#don't you hate it when you forget your pride in the middle of battle?

[ficswithtacotuesday]

Never forget. Based on the tiktok below + bonus doodle

(If link doesn't work, a Texan is making sure he has everything before leaving his house only to realize he forgot about the Alamo)

[anonymityisfunwriter]

There Is No Coming Back From This - Chapter 1

Characters: Stark!Reader, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Summary: "It's her time, Tony. And I hate that as much as you do, but there's some things you can't fix. There is no coming back from this."

AN: So this story is just a smidge old, but I'm just now getting to update and crosspost it. Hope you enjoy!

Steve catches Tony as he rushes back to his lab, a sleek, gunmetal case in his hand. "Tony."

"Tony," he calls again.

Tony barely acknowledges Steve. "I'm busy, Rogers."

"What's in the case, Tony?" Steve follows right on Tony's heels, watching as Tony storms through the door of his lab. Steve flings the door open to reveal a frantic Tony rummaging through his drawers. "Don't do this, Tony. Don't do whatever it is you're about to do. This isn't what she would want."

Tony whips around to his former friend. "You don't get to tell me what she would want - I'm her father. I need to protect her. I can - I can protect her from this."

Steve looks on with remorse, offering only a slight shake of his head. "It's her time, Tony. She's tired. She wants to rest."

"Don't give me that," Tony snaps, chucking the wrench in his hand. "I can fix this!"

"It's her time, Tony. And I hate that as much as you do, but there's some things you can't fix."

--

Tony Stark worked his entire life keeping you from the public eye - practically an impossible feat as a Stark, the sole heir to the Stark empire and fortune.

He worked tirelessly to protect you from the world. To protect you from his own mistakes. To make sure you'd never pay for his sins.

And while he was off fighting those highly publicized battles with the Avengers, you fought your own quiet, personal batter. Leukemia. First as a child and later many years spent in remission. And for the first time in his life, Tony Stark had to grapple with something he couldn't protect you from. He swallowed the most bitter pill, day in and out, waiting helplessly with bated breath. 

It was in the middle of his feud with Steve that Tony got the call. He wasn't sure that he'd ever forgive himself for the events of that day. 

The first missed call came from Pepper, right in the middle of a very intense argument with Steve and Bucky in Siberia. He declined the call and told FRIDAY to let Pepper know he was busy. 

The second call was from Pepper again. FRIDAY said it was urgent. To be fair, it didn't really seem like there was anything more important than finding out Steve lied about his parent's death. 

The third and fourth time, both from Pepper and Happy, he was too busy searching for vengeance to think straight. 

Five calls later, he was on the ground, nursing both a wounded pride and actual wounds. That final call, Pepper told FRIDAY not just to relay the urgency, but to tell Tony it was about you. 

He couldn't remember anything except a faint ringing in his ears and dread sitting in the pit of his stomach. It was a whirlwind until he sat in your hospital room, at your bedside. 

You didn't remember it like that. You remembered him moving Heaven and Earth to make it back to you. You would never forget how he dropped everything and rushed to your side. There was nothing that mattered more than your father holding your hand as the doctors handed you your bleak prognosis, handed you your death sentence. 

Anger and despair flashed in his eyes when the doctor spoke. He pulled you out of the hospital that same day, putting you under his own care. He declared that same day, you would live. He would fix this. 

He put all his focus into fixing you. There was nothing else that held the attention of Tony Stark. Nothing seemed quite as important as keeping you alive. Between him, Bruce, and Dr. Cho, there was someone constantly working on keeping you alive. 

No one could deny that it was looking bad. The doctors said months, and the months had come and gone. 

Tony could barely look at you without bawling. Not in front of you, of course. He'd rush out of the room, storm over to his lab. Sometimes, he'd throw things. Other times, he would fall into his chair and shed silent tears. 

While no one dared utter the words to you, you knew it had gone from bleak to practically hopeless. 

You knew you were really on your last days when you saw Bruce watching you, holding your hand while you slept. 

To you, Bruce was something of a mentor, a second father even. Though you inherited all of the infamous Stark genius, you'd stopped attending school during your first battle with cancer. Tony often joked that there were no better teachers than two of the greatest scientists in the world. During that first fight, Bruce was the one who would wheel you into the lab so you could learn and watch as he worked. 

