy made quick work of dealing with that soldier as she just gunned him down.

Steve blinked and turned to find the group “You’re late.”

“Maybe you were early.” Delphia shrugged before pointing towards the shield wedged in the doorway. “I believe you have to…”

Steve nodded his head, “Right.” He then took off after Schmidt with his impressive speed.

They all came running into the main hangar area. Chaos was everywhere, no matter where Delphia looked. Shots were being fired, bodies were disintegrated, and men were shouting. She knew that her brothers would just love to see such a battle. Well, more of Thor, he was always the more violent and battle-centric brother.

“Delphia!” Peggy’s sudden voice called out drawing her attention. She turned to find that Peggy was in one of Schmidts cars, Phillips at the wheel, “In here!”

She made quick work of jumping into the vehicle next to Peggy in the backseat. The car then peeled away as soon as she set foot in the vehicle. They drove out towards the hangar to see a large aircraft trying to take off. Also in front of them was their very own Captain America.

Phillips pulled the car up right next to him, “Get in!”

So he jumped into the front passenger seat hastily. The car sped quickly across the hangar to try and catch up with the plane. Phillips then pushed a nitro button of the car, increasing the speed significantly. They then came close enough to the large wheel of the plane thanks to that speed boost. Steve stood up, ready to try his best to get onto that plane at any cost.

“Steven!” Delphia called out above the sound of the wind and engines around them. He turned to her quickly as she pulled him down, and planted a brief kiss on lips. Had he been in a less intense situation, that might have short circuited his mind. Though despite how amazing it might have felt for even the briefest of kisses with her, he had a duty. In his daze he glanced over at Phillips and Peggy. The colonel looked slightly uncomfortable while Peggy appeared smug, as if she had just won a bet.

“I’m not kissin’ you!” Phillips yelled over the wind.

Peggy flashed him a smile, “Good luck!”

With one last lingering look between Delphia and Steve, Captain America climbed his way onto the hood of the car. From there, he jumped just at the last second to grab onto the wheel of the plane. The final battle between him and Schmidt was about to happen, and he was going to make sure that this ended here and now.

As Steve climbed away. Delphia saw the end of the tarmac coming worryingly fast. So Delphia thought quickly. While she had thought she wouldn’t do this while on Midgard, the circumstances called for it. She conjured her seiðr to save the car before it flew off the edge and into the abyss below. She whipped around and allowed white tendrils of brightly white magic come out of her hands that made quick work of digging into the ground behind the car. It effectively slowed the car down and caused it to come to a skidding halt. It was barely just in time as the car nearly tattered off the edge of the cliff. A part of Delphia just hoped that neither Peggy or Phillips noticed her save. That was something that she did not want to have to explain. She told herself when she was first captured by Schmidt that she wouldn’t use her magic in fear that it would just fuel his manic personality and the experiments on her.

Maybe they would chalk it up to a trick of the eye or their imagination acting up, perhaps. Though if either Phillips or Peggy actually noticed the tendrils that grabbed the ground to stop the car, they didn’t comment on it. That could have been due to the fact that their attention was aimed towards the plane as it flew away.

Delphia stared up and watched as the large plane started to fly away. She could barely spy Steve hanging onto the wheel as it was retracted back into the plane. So the end was starting to begin, and she couldn’t be happier about that.

“We’ve secured the base,” Peggy started to inform as she joined Delphia in the communications room along with Jim Morta. “Most HYDRA soldiers are either dead or surrendered and we’ve started looking over what other weapons that they have.” Delphia didn’t even seem to react much to Peggy’s words as she nodded her head absentmindedly. Her thoughts were obviously focused on other matters. Just by looking at the expression on Delphia’s face, Peggy knew how anxious she was. Though she couldn't say that she also wasn’t nervous about Steve. “He’s a strong man, he’ll come back.”

“I hope,” Delphia said through a shaky breath. A thoughtful expression was on her face for just a moment. She was contemplating on her next few words, but before she could filter herself correctly she just started speaking. “Even during my childhood when I joined my brothers in fighting, I never had the dread of losing someone in battle.” It was true. She knew that her brothers and friends were resilient enough to fight and were quite durable to many different things. However, Midgardians are far more fragile than them. The smallest of things could cause a Midgardian to die. She sighed heavily, “Perhaps that was the blissful ignorance of a young woman not knowing the true consequences of war. This… It fills me with dread.”

To be honest, Peggy didn’t completely know what Delphia was talking about. She had been in battle before? While Peggy would say that she also has while being a field agent, she didn’t think that Delphia was the type of woman to do so. Though some would say the same for her. Even still, childhood? That seemed far-fetched. However, even then she understood the idea of having to come to terms with having to come to terms with the thought of losing people. Peggy had to accept it after brother had passed due to fighting in the war. He was a wonderful man, an amazing brother, brave soldier, and a death that Peggy never knew she would have to experience.

Delphia paced back and forth with Peggy watching her. The two were anxious about Steve’s whereabouts, with Delphia starting to panic only slightly. She had seen in her vision what more or less happened on that plane. Schmidt would be consumed by the tesseract and disappear, leaving Steve the victor. However, why was it taking too long? What had she not seen the other night in her vision?

As she was growing more and more upset, the radio started to spark to life as a voice came through the static. “Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?”

“Captain Rogers,” Jim, who was sitting at the radio controls, let out a sigh of relief, “what is your…”

At the sound of his voice, Delphia rushed over to the microphone and took the man’s spot. “Steven? Are you alright?”

“Delphia!” The tension in his voice disappeared, obviously happy to know that she was safe. “Schmidt’s dead.”

A smile crawled onto her face at that piece of news, “Thank the Norns. What about you? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, but the plane…” He trailed off anxiously, “I’m gonna have to put her in the water.”

It was as if a bucket of ice cold water had been poured over Delphia. A crash landing? Even if certain Midgardian technology still confused her to a certain extent, she knew that planes would not survive a crash where he was. Delphia shook her head, “We can find a safe place for you to land. Howard can help, I am sure of it.”

“There’s not enough time.” Steve denied, “This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York.”

“Steven…” Her heart started to tighten as the outlook of this situation became more bleak. “There must be something we can do.”

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere.” He explained, “If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. Delphia, this is my choice.” Even if he were in the plane, oh so far away from her, he knew that she had to be close to tears, just like he was. The last thing he wanted to do was to die during this war after just having met Delphia not too long ago and admitting their feelings. However, he has no choice. He pulled out the compass with the photo of her. He wanted her vibrant smile to be the last thing he saw. The joy that she brought to him with just a simple look needed to be what would keep him calm enough during this. He called out one last time, “Delphia?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.”

“Of course, you name a time, a place,” Delphia let out a weak, watery chuckle, “I will be there.”

“You got it. You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the statement, “I can teach you. Even if I am not the best either.”

“We’ll have the band play somethin’ slow.” Steve said, ignoring his impending doom in that moment, “I’d hate to step on your-'' The abrupt end to his words brought dread into Delphia’s stomach. It felt like a rock weighing her down as the reality was slowly bleeding into her mind.

“Steven?” Delphia called out into the static, “Steven? Please?” Peggy placed a comforting hand on a shell-shock Delphia’s shoulder. She could do nothing but begin to cry. The man that she loved had sacrificed himself for the greater good. How she wished that did not have to happen. She hated this, with all her spirit. She hates being on Midgard, it’s brought her nothing but heartache. All she can do now is hang on to Peggy as the two begin to cry at their loss. The loss of a great man. The loss of Captain America. The loss of the Midgardian man that Delphia loved.

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AHH we're almost there! Only two more chapters to go! After this, technically the next installment in this little 'Revival Universe' of mine will be 'A Change of Heart' which is the Iron Man 1 fanfic that's already got one chapter up. After that I'm thinking of just doing Iron Man 2 straight after and then Thor! Honestly, I have such a big idea of what I want to try and write when it comes to Marvel and these ocs I've created. Is it a little over my head? Perhaps, but that isn't gonna stop me. I love writing!!! Anyway, until the next chapter, my friends!

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marlasomething · 1 year

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(my) Mag a Week: Natural Destruction

Before anything: next week there won’t me another “chapter” of these, I am going on holiday.

Hello there!

I am participating in the "a mag a day" idea which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened.

This week I am a bit late, sorry, life. For today I rolled Archivist!Martin Blackwood and The Extinction (Eps. 147-155).

As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, Marla

Allons-y!

CW: mentions of murder, self-harm, swearing, toxic family dynamics

Also on AO3!

Statement of Mary Cage, regarding the re-appearance of her twin children, almost a decade after they disappeared in the first place.

Audio recording by Basira Hussain; The Archivist.

Statement begins.

I never wanted children; all I ever wanted was a legacy and children were the easiest way of getting one. If you ask me, the best option is to have three kids, so at least one will be worth saving , even if it just because he or she wants to prove to be less of a disappointment than the other siblings.

I know it sounds harsh, but it is what it is. One of my children needed to outlive me in a manner in which I would never be completely forgotten; it is not an affair to let completely to luck and randomness.

Therefore, that is exactly what I did: I had three children, my beautiful precious Rosalind and her older brothers, Charles and Jack. I recall thinking for a very long time I got lucky, since I had two thirds of the work done at once…now, I am not so sure, perhaps I will still have one viable child if they hadn’t been that close…Maybe they wouldn’t have disappeared at all.

It wasn’t long before I knew Charles and Jack wouldn’t make it in this world in any significate way. It wasn’t that they were bad, or stupid, or especially clumsy; they just weren’t enough of anything. It was so, that I started to feel laziness towards them, as if they weren’t worth my time. And, then, Rosalind was born and, even though she was the blandest baby I have ever seen, she brightened up my life. After all, her emptiness meant that she had all the potential to be moulded into anything. Not only that but, as she grew older, she proved to have absolutely no mind of her own, yet a brain so powerful she was quickly to understand everything, memorise almost all data and even be sensitive with people in a manner not even mental health professionals can be.

In other words: I have my child and, also, two other kids who also happened to share my blood.

Since the only complain I used to have about Rosalind was how fragile her health was in summer (and only summer, we still don’t know the reason behind this), this was the part of the year where most annoying I found those other two needed mouths.

I wanted them so badly not to be there, to not keep occupying space and oxygen and even part of my capacity of loving …but I couldn’t, at least, not directly.

Perhaps leaving the door open before taking Rosalind to the hospital wasn’t that incidental, maybe, only contacting the authorities, no PI mixed on trying to get them back…maybe I was glad they were gone.

Maybe, now, like this, I could work more and better in the perfect offspring I had always deserved.

The next nine to ten years were uneventful. Rosalind was growing into the very exact person I wanted her to be, my husband was just a presence that did his part (and I make no illusions he thought any other way about me) and things were…as they were supposed to. I made a world for myself and, yes, that can become rather tedious from time to time, but the overall is safe, nice. A perfect design in which the faults of our reality mattered no more.

With, of course, the extra-safety of knowing that, no matter what, everything I was would be carry on thanks to my wonderful only daughter.

Then, her siblings re-appeared.

If there was any doubt it was the teenage version of the boys that had gone missing almost a decade ago, it was corroborated by the DNA test my husband and I almost violently insisted to be done to them the moment it was legally allowed to do so.

