#Is it amusing or am I losing my mind to sleep deprivation? We may never know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

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Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 8- Bottled Appetites

Summary: A peaceful day can turn sour so fast, but alas, it still never fails to bring you adventure. Whether you’re ready for it or not.

Warnings: Jaskier being stubit, blood, Geralt being a hottie, a bit of smut

Masterlist

Today couldn't be more beautiful, the sun is shining her grand radiance and the forest is full of life as you listen to the singing of birds from your comfortable spot on a large tree branch that's hanging over top of Geralt. He's currently focused intently on fishing out a djinn to hopefully cure his sleep apnea that's been really bothering him as of late. Well, that's at least the reasoning he's claimed.

You've tried to help him with herbs, potions, and more sensual physical activities. But nothing has appeared to work, so here he is, grumpier then usual as he throws a fishing net into the river in hopes that he'll snag himself a djinn in a bottle.

Laying your back against the long branch, one of your legs swings casually back and forth as you listen to your surroundings. Your stomach growls from lack of any sufficient food in the last two days when your ears suddenly hear the tell tale singing of a certain bard as he strolls through the woodland in search of his long time friends, "Cause you all know. That this bard. Loved ladies from Nilfgaard. 'Cause Nilfgaard can kiss my..." Sings the bard as he wanders down the trail until his eyes land on your Witcher, "Geralt! Hello. What's it been months? Years? What is time, anyway? I heard you and Y/N...wherever she is....were in town.' His voice is just as cheerful and upbeat as you'd remembered, "Are you following me, you scamp? I mean I'm flattered and everything, but I think that feisty lady of yours may start to get jealous." Rambles Jaskier as he takes out his flask.

He takes a small sip before offering it to Geralt, who ignores him, Jaskier shakes this off and keeps to his questioning when suddenly you drop down from seemingly out of nowhere. Doing a fantastic job at scaring the shit out of Jaskier in your abrupt arrival, he yelps before stumbling back a few feet. "Dear gods Y/N have you been just hanging around in the treetops like some type of...of..bat?" He stammers breathlessly, a hand over his thudding heart.

Smirking at him you throw him a quick wink, "Only for you my humble bard." He stands up straight as a light blush dusts his cheeks as you turn to follow Geralt down the side of the river path, while he searches for a better spot to catch this djinn, Jaskier trailing behind you both.

"Geralt, you're fantastic at a great many things, but clearly, fishing is not one of them. Have you caught anything today? What are you fishing for, exactly?" Intrudes Jaskier as Geralt fiddles with his netting while you lean against a tree, "Is it cod? Carp?" He looks to you for a second before his attentions back on Geralt, "Pike? Bream? I'm just....I'm just listing off fish that I know. Zander? Is that a fish?" Wonders the bard as he raises a brow at you.

You simply shrug, "He's not fishing, can't sleep." Jaskier nods, not sure what to do with that information.

"Right. Good. Well, that...makes sense. In so much that it sort of...doesn't." Frowns Jaskier as he suddenly looks a bit more worried, "What's going on Geralt, talk to me."

Geralt stops before letting out a tired sigh as he looks to Jaskier, "A djinn." Is all he admits before he's back to grappling with his net.

You watch as Jaskier's face scrunches up in deep confusion, "A what?"

"I'm looking for a djinn." Grumbles Geralt as the bards face looks even more puzzled then before.

Then all at once it seems that he's finally connected the dots, a smirk breaking upon his face as he sets his hands onto either hip, "For a dj....for a djinn? A dj...like a genie?" Laughs Jaskier as he wiggles his fingers in a playful manner, "The floaty fellas with the....the bad tempers and the banned magics, that kind of genie?"

Geralt stand up once again, a hard expression across his brow while Jaskier fails at concealing his laughter, "Yes. It'll grant me wishes. It's in this river somewhere. And I can't FUCKING SLEEP!" Snaps Geralt, golden eyes glowing even brighter as his anger boils over.

Geralt glances to you for a brief moment before turning and walking further down the river path, the bard follows suite as you trail behind them, amused at Jaskier's continuous rambling about his latest adventures and the possible reason why Geralt is so sleep deprived.

"Have you ever considered why you may be feeling this way hm, let's say...oh I don't know, we find the root of the problem. I mean, maybe, just maybe this whole sleeplessness-ness has got something to do with what the druid Mousesack said to you guys in Cintra? You know, the Law of Surprise? Destiny? Being unable to escape the child that belongs to you, et cetera, et cetera?" Inquires Jaskier as you watch Geralt prepare to throw in the net.

"No! Y/N was there too and she's fine....this is something else." Grumbles your Witcher as he throws his net into the waters below.

Jaskier looks from you to Geralt, hands on his hips the whole time, "Yeah, you're probably right. But what if you're not? You know, the Countess de Stael once said to me...that destiny is just the embodiment of the soul's desire to grow." Explains Jaskier he walks past you to sit down on a log.

A small laugh escapes from your lips as you turn to the bard, "Did you sing to her before she left?" You honestly couldn't help yourself, pushing Jaskier's buttons is just a solid talent of yours.

He looks out at the water, "I did, actually, and she.." His head quickly turns to you once he realizes what that comment suggested, "Why, what are you implying?" Wonders Jaskier as he tilts his head to you, a smirk breaks out upon your face as you then bite your lip to keep silent. He gets up from the log, an abashed expression crossing his features, "Oh, we are so having this conversation. Come on, Y/N. Geralt. Tell me. Be honest. How's my singing?"

You cross your arms over your chest while casually looking out at the river and pretend that he hasn't even said anything, although you're certain Geralt on the other hand will add his two cents. He tosses his net out into the water once again before turning to Jaskier, "It's like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling." Deadpans Geralt as you burst with laughter, Jaskier looking rather taken aback as his eyes go wide in surprise.

"You need a nap! I mean are you trying to hurt my feelings, Geralt? It's...it's down-downright indecorous of you, if I'm completely honest, and.." He quickly loses interest once Geralt unveils a bottle from his net, "Wow. Wow. What is...what is that?" Questions Jaskier as Geralt holds the djinn bottle in his muddy hands, you hover over his shoulder as you stare at the thing in amazement. It doesn't look like much but the wizards seal on the bottles cork is truly telling, too bad it doesn't have a three course meal inside.

"It's a wizards seal. The djinn." Geralt confirms softly as he studies the enchanted bottle until Jaskier suddenly grabs onto the bottles other handle.

"Do you mind if I...."

"Jaskier." Snaps Geralt as you stand back to watch, deciding it more entertaining if you don't intervene.

The bard points an accusing finger in his direction, "Take it back about my filling-less pie. Take it back, you get your djinny-djinn-djinn."

Rolling your crimson eyes you set a hand on your hip, "Let go Jask."

He turns to you with a fake sneer before snapping his attention back to your stoic Witcher, "No! No, you let go, you horse's arse!" Suddenly the bottle slips from Geralt's hand as he looks down at the cork in his fist, a confused expression on his handsome features as nothing appears to happen around either of them.

Jaskier studies the bottle in his hand, looking rather disappointed, "That's a bit of an anticlimax." He mutters dismally at the boring turn of events, although you can't help but notice as a soft supernatural whispering begins to make itself known to your hypersensitive ears, then right on cue does the wind begin to pick up, the woods feeling a bit darker as the clouds go grey up above, "Or is it?" He says excitedly as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, your nerves prick at the odd change in the atmosphere, "Shit." You mumble while Jaskier walks past Geralt, he gives you a sour look as you grimace in knowing annoyance.

Standing on the edge of the riverbank, Jaskier points to the sky, "Djinn, I have freed thee, and as of this day, I am thy lord. Firstly, may Valdo Marx the troubadour of Cidaris, be struck down with apoplexy and die. Secondly, the Countess de Stael must welcome me back with glee, open arms and very little clothing. Thirdly..." Geralt quickly pulls him back in an attempt to shut him up before something terrible happens to him.

"Jaskier! Stop. There are only three wishes." Warns Geralt as you stand next to him, the both of you staring the bard down like two disappointed parents.

"You're a fucking idiot, Jask." You add bluntly as he simply rolls his blue eyes, unbothered by this djinn considering his two friends are a Witcher and dhampire.

"Only three wishes!" Grumbles Geralt as Jaskier observes his agitated demeanor.

"Oh, come on, you got Y/N, she's quite literally the best thing that's ever happened to you...how was I to know you wanted three wishes all to yourself?" Shouts the bard over the loud enchanted winds that are rapidly starting to build, ones that are rocking the tree branches and leaves every which way, as well as your hair.

"I just want some damn peace!" Bellows Geralt in frustration.

"Well, here's your peace!" Snaps Jaskier before idiotically smashing the bottle upon the ground in a blind moment of irritation.

Geralt quickly squats down to pick up the broken shards as you reach down to do the same, while picking them up he accidentally cuts himself on a sharp edge. You can instantly smell the blood, and though you haven't given into darker temptations in a long while. You're rather hungry from lack of coin to pay for any such meals that would gladly satisfy you, and right now it feels too much.

Snapping away from Geralt, you stand to your full height as you finally notice how sickly peculiar Jaskier is starting to appear, "Uh Y/N.." Gasps the bard breathlessly as he holds a hand to his throat, "Y/N...it's the djinn!" Stammers Jaskier as he points towards the river, you snap your attention to find a wispy black and purple mass racing for the three of you over the water.

Your eyes go wide in startled bewilderment, "Geralt!" You shout just as he stands and uses his magic to propel the creature back where it decides to take off into the sky.

Your Witcher stares up at the horizon as you catch the enthralling scent of blood once more, god you should really have eaten some berries or at least stolen something earlier to avoid this terrible primal hunger. You look over to Jaskier who's not looking too hot, a tiny trail of blood seeps out of the side of his mouth, his neck forming an unnatural lump as he wheezes in pain.

Geralt snaps his golden eyes down to the panicking bard, "Jaskier." He speaks before Jask leans over, a ruby red spurt of blood bursting from out of his mouth as he tries to gasp for breath, "Y/N?" Pleads Geralt in hopes that you can help him somehow. Though you're certain that if you would get any closer, you may break and give into your deeper vampiric desires that you've held at bay for so long. The part of you that has forever kept yourself from ever truly feeling human.

Shaking your head you flicker your eyes over to him, "I...I can't....I'm too starved....I'm sorry." You breath out, taking a cautious step back, the scent of Jaskier's warm blood on the breeze is enough to make your mouth water.

He purses his lips together, knowing that you can't do much for the time being, "Fuck." Grumbles Geralt as he quickly picks up Jaskier before booking it down the trail for Roach.

——

You follow in the form of a pack of bats close behind your boys as Geralt leads Roach to a small camp in the woods. You watch as he yells in question for a doctor, Jaskier slumped to the side as he leans into Geralt's broad back. Quickly a soldier confirms that an elven healer is inside, you land on a large firm tree branch, turning back into your original form as you watch them scurry into the grand white tent.

You focus your hearing and learn that if Jaskier's wounds are not treated by proper magic remedies, then he will certainly die. A pang of worry strikes you at the thought of your bard gone, and you do feel quite terrible knowing that he's in so much pain. But to your great or at least somewhat relief does the elf give Jaskier a pain relieving liquid concoction, thus explaining that a malicious and cunning mage is imprisoned in the mayor's house in the next town over who could heal the bards wounds.

A prominent feeling of uneasiness and caution surges throughout you at the thought of meeting another mage after months of evading any at all. Soon enough they quickly exit the tent and find themselves upon Roach's back before they take off in the direction of the closest town. With a heavy sigh you jump from the tree, shifting into a pack of whimsical black bats as you fly after Geralt throughout the tree tops and evening sky.

You're flight feels short lived as a couple miles later does Geralt finally find the large brick house of the mayor, its a rather beautiful place positioned on the edge of a huge lake with woods comfortably surrounding it. Roach gallops onto the gravel road when suddenly a tough half bald bearded man walks up to them. He gives them a hard time before Geralt abruptly knocks him out with a sack of coins, much to your amusement.

He takes Roach to the stables as you fly downward towards the ground, just as Geralt walks out of the barn with Jaskier dangling over his shoulder, you hastily shift back into your more presentable self. He gives you a nod of acknowledgment before a stern and determined look appears onto his hard features as he practically strides towards the closest wooden door. You follow behind as you clench your fists together in an attempt at distracting yourself from your ever growing hunger, the blood seeping out of Jaskier's mouth smells sweet as fresh berries as it wafts into your nostrils.

He wheezes in pain with every step that Geralt takes down the wine filled hallway which is enough to keep yourself from doing anything you'll regret later. He walks through a doorway before gently setting Jaskier onto the kitchen table, you follow in after him, your crimson eyes going wide as they find a naked man holding a brown shiny jug. He stares in awe at the three of you just as he drops his jug onto the stone floor below.

What the fuck?

A large drunken half smile makes its way onto his face, "Velcome...to my vome." Cheerfully announces the grey haired naked man, his arms spread wide in greeting, other parts of him also hanging out to your great disgust.

"You're the Mayor of Rinde?" Wonders Geralt as he looks to Jaskier.

Looking anywhere but the man, you throw a hand up before resting it onto your hip, "Our day has already been weird enough, why not meet a naked man in his home to top it all off, huh?" You jest with a nervous laugh, almost certain that this fool has been enchanted. He has to be, right?

The bard makes more wheezing sounds as Geralt's brow furrows in worry, "Uh, it there a mage that lives here?" The naked man turns to something sitting near Jaskier as his face shifts to that of realization.

"Ah. De apple jvuce. She vants some. And she alvays gets...vhat she vants." Whispers the man with a telling nod, oh yes he is without a doubt under some type of spell.

Geralt turns a confused eye to you, "I don't understand. Does he want me to get him the apple juice?" You turn your eyes back to the man as he goes to sit down in a chair, you look back to Geralt with a shrug, "No idea? Let's just find this fucking mage." You grumble as Jaskier tries to nod.

Your Witcher grabs the apples juice and the scruff of the bards baby blue jacket as he goes to walk into the nearest doorway. You turn back to the naked potbellied man only to be greeted with his loud snores, shaking your head you amble after your boys. As you follow closely behind Geralt you look down to notice as a greenish mist cascades out from under the closed door. He quickly pulls it open as more billows out and into the hallway, there's nothing on the other side but an ascending staircase, to the left another closed doorway that seems to have even more of the mist coming from it.

It's strange, you can hear muffled moaning on the other side and the rapid beating of many loud heartbeats. Your questions are quickly answered as the two of them walk into the next open doorway only to stumble upon a massive orgy. You keep behind the wall as you crinkle your nose in disgust at the strong scent of sex, sweat, and perfume in the air, a less than pleased expression crossing your features at the sickening toxins.

One that most likely matches Geralt's if you didn't know any better. You listen closely as he walks through the moaning crowd before he plops Jaskier next to someone, you feel almost sick from lack of food and the smell of this place is just about driving you mad. But you can't face the mage, something just doesn't feel right.

You listen as he speaks to her, your heart falling into your throat as she replies back, that voice, you haven't heard that voice in decades. But how? How could she be here of all places to be? Shaking your thoughts from your mind you eves drop in on their conversation until she begins to give him a hard time about payment, sounding rather too sensual for your liking.

"It's spreading, fix it. And I'll pay you. Whatever the price." Mutters Geralt to the familiar mage as he looks up at her from his spot near the small stairway that she's standing on.

"You'll have to do better then juice." Answers the mage slyly as she contemplates this intriguing new proposition.

"Yennefer." She stops in her tracks, her body tense as realization crosses her masked face, "Don't be difficult." You add as Geralt steps to the side, a confused expression on his face as he looks from you to Yennefer and back to you again.

She takes a step down, a small smirk adoring her ruby red lips as she looks you over, "Now this...is a surprise, how long's it been? I honestly wasn't certain that our paths would ever cross again, I was almost hoping they wouldn't....but alas. Here you are....it's good to see you Y/N." She smiles, studying your bloodshot eyes due to your increase in hunger, she smiles, "You look, famished." Concludes the mage with a tilt of her head.

You slightly shrug, "What a kind way to say I look like I'm halfway into hell....now, save him before he bleeds anymore."

She smiles, looking down at the djinn's bottle cap, "As you command, princess Y/N." Quips Yennefer with a smirk as she looks around the room, "Ragamuffin!" And just like that the mass orgy stops, the participating villagers snapping back to reality in the process. They quickly scramble to cover themselves as Yennefer looks to the two of you, nodding for you three to follow her to where she can heal Jaskier.

——

After clearing out half the pantry and about two small bottles of wine, you're finally satiated and no more half starved. You casually sit on the kitchen table as Geralt stares at the floor in worry for the bard and in deep questioning thought about how the hell you know Yennefer. You could practically cut the tension with a knife, but then much to your relief she comes walking down the steps.

Calmly announcing that Jaskier is in a deep healing sleep, and that you both urgently need a bath, something you wholeheartedly agree on. She hands the both of you some clean clothes as she directs you into the direction of the bathhouse, going elsewhere to give you both some privacy.

You walk into the steamy warm room as Geralt shuts the door, locking it as you start to unlace your top, "Y/N how do you know..."

"Ask me when I'm in the bath, then I'll indulge you for some of my hidden past....dealings." You interrupt with the flash of a smile before throwing off your top and bra. You face away from him as you kick off your boots, quickly shimmying out of your dark pants and undergarments as you stand stark naked by the heated pool.

Turning a quick glance behind you, your eyes catch Geralt's as his golden irises trail down your body, he looks away as an embarrassed grin makes its way onto his handsome face. You smile to yourself, turning to lower your tired vessel into the steaming waters. Sighing in pleasure at how the bath feels blessedly nice after many moons of going without a proper clean.

You close your eyes as your sit peacefully by the waters edge, a smirk playing at your lips as Geralt's muscular body gets in after you. You listen intently as he lets himself enjoy the warmth before some water swishes and he's pressed firmly against your side. An arm draped over your shoulder as his other one leans against the cool stony edge, you can just tell that he's taking you all in even as his mind swirls with questions.

"Y/N? What did you get into before you met me....or I guess what type of trouble? Although I do happen to recall your hatred for wizards and mages alike." Mutters your Witcher as he looks down at your relaxed form, your body but a nude distortion under the clear waters of the pool.

Humming in acknowledgment, you open a scarlet eye to look up at him as you give him a small smile, you can tell that if it wasn't for how curious he is at the moment, he'd without a doubt be turning you into a moaning mess by the waters edge within minutes, "I know Yennefer because...I....well I was a type of courier in Aretuza for many years." His dark brows furrow in thought, not sure what you're getting at so you continue, "The mage academy, I traveled there because I searched for the aid of the mages, you see, I had found a farm girl who was bitten by a werewolf and survived. Her father said he would pay me if I delivered her into their care, double if they cured her."

His hand trails tiny patterns against your arm, "And what did you do?"

"I was able to save her life, we had a week before the next full moon and a mage there had the needed remedy to reverse the lycanthropy. After that, I stayed with her there as she recovered from the whole ordeal...considering the process of taking away ones curse is a painful one." You explain as he laces a hand with your own, invested in your story with every new word coming from your lips, "In my time, I investigated the grounds...I was only two-hundred something then...I wanted to see everything. So I did, in doing so, and yes I'm aware this is going to sound quite unlike myself...but, I made a friend."

He hums, squeezing your arm gently in reply, "Her name was Tissaia de Vries, though that hardly matters now it's been so long, anyways....she appeared to like me well enough, I needed a place to cover myself from the rain, and coin to keep me alive and she knew what I was useful for. I basically became a raven, I would take precious letters, scrolls, or artifacts from Aretuza to wherever needed and vise versa. It was safer that way, no one would dare fuck with a dhampir of all travelers, and the ones who did promptly regretted it...and I got to live in the academy for free. It was perfect."

"When did you meet Yennefer?"

"Sometime after a good many years as a courier slash traveling body guard for high end royals who payed well, Tissaia had just brought her to Aretuza for the first time and while walking near her room I could smell the blood pouring out of her slashed wrists, the fool was trying to kill herself." He glances down at you, more intrigued then ever.

(Cue flashback)

"Check on piglet would you Y/N, I'll be gathering the girls for their first lesson shortly in the greenhouse. Make sure she's up." Says Tissaia as she writes something down on a piece of parchment with her quill.

Setting down some type of golden box onto one of her many counters you turn to her, "The little bird seems hardly mage material if I'm being honest....she's afraid, nervous, and ridiculously troubled...not to mention that hunched back of hers, poor things truly had it rough, now things only feel worse to her. You really know how to pick'em don't you?" You muse with a smirk as she continues to write, "Doesn't matter, everyone starts somewhere. I'll go find her, doubt she's decided to venture very far." You add before walking out the doorway and into the stony halls of the enchanted academy.

You pass by a couple mages here and there as you find your way to the novice's rooms in the lower section of the giant castle, you suddenly stop as you've successfully made it to her door. Not caring enough to knock, you swing it open as you find the sad hunchbacked girl, who's sniffling pathetically in her creaky bed, "Greetings little bird, how was your sleep?" Your voice is lively as you smile down in her direction while more dismal sniffles sound, a small half-frown graces your features as you cross your arms over your chest, "Can't say very well considering you've lost a good amount of blood, which I might add is not ideal for your first day of lessons or in general if we're being honest. You're seriously lucky I wasn't starving when I found you."

She sighs, "I don't want to do any lessons. Just leave me. You should have just let me die...at least I still had control over that." She whispers sadly, her back is still turned to you as you take another step closer.

Lightly chuckling, she turns to you, a harsh glare crossing her puffy features as you scoff, "That's hilarious. You really think that you had control? You didn't have shit little bird....you didn't have control, you were losing it." Her crooked face morphs into a frustrated glare as she thinks over your words, you simply shrug, "Now, you've survived and are very much alive whether you like it or not, it's close to the hour for your first lessons as a real mage in training, important shit for your kind. So get up little bird, it's time to fly."

She sniffles once more before giving you a downcast expression, "I can't."

Touching her shoulder in as comforting of a manner as you can muster you smile kindly down at her, "Listen, you can either let the world fuck you like a cheap whore, or you can become a dragon who does whatever the hell they please. Which is it my crooked friend? Who are you going to become?"

Slowly sitting up onto the edge of her bed, she rubs her nose, the tiniest bit of confidence flashing through her purple eyes, "A dragon." She whispers softly, a small spark of life coursing through her once again.

(End flashback)

"I had no idea, this whole time." Whispers Geralt.

You gently nudge his bare shoulder, "Yeah well you never exactly asked, and I didn't feel it important because it isn't or I guess wasn't....that is, until we happened to meet her this evening. Weirder circumstances have be felled us."

"That is true, its just, you were actual friends with mages." Says Geralt like its the most surprising thing in the world, "Now I understand how you knew Mousesack. I had always wondered about that."

"Hmm. Right, well you see and meet a lot of different people when you can't age. He's gotten greyer since the last time, Yennefer however, she still looks the same."

Geralt squeezes your hand, "And you, look even more radiant."

He looks down at you once more, the flash of something new and intriguing shinning bright in his golden eyes as they trail up and down your body. You smirk, pulling his arm from you as you position yourself in front of him, reaching your arms out to push his thighs apart. He eyes you up the whole time, hardness beginning to grow underneath the waters as you touch his shoulders, lining yourself up against him, ready to claim him completely, by just inches.

