#The fact that one of them is six feet underground and the other two don't even look at each other anymore

[add1ctedt0you]

Jiang Cheng & Jiang Yanli & Wei Wuxian

[unhingedoveractivemuse]

Title: Let's be a mess together.

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Tags: Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Secret Relationship, Marriage Proposal

Notes: Flufftober Extra "I hate it"-"No you don't."

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Buck drops his head against the locker he shares with Eddie, the thunk sounding out through the empty locker room. 

“I hate it,” he bemoans. 

“No you don’t,” Eddie says automatically, a little smirk on his face. 

He huffs, stepping up to his best friend so there’s little to no space between them, pausing the other man’s attempt to finish dressing. “This is your fault,” he accuses teasingly. 

“My fault? I seem to recall being okay with coming out to everyone about us.”

Buck pouts. Okay, so his partner is okay with coming out about the shift in their relationship but- “I’ve enjoyed it being just the two of us, though.”

“I know, querido. I’ve enjoyed it too.”

It had been easy hiding the fact they were dating - officially, that is, because Buck realized early on that they’d been ‘dating’ for a while now - when Eddie was working at dispatch, and the privacy of their relationship never took away from the intimacy and love they’ve basked in for the first two months of their relationship. 

Things changed with Eddie's return to work, though. They’ve kept it under wraps so far, promising themselves that they’d give it a month. By then, they should have completely gotten their footing, Eddie would have been prepared to come out, and they’d have proven they could still work together. 

That plan went out the window a month ago. 

Buck just enjoys the time they spend together without having their family sticking their noses in it okay? He’d never would have thought he could keep a relationship to himself for this long, but that’s probably because he’s never had someone so special to call his. He’s never been in a relationship that he wants to work out so badly as this one. He’s never been in a relationship that he cherishes every moment, wanting to bottle up every memory, as much as this one. 

It’s getting harder and harder to keep it to themselves though, their love for each other only growing and overflowing from their confines. Subtle touches have gotten longer. Looks across the station have gotten fonder. Eddie’s hands on his waist and arm have gone lower. Buck’s need to be close to Eddie and touch him has gotten more frequent. 

At this point, as much as Buck has been enjoying the reactions from Hen and Chim when he and Eddie do things that really touch the line between a platonic and romantic relationship, he doesn’t want to hold back his affection for his boyfriend. It’s been very trying. 

But their bubble… 

“But we both know they’ll find out sooner or later.”

Buck sighs, concurring. He hates the idea of popping their bubble, but, he also hates hiding it from their family. He hates not being able to kiss Eddie when he wants to or cuddle with him on the couch. 

So, no, he doesn’t hate having to come out to the team about them. 

“How do you want to tell them?” he asks, laying a hand on the eight-pack that had gotten him a little bothered on Eddie’s first day. 

(“Only a little?” the voice in his head that sounds like Eddie says.)

He relishes the warm feeling of Eddie’s skin, thankful that they got here before it was too late. Before one of them ended up six feet underground with feelings unspoken. 

“However you want,” his partner says, hand cupping Buck’s jaw, a fond smile on his face.

Buck can't help it then, leaning forward so that their noses brush, planting a soft kiss on his boyfriend's lips. He knows he can be a little bit of a mess sometimes, with thoughts straying, getting crazy ideas, and sometimes spiraling. It doesn’t matter though. Not to Eddie. 

Eddie knows all of that and still always lets Buck be himself. He lets Buck do what he wants from late-night information dives to a crazy idea he has to save someone, but he’s not so enabling that it'll get out of hand. And maybe that's part of the reason Buck loves him so much. He trusts that he can be himself around Eddie, but he also knows that he can trust Eddie to be honest with him and tell him when it's too much. 

Eddie sees him in a way no one does.

So of course Eddie would know Buck has ideas about how to come out to their team. 

But for now, they get lost in their own little world as they're wont to do. 

Not that it last long. 

“Alright, I hope you boys realize there’s a lot of paperwork involved with this.”

They whip around to find Bobby at the door, arms crossed but with an amused, happy expression on his face. 

At least they’re not in trouble?

Behind him are Hen and Chimney, both of their mouths open in surprise, but, as Buck watches, Hen’s face lights up and Chim grins. 

“Oh my gosh, you guys, when?!” Hen demands, looking absolutely delighted. 

“Not long after your vow renewals,” Buck tells her, feeling warm at the easy acceptance their family is giving them, especially considering he didn’t come out to all of them. He had gone to Hen because he was totally out of his depths, worried that he was starting to interpret his feelings for Eddie wrong, worried about labels, etc. Then he had gone to Maddie, admitting that he likes men as much as he does women after he realized and accepted the true nature and depth of his feelings for Eddie. But he hadn’t told Bobby or Chimney, one because of worry over how it’d affect the job and the other because of secret-keeping issues. 

Besides, admitting it is one thing. Actually getting together with a man - their co-worker, no less - is a different story. 

Hen grabs their arms, and Buck feels the vibrations coming from her excitement. “Oh, I’m so happy for you two. I mean, I hoped it was coming because you both admitted to having feelings for each other and you’ve been closer than closer recently. But I was worried neither of you would say anything to the other.”

“Okay, I’m really happy for you two, too,” Chimney says, then turns to his best friend. “But you knew?!”

“Yes, but, trust me, I was not thrilled about having to keep it a secret.”

“So all the time, the touches and everything…”

“I thought it was just them not controlling their feelings. I didn’t know about this development.”

“Okay. You’re forgiven.” Chimney turns back to them. “Does Maddie know though?”

Buck freezes. Crap. If Maddie finds out that they told the team before they told her, he was-

“Don’t you dare, Chimney Han!” he warns when the other man immediately fishes out his phone the moment he realizes Buck didn’t tell his sister, dashing forward to get the phone in an attempt to stop his teammate. 

“Alright, alright, we’ve got work to do,” Bobby says not long after, preventing him and Chimney from properly settling into a wrestling match.

“But-” he starts to protest when he notices that his phone is in Eddie’s hands, and his boyfriend is looking very triumphant.��

Oh, he loves that man so much. 

“Morning announcements in five,” Bobby orders. “But just to make it clear: I’m proud of your two. Congratulations.”

Buck flushes in the face of Bobby’s paternal tone. “Thanks, Pops.”

“You make it sound like they’re already engaged,” Hen teases their captain. “Can’t wait to be an official grandparent, Cap?”

The captain rolls his eyes, looking way too fond for the action to be misinterpreted as annoyance. “No, that is not the case, and you know it.”

“We can make that the case.”

He turns to look at his partner who had just spoken, surprised. He didn’t hear that wrong right?!

Judging by the expressions on everyone else’s faces, he did not.

“Eddie…” he breathes. 

“Would you want to? Get married to this mess of a widower? Officially adopt Christopher?”

Everything comes to a standstill around them. All Buck can see is Eddie and the earnest, hopeful look on his face. Eddie, who’s his boyfriend, his partner, his best friend. 

“Yes. Let’s be a mess together.”

And now his fiancé.  

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

TF2 Mercs As Animals!

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I think these silly guys would be ultra silly as animals. Can you tell I've thought of this for a couple days now?

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TW: GORE AND BLOOD MENTION AT THE END

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Demo- Komodo Dragon!

Demo is one of these drangons for 3 reasons. Both are very smart, very dangerous, and let's be honest if demo bit you you'd probably die from some type of infection. (Maybe not, I'm pretty sure he drank hydrogen peroxide in comic 6, and I wholeheartedly believe that can't be a one-time thing).

No, but seriously, I feel like he would be one for some reason.

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Engie- Meerkat!

I think Engie would be a meerkat based mainly on the fact that they are insanely skilled builders. Meerkats are known to build super intricate underground homes. It also doesn't hurt that they are social creatures that tend to live in big groups, and are like crazy violent, even though they might not look the part.

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Heavy- Rottweiler!

Maybe an obvious choice, but! Just because its obvious doesn't mean it isn't true. Rottweilers are super friendly and loyal to their families but can also be great attack dogs. Rottweilers are strong enough to kill humans, also these dogs are UNITS! They can weigh in at 130 lbs. (58 kg). So I definitely think Heavy would be a rottweiler, or probably any big dog in general.

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Medic- Dove! (So original 😮‍💨)

Not that this idea hasn't been done to death, but hear me out! I genuinely think he'd be one. Doves are typically labeled as very clean animals with unique calls. They're also super intelligent and skilled, as we learned through carrier birds. And I think sums up Medic really well!

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Scout- African Wild Dog!

Scout definitely matches up with African wild dogs, super fast, agile, and hyper aware, and will run you down at 44 mph (70 kph) and have insane stamina when chasing down prey. They are also amazing at their hunts with an 85% success rate, so I think he'd make a good wild dog :)

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Sniper- Owl!

Sniper is 100% an owl, owls can see mice from at least six to seven feet away and have very few vertebrae in their necks, making it easy for them to look in all directions. Owls and other birds of prey would be your best bet to find a sniper in the animal kingdom!

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Spy- Ferret!

Spy is a ferret, hands down. Ferrets can be sneaky and very devious. They love to be where they shouldn't and love to mess things up. Also, cute little fact, plus a mini headcanon! (I like to think Spy can dance really well, so similarly to him, ferrets can dance!

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Pyro- Echidna!

I picked this wacky little guy for Pyro for two reasons. One, the long nose kind reminds me of Pyro's mask (could be reaching here who knows). And two, they're fireproof, well kind of. See, they can breathe through wildfires, so they don't risk smoke inhalation, which is why most people/animals die, so bonus points again for that nose being like they're mask?

ALSO, THEY ARE SO WEIRD, listen to this

"spines like a porcupine, a beak like a bird, a pouch like a kangaroo, and lays eggs like a reptile"

Insane.

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Sometimes I feel really dumb for doing these, and then I remember if even one person likes them, then it's not dumb.

I had a hard time explaining my reasoning on these 😭 I normally just look at people and assign them colors or animals in my head with no explanation as to why it fits.

Also, do you know how hard it is to find a picture of a cute Komodo dragon? Like their cool as fuck but like Jesus, you look them up and most of the time it's bloody.

SAME WITH THE AFRICAN WILD DOG!?!? I looked up "African wild dog cute" and saw one holding a monkeys face, detached from body and skull.

Mercs as works of art / mercs favorite pieces of art up next!

[countlessrealities]

Despite the flirty act he had put on once breaking the kiss, deep down Morty was beyond nervous. There was a part of him that kept repeating that he had ruined everything, whether because he hadn't been good enough or he hadn't kissed her enough or he had kissed her too much or...something.

He couldn't even think of what he could have done that wrong, but the little voice in the back of his head was relentless on the fact that he had.

Not even the flustered look on Meg's face was enough to soothe his insecurities and the boy could feel his palms starting to sweat. The date had been okay, so far, or so he thought. The girl had clearly liked the place and the set up and she had been pretty forward about how she wanted to be with him that night. One not so great kiss couldn't have doomed it all.

....Right?

Then the compliment came and it cut through his troubled thoughts as easily as a scalpel would cut through butter. Morty suddenly felt like he could breathe properly once again and he couldn't stop the shy but pleased grin that opened on his face. Meg thought that he was a good kisser. She had enjoyed the kiss. He had not messed it all up as he usually did.

In the matter of an instant, he felt like he had gone from six feet underground to climbing above the heavens.

The exhilarating feeling, however, didn't last long, because apparently his almost girlfriend wasn't done and what she said next left him torn on the inside.

"I...I-It's not...I mean, I-I had some practice? T-That's why I'm a decent kisser. An-And you're not half bad yourself!" He hurried to say, to make sure that she would know that he truly had enjoyed the kiss and that he hadn't said it just because he felt like he had to. "I-I liked that you, uh, got bold, you know? T-That's...I don't think I would have had the guts to. N-Not so soon. B-But it was...wow."

It was a little lame to say just that, but the word was exactly how he felt about it. Awed by Meg's courage and confidence

"S-So bold." Bolder than he could be. "I...I admire that. Y-You know what you want an-and you can just...you know. T-Take it."

And that was the problem, wasn't it? He couldn't do that. He hadn't been able to do with his other self, to the point that two months had passed between their first kiss and the moment they had made it official. And he couldn't do it with Meg either. No matter how lame and stupid and cowardly that made him look.

"I...I do. E-Everything I sad, I meant it." Please, believe me. "B-But I...I think I need more time. Y-You're already dating FM an-and I know he is me, b-but I...I'm me too, you know? An-And this is so new, an-and it's our first date, so..."

His voice trailed off and he looked away, ashamed and afraid at the same time. Was he being too difficult? He had made out with girls in the heat of the moment, even before he knew he actually liked them. But with Meg, it was different. He did like her. He wanted to do this right.

"....I-I don't think...it's...you know...too soon. I-I'm sorry. It's not you. I-It's me. I just...It doesn't feel...I'm not ready. I-I don't want to make it look like I'm...easy or-or stuff. I-I wanted it to be special. B-Because you deserve that. An-And more."

{ @shctupmeg }

Meg was definitely flustered but it was the good kind of flustered. Not so much overwhelmed with her own nervousness for once. Morty's lips against hers made her feel sparks. Every feeling she had through the romantic action were overly pleasant. First kisses were always special.

The one she had with her boyfriend was and now with her almost boyfriend the same seemed to be true. Though the boy would have no way of knowing this she was slightly disappointed. Sure she didn't have a ton of experience with making out but that was only because she didn't have the guts to go for it until much recently with their shared boyfriend.

It was something she enjoyed doing and that she'd be more than happy to explore with her date. Maybe it would be a little fast considering this was their first date and all but if he wanted to make out too then maybe she wouldn't be seen as a perv or anything like that.

Meg gazed at the boy with clear admiration in her eyes. As well as that glazed over look you often got when looking at your crush. "You're a good kisser." She replied casually without even meaning to. Speaking her thoughts out loud.

Her heart was beating hard against her chest too. It was a little overwhelming but in the best possible way. She laughed clearly giddy as he touched one of her curls. "Yeah I really liked it too." She agreed with an eager nod.

But since she already made that comment about how he kissed her morty probably already knew that. "Um you know you can keep kissing me if you want." Wait don't make it sound like you're just doing it for him. Be bold meg.

"I mean..." She rolled the fabric of her dress between her fingers in slight nervousness. "What I mean is I liked it. Really liked it when you kissed me and we can keep doing it. I kinda want to. Makeout I mean. Would that be okay or would I be going too fast for you?" Well it was boldish and hopefully he felt the same way she did or else this would be really awkward.

@countlessrealities

[may-day-voice]

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

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The Rook

Part of Villain AU Phase One | 122532019

Your heart fluttered in your chest, breathing slowly and silently in a cramped small space, tucking your legs close to your chest in an attempt to shrink into a ball.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," cooed the smooth voice, his boots slowly trekking through the commercial kitchen. You dared not peek from your hiding spot, eyeing the warped reflection of his body against the silver surfaces of the cabinetry. Not much has changed, except for those gnarled, tattered wings that draped along the floor behind him.

"Oh come on Pidge. This game is getting old," he purred, his wings fluttering violently against the tables, shuddering the cutlery with a brutish clang. Your shoulders hitched from the sound, clasping your hands around your mouth to keep your breath still. As long as you breathed quietly, he may not find you.

Your eyes peered towards the roof of the kitchen, visualizing yourself still in your hiding spot while the map of the kitchen laid before you in a shadowy reflection. There amongst the map, stood Hawks, his eyes still scanning the kitchen while you began to visualize all probabilities available to him and you. Many revealed failed escape attempts, a few highlighted failure staying where you were; with each probable outcome, the hope of escape was extremely slim.

His boots scuffed before you, still hiding in that tiny hole between the tables. He stopped where he stood, turning every once in a while to survey the empty commercial kitchen, twirling a bright rouge feather in his fingers. He stared at the tiny down, smirking at its colour and vibrancy.

"Smart of you to leave this behind Pidge. You've caught on real quick," he mused while the feather floated in his palm, still attached to its necklace. "But a promise is a promise, and I'm here to return it back to you."

You stared back at the ceiling, ignoring his legs to find that your chances were slipping away with each passing breath. Would he walk by? Or would he find you? You knew he knew better. It all came down to tactical strategy and advantage. He would play his Bishop, which left you with-

"Found you Pidge!"

You kicked into his face as hard as your legs could spring from your hiding spot, catching him off guard briefly before you leapt out and ran for the exit. Your Knight had to take the place of a pawn, leaving you some breathing space to escape. You slammed into the swinging double doors, running down the hall towards the lobby where you had three choices. Exit the building, find your way to the underground garage, or call for help from the reception. You had to keep yourself six steps ahead and find your pawns to halt his advance. The numbers ran through your head, the percentages of success depending on Hawks' recovery and his speed. Getting out would mean a great advantage to the Flying Hero, calling for help was an outlying choice dependent on who would receive your call and for how long. Out of all of your choices, the quickest to give you some time was the underground garage.

Your feet echoed in the dark and empty lobby, only lit by the moonlight through the large windows that revealed the illuminated street lights of the city. Your eyes darted between the elevator or the stairs. Which one would give you more time?

A slam of the doors echoed from behind, revealing Hawks soaring through the hall before he emerged into the lobby, floating above the expanse of the room with his eyes darting everywhere. His blind left eye was of no use, relying so much on his only functioning eye to spot the lights of the elevator illuminate, sending the box to the lobby floor. He floated towards the ground until a sliver of light caught his eye, catching the fire emergency door slowly and hauntingly close. A smirk crawled on his lips before his feet landed on the floor, fluttering his wings from the strain. He stared at the door, contemplating his own choices before he entered through it, taking the flight of stairs down.

