#he was immediately like ‘WAIT NO I MEANT THE OPTIMISM IS RUINING MY LIFE NOT YOU IM NOT A MISOGYNIST’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladyeliot · 4 years ago

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I’ll fix it

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader.

Summary: Everything changed the day Tony Stark felt your body fall apart in his hands, from then on a struggle to try to bring you back to him began.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of death. Time travel.

Word count: 6283

A/N: Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader’s abilities: Master Martial Artist, experienced in espionage, talented Hacker.

There was a turning point in Tony Stark’s life, that moment when everything changed, when like ashes you scattered through space, when your body disappeared leaving motes of your essence in his hands.

The battle to save humanity was lost the moment the time stone, protected by Doctor Strange, found its way into Thanos’ Gauntlet, leaving only a single chance to deal with a successful end to the final battle. All of you present had led the fight with acuity, but there was little you could do, you knew that as you fell one by one. Your bodies lay in the ruins of the once superpowered planet, waiting for someone with the will to continue fighting death, Tony was the last one standing until Thanos managed to strip him of his own Iron Man suit, stabbing him in the side with the sword Tony had created with his nanonites. Something snapped inside you, causing the relentless pain in your joints to fade and you managed to get up, before the wizard offered him the last stone and Quill unsuccessfully tried to stop him before Thanos vanished.

“Tony,” you whispered awkwardly reaching out to him, wrapping your arms around his body.

The exhaustion was such that you both let yourselves fall and ended up sitting in the ashes of that place. You brought your faces close together, facing each other, letting them rest, feeling your connection again. The bruises showed what you had suffered, open wounds that allowed blood to spread freely over every part of your face. You had just lost too much, it was a break between before and after, but the one thing you couldn’t bear to lose was him. Tony covered his cut with the last of his remaining nanonites, expressing an inward groan of relief, allowing himself to think again about what had happened.

“Why would you do that?” he muttered pleadingly, looking at Strange, who stood a few feet away from you.

“We are in the endgame now.”

That had a meaning, only Vision’s name came to mind, he was the only one who could stop that, the one who possessed the last stone, the mind stone.

Little by little, the reunion of those present was the only thing that eased the pain, you were all there, none of you had suffered worse consequences. The silence of the planet made your skin crawl, warning that this could happen to the earth if the snapping were to happen. You and Tony stumbled to your feet, watching as Peter came to you.

“Something’s happening,” your gaze connected with Mantis who had just said those words.

You had never felt so much fear inside you, until you saw how his body seemed to extrapolate and turn into ashes that disappeared moments later. The mental and bodily blockade came over everyone present, the terror professing itself through their features. Tony’s fingers clung to your right arm, barely moving from where Mantis was before he vanished.

You all looked around anxiously, hoping to find some answer to the event that had just occurred, but you only saw Drax turning to ashes, joint by joint disappearing.

“Quill?” Drax looked at him as little by little his friend’s body parts dissolved.

“Steady, Quill,” with those words Tony increased the pressure of his fingers on your arm, showing his own insecurity.

“Aw, man,” Quill whispered before melting into the wind.

It had happened, no one could have stopped him, Thanos had gotten the five infinity stones and had done the snap. No one present had any idea how it had happened, but it was clear, your worst fears had been realised.

“Tony,” Strange muttered, causing the few of you present to focus your gaze on him. “There was no other way.”

And so it was that another one turned to ashes. But it wasn’t over yet.

“Mr. Stark?” Tony and you noticed that Peter was starting to wobble, your gazes were horrified at him. “I don’t feel so good…”

“You are all right,” Tony’s words sounded confident, but hid the fear he felt inside.

“I don’t know what’s – I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t–” Peter managed to reach you, falling into Tony’s arms, who wrapped his arms around him and pinned him to the ground. “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark, please. Please, I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go…” his voice was broken with sobs. “I’m sorry.”

You walked away from the scene, holding your hands to your face as you watched your partner’s body disappear, leaving a void in its place. So, in that moment you realised that your terror was based on the loss of your loved ones, of your family that they had become, you were not afraid of disappearing, you were afraid of them disappearing. You staggered a few steps away, unable to come to terms with what you were witnessing at that very moment, although you didn’t have time either, as a faint tingling sensation appeared in your lower extremities.

“Tony…” a faint tone came from within you, but his reaction was immediate.

“No,” he said, standing up.

You’d never seen him look at you like that before, it broke you to contemplate his watery eyes and fully dilated pupils, expressing desperation, being unable to do anything about it to stop it.

“I…” your voice trailed off.

“I got you, I got you,” his voice was broken, but rigid. “I- I promise I’ll fix this, I’ll fix this.”

You could feel his arms around your body with intensity, the warmth of his body reaching yours, but it was only an instant before you stopped feeling everything and disintegrated into ashes in his hands.

The secular emptiness came a few seconds later to Tony, it was the moment when he understood what had happened and what it meant. He belonged to that 50% of the population that had a second chance, but you were that 50% that had turned to dust from one instant to the next. A feeling indescribable to his mind invaded every inch of his body, he was lost, looking around him, hoping that it was all a nightmare from which he could wake up, but it was clear that he was living in real life, because you were not the only one who disappeared. Completely shattered, he walked through the ruins looking for an answer, some sign to hold on to, to tell him what to do, but it never came.

Time became his enemy, what happened made him realise that every step without you is a moment of his life lost. First it was days, then weeks, then months, then years, he spent a long period of time working against the clock, looking for a way to solve what happened, to come back to you. Thousands of ideas were discarded without coming to a definitive conclusion that could counteract the effects of the snap. Tony knew that if he gave up it would mean losing you forever, the life you had imagined so many times, which you never got to because of the countless missions and obstacles along the way. You were almost on the verge of touching it with your fingers once, after all that happened in Sokovia and the signing of agreements you opted to embrace the simple life, but Thanos and the stones came along and shattered your lives.