You softly kiss him, "Fuck me so that damn witch knows exactly who you belong to." His hands trail up to your sides as he pushes you down on his erect member, a low hum escaping your lips at the contact, his fullness pleasantly stretching your walls from within the steamy waters.

Geralt kisses you once more, another upon your neck as he smiles, "Such a compelling offer..." His words evade him as a moan leaves from his parted lips as you begin to ride him, the pools water swishing as you bounce. The next twenty minutes are spent fucking each other until you're one-hundred percent positive that Yennefer could hear every scream and thrust.

Just as you'd intended.

——

You stand at the foot of Jaskier's extravagant bed as Yennefer watches from the doorframe, Geralt near his side as the bard sleeps peacefully away his troubles and malevolent enchantment. Geralt looks on at him, a distraught expression crossing over his features as Yennefer asks if he doubts her capabilities. He grumbles a truthful no, as his only cause of worry is that if Jaskier never wakes up he'll feel terrible for the unkind words that were said to him before all this mess happened.

She smiles when he grumbles about her actual intentions, she simply walks past you over to her table of spices and herbs, but before she can get to it Geralt makes note of how the sign from the djinn's seal is marked upon the floor with candle wax. Her face falters as she realizes that she's been found out, you had figured something was up the moment you stepped into the room and saw it near the end of the large bed.

Leaning yourself against one of the bed posts, you listen as Geralt declares that he's going to take Jaskier now to prevent Yennefer from summoning the djinn, she smartly explains that if he does, then the spell won't take. So you're all essentially stuck until Jaskier is healed, whenever that may be. She turns to open a tiny bottle of oil on her stand, nonchalantly rubbing it into the skin of her wrist as she magically sets the summoning circle candles on fire, an enchanted burst of wind sending the drapes of the bed flying and flapping into the air, your hair as well.

This doesn't sit right with your Witcher at all, especially when she asks how many wishes he has made, Geralt doesn't give her a direct answer until he lets slip that Jask has only used two wishes. Her face perks up at this news, she gives you a mischievous wink before walking over to Geralt, who looks like something strange is happening to him.

You can smell the scent of lilac and gooseberries wafting throughout the room as she walks closer to him, "Tough to get in your head. You have a strong will, but you can't contend with me." You suddenly feel rather sleepy as Geralt looks down at her in anger, instead of helping him, you sit down on the bed and try your best to listen, "Sorry I couldn't be more direct, I knew you two would fight it. And I do love a good old-fashioned trap." She muses as your eyelids begins to grow heavy, a yawn leaving your mouth as you rest a hand against the soft inviting mattress.

So soft, so tired, how'd you get so sleepy?

Against everything in you that's screaming for you to stay awake to stop Yennefer, you feel utterly relaxed, so much so that instead of helping Geralt to stay conscious. You lay yourself on the giant bed, you blearily stare up at the dark wooden ceiling in false content, everything feels so warm and lovely. The room swirls and shifts as you tiredly close your crimson eyes, the sweet enchanting scent of lilac lulling you into a deep and blissful slumber.

Breathing in sharply, you stretch in the soft bed as your eyes finally open to the morning light pouring out from the two giant glass windows on either side of the bed. You're laying on your left side so as you focus better, you're surprised to find Jaskier laying on his back next to you. This is definitely not Geralt, so how did you get here?

Oh right, Yennefer.

Quickly sitting yourself up you look to the end of the bed where Yennefer is sitting, topless as she rubs something onto her bare abdomen. Your brows furrow as you stare at her back, "What the fuck are you doing?" You question, no heat really in your words, you're honestly more confused then anything at the moment.

Without looking at you she starts, "I need the djinn Y/N, this is how I intend to take it."

Sliding off of the side of the bed, you walk around so that you can lean against the wooden beam to see what she's getting at, "That's rather vague Yenn, but if I was to make an educated guess from my clever sleuthing, or just general understanding of how that clapping monkey of a brain works. I'd say you're trying to summon the fucker so your last wish may be for a child in your womb. Nice tattoo by the way, very original." You nod to the dark colored insignia on her lower abdomen in the shape of the female reproductive system, who would have guessed she was such as artist.

She glances at you for a second, anger slowly building in her chest, "How very clever indeed Y/N, even in old age does your mind stay as sharp as a tack." Her tone is bluntly sarcastic, but you stay unaltered by her jest.

You tilt your head at her, "Djinn's are finicky creatures, I wouldn't try and do exactly what I think you're going to do."

"And what is that?" She snaps, her eyes focused ahead.

Rolling your eyes you let out an irritated huff of air, "Become the djinn's physical vessel, its suicide...and you know it. Even the most powerful of mages cannot harness the true strength and imperium of the djinn, what would compel you to attempt this? What will having a child gain you, in this world of all places?"

She doesn't have time to answer as Jaskier suddenly wakes up with a start, he pushes himself up into a sitting position as he squints from the bright light of the room, "Oh, uh...where am I?" His eyes quickly land on the bare back of Yennefer since he can't see you from behind the thick pulled back curtain, "Whew! Uh...Right. Good. Good. Uh...Not to be untoward or anything...but, did we...you know, do the uh..." She slowly covers her bare torso and chest with her thin golden white top as she turns around to face him and crawl upon the bed, "Ooh, Go...Oh, no! No! Definitely did not butter that biscuit." Rushes Jaskier as he scrambles to get off, you watch as he shuffles past you, his eyes going wide in puzzlement, "Oh hello there Y/N, nice morning huh....oh shit, uh...look lady I'm so sorry, but I've just remembered I left my...cat, on the, stove."

He walks backwards as Yennefer continues her stalk towards him, "I...I uh, we really must going, isn't that right Y/N!" He exclaims as he quickly bends down to put on his shoes. You're not entirely sure how to handle this situation if you're being totally honest, you're not exactly one to stop people from living their dreams, especially if it's Yennefer doing something stupid and you also rather enjoy watching Jaskier piss himself.

Her eyes darken, "Express your deepest desires and you can be on your way." She asserts as her hand picks up a knife from her drawer.

"Well, my deepest desires are currently satisfied, thank you so much." Sputters Jaskier as Yennefer uses her power to slam him against the nearby wall.

"Is this really necessary?" You remark as she focuses on the bard.

"Yes." Is all that comes forth from her lips as she goes to threaten Jaskier, "How's your throat?"

"Uh.." Jaskier gives you a nervous glance before snapping back to the approaching mage.

Smiling wickedly she takes another step closer, "Perhaps you should try some scales."

Jaskier flinches back as the mage grabs a hold of him, "Uh...Toss a coin to your Witcher. O, valley of...penis. Oh, God." He stammers as Yenn grabs his junk in one hand and presses a knife against his throat in the other.

"If you want to keep all you have...make a damn wish." She threatens with malice, Jaskier breathing heavily in fear, he doesn't say anything as he throws pleading eyes your way. Scoffing she lets go of him and instead walks over to kneel down at the circle of burning candles, "Make a damn wish! Do it now!" Shouts the insane witch, an enchanted breeze finding its way into the room even with lack of opened windows.

Jaskier slides down the wall as he looks to you who only shrugs in reply, this is his problem now. He shifts his attention back to the mage, "I don't...I don't know! I wish very badly to leave this place forever!" Cries Jaskier as Yennefer gasps, her breathing going deeper as she begins to chant something in Eldar. The room instantly fills with winds, papers flying across the room at the intrusion.

Holding tightly onto the shaking wooden beam of the bed you glance from Jaskier to Yennefer, "You're fucking crazy Yennefer! This is madness!" She all but ignores you, her chanting getting louder and louder as the magical winds send your hair flying in all directions, "Fuck. Jaskier get out of here while you can, the djinn is close I can feel it!" You scream above the noise, he quickly nods before jumping to his feet and racing out the opened door.

You turn a worried face to Yennefer, "I'm not sure about you but, lets not invite a fucking genie into this place! You don't even own it! And stop speaking Eldar before this dark fucker possesses you!" She doesn't even give you a glance, as right on cue does the black wispy shadow of the djinn seep into the room and hastily flow into her body.

Your eyes go wide at the abrupt turn of events, "Fine. I'll save you myself, fucking mages." You mutter before taking a step forward, in an instant her eyes shoot open to reveal a sickly pink covering the entirety of her whole eyeball, she shoots up a hand and before you have a chance to do anything. Your whole body is thrown back into the hard glass window and straight out into the misty morning air as you free fall towards the grassy courtyard below.

Taken off guard but anticipating the nearing ground, you quickly stop yourself and levitate mere inches from the earth. You lower your feet onto the grass, an annoyed sigh leaving your lips as you pick some glass shards out of your arms and pant legs. You stand in the morning light beginning to rethink your life choices when pained screams are heard from up above, it's Yennefer, she's screaming at Geralt to make a wish so she can finally have all the power. Clearly things are not going well by any means, so instead of leaving her to an inevitable demise like how you'd planned, you fly back up to the broken window and right into the windy chaotic mess of a room.

A pillow nearly misses your head when you arrive just as the djinn screams for Geralt to use his wish on anything that he so desires. You jog over to the circle of candles as his golden eyes find yours, "Just make a fucking wish!" You shout before the djinn compels Yennefer to throw you against the far wall in an act of mindless rage. You're back hits the wood first, your head cracking against it with a thud, ouch.

You fall to the messy floor in a daze, a single trickle of blood falling down the side of your temple as you stand to slowly regain your bearings once again. Although when you look up, it appears that Geralt has spoken his last wish, the wind has dissipated and Yennefer seems to have come around to her mostly normal self.

Breathing heavily from her spot on the floor she turns to you, "Is it over?" She whispers tiredly, "Is it done?"

Sensing movement from the attic you zero in on the noise, "Oh fuck it's still here!" You bellow before the ceiling crumbles and cracks open, wood, stone, metal and whatever else bursting through as the djinn destroys the roof. Your eyes go wide as a large piece of wood breaks away, heading straight for Yennefer, more chunks racing down for Geralt as well.

In a blur you're able to save them both from a suddenly violent death as you rest them against the floor away from the destructive mess happening near the bed and windows. Geralt sits up and scoots back as you rest your old friend upon a soft red and gold pillow, she's asleep from the quick rushed movement you'd just subjected her to. You're going to have to remember that not everyone is very fond of whiplash.

Leaning over her, you lightly shake her arm, "Yennefer. It's me, Y/N. Wake up idiot." Her lavender irises slowly flicker open as you sit back, a sigh of relief leaving your parted lips as you turn to make sure Geralt's alright. He's already asleep on another large blue pillow, so much for the mighty Witcher.

"Wha...what?" She mumbles softly before her eyes open wider in realization, "Y/N why did you stop me! I nearly had it, I was so close and you ruined it, why di..."

Your brows furrow in confusion at her needless outburst, "You had shit, I saved your life! You ungrateful..."

"Oh, well I saved that fucking bard's life and your precious Witcher's...but now he's let the djinn escape! Who knows what havoc it'll wreak now that it has no vessel at all?" She fumes, glaring at you angrily.

Rolling your scarlet eyes at her frustration, you sit down on the carpeted floor, "No more havoc then you. Djinns are only dark creatures when held captive."

"How can you be so sure?" She snaps.

You raise an eyebrow at her, "When did you last feel happy when you felt trapped? And besides, if you were going to portal us to safety, you could have taken us out of this shit town!"

Yennefer huffs in annoyance, "A fine critique if you could make a portal yourself. Or better yet, turn into a giant bat and fly us away from here...and it wasn't a shit town, it was fine till you and your two incompetent imbeciles came along. I had a plan!" She exclaims pointedly as you begin to chuckle.

Her glare hard pressed as you smirk, "And that was going rather swimmingly!"

"It was!" Snaps Yennefer, "Like a drowning fish." She looks to you with angry eyes, her fire slowly brimming as a smile breaks out onto her face.

"More like a dead and dry one." You muse with a laugh as you frown, "oh gods look at us, how'd we ever get here huh....from Aretuza to the destroyed aftermath of a fucking djinn."

Her face falters for a moment as she thinks over your words, "Who can say? Bad choices perhaps, maybe we do it to ourselves for the fun of it."

"Maybe you're just a thrill seeker." She gives you a half offended glare as you simply stick your tongue out at her, "But we've survived nonetheless, I'll take that as a promising sign for the time being."

"I guess that means something then." She looks down to her hands, a downcast expression crossing her sweaty features, "I am glad to have seen you again in all honesty, it's just been a very long while since I've seen anyone familiar." Admits the violet eyed mage.

You shrug, "Or tolerable?"

"Yes, or tolerable. My life at court was...almost all for naught, I feel like I didn't do anything worth my time there....even got a knife through my shoulder when the Queen I was accompanying was killed by an assassin. I was done." She explains with a frown, you can tell something else about it bothers her, but you'd rather not press your curiosity.

"The things I miss when I'm elsewhere. Who needs a life at court anyway...I on the other hand was never meant to rule a castle. Perhaps it's a good thing my mother won't ever age, or die. And I have my freedom to roam the Continent as I please, a free woman bound by nothing but what I choose, and so I have." She gives you a downcast smile.

"I almost envy you Y/N. Truly. Now if only I could know what your Witcher happened to have wished for, but I'd rather not wake him. He almost looks peaceful in a sleeping bear kind of way." She adds while looking behind you at a snoozing Geralt, his chest slowly rising and falling with each soft breath.

You turn a loving gaze upon him, "Guess he does, doesn't he? Like a grimy sweaty mess of a man...my big grumpy bear." You muse, your eyes studying his face lovingly as a sudden idea comes to mind, you turn back to Yennefer with a mischievous smirk, "You know what, the bards recently single..."

Her face is almost a grimace as she shakes her head, "I'll take my chances elsewhere. But thank you Y/N, always watching out for me, usually pretty shit advice most often." She jests while rising to her feet, "I must be off before the town comes for my head, see you around...hopefully under better circumstances and with less destructive endings." You stand to your full height, a couple inches taller then Yennefer.

You both lean in for a parting hug, "Goodbye, Yennefer." Letting go of one another she hands you a small smile, "Try not to get killed Y/N."

"You. Try not to get involved with, well, you know." She nods before turning around and opening up a portal to some sunny ocean side market, you watch as she walks through it without another word, and off into the unknown she goes.

Yawning and feeling slightly off put from the whole ordeal, you turn to look over at Geralt, he's still out cold on the giant fluffy blue pillow. You smile adoringly at him before scooting yourself over, finally letting yourself rest near his peacefully sleeping form as you wait patiently for him to wake.

Tagged: @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #of monsters and men fic

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bulkyphrase · 3 years ago

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Everybody & the Avengers Team

I've got a new fic rec list for you!

The stories in the "X & the Avengers Team" tags focus on one person's relationship to the Avengers team as a whole. Courtesy of AO3's tag browse and Excel, here's a ranked list of the top 20 most popular pairings:

Tony Stark | 2470 total, 240 OTP

Peter Parker | 2255 total, 85 OTP

Steve Rogers | 602 total, 56 OTP

Loki | 387 total, 26 OTP

Natasha Romanov | 308 total, 35 OTP

Clint Barton | 268 total, 46 OTP

Bruce Banner | 244 total, 15 OTP

Thor | 209 total, 7 OTP

Avengers Team | 174 total, 24 OTP

James "Bucky" Barnes | 156 total, 7 OTP

Wanda Maximoff | 143 total, 4 OTP

Phil Coulson | 105 total, 9 OTP

Darcy Lewis | 91 total, 6 OTP

Matt Murdock | 60 total, 8 OTP

Sam Wilson | 53 total, 5 OTP

Nick Fury | 41 total, 5 OTP

Harry Potter | 40 total, 0 OTP

Pepper Potts | 31 total, 1 OTP

Vision | 29 total, 2 OTP

Stiles Stilinski | 25 total, 0 OTP

In chart form, if you like charts:

Notes:

The numbers after the names are the number of stories tagged with that ship. OTP means the number of stories where that is the only relationship tagged on the story. Numbers are accurate as of July 2021.

Story Recommendations

For your reading pleasure, included below is at least one fic rec for each pairing except the crossovers from non-Marvel fandoms (apologies to Mr. Potter & Mr. Stilinski). Most are gen fic, and even in the ones with a romantic pairing, romance is not the focus.

Tony Stark

As Subtle As Cognitive Recalibration by petroltogo (Teen, 8949) tumblr: @tonystarktogo

Standing inside his penthouse, listening to Rogers, Barton and Banner explain to Fury how they just happened to stumble over the Tesseract on a routine security check of Stark Tower’s roof and wouldn’t you know, they’ve managed to fight off the looming alien invasion before it could really start and secure the missing overpowered nightlight is one of the most surreal situations Tony has ever had the displeasure of experiencing.

Peter Parker

the worst field trip ever by shrill_fangirl_screaming (Teen, 3420) tumblr: @i-am-having-an-emotion

"We're on a field trip," Peter said. "To here. And Tony decided to be our tour guide and absolutely embarrass me, so can you please help get him under control?"

Which is how Peter Parker, architect of his own destruction, ended up with not one but two superhero pseudo-dads being annoying on his school field trip.

Steve Rogers

Do You Remember Being Happy? ('Cause I Sure Don't) by GalaxyThreads (Teen, 11022) tumblr: @galaxythreads

That seems about right. He doesn't know how he knows that, though. He does have vague memories of an annoyed fondness at finding peanut butter in some sort of jam. Thor's doing, because he doesn't see the point of using two knives when one works just as fine. He knows that. How does he know that? He knows all those little details, though, almost innately. How can he know these strangers so deeply?

Everyone else below the cut!

Loki

Proprietary by TheThirdMarauder (Teen, 7639)

No, Loki simply wants the Avengers conquered. The details of whom, how, and when matter not. Unless, of course, said details interfere with Loki's plans. Then, well, then none can fault him for protecting his own interests.

Loki has always been exceptionally good at lying to himself.

Natasha Romanov

What Girls Are Made Of by enigma731 (Teen, 4613) tumblr: @enigma731

She rolls her eyes but does as he’s indicated, using his shoulders to leverage herself up onto his back, her arms around his neck and her legs hugging his waist.

“You know,” he says blithely, “this isn’t really what I tend to picture when I think of a hot girl riding me.”

Natasha groans, deciding that if his sense of humor gets them arrested, she’ll kill him herself. “Just go.”

Clint Barton

Dear Clint Barton (circa age 7) by pollyrepeat (Teen, 4221)

With a normal person, this might count as blackmail material, but a) this is a case of mutually assured destruction if ever there was one, and b) Fury is immune to embarrassment. Not just in the regular, Tony Stark way, either, oh no. Things that could possibly end up being embarrassing to Fury get somehow warped and changed until they go from mortifying all the way over into useful and/or good for his image. It’s like a superpower.

Carrying Clint’s small child self around on his shoulders more than once has probably already hit the interagency rumour mill as an example of Fury’s innate awesomeness: good with rocket launchers and small children.

Also available as a podfic!

Bruce Banner

They're Not Wrong by Trumpeteer34 (Teen, 10163)

As Tony began to pace around the hole in the road to keep himself from shooting repulsors at the nearby buildings in a fit of rage, Thor began to study the nearby area. There was no sign of either the Hulk or Bruce Banner beyond the crater. The surrounding area, aside from the rubble of the fight, held no clue as to their friend’s location.

“Guys, he’s gone,” Tony growled into the communicator on their private line, drawing Thor out of his darkening thoughts. “Someone tranqed him and took him. He’s gone.”

Honorary mention goes to the Responsible Science series by @letteredlettered - the stories don’t have the "Avengers Team & Bruce Banner" tag, but they could, and they are amazing. The best Bruce Banner writing I've ever come across.

Thor

Fortunately, I Am Mighty by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 3062)

Steve was the first one to speak. “Are you okay?”

Thor nodded. Which was a bad idea, as it turned out, because now there were little gray lights flashing in front of his eyes. “I’m fine.” Absolutely everyone narrowed their eyes, and he added, “But, uh. Could we possibly not get back in the car just yet?”

Avengers Team

Civil Wasn't by onward_came_the_meteors (General, 7123)

"We're having an ideological conflict here," Tony stated with disbelief. "Are you telling me you still want to go out to dinner?"

"It's a standing engagement, Tony," Rhodey reminded him.

"Not you too—"

"We already had to reschedule from Friday when Natasha was..." Rhodey frowned. "What were you doing?"

The question was directed toward Natasha, who shrugged and said, "Spy stuff."

James "Bucky" Barnes

You Know How I Feel, aka, The Adventures of Bucky and Muffy the Dinosaur by ifeelbetter (Not Rated, 4511) tumblr: @ifeelbetterer

“As you may have heard, Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. The Winter Soldier, recently rescued a tiny part-robot dinosaur during the Avengers’ battle with Dr. Doom in Antarctica,” the other newscaster explained. “Pictures of Barnes and the dinosaur were posted on twitter by fellow Avenger, Clint Barton, a.k.a. Hawkeye, and immediately made Barnes’s new pet America’s sweetheart.”

“Her name’s Muffy,” said Steve."

Wanda Maximoff

and the woman was young again by Mira_Jade (General, 3669)

Tony Stark called them the Cap's Kooky Quintet, and sometimes the term amused her – causing her to lift a sardonic brow where someday a smile would truly smile. She enjoyed the presence of comrades – true comrades – and she enjoyed the way their minds wove and bound together about each other to fluctuate against her senses as one. There was something soothing about being in their midst, and even when their loud and brash ways – their painful Americaness - rubbed her raw and drained on her, it was ever the knitting of their minds that soothed those moments over, and made them inconsequential.

Phil Coulson

Coulson's First Day of School by storiesfortravellers (Teen, 3055)

Coulson looked up at him. “I like drawing pictures with Mr. Rogers. I like having tea parties with Ms. Potts. I like it when Dr. Banner reads me books, and I like it when Natasha teaches me things. And I like when you play with me. You do really good voices when we play action figures. And you’re the only one who lets me do stuff like jump off the high diving board at the pool or eat three cupcakes or play tackle with kids at the park.”

Clint didn’t realize that. He was pretty sure that meant that he was doing something wrong.

Darcy Lewis

Beginner Yoga for Dummies (Darcys) and Sad Hobos by chailover (Teen, 3434)

Darcy had a theory: crazy attracted crazy, working kind of like gravity. It was pretty much her explanation for her life after Thor. And if she had thought the type of crazy Thor attracted was bad, be it Loki or the Warrior Three and Sif, or the dark elves and the Convergence, it was still nothing against what the Avengers manage en masse.

Matt Murdock

Double Blind by smilebackwards (Teen, 2381) tumblr: @smilebackwards

Stark snaps his fingers. “You can’t see half of my inventions. This explains so much about you and why you’ve never been properly impressed by me.”

“Does it?” Matt says, ambiguously.

Sam Wilson

Bystander by scribblemetimbers (Teen, 52029)

“I just want you to know,” Sam says loudly, cautiously raising his hands, “That I’m very poor and very sleep-deprived and literally the only thing you can kill me for right now are my notes.” He pauses. Wait. On second thought: “Please don’t steal my notes.”

“I’m not—I’m not a mugger,” Not Mugger rasps out, and for all that he looks about to keel over and die, the man actually manages to sound offended.