The lobby fell silent again, except for the ding of the elevator's door opening absently on the floor. You slowly peeked your head from the reception desk, having hidden under it for the time Hawks had witnessed his available choices. He had an advantage on you in the long run if you had continued to run, exerting all your energy into escaping with the likelihood of Hawks catching up to you. Bluffing was your only option to give you some time.

With Hawks having taken the bait, you carefully collected the phone from the desk, taking the machine under with you. You didn't want to take any chances of Hawks realizing any movement from above now at this stage of the game.

Dialing a set of numbers, you were met with a familiar dial tone, shrinking yourself into a ball with the reception phone in your lap. Your breath was still again, inhaling slowly and exhaling quietly.

"If I show you, then I know you won't tell what I said," spoke a young voice on the line, the gruffness lining his irritation.

"Cause two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead," you answered in a low whisper, still with a quiet breath.

"Hey, where are you?" Asked the voice laced with worry and surprise despite that gruff undertone.

"The old Commission building," you whispered.

"This whole time?"

"Hawks is here too," you continued, eyeing the ceiling once more. "Look, I don't know how long I have left hiding here until he realizes my bluff. What's the status over there?"

"We're on standby. Things are out of control. We've lost our lead investigator for... Deku." The voice strained when it uttered the name, hearing the disdain and the hurt.

"I'm sorry Izumi," you spoke, eyeing your probable outcomes along the tall ceiling of the lobby, eyeing your chances of escape growing slimingly thin.

"Anyway, our insider is still on the case about Todoroki, and we've informed them to advise others out in the field," continued Kota.

"How is Eri?"

"Fine."

You still controlled your breathing, forcing your reaction to his abrupt reply down into the pit of your stomach. He had always been protective of Eri. Not at first, but when the world flipped on its head, it became his purpose. You smiled inwardly at the thought, lucky to find upcoming Heroes in the making in these darker times.

"We can get to you-"

"No," you interrupted. "This is Riot Territory. I don't want you to run in head first while Red Riot is roaming about."

"Then, what do you want us to do?"

Your eyes darted with every outcome that played out on the ceiling above, the shadowy reflection revealing all possibilities with varying levels of failure. In the end, your heart sank. You've reached the endgame phase with only two options left - both zugzwang.

"Hey, are you listening?" spoke Izumi, his voice anxious. "We can't let them have you!"

"I'm sorry Izumi," you whispered, halting the quiet breaths you forced yourself to breathe. "You need to look after Eri. She's going to have to make a big decision soon."

"No, no, no, don't you dare make that decision," he retorted. "It's not yours to make!"

"Make sure the Shimanos are present as well. Eri trusts Katsuma just as much she does with you," you suggested while you slowly stood to your feet from under the desk.

"Stop talking like we're going ahead with that decision. I hated the fact that dumbass even thought of the plan. We are not going ahead with that plan."

You smiled at his irate response, while you placed the phone on the reception desk, now out of hiding. The lobby was silent except for the echo of your voice filling the room, breathing freely from your practiced silent breaths earlier during the night.

"Izumi-"

"We need you back here! We've lost too much now, we can't lose anymore!" His voice echoed through the earpiece, adding an echo in the lobby while you smiled at his reply.

"Then win," you replied calmly. "Win the fight where we couldn't."

You immediately ended the call, slamming the phone into the desk before the rush of air slammed through the emergency doors. Feathers circled around you, grabbing hold of your clothes and carrying you inches from the floor. Hawks entered the lobby, his now featherless wings bearing the scarred tissue left behind from his injuries years ago. His eyes stared into yours, grabbing hold of your chin to force your gaze into his.

"Thought you could outsmart me Pidge?" He queried with a teasing grin. "You almost had me."

"Almost," you emphasized. "I still had you going."

"Yes, but you can't rely on your bluffs forever. Like I said, your games are getting old." His lips closed in on yours, feeling his breath wash over the skin. He was teasing now. You couldn't tell what your body felt - disgusted, revolted, or was that old flame being ignited again, even if it were a glimpse into what he used to be before his mind went mad.

"So, are you going to tell me who you were talking to?" He asked, catching you off guard. "I could be jealous if you gave me the reason why."

You swallowed, raking through your mind on your response. You didn't account for him eavesdropping the breath of your last words on the phone call. Thankfully, he wouldn't have been able to discern the words you spoke, but lying about the phone call wasn't an option.

Hawks was only met with a silent tongue.

"Aw Pidge, we shouldn't be keeping secrets from each other. Trust goes both ways, am I right?" He cooed with a grin. "How about this? You don't have to tell me anything, but I'm going to have to take you with me to a friend of ours for a while. Seems you're not fond of going down memory lane with me here."

His statement was laughable, but to an extent, he was reaching. After he had captured you yesterday, he had brought you to this decrepit building only to relive memories of what once was. It was a day of cat and mouse, one that went astray after your original game plan had shifted drastically. You opened with a King's Gambit by feeding into his plot, offering yourself for capture to make it seem that he had succeeded. However, throughout the day. He had thwarted most of your available moves and outcomes. You read him like a book, but so did he.

With a tug of his feathers, you were pulled towards the front doors, followed by Hawks who kept his steely gaze on you. Perhaps there was a way out from this, you thought, eyeing the outside street lights from your peripherals. You contemplated the notion of what very little options you had left, until you spotted Hawks pull a small bottle from his person, dowsing a cloth in what substance it contained.

Immediately, he shoved the cloth into your face, covering your nose and mouth that filled with a sweet and nutty scent. You struggled recognizing that smell, pulling at the small tugs of Hawks' feathers before your limbs felt limp.

"Now, relax Pidge," reassured Hawks through your drowsiness. "I'll make sure you're comfortable when you wake up."

That sweet scent was the last you recalled before your eyes fluttered shut, your head feeling light from the dizziness. Of course, it was chloroform.

Knocked out and comatose, you dangled from Hawks' feathers before they gently released you into his arms, each one returning to his back while he hissed in pain. His Quirk felt like a nuisance now, each use of it always a burden on his body. His painful cries echoed in the lobby, leaving his wings limp while they dragged along the floor.

"You'll be in safe-keeping Pidge," he remarked, straining his back to lift his wings, spreading them ready for take-off. With a push, his wings lifted himself from the ground with you in his arms, flying into the night sky while he made his way across Musatafu. He aimed towards the salty breeze, finding his way to Endor Docks for another well-deserved appointment.

[bumbershots]

Mistletoe & Wine

A/N: Hello this is my collaboration for @goldenbluesuit very well put together Christmas song fic challenge. It’s my first time participating and my first time posting my writing here as well (I’m sort of new, I have no friends) so, I’m kind of nervous and English is not my first language (sorry for any mistakes) thanks to my boyfriend for being a Brit so he could help me with the “slang” and for reading this about fifteen times and listened to Mistletoe and Wine by Cliff Richard throughout the entire week with me lol. Thanks for  taking the time to read this :) If you want to befriend a twenty six year old Aries, or just send me an ask click here.

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Harry meets a woman that is not here to stay, he will need to decide if that will keep him from making the most of the very few days they have together or dread the imminent separation.

It was raining when her flight landed in London. The kind of rain that doesn't pour heavily, instead it settles over the city for days. And although she can't afford to take a cab, she steps out of the airport just to stare at the endless grey of the sky and wrap herself in her coat because of how cold it was. After a few more minutes she goes back inside to find the way to get out of there on the tube, she knew it to be possible after all the research she's been doing since the age of twelve on the internet.

Soon enough, the man she approached to ask for help, confirms that a train is leaving in a few minutes and she can easily get off at Hammersmith, he even helps her buy the ticket and recommends to get an oyster card if she is going to use London's Underground often. But she doesn't know, she relishes in the element of surprise that is surrounding her life for the next 3 weeks. It excites her to an unfamiliar degree to see people come and go into the carriage, it almost makes her miss her stop, but she manages to get off just in time, her hands clutching the heavy suitcase that contains all her nicest and warmest clothes. She follows the crowd up the stairs and out of the station, the busy street revealed before her is straight out of those books she restlessly studied at school, people wearing trench coats and long scarfs hurry in hopes to avoid the rain and then a red double-decker bus passes by. The cherry on top.

The spontaneous decision to spend Christmas in England instead of her home country was made months ago, on the night of her birthday, although her closest friends would say that she's been dreaming of it since she read Harry Potter. No one gave her a hard time for it, in fact, almost all her friends and family members went to the airport to wish her a safe trip. Her grandmother was cheeky enough to slip a twenty pound note when hugging her goodbye.

Every day of the first week went by in a blur, visiting museums, galleries and walking around the city, getting soaked in its beauty and the endless rain. By the beginning of the second week, a bit tired of the scarce options from the hotel's breakfast, she ventured out, burying half of her face in the scarf she bought the day before at Primark, her feet guiding her almost out of instinct to the little cafe at the end of Hercules road. The place is warm and the menu seems to have it all for a very fair price. After a couple of minutes the Full English wins, she iterates the order to the woman behind the counter and adds a cup of tea handing over the money.

"Get a seat love, I'll bring it over." The elder lady says making the girl smile and thank her before scampering across the room to sit by the window at the four seat table tucked in the corner.

It doesn't take long for her food to arrive and for her to dig in, feeling kind of full almost at the end, she slows down then, a trick her father passed down on her. Let it settle in for a few minutes before going back at it. Works every time. She gets lost on the daily life happening before her eyes, the people walking by, some in a rush maybe to get to work, others in a rush to get to the shops early and buy presents. She could easily tell the difference between one and other. The elderly couple walking to the market, slower than anybody else, arms linked and without a care in the world. A girl around her age doing "the walk of shame" elicited a smirk on her lips. Good for her.

"Do you mind if I take a seat?" She almost missed the question by the stranger standing there. "There's no empty seats elsewhere I'm afraid, I won't bother you." He was right, in the span of thirty minutes the place was full to the brim with families, the three seats at her table the only ones free so, she nodded and even managed to smile in a friendly way. Unfortunately for her, the green eyed stranger did the same, a sweet dimple on his left cheek more prominent than on the right one and she had to eat a spoonful of beans in an attempt to hide her blush.

Two weeks in the country, almost two weeks, and the best looking man on it decides to show up on a greasy spoon cafe when she's eating what's left of her sausages and beans. His food is delivered by the same lady from earlier, of course it is something that looks healthy. The sudden need to fly away from the place pops in her head, it's not a bad one, he doesn't even know her name. She wants to know his. She remembers how he said he wouldn't bother her, it's almost disappointing, she wants to be bothered.

The situation seems to be straight out of a rom-com, she is cutting the banger in little pieces, as if the formula to spark conversation with the mystery guy keeping her company is hidden in them. But after five minutes she sighs quietly, knowing that her own shyness won't let her even glance at him again. She will have to do her best to remember him and observe from the corner of her eye until the last piece of minced pork is consumed by her. And maybe she will gush about how gorgeous he was with her friends once she is back home, describing his shiny emerald eyes for them, sharing a sigh when she recalls how dreamy his accent was and squeal upon the memory of his raspy voice.

Ten minutes later her last bite is chewed and swallowed, the cup is empty as well. She's about to grab her coat draped on the back of her chair. "I'm going to have to break my non-disturbing you promise but... um, that's a sick cardigan." His voice doesn't sound confident as before, he even clears his throat, but his eyes never leave hers.

"Thanks, my grandma knitted it for me." She forgets about her coat and straightens out a bit for him to appreciate the colourful patchwork and extends her left arm to show the over-sized sleeve. Her companion hums in approval. "She hates it."

"What?" His green eyes widening in disbelief and she just shrugs.

"As soon as I put it on she went on and on about how horrible it was, the wrong proportions and how it all seemed better off in her mind." They share a giggle and don't notice that their empty plates have been taken away and the place is no longer swamped by people. "But I like it, I like it a lot, does a good job keeping me warm." And makes her look lovely, he thinks but doesn't say.

Instead he licks his lips before speaking again. "I'm Harry." He offers his left hand and she quickly eyes the cross tattoo.

"I'm a tourist." She says before adding her real name, earning a deep chuckle from him before letting go of his hand.

The set of circumstances in which she met Harry is dreamy for sure, but something about him made the set of affairs so real. When he asked about the places where she'd been the scoff afterwards and the roll of his eyes made her ask what was wrong about them. But he didn't answer, with a shake of his head and a deep sigh he asked for her phone number. The promise to show her the real London lingered in the air as they parted ways outside of the corner cafe.

Her heart raced at the very sight of him outside Borough Market the following morning. "Morning love, alright?" he greeted her before hugging her tight and quick. It was so genuine it made her wonder if she really just met him the day before. "Do you like doughnuts?"

"Who doesn't?" she says with that grin he worries will wait for him in his dreams.

"Wisest words ever spoken." Harry's arm is wrapped around her shoulders, guiding her on their quest inside the huge market.

The early morning is spent too soon, Harry guides her to talk to the stall owners, they are so passionate about their produce, most of them willing when possible to give them a sample. The highlight is the stop at Bread Ahead, they buy more doughnuts than what she thinks they need. They eat them all while sharing a Monmouth coffee. Harry shares with her stories about almost every stall they passed by. "I'm not a fan of red meat, and oysters." She keeps record of it, basking in his lovely anecdotes that seemed to summon the sun from it's hiding place. "We're granted a sunny day in winter!" He celebrates and it's impossible not to join him. "Let's go to Richmond Park."

Of course she nods in agreement and follows him down the street where he parked his car before she gets in the passenger seat. The stranger danger alarm, should've gone off in her head. But there was something about him, like he was holding her in place. As she heard Harry speak about his job, it started to make more sense in her head. Harry was a lot like this country, foreign, new, exciting and hers for the next few days. He made that clear when they parted ways at the end of the day.

"Come home with me for Christmas." Harry asked her on what would be the beginning of her last week in London, while having a picnic on Primrose Hill.

"With your family?" Her eyebrows were shot up when he nodded, fighting back that deadly smirk of his. "All your relatives will be there?" He nods again and she scoffs completely agitated. "Don't be daft Harry!" She voices out her feelings borrowing an expression of his.

He laughs and it's impossible for her not to join him, her face growing hotter by the second. "I don't want to go without you, and mum will love to have you there," that's what she fears.

"I don't know Harry, might be weird." He disagrees right away.

"It's close to Liverpool, we could spend a day or two over there." The past week he's been trying to learn as many things from her as possible and if he chooses his words carefully he can convince her. "Pay a visit to Anfield, The Cavern." His fake nonchalant attitude makes her roll her eyes, "Strawberry Fields is there too, you know?" She agrees and he kisses the back of her hand to mask the proud grin on his face.

In the past, she was always careful not to let a partner know how deeply she cared about them. The thought of being vulnerable made her lose her mind, thinking it was a sign of weakness. But seeing Harry drive through the English countryside, singing at the top of his lungs to Mistletoe and Wine by Cliff Richard and smiling just for her. It made her want to tell him, but not even all the words in every single language ever spoken by humanity could be enough to give him an idea of how much she cares for him.

There hasn't been a proper kiss between them, it puzzled her at first. Because his gaze seemed to be constantly directed to her lips. But then there was all the touching, holding hands, tucking her to his side when walking, his tender touch before hugging her goodbye. And the way he was always running his hands through her hair.

"She's a friend," he introduces her to his mum Anne and sister Gemma, after saying her name, chewing on the word like it's that mint gum he carries in his purse everywhere he goes. "Was a bloody tourist when I first met her but now... she's a proper Londoner." She doubts it, but she agrees on them being friends and she likes it, a lot.

They help Anne and Gemma to set the table and the finishing touches for dinner. Only three more family members show up and she chastises Harry for making her believe that all of his offspring was going to attend. That's how they usually spend Christmas Eve back home, she explains.

It saddens him, the thought of her going back to her home country in five days time. All the way across the Atlantic, six hours behind him. It's almost unfair.

"Tell me more about it," Harry's curiosity is genuine, thinking that he would love to know more about her traditions. Perhaps even be lucky enough to share them someday.

"We don't have these," she regrets taking a tube of brightly coloured paper. "We have piñatas though." She adds proudly and Harry's jaw hangs open in surprise.

"No fucking way!" He is immediately told off by his mum as they all take a seat at the table. "I thought that was only allowed for birthdays."

"There's no rules for that!" She takes the Christmas cracker out again and Harry takes it from the other end. "So, I just pull it?" He nods and it makes a noise revealing the present.

"You get the crown." Harry unfolds it before helping her fix it atop her head. "And the little toy, what is it?oh... I get the joke!" His family groans, his sister hiding her face in hands, but all she sees is the glint in Harry's eye before he reads. "Who's Rudolph's favourite pop star?"

"I don't know," she's the only one that was going to ask him. And she really wanted to know.

"Beyon-sleigh!" Harry watches in delight how the girl before him snorts at the silly and not so funny joke.

"That was awful." She confessed.

"Agree, next year we'll make our own. Riddles only." His mum adds and Harry protests right away but is shushed by Gemma's voice reading out loud the riddle from her cracker.

Next year, she will probably be spending the day with her numerous family, she thinks. Harry will be here again, telling awful jokes, pulling away Christmas crackers. Perhaps he will bring another person with him. She tries to push the poisonous thoughts down with a big gulp of wine. Only succeeding when Harry's left hand rests on her knee, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin exposed by her ripped jeans while he listens to his sister talk about her podcast. It marvels her how he is there, for everybody.