There was not a single doubt in your mind that you were hanging on by a thread when you saw Bruce's glassy eyes watching you drift in and out of consciousness. 

"Please don't cry, Bruce," you whisper, speaking through your oxygen mask. 

"I'm not crying," he assures you, wiping the corner of his eyes. "Just allergies."

"I've had a good life," you meekly offer, lifting up your oxygen mask. "Not everyone gets Bruce Banner and Tony Stark to homeschool them."

"It - it was an honor." He stops speaking for a moment as his voice breaks on his last word. "I just - I want you to know that you've always been like a daughter to me."

You know how hard it is for Bruce to say that, that the vulnerability isn't something that he would normally offer unless he felt like he had to. "Bruce, are you telling me that I have two dads?"

He huffs out a chuckle, shaking his head at you, "That infallible sense of humor. It's admirable."

"Bruce?" His gaze meets yours. "Don't let my dad tear himself apart - after, I mean. It's not anyone's fault. Yours or his. Can you - just make sure he knows that."

"Don't talk like that. We can still-"

"Bruce." You stop him from continuing the same unfounded hope they held onto for all these months. You shake your head, unshed tears shining in your eyes as you picture Tony after the inevitable happens. "It's okay. We both know what's gonna happen and it's - it's okay. I'll be okay. Just take care of him, okay?"

The knot in Bruce's throat is so tight he just shakily exhales and nods. 

The final sign that things aren't going well: Steve Rogers is allowed to step foot back on the Avengers Compound. Though allowed might be too generous of a word. You're not sure if it's the medication, your fluctuating state of consciousness, or simply everyone's unwillingness to tell you anything, but he's back. 

And while no one would say it, you all know he's come to say goodbye.

Steve can barely bring himself to say a word to you. 

The last time he saw you, you were fine, you were perfectly healthy. He didn't even know you were sick again until he heard it from the news, which only offered vague details mostly revolving around Tony pulling out of events and almost entirely retreating from the public eye. 

He knew the secrecy and vague details were for a reason - mostly because of Tony's overprotectiveness. He'd only heard the story from Pepper, but according to her, Tony saw one article implying that he deserved what happened to you, that somehow you were paying for his karmic debts. One nasty story was all it took. The very next day, he bought the newspaper and shut them down, effectively sending a message to all media outlets that you were completely and totally off limits. 

The only thing that Steve heard was that your health was once again failing and Tony was taking personal time in the midst of the Accords drama to support you. 

And he wasn't here for you. And he’s not quite sure how he’ll ever forgive himself for that.

Against all advice and reason, he risks it all to be there for you - one last time. 

He mostly sits with you, constantly asking if you need anything or if there's anything he can do for you. With most of your time spent asleep, Steve finds himself whispering apologies over and over while he strokes your hair and holds your hand. 

And Peter, the newest member of the team, well, he dials back on his Spiderman antics and heroics. At school, at home, anywhere he can't be by your side, he's anxious, dread swimming in his veins, worried that any minute he's going to get that call. That dreaded call. He's thought about it before. He's not sure who the call will come from, his Aunt May, Tony, Happy even. He's not quite sure. He's just always worried. So worried that every time his phone rings, he flinches in fear. 

After school, he's only suited up for an hour or two at most before he rushes down to the Compound. No one believed him when he first said he met Tony Stark's daughter through his internship, let alone when you started dating. 

Every day, he took it upon himself to keep you entertained. Sometimes, he'd just talk, about anything, about everything, his friends, his aunt, his school, his hero antics. You liked listening to his seemingly endless stories. He did everything and anything he could to keep you smiling. 

And when it looks like it's going to be your last night on the Earth, he arrives to the Compound like he would any other day, prepared to take your mind off the heaviness of it all.

He bursts down the hallway, barely pulling off his Spiderman suit as he barrels toward your open door, "You will never guess what I found." He falters when he sees Tony standing in the doorway, blocking you from his sight. "Mr. Stark?"

"Hey, kid."

Panic bubbles up inside him. Maybe it wouldn't be a call. Maybe it would be exactly like this. "Is everything - is she-?

"She's fine," Tony quickly assures. It's not really what he means. You weren't fine. Not in the slightest. "She's been in and out all day."

"What happened?"

"An infection. She's had a fever all day."