Tony had converted the cabin he built for you and didn’t have time to show you, into his own lair. He spent the hours locked away, barely sleeping, at least for the first four years, then he declined, until one day, the light seemed to brighten and his old companions appeared, offering him one last chance to get what he was looking for.

“Now, we know what it sounds like…” Scott was leaning against the wooden porch.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything really impossible?” Steve looked at him with concern, Tony’s appearance had deteriorated over the years. He looked exhausted and full of unresolved doubts.

“I must say I sometimes miss this foolish optimism,” he grimaced, a grimace resembling a smile. “Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” his tone rose. “In Layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” he paused. “What do you think I’ve been doing for these five years? Do you think I haven’t thought about it already?”

“I came back,” Scott interjected.

“No, you accidentally survived,” Tony cut him off. “It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a…. What do you call it?”

“A time heist?” said Scott smiling nonchalantly.

“Yeah, a time heist. Of course,” Tony frowned putting his index finger to his lips. “Why didn’t we think of this before? Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipedream?”

“When did you give up?” cut Steve off with rudeness in his tone of voice. “When did you give up? When did you give her up?”

Those were the words that made Tony rise from his seat, tilt his face to one side and force his facial expression.

“You have no idea,” she approached him, pointing her index finger at him. “Where have you been for these five years? Creating an armada of joint therapy groups? Has that helped?”

“Tony…” Natasha interjected, but he barely paid attention.

“While you were out here with your army of crybabies I was out here, day after night trying to find a solution to undo this mess we’ve created,” Tony paused, clenched his jaw and sighed deeply. “So don’t come to me now and say I’ve given it all up for lost.”

It was clear that Steve knew how to set Tony’s mind in motion, he knew where it hurt and how he could reignite their old friendship, it only took him naming you for him when the group left to pick up on every loose end he had created over those last few years.

It was hours of thought processes, of proposing to himself the quantum possibilities that could work, but more importantly the consequences, what could happen and what number of percentages existed to bring you all back. It didn’t take him long to come up with a way out, completely illogical to anyone except those who were as crazy as he was. So it was that after all this time he arrived at the New Avengers facility.

“Why the long face?” the car stopped in front of Steve. “Let me guess, it turned him into a baby.”

“Among other things,” Steve shoved his hands into his trousers pockets and looked straight ahead. “What are you doing here?”

“Not giving her up,” Tony shrugged and got out of the car, introducing himself to Steve, who smiled. “Mind you, I don’t plan to participate in any of your open tears.”

That opened a process of slow reconstruction of the events of the past years. It opened wounds, showed the aftermath, but also reunited all the Avengers who had managed to survive Thanos’ snap. The important thing is that there were enough Pym particles for a round trip for everyone present. But the important thing was to find out where the stones were located depending on the time.

They were fortunate, or rather lucky, that three of the stones met at one point in their own history in New York City, precisely during the Chitauri invasion. That was bound to cause a bitter memory for Tony, but it suddenly changed when he found out what it meant, he would go back there, he would do that mission, and you would be there. You were there when in 2012 the Avengers faced the invasion in New York, it was your first mission, when you were all recruited, when you met for the first time.

“Okay, we have a plan,” Steve reported after he had organised the teams. All eyes were focused on a screen showing the stones and their location. “Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

It was clear that what they were about to face was something completely new, none of them had had time to perhaps acquire the necessary skills to tackle this new job, new mission. It was back to the past, at least they had the advantage of knowing what the future held, of knowing what would be in store for them if they failed to succeed in their tasks.

“Five years ago, we lost.” Steve began a speech to his colleagues positioned in circles on the starting platform. “All of us. We lost friends… We lost family… We lost a part of ourselves,” Steve and Tony’s eyes met. “Today, we have a chance to take it all back.” he paused slightly. “You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives. And we’re gonna win,” silence filled the room.“Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

After those words, which were encouraging for all the events that were to follow, a space loop embraced each of them, transporting them through time and space, rendering their matter insignificant. Their bodies separated between space cavities transporting them to the right time.

Tony, along with Bruce, Steve and Scott, appeared in an alleyway in New York City in 2012. The smell of dust and molten iron wafted into their nasal cavities. Everything around him was in ruins, the great skyscrapers looked like they were part of a film of the earth’s extinction, it reminded him of some of his worst fears, but it didn’t distract him because he knew how it was going to end.

“We all have our tasks,” Steve informed them, looking around at an overturned car. “Two stones on the outskirts, one in the centre. Keep a low profile,” he shifted his gaze to Tony, who nodded, raising his hands. “Keep an eye on the time.”

Given the orders the group made a point of dispersing, but Steve held Tony’s arm for a second, focusing his gaze on him.

“Are you going to be all right?” His blue eyes showed concern, including his voice as well.

“Of course,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve been through this once, I can do it again.”

With that said, Tony attached the Iron Man suit to his body and disappeared from the scene. Although his statement exuded self-assurance, he seemed to crumble a little when he reached the top of the Chrysler Building, finding himself in front of Stark Tower. His android vision allowed him to take in the scene taking place on the top floor of his old Tower. There stood the group of Avengers, surrounding Loki, holding him back, he knew that moment as if he had lived it only yesterday, but what almost made his heart stop was to find your figure there. The thrusters of his suit brought him closer to the Tower, accessing the interior through one of the open windows and keeping himself hidden behind some sculptures.

The suit disappeared from his body, becoming Tony Stark again, it was almost unheard of for him, there you were, as if time had never passed. His steps were slow, but he seemed to be completely lost, watching your every move, as if he had no job to do, and his only mission was to watch you. He could not escape the hundreds of memories that came back to him, he even felt guilty about numerous things he had said, done, or not said and done.

“Alright, who gets the wand?” you said holding up Loki’s sceptre.

Your words at that moment came to 2023 Tony with a wide smile, to hear your voice so close to him again and not through any electronic device made a lump form in his throat.

“Are you all right, dude?” Scott cut the moment short.