After dinner they play family games and Harry makes a fake tantrum after his cousin Chloe claims his companion for her team.

"She's mine!" He argues, his long arms embracing her easily. She ends up joining the other team, but the quick kiss she bravely gave to his neck before he let her go, confirmed the words he spoke.

There is a three step process Harry follows to know he's fallen in love. If he finds himself talking about them with every living soul, if he does something they like just because it makes him miss them less and finally if he takes them home to meet his mum. He knows that for the past few days, there was no other topic to discuss with him than the girl sitting beside him in the sofa. He's been drinking tea every morning, just because it reminds him of her. He watches her talk to his mother about how much they like Rod Stewart and knows that he's in too deep.

It should bother him, because she will leave. And all these moments spent, will be just distant memories for him to torture himself over and over again. He wants to feel the angst of knowing that maybe she will forget him, maybe she has a partner back home. He gives up on trying to feel miserable, agreeing with that song from earlier. It is a time to rejoice in the good that we see, a time for living and believing.

Right now all he sees is her, he sighs before tucking her by his side, her brown doe eyes meeting his briefly before sneaking an arm around his waist. She continues to chat with Anne and Gemma even after the rest of the guests leave, still holding onto him. Harry can see the fondness radiating from his mother and sister for the girl in his arms. He sees trust, and he smiles thinking of a new beginning.

What a beautiful sight.

[rosedesang]

Bellamy to provocation does not react so well. A competitor, hungry for a continuous win, that's what he is. Taiyang's words to Bellamy's fighter taking a damageful hit only hardens the clench of the heir's jaw, his eyes on the fight he's about to lose, his hands down his pocket while Taiyang is sitting down the couch in his back. The Black Fang King has a certain sense of humor - Bellamy can have one too, sadly not when a victory of his is on the line, no matter how small it is. It's just a dirty underground fight, isn't it. Pride, the Kang is driven by not just the power, he is driven by Pride too. "Someone's about to lose six months of roof above his head I fucking guess." Words in between his teeth that comes as a raw, unfiletered, from the heir, priviledged, up on the ladder enough to decide if the one in the cage lives in the streets or not. "It is not an easy task to find skilled fighters nowadays. It's just not like it used to be, they have gotten lazy with inflation." Comments the heir before shouting. GET HIM, KILL HIM OR I KILL YOU MYSELF. An order. One that seems to be working like fuel as his fighter does stand again to fight for his life, he hits and hits and hits as Bellamy keeps on shouting and well, threatening him. The crowd is on fire, all of them, cheering for Bellamy's fighter who is now winning. The KO is pronounced. "YES!" Adds Bellamy fist up, as his fighter is announced winner. The heir is satisfied, for tonight.

Their little debate however, is an even more interesting part of the night. The poor, the rich, it is all the same to Bellamy, the one with the biggest hammer slams the hardest - no matter who it is handed to. The Kangs have the power in question for now, he likes it this way, he wants it to stay that way. The future head of the Kang family is concerned however about what might do his cousin, Kang Gaya. Gaya has never been a preoccupation to him when younger, she simply appeared to be the different Kang, the outsider, the adopted, the quiet and sinister little girl who to him, can never be family. Everything his uncle could have expected from Gaya, she does - positionning herself as one of the most influantial figure in Law with the family firm Kang and Associates, standing right behind her father with the world soon at her feet. It seemed Taiyang perfectly understands the message, yet Bellamy must make it clearer for a future that he fears and foresees. "That is indeed what I am stating. Anybody, inconsciously or not, is willing to sell their soul for all the money and power they can grab. Truly, we all do, in a way, at our own scale, with our own ambitions but we do. Money is survival, it is in human nature to aim for the survival of ourselves, of our families isn't it? It's in our instinct, in our DNA." A statement. "I do not mind you not sharing my point of view. In fact, it makes it all way more interesting or should I say, fascinating, to me. I do admire the noble colors of your cause, the ones Black Fang seems to wear. It's... Honorable." Meant yet quite condescending in the delivery. "May you never lose yourself, Taiyang Tseng." The words are spoken with a slight raise of his glass of scotch. "On the subject of my dearest cousin, I believe you and her have called off some sort of alliance or should I say, friendship? I out of respect won't question what came in between the two of you. However, if you need another Kang in your life, I would gladly take her seat." A side smirk that is soon replaced with a more serious facial expression. "In appromatively one year from now, Kang Gaya is going to be named one of the youngest Judges in the history of the country. It is the natural continuum of the career the other side of the family has planned for her. Sadly, money and power might be in the Kang's hands, she is a lone wolf, I don't trust her to fight for this family, I can only imagine her climbing the ladder for her own agenda. I wouldn't normally worry but once she becomes Judge, her word will be supreme law, she could get rid even of Me if she wanted. To protect what's mine, I must be prepared. Can I count on your support, if anything goes south on that matter? You can go and ask me what's in it for you. Well, you might already know having my phone number to call can make a difference. So, I can guantee you will able to count on me, too."

[red-the-dragon-writes]

Today's post is not on the usual "writer blog fare" side. Instead I am going to introduce you to several fun facts about various animals on our planet and then talk about worldbuilding.

1. Lampreys are a kind of "living fossil"- a not-really-so-scientific term for a creature that has lived unchanged for a very long time, so long that we have fossils of them looking the same way they do now. They don't have proper jaws, just a circular sucking mouth with teeth set into it and a tongue designed to strip flesh off of what it touches. They're finless fish, look quite a bit like eels, and have this really alien, uncanny vibe to them.

[id: a long, slender bluish-silver lamprey sitting among rocks. It has a long snout, an eye, and then six small perforations in its side arranged at an even interval sitting behind the eye. The environment it is sitting in is very yellow and green in comparison. end id]

[id: an image of a lamprey from below. The snout ends in a round, flat mouth which is studded with teeth in four concentric circles. The teeth are smallest near the outer edge and largest in the middle, and look like very sharp round points. In the center of this ring is another, smaller circle, where the pointed, tooth-like tongue can be seen, as well as a hole for the lamprey to actually ingest food with. Its eye is visible, as are some of the perforations on its side. This one is a more mottled gray than the first one was, and less shiny. end id]

Sea lampreys, which are the kind i've sort of not really kinda researched, are a major pest in the Great Lakes, where they regularly attack fish. They can get up to two feet in length. Despite this, they are not particularly dangerous towards humans.

2. Horseshoe crabs are also "living fossils." They've been around and virtually unchanged for millions of years. They're not true crabs, and are more closely related to chelicerata species, like spiders and scorpions (and many more). There are a lot of cool features of horseshoe crabs, but one of their most extremely cool, to me, is their blood.

I'm not going to post any images of what I consider to be animal cruelty, so you'll have to take me at my word here, but this is a bottle of horseshoe crab blood. If you're sensitive to images of animal cruelty, I don't recommend looking for proof, but if you aren't, there are plenty of images of the blood coming out of the creature for you to verify this with.

E[id: a bottle of slightly frothy, opaque blue liquid. It is sitting in a row with several other bottles of the same material. end id]

I am a sucker for blue blood, I just think it's neat, so that's all I'd need as an excuse to slam some horseshoe-crab-inspired nonsense in my exceptionally gory and fucked up wips, and if you've been reading along with WiB you may have noticed that blue blood does come into play at some point! But that's not all that's neat about horseshoe crab blood. Unfortunately for the horseshoe crabs, but fortunately for us, their blood is literally the only source of an important compound used for detecting the presence of dangerous bacteria in certain pharmaceutical drugs. (Fortunately, there are replacements that will hopefully become more popular in coming years.)

Now that we've gone over all that, onto the worldbuilding!

I worldbuild by Rule of Cool. Let's just get that out of the way. Every so often people will ask me how my worlds get so expansive (not WiB, WiB i made up on the fly by cribbing from fanfic and like... BBC Merlin. Assume very little of this holds true for WiB) and the answer is largely that I take every interest I have ever had in anything and smash it all together and throw it at my wip to see what sticks. and then I just... like... reasonably attempt to figure out what the natural conclusions will be.

So: we have lampreys. We have blue-blooded ancient sea creatures with spectacularly important and valueable blood. We are writing this into a story that takes place on land, somehow.

- The first option, and the one I'm going to talk about most because I did it, is just to rule-of-cool it into a character. (Or a place, or an item, or whatever, but largely I do rule-of-cool on living creatures and think harder about the world around them.) If you've been keeping up with WiB, you may have noticed that (spoilers) Zero Point is some kind of fucked up magician with a lamprey mouth in their hand who shapeshifts and bleeds blue. This is where I got those inspirations from (along with, like, some other stuff. I promise there are no lamprey assassins, but- continuing in the trend of stealing from sea creatures- the bobbin worm is a spectacularly beautiful, spectacularly deadly creature if you're within its weight range. which is like, goldfish size, but. And cuttlefish are known to disguise themselves as other animals, and can change sexes if the male:female ratio where they are isn't ideal.)

So you can take the elements you like, and just kind of slam them together haphazardly, which is what I did with Zero Point. The trick to this kind of worldbuilding is just to avoid looking too closely at it. The magical assassin has a fucked up mouth in their hand? Yeah, okay, that seems kind of fucked up and creepy. What do they do at all times? They hide it under a glove. So the protags Just Straight Up Never Ask. And voila; it never gets explained, and it never has to.

Same with the blue blood. It shows up, it functions as a plot device because only Zero Point has blue blood; it is never explained or even delved into with much detail. And if it were, it would fall apart instantly, because the justification is literally just "i thought it was neat. No, no one else is like that. I don't even know why they are. i just felt like it"

- The second option is to consider the effects of the things that you're working with, and then work off of that.

Let's take Zero Point again. Strip them of their context (weird assassin with magical powers) and just like, consider the fact that this is a creature with blood that regularly retails for over $10,000 USD, is intelligent as fuck, shapeshifts, has a mouth in their hand that may or may not be their actual mouth, and can exist on land so long as they have suitable access to water. What does that mean for our setting? Surely they're not the only person like that; so you have a whole species of people who are sort of but not really amphibious, shapeshift, and maybe have magical powers, who knows. They can't shapeshift their fucked up lamprey mouths, maybe. That seems like a reasonable limit. So their blood is highly valuable- what does that mean for their relations with other people, or their culture? What kind of foods do they eat? How do they create a sense of culture as shapeshifters; is there even a way that they represent themselves in art? How do they interact with the world? Do they have a "true form" or not? Every one of these questions will spawn new questions. If you answer all of them you'll lose your mind, but if you answer at least ten you'll spawn a much more background-heavy world that can help to shape your story much more effectively than trying to just craft a narrative will. Sometimes it works very well for a story. Sometimes it gets you lost in the weeds.

- The third option is to reference something else, and build off that. Again, let's use Zero Point as the example.

In the original story that the WiB ensemble is from, Closerverse, which may have some mentions on this blog but honestly I have no idea, there is a city that I've done quite a bit of worldbuilding on. This city is called Hudson, and one of the major important features of it is that it is partially underground. (This is a reference to the DFZ of Rachel Aaron's Heartstrikers series). Hudson is intentionally run to be the worst, most unpleasant city in the world, and one of its features are its wildly intelligent, dangerous forms of aquatic life. The lowest level of this city is partially submerged, and all of these creatures plague the people who live down there.

Closerverse was also set during a period of early industrialization, and Hudson heavily referenced US history, especially 1900s-1920s labor history. Tenements, pollution, zero protections for workers, et cetera. Hudson is a nasty, miserable place, and everyone who lives there can feel the jaws closing in on them.

Anyway, in Closerverse you got these fucked up massive eel-like creatures (lampreys, but with extra features) that due to some rather significant meddling wound up growing legs and then got really massive and started eating people. They have blue blood, glow in the dark, and make fairly decent eating as long as they aren't eating you. And they're intelligent. Given the whole "mutual eating each other" thing, the eels and the people of Hudson have some pretty major animosity going on.

Most of Zero Point's stuff is really just me referencing the Hudson Eels, because I fucking love those. They're some of my favorite worldbuilding elements ever. But given that no one else in WiB has ever seen a Hudson Eel, let alone seen their blood get dry on things, or whatever, everything about Zero Point is wildly out of context. And that almost makes it better, because the whole deal with them is that they're mysterious and weird, and having them be a mysterious and weird reference to something no one but I know about most likely is like, fun and neat.

There are, of course, other modes of worldbuilding as well, but I typically aim to stick to the first two as much as possible. The cooler you make something, the more possible questions it raises; the more questions something raises, the deeper your world gets.

Although, a word of advice: sometimes animals just do things. Sometimes bodies just have features. Who would invent fingernails? But having them is mighty convenient, isn't it? For that matter, who would come up with a deeply logical and reasoned explanation for eyebrows- but not having those would be very strange, to us. You can get away with doing a lot by just having that be how it is, and not having the characters comment on it.

Also, the more "shaped" a thing should be, the more you'll want to take the second approach. For house design, something intentionally built, you'll want to know why it was built, and what purpose is this and that room, and why is it painted such and such colors. But if you're talking about adding a second moon, like... fuck dude, who needs to know why there's a second moon? Maybe if you have sailors you have to know what it'll do to your oceans, but that's the kind of thing you can kind of just say exists and move on. You'll figure it out; it gets pretty intuitive.

Anyway, happy worldbuilding!

[roselen-mylady]

In Another Life

Bucky Barnes x reader ° part ten

Summary: Waiting 88 years to find your soulmate? It was cruel. But it was a cruel fate Bucky would have to face whether he accepted it or not. Bucky was a tortured man all his life and he wasn't even granted the solace of having his soulmate at his side. All he had was the promise of one in another life. They were separated by two different times.

But the pain in their lives were connected.

Y/n had been alone ever since she could remember. All she could depend on was the soulmate that was destined to be at her side. Yet when the snap occurred she lost him.

And Bucky never got to meet her.

Though Steve showed no signs of leaving or the anger Y/n had feared, she still felt the anxiety that came from revealing her true past. He was supportive, as he always was and so was everyone else once they were told. Tony only had a mere, 'I knew it' to add to the subject and while Y/n was touched, she couldn't help the array of things she felt. 

Foolish was one of them. Hiding her past from them before was stupid but Steve insisted that her going underground was probably best since HYDRA would've searched for her. While that brought her some solace she was still uncomfortable with the idea of becoming more involved. Something always went wrong and Nat was proof. 

She missed her friend badly and Y/n couldn't help but feel it was her own cursed luck that had taken Nat. It was ridiculous to think that she could ever be happy. Stupid to think she could help her friends bring back everyone. Stupid to think she might actually meet her soulmate.  

"Hey, kid. We're going to put the stones together." Tony cut into Y/n's racing thoughts. Her gaze lifted from the drawing Steve had given her, settling on Tony as he leaned in through the doorway. 

She didn't know why she was still looking at the picture or why she had even accepted it. She wanted to believe she was still furious, still resentful. Wanted to force all the pain and guilt she felt into him once more. But in all reality she was just so lost. For years she pretended to be someone else and now that she was free to be the girl she once was, she didn't even remember who that was. 

A genius? A hero? A terrified little orphan? She had no idea but she didn't want to be any. She wanted to be Y/n, a friend and a psychiatrist. She now understood why Steve wanted her around. He needed someone to remind him of who he was, who he truly was. 

Was James that person once? 

Was that why she found herself gazing at the sketch, hoping for a split second that maybe she could go back to the moment that was drawn? Praying to go back to a time where James Barnes was fighting for his past and his own will. A time where he might comfort her like he did Steve over the death of Nat. A time where his thoughts were his own and so we're his actions. 

Y/m almost hated herself for despising him. Though she knew there was still much to his story she was too scared to ask, she knew he was nothing more than a tortured soul with a gun. She couldn't figure out how the man in the drawing was the same man who'd nearly killed her. 

It wasn't.  

Noticing her broken expression, Tony hesitantly stepped into the room coming to sit with her. Her fingers gently held the page and he looked down at it, recognizing the face instantly. It sent a chill through his spine, seeing the same face almost ripped the arc reactor straight from his chest. 

It had taken him years to forgive Steve but he still struggled to do the same with the man who murdered his parents in cold blood. All the hatred toward his parents' assassin had gone unresolved since Steve and Bucky left him at that frozen HYDRA base. And once forgiving Steve, Tony had no other outlet and he found it difficult to sit there with the picture.

So he tried to focus on something else.  

"So, you and Ms. Romanoff were close?" He mumbled trying poorly to begin consoling her. She nodded numbly, folding the paper and setting it aside. 

The emotions she felt were mixed and intense making it hard for her to filter through her feelings but one surfaced more than others. Guilt. 

"Ever since the snap." She replied, her shoulders slack. Tony and Nat had their own relationship, one much older than her own but they'd been apart for so long. Ever since Nat went off the grid with Steve and even after the snap when he distanced himself from all of them, they hardly interacted. But they were friends. The type of friends that wouldn't be parted even by death. 

"Do you think things would be different if I hadn't showed up?" Y/n asked him suddenly. He looked over at her studying her guilt ridden eyes that she kept trained on the floor. It was a familiar look, one he wore often. But not one he wanted her to. 

"Natasha wasn't the type of person to let anyone dictate her choices. I think she was ready to give her life for a cause and none of us could've stopped her." Tony sighed, the weight of her death finally reaching its max. "Not even a couple of geniuses." 