Peter's voice breaks as he descends into despair. "But she'll - she's gonna be okay, right?"

Tony rests a hand on Peter's shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze, "She's just not strong enough to fight it off."

Peter looks up at him with desperate hope shining in his pleading eyes. "But you're gonna try, right? You're gonna try to fight it off?"

The brokenness of Peter's voice steels Tony's resolve. Not just for him. For Peter. For Bruce. For Pepper. For Steve. They couldn't lose you. "Yeah, kid, I'm going to try."

Peter stays by your side, holding your hand until the bitter end. 

Your fever is so high that you find it hard to keep your eyes open. Despite all best efforts, no one is able to break it and it shows no signs of wavering. 

And that's when Steve finds out Tony's plan. Or more accurately, when the guilt eating Bruce alive forces him to tell Steve the truth. When all hope is lost, Steve sees just how desperate Tony is to save you. 

After all, that's what people mean when they say desperate times call for desperate measures. 

But not even Steve could have predicted just how far Tony would be willing to go. 

"What?" Steve demands.

"He's been working on it, Steve. I didn't - no one thought he'd actually do it."

"And what exactly is it?"

"He got the idea when you came back," Bruce explains. "He remembered your files, how sick you were, how you were better afterwards. He took the Teseract, Steve, he was talking about using that as his radiation source. I think he's really going to do this."

"Do what?" Steve grits out. 

"He's going to dose her with the serum. An untested super solider serum. He thought it would buy him time - even - even if it didn't fix her, it would give him time. I told him there were boundaries even science shouldn't cross, but he won't listen. Not to me. Not to Pepper. But you have to try, I promised the kid I wouldn't let him fall apart."

"Clearly he's already fallen apart if he's actually considering doing this."

"I want to save her as much as he does, but this isn't how she would want to be saved. I think we both know that."

"Where is he?"

"He went to find Pepper. Then he was going to her room."

Tony clenches his jaw and walks into your room. You're asleep and Peter's asleep with his head resting on your lap. He'd be the first to admit that he didn't like this at first, but he has to give credit to Peter for sticking with you. You genuinely seemed happier with him. Your eyes slowly wake to see your father on the verge of tears. You reach out, giving his hand a weak squeeze. "It's okay, Dad. I've had a good life."

One hand hold your burning hand, the other rubs his clenched jaw. He nods as you drift back out of consciousness. The moment you do, he bristles out of the room. He's content to know he's not leaving you alone. 

Steve catches Tony as he rushes back to his lab, a sleek, gunmetal case in his hand. "Tony."

"Tony," he calls again.

Tony barely acknowledges Steve. "I'm busy, Rogers."

"What's in the case, Tony?" Steve follows right on Tony's heels, watching as Tony storms through the door of his lab. Steve flings the door open to reveal a frantic Tony rummaging through his drawers. "Don't do this, Tony. Don't do whatever it is you're about to do. This isn't what she would want."

Tony whips around to his former friend. "You don't get to tell me what she would want - I'm her father. I need to protect her. I can - I can protect her from this."

Steve looks on with remorse, offering only a slight shake of his head. "It's her time, Tony. She's tired. She wants to rest."

"Don't give me that," Tony snaps, chucking the wrench in his hand. "I can fix this!"

"It's her time, Tony. And I hate that as much as you do, but there's some things you can't fix."

"She calls you Uncle Steve," Tony quietly reminds him, standing before Steve with a white knuckle grip on the case and a vial of that familiar blue serum in his hand. “She was absolutely devastated when you all left.”

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?” Tony rhetorically asks. “Remind you that you've known my daughter since she was 5. Remind you that to her, you were family. And now you're okay with letting her die?"

"I'm not okay with it," Steve barks. "I'm not okay with it. I love that kid, so stop trying to guilt me into thinking that any of this is okay because it's not. You're playing with things that shouldn't be played with, Tony. There's no coming back from this."

"A little hypocritical coming from a 100 year old man, don't you think?" Steve is about to respond, but Tony cuts him off again, speaking with tears burning in his eyes. "In fact, everyone here is living on borrowed time, why can't she? Why does she have to be the one to go? We've all escaped death, plenty of times. Why does she have to die at 17 years old?"

Steve softly exhales, "Tony..."