Nick Fury

Bedtime Story by dixiehellcat (Teen, 2532) tumblr: @deehellcat

Fury snorted. “I have to check in with the duty officer. I’ll be back in, let’s say twenty minutes. I expect all of you to have whatever your pre-bedtime routines are completed, and be in here pajama’ed and ready to be read to.”

He tapped the book under his arm, then left with the usual dramatic swish of his long coat. Bruce scratched his head. “Did…he just say be ready to be read to?”

Pepper Potts

Pepper and the Avengers (Which She Knows Nothing About) by rebelmeg (General, 6696) tumblr: @rebelmeg

The Avengers, that mismatched group of hurt and heroism, was one of the most important things in Tony Stark’s life. So, naturally, Pepper had made them an important part of her life too.

Vision

039. Intoxicated by aimmyarrowshigh (Teen, 100) tumblr: @aimmyarrowshigh

It might be nice to fit in, just this once. To lose a bit of composure.

Vision floated over to the refrigerator and, with some timidity, pulled off a magnet. He stuck it to his forehead.

#marvel fic rec

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malereader-inserts · 5 years ago

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Non Omis Moriar [2]

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Tony Stark & Son!Reader Summary: Not all of you shall die, so it’s all or none. Word Count: 3,762 A/n: ANGST ANGST, I hope this makes sense plot line. Also, I apologise for like basically writing the plot out again, you get the gist. Part one here!

“That’s not how time travel works,” You responded dryly.

Your eyes on your new suit as Scott tries to grab your attention, but you give him no consideration. He sighs as he watches you rewire your suit, stats on the screen for you.

“In Layman's terms, it means you're not coming home,” You continued as you sighed, put your tools down and looked at Scott.

“I did.”

“No, you accidentally survived. It's a billion to one cosmic fluke,” You responded, sighing, “Look, Scott, as much as I want to believe, this whole time heist is laughable, it’s a pipedream.”

“You have to be optimistic, (Y/n).”

You looked behind Scott and see Bruce, glowering over the two of you at the Avengers base, specifically in your dad’s lab. Bruce smiles at you as you shake your head, scoffing.

“Bruce, I’m not the one to preach about optimism, that’s Steve’s sort of rodeo but what have you been doing for the past year? You’ve lost to Thanos both times in both forms - look at you.”

“But, I’m willing to do something if it means we can save people, I know it’s not you or your thing to save people, but we’re the only people left. Remember what Natasha always says?”

“Whatever it takes.” Sighing, you shake your head, “I can’t, Bruce, I’m sorry.”

Bruce nods, leaving as Scott sends you one last look but as he watches you play with the screens of the stats of your suit - he leaves you be. A year had passed since the snap and all you’ve been doing is fixing Avengers’ equipment, updating the little things as you don’t have their suit.

Isolating yourself.

You made your own suit, the one you and your dad made was hard for you to work on because you made it with your dad. It’s didn’t feel right for you to work on something you and your dad made.

Within the year, you’ve been taking medication for sleep too. Nightmares of the time on Titans kept you all night and when you’re sleep deprived the voice and vision of your dad appears. No matter how much you want to see your dad, you were not going insane.

Within the year, the bond between you and Bruce had become strained, you don’t call him uncle anymore, not out of malice, but a family doesn’t seem complete anymore in your heart.

“I’m blaming Strange,” You muttered to yourself.

“Sir, you’re talking to yourself again.”

“It’s okay, Fri,” You reassured, smiling to yourself.

Friday has been ultra protective you, she may be an AI but in a sense, she was like your sister as Tony created her. Protecting her big brother from losing himself. Friday lost Tony, Pepper, Rhodey. She was not going to lose you in any circumstances.

“Hey, Fri?”

“Yes?”

“New project,” You called out as you watched Bruce and Scott figure something out across the building.

Glass walls work wonders, you move your suit to the side and Friday brings up a new slate of holograms for you to mess around.

“Hey, kid,” You hear your dad’s voice next to you, you could sense him probably leaning against the table to examine what you’re up to, “What are you doing?”

“Sir, what is this new project?”

You looked off to the distance as you smile to yourself, a mirror across the way. You looked at yourself and the hallucination of your dad next to you, you look too much alike. Same snarky smile of pure happiness and a confident stance.

“Thanos knows Stark men, he invaded my dreams since I was a child and corrupted my dad’s mind, if Strange says I’m needed then I’ll damn well avenge my father.”

“Hey,”

You jumped at the sudden voice of your dad in your ear, rubbing your eyes out of sleep as you realised that you’ve been sleeping in the lab,

“What day is it?”

“You’ve been passed out for two days sir, you fell asleep the moment you sat down, you haven’t even started your new project.”

“Way for a dramatic flair,” You commented as the AI buzzed in amusement, “What’s going on with shorty and Professor Green?”

“I believe they are ninety per cent in finishing what you have called time-heist.”

You nodded, “I’ll start it after I get food.”

When you had returned back to base Bruce and Scott was nowhere to find as you sat down and got to work. You didn’t know how long you were in the lab for as you reclined in the chair, groaning, your head hurts.

“By the looks of Scott and Bruce out there, Scott turned into a baby?”

Friday didn’t respond as she pulls up the video of Scott and Bruce wild attempt of time travel, as you chuckle as they were entertaining, you shake your head. your shoulders tensing. Getting back to work into the nightfall.

“Look at a mod inspiration, let me see what check out. So, recommend one last sim before we pack it in for the night. This time, in the shape of a Mobius strip, inverted, please.

”Processing...”

Friday was processing as you wandered around the lab, kicking a soccer ball into the glass walls, you could hear your dad scowling at you for leaving ball prints on the clean glass.

“Give me that eigenvalue. That, particle factoring, and a spectral decomp. Gotta take a second.”

“Just a moment.”

“And don't worry if it doesn't pan out. I'm just kinda-” You were interrupted by Friday.

“Model rendered.”

In a complete shock of amazement, the render comes back as successful. You smacked the ball so hard into the glass that it bounced back into your face, but you didn’t care because you were too bewildered by this discovery.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” You breathed, then laughing in joy, opening the door of the lab, “Bruce, Scott!”

They peaked out, seeing a stupid grin on your face, Bruce couldn’t help but smile. It’s been a while since you smiled like that, it’s been a while since you got excited over something.

“Call Nebs, we’re doing a time heist...”

“Aw hell yeah!” Scott celebrated.

Bruce looks over to you, watching smile to yourself, you glanced up and did a small nod to his way.

“I’ll make suits, it’ll be the four of us and we need a test run, Scott, you’re up for it?”

“Hell yeah, I am,”

“Okay, so the "how" works. Now we gotta figure out the when and the where.” Bruce speaks as he looks at the three remaining people of heroes.

“That’s easy,” Bruce looks at you with a raised eyebrow, “With all data collected throughout the almost ten years you guys have been Avengers, it has the location of most Infinity stones.”

You looked at the blank face of the green giant, you scoffed as Bruce shakes his head, “I’m confused.”

“Am I seriously the only one who reads the paperwork after your missions and I’m not even part of the team, man.”

“Well... You and your dad are very much alike,” Bruce offers weakly as you pulled a face.

“Anyway...”

As you started your rambling with Bruce trying to write everything down despite Friday recalling your words and putting on the hologram, two stones were talked about by Nebula, after a short silence of awkwardness as she mentions that her sister was murdered by their dad, Thanos. You, Nebula, Bruce and Scott examine the screens.

The holograms displaying the different location, the Soul and Power stones in space in 2014. the Reality stone in Asgard, 2013; and the Space, Mind, and Time stones in New York City 2012.

“Bruce, Scott, you two will go to New York City, Nebula and I will go to Asgard and space,” You initiated s they all nodded.

You never thought you would come to a point that you were a leader, in fact, you hated taking responsibility, you hated leading stuff and people looking up to you for direction - it was too much greatness upon your shoulders in your eyes.

“Don’t fuck it up,” You narrowed your eyes, “I mean it-”

“Yes, sir-” Scott says as you looked at him weirdly, “I mean, Mr Stark, er, no, (Y/n).”

As you suit up, you stare at the old suit that you built with your dad, packing it up into a compressed case and held it together on the transporter. Nebula and Scott give you funny looks but you decided to ignore it.

“Alright, simple in and out mission,” you called out one last time, “Whatever it takes.”

“You know, to obtain the soul stone you have to sacrifice something, Nebula came back with you,” Bruce says as you looked at him annoyed as you tried to assemble a gauntlet.

“The suit, dad and I made together,” You responded, you shoulders deflating, “Technically, it’s last thing I have of him, not the lab, not his tools, not even Friday. Scrap metal of memories left of my dad. I have nothing left of him. I need my dad back, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Bruce nods, “Carol hasn’t responded to your messages.”

“It’s fine, I’ve been updating her anyway,”

“You talk to her?”

“She’s a good listener,” You shrugged your shoulder, “Even if I’m talking to her through a hologram. Now, uncle Bruce, silence would be nice.”

Bruce opened his mouth before shutting it closed when you give him a pointed look, you cast your eyes towards the gauntlet again as you picked up the stones gently. With nervous precision, you manipulate the machine and carefully places all six stones into the gauntlet.

“Alright, the glove is ready, the question is who will wear it and bring everyone back?” Bring the iron man like gauntlet out to show to Scott and Bruce, “Where’s Nebula?”

“Toilet?”

“Androids can go to the toilet?” You asked Scott, tilting your head at the man who answered your question.

“It’s 2019 man, anything is possible.”

You gave it some consideration as you agreed as you looked at the two men, you placed the gauntlet down on the table to suit up for any accident, your new suit is something you’ve been working on a few months, full of your ideas and ideas that you found from your dad’s blueprints of your old suit.

“I’ll do it,” Bruce calls out as Scott and you looked up at the half man half hulk, “But the radiation's mostly gamma,” He takes a good look at the gauntlet, “It's like...uh...I was made for this.”

You nod as you helped Bruce place the gauntlet on, watching the metal adjust to the size of his big hand. Scott and you took a few steps back as Bruce lets out a shaky breath.

“You remember... everyone Thanos snapped away a year ago and just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last year.”

“Got it.”

“Hey, Friday, do me a favour and activate dad’s Protocol 8,” You called out as the facility goes down into lockdown.

You bring your mask down of your metal suit as you watch Scott do the same thing. Bruce starts to bring his thoughts into what he wants, electricity running through, Bruce was grunting in pain. You wince to see him in pain.

“Uncle Bruce?”

“I’m good!” Bruce managed to spit out, “I’m okay!”

Bruce screams, fighting through the intense pain coursing through his body courtesy of the gauntlet, and manages to snap his fingers. He faints and the gauntlet slides off his arm. You kick the gauntlet away as you and Scott looked over the giant.

“Brucie?” You asked, your mask coming down as you cooled down his burnt arm.

“Did I do it?”

Scott looks outside, it was brighter and birds were chirping, Bruce managed to open his eyes and see your smiling face.

“The grass is always greener on the other side,” You say as Scott laughs, looking relieved.

You looked over to Scott with a smile, hoping you’ve completed what you wanted to do, hoping you have your dad back as you looked back at Banner, a smile had fallen off his lips. Looking up the skyline and seeing the Sanctuary II up in the sky and a single missile heading towards the base blowing away Scott away. Then a continuous array of missiles destroys the base completely.

“Sir?”

You groaned at the voice of Friday, you get up to your feet and see Thanos sitting by. You breathed heavily, your suit covered in ash and dirt.

“Bruce, Scott?” You called out to your comm, it felt funny for you to be participating in hero action as you were not a hero yourself.

“We have the gauntlet,” Scott calls out, he sounds drowned out, “We’re underground but we can make it out.”

“Keep that damn thing away from Thanos,” You growled.

Your suit whirling, tightening. You breathed heavily, it all or nothing. You started to make your way down there, Thanos smirking as he recognised you when he has been invading your dreams as a little boy.

“You could not live with your own failure. And where did that bring you? Back to me. I thought by eliminating half of life, the other half would thrive. But you’ve shown me that’s impossible. And as long as there are those that remember what was, there will always be those that are unable to accept what can be. They will resist.”

You rolled your eyes at his monologue, “Yeah, we’re all types of stubborn.”

“I'm thankful. Because now, I know what I must do.” He stands up, “I will shred this universe down to its last atom. And then...With the stones you've collected for me, create a new one. Teeming with life, but knows not what it has lost but only what it has been given. A grateful universe.”

You put your mask up as he placed his helmet on, “As long as I’m alive, I’ll be damned.”

“I’ve admired you, (Y/n) Stark, from your pretty little dreams, I find a lot of interesting information about you. You are courageous, I commend you for that. But, unfortunately, as much I would love to keep you around, I can’t have you stand in the way.”

“Tough.”

You weren’t a skilled fighter, but you knew the basic of the Iron Man suits. You were able to hold him back off, and in fact, you were surprising yourself in how well you were fighting a Titan.

Smacking you into debris as you stumble to stand up, using energy to blast Thanos before he gives you one last kick to the ground. Spitting blood into your suit as you pant, struggling to get onto your feet.

“In all my years of conquest...violence...slaughter... It was never personal. But I'll tell you now... what I'm about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet... I'm gonna enjoy it. Very, very much.”

Thanos’ entire army is summoned to the ground which includes the Children of Thanos, Chitauri, Outriders. Upon seeing the army descending on Earth, you straighten your back with a fierce determination, you allowed your suit to self-repair and stand against Thanos' giant army alone. Suddenly, a crackling comes in on his communicator.

AC/DC blaring in your ear.

“Hey, kid!”

You stopped, now is not the time to have a hallucination of your dad.

“Kid? You hear me? Sonny boy?” The playful tease of your dad called into your ear. “(Y/n), incoming!”

You pulled down your mask in confusion as you looked around, seeing a yellow portal open up at your left. Three members walk out with two flying above. The original team. Your dad landing on your right with Cap on your left. Natasha on Steve’s left whilst Thor stood on a rock behind you with Clint comes next to your dad.

Another portal opens up, three figures step through; Okoye, Shuri, and Black Panther, fully restored and ready to fight with Sam zooms in from above in his Falcon armour.

Dozens of more portals opening up all around the battlefield. Through one of these, we see Doctor Strange descend in. He is joined by Drax, Mantis, Star-Lord, and Spider-Man.

Everyone watches in confusion and awe as more and more heroes arrive from all corners of the universe, all backed up with forces of their own including Black Panther and his Wakandan army, Valkyrie and the Asgardians, Wong and the Masters of the Mystic Arts and several Ravager ships.

Amongst the throngs of heroes, we see Bucky, War Machine, Rocket, Groot, the Scarlet Witch, the Wasp, and Pepper Potts (clad in her own iron suit) arrive. Nearly every hero has magically been transported to the battlefield to face Thanos' hordes.

“Please, say I’m not hallucinating,” You muttered to yourself, but Tony puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re sane, (Y/n).”

You huffed out a burst of laughter, Tony smiles missing your smile and laughter, “Scott? Bruce?”

Giant-Man emerges from the rubble of the Avengers facility with Professor Hulk. The Avengers, Guardians, Wakandans, Asgardians, and Ravagers take up battle positions. The heroes standing across Thanos' forces.

“Your call, kid,” Steve says to you, patting your shoulder, he figured that you were taking lead.

You pulled your mask up, taking your stance as your side looking at the other side. Thanos makes a fist of fury, angry at the outcome. You saved people, you brought them back, you were not letting them go.

“Avengers Assemble!”

“That thing needs to go back where it belongs!” You shouted in the midst of the fighting, Scott had dropped the gauntlet and with Clint, “He might have broken the quantum tunnel but we need another time machine!”

“The van!” Scott calls out as your team hears you groan.

“Anyone see an ugly brown van anywhere?” You yelled, punching one enemy away from you.

Valkyrie answers back it’s whereabouts as Cint passed the gauntlet over to T’Challa, who was far quicker than Clint.

“Hey kid,” Tony greets, pausing in his fighting to lift his mask up, you do the same.

“Dad,” You breathed out, embracing him into a hug, “I’ve missed you,”

“I missed you too, bud,” Tony sighs happily, kissing your cheek, “I love you son.”

“I love you too dad.”

The gauntlet managed to get into Peter’s grasp as he flew on the back of Valkyrie's Pegasus. Wanda keeping Thanos preoccupied as the cannons of the ship starts aiming towards the battlefield before it all turned up to the sky.

“What’s going on?” Steve calls out.

“Friday, what are they firing at?” You hear your dad through the communication, as you paused your blasting, looking up to the sky.

“Something just entered the upper atmosphere,” Friday replied.

You smirked, “Hey Carol!”

Captain Marvel flies through the ship, and it results in an explosion and the ship crash-landing in the lake, she hovers over and waves at you.

“Hey, little guy,”

“We need an assist here, Carol!”

As Carol makes her way to the van, you, Tony and Peper form a hovering triangle, blasting in each angel as you spin in a circle, having your back faced to each other. You, Tony and Steve all head over to where Carol was. She flies through all of them easily and reaches Thanos. She keeps punching him, but he knocks her to the ground, wears the gauntlet and tries to snap. But Captain Marvel arises again and stops his fingers from snapping.

Thanos headbutts her, but it does nothing.

Thanos pulls the Power Stone out of the Gauntlet and uses it in his free hand to hit Captain Marvel away, then puts the stone back into the Gauntlet.

“(Y/n)!” You turn to see Strange with a questioning look, “You’re needed!”

Strange simply raise one finger, reminding you that the one win over Thanos he foresaw is now at risk. You breathed heavily, everything sounded muted out as you watch the team you grew up and admired struggle. You could hear in the background Steve shouting orders as well as your dad.

You just got your dad back, and yet you were easily going to make the decision that he will live. You nod and attack Thanos, pulling on the Gauntlet before Thanos punches you away.

“(Y/n)!” Tony shouts in desperation at the attack.

You were on your knees, back straight as you looked at the Titan King, “I am the new beginning.”

Thanos snaps his fingers, but nothing happens except a metallic "clink." He sees the Infinity Stones are missing. You have the stones on your own gauntlet, to Thanos' shock

“I think not.”

You snap your fingers with a loud "CLANG" and a blinding flash of white. Rocket fires at a Leviathan and before it devours him, it crumbles into ash. The Black Order starts crumbling to ash. T'Challa and Quill look around in surprise; Steve looks on in exhaustion, knowing that they won.

Thanos, in horror, looks around and sees his entire army disintegrate. He looks at Steve, who just stares at him. Thanos sits down and mourns before slowly being erased from existence himself.

Tony snaps his head over to you, your metal suit releases you from inside as you crumble down onto the floor.

“Kid? Buddy? (Y/n)?” Tony frantically calls out as he gets out of his own suit.

He runs up to you, pulling you into his arms. Your breathing is shallow and your right side is completely destroyed as he clutches you tight in desperation. Pepper, Rhodey and Peter all fly over to you.

“Come on, (Y/n), you’re gonna make it,” Tony’s voice cracked, crumbled, tears forming and staining his cheeks.

“My sweet boy,” Pepper coos, fixing your hair as tears were building up in everyone eyes.

Peter gasping, unable to breathe, he found a family, a brother who would tease him and love him no matter what, fading quickly. Rhodey looking at his godson, Tony was not a religious man but they all pray for a God now.

“I did....” You croaked out, you stare at your dad, “it for you, dad...”

“You’ve done me proud, you always make me proud,” Tony chokes, pulling you closer, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder, your face buried into his neck, “I love you.”

He could see your mouth move, but nothing seems to come out but he hears one last thing, Tony Stark breaks down. He gets you back, you did it for him, only for him to hear your last breath.

Not all of you shall die, Tony decides, your legacy will continue.

#tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark x male!reader #platonic #Avengers #avenger imagines #avengers imagine #x male reader #angst

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askcarlyle · 6 years ago

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[A spontaneous thread (in conjunction with @askbarnum) originally written live on server last week.]

Barnum

Creeps into the office, a bundle of something wrapped in blankets against his chest. Clicking the door shut and jolting when he sees Phillip

You are in early this morning.

Carlyle

looks up from desk

Haven't been sleeping well lately. Gave up. Why did you order twenty pairs of miniature tap shoes?

Barnum

Shuffles over to his desk with the bundle, trying to look as unsuspicious as possible as he carefully shifts it into one arm and starts rummaging in his desk drawer with the other

Ah, new act. Thought I'd told you about it. Dancing penguins. Maybe it slipped my mind. What's been keeping you up? I don't snore, do I?

Carlyle

watches Barnum with mild curiosity

No, not much, I don't think. Probably just feeling a bit of pressure to conclude the train acquisition deal. It takes forever to inspect 3 dozen cars, it turns out.

...are you really trying to be subtle or are you hoping I will ask what you have there?

Barnum

Do you want me to take over? I'm sure I can handle inspecting some train cars.

Starts unpacking the drawer in search

Oh it's nothing. Just an injured fox I found outside. Nothing to concern yourself with or-

Is cut off as the bundle starts wailing, instantly losing his train of thought and putting down the stapler in his hand to start bouncing the bundle in his arms

Oh no no no, don't cry. Shhhhhhh. It's okay. Are you hungry? Shall we get you some milk?

Carlyle

eyebrows shoot upwards in disbelief

Phin, is that a...

inches over for a closer look

Do they like being held sideways like that?

Barnum

Sighs a heavy sigh and shifts the baby around into the crook or his arm, bouncing him gently

Alright, alright. You know how I took Christina, the fortune teller, out of the show a few months ago on sick leave? She was with child and gave birth a few weeks back. She does not want anyone to know, I've been taking care of him in the early mornings a few times a week to give her some space.

Gently holds the infant up to face Phillip as the tiny creature whimpers miserably. At least having the decency to look sheepish

I should have mentioned, but she made me swear secrecy. Also I believe I may be missing my daughters more than I realise.

Carlyle

stares at the bundle, wide-eyed

Hi there, what's your name?

slowly reaches out, offering one finger and watching as it is grabbed by a tiny hand

He's so small. And angry-looking.

Barnum

She hasn't given him a name yet. I think she was considering Jasper. I've just been referring to him as little tomato, he is very red and round.

Very carefully shifts the little creature over

Here, you want to hold him? I need two hands to find his bottle anyway.

Carlyle

hastily holds out hands, still looking confused

Maybe? I mean. Yes? If it's safe...

gingerly picks up the baby with both hands, trying to figure out the optimal position to best support it, relaxing as he realizes the weight feels familiar

Huh. He's about the size of a cat. I wonder...

carefully flips it over to lay belly down on one arm, cradling it with legs and arms dangling

Hey, he seems to like this as much as BT does!

Barnum

Starts to rummage in his desk drawer again until he finds and pulls out a glass baby bottle, letting out a small hum of success before glancing back at Phillip, immediately doubling over in laughter

Phil, what are you doing? That is not how you hold a baby.

Wipes one of his eyes with his palm, the other hand on his knee as he remains down to catch his breath before regaining some composure. Moving over and delicately lifting the baby out of his arms, turning him around and laying him right ways up in the crook of Phillip's arm.

Just support his head and you'll be fine. Best not to hold them upside down, they do tend to leak from the top half just as much as the bottom.

Carefully moves over to the coffee table, picking up the bottle of fresh milk they had for coffee and scraping off the cream before filling the bottle. He shakes it softly and then pours some hot water from the wash pot into a bowl and places the feeding bottle in it to warm up.