At first, they were silent, and we were afraid they had become some simpletons with more animal than human instincts, but we were wrong: they were just shy, scared of being pushed into the streets…just as I should have done.

Their story was quite simple, actually: the twins had gone lost in the woods, where they had found a couple determined to live without the poison that is Western Civilization (their words, not mine), the pair had adopted them, turned out to be far more literate than most teachers we could have found for the pair and eventually died. So they had chosen to come out, arguing that “even we like what we were taught, we want to believe there can still be hope for our species”. We couldn’t do nothing and, after all, all they did was to eat more expensive (and healthier, according to them) than before and speak certain nonsense to whomever was there to listen.

However, one day, their audience was different than the usual.

One day, the audience was Rosalind.

I just wished she had cut her ears off beforehand.

I know that, deep down, the twins meant nothing with what they said. They did believe their charged rhetoric, but that was it: there were no brainwashing shady second intentions to their speech.

Still, they should have realised that Rosalind wasn’t the ideal person to listen to a fiery discourse without taking out the most dramatic conclusions and how to act upon them.

The entire concept of the human species destroying a place that is not own by us more than a flower or the oceans infuriated her up to the point that she actively refused to take any means of transportation other than one of her three bikes or her very own feet.

This only affected her, but then she started to interfere with her father and I, trying to throw away or donate those clothes that we had tailor-made for one concrete event, changing our daily menus and even meal times, calling to cancel all our television subscriptions…I don’t know how she did it so efficiently in so little time, but before we could even began to react, we were in the most Spartan house I could even begin to conceive in the twenty-first century.

Meanwhile, the monster of teenagers my oldest children had become just kept a perpetual smug face, as if they were proud of their influence in their baby sister. They weren’t so high and mighty when Rosalind decided ( found out , according to her) that she wasn’t doing enough.

And so she went to her next phase.

I recalled the disgust I felt when I saw my beautiful perfect Rosalind staring at a mirror, at her beauty untarnished and simply started to scratch her face. First almost gently, then with such fervour pieces of skin were falling to the floor, right next to a mirror.

I gasped and tried to stop her without being harmed in the way (she was much stronger than she looked and my bones are fragile), to what she only reacted by lowering her arms and calming me, saying that she had had enough, that it was just “not fair” that someone like her got so much when other people were being condemned just for the factions they got at birth.

I immediately sent her to her room and called her father and siblings to the living room. It would be shameful, but I was completely willing to put her in an asylum if that could help. Yes, sorry, that word is not politically correct but, if you see your life project mutilating herself out of some nonsense her estranged brothers muttered without even being firm believers (they are already back to the sports team and playing X-Box every other day, for fuck’s shake!)….you wouldn’t care either about what should be said.

However, what was so clear to me wasn’t to my useless husband and even more dead loss children. They began to say I was being “too much myself” (whatever that meant) and we spent hours arguing. By the time I had managed to convince them, we went upstairs…

…to find the lifeless body of Rosalind, who had been mutilating herself until she had died. Apparently, of blood loss.

With some…I hope it was just blood, she had written in the floor “that is what Humanity deserves”.

At first, I thought it was bit too extreme. I could understand the pressure getting to her, her weak mind falling for certain moralities and even the self-harm. After all, it isn’t as if I hadn’t been her age…the message, though? That was beyond worrying, my child hadn’t been that crazy, been that wrongly made. She was a vision, not a nightmare; she shouldn’t have believed that.

So, as I mourned the empty casket we buried (there was a break in the funerary the night before and the bastards that did it took a few corpses apart from every single item of value), I started to wonder how she could have come to that conclusion, to the almost stated fact that Humanity deserved ugliness and annihilation…then, I understood it.

It wasn’t my daughter who had been at fault, not even my now also deceased stupidly insidious twins; it had been this rotten planet of ours. This place is ungrateful to us, the species who managed to turn it from a jungle filled with irrational parasites to the garden of refinement and progress it is today.

I will avenge my daughter and, with her, also myself. I am making my personal mission to scorch this world to the ground; I am even making sure no remains of those I might end in my path can be used by the Earth as its personal fertiliser.

Please, if I am writing to you it is because you are people of thought and intellect and I wish nothing but to spread my word to those who could understand it.

Help me consume this planet.

Statement ends.

The more time I spend as The Archivist, the most certain I am this whole classification of fears is pure bullshit that we had turned real after inventing it. Yes, I know that our new director that doesn’t have at all Elias’ eyes and speaks just like the bastard Jon went to jail for rightfully murdering him is giving me this statements about The Extinction as this new threat that is rising from the shadows but, in all honesty? If it is real, it is just re-contextualizing other elements that people following these alleged Fears.

About the statement itself, I could look into it, even look into it properly; but I would rather go have a drink with my equally doomed mates, taking advantage of our new director curiously connecting so quickly with Lukas…

End recording.

#a mag a day #a mag a week #mag horror #statement #original statement #the magnus archives #fanfic #tma #magnuspod #basira hussain #original statement giver #the extiction #alternate season 4 #alternate universe #ao3

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Leon brings Merlin and Lancelot in on his underground enterprise;

Turns out, Leon is the biggest Magic Ally out there. Confusion, bonding, and sneaky hijinks ensue.

I imagine it starts fairly normally.

The Gang (King Arthur, Merlin, and the five knights) have literally just arrived back at the castle after a fairly uneventful hunt (I mean... nowadays, getting attacked by bandits only once in three days counts as uneventful).

Merlin is left behind to help the stablehands untack the horses, like usual, except he leaves the stables half a candle mark later to find Leon awkwardly loitering around outside, the evening dimming around him.

He thinks maybe the First Knight had gotten injured, and was too embarrassed to ask for help in front of everyone (something that is common in all of the knights. Merlin thinks it’s very stupid, and has told all of them this at least once), so doesn’t question it when Leon asks Merlin for a quick word, and leads him back to his quarters.

Leon locks the door behind him. Not unusual, the man was very private. It’s when he puts a chair in front of the door and draws the curtains, that Merlin starts to get a little nervous. He’d cast a small enchantment on one of the bandits, to make him confused enough to trip over his own feet (as opposed to skewering Elyan, which is what he’d been about to do) but Merlin was certain that no one had seen him. He was certain.

And... Leon was a knight. He’d been a knight for longer than Arthur had been King, longer than he’d even known Merlin. Surely if he saw... he would've said something, accused him or just killed him.

(He has to remind himself to have a little faith in his friends. But also: “This might be completely unrelated, so just act natural.”)

Leon turns around to look at Merlin, and instantly recognises how nervous the younger man is, despite his poor attempt to hide it. The knight keeps his distance, and gives him a slow nod:

“I just wanted to let you know, Merlin, if you ever need... ah, a way out of the city, unseen, at short notice, then I can sort something for you.”

At that, all of Merlin’s racing, terrifying thoughts, stutter to a stop, and he looks at Leon with nothing but confusion on his face. He tilts his head slightly, asking, ever so eloquently:

“...What?”

Leon sends a soft smile and a knowing wink his way:

“Or, you know, the back up of a noble in court, or an alibi, I can do that to. I have a feeling that, considering you haven’t done a runner yet, you’re planning on sticking around.”

Merlin just furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment:

“I... Leon I have no idea what you’re talking about. What do you mean, done a runner? Why would I need your help in court or... or an alibi??”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, and tilts his head.

Merlin copies him.

A look of realisation crosses the blonde’s face, and he lifts his hands in surrender:

“Ah. Ok, before I say anything else, I promise Merlin, you are entirely safe. I would protect you with my life if I had to-”

Merlin slowly nods, still confused:

“-I know about your magic.”

Merlin gasps and steps back, but Leon just smiles at him again, nodding his head slightly; it does nothing to relax the servant, and his breathing continues to get deeper as he backs himself against the wall, tears filling his eyes.

Leon frowns, his heart cracking slightly, but resists the protective urge to walk towards Merlin to comfort him. Instead he takes a step back, not lowering his hands. Before he can open his mouth to utter more reassurances, a tirade of broken, cracking apologies fall from Merlin’s lips:

“I... Leon I swear I’m not evil, I... I don’t hurt people, I promise. Please, you... please believe me, I would NEVER-”

Leon interrupts him, shaking his head rapidly, and forcing a reassuring smile on his face:

“I know. Merlin, I know that. I know you’re not evil, I know that you use it to protect us, I know. It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone, you’re not in danger, I would NEVER hurt you, or tell anyone, ok? I swear it. You’re safe with me.”

Merlin gulps, but relaxes (only slightly, but it’s a start. Leon doesn’t know why he’s so surprised at Merlin’s reaction, I suppose he thought he had been clear in his brotherly affection and protectiveness towards the younger man. Apparently not; he would have to fix that). He gives Leon an assessing once over, and it strikes the knight how efficient he is. He wonders how many times Merlin’s eyes have flicked over someone: checking their face for any sign of deception, checking how close their hands are to a weapon, checking their stance to see if they’re preparing for a fight.

Leon stays in place, forcing himself to untense, and giving Merlin a weak smile, hoping that the servant doesn’t mistake his slight heartbreak for fear or anger.

After a few moments, Merlin relaxes even further (though is still understandably ready to bolt at a moment’s notice), and steps away from the wall, Leon’s smile widens, and he nods once again, patiently waiting for Merlin to say something:

“You... you offered to smuggle me out of the city?”

Leon nods, glancing to the door behind him before gesturing Merlin to keep his voice down as he replies cryptically:

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

The servant gulps, giving the knight an assessing gaze, magic buzzing under his skin, alert and frightened at the idea of a Red Knight other than Lancelot knowing the truth:

“You’ve smuggled others out?”

Leon nods and moves ever so slowly to sit on the edge of his bed, still holding his hands up placatingly. He doesn’t gesture for Merlin to join him, understanding the other man’s remaining jumpiness, but leaves space next to him, just in case.

Merlin hesitates for only a second before settling on the bed next to him, forcing himself to relax. The knight wasn’t currently armed, and anyway, if Leon had been planning on accusing him or attacking him, then he wouldn’t be doing this. None of what he said could, in any way, make sense as some sort of trick.

Once Merlin settles, still a little uneasy, Leon begins his explanation in a quiet voice, obviously still worried about startling Merlin (and obviously not wanting to risk someone overhearing him):

“It started when I was fifteen. One of the serving girls in my father’s household was born with magic, though it didn’t manifest until years after the purge started. She was my age, sweet, kind, I couldn’t possibly believe her to be evil or corrupt, but under The King’s law, she would’ve been burned. Poor girl was terrified of being found out, but Uther was so paranoid, they were basically interrogating anyone who entered or exited the city; she had nowhere to go. I had already started my training at this point, so I used my knowledge of guard rotations and shift changes to sneak her out. I left her with some family in a village nearer the border, snuck back in a few days later. From then on it just... kept happening. I suppose I got good at recognising the specific brand of fear that magic-users in Camelot suffer from, and I’ve got a good eye; I know magic when I see it-”

He gives Merlin a knowing look, but the servant just turns indignant and says:

“Well, I was also born with magic, and it took you ten years to figure it out, so-”

He sticks his tongue out at the knight, and Leon raises his eyebrow at him, before laughing and nodding, thankful for Merlin’s lessening fear:

“-yeah, I suppose. But still. It started off with just the occasional person; one or two a month. And then it was whole families or groups of people who either had magic, or were scared of being accused and wanted out. It became a bit of a side-career, though I always refused any payment they offered.”