•••

"Let's hope this doesn't blow up." Tony mumbled next to her. The small group consisting of them with the addition of Bruce and Rocket stood in the lab, waiting in anticipation as Tony carefully placed the stones in the gauntlet. With his shaking hands it was difficult to be precise while he manipulated the machine but he managed to place all six stones in their respective places. They held their breath unsure if the stones would react or blow up the lab as Tony feared.  

"Boom!" Rocket yelled suddenly making all of them flinch. He began to laugh loudly and they all turned to him with annoyed looks. Y/n slapped the back of his head, cutting his laughing short as she walked off trying to ignore the trembling in her legs. Tony muttered something under his breath moving to bring the gauntlet to a more accessible area for the wearer. 

"You're an asshole." Y/n groaned. Tony walked past them, putting the gauntlet on a display table that made it hover a couple inches above. 

"Come on, it was funny!" Rocket argued, earning an unamused stare from both Tony and Y/n. 

It took a few minutes for Bruce to collect everyone but eventually everyone was gathered around the gauntlet. Most had expressions Y/n familiarized with PTSD and once following their gazes she realized their experience with the gauntlet Thanos wore was resurfacing. 

Hopefully, with the new one they'd be able to reverse what he'd done. But the trauma would stay. That she knew. 

"All right. The glove's ready. Question is, who's gonna snap their fucking fingers?" Rocket questioned, looking up at the group. Their options were limited since most people in the room were only human, even Steve. 

"I'll do it." Thor volunteered without hesitation. He drunkenly stepped forward making everyone turn to him with confused and reluctant looks. Their choices were limited but they weren't desperate enough to put such a powerful object on a drunk god.  

"Excuse me?" Scott asked, glancing around at the others for one of them to tell Thor what a bad idea it was. 

"It's okay." Thor insisted, marching forward with a purpose. Steve moved to stop him with the help of Tony making the poor large man pause. 

"No, no, no, whoa. Stop. Stop. Wait a sec. Hey, hey–" Everyone was a mess of refusal and Thor's face turned hurt as he tried to continue. 

"Wait, wait, Thor, just wait. We haven't decided who's gonna put that on yet." Steve explained. Thor shifted on his feet, clearly upset with their rejection.  

"I'm sorry. What, we're just sitting around waiting for the right opportunity?" He asked,

annoyed. Scott looked to Y/n hoping she might use some of her 'therapist powers' he called them after realizing she really couldn't read minds. 

"We should at least discuss it." Y/n tried to reason. Thor shook his head stubbornly, swaying unsteadily on his feet. 

"No, no, sitting here staring at that thing is not gonna bring everybody back. I'm the strongest Avenger, okay? So this responsibility falls upon me. It's my duty." He told them, gesturing to the gauntlet then himself. 

"It's not about that–" Tony told him gently, coming to stand in front of him as he started to move Thor back. Thor resisted but was unsuccessful as he started to grow emotional. "Hey buddy-" Tony tried again only to be cut short by Thor frantically shushing him and everyone else. 

"Stop it! Just let me! Just let me do it. Just let me do something good. Something right." Thor begged, tears filling his eyes. He was desperate to prove he was worthy, to prove he could still be the hero he once was. 

"Look– It's not just the fact that that glove is channeling enough energy to light up a continent, I'm telling you, you're in no condition." Tony fought. There was no way they were going to let him hold the fate of the world in his hand while he was drunk. Even the Thor he was years ago shouldn't have held that kind of power, it was too risky. 

"What do you– What do you think is coursing through my veins right now?" Thor asked, his eyes studying Tony's for any kind of hope that might tell him they would let him make the sacrifice. 

"Cheez Whiz?" Rhodey scoffed, earning a glare from Y/n. Thor looked over at Rhodey pointing a shaky finger at him as he tried not to cry in frustration. He held onto Tony, grasping at his shoulders and prying Tony's attention away from Rhodey's comment. 

"Lightning." Thor corrected, looking back to Tony with pleading eyes. Tony nodded but he knew he couldn't allow Thor to wear the gauntlet. "Lightning." Thor repeated, distraught but Tony's reaction. 

"Lightning won't help you, pal. It's gotta be me." Bruce announced suddenly. Thor shook his head letting go of Tony. "You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive." Bruce explained. 

"How do we know you will?" Steve questioned as Bruce paced over to the gauntlet. 

"We don't. But the radiation's mostly gamma. It's like...I was made for this." Bruce mumbled. He gazed intensely at the stones, silently calculating his odds. If the Hulk couldn't handle this, was this really how he was going to die? And if so would it even work? 

They looked at each other knowing it was their best chance at bringing them back. They had to take it. 

Tony stepped forward, grabbing the gauntlet and handing it to Bruce as they headed to a more secure part of the lab. 

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Y/n asked Bruce quietly. She knew how Nat's death had affected him and she refused to make the same mistake with him. 

"Yes. We have to finish this." He declared. Y/n watched as he paced forward to catch up with Tony as she lagged behind to Steve. 

"Do you think this will work?" Steve questioned. Y/n chewed her lip anxiously, focusing her stare at the gauntlet as Steve came to stand beside her. 

"Bruce's gamma radiation is stronger and most equipped to handle the energy but it's still dangerous. The stones are too powerful together, I didn't think they were ever really meant to be used together." She sighed, hating the sacrifices that came with saving the world. If they lost someone else just for this to not work was it really even worth trying? 

"Bruce is strong." Steve tried to ease her worry but it wasn't enough. 

"I know. I just-I can't keep losing people, Steve. It's like a curse. Every time I try to do something good…-" 

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're not gonna lose anyone else. Not on my watch." Steve promised but both of them knew it was practically empty. There was no guarantee. "Let's just bring everyone back." 

Y/n tried to smile but like his promise it was hollow. "Yeah, okay." 

"Good to go, yeah?" Tony questioned as Bruce carefully held the piece in his large hands. He seemed anxious but who wouldn't be in that situation. 

"Let's do it." He confirmed as Y/n and Steve returned to the group. She walked around him, stopping beside Tony and sharing a steady nod. 

"You remember–everyone Thanos snapped away five years ago, you're just bringing them back to now, today. Don't change anything from the last five years." Tony told him seriously.

"Got it." Bruce assured. Then suddenly the room grew quiet and a tenseness settled in the air that Y/n was too amazed to catch onto. For the first time she realized she was living the dream of millions of people. Everyone had readied themselves and Y/n watched as they stood there in their superhero uniforms, the power and determination they all had washing over her. 

Tony pressed his chest allowing his suit to expand and morph to his body, a shield lighting up before him. His stare then drifted to Y/n who still stood there in her casual clothes, watching them all confused and out of place. Why were they getting ready now? They were doing this here? 

"Hey, kiddo. Come on." Tony urged, motioning to her earpiece. She gave a soft 'oh' mimicking him as she pressed the button making her own suit appear. A shield of her own design came to her forearm and Tony eyed it curiously. 

"Did you mess with the suit?" He asked, the seriousness in his tone startling her a bit. She shrugged, looking at him defensively. 

"Yeah, you said it was just a prototype so I fixed it a bit." She explained. He looked away, grateful she couldn't see the entertained smirk on his lips as he turned back to Bruce. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol. Will you?" Tony called. Y/n had gotten used to the suit during the time she could spare to examine it and she put 70% power into the armor, figuring if something did go wrong it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little more protected. 

"Yes, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y replied. Metal doors began to close off the lab as the compound went into lockdown and if the seriousness of the situation hadn't set in yet it definitely did then as Y/n widened her stance to try and brace herself. 

"Everybody comes home." Bruce reminded himself, cautiously reaching his hand into the gauntlet. The gauntlet expanded to fit his hand thanks to Tony's nanotech but as soon as it was fully on the power of the stones surged through him. He grunted in pain collapsing to his knees as the energy began to burn into his arm. 

"Take it off! Take it off!" Thor cried, waving his hands as Bruce shakily held the gauntlet. Steve stepped forward, keeping anyone from acting. 

"No, wait. Bruce, are you okay?" Steve questioned. He knew more than anyone that just because something was painful didn't mean they couldn't do it. 

"Talk to me, Banner." Tony called, becoming more concerned with each unresponsive moment. Y/n started moving to help but froze as Bruce looked up at them.  

"I'm okay. I'm okay." He insisted. They eased up a little and everyone watched carefully as he tried to regain control of the stones. Thor gave a double thumbs up, watching the scene before him with an astounded expression. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y what are his vitals?" Y/n questioned anxiously. Charts bloomed around Bruce and she quickly read them realizing his heart rate was dangerously high. In fact everything was high, his blood pressure, his respiration rate, even his body temperature had increased. Bruce screamed again, fighting the instinct to remove the gauntlet from the overwhelming pain it caused him as he lined up his fingers. 

The world seemed to stop at the echoing of the snap, the fated sound she'd only heard about for five years finally filling her head the same way it had for the others. 

He fainted and the gauntlet fell off his arm, clattering on the floor before Clint quickly kicked it away from him. 

"Bruce!" Steve called, kneeling beside him as the others rushed forward to check on him. Y/n tugged the remains of his sleeve back gently as Tony kneeled beside her, holding up his hand. 

"Don't move him." Tony demanded, applying a coolant spray from his fingertips over Bruce's arm. Bruce groaned, reaching out and grabbing Steve's arm urgently. 

"Did it work?" He questioned breathlessly, keeping his large hand tight around Steve's arm. Thor gave him a reassuring smile while Y/n looked over the damage of his arm. 

"We're not sure. It's okay." Thor soothed, his voice hopeful as he turned his gaze toward the door where the lab was starting to open up again. Scott walked off to the now open area and some of the others spread out to see what had happened but Y/n stayed at Bruce's side. 

"You did great, Bruce." She told him, giving him a smile to which he returned, though it was a bit more pained. A muted vibrating came from the table on the other side of the room and Y/n turned to see Clint walking over to it almost numb. 

Did it work? 

"Honey? Honey." Clint spoke, his voice quivering in joy as Y/n looked at Tony. They shared a wide eyed glance, both rattled by the idea that they might have actually won. 

Y/n wished to look at her wrist, praying that the countdown she had before the snap returned. She couldn't even remember how many days it had read back then but it didn't matter anymore. She just wanted to meet her soulmate. Would he be looking for her?  

Were his eyes really blue? 

But their victory couldn't last long and Y/n knew that as she followed Bruce's gaze to the skylight above them. There flying menacingly above the compound was the biggest spacecraft she had ever seen and dread instantly set in upon seeing the missile coming their way. 

"Look out!" Y/n screamed, trying to warn the others but it was too late. Her helmet quickly came forward along with her shield which she tried desperately to put over Bruce's head, protecting her and him from falling debris. But the roof wasn't the only thing falling apart. 

The floor split and some of the group fell into the large hole while Y/n struggled to regain her balance. She quickly looked around her, catching sight of Steve sliding across the floor toward the hole. Using the thrusters, she launched forward, grabbing hold of one of the straps to his uniform and dragging him back toward Tony. 

The building was falling down around them and any means of escape were closing off faster than she could find them. Steve managed to climb to his feet again but before either of them could come up with a plan a large piece of the roof fell, striking Y/n down. She cried out falling through the floor to the room below, getting pinned on her stomach under the roofing. 

"Y/n!" Steve yelled, peering down into the hole. Y/n gasped, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Tony looked down too, the two men struggling to keep themselves up as they waited anxiously for her to speak. 

"Minimal damage to prototype armor." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced making Y/n groan. She slowly lifted herself up using her back to push off the rumble before leaning back on her knees, panting slightly. 

"You call that minimal?" She questioned, annoyed. Tony chuckled through the headset, her reply giving him a little relief knowing she was alright.  

"The suits can handle more than we can, kid." He explained. Y/n grumbled, climbing to her feet. She didn't care how durable the suit was, she was still very much human inside the metal and every hit the suit felt, she did too. 

"Are you okay?" Steve called, leaning closer to the edge of the hole. Tony put a hand on his chest, keeping him from falling in while Y/n slowly climbed to her feet. 

"Yeah. I'm fine, Steve." She waved her hand pretending to be nonchalant before coughing from how forcefully her lungs had been emptied. They were about to attempt to go down to her when the floor they were on shifted and Steve fell over, sliding off to another part in the lab. 

"Cap!" Tony called, trying to reach out and catch him. Steve called back that he would be alright giving Tony a little assurance as he turned his gaze back to Y/n. "This building is falling apart!" He called down to her. 

"What do you want me to do?" She asked, looking around at the floor around her. She had landed in the living room area, one of her favorite places but like the rest of the facility it was falling to ruin. 

"Find the stones. We can't risk losing them." Tony instructed. Y/n let out a short sigh, the weight of the task making her stomach turn. 

"Is it too late to go home?" She joked. Tony smiled softly unbeknownst to Y/n. The building shook again with another hit and he knew he wouldn't have long to talk to her. 

"No." He answered truthfully. If she could find a way out, there would be nothing stopping her. She could easily fly away and forget about this. "But you know what they say. It only takes one fight to make a hero." Tony explained. 

Y/n pierced her lips, knowing that she never really intended on leaving. She was all in from the moment Scott had been yelling into the camera and though she'd been doubtful before, she knew this was where she was meant to be. 

"Go be Iron Star." Tony chuckled, making her scoff and shake her head. Of course, he had to ruin the moment. 

"We really gotta talk about that name!" She called, turning away and running off toward the window to her left. Using the thrusters in the metallic boots she flew forward and smashed through the glass, unsteadily keeping herself in the air outside. 

"Just find the stones." 

•••

When Bucky had woken up he was right where he'd been in Wakanda. T'Challa ran to him trying very hastily to explain what had happened. They had been gone for five years according to the wizard man they called 'Strange' and now they needed to come fight Thanos again. 

While Bucky was usually quick to understand and move on to the next fight, he couldn't help but stop at this news. He'd promised himself that the fight with Thanos was the last time so that he could find his soulmate but he was still fighting. When would it stop?

For a split second he feared maybe his chance at meeting his soulmate had come and gone and he frantically ripped back his right sleeve to look at his wrist. 

"3 days?" Sam asked, peeking down at Bucky's arm as T'Challa organized his army. Bucky numbly nodded, his heart racing as he watched the seconds tick away. He was three days away from her. 

He had to make it through this time. 

No matter what. 

•••

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you scan the compound for the stones' energy signature?" Y/n questioned, looking over the wreckage of what was once the Avengers compound. It didn't even look the same, all blown to the foundation with rubble spread around like a battlefield. 

"I detect energy levels matching the stones underneath the building in the sewer systems. You should have access through what's left of the first floor." The A.I. answered. Y/n flew over to the nearest opening of the building, using micro lasers to burn a hole into the floor leading down into the sewers. 

She jumped down into it, landing as quietly as possible before looking around. It was hard to see much, the only light being the blaring red light of the alarm system but the tunnel appeared empty other than the obvious debris and flooding. She cautiously walked forward watching as her display outlined the surrounding area. 

It was eerily silent, the soft trickling of water putting her on edge as she continued down the tunnel, following the power signature of the stones. 

"I detect hostiles approaching." F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke suddenly. Y/n watched carefully as her display changed, showing a clearer picture using an x-ray of the surroundings. The stones rapidly approached as did the hostiles and she quickly held up her hands, powering up the repulsors as Clint ran into her vision.  

"Shoot 'em!" Clint screamed, narrowly dodging one of the creatures that lined the tunnel. Y/n did what he said, firing at the closest creature before moving onto the next, trying to hold them off long enough for Clint to run past her. 

"What the hell are these things?!" She yelled, following after him as they both broke off into a sprint through the water. 

"I don't know but I'm tired of this alien shit!" Clint shouted over his shoulder as Y/n glanced back at the creatures, firing again at one that got too close. Clint pulled out one of his arrows, throwing it into one of the pipes next to them before running faster. 

Catching onto what he was doing, she picked up speed as well, jumping with him as the arrow exploded taking out most of the creatures. Y/n looked up from the ground, noticing that some of them had started to crawl through the flames making her climb to her feet, grabbing Clint under his arms. 

She activated the thrusters and they launched up, faltering a bit since Y/n had barely learned to fly by herself let alone while carrying someone. Clint unsheathed his sword, yelling as he cut through some of the creatures that had climbed up beside them. 

Once reaching the top Y/n dropped him to the side before falling herself, tumbling a few feet away. Clint climbed to his knees, holding out his sword as he let out a threatening shout. Thankfully, no other creatures appeared over the edge and he collapsed onto his back next to Y/n. 

"Hey." Clint chuckled, nudging Y/n tiredly. "You're an Avenger now." He told her drawing a half-hearted laugh from her. She groaned the pain in her ribs increasing at the action and she put a hand over her side. 

"Being an Avenger hurts." 

•••

Once going through the portal the wizard had made, Bucky was met with a wasteland. Thanos and Steve watched as others arrived through the portals and while Steve's expression was much more relieved than Thanos', it was clear they were only evening the playing field as Bucky looked toward Thanos' forces. 

The Wakandan armies chanted as hundreds of other heroes came through the portals, each ready for the final battle. He walked forward, coming to stand a few feet away from Steve as he studied the enemy across the way. He was determined to finish what they had started five years ago. He wanted to find his soulmate and he wanted this fight to truly be the last. 

"Avengers!" Steve called. Bucky held his breath, hoping with everything he had that for all his misfortune over the years, today would end better. 