Carlyle

frowns but gamely holds it in the new position, eyeing diaper a little nervously

No leaks until Uncle Phin comes back, okay buddy? A stain won't show on that travesty of a waistcoat anyway.

Barnum

Hey, watch it. Paisley is high fashion at the moment.

Takes the bottle out and tests it gently on his wrist before bringing it over

He seems to really like you, he's stopped crying. Want to try to feed him or do you want me to take him back?

Carlyle

perks up, grinning at the baby

He did, didn't he?

holds out hand for bottle

Better not disturb him with another transfer then. This shouldn't be too hard.

gently waves bottle's teat in front of infant's mouth until it lunges for it

Wow, guess you were hungry.

ten minutes later, with baby still suckling slowly at bottle

PT? I take it back. My arm is falling asleep.

Barnum

Chuckles, leaning against his desk and watching in amusement

Hmmmmmm. Nope. Don't think I'm going to take him back. You are stuck with him forever now. This is your new life.

Carlyle

carefully backs into the sofa and sits, resting arm on a cushion with a sigh

I know what nursing a drink looks like, and I swear this baby is doing it on purpose.

huffs triumphantly as the bottle is finally released, only to notice that the diaper end now feels a bit damper

Umm. Help.

Barnum

Shakes his head fondly and opens the closet at the back of the office, pulling out a blanket and a bundle of material. Then grabs the bowl of warm water and dumps a handful of rags in it.

Alright, alright. I've tormented you enough. Hand him over.

Chuckles softly as he plucks the baby from Phil's arms and lays him down on the blanket on top of his desk to change him, his movements so swift it's like a blur

You've got a knack for this you know. Most men won't even hold their own babies for fear of doing it wrong. Hand me that bottle of powder over there. Have you ever had thoughts of having children of your own before? I mean, obviously before we....

Carlyle

passes over the bottle in question, watching Barnum work away in silence for a long beat

Well. Of course. It was expected. All part of the plan. Perhaps my only real job, according to some.

small downward turn of the lips, regards baby sadly

As if someone this small should ever have to go through that.

Barnum

Tightens the new diaper neatly with a pin, then bundles up the dirty one and tosses it to Phillip without warning

Heads up.

Chuckles, watching him catch it then drop it in horror, before scooping the baby up and moving over to sit next to him

You aren't living that life anymore. What you do with your life is what you decide to, and no matter what it is you decide it will be the most important job in the world because it matters to you. Have babies, don't have babies, get married, don't get married. You are your own man, Phil. Only let the things that make you happy define you and don't worry about anyone else.

Gently lowers the much happier little baby into Phillip's lap, along with a blanket. Then stands to toss away the abandoned dirty diaper

No child should be made to feel as if their purpose is laid out before them, their future is their decision. You okay to burp him?

Carlyle

nodding slowly, still mulling over the question in a way not previously considered

Knowing how happy they make you, having met the girls myself and seen their faces, I suppose it's something I would not be averse to having at all. If such a thing were possible.

lifts the baby and whispers in his ear

C'mere you. Humor me and burp fast and there's a stuffed toy in your future.

Barnum

Shuffles a little closer and tucks the blanket over Phillip's shoulder

You're going to want to protect your clothes. Here, just give his back a gentle pat. I do it to the rhythm of our opening song.

Leans his head against Phillip's other shoulder as he watches fondly

I am likely getting on a bit to be a father again. Doing this full time along with running the show would be exhausting. Don't get me wrong, if I woke up one morning magically a father again I would embrace it with everything I've got. But honestly, I am happy with how things are. I have my two girls and they are the lights of my life. Besides, me and you have a whole troupe to look after as well as animals, I think I am near fathered out for one lifetime.

Gently strokes the baby's cheek with the side of his finger, eyes so soft

I do miss it, sometimes. Admittedly I do have an incredible soft spot for babies. Now that the girls are older and living with their mother I do often get a touch of empty nest syndrome, it does sometimes feel like I have lost a little part of who I was. But I wouldn't change a thing about the way things are now. Being with you, being here, living life to the fullest, it makes me the happiest man on the planet.

Moves in slightly to press a kiss against Phil's cheek

I just want to make sure that I am never holding you back. I have had my chance in life to pass on my seed, to raise little ones and watch them grow. I hate to think it would ever be something I am depriving you of, if it ever was something you wanted. I suppose that either way, you'll always still be a father though. The girls adore you near as much as they adore me. You'll always be a dad to them.

Carlyle

pats baby's back to a steady rhythm, leaning head against Barnum's

You've already given me more than I could have possibly imagined or hoped for, the exact opposite of deprivation. Real family is something far beyond surnames and lineage, you've taught me that.

kisses the stray curls on top of Barnum's head, then starts a little as the baby burps softly and promptly falls asleep on his other shoulder

Good job, buddy.

Barnum

Puts an arm around Phillip's shoulder gently, grinning at him lovingly before settling against him again, watching the sleeping baby breathe softly against his shoulder.

You should join me to do this more often. We make a good babysitting team. You're a natural.

About to turn Phillip's face towards him to plant a kiss on his lips, is interrupted as the door clicks open. He straightens and clears his throat as Christina the fortune teller wanders in, looking briefly panicked by Phillip before sighing and turning her attention to the ringmaster

"It's ten o'clock, Mr Barnum. Time to give him back. Was he good?"

He was a perfect little gentleman as always. We can keep him for another few hours if you-

She narrows her eyes at him and wanders over to scoop up her baby fondly, giving Phillip a grateful nod

"You cannot bargain for more time every week. You are already on thin ice."

She wanders out with a wave, closing the door. Barnum snorts softly and gives Phillip a sheepish look

The first time she left him with me I got rather too attached and took him for an impromptu walk without telling her to buy myself a little more time. To say she was panicked when she came in and we were gone is an understatement. Breakfast before we head downstairs?

#tgs #the greatest showman #phillip carlyle #pt barnum #barlyle #discord thread #two ringmasters and a baby

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sarcasticmesswriting · 6 years ago

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Day 23 Self-Sacrifice - Whumptober Clint/Steve

I honestly don’t know what this is. I’m sleep deprived.

Edit: I am so sleep deprived that I wrote Clint/Phil instead what it is now and didn’t notice until like two hours later. Yeah.

It is the time of the year again.

The snow melted and the temperatures are rising and the moon will be full soon.

Clint knows what it means, but it doesn't make it any easier.

Clint's village is far from any bigger city, far from the capital with its knights and the King, and so not worthy of their attention. The village has to fend for itself against the Monsters living in the woods close by.

Clint calls them Monsters, while others, the Elders, call them Gods. Gods who were displeased at them, making their harvest sparse and their water polluted and their children sick.

All that are stories told by the Elders of the time before the Sacrifices.

In all of Clint's twenty years each one someone volunteered to be sacrificed to the Monsters/Gods on the first full moon in the spring just before the farmers plant the seeds of their crops.

The Elders say ever since the sacrifices started the chosen ones ascended to heaven and they village never had a bad day again. The family of the people volunteering were bestowed the highest honor, doors decorated with the sign of being blessed by the Gods.

Many are excited if someone out of their family decides to be the one. Many fight over the right to be the one to die.

Clint is in no way one of them. Clint is the one to leave the village and scout around the place of sacrifice and further into the woods trying to find any signs of the monsters who took his best friend Steve years ago. Clint doesn't believe Gods look down on them and judge them. If Gods are so cruel to want the death of them and are so powerful they are able to destroy them, why be content with only one person and grant the village with balanced weather and food and water?

It may be fair to humans, but it doesn't seem fair to Gods.

So after years of searching, after years of being alone with no family and no real purpose aside from searching, Clint is done.

He doesn't believe in Gods, but he believes that the village believes it and he is not going to let someone else lose their best friend like he had.

The Gathering before the sacrifice starts and Clint steps up and announces his intent to be the sacrifice, to be the one saving the village and no one fights him. The Elders don't like his questioning attitude and everyone else doesn't want to lose a family member even if it brings honor to them all.

Red streaks through the sky as he is paraded to the pole in the clearing a long march into the woods.

Feeling scared and resigned Clint steps onto the little podium. Rope bites into his wrists, probably rubbing it raw, but it doesn't matter anymore. Clint is going to die and hurt wrists are the least of his worries.

The Elders chant and Clint looks up at the sky at the appearing stars trying to find some moment of peace. Maybe he will be able to revenge Steve by taking one of the monsters with him, because he has no delusions of surviving the encounter.

The chant stops tears pool in his eyes as everyone stares and the symbols etched around him begin to glow red. He didn't expect to feel this bad, but his hands are shaking as he holds onto the pole and ropes to have something to anchor him.

The symbol glow brighter and brighter until they seem to explode and Clint closes his eyes against it.

He expects nothing and is surprised to find himself still breathing seconds later as he blinks the red out of his vision.

“Just to be clear”, Clint says, seeing silhouettes of several person like things. “Having humans sacrifice themselves for your amusement is the shittiest thing you could do. Monsters or Gods or whatever you are.” His voice isn't even shaking too bad. At least he will die proud.

“Oh, a mouthy one”, someone mutters and Clint raises his chin in response.

“Why are you here, little one?” It is a female voice, melodic and gentle and most importantly close enough to reach.

“Remember Steve? Little, scrawny sacrifice six sacrifices ago?” Clint takes a deep breath, holding the image in his mind. “That was my friend and I don't like my friends taken from me.” With a tug Clint frees himself from the ropes the moment his vision is back fully and takes a swing.

He misses as the female moves backwards swiftly.

Three person like things are in front of him. The female and two men. The female has flaming red hair and both men have brown hair, one longer, one shorter.

“I like this one”, the one with shorter hair says and he isn't the one who had talked before.

“What's your name?”, the female asks and Clint squints at her suspiciously.

Why do they want to make him pliable if they are going to kill him, if they are powerful enough to influence the weather?

“Steve”, the one with the longer hair shouts and Clint blinks and blinks more when another person emerges from Clint's blind spot from the right of him.

“You know you're not supposed to use name yet, Bucky.” He's tall with muscles and blond hair. He can squash Clint's head with his hands alone.

“Breaking your own rule there”, the one with shorter hair comments with a smirk and earns a glare from the blond.

“Tony”, the female says and Clint looks back and forth between them all.

He is very confused. He also seems to make a sound, because the blond turns to him and his eyes widen.

“Clint?”

“Yes?”

“It's me. Steve.” He puts a hand on his chest that is not scrawny at all.

Clint's suspicions don't leave him. The alertness doesn't leave his body.

“The sacrifices the village are making don't die. Gideon Malick thinks he is taking over, but we won't let the Council. Instead we take them in.” The blond pretending to be Steve spreads his arms drawing Clint's attention to the wooden houses around the square they are in, the well and personal items scattered around.

“Clint. My hawk.” Steve's voice dips low into a tone Clint is familiar with. His hand taking Clint's is just as warm as it was six years ago. “Please, believe me.”

“My eagle”, Clint says back and hears someone gagging beside him.

When the sun rose up in the morning Clint thought this was the day he would die. Now, with the sun disappearing for good, he knows it was the day he was reborn into a family he deserved.

#whumptober #whump #clint barton #Phil Coulson #hawkeye #fanfiction #fanfic #My writing #marvel #whumptober2018

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littlerose13writes · 7 years ago

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Sweeter Than Fiction Chapter 8: A Strong Cup of Tea

Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter have decided fifth year is going to be their year; the year everything works out for them, and if that means Scorpius keeping his huge crush on his best friend a secret, then that’s just what he’s going to have to do.

It’s just a crush. He can get over it well before fifth year is over, can’t he?

Chapter 8/27

Warnings: contains description of a panic attack

Updates every Monday and Friday

Read on AO3 or FF

The following morning was hellish when Scorpius was woken up by his dorm mates leaving the room and feeling completely unsatisfied with the amount of sleep he’d had, and still a bit shaken up from his nightmare, not least because his brain was choosing to focus on the beginning part where Albus admitted to having feelings for him.

Their morning lessons were a blur of exhaustion and Scorpius didn’t feel he’d fully woken up until halfway through Care of Magical Creatures, which thankfully was over quickly.

Scorpius and Albus walked side by side back to the castle, Albus’ school bag swinging between them while he laughed about their Care of Magical Creatures lesson where a niffler had made its way into Pucey’s wallet and stolen all his gold. Scorpius stifled a huge yawn.

“Am I boring you, Scor?” Albus teased.

Scorpius shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night.” He hadn’t planned to tell Albus about his nightmare, he didn’t need to know.

Albus looked at him very seriously and Scorpius knew he had figured it out. He tried to arrange his face into a casual expression but another yawn took over and slightly spoiled the effect.

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asked in a low voice, even though there was a good distance between them and the rest of the class who were hurrying through the high winds inside for break.

“Sort of,” Scorpius admitted. “It wasn’t too bad. It’s just impossible to fall asleep afterwards.”

Albus looked a bit put out. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“Why? So we could both be sleep deprived today?”

“No! So I could… I don’t know, help you somehow?” He looked apologetic with this lame response. “I’ve been using that portable, two-way silencing charm from Uncle Ron since Higgs started snoring so badly. I didn’t hear you wake up. Do you want to talk about it?”

Scorpius could hardly explain why his nightmare had been so horrible without revealing his feelings for Albus, and he wasn’t about to do that in the break before double Potions on a windy Tuesday morning.

“It was just the usual, you know. Delphi was there, she was trying to torture me, Voldemort was in power, I was the Scorpion King, you never existed.” He tried to say this casually, almost with amusement, to trick himself into thinking it was all a funny story that couldn’t hurt him in his sleep.

The truth was that, even with all of that horrificness, the one thing that tore Scorpius from sleep for the rest of the night was the crushingly real feeling that Albus was gone, the idea of losing him. It made him feel sick.

“Scorpius?” Albus had stopped which made Scorpius realise he had stopped too. He was standing stock still, rooted to the spot and feeling like all his blood had just been drained from him in one quick motion.

He couldn’t breathe, his lungs were working furiously but nothing was happening. Oxygen refused to enter them, he was going to pass out and die because he couldn’t breathe. His vision was blurring, darkness creeping in from all sides as he felt his legs crumple beneath him. He was falling, falling, further and further down and he wasn’t breathing anymore. He was going to die.

“Scorpius look at me, right at me, that’s it, just look at me.” Scorpius vaguely heard a calm voice as he breathed in and in over and over, trying to get his breath to catch right at the back of his throat where he needed it. It wasn’t quite reaching, but it was going into his lungs, his vision was clearing.

Albus’ familiar, kind face swam into view. Albus, I’m going to die. He tried to speak, tell Albus, ask him for help. But nothing happened. All he could do was continually breathe in, he was hyperventilating.

“Press your palms together. The Battle of Hogwarts took place between the first and second of May, 1998 and culminated in the demise of Tom Riddle. Take your hands apart. Many consider this battle as the start of the new wizarding world, due to the major reformations to the key structures of our world since.”

He’d joined his hands together as if praying then taken them apart as instructed. Why? He knew these words, these words were familiar and they came from his History of Magic textbook. He could breathe when he heard Albus’ voice read these words, he knew these words and these words wouldn’t hurt him. Albus wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t let him die. His heart was staying put inside him, its thumping had decreased. His breath had finally caught, he wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t going to die.

“Hands together. Harry Potter was a key figure throughout this process. Hands apart.”

“M’okay.” Somebody with Scorpius’ voice spoke and it took him a few seconds to realise it was him. He was breathing heavily, as if he’d forgotten how.

“Breathe in through your nose.” Scorpius obeyed. “Out through your mouth. And again.”

Albus talked him through this breathing process a few more times before he became fully aware of his surroundings again. He was in the grounds, not far from Hagrid’s hut but nobody was around apart from Albus, who was focused intently on Scorpius. He was sat on the ground, leaning weakly against Albus’ school bag and Albus was sat in front of him, looking concerned.

“Tell me what you need now.”

Scorpius was starting to realise what had just happened. He’d been fine for months, no nightmares, no panic attacks, and he’d just been walking to class with Albus. Everything had been completely normal, he’d been trying not to think about his nightmare, and it had hit him like a strong reducto. Now he was here outside with Albus and he just wanted to bury his face away from view.

“I need you.”

Albus said nothing and just got up onto his knees and opened his arms out tentatively. Scorpius didn’t think and simply fell into them. Albus cradled his head against his chest and they stayed like that for a few minutes before Scorpius could speak.

“What’s wrong with me, Al?”

Albus pulled away from him and held him at arms’ length, his hands atop Scorpius’ shoulders. “Nothing is wrong with you. You went through something most people can’t even imagine. It’s normal to have a reaction, you can’t just snap back as if it never happened.”

“Why can’t I just get better?” Scorpius heard the childish desperation in his question.

“My cousin Victoire is studying stuff like this at St Mungo’s. You know, mental health rather than physical. She says it’s often harder to heal a brain than a body. It’s going to be her specialism when she becomes a Healer.”

“She’ll be good at that.” He was remembering Victoire from James’ birthday and imagined her presence would be quite calming.

“She will. Wizards don’t put enough value on some muggle therapies, like just talking about how they feel, and instead want to use spells and potions to fix everything. But that doesn’t always work.”

“Can’t really use episkey on my mind can we?” He tried to smile light-heartedly but he felt like he’d been in a fight with a troll and the troll had got a good few whacks of his club in.

“We can write to her if you want. Vic, I mean. She might be able to help you. Only if you want to though,” Albus said tentatively.

“Maybe.” Scorpius wasn’t sure how he felt about this prospect when a thought occurred to him. “Were you reading A History of Magic to me earlier?”

Albus flushed. “I memorised a few pages, just in case this happened. I thought you’d like it.”

Scorpius managed a small smile. “I can’t believe I’ve got you memorising textbooks.”

Albus beamed when he heard Scorpius speaking in a more light hearted tone. “C’mon, I’m taking you to Madam Pomfrey.”

“No,” Scorpius protested, trying to stand up. Albus was still holding onto him.

“What do you mean no? You have to, she’ll remember what to do.” Albus was pulling him to his feet. “Come on, before the corridors fill up for classes.”

“No,” Scorpius repeated. “I don’t want to go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will write to my dad, and he was so pleased when I told him I wasn’t having panic attacks anymore. I don’t want him to know.”

Albus looked at him with sad eyes. “Scor, you have to tell him.”

Scorpius pictured his father, still encumbered with grief and the way he had failed to hide how distraught he had been when Scorpius had panicked over the summer. He’d tried, of course he had tried, but Scorpius knew it was too painful for his dad to see him suffer. Here at Hogwarts, he had the ability to keep this from him, and maybe that way his dad could start to heal himself.

He thought of Albus’ own father, when he’d been staying at the Potters’ in the summer. How warm and easy the relationship between Harry and Albus had become, the way Harry made it so clear he was there to listen to anything Albus had to say, even when Albus was in one of his moods. It made Scorpius’ heart ache with envy. He knew his dad loved him, but he also knew his dad was nowhere near ready to talk about what happened. He didn’t want to cause him even more pain.

“Not yet, please.” It was all he could answer. “Don’t make me go to the hospital wing, she’ll only want to give me a calming draught and you know I hate the side effects of that stuff. It’s not as if she can stop me having another one ever.”

Albus looked at him sympathetically then gazed around them, his eyes landing on Hagrid’s hut. “Can we at least go to Hagrid’s? You look like you could do with a strong cup of tea, no side effects to that.”

“We’ll be late for class. It’s double Potions, Al, your favourite.”

“I don’t care,” he shrugged, beckoning for Scorpius to follow him. “You’re more important.”

You’re more important.

Scorpius wondered if Albus had any idea the effect his throwaway comments could have.

They knocked on the door and Hagrid emerged, a large and unwieldy knife in his hand. Scorpius eyed it warily, not that Hagrid was at all threatening, but he didn’t always have the best aim.

“Hi Hagrid,” Albus said as soon as the door opened. “Can we come in please? I’m, er, not feeling well.”

Hagrid looked concerned and stepped back to let them inside. The table was mostly taken up with what looked like rotten vegetables, which Hagrid was preparing with the knife for an unknown creature.

Scorpius was grateful that Albus had lied for him and he stayed silent as Hagrid quizzed his best friend about why he felt unwell and tried to force him to the hospital wing and said he was going to write to Al’s parents. Albus let him fuss, but he slid the cup of strong tea Hagrid made for him in Scorpius’ direction, swapping it for his own. Hagrid didn’t notice.

“Bin meaning ter have a word with yer about yer sister,” he said, appraising Albus over the rim of his mug. “She ‘asn’t bin turning up ter feed her Hippogriff like the other third years.”

Scorpius found this information surprising; he knew Lily Potter was very fond of animals. Albus however, didn’t look very surprised and instead rolled his eyes.

“What were you asking her to feed it?” he asked knowingly.

“Usual stuff, Hippogriffs eat insects and small mammals. I’ve had ‘em on ferrets and worms.” Hagrid looked confused by Albus’ question.

He nodded in understanding. “She has a thing at the moment about eating animals. She won’t do it anymore, apparently that extends to feeding Hippogriffs too.”

“But they’re wild creatures? That’s wha’ they eat.” Hagrid was perplexed.

“Try telling that to Lily,” Albus muttered and took a sip of tea.

Hagrid watched him for a second. “I found ‘er in the forbidden forest yesterday.”

Albus nearly spat his tea out. “Lily was in the forbidden forest? Oh, don’t tell Dad. He might have a heart attack.”

“Nearly gave me an ‘eart attack and all! Tiny thing like ‘er, wandering around with all those creatures. She told me she got lost.”

Albus scoffed and rolled his eyes. “If Lily was in the forbidden forest, she wanted to be there. Trust me.”

“I didn’t think ‘er story added up, going on about a homework assignment ter draw a map o’ the grounds or something?”

Scorpius laughed, and instantly felt his mood lift and his heart lighten. He still felt as if he’d been pummelled with a beater’s bat, but that was normal after a panic attack. For now, he was safe with his best friend, laughing together about his little sister and her eccentric ways.

“The thing about Lily is detentions don’t seem to worry her,” Albus chatted away. “She thinks of them more as social occasions, or a chance to practise her singing if she’s left alone.”

“The Potters like their singing, Hagrid,” Scorpius said, throwing Albus a mischievous look, letting his best friend know he was feeling better and he was very grateful for him.

Albus grinned back, picking up on Scorpius’ change in mood. “We’re thinking of starting a band,” he laughed. “Shower Serenades.”

Hagrid watched Albus. “Yer seem quite bright. Are yer feeling well enough to go to class? I’ll write yer teacher a note, who do yer have next?”

“Slughorn, double Potions,” Albus muttered, glancing at Scorpius who nodded. “And yes, I feel well enough.”

“Right then, best be on yer way then,” he said, scribbling a note. He looked up at Scorpius when he’d finished writing. “Yer a very good friend, Scorpius, making sure ‘e’s alright.” His eyes were twinkling as if he knew what was going on.

“Are you sure you feel better?” Albus said worriedly as they climbed the castle steps. “You don’t need to lie down?”

Scorpius imagined going back to the dorm and laying in the dark by himself, then he imagined attending Potions and being in the same room as Albus. He knew which was more appealing.

“I’d prefer to keep busy,” Scorpius said honestly and Albus nodded.