Merlin stares at him, thoughtful and in awe, before yet another look of realisation crosses his face:

“Is this why the Druids are so fond of you?”

Finally, it’s Leon’s turn to look confused, and Merlin continues:

“Whenever we come across them, they always seem less wary of you than the other knights, like they know what you’ve done.”

Leon takes in slow breath, quirking his eyebrows slightly and shrugging:

“I’ve never really noticed, maybe. I’ve never been into a camp, but when someone I was sneaking out had nowhere to go, I’d take them as close to a Druid settlement as I dared, and pointed them in the right direction; I suppose word might’ve spread.”

Merlin nods, looking to his lap, thinking. Leon stays silent, understanding that this is probably a lot to take in, and not wanting to interrupt Merlin’s processing time.

After a few moments, Merlin, still staring into his lap, reaches across to Leon and takes the knight’s hand in a shaking one of his own. It’s then that Leon notices the slow tears on the other man’s face, but before he can say anything, Merlin looks up at him, his voice shaking as he whispers a rough:

“Thank you.”

Leon smiles, squeezing his hand and bumping their shoulders together:

“Anytime. Like I said Merlin, I would protect you with my life. If you ever need anything...”

Merlin takes a deep breath, standing and wiping the tears from his face quickly before dragging Leon to the door:

“There is one thing. Come on.”

Leon allows himself to be dragged, and Merlin moves the chair to the side before stepping out of the way, allowing Leon to unlock the door with the key hanging around his neck. He doesn’t question where they’re going, though he is slightly confused when he notices that they’re heading deeper into the castle, as opposed to outside or to Merlin’s chambers like he was expecting.

They finally come to a stop outside Lancelot’s door, and Leon nods to himself in realisation. He had suspected that the other knight had known the truth, but hadn’t wanted to ask or push it in case he was wrong.

Merlin knocks rapidly after checking the corridor for other people, and the door had barely been opened before he’s pushing his way through, still dragging Leon behind him. The two men move to stand by the opposite wall, Lancelot still by the door looking increasingly confused:

“Merlin, Leon, is... is everything alright?”

Merlin waves his hand casually, not even needing an incantation as his eyes flash briefly gold and the door shuts of it’s own accord (... or Merlin’s accord).

Lancelot immediately gasps and makes a jump for the sword sat on the table, but Leon holds his hands up in surrender as Merlin rushes to speak:

“Lance it’s fine!! Leon knows about my magic, and he’s been smuggling people out of Camelot for decades, he’s safe.”

Lancelot looks to Leon with a mix of suspicion and relief, still picking the sword up and holding it loosely in one hand, but the older knight is too distracted staring at Merlin in mild outrage:

“Dec- How old do you think I am, Merlin?!”

Merlin looks up at him guiltily, and Lancelot lets go of his suspicion, instead clamping his free hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at Merlin’s squeaked reply:

“Uh... there’s no safe way to answer that, is there? You said you were fifteen when you started, and I know you’re older than Arthur, so...”

Leon scoffs, rolling his eyes as Lancelot snorts:

“I’m only five years older than him, Merlin. I’m thirty-one, you can say “decades” plural when I hit thirty-five, and not a day sooner.”

Merlin holds in a smirk, and nods. Lancelot clears his throat, dropping the sword back on the table and asking the obvious question:

“So... how much does he know?”

Merlin spends the rest of the night explaining everything, from Kilgharrah calling to him when he first arrived, (”You mean that thing was under the castle the whole time?!”) to just last week, when he had to sneak out of the city to deal with a particularly insatiable Succubus that was causing problems with the border patrols (”Huh. I wondered why the men had just... stopped disappearing. I’m not complaining though, thank you.”).

He included all the information about the prophecies and being Emrys and how Arthur was the Once and Future King and the coming (potential) Golden Age. Leon was especially curious about that, and interrupted often to ask questions.

Lancelot also interrupted rather often, but only to correct Merlin when he underappreciated his own genius or power or selflessness, much to Merlin’s embarrassment and annoyance.

Merlin also tried to miss out as much of his own suffering as he could, but Lancelot wasn’t having it, and Leon was horrified to learn of the Serket sting, the countless, almost fatal fights he’d had with various people (Nimueh, The Cailleach (”I did also wonder how the veil just... repaired itself. Nice one.”), Morgause, Agravaine, etc (Morgana is good in this, though her magic is still hidden)), and all the other terrible things that had happened.

When he finally finishes, Leon is speechless.

The knight had just thought that Merlin had learned a few tricks to keep himself and Arthur safe when they went out and about, but he was actually, apparently, the most powerful Warlock ever, and had a whole series of prophecies and battle scars to back it up. Lancelot’s face was an odd mix of prideful and mournful, and that only drove home to Leon how much Merlin had suffered over the years.

After a few minutes of silence, Merlin awkwardly waiting, as if for judgement, Lancelot pipes up, his voice oddly cheery:

“So, Sir Leon, fancy two extra sets of hands in the little smuggling ring you’ve got going?”

And that is essentially... exactly what happens.

It’s usually Leon who discovers the sorcerers, being the most observant of the three, but it’s Merlin they send on the first approach more often than not. Leon had always been painfully aware of how scary a Camelot Knight going “I know you have magic” must be, so the trio takes advantage of Merlin’s non-threatening look. That, paired with the fact that he’s well known and well loved around the town, makes starting things off a lot easier.

A lot of the time, the people they approach don’t want to leave. They’ve kept themselves hidden for over twenty years, and they plan to continue to do so, but it’s a weight off their back to know that the option is there if they need it.

Merlin introduces Leon to the tunnels under the city, hidden and warded with his magic. The older knight is very much relieved at that; taking advantage of gaps in guard rotations wasn’t the most reliable plan, and he’d been paranoid for years that something would go wrong one day and he’d get caught.

They worked well together, though all three of their lives got a lot more complicated. Lancelot and Merlin were pulled into Leon’s secret smuggling life (despite him insisting that they could sit it out, considering they were already so busy trying to keep Arthur alive, which is apparently a lot harder than Leon had first assumed), and Leon was pulled into Merlin and Lancelot’s secret “bring about the Golden Age” life (despite the two of them insisting that Leon didn’t need to help, considering he was already so busy running a smuggling ring right under the nose of the King).

To be honest, the two lives sort of swirled together. Anyone that they sent to the Druid camps was told to spread the word of the Once and Future King, and when Leon was sent to distract Arthur when Lancelot and Merlin needed to do something Magicky, Lancelot was sent to distract Arthur when Leon and Merlin needed to do something smuggly.

Eventually Gaius finds out. Because of course he does. Because he’s not stupid. And whilst the three of them are unwilling to put him in anymore danger than he’s already in (harbouring a Warlock is... pretty dangerous. Though Arthur would probably forgive the older man anything.), they never turn away the small, portable medkits he passes along to them, and don’t complain when he offers to talk to Arthur about a promising new treatment for the flu for a few hours.

But overall, they have a proper little (unpaid) enterprise going, and no one suspects a thing.

Mistakes are made of course, some a little bigger that others. But most of them get a laugh from the trio when they think back on them later.

Ironically enough, this mistake came when the trio mistook a “need to save Arthur” problem, for a “need to save this poor scared sorcerer” problem.

They’d been getting complacent. No one had tried to kill Arthur directly in a while, so when a visiting Lord brought with him a very nervous, very secretive stablehand, they didn’t even consider that it would be the young servant who wanted to kill Arthur as opposed to the visiting noble (who was an arsehole, and therefor automatically under suspicion).

Merlin, being the most powerful of the three of them, was keeping an eye on the noble; trying to keep him away from Arthur as well as trying to figure out if he knew that his stablehand was a magic-user. Leon was distracting Arthur, with the help of a report Gaius had written, by talking endlessly about certain weaknesses in the knight’s armour and the injuries that Gaius treats most often and the link between the two.

That left Lancelot to trail the stablehand, whose name they had discovered was Alban. He wasn’t wearing any armour and didn’t have a sword, only a small dagger up his sleeve, so as not to frighten the boy.

Which of course was a huge mistake.

Considering how innocent Merlin looks, but how dangerous he actually is, they really shouldn’t have underestimated the boy, but alas, with how well both of the secret lives had been going, their egos had grown, and they weren’t as careful as they should’ve been.

It was only after the Lord had retired to his chambers (and Merlin had come to the annoying conclusion that he was an arsehole, but certainly not smart enough to be dangerous), and Leon had exhausted every possible line of enquiry about armour and injuries, that the two of them thought something might be wrong.

It had been hours since they had heard from Lancelot, and by the sounds of it, no one had seen him in that time either.

The stablehand also couldn’t be found.

They tried not to assume the worst; all of them (Merlin, most often) had disappeared for longer before, so before they panicked, the two of them went about methodically searching for the other knight.

The wards down in the tunnels hadn’t been disturbed, Lancelot’s room was untouched (the sight of his armour and sword laid out on his bed did nothing to quell their growing anxiety), and no one had seen him leave the city. The Camelot stablehands had no idea where the visiting servant was, and had apparently barely seen him in the stables since he’d arrived anyway.

Now it was time to panic.

The two men rushed back to Lancelot’s room, shutting the door behind them, Merlin hurriedly asking:

“What’s the last thing he touched, do you reckon?”

Leon raked his hands through his hair for the dozenth time, looking around with wide eyes:

“Uh... we had training this morning, and he took his armour off after that, and immediately went to follow Alban, so his armour? His sword?”

Merlin picks the sword up in careful but hurried hands. He closes his eyes, concentrating, as he mutters a quick spell. The sword shimmers for a moment before Merlin throws it back down on the bed with a huff:

“Nope, the trail is there but it’s weak, I need something more recent.”

Leon curses quietly to himself:

“Try his water goblet? Or the wash bowl? God knows that man doesn’t like to be grimy.”

Merlin hums, walking to the wash bowl before halting in his tracks:

“Wait... no, you’re right. He doesn’t like being dirty,-”

With that, Merlin changes direction, heading to the small desk in the corner and opening the draws at random, rifling through them. Leon walks up behind him:

“Merlin? What are you-”

He’s interrupted by Merlin exclaiming in victory, and straightening up. He turns around with a grin on his face, holding out a small comb:

“-he will have run a comb through his hair after washing,-”

He pulls a short, brunette hair from between the wooden teeth:

“-and an actual piece of him is WAY better to track him with than something he’s just touched.”

He repeats the spell from earlier, the smile returning to his face when he begins to feel the pull in his heart, leading him to the lost knight.

The two of them leave the room hurriedly, Leon trailing after Merlin, both of them trying to look an inconspicuous as possible.

They walk briskly down the corridor, hope and excitement blooming in their chests at the idea of finding the friend they’d been so worried about. Leon puts a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, but neither of them stop moving as he speaks lowly:

“Can you tell how far away he is?”

Merlin hums, before replying equally quietly:

“Yeah, I think he’s about... actually... no, no I can’t- what?”