He'd suffered for a lifetime. 

Please let this be the last fight. 

"Assemble." 

Everyone yelled, running forward at Thanos' forces. The fight broke out and Bucky managed to find himself alongside the raccoon he'd encountered last time. They shared brief eye contact and Rocket's eyes flashed with recognition while Bucky tried to ignore him. 

"How about now?!" Rocket yelled, motioning to his arm. Bucky glanced over at him, growing annoyed with the talking animal's persistence. What the hell would a raccoon do with his arm? 

"No!" Bucky yelled back. He turned, noticing one of the creatures had been sneaking up on Steve while he had his back turned and Bucky quickly shot at it, knocking it down. Steve turned, giving Bucky a grateful and joyous smile. Bucky smiled back making sure to keep aware of the creatures around him. 

"What the hell did you get me into, Steve?" Bucky yelled teasingly. His friend gave a short chuckle, using the large hammer to slam back another one of Thanos's creatures. 

"Nothing two old men can't handle." 

Taglist:

Part eleven

@cancanmarvel

@jessyballet

@eldahae

@mc225g

@kissesofdeadforme

@wantingtobekorra

@sxphiiwrld

@lunaticbarnes

@indecisivedolly

@saiyanprincesswanie

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[koyacyi-vode]

Request by @tarnera-blog || Prompt from this post

Prompt 1 - "Are you drunk?"

Characters: Cody and Fox

Mando’a Translations at the bottom

---

22 BBY  6 months after the first Battle of Geonosis

Fox should have thought better than trying to hide from Cody when the 212th was stationed on Coruscant. His batchmate seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to finding him when he specifically didn't want to be found. 

But maybe he was giving Cody too much credit. If Fox really wanted to hide he would have left the military base. But he wasn't that much of a di'kut. 

Instead, he kept his gaze straight ahead on the First Battle Memorial as he heard Cody's cautious approach. His vod stopped a few feet away.

"What are you doing out here?" Cody asked quietly. 

"Getting some sunshine," Fox replied flatly, his eyes scanning the never-ending list of names and numbers engraved into the massive slab of Geonosian rock. He'd never been able to stay long enough to read them all. 

"It's 0200, ner vod," Cody pointed out, annoyed. Fox hummed thoughtfully and grabbed the nearly empty bottle of Merenzane Gold at his side. He'd gotten it as a gift from a senator for providing a protection detail that he didn’t quite remember doing. It was entirely possible the senator had mistaken him for his other Commanders. He hadn't opened it until tonight. It was smooth and warm, but it took a while to take any effect. He saw Cody stiffen in surprise in his peripheral. "Are you drunk?" 

"Very astute of you, Kot'ika. And you also know that I prefer to be drunk alone," Fox muttered, taking a long swig. He didn't drink often, because he didn't like to not be in control. He also wasn't a very pleasant drunk. 

"Shab, you're depressing," Cody groaned, but instead of leaving he sat down heavily at his side. They sat in silence for a few moments, Cody studying the memorial. Then he extended his hand to Fox, expectant. 

"I don't think you understand the meaning of the word 'alone'," Fox said icily. 

"Like I'm going to leave your miserable shebs here. But since I'm here I deserve to get something out of it," Cody retorted, flicking his fingers at Fox impatiently. Fox grudgingly handed over the bottle, glaring at the memorial in annoyed defeat. "Besides, someone has to drag you back to the barracks before the esteemed Commander of the Guard is found batnor on the ground outside," he reasoned with a smirk. Cody took a sip from the bottle. "That would put a dent into your reputation," he chuckled around the lip of the glass. 

Fox didn't respond. Normally if he heard a jab like that from Cody he would have smacked him on the shoulder. But that had hit a nerve and he didn't want to show it. He snatched the bottle from Cody's hand and drank more from it, feeling Cody's stare on the side of his face.

"What's going on, Fox’ika?" he asked, the concern clear in his tone. "Why are you haryc b'aalyc, alone, in the middle of the night, out in the cold?"

"How did you feel when you were promoted to Marshal Commander?" Fox asked, avoiding Cody's question. He fiddled with the neck of the bottle, turning it around in his hands and watching as the liquid sloshed back and forth. 

"Uh, hmm," Cody sounded surprised by the sudden question and took a moment to form his thoughts. "I was surprised. Honored, by General Kenobi's faith in me. I guess… I guess it made me feel proud," he said, looking up at the sky. The stars were hard to see on Coruscant because of the light pollution, but the hundreds of speeders that flew by in a steady flow in the skylanes were peaceful in their own kind of way. 

"I think I should have felt that," Fox mumbled, not taking his eyes off of the memorial. It had an imposing, ghostly presence at night when the spotlights shined on it. "Being assigned the Commander of the Guard. I think that's what my response should have been," he set the bottle between his feet. 

"It wasn't?" Cody asked carefully. Fox shook his head messily and it made the world spin a bit. 

"Nah. I think I was disappointed," he said, scratching at his chin. He needed to shave. "I only got to fight in Geonosis. To feel like I was really a part of - of everything. To fight with our brothers for what we were bred for," he blew out a long exhale. "We're so disconnected here. From the war, from our vode. We are closest to the Republic, but furthest from making a difference," Fox scrubbed a hand across his face in irritation. "And it makes me frustrated. And I know I shouldn't be. Did you know I have to read mission reports for the Chancellor? Every day. I read about all of my brothers who are killed on the front lines, while I'm stuck here. I send my men on diplomatic missions that they sometimes don't return from and all I can do is sign off on it. Protecting the homeworld of the Republic should feel like an honor. But it feels like a prison."

Cody was silent for a long time. Fox gritted his teeth and rocked back and forth a bit, anxiety thrumming in his veins. That wasn't something he was supposed to even think let alone say out loud. 

"Are you going to court-martial me, Marshal Commander? For my wavering loyalty to the Republic?" Fox asked, his voice hoarse and detached. 

"I don't see any evidence of wavering loyalty, vod'ika," Cody replied softly. Fox glanced at Cody and bounced his knee nervously, waiting for him to continue. "What I see is a man who takes the weight of the war on his shoulders. And who is not at fault for circumstances out of his control," Cody reached over and grasped Fox's hand in a firm grip. Fox squeezed back, the point of contact his only emotional anchor. 

"He died today," Fox choked out. "1123. He was the last of my platoon from Geonosis. Underground mine on Ryloth. I don't know if he ever even had a name," Fox fought back tears. The thirty-six men he had taken with him on a dangerous flank assault during Geonosis were some of the bravest men that Fox knew. Of the thirty-six, only twelve survived. Fox had been told that it was lucky any of them had survived at all, and that their assault had been vital for securing the region. He'd been commended for it. But he'd never considered losing two-thirds of his men a victory. After Geonosis, he was transferred to the newly formed Coruscant Guard, and his men were disbanded and placed in other battalions. One by one, he'd read out their numbers as they appeared on casualty reports. And each one was more painful than the last. "They're all gone."

Cody didn't say anything for a while. Then he reached over and wrapped an arm around Fox's shoulders. Fox momentarily stiffened. But the calming, steady presence of his vod soon melted the tension and he relaxed into the hold, his head dropping heavily on Cody's shoulder. 

"It's not any easier when you're there," Cody whispered. "The 'what ifs' and 'if onlys' are always present. Our men die, we are forced to move on, and we mourn together when we can," his batchmate's voice was quiet and calm, he was stating a fact even if it was painfully rooted in emotion. 

"I don't know what this city is going to do to me," Fox admitted, his gaze unfocused. "War is hard, but it's straightforward. The senate and the politics… they're not. I'm worried about what I'll become because of this place." That was a secret he hadn't told a single soul. Fox took it as the signal it was and decided to stop drinking for the night. He sighed and moved out of Cody's embrace. Cody let him, watching carefully as Fox wobbily staggered to his feet. Fox hooked a finger around the neck of the bottle of Merenzane Gold and offered it to Cody when his vod stood as well. Cody took it and raised an eyebrow and Fox shrugged it off lazily. 

"You deserve it for listening to me," he said, trying to lighten the somber mood. Cody frowned but nodded, picking up the cap from the ground and screwing it on. 

"You want to head inside now?" Cody asked, tilting his head towards the base entrance. Fox shrugged again, already closing himself off. They started walking slowly back. Fox felt the last bits of his vulnerability start to seal up. 

"Kot'ika," he said quietly to Cody's back. Cody looked back to him curiously. "Don't… tell anyone," he mumbled. Cody smiled, genuine and sad.

"You're safe with me, ner vod."

--

Mando’a Translations:

Di’kut - Idiot, fool (impolite) (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on) Vod(e) - Brother(s) Ner vod - My brother (usually affectionate) (proper noun)’ika - affectionate or diminutive suffix Shab - contemptuous expletive Shebs - backside, rear, buttocks (can also mean rear of a building) Batnor - drunk (lit. on your back) Haryc b’aalyc - Tired and emotional (also another way to describe being drunk)

[wickedbarnes]

Guns and Roses (Pt. 2) | John Wick x Reader

Part 1

SYPNOSIS: After the little visit from the new flower shop downtown, John slowly finds himself on edge and being haunted by a certain innocent girl.

THEME: Non-con. Dubcon. Obsession. Dark!John x Innocent/Naive!Reader. Abduction. Lots of smut. Don't read if any of these make you uncomfortable. 18+ readers ONLY.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Slight mention of violence.

John hadn't find the time to visit her yet. And days passed by, he had grown irritated by the fact without him noticing. He was easily angered but then again, he was like a ticking time bomb ever since his wife died. When Helen Wick was sent six feet underground, she took the man that John once was.

A whole different version of him was left behind. A version of him that shook his enemies to the core. Because if John Wick was already known to be brutal, the man who he is today was worse than that now. And somehow, that alarmed some people.

Some of them believed he was losing a few screws. But they weren't bold enough to be loud about the rumor. They didn't want to take any chances. Last time someone uttered the name of Helen Wick and used it to push John's buttons, they had their head cut off. The slow way. After that, no one was brave enough to do what the last guy did.

And somehow, his pal, Aurelio noticed how John was always so antsy and on edge as if one tap on his shoulder would cause him to have a killing spree.

"John, you need to take it easy." He sighed and poured the man a drink. The assassin grumbled and leaned back on his seat broodingly.

"I am taking it easy." He reasoned out but he knew Aurelio wasn't buying any of that shit.

"I'm not stupid, man. I notice how you seem so... I don't know, seem so... irritated. Like something's been bugging you. Do you wanna tell me about it?"

"There's nothing to tell." By the tone of John's voice, Aurelio raised his arms up in defeat.

"Okay, but you gotta push yourself, man." He sighed and took a sip of his drink, "You can't mope around forever. You need to do something. Go out, find someone new, figure a new hobby. Stop restricting yourself, John."

John gripped the glass tightly as his mood worsened by what Aurelio was saying but a voice inside his head told him that he was just doing what any friend would do during a hard time.

"I'm perfectly fine with how I'm doing. I got a job, I book bind, I keep myself busy. I'm good to go." John answered which made his friend sigh deeply.

"John, you're holding yourself back and it's so evident. Stop doing things that you feel is what you need to do. Do the things that you want to do. I know for a fact that you don't want to go back to being an assassin nor does book binding give you enough benefits now but you're doing them because you feel somehow obligated."

John stayed silent as Aurelio's words began to register inside his head.

"You still have some years left, man. Don't waste it. If you want to socialize, do it. Don't hold yourself back. Jesus, if you want to hook up with thousands of bitches, do it! No one's telling you no."

John took a huge swig of his drink.

"What I'm saying is, I know Helen wouldn't have wanted you to live this way. She would've wanted you to move on."

John sometimes hated how right Aurelio was. He sometimes hated it when he makes a point and that often happens. But his words did got himself thinking.

Would Helen be happy with the man John has turned out?

He already knew the answer to that but John can't bring himself to accept it. Without another word, he got up from his seat and decided to call it a day before he drove back into his empty shell of a home.

It wasn't even dark out yet. But John found himself being utterly exhausted. Maybe it was because of his recent mission the other day. Sighing, he craned his neck a bit and felt the kink that had been bothering him for a few days. The bruises on his body didn't help either. He somehow remembered how Helen would tend to his wounds everytime before he retired. How she'd treat every cut and every bad bruise that was etched on his skin.

But now he needed to make do and do all that himself.

Or maybe someone could still do it for him? Would that girl have the same touch as Helen had or would it be more comforting? Would it be- No. No.

John shook his head and tightened his grip around the steering wheel. This was one of his everyday struggle now. Ever since he visited that damn flower shop, John finds himself thinking about her every now and then. Even when he willed himself not to, that girl was sneaky enough to slip through his mind yet again.

The assassin would sometimes compare her to Helen. There was no doubt she was younger than him and even younger than Helen. If John wasn't mistaken, maybe he was twice her age. And he hates how he likes that fact.

He never found himself being attracted to women who were much younger than him. But after seeing her, John finds himself debating whether he'd make an exception for that.

The daisy he tucked safely in the pocket of his coat was placed neatly and safely on his nightstand. Why? He has no idea. But at the same time, he does. The daisy was as delicate as she was. And John wanted to grasp that sense of delicateness and purity in his hands. He wanted to cherish it somehow. And so, every morning when he wakes up, he'd check to see if the daisy that fell from her hair was still there where he placed it.

He relaxed everytime he sees it.

"Get your shit together." He'd tell himself. But just as he did, he found himself driving by the familiar flower shop. And if John had the chance to kick himself right in the balls for parking on the side of the road, he would've.

He should've walked away. He should've drove back home but his feet had carried him inside the shop where he found himself entering, the bell ringing as he opened the door.

There weren't many customers inside but John had noticed there was quite a change the last time he had been here. There were more chairs and tables and John noticed how there were baked goodies being served to the customers.

His attention was taken when he found her walking out from the back of the room with flour smeared on her cheek. Today, she was wearing a pastel pink, puff-sleeved dress and her hair was let loose, letting it pool down her back in beachy waves. She looked absolutely adorable. Stunning, even.

And John found himself admiring the color pink on her.

"Oh, hey!" The girl greeted her with a bright smile on her face, "Haven't seen you around. Have you been taking good care of your cactus?"

John chuckled and stuffed his hand in the pockets of his jeans as he nodded.

"Yeah, I finally got the hang of it. It's looking pretty healthy, thankfully."

"That's great! If you want more, just tell me and I'll give you a discount." She'd say, whispering the last part to him as if she was afraid someone would hear and be offended that she offered John a discount.

"Oh, I'll keep that in mind for sure."

"So, what can I get you today? Finally managed to turn this into a little café. And thank God I don't have to do it all alone now." John turned his head to see a girl just about her age serving coffee to the couple on the other side of the room.

"This place looks great, really." John complimented her and began to look over at the pastries that were placed on the display counter.

He wasn't a big fan on sweets but John didn't want to be rude and come here just to chat with her although he wouldn't mind that one but. But a voice in his head convinced him to at least buy one of her baked goods and have a taste on something that she made herself.

"I'll just have a blueberry muffin and some coffee to go, sweetheart." John would say after some time, not meaning to call her another pet name. He internally punched himself in the face for that and somehow hoped she didn't catch onto it or at least find it weird.

But he was relieved, a bit ecstatic when he saw how her face blushed slightly to what he just called her. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning at the fact that he now knows he somehow has an effect on the girl.

She'd nod her prettt little head and wrote his order quickly on the notepad she had.

"How would you, uhm, like your coffee, sir?" She asked, looking up at him with those adorable fucking doe eyes and John had to clench his fist to stop himself from reaching over and caress her cheek while she looked up at him like this. As if she was ready to submit whatever he wanted her to submit.

"Black. No sugar, no creamer." John answered as the bashful girl in front of him nodded her head obediently and John smiled faintly at how she took in every word he had said.

"This'll be done in a minute or two. Find somewhere you can sit and I'll serve it to you." She smiled and John thanked her for her service and immediately gave her his pay. But as she began to prepare his order, John slipped in a generous amount of cash and put it inside the tip jar that she had before he walked over to a vacant seat near the counter where she worked.

He knew she could've easily just called her name so he could get the order himself since that's how cafés usually work but since she offered to serve his order herself, how could John possibly say no to an offer like that?

It only took a few minutes before she walked over to his table and placed his order down carefully in front of him. John's eyes were focused on her, as if he was taking in every bit of her features inside his mind, as if he was trying to memorize every crevice of her body, every freckle or mark that she had on her skin and by the looks of how her cheeks had blushed yet again, John knew that she knew he had been staring at her.

"Will that be all, sir?" She asked somewhat shyly and John chuckled at her bashfulness. She looked adorable. Too adorable. And not the kind where he wanted to pinch her cheeks. It was the kind where he wanted to push her up against the wall or caress her inner thigh just to see what kind of reaction she would get.

"That'll be all, sweetheart. But I suppose it wouldn't be too much of me if I ask for your name?" He asked politely, not wanting to come off as creepy or too intense. He wouldn't want to risk blowing up his chance in knowing the name of the fairy-like dame such as herself.

"O-Oh, uh..." She bit her lip down nervously before she answered, "Y/N, sir. Y/N Y/LN."

"Y/N." John whispered to himself as if he was testing what her name would sound like rolling off of his tongue, "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm John. John Wick."

Y/N smiled faintly at his name and held the circular tray close to her chest.

"It's nice to meet you, John. Hope you enjoy your meal." She'd say and with that, she went back to the counter and began to serve the other customers that came in. Whether they wanted to try out her new pastries and coffee or needed assisting when it came to flowers.