"She's 17, Rogers. 17 years! That's all she's had. 17 years," he repeats, his voice breaking. "She hasn't even had a chance to live yet. She hasn't - she hasn't done anything wrong. She'll never turn 18. She'll never get to walk down the aisle. She'll never have a family. She'll never get to live her own life. You and me? We've both got blood on our hands. We've made mistakes. We can say we've lived. She can't. She didn't even get a chance and you don't want me to even try to save her?"

"This isn't how you save someone."

"She's just a kid, Steve," Tony whispers, clenching the vial in his hand. "I have to, Cap. Sorry."

When Tony reenters your room, Peter's still gently snoring on your lap and you're sleeping. He can tell it's not a restful sleep, you're still sweating profusely, your hair is clinging to your forehead and your head lolls back and forth. Your breathing sounds so labored that it's downright painful. With another wave of determination, he sets everything up and pushes some more pain medication.

“Mr. Stark, is everything okay?” Peter drowsily asks, lifting his head slightly.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine," Tony says, avoiding actually answering Peter's question. "Why don’t you take a nap in the guest room next door? I’ll stay with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Alright,” Peter nods, reluctantly leaving the room. 

Tony sighs again, telling himself that he's giving you more time, more life. All he needed was more time. All you need was more life. 

Steve, Bruce, even Pepper, they're all wrong. This is the right thing to do. He's sure of it. 

He glances back at the locked door, keeping everyone and anyone out, glances at the blue vial in his hand, and then at you. He can't let this happen to you, so he pushes the syringe. 

When you open your eyes hours later, you're thrown for a loop. You're not quite sure how you're still here. You were sure that you were a goner. It certainly doesn't feel that way anymore. Your eyes flicker to Tony as he stands watching your every movement. "Dad?"

He refuses to meet your eye, and you immediately know something is wrong. Even more so when he doesn't utter a word, because if there's anything you've learned in your life, it's that your father always has something to say. "Dad?"

"I'm sorry." He reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. "I couldn't - I couldn't let you die."

"Dad? What did you do?"

He embraces you, whispering, "I'm sorry."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist 'There Is No Coming Back From This' Chapter List

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid

[v1b3ss]

𝔸𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞! ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕥𝕒𝕤

Fluff, crack, the Arbiter and Rtas being childish, sleep deprived reader, reader doesn't talk much, possible ooc??

✧|| Request!

"Your time with the human is done. Relinquish it to me and I won't call upon my battalion for your inability to honor deals."

The Arbiter's gaze narrowed as Rtas accused him of not holding up his end of the deal. He held you closer against his armored body, which wasn't exactly comfortable, but it's the thought that counts.

"You are the dishonorable one. You spent 325 seconds more with the human than I did. I am evening the playing field and amending our deal for your mistakes," he rebutted, steadfast in his objective to make things even.

You, on the other hand, were less thrilled about this entire ordeal. While it was nice having two absurdly strong, powerful, and influential space creatures squabble over you, they sounded like a bunch of old politicians. You wondered if this was how the founding fathers sounded when the constitution was made.

While the Arbiter and Rtas were arguing, speaking more and more Sangheili (which you most definitely did not speak other than "WORT WORT WORT"). As they debated who was less honorable, you wriggled out from under the Arbiter's arms. Must've been nice to so quickly relieve yourself of back pain. I'm still suffering.

The two were loud enough that you could walk away calmly and not worry about them hearing your footsteps as you slink off without them noticing. Speaking of not noticing, you wondered how the Arbiter didn't notice how you had squirmed out of his grasp. Perhaps it was the lingering warmth of your body that kept him calm and unrealized of your absence. Well- as calm as he can be whilst in yet another predicament with Rtas.

------------LATER-------------

"HUMAN!!"

You awoke from your slumber with a jump, eyes blown wide as you frantically searched around for the abrupt noise. The doors of your barracks were burst open with both Sanghili standing there looking rather panicked. Once they saw you, however, they both visibly relaxed. Then, in an almost comical manner, they looked at each other, blinked, and then both dashed forwards in an attempt to get to you first.

Rtas was faster, scooping you up and holding you in the air with a triumphant huff. "Aha! The human is mine," he declared with pride.

The Arbiter was quick to grab Rtas' hand and pry it off of you, grabbing you for himself. "You dare to lay claim to the human who so clearly prefers my presence? Insolent fool!"

