#Technically also based on this dream/nightmare I had last night. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writefightandflightclub · 3 years

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I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕

First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣

Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.

Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.

Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.

Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.

Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.

GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)

Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.

He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).

It’s just another gruesome nightmare.

Although… there is nothing “just” about it.

The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.

With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.

In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.

She could come back.

She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.

His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.

Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)

Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.

The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.

It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.

You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.

Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.

Fucking Caleb.

Before that, he was doing just fine.

Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.

Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.

She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.

At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.

He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.

There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.

His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.

Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.

Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.

He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.

She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?

It’s true though.

Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.

Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.

Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?

Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.

After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.

Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.

And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.

With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.

Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.

But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.

Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.

Once, you’d found him lying in it.

Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.

Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?

What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?

Re-enacting my death, obviously.

Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?

Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.

Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.

When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.

He wants to be outside.

There are too many ghosts in his house now.

He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.

He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.

Fucking Caleb.

Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.

Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.

He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.

He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.

He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.

He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.

He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.

So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.

Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.

Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.

Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.

You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.

When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.

Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.

Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long.

Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...

The glass door slides open.

“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.

A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.”

You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?

If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?

Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.

After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.

The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.

“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles.

You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.

The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.

“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.

You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.

Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.

He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.

And it happens all at once on the exhale.

Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…

Finally.

Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.

It is pounding because he feels alive again.

When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.

There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.

Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.

Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.

Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.

He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.

However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.

It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.

Finally.

“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”

You take his words in. You listen.

His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.

But it is enough.

Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.

You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”

In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.

As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.

It is.

You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.

He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.

Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.

And you…

“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.

You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”

Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”

“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”

Well, that’s news to him.

Welcome news, perhaps?

You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.

Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.

Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.

Always alone. That he might die that way; again.

And now, here you are.

Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.

But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.

Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.

And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.

He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.

“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.

You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.

“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.

You comfort him.

And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.

He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.

He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.

He wants you with him.

It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.

It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.

But he wants it to be.

And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.

#Nathan Bateman #Nathan Bateman x reader #Oscar Isaac #ex machina

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced.

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making.

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?”

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on.

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous.

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said.

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.”

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.”

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory.

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years.

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-”

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-”

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash.

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.”

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view.

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.”

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.”

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement. The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely.

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.”

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply.

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster. “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?”

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme.

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-”

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...”

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions.

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-”

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head.

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #prequel trilogy #potentially triggering #discussions of suicide #references to self-harm #star wars au #bonding? between #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #? in my #hurt/comfort fic #? It’s more likely than you’d think #also I struggle with fix it stories that just never address the big tusken elephant in the room? of course i want everyone to #live happily ever but theres a certain scale of atrocity that i feel u gotta address 2 get there #ugh this chapter got reallly long and im just gonna post it ok? ok.#meh #a lot of this fic is just people mentally going What The Fuck at various registers with different inflections #Because that’s not an inappropriate response to time travel in general! and star wars canon in particular.#star wars au no 27

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bookishofalder · 4 years

Text

Moonlight

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

Summary: In which losing a fellow pilot has you falling apart, until your best friend can’t take it anymore and feelings come flooding out.

Warnings: SMUT, this is smut. Soft, fluffy emotions and comforting, brief talk of loss, death, battle, grief, healing. Language, and again, smut. WC-4,951

A/N: Wrote this to make myself feel better after my province announced another emergency lockdown. Big Star Wars fan but I kept things vague as I am no expert. Feedback appreciated ❤️

The nightmare surrounded you, inescapable, your body rigid despite your intense desire to run, flee. The healers had said these would fade over time, but it had been months since you had nearly died in battle against the First Order, and the nightmares still came.

Every damn night you relived the worst day of your life. The day you hadn’t been fast enough.

And then she was gone.

Your oldest friend, taken out by a tie-fighter right in front of you, as you desperately tried to outmaneuver the fucker and save her, your mind screaming at you that you were one of the best pilots in the Resistance, you had to stop them. You just had to.

But you didn’t make it in time.

It didn’t matter that the squadron had blindsided your unit. You were supposed to just be on surveillance, expecting at most a transport ship or the likes to ID and verify passage. When they appeared, it wasn’t even many of them yet they had come out of hyperspace right on top of you, and everything that happened only took minutes.

Six other pilots were out there with you. Four made it back.

“Fuck!” You gasped, shooting up in your bunk as you finally pulled yourself from the nightmare, your body shivering from the cool sweat coating your skin. You leaned over, glancing down at the bunk below-but he wasn’t there.

Poe.

Your best friend, commander and fellow survivor. He would comfort you if you just asked him, you knew that. You never could seem to find the words though. And you weren’t sure of his current whereabouts because he should have been sleeping...which led you to believe he might have ended up in another room tonight. Good for him, you thought.

It was just, something about watching your friend die, then almost joining them in whatever was beyond this life, it had woken you up that day. Slapped you right out of everything you knew and laid your cards on the table for you to face. You had to laugh at yourself, at how ridiculous you were, lying day after day that your feelings were platonic. When at night you’d wait until you were alone in the room, Poe off showering or at the Cantina, and you’d slip your fingers into your heat and think only of him, of your Poe. Always cumming within minutes, hard.

Poe and you had grown together in the Resistance. Though he was a few years older, therefore always technically your superior, he never treated you like anything other than his equal. He taught you to fly, to fight, to survive. And maybe if you hadn’t been so entirely focused on impressing him, on making him proud...maybe you’d have seen the way he looked at you. The way he paid complete attention to you. Or the ardent affection behind every friendly touch. Even the way he would bite his lower lip when, in professional settings, you referred to him by title.

You didn’t notice those things, however. And you’d never be convinced by a friend that he felt anything other than friendly toward you, no, he loved you only as a friend. A man like him, you reasoned, had no business settling down with you when he could have any person he wanted.

And he did, really. You would play wingman for each other all the time, during nights at the cantina. You'd wink at each other from across the room when one of you was making your way out with whoever you deemed worthy. If you both weren’t so stupid, maybe you’d have realized that it was each other you wanted to end the night with, that you each just went along with the other these nights, not wanting to risk such an important friendship and wanting to support one another in getting laid, in having fun.

When you had landed back at base after the surprise attack, two pilots short, you had stumbled out of your x-wing, your eyes leaking thick tears as you desperately searched for his face in the crowd. You’d barely made it down the ladder before he was rushing toward you, sweeping you into his arms and peppering you with sweet kisses and saying everything you needed to hear in those moments. When all you could feel was agony and grief-he knew exactly what to say to keep you off the edge.

That was when you realized how in love with him you were, and it was also when you decided you could never tell him your feelings. Because the idea of losing Poe? It was unbearable; you wouldn’t survive that.

So you locked them back.

Heaving a heavy sigh, you climbed down from your bunk and put on your slippers. It was warm enough on base to not bother with adding layers to your t-shirt and sleep shorts, thankfully. You exited the room, running your fingers through your hair to rid yourself of your bedhead, and pausing to decide where you planned to go.

Turning left, you mindlessly wandered away from your room in search of something to distract yourself.

Poe turned off the shower, steam swirling around him as he stepped out into the change room, grabbing his towel and shaking it through his locks before wrapping it around his body. He enjoyed late night showers, the quiet of the communal fresher helped relax him and clear his mind. It was also the ideal place to masturbate, alone in the tinted glass stall, one hand on the wall as the other twisted over his length, urging out the release he needed to help shake the thoughts of you away, to relax.

He had inadvertently gotten into a routine these last few months, showering late most nights and then making his way back to the bunk he shared with you, ready to comfort you when the nightmares took over. He had shifted his entire schedule just to ensure he was always there to roll you over gently in your bunk, a tactic he discovered early on helped to soothe you. He didn’t think you’d even realized what he had been doing, you never woke up, or if you did you had never said anything to Poe about it.

He hated seeing how the surprise attack changed you, your usually bubbly personality dimmed somewhat, your smile always a little slow. Slight shadows under your eyes gave away your restless nights, and he’d even realized recently that you’d lost some weight-it wasn’t much, but he loved your curves, the healthy glow you carried. He’d had to ask Finn and a few other pilots you were close with to keep an eye on you at meals. Try to get you eating without raising your suspicions.

When the First Order appeared in the middle of a routine patrol, Poe had immediately reacted; shouting instructions to the other five pilots and pulling his ship around to avoid oncoming fire.

His mind had briefly wondered if this would be the end. And then he had seen you, chasing after Sira’s ship and trying to stop the tie fighter. His heart had dropped and he sprang into action, not entirely losing his focus on his entire unit, but honing in on you to make sure nothing happened to you.

He took out the tie-fighter too late, had to watch as your friend died, hear your cries for her in the com. You had spun around and fired ceaselessly onto the onslaught, only pulling back when Poe had switched the coms between you to a private channel and using his hardest voice to order you fall back.

Back on base, you had climbed out of your ship with unsteady legs, eyes searching, and he had run toward you and crashed you into his arms. His thoughts consumed by the reality that he’d almost lost you, and he wouldn’t have ever...fuck, he’d have never told you.

He wanted to tell you after that, every day. To admit his feelings, but it never seemed like the right time. After the funerals and debriefings, your nightmares had started and time blurred together into several months. Months of watching you trying to navigate your grief, your pain. He put his needs aside to care for you, to give you whatever you needed.

Telling you he loved you felt too selfish; you were struggling so much already. He couldn’t add another burden.

He padded softly to the room he had shared with you for several years now, the only real place that felt like home anymore. Stepping inside, he quickly pulled on his pyjama bottoms before glancing at your bed to see if you were dreaming yet, or if he could lay down for a while and wait for the telltale whimpers that preceded the worst of them.

Only, your bed was empty.

He stared for a beat at the tangle of sheets, then cast his eyes around the small room. Flicking on a light, he found no note or indication of why you were gone. Your nightmares must have come early tonight, and you’d gotten out of bed. He knew you weren’t in the fresher as he’d just come from there and would have heard another person.

Dropping his towel, he left the room and turned left, knowing exactly where you would have wandered off to so late at night.

He had always been able to predict you, a skill that you despised in him-it brought out your competitive side in training and simulations. And while you were an excellent pilot, you had yet to truly beat him at his own game. While other pilots aspired to be just like you, you were constantly training to be like Poe. It made him proud to watch you work so hard, so stubbornly, never taking a loss too hard before you jumped back in.

Before the surprise attack, you enjoyed competing against one another in everything, always for fun. Some nights at the Cantina, it would be who could go home for the night with the highest-ranking official in attendance. And while Poe felt like he had to work so hard to push his feelings for you back and focus on whoever he was hitting on, he’d always look over at you and feel like you barely had to try. You were just so beautiful, so bright. Any man lucky enough to be charmed by you was a goner-which was why this was often a bet you would win. It seemed to make you laugh when he would hand over the agreed credits the next day, so he never asked to stop.

Now though, you stayed close to Poe if you ventured out, which was rare. Never leaving with anyone and always leaving first. As if you thought he needed you away from him to find someone-but he hadn’t gone home with anyone for a long time now. He didn’t think you knew that, so he’d always leave not long after you, make a point of making a little noise when he entered your shared room, just so you’d know he was there.

Stepping outside, Poe was happy to feel the warmth of the salty air on his bare skin, the moon high in the sky casting a pink glow over the planet, muting the bright stars. He swiftly made his way down a short path around the residential part of the base, a path that led to a small sandy beach where he knew you’d be. You never could resist the ocean, not on any planet that you ventured to that had them.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he was stepping from the trees and spotted you, standing in your sleep clothes, slippers set on a washed-up log and your feet in the water. He watched you silently, not wanting to disturb your quiet moment. You had your arms crossed around your middle, almost as if you were holding yourself together. His heart thrummed in his chest.

When a small sob escaped you and met his ears, Poe moved forward and cleared his throat. “You sleepwalking, kid?” He kept his voice low, tone playfully affectionate as it wrapped around his teasing nickname for you.

You started, “Maker, Poe!” Hissing as you spun around, eyes wide, a hand shooting up to rest over your heart.

Poe grinned, holding his hands up in defence, “Sorry, there’s not really a good way to announce myself in the middle of the night.”

You frowned, though it didn’t meet your eyes. You took careful steps out of the water to move toward him, “Stars, though, you could have made some noise on the pa-oh!”

You gasped when your foot sunk into the sand awkwardly and you fell forward. Immediately, Poe reached out and caught you, lifting you out of the water with ease and stepping back. Setting you on the dry sand in front of him, he gestured at the water, “Were you planning on a midnight swim?”

A brow quirked up as you looked up at him, “I was going to ask you that since you’re the one who's half-naked.” A small smile on your lips had relief sweeping through Poe. He could see the tears on your cheeks still, but he’d managed to make you smile.

He wanted to give a smart reply, only it was late and he had been worried about you, more worried than he’d admit out loud. He glanced down briefly, his arms now at his sides as you stood a few steps apart on the warm beach, “I got back to the room and you were gone, kid.”

You paused, wiping your face after a moment to rub away the tears. You turned away from Poe to gaze out at the water. “I’m still having nightmares.” You admitted, your frown returning.

“I know, honey.”

You glanced back up at him, brows raised in surprise, “That’s not why you’re always up so late, is it? I haven’t been ruining your sleep?” Of course, he thought, of course, you would worry about him. It was so like you. Always putting everything on your shoulders, blaming yourself.

Poe shook his head, “I stay up so I-“ He looked everywhere but at you, trying to find the words, “So I can try and stop the nightmares for you.”

Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly as you stared at him, absorbing his words. Poe shrugged after a moment as if to say it was no big deal. But saying it out loud had Poe realizing that he had gone to great lengths to care for you, which, from the expression on your face, you had realized as well.

“Poe, you already do so much for me, always have,” You stepped closer to him, head back slightly to meet his eyes, “Don’t let me take your sleep-“

“I can’t sleep knowing you’re suffering,” He interrupted, his voice low but firm. He reached out and wrapped his hand around your shoulder, squeezing gently and you froze under his touch. “You’ve been suffering so much since Sira...and I know it’s hard, it’s awful-but watching you be so hard on yourself and closing yourself off from me-I just, I can’t sleep anyway.” It felt kind of good to confess. You needed to know how much he cared.

Tears had leaked out at his words, falling down your soft cheeks as you attempted to blink them away. A small gasp escaped your lips, and then you launched yourself into his arms, pressing yourself against him and trembling as the heavy sobs broke through. Poe held you, one hand moving slowly over your back as the other slide to your hair, gently holding the back of your head. He let you cry, murmuring soft, sweet nothings as you let out the pain and grief, your hands pressed against his bare chest. He pressed his mouth to the top of your head, his own eyes closing as emotions rippled through him. It hurt him to hear your raw, aching sadness. He wished he could do more, take away the pain, go back in time and change everything that happened.

“Sweet girl, I’m here, sweet girl, pretty girl,” He cooed softly as your sobs began to fade, slowly turning to little hiccups. “Right here, never going anywhere, I promise.”

You pulled back slightly in a sudden movement that caught Poe off guard, his arms tightening around you rather than releasing. Just your head moved back, and you met his eyes with the fiercest gaze he’d ever seen, “I can’t ever lose you, Poe, so you better mean that promise!” Your voice was thick with emotion. You slide your hands up to grab the tops of his shoulders, “Please don’t ever leave me.” It came out as a plea, a soft, desperate plea. His heart was beating wildly in his chest now, as he watched the emotions on your face.

Something had changed. It was different out here in the warm night air, alone and emotional, the walls were slipping away, emboldening Poe.

Poe lowered his head toward you, holding your gaze steady, channelling as much into that look as he could. Your name fell from his lips, “Never. Do you know why?”

It was so intense now, his body pressed to yours, he could feel every curve. You were gripping him as tightly as he held you, suspended momentarily in time as you looked at each other.

Your voice was barely a whisper now, “W-why?” He could see that you already understood. He just needed to say it aloud.

The hand on the back of your head tightened, Poe’s lips coming to yours and stopping just short, where he turned his head only ever so slightly to whisper back, “Because I’m yours, sweet girl-always have been. And you’re mine.” You shivered at his words, and then he moved his head back and pressed his lips to yours.

It was the softest he’d ever kissed anyone, but Poe put everything into it. He wanted you to know everything he struggled to say aloud, to know how long he’d wanted to kiss you just like this, how much he cared for you. Your body had stiffened at first, but then you were melting into him. Hands that had been gripping him now sliding up into his hair and forcing his mouth harder against your own.

Poe groaned, keeping one hand in your hair and bringing the other to hold your face, his tongue swiping across your lips eagerly. When you parted them for him, he took his time licking into your mouth, tasting you completely, teasing.

You whimpered in delight, still trembling as he held you.

You were the first to break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his, both of you panting.“Poe, you mean ev-everything to me,” You gasped out, “I love you, always loved you, so, so in love with yo-“

Your sweet words cut off when they overwhelmed Poe with joy and he kissed you again. After a moment, he slid both of his hands down, stopping at your hips, “Let me show you how much I love you, sweet girl.” His voice was deeper now, and he enjoyed the way your eyes seemed to go round as he accentuated his words by leaning slightly and bringing his hands behind your legs, lifting.

Your arms instinctively hooked around his neck as Poe lifted you, legs circling his back. He kissed you again, but pushed at your shirt, his thumb brushing the soft flesh of your stomach as he held you up with one arm. He wanted you, but he needed to make sure you were ready, that you could handle making this leap with him. He let you lead, for the time. You took the hint and removed your shirt, tossing it to the sand. Poe gasped as he gazed at your chest, bringing his lips to your breasts, licking at them before taking a peak gently into his mouth and swirling his hot tongue over it.

“Poe, stars-fuck,” You moaned, arching your chest just slightly toward his eager mouth, trying not to set your precarious position off centre.

Poe grunted, “Hold on to me, going-gonna take these off.” He held your body against his with one arm and used the other to swipe at your shorts, pushing them down. You complied, holding on to him as he adjusted your legs and ripped the shorts off.

His eyes snapped open-you were on a beach. A fucking beach-there was nowhere to safely lay you down. “Fuck, I want to taste you.” He groaned.

A soft whimper slipped out at his delicious words, “Too far, I need you now, wait-waited so long for this...”

Poe’s decision came easily at your words. He pushed his pyjamas down and stepped out of them, before twisting toward the water and walking into it. His feet came to the bath-like water before you noticed what he was doing, and then another needy little moan escaped at the realization of what you were about to do.

Before he lowered you both into the water, he slipped one hand between your bodies and gently trailed his fingers down, dipping into you slowly. Your entire body jerked in response as Poe groaned in delight at how wet you were, “Sweet girl, fuck, so ready for me already.”

“Always,” You replied, kissing under his jaw as your hips rolled a little, clinging to him, “Always thinking about y-you, Poe. Fuck, every guy was just-was nothing, I closed my eyes and thought of you, and w-wished...”

“Fuck, sweet girl,” He carefully moved his fingers, teasing at your pussy while you whimpered out your filthy confession, driving him wild. He slid two inside of you, eyes nearly rolling back at how hot you were, “F-fuck, you’re mine. You know that, sweet girl? Mine.”