John didn't waste his time nor his money and began to dig into his muffin and surprisingly, he found out how much he liked it. The muffin wasn't too sweet nor was it too bland. It was just right for his taste. He could never finish the muffin that Helen made back then. They always came out too sweet. Sometimes too dry. Even the coffee he ordered managed to taste better than the one he drinks at home.

The assassin seemed pleased that he managed to finish everything he had ordered. Not only that, it gave him more reason to stop by the shop more. Either he wanted to try Y/N's other baked goods or just for her, only he had to know.

Unfortunately, he had to live early. He had a mission to get to tomorrow and he couldn't risk going without getting any proper sleep. So he begrudgingly stood up from his seat and made his way to the door but not before turning back and sending Y/N a smile and a wink.

The tint of pink reappeared on her soft ample cheeks and John chuckled as she bit her lip and looked away, probably too embarrassed to even wave goodbye at him.

But either way, he was satisfied with how his day had ended.

That night, John went into a blissful sleep. He could swear he smelled the strong aroma of black coffee, could see the flowers loitering in a familiar looking shop, could taste the blueberry muffin he ate earlier.

He could also feel the gentle touch of a certain girl that did nothing but just drive him crazy these past few days. He could feel the fabric of a pastel pink dress brushing against his knee and the giggle that belonged to someone that had daisies in her hair.

This was the first time that he had dreamt of someone apart from Helen and her death. This was the first time he felt warmth radiating in his body. It was the first time he had dreamt of her.

And slowly but surely, he could feel Y/N leaning in, her soft cherry glossed lips brushing against the shell of his ear that only caused him to grip on his pillow tightly.

"John. Wake up, John." She'd whisper just as John heard the familiar beeping of his alarm clock. He fluttered his eyes open and immediately turned it off.

It was 5:30 AM. Sighing, he slowly sat up and turned to look at the daisy that sat perfectly on his nightstand.

And maybe, just maybe, in his groggy state, John picked up his wife's bracelet and placed it inside the drawer before closing it, leaving the little daisy and the cactus Y/N had gifted him on his nightstand.

He smiled at the view. It looked refreshing. But somehow, there was a feeling settling in his stomach that stirred the guilt in him a bit.

Because that was also the first time he had put away Helen's bracelet somewhere where he couldn't see.

But soon enough, the guilt died down as quickly as it came.

TAGS: @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz @fairylightsandchai @pinkzsugar @edgiestwinter @paanchu786 @meetmeinthematinee @baphometwolf666 @fortheloveoffanfic @thesadvampire

[athenadcvell]

So I have 2 requests, you don't have to do both. 1. Loki meeting Wanda for the first time 2. Dr. Strange meeting Wanda for the first time. Neither are in a romantic way just how they would react to meeting her because she is a total badass.

@becausewhyknotme​ Hello again! So, sorry this took so long, but I finally wrote the fanfic! I’m going to save you all the excuses and just apologize for not writing this sooner, but at least it’s finally here!  I didn’t know if you wanted two separate fics of them meeting Wanda, but I ended up writing it all in one. Sorry if it’s not what you wanted, but I hope it is, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

Word Count: 3,503 words

Warnings: None

A/N: I didn’t know if you wanted two separate fics of them meeting Wanda, but I ended up writing it all in one. Sorry if it’s not what you wanted, but I hope it is, and I hope y’all enjoy it!

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“I’m exhausted,” Wanda collapses against the couch in the Avengers Tower living room, resting her head back with a heavy sigh.

“Aww, you’re getting it dirty!” Sam exclaims, making exaggerated arm gestures at the couch, now covered with the mud crusted on Wanda’s jacket. She pops one eye open, raising a brow up at him.

“So?”

“So, it’s the couch!”

“It’s not your house.”

“No, I only live here about five days a week,” Sam scoffs sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“You should know by now that Sam is a clean freak, Wand,” Natasha walks into the room, dressed in her workout gear and smirking at the two teammates.

“Yeah, apparently the only one here,” Sam mutters, plopping down on a bar stool. “Tony would give you shit too if he was here. I’m pretty sure that one couch alone cost him ten grand.”

“Like that makes a dent in his wallet,” Wanda waves him off, pulling out her phone. Natasha watches the two of them in amusement as she makes her protein shake.

“So how’d the mission go?”

“A success,” Sam jumps on the change of subject, grinning. “Busted the sex trafficking ring, and managed to get the guy in charge of it all.”

“Good,” Natasha nods, spooning the powder into a cup. “I’m going to go do reports right now. Do you have any?”

Sam groans, nodding. “I have some to finish, too. I’ll join you, lemme just go and shower,” With that, he grabs his duffel bag and jogs off to the elevator. Natasha mixes together her drink, looking up at the teenager, who is still occupied on her device.

“What about you, Maximoff? Any reports?”

“I was going to go into the city to get some groceries.” Wanda stands up, brushing off the dirt she left on the couch. “I’ll catch you guys later,” The two bid farewell, the enhanced rushing off to wash up. Once she’s changed into a pair of jeans and an Avengers hoodie, she makes her way into the busier parts of New York. It’s a fairly normal day in the city, with an averagely large crowd roaming the streets and doing their business. No one recognizes her, which is nice. It’s hard to go out nowadays without being recognized by someone as, “That one witch girl”. It can get annoying, but she has it far better than someone like Natasha, or Steve, or God forbid Tony.

However, nothing out of the usual happens. She goes into the market, and buys some groceries, even getting a few more so she can make some Goulash for dinner. Last time she made it, Sam and Natasha had cleaned off their entire bowl in a matter of seconds, letting her know it was a hit. Of course, there were chefs stationed in the cafeteria that were always there to create intricate and delicious dishes, but cooking a meal from home brought back a swarm of memories of standing in the kitchen with her mother as she carefully added in the correct amount of seasonings and spices, with Pietro being shooed out every now and then for trying to steal some food.

The memory… it makes her heart ache. That was a time when things were normal When she would go to school, and run across the streets of Sokovia with her friends without a care in the world. When her biggest problem was Pietro being the world’s most annoying brother, or a girl at school telling her that her shoes were ugly. What a thought that less than ten years later, everyone she once knew and loved were six feet underground.

As her eyes begin to sting with tears, Wanda takes a deep breath and holds her head high, refusing to shed anymore tears. Today is a good day. She’s had a victory with her team, and she is now going to go home and create a victory dinner. She can reminisce on memories another day.

Instead of wallowing in her own thoughts, Wanda decides to dive into others. She’s not breaking their privacy… per se. She is simply making herself aware of those around her, without really listening to what they’re saying. It’s calming, and to focus on the specific person rather than their specific thought helps to down out the chaos going on in her head. Her eyes flicker around, listening to white noise of thoughts emitting from each individuals head. A middle aged man who has rather quiet ones. An exasperated mother whose thoughts are basically screaming. A homeless man who happens to have a fairly serene set of them. She comes across a teenage boy and accidentally listens in on his actual thought, disgust filling her as he seems to be thinking about Wanda, and a vulgar set of things along side it. She sneers at him and rushes forward.

She continues to do that as she walks through the streets, looking in between alleys for more people. However, she halts to a stop when there seems to be some kind of defect. No thoughts. Not one. Not even a trace of thoughts. That’s…. That’s impossible. Everyone thinks. Not one person has ever had an empty head.

It’s a man, who is leaning against the wall of an alleyway with his head held down. He stands there with an uneasy presence, dressed from head to toe in black. Black pants, a black dress shirt, black boots, and even a black coat that cuts off at his calves. The hood of his coat is thrown overtop his head, covering his face.

Another thing Wanda misses about Sokovia? If she had ever seen a man like this at that time, she would have kept her head down and quickened her pace. Now? Now, the driving force of being a hero forces her to investigate.

She walks into the alley, trying not to look like she’s approaching him, and continues to try and pry into his thoughts. It’s almost as if… he’s pushing her out? How is that even possible? She feels like she’s trying to push helplessly against a locked door, with no hope of entering.

“You can stop trying to read my thoughts,” She jumps at the voice, held with a deep British accent. It sounds familiar, but she can’t pinpoint from where.

‘Maybe if I pretend I didn’t hear him-’

“He-llo?” He tilts his head slightly, revealing a bit of pale skin a sharp cheekbone. “I’m talking to you. It’s rude to ignore someone.”

“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, tightening her grip on the groceries. Her other hand is held behind her back, red wisps of energy curling around her fingertips.

“Not personally, no,” He sighs. “But I know quite a bit about you, little witch,” Before Wanda can react, his hand has flown out, a blast of bright green light slamming against her. Damn it. Natasha always told her her reflexes were too slow.

The superhuman slams against the ground with full force, knocking the wind out of her. Wanda groans in pain, squeezing her eyes shut as she rolls on her side and tries to force her powers out, but her body refuses to cooperate. When she opens her eyes, however, that’s the least of her worries.

A gasp escapes Wanda’s throat as she gazes at the setting. She’s no longer in New York. In fact, she’s not sure where she is.  It’s dark, with a shadow of green over every rock and mountain that litters this place. Where is she?

“I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now,” Wanda whips around, looking for the man. She pushes aside the pain and forces through a small wisp of red on her palms. “I’ve heard many great things, but I wanted to see it for myself. The Witch, they call you.” The voice seems to be coming from all directions.

Finally, however, as if he’s appeared from thin air, a man sits on a rock, calmly watching Wanda with just a tinge of amusement in his emerald eyes. Wanda squints at him. He looks so familiar… Oh!

“You’re Thor’s brother,” She realizes, holding her hands up as the magic begins to grow. How did she not recognize him immediately? He’s out of the dark clothing and now wears his traditional Asgardian outfit, his black hair slicked back. What was his name again?

“I’m not ‘Thor’s brother’,” He rolls his eyes and mocks her in a high pitched tone. “I am Loki, son of Laufey, prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, God of mis-”

“I don’t care,” Wanda spits, and doesn’t hesitate to wire up a big energy blast and direct it at him. It slams against him, knocking him dead on the ground. Wanda lets out a breath she had been holding, but it’s knocked back again when Loki materializes beside her, sighing at the body on the floor. His body. “H-how-”

“You really are so rude,” He scoffs. What is it that Steve and Natasha always tell her? Never lose your cool in a battle? She tries to maintain it to the best of her ability, using another blast to disintegrate him this time. That had to have taken him out, right?

Wrong.

Loki appears again, this time looking a bit bored. “As I said. Rude,” A low growl of frustration escapes her throat, Wadna losing her patience. She normally wouldn’t if this was just any other criminal. But angry, murderous villains who wipe out a significant amount of people because they believe they should be able to rule the world?

Those kind of villains get especially on her nerves.

She uses a bigger blast of energy this time, surrounding him first before caving the ground in on itself. He disappears into the ground, dead. This is the third time, however, and Wanda knows exactly what is about to happen. Another form of Loki appears, sitting leaning contently against a rocky wall while studying his nails.

“But your power,” He remarks in awe. “Now that is quite impressive. If only you knew how to control it. Come on, keep going. This is entertaining,” Wanda stands up, staring at him straightly. When no attack come, he looks up. “I’m assuming we’re ready for a civil conversation?” He yawns. Wanda doesn’t respond, but he takes her silence as answer enough.

With a snap of his fingers, everything vanishes. Well, not everything. They just appear in a different room. It’s not New York, and Wanda is now assuming he has her in some sort of makeshift reality. She just can’t seem to figure out how to snap out of it.

The room is clean, and white. There are no windows, and the walls and flooring seem to be made out of the same glossy white material. There are a few pieces of blocky white furniture, and the only color in the room is the large, breathtaking mural on the ceiling. A war between two colonies, one army of people who look a bit like Thor with a variation of body sizes and colors, while the other are blue giants. In the center is a baby, one half blue, and the other of normal skin color. It is so out of place in this colorless room it sends a series of chills up Wanda’s arms.

Loki sits in one of the chairs, dressed in his green and gold attire, sipping from a silver goblet of what looks like rich red wine. Or blood. Wanda wouldn’t be surprised if it were blood.

“What do you want?” Wanda snarls, her powers boiling on her fingertips. She knows it will do no good, but it’s habit at this point. Loki sets the cup down slowly, staring down at his lap.

“We’ve already covered this,” Chilling emerald pupils snap up, practically burning holes into her own. “I have been wanting to meet you for-” The trickster doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, for in just a second, he’s cut off by a golden circle angrily sparking like a fire forming around his feet, slowly opening up. His eyes frantically move between the ground and Wanda, who is just as confused. In an instant, he falls through, the circle swallowing him whole and closing up again.

It takes a few minutes for Wanda to process what just happened. What just happened?! Her thoughts go a mile a minute. Loki is a trickster God. She knows this., Perhaps this is just another one of his tricks… ? But what good would this even do for him?

The setting slowly begins to disappear, the room turning back to the busy streets of New York. People continue walking beside the alley, as if they have no clue she was just sucked into the twisted reality of a Norse God. They don’t know. Shakily, Wanda walks over to her groceries and picks them up, fumbling for her phone. She needs Avengers back up for this. Wanda wasn’t exactly a superhero when Loki attempted to take over New York, but she knows enough. Enough that she is aware that Steve, Natasha, Tony, and even the retired Clint need to know about this situation.

However, that chance is sucked away from her as another golden circle appears, this time beneath her own feet.

“Oh shi-”

***

Wanda groans softly as she lays on the floor. She doesn't want to get up. If Steve were here, he’d chastise her for giving up so soon. “A hero always needs to get back up,” He would say. If Natasha were here she would probably just attack her and force her to get up.

However, Wanda is tired. She can hear thoughts now, and not one of them is attempting to attack her. If anything, they’re all fairly calm. Curious. Some are cautious, but that’s nothing new.

After a moment, she finds a particularly interesting one. Not quiet like the others, but louder, and, to be quite honest, a bit annoying with the amount of pride. It reminds her a bit of Tony, without all the self pity and guilt. He- it’s he, as far as she can tell- decides to try and grab her. Not in a vicious manner, but more to help her up. She doesn’t want help.

Sighing through her nostrils in annoyance, Wanda flicks her wrist, easily knocking back the man without having to open her eyes. Once she hears a loud oof, followed by alarming thoughts attacking her mind, she opens her eyes and sits up.

Seeing a bunch of men and women dressed in robes while holding up shields and whips that have fiery golden sparks bouncing off of them is not what she expected.

“Stand down,” The man she knocked back holds his hand up, levitating up off the ground.

“Who are you?” Wanda spits, jumping up and getting into a defensive position. Who are these people? The man she attacked seems to be their leader, dressed in the same robes apart from a crisp red cloak wrapped around his shoulders, an eye shaped amule sitting on his chest. The cloak… has thoughts? It’s a living being? What is this, some kind of cult?

“My name is Doctor Stephen Strange,” The man- Doctor Strange- explains, holding his hands up. A ring loops around two of his fingers, but other than that, he seems defenseless. “We were trying to help you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Well, you managed to attract the attention of a being that we have been keeping watch on,” Doctor Strange looks behind him, sneering. Wanda follows his line of sight to find Loki on his knees, some kind of metal device wrapped around his body, holding it in place. He doesn’t seem angry, or worried. More annoyed, if anything.

“I was doing fine,” Wanda rolls her eyes, shooting a deadly glance at Loki. “He’s annoying, but not deadly.”

Loki’s voice comes out muffled beneath the restraints as he tries to speak, his brows lowering. Wanda has no doubt he’s trying to defend himself, while also insulting her in some way.

“Do you know why he was after you?” Strange asks, ignoring his prisoner. Wanda doesn't get an alarming vibes off of the surroundings individuals, so she deems it okay to allow her powers to die down.

“I don’t know. Something about my powers,” The witch replies, raising a brow at him. “You’re turn to answer questions. Who the hell are you and why am I here?”

“We’re sorcerers,” Stephen holds his hand up, dismissing his fellow… sorcerers? They depart, and the few that stay go back to completing their own tasks of meditating or reading. “We monitor and protect the Earth, along with the Eye of Agamotto. There are a list of creatures in this universe we monitor, and you and Loki are on that list.”

Wanda blinks at him. “I’m sorry… what?”

“What part of that was confusing?”

“All of it?” Wanda scoffs, her brows shooting up. Though, not really. She’s already read their minds, and knows exactly what they are speaking of. All this time… sorcerers? Wizards exist? Some magical force protecting the universe has been hiding in the shadows since Earth was first created? She has so many questions running through her mind, but finally decides to settle with one. The one question that gnaws at her the most. “Why are you watching us?”

It’s simple enough, but the thought of someone watching her… it brings an uneasiness to Wanda. She’s been watched. By Hydra, for what felt like centuries. Kept in a little containment room like a bug, observed closely for some sick science project.

“Loki has brought up many reasons to be viewed as a threat,” Stephen explains, raising a brow at the Norse God. “The attack on New York, attempting to take over Asgard, working with other individuals that are also viewed as threats… I don’t think I need to go on. But you,” He nods to one of the men that had stayed in the room, and after reading his mind, Wanda was able to see that his name was Wong, and he was a librarian of sorts. Wong made a few odd symbols with his hands, and above them projected a glowing image. It seemed to be the outline of a girl, who, judging by the body shape, seemed to be Wanda. Surrounded around her was a chaotic mess of scarlet powers. “You have the potential to be one of the most powerful beings that has ever walked this earth. We monitor you to make sure that power doesn’t get out of control.”