They shuffled into the dungeon classroom and every head turned to stare at them. Scorpius looked at his feet and Albus awkwardly handed Slughorn the note from Hagrid. He read it and nodded sympathetically. “Take a seat, boys.”

Potions was Scorpius’ favourite subject (other than History of Magic which would always be his ultimate favourite) because he loved seeing Albus excel. Ever since fourth year, when he had really come into his own, Albus shone in Potions class, working in an adorably unsystematic order but somehow still managing to produce the best brew in the class. Slughorn doted on him and said he was a natural, which made Albus squirm in discomfort but didn’t stop him continuing to be top of the class. It was another lesson they shared with the Gryffindors.

“You’ve joined us just in time to hear which brew you will be making today.” Slughorn smiled at him and Albus. “This potion is tricky, one of the trickiest you will learn this year, and my intention is for you to brew it today, and then again at the end of the school year when you will have all, no doubt, improved.”

There was an excited buzz as they waited to find out which potion they would be brewing.

“You will be attempting to brew the cure for Dragon Pox. As some of you may know, this potion originates from the 14th century but was revised more recently. Unfortunately, nobody has found a revision of the cure which completely eradicates the greenish tinge to the sufferer.”

“Like poor Jeremy Boot,” whispered Imogen Carlisle.

Jeremy Boot was a Ravenclaw in the year above who had suffered a bad case of Dragon Pox as a child. He’d survived but his skin was a faint shade of green at all times and nobody ever liked to mention it.

“You will be using the revised recipe, which you will find on page seventy-nine of your books. As this potion is particularly tricky,” he flicked his wand at the blackboard and everyone’s names wrote themselves in a long list, “you will be working in pairs.” Another flick of his wand rearranged the names so they were lined up in pairs.

There was a moment of silence while everyone browsed the list for their partner’s name and movement started as people partnered up and started to collect ingredients. Scorpius ran his eyes down the list and found his name.

Scorpius Malfoy - Cole Flint

Just below, he read:

Albus Potter - Thea Jordan

Scorpius shared a look with Albus and he shrugged and gathered his potions kit up to go and sit with Thea. His place was taken instantly by Cole, who looked pleased.

“If I have to work with an Arrows supporter…” He grinned and placed his own potions kit on the desk. Scorpius smiled back and started to set a cauldron up between them. “Are you any good at potions, Blondie?”

Scorpius looked up from the bracket he was setting the cauldron up on. “I’m alright, I can follow the instructions well enough that nothing usually goes horribly wrong.”

Cole looked relieved. “I’ve been called a hazard near a cauldron on more than one occasion. Mind if I stick more to prepping the ingredients?”

“Not at all.” They shared a friendly smile and Scorpius flipped the textbook to the correct page, glancing over the rather complicated instructions.

“We have to soak the dragon scales in essence of murtlap for thirty minutes before we can add them, so we should do that first.” Cole read over his shoulder and rummaged in his Potions kit for what he needed.

“Isn’t it weird that you need dragon scales to cure Dragon Pox?” Scorpius mused as he lit a fire under the cauldron with his wand and set it off gently warming.

“Hmm? A bit. Dragons can’t catch Dragon Pox.” Cole held up one of the greenish-blue dragon scales and it caught the light attractively. “Look at these things. My aunt has a dragon-hide handbag like this. This is the ingredient that turns people green; shame it’s useless without them.”

“You know a lot about this potion,” Scorpius observed as Cole tipped the shiny scales into the murtlap.

“My grandma had it this summer, a really bad case too. Even if she’d been younger she probably wouldn’t have survived.” Cole was rummaging in his potions kit again and not looking at Scorpius as he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Were you close?”

Cole looked up with the next ingredient in his hand and sighed. “We were as it happens. She was almost like a mum to me, seeing as mine wasn’t that interested in being a mum.”

Scorpius had never spoken to his dorm mate about anything other than trivial, day-to-day topics like if he could borrow some toothpaste or who a cloak belonged to. It was like they were meeting for the first time as completely new people.

Cole seemed to notice Scorpius wasn’t sure how to respond to that and he grinned. “Don’t feel sorry for me or anything, I had Dad and Oliver growing up and they were more than enough. And then I had my grandma, until this summer.”

“I know how that feels. I… I lost my mum, more than two years ago now.” The cauldron fire roared between them but neither of them were touching the ingredients.

“I know. I’m really sorry for your loss, Scorpius. I wanted to say something at the time, but we didn’t really speak and I didn’t want to intrude.” He paused for a second. “Does it… does it get better? Missing them?”

Scorpius could hear the desperate plea in his voice. “Better isn’t the word. You’ll always miss her, but it becomes easier to accept after time. The missing doesn’t go away, but it’s fonder and less painful.”

He realised he was smiling away to himself and Cole gave him a grateful look. “Thanks, Scorpius. That's… thanks. You’re a mate.”

“And how are things going over here, boys? Good to see you’ve got your dragon scales soaking, many have overlooked that instruction. Hop to it, get slicing your daisy roots, chop chop.” Slughorn leaned over their cauldron and peered inside as he spoke, not that there was much in there to see.

“Chopping, sir,” Cole said briskly, doing exactly that.

“Now, when you add the sea water, Scorpius, you’ll want to pour from the left side of the cauldron, like Albus over there is doing.” He pointed across the classroom at where Albus and Thea were working.

Albus was clearly in what Scorpius called ‘Potions Mode’ and what Albus called ‘shh, Scor, I’m trying to concentrate’. He’d loosened his tie and pulled it to one side and he’d rolled both of his jumper sleeves up to his elbows. His hair was its usual mess but he’d swept it back from his face, where the steam from his cauldron made it stay in place. It made him look completely different, having his hair pushed back like that, older and more mature but at the same time incredibly attractive to Scorpius. He was smiling broadly and passing ingredients back and forth with Thea, who looked highly impressed.

“Scorpius, mate,” Cole interrupted his staring and Scorpius turned to him with a guilty start. “I know you said it was nothing at the party, but you can tell me. I don’t mind if you fancy her.”

Oh. Cole thought he’d been staring at Thea.

“No, no, I don’t, honestly. Just… thinking about the potion.” Cole shrugged and smiled again as Slughorn bobbed back into view.

“Come on, boys. You’re hardly any further on than the last time I was here.”

He stood watching over them as Scorpius hastily tipped the sliced daisy roots into the cauldron and it turned a bright white. Cole kept glancing suspiciously at him, as if he didn’t believe a word, but Scorpius could hardly say anything to defend himself in front of Slughorn. It was true though, he didn’t fancy Thea and he hadn’t been staring at her.

“Counter-clockwise, that’s it.” Slughorn waited expectantly for Scorpius to stir the potion, but he couldn’t help his eyes flicking frequently to what Cole was doing. Clearly, he was enough of a hazard near a cauldron for Slughorn to monitor them constantly. “Now, Scorpius, can I expect your attendance at my November soirée?”

Scorpius lost count of his stirs and hurriedly tried to work out if he’d done enough. “Yes, sir, I’ll be there. Thankyou for the invitation.”

“That’s quite alright. It was quite the adventure you got up to last year, everyone’s still talking about it of course. The stories! Of course, I don’t like to listen to gossip, but…” he tailed off with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Not yet! It’s too hot to test.” Scorpius hurriedly grabbed the spoon from Cole’s grasp before he could taste a drop like the instruction recommended at this stage.

“Just like your mother, she was always careful with her potioneering. I always said she’d make a wonderful Healer if circumstances had been… well, you’re very alike in a lot of ways.”

“That’s what I want to do, sir,” Scorpius said eagerly, hoping Slughorn would tell him more about his mum in class. “I want to be a Healer when I leave school.”

“A Healer, hey? Well now, let me think.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Ah, Hetty Fairchild. Taught her everything she knows about healing potions I did, and now she’s in charge of a team of forty at St Mungo’s. What do you say I drop her an owl, see if she can’t join us for our next get together? I’m sure she’d love to talk to you about Healer school.”

“Thanks, sir.”

This seemed like an interesting prospect. He’d really enjoyed talking to Albus’ cousin, Victoire, about her experience as a student at St Mungo’s School of Healing Excellence. It would be fascinating to also talk to someone who’d been in the field for a long time.

Their potion was complete with the final ingredient of the soaked dragon scales, which turned it a lurid green, not far from the shade described in the recipe.

“Blimey, I feel like I’m turning green just looking at this thing.” Cole pretended to shield his eyes from the potion’s bright glare while Slughorn came round to inspect.

To nobody’s surprise, Albus and Thea’s potion was the best by far, but Slughorn did take vials of several pairs’ work, including Scorpius and Cole’s attempt.

“It’s a shame you can’t cosy up together with Jordan during the game on Saturday, Potter. Then maybe you’d stand half a chance of catching the quaffle,” Polly hissed snidely, loud enough for most people to hear.

Thea simply rolled her eyes and muttered but Albus, only slightly red, turned around to glare at her. Albus, who had always coped by ignoring and looking the other way, and never bit back.

“It’s a shame you didn’t make the team this year, Polly. Or last year. And remind me, did you make it the year before that either? Have you ever made the team?”

There was a shocked silence at Albus’ words. Not because of what he’d said, but the rest of their classmates, like Scorpius, were expecting Albus to ignore her like he usually did.

“Yeah, well…” Polly visibly cast around for something to hit back with as Albus glared at her and turned to clear his Potions kit away. “At least I don’t have stupid hair.”

Even Karl Jenkins was looking at her with secondhand embarrassment.

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chapter index

#scorbus #Scorpius malfoy #Albus potter #Scorpius x Albus #Albus Severus potter #Albus x Scorpius #sweeter than fiction #hpcc #ccsquad #Cursed Child #Harry Potter and the Cursed Child #fanfiction #tw: panic attack #swflr8

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eat-a-mint-jungkook · 8 years ago

Text

Forget everything you know about love

Husbands!Jikook, 10k of angsty crack + fluff fluff fluff

For we cannot love something we do not remember, but maybe forgetting was the solution to all of Jungkook’s problems.

A/N: From this request; hope you like it!

A left, another left, a right, and then a left. Or was it left, right, left, left?

Jungkook doesn't have time to worry about that as he races down the hall, each tick of the clocks in the hospital, each quickening beat of his heart feeling like it might be the last. Like it might be too late.

Room two twenty-four, two twenty-five... screw it.

Jungkook bursts through the door a millisecond before he could process that it was indeed the correct number, but is given confirmation by the figure seemingly drowning beneath the white sheets.

He was pale. An IV drip attached to one arm. There were a few patches of faint yellow from the bruising. But amidst the faint beeping in the background and the smell of disinfectants much too strong, he was still the same Jimin that Jungkook had always known.

"Jimin—" Jungkook cuts himself off, part of him afraid that he'd regret whatever tumbled out of his mouth in such a distraught state, and the other part of him not even knowing what to say.

Jimin, I'm so sorry...please don't hate me.

Jungkook keeps his head bowed, avoiding the look of hatred that he expected from his husband.

"Um...hi?"

But as he looks up and sees that strangely empty look in Jimin's eyes, he knows that something isn't quite right.

"Jimin? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." A pause that feels much too long. "Sorry, um, could you tell me who you are?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips curling down into a frown. "Were you someone important to me?"

Perhaps it was even worse than hatred. Was it just a prank? Was it his way of indirectly lashing out and making Jungkook's life hard? Could it even be possible that he had actually hit his head too hard and forgotten everything...?

"Wait, are you Jungkook?"

Jungkook can't help but stare blankly at the man. The man that once gazed back at him with such a range of emotions who now held nothing but that single question in his eyes.

He hadn't meant for things to turn out like this at all.

"Yes, I am." But what does that mean to you now?

Jimin lets out an audible sigh of relief, the tension slipping out from his shoulders. "Oh, good."

"Good?" Jungkook dumbly repeats back.

"You're the one that they keep talking about." Jimin fiddles with the sheets, not meeting his gaze. "We must've been pretty close and it's just comforting to have a friend here."

"Friend." Jungkook echoes back like a broken record.

That causes him to look up. "We weren't friends? Don't tell me we were married or something." The brunette now barks a laugh that shows he may have intended it to be a joke to break up the awkward atmosphere between them, but the words have already hit Jungkook directly in the heart. It was hard to think that this Jimin didn't know anything, that this wasn't his Jimin, but at the same time, it wasn't hard to imagine the real Jimin spewing hurtful words like this too.

It was a lose-lose situation and he wasn't sure which was worse—his Jimin, who no longer wanted anything to do with him, or this version now who saw him as no more than a stranger.

"Um...no." We're married but—no, I can't tell you anything like this. It's too quiet in the room even with the faint beeping of machines in the background and he could only hear his own heart pounding too painfully in his chest. "We were...um."

Jimin raises an eyebrow at that. "Hooking up? You can just say it, you know."

"No!" He feels his cheeks blaze at the mention, wanting nothing more than to run his fingers through Jimin's soft hair, to taste his lips and feel the way his breath fell against warm skin, to know that he was alive and that all of this was real. Yet he stands still with feet firmly planted, not trusting himself to get any closer to the one he once called his husband. "No, we were like... best friends. Uh, more than best friends."

"Were we dating?"

"Something like that."

"Hmm, that's interesting. I don't think I believed in dating."

Jungkook's attention snaps back to him. He remembers college-Jimin saying these words back in the day, long before they were anything more than just classmates.

Which meant it was either a terrible prank, or he really has no memory past his college days? No memory of Jungkook at all?

"Yeah, you didn't." Jungkook admits. "I'm not sure what happened." He chuckles awkwardly to hide the way he was slowly sinking, not knowing what to do, how to react, how to even take in the situation. What if Jimin never regained his memories and this new Jimin didn't like him at all? But what if he did recover his memories and then everything goes back to normal? Either way it seemed like he'd lose him again in the end.

"Then you must've been quite the guy." Jimin's tone is filled with a sort of ironic amusement, not quite skeptical or sarcastic, but not quite teasing either.

Jungkook stays quiet, shrugging slightly and forcing on a smile. It's like he was acting as odd as someone around their crush, or someone he was trying to impress.

Because that's basically what this came down to, right? He needed to convince Jimin, someone as distant as a stranger now, to fall in love with him before it was too late.

Too late for what? Jungkook doesn't exactly know but definitely doesn't want to think about that.

"So Jungkook, tell me about us."

~~~

Day two went a bit better after he was debriefed by the doctors. They said it was indeed some sort of head injury, and that memories may or may not be recovered. All they could do was monitor him from now and see which regions were affected and which memories had been lost.

"Um, so what would you like to know?" Jungkook asks, feeling the most uncomfortable in the small room. He was standing by the door, leaning against the wall. Crossing his arms. Then uncrossing them. Crossing his legs. Uncrossing them. Crossing them the other way.

His eyes dart to the window. To the machines against the wall. To the chair beside the bed. He'd already thought some of this through: no, he couldn't sit down there since it was too close to him. And you couldn't just sit beside a stranger so intimately like that.

It was Jimin who asked him to come in every day to catch him up on all the details that he's now missing. It seemed like Jimin's way of saying Don't give up on me. On us. But then again, maybe he was just bored of staying there all by himself, because who wouldn't be when they're stuck in a hospital bed?

Jimin coughs, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts. "So how did we meet?"

Jungkook pastes a smile on his face and decides to sit down in that chair anyway.

The first days of a new semester in university when students were still keen on coming to class and excited to experience what becoming an adult was truly like—that was when they first met.

Jungkook had been that stubborn kid who sat in the same seat in every lecture, claiming it as his own and getting bitter whenever anyone had come close to taking it. The first few days were fine, but naturally, it grew more and more difficult to even show up to an early morning class. That is, until skipping one lecture resorted in coming back to see Jimin being the guy to take his seat.

From then on it'd been some sort of competition where Jungkook would try to go as early as possible to claim his seat. Jimin hadn't seemed to notice at all, though perhaps the first time he truly noticed was when Jungkook had accidentally stumbled into his lap while extremely sleep deprived and running on the nervous energy caffeine provided.

"Are you even in this class?" Jungkook had asked suspiciously, shifting to the seat right beside his competitor as it would've been too awkward to just walk away to the row behind him at this point. There was no choice but to acknowledge the unsaid competition.

"Why wouldn't I be?" The boy had fired back, the strangest look on his attractive face.

And being so sleep deprived, Jungkook had mumbled the first thing that came to mind. "But why would there be any hot guys in theoretical physics?"

The boy definitely hadn't been expecting that. Slightly taken aback and a hint of blush on his cheeks, he'd also just blurted something out. "Then why are you here?"

Attractive stranger just called him attractive. That had shut Jungkook up for the rest of that lecture.

They'd become seat buddies and then formed a study group and somewhere in between there'd been something more. It'd been easy from then on, naturally falling together at every point.

Jungkook stops speaking when he notices Jimin's furrowed brows, a crease in the center of his forehead.

"That's a really weird first meeting."

"Yeah, it was. How are you even believing me right now?" Then he pauses. "Wait, maybe I shouldn't have even told you about that; you probably think I'm a freaking weirdo now."

"Maybe that's how you caught my attention." Jimin laughs. "Besides, you were in theoretical physics. Clearly, you couldn't have been very normal."

"...that's true."

"But Jungkook?"

"Hmm?"

Jimin smiled, a familiar twinkle in his eyes. "I'm believing all this because I know I would still say the same thing right now."

And that left Jungkook wordless for a while because did attractive stranger-Jimin just call him attractive again?

~~~

"So you've been visiting him?" Taehyung says on the phone, voice concerned.

Jungkook pauses. Then sighs. "Yeah."

"And? How is that going?"

"I don't know, Tae. He can't really remember anything. He doesn't remember me."

"Oh." There's a good ten seconds of silence. "Well, are you going to tell him?"

"How can I? Tae, I don't know how this is going to go. Today I only said that we were like friends or dating or whatever it is that college kids do these days." He rubs his eyes forcefully, wanting to pretend that none of this was happening, that maybe he could just break time-space and actually go back to their college days.

"You aren't going to tell him that you're married?"

"Tae, I can't. He'll never forgive me."

"But Jungkook, you can't just hide something like this." Taehyung sounds like he's frowning. "He's going to find out eventually."

"Tae... please don't tell him. I-I just need some more time to figure this all out. Please."

A deep sigh. "Okay, I won't. But I can't guarantee Yoongi won't say anything though." He pauses. "But then again, he probably hates you enough that he won't even mention your name in front of Jimin at all."

Jungkook can't decide if he wants to laugh or cry. "Okay. Thanks, Tae."

"Good luck, bro."

~~~

Jungkook had somehow stayed for the entirety of visiting hours the day before just chatting with Jimin. It brought him back to their college times, when the most they'd have to worry about was passing the next midterm. It made him look forward to visiting the next day.

The bruises have changed colour into a deep purple now, but the swelling was mostly gone. There was more colour in his face, but the best part was the shy smile that appeared when Jungkook arrived.

He brought some of Jimin's stuff from the house today, setting it all down on the table nearby. It was a bag of clothes, with a couple of snacks hidden at the bottom which the nurses hopefully wouldn't find.

Then Jungkook sat down in the chair naturally.

"Tell me what our first date was like?"

Jungkook wasn't sure one would even consider it a first date, but it was a day that he'd always remember—not for how sweet or lovey-dovey it was, but for how embarrassed he'd felt.

First term finals had come and gone, and with that, the start of winter break marked a season of splurging for celebrating students. Jimin had taken him to a cozy bubble tea cafe that'd just opened nearby.

"How is this lovely couple doing today?" the waiter asked, smiling so widely at the two of them that it almost looked like a sarcastic expression. "Here are the menus for you guys—oh just so you know, we're having a Christmas special for couples this week. You can pick anything off the couple's menu at the back for a discounted price."

"Thanks," Jungkook glanced at the waiter's nametag, "Taehyung."

"No problem! If you need anything, just let me know. You guys are super cute, by the way." A wink.

The discounts may have sounded appealing at one point, but Jungkook didn't even know if he wanted it anymore because of how awkward the entire situation was becoming.

"So...how rude would it be if we just left right now?" Jungkook asked, eyeing the counter warily.

Jimin had been strangely silent throughout the whole exchange, an unreadable expression on his face and bottom lip between his teeth. "As long as we never come back—"

"Hey! Here's some water to get the lovely couple started. You guys weren't about to leave, right? That would be unfortunate." Taehyung came back with two glasses of water, placing them on the small table between them.

Jungkook waited until the odd server left before whispering to Jimin, "How did he know? Were we too loud?"

"He—" Jimin bit his lip again, expression turning sheepish. "Just ignore whatever he says."

"Hmm..." Jungkook couldn't help but feel his heart sink a little bit. He didn't know what he'd been hoping for, but hearing it felt somewhat like a rejection.

They'd ended up ordering something from the couples' menu anyway, with Jimin muttering something about their server getting the most commission from this section after Taehyung enthusiastically introduced all of the dishes. Jungkook had agreed all too easily.

The rest of the night had passed by almost too quickly. Everything had almost seemed normal except for Jungkook constantly feeling quite self-conscious with the waiter watching them from somewhere in the cafe, and Jimin's laughter being more muted than usual.

The food was good, though. It almost made him forget about everything else.

"Thank you!" The waiter said when they got up to go. "Not going to end off a great date with a kiss?"

That's when Jimin had had enough and shoved Taehyung lightly, though the latter was completely unsuspecting of it and ended up pushed into the counter.

"Hey! What was that—"

It all happened too quickly but the next thing he knew, Jimin was dragging Jungkook out the door, a hand gripped tightly onto his own, and they were running down the block in the snow.

Cold wind was whipping his face with only the adrenaline keeping him warm and then when Jimin turned to him with a mischievous laugh, Jungkook was suddenly feeling really giddy at how things turned out. Perhaps Jimin had gone a little far, but the way he glowed and the light flush on his cheeks said it was all worth it.

They finally stopped running once they were a few blocks away, no longer with the risk of having Taehyung chase after them or something.

"You know...he wasn't wrong, though. It was a good date," Jimin murmured.

"It was."

"So you get this, I guess." He kissed his finger tips and then pressed them to Jungkook's cheek softly.

Jungkook shakes himself out of his thoughts before he could be fully pulled back into those memories. "Yeah so in conclusion, your friend, Taehyung, who I had thought was some creepy rando who just worked there, was the one who started everything." He shifts gingerly on the metal folding chair, butt uncomfortable from sitting so long.

Jimin has to stop his laughter to catch his breath. "Don't worry, I killed him for that afterwards."

"Yeah, you should've—" Jungkook has to stop to process what Jimin had just said as it sounded funny. "Wait what?"

"I mean, I must've, right?"

Jungkook snorts, waving it off. "Considering how much you still hate him for that, yeah probably."

~~~

Jungkook started going back to work but despite that, he felt better than he had in weeks. All because he started looking forward to his daily visits where he gets to see Jimin.

"What would you like to know today?" Jungkook asks as he goes to set down the snacks he brought on the table. He stopped by the grocery store on his way there and bought some of Jimin's favourites despite of what the doctors had been saying. Hospital food must be terrible after all.

"Hmm," Jimin gives him a certain look, smirk settling onto his mouth.

"What?" Jungkook stares at him through narrowed eyes. "Please don't make me talk about anything embarrassing."

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "Well, I don't think it could get much worse than yesterday's story."