With that, he stops dead in his tracks, stumbling when Leon runs into his back with a gentle “oof”. The knight looks down at him, his face back to looking panicked. They’d stopped at a crossroads in the corridor, and Merlin’s head twitches from side to side, like he can’t decide which way to go.

Leon shakes his shoulder slightly:

“Merlin, he’s been gone for hours, we need to hurry. Close your eyes, breathe, which way is Lancelot?”

Merlin does what Leon says, shuffling on his feet slightly before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and relaxing his shoulders:

“Where are you, Lance?”

He mutters it quietly to himself, and Leon barely dares to breathe, not wanting to distract him. After a few moments, Merlin’s head twitches to the right, the corridor that leads to the servant quarters. The servant opens his eyes, nodding briefly at Leon, before turning and walking down the corridor.

He passes the first few doors without hesitation, thankful for the late hour; all the servants are either eating their own dinner, or serving dinner to their masters. Which is probably where Merlin should be right now, but he had more pressing matters, he could deal with Arthur later.

He slows as he reaches the end of the corridor, frowning in confusion. There are no more doors, they’ve reached a dead end, and Merlin tilts his head whilst Leon stares at him expectantly, periodically checking the corridor behind them. Merlin begins muttering to himself again, flexing his hands as if he were in pain:

“This is... wrong. I don’t come down here very often but... there’s... this is wrong. I can feel it and I can... see it, like there’s something out the corner of my eye that shouldn’t be there-”

He gasps, turning and looking at a specific part of the wall, hovering his hand over the stonework:

“-or something that should be there!”

Leon’s gaze flicks between the wall and Merlin as he quietly asks:

“A hidden door? Can you... unhide it?”

Merlin takes a second to snort and roll his eyes, before pressing his hand against the wall, muttering spells to himself. Leon turns around, hand on the hilt of his sword at his hip as he stands guard. After a few minutes of Merlin getting more and more frustrated when the wall stays... well... a wall, he finally lets out a whispered exclamation; Leon glances behind him to see the stone rippling, and finally fading to reveal the door.

With one last check down the corridor, they enter the room slowly, shutting the door behind him. Leon whispers Lance’s name into the darkness tentatively, but Merlin just shakes his head, summoning a light.

It’s just a normal storage room filled with dusty shelves and empty crates, but Merlin moves through the debris to the back, cursing under his breath when he finds what he’s looking for. Leon moves up behind him, staring over the younger man’s shoulder to the precise symbol drawn onto the floor:

“Merls?”

Merlin huffs speaking lowly, not looking away from the symbol:

“It’s a teleportation spell, it’s why I was being pulled in two directions. Lance went through this portal, but it probably took him somewhere outside the city limits.”

Leon gulps, before taking a deep breath and gripping Merlin’s shoulder again:

“Can you activate it? Do we follow through the portal, or track him out of the city??”

Merlin shakes his head roughly:

“No, that would take far too long, we don’t actually know how long he’s been gone, it could have been all afternoon, remember? Look around, there should be a crystal or an orb or something, like a switch I have to push magic into to activate the spell.”

It only takes a few minutes of rummaging for Leon to uncover a rough looking crystal, and Merlin smiles weakly at the comically fearful look on the knight’s face as he holds it as far away from himself as he can; he may trust Merlin’s magic, but he is still logically... unnerved by things he doesn’t understand.

Merlin takes it from him, eyes turning briefly gold as he mutters an incantation and his hand is engulfed in a blue flame. The flame dies down after a few seconds at Merlin’s command, and he hides the now glowing crystal back where Leon had found it, before looking back to the symbol on the floor.

It takes only a few moments for the lines to start softly glowing, and when nothing else changes, Merlin takes a deep breath, reaching behind him blindly for Leon’s hand, and muttering:

“Well, here goes nothing.”

He feels the knight take his hand and step up next to him. With one last nervous glance to each other, they nod, and step into the circle.

MEANWHILE

Thankfully, whilst Lancelot hadn’t been seen in a while (on account of being camped out in the hidden storage room, waiting for his stalkee to reappear out of the weird glowy circle thing), he had only actually been kidnapped by Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand for about half a candle mark.

And he was currently very bored. The younger man finally reappeared, only to fly into a rage at the sight of another man, crouched like a gremlin, almost asleep in the corner of the entrance to his secret lair.

His eyes had flashed sickly yellow, and Lancelot found himself falling over the edge into sleep, and waking up an undetermined amount of time (like five minutes, but it was so fucking dark where he was, he had no way to guess what time of day it was) later, tied to a chair (not gagged, thankfully).

He had realised the trio’s mistake fairly early on in Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand’s monologue; something about vengeance and sins of the father and yadda yadda yadda. Honestly? He tuned it out pretty quickly, he’d heard it all before... multiple times, and he wasn’t too worried; he had faith that Merlin and Leon would arrive to rescue him soon (though he wasn’t looking forward to all the comments along the lines of “who’s the real princess?”).

It was when he almost nodded off that Alban stuttered slightly:

“...after all, surely someone who is strong enough to take the crown should... should deserve... it... are you falling asleep?!”

Lancelot’s head whips up with a quiet snort as he blinks the sleep from his eyes, and looks at the outraged criminal with guilt in his eyes:

“Uh... no? You’re doing wonderfully, Alban, very riveting, keep going.”

The knight’s words do nothing to calm the other man down, and he exclaims slightly as he stamps his foot petulantly. Lancelot bites his lip to stop himself laughing, but before he can get himself under control and say something else, Alban puffs his chest out and grins triumphantly:

“Your mind games shan’t work on me, Sir Knight. I will not be distracted by your mocking or... or distractions.”

Lancelot raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Alban huffs, shaking his head roughly before looking back at Lancelot with wide, expectant eyes:

“Well? What do you think of my plan, noble Sir? Ineffable, no?”

Lancelot purses his lips, once again looking guilty as he chooses not to point out the younger’s misuse of the word ineffable (definitely NOT ineffable, considering he’d banged on and on for half a candle-mark):

“I don’t suppose you could... sum up the last twenty minutes or so worth of... plan? Then I could.... let you know my thoughts?”

Alban let out an inhuman screech, stamping his foot again, much to Lancelot’s hidden amusement. The Great Villain stalked off into the darkness, huffing and grumbling to himself, and Lancelot just rolled his eyes, murmuring under his breath:

“For fucks sake. Better not leave me here. Where the fuck are you guys?”

As if the Gods themselves answered the knight’s question, he hears another inhuman screech come from the darkness; though this one was a lot more high pitched, and was immediately followed by Leon’s unmistakable voice growling out:

“Where is he you pre-pubescent piece of shit?!”

Lancelot allows himself to snort at the likely look of terror on the Not-Stablehand’s face before yelling:

“Don’t make the kid shit himself Leon, if he does, you’ll be the one carrying his unconscious body back.”

He hears Merlin’s laugh and the distinct sound of a skull making contact with the hilt of a sword, before the two of them appear like ghosts, lit only by the glow of Merlin’s golden eyes, and the magical light floating between their heads.

Lancelot gives them a grin, shuffling in his binds slightly as he says:

“Took you long enough, he’s been banging on about how clever he is for fucking ages. Cut me loose, would you?”

Merlin clicks his fingers, the ropes falling the the floor as Leon checks him over for injury, and affectionately ruffling his hair, much to the other knight’s chagrin.

The three of them move to crowd around Alban’s crumpled form, hands on their hips as they stare at him, unimpressed. Lancelot sighs:

“You really didn’t have to hit him that hard, I don’t think he was that much of a threat.”

Merlin huffs and stalks off to reactivate the teleportation spell, leaving the chastising for Leon to deal with:

“Not much of a threat?! Lance no one had seen you in hours, we thought you were dead!”

Lancelot frowns and shuffles, suddenly looking apologetic:

“Ah, sorry. He took me less than a candle-mark ago, though I guess I lost track of how long I’d been sat waiting for him before that. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Leon huffs, but drops the subject as Merlin calls back to them. The curly-hired knight picks Alban up, laying him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before following Lancelot in Merlin’s direction. They stand around the glowing symbol, and Lancelot rolls his eyes at Merlin’s glower:

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Mister I regularly show up after three days covered in bruises and blood with “The Tavern” as my only excuse.”

Leon snorts and Merlin rolls his eyes but smirks, and with that, the trio step into the circle, reappearing back in the storage cupboard with no one else in Camelot even vaguely aware of the mini adventure they’d had.

This happens for a while. Saving people (mostly Arthur) from the batshit insane things that happen in Camelot that no one but them seems to be aware of.

Of course, rumours fly about the oddly close connection the three men have. Lancelot is head over heals in love with Guinevere (which he ardently denies, despite Merlin and Leon’s repeated dramatic attempts to get them together) and everyone knows it, but even Arthur starts to (jealously) suspect something is going on between Leon and Merlin, especially when Merlin’s lack of talent when it comes to making up excuses is displayed yet again.

Leon and Merlin had been sneaking out of the castle, on their way to meet the teenage son of a noble who desperately needed to escape. Lancelot, who had a late patrol, was to meet them by one of the tunnel entrances outside the city limits, and assure that no other guards were nearby.

Unfortunately, the pair came across a sleepy King, on his way to the kitchens for a midnight snack.

The King stared at them with wide, shocked eyes, and the pair stared back. Leon grimaced slightly, and after a few moments of awkward silence, Arthur slowly asks:

“What are you two... doing?”

Leon takes a deep breath desperately trying to come up with something to say, but before he can find an excuse, Merlin pipes up:

“I was teaching him poetry.”

Leon lets out his breath before slowly covering his face with his hands as he shakes his head slightly. Merlin immediately realises his mistake and bites his lip, furrowing his eyebrows as he says:

“What I mean, is that-”

He’s cut off by Arthur holding a hand up, his face looking mildly put-off as he shakes his head:

“I don’t want to know. Yeah, I changed my mind, I really... don’t want to know.” Before turning around and heading back in the same direction he’d come from, hunger forgotten.

Merlin holds his breath until Arthur turns the corner, before letting it all out in one go and staring at the floor wide-eyed. Leon keeps his head in his hands as he mutters:

“You fucking idiot.-” before looking up at the man besides him incredulously:

“-Why??”

Merlin looks at him indignantly, and loudly whispers:

“I don’t know!! It was just the three of us in a dark corridor like last time and it just popped into my head and I said it! At least he didn’t push, I suppose.”

Leon shakes his head again, before a look of realisation crosses his face and he looks at Merlin with dread in his eyes:

“Yeah... except when you used that excuse on me- shut up, of course I knew you were lying, I’m not an idiot- I thought you and Arthur were uh... well, I thought you were sleeping together...”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he sputters for a response before he lets out a quiet, deranged laugh, and shakes his blushing head:

“First off, no. Second off... at least he didn’t push.” he repeats. Leon squints at his friend, before he gasps and grins:

“Oh my God, you like him!-”

Merlin scowls at him, and Leon laughs gleefully (though still quietly) before whispering:

“-all this time we’ve been ribbing Lancelot about Guinevere, and we should’ve been ribbing you! Oh my God, wait ‘til Lance hears this.”

Merlin turns on him, face bright red as he angrily (or as angrily as he can, when he’s the colour of Leon’s cape, and the knight is trying not to wake the castle up with his laughter):

“I swear to God, Leon, I will turn you into a fucking toad if you breath a word to anyone! I’ll do it, I swear I’ll do it!”