Tony realised at that very moment that Scott had been on his right shoulder the entire time, a fact that brought all his senses back into focus on the scene he was reliving. The lift opened, ushering in the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, who were actually Hydra, but none of you knew it at the time.

“All right, you’re up, little buddy. There’s our stone,” Tony whispered to Scott.

“All right,” Scott took up position on his partner’s shoulder. “Flick me.”

There Scott’s mission began, and he made his way to the Tony of the past to join him. The scene on the top floor of Stark Tower continued as if nothing strange was going on.

“You got it?” you asked the past Tony, watching as he put the tesseract into the briefcase.

“Yep,” he replied, closing the case and looking at you with a half smile.

“By the way, how about that drink afterwards Miss Y/L/N?”

“Interesting that you can think of a drink Mr. Stark,” you said crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, when I buy someone a drink I’m not just thinking about drinking,” he winked at you to which you narrowed your eyes and headed towards the lift with the other companions. “Is that a yes?”

“Well I try,” muttered the Tony of the present to himself, who inevitably couldn’t hold back a smile as he saw with his own eyes that moment and your way of rejecting it, for it was the beginning of too many things. So, as you all disappeared down the lift he too made his way to his new assigned position.

“ Okay, Cap, I got our scepter in the elevator just passing the 80th floor,” he informed Steve over the intercom. “I’ll head down the hall.”

Steve had his mission, to get the sceptre by pretending to be a Hydra agent in front of those who really were and were now guarding the briefcase. Meanwhile, Tony took over one of the security uniforms of the Shield agents, to impersonate one of them and get the briefcase that had the tesseract inside that was now in the possession of the former Tony.

The avengers arrived at the lobby, Scott in thumb size’, that’s what Tony liked to call him, had to get inside the reactor of his victim to produce a small shock, and so everyone would focus their gaze on the old Tony, while the one from 2023 got hold of the briefcase, but things didn’t go as planned.

“I’m looking forward to going to Shawarma Palace,” Tony was standing next to you, “We could take it as our first date, what do you think?”

“Interesting,” you said, barely looking at him but with a slight smile on your face, “It’ll be great to say that genius billionaire Tony Stark asked me out for shawarma on our first date.”

“You forgot about philanthropist and Playboy,” he added, raising an eyebrow.“So that’s… Oh, Mr. Secretary!”

The conversation with Shield’s superior began, it was the ideal time where Scott had the opportunity to carry out his mission, for the tesseract was disappearing at that moment, and it would be tricky to access it again.

“All right, move it, Stuart Little. Things are getting dicey up here. Let’s go,” Tony informed Scott over the intercom.

It looked like everything was going down the drain, as Scott was in trouble for giving him a cardiac arrhythmia, however, everyone was stunned when at that moment Tony’s body stopped, and then began to convulse and fall to the ground. Your expression suddenly changed, as did the others.

“Tony?” you asked, dropping down beside Tony, worried about what was happening to him.

“Medics!” exclaimed the Tony Stark of 2023, taking in the scene. “You guys, some help!”

“Talk to me,” you said grabbing his face, which was completely flushed since he couldn’t breathe.

“Aw, she’s worried,” the present Tony muttered to himself.

“Is that the machine in your chest?” Thor, who was standing next to him, asked.

Meanwhile Scott, who had emerged from the reactor in the chest of the Tony of the past, pushed hard on the briefcase so that the Tony of the future could take it in his hands and go in search of a way out, but in that instant the Hulk suddenly appeared knocking Tony down, opening the briefcase, making the tesseract fly out and land at the feet of Loki who took it in his hands and disappeared.

“Come on Tony breathe,” you said looking at Thor hoping he would do something about it.

“I’ll try something, but I don’t know if it will work,” Thor brought his hammer to Tony’s chest, specifically the reactor and offered him a small shock, bringing the air back into his lungs. “Yes!”

“Whew, that worked a treat,” he said between gasps, looking at both of us. “Dude, that was crazy,” he thought. “The case.”

“Uhh, the case is…” Thor looked around.

“Where is the case?” you asked getting up trying to intercept him with your gaze.

“Where is Loki?” exclaimed Thor. “Loki!”

Meanwhile, ten meters away from the scene, the Tony from the future was completely knocked to the ground, after the Hulk knocked him down.

“Oh, we blew it,” Tony said without barely getting up, listening to all the conversation you had a few feet away.

The Tony of the future got up and opted to walk through the door leading to the stairs before anyone noticed him, for due to the Hulk’s untimely and shocking appearance, there were hardly any people left in the hall, apart from the Avengers and the Shield agents, of which he was undercover. However, as he was walking down a long corridor on the third floor, something stopped him.

“Excuse me agent,” your voice appeared as if it were an apparition behind him, causing him to stop his steps. “I must ask you to stay in the hall, we need to question everyone present in case we find evidence of what just happened.”

This was completely new, Tony hadn’t experienced it, he didn’t know what was going to happen or how he would best act on this occasion, but he knew that if he turned around you would most likely recognise him, as the black helmet and goggles barely covered his face, leaving the lower part of his face uncovered. At the same time, you kept a SIG Sauer P226 in your hand just at hip level, waiting at all times to watch the reactions of the man in front of you.

“Of course,” said Tony, changing his tone of voice slightly, making it deeper than usual, but still he just kept his position, his back to you.

“Could you turn around and come with me?” you asked with a frown, brushing your fingers over the gun and feeling a bad feeling inside you, for there was something that didn’t sit right with you.

Tony took a deep breath and lowered his face, there were a thousand ideas running through his mind right now, he didn’t know which one was worse than the last, so he connected several pieces and took one that would produce some personal gain, for worse than they were already, perhaps, things couldn’t get any worse.

“Are you sure?”

Slowly Tony’s body turned 180 degrees to face you. His features were obvious, his brown eyes accompanied by honey-coloured flecks, his beard so neatly trimmed, and those full lips, all 100% Tony Stark. But it was obvious to you that this was a trap, Loki had disappeared and you were aware of his every ability to deceive, after all he was the master of mischief. You didn’t stop for a moment to take the gun in your hands and point it firmly in his face, you had a clean shot.