"Oh my god. Don't bring that up ever again."

"Then tell me about our first kiss."

Jungkook nods, sitting down beside the bed as he refuses to acknowledge the furious blush creeping up his neck.

Nothing had happened after that incident, almost as if the two of them both were furiously pretending that nothing had happened. Things went back to a normal flow between the two of them, and soon, the second semester resumed and midterms came back in full swing.

The day before their thermodynamics midterm was when Jimin had brought him over to his apartment because there had been absolutely no space on campus to study. The apartment was close enough to the school so it didn't take much effort to relocate their study date.

Only, it was Jimin's poor (or devious) planning skills that caused the series of events to spur from there.

"Wait you don't have a couch or a breakfast table...?" Jungkook had asked as he took a quick glance around Jimin's small apartment. It was pretty bare and didn't appear to be habited at all.

"Yeah...no. I don't really spend much time here."

"Um, where should we study then?"

Jimin's bedroom was even smaller, with only a simple bed, cabinet, and desk filling the space. Maybe that should've been enough of a warning that the bed was not an ideal place to study on.

Notebooks and binders sprawled across the sheets surrounded Jungkook as he attempted to derive Schrodinger's equation again after failing too many times. And being a physics student, maybe he should've realized that the momentum of Jimin's weight on the bed beside him might make them collide and be infinitely close to each other. But maybe that's exactly what Jimin had planned in the first place.

So when Jungkook called him over to look at where his derivation went wrong, everything happened at once and Jimin's forehead ended up crashing into his jaw, quite painfully.

"Omfh," the shorter boy had pulled away just slightly, examining Jungkook's face with light touches while the rest of his body remained pressed against Jungkook's. "Sorry, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, fine."

Jungkook couldn't help but notice the warmth radiating from Jimin and how his body fit so nicely against his side. It was too nice to shift away even though he was feeling so self-conscious with Jimin's every movement—propping his elbow on Jungkook's thigh, leaning against his shoulder...

It stayed silent between them as Jimin checked over his derivations, until he suddenly turned to ask something. "Hey Jungkook?"

"Mhm?"

"If you never reveal to your crush that you like them, then does your crush really like you back?"

That made Jungkook fully stop what he was doing just to process the words. "What?"

"Well, if there's never an observation made, then theoretically there'd still be two universes superimposed on each other, right?" He paused, eyes flickering away when Jungkook met his gaze.

"Oh, so you're saying if you never confess to your crush then there's still a chance they reciprocate." Jungkook continued to stare at him intensely. "Why not just ask them and get a definite answer? Sure, the worst thing that could happen is that the cat is dead, but wouldn't it be so much better if you could make sure that it was alive?"

"So...if I kissed you right now," Jimin shyly dropped his gaze and his volume at that, "would there be a universe where you kissed me back?"

Jungkook froze, not believing what he was hearing. "W-what?"

"Never mind, sorry, I just—"

"There would be."

Then it was Jimin's turn to stop and stare at him. "What?"

"Not one, but every universe."

And then with a small smile, a gradual lean, and the slightest tilt, two worlds collapsed into one as they collided and sparked something greater.

Jungkook smiles as he finishes telling the story and finally turns to gauge Jimin's reaction.

"I'm cringing with how cheesy that was," Jimin says, a soft giggle bubbling from him. "You're so cute, Jungkook."

Thud. Jungkook could feel his heart pound painfully at the memory of it, of how he'd heard this exact laugh so many times before, but all too long ago.

Nevertheless, he still finds a way to frown at the words. "I'm not cute," he retorts, "I'm hot and manly as hell."

That gets an even bigger reaction out of Jimin, the slight curve of his lips from before now turning into a full on grin and lighting up his face, and entire body shaking with laughter. "You haven't changed at all."

"I have too! Wait," Jungkook's frown deepens, "what do you mean?"

"Oh, uh—" Jimin suddenly freezes, staring back at him blankly. "You mentioned that you'd complain whenever I called you cute. So I guess that much is still the same." The smile is gone now and Jungkook finds himself missing it already.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess."

Jungkook had probably been too worried and sleep deprived over the past few days. Perhaps that's why he doesn't recall having told Jimin anything about that at all.

~~~

"Tell me about how you proposed."

That makes him freeze in his steps, glancing over suspiciously at the man lying in the bed. "What makes you think I was the one that proposed?"

Jimin giggles, "Because you're super hot and manly as hell?"

"Please don't." Jungkook stifles a groan. "Okay, fine. Yes, I was the one who proposed."

"Why does it seem like you did something embarrassing?"

"I--" He gives Jimin a dull look. "Hey, you were the one who ruined it for me, okay?"

Like with everything that Jungkook thought he had under control, some things were bound to go very, very wrong. Why he expected the proposal to go perfectly smoothly, he would never know.

Skating. He knew how to skate perfectly well and even knew how to do a couple of easy jumps. So it should've been fine to have a skating date on actual ice, on some special winter date close to when they first started dating. Theoretically.

It'd been a while since they spent a whole day together, but it was nearly Christmas and somehow, he had the feeling that it was the right time. Long past them were the days of university, and now with adult life in full swing, they were both very occupied and barely got to see each other.

But it hadn't happened as he planned. Jungkook had made a reservation at the restaurant on the top floor of the fancy hotel with the best view in the city. It would've been dim inside, two candles lighting up their table that would've cast a soft glow on Jimin's face, making him look even more radiant than usual. There'd be lovely jazz music coming from the live piano player on one side, while a giant pane of glass spanned their other side, showing off the dots of light throughout the city like blinking stars in the sky.

His heart would've been pounding so loudly that it was the only thing he could hear, and when the piano player paused in the middle of the sonata at its height, Jungkook would try not to shake as he knelt down and took out the small box in his pocket.

The small box which somehow contained the very item that would bring them together, a symbol of their future, of their memories.

The very box that had actually slipped out of his pocket as he took a vicious tumble on the ice over the toe picks of his figure skates.

"Aren't you like...afraid of falling?" Jimin had asked him warily while holding onto the boards at the sides, while Jungkook was skating around, trying to show off. "The ice looks so painful to fall on."

"Not when you don't fall." Jungkook had smirked, skating really close to Jimin to scare him before pulling a quick side stop and purposely spraying shreds of ice at his poor boyfriend.

"Yah, Jungkook," Jimin shot him a dark look, "just watch, you're going to fall and I'll be the one laughing when you do."

"But hey, then I could just say I fell for you." He winked before leaving for another few laps of fast and furious skating.

When he finished lapping Jimin all too many times and circled back to find him, that's when it had happened. Maybe his thoughts about asking Jimin to marry him were completely tuning out his other abilities, or seeing Jimin so helplessly trying to skate brought a sudden rush of warmth, but something clearly happened and his damned toe pick had decided right then and there to trip him.

He took quite the tumble, travelling so far as he tried so desperately to prevent the fall but to only stumble down again, that he'd ended up right in front of Jimin. The box lay by his skate when he saw it, and to stop Jimin from seeing it, he made a quick turn using the last of his momentum and spun to pick it up.

But judging by the look of pure terror on Jimin's face, he'd already seen it and it was too late. Jungkook was forced to play it out, and since he was already on the ground in front of Jimin, he decided to do the thing.

Propping one knee up, he'd shoved the box up at him and prayed that its contents didn't somehow fall out.

"Ahem," he'd cleared his throat, trying to swallow down the anxiety. "Um, I guess you could say I did fall for you." The speech he'd prepared was completely vanished from his mind at this point and he was just going with whatever he could think of. Trying to make it as smooth as possible. "But maybe at some point, you'd fallen for me too. Maybe it's better when we fall together. The point is that we'll always be there to catch each other, to help each other get off of the ground, and to know that even when we fall, we fall together and never apart."

He snuck a glance at Jimin's reaction to see him covering the bottom part of his face with one hand, the other still clutching onto the boards for dear life. His eyes seemed to be curved up into the familiar looking smile that Jungkook could recognize anywhere, and it gave him courage to proceed.

"With that being said, will you be my wife?"

Jungkook could've pulled it off perfectly fine but that last line just had to ruin it all.

He hadn't realized right away what he had said, and apparently Jimin hadn't either at first. It wasn't until someone in the distance shouted be his wife! really loudly that finally pulled them out of their moment. And Jungkook didn't think he could ever live this down.

"Your wife, not your husband?" Jimin had asked, fiercely blushing cheeks peeking out from between his fingers.

"I--" Jungkook bit down on his lip, frantically searching for something to say. "You can be anything you want, Jimin. Just please be mine."

"Okay," he removed his hand, letting Jungkook take it and fumble with the ring nervously until it finally slipped on nicely.

They hadn't even noticed the surrounding crowd until the roar of applause snapped them out of it.

They went to the fancy dinner that night as fiancés.

Jungkook trails off after his last sentence, wanting to hide his face but also wanting to gauge Jimin's reaction as he listens to the story. The man on the hospital bed seems to be mildly amused, a soft smile across his lips and eyes sparkling.

"Jungkook," he says quietly.

"Hmm?"

"I think...I can see why I fell for you."

That makes Jungkook's breath hitch as his heart thumps hard in his chest and a bubble of hope manages to appear.

"You make me wish I could have my memories back and enjoy them too."

Jungkook forces a tight smile, dry lips nearly splitting at the action "It's probably better that you don't have them back," he murmurs a bit too loudly under his breath.

"Why not?" Jimin blinks slowly. "Did something happen to us, Jungkook?"

He blanches for a second, mind reeling for a response since he'd expected Jimin to laugh it off and give another teasing smile or something. But he'd caught onto his words instead. "No, it's so I can continue teasing you about all the cheesy things you've done and you can't say anything about it."

"Hmm, okay, I'll believe you." A crack of a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Because I really hope nothing happened to us."

"Me too," Jungkook replies with a bittersweet smile.

~~~

"Taehyung, did you tell him we were married?"

The weekend has finally arrived and Jungkook's friend sits on the couch, watching a rerun on some anime on TV while eating what leftover ice cream they had in the fridge. Jungkook was cleaning up the house because he'd had enough of this mess, and not because he was hoping to impress Jimin someday when he returns. If he returns at all.

But as he was remembering the details of his conversation with Jimin yesterday, there was another detail that he remembered and it sounded out of place for some reason.

Taehyung doesn't even look away from his show. "Nah, I thought you didn't want me to?"

"Oh hmm." Jungkook picks up another dish to dry it before setting it back in the cupboard. "It's just strange because I thought I'd told him that we were just dating, but yesterday he asked about the proposal."

"He—wait what?" Now Taehyung finally looks up from the show, a spoon full of ice cream held in midair.

"Do you think he's getting more of his memories back?"

"Wait—oh!" The ice cream falls on his lap when he goes to face-palm himself but he doesn't seem to notice, and Jungkook stifles a laugh. "Y-yeah, it must've slipped out when I was talking to him the day before. Sorry about that." A shrug before he goes to put the empty spoon in his mouth.

Jungkook stops halfway through drying the plate in his hands. It just didn't seem to add up because everything flowed so nicely yesterday and he hadn't even noticed that he should've been hiding the whole marriage part if he'd wanted to stick to his original plan. "Okay. It's just that he didn't seem too surprised by it, that's all."

"He's not, Jungkook. Can't you tell? He's already in love with you again."

But you cannot love something you do not remember.

~~~

Days pass and Jungkook barely even registers the exhaustion setting in his body from all of this.

He doesn't even realize he's fallen asleep while still at the hospital until he's awakened by the loud sound of his ringtone blasting through the silence of the room. Jungkook tries to rub the sleep from his eyes as he reaches blindly for his phone, quickly picking up without bothering to check the number so that it doesn't wake Jimin too.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Jeon? It's Mr. Kim calling from the law firm." Oh. "I'm just calling to inform you that your case date has been moved up, so the divorce can be finalized by as early as next week, if all of your documents are ready to go."

"Um..." Jungkook blinks, letting the words sink in, "wait, next week?"

"Yes, you're fortunate enough to have some cancellations from the cases ahead of you, so yours has been pushed up. Did you get a chance go through all of the documents?"

"Sorry, um, n-not yet," he answers, the lie stumbling off his tongue as he felt his stomach drop. He had finished reading everything, trying to prepare himself, yet the lines where signatures were supposed to be still remained blank. Jungkook heaves a sigh. "I just...I need a bit more time."

"You have the rest of the week. Is that enough?"

"I'll try my best." He hangs up then turns to see Jimin watching him carefully despite the sleep clearly written on his face, a worried expression hanging in the air.

"Was that something important?"

"No," Jungkook puts on a weak smile, tossing his phone aside. "Don't worry about it."

He was running out of time.

~~~

"Did we ever fight?" Jimin asks meekly, clear eyes gazing at him with a sort of hindered curiosity. Like he wants to know but is afraid of what Jungkook might have to say. So that was his question for today. It might explain why he was a little hesitant when Jungkook came in.

Jungkook decides to put on a sort of grin, shaking his head slowly. "Nah, we would never." He tries for an even brighter expression. "We got along too well for that."

A sigh slips out quietly and a slight smile appears on Jimin's face as well. "Hmm that's good."

Just in case it wasn't convincing enough, Jungkook carries on with the lie. "Well we were pretty similar so there wasn't much to dispute in the first place, and..." he pauses to think for a moment, "even if we did fight, I'd think that it wouldn't be too bad because at least it'd still be with you."

Jimin nods, chewing on his bottom lip and looking mildly uncomfortable. "Really?"

"Anything was fine when it was with you." Jungkook confesses, getting ready to share another memory of the good days in the past.

No, he would never reveal to Jimin how bad their fights got.

Still fresh in his head was one of the worst arguments that acted as a catalyst for this chain of events, one he'd probably never forget because of the way everything had built up then fallen apart so easily.

He'd just gotten home from a long day at work, wanting nothing more than to drop everything and relax for a bit. That came in the form of gaming and so he'd logged into his League of Legends account and called up a couple of his friends for a few rounds.

He hadn't even noticed the time until the click of the door sounded, and Jimin was home.

"How long have you been sitting there? Have you been gaming the whole day?" The frown in Jimin's voice was audible and Jungkook wanted nothing more than to just ignore him and finish his game. They were already losing and this wasn't going to help their team at all.

"Well you're never home so I guess you wouldn't know." Jungkook said sarcastically to the point where he could even hear the venom laced in his own voice.

A tired sigh slipped out. "Jungkook, I have things to do. I'm busy enough as it is and it's all so stressful."

"And then you go out with your work friend every time."Like I don't even exist. Thinking about all of this again just got him more and more riled up. It was the same thing every time, but he couldn't help the sharp tinge of jealousy that was always just beneath the surface, resting there, hurting.

"He's just a friend, and you're the one who said you didn't mind who I hung out with so how am I supposed to know you'd care so much about it now?"

Jungkook could see the way he got Jimin worked up and it almost felt like a victory. But Jimin's tone was defensive and maybe that only made him even more annoyed than before.

"What, a friend that you spend more time with than your own husband?" He sneered.

Jimin rolled his eyes. "Are you being jealous right now? Not this again."

And he was ready. He saw it coming from miles away and knew exactly how this was supposed to play out. "See that's the thing—you never want to talk about it."

"What good will it bring if we're just going to keep fighting over this? I didn't marry you so that we could do this every day."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have."

Only when the stillness hit was when he realized that he said the absolute worst thing he could've said. This wasn't something that ever came up in their arguments. It'd slipped out without him realizing it, and when the response of stop, you don't mean that never came and Jimin's initial shock changed into something darker, that's when he knew it was too late, that he couldn't just take back this mistake.

"Maybe I shouldn't have." Jimin said it quietly, but there it was. It almost seemed too loud in the silence of the room, the one line that cut through the muddled thoughts and any feelings buzzing in Jungkook's mind and seemed to pierce his heart.

Jimin stared at him, eyes unreadable, but Jungkook knew he was waiting, hanging on to the slice of hope that there'd be some retort, some kind of apology or admission of regret. Yet Jungkook chose to stay silent, pursing his lips.

Because even though it hurt so much, maybe it was better this way. It was clear to both of them that this couldn't go on, and replaying through the same cycle over and over would only crumble the remaining of what they had.

That's when Jimin left and never returned for the night.

~~~

"There's something I wanted to ask you. Because they never exactly told me..." Jimin starts then trails off, gaze avoiding Jungkook's. He looks extremely nervous and Jungkook has a feeling what he's about to ask, but wonders why he'd be so afraid of asking.

"Told you what?"

"How the accident happened."

"Oh."

That was the other thing Jungkook could never tell him.

Maybe the first couple of times they fight it's nothing, just another habit, another small action that would mean nothing more than a mere second passing through their infinity. Maybe it was even nice because it was endearing how Jimin would comfort him afterwards and make sure that he knew everything was fine, that he would always be there. That Jungkook would always be the only one. How their vast infinity was in no way comparable to the fleeting moments spent elsewhere.

But maybe it was the summation of small seconds that leads to infinity.

Somehow the small habits, the quirks, the meanings that at one point had meant the world, became the exact things that spurred the anger and annoyance.

Not the hatred, though. Never the hatred. It's funny how it never turns into hatred, but instead, it becomes the weapons that pierce through the heart. And despite how much he tried to convince himself, there was nothing that was able to make him hate Jimin.

It got to the point where he didn't even look forward to going home because that meant there'd probably be another fight or something; a million and one reasons to make his heart ache and his stomach feel heavy.

Jungkook remembers what happened that day to the very last detail, and it'd probably be ingrained in his mind forever—is that what a flashbulb memory was? He remembers that on the day of the accident, he had gotten off of work as usual and maybe he should've been happy about the fact that Jimin wouldn't be home until a bit later, but his mind was already drowning in the dread of yet another fight with his husband. Even in their last days together, it seemed like every little thing instigated some sort of dispute, always spiralling into the same conclusion that lay in the form of a stack of legal documents. Divorce papers.

Maybe he'd purposely left the spill on the stairs. Maybe he'd been petty and just wanted Jimin to complain about something else.

Maybe it seemed like the fights provided the only opportunity for the two to even see each other at all and remained the only sign that he hadn't lost Jimin completely yet.

But what he hadn't foreseen was that that very spill would cause a fall down the stairs, a concussion, and possible damage to some area of the brain that he overheard the doctors talk about—something that started with "hippo"; he hadn't known what that meant.

He hadn't known that this would take Jimin farther away from him than any argument would have.

Jungkook sighs, fidgeting with Jimin's fingers. "You slipped... I'm sorry I wasn't there with you."

"But you're here now." Somehow, Jimin doesn't persist with asking for any more details. But the smallest of smiles that appeared on his lips fills Jungkook's heart with hope.

~~~

"What?" Jungkook narrows his eyes at the sight of Jimin biting his bottom lip, expression looking like a blend between relief, excitement, and guilt...?

"Jungkook, I'm getting discharged tomorrow."

"Oh." His mind completely blanks for a second. Belatedly, he puts on a wide grin. "Oh. That's great! You finally get to leave this disgusting hospital food behind."

"Yeah," Jimin lets out quietly. There's the tiniest of smiles resting on his lips and he fiddles with his sheets again.

Jungkook stands at the door awkwardly, unsure of what to do now that his mind was reeling from the news. He hadn't planned this far at all. "Um, I'm just going to step outside for a second. Forgot something." He smiles. "Will be right back!"

He leaves before Jimin could say anything but that doesn't stop him from noticing the sad look on the man's face.

Then Jungkook walks straight into someone.

"Mfgh—"

"Sorry!" Then Jungkook realizes who it was. The all-black attire with pale blonde hair definitely wasn't something you would miss. "Wait, Yoongi?"

"Oh it's you." There's a frown on Yoongi's face. Naturally. "Are you done visiting him?"

"No—I just—"

But then Jungkook suddenly remembers something. Just before the accident, Jimin had gone back to his own apartment for a couple of nights to clean it and get ready to move back. Jungkook distinctly remembered him carrying that dreaded manila envelope as he walked out the door without looking back.

Which meant those divorce papers were probably still sitting in Jimin's apartment somewhere, already signed and ready to go.

So now he has to make sure that Jimin doesn't see them when he gets released from the hospital and went back to living there. Because he can't know.

And Yoongi, being almost like Jimin's older brother, was the one who happened to keep the keys this whole time.

"Yoongi..." he starts.

"What do you want?"

"Do you have the key to Jimin's old apartment?"

"Maybe." Yoongi narrows his eyes. "Why do you care?"

"Can I please borrow it for like a couple of hours?"

"No," he deadpans. "What are you even planning on doing?"

"I just—I want to help him clean it before he goes back."

"Stop lying, kid." A flat stare that seems to go through Jungkook's soul. "You're there for the papers, aren't you?" Yoongi pauses. "And maybe the ring too."

"Yoongi, please," Jungkook begs, voice pleading and already teetering off the edge of sounding desperate. "Just let me do this."

"Jungkook, you know you have no right going there." The older man responds, giving him a sharp glance.

And it was true. The place was Jimin's apartment from before and he'd kept it all these years as an investment, he claimed. But Jungkook couldn't just give up when he's already making some sort of progress. "I-I just need to make sure that he doesn't see them. Not until he's all better and recovers his memories or..." he hesitates, "wants to make a decision."

Yoongi sighs, tugging the short strands of his hair. "You're going to be pretty persistent about this, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay fine, but give it back right after."

Jungkook opens his mouth, ready for another plead or dispute because there was no way it'd be so easy. But he stops dead at Yoongi's words. "Thanks, you're the best."

He only gets a scoff in response but the ice in Yoongi's gaze is no longer there.

~~~

His hands are shaking as he takes multiple attempts at opening the door. He doesn't know what to expect but he mentally prepares himself for the worst. The papers must already be signed, stamped or whatever, maybe sealed. The settlements would be ready to go and Jungkook's stuff would be packed up in a box by the door, to be returned to him or thrown out or burned. He would be ready to end this chapter of life and move onto the next.

But when Jungkook finally opens the door, he doesn't expect to see such a mess. There are clothes strewed across the room, stuff on the floor, and dirty dishes in the sink. Empty bottles. It was almost terrifying how different the place looked from when he'd last been there.

One thing was what he expected, though. The manila envelope holding the contents that would break them apart forever sits on the table, seemingly untouched. Jungkook picks it up, trying to quickly stuff it into his bag so he would never have to look at such a painful thing, but that's when he notices the small pieces of paper falling out of the envelope.

The papers had been ripped. Slashed. Broken apart into hundreds of pieces that floated towards the ground as he dumps the contents.

~~~

"Tae, I don't know if I can do this anymore." Jungkook sighs heavily, digging his fingers into his temples.

He'd been dreading the day that Jimin would get discharged from the hospital. Because if he was there, then at least Jungkook could ensure that he visited him every day, but now that he was back to his own apartment, there was no say in when Jungkook would see him next. Two days had passed without a trace of a message or text from Jimin, and it felt like he was slipping away forever. How was he ever supposed to make up for so much lost time? What about all the memories of the years they'd spent together?

Jungkook had wanted to reset, to somehow start everything over, but not like this. Not when all he could do was try to hold tightly onto the shattered pieces of Jimin's melodic laughter and bright smiles and soft touches that seem to slip through his grasp day by day. Late at night he'd sometimes find himself wishing that he'd be the one to lose all of this instead and be free from the past that was haunting him in the present.