Leon forces himself to breath and coughs slightly as he catches his breath, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder:

“Fine, fine. I won’t say anything, but only if you help me hang mistletoe up in Lance’s doorway next week.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, but nods his head with a grin, and with that, they resume their sneaking around.

This happens for what feels like years and years, but really, Merlin only gets one day into looking at Leon with a shit-eating grin and saying that the old man has been doing this for “decades”, when suddenly... they don’t have to do it anymore.

Arthur repeals the ban on magic.

And to be honest, it was a complete surprise to everyone. Of course, the whole Kingdom knew that he was more tolerant than his father had ever been; he hadn’t executed anyone in years, and unless accusations were serious or life-threatening, he rarely ordered investigations.

As it turns out, he’d been working on it in secret for months, with only Morgana’s help (not that he knew about her magic, she was just the only person in his life who’d always been vocally against the ban). All the work they’d put in meant that when it came time to present it to the council, all Arthur had to do was hold his head high and say something along the lines of “I am your King, you do this, or you lose your seat.”.

The drafts were so well-worked, so perfect, the council had nothing to argue against, no excuses worth more than a roll of the eyes and a dismissive wave of the hand.

The repeal went through seamlessly, and Arthur was announcing Merlin and Morgana as his Court Sorcerers within a week (after of course a few hours of raging at the lies and deception, in which they defended themselves and each each other with sharp tongues and entirely valid descriptions of their terror, and with Leon and Lancelot stood behind them the whole time ready to pull their swords at a moments notice).

Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin told the King about all their adventures saving his arse, which he floundered at before abashedly thanking them, but they never mentioned the now obsolete smuggling ring they had going.

Of course, there were moments when they missed the excitement of sneaking out at night, the victory of seeing a family off to the Druid’s, or to a safe village, but ultimately they were ecstatic that they weren’t needed in that capacity anymore. It was undeniably a good thing.

Their plan to keep their heroics to themselves failed miserably however, when a crowd of around two-hundred gathered in the courtyard, led by a woman in her mid-thirties who looked mighty familiar to Sir Leon.

The gang met them down there, armed and worried at first, but quickly relaxing when they realised this was the furthest to an attack a group this large could get.

The King led the party, Morgana, Elyan, Gwaine, and Percival to his left, and Merlin, Leon, and Lancelot to his right, Guinevere and Gaius waiting by the castle entrance. It was only when Lancelot gasped, and grabbed Merlin and Leon’s sleeves to point at a specific family near the front of the crowd that they understood. All these people, all these happy, joyful, alive people... were people they’d saved over the years.

The three of them gulped, suddenly teary as more and more of the crowd pointed their way, wide smiles on their faces. They knew that this wasn’t even half the people they had saved (if you include Leon’s sixteen years doing it alone), but still, it was astounding to visually see it.

The familiar woman stepped forward at Arthur’s gesture, and the trio suddenly realise what’s about to happen. “Oh shit.” and variants of the above are muttered by all three as they wait with baited breath. There’s not really anything they can do to stop this:

“Your Highness, firstly I would like to thank you, for accepting my people back into your Kingdom-”

Her voice quietens slightly as she glances to the floor, her eyes filling with tears before she looks up again:

“-many of us haven’t been home in... in a long time, and it’s good to be back.-”

Arthur nods, giving her a smile despite his still growing confusion at the crowd behind her. The woman looks quickly to Leon, giving him a brief smile as he gasps, recognising her. She looks back to the King, raising her voice and her head as she continues:

“-Secondly, I would like to extend an even greater thank-you to Sir Leon, and his two companions, without whom many of us would have died. They risked their lives sneaking us out of the city when your father hunted us, and after, when we were still at risk of execution, but they never stopped, and never gave up. We are but a fraction of the hundreds of people they saved, and we have nothing to offer them but our unending gratitude, and a humble demand that they are rewarded for their service to Camelot’s people. They are heroes to us all, and always will be”

Arthur looks slowly over to a very teary Leon, who doesn’t even glance his way as he stares at the former servant-girl, a weak smile on his face. Merlin and Lancelot meet The King’s gaze in his stead, smiling sheepishly and shrugging as they nod, confirming the woman’s story.

Arthur shakes his head minutely, half proud of his friends, and half annoyed at being caught off guard, before turning back to the woman, the smile back on his face:

“I’m glad to welcome you home, all of you, and I apologise that it took so long for me to right the wrongs committed by this Kingdom. Sir Leon and his companions will indeed be rewarded for their service,-”

At this, Arthur turns to look at the trio, a soft, meaningful smile on his face as he nods at them:

“-and I extend my thanks to them also, for being brave enough to protect my people, when I was not.”

Leon finally meets The King’s gaze, and returns his nod. Merlin and Lancelot each clap him on the back, before the three of them descend into the crowd. A loud cheer goes up around the courtyard, the rest of the knights, Morgana, and Guinevere looking on in shock as the trio greets person after person, accepting thanks and hugs and laughing joyously at the reminder of the good they’d done, despite their fear.

THE END!!

I really loved writing this one😄! Honestly this idea started out as crack, but I’m glad that it ended so wholesomely :)

Same as usual lads, someone wants to write it up properly or extend it, go for it, credit and tag me ✌️

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misschifuyu · 3 years

Text

To choose a lover

requested here

characters: ran haitani + rindou haitani

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Giggles and whispering comments were passed around, giddiness present in the voices that spoke out just a few metres away from you.

As much as you tried to focus on the tiresome work that was splayed out on the piece of paper before you, it was completely futile to drown the girls out.

It didn't take a genius to know what they were talking about. The school you were all under had the privilege - if one could even consider it as such - to hold two infamous students.

The Haitani brothers.

Whilst the eldest was in his final year, the younger still had another year under this roof until he followed in his brother's footsteps.

But there was really nothing to dislike about going to class when one had a literal fan group who's main topic was always them.

There were girls who preferred Ran, with his signature braids that they always wished they could undo for him; and others that would always fawn over Rindou's cocky ways and stubbornness, trying to catch his attention wherever he went.

The current conversation, however, wasn't just fixed on talking about their aspects.

Far from it. Sending each other questionable looks and making fun of those on the other side of the opinion, they were discussing who, out of the two brothers, was better.

Those on Ran's side had the advantage of saying that he was older, therefore more responsible and willing to take care of anyone.

Sure.

He would make the perfect husband, some were proclaiming. But...the youngest would always want to show that he is the strongest, the more dependable one, as a result of the inferiority that had always hung with him since they were young.

It wasn't that he was, he just hadn't pushed himself to be known as much as his brother had done all those years back.

Needless to say, it was an argument that would never see an end. At least not until the two left the school behind and continued up to wherever the future would take them.

It was amusing, from your point of view, to hear all of these discussions. For years now you had known the two, as close friends who had grown up on the same street, so you knew everything that there was to them, right down to what they actually did when they said they were studying.

Definitely something that the girls would be pushed back by if they ever found out.

But, if it really came down to it, you probably wouldn't be able to pick one out of the pack that they came in, either.

They both had their merits and faults, and, truth be told, neither of the two were that much of a pleasure to be around with, as much as their fans would beg to differ.

One thing was for sure, though. It had come into the light when the three of you had been hanging out one afternoon, without much else to do.

You had asked the youngest about what he thought about his notorious lower level when it came to comparing him with his brother.

It had simply been a spur of the moment, and you hadn't expected him to actually give a sorrowful response.

He was well aware that he was viewed as the weaker brother of the two, and as much as he'd try to prove otherwise, it had always been something that would eat away at him.

Naturally, both you and Ran had jumped to convince him that he was far from a weak person.

The fact that he was viewed as such meant nothing at all when it came down to the reality of what he was, and that there was no point in even listening to those ignorant - and frankly, irrelevant - opinions about himself.

At the end of the day, although you would never openly admit it near the oblivious fangirls, you held a considerable amount of affection towards the two of them.

Of course, they had their odd moments in which you only wished to hit them around the head with Ran's metal bar; but, all in all, they would always be your childhood friends.

So choosing between them was simply out of the question.

Both of them held an equal importance to you, so when a peculiar feeling started growing for one of them, you quickly averted it so it would be felt for the two, whatever it were to be.

They were two peas in a pod, and you weren't about to change this because of a measly crush.

However, the thought would only bug you more whenever you were all together. Such as the current situation, sat right between the two of them on the comfort of their couch.

Before even coming over, you had mentally ordered yourself to disregard the ridiculous thoughts that had flooded your mind.

The girls back at school hadn't help with the problem one bit, if anything they worsened the conflictive feelings; and now you were to spend the afternoon with the two.

One could only think that all odds were against them in such situations.

Head resting on Ran's shoulder, legs atop Rindou's, your eyes were fixed onto the screen before you. The reasoning behind spending the afternoon together was the airing of your favourite show.

However, you were now racking your brains over what you were supposed to do after the series ended. Watching a movie was the prime option, but you figured they would want to move from the couch and do something else.

And the two were very talkative, so you would have to, inevitably, push everything in your mind aside to prevent from even giving the smallest hint surrounding your thoughts.

Your stiffness didn't go unnoticed, and, soon enough, you felt a hand on your leg, startling you in an instant.

"What the hell is up with you today, Y/N?"

Rindou had lost all attention for what was playing on the screen, and it looked to be as though he had for a bit now. This meant he had felt your change of attitude well before he had actually asked about it.

"What? No, nothing...why?"

Knitting his eyebrows together, the blond looked over at you with a disbelieving stare. By now, you were sure Ran had shifted his interest towards the two of you.

"You've been all skittish since you got here. You got something important on your mind or what?"

Geez.

"No...I've just been thinking about something stupid, that's all. Don't worry about it, now let me watch th-"

"That being?"

Now you were cornered. From behind you, having turned to look at Rindou, a voice spoke out the question. In slight panic, you managed to come up with another way around it.

"Well...that, let's say, if I had to choose one out of the two of you, I wouldn't know who I'd pick. It's a silly question one of my friends asked today, that's all"

God bless the fan girls. You were sure to never judge them internally again, because they might have just saved your skin in the nick of time.

Your nerves calmed down as you heard Rindou chuckle at the concern, and you figured he'd just brush it off as another one of your peculiar inquiries.

However, as he fully turned towards you, it was clear that he wasn't about to let this go unfazed.

"Well, you can't just leave us like that without an answer. Go on then, if it was a life or death situation, who would it be?"

"Rindou...you know I'd get rid of both of you if I could"

You all laughed at your words, stirring the conversation into an area that you were certain you could get a hold of.

Each one of you was just as ridiculous as the next one, so it wasn't hard to divert difficult topics.

If only the youngest wasn't so damn pushy.

"On a real note, there's gotta be one of us that you like just a little more, Y/N"

Upon knowing that perhaps you had driven yourself into a dead end, you started to fumble with your fingers.

What the hell were you supposed to say? If you picked one, the other was surely to get the wrong idea.

"Um..."

A slight shift behind you made you turn your head, catching Ran just a little too close for comfort to your face. Great, just what you needed.

After a few, nerve racking, seconds in silence, it was the eldest of the two that decided to break the ice. You were all just wasting time there, after all.