“Loki…” you whispered frowning and squinting one eye to improve your aim.

“Not exactly,” Tony held up his hands retreating back a step, but showing no nervousness at all at the situation. “God, how I resent you mistaking me for him.”

It was at that precise moment, when he had you two metres away pointing a gun to his head, that he realised how long those five years had been, five years without being able to look at your face, without hearing your voice, without your caresses, without your kisses… for which he would die in those moments of your gunshot. He found himself with his hands raised, his body totally paralysed and his lips half-open, in love with you. You were not really the woman he had left behind, it was 2012 and many of your features were changed, but it was you.

“Where is the tesseract?” you asked, bringing him back to his senses. “What have you done with it?”

“That’s what I want to know,” he replied casually and slowly lowered his hands, knowing that bullet wasn’t going to be fired at him.

Tony’s mind worked fast, he was quick in his thoughts and in his actions, although sometimes that could get him into serious trouble because of the consequences of his actions, so he had no idea what he was doing at that moment, because his whole body was begging him to have a meeting with you and so he did. Now it was time to figure out where to go with the situation, but Tony was not a great planner, he flowed with time.

“By the way, did you get rid of that damn FBI agent yet? What was his name?” Tony knew how to test you to make you realise he wasn’t Loki. “Ah yes, Agent Chatter, god, how I hated him. I would have loved to see you spill champagne all over his scalp.”

“How do you… How do you know that?” your voice sounded gruff, but quizzical at the same time, even though you had no intention of conversing with him you were curious as to how the hell he had found out that information, as Tony was the only one who called Matthew ‘Agent Chatter’.

“You told me,” he said taking a step towards you, closing the distance, causing you to back away. “I told you, I’m not Loki.”

“I’ve never told anyone what happened with Matthew,” your breath hitched as you realised you didn’t understand what was going on.

“Well, you haven’t really told me yet,” he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side.

You remained thoughtful for a couple of seconds. “I know exactly what you’re doing,” you tightened your grip on the gun, your hands beginning to sweat. “Your mind games aren’t going to work on me.

The moment was complex to explain, Tony had hundreds of possibilities to offer you in that moment and for you to discover that it wasn’t Loki in front of you, he knew how he could deal with the situation, but he wanted you to be the one to figure it out for yourself. He was playing with fire, he knew better than anyone how space-time worked, but he had an ace up his sleeve, an ace that Steve was carrying at that moment and he would use it later.

Tony slowly brought his hands to his face, causing you to fix your aim again with his moments, you feared what he might do next, for anything was to be expected with Loki, but Tony merely removed his helmet and goggles, dropping them to the ground exposing his full face to you.

A strange feeling came over your body, it was obviously a familiar face, you had spent numerous hours with Tony Stark in the previous weeks, but it wasn’t really your Tony standing before you. The features looked aged, more wrinkles were in the key parts of his face, grey hair was showing through his hair and also in his beard. Concentrating on analysing each of his features made you soften your grip on the gun.

"It’s me,” he murmured, making another attempt to move towards you, and succeeded, bringing the barrel of the gun down on his chest, clattering against his reactor. He gingerly reached out his arm, reaching up to your face and brushing aside a lock of your hair. “I can’t explain too much, but…”

“Tony?” a new voice joined your encounter, snapping you out of your abstraction. “What are you doing?”

Again you put distance between you and Tony, wary of what had just happened and rather guilty for letting yourself be bamboozled by Loki. You looked at the Captain who was coming from the far end of that long hallway and was just now standing metres away from you.

“It’s not Tony, Captain, it’s one of Loki’s tricks,” you explained without looking away from Tony who was looking at Steve a little guilty about the situation that had been created. “Captain, warn the others, inform them that we have Loki on the third floor of the west wing.”

“I. Am. Not. Loki,” Tony qualified each of his words somewhat irritated that you still believed it was Loki. “Can you tell her Cap?”

“Tony, what the hell are you doing?” Steve used a gruff tone, now the one who sounded irritated was him, as he was unaware of where Tony’s plans were headed.

“Shit,” Tony whispered turning his gaze towards him.“When they put that serum in your veins they offered you the gift of inopportunity, didn’t they?”

For you everything was much more confusing, your quick analysis of the situation and the two figures that stood before you had many gaps of information. You knew those guys, you had spent more hours of your life with them than with your family, you had studied them, you had analysed them and really that Steve and Tony that were before you were not the same guys, and there was only one Loki, both could not be Loki, at least within your logic, although with Loki anything goes. But what you realised was that the captain was holding the sceptre, why was the captain holding the sceptre right now?

“I’m sorry Tony, but we have to go,” he repeated firmly, which brought you back to reality.

“I don’t think either of you are going anywhere,” you quickly pulled a new pistol from the back of your suit, two guns for two people standing in front of you.

That elicited a sigh of disgust from Steve, who raised his hands, raising the sceptre in one hand and the shield in the other, halting his stride in his tracks.

“What was your bright idea Tony?” he asked seriously.

“I don’t know Cap, you know I like to improvise,” he shrugged his shoulders without taking his eyes off you, raising his hands and giving you a wide and warm smile, which didn’t affect you at all.

“Great, so improvise if you don’t want me to,” Steve sentenced him without moving from his position.

“She’s mine,” Tony slowly brought his hand to his chest, where he offered himself a couple of taps and the armour ran over every millimetre of him, covering his limbs.

Was Loki really capable of that? Confusion engulfed you, it had all your senses alert, your mind asking a hundred questions you couldn’t answer. But if it’s not any of them Loki who are they?

Tony looked at Steve’s sceptre, that was the only key way out he could think of, but since he had laid all his cards on the table, he wasn’t going to leave without doing one thing first, so he started to close the gap with you.

“If you take one more step…” you began to say, backing down the long corridor of Stark Tower.