"What?" Taehyung frowns at him. "But you still love him, and he loves you even more. You don't just give up on that, Jungkook."

"There's just no winning in this, Tae. Even if he does, what would that make of us? Are we even anything anymore?"

"Does it matter what you two are? You guys of all people should know that there's no need to stick on labels so fast." Taehyung pauses to give Jungkook a light shove. "Don't give up. Something good will come out of it." A smirk. "Besides, I didn't hook you guys up for nothing."

"Please don't mention that ever again." Jungkook shoves him back.

~~~

The deadline was tomorrow. The papers were all read through and the only thing left to do was sign his name on the final blank line on the last page.

He left it blank.

The papers stayed in the yellow envelope in his bag.

~~~

Something good will come out of it.

Those words echo in Jungkook's mind as he stares at the message on his phone.

Jiminnie~<3: Cafe like old times, space hub?

For someone who lost his memories, Jimin sure has a very good memory of the things that Jungkook had told him over the past week.

Jungkook: Sure thing, hubble

They meet at the local cafe that they'd been frequenting ever since they were caffeine junkies in university. It's bright outside with the brilliant sunshine that had been hiding behind thick layers of clouds all winter, and Jungkook even decides to walk an extra block instead of driving. Mainly because he didn't think he could handle it if anything goes awry at their meeting.

The coffee shop is quiet and mostly empty, with only a couple of students taking up the tables at the sides with their laptops ready to work. Jimin greets him with a wave and a smile from where he sits at a small round table in the corner by the window overlooking the street. He could pretend that it was just like their college days, and that the hard thudding of his heart was from the nerves that came with liking someone—not this.

Not too far into their date, Jungkook could notice that Jimin seems oddly anxious today, only responding with shy smiles and soft chuckles or the occasional comment here and there. He isn't as teasing as he'd been earlier in the week and Jungkook knew that something was off, and it just made him more nervous than he already was. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body as he sat tensely, mind constantly spiralling into possibilities about the worst that could happen.

"There's something I wanted to tell you," Jimin starts, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie.

"I'm listening." Jungkook stares intently, trying to carefully read the brunette's expressions as he'd done so many times in the past. It shouldn't be difficult, but he isn't sure if he could read him so easily anymore when this version of Jimin was different—

"I'm sorry."

"Wait, what?"

"For lying." Jimin lowers his gaze, biting into his lower lip. "Or well, it wasn't all lying but I guess I haven't been entirely truthful either."

"What are you talking about?" Jungkook's pulse accelerates, skipping nervously in his chest. His hands are sweaty and his stomach twists with each word coming out of Jimin's mouth.

"Jungkook." He puts his hands on the table. That's when Jungkook noticed it. The glimmering band that sits just at the base of his ring finger on his left hand, reflecting the ambient light in all directions.

Their wedding ring.

"Jungkook, I don't actually have retrograde amnesia."

"What?" He could only stare. "What do you mean... did you get your memories back? Or what, were you pretending this entire time?" It comes out sarcastic, rhetorical, but judging by the look on Jimin's face, he's dead on.

This is it. It would definitely end here, and the past week was just some sort of cruel goodbye that served as a cold reminder of what they once had. Jimin had never really forgotten and just wanted something to ease him from this rough period and—

"No! It was real for like the first couple of days; I really did lose my memories at the time. But then... everything just came back to me really quickly, as if they were never gone in the first place."Jimin frowns."Maybe it was just temporary—I don't really know either."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier then? I was worried out of my mind."

"Because, I-I—" He stops and heaves a sigh. "Because it was actually nice being like that for a while. It was like a flashback to when we first met, when we didn't have all these worries to deal with."

"Do you even know how hard it was?"

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It was hard for me too—you don't know how much I just wanted to stop all of this," he purses his lips, dropping the volume of his voice. "It was already difficult enough trying to keep up with the pretending—I'm sure you noticed the discrepancies—and it hurt me to see you hurt like that. But Tae said to keep going because it was actually bringing us together again. And that's all I really wanted."

The ripped up divorce papers. The wedding ring. Thinking back, there was even the old nickname, "space hub", that he realized he couldn't have told Jimin about within the past week. It slowly started to add up in some strange, twisted way.

"What do you mean?"

"I never wanted it to end." Jimin's words come out slowly, eyes shifting slightly but never leaving Jungkook's gaze for too long. "Maybe we just needed a bit of space or some time to sort everything out, but I know that I would never really stop loving you."

"Jimin..."

"And I know this whole situation right now isn't even close to being a solution of any sort, but after recovering my memories, I realized what a huge chunk of my life had been missing, only because I had no memory of you and of us. Maybe we've both changed through the years but doesn't that give us more room to fall back together? To be able to keep improving together and supporting each other through all of these changes and constantly learn more about each other. I...guess you could say that fall was meant to happen because it literally made me fall for you again." He stops, fiddling with the ring on his finger, but when Jimin looks up again, his eyes were sincere, genuine. "So, maybe... do you think we can give this another chance?"

Jungkook doesn't trust himself to speak with how constricted his throat feels. "Jimin, you know I never wanted things to end either. You've been such a big part of my life already that I don't think I'd know how to live without you..." he pauses to clear his voice. "I can't believe I actually hoped you wouldn't recover your memories. So you wouldn't know about the things that led up to the accident, and then maybe there'd be some sort of alternate universe where there were only happy memories of the two of us. Like that would be a solution to our problems or something."

Jimin stays silent, nodding slowly.

"And then when the accident happened, I just—" A deep breath. "I lied to you and hid everything only because I was so afraid of losing you and I knew I would never forgive myself if anything happened. Even now... I'm so sorry, Jimin. For everything."

"Don't be." Jimin smiles softly, a bittersweet expression on his face. "What matters is that we're aware of this now, so we'll work harder to resolve any problems or misunderstandings, right?"

"Yeah." He's a little dizzy and the words fly over his head, but Jimin's smile grounds him and the light brush of their knees sends his stomach into a frenzy.

Jungkook wants to reach across the table and hold his hand or simply feel his touch to know that this was real. That it wasn't some sort of dream that he'd held onto for far too long and never ended well. But he decides against it, for the shimmer on Jimin's ring reminds him that his own is not on his finger, and hadn't been there since a long while before the accident. He'd placed it somewhere, telling everyone else that rings were dumb because they're just a harbouring ground for bacteria and another place to get an odd tan line, when his heart knew the truth all too well.

But to his astonishment, Jimin slowly gets out of his seat and goes to kneel down in front of Jungkook. A ring sits in his palm, the same silver band still as shiny as ever. It was his ring.

"Stay with me?"

And if this was like another proposal, Jungkook would've said that it was even better than the first one. There was none of the fancy dinner in suits, expensive views and romantic music in the background. There was no showing off cool tricks on ice, no crowd to witness them and applaud them in celebration. This was casual clothes, messy hair tossed by the wind, and a cheap caffeine fix that they'd gotten since the days they first met. This was typical cafe music, the sound of clicking laptop keyboards as businessmen worked and students crammed, and the stillness of no one caring what was going on in the outside world.

This was them. True, and in its rawest form.

And staying true to himself, Jungkook brings back a memory from the first time."Of course. I'll still be your wife, Jimin."

Jimin slips the ring on his finger, bursting out in laughter. "Even when you're old and wrinkly and not hot as hell anymore?"

"Yah, I'll still be hot even when I'm--"

And then his heart was racing, cheeks heating, and palms all sweaty just like the first time when Jimin closes the distance.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and drowns in the sinking warmth pulling him under as his lips slide so perfectly between Jimin's and there's so much pressure in his chest that he feels like it would explode. A million sparks and a thousand tingling flames spreading and overwhelming him until the pain and yearning simultaneously numbs and becomes so salient he can't breathe. There's too much and never enough. A sweet lingering taste of mocha that can't quite mask Jimin's natural scent and Jungkook takes it all in eagerly, trying to piece back each broken piece of the shattered memories. Fingers run through soft hair and knees bump and Jungkook's hands shake with the multitude of sensations. And what words cannot say is shown in the clarity of Jimin's gentle touches and suddenly the void was being stitched back together, piece by piece, time turning back and a reaction reversing, and the run of infinity looping back to the beginning.

Reset. It's what he had wanted.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that," Jimin says breathlessly, caressing Jungkook's cheek.

"I would've done it back at the hospital but we were still strangers." He couldn't even pout, still staring at his husband's face, unable to look away.

"Ah, we shouldn't even be doing that here..." Jimin's cheeks visibly redden as he slides back into his seat. Never letting go of Jungkook's hand."We have plenty of time."

"Yeah," he manages to get out, still feeling lightheaded.

"Also, I was just slightly disappointed you didn't tell me we were married. Or, I don't know, you could've told a more interesting story. Like, boyfriends? Really, Jungkook?"

"What kind of interesting story did you want?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow. "I'm a vampire who accidentally turned you and now you're waking up as one? Or maybe you were in an experiment and had your body frozen all of these years and so you're waking up in another century and I'm the hero saving you?"

Jimin laughs fully, leaning back in his chair. "I was thinking more like we were in some crazy love triangle but after my memories were wiped, I'd forgotten about my crush and you got your chance at wooing me."

"Hey! Are you trying to suggest there's someone else right now?"

There's a teasing smile and a playful twinkle in Jimin's eyes. "No. You know there's only you. And even if it was some drama-like alternate universe, I'd still fall for you every time."

"You're the one who thought we were hooking up," Jungkook scoffs jokingly. "I know I'm hot and all, but I'm not the playboy who didn't believe in love."

"Oh stop, you're going to make me regret this," Jimin grins.

And then falling back together became as easy as it'd been falling for each other in the first place.

#jikook #jimin x jungkook #kookmin #jikook fic #bts #one shot #jigguk #jimin #jungkook #angst #crack #fluff #it's been so long i've forgotten how to tag #will put on ao3 eventuallyyy #the amount of physics and psych references o m g srry i'm 200% nerd

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essayofthoughts · 8 years ago

Note

For the headcanons: Wanda, Pietro, Clint, and Natasha! (because I'm predictable af and also i want to see what different ones we come up with for the twins! :D

send me a character and i’ll tell you:

Wanda Maximoff

1. 2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod

I can’t say exactly? But probably something like Ammunition by Aviators, a song about protests and how, when you have no weapons, you are the weapon, the ammunition against those who would oppress you. The song is in English, so I imagine Wanda has a similar song in Sokovian.

… Okay, I may just give in and be Aviators trash, because my next two suggestions of things that Wanda might have on her iPod are again, things like Aviators songs. Namely, Bulletproof, the importance of ideals and continuing those in the face of those who would crush you down, because you might fight and you might die, but the ideas and ideals you’re fighting for, the desire for freedom and for justice you yearn for is something bulletproof, that cannot be killed.

The next one is for after the experiments, Aviators’ We Are Not Machines, a rising denial in the face of someone trying to turn you into a tool, a refusal to be what someone else makes you - not a weapon in their hands, but a weapon in your own hands, of your own choices and not some simple input-output machine - for you are a person, not a machine. I imagine that a song like this would also gain additional meaning to Wanda on meeting Ultron and on meeting Vision - Ultron who is constantly fighting against what he was made to be and in doing so, allowing that to shape him, and Vision, who knows how he was made and what he was made to be and yet is simply… not. Is simply his own. Is, because of all of this, not a machine.

Last song… hmm. IAMX, My Secret Friend. U will understand Nell. U will understand.

2. the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to

Less, “Not supposed to” and more “others frown at it”, Wanda often falls asleep against her brother, sitting beside Pietro and just tilting her head to his shoulder and sleeping, or after nightmares when he comes to see if she’s ok, falling asleep in the comfort of a hug.

After he’s gone, Wanda falls asleep in the shower, the warm water and the noise dulling the grief of her mind and giving the illusion of a warm presence. Vision finds her like this, some late evenings.

3. the game they’d destroy everyone else at

Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever

Wanda has no fear because Pietro has always been there to protect her, and even when he isn’t anymore the lingering strength and certainty it gives her, the fact she has had that strength to fall back on all her life and yet often tried not to in order to keep Pietro safe and well means she has a confidence in-and-of herself that means she’s unafraid of a lot. Also, living on the streets kind of means she takes a practical view of a lot of things.

And then for the truth aspects - Wanda can tell when people are telling the truth with her powers and I imagine that even before the powers she had a knack for reading people and understanding them in a way Pietro always lacked. In turn, I imagine Wanda has a knack for telling almost-truths, that are truth enough that people will take them as truth, but that allow her to hide things she doesn’t want to talk about extensively.

This would make her rather hard to provide counselling for, I fear, as well as the fact that I don’t think she’d trust anyone enough to talk about even the least of her issues with.

4. the emoticon they’d use most often

That depends on who she’s messaging and when. Usually it’s just “frownyface” but Stark occasionally gets a middle finger emoticon (and if one doesn’t exist I would point out that with the Avengers she’d probably use a Starkphone and if Tony Stark designed it then it 100% has a middle finger emoticon. Because Tony Stark Would).

5. what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

If just “without sleep” then quietly grumpy, somewhat bitchy (very bitchy, according to Pietro but he thinks it’s amusing) eventually tapering off to just conking out wherever is comfortable enough.

If caffeinated and sleepless: very very giggly, Laughing at the oddest jokes the weirdest puns and also things that are not jokes or puns but that are, to her sleep-deprived brain, very amusing.

6. their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.

Tea. Herbal tea, black tea, green tea. She uses chamomile, mint and lavender for headaches, spiced black tea with a lot of milk to wake up, green tea when she needs to think. She’ll drink coffee if she has to, for the sake of pure biting caffeine and also because the taste is so foul it always wakes her (no matter how much sugar she adds and she finds this infuriating), but her fallback is always tea.

7. how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

Before the events of AOU she’d curl up beside Pietro and talk to him about whatever it is happens to be niggling inside her brain, whatever is worrying her and making her doubt and loose sight of their goals and Pietro would pull her from it and pull her into a hug and possibly go off and “find” her some chocolate (whether he found it or stole it depends on how much money they had at the time and how much he cared about “stealing will get you killed Pietro”. The worse off Wanda seemed the less he cared about the latter).

After the events of AOU, she curls up in her room or in her chair or at the bottom of the shower and tries not to get lost in the twisting grieving paths of her own mind. Sometimes Vision finds her and says something so wholly unexpected it makes her laugh and consider and pulls her from it. Other times Steve alerts Clint who proceeds to drop by and go “right, come on, holiday time. The kids are begging me for a barbecue and no one knows how to make that sauce for the lamb skewers like you do” and drag her off to the farm. Lila and Coop and little Nathaniel Pietro Barton pull her from her slump more quickly than anything.

8. what they wanted to be when they grew up

Free. Safe. Well. Secure. With Pietro. With their vengeance completed. In Sokovia.

And now Sokovia’s capital is a hole in the ground because of her actions, their vengeance has been shed in the face of a bigger threat, Pietro is gone, and any hopes of safety and security and freedom and wellbeing were stolen from her with the Accords and the Raft.

9. their favorite kind of weather

When you are high up enough in the mountains, or ringed by them, the sky can be clear and yet you are shaded, and though it is sunny it is softly cool.

When the weather is this mess of contradictions it reminds her of Sokovia, of Novi Grad, of home, and sometimes she needs that.

10. thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

She can sing and sings softly, she sang lullabies on those rare occasions Pietro had nightmares and woke her, she sings lullabies to Lila and to Cooper and to Nathaniel Pietro Barton when he is fractious, and she sings them in soft Sokovian, so softly that only Vision can really hear all of the words.

She can sing louder, but too often she has had to sing quietly unless she be found by those who would do her harm.

11. how/what they like to draw or doodle

Wanda can’t draw much. Oddly enough Pietro can, and after his death, Wanda doesn’t dare try for the rising, grieving memories of her brother.

Pietro Maximoff

1. 2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod

So uhh… I’m gonna give in and pick Aviators songs like songs Pietro would have liked if they were in Sokovian.

First of all, Lowborn by Aviators - the hope of rising against impossible odds, of even those at the bottom finally getting recognition and all that they have earned. I mean. “Honor means nothing when war is unfair/ We’ve come here to battle and return to nowhere” and “I’ve nothing to lose, with no debts left to pay” and “The gods have not listened /Though prayers turned to cold-blooded screams” and “Vengeance igniting the fire in my blood” I mean. Goddamn Aviators.

In many ways, Pietro is the more cynical of the twins - he’s had to be, to keep Wanda safe, and so the next song is Aviators’ Welcome to Paradise, which has a lovely thread of “oh, you thought there was hope here?” throughout. I mean. “A wishful thought won’t take you far/ When hell on earth is where you are”and “Our lives are on the line/ In ruins we strive/ We’ll never thrive/ Without the will to survive”. Goddamn Aviators.

Next, This Means War by Aviators. Which is a song they wrote specifically for AOU. I am horrendously predictable. The song is a rush of fighting and having to fight and “a world worth fighting for” and my gods. It’s Pietro racing and the entire Battle of Novi Grad.

Lastly, Diamonds and Guns by The Transplants. I don’t know why, but this song has always felt rather Pietro to me.

2. the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to

Um. Pietro is a hard case to judge because well… Look do you honestly think he’s going to sleep if he has to watch over Wanda. He sleeps when exhausted or when Wanda makes him, so the place he falls asleep when he’s not supposed to is like for half an hour outside the backdoors of the Bakers and the Butchers who he runs deliveries for. The managers open the door and hear a thump as Pietro falls over because the door is gone.

3. the game they’d destroy everyone else at

It. Obviously. Even before his powers he was fast, and with his powers he is uncatchable. And, with his speed, he can search and find you in a fraction of the time it would take you to find him and once you’re it good luck catching him. Your best bet is waiting for him to fall asleep and we all know how he is about that ^^.

4. the emoticon they’d use most often

In Sokovia he never really had a phone and so had no use for them. Then he died.

If he was still around, however, probably the built in “middle finger” emoticon that all Starkphones come with as standard. That said, he does make use of that one Japanese emoticon - ✿＼(｡-_-｡) (“i got your flower”) - whenever Wanda wants to go and fight someone. It is saved in his phone for regular use.

5. what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

He never has enough sleep. He sleeps in fits and starts and has done this for so long that he’s functional. The question is What does he act like when he has had enough sleep.

The answer? Like a… mostly normal person, actually. Not reckless, not (quite) as ADHD. I say mostly, however, because he won’t have had enough sleep for long - his dedication to Wanda’s safety makes sure of that.

6. their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.

Not a hot drink! Pietro prefers orange juice, no matter what. He does exercise when he wants to warm up, as he always has the energy for it.

7. how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

Pietro is rarely in a slump; he has his focus on keeping Wanda safe and so he subsumes just about everything to this one purpose, no slump lasts long when he has the eternal focus of making sure Wanda is safe, that they have enough food and a place to sleep that night, and can get to their jobs in the morning and survive each protest with minimal police brutality.

The only time Pietro is in a slump is when he fails to protect Wanda, and that rapidly turns into guilt and a desire for vengeance (“I’ll kill him”) which is only tempered by Wanda (“No, no, I’m all right. I want to finish the job.”) who is the only one who can redirect him when he’s like this.

Pietro comforts himself by taking care of Wanda.

8. what they wanted to be when they grew up

Safe, Happy, with Wanda and with their vengeance completed. In Sokovia.

He dies before he can see any part of this, and gives up on vengeance in the doing so.

9. their favorite kind of weather

Rain. While Wanda likes the bright-shade sunny-cool of the mountains, Pietro likes the rain and the snow, but mostly rain because he finds it so so refreshing.

Also it makes Wanda laugh when he shakes his hair to try to get the worst of the water out.

10. thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

He can sing, but only does so for Wanda. Mostly old Sokovian lullabies.

11. how/what they like to draw or doodle

Draws kind of mechanically - not for artistic reasons but so he can have a visual representation of something. While Pietro’s memory is fantastic, he trusts Wanda’s recollection of things more than his own because Wanda will read things in the behaviours of other people that he’ll miss. So, instead, he draws out scenarios and situations from memory so Wanda can name the ones they know and tell him what each was thinking and who they’ll need to be wary of. He also draws the faces of the people who attack them and burn down the flats they stay it, so the twins can track them down, and do the same to them.

Fair’s fair, after all.

Clint Barton

1. 2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod

Right. Okay.

Love To Hate You by Erasure, because of course. Every time he and Natasha have any kind of disagreement when on a job with SHIELD he’d start playing it at full volume. To which Natasha would respond “ITS NOT SAFE HOUSE IF THEY CAN HEAR US THREE BLOCKS AWAY CLINT”.

All the same, its their theme song, because they are one another’s dearest friends (and possibly have been lovers at some point maybe I don’t know) and also they sometimes hate each other, mostly for being right.

They’re Taking The Hobbits To Isengard. I don’t care if this is a meme, you cannot tell me that Coulson or Fury or Natasha didn’t play this at him at full volume (I mean. He is hard-of-hearing) at some point.

Probably the ten hour version, to be honest. Clint thought it was jammin’ and now will sometimes be found singing it under his breath.

2. the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to

In the Quinjet. At the controls of the Quinjet. This is why he almost always pilots with Natasha.

He may or may not have also fallen asleep on stakeout at least once.

3. the game they’d destroy everyone else at

Darts. Obviously.

4. the emoticon they’d use most often

I don’t care if they’re not real emoticons, he’d probably have a Starkphone and his favourite emoticons would be a high five one and fingerguns.

5. what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

Trying not to nod off. Unless he’s had caffeine pills, in which case he’s trying to stay still. When dealing with a baby at home, Laura has vetoed the use of caffeine pills and so, instead, he makes do with very very very big cups of frankencoffee.

6. their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.

Coffee. Specifically, frankencoffee, aka, “so what happens if I have this coffee and this coffee and then also some chocolate and some cinnamon and oh is that butterscotch syrup, yeah, sure, and oooh, Laura won’t mind me borrowing half a bottle of peppermint essence and oh look we also have orange extract-” until he has a pint mug of the most unholy thing you could ever drink.

And I say this as someone who created coffeetea for all-nighter essay writing.

7. how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

Spends time with Laura and the kids, and sometimes takes the kids out to a paddock where she shows them how to shoot. They’re getting almost as good at him at regular archery, but he dreads what Laura will say if he starts them on trick shots too young.

What he doesn’t know is that Lila and Cooper are already practising trick shots, just without him around.

8. what they wanted to be when they grew up

“not arrested” I think is the closest. Then he was arrested, and Coulson said, “so, hey, would you like a job?” and then he was SHIELD, and though he got arrested many times after that they always got him out.

… though after he brought Natasha in Coulson did leave him to stew in a cell for almost two days before going to fetch him. But Clint thinks that’s fair payback for bringing in a possibly-evil opposing agent when tasked with killing her.

9. their favorite kind of weather

Sunny, clear, not too windy. He can hear more easily and he can see for miles, which really helps with his archery.

10. thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

Clint can… kind of sing? Laura calls it a “warble”, mostly to tease him about the bird thing. He mostly sings to their kids, though he has been known to serenade Laura on occasion.

11. how/what they like to draw or doodle

Angles for shots when he’s got to stakeout and snipe.