"Listen...since my brother seems incapable of forming a decent sentence, what we've been trying to get at is which one you'd choose, because we've both liked you for some time now and we kinda need to know who you'd go out with"

Well.

Certainly an unexpected turn to your seemingly uneventful afternoon. It appeared that you weren't the only one struggling with the damned feeling that was a crush, but you hadn't gambled that it would be both of them...and for the same person.

You couldn't choose.

In the same way that you had to waver the feeling of more than just friendship between the two of them, there was no way you could pick one now.

It would be unfair for the other, especially since you would only be lying to yourself for saying that you felt nothing for the half that was left aside.

There was only one way out of this, unless you wanted to shatter the relationship you had built between them for the past years.

"I...both of you. I can't leave one of you out when I, well, like both of you"

A huge weight was lifted from your body the moment the brothers exchanged a look, followed by an agreeing nod. Far from the catastrophe you had gambled with, that much was sure.

As Ran leaned his head on your shoulder, Rindou gave you a bright smile, one that not everyone had the chance to say that they've seen.

"Wasn't so hard to say, now was it?"

No. What was going to be hard was having not one Haitani by your side, but two, as a partner. Sure enough, you were really going to know what their poor mother had to put up with now.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo manji revengers #tokyo revengers ran #ran haitani #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #tokyo revengers x reader #ran x reader #rindou x reader #fluff

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soobmint · 4 years

Text

voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

“And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

“We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

“Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

“Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

“How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

“Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

Until his voice was gone.

It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

“Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

“Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

“Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

“Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

“I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

“Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

“Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

“Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

“Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

“No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

“Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

“Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

“I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

“Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

“Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

“Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

“We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

“Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

“Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

“It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

“Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

“You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

“Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

“Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

“What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

“I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

“Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

“I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

“Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

“Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

“I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

“They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine—”

“No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand. He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

“We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

“Where should we set them?” He asked.

You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

“In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

“Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

“No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

“What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

“The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

“Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

“I said, why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

“That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

“Well, what’s the issue then?”

“You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

“You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

“I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

“How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

“Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

“You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

“No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

“What do you mean?”

You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

“W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

“You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

“It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

“Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

“Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

“Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

“Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

“Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

“And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

“Should we run away?”

Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

“Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

“I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

“How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

“Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

“I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

“What did I say?”

“Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

“Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

“Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just . . . thought I heard someone.”

“Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

“Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

“When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

“And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

“No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

“No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

“Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

“Yep. No answer.”

“Taehyun?”

“Nothing.”

“The professor?”

“Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

“Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

“Hey, we said we were starting over.”

You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

“What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

“It was—”

“It was real pretty, kid.”

You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

“If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

“Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

“What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

“Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

“How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

“First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

“Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

“Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

“Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

“Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

“Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

“Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

“Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

“What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

“My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

“I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

“No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

“I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

“What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

“It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

“Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

“Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

“Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

“Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

“No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

“How about Beomgyu?”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

“A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

“It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

“Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

“I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

“What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

“There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

“Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

“Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

“Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

“I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

“Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

“Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

“Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

“Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

“Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

“Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

It was your soulmates voice.

You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

“Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

Beomgyu was your soulmate.

Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

“I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

“Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

“Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“That you’re my soulmate.”

He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

“So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

“I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

“Should we run away?” He asked.

This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

2K notes · View notes

heliads · 3 years

Text

Deserve You

Based on this request: “Bucky imagine where you're dating but you're not an avenger, so you sometimes feel not good at all for him even though he loves you more than anything. one time he comes from a mission to you waiting in his room, doubting again but he immediately tries getting this thought out of you and gives you his dog tags to prove he's yours forever and it's all cute then? :)”

masterlist

You open your eyes gradually, the last remnants of sleep being dragged away by the brightness of dawn. You allow yourself one final moment of lingering silence before sitting up with a yawn. A brief spurt of panic flashes across you when you realize that you’re alone in your bed, but then you hear a quiet noise from the kitchen and your pulse begins to settle once more. Bucky must have already gotten up, there’s no need to worry.

You keep having moments like this, where you turn to find yourself alone and keep thinking that this is it, that he’s finally left you. Then you mentally chide yourself for thinking that way- every single one of the Avengers that you’ve met on your trips to the old Stark Tower keeps talking about how Bucky’s head over heels for you, so why would he ghost you out of nowhere? You always smile for a second, thinking about your boyfriend, and then the doubt creeps back in and you glance around to find him. Every single time, without fail, those lurking remnants of doubt always worm back into your mind, and sometimes it feels like there’s nothing you can do to get rid of them.

The only available option is to find Bucky and put your mind at ease by knowing that he’s still here. So, you slide your legs out of the still-warm blankets, grimacing at the shock of the cold air, and pad over to the kitchen. Sure enough, Bucky is holding a mug of some hot beverage, maybe coffee or tea, and staring out the window at the city below him. He does this, sometimes, just watches the city like he could do it for hours. You have a feeling that he’s studying the city for any last lingering resemblance to the New York he’d grown up in, when the most pressing news was World War II and he didn’t see himself in Siberia for anything more than a ski trip, if he could put together enough pennies to afford it. However, life has a way of throwing you for a loop, and all of Bucky’s plans for the future evaporated as soon as he plummeted from the train all those years ago.

Bucky turns when he hears you approach. “Good morning.” You smile, joining him by the window. “Good morning yourself. Are you up early for an assignment or because of a nightmare?” Bucky frowns. “The latter. Did I wake you? I thought I was quiet.” You shake your head. “No, I was asleep the whole time. I just knew because you have that same look on your face after you have your nightmares.” Bucky laughs quietly. “And here I thought I was supposed to be the spy who knew everything. Sure you don’t want a job at S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I’m not sure that paying attention to my boyfriend really qualifies me for FBI: Avengers Edition, but I’ll keep it in mind.” You head over to the fridge, starting to pull out some items for breakfast. Bucky leaves within a few minutes, mumbling something about an early morning meeting, and you head to work yourself soon after. Your own workplace is no Avengers Tower, just a typical office building, and you slide into your seat just in time to start the day.

The morning itself is fairly uneventful, and you’re just starting to think that it’s going to be another boring day as usual when you head off to your lunch break. As you’re waiting in line to use the microwave, you hear a pair of women talking at a table near you. You had no intention of eavesdropping, but although their voices are fairly loud your attention was hooked from the beginning when you realize they’re talking about Bucky. More specifically, they’re talking about Bucky’s girlfriend, or lack thereof.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, he had been careful to keep you out of the public eye. When you work as an Avenger for long enough, you learn to keep everyone important to you out of focus, out of danger. If a HYDRA agent got word of the former Winter Soldier’s girlfriend, you’d be on a train to Siberia with handcuffs and a blindfold within the hour, a ransom request already placed on your head. That’s if they were patient- if not, they would just shoot you to send a message. By making sure nobody heard about you, Bucky could keep you safe.

The downside of this is times like now, when you have to listen to two of your coworkers discussing how strange it is that a man as attractive as James Barnes would still be single. Obviously, you can’t say anything, and you’re not sure that they’d believe you if you tried, but it’s still slightly uncomfortable to hear the conversation swirling around you even as you have to stay silent.

One of the women clicks her tongue in confusion. “I mean, isn’t it weird, though? He’s a friend of Tony Stark, there’s no doubt he’d have a shortage of girls who’d be willing to go out to a bar or something on a weekend.” The other woman laughs. “I bet that surplus of girls includes you, right?” The first woman grins cheekily. “I wouldn’t say no if he asked, but even I don’t have a chance. I mean, he’s an Avenger, and one of the hottest ones there. No one here could hold a candle to him. He saves lives on a daily basis and what do we do, sit around all the time? The only woman I could see him with is an agent or maybe Black Widow. At least then he’d be dating someone who’s his equal.”

The words feel like shards of ice threading through your heart, and you turn to go back to your desk, hunger suddenly forgotten. As you stare at your work, though, you find you can’t concentrate. You keep hearing what the women had said, that no one in this miserable office could be worthy of dating the famous Avenger Bucky Barnes. They’re right, aren’t they? Bucky was saving lives all the time while you complained and acted so needy. You sigh to yourself, feeling your spirits dampen by the second. Why did Bucky see in you anyway?

Bucky’s shoulders feel like they’ve been carved from stone. He’s been tense for so long that he’s certain he’ll never be able to move again. Today is the day that he has to begin reviewing case files from his time as a Winter Soldier. He’ll have to come face to face with photo and video evidence of all the wrongs he’s done, of all the killings and blood shed by his own damaged hands. He’s been trying to avoid it for a while, but S.H.I.E.L.D. needs his input on all of the past Winter Soldier missions in order to proceed with the ongoing investigations into the last HYDRA strongholds. Bucky has no choice but to confront his past, he knows that, but it doesn’t make his job any easier.

It’s not like he’s alone, though. Natasha is here, because her experience with the Red Room could prove useful with putting together some pieces of the HYDRA-Siberia-Soviet puzzle that’s been plaguing them for some time now. Steve is also here, one door down, looking at his old medical files that detail exactly how some brilliant scientists turned a scrawny kid with a death wish when it came to standing up to bullies into the strongest man of the century.

Bucky clenches his jaw, and turns back to the manila file folder in his hand. He flips it open, taking out the diagrams and security camera stills and laying them out onto the table before him as he reads. He’s flipping through the rest of the contents of the folder when he pauses, staring at the images awaiting his acknowledgement. Natasha sees him freeze slightly and glances over to see what’s troubling him. Her brow dips in understanding.

Lying before him are photo after photo of death and destruction. Bucky remembers this day now, after it was buried so long under HYDRA mind wipes and his own crippling want to forget. The bodies of the dead line a small street, buildings reduced to rubble. He can see the dead, so many of them. There aren’t just the few military commanders he was sent to exterminate- no, HYDRA wants no witnesses and so Bucky had killed everyone in sight. There are children in pools of blood, their mothers reaching over them as if to shield them from the inevitable bullets coming their way. He tells himself that their deaths were quick, efficient, maybe even painless, but it is not enough. There is no way to justify this amount of bloodshed.

Natasha puts her hand on his shoulder. The gesture, meant to bring comfort, startles him and it takes all of Bucky’s self-control to not flinch. Bucky swallows hard. “I did all of this. I killed every one of them.” Natasha’s voice is low and quiet. “It wasn’t you. You had no choice in any of this.” Bucky laughs, thought it is heavy with horror and breaks in upon itself. “It’s easier to say that, but it was still my hand pulling the trigger.” He leans back against the wall, trying to steady himself.

“How were you and Steve able to convince anyone to trust me? Why did you even want to save me in the first place?” Natasha stares at the photos, taking in the broken bodies of the dead. “Steve knew the real you, the one who’s standing here right now and would never attempt this sort of carnage. I knew what it was like to lose all control and feel like your hands would always be stained with blood. Second chances are more powerful than you might think.”

Bucky shakes his head slowly. “I don’t deserve that chance. I don’t deserve any of this.” He closes his eyes for just a second as if by blocking out the world he can block out the memory of the methodical shudder of the rifle in his hands, the recoil as he fired again and again. “I don’t deserve Y/N. She-” Natasha cuts him off smoothly. “Y/N knows what you’ve been through, and she knows that you are not that same man. I’ve spoken with her before, and she knows the full extent of what you did.”