“Yes, yours, always yours!”

He pulled his fingers out and adjusted you in his arms, the water lapping at his lower thighs below. His cock pressed up against your slick heat; however, he wanted to taste you first. He brought those fingers to his mouth and you watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he closed his lips around them, immediately groaning at your perfect, sweet taste.

“You taste fucking amazing,” He growled.

And then he was dropping his hands to your hips and lining your bodies up properly, lifting you slightly to allow you to wiggle against him and help wet his cock with your juices. You threw your head back when he began to push the head in, “No, sweet girl look at me, I wanna see your face-only face I ever pictured.” He demanded, his hands tightening their grip.

He watched you work to tilt your head forward, to meet his eyes as he pushed into you, splitting you open, another growl ripping from his chest at how tight you were. It took a few moments to bottom out as he moved slowly, not wanting to hurt you. When your bodies pressed together the sweetest little whimper escaped your lips, your eyes rolling, “Poe, fuckfuckfuck!”

“I know,” He pulled out slightly and quickly rutted back in, earning another whine, “So tight for me, l-like you were fucking made for me, sweet girl. Perfect little cunt.”

“Stars, I’m yours, Poe, only ever yours.”

He grunted, thrusting a few more times before sitting down in the water and pulling you down on him hard. You cried out as he used his hands to lift and drop you repeatedly, almost effortlessly thanks to the water now surrounding you to your lower chests. Your breasts hit the water each time he sunk you onto him and the sensation seemed to only add to your pleasure, your hands carding into his curls and gripping to keep yourself steady. Because he was lifting you, he felt you take control of rolling your hips as he slammed you down, earning grunts and curses, your name on his tongue as the pleasure built between you both.

Poe had never had sex like this, where he felt so entirely connected to the other person. He’d never cared so much for another’s pleasure. Because any other person was always a placebo for you, and no matter how beautiful that person was, he would always close his eyes and picture you when he came. He would have to bite his lip to prevent himself from accidentally moaning your name. Now he could moan your name over and over, and he did.

“P-Poe, uh,” You broke off, trying to keep looking at him as he slammed you down particularly hard and a scream ripped from your lips, the pleasure burning. “You’re gonna make, gonna cum, Poe, Poe, Poe!”

He could feel it, the way your walls tightened around him in soft flutters as your pleasure neared its peak, your entire body trembling in his arms. He brought his mouth to yours, licking inside it sloppily before kissing your jaw, his lips near your ear, “Sweet girl, cum for me, cum for me and put my imagination to fucking shame.”

“F-fuck!” You cried out, your hands squeezing, your head falling slightly back as your mouth popped open and a cry reverberated through your entire body, the wave inside you crashing. Poe didn’t stop moving you, watching your beautiful face as you came, hard, on his cock. Your walls fluttering deliciously around him as he lifted you and slammed you down, one hand bracing your mid-back so that you didn’t fall, so that he could keep watching your face twist in ecstasy.

You quickly became a whimpering mess even as you came down from your high, now entirely unable to form a word of basic. Poe felt himself nearing his release, his thrusts only becoming harder the more you whined for him, “Fuck, so beautiful cumming on my cock,” He grunted, and your eyes met his, tears leaking from the corners and he knew, just knew you were already close again. “Gonna fill you up, sweet girl, fuck. Fill you up and make you mine!”

“Oh, ohohohohoh,” You were fully quivering still as his cock swelled and he thrust as hard as he could, his hands slamming you down and absolutely ripping another orgasm from you as he spilled himself inside of you, filling you with his cum. The pleasure coursed through Poe as he watched you come entirely undone, the reality was a million times better than he ever dreamed. You were fucking perfect. Your pussy milked every last bit of his cum and Poe couldn’t stop shouting your name as spurt after spurt burst from him, his arms forcing you down onto him to take him completely.

Many moments later he came down, his cock still twitching slightly inside of you. You had collapsed into him, all energy spent as you crashed from the second orgasm, from the brutal way he’d fucked you full. Poe held you and carefully dropped his legs, grateful there was no heavy current causing waves. The water was fairly still tonight, and therefore he could brace one hand behind him and the other pressed into your back without worrying he’d fall over.

As you both worked to catch your breath, Poe felt you shift. Sensing your needs, he moved his hips back and slipped from inside you, breathing out at the sensation. He already missed you.

“Poe,” You whispered into his neck, your head resting on his shoulder, “So perfect, that was so perfect.” The genuine happiness in your voice made him smile.

He sat forward, settling you into his lap and bringing your lips to his again, this time taking all the time in the world to lazily kiss you, his hands running across every curve and dip and swell of your body. It was more than sexual, now he was exploring you and memorizing every part, memorizing the spots that made your breath pick up and your mouth become more eager. He enjoyed it when you fought to taste him, your tongue eager to pull small groans from him as you slid over his.

After a short while, he pulled back and met your gaze, catching his breath at your blissful, fucked out expression. Your pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed.

“I love you, sweet girl,” Poe brushed his thumb across your lips. You melted into the touch, sighing in content.

When he swiped again and then began to push his thumb into your mouth, your eyes snapped open in surprise. You instantly closed your lips around him, “Sweet, perfect little girl, you were so good for me.” His gaze was darker now, he knew, as he watched your lips wrap around his thumb. He pulled it back out, his cock twitching. “Such an obedient, perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

Your heavy eyes were knowing, “Only for you. Take me back to our room, Poe.” You purred, and Poe was lifting you out of the water before you finished, a giggle escaping your lips.

Once ashore, he quickly helped you throw on your clothes, nearly tripping as he pulled his pyjama bottoms on in his haste. He saw then that you were shaky on your legs, so he swept you up bridal style and started back inside, grinning down at you as you continued to giggle excitedly.

“Walls are soundproof in there,” He murmured, and you abruptly stopped laughing, your eyes widening in a mix of anticipation and trepidation. “I’m going to spend the rest of the night tasting you.” His grin increasing at the way you gulped, eyes bright, and nodded your head.

“Not getting any sleep tonight, are we, Commander?”

“No, sweet girl, we aren’t.”

Did you enjoy this story? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Thank you 🤍

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pheeby-deeby · 2 years

Text

Taylor Swift Lyrics That Make Me Feral

This is based on lyrics ONLY. Not song moments; that is a separate list.

“And you come away with a great little story. Of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you.”

“So watch me strike a match on all my wasted time. As far as I’m concerned you’re just another picture to burn!”

“BURN BURN BURN BABY BURN”

"Back then I swore I was gonna marry him someday but I realized some bigger dreams of mine."

"I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairytale, I'm gonna find someone someday whO MIGHT ACTUALLY TREAT ME WELL"

“LET ME REMIND YOU FOR A MINUTE WHY WE’RE NOT FINE!!” (Yes I know this is from ‘Let’s Go (Battle)’ and it’s technically unreleased but I had to include it. I really hope we get it in a speak now vault track).

Just. All of ATW 10 minute version. Every single line. I cannot and will not pick just part of it for this list.

"For the first time, what's past is..past."

"I know the bravest thing I ever did was..RUNNN"

"How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22?"

"How did I go from growing up to breaking down?"

"She'll know the way and then she'll say she got the map from me. I'll say I'm happy for her then I'll cry myself to sleep"

(Okay maybe all of ‘Nothing New’)

Literally ALL of "I Bet You Think About Me." I fucking LOVE that song so so so much

"Now I'm Miss gonna be alright someday."

"GOODBYE Mr. PERFECTLY FINEEE! HOW'S YOUR HEART AFTER BREAKIN MINE!"

"I'VE BEEN MISS MISERY FOR THE LAST TIME, AND YOU'RE MR. PERFECTLY FINE!"

"Cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream"

"The rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming color"

All of "New Romantics," but especially "BABY I COULD BUILD A CASTE OUT OF ALL THE BRICKS THEY THREW AT ME" and also "HEARTBREAK IS THE NATIONAL ANTHEM WE SING IT PROUDLY" and "The rumors are terrible and cruel but honey most of them are true."

"So I PUNCHED A HOLE IN THE ROOF" and literally all of Clean

"And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em" (LITERALLY DON'T @ ME THE ENDGAME RAP IS GUN)

"IF A MAN TALKS SHIT THEN I OWE HIM NOTHIN"

"We can't make any promises now can we babe? But you can make me a drink." (Cue: ‘1, 2, 3, LETS GO BITCH!’)

All of Getaway Car

"I want your midnights but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day."

ALL of Dear John

"But you held your pride like you should've held me"

All of Last Kiss; but esp “NOW I WATCH YOUR LIFE IN PICTURES LIKE I USED TO WATCH YOU SLEEP”

“It isn’t love it isn’t hate it’s just indifference.”

All of ‘The Archer’

DBATC bridge

"in my defense i have none, for never leaving well enough alone"

“When you are young they assume you know nothing”

“Cause you weren’t mine to lose”

“And then it was bought by me…who knows if I never showed up what could’ve been?”

“You never gave a warning sign/I gave so many signs”

You cannot make me choose parts of ‘my tears ricochet’

“I’m still a believer but I don’t know why, I’ve never been a natural all I do is try try try.”

Second verse of ‘this is me trying’

The ‘illicit affairs’ bridge

All of ‘peace’

“Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in”

The champagne problems bridge

“and then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea cause it’ll never be”

ALL of ‘tis the damn season’

“Break free and leave us in ruins! Take this dagger in me and removed it! Gained the weight of you then lose it! Believe me I could do it!”

“No I didn’t mean that, sorry I can’t see facts through all of my fury. You haven’t met the new me yet.”

“I can’t make it go away by making you a villain”

“I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night now I get fake niceties. No one yea he’s you what to do when a good man hurts you, and you know you hurt him too.”

Okay just literally all of ‘happiness’ I can’t pick a few lines anymore I TRIED

ALL of ‘ivy’

Same with ‘cowboy like me’

“And he’s passing by rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. And he feels like home, if the shoe fits walk in it everywhere you go.”

All of ‘right where you left me’

All of ‘it’s time to go’ but especially the 2nd verse.

#this was gonna be a short list #but then #I realized that that was never gonna happen #taylor swift #swifties

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aseioh · 3 years

Text

Of Stars and Moonlit walks pt.3/?

Chapter 3: Evening with a view ( TRIGGER WARNING: PLEASE NOTE THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH SUICIDE OF A FAMILY MEMBER. )

Days blur into weeks as life continues to buzz around the Castle. With harvest season fast approaching, Alcina and her daughters has been busy. Thankfully, most of their ‘wine making’ operation is contained in the basement. Donna has never ventured below the castle, and even though she offered to help with their ‘harvest’ Alcina declined good naturedly. After all, the process of creating “Sanguis Virginis” was a family secret -even though all the Lords knew what was inside the wine- still she appreciated the offer.

Donna herself has been busy with helping Heisenberg in his factory, between this and her own work as Mother Miranda’s chief interrogator for prisoners, she was often left haggard at the end of the day. But beneath the tired feeling, Donna was proud of her work.

After all she was needed, she wasn’t disposable.

Donna remembers the first time she entered Heisenberg’s Factory and found it stifling. The metal doors that never seems to open and the constant smell of oil that permeates the air made her want to regurgitate her breakfast.

‘Heisenberg himself carries the same smell, along with the smoke of his preferred cigar.’ Donna muses as she makes her way to the hidden lift at the side of the front warehouse. The lift itself was a new addition, after Heisenberg noticed Donna’s reaction to the metal doors he graciously installed the one way lift for her.

“A direct access to our workspace! We need to be efficient and what better way than an ‘in and out way’. No need to walk around the factory floor.” Heisenberg boasted as he revealed it to Donna at the end of their first week working together.

Donna has never been more grateful with her ‘brother’.

The two of them shared a passion of building things, a trait Mother Miranda noticed early on and took advantage of. Donna with her dolls and Heisenberg with his technical proficiency, the two would always discuss their newest projects after every meeting.

When Mother Miranda said that she needed to expand her control, and increase their territory Heisenberg volunteered to make her a ‘mechanical army’, and with Donna’s help with in the early stages the plan was going along nicely.

Today had been a rather slow day for the two of them, after the field test of ‘Soldat’ prototype Heisenberg offered a break on their work. Of course, with nothing new on their plate discussions quickly turned to Donna’s stay at the Castle as well as its colorful inhabitants.

“So how’s the stay at the gilded castle?” Heisenberg inquired, as he lazily smoked his cigar, the red dot at the tip reminds Donna of the Soldats central weak point, something they need to remedy if they want the mechanical man to have a chance.

Donna sipping her tea frowns at the question. “Quite fine actually. I wished you would stop teasing Alcina, Karl. One day she’ll get so angry at you that you’ll end up as confetti on the floor”

“ohh, are we having a party Mistress” Angie pipes up from her stool.

“Now, now you know I’m only joking. and Alcina’s too strung up, it’s funny to piss her off. Besides I’m genuinely curious, are they treating you well? No headaches or nightmares? I know you get stress in new environments”

“I’m fine Karl, Alcina and the girls are lovely. Even Angie is having fun” at that the Doll nods enthusiastically. “As for the headache, its manageable, the herbal tea helps”

“and the last one?”

“Like I said, manageable.” She said with finality

“Right, you know I care about you Donna. If anything happens, you’re more than welcome to stay here. You’re friends are getting antsy sometimes but all is well here. I’m sure they’ll be happy when they know that their Mistress is in the same room as them”

“Thank you”

“Right enough about that.” Heisenberg extinguishes his cigar and stands up animatedly, walking to the side table with blueprints laying on top, he motions for Donna to follow him.

“So I have this new idea… what do you think if we attach a huge propeller at the head of one of the soldat”

The afternoon at Heisenberg’s factory just became interesting again.

----

In her dreams she wasn’t fast enough.

It was always the same scenario, her and Mother standing near the viewing docks of the waterfall. The sound was deafening but she can distinctly hear Mother talking and saying that she will always be there for her and urging Donna to run back inside the house.

Donna turns intending to follow her Mother’s order. She hears a soft “goodbye love” and when she looks back Mother is gone.

Gone. Gone.

Gone…

She makes her way at the edge of the viewing dock and looks down…

---

It was Bela's turn to patrol the corridors of the castle, with the harvest of maidens it isn't uncommon to see one or two of their 'prey’ to try to escape. As she makes her rounds near the guest wing she hears a scream.

‘Donna!?’

Bela hears Donna scream and rushes to the woman's room, thinking that someone had managed to escape and made their way to Donna's room or even worse. Bursting through and seeing there are only embers near the fireplace, Bela was about to light a candle when she was stopped.

"STOP!” Donna and Angie both shouted, the duality of their voices unnerved Bela. Donna was hunched over the bed, her hands shielding her whole face.

“Are you alright Donna?” Bela doesn’t sense anyone is in the room, and she felt her shoulders sag, she didn’t even realized that she was holding her breathe. Getting a better bearing of the room, she understands why Donna stopped her. ‘Ah, she's not wearing her veil’ quickly turning around the other direction she makes her way to the fireplace and stokes it back to life.

Donna still feeling the effects of the nightmare answers in short burst.

Bela doesn't know how to react on these situation, usually when one of them does experience nightmares they would just usually walk around the castle to decompress and shake the feeling off. On worst occasion when it was really bad they would knock on their Mother's door to seek comfort.

‘How do you comfort a woman?’

An idea forms in Bela's mind “Would you like to have a short walk? That usually calms me down when I suffer nightmares” Donna considers the invitation, sensing that Bela will not leave her easily she agrees beside she doesn’t really want to be alone right now. She wouldn't want to worry Alcina if she finds out she had this outburst.

“Yes, I would like that” Adjusting her veil she stands up and makes her way to Bela. “Angie will you stay here. Alcina probably heard that scream, will you tell her that I'm with Bela if she comes by?”

"Yes mistress” Angie agrees and settles by the wingback chair near the fireplace . Donna approaches Bela, touching her shoulder. Sensing that it’s alright to turn around, Bela faces the woman, based on the tensed shoulders and wringing hands in front of her, she makes a bold move and gently takes one of the hands.

"Come, I know the perfect place where we can go.”

‘She has warm hands.’ Donna though looking down on their joined hands. She wonders when the last time someone held her hand this way.

She comes up empty.

A quick detour to the kitchen for some tea and Bela leads them to the Castle Garden.

Thankfully, it was a warm night.

By this point Donna has managed to settle some of the earlier tension she's been feeling. She even managed to smile a little, although her companion cannot see it.

“I will always be surprised at how big this Castle is. Tell me are you also the one that tended to these plants?” Donna motions to the assorted flowers encircling the garden.

“Unfortunately not, we have the gardener take care of this area. I'm afraid I cannot tend to them when it becomes too cold.”

“I see.”

Silence follows, as they made their way to the center of the garden where a small gazebo was located.

“Are you feeling well now?” Bela asked after some time, hoping that the open air and the calm night has settled Donna’s nerve.

“Yes, thank you. You were right the short walk really helped.”

Bela can tell with Donna’s posture that she was still not a 100 percent alright, so she decides to distract the woman with questions. “How did you become one of the Four Lords?” at the question Donna’s head snapped up.

‘Shit!’ Bela blanched further, if that was even possible for her. ‘what the hell kind of a question is that? Mothers’ going to kill me’

Donna studies the woman in front of her. She weights her options on whether to tell Bela the truth or not.

‘You weren’t fast enough’ the intrusive thought taunts her on.

“First, do I have your word that what I’m about to tell you here will not leave and that you will not divulge my secret to your sisters?” Donna asked seriously as her voice takes on a lower timbre

“Yes”

“My Father was the village doctor and we have always lived at the Beneviento mansion. One day my Mother met an accident when we were out near the waterfall. I say an accident because that was what Father said, Mother slipped while I was turning to go back to the house”

“And the truth?”

“She jumped. I don’t know why and until now I have never learned her reasons, but one moment she was there and next she was just gone.”

‘Gone’ she hated that word and the absence it implies.

“My Father never recovered from the heartbreak, then one day he met an accident and I was left alone. Alone in the truest sense possible. The only one I have left was Angie” Donna pauses trying to catch her herself and willing her mind to not spiral down further.

“There were the house servants and the gardener a nice old man who taught me how to care for my plants, but other than them I was a ghost. Just counting my days, existing without living. Then one day Mother Miranda showed up.” At that, Donna smiled recalling the time that the woman suddenly appeared on the anniversary of her mother’s death.

An Angel with black wing. Or was it the Devil?

“She offered me salvation from my loneliness; she gave me the gift to influence others. The moment I’ve received her power, I gave a little of myself to Angie and I was never alone ever since.” Donna lets her story end. Looking at the young woman in front of her, she was surprised to find tears streaming down Bela’s face.