“Because you think I don’t know how to handle it?” Wanda spits, glaring. She may still be learning the extent of her abilities, but she won’t have some group of magicians treating her like some child that’s on the verge of a tantrum. Strange is quiet for a moment, not breaking eye contact for a second.

“Yes,” Wanda scoffs at his answer. “Can you blame us? You’ve underestimated them before. Luckily, in those situations, the Avengers handled you. But what if they can’t? You may be powerful, but you almost got manipulated by Loki here easily.”

“He’s the God of mischief!” Wanda bursts, feeling energy bubble up on the surface of her hands. She’s had enough of this. She will leave, whether they allow her or not. Doctor Strange notices the red heat coming from her hands. In the corner, while watching them, Loki begins to speak beneath his chains, however, it all comes out muffled.

“Wait,” Stephen holds out a hand. “I’d really rather speak to you without having to get violent.”

“I don’t want to speak,” Wanda glares, ignoring as Loki’s muffles become louder. “Move, or I will make you move.” The sorcerer opens his mouth to argue back, however, he’s cut off by Loki’s muffled words getting too loud to ignore. Both individuals turn towards the Frost Giant, annoyed.

“What?” Stephen snaps. Wanda rolls her eyes and flicks her wrist, the mouthpiece coming apart. As soon as it does, Loki stretches his jaw, clenching and unclenching it.

“Thank you,” He rolls his eyes. “And I was saying that I did not reach out to you-”

“Kidnap,” Wanda corrects, glaring. Loki sighs.

“Whatever. I did not speak to you because I thought your powers seemed intriguing. That was one of the reasons, but not the main,” Stephen crosses his arms.

“Then what’s the reason?”

“Really? The great and powerful Sorcerer Supreme does not know?”

“Fine. I’ll go get the chains.”

“Will you two stop arguing?” Wanda snaps at both of them, turning back to Loki. “Speak. Why are you ‘reaching out’ to us?”

“Well,” Loki clears his throat. “I was trying to speak with you, not Strange, however, I suppose it’s better this way.”

He stops speaking for a moment, thinking over his words. Stephen frowns. He’s never heard of Loki Odinson being left at a loss for words.

“I… need your help,” Loki’s features turn worrisome. “There is something coming to Earth.”

---

So, I wasn’t sure how to end this off, so I decided to end it with a mysterious mission! Hope you enjoyed :)

[jlpat82]

Not Our Home

Chapter 4

I sat at the cash register the next day, Elise was off and I had no one to talk to. So far I had managed to avoid the fat cat, which was a lot easier then I thought it would be. My cheek throbbed and my side was tender. I flipped through the newspaper, half reading, half daydreaming.

An article caught my attention, Two underlings found slain! I continued to read in horror. One of the men had his throat ripped out to point of partial decapitation. The second of the two, his lower half was found ten feet from his torso. They were found at six am in tube number 36. The police were searching for witnesses but were expecting grim results.

I hadn't taken the tubes this morning, I was running late and hopped a tunnel. I broke out in a cold sweat when remembered I left my work shoes in the tube, shit. This was getting worse.

It was then I looked up and saw two officers talking with my boss. I couldn't hear the conversation but his body language was clear as day. He was angry, his face was red and he shaking his head.

"Excuse me." A stern high pitched female voice snapped me back to my senses. "Is this lane open?"

"Yeah, sorry." I started to ring her items, I glanced over. "What's going on?"

"I don't know!" She scoffed at me, her triangle was facing up, great an upper class. "Some low life goes and get himself killed and everything turns upside down. They should be praising the person that did it. Less scum breathing the air."

"Oh." I finished her order and sent her on her way. I looked over, the cops were gone and so was Robert.

"Julianne to the office please." The over head system shouted. I had a perfectly good phone at my station and he chose to over head me. I locked my till and started the slow trek to his office.

Opening his office door I was hit with a putrid smell of body odor and moldy cheese. I felt my stomach turn, papers stacked knee high in all corners of the room. Robert's desk was covered in porn magazines and crumbs of food.

"Sir?" I asked, wanting nothing more then to run away.

"So, you have yourself in a bit of a pickle." He grinned, his teeth were uneven and yellow. He licked his thin greasy lips, while running his hands over his bald crown.

"I don't understand." He arced a wiry eyebrow at me and ran his hand down the front of his rust colored polo. Crumbs rolled down his pot belly to the floor.

"Your work shoes were found in the side tube." He crossed his hands on the crest of his pudge. "Everyone here knows you walk that tube to work and you recently started walking home at night."

"Last I heard there wasn't anything illegal about walk the tubes. In fact it's highly encouraged because of absorbing vitamin d from the sun." I replied trying to sound cool, to be honest I was nearing panic.

"You're very correct, however, we have proof you left that way last night. Your shoes are found there and you come to work looking like you've been in a fight."

"Yes, someone jumped me and stole my shoes. A small fight broke out and managed to escape and make it home." I tried to spin it around.

"You could tell them that, or I could tell them I over heard you confess to filleting them." A wicked grin broke across his waxy ruddy face.

"What?!"

"Unless you do as I ask, that's what I'll tell them." He stood slowly and waddled toward me. Robert only stood to my chin, but out weighted me by almost two hundred pounds. He tottled around behind me, and slid a fat finger across my bare arm and traced it across my back. "I mean, the alternative is death. So, you do as I ask, every little flavor until I get bored."

I felt like I was to hurl, I needed a boiling hot shower. This disgusting thing was touching me again, I knew what he wanted in exchange for his silence. I'd rather die then let him come anywhere near me in that manner.

"I know how you feel about me, so I'll let think about it tonight and then you can come agree to my terms tomorrow." I didn't respond, I turned and left. I rushed out of the office and out through the tube door, I had to breathe.

I saw the left over blood in the tube. It looked like an attempted to clean it had happened but gave up half way through. The sun was starting to set, the sky had a green tinge to it. I watched as the sand blew across the ground, swirling and dancing.

"Miss, this tube is closed." A gruff voice startled me, I looked over my shoulder. He was standing next to door, arms crossed. His sandy blonde hair peaked out from under his police issued hat. "How'd you get in here?"

"Um, I walked in." I replied meekly, starting towards him and the door, back the direction I had just come. His posture told me he wasn't a happy camper with my response. He had a body builder frame and piercing blue eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you in here?" He voiced echoed off the walls.

"My boss, he made a pass at me. Told me he'd spread hold rumors if I didn't do what he said. I just ran, I need to breathe. I didn't think when I went out the door. No body was guarding it." I tried to pass him. He stood in my way, using his baton to push my face up. He looked at my swollen cheek.

"What happened?" His eyes narrowed.

"I was jumped last night." Here we go, might as get this out of the way.

"Where?" The tube was starting to darken, night was upon us and a sliver of moon peaked again.

"Five feet that way." I pointed down the tube toward my place. There was no way a cop was going to believe I had the strength to rip another person in half.

"Who else was with you?" His body moved in a defensive stance.

"I was by myself. I kicked one of them, it managed to distract the other one and I was able to get away. They were both breathing last I knew." I lied slightly, I didn't move. He had his hand on his belt.

"You're the reason he's dead." That's when it occurred to me, that maybe I wasn't even talking to a cop.

"Who are you?" I took a step back.

"My brother was the one you ripped the throat out of. You sick twisted bitch." He took a heavy step towards me. I took another back.

"I didn't do anything to your brother. He attacked me."

"You shouldn't have been prowling the tubes at night. It's not safe, everyone knows this." He sneered, as keep he walking toward me. "He was working on getting clean. But you had tricked him up here with the promise of a new drug."

Drug? What drug? I just stared at him in completely disbelief.

"Don't play dumb, I found this on him." He tossed the vial of soil at me. Relief washed through my body. He didn't know what he had. "I contemplated arresting you but you wouldn't get what you deserve that way. Hooking innocent people on that shit, turning them into a shell of what they were. Nah, you deserve to suffer."

He took his badge off and dropped it the ground. Well, guess my day was only going to get worse from here. He took off his police vest and hat, I kept backing away slowly, trying not bring any attention to the fact I was trying to put as much of distance between us.

"It's fitting really, destroying you in the same tunnel you murdered him." He calmly stated, looking back to me. That when he hurled is body in my direction, charging at me with large strides. Quickly I spun around and darting to the opposite end of the tube. He was faster then I was and was on me by the time I reached the door.

El buffo grabbed my head and slammed it into the steal door. An explosion in my brain told me it would be a while before I saw straight. I felt my body be thrown back the way we had just ran from. To be honest I don't remember feeling my body land or much of what happened after ward.

I came to in my room, surrounded by darkness. My head throbbed, my stomach was turning over and over again. The room felt like it was spinning, I rolled to my side wrapping my hands around my temples and whimpered.

"Kid, trouble seems to follow you." He whispered, I leaned over my bed and dry heaved towards the floor. I didn't need to ask, I knew he saved me again. My guardian in the darkness. I leaned over and opened my nightstand drawer, pulling a bottle of white pills out. I dry swallowed two more illegal items.

"He thought I killed his brother." My own words bounced around in my skull, I pulled myself into ball clutching my head. The pain was excruciating, thoughts of death clouded my mind.

"He won't be bothering you."

"What did you do to him?" I whimpered as my body reminded me talking was not a wise idea. 

"Doesn't matter, he was a threat and that threat was eliminated." His tone was cold, I heard him move around the side of the bed. "I thought I told you to take it easy."

"I have been, what do you expect just to stop going to work?" The pain was starting ease, but I dared not to move.

"Call in sick." He knelt down in front of me.

"I don't know what you mean."

"When you don't feel good, you call into work saying you won't be there." He explained, his hand lightly brush my hair back.

"There is no such thing. You miss work you're sent to the factory, the only time you can miss work is if the doctors order you bed bound." Slowly I opened my eyes, his face was a mixture of confusion and concern.

"What has the world become?" He mumbled to himself.

"The world is ruled by people with money and power. We do what we can to survive, we find ways to cheat the system."

"How?"

"The underground. Some of us do illegal work to find ways to bring ourselves happiness, whether it's reading something other then books they allow or watching movies that are a hundred years old. It make life more tolerable." I sighed the pain was near gone, I rolled onto my back. He looked at me with sadness in his amber eyes." You want to see what I go through? You want to know how I keep from going crazy?"

"Show me." His reply was simple and I rolled off the bed, my vision swarmed and danced. I felt his hand on my elbow steadying me.

"Come with me." I grabbed a small brown leather satchel. My life line when it came to the underground. It contained more pepper spray, loose money, fictional pamphlets, and other random items to trade. 

He followed me as we left the darkened apartment. We walked down the empty hall to the rickety elevator. I pushed the call button, I had never taken anyone to the underground with me before.

Dulo's, the underground people, didn't take kindly to strangers. I had had my rear end handed to me many times before they accepted the fact that I wasn't there to bust them. The easiest way to be accepted is befriend one of these people, someone other dulo's trust. For me that was Holy Man, he preached an old book and never came topside. He was the one who gave me pepper spray after the fifth time I was jumped. I haven't seen in months, I fear the worst of him.

The elevator dinged and the doors slowly rolled open. We stepped in, the lighting low and yellow. It reeked of urine and stale alcohol, Reaper looked around the small enclosed room and took a deep breath.

"Fourteen floors? The building is only four high?"

"Four above, ten below." I looked at him and pressed the U button. "And the underground."

"Why not called it fifteen?" The elevator car started to shake as it descended.

"Originally the underground was created to be a storage area. To save items that society wouldn't need for years to come. The Dulo's and Underlings found them and criminal activity flourished." I explained, the ride was slow going.

"Dulo's, underlings, what does all of that mean?" His eyes fixated on me.

"Okay, so you have elitist, people with money and power. They have their own breaks down I'm sure but I don't know those. Then you have the lower class, which is everyone beneath them. There are Yulo's, top siders. People that work just to get by, they are straight laced and never visit the underground. Then there are Lulo's, people like me. I'm a topsider that dabbles in the underground network. Dulo's, they live and breathe the underground network. Then there are underlings, they are criminals. They will do anything for a buck, mainly to supply their habits." I watch the floor count as continued the descent down.

"How often do you visit the underground?"

"More then I care to admit." The doors pinged and slowly rolled open.

Permanent tag-

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[donttakeabreath]

The Father, the Son and the Ghost that came back

We know this story. Jason, the Joker and Bruce. A never ending carnival game in which people only get hurt

Jason's stopping it. Tonight

Or the warehouse confrontation goes.. awry

TW: mentions of death, blood, scars. Bruce isn't a great parent in this.

He had been in Gotham five months. Three weeks of recon followed by the most gruesome takeover of the Gotham underground anyone's ever seen.

It had been three years since he rose from the pit. Two and a half since he found out that Bruce had tossed him aside in favour of some new Robin. He had spent the last two years on what he liked to call his "World Tour of Violence" and what Talia preferred to call "Training". The names were extensive. Half were dead. He knew more, much more, than he would argue Bruce even knew.

He was making a difference in the alley. The crime rate had dropped significantly, children were safe and despite what the Batman may think the death rates have also deflated. The people were safer, simply put. His people were safer. They were thankful for it too, memorials cropped up in the space of weeks, small tokens of appreciation laid out on the rooftops he stalked day and night.

And yet.

He couldn't look in the mirror. The scarring was. Extensive. The pit healed but God knew it only sitched him back up. Talia told him to wear them with pride, stories woven into each one. Damian, though he wouldn't say such a word thought they were cool. The smiley face carved into his ribs on the other hand would disagree. The Joker had worked him over well, even with Bruce's touching up to prepare him for the funeral hadn't covered the J carved in block caps into his cheek.

Bruce dressed him up and locked him six foot under but God forbid he soil his morals by putting a bullet through the clown's brain. Jason as it seemed was left to rectify his father's actions.

He planned this for weeks. Annoying Black Mask into jailbreaking Joker only for Jason himself to capture Joker, leading the Batman, the favored son and the new kid to chase after him like headless chickens.

Only Bruce was coming. This he knew to be fact. Possibly because he was dramatic or perhaps he wanted to throw Bruce off he led him to exactly two blocks away from where they met. Jason's old apartment. Now it was run down and looked like utter crap but it was, well he wouldn't say home, but it was were his mother had raised him. Catherine had loved him but loved the drugs more and Willis tended to find love at the bottom of the bottle instead of in the eyes of his young son.

The Batman enters through the window. Not much had changed in the years he was dead.

Jason brandishes a gun to the Jokers head. Joker cackles; what else was he good for? He tosses a second gun to Bruce, who fumbles but catches it.

"What is this, Hood?" His father calls to him, he responds by taking off the helmet, his domino mask abandoned in his safehouse. The Joker only laughs harder, "The almighty Batman. Speechless," Jason snarled at him.

"Jason?" Bruce finally finds his footing, jaw still hanging open, "The prodigal son has returned! Better than ever don't ya think, Batsy!" The Joker smiled with far too many teeth, "Though I think he got the murderous tendencies from my side of the family."

Jason shoves him out of the chair roughly, pushing the green out of his vision

"You need to do what you should have done years ago. " Jason says angry and tired, "You need to put this animal down."

"J- Jason you know I cant," Bruce breathes out, "I cant kill"

"I'm not talking about Dent or Penguin or any of your other loons who could be reformed if your asylum wasnt just a vacation home for your murderers. I'm talking about one. Just him. Do it for the sons he killed, the friends he crippled and the thousands lying dead at his feet. Do it," Jason cocked his gun, turning off the safety, "Or I will."

Bruce hardened. "You know I can't do that"

"You never should have put another child in that costume. I should have been the last one Bruce."

"Tim wouldnt go off half cocked on a suicide mission"

"SHE BETRAYED ME!" Jason yelled, eyes and mouth full of green venom, "I WAS FIFTEEN. Bruce I was fifteen. And I wanted a mother. She sold me out. She told me it was an empty warehouse, this filth," he roughly shoved the gun into Jokers face, " Blackmailed her, decided to kill her too. You buried me beside her and blamed a child for his own death"

Batman was, for the second time this night, speechless, "I- I'm sorry I didnt save you Jason but please-" "I dont care that you didn't save me Bruce. God knows one of us would have kicked the bucket eventually. I forgive you for not making it. I dont forgive you for not killing him though," He breathed in, "I'm gonna count down from five. You kill him or you kill me."

Five

Four

Three

Two-

It happened in a blizzard of motion. Bruce through the batarang. Jason hit the floor. Joker dived for the detonator.

Boom.

He lay there, bleeding. Fire creeped towards his vision. His throat bleeding sluggishly. A large ugly gash seeped his life away from him. His second life. He vaguely saw Bruce get up, shoving timbre off himself and slinging the Joker over his shoulder, grappling out the window.

He chose the Joker. God knows he wasn't the first choice as Robin but Bruce had adopted them and surely, a younger him. A twenty minute younger him, had thought that meant something but.

He was dying. Again. How ironic that after all Bruce had pleaded with him, about never killing that he would leave his own son to rot in his childhood home. He would be seeing his parents soon. He's not wide eyed enough to admit anyone would be coming to save him or not blind enough to the blood staining his hands. He would not be seeing the pearly gates.

He could almost hear Talia, now, reassuring him like she did in the quiet hours in the morning after a nightmare.

He should have stayed in that pine box. He should have suffocated the second he awoke. He would never have had to see the grim determination on his father's face as he killed him.