“Honey, surely my 2012 self would punch me if he knew his 2023 self was going to do what I’m about to do,” he started to approach you which made you stand on guard, “since I’d take all the credit away from him, because he won’t do it for another two years or so, but…” between the words and his approach you blocked and pulled the trigger of the gun pointed at him, causing the bullet to hit and fall to the ground. “Hey! That hurt, well, not physically, but you just hurt my feelings.”

“Don’t come any closer…” you muttered, aiming both pistols at Iron Man’s armour.

Your gesture was profoundly in vain, as your footsteps stopped and Tony was close enough to grab the pistols tightly and wrestle them out of your hands, throwing them into the distance, unable for you to avoid. At that exact moment, Iron Man’s suit disappeared, allowing you to look at him again, much closer than the first time. You didn’t know if it was a mind game, but you could almost feel a strange connection between your gazes, the way he looked at you as if he wanted to tell you something, as if he was hiding a long way in them.

“God, I’d almost forgotten what your face…” Tony’s words were inconclusive, but he voiced a smile at the end of them.

What? you wanted to ask out loud, it was so strange, so incomprehensible to you that you were almost terrified at that moment. His eyes looked at you as if they had known you all your life, as if you had lived too many moments together to remember them all, and you just wanted to ask him about it, but you did not. Tony’s arm was around your waist before you could even react and he pulled you close to him, his lips firmly against yours. For Tony it was one of the best sensations of his life, every limb seemed to fill with energy, his skin bristled, he placed his other hand on your back preventing you from fleeing if you had any intention of doing so. He felt your body scent envelop him again after so many years away from you and it brought a lump to his throat. He didn’t want to separate from you, he couldn’t separate from you, he was terrified inside, he could hardly move his lips, for he feared you would run away if he did.

On your part it was something completely unexpected that you didn’t know how to carry out, it seemed that your common sense was lost somewhere, as if it had extrapolated from your body and didn’t act. Your eyes remained open for the first few seconds, observing the nothingness, but when you felt his second hand on your back to bring you closer to him, they closed very slowly, as if you expected to receive an answer from this act to your numerous doubts. You held still, with no intention of separating yourself from him. You wouldn’t deny that you hadn’t thought about what it would be like to kiss Tony Stark, but that wasn’t the Tony Stark you knew.

It was time that decided when to end it, Tony’s face was the one that put distance, but his minus was still glued to your back. He leaned his forehead against yours, exposing his ragged breath against your face.

“Who are you?” you whispered against his lips without opening your eyes yet.

Tony pulled back a few inches, opened his eyes and brought his hands to your face analysing every facial feature before him, running his thumb over your cheeks and lips.

“I promise I’ll fix it,” he whispered feeling himself. “It’ll be all right.”

“What… What will be alright?” your hesitation felt present in your words, it was incomprehensible what he was saying.

“I…” began Tony.

As if the breath stopped in your lungs, you took one last exhale before everything went dark and you hips surrendered in Tony’s arms. The tip of the sceptre had grazed your body causing you to enter a deep sleep from which when you awoke you would possibly think that everything you had experienced was a dream, or that it was really Loki who was playing with you.

“It would have been rather more gentlemanly of you to let me do it,” Tony looked at Steve spitefully as he held your body in his hands.

A fearful sigh escaped Tony’s lips as he carefully laid your body on the floor and ran his palm over his face, facing a voice that told him he couldn’t leave.

“Tony, we can’t leave any loose ends,” Steve whispered as he watched Tony continue to hold you in his arms. “I know how much you want to get back to her. So the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you’ll be reunited,” Steve rested his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “By the way, where do you have the tesseract?”

“Interesting question…”

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

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iamdeku · 4 years ago

Text

Strictly Business: ProHero!Deku x Reader

Pro hero!Izuku meeting his new personal assistant who is nervous and had previous terrible experiences with Proheros who treated her like a tool. (Reader is female)

This was a really fun request to do! I loved the idea for this and definitely got a little carried away with the word count, haha. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault. Bad bosses. I did not proofread.

You had been nervous when you had started working for the #1 hero. You had worked hard to get here, but it had been a long road, and it hadn’t always been fun. In fact, up until now it had been terrible. When you walked into Deku’s office, you were seriously thinking about undoing years of work and changing your career path entirely.

Your dream had been to work with heroes. Not be harassed by them.

You first job had also been your first mistake. You should have known better than to work with the Fresh-Picked hero, Grape Juice, but you were new to the industry and no one had warned you off. So you became a personal assistant to your sleaziest boss to date.

Mineta had done his best to ruin your life. He sexually harassed you at ever turn, abused his power, kept you after hours and made you do ridiculous things. When you finally gathered the courage to quit, you never looked back.

When you were looking for your next job, you decided it was better to go with an established hero, one who had been in the game a long time. Endeavor, as the former #1 hero, seemed like a solid, safe choice. You were so wrong.

You worked for Endeavor for years, unwilling to quit the paycheck, but the experience was awful. Endeavor was arrogant, with a terrible temper and a hefty helping of sexism. By the time you were in a financially stable enough place to quit that job, you had lost all faith in the heroes around you.

So now, starting your first day working for Deku, you were prepared for the worst. You were sure you were about to be introduced to some fresh torture, but you were ready for whatever he would level at you. Heroes could sink no lower in your eyes.

So naturally, you were surprised on your first day when he seemed…nice. Sweet even.

You knocked on his office door, a combination of dread and resignation swirling in your stomach. You expected a wait, but he answered it almost immediately.

“Hi! You’re my new personal assistant, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m sorry I wasn’t at your interview. I meant to be there but there was a crisis downtown I got called in for. I hope you got the gift basket I sent to your house to apologize. I really am so sorry, it’s terrible policy not to have met you before now.”

You had gotten that gift basket, actually, but you hadn’t thought he was aware of it. You definitely hadn’t thought it was his idea, but from the sounds of his speech it definitely had been. You blinked at him a couple of times, trying to gather your wits after that rapid speech.