“I’m sorry, I know it was an upsetting tale-“ Donna starts only to be interrupted by Bela standing up and embracing her.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Bela whispers as she rest her cheeks on Donna’s head “But I hope that you will never feel alone again, Mother’s here, Cassandra and Daniela are here-“

“And you’re here as well” Donna finishes Bela’s sentence

Chuckling “Yes, not to mention, Heisenberg and Moreau. Donna, I swear as long as I’m here you will never feel alone” Bela declares as she tightens her embrace

Donna sinks further into Bela’s embrace and for once, she felt it.

She felt peace.

The two stayed in the same position for some time, With only the moon and stars as their witness.

#resident evil village #donna beneviento #bela dimitrescu #Donna x Bela pairing #Beladonna #Of Stars and Moonlit walks #karl heisenberg #alcina dimitrescu

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salty-ironstrange-shipper · 4 years

Note

Could you maybe post a long-ass list of good ironstrange fics because at this point, there's nothing else to do and you seem like you have great taste

puppets on a string

Summary: Stephen Strange is a villain. But a hot one.

Words: 103,206 (incomplete)

This fic is courtesy of our very own @funkylittlebidiot, so definitely give it a read!

Find a Way (to break the fall)

Summary: Stephen didn't think about it anymore. It had been buried deep beneath all the other shit he'd had to live through in the last couple of years and it didn't impact his day to day life in any way whatsoever. Until the day it does.

Words: 2,170

This one is short, but emotional and impactful. Warning for discussions of past rape/non-con.

The Brands We Carry

Summary: Tony Stark is almost thirteen years old when he gets ready to settle down to bed one early-early-morning and happens to look in the mirror on his childhood wall and catches sight of a circular brand on the skin above his heart.

“About fucking time,” Tony mutters, and goes to sleep without bothering to tell anybody he just cussed out a baby that’s only just crying its way into its new life somewhere on the planet.

The date is February 17, 1983. Happy birthday, whoever you are. Took you long enough.

Or: Tony Stark and Stephen Strange are soulmates. You'd think that would mean they would be perfect for each other right from the start, but it turns out that their soulbond is a long path of mutual distrust, dislike, and miscommunication. Just their luck.

Words: 10,497

I love a good soulmate au, and this is a good soulmate au. Very interesting look at both characters and also what happens if someone’s soulmate has a not insignificant age gap (though they only meet in person for the first time as adults)

A Crown of Thorn and Shadows

Summary: Anthony Stark, King of Blood and Darkness, ruler of the Unseelie court, did not expect to find Prince Stephen Strange of the Seelie chained up in his torture chamber, cold iron being driven into his hands. Stephen Strange, a Seelie healer, never dreamed of finding himself in the court of nightmares, being cared for by the king that the Seelie called a monster. They must work together to find the traitors in two Faerie courts that have not spoken in over six hundred years and reclaim Stephen's memories before the courts descend into war once more.

Words: 58,465

Wonderful fantasy au, great worldbuilding and relationship buildup. Lots of fun.

Villain Stephen Strange and His Obsession with Tony Stark

Summary: Just a bunch of prompty oneshots that are partially based but 100% inspired by Tumblr IronStrange Posts. Rated T-M

Words: 1,029

Do I even have to explain it? This is just fun.

Ten times outta nine, I’m a hand grenade

Summary: Though neither remembered that night, it turns out that Tony Stark and Stephen Strange had first encountered each other years earlier. Unfortunately, that might end up destroying the universe.

Words: 419,141

This is a loooooooooong boi. But oh, it’s a good one. Stephen and Tony basically go back in time, change the universe, and fall in love. It’s everything you could want from them. Complete with romance, angst, drama, and humor.

Where Severus Snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl

Summary: And then, as if he wasn’t already the most embarrassing estranged biological dad ever, Tony stopped in his tracks, raised his sunglasses (because of course he would wear sunglasses inside a lecture hall in April), and gave Professor Strange the most blatant, sustained once-over in the history of fuckboyness.

Then he put down his glasses, shot a winning smile at the teacher, and said, “Well, I’m Tony Stark, of course.”Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.

Words: 2,387

Stephen is a college professor. Peter is his student. Tony is having too much fun with this.

You Remind Me of a Man

Summary: Tony Stark cannot stand the overly opinionated and egotistical Dr. Strange and the feeling is extremely mutual.

Words: 44,788

Perfect no-powers au for them. They’re assholes who fall in love and see another side to each other. It’s amazing, 10/10 would recommend.

I am here

Summary: There’s a technical reason Stephen must surrender the Time Stone to save Tony’s life. It has to be done, and that’s enough for him to do it. But just in case, the universe decides to give him a personal reason as well.

Words: 11,708

This one is so soft. Basically, while looking through time, Stephen keeps showing up in the past at various points throughout Tony’s life. And then they fall in love! Good for them.

T For Tony

Summary: Your soul mark is the first letter of your soulmate's name. Stephen has an 'A'. But he's in love with Tony. Cue anxiety, jealousy, angst.

Words: 2,794

They’re so stupid in this fic. It’s great. It took them so much effort to remember Anthony starts with an A. (I still think this fic should’ve been titled A For Tony, but I didn’t write it, so)

something taken, something new

Summary: The ChronicConnection implement and app allows a person that lives with chronic or illness-induced pain to transfer their burden temporarily to a willing loved one. Tony and Stephen sign up as beta testers.

Words: 14,541.

I must’ve recced this a thousand times ..... AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN. THIS FIC IS THE PERFECT MIXTURE OF SOFT AND ANGST AND IF YOU DON’T READ IT, YOU’RE WRONG.

15 Million

Summary: For every alternate reality there were ten thousand alternate realities from that. And from those ten thousand more. And then ten thousand more off each of those. And so it goes.

The Avengers win once. There’s ten thousand versions of it.

Stephen Strange doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Tony Stark seems to be *his* victory.

Words: 2,755

Obligatory “Stephen looks through 15 million possible futures and falls in love with Tony in the process fic”. Can’t have a fic rec list without it.

Hero Swap AU

Summary: It's a boring day for the Avengers until Tony Stark attacks.

Words: 17,391.

Just pure, fun crack.

Only a Matter of Time

Summary: Captured by aliens, mistaken for a mating pair, Tony and Stephen find themselves having the universe’s most awkward honeymoon.

Words: 6,056.

Smut. Good smut, though.

Sunrise in Exile

Summary: Tony does the math and realizes their best chance to save the universe is by... not confronting Thanos on his own turf.

So he steals a wizard and a spider and a space ship. And he runs.

(Three humans and an A.I in space, the alien friendships they make along the way, and discovering how science and magic might coexist in a universe where they can be one and the same.)

Words: 352,079 (incomplete, has not been updated in a while)

A long fic set during Infinity War where they just ... run away to space. And it’s great.

Rewriting Icarus

Summary: Stephen and Tony, from the beginning to the end and beyond.

Words: 23,504

Pre-powers AU, except they fall in love then get powers. Sad, angsty, beautiful.

variations on a theme

Summary: Stephen sees into millions of possibilities and finds only one where they win, but he never expected to end up falling in love with Tony Stark in almost every single one of them.

Words: 5,134

Another Stephen looks through the possible futures and falls in love with Tony? ... Guess you can’t have just one.

Five’s A Party

Summary: It's an orgy fic, I'm not sure what else to say

Words: 2,639

... Not much I can add to that. Magic smut.

A Lapse in Judgement

Summary: Stephen, the newly minted Sorcerer Supreme, is strong, powerful, and in control of his life in every micromanaged detail, because failure to do so could result in (another) cataclysmic event within the universe. He is. But then Stephen accepts an off-handed offer to spar from Tony Stark – a man who is Stephen’s non-magical equal, a man who Stephen barely sees outside of bi-weekly meetings and the few and far between fight against a villain – and Stark discovers Stephen’s biggest weakness, his most hateful secret that is a deeply fundamental part of Stephen’s psyche.

Except instead of judgement, and horror, and disgust, Stark meets him halfway, and a lapse in judgement turns into a possibility that could change their lives forever.

Words: 22,694

This is the first of a series which was just updated (haven’t finished reading the new part yet, looking forward to it) and is just a really good, surprisingly soft and emotional BDSM series/fic.

Ironstrange Fics and Ironstrange Cinematic Universe

Oh, how did these get here?

Yes, I��m reccing my own work. I’ve written 29 fics and 377,132 words for this ship, I think I’m entitled.

Ironstrange Fics is a collection of every ironstrange fic I’ve written, short, long, sweet, angst, and everything in between. Ironstrange Cinematic Universe (itself responsible for 49% of those 377k words) is my ironstrange rewrite of the MCU specifically. Please read, enjoy, and leave comments, I’m not updating any fics for a couple of weeks and I need the validation.

#long post #very long post #asks #incorrect-ironstrange #ironstrange #fic recs #fanfiction #ironstrange fanfiction #my fanfiction #Anonymous

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pearldouglas · 4 years

Text

forever stuck in our youth- ch 1

summary: A CUTE LIL FIC ABOUT A SUMMER CAMP CLOSING AND A WEEKEND GETAWAY, A SLOW BURN FIC

pairing: platonic obx cast x y/n, eventual drew starkey x reader

word count: 1.7k

a/n: so i didn’t want to write about (redacted) being rudy’s gf since i know like 3/4′s of the fandom is not a fan of her so i made up an oc and yes.... she’s me. i also gave jd a gf too, just go with it bc he deserves just as much love. also i have no idea if madison used to work at a summer camp, pls don’t question it

When Madison walks into the hair and makeup department of set one morning, you can immediately tell she’s upset.

“What’s up, buttercup?” you ask as she sits down in her usual chair. She lets out a long sigh and you frown as you take her hair out of the top knot sitting on top of her head, wondering what’s got her in such a bad mood.

“I just found out the summer camp I used to work at is closing down,” she rests her cheek on her palm and pouts. “I know it’s silly to be upset about it but I really loved it there, it was a big part of my life. Kinda felt like a place I grew up is just getting torn down.”

“It’s not silly,” you reassure her quickly, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze in attempt to comfort her. “I loved summer camp, I can see why you’re so upset.”

“I just wish I could at least go say goodbye to it,” Madison sighs again before looking down at her hands. You’re quiet for a few seconds as you begin to think, the silence filling the trailer uncomfortably.

“Well then, why don’t you?” you ask. She looks up immediately at your reflection in the mirror with her nose scrunched up in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” she asks.

“Filming for this season is almost over, you’ve got a lot of time on your hands. Why don’t you go spend a weekend or something? I’d even go with you! It could be tons of fun!” you smile brightly at her. Madison turns around to look at your face, her eyes bright and full of hope.

“Really? You’d do that?” she asks, her voice about to break. You nod rapidly.

“What’s going on in here?” Madelyn asks as she walks into the trailer, you assume Chase isn’t far behind her.

“Y/N and I are gonna take a trip to the old summer camp I used to work with, you should come!” Madison says, her voice now happy and full of life.

“Is this just a girls trip? Because if so, you know I will be crashing,” Rudy’s voice startles you, you turn around and see him sitting in the back of the trailer and you wonder how long he had been sitting there or how you didn’t notice him before.

“Why don’t we all go?” Madison suggests. “Cline, Chase, JD, Y/N, Mariah, Rudy you could even bring Lily if you wanted.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Madelyn says as she jumps up and down and claps her hands excitedly.

Rudy smiled at the mention of his girlfriend. “JD will want to bring Tayla too,” he points out.

“That’s totally fine.”

“Great, I’ll be the only single one there,” you let out a laugh, Madison hits you in the stomach lightly with the back of her hand.

“Shut up, it will still be fun,” she assures you and you nod along with her words.

“I know, I can’t wait!”

About a week goes by when suddenly you find yourself packing all your summer essentials in one suitcase and sleeping soundly in a car as you and all your loud friends make your way to what Madison had described as ‘a little piece of my childhood.’ You were excited, really, but watching all the cute couples around you made your heart sink. Sure, you were all happy for them, but you wanted someone to experience a summer romance with you too.

“So I talked to the guy who owns the camp,” Madison explains as she turns around in the front seat to look back at the rest of you. “He said that he left a lot of the old equipment there and that we’re free to use any of it since it’s probably just gonna be donated at the end of the summer anyway.”

“What kind of equipment are we talking about?” Rudy calls from the very back seat.

“Fishing poles, bunk beds, oh and did I mention jet skis?” Madison smiles which causes the whole car to erupt in loud cheers.

“What did you wanna do first, baby?” Mariah asks as she looks over at her girlfriend. Madison reaches over and grabs her hand.

“I think we should settle in first, unpack and get everything ready, then we can go for a good old fashioned swim in the lake. After it gets dark out maybe we could have a bonfire and make s’mores or something?”

“That sounds amazing,” Mariah smiles.

The ride continues on, the sound of all your friends conversations are drowned out by your headphones. Eventually you feel a soft shake of your shoulder and open your eyes only to realize you had fallen asleep on Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks growing an intense shade of red as you took off your headphones.

“No big deal,” JD lifts his shoulders into a shrug. “I just wanted to wake you up since we’re here.” You look out the window and see a bright red cabin sitting under the sun.

You smile and immediately jump out of the car, shielding your eyes from the brightness as you take in your surroundings. It looks just like a cliche summer camp with an arch over the cabin door that says the camp name. You get a feeling you’re on the set of a bad 80′s horror movie.

“So where are we staying?” Chase asks as he pulls suitcases out from the back of the van. You can’t tell if hes being sarcastic or not, considering the bright red double story cabin standing proudly in front of you.

“This is where the counselors would stay,” Madison explains as she gestures to the large building. “And the campers would stay a little farther down. The counselors have a bit more privacy and it’s nicer but technically speaking if you wanna be alone you can stay in the campers cabin.”

“Can we go look at the campers cabins?” you perk up. Madison turns to look at you with her nose scrunched slightly in confusion “As much as I love all of you guys, I don’t really wanna be rooming with only couples and hearing what you guys get up to in the middle of the night.” this causes Rudy to laugh.

“No, you definitely do not,” he agrees as he wraps his arms around his girlfriend whose face you notice is getting significantly pinker. JD lets out a gag.

“Yeah, I can show you the way to those cabins. Are you sure you want to be all alone though? It can get a little scary at night,” Madison asks you, her voice suddenly full of concern. You purse your lips together and nod your head.

“Yeah, I mean how bad can it really be?”

Bad, the answer to that question was.

It turns out unpacking and settling in took much longer than expected and you were all exhausted by the end of it, plus the sun had already gone down so there was no point in trying to go swimming and you were all too tired to start a fire. So you all just decided to call it a night.

And being alone in the campers cabin was definitely not a good idea.

First off, it was freezing at night so you were left to wrap yourself up tightly in your blankets. Secondly, it was so loud. The animals outside decided it would be a good idea to scream outside your window so you were left listening to owls and wolves howl the entire night. However you would have much rather preferred those noises to the ones you were sure were coming from Rudy and Lily’s room.

And lastly, no one talks about how scary it is to be alone at night.

You thought you hadn’t been scared of being alone at night since you were a little kid. Turns out old habits really die hard. You were sure someone was going to burst through the front door and put a bag over your head and drag you off into the night with you kicking in screaming. So naturally this resulted in you having horrible nightmares and a bad nights sleep. But you refused to tell that to your friends when you met up for breakfast in the morning.

“Hey, how did everyone sleep?” Madison greets, holding her cup of coffee with both hands and close to her face in attempts to warm herself up.

“Great!” Rudy announces, his mouth full of his breakfast.

“From the sounds and looks of it, you didn’t get much sleep did you?” you tease him, looking over at Lily who has tired eyes and is in the middle of a yawn. Rudy shrugs.

“What about you, y/n? How was your experience alone out in the campers cabin?” JD perks up, desperate to change the subject.

“From the sounds of it, I think I slept better than all of you guys combined,” you joked even though it was a complete lie. Everyone in the group laughs.

“Are we ready to go swimming?” Chase asks, throwing his napkin down on his plate.

“Aren’t we supposed to wait 30 minutes until after eating to go swimming?” Mariah asks.

“Isn’t that bullshit?” Madelyn rebuttals.

“LAST ONE IN THE WATER IS A ROTTEN EGG!” Rudy calls as he stands up and runs out of the room, JD running quickly after them which causes Tayla and Lily to yell for them.

“None of us are wearing our bathing suits!”

Eventually, everyone did make it down to the water. Rudy ended up beating JD in their mini race which resulted in JD pushing him off the dock which made everyone laugh, even Lily. Everyone else jumped in the water after that and were swimming around for a while before someone spoke up.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” Lily asked.

“No, why?” Madison asked. Lily points to the front of the camp where another car is pulling up. Turns out, this is a campy horror movie which will result in your death.

“Is that-” Chase starts. “No way, he said he couldn’t make it this weekend.”

“Who? What? What are you guys talking about?” you ask as you examine everyones faces and notice it was someone they all recognized. Then, out of the car, wearing swim trunks and a button up, steps out one of your close friends.

“I finished up filming early, now the fun has arrived!” Drew yells, causing you to smile.

Looks like you won’t be the only single one on this trip after all.

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

A/N: AYYYY FIRST CHAPTER IS UP!!!! this fic is based off a cute dream i hate that i told tayla @taylathornton about and she persuaded me to write a fic about it so.... here it is. also i hate the ending to this but whatever.

#outer banks #outerbanks #obx #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x you #obx cast

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jesussavedevenme · 3 years

Text

To Be A Knight

This is the beginning of a collection of one shots following Seth's adventures as a Knight of the Dawn

Description: Like most young boys Seth had always dreamed of being a spy. He had spent most of his childhood sneaking around the house with a walky-talky while humming the Mission Impossible theme song. And while he technically still wasn't a spy,he was pretty darn close.

May 20

St.Matthew's Island, Alaska

6:25 pm

"Sorenson, I've got a job for you." came a gruff voice from down the hall. Seth turned and saw his handler, a man by the name of Flynn Hotching, leaning out of the door to his office. Flynn was a tall and strong man with a broad frame. At fifty five he was in excellent shape and the only indications to his age were the flecks of white that were sprinkled throughout his dark hair and neatly trimmed beard. Flynn was a serious man and often gave off an intimidating vibe, but Seth knew that he wasn't that bad once you got to know him.

Seth stood, ignoring the way his back popped and cracked in protest because of how long he had spent sitting in the rather uncomfortable wooden chair. He had once started a petition to replace them with those really comfortable bean bag chairs. He actually had quite a few supporters. But Flynn, being the man he was, just rolled his eyes and walked away. Seth could feel the stares of his fellow knights burning into the back of his head as he made his way over but opted to ignore it. Seth got missions quite frequently, a fact that many knights were slightly jealous of since it would occasionally get him out of some the more mundane tasks a Knight had to complete. For example, paper work. Which is what he had been doing when he had been called. He quickly made his way over, eager to get away from the evil sea of inevitable paper cuts. He couldn't help but chuckle as he mentally heard Eve calling him a drama queen. Though she wasn't much better.

Flynn barely waited for the door of his to close behind him before he began pouring out the details of whatever job he had lined up.