Bucky’s eyes cut back to the photographs. “Then why does she stay?” Natasha’s gaze feels like a leaden weight, unflinching and unyielding. “She stays because she loves you. She stays because she knows that the real Bucky Barnes is a hero, someone who is willing and able to move on from their past. Y/N is one of the most important parts of your life, not because she’s a good kisser but because she’s one of the only people who can see straight through you and know that you’re a good man.”

Bucky nods. “I don’t need you to tell me twice.” Natasha’s right, though, and even the barest mention of Y/N brings back a wave of good memories to fight against the bad. She’s like an anchor, someone holding him in place even when all of the darkness he’s had to endure threatens to pull him under. It astonishes him sometimes that he still wakes up beside her every morning. She’s so perfect, so wonderful. What does Y/N see in him anyway that would make him so lucky to have her with him?

You’re in a despondent mood for the rest of the day. You slump home, not even bothering to turn on the lights but discarding your coat and bag in the dark of the room. The faint light still shining through the windows is all you’ll need. You stare unthinkingly at the apartment for a while, then head to your bedroom. As you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you stop with a sigh, leaning your hands against the dresser underneath.

You stare at yourself, at the dark circles under your eyes. Who are you, anyway? Who are you to think that you would ever be good enough for an Avenger? At this point, it’s only a matter of days before he breaks up with you. No wonder he keeps waking up before you- he’s trying to leave without seeing you that often, as a way to lessen the blow of the eventual goodbye.

The problem about gloomy thoughts is that they tend to wrap around you, pulling you away from everything else. You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the front door open, and you don’t notice Bucky enter the apartment until he knocks softly on the wall of your bedroom as he stands in the open door. You turn around with a flash, plastering on a smile, but your reaction is too late and his brow furrows. “Are you alright?”

You try for a smile, reaching out to kiss him in greeting. “Of course I am. How was your day?” Bucky is not to be deterred. “I saw your face, Y/N. You looked really upset. Is everything okay?” Maybe it’s that velvet tone of his, or the concern laced in his eyes, but your few fragile defenses break down. You turn to him, fighting back tears. “Why are you still with me?” Bucky frowns. “What?” You hold your hands up uselessly. “You’re an Avenger and you’re out there saving lives all the time. Why would you ever be interested in some girl from the city? I’m not half the person you are.”

Bucky stares at you for a second, then wraps his arms around you, drawing you close. “Y/N, love, why would you ever think that?” You look away. “Because it’s true. You should be dating some other superhero of a woman who could be your equal.” Bucky’s frown tinges slightly with anger. “Did you hear about this on some news show? I told that one news outlet that if they said a single thing about me I’d shut them down, and I’ll do it-” You cut him off. “It’s not like that. It’s just- You’re an Avenger, Bucky, and you deserve someone equally as brave as you are.”

Bucky guides you gently over to the bed, and the two of you sit down on the edge. He pulls you into his arms. “I don’t want some superhero. I want you. Y/N, I love you because you’re the only one here who sees me for who I really am, not just some soulless Avenger but a faulty person. Honestly, if anything I’m surprised that you’d still stay with me.” Your tears dry up as you stare at him. “What?” A quiet smile spreads across Bucky’s lips. “Every single day, I come home and you make a difficult day a thousand times better. You know me better than I know myself, and even despite everything I’ve done and the monster I’ve been, you still make me feel like a good man again. You’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met, Y/N, and you deserve someone equally as good as you are.”

You shake your head slowly. “That’s not the same. Anyone can be nice.” Bucky cups your cheek in his hand. “Nobody else knows that I always get up in the mornings and pace around because of the nightmares. Nobody else knows that I always stare down the alleyways on the walk home because I keep thinking I’ll see Steve in there getting beat up, or help me pick out jackets based on how easy it will be to remove the left sleeve. You’re the only one for me, doll, and I wouldn’t trade you for a heartbeat.”

He reaches into a pocket. “Here, I’ll prove it.” He takes out something silvery, like stamped metal. With a jolt, you realize they’re his dog tags, the ones he had from fighting in World War II all those years ago. He gestures for you to turn around and you do, feeling the weight of the metal around your throat as he fastens them. When you look back at him, he’s smiling. “See? You can’t get rid of me, love. Not in a million years.”

You smile, running your fingers over the faded lettering. “Won’t you want them? You know, as a memory of your old life?” Bucky shakes his head, a content expression lingering in his eyes. “I don’t need them to remember. I’ve got you, and you’re the only home I’ll ever need.” When he kisses you again, you can feel the dog tags right over your heart, like a promise that he’ll always be with you, no matter what.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier x reader #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #tfatws #tfatws imagines #tfatws x reader #catws #catws imagines

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 3 years

Text

Sleep talk

Harry Holland

A/N- i literally have no patience so i’m giving you all this way earlier than i anticipated. OOps 🤭❤️

Summary- a bad habit of talking in your sleep gets you into a predicament you would have never expected

Word count- 4k

Warnings- sleep talking. Smut. So much smut. additional warnings under the cut.

🌸🌼 Masterlist 🌼🌸

Warnings: Wet dreams. oral (F receiving) unprotected sex, (Please wrap it up!)

You wondered if anyone else felt that the car was stuffy. Sandwiched between Sam and Harry with Tom and Harrison in the front, there was little to no room. This was day three of the ten day road trip, and you were officially tired of sitting in the car. Sam was respectful, trying to give you as much space as he could with you being in the middle seat, Harry on the other hand was pushed up into you with his hand resting on your leg for the umpteenth time. Not that you particularly minded, but you weren't sure why he was being so touchy with you. Your mind kept wandering every time his fingers brushed across your thigh, and as much as you tried to not think the things you were about him, you couldn't help it.

You had finally given up, and closed your eyes, hoping the ache that was in your core would dissipate. There was quite literally nothing you could do about it yourself, at least in the moment. So with your eyes squeezed shut and your head thrown up on the headrest you tried desperately to get the dirty thoughts about your close friend Harry Holland out of your head.

It probably would have worked too, until you felt his face nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His warm breath ghosting the skin of your neck, spreading goosebumps all through your skin and making that desperate ache grow ten times. You couldn't take it anymore. With your thighs squeezed together, in hopes of any relief you let out a loud sigh. “Harrison, can we please stop at the next place with a restroom?” You asked, hoping that no one noticed the desperation in your tone. Harrison obliged, pulling into a nearly empty rest stop only a few miles further down.

As soon as Sam was out of your way you bee lined it towards the building, rushing to the bathroom like your life depended on it. You stood in the tidy restroom, with mirrors that barely offered a reflection. You splashed cold water on your face hoping the ache would disappear now that you weren't stuck to Harry.

Years upon years of knowing the Hollands, and since day one Harry had always tickled your fancy. The curly red hair, the humor the boy quite simply radiated, the warm kind eyes, and his smile. Oh his smile. This road trip was supposed to be a fun experience, a vacation of sorts, but it just seemed to be a constant torture for you. The other boys sticking you with Harry every chance they got. You were sure it was merely a coincidence, there was absolutely no way they knew about your crush. Right?

Last night though, had taken the cake. The hotel had only one room left and they had stuck you and Harry in one bed. You claimed it was no big deal, but in the middle of the night when he had unconsciously thrown his arm around your waist and pulled you into him, you were sure you were going to explode then and there. And the ache just seemed to keep growing.

The door opened causing you to jump. You looked over to see Harry walking in, weary of the fact that he was in the ladies room.

“What are you doing?” You asked him. The smirk that creeped up his lips let you know, he knew. He had to know. Why else would he follow you into a rest stop restroom?

“I was just worried about you, love,” his voice was low, deeper than usual, and you could feel your pussy clench at the sound of his voice.

“I'm alright,” You whispered. His eyebrows raised as he took another step towards you. You shivered as a million ways he could simply take you right now flashed through your mind.

“I've noticed the things you have been doing you know,” he smirked. Your eyes grew wide, not sure exactly what he meant. You have been doing an awful lot lately. “Every time i touch you, your thighs clench together, probably in hopes to relieve some of the pressure that has surely built up over the last few days,” the truth behind the things he said had your mouth hanging open, unaware of what to say to him. He closed the distance between the two of you arms boxing you in as you leaned against the wall in absolute complete shock.

“I-” You began to try and say anything but his finger pressed against your lips. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked over you, a fire in his eyes you had never seen before.

“Am I wrong?” He whispered as he brought his lips to your neck, leaving the softest kisses down from behind your ear to your shoulder. You let out a moan, as you felt yourself grow wetter. “Didn't think so,” Harry mumbled before bringing his lips to yours. The kiss started slowly, his lips familiarizing themselves with yours. Moving gently over yours, but soon it became deep and with intent, you could feel his hand traveling down your body stopping right before the pool that had accumulated in your underwear. This was it.

The car screeched to a halt and you could hear Tom cursing at the driver in front of you, you looked around shocked that you had fallen asleep. When did Tom and Harrison swap seats? More importantly, how long had you been asleep and how much of your dream had slipped from your unconscious lips. You were a sleep talker, like majorly, so the panic set in instantly, having just had a wet dream about the boy to your right.

Harrison noticed you had woken up first, turning around in his seat as much as he could to look at you. “Morning y/n, have a good sleep?” it didn't seem as there was any teasing behind his question so you were hopeful.

“S’allright. How long was i out?” you felt Harry's body move as if he was chuckling you turned to see a giant shit eating grin spread across his face. You felt your stomach twist. “What did I say?” you asked burying your face in your hands, you knew this could be bad.

“It's okay love, think only I heard,” Harry whispered.

“I heard,” Sam piped in.

“So did we,” Tom announced from the driver's seat. You groaned in embarrassment, why did you have to have a wet dream in a car with your closest friends.

“Was it bad?” you finally asked, peering through your fingers to see Harry's face. You could clearly tell he was holding back something.

“Oh Harry,” Tom mimicked your voice.

“Better than my dreams,” Harrison added.

“Soo soo good,” Sam chuckled.

This was it, the end of your life, this was by far the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened.

“Please don't stop Harry,” Harry whispered in your ear, eyebrows raised, obviously enjoying this. You were sure you were as red as a tomato at this point, your worst fears coming to life.

“Oh my god, you could have woken me up!” You shrieked, burying your face deeper into your hands.

“It seemed like a very good dream, didn't want to interrupt,” Harrison chuckled from in front of you.

You decided to keep your eyes closed for the next few hours, being sure not to fall asleep. When you finally arrived at the small cabin that had been rented for the night, prior to the trip you were relieved to be able to breath and stretch. You had stayed relatively quiet, you were absolutely mortified and you didn't want to become more embarrassed by anything you could say or do at this point.

“Y/N” Tom called. You turned your attention to him, not having heard what he had just said. “Only two rooms, so I'm going to have you bunk with Harry again. You don’t mind right?” He said the last part with a smirk and you knew instantly you would never live this down.

“Course she doesn't,” Harry chimed in, throwing his arm around your shoulder. saving you from having to respond in any way. You smiled up to him through your lashes, silently thanking him. He nodded at you and winked.

Your heart skipped a beat.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Sam whipped up a quick but delicious dinner before the five of you went to your sleeping areas. Tom and Harrison took the bunk room, Sam settled with the pullout bed, leaving you and Harry to share a full sized bed. It would be a snug night.