“Yes,” you said. “I’m your new personal assistant. It’s very nice to meet you. What can I do for you today sir?”

He seemed confused, as though he hadn’t expected a personal assistant to be ready to work. That couldn’t be right though. He was an experienced pro.

“Didn’t they tell you when you got here? I thought we could start with lunch together, so I can get to know you since I missed your interview. I’m sorry, I should have sent you an email.”

Your heart sank at his words, all of your hopes for his kindness to be genuine crashing with it. So, it was to be the hopelessly flirtatious boss who thought you existed to fulfill his fantasies again. You had seen that before.

“I’m really not sure that would be wise, sir. I like to maintain a strict level of professionalism,” you said, making your refusal as polite as you could.

He blinked, as though it hadn’t even occurred to him that might not be professional.

“Oh. I suppose you have a point. Well, why don’t we eat here while we work then? I can ask you a few of the questions I didn’t get to for your interview while you settle in.”

You sighed internally. There was really no way you could politely turn that down, so you forced your face into a smile.

“That sounds like it could work well.”

You were pleasantly surprised when your lunch actually went well. Deku never made a move on you, other than his request for you to call him Izuku, which seemed to apply to all the employees. It could have just been a ploy to get you to let your guard down, but all the same, you wanted to believe he really was this kind.

You two worked together in his office the whole day, and you became familiar with his schedule. He never did anything to make you uncomfortable, and as the day wore on you decided cautious optimism was the way to go. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You smiled fondly at the memory, chopping carrots on the counter. Across the room from you, the man you had come to know well was pacing, mumbling frantically as he analyzed some old battle playing on his TV.

“Izuku, you’re going to throw off my cooking with all that racket, and then we’ll have nothing to eat.” You laughed lightly.

He nearly jumped 10 feet in the air. “Sorry, sorry! I guess I just got a little lost in thought. Although I guess I wasn’t the only one lost. I asked you about my schedule earlier and you didn’t seem to hear me at all.”

You blushed in shame. “Sorry.”

Izuku shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Happens to me all the time. Obviously. What were you thinking about?”

“I was just remembering my first day working for you and how terrified I was.”

It seemed silly to you now, but back then you never could have predicted you would be best friends with your boss, let alone cooking dinner for him while working unofficial overtime as a passion project. You never thought that working for Izuku would be what you always wanted.

“Why were you terrified? Just because I’m #1? You’d worked with famous heroes before. I’m no one special.”

Oh, how wrong he was.

“You are special. You were the first hero I’d worked with who didn’t make me miserable. Every boss I had before you either sexually harassed me, overworked me or was just plain unpleasant. Usually all of those. I had given up on heroes before I met you,” you confessed casually.

Izuku blanched at you.

“What?” The word was breathless, barely audible.

“Yeah. I thought you knew my work history. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but anyone with any experience working with heroes will tell you Endeavor is not a super cuddly guy.”

“I…had no idea.” You looked up and found, to your surprise, that Izuku’s eyes were swimming with tears. “I never knew you were treated like that. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay. I have you now.” You froze at your misstep.

He would probably never notice it, but you had. It really hadn’t been your intention to fall in love with your boss, but he had been so sweet and kind to you that it had happened naturally. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled, the energy he had for the things he loved, his strength and dedication had all lead you here.

“I’m not going to let anything like that happen to you again. Or anyone. I’ll make sure your past employers get investigated.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

There was silence in Izuku’s house as you stared down at the carrot you had been cutting. In an effort to lighten the mood, you tried to make another joke.

“You know, that first day when you invited me to lunch, I thought you were hitting on me.” You laughed a little bit at the absurdity of it. “I know now that you would never do that, obviously.”

You heard the crash when Izuku dropped the mug of tea he had been holding. Before you could move, he was scrambling to pick it up, cheeks bright red and flaming.

“I-Oh, this is terribly awkward.” Izuku mumbled, no doubt thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“Wait. Were you flirting with me?” You asked, breathless.

“No! I mean…not…not then,” he stammered.

“Are you-” You stopped, taking a moment to gather your courage as Izuku stood, effectively giving up on the shards of pottery at his feet. “Are you flirting with me now?”

He stiffened, looking deeply uncomfortable as he met your gaze.

“Yes. I mean, not intentionally! It’s just that I have feelings with you, but I would never act on them. I would never want to make you uncomfortable and if you feel like you need to resign now because of that, I understand. I would be happy to recommend you to any of the other pro-heroes I know, and I can assure you they would make excellent bosses.”

You crossed the room to stand in front of him, taking one of his awkwardly flailing hands in your own.

“I think I am going to have to resign, unfortunately.” You watched his face fall before quickly correcting yourself. “It seems like it would be inappropriate to date my boss. I have feelings for you too, Izuku.”

Rising up on your tiptoes, you dared to kiss his cheek, hot from his blush and scattered with freckles.

“You do?”

The question is quiet, but you hear it clearly with his breath in your ear, faces still close from where you haven’t dared to move. You pull back now, surveying his awestruck face.

“Yes. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I guess it was sort of inevitable that I would fall for you.”

You smiled, biting your lip and staring down at your feet. Izuku’s warm, calloused hand reached up to your cheek, pulling your gaze up to his.

“So does this mean you want to be with me?”

The words seemed too good to be true, striking somewhere deep in your chest and knocking you breathless. Yes. Please, yes, let it be true.

“I would like that very much. If you would, I mean.”

Izuku nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! That was never my intention with this, but after getting to know you, I really do like you. I’m not sure exactly when it happened, but I think you’re beautiful and clever and funny and I would love to take you out on a date, if that’s something you would want.”

You smiled, leaning gently into the palm of his hand that cupped your face, bringing your own hand up to twine your fingers together.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

Izuku laughed softly, and you could hear the emotion in the sound.

“You know, I was so lonely before you. I was really just hoping for a friend when I hired you. I thought maybe we would get along okay and I could have someone to keep me company. I was crushed when you said you liked to keep it professional, but I vowed to myself I would honor your wishes.”