" There's a dealer that's been causing us some problems. They are preying on creatures such as unicorns and there has been some rumors that they are working with some less than savory characters. I need you to track them down. " Flynn stated firmly. Seth narrowed his eyes, there was no way it was that easy. If it was that simple then they would have brought in a rookie.

"Ok, what's the catch." He replied crossing his arms over his chest.The man heaved a sigh before sliding a file towards him.

" The catch is we don't have any idea who the dealer is. We don't even have a description. However, all of our dealers crimes have a certain flare to them and we have reason to believe that he is human. We have intercepted news of a deal taking place in three days in Belize. "

Seth read the file and whistled at the lack of information. The file was extremely limited which meant that whoever was doing this knew what they were doing. The Knights of the Dawn had excellent connections and kept tabs on every possible threat so for them to be this uninformed- well lets just say it wasn't good. It also meant he was walking into this mission completely blind. He couldn't plan for anything meaning he had to plan for everything. He had no idea what was going to happen once he got there but, if you ask Seth, that was part of the fun.

"Alright I'll do it." Seth replied after a moment of thought. He had to admit he only pretended to think about it, mostly just for the suspense. He had always loved a good mystery and this mission honestly excited him.

"Good, your plane leaves tomorrow at eight am sharp. You will be issued a bag that will be stocked with supplies but I advise you to bring anything you think would be useful" He said gesturing to the satchel over his shoulder, that served as his emergency kit. " I have wired five thousand dollars into your account but if you need more than that you know who to call." Seth nodded, placing the folder in his satchel and walked out of the office, heading to his apartment to prepare for the mission ahead. He pulled his coat tighter around his body as he walked outside and realized that it was later than he had originally thought. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon and though Seth loved the pinks and oranges that painted the sky, he could practically feel the temperature dropping. Last time he had checked it was 25 degrees, which is no where near as cold as it could get but it was still very cold. Despite how long he had been in Alaska, he had yet to get used to the bitter cold. And he honestly didn't think he ever would. Seth guessed he should count himself lucky, this was the Knights biggest base and it had been cleverly hidden by distractor spells as well as the natural terrain of the island. Seth shivered as a strong gust of wind blew through the base reminding him of the other reason it stayed hidden from most people. Luckily he lived on the grounds of the base so it was only about a minutes walk.

The Knights of the Dawn had no shortage of money. Seth wasn't sure how they got there hands on so much money and honestly he didn't want to know. It was all warranted though considering how many supplies they had to buy along with the amount of damage control. It was amazing sometimes how much chaos a secret organization could cause. Seth knew he definitely wasn't the favourite over in the legal department because of some of the 'incidents' that had been a result of his missions. Seth was proud to be able to state that these incidents were few and far between but when they did happen he knew they had to be a nightmare to clean up.

Needless to say, with all that money, his apartment was very nice. It had a decent size living room and kitchen which connected go a small dining area. Upstairs there was two bedrooms and a bathroom. Seth's furniture was pretty sparse if he was being honest. He had a couch that had been there when he moved in, his bed, a desk, a small dining table that has also come with the apartment, as well as few chairs scattered here and there. It didn't bother him in the slightest. He honestly wasn't here that often. He slept there when he wasn't out on missions which, once again, was pretty rare. Besides the real fun began downstairs. He walked down the stairs into what appeared to be a musty, unfinished basement. A punching bag hung from one of the exposed beams and a small pile of weights sat not far from it. Seth rarely used those, they were reserved for restless nights when the big communal gym and training area was closed for the night.

Seth strode confidently towards the back wall and slid away a lose board revealing a keypad. It was truly a horrible hiding spot for something that important but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. The neat thing about the keypad though was that it had been enchanted so that he was the only one who could touch it. Meaning that not only did you need the correct code, but he had to be the one to punch it in. He wasn't exactly sure what would happen if someone else touched it but he knew it would do more than just set off an alarm. Stuff like always made Seth feel like a true spy and totally made up for the unsecured hiding space.

Seth punched in the code and heard the distinct sound of stone scraping on stone, briefly reminding him of his few days spent in the Sphinx's prison. When the sound stopped, a small opening was revealed that lead to a room containing his weapons and supplies. From the outside the room appeared to be tiny and cramped but it had also been enchanted to be much bigger on the inside. It wasn't quite as big as the knapsack they had all those years ago but it was nothing to sneeze at. Still, no matter how big it was on the outside, Seth had to crouch down to fit through the opening. The door frame was ridiculously short and the amount of time he had smacked his head against the top was honestly embarrassing. The supplies inside the room was a knights dream. There was everything you could dream of, swords, daggers, armor, bows, you name it. The special thing about this room though, was that most of the items were his. They were things he had gathered prior to becoming a knight. Seth also had several magical talismans and tools that had gotten him out of more than a few sketchy situations. His favorite talisman was a ring that sat on his right forefinger. The ring had been a gift from The Fairy King when Seth had been accepted into the Knights Academy. It was pitch black and didn't look like much at first glance however, when you looked closer you could see three unicorns that were engraved on its surface, each of which served more functional purposes. The first unicorn, when pressed, sent out a distress signal strong enough to reach Bracken even if he was in the fairy realm. The distress signal also went out to anyone who had a connected talisman. At this point the only ones being himself and Kendra who had gotten hers when she officially began dating Bracken in the form of a bracelet. The second unicorn held a few precious drops of unicorn blood. The substance could heal almost anything but it could only be used once. The final unicorn was arguably Seth's favorite. When it was pressed it would release a pearly white dagger which had been extremely helpful in the past. The downside to this tool was that, since it was made of light, he tended to have a harder time controlling it.

Seth looked through his stash, trying to decide which weapons were right for this particular mission. He knew at this point stealth was key but if you leave for a job without a weapon, you're just going to get yourself killed.

When going on stealth missions the best route to take is small weapons that can be easily concealed, such as daggers or blow darts. However, the problem with that was those were easily detected when going through airport security. Ever since becoming a knight Seth had decided that he hated flying. It was loud, chaotic, and absolutely impossible to tell who was a danger to you.

Plus carrying weapons onto the plane was pretty much impossible but, a knight needed to be prepared in every situation. The weapon had to be easily accessible, ready at a moments notice, and the best way to do that is to build a weapon that doesn't look like a weapon. Seth walked over to a small red tool box tucked away in the corner, and pulled out a large nut and and tied a piece of cord to it. He secured the cord and then started to spin it, making sure nothing was going to fall off. And just like that he had a weapon that made a killer whip and could easily crack a mans skull if it came down to that. The best part was that it wouldn't trip any alarms. Sure it might seem a little odd that someone carries a piece of cord tied to a nut but, he wouldn't get arrested for it. Seth tied the lose cord around his neck, creating a necklace that he could hide underneath his shirt until it was needed. When that was finished he turned his attention to his emergency kit and sifted through the various items, taking out anything that would tip off a scanner. Seth gathered the items that he had taken out and moved towards the suitcase that he would be taking with him. He felt around one of the sides and unzipped a pocket so small that you most likely wouldn't see unless you knew it was there. In the pocket he placed the remaining items of his emergency kit. This time he wasn't worried about the items being seen as the pocket had been enchanted to hide the items from sight. Seth then repeated the process with the bottom of the suitcase, peeling back the inside to reveal a similar compartment that had also been enchanted to be bigger. In this pocket he placed two daggers, A blow gun and darts, and his favorite sword. He pulled the sword out of it's sheath and inspected it for any chips or dull edges. The sword was jet black and held the name Shadow Slayer, which was kind of ironic given its nature. The sword held just enough darkness to work well with him but not so much that there was a risk it would corrupt him. He had found the sword while on a mission for the fairy realm not long before joining the Knights. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to use it because lets face it, milk or no milk a sword was still a sword. However, Seth had learned that it payed to be prepared. So with that thought in mind, he placed the sheathed sword in the compartment, closed it up, and began to carry it upstairs to his bedroom. He filled the rest of the suit case with clothes and other essentials and once he was satisfied that he had everything, he closed it up.

He slumped down in his desk chair and pulled out the file he had stashed in his emergency kit, pouring over what little detail it had and attempting to prepare for what was to come.

†††††

May 21

St.Matthews Island, Alaska

5:00am

The next morning Seth was up well before five am preparing for the mission ahead. Thankfully he had always been a morning person so the early hour didn't bother him in the slightest. He grabbed his bags and exited the apartment, heading to the missions office to pick up the final things he would need for this job.

The lady at the desk, He pretty sure her name is Jennifer, smiled at him as he approached the counter. She was a women in her mid thirties and she was one of the nicer people that worked the desk. There were quite a few of the people working here that obviously didn't want to and others who even seemed to resent it. Seth really couldn't blame them though, he had worked here for a few months while he was going through training and it definitely hadn't been the most fun or exciting job out there.

" ID and case number?" She asked as more of a formality than anything else. Seth was such a regular visitor that he was pretty sure they knew who he was. However, since it was required, he slid showed them his badge and rattled the number off anyway. Seth supposed that he coukd see the logic behind the badge. It was a way of identifing someone beyond ther looks. All of them had been enchanted fo return to their owners, generally via their pocket, should they be lost. Seems simple and secure enough. However, in their line of work things were rarely that black and white. Seth is not entirely sure what would happen to the badge if their was a stingbuld or if the enchantment could be removed. Luckily they didn't do much. They were just means of identification and they didn't let you into anything at all. Any area qhich required a certain level of access had several different enchantments placed on it. Ones that were designed to recognize the person requesting access and weed out potential imposters. After the battle of Zzyzx and the whole mess with the Evening Star, the knights had undergone huge security upgrades. Bracken as well as one of his sisters, Iredessa, had set mist of the enchantments. Kendra had also played a major part on strengthening these enchantments a few years ago.

The case numbers were pretty harmless. Not the most secure but all they did was let the people at the desk know what bag of supplies to get. It didn't give access to any crucial or confidential information. The most a fake could get was an issued duffle bag and possibly some.plane tickets.

Jennifer smiled as she stood and disappeared through a secured metal door. When she returned a few minutes later she was carrying a black duffle bag which she passed to him over the counter along with a two way plane ticket.

"Thanks a lot," Seth told her, flashing a bright smile her way. She hummed in response before responding,

"Stay safe out there,"

"I'll try my best," Seth replied with a grin as he headed towards the door and began the short treck to the parking lot where a car would take him to the airport. He knew he must have looked a little funny carrying around a huge duffle bag, suit case and a leather satchel that sat across his shoulder but he wasn't worried. Every Knight here had been in similar situations before. Seth looked around the parking lot, squinting in the bright morning sun, before making his way to the small grey jeep that sat close to the front. Leaning against the side was a tall guy with wind blown red hair and a lean build. Seth smiled when he spotted him. The man's name was Parker and he was one of Seth's closest friends here on the base. They had gone through training together though, Parker was about three years older than him. He was twenty-four while Seth was only twenty-one. Seth, unfortunately, hadn't had a lot of friends at that time. Because of his shadow charmer status, people tended to be wary of him but Parker had never been deterred by his abnormal abilities.

In between his own missions Parker volunteered to drive Knights back and forth to the airport. Due to Seth's frequent missions, the two usually ended up paired together.

"Another one Sorenson? Didn't you just finish that one in Sweeping Pine preserve like a week ago?"

" Yeah, Jealous?" Seth teased, raising his eyebrows. Parker laughed and shot a playful glare at the taller boy. Despite Parker's tall height, he was still at least and inch shorter than Seth. Though to be fair, not many people were taller than Seth. A fact that many people found unsettling.

" Just a little bit dude. What, you trying to show the rest of us up or something?" Parker laughed back, poking Seth in the side as he got into the car. Seth rolled his eyes as he loaded his bags into the car before following Parker's lead. They road in silence for several minutes as Parker navigated his way out of the crowded base and set up the directions to the international airport. It wasn't everyday that a Knight flew internationally for a mission. Generally if they were going to somewhere outside the country they were going to a preserve and would have to be flown there by helicopter or other means. So while it did happen, it didn't happen often.

Seth used the temporary quiet to unzip the bulky duffle bag and look at its contents.

Looking into his bag for a mission and seeing the certain supplies or gadgets still made him a bit giddy. Like most young boys, Seth had always wanted to be a spy. He had spent most of his childhood sneaking around the house with a cheap walky-talky while humming the mission impossible theme song. And while he technically wasn't a spy, he was pretty darn close. One of the common misconceptions about the Knights of the Dawn was that they didn't use any human or modern technology such as computers and other gadgets to do their job. However that was far from true. Sure they tended to avoid it when dealing directly with magical creatures, but they often used these gadgets for things such reconnaissance.

Inside the bag was some of the things you would expect such a binoculars and many more that you wouldn't expect. Seth's favorite part of these bags were the small box near the bottom that generally came with each one. The box contained different potions that you might need for the mission. Seth had always found potions to be fascinating. There had even been a time that he had considered going into the field himself. For this particular mission he had been given a night vision potion which was pretty self explanatory, An eavesdropping potion that enhanced his hearing and allowed him to listen in on a conversation without getting too close, and a form of truth serum that would loosen the lips of of someone you wish to get information from. There was at least three bottles of each along with the normal defense and first aid potions that were added. Such as, the gaseous potion, a potion for pain, a salve for injuries and many more. On top of that Tanu insisted on making sure that Seth was always stocked with his own personal set of potions. Tanu usually supplied him with more gaseous potions, a gummy potion, a giant potion, a new potion that enhanced his focus and his reflexes, as well as plenty of first aid related ones. He seemed to be convinced that Seth would end up seriously injured on every mission. Though sadly, Seth could admit, that the worry wasn't completely unfounded. Other than the potions, the bag contained an enchanted communicator, a few listening devices, a laptop, and a few other useful knick knacks.

" Got anything good in there?" Parker questioned.

" You bet," Seth replied holding up the box of potions that was in his bag even knowing that with his friends eyes on the road and so Parker probably couldn't see them. Parker laughed anyway not needing his eyes to know what Seth was referring to.

" Seth, I swear I have never seen anyone get so excited over potions before."

" What can I say, I'm a simple guy," He replied earning a scoff from Parker.

" Uh huh, says the literal Shadow Charmer who has a mission every other week," The pair laughed once again and fell into an easy back and forth banter. Continuing there shenanigans until they pulled into the airport. It was then, as much as he, loathed to do it he bid Parker farewell , thanked him for the ride, and walked into the crowded airport.

Arriving at the airport was just as hectic as he expected it to be. Of course it was crazy for everyone but, it was even more so when you are constantly looking over your shoulder or waiting to get stopped by airport security. Thankfully he was able to board the plane okay even if his makeshift weapon did raise a few eyebrows.

Something Seth had learned was that a knight should always fly economy. It may not be the most comfortable but few people would start a fight with that many witnesses around. Plus it was easier to blend in. A tee shirt and some jeans and you were all set. Ready to settle in for a long flight.

Seth popped one ear bud in his ear but left the other out in order to let him hear incoming threats. Seth found it impossible to sleep on a plane, no matter how long the journey was, because of the unknown circumstances. It would be difficult to keep an eye on people and to know who was a threat. Unlike Kendra, Seth hated reading. Only a few books had every managed to hold his attention for any.period of time. He was too restless. He would much rather be doing something outside. Moving and exploring. He didn't mind doing art, sketching being his favorite. However, that was difficult to do in a crowded, bunny plane. So Seth resigned himself to a long ride half listening to music and ignoring the guy beside him who vaguely smelled like onions.

††††

May 22

Corazol, Belize

4:45 pm

Seth stretched his stiff legs as he walked from baggage claim to the exit of the airport. He breathed deeply and relished the feeling of the sun on his skin, even though he knew he would quickly become hot. But, after a long eight and a half hour flight, they were welcome changes. He glanced at the clock hung on the wall and noted the time. He knew that Corazol Belize was about two hours ahead of Alaska. Not that it mattered. Seth was pretty much immune to jet lag at this point. Not necessarily because of the constant travel, though that certainly helped, but because of the erratic and uncertain sleep schedule he had become used to while on any mission. His body had become well trained in sleeping whenever it was told. The only thing that interrupted this was nightmares but he rarely got those while on missions because his mind was too focused on other things. Seth would never admit it but that's one of the reasons he takes on as many missions as they will give him.

Seth's hotel was not far from the airport so he opted to walk there. He had done some research the night before and found a hotel that he rented under the name of Roger Alpine. The Knights would usually rent one for you but Seth preferred to do it himself. To say the hotel he chose was run down would be putting it nicely. The paint was peeling horribly from the siding and it was definitely not on the nicest side of town. The rooms were separated from the outside by a door with A flimsy looking lock, something Seth would secure once he had settled in. The room held a musty scent mixed with the smell of cigarette smoke. There was a bed in the center of the room, covered in some unsettling stains, a side table and lamp beside it, and a desk under the window. The window itself had a pair of thin ratty curtains and crooked blinds. There wasn't much Seth could do about the window, except string up a blanket, which he did. Opening his suitcase and removing his clothes, he opened the hidden compartment. From inside he took out the pieces of his emergency kit that he had stashed. He also opened up the duffle bag he had and pulled out a few other various knick knacks that he thought he might find useful. He then empty the remaining items into the compartment at the bottom of his suitcase. Leaving the duffle bag empty. This was.common practice for Seth in a place like this. He didn't want to leave his unused supplies in a relatively unprotected duffle bag while he was away. Unfortunately this was something Seth had learned the hard way.

In the end Seth was left with: the box of potions, a rope, a small bottle which held a thin dust that immediately soaked into the skin upon contact allowing the victim to be tracked, dark sunglasses (which did indeed have a camera and microphone installed) , a slingshot, some marbles( which as Seth had found were great for distractions), binoculars, and a pair of ear buds. All of these things were packed neatly into his emergency kit, ready for use. He still had his makeshift weapon secured around his neck and two knife secured in a holster and strapped to each of his legs. He had glanced mournfully at his sword but knew that it would only draw in wanted attention. Besides today wasn't about getting into a fight. Today was about exploring Corazol and getting a lay of the land. Still it played to be prepared, hence the knives. Finally, satisfied that he was ready, Seth left the dingy hotel room and began to wander along the streets. Searching for anything that might lead him in the right direction.

Corazol was a quaint little sea side town. You could smell the salt in the air, carried by the cool breeze. Corazol was small in population but it also had its fair amount of tourists. Especially right now with summer just around the corner. The busy streets were lined with street vendors all vying for his attention but Seth was more interest in searching his surroundings. The smells coming from said street vendors were heavenly and caused his stomach to crumble loudly reminding him that not only had he not eaten breakfast this morning, but that he had been walking for over an hour. Technically he could have rented a car, he definitely had the funds for it, and most Knights probably would. However Seth, was not most Knights. He didn't like rental cars for many reasons, one because it was easier to see a car and a license plate then just someone walking in a crowd. Two, every rental car was required to have trackers and such in them to prevent theft which was fine in most cases but problematic for him. That wasn't necessarily a huge risk but it was still one Seth wasn't willing to take. Maybe he had grown paranoid, but he was still alive so there's that. Finally he didn't like rental cars because, in his line of work, it was likely to get beaten up or destroyed. Plus having a car would cause him to miss out on the unique sights, sounds, and smells. That is yet another thing Seth loved about his job. It allowed him to travel the world and to see as well as, experience things he would never get to otherwise.