“You okay darling?” Harry asked as he settled into the bed next to you, you were trying to not let your mind wander. Sleep, you were going to just sleep tonight.

“Other than being mortified, I'm alright,” You mumbled as you rolled onto your side facing away from Harry.

“Because of your dream?” you felt him shuffling on the bed before his hand reached out gently resting on your hip. “You can't control the things your subconscious comes up with. Honestly it was flattering,”

“Seriously?” you asked, face deadpan. As you turned to look at him. He raised his eyebrows at you. “It wasn't my subconscious Harry, yes i happened to be asleep, but i have been having these thoughts for weeks. Imagining you stripping me naked and having your way with me. Every time you touch my leg, I hope your hand will travel between my thighs. I'm longing for you to scratch an itch I wasn't even aware I had,” you took a deep breath and then realized what you had just said. “You're my best friend, I'm not supposed to be thinking like this,” You went to turn back around, but Harry reached out grabbing your waist. Before you even had a second to respond you felt Harry's lips crash into yours. His fingers gripped onto your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you, you of course reciprocated, your hands rested on his chest as he pulled your body closer to his. His lips left yours causing a whimper to leave your mouth.

He moved his mouth to your neck, leaving soft kisses and light nibbles down the sensitive skin, till he reached your collar bone. He looked up at you, with lust filled eyes. “I haven't been able to get you off my mind,” He admitted shyly, returning his lips to yours. You smiled into his kiss.

“You're joking,” he took his bottom lip between his teeth while shaking his head. You were sure everything melted away at that moment. Your arms went around his neck as his arms went around your waist closing any distance that was between the two of you. The kisses became sloppy and hungry as Harry's hands slipped under your shirt. The feeling of his fingers on your bare skin sending a wave of excitement through your body. “Harry,” You moaned as his lips ghosted over the skin on your neck.

“Tell me what you want love,” his voice was deeper than normal, and filled with lust making you shiver.

“Touch me please,” You nearly begged him. He raised one eyebrow before letting his hand that he had moved to your cheek travel unimaginably slow down your body.

“Where do you want me to touch?” He asked you as his hand made its way to your breast, cupping it and feeling around over your shirt until he had the bead of your nipple between his fingers gently rolling it. You gasped at the sudden stimulation. He lifted your shirt replacing his fingers with his mouth letting his tongue roll it around while his hand glided down your stomach stopping just before the waistband of your pajama bottoms. “Can I?” he asked coyly.

“Please,” You let out as his hand slipped down past your pants and your undies. His fingers gently glided through your soaking folds, before finding your bundle and rubbing it lightly in a circular motion. You let out a moan at the action.

"Take it off for me," Harry said as he pulled his hand away from you.

You began to shake slightly your eyes shooting open, was this seriously happening a second time in the same day? You looked over to see Harry propped up on his elbow next to you, his features illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the curtains. His grin was undeniable.

“Please, i don't even want to know,” You groaned as you buried your face deep in the pillow.

“Oh but I want to know,” He said as he ran his fingers down your spine. “Please tell me what I am doing in your dreams to make you make those noises?”

You lifted your head, looking at him. You could tell him everything and maybe he would feel the same and actually act on your wild dreams, or you could pretend not to remember and hope this never happened again. He leaned in closer to you and his lips brushed against your earlobe. “Tell me how I'm making you moan like that in your pretty little head,” he whispered.

You let out a gasp, at his sudden close proximity to you. You could already feel the juices pooling in your panties.

“Well,” You gulped. “It usually starts with you kissing me,” His grin grew as he leaned in, letting his lips nearly touch yours. You were sure you were about to melt.

“Just like this?” he whispered, not actually connecting your lips.

“Y.y.yeah,” you stuttered out, your mind going wild at what was actually happening.

“And then?” he asked, licking his lips as he stared into your eyes.

“You move to my neck.” He moved his hand so it was on your neck, his fingers brushing up and down your skin.

“Kissing, sucking, or biting?” he asked. You nodded to him, unable to think about anything. He flashed you a smile before moving his lips down to your neck, barely kissing your skin.

“What's next?” he asked into your skin, not moving his lips from where they were peppering the most gentle kisses.

“Either you touch my boobs or go down lower, but then i always wake up,” you admitted, your voice breathy and uneven. Harry lifted his head from your neck with wide eyes.

“You're telling me that's as far as it goes and I have you making noises like that?” The shock on his face and in his voice was cute, and you couldn't help but giggle at him.

“Yes,” you said coyly, a serious blush spreading across your cheeks.

"How long have you been having these dreams y/n?" He asked you quietly. You felt your breath hitch and you didn't want to admit to him that this isn't a new thing, your attraction to him has been a thing for years. You shook your head, not wanting to answer the question. “How long?” he repeated.

“Months,” You whispered, barely audible, But by the cocky look on his face you could tell he had heard you loud and clear.

“And you have never said anything, because?” He asked as he placed his hand on your stomach slowly sliding it down.

“I didn't think it was appropriate,” You mumbled, as you watched his hand as it slipped between the hem of your pajamas and panties. You let out a gasp as his fingers slid up and down your panties.

"So wet, and for what? I haven't even done a thing," Harry teased. You couldn't believe this was happening, especially after the day you had. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement, but in this moment you could care less. "Tell me what you want me to do," he told you as he rubbed you over your panties.

"If we're being honest Harry, all I can think of is how you would feel inside of me," as soon as the words left your mouth you were shocked at yourself, unsure of what exactly had come over you.

"Let's find out then princess," he whispered as he grabbed your pants and panties and peeled them off your body. You felt exposed laying sans bottoms in front of Harry, your friend, who you had feelings for. He reached down, running a finger through your slick folds, and then bringing it up to his mouth. The motion alone was enough for you to nearly die, the idea of Harry tasting you was unbelievably hot, and judging by the obvious bulge in his pajama pants, he agreed.

You reached out to palm him through the fabric of his pants, and as soon as you made contact he let out a quiet groan before pushing you down onto the bed, and finally connecting your lips.

Kissing Harry was everything you expected and more, his lips were soft and gentle all while being rough and hungry for yours. He kissed you with such passion you were sure this had to be yet another dream. It wasn't until you managed to push his sweats halfway down his thigh, revealing his hard outline in his boxers that you were fully sure this was in fact happening.

He moved his lips from yours and down the entirety of your body, focusing a little on your breasts, being sure to pay each one the equal amount of attention, until finally making his way to right above your heat. This was always the part you would wake up, never having experienced Harry between your legs, tongue at work while his curls tickled the inside of your thighs, just the thought of wrapping your fingers in those unruly curls to hold him closer to you made your mouth salivate. When he finally dipped his head down, running his tongue all the way from your entrance to your clit you let out a loud moan, forgetting that the three others were only separated by thin walls. The noises you were making were like music to Harry's ears, telling him he was doing a perfect job, and once your fingers grasped at his hair and began to tug tightly he knew you couldn't get enough of his tongue. He moved his hand from where it had been resting on your knee, slid it up your thigh slowly until his fingers were able to tease your entrance while his tongue focused all on your sensitive nub, drawing circles and flicking it so perfect that once his finger went inside it only took you about two brushes against your g spot for you to completely let go, and Harry rode that shit out, not stopping his precise movements until your moaning and gasping had quieted a little.

He pulled away from you, face glistening in the moonlight with a mixture of your orgasm and his saliva, he wiped his face with the back of his hand before crawling over you, and kissing you again. This kiss was different, more soft and gentle, still with purpose but unlike the first it seemed rather intimate, Harry let his body sink down onto yours, his clothed bulge brushing your sensitive nub while he continued to kiss you.

"Harry," you moaned into his lips, as you hooked your fingers in the hem of his waistband.

"We'll get there baby," he said brushing a few loose strands of hair from your face. The unusual pet name towards you just made your want for him grow. Harry Holland was to good for this earth, too good for you, yet here he was, fueling your fan fiction fantasies, and he was doing it so well you could almost forget that once this was over, you would go back to just being friends, and nothing more. Cause if you were sure of one thing it was that despite your ever growing feelings for Harry, he was not one to develop feelings, in the years you had known him you had never seen him be in a relationship. Which made you think he just wasn't interested.

With his hips grinding against yours while the two of you kissed for what felt like forever you could feel the ache building back up, needing more of him, needing to feel him. He disconnected your lips, pushing himself onto his knees so he could pull his boxers down, his cock which was oh so yummy slapping up against his stomach before he grabbed it and pumped it a few times. "You sure?" He asked you. Eyes full of worry. Once you did this there was no going back, even though your heart would probably break knowing he would never be yours.

"Never been more sure of anything else," you told him. He flashed you his giant Harry smile before lining himself at your entrance, his cock teasing you as his eyes were focused on your face. He wanted to see your reaction to him, to see how he made you feel. He pushed in slowly, giving you ample time to stretch to his size, though with how aroused you were you didn't need all that much. When his hips were flush against yours he started to thrust in and out, slowly at first, bit then harder and faster, stroking your spot with every thrust. The noises coming from the two of you sounded like they were out of a porno, skin slapping against skin, moans escaping from your lips and groaning from him as he pounded into you. After a few minutes of that he brought his hand down between you, letting his fingers rub circles on your nub, it wouldn't take you long now.

"Harry, 'm Soo close," you moaned, your fingers digging into the skin on his back.

"Me to baby, me to," he mumbled as he sped up his rhythm. When the cord finally snapped you felt a wave wash over you, of complete and utter euphoria. You felt Harry twitch inside you before slowing his thrusts down and falling onto your body. Your pretty sure you blacked out for a bit after that, cause when you finally open your eyes, the sun is streaming through the curtains and you are snuggled up against Harry. For a second you're worried it was just a dream, until you notice you are both still sans clothes under the sheet.

"Morning," Harry mumbles, eyes still closed.

"Good morning," you say quietly, not sure what's going to happen from here.

"Last night was amazing," he says after a few excruciating seconds. You giggle and nod your head, afraid that your word will betray you. "I've been waiting for that for years," he adds. Your eyes grow wide as you prop yourself up to look at his face.

"What did you just say?" You demand. His eyes flutter open and look directly at you, a smile on his face.

"I have been waiting for that for years," he repeats matter of factly. He could see the shock written on your face, so he reached out to grab your hand, interlocking your fingers. "You didn't honestly think I didn't have feelings for you did you? Why do you think Tom and Haz were always forcing us to bunk together?" You think back to all the times where the other three boys would group you and Harry off, leaving the two of you alone, and suddenly it all makes sense.

"You like me?" You ask, a smile spreading on your face.

"Baby, I'd be crazy if I didn't," he whispers, leaning up to kiss your lips.

Right then the door flies open and an irritated Tom, Harrison, and Sam are stood in the doorway. You're fully aware of your naked state now, clutching the sheet to cover all the exposed parts of your body.

"You guys were SO loud last night," Harrison says looking back and forth between the two of you. You mumble a sorry, completely embarrassed, until Tom starts to laugh.

"It's about time," he says, walking over and patting Harry on the shoulder before the three of them disappear back into the main area of the cabin.

"Whoops," Harry laughs, placing a kiss on your temple. You look up at him and can't help but smile.

#harry holland smut #harry holland #harry robert holland #harry holland x y/n #harry holland one shot

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