You let out an irritated sigh and thought to yourself, 'If these two idiots don't kill me with their stupidity, I'll have to do it mysel-' However, in the middle of your thought, you were ungracefully dropped onto the floor with an audible thud.

Looking up at the two massive beasts, you noticed that they were, once again, arguing about who had dropped you and who should face the punishment.

'God, I hate these two...' you thought to yourself. They were childish, truly. Two feared Sangheili fighting over a human they had captured in battle a few months ago. It was amusing, yes, but inconvenient when it came to your sleep schedule.

You stood up and brushed yourself off before walking right in between the two squabbling aliens, gently pushing them out of the way and making a beeline to your bed. You plopped down with a sigh and pulled the covers over yourself, turning so that your back was facing the two now quiet Sangheili.

Once the two saw just how visibly exhausted you were, they had become silent, just staring at you. Rtas crossed his arms and quietly said, "I often forget the fragility of humans. Specifically those not on par with the Demon."

The Arbiter sighed and begrudgingly replied, "As much as it pains me to do so, I agree. It seems the human has been worn out. Not uncommon for Earthlings."

Rtas nodded and they both fell silent once more.

After you had fallen asleep under the watchful gaze of the two, the Arbiter spoke up once again in a hushed tone. "Let the human rest. We shall settle this in the morning."

With a reluctant sigh, Rtas responded. "Indeed. Let us depart."

You briefly heard the closing of the barracks door as you turned over in your bed, having woken up at the sound of voices again, but quickly fell back into a peaceful slumber for the first time in two months.

𓋼𓍊 Hello everyone! Thank you for reading and I apologize for this taking so long. This was a request from @jiren123456, so thank you for requesting! Once again, I apologize for my inactivity, but I'm back now. Have a marvelous day darlings!

-Vibes🪐

[luvlyrv]

Duel | Seulgi x F!Reader | Knight!AU

Request: Okay so I have a request 👀 you don’t have to write it if you want want to, but the idea came to my head and I thought why not request it from one of my favourite writers! 🥺

SO, knight!seulgi. Or basically Seulgi with a sword and being bad ass 🥴 maybe a small bit of enemies to lovers, who knows? But just Seulgi. With a sword. 😳🥵

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: i hope you like it! i'm not big on action scenes so they were kind of rushed, sorry :( also sorry that it took so long my dear!! hope you're doing well <3

Date: 4/11/21

You uncomfortably roll your shoulders back, a phantom pain gradually enveloping your body. Somehow the mere sight of Seulgi was enough to send shudders down your spine as your body recounts the sensations of the many fights you've had with her. Maybe defeat has already etched itself into your muscle memory.

You let out a quiet breath as you observe her sparring session with a fellow damoiseau, a knight-in-training. Your mind feels a bit torn by the sight in front of you. On one hand you are entranced by the fluid motions and contortions that Seulgi managed to make her body do. On the other hand you struggle to not make an obviously unsettled face. Your mood sours at the disappointment you feel when reminded of the fact that despite how much you try to observe and study her, you have never bested her in a duel.

Besting the people around you had always come easy. You've enjoyed the pain of your training, knowing that it would be proven a worthy investment of your time when you see a pitiful body laying on the floor in front of you. When you get to see the face of defeat, hear the admittance of it. For all you know you are the perfect warrior. A noble knight worthy to serve the monarch.

You're better than everyone. You know it. Except for her.

What was it? What did you she have that you didn't? Every time she bested you in a duel it dealt a bastardly blow to your ego. The words 'second best' would make your eye want to twitch. For all your strength and endurance, your familiarity with the motions of battle, Seulgi just seemed to understand it more.

You recount the many times your body would strain itself after being dealt with many sharp thwacks. The throbbing pains from falling and rolling, again and again. The sense of hope and excitement as you pushed yourself to take on a stance and seemingly deal a final blow, only for Seulgi to easily and gracefully step away, just to kick you back to the ground.

You hate her. You hate the weaklings underneath you too. You swear you can hear them snicker when you lose to her, that treacherous woman.

You stop your thoughts when you suddenly hear the booming voice of your master calling for you. Your grip strengthens around your training sword as you slowly make way towards Seulgi. It's time for the two of you to repeat the process. This time though, you are determined to win. Certain of it. Seulgi, the best apprentice in your regiment, would not longer make a mockery of you.