He had to admit this was a good place to go if you were going to hunt for artifacts and magical creatures and then illegally sell them . The Cerror Ruins were only a few miles away and Seth knew that it was a prime spot for missing person's cases, especially when people wandered off alone. He hoped beyond hope that he wouldn't have to venture there during this trip but, that's definitely where he would go if he was an illegal dealer trying to avoid the Knights as well as any other prying eyes and ears. Plus it wasn't exactly a place you would expect anything big to happen. And besides the Cerror Ruins, their wasn't really anything magical about the place. It honestly seemed kind of ordinary. It was perfect because it tended to be overlooked.

After another thirty minutes had past, the rumbling in Seth's stomach became too overwhelming to ignore and he resolved find a place to eat. He stumbled upon a small hole in the wall restaurant that seemed to be pretty popular amongst the locals. Meaning it was the perfect place for Seth to gather some information.

Even though he worked directly with magical creatures, you'd be surprised how many times he had to interact with regular people. The knowledge gathered from these people was often shaky at best and should definitely be taken with a grain of salt. However, this information often helped him form some semblance of an idea. In his experience Seth had learned that regular people noticed a lot more than even they realize. In addition most people never pass up a chance for a good gossip. And since they didn't know how valuable their information was, they were a lot less stingy with it. The only problem you run into is when they begin to ask questions and wonder why you're asking and who you are. When that happens you become the subject of gossip and word will eventually get back to you enemy. That's why Seth hated small towns. The information might be easier to come by, but it was also easier to get caught. And getting caught meant revealing your mission too soon.

In his line of work , timing was everything. Move in too soon and you risk blowing you cover as well as the entire mission. However, if you don't move in quick enough you'll miss your chance to get your guy. That perfect timing came only when you knew you enemy better than they knew themselves. It came from careful observation and lots of Intel.

Gathering Intel was arguably one of the most boring and tedious parts of Seth's job. It involved a lot of waiting, listening, learning, more waiting, and every once and awhile, a well calculated risk. Luckily, for Seth, his shade walking gave him an edge in this particular area. The ability allowed him to get closer to his enemies so he could overhear plans and put together one of his own. However no ability came without its share of risks. He had gotten a lot better at learning to shroud himself in the shadow to help cover his movements when shade walking but it wasn't an exact science. Not adding enough shadow would reveal his position should he happen to move too quickly however, adding too much shadow could be just as revealing.

Seth's favorite way of gathering Intel was doing exactly what he was doing now. Finding a place to eat while he sat back and listened. Small places like the diner he had just entered were prime spots for gossip. Additionally, they gave him an opening to talk with the locals in a relatively unsuspicious way. People tended to loosen up and talk more freely when both parties were eating. Plus it gave Seth a reason to try all the local dishes. Most of which were pretty good. The smell of home cooked food hit his nose the minute he walked through the door making his mouth water so much it was a wonder he didn't start drooling. He was met at the entrance by a plump, kind looking lady, who appeared to be somewhere in her mid fifties judging by the gray streaking through her black hair. The hair was pulled tightly into a bun at the back of her head, accentuating her full rosy cheeks. He apron stated that he name was Rosa which somehow seemed to fit her perfectly, even thought Seth didn't know her. She gave off a very motherly vibe that instantly made Seth feel at home. With a smile she led Seth to a table and asked him for his drink order. To which he replied with a simple black coffee. Coffee was something Seth had quickly become addicted when he became a Knight. It often helped him through the multiple all nighters he pulled while on a mission. Some minutes later she returned with his coffee, this time ready for his order of food.

" What would you recommend. I'm from out of town so I'm counting on you to hook me up with the good stuff," He said with a wink. Rosa laughed heartily and replied with a thick accent,

" Well only for you I will tell you my personal favorite," She rattled off the name of a dish which sounded completely foreign to Seth but he wasn't going to admit that.

" Ok then, you've talked me into it,.I'll get that," He replied and as Rosa turned to leave he continued, " And could you do me a favor and just wave your little magic wand and take all the fat and calories out for me," Once again Rosa replied with a full bellied laugh.

"You are a funny man. But for you I will have to add extra. Maybe then some of it will stick. You look like you need it," She teased in return before turning a leaving Seth alone once more. He leaned back in his chair, and pulled out his phone. Absent mindedly scrolling through something or another and trying to hide the fact that he was listening to the conversations around him. The diner was loud, making it difficult to discern the voice of only one person. Seth was tempted to use the potion he had that would hone his eyesight and hearing but didn't want to waste it seeing as he only had one. It would be unfortunate to use all of it now at the beginning of the mission when he could need it more later on.

His thoughts were interrupted by Rose who had come with his food. Seth was shocked at how quick the service was seeing as it was rush hour and the small diner was packed to the gills. With the meal she also brought his check. Seth glanced at the check, surprised at the low prices considering the quality of the food.

" Well would you look at that! you must have given me the senior citizen discount!" He paused for the laugh that he had come to expect and then followed up with, "So what are some cool things to do and see while I'm here, anything particularly interesting?"

" Oh well the Cerror Ruins are always a prime spot for tourism but you must be careful to stay on the trails. Too many people wander off and go missing. One of my favorite things is to see the sights at night. The water takes on this stunning color and you can see the star as clear as day. But if you choose that route you best stay away from Devils Tavern. Its on the North end of Corazol, close to the beaches. That place is nothing but trouble, and full of shady characters, especially recently," Rosa said. Rosa was obviously the type of person who talked openly once you got them going. The last part of her sentence caught Seth's attention.

" Really, shady people in this town? Surely not everyone seems so nice,"

" You are young. You haven't seen the darkness of man. People are not always as they seem child," She replied with a sad smile. Seth internally rolled his eyes. If only she knew. " But yes, a week or so ago , this man arrived and came into the diner to eat. He seemed normal enough even if he was a bit rude. However, later that night I saw him outside the Devils Tavern, its on my route home you see, and he was talking in hushed tones with another man. They were standing in the shadows real creepy like. I wasn't really able to hear what they were saying but they didn't sound to happy and they looked like they were planning something, " Rosa finished with a grim look on her face. A look that didn't last long as it was replaced with her usual bright smile.

Seth stored the information away for later, and smiled brightly in return. Acting as if the information had no effect on him at all. Something that had always made Seth a good agent was his poker face. He had a good control over which emotions showed on his face. This was a vast contrast to Kendra who tended to be easily read, like an open book. One with pictures and big letters. A fact that Seth ,and surprisingly Bracken, had teased her relentlessly for.

" Well I won't keep you, thanks for chatting with me . And I will be sure to check out those suggestions," He said, putting an end to the conversation. Seth then dug into his food, nearly moaning at the taste. It was incredibly good. Probably one of the best meals he's had while on a mission. While he ate, he began to sift through the information that he had been given. As always he had to wonder how much of it was true, seeing as people had a tendency to exaggerate. He also couldn't bring himself to believe that Rosa stumbled upon the Devil's Tavern, a place she claimed to despise, on her way home. From what he had seen of Corazol most of the housing was away from that part of the beaches. He wasn't going to completely discredit it but as Rosa had said, people aren't always who they seemed. However, no how much truth there was in the statement, one thing remained true. Tonight he was heading to the Devil's Tavern.

†††††

May 22

Corazol, Belize

10:00pm

Seth walked through the darkened streets. Careful to remain close enough to the street lights so as not to unintentionally shade walk. He had gotten a lot better at controlling it but it still happened from time to time. And he couldn't afford giving himself away like that. Just in case there were eyes watching him that he could not see. He had done a pretty good job of keeping on the down low. After lunch he had wandered around the streets a bit more and then headed to the beaches. Particularly the part of the beach close to the Devil's Tavern. The Devil's Tavern had been relatively quiet during the day. The sign had stated that they were opened but it had seemed oddly empty. That was a stark contrast to what he was seeing now.

The tavern now seemed to be packed to the gills with people. And even more of them were standing outside. Even from where he was standing a few feet away he could hear the loud music that played he could see the bright, colorful lights shiny through the windows. As Seth drew closer he saw a problem. Standing at the door was a big burly man wearing dark sunglasses and a tight short sleeved T-shirt that accented his bulging muscles. He was shorter than Seth, most people were, but he made up for it in width. Seth was considered to have pretty wide shoulders and his years of training had hardened his muscles into steel cords. However, none of this reassured him as he stared at a man that looked like he could snap him in half like a twig. He wasn't scared of the man per say. But, he was definitely cautious.

As Seth approached the man he seemed to be doing his own analysis and his stance showed that he didn't feel even the slightest bit intimidated. Which was fair and actually worked to Seth's advantage He had done his best to tone down the darkness of his aura that seemed to put people on edge. Plus the leather jacket he had opted to wear hit the bulk of his muscles, which weren't overly pronounced to begin with, as well as a few... other tools. Aside from the daggers strapped to his legs and the makeshift weapon around his neck, he had three throwing knives cleverly hidden in the folds of his jacket. Unfortunately, much to Seth's displeasure, he had once again leave his sword behind. As weird as it may sound he felt like the sword gave him a better sense of security than the multiple knives strapped to his body. He was dangerous with both weapons and that was disregarding the fact that he was a shadow charmer. So even without the sword, he was hardly helpless. Still, he always felt oddly bare without it. A look settled on the bouncers face. A look that Seth had often seen on bullies when he was a kid. In the end that was all this guy was. A bully. And obviously he saw Seth as his next victim. However, despite all the scenarios Seth was mentally planning for, all the man did was sneer. Seth did his best to pretend he was scared as he entered the building

The air smelled heavily of alcohol and the music, which had been loud before, now seemed to shake the floor. He immediately began to weave his way through the sweaty bodies packing the room searching for signs of anything that was amiss. You would think that a place with this much chaos would make it harder to find anything let alone one person but for Seth it made it easier. If there was one thing that the file full of its limited information had taught Seth was that this guy was far from careless. He wouldn't risk anything that might loosen his tongue. The rest of the people in this place shared no such caution. So find the guy who can walk a straight line and that was probably who Seth was looking for.

He hadn't been searching for more than five minutes when something caught his eyes. His eyes darted to what had caught his attention and and, confirming his previous suspicions to be true, he found Rosa.

†††††

So there is part one!!!! Most of this collection will be one shots but seeing as this z alone is over seven thousand words I figured I needed to split them up. I will hopefully be able to post the next part very soon. It needs a few touch ups and changes but.other than that its.practically done. This took SOOO much research its not even funny. I'm pretty sure trip advisor things I'm moving to Belize. Anyway I really hope you all like it, it is probably one of my favorite fics to date so let me know what you think. I apologize for any mistakes you may find. Let me know what adventures you want Seth to have in this book or any other requests you have!!!!!

#fablehaven #dragonwatch #fhdw #seth sorenson #Knights of the dawn #i loved writing this one

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citrusella-flugpucker · 4 years

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All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described… those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #su fanfiction #su fanfic #long post #(it should be considering there are 78 FICS IN HERE)#THIS POST IS ITSELF THE SIZE OF A FANFIC #(68 fics not 78)

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hoodedwing · 4 years

Text

Sleep, Red Bucket

Summary: Tim and Jason work together on a case. Just that, Jason had a hard week and maybe just 3-4 hours of sleep.

Characters: Jason, Tim, Alfred (mentions), Avalanche (no, not from X-men. It’s an original enemy for a man named Snow here)

Warnings: Child drug rings, Drugs, Wild night terrors, Unconscious self-harm, Vomiting, Blood, Injuries, Swearing,

Additional Notes: I used way too much references from The Crown and this is a sickfic

Word Count: 2,233 words

***

Tim stretches a little from where he's sitting on the couch, running his hand through ebony locks as he tapped away on his laptop. He was secretly glad that he managed to sneak out of the Manor, after being ratted out by Jason for not sleeping. He had barely escaped after being coddled by Dick (that man in spandex sure can hug) and hovered over by Alfred. Sighing contently, he closed the webpage he was on and gave a quick glance at the clock.

It was still eleven, nearing towards twelve actually. He knit his eyebrows in slight annoyance, Red Hood and him had arranged to meet at twelve and he wasn't here yet. Tim assumed Jason probably had a run in with some bitch of a gang or seeing the kids or whatever he does at Crime Alley. He had long learnt not to touch that area, last time saw him with a batarang held against his throat.

Ironic for someone proclaiming to hate Batman. Tim snorted.

He was well into his thought loop when he heard the sound of metal against his window. Tim's head shot up and he hastily grabbed his bo-staff laying on the couch opposite him. Silently, he crept towards the curtains and laid to wait. The sound grew louder and he heard irritated whispers or the wind, he couldn't exactly pinpoint.

The window opened and Tim nearly smashed the intruder's head from behind when he heard a panicked yell.

"The fuck?!"

Tim breathed a little before yelling back. Oh thank fuck, its Jason only.

"And you couldn't use the damn door like any other human?"

Jason allowed a snort to escape before walking resolutely to the couch where he sat down rather heavily and let out a small sigh.

"I died, I'm technically not human or I mean does that count?"

Tim rolls his eyes and settles back on the couch where Jason was laying stretched rather lazily and flipping through the case files, with his hood still on.

"So, as far as I know. Snow has multiple bases in Bludhaven. Wonder how Dickface hasn't run into him yet."

"Dick knows him as Avalanche. That's what he calls himself. Different street names."

"He'll fall eventually."

Tim almost laughs but he cannot exactly tell if Jason was joking or just plaintively didn't give two fucks. It also sounded a tad more tired.

"Mhm. Anyways, his largest base is pretty near your territory. I think you know it like the back of your hand."

He offers tentatively, trying to rebalance the edge of tension in the room.

"Yeah. Got it."

"Do you need-"

"No. He's on my turf. I get to take him out."

Jason takes slightly longer than he does to get up. Tim sees it but doesn't call him out on it. He really doesn't want another stab mark. he watches Jason climb out of the window.

"Oh and Jason?"

Jason turns, in zero mood right now because the small throbbing in his head has grown a little.

"What?!"

"Get some shut-eye."

He scoffs and leaves.

—

Some hours in, Tim decided he wanted coffee so he gets up to go make himself.

He hears a faint rustle and pin drop silence. He quietly grabs the dang bo-staff again. As he creeps along the rooms, he hears the sound getting louder. It sounded like someone was having trouble.

He almost shits himself when he sees Red Hood asleep. In his apartment.

Tim narrows his eyes and does a quick surveillance of Jason's things. He sees empty cartridges and shell casings lying at his feet

The only physical response was Jason's head tilting at an angle and soft snores filtered by the Hood.

Huh, he's back and asleep. Already?

"Jason?"

Tim raised an eyebrow at Jason.

"Mm?"

"Oh good. Just checking if you're alive."

Jason turned on himself, curling his legs under himself.

"Al'wys am, Replac'ment. F'k off. Lemme sleep."

Tim frowned slightly as he inched his hands towards the hood but a gloved hand comes out of nowhere and squeezes Tim's wrist tightly who now lets out a yelp.

Tim pours the coffee but the thoughts of Jason doesn't leave his mind. Something wasn't so right about Jason. But then, nothing was ever right with Jason.

Was he bleeding? He did return late from whatever he was up to. He did slur his dreaded nickname. He refused to take off his hood. Was he sick? Did he eat?

He hears a loud scream that interrupts his second thought loop of the night. Tim almost spills the coffee on himself and half stumbles-half runs to the source.

Jason.

"J..Jason?"

Erratic breathing greeted him. Tim steels himself as he nimbly types the correct combination and takes the hood off against Jason's order. He isn't about to let someone die in his apartment.

Why does everything have to end up so damn difficult?

Tim barely glances at Jason as he shakes him.

"Jason. Shh. Jason?"

Jason doesn't comply, the thrashing increases in intensity as he yells his throat raw. He claws his forearms, scratching the scarred skin in nightmare-delirium. He manages to draw blood which gently falls onto the white couch, turning the area into a crime scene wildly in contrast to the source of blood. His eyes were tightly shut, thick black lashes glued to his sweat covered cheeks

Tim restrains Jason, tries to grab his hands but he manages to fucking fling Tim across the table. He crashes at the bookshelf, wincing when his arm whacks against a particularly thick encyclopedia.

Ah, he thought, the pain of knowledge.

He quickly gathers himself and sees Jason thrashing on the couch, whimpering like a wounded animal.

"What the fuck. Jason? Can..can you hear me?"

The whimpers alternate into raw screaming, it leaves Tim's heart cold and skin prickled. He doesn't have to know what Jason is thinking. He needs to snap the nightmare loop before he decided his throat was next and he-

Focus, Tim.

Tim rummages everywhere in the apartment, heartbeat loud in his ears. He knows it was best to wait it out but it was almost like it was a loop. He spots a whistle, one from the Charity Games Bruce hosted. Yeah, he remembered that one pretty well. Grayson won the race and he blew the whistle right in his face. Jason laughed and Barbara poked fun at him later on it.

He quickly blows the whistle at Jason who shot up with a frightening velocity. Tim literally held Jason down, stunned into silence.

"Jason?"

He only pinched his nose-bridge, other hand clenching the couch tightly.

"Do you want water?"

"No"

He barely croaked, turning on himself like a wounded animal.

Tim fetches a glass anyway. He also brought some bandages to wrap his forearms. Quietly, he does so, rubbing alcohol into it alternated with small flinches. When the procedure was done, Tim stepped back a little.

Jason turned on himself again, shaking. His eyebrows were drawn in pain, breaths almost wheezing. His face was now alarmingly pale and eyebags almost like bruises cover below his tired eyes

Tim didn't know what to say to him. Jason might shoot down all chances to talk about it.

"I'm going to take your temperature, is that okay?"

No answer.

Tim awkwardly fumbles around, he needed distraction to come up with a way to talk about it. There was no way he was leaving Jason in that terrifying loop he saw.

He knew he had the latest state-of-the-art thermometer that took temperatures in seconds but he chose the mercury one to buy time he needed to calm himself. He returns back to Jason who sat up again, hand resting under his chin.

"I'm not sick."

A whisper barely above the rattling of the heater.

"I still need to check, I haven't ruled out fever dream. You look like shit."

"Course."

Jason lets Tim do it as he quietly counts to the 180th second. Tim removes it and sees it at 96.

"That's cold."

"Anemic."

"Oh, that wasn't in your files. I'll add that in later."

Jason lies down again and his eyes flutter closed. Tim properly gives Jason a onceover, he looked almost vulnerable underneath the glinting armor.

"You haven't eaten, have you?"

His eyes open slightly again, eyes squinting at Tim's undisguised worry.

"Won't stay down."

Tim bit his lip. This was bad.

"Can you handle some soup?"

"Try to, can't promise."