[wickedbarnes]

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not | John Wick x Reader

PROMPT: Hanahaki Disease AU! Reader realizes she's in love with John but John, on the other hand, can't reciprocate the feelings because he's still in love with Helen. And so, reader begins to cough blood red rose petals...

WARNING: Major angst. Blood. Get your tissues ready.

NOTE: This is my take on the fictional disease so please don't attack me if some of the concepts of it is wrong. I just did it so there would be more impact to the story. An explanation for my take on the Hanahaki will be provided down below at the end of the oneshot to avoid any confusions. Other than that, please enjoy!

--

If there was one thing you hated doing, it was breaking promises. And you rarely did it unless it was really necessary. But you hated it when you did. And this... this was a promise you swore you would never break. But here you were, staring down at your bloody palm, examining the rose petals that stuck to your skin.

A lone tear cascaded down your cheek as you wiped the blood from your lips.

It finally got to you. The disease. The same disease that had killed your beloved Mother. And you were sure it was the same one that was going to kill you.

You vividly remembered how your Mother would gush about how beautiful love was. How magical it is and how you'd feel as if you were floating when you experienced it. And in a way, she has a point. But not everything was easy.

Because along with love comes pain. The pain of a broken heart. And as you grew up you realized that love was only beautiful when it was reciprocated. When the person you love is in love with you as well. But like your mom, you weren't so lucky.

You had no one but John now. When your Mother died of the Hanahaki Disease, you swore- vowed, rather, that you would never fall in love. But that was, until John.

The moment you saw the man, you could tell just how miserable he seemed but there was something about him that just drew you in. He charmed women without even noticing it. And so you did the unthinkable and was bold enough to go ask him what drink he wanted and that it was on you.

You worked as a bartender in the Red Circle. And when you spotted John you had no idea what type of man he was and what type of world he lives in. But even after that, you didn't care. You still stuck with him.

And you didn't even plan on doing so. You just wanted to give the man something to look forward to. Something to give him a little boost. But when chaos broke and you were almost shot by Viggo's men, John was brave enough to catch the bullet himself before the rest of them ran out thinking they had finally killed the Baba Yaga.

That night, you couldn't just leave him there dying. You had insisted he goes to the hospital but he told you not to and instructed you to take him to the Continental. The hotel where you didn't even know housed assassins like him. You didn't know why but you had stayed with him the whole while he was being patched up despite the fact he kept telling you to leave because it would be dangerous.

But the stubborn person you are, you decided to stay. And the rest was history from there.

You felt it creep up on you. You could tell because you felt the same itch in your throat that didn't seem to go away ever since your feelings for John got stronger. But the moment you realized you were in love with him, fate had finally decided to give you a sign that the feelings you have for the man just wasn't mutual.

And in a way, you kind of understood why. The wedding band on John's finger was proof of that. It was the proof of his undying love for his late wife, Helen. Who were you to compete with that?

The whole situation caused you to let a laugh under your breath. How ironic. John Wick never intends on hurting you. And yet here he was, being the reason why you're ill today.

---

"Y/N, you need to rest, you've been coughing all day and you don't look too good. I can handle it from here." John tried to approach you but you instinctively moved away from him and sat down on the couch yourself. Your reaction took him aback but he quickly regained his composure and sat down next to you but made sure to give you some distance.

You were pretty sure the handkerchief you were coughing into was full of blood by now and you prayed no petal would fall off or it would only worry John even more. You suspected he knows about the disease as well.

Day by day, it was getting hard for you to breathe. You knew the plant inside your lungs was growing and every night you had battled and hoped it wouldn't be your last night. Even sleeping had come to terrify you. You were afraid you wouldn't wake up anymore.

"Y/N, are you alright? You're not telling me what's going on, I have to know so I can take care of you." John would say, concern written all over his face and your heart ached at the sight because you knew he only meant that as a friend.

"I'm fine, John, I'll be okay I told you it's just allergies." You sighed and stood up to get a glass of water when you felt the familiar itch on your throat creeping up again. But the moment you took a step forward, you leaned forward and began to heave as you wretched out blood along with rose petals on John's floor.

You somehow felt embarrassed but your body fell on the floor as you kept throwing up blood. John was almost sure he would've had a heart attack with what he saw. He immediately went over to you and rubbed your back, panic beginning to creep up in his body.

This was like when Helen was ill.

When you were finished throwing up, you opened your mouth to apologize but you found yourself going limp and passing out in John's arms.

John looked at the blood and rose petals that were smeared all over his floor. The realization hit him like a truck as his face began to go pale. He looked down at your unconscious body in horror.

"Y/N, what the hell..."

---

John couldn't even fathom looking at you like this. Pale and sickly looking. He hadn't noticed just how much you had lost weight and how horrible the bags under your eyes looked. You were always with him but he was too caught up in work that he barely had time to see how his friend was doing.

He knew about the Hanahaki disease. John remembered how someone in Ruska Roma died because of it. But he never expected you to get it.

The assassin pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back against the uncomfortable plastic chair. Who the hell were you in love with? You had never mentioned anyone from work that caught your eye. Nor did you introduce anyone to John. The idea of someone being the root of all this caused him to clench his fists until his knuckles turned white.

Whoever it was that didn't love you back, John was sure he was going to get a piece of his damn mind.

John's thoughts were cut off when the doctor came in and greeted him with a polite smile. When he looked at Y/N's records, the doctor let out a sigh and John knew this wasn't a good sign.

"Does she have family?" The doctor, Dr. Mercer had asked to which John responded by shaking his head no.

"I'm the only one she has now." Dr. Mercer nodded.

"Mr. Wick, I'm gonna be honest. Miss Y/L/N is in critical condition. The amount of blood that she threw up was very alarming. I'm sure you're aware of the Hanahaki Disease?" John nodded solemnly at the question and never took his eyes off you.

"Well, the plant inside her lungs is growing more and more. And it won't be long until it fully suffocates her. Looking at her x-rays right here, you can see that the plant is almost corrupting her lungs fully." Dr. Mercer showed your x-ray scan to John to which he took carefully and it only made the situation even real.

Was he going to lose another important person in his life? He already lost Helen and Daisy. He only has Dog now. Could he really lose you, too?

"Is there a cure to this?"

"There is. But... both of them aren't as easy as they sound." John looked up at the doctor with a confused look causing Dr. Mercer to sigh.

"In order to cure the patient, the person she's in love with has to love her back. And I don't mean platonic love. I mean, real genuine love. If that doesn't work, then we can surgically remove the root of the plant from her lungs."

John perked up at the mention of surgical removal of the plant. Obviously, whoever this person is didn't love you enough to even cure you. John felt that option two was the only logical option left. Or else, you'd die.

"I think I'd like the plant to be surgically removed from her."

"Mr. Wick, I think the patient has to decide for that. Because even though it could cure her, it would erase everything she felt and remembered about the person. Once the operation is done and successful, that person never existed for her. And unfortunately, Y/N here would be stripped away of the ability to experience romantic love. The removal of the root will cause that as well."

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. Y/N won't experience romantic love anymore? He looked at your frail body and put a hand over his face. He'd heard Dr. Mercer excuse himself but all John could think of was how he was going to save you.

He doesn't want you to live up your life not knowing how it feels to be in love and be loved by the person you're in love with. But if you don't do anything about this, you'd be six feet underground and time was slowly running out.

John's thoughts abruptly stopped when he noticed you waking up from a deep sleep. You had been out of it for about fourteen hours.

You fluttered your eyes open and took in your surroundings. Your throat felt really dry and you could use a tall drink of water. Looking around, your eyes soon fell on John who stood up from his chair and smiled softly down at you.

Your heart fluttered at how beautiful he is. You almost mistook him for an angel.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked softly and brushed away some of your hair away from your face. His touch sent shivers down your spine and in a way, it hurt for him to be here. He was so gentle and patient. Was he like that with Helen? Or was he even more loving when it came to her?

"Like death." You laughed softly as you averted your eyes to the glass of water that was sitting on the table beside your bed, "Can I get a drink, please?"

John immediately took the glass of water and helped you sit up from your bed so you could drink. You were dehydrated from the amount of blood you just threw up hours ago. John gently patted your head when he saw that you drank all of the water from the glass.

"Good girl." He'd praise you and your heart swelled at it but it made you cough a bit.

John sat back down on the plastic chair but brought it closer by your bed as he looked at you in the eye.

"Y/N, who did this to you?" He asked. It took you about a minute to figure out what he was on about. And then you remembered the disease. Your situation probably took a turn for the worse and you assumed what had happened earlier almost scared John to death.

"Y/N." John sighed. "You're one of my most trusted friend. The only friend I probably trust with my whole life, really. But you need to tell me what the fuck is going on. You're dying, honey, and someone is the cause of all this and it's frustrating that I don't know who it is."

It's you, you wanted to say but the words didn't come out the way you wanted them to. You didn't want to see the look on John's face when you laid out the truth. Even now, on the verge of death, you were afraid of what he'd think. You knew he has a lot on his plate and he's just getting the chance to finally grieve for Helen. You didn't want nor had the heart to tell him that he's the reason why you're dying.

"It's no one, John, he-" You pursed your lips and let out a breath as you looked down at your hands that were slightly stained with your own blood, "He went away he- he loves someone else and that's all you need to know."

John nodded and although he was frustrated you didn't tell him everything, you knew it was just because you didn't wanna dive back into the fact that this person didn't reciprocate the feelings you felt. So he understood.

"Y/N, Dr. Mercer gave me two options so you could be cured and he-"

"John, I can't be cured, he doesn't love me." You said firmly and it felt so different saying it in front of him like this when he has no idea it was him all along that you were in love with.

"I know, darling, I know." He grabbed your hand comfortingly and you almost hated him for acting like this when all along you knew it was just platonic. You were just a friend to him. Nothing more and nothing less.

"But then he told me about option two. Option two is that you can get the plant surgically removed from your lungs." You perked up at hearing this.

You never knew it could get surgically removed. Your mother never told you. So why didn't she do it?

"W-What? What do you mean I can get it surgically removed?" You asked as tears began to fill your eyes but John was patient enough to talk you through it.

"You can, it's possible. But it's not that easy, Y/N." He let out another sigh before looking up at your tear filled eyes, "When the operation is successful, all the memories you have of that person will be gone. Including your feelings for him. It was like he never existed. Apart from that, once the plant is removed from your body, you ability to experience romantic love wouldn't be there anymore."

Tears cascaded down your cheeks. Not because you wouldn't be able to fall in love again. But because the thought of forgetting John scared you so much. Were you going to remember him again? Can he reintroduce himself again to you? Or should you not go through with option two?

At that moment, you finally realized why your mother never had the plant inside her get removed. It was far more painful than anything else.

---

"I'm sorry for your loss, Jonathan." Winston would say as he poured a drink for the assassin and John just nodded at him in thanks.

"Some things are beyond our control." John replied as he took a big gulp of his drink. He needed it right now after all.

He just came back from the hospital and that was the first time in a while John had felt so overwhelmed. The hatred he had for himself just increased a ton.

You decided to go through with the operation after giving it a deep thought for a the whole day. John was happy. Although you weren't able to experience romantic love anymore, he assured you he'd be by your side every step of the way. Just like you had been for him.

But what came next almost made him collapse down to his knees.

Aurelio decided to pay you a little visit when your operation was done. He had found out about what had happened from John and you knew the man well enough that he could give you discounts whenever your car had problems.

When it was time for visitors, John felt ecstatic. You were alive. He wasn't losing someone important from him again. When they got inside the room, you had already woken up and had a nurse slowly help you sit up from your bed but the moment your eyes fell on John, he noticed the slight confusion written on your face.

"Y/N, God, I'm so happy the operation was successful." John smiled and tucked a piece of your hair and he noticed how your body stilled from the touch as you looked up at him with wide eyes.

Thhe reaction was weird but John brushed it off and thought that maybe, it was a side effect from the pain killers you'd been taking.

"Aurelio's here and brought you some stuff. You like those cookies from the bakery near his shop, right?" You found yourself nodding slowly at the man's question even though you had no idea who he is.

Who was he? And how does he know your name? How did he know you liked those chocolate chip cookies from that bakery near Aurelio's shop? It was starting to freak you out.

John took notice of your reaction and the nurse excused herself when she was finished checking your vitals. John put a finger underneath your chin to make you look up at him and in your eyes, he saw fear.

You never looked at him like that. Never. Not even once.

"Y/N, darling, what's wrong? Did I do something, why are you-"

"Who are you?" You asked, cutting him off and John looked at Aurelio to see if what he heard was right.

Aurelio looked at him and then back at you with shock written on his face.

"What? Y/N, it's me, John. Your friend, your best friend." John replied but you had no recollection of the man in front of you so you shook your head slowly.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so confused I don't know who you are." You apologized shyly and looked at Aurelio. "Aurelio, is he a friend of yours? I really don't remember him, I don't wanna seem so rude."

John stood there in his spot, completely frozen. You remember Aurelio but you had forgotten him. That could only mean one thing...

"Come on, Y/N, stop fooling around this isn't funny. Tell me you're just joking and you know who I am." John's voice was laced with desperation now and you took notice of how his eyes were starting to fill with tears and you had a sense he hated crying in front of people.

Why did you feel so guilty? As if you'd done something wrong?

You looked up at the man apologetically and shook your head at him. "I'm so sorry, John, I really don't know who you are. I believe I just met you. Aurelio would have introduced you to me back then but... I don't remember that he has."

John couldn't take it. Everything was so overwhelming. When he gruffly excused himself you watched as he hurriedly made his way out of your room and Aurelio followed soon after probably to chase after him.

You had no idea of who he was but you could never forget how heartbroken he seemed when he looked at you.

Did you know him before?

John, on the other hand, needed to get out of there and he ignored Aurelio's calls as he got into his car and sped down the road. He felt guilty for leaving you there all alone, probably so confused as to why you were there in the first place but he just needed to have his space.

And so here he was, sharing a drink with Winston.

"You weren't entirely fair with her as well, Jonathan. You couldn't blame her if she hadn't told you."

"I was grieving for my wife." John stated to which Winston replied with a hum.

"But you could've showed her you felt the same way. Maybe told her. Hanahaki disease is a complicated kind of illness. Y/N believed you were still in love with Helen. And maybe you still are. That's why she was on the verge of dying that day. But it could all have been cured if you two had just acted on your feelings right away. A lot of people die from that, you know."

John stayed silent and poured himself another drink.

He had moved on from Helen a year after the whole incident with Viggo and his son. If Helen was alive, she would've wanted John to live his life fully and that was the only way he could honor her. And he did, and that was thanks to you.

You were like a breath of fresh air and John was scared he might ruin the peace that you had in your life. And he kind of did in a way. But you were too stubborn to leave until he just couldn't handle the thought of you leaving.

Like you, it crept up on John and the familiar itch on his throat, as if he was about to cough kept popping out of nowhere. Especially when you were near him. And for a moment, he didn't want to believe he caught it. He couldn't be possibly catching feelings for you it was a dangerous game to play.

John believed everything he touched turns to ash and he wasn't turning you into one. You deserved far more better than that. And it'd be impossible for you to feel the same way about him, he's too damaged to be loved at this point. But it's true when they say that you can't help who you fall in love.

But today, today was different than the others. John placed the glass down and leaned back on his chair and soon leaned forward when he began to cough and cough and cough.

Winston looked at John with an unreadable expression on his face. As if he knew it was coming. Somehow, he felt bad for the man. He had lost his wife and the dog she gave to him. And in a way he lost you even though you were still perfectly alive.

And now the disease had caught up to him.

His hunch was right when he saw the blood on John's palm. John stared down at it and noticed that there were petals of your favorite flower sticking onto his hand along with his own blood.

The assassin stayed silent as he grabbed his handkerchief from his coat and wiped the bloody residue off his skin.

Winston poured the man another drink but this time, he didn't pour himself some. He knew John needed it more than he did.

"Are you going to remove it or not?"

John looked at Winston but the manager took it upon himself to get up from the chair and leave Jonathan alone in the rooftop to decide.

This was all a bad case of wrong timing and lack of courage, obviously. And John leaned back against the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a tear slip down his cheek.

Was he ready to go? Or will he risk forgetting about you like you did to him?

John realized just how difficult this all was. He realized now that it hurt to have you forget about him completely. Like he was dead to you. But knowing you, you would've made the decision just so you could live for John's sake. He knew you decided to live even though it would be hard on the both of you.

Because in your mind, you probably chose to live and see John again even though you had forgotten about him rather than die and let him live this world all alone without you.

But would it be the same for John? Could he really forget about you? Or was it time for him to go and let you be free?

Either way, as he began to cough once again, he knew that he needed to think fast and decide.

Time is gold and he's slowly running out of that.

---

A/N: I know in some stories this is not how the Hanahaki disease works but this is my take on it. Reader almost died because she believed that John would never love her the way she did. When all along, John was slowly developing feelings for her and while he did, he also didn't believe she'd have feelings for him because he believes he's too damaged to be loved. To put it shortly, my understanding of the Hanahaki is that as long as the protagonist believes the enamoured doesn't love them back, they'll slowly die. But as long as the enamoured confesses to the protagonist, they'll be cured of the disease. And if that doesn't work, the plant can be surgically removed.

The disease caught up to John and the reader because they didn't act upon their feelings and confessed to each other right away. They both believed everything was platonic between them. As a result, they kept it to themselves until it slowly killed them. In other words, this is all a bad case of wrong timing and lack of courage to say what they really wanted to say to each other.