Your jaw hurts as clench, barely containing your anger. You try to calm down and refocus on the situation at hand. You look at Seulgi as she stands in her own battle-ready stance in front of you. You wonder how her blows deal so much power when her frame looks so delicate.

Focusing on calming down your breathing, you slowly advance forward. Your opponent does the same and soon enough you're circling around each other. It's the same story again. The same beginnings.

You want to end things quickly and dive in for the first blow. One blow should be all you need, you think to yourself. You force yourself to go as quickly as possible, everything around you a blur except for your target herself. All of a sudden though, she disappears and suddenly you feel your training sword facing resistance, threatening to escape your grasp.

You grunt in frustration and reorient yourself to find Seulgi. You spot her and balance yourself waiting for another opening. She is always on the defensive it seems, but you are never one to wait. As the seconds go by you deem it the right time to go for a slash. It feels as if your body is moving through molasses as you watch Seulgi glide out of your weapon's way in horror. You see her sword and a painful thwack is given.

It's the same story again. The same middle.

You repeat and repeat these motions. You going in for a hit only to be countered. Sometimes you'd get one in, but like you your opponent is hardy and gets back up. After a brutal pummeling you must resign yourself to defeat, as much as your heart hates it. The same ending as always.

This time though you can't seem to hold your tongue back.

You storm up closer to Seulgi and roughly hold onto the collar of her training attire. "What the hell is it? What's your secret?" You shake the woman a bit until her hands come up to your wrist. She pushes them down and you decide to let go. "Rematch tonight. I'll prove my worth." The words come out viciously but quietly. They were a promise both to her and yourself.

The crowd of spectators around you stay quiet after your outburst, and Seulgi doesn't say anything either. Not bothering to look at anyone's faces you leave the grounds to change clothes. They stuck to you with sweat and the gritty dirt that covered it bothered you

You can't think much for the rest of the day. The thoughts of your failure prevents you from enjoying training or beating other people. Soon enough you find yourself looking at a bowl of measly soup and bread in the mess hall all by yourself.

The warm soup makes you feel marginally better, but you don't pay much attention to it. Instead you take in your surroundings. This scenario is routine. You sit by yourself somewhere among the crowds of people interacting and enjoying their meal together. Even if people were nearby you simply would not speak. Why waste your breath on them?

In contrast to you though, you notice how hordes of people flock around the number one apprentice. Vying for her attention. Are you jealous? You can't tell. You just wonder if people would act that way towards you if you were the best.

Soon enough you hear the familiar yelling of a commander telling you all to return to your bunks. You quickly put away your bowl and utensils before hanging back from the line of people walking back towards the measly barracks that housed you all. Through the large body of people you see the crowd finally thin out as people their respective barracks. As you get closer to yours you finally spot Seulgi towards the entrance of the building. Coming up behind her you speak out.

"You didn't forget, did you?" She takes a moment to think before huffing.

"I suppose I should humor you after all."

You turn without letting her speak further. There's a silence between the two of you as you go to retrieve your training swords. You'd expect to hear loud padded footsteps behind you, but surprisingly Seulgi's footsteps sound faint. Nearly nonexistent.

The night sky of course makes it hard to see things, but your years of training has ingrained the layout of the entire area into your heart. It also helps that the moonlight allows you to see just enough as well. You make it to your destination with ease, picking up your weapon you watch as Seulgi grabs hers too.

"Where are we going to fight?" She questions you tiredly.

"Out in the field." Your answer is curt as you once again lead Seulgi, this time to the middle of the field you had fought in earlier in the day. When you arrive you distance yourself farther away from her and take your stance.

"You ready?" You ask her as you plant your feet into the ground and focus on your breathing.

"Mhm." Seulgi, unlike you, decides to stand there. She seems uncommitted, like she doesn't care about the fight. How dare she do that when your pride is on the line? When you're taking this so seriously?

Frustration builds up inside of you as you take her attitude as disrespect. You move in to give her a quick jab. Extending your arm, you feel your weapon graze her before she moves out of the way. A popping noise fills the air as she strikes down near the hilt of your weapon, trying to make you loosen your grip. It almost works but you quickly readjust your hands. You force up your sword in retaliation, breaking away the contact between your two swords.