Tim gets up to reheat the soup Alfred left for him two nights ago but something in him nags to not leave Jason alone with his thoughts. He puts on The Crown and unpaused at where Queen Elizabeth hears about Jackie Kennedy's unflattering comments about her.

Tim quickly takes the soup out and shoves it in the microwave. His work could wait another day or two. He had checked the camera feeds momentarily and saw zero sign of the target.

The microwave beeped and he takes it out, carefully pouring into two bowls and bringing it to the living room where he now sees Elizabeth doing the foxtrot.

Tim places the soup at the table and gives one to Jason who cradles one in his arms, eyes unseeing at the television. Tim carefully watches Jason's face. His cheekbones had hollowed slightly and were clenched. Probably an aftereffect defense mechanism. Tim thinks.

"Do you feel like throwing up again?"

An imperceptible shake as his eyes glue at Philip yell at Charles while dangerously maneuvering the plane with tears streaking down Charles' face. Tim sees something momentarily shift in Jason at dad yelling at son.

Oh shit, trigger, trigger, trigger.

Tim abruptly switches off the television. This time, Jason properly turns at Tim.

"Why?"

Tim narrowed his eyes.

"Its..nothing, Jason. Not letting you go through that hell I saw."

"Funny you say that, been happening for two weeks straight."

Jason spits it with vitriol. Tim physically feels the force of the words. Biting, cold, hard. He moves back, as if the force displaced him. How the hell did Jason still have enough strength to do that? a half of Tim wondered.

He tried to open his mouth but settled to stretching his lips into a thin line.

"I said don't-"

"I'm not about to fucking ask or clarify anything remotely related to what just transpired. Listen to me carefully, all I want to know is whether you're sleeping enough. Yes or no?"

Tim hissed, chin dipping down with practiced ease. Jason seemingly curls onto himself more before grumbling, this time lacking the usual bite.

"Three in four days. Fuckers won't stop fucking recruiting kids on my territory to sell drugs. The hell am I supposed to do? Sleep while the kids get roped in a sick fuck of a game?"

Tim nods in understanding, clearly regretting his outburst. He watches Jason sag heavily against the couch and tip his head back. His eyes were pinched shut this time with his jaw tightening with more of the earlier tension Tim noted. He laid a hand on Jason's temple and carefully, he inched his hand throughout his head, warm fingers making their way through. He hears small sighs of relief when he reaches the sides. Tim slowly maneuvers Jason onto his lap and continues to stroke his sweaty bangs. Jason only winces again at the bright, florescent lights

"Headache?"

"Mhm."

He turns on himself, groaning quietly. he places an arm over his eyes. Tim continues to massage his temples, rubbing reassuring circles.

"How bad?"

"..."

"Want painkillers?"

Jason shakes his head, lights glaring in his eyes and everything spinning.

"Hate..meds. You know..that."

Tim seemed to consider that but got off the couch.

"Be right back, I'll dim the lights."

Jason almost whimpers again at the lack of heat of Tim's fingers as the dull throbbing increased and pounded behind his eyes. Jason wished he could will the damn thing to stop, if he could only sleep it away without the fucking nightmares. He curled on himself for the umpteenth time that night, wishing he was dead again.

He feels a dip in the couch and then firm fingers return, pressing hard. Jason gasped out.

"T..Tim."

"Sorry. Is this better?"

Tim apologetically whispers as he decreases the pressure against the wild throbbing. Jason silently hummed in agreement and leaned into the touches.

"Sorry, I overstayed.. I should go."

"You would, if you slept enough. How many hours did you get just yesterday alone?"

"Got here right after the run-in with Snow and be'fre was the druggists."

Tim narrowed his eyes while Jason closes his, worn out by the small conversation.

“What about you?”

He smiles a little at that, always caring about someone else before himself.

"Alfred made me sleep two nights ago at the Manor. I hid out here to find that intel."

"T'hts n'ce."

Tim places his hand on Jason's shoulder and watches as Jason's breathing evens out into soft snores. He threw on a blanket and quietly took his laptop to begin work, the soft blue glow illuminating the room.

“Tim?”

Jason sleepily opens one eye to where Tim settled down with his laptop. He motions Tim to join him who hesitates before lying down beside him. He presses a quick kiss on Jason’s forehead before adjusting himself under Jason’s neck. Jason only let a small hum of approval before encircling Tim with a soft hug.

“G’night.”

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thepurplesquip · 4 years

Text

OC character building

This is based off of an OC character building that I made, so why not answer the questions for my OC Alice.

1. Do they have a morning routine that they do to get ready for the day? What about a night routine?

Yes to both.

2. Is there anything specific that they need before they go to bed? A night light? Warm milk? Maybe a story?

She listens to music and does some stretching to help her relax and unwind before bed.

3. Do they have a skin care routine? If so is it long or short?

Yes she does. In the morning she tries to keep it fast and simple with maybe 3-4 products, but at night she has the longest routine ever! I'm talking an hour/hour and a half with almost 10 products

4. Do they like tight clothes or loose clothes?

She prefers loose clothes because they're easier for her to move around and fight in.

5. What is their favorite color?

Blue (can you guess why?)

6. What kind of stuff do they dream about? What do they have nightmares about?

She's doesn't remember most of her dreams, but the ones she does remember it's usually about her with her friends or other Rook. Usually about not being able to save her friends or being in a situation where she doesn't have her weapon and isn't with the others.

7. Do they have any special talents? Singing? Dancing? Playing an instrument?

She sings, knows ballet, and plays the piano.

8. Are they active? If so what do they do? Workout? Play a sport?

Yes. She used to do ballet and gymnastics growing up, but now she trains and works out with Rook.

9. What is something that they are really passionate about?

She's really passionate about her inventions and her career as a plumber.

10. Do they ever have a self care or 'me' day? If so, what do they do?

Yes 100%. It usually depends on of she wants to go out or not. If she goes out she'll go out shopping or something, but if she's staying in it's movies and face masks.

11. What's something they're secretly really insecure about? Is it something physical or maybe something related to who they are or what they identify as?

She is secretly really insecure about openly identifying as bisexual, afraid that people would think she would act as how people stereotypically think bisexuals are (examples being bisexuals always cheat, they're actually gay/straight, but they're just lying, ect.) She's also insecure about her looks. Growing up her mom tried to put her in pageants and she noticed that all the others girls had pale skin and long straight hair and that really messed her up for a while. She's gotten more confident about her looks, but now she's still a bit insecure about her natural curly hair.

12. Have they ever dated? If so how did their last relationship end?

Yes. At the plumbers academy she dated a female Loboan named Elena halfway through her training, but noticed that Elena was getting possessive and clingy, so when they both got transferred to different plumber bases on different planets Alice promised her that she would keep in touch with her and never did... and before you say anything yes she knows that ghosting her was a bad thing to do and she still regrets that decision to this day.

13. Do they care about quality or quantity with their work?

Quality.

14. What is their favorite scent?

She loves the smell of coconut oil and vanilla

15. What is their favorite genre of music?

She doesn't really have a set favorite. It's a mix of classical/ballet music and a handful of pop songs

16. What do they usually have for a midnight snack?

It's either peppers and hummus, something sweet, or Rooks Amber Ogia that's he keeps in the fridge (don't tell Rook)

17. Have they ever snapped because of what someone said or did to them? If so what happened? Do they regret it and did they apologize?

Not yet

18. Do they have any kind of medical condition? If so what? Asthma, kidney disease, ect.

No.

19. Have they ever had a panic attack? If so what caused it and how were they able to calm down?

Not yet

20. What are they genuinely afraid of?

She's afraid of getting into a fight or mess that she can't save herself from without her friends

21. How organized are their living spaces? Do they keep things clean or are they disorganized?

She tries to keep things clean and organized

22. If they ever had a YouTube channel, what would they make videos about?

Either videos about science and tech or beauty videos

23. Do they have a birthmark or any scars? If so how do they feel about them and how did they get their scars?

She has pale scars on the wrists that look like lighting. She got them after her staff electrocuted her while she was fighting off one of Ben's enemies

24. Are they the type to start or finish fights?

She usually ends fights, but depending on if someone said something bad about her or her friends, she will not be afraid to start throwing hands.

25. Do they like cuddling? If so are they a big spoon or a little spoon?

Um yes! Depending on how she feels, she's either.

26. Do they prefer baths or showers?

Showers in the mornings and baths at night

27. How do they sleep? Do they stay in one position all night or do they toss and turn? Do they snore or talk in their sleep?

She's a bit of a heavy sleeper, but is somehow always able to wake up to her alarm. She rarely tosses and turns and depending on what she's dreaming about she may mumble in her sleep

28. How touch starved are they? Would they like a hug right now?

She loves hugs so technically she's always a little touch starved and yes, she would love a hug.

29. What are their favorite kinds of foods? Sweets, sour foods, salty, ect?

She prefers sweet and spicey food.

30. Do they still have anything from their childhood? If so what and why? A stuffed animal, a piece of jewelry, a book, ect?

A book. It's a fantasy adventure book that her dad used to read to her all the time when she was younger. She keeps it because it reminds her of how she wanted to one day be a hero, just like the characters in her story.

Let's try and make this a challenge. Answer these questions for one of your OC's and tag at least 3 people to help spread this around. I'm tagging @gritsandbrits @minecraftninjerkid and @agtheawesome

Have fun!

#oc ask #oc questions #oc building #oc challenge #oc

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saeyoungs-sunflower · 4 years

Text

To Weather a Storm (Saeyoung x MC)

Oh, Saeyoung. How I have missed you.

Summary: It’s easier to hide from the storm, but do you really want to waste away under your shelter, having never danced in the rain?

Warnings:

Some violence, blood and brief mention of torture.

General angst (with a happy ending)

Songs:

I Dreamed a Dream - Les Miserables

Already Gone - Sleeping at Last

After the Storm - Mumford and Sons

Come What May - Moulin Rouge

Fic and notes under the cut.

A/N: Okay, I know I tend to ramble at the beginning of a fic but I feel like these need to be said, for my sake. You’re more than welcome to ignore this, but I gotta get these off my chest. This fic includes and was based on a poem I wrote a little while ago, which I know sounds horribly pretentious and pompous, but I had the idea for this fic weeks after I wrote it and it didn’t seem complete unless I included it. In addition, because it was written before the fic, it is personal and I feel very vulnerable posting it here, but once again I felt like it made the fic whole. I’m also anonymous on here so really, how vulnerable can I be? I am no poet, I am aware of that, but I am someone with a lot of emotions and a desire to express them. The poem essentially comes in two parts, the second part being written when I was having a better day. It may not seem that deep, and it probably isn’t, but it holds weight for me. That being said, here is some Saeyoung x MC, and I suppose, a little bit about myself. I hope you enjoy :)

“Why do you resist the calm?” they had asked.

Because calm comes with the promise of a

storm,

And the sting is much less felt from a fall

Out of an angel’s grip

Than a fall from their grace.

“Then why do you resist the storm?”

Because now, I have all the more to lose.

——

“But then answer me this,” they persevered,

“Would you not favour risking the fierce strike,

To feel the heavens kiss your skin

And witness the electric sky,

Than to waste away within your borders,

Having never learnt to dance in the rain?”

He was killing himself.

Eighteen years old. At this rate he wouldn’t live to see nineteen, inching closer to death’s cold embrace with every sleepless night and every meal skipped. Even off hours he was working, his fingers trembling as they danced across the keys for hours, days on end. He just needed to prove he was the best. He needed them to trust him.

Saeyoung was still technically in training, despite the fact that he was likely the most skilled hacker in the agency, let alone amongst the recruits. The agency were thrilled by his skills and work ethic, which was exactly what he needed.

He needed them to trust him to the point where they were dependent on him. If they needed him, then he would remain in the agency for as long as he lived, and therefore his other half was safe for that same length of time.

Whilst the agency didn’t care for their agents’ wellbeing in the slightest, they cared about losing something valuable to them. And, in this case, it was 707.

“They sent me to tell you to go the hell to bed,” came a voice from behind him.

He kept his eyes glued to the screen, “Then tell them to fuck off.”

“So you have a death wish?”

“You don’t?”

With a weary sigh, you sat at the computer next to him and he finally looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and his face devoid of any colour. Or life, for that matter. You looked him dead in the eye, “I get what you’re doing, but you’re not going to be any help if you’re a corpse.”

“I don’t care. That’s the boss’ problem, not mine.”

“I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about the person you’re protecting.”

His eyes shot to yours in panic, and you laughed despite yourself, “People don’t come here for a holiday, you idiot. Everyone who’s here is here for a reason, and we all know it’s the same reason.” You were the exception to that rule, but that wasn’t necessary for him to know.

He reclined in his chair and shut his eyes for what felt like the first time in days. Maybe it was.

You placed your hand on top of his, the action startling him a little, making you chuckle, “Listen, you don’t have to do all this. You’re better at this than all of us combined, the boss adores you. You have nothing to worry about, okay?” the soft smile that graced your features was enough to make Saeyoung feel more at ease. You were too kind. You didn’t belong there.

Your eyes flickered towards his computer screen and you sighed again, “I’m going to get you some water and some food whilst you finish up, but then you are getting some sleep.”

Saeyoung watched you as you left, and wondered how such a warm soul had found themselves in such an icy place. You were taking a huge risk by caring for him, and yet you did it without hesitation nor complaint. He couldn’t tell if that was down to altruism or naivety. He suspected it was both.

After you returned, he ate and drank as you took over his work, finishing the last bit of coding before shutting down the computer. He was surprised by your effortless ability to continue from where he left off, but was even more surprised by your willingness to do so. You stood up once you both finished and held out your hand for him, which he took, letting you hoist him to his feet as he discovered he was too weak stand on his own. With one arm around you for support, you led him back to the room.

Every recruit slept on the floor in the same damp room, and with your designated space being directly next to Saeyoung’s, you got to know one another. Not much, not at all, but a little goes a long way in such wretched circumstances.

You learnt that his mouth twitched when he had a nightmare, so you always woke up when it did so. He learnt that you subconsciously twiddled your thumbs when you couldn’t sleep, so he’d watch over you until you went still and your breath evened. Little by little, you learnt to look out for each other. You were in it together and, at least for a while, that was enough.

Usually, forming relationships of any kind within the agency was forbidden, but since he was the boss’ golden boy, he could get away with anything he damn well pleased. Not you, though. And whilst you were kind, you were no doormat.

The next morning, during working hours, you kicked up a fuss (rightfully so, Saeyoung thought) about a guard whose hands were wondering in a place they had no business being. The agency were not impressed by your reaction. They didn’t like your stubbornness or your strong will. They didn’t like your self-awareness.

You were taken away, and Saeyoung didn’t see you again until you came to bed long after the sun had set. You were practically chucked into the room, your crumpled form a heap on the hard floor, the cold biting at your bare skin.

Saeyoung struggled to see you in the darkness, but he could just about identify your silhouette as you heaved yourself up, dragging your weight towards your space. As you got closer, he could start to see the glisten from the tears that coated your face, trickling over bruised and slashed flesh. When you laid down, he carefully moved his hand to envelope yours, stroking the back of it with his thumb - a silent message carrying all that your feeble heart needed to hear. I’m sorry you went through that. I’m here. It’s not happening anymore. I’m not going anywhere.

You’re not alone.

His warm breath tickled your face, and you knew that if you edged forward, your forehead would meet his. With a moment’s hesitation, you did so, and that was where you remained until morning, desperately clutching on to the only sign of humanity that could be seen for miles, and the only man to touch you without teeth bared.

From then, you slept every night like that, inching closer and closer until finally his lips hesitantly grazed against your own. Tentative fingertips roamed over pebbled skin, and with a hand cradling your neck and a stroke of his tongue against your bottom lip, you welcomed him to take you completely with his illicit kiss. A reckless attempt to feel something, anything other than pure agony.

You were only children. Naive, daring, broken children who had never known love of any kind, but were somehow able to offer it.

You wished it could still be enough, that your quiet entanglement could be your one reason to hold on. But the tightrope you walked on became more turbulent everyday.

It was an enormous risk, but a risk you would take.

The guards became more hostile towards you after your incident, and their tolerance had reached an all time low. You were reported more often and your punishments became more brutal. You realised then that Hell wasn’t a place, it was a snap of a belt and a knick of a knife, a knee to the gut. You needed to escape.

A month after this began, you sent him a message. He was a good enough hacker that he was able to set up a chatroom that only you two could access, and that wouldn’t be detected by those higher up. It was your only safe haven, a trench on a battlefield. But burying yourself away from the action didn’t mean the war had ended.

606: I’m getting out of here.

707: there’s only one way out, and you what that is

606: That’s only if I don’t run fast enough.

707: they’ll kill you

606: Then so be it.

707: i’m not going to let that happen

606: It’s not your problem.

707: it is if it’s you.

606: You don’t even know me.

707: i know enough

606: I’m sorry

That night, you didn’t come back to your bed, and there was no sign of you other than the chilling echo of a gunshot that resonated through the building. Saeyoung crushed his eyelids shut, yet the tears still flowed as his teeth dug into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, the bitter mix of salt and iron consuming his taste buds.

A rumour got around that you had tried to run and were shot on sight. You were used as a cautionary tale for new recruits. Apparently they had the CCTV footage. Apparently they showed them the pictures. Saeyoung wouldn’t know, he stopped listening.

From that day forward, he put his headphones on and worked. He worked until his fingers bled and blistered, reminding himself everyday of why he couldn't rock the boat unless he could see the shore, especially in such turbulent waters. You took that chance, and you couldn’t even swim.

Saeyoung found your name two days after you disappeared.

MC.

A picture of you from your life before also came up in his search, and he threw up in the bathroom as the image of you smiling slowly morphed into that of your limp and bloodied body, eyes wide open as they pierced into his own, haunting him. One day he would avenge you, and one day, in another life, he would see your smile again.

But today, he had to work.

“Why do you resist the calm?” they would ask.

Because calm comes with the promise of the

storm,

And the sting is much less felt from a fall

out of an angel’s grip

Than a fall from their grace.

***

“707! On your right!”

Swivelling around, Saeyoung deftly aimed his gun at the guard approaching, landing a perfect shot between the eyes. His aim was so accurate, in fact, that he landed it with his own eyes closed. He never looked, he could never stomach it. “Vanderwood, you keep a look out. I’m going to scope out the place.”

“Roger that.”

Missions were the most onerous part of the job for Saeyoung. With every bullet and every crimson stain on another body, he felt a piece of whatever innocence he had disappear. Scar tissue was harder than skin, and at that point, he felt he had no softness left.

This mission, however, was particularly demanding. The opposing side outnumbered Vanderwood and himself by a long shot, but they somehow managed to hold their own. They were both convinced they had taken down everyone in the building, so he was caught off guard when he entered what he thought was an empty room, only to find himself face-to-face, or gun-to-gun with someone who should have been dead hours ago.

Or, upon inspection, years ago.

“...MC?”