“Yeah. We both did a great job of keeping it professional.” You gestured to your surroundings, snickering to yourself.

“I seem to recall you inviting me into your home first,” he teased.

“Hey! I was having a home decorating crisis! I could not build that shelf myself.”

“Or, as it turns out, with my help.”

You snorted at the memory of your backwards shelf, which you had eventually decided to just make do with. As it turned out, Izuku was terrible at building furniture. He was great at making you happy though.

“Well, it all turned out for the best.”

“It sure did. But I think we can both agree that you’re the one who’s not professional here.”

You rolled your eyes, rising up on your tiptoes.

“How’s this for professional?” You breathed.

Izuku seemed like he might ask questions, but before he could, you kissed him gently. When you pulled away, you were both smiling. Your hands had moved to wrap around his neck, and his hand had fallen to your waist.

“I think I’m really starting to like professionalism.”

#mha #bnha #agedup!midoriya #prohero!deku #deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku

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jilyyall · 4 years ago

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The Art of Charming Muggles

Lily would be lying if she claimed to have forgotten to tell her parents about her boyfriend or his impending visit. Really, she was just too nervous at the thought of introducing a boy to her parents for the first time. She should have known James Potter would have no trouble charming his way into her parents' good graces. He fit perfectly in every aspect of her life; why should this be any different?

Rated T for pure fluff. Word count: 13k+ fanfiction.net / AO3

The antique grandfather clock – just about the only item of any significant value in the Evans house – chimed three o'clock in the afternoon. With something of a determined expression on her face, Lily sighed and stood up from her writing desk, skirting the trunk set in the center of the room, and headed out of her bedroom to search out her parents.

She was not altogether surprised to find them downstairs in the living room, her father in his favourite stuffed blue rocking chair, his nose buried in the morning's newspaper and her mother intently watching Happy Ever After on the television against the far wall while pretending to read a book on the couch.

"Mum, Dad?" Lily waited, hands clasped in front of her, until they both looked up at her. Her father laid the paper down in his lap and her mother looked away from the television with a distracted smile.

"Yes, darling?"

"Well, I was wondering if… I know that Christmas holidays are usually all about being together as a family, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind terribly if I invited over a friend from school. Just for a little visit." She bit her lip when her parents glanced at each other. Her father shrugged and her mother beamed at her.

"Of course not, darling," she said warmly. "We would love to meet your friends."

"Yes, just let us know when you'll be having guests so we can prepare for them," her father said.

"Oh, right. Thank you." Lily waited until her parents had returned to their previous hobbies, then dropped her hands to her sides and tilted her head back in agony. "See, the thing is," she said once she had mostly composed herself, "I may have forgotten to mention to you that I already invited someone over."

Her parents shared another look before her mother leveled the 'mum' eyes on her. "When are they coming?"

"Er – in about an hour? We agreed on four o'clock," Lily said.

"And when did this conversation take place?" Her mother asked.

"On the train home," Lily admitted with a pitiful pleading look.

"A week ago?"

"Yes, Mum. I'm sorry."

"Ah, well, all's fine," her father said easily, leaning forward to lay a hand on his wife's knee. "You were already planning on making that corned beef with cabbage dish you make so well, weren't you, dear?"

"Yes," her mother said. "I do hope there's enough."

"Does your friend have a large appetite, Lily?" Her father asked. "I hope she likes corned beef. Do you know?"

"Er." Lily looked away from her father's innocent expression and grimaced, steeling herself to ruin his optimism. "I'm sure corned beef will be fine. I've never actually seen James turn his nose up at anything."

"James? Who's James?" her father demanded immediately, looking accusingly at his wife.

"A boy, clearly, I don't know," her mother said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, James is a boy," Lily said.

"Is he a special boy?" Mr. Evans questioned.

"Well," Lily said lightly, "he certainly thinks so."

"Is he special to you, Lily?" Mr. Evans clarified, giving his daughter his no-nonsense look.

Lily's smile was soft and slow and very fond. She nodded. "Yes, he is."

When she managed to look up from her bare toes on the beige carpet, Lily found her parents in the middle of what looked to be a silent conversation. She watched them for a moment – all locked gazes and twitching lips and barely moving eyebrows – and saw, for a moment, herself and James silently debating the best way to get a derailed Prefects' meeting back on track, or wordlessly making fun of Sirius any time he claimed to be uninterested in all things romantic while simultaneously tracking Marlene's every movement with his eyes. Blinking, she focused back on her parents as her father sighed and shrugged.

"Well, we knew this would happen eventually." He set his paper to the side and made to stand.

Lily frowned. "What?"

"You're seventeen, you go to boarding school in a world that's completely different to ours," her mother said, also standing. "We've been waiting for you to come home with a boy on your arm."

"You could have given us more warning, though," her father said as he began to sweep from the room.

"I'm sorry," Lily said, terribly confused. "Wait, where are you going?"

"We've got to start on dinner," her mother explained, patting Lily's shoulder as she moved past her. "You never did answer, but I'm assuming James has a rather larger appetite than you?"

"Well, yes. He is very active, after all," Lily said with a bemused smile. "Captain of our House Quidditch team, actually."

Her mother paused a moment, a terrified look on her face before she rushed out of the room and into the kitchen.

"Dear, he's an athlete!" Lily heard her mother call out "We'll need more than corned beef!"

Her father swore from the kitchen, then shouted, "We've got loads of potatoes! You could whip up some colcannon to go with it!"

Eyebrows furrowed, completely taken aback, Lily followed her parents into the kitchen. Her father had his head in the cupboard while her mother was pulling out pots and pans.

"But we've got potatoes, cabbage, and carrots with the corned beef," her mother worried aloud. "Do we really need a second potato dish?"

"Does the boy have something against potatoes?" her father said, surfacing from the cupboard with a large sack of potatoes in hands to see Lily standing there watching in confusion. He lifted an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Oh." Lily cleared her throat and shook her head. "No, James likes potatoes as much as the next person. But I don't think you really need to make a side dish. He's really very easy to please."