With your sword so high up you decide to go for a horizontal swing towards Seulgi's body. In the early moments of your swing though, Seulgi ducks down and gives you an upwards jab towards your chest.

You heave as air forcefully leaves your lungs, a pain exploding around your chest.

"God!" You wheeze out loudly. Seulgi stands in front of you while she lowers her sword. You get down to your knees and look at the ground. Your breathing normalizes quickly but you try to get your bearings before rising again.

"I still... don't get it." As quickly as your breathing returned to its normal state, your voice quivered as your eyes felt hot. The disappointment that you seemingly always felt around Seulgi had made its reappearance. This time it hit harder than normal. Hard enough to make you start crying.

As your breathing began to become more uneven you finally raise your head and stand up. The form of your opponent gets closer to you. The only sounds between the two of you is the noises escaping your throat as you broke down again.

"How can you manage to fight like that?" You notice Seulgi has put both of her hands out to you. Your hesitance to take them spurs her to speak.

"I'll show you." Her voice touches you somehow. How have you never noticed how angelic she sounded? How gentle she was being with you right now? "Just take them."

You allow her to take your hands. She carefully clasps her similarly calloused hands around yours and begins to move. Her body sways, you don't quite understand why but you try to follow suit.

"I don't get it." You say as you try to mirror her movements. You fumble in embarrassment as Seulgi moves with confidence and grace. You're like a fawn who hasn't learned how to walk next to her.

"I'm a dancer, don't you see?" She momentarily lets go of your hands and walks backwards. You miss the feeling of her hands but you're entranced by the short show she puts on.

She performs for you, the dance itself was beautiful as she created curves and angles with her body. The moonlight enhances it, bouncing off her body and allowing her to glow.

Why have you never noticed how delicate her features looked? How it looked as if she was hand sculpted by the gods?

She returns back to you, taking your hands in hers and leads you back to dancing. You focus harder on trying to mimic her correctly. Eventually the both of you are gracefully dancing across the vast field. You're calmer now, happy even.

"See?" Seulgi says after a while of silent dancing. "The battlefield is my dancefloor, and I'm simply dancing around your blade."

"You're an incredible dancer, Seulgi." Seulgi has brought the two of you closer now. You notice how her lips tug up a bit as you pay her a compliment. That was the first time you've complimented her, perhaps even anyone here. It was the first time you said something without malice to her.

"I try." She laughs a bit. "I wanted to be a professional dancer at first actually. My family wanted me to go into a more noble field though, for the sake of our reputation. I protested at first of course. As I thought more though I decided I wouldn't mind protecting people. I still try to dance everyday though."

"Oh." Shock is laced through your voice. Listening to Seulgi was a humbling experience to say the least. You had wanted to become a knight for your own honor, to attain glory and recognition. You hadn't paid much thought towards protecting other people.

It was also strange to see Seulgi treat you like this. Her kindness was unprecedented. Was your hatred and spite one-sided all along?

"Hm?" Seulgi is curious to your shock as she quirks her eyebrow.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"I've..." It hurts you a bit to say sorry, let alone apologize correctly. You force yourself to do it though. Maybe, just maybe, you need to change. "I've certainly acted coldly towards you and others. My actions have been... conceited." You here a soft giggle before Seulgi speaks again.

"You're cuter when you're not being awful, you know?" You're glad that the sun has set and that Seulgi can't see the embarrassment on your face. Seulgi hums a tune as you continue dancing together.

"Try smiling more and scowling less. You'd be more approachable that way, along with some attitude changes of course. Aren't you lonely?" She tries to advise you, and normally you'd lash out if anyone made comments about your behavior, but you can't help but to listen to the soothing voice of Seulgi.

"...I can try." You whisper. "I think, if I may speak frankly, I would be okay with being second best under you." Seulgi laughs again.

"Oh? Was dancing with you all it took to make you earn some humility?"

"Maybe... can we dance again another time?" You ask with hesitance before you quickly elaborate. "To get better at fighting, like you! Of course. Only if you want to."

"If this would effectively make you learn your lesson, then sure."

This was the first time you could talk to someone like this, and you like it.

"Thank you, Seulgi, for your patience."

You understand why she's the best apprentice out of all of you. Why people flock around her. Who wouldn't want to be near the giving soul of Seulgi?