He lowered his gun but you kept your hold strong, eyes never wavering from his. His mouth was agape as he took in the sight before him. Your hair had grown, you were thinner, and he could have sworn your eyes had lost their colour.

But God, there was still something so ineffably beautiful about you. That much hadn’t changed.

Saeyoung had dropped the gun completely, the clash of metal against metal pervading the room, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“Yeah? Well I believed you to be dead for years now so I think my question is a tad fucking more valid.”

For a split second, he swore he saw your lips quiver before you pressed them into a thin line, “You were always a better hacker, 707, but I was a better frontliner. I got away with merely a bullet to the arm. But as they say, birds of a feather flock together, and it wasn’t long until I was found and recruited by someone else. Fate never favoured me, clearly.”

You held your aim, but he noticed your eyes go glassy and your knees almost buckle under your weight, and only then did he register the wound on your thigh and the ominous maroon pool on the floor next to you. His heart rate shot up, “MC…I need you to lower the gun.”

“How the fuck do you know my name?”

“That’s not important, what matters is that you’re gonna bleed out if we don’t do something about that wound right now.”

“Then I guess we’ll bleed out together,” you said, your voice strangled but your aim never faltering.

“You don’t really want that though, do you?” Saeyoung said quietly, his arms up as he creeped towards you until there was no empty space between you and him, only the barrel of your gun. Carefully, he took hold of it and tugged it out of you grasp, an arm around your waist as he lowered your collapsing form onto the floor.

The colour left your face as beads of sweat started to trickle across your features. Saeyoung took out a bandage from his utility belt and started to wrap up the wound. It would need to be treated properly, but it was enough to get you out of there.

You watched him intently as he attended to you, the same crease forming between his eyebrows from when he worked. It was strange the things you remember about another person. Only then did you realise just how much you had longed for him in the years gone by, and hot tears spilled from your eyes before you had time to register them.

His attention immediately averted to your face, cradling it with both hands as he brushed away your tears with the pad of his thumb, “Hey hey hey, you’re okay. We’re gonna get you out of here, I’m not leaving you.”

“What’s the point? I won’t last a month out there on my own.”

“You’re not going to be on your own. Like I said, I’m not leaving you. You don’t belong in a place like this, and soon you won’t have to,” he rested his forehead on yours, just like you used to, “I need you to trust me.”

“I’d be a burden.”

“You would never. Not to me.”

You eyed him carefully, trying to find any mark of dishonesty on his face, but all you saw was heartache. “Your name,” you croaked, your bones growing heavier with every passing second, “I need to know your name.”

“Saeyoung,” he answered coolly, “Saeyoung Choi.”

He tucked one arm under your knees and the other under your middle as he stood up, effortlessly manoeuvring through the building as he carried you. Vanderwood was waiting outside, exasperation etched on his face as he took in the sight of you both, “Seriously? What the hell is this?”

“No questions, Vanderwood. Just drive,” he ordered as he glided into the backseat with you still in his arms. Setting you down carefully, he checked your injury before taking out his phone and calling the top name on his short list of contacts, “Jumin, it’s me. I need a favour.”

The drive was quiet, but it wasn’t long until your leg was being treated privately in the penthouse of none other than the director of C&R International, Jumin Han. You recognised him from the news, and his association with Saeyoung only raised more questions about his life after you left.

Once the doctor and Jumin Han left, Saeyoung moved to perch on the edge of your bed, gently rubbing your knee, “How’re you feeling?”

“Better…thank you. But, I still don’t know what you expect me to do now. I can’t stay here forever.”

“I have made some arrangements,” he explained, inching closer to you, “You can now go by your real name, and you will become a part of a charity organisation called the RFA, taking the role of ‘party coordinator’. Myself and Jumin are also members and we, as well as the others, will protect you. We have an apartment for you, and you will be safe there. You can start afresh.”

Your eyes widened, sceptical that fate had had such a quick change of heart, “What about the agency? And everyone else who wants me dead?”

“I’m dealing with it.”

“I can’t let you to do that.”

“It’s not your choice.”

You both sat in a heavy silence for what felt like an eternity. Eventually you moved over, inviting him to take the space next to you. He did so, sliding up until you were lying face-to-face with the man that you thought had slipped out of your grasp. Surely it was all too good to be true.

“There’s one catch though.”

And there it was. Too good indeed.

You cocked an eyebrow, and he continued, “If this is to work, we need to keep our distance. You can’t be close to me when I’m still an agent, it’s too risky. After tonight, I’m your colleague at the RFA and nothing more,” you opened your mouth to object, but he cut you off before you had the opportunity, “No, this is non-negotiable. It’s too dangerous and I’m not taking any chances,” he paused, his next words almost a whisper, “I’m not losing you twice.”

Something in your chest ached, but you understood. You had to. As long as he was an agent and was working to erase your soiled past, getting close to him would be too dangerous for the both of you. He was essentially betraying his agency, and if they found out, even he couldn’t get away with it. This was the only way.

So for one last time you grabbed his hand, holding it close to your chest as you closed your eyes. He pressed a kiss against your forehead before placing his own there, in same position as when you were young, but now your minds a little wiser and your hearts a little more bruised. You prayed that you could stay like that forever, that the sun would never rise and you would never have to let go.

But morning was inevitable, and with the first rays of sunshine that filtered through the curtains, Saeyoung untangled himself from you and drove himself back to his bunker, refusing to grant himself the luxury of looking back.

Headphones back over his ears and a soda in hand, he began to work, taking himself back to the quiet agony he resided in, his hiding place from the devil that knocked on his door.

“Then why do you resist the storm?”

Because now, I have all the more to lose.

***

Your legs were dangling over the clifftop as you overlooked the city in the distance. You observed as more building lights flickered off the longer you sat. You wondered whether all the lights would disappear if you waited there long enough, leaving you completely alone on the outskirts of the city you built your new life on.

But either way, you would never truly be alone, would you?

“You know, for a trained agent, you’re not very stealthy,” you said smoothly.

“Like you said, you were far better on the frontline than I was,” Saeyoung replied, “Besides, it was intentional. I thought I shouldn’t startle you when you’re so close to the edge.”

You smirked and gave a hollow laugh, “Literally or figuratively?”

“I don’t know, MC,” he said softly, sitting down next to you, “You tell me.”

It had been a little over a year since you started your new life, and you found it crazy how much had gone down in such a short amount of time. After everything that happened with the Mint Eye, you couldn’t believe that everyone returned alive. And better yet, Saeyoung returned with his brother, meaning he no longer relied on the agency, so he managed to worm his way out of their fierce grip. He became boundless, and so did you. Things were looking up, things we’re finally changing.

But still, nothing had changed between you two.

You rested your head on his shoulder, both of you looking out onto the city until he finally broke the dense silence, “What are you thinking about?”

You took a deep breath, “I don’t think I was meant to live this long,” you began, “I should have been shot that night I ran, or bled to death the day our base was infiltrated. Hell, I should have died in that alleyway before they took me away.” That last part was new information to Saeyoung. He never knew that’s how you were recruited, and he suddenly felt his blood begin to boil. He tensed, trying to conceal his anger. “Yet, somehow, the universe kept me living and as well as that, kept bringing you to me. Like a guardian angel, I suppose. But life’s never really that generous is it? Because every time you came back, I could only get so close. You were just a trick of light,” your voice cracked at the same time his heart did, and he laid his head upon yours, “You’re free now, Saeyoung. When are you going to stop shutting me out?”

He sighed, “There are people out there who hate me, MC, and want more than just me dead. Escaping the agency hasn’t changed that, it has left us in the same place as before. The closer you are to me, the less safe you are.”

“I don’t want safety, Saeyoung. I want you,” you turned to face him, but he was already standing up and walking away, hands shoved in his pockets. “So now I can’t even talk to you?” you yelled after him, getting up from your own seat on the ground.

“I already know what you are going to say. I’ve told you so many times before-“

“Yes, and I listened, now it’s your turn. I’m sick of both of us taking away the other’s right to choose. We’re going to decide our future together, right now, and in order to do that we need to listen to each other.”

He watched you silently for a moment, but you continued, attempting to swallow down the lump in your throat, “I used to dream of a life that was simple, plain sailing. A life where pain was a myth and everything was nothing short of a fairy tale. Every night I dreamed of that life, and every night I prayed for morning to never come so I could stay in that dream forever, because it was easier to hide there than to scrape through a day in the hell that was my reality. And then there was you, and you were kind and you cared for me when I thought I deserved nothing, that I was nothing. I realised then that I didn’t want to live in that dream anymore, you know why? Because you weren’t in it. Because I knew that being in love with you wouldn’t be easy-“

“Don’t throw that word around so carelessly.”

“Carelessly? When I ran away and heard that gunshot, the first image that came to my mind was you. Does that mean nothing to you? I’m about to die and I don’t feel fear, just a stabbing regret that I left behind the one thing that finally made me grateful for every sunrise,” you sobbed, tears now streaming down your face, “Saeyoung, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop. If you don’t feel the same way, I will leave you alone. But if you tell me that you want me too, then how can you expect me to just walk away from you?”

“You could die.”

“I could not.”

“I’m not willing to take that risk.”

“But what if I am?” you cried, your body trembling, “What if I want to die having loved you rather than die having never known what it was like to do so?”

“It would be like loving a monster, because that’s what I am.”

“Not to me. Not ever.”

Saeyoung couldn’t take his eyes off you, his clenched fists shaking by his side and his mind reeling. His heart was screaming at him to go to you, to hold you in his arms and tell you that he fell in love with you in a place where love didn’t even exist. That he has loved you since you were young and broken, and loved you more with every day that you grew older together. But his brain ordered him to hold back, and so he did. His head would always have power over his heart, that was his rule.

The soft peal of thunder could be heard in the distance as rain started to shower, quickly soaking your hair and clothes. Saeyoung looked at you with pleading eyes, “Get in the car, MC, I��m taking you home. You’ll get sick if we stay out here.”

“You said before that you wouldn’t lose me twice,” you continued, ignoring his request, “but you lost me for the second time when you told me to keep my distance. I know you said it to protect me and I appreciate that, I really do, but you no longer get to decide that kind of thing on my behalf,” you stepped towards him until your faces were a breath away from each other, “I want you in my life, Saeyoung, and everything that comes with you. Please, you’ve been through enough tragedy and heartache, stop depriving yourself of what your heart yearns for. It’s a fleeting little life, take a risk and live it.”

Saeyoung’s heart was pounding so hard against his ribcage that he thought it would crack. He studied how your eyelashes glistened from the raindrops, before they slid down your cheek and rested at the point of your chin. He no longer knew where the raindrops ended and the tears began, but he did know that he couldn't hold back anymore. For once, he would let his heart take the wheel.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before he held your face in the calloused palm of his hand, tilting it up until your lips met. He revelled in the way your lips moved against his, the same way they did when you were kids. He knew your kiss better than the back of his hand, and he wanted to kick himself for keeping you at arms length when you belonged in their embrace. Saeyoung could finally understand what you meant, because he would happily drown in your kiss if it meant he could feel the way he did in that moment for the rest of his life.

Every nerve in his body lit up as he deepened the kiss, fire dancing through his veins as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hands running through his hair. With a moment of boldness, he moved his hands to sit on your waist as he pulled your closer to him, your bodies flush against each other.

When you both broke away to breathe, he tucked his face into your neck, his eyelashes tickling against your skin as his eyes fluttered shut. He didn’t particularly believe in destiny, but having you in his arms made him entertain the idea. He would no longer deprive you of the love you deserved, nor would he deprive himself of the love he desired.

There was a lot of healing to do, and it would take time, you both knew that. Trust doesn’t come naturally to those born in a storm. But you can’t soothe the storm, nor can you live in the calm before it, you can only weather it. And if you were by his side, then what was a little bit of thunder?

You both stood there in each other’s embrace, completely sodden but passed the point of caring. You wanted to savour that moment, because that was the first time in both your lives where you felt completely at ease in your bliss; and when it rains, it pours.

“But then answer me this,” they persevered,

“Would you not favour risking the fierce strike,

To feel the heavens kiss your skin

And witness the electric sky,

Than to waste away within your borders

Having never learnt to dance in the rain?”

***

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger fanfiction #mysme #saeyoung x mc #luciel x mc #seven x mc #707 x mc #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #mm seven #mm 707 #my writing

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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 5 years

Photo

Gladly | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Modern AU

Summary: you receive an unexpected call while on a very well-needed vacation.

Request: do you listen to asmr boyfriend roleplay (on yt)? Some of them would be great as fics.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, surely language, fluff, mentions of panic and anxiety, like a single sexual mention.

Based off these YouTube videos: one two | Gif credit @sebastiansource

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Slipping his cellphone into his back pocket, Bucky took a seat on a stool. The bar wasn’t too crowded anymore yet the snippets of chatter, the clinking of glasses and the sounds of pool balls clashing livened up the place.

Sam and Steve hadn’t stopped teasing him since he said he’d call his friend. Sam couldn’t shut up about it, making question after question.

“You guys aren’t going to let this go, huh?” Bucky sighed heavily, motioning for them to allow him to take his shot. His friends watched him in expectancy. “Man,” he sighed. “Yes, I have feelings for her.”

“I knew it!”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Bucky barked.

Steve stifled a laugh, “I did too, Buck.”

“Is it that obvious?” He asked, scared of their answer. Both his friends nodded their heads. “I hope she hasn’t noticed, she’s my best friend! No offense to you guys but she’s... just different.”

Bucky asked for a beer, wanting to have something in his hands, needing it before going insane. Steve must’ve known what it meant because he stopped Sam from pressuring Bucky to continue speaking. Once the bottle was in his grasp and he had taken a sip, he told them the rest.

“I can be actually me with her and not feel like I have to hold back like how I am right now with you but better because with her it happens always and I’ve never felt that with other people, that’s a big reason why I like her. I’m comfortable being me, she makes me like myself and it doesn’t feel right if I don’t talk to her, if I don’t see her....”

“Why don’t you tell her?” Steve inquired as to if the solution was in Bucky’s hands. Oh, how Bucky wished.

Every time people said the two of you should date he had to play coy when the only thing he wanted was to tell you that he was up for it if you wanted, that he wanted to give you the world if you let him. If only it was that easy.

“I don’t wanna ruin what we have, Stevie. It’s a good thing. Imagine if she doesn’t feel the same?” Bucky changed his voice to emphasize, “hey, best friend who I wanna secretly make out with! Light of my eyes! Highlight of my existence!” He traced the bottle up and down with his index and middle fingers, catching its sweat. “You see what I’m getting at here? I’ve thought of laying it all out on the table and just— I’m scared of losing her. It’s my worst nightmare. We have a good connection, why would I do anything to jeopardize that when she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me?” He choked up at the end, inwardly cursing for opening up that much.

“You okay?” Steve and Sam asked at the same time.

“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, “I’m gonna take a cab home.” He withdrew his cellphone, sobering up upon looking at the screen “shit! Oh, fuck!”

“What did you do, dumbass?”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilson!” He exclaimed, in panic.

Fuck, how he could be so dumb to butt-dial you? Putting the phone on his ear, he swallowed saliva. “Uh... hi.” A nervous laugh escaped him. “Uhm, how much of that did you hear?”

You sat up on the bed, placing your free hand on your chest as the beating of your heart thickened to the point where you were 40% sure you were in the brink of a panic attack out of how much adrenaline was pumping through your veins. Still, you confessed, “all of it.

“Great,” he gritted, “fucking great.”

“Is it true?” You mumbled the question, not wanting to get ideas into your head.

“Every word,” he breathed.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“How you feel,” you instructed him, looking up at the yellow sunray hitting the ceiling due to the window’s angle.

Bucky breathed a laugh, “I’m in love with you.”

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

Bucky cursed under his breath. He was the biggest dumbass he knew, not even Sam was at his level of stupidity. He was sure now the spectrum for dumbassery would be from one to Bucky and he had to learn how to live with it.

He always forgot to do things, you often told him he needed to be more organized — he was getting better but he had a long way to go. He should’ve bought that spare phone charger to keep in the car like you had told him to, he also should’ve changed his car’s battery like you also had told him to. And because he hadn’t done what you told him, because he was a dumbass, you were trapped in the middle of nowhere in a dead car.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, closing the door as he got back into the car, “I imagine this isn’t how you wanted your night back to go.”

You let out a small laugh, “it’s okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

He shrugged, “I dunno, part of me thinks you are. At least I am mad at myself.”

“That’s enough punishment, Bucky. Besides, the night is nice.”

It truly was, the weather wasn’t too chilly nor warm at all. Although you were in the middle of nowhere you weren’t bothered, you never got to be surrounded by so much nature, there were even fireflies that you hadn’t seen since you were a teenager.

There wasn’t anyone you would rather be stuck in the middle of nowhere than with Bucky. It probably was a good thing that you were, that way the topic couldn’t be avoided.

You had been anxious to get back after his call. You still didn’t quite believe it to be true, what could he have seen in you? A part of you thought he had been talking about someone else and had lied to you to spare your feelings — it wouldn’t be the first time someone feigned being attracted to you, that seemed to be a common experience in fat folks.

“Are we acknowledging the elephant in the room?”

Bucky stuttered, swallowing the excess of saliva he had started producing out of nervousness when the car died. “I was hoping you wouldn’t want to talk about that. I’m scared of what’s going to happen if we do.”

“Why? What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

You clarified, “what do you want from me?”

“It’s... hard not to think about you. I don’t mean it sexually— I mean,” he huffed, “that too, but I’m talking about your feelings. What you want, what you need, how awkward this is, do you hate me? Are you moving out of the country because you don’t want to have me near you? I wouldn’t blame you—“ he stopped himself to take a breath, he was sure you wouldn’t judge him.

Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he had been so nervous, the first time he had to go to the doctor by himself was close, after all, he remembered being terrified, but that had been different. His happiness hadn’t depended on that, or the most important person in his life, or his motivation to put up with himself and others. It wasn’t always easy for him to stay focused, how messy the world was didn’t help, but you always had a way of encouraging him — to be better, kinder, more patient, to sometimes not be too selfless, to give his best.

“I wanna be your boyfriend,” he dared to let it out. All of it. “I want to do cute coupley shit with you, hold your hand, have my arm around you all the time, kiss the back of your hand while we drive like in the movies and go on dates and do romantic stuff for you. Prepare a candlelit dinner that I cooked myself after I put up with Sam’s cooking lessons because my cuisine sucks at the moment. And like... drive you to work or pick you up from work and go visit your parents with you and cuddle you at night and...” he breathed in, deeply, hoping he hadn’t fucked it all up. “That’s what I want.”

“I want that too,”

“Don’t just say that, (Y/N). You don’t have to spare my feelings.”

“James,” you said sternly. He finally looked at you in the eyes. “I want you. I feel the same way as you.”

“Since when?!” He blurted.

“Since the beginning.” Who wouldn’t have fallen for him upon merely meeting him? Bucky was gorgeous and so nice one thought to be dreaming when in his presence.