Natasha Romanoff

1. 2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod

Tachikovsky’s 1812 Overture. Because cannons and also Russian. In The Hall Of The Mountain King because she kinda likes the ominousness.

I Knew You Were Trouble - the Gollum version, because memes, and Pocketful of Sunshine, which she considers a “Laura Song”.

2. the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to

You think that Clint climbing through vents is bad? You’ve never had to deal with Natasha falling asleep in them.

3. the game they’d destroy everyone else at

Any drinking game. The only one who could beat her is Vision, except Vision doesn’t generally drink, because he doesn’t need to. That said, the twins come close, as did Stark, before he decided that he really needed to cut back on the self-medication via alcohol.

4. the emoticon they’d use most often

Is there one for a frownyface with one raised eyebrow? That’s Natasha’s fave.

5. what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

Absolutely normal until the moment she keels over. Common procedure with SHIELD was to debrief her and give her one cup of coffee, as soon as the coffee was finished, debriefing would be delayed until she’d got some sleep.

6. their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.

She doesn’t really have a preference; the chance to have options is her preference and she’ll generally go with whatever her tastebuds are craving at the time, unless it would blow her cover.

7. how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

Visiting Clint and Laura and the Barton kids.

8. what they wanted to be when they grew up

A ballerina. Not a Black Widow-Ballerina, an actual Ballerina. And she could have been, if not for the Red Room. Now she just wants to make sure that people don’t do that to more kids, and that kids who’ve been shaped so don’t get a chance to destroy the world.

9. their favorite kind of weather

Cold, crisp, biting winter snow.

10. thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

Natasha Does Not Sing. Not ever.

11. how/what they like to draw or doodle

Sometimes she sketches things, not really thinking.

Almost inevitably, its things from the Red Room.

#Wanda Maximoff #Pietro Maximoff #Clint Barton #Natasha Romanoff #nanyoky #ask games #ask #mcu stuff #mcu headcanons

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jordan202 · 8 years ago

Text

My Boys: Beneath the Surface - Chapter 7

Previous Chapters are HERE

Thanks @jia911 for proofreading!

Anon(s) who stayed up late, this one goes especially to you. May your sleep deprivation be worth it!

My Boys: Beneath the Surface – Chapter 7

Amelia finished helping Megan with her dress while she looked around in search of Lucas’ shoes.

“Ugh, I knew it,” The twelve year old frowned as he picked up the pair from his mother’s hand. “I’ve spent twenty minutes looking for these and you found them in three seconds. How is that even possible?”

“Theory says,” Thomas barged into the conversation, “that if a mom can’t find it, then it’s lost forever.”

“Which is no excuse to leave your things scattered around,” Amelia gave her oldest sons a censoring look before smiling back at Megan, who looked adorable in a light blue dress. “Okay, is everyone ready?”

As the weekend finally arrived, a lot of the guests to the wedding had come to town and they were having one last dinner party before the ceremony the following day. Amelia couldn’t contain her excitement about the prospect of finally seeing Addison. Rushing down the stairs pretty much at the same time she put on her high heels, Amelia gathered all the kids in the foyer before they left the house to her sister’s.

“Is it wrong that I don’t want to go back?” The neurosurgeon smiled at her husband while they made their way to Nancy’s house. The wedding was pretty much the last event before they went home.

“Not wrong, just really surprising,” Owen glanced at her with an amused smile. Judging by his wife’s resistance towards her family through the entire week, he had assumed Amelia would want to go back as soon as possible.

“Why?” Amelia let out a chuckle in response.

“I just…,” Owen tried to make a good choice of words. “I supposed you preferred to be at a safe distance from your relatives.”

“I do,” Amelia confirmed with a head nod just as they were approaching the house with the big group. “I meant I will miss the rental house, the summer, the pool…”

“Oh,” Owen nodded his head in playful disapproval and smiled as they stepped up to ring the door bell.

That evening, Nancy’s house had more guests than it did the previous weekend. Amelia saw some of her cousins and before Owen could notice, he was engulfed in a wave of introductions and small talk.

The trauma surgeon couldn’t help losing his smile when he noticed William Hartley approaching his wife and whispering something in her ear. Amelia laughed at him and dismissed what he was saying with a wave of her hand, making Owen wonder if the guy had just paid his wife a compliment.

“Are you usually this obvious with your emotions or does this happen only when my sister is involved?”

Owen heard the amused voice asking him a question and turned around to find the cheerful expression of Liz Shepherd.

“I’m sorry,” She kept on grinning like she was completely at ease. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Owen lied with a forced smile.

Liz kept on widely grinning at him and then Owen couldn’t hide just how uncomfortable he really was.

“Don’t worry,” Amelia’s sister finally broke the silence, after she’d had her share of fun. “He is not a threat.”

“I never considered him to be,” Owen arrogantly replied with self confidence, even though his jaw was clenched a little too hard.

Liz didn’t bother replying but Owen noticed the way she smiled at him before taking a sip from her cup, with an expression that looked almost like pride.

“So, Amy has been saying to me that I should go to Seattle more often,” Amelia’s sister said in a tone that made Owen feel like he was being tested.

“You should,” He promptly replied. “I’m always telling Amelia she should invite you all more often. Or take up on your invitations to come here.”

“Really?” Liz raised her eyebrows and then looked at Owen like she knew something he didn’t. “You really do like my sister, don’t you?”

Even though he found the question strange, especially because he and Liz were practically strangers, Owen decided to be honest.

“More than I could ever explain,” He said somberly, finishing his drink with his eyes still fixated on the woman they talked about.

“Good,” Liz approved of Owen’s fierce reply with a head nod. “It’s good to see that she turned her life around and is now in a good place,” The Shepherd sibling turned her head from Amelia back to her husband. “You seem like a nice guy with a clean record. I’m not sure how it is between you and Amy, but judging by how she spoke of you, I assumed you were close and get along well.”

“Yes?” Owen slightly frowned, confused about the purpose of that conversation.

“I guess what I am trying to say is,” Liz awkwardly explained herself, “I’m happy you love Amelia the way she is. I know she has a lot of baggage and most people would be scared away the minute they knew about her troubled past.”

Owen knew Liz meant well, but he couldn’t help getting a bit angry at her words. He was very defensive of Amelia and couldn’t control it. Everyone in the Shepherd family seemed to judge her for the choices she’d made in the past. The way they would keep bringing things that had happened years before was a bit exhausting and he started to wonder if that was why Amelia didn’t share more with them. But it wouldn’t make sense because now, in her current life, his wife had nothing to be ashamed of.

“It is me who is happy that Amelia took me with all my baggage,” Owen dryly replied, looking deeply into Liz’s eyes so she could see he meant it. “Your sister is the strongest person I have ever met and it doesn’t scare me that she’s been through things,” He explained, trying to soften his voice a bit. “It actually attracts me that she has overcome them many times over. She might have taken some blows but she’s still standing. That is way more relevant.”

Liz frowned, taken by surprise by the new perspective.

“You know what,” She sheepishly admitted, looking at Owen with renewed admiration. “You are absolutely right.”

Owen answered to her confession with a smile, unable to control his thoughts. Amelia didn’t talk much about her family but judging by what he’d been told by his wife, they didn’t know a lot of what had happened to their youngest sister, especially the details about the darkest days of her life while she still lived in Los Angeles.

He once again looked at her and heard Amelia’s contaminating laughter when she obviously teased William about something. Owen realized that whereas his wife was looking at the neurologist with a fraternal smile, his gaze upon her seemed to be nothing but innocent.

Or maybe he was just overreacting, Owen thought to himself. After hearing about Amelia’s past and plans with William, of course his reading of every situation would become biased. Excusing himself, he told Liz he would check on the kids, feeling better already just to envision his children’s company.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Amelia playfully scolded her husband. They’d made it back from Nancy’s house a couple of hours before and during the entire time they’d helped the kids with their bedtime routines, Owen had barely said more than a few words.

“More like thoughtful,” He corrected her, stopping what he was doing to look at her.

Amelia realized how serious and stiff he looked, in contrast to the relaxed serenity he’d had for most of the past week. Owen really did look like he was dwelling with his own thoughts and as he hesitated to start a conversation, Amelia turned her back and opened the chest drawers, hoping to discourage him, because she wasn’t sure the topic he was about to bring up would be pleasant.

“I talked to Liz today,” Owen declared, thinking that was a good way to start. He knew a conversation about Amelia’s family was long overdue and she couldn’t keep postponing it much longer.

“Yeah?” Amelia tried to sound indifferent, taking advantage of the fact that he couldn’t see her face. She hoped not to sound too interested because she really didn’t want to talk about what Owen obviously did, at the same time she was curious to find out what he could have possibly discussed with her sister.

“She said you invited her to visit us,” Owen shared, noticing how defensive his wife was getting. He finished untying his wrist watch and walked around the bed, approaching her but keeping a distance. “She seemed happy about it.”

“That’s good,” Amelia evasively replied.

“Well?” Owen raised his eyebrows, feeling like a school teacher reprimanding a student who’d been caught cheating.

Amelia drowned in the uncomfortable silence that followed. Knowing she was caught between the chest drawer and Owen, the neurosurgeon swiftly turned around, making eye contact with him for a fraction of a second before breaking it.

“I did. I meant it,” She added, trying to distract him as she made an escape.

When Amelia thought she could safely let out the breath she’d been holding, Owen’s hand captured her arm as he gently but firmly spun her around.

“Amelia?” Owen insisted, raising his eyebrows with authority.

“What?” She snapped, raising her hands in a typical defensive manner. “What do you want me to say? I can’t guess what’s on your mind,” Amelia hissed, deflecting her anger on him.

“You know damn well what’s on my mind,” Owen replied with a determinate, low voice.

Amelia hated how patronized she was feeling. Flashbacks of the majority of conversations she’d had with her mother and sisters all her life ran on her mind and she saw herself once again being cornered by someone she loved, familiarly feeling like a big disappointment.

“What do you want me to say?” Amelia exploded, trying her hardest to contain her raised voice. “You complained that we don’t see my family often enough, so we came here… Then you complained some more about it, so I invited Liz over… What more do you want from me?”

Owen closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, knowing this discussion would be one of the difficult ones. Amelia was being totally unreasonable and twisting facts because she was hoping to, once again, avoid that conversation.

“Why is it so hard for you to talk about your family?” He raised his eyebrows, trying to control his anger at her childish attitude. “Whenever I ask you questions, you either shrug it off, come up with a joke or tell me to forget about it…” Owen listed, knowing he was pressuring her and that she hated it. “Why?” He insisted, taking one step in her direction and deeply staring into her eyes. “Why, Amelia?”

Silence followed but instead of looking away, his wife proudly sustained his gaze, angrily breathing out through her nose. Owen could see how worked up she was and even though he didn’t like putting her in that position, he hoped it would make her talk.

“Amelia?” He insisted, not daring to break eye contact.

More silence followed and Owen lost his patience at her stubbornness.

“You are god damn unbelievable,” He chided, nodding his head in disapproval. “You spend years telling me one thing, then we come up here and nothing is what it should look like and you don’t even have the decency to explain to me why your description does not match reality.”

“What do you know?” Amelia defensively asked, fuming with anger. He had no right to judge her or jump to conclusions after only a few days with the Shepherds.

“Nothing!” Owen raised his voice, opening his palm up in the air as he leaned over in her direction. “That’s exactly my point. I know nothing. Because you won’t tell me.”

“Owen, listen…”

“No, you listen,” He took a step in her direction and stood close to her body, in a very intimidating maner. “You told me your family was unsupportive, that they didn’t come to our wedding because they didn’t care…”

“They didn’t care!” Amelia interrupted him, feeling her heart breaking all over again. Inviting her sisters and mother to her wedding had been one last attempt at making peace with her past and yet they had completely shut that door with their refusal to show up.

“You spent the past decade telling me how awful they were to you, but they have expressed nothing but concern and sorrow for the fact that you’ve been distant from them… I am just trying to understand, Amelia.”

“You think that one week defines it all?” Amelia attacked him, feeling betrayed by the one person whose support meant everything to her. “You think that in one week, you can make up your mind about how they feel about me, or how they treated me or the things I’ve been told all my life?” She angrily snapped, hating to feel herself tear up. Anger was mixing with hurt and Amelia knew better than anyone how dangerous that combination could be.

Owen felt the weight of her words and stayed in silence, trying to understand. He noticed how affected by the entire situation she was and that vision only added to his frustration.

“I’m… I’m just…” He struggled with words, hating that Amelia was feeling like he wasn’t on her side. “I am just trying to understand, Amelia,” Owen repeated, calming down for her sake. “I don’t understand and I am trying to. All I am asking is for you to explain it to me. I’m not saying I don’t believe you…”

“You are!” Amelia interrupted him, pulling away when he tried to reach out for her hand. “That’s exactly what you are telling me!”

“Don’t,” Owen used a tone of command that set her off even more. “Amelia, damn it, why do you have to make this so hard?!”

“It’s you who started it,” She exploded, carelessly yelling at him. “You know what?” She gave up, a look of hurt clear on her face. “Take my family’s side. You’d fit right in,” Amelia declared with despise. “You’re already very good at making everything my fault when all I ever did was basically make sure I minded my own business.”

With those words, Amelia turned around again and entered the bathroom, on purpose slamming the door to let out her anger.

Owen stayed put and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down at the same time he wondered how things could have gotten that much worse.

When Amelia finally calmed down enough to leave the bathroom, she found out Owen wasn’t in bed like she’d originally imagined. Too angry and upset at him to go figure out his whereabouts, she went to bed by herself, aggressively pulling the covers and turning off the lights in an attempt to force herself to sleep.

The next morning, when Amelia woke up, Owen wasn’t there either. With mixed emotions, she realized he probably hadn’t come to bed the night before. At the same time that hurt Amelia, for it was very rare that they fought badly enough to sleep in separate rooms, she was glad he hadn’t come. The neurosurgeon couldn’t help feeling backstabbed at the way he’d jumped to conclusions about her family, obviously not taking her words for it.

At the same time Amelia imagined that superficially it really must have been hard to understand, she was also upset that Owen demanded to know more. The more she thought about it, the more Amelia wondered if her anger was really directed at him or her inability to talk about the subject. She tended to avoid those topics in her mind, even more so ever since she’d gone to Seattle and built a life for herself there, keeping that part of her past compartmentalized somewhere deep inside her memories.

Amelia had gone through something similar a few times before and she knew that avoiding feeling pain could very well backfire in the worst possible way, but she had hoped with all her heart that the long years of being told, directly or not, how much of a failure she was would simply not matter anymore after she’d proved her worth. Amelia acknowledged the life she had at the moment was everything she’d ever dreamed of and yet it made her angry at herself because right now, feeling the weight of her past on her shoulders invariably made her question if her present really was enough to make her fulfilled.

Without much time left to lose with those alarming realizations, Amelia went downstairs, not at all looking forward to the long day that was about to start. It was Saturday and Nancy’s wedding was finally happening. Telling herself to cheer up because at least she’d get to see Addison, Amelia prepared the kids’ breakfasts and then went upstairs to sort out their clothes for the ceremony.

Nancy and her husband to be had decided on a simple ceremony in their own backyard. Luckily, it was a warm, sunny day and because both adults were getting married for the second time, they’d chosen something simple, with a quick formality to exchange vows and rings, followed by a lively reception with a buffet in their backyard.

Through the entire morning, Owen kept quiet too and Amelia didn’t blame him. She hated being at odds with her husband but at the moment, she really didn’t feel like talking yet. It took them long enough to dress up all the kids and get ready to leave with the big group and she felt lucky to have the busy routine to distract her.

Soon enough, Amelia found Addison there. Her friend look tired and Amelia knew she’d probably taken a night flight from Los Angeles. Somehow Amelia felt that no matter how much time she spent with Addison, it would never be enough to properly catch up.

“Is that William Hartley?” Addison asked while she and Amelia kicked back on a table at the far end of the backyard. The neurosurgeon noticed as her friend squinted to get a better view of the man under the strong summer sun.

“The one and only,” Amelia replied with lack of enthusiasm, bending over the table to get an appetizer.

“He looks hot,” Addison decided with a dirty smile.

“You can have him,” Amelia added with a sigh of indifference.

Addison glanced sideways at the woman she considered a little sister and studied her conspicuously. Amelia seemed a bit off, almost irritable and her short, impatient answers hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Alright, spill it,” Addison demanded with an authoritative but warm voice.

“What?” Amelia stared back at her with impatience.

“What’s going on?” Addison kindly asked.

Amelia let out a heavy sigh. Her eyes focused on Thomas and Lucas, who were running around the table chasing after a dog before she confessed.

“Owen and I got into a huge fight last night.”

“Yeah?” Addison slightly turned her chair right beside Amelia while they both observed the guests and the buffet waiters passing around. “Why?”

Amelia let out a heavy sigh while she finally gathered the strength to talk.

“Owen has been on my back asking me why we don’t see my family more often, firing questions as if accusing me of not doing right by them,” Amelia shook her head in distress, too overwhelmed to believe it. “I mean, it’s like he is on their side,” She spoke, infuriated and hurt. “It’s that same old implication that it’s my fault that we don’t see them.”

“That you don’t see them,” Addison inquired with humbleness, “Or that you don’t want to see them?”

Amelia turned her head to the side, looking for an explanation in Addison’s eyes.

“Is there a difference?”

“Of course there is,” Addison spoke like it was obvious. “You’re clearly uncomfortable being close to them. You have always been,” The obstetrician said with certainty. “Amelia, ever since I married your brother you’d go to our house whenever you could. You’d spend every free weekend with us in Manhattan,” She paused, waiting to see if there’d be a reaction from the youngest woman. “Even though you had three big sisters, you’d share everything with me,” She concluded, looking at Amelia with something that resembled genuine concern and longing. “I never said anything because I loved it. I loved it that I felt needed and cherished like a big sister. And I loved you,” Addison added, knowing she was walking into dangerous territory. “And even though we never really talked about it, not even after all these years, you know as well as I do why you did it.”

“What?” Amelia asked, feeling an uncomfortable lump on her throat. Even though what Addison was saying was touching and very true, she wasn’t sure she wished to carry on with that conversation.

“Amelia…” Addison struggled, thinking of the best way to phrase it. “You never felt comfortable around your sisters. You never felt like they supported you,” The obstetrician added. “I know you felt all your life like you weren’t one of them and it only got worse after you crashed Derek’s car.” Addison said with conviction. “I see how hard you’ve worked, especially after that, to prove you’re one of them and now,” She hesitated, hoping what she would say wouldn’t come off as horrible as it sounded in her head. “Now, even though you are, even though you got it all, for some reason you still feel like you are a misfit.”

Amelia felt a constriction on her throat and forced herself to hold back her tears. She looked away, too embarrassed to be read like a book. Addison was pointing out things that Amelia herself hadn’t yet fully concluded and it hurt to realize all of those things.

“Don’t be mad at Owen for not understanding,” Addison finalized, determined to end the subject there because she didn’t want to add more pain and frustration to the situation, and she especially didn’t want to fight her adored friend. “Not when you don’t understand it yourself.”

Amelia stayed in silence, processing Addison’s words and the truth they contained. All her friend had said was true. Growing up, especially after her father had died, Amelia had always felt like she didn’t belong there.

One day, on an average morning, she’d woken up blissfully happy and then watched her father get killed right in front of her eyes. From that day forward, everything had been different. The once happy, loud family conversations had given room to quiet whispers; the so long awaited family dinners had turned into torturing minutes of utter silence. Back then, Amelia had had a lot of questions, but very few answers. Whenever she’d ask anyone about anything, or tried to understand what was going on and why her world had suddenly turned upside down when she’d been only five years old, her mother and siblings would shut her out, supposedly to protect her.

Slowly, Amelia’s curiosity had evolved into anguish and then into insecurity. The vulnerability that had accompanied her ever since her father had died became increasingly stronger right around her adolescence, making Amelia search outside her home for all the things she’d never had. The cheerful, repressed child had evolved into a rebellious, willful teenager, who’d test anyone and anything around her just to get the limits she’d always needed but never been given.

Addison had been one of the few people Amelia had felt she could actually talk to without being judged, called inappropriate, or even being accused of trying to draw attention. Everything Amelia had done and tried while growing up had been severely frowned upon by her mother and siblings, who’d distinctively told her many times over just how wrong Amelia always was.

“I’m working on it,” Amelia admitted after several minutes of silence.

“I know,” Addison quietly added, reaching out a hand and holding her friend’s on her lap.

Immersed in total silence, Amelia nodded in gratitude for Addison’s always reliable support. They sat beside each for long minutes, watching the kids running. Amelia’s eyes met Owen’s figure and she felt her heart swelling inside her chest when she realized how much the traumas of her past still affected her present. The notion devastated her and wondering what she could do to make it all better, Amelia kept staring at her husband, watching as he politely exchanged words with her mother while holding Megan in his arms. Carolyn was obviously saying something nice because the little girl kept a smile on her face all along. At the sight of her smiling daughter, Amelia warmed up, for once realizing that life had a bigger purpose than all of that.

“I just can’t get over how much I love that kid,” Addison let out a chuckle. “I mean, just look at him.”

Amelia turned her eyes at the direction her friend was pointing and she noticed Lucas charmingly talking to his aunt Kathleen just a few meters away from them. Addison had noticed how the twelve year old had lost his formal jacket and tie long before, rolling up the sleeves to his white button up shirt in a very casual and laidback manner.

“He is a real piece of work,” Amelia smiled through her sadness. “I have no idea what he’s saying to Kate but I am sure he is up to no good.”

“He flirts like a natural,” Addison added with good humor, making Amelia crack up.

“Well, you’d know about that, wouldn’t you?” The neurosurgeon provoked. “Maybe that’s the gift you passed onto Lucas when you baptized him.”

“Maybe,” Addison laughed, too well aware to contradict that.

The two women kept staring at the boy for the following seconds and only when Lucas finally convinced his aunt to apparently talk one of the waiters into getting some dessert samples from the kitchen, Amelia turned her eyes to look at Addison.

“You know, Addie, I don’t think I’ve ever said this but,” The neurosurgeon said emotionally, too caught up with what was on her mind to realize that her sister distractedly came in their direction after talking to Lucas. As Amelia had processed everything her friend had said just minutes before, it had become very clear that her brother’s ex wife was one of the few people Amelia could count on throughout her whole life, from her childhood days to all the journey she’d gone through in Los Angeles. “You were always meant to be my firstborn’s godmother. And you know I’m not talking about Luke.”

“Amelia,” Addison tilted her head as she looked back, deeply touched.

“No, I mean it,” Amelia reinforced, feeling grateful for Addison’s undying loyalty. “In my heart you were. Whenever in the world he is right now, I know he knows it too and I am so deeply grateful that my baby has you there to visit his grave site more often than I can.”

“What baby?”

The words spoken by the familiar voice caught Amelia by surprised and she only had time to turn her head up to meet the gaze of her sister when Kathleen frowned heavily, obviously alarmed. Amelia could barely process anything else when her sister’s voice resonated again, startling her.

“Amelia, if not Lucas, then what firstborn? What baby are you talking about?”

–

#omelia #owelia #omeliafics #myboys #myboysfanfiction #greysanatomy #greys anatomy #greysanatomyfanfic #greys anatomy fanfiction #owen hunt #amelia shepherd #owen x amelia #owen and amelia

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