“Are you fucking kidding me? All this time all I had to do was tell you?”

You nodded, pursing your lips to keep your laugh in for you didn’t want him to think you were making fun of him.

“I was too scared to tell you how I felt. I love you, being friends is awesome but this is not platonic love, it hasn’t been for a long time. I figured that if I fucked it up there was no going back and I didn’t want to lose you, that’s why I waited so long”

“You technically didn’t—“

He shushed you. “I know, I know it was an accident. Don’t remind me. I think I’m gonna pass out soon from the adrenaline I’m feeling, is that normal? I just feel so happy!”

“Are you drunk again?”

“No. I am always happy with you but right now I’m at another level.” He said it easily like he was talking about the weather.

You marveled at it. How open he was with you — you shouldn’t have been surprised after everything you had heard him say to and about you, yet there you were in sheer awe of how comfortable he was around you, how free.

He cleared his throat. “Uhmmm... this might be awkward, and you can say no, but can I kiss you?” You nodded, saying yes verbally. Bucky continued talking, “ I’ve been nonstop thinking about kissing you since I saw you get off the plane. Are you sure? You’re not doing this just to patronize me?”

You were about to explode. “Kiss me already, Barnes.”

He leaned in, hovering over the console of the car. Bucky placed his hand on the side of your face, he had the intention of teasing you but he didn’t have the patience himself at that moment. He covered your lips with his, heavily so, devouring your mouth as he kissed you with everything he had to give. You kissed back as passionately, taking him by the collar of his jacket.

“Does this mean we’re a thing now? I don’t know,” he asked through a huff, “I wasn’t expecting this to happen. I’m lost. I don’t know what to do. I did not plan for this.”

“Just kiss me again.”

“Gladly.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size fanfiction #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #marvel x reader #marvel x plus size reader

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buckyreaderrecs · 5 years

Text

It’s Been A Long Long Time

Summary: Bucky and Steve went to war. When they came back, you were gone. But, you know, maybe you're a lot like them, and will show up years later all not-dead and on-ice.

Words: 3,405 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Sam Wilson, F.R.I.D.A.Y., T'Challa, Tony Stark, Shuri Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower is still a thing, technically a song fic, angst, sad Bucky, Nat and Howard are mentioned but not in scenes, how shit are Hydra though, happy ending, she/her pronouns Warnings: references to canon-typical violence but no violent scenes, discussion of Hydra/Nazis

Note: This is written for @maarrvveell's challenge. My prompt was the song It's Been A Long Long Time (Harry James and Kitty Kallen version, 1945), but I also used the song I Concentrate On You (1940) in a couple scenes. Roz, I hope ya love it!

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas (not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) (the tumblr formally known as @darlingtholland - where did you go? what’s your URL now?!)

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol.

It’s Been A Long Long Time

1942

The man has a German accent and that reassures you. Steve had said Erskine was European, but was it German? You can't remember, but either way, the man holding the clipboard has a strange kindness to his face. He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly, small and pink.

"I just want to do my part," you tell him, answering why you had responded to the flyer posted around Brooklyn. "It's war, ya know? Everyone is doing something…"

Despite what he had done, you knew Steve would have never let you volunteer for this. However, Steve isn't here to stop you. He had let you cry on his shoulder for days following Bucky's departure. He had said you would at least have him. And then, he left too. So, fuck Steve Rogers.

Fuck Bucky Barnes and his parting kiss to the lips and promises of love letters in the mail.

Fuck Hitler and his psychopathy and war starting bullshit.

You were going to help, even if it meant like this. The boys could yell at you when it was all over.

…

2019, December

Bucky watches the flames lick up and around the journal. He times how long it takes to burn down to ash. Opening the fresh book in his lap, he begins by recording that time. Each journal begins like this. Bucky doesn't know why he does it. Although, his general preoccupation with the concept of time is a little easier to explain. Bucky Barnes is one of the few people on Earth that has a very personal and turbulent relationship with time. It does not pass for him like it does everyone else. It doesn't age him like everyone else. He isn't even sure it properly exists like everyone else does. It is only natural therefore, that Bucky thinks about time a lot. It is easy to get lost in the past.

Don't get him wrong though - Bucky does not want to return to anything behind him. He doesn't miss it. Not Hydra. Not Nazis. Not the Great Depression. There's only one thing that keeps pulling him in reverse.

You.

He dreams of you most nights. Sometimes they are heavenly trips into the best days he'd had with you. Sometimes they are hollow nightmares with teeth falling out and black blood. Sleep feels empty if you are not there. Sleep has been empty since the news had been delivered years and years ago.

After being rescued and then recruited into The Howling Commandoes, Bucky could see that Steve wasn't telling him everything. And there was so much to tell. "What is it, Stevie?" he asked, turning his empty shot glass upside down on the bar and looking at Steve. (Bucky kept accidentally looking down at Steve, forgetting his eyes were waaayyy up there.)

"It's… It's Y/N, Buck…"

Bucky felt his blood run cold. He thought the worst had happened. Steve had changed. He'd been tortured. The worst… You were meant to be safe at home. But you were too much like Steve.

When he was sure he was alone, Bucky cried and cried and cried until there was only an emptiness left in him. It made him a better soldier, he told himself.

F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice pulls Bucky from the memory of you. Something has been going on in the tower; people have been buzzing around all day, all hush hush. They avoid eye contact with him, but that's pretty standard. To get away from it all, he climbed to his secret little spot on the roof. Just enough room for a metal bin to burn things in, and an old office chair with a broken wheel that he found discarded in a hallway.

Bucky's surprised to learn that F.R.I.D.A.Y. could even find him here. He pulls his headphones from his ears, pausing Harry James and Kitty Kallen and sighing.

"I'm so sorry to disturb you, Sergeant Barnes, but this does qualify as an emergency," F.R.I.D.A.Y. says. Where the hell is her voice even coming from?

"Tell 'em I'm on my way," Bucky replies.

Bucky navigates his way to a room in which everyone knows what is happening. All eyes are on him as he enters the room. Without needing to overtly look around, Bucky clocks most of the Avengers as being present, as well as some other agents. He takes a seat in the chair clearly meant for him; Sam and Steve flank his sides. As he sits, most of the room empties. It's disconcerting at best.

For only a second, Bucky considers playing along. He's tired though. He needs to be alone.

"What is it?" he asks, his voice the saddest Steve has heard in a while.

"Ah, as you know.. Last week we sent scouts to recon the potential Hydra base… the one under Baltimore," Steve begins.

As soon as the word Hydra hits the air Bucky knows it means they found something. And something is never good. Possible items include files documenting the graphic nature of The Winter Soldier's breaking in, training, and treatment; evidence of the crimes committed by The Winter Soldier; or worse, video footage of any of the above.

"It definitely was Hydra. It was part of their science division. From the looks of what's there, they left in a hurry. Most of it is caved in. Not sure how that happened yet… There were no S.H.I.E.L.D. records of the place,"

"Get to the point, Steve," Bucky says, impatient. Hydra cells are everywhere; the ghosts of them pop up semi-regularly. Empty buildings with blood on the walls and stories to tell.

"They were studying Erskine… or, or the serum. Trying to replicate it…"

"We know that already,"

"Yeah. But… This place, they were close enough to… us, to New York, Brooklyn, to use the 'Captain America' story," Steve is starting to struggle. He uses air quotes for Captain America, disenfranchised. Whatever they found, Bucky thinks, it's bad. "They used it to… lure people… It's, it's where they experimented on people, Buck. But, ah, it's… It's where they worked out how to freeze people and keep them alive… They were preparing for-"

"Me… Working out how to freeze me?"

"Not you, exactly. There's no files on you. Just the Wint-" Steve tries but fails.

"It's the same thing, Steve. So… what? There were some files and some skeletons? What's-"

"They're still there," Steve interrupts, answering the question before Bucky can ask. "Three people still in cryo. Alive."

…

1944

"The resources have… been exhausted. We've searched everywhere, Sergeant. I'm afraid-"

"I got it. She's dead. Ain't coming back," Bucky interrupts Peggy before she can deliver what would be Bucky's final blow.

"Buck-"

"Don't. Don't say anything, Steve."

Steve thinks if he'd just stayed home, you'd probably be home too. He wonders if Bucky is thinking the same thing. "Everyone said you were gone and I found you," he offers, tries for logic.

"I wasn't missing for years. I didn't disappear into thin fuckin' air. You knew where I was… We have no idea where Y/N is. No idea when… when she… left or… was taken or-Christ! We don't know shit, Steve. 'Cept that she's gone."

Steve knows Bucky well enough to usher Peggy from the tent, leave his heartbroken best friend to scream into a pillow until he's taken by restless sleep in the gloaming. Until then, Bucky goes over it all again and again. He doesn't blame Peggy; she's spent so much time stealing manpower and resources from Stark and the government and whoever in an attempt to find you. He doesn't blame Steve; there's just no guarantee that if he had stayed in Brooklyn he would have been able to protect you.

Protect you.

Protect you from what?

There are a million and one scenarios in Bucky's head. Murderers. Nazis. Nightmares. All of them, nightmares. What happened to you? Where did you go?

…

2019, December

Bucky shakes his head. Something in him is putting the pieces together, informing his central nervous system to prepare for fight or flight. That something is deep down though, ignored. He crosses his arms over his chest and holds his breath.

"There are other cryo chambers… but they were damaged in the cave in, we figure. They're still trying to work out how they've been powered this long. There's all sorts of tech we've never seen. Tony's having a field day." Steve doesn't know he's rambling, getting side tracked.

"Wait. Stop. Go back. What do you mean lure people? What people?" Bucky asks, the questioning coming from that deep down something. He's trying to keep it buried, but it's bubbling, boiling.

Steve's eyes flick over to Sam, behind Bucky. It annoys Bucky, and the sharp intake of breath through his nose lets Steve know it.

Sam says, "Hydra, Buck. They told people they were like Stark… the first one, and Agent Carter… also the first one." Bucky swings his chair around. "They told people they were the good guys tryin' to make more Captain Americas… Regular people signed up."

Boiling. Bubbling.

Bucky can feel it rising. It's in his spine, climbing up the vertebra. It reaches the back of his neck, and goes cold. Prickly. Boiling. Hot. Now it's in his head and he can't get it out. He knows. The thought is right there, smack bang in the middle of his brain. He knows where you are.

He is up, the chair knocked over, before Sam and Steve can even begin to reach for him. Sam stays seated, knowing what usually spooks triggered soldiers. Steve stands, but stops when Bucky does. And, Bucky does stop himself from running, even though he wants to just fucking bolt. Instead, he's in the corner of the room, back to wall and head pounding. Steve is a couple steps away.

"We're transporting them now, to Wakanda. Shuri and Stark are our best bet at pulling them out alive," Steve says, hoping information will help. "We know who… who one of the men is. Nat is good at finding people…" When Bucky says nothing, does nothing, Steve continues. "And, ah, the other man is a John Doe… still seeing if…" There's no point. Steve gives up, drops to crouch in front of Bucky.

"It's her, Buck. It's Y/N… Don't know what the odds of that are…" he whispers.

"When you said she was too much like Steve, didn't think you meant turns up decades later frozen," Sam risks. Both Bucky and Steve look up at him. He shrugs. "I know this is a lot, man," he says to Bucky. "But this is good. At the very least, it's closure. You know where she is,"

"I know where she is," Bucky repeats, his voice so low is barely audible. He looks at Steve, blue eyes glossed over and so, so hurt. "I know where she is, Steve."

…

1940

"It's not going to stop, Buck," you say, the dread in your stomach sticky.

"Darlin'…"

"No! Don't 'darling' me. It's not going to stop and it's going to come here and they're going to send you to war."

The end of your sentence coincides with the end of the song. The record is silent, save for the crackling intermission. Music is always playing in the small apartment you share with Bucky and Steve. It keeps you all sane.

For only a second, you see the same dread you feel flash across Bucky's beautiful face. It's gone so fast though. He holds a hand out to you, and you feel compelled to take it. The next song begins.

"Y/N, I promise ya, everything is gonna be fine… And… And if war comes, and they make me go, I will come back. Can't get rid of me that easy,"

"You can't promise that,"

"I can do what I want. I'm a free man. Got a beautiful girl. Got my health. Got music," Bucky says, and he's not sure if he's trying to convince only you.

Bucky leads the slow dance, half singing along. The song is new, but it resonates. Whenever skies look grey to me, and trouble begins to brew… Whenever the winter winds become too strong, I concentrate on you.

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,"

"I fuckin' love you too."

When fortune cries 'Nay! Nay!' to me, and people declare 'You're through!' Whenever the blues become my only song… I concentrate on you.

…

2020, January

Steve and Sam stand on a balcony and watch as Bucky crosses a field. He disappears into trees, his arrival prompting birds to squawk and fly away, disturbed at the loud intrusion.

"He used to go into those woods, when we hosted him," T'Challa says, appearing behind them. "It's where the White Wolf was born. The children heard a howling, but only a man would emerge."

The men return to the lab, debrief with Shuri and Tony.

"His cells weren't stable," Shuri says.

"He basically turned to soup," Tony adds.

"Who do we tell?" Sam asks. The room look to him, confused. "Don't we have to tell someone…? That we found a man… and turned him to-"

"Soup," Tony finishes. "Nobody cares what we do," he says too casually.

"Bucky cares," Steve corrects, harshly but not unnecessarily so. "This isn't a game, Tony. We don't know who he was, but we know the others. We know Y/N. We have to try harder."

…

2020, March

"He looks…" but Steve isn't sure how to describe the man sitting on the bed in the room in front of him.

On Steve's left is Sam, then Bucky. They both have their arms folded across their chests, stances identical. On Steve's right is Shuri, then Tony. All five of them are watching the man through a two-way mirror; he's not moved in an hour. He's barely moved all day.

"Like a zombie?" Sam suggests.

"At least he's not soup," Tony offers cheerfully.

"Go do your sad boy whispering," Shuri calls over to Sam, who shoots her a look.

"I'm not a damn therapist. You're the white boy fixer," he quips. They share a grin.

"There's nothing wrong though? He's brain is fried or anything?" Bucky asks, his tone serious and his gaze not moving from the man. The very alive man that represents more hope than he's ever had about anything. He's fucking terrified.

"Nothing wrong with his brain," Tony confirms. "Just needs to talk it out. Get some help." And with that, he walks from the room. Shuri follows, glancing at Bucky, hoping he's alright.

Team Cap stays quiet for a little longer, then Sam sighs and shakes out his arms and legs. "Alright. Well… That's it then. We can wake her up,"

"Not yet," Bucky says quickly.

Sam looks at Steve, who gives Bucky a sympathetic look.

"I'm not bringing her back if something's gonna happen… Not bringing her back yet."

Nobody argues.

Everybody will wait as long as Bucky needs.

…

2020, May

Never thought you would be standing here so close to me.

Noise cancelling headphones are one of Bucky's many favourite things about the future, about now. He can drown out the rest of the world. Of course, he'd never be as bold as to say digital was better than a crackling record, but fuuuuck, this sound is crystal clear.

There's so much I feel I should say, but words can wait until some other day.

Bucky holds vigil next to the cryo chamber you're still dead to the world in. He sits, headphones on, almost as still as you. He studies your face, proud that he hasn’t forgotten a single detail of you.

A tap on the shoulder startles him, he's up and in a defensive position in a split second. Steve doesn't know where Buck pulled the knife from, but he's not surprised to see it. Bucky relaxes, pushes his headphones off to sit around his neck.

"Will's been home a while, Buck. Regular check-ups. He's fine…"

Bucky doesn't reply, just sits back down and returns to watching you. Steve pulls up a chair next to him. He thinks that you look peaceful. He hopes, hopes to fucking God, that you were treated well.

When William came to and found his mind again, he was almost more shocked to hear the people that put him in the chamber were the bad guys than he was to hear it was 2020. "They were nothin' but gentlemen," he said, a thick Brooklyn accent straight from Steve and Bucky's past. He didn't recognise your picture though. "Ain't seen a single dame. Must've separated the ladies," he said with a shrug, then went back to fawning over Captain America.

Bucky didn't recognise the version of Hydra that William knew.

"Shuri says-"

"I know," Bucky interrupts. "She told me. More dangerous keepin' her like this… Just… one more day, okay?" Bucky puts his headphones back on before he gets an answer.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice. Then kiss me again.

…

2020, May, three days later

Your hand is warm in Bucky's. He rubs his thumb over your wrist, feeling your pulse. He knows where you are, and you are here.

Slowly, you wake. The first sign is your eyes opening, focusing on the bright room. Confusion is written all over your face. Then, as you move your head to the side, you see him. The confusion switches to recognition, but back to confusion just as quickly.

Bucky. It's Bucky. But he's... different. His hair is long, pulled into a bun on his head. Imagine what everyone will be saying about that! He's bigger too, more stocky. His clothes are strange and the look on his face is something you've not ever seen... It's not a look you've known on him or anybody else.

"Bucky?" you say, but your voice is dry and croaky. "What... What are you doing here?"

He sucks his lip in and you watch his eyes begin to water.

….

2021

"It's all so… loud…" you say, frowning in a way that shouldn't be cute to Bucky, but it definitely is.

"I know. But trust me on this one," Bucky promises, searching through his Spotify app.

"Does it have our song?"

When Bucky looks up at you, expression blank, you think he doesn't remember. Then, he speaks. "I… I haven't… haven't looked." He remembers. He remembers dancing with you in the kitchen, singing about grey skies and brewing trouble. Bucky hadn't let himself think about it. It was too heavy with foreshadowing and it was a moment too perfect to have let himself think of as real. "But… this one is from '45, so… end of the war. And… ah, it's… You'll like it… Found it!"

You take the headphones being offered and carefully sit them on your head, still convinced you look ridiculous. How can everyone walk around with these giant things on their head? Then, the song starts. And, of course, Bucky's right; it isn't too loud or too fast. It's born of the same time as you.

It's been a long, long time. Haven't felt like this, my dear, since I can't remember when.

Bucky watches you listening. You watch him back.

You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you. Or just how empty they all seemed without you.

"Is this our song now?" you ask him.

"I listen to it a lot,"

"It's sad," you reply.

Bucky shrugs. "Nah, darling. It's a happy ending. Come 'ere." He pulls you into a hug, smothering you between his arms and hair and everything. He's a mess. He's been a mess for a while, apparently.

Worming your way back into fresh air, you look up at him. He's smiling, and it makes you smile.

"I love you," you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

So kiss me once. Then kiss me twice.

"I love you too."

He presses his forehead to yours and leans in, rubbing his nose along yours. It's painful, you know. While you were sleeping, Bucky had lived too many lives. You'd been missing him for a few months, he's been missing you for what felt like forever.

Bucky repeats himself. "I love you, so, so much."

His kisses taste the same.

Then kiss me once again. It's been a long, long time.

#Bucky Barnes #mine #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes/Y/N #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Marvel fanfic #Marvel #roz'schallenge

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