"We can't just serve the boy corned beef! It would be rude," her mother insisted. "He's a teenaged boy with an appetite. And he's an athlete!"

"But…" Lily trailed off when her father began scrubbing the potatoes anyway. She sighed. "Colcannon will be great."

"What about dessert, dear?" her father asked.

Lily decided to take her leave when her mother swore loudly. Still reeling a bit at their unexpected reaction – she had thought they would be upset to learn about James, not frantic to feed him – she made her way up the stairs. When the door at the top of the stairs opened and Petunia stuck her long neck round the door, blond hair in curlers, Lily paused.

Petunia's blue eyes went a bit cool when they found Lily, but she still spoke to her, which Lily took as a victory. "What's all the commotion about downstairs?"

"We've got a dinner guest coming tonight," Lily said with a small shrug. "My boyfriend, James. Mum and Dad have decided to add colcannon to the menu."

"In that case, I'm glad I've got a date with Vernon tonight," Petunia said with a haughty little sniff.

Lily frowned. "But you love colcannon."

"I meant not having to sit through a meal with another freak," Petunia said, nose upturned as she retreated back into her room and snapped the door shut in Lily's face.

Pursing her lips, annoyed and unwilling to let it consume her, Lily took a deep breath through her nose and walked down the hall to her own bedroom. She had about forty-five minutes before James was due to arrive and nothing really to do; she figured she may as well change out of her loungewear and fix her hair.

She started to plug in her mother's curling iron when she saw her wand lying on her bedside table. She reached over to pick it up then, after a moment's deliberation, abandoned the Muggle method and reached for the book of beauty charms her friend Mary had gifted her for Christmas.

After several minutes of flipping though the pages, Lily found a spell she felt confident enough to attempt in front of her vanity mirror. The result was quite pretty, she thought, with her auburn hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. She would have to remember to thank Mary properly for the gift.

A movement outside her window distracted her from admiring her wandwork. She looked up, startled to see a tall boy with long, long legs and messy black hair walking down the street toward her house – it couldn't be four already. She checked her watch and grinned when she saw that he was early – only by seven minutes, but James Potter was never seven minutes early to anything that wasn't Quidditch related.

She ran down the stairs, past the kitchen where she ignored her parents' startled questions, and out the front door. He was in front of her neighbour's house when she flew off the porch steps and into her own snow-covered garden. The wide grin that split his face when he looked up to find her running toward him made her laugh giddily.

He caught her effortlessly when she launched herself at him, his arms wrapping around her waist and holding her to him. He kissed her hair, her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips, and was smiling when he pulled back to look at her, eyes soft and twinkling like they always did whenever he was feeling particularly fond of her which was very often.

"Merlin, I missed you, Evans," he breathed, then kissed her again briefly.

"I missed you, too," she told him, burying her face in his neck as he held her, feet dangling off the ground.

"I can see that," he said, and the teasing note in his voice was so familiar and had been so missed that she couldn't even think of what he could be teasing her about. "In such a rush to kiss me you forgot shoes?"

She frowned, then quite suddenly became aware of her freezing toes. She had changed out of her loungewear into a nice pair of jeans and a deep violet jumper and apparently, in all the excitement of testing beauty charms and reuniting with her boyfriend, had forgotten to slip on her boots by the front door. Maybe later – when they were back at school and James undoubtedly told all of their friends about this – she would be embarrassed, but this evening she was too happy to see him.

"Cold!" She yelped and tried to climb him.

James laughed loudly, then hooked one arm behind her knees and shifted his other up her back so that he was cradling her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her face up to his. Holding her as if she weighed no more than his prized broomstick, he brought his lips down on hers again in a much longer kiss that felt to Lily like a serious effort to make up for a week apart. When he pulled away and straightened up, she buried her face in his warm, thick coat collar.

"Hey, Evans, those folks who've been watching us snog wouldn't happen to be your parents, would they?" James asked conversationally as he began carrying her back to her house.

Lily lifted her face from his neck and turned her head to find her parents standing on the front porch watching them approach. They were speaking quietly to each other and Lily had no idea what they might be saying, whether they were upset or not. She brought her mouth close to James's ear and spoke quietly, her breath undoubtedly tickling him. "Yes, those are my parents, so be on your best behavior from now on."

"You want me to behave, you stop that right now before it's a lost cause." She could hear the smile in his voice, but also the legitimate warning.

They had a tough enough time keeping their hands to themselves at school where they saw each other every day and had ample amounts of time to themselves. After a week apart it would be very difficult to keep their interactions parent-friendly. Lily chuckled in his ear, had the satisfaction of feeling his arms tense under her, and obliged by moving her mouth away from his ear to rest her forehead against his neck as he began to climb the steps to the front porch.

Her parents had stopped chatting by then and were smiling at them. Lily recognized their show smiles – they weren't sure what to think of or how to act around the boy they had just watched kiss their daughter as if they had been apart for months instead of days, the only boy she had ever brought home, the boy who had lifted her into his arms so naturally it seemed he must have always had his hands on her, but didn't want to appear rude to him. Lily locked eyes with her father and watched his eyebrows lift almost imperceptibly.

"I forgot to put on boots." She lifted one foot to wiggle her bare toes at her parents in explanation. "So James, being the gentleman that he is, gave me a lift."

James was grinning at her explanation. She couldn't see it, but she knew it was there when her mother visibly – to her eyes, anyway, if not to James's – melted a bit. Even when Lily hadn't particularly liked James less than two years ago, the sight of that grin, the pure, unadulterated joy it brought to his face, had done things to her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans, lovely to meet you," James said and Lily had to fight the urge to turn her head so she could kiss that now audible grin right off his handsome face. She settled instead for tightening her arms around his neck and titling her head so that her mouth was once more buried in his coat collar, almost as if she were kissing his neck. "I would shake your hands," he continued as if he weren't at all affected, but Lily felt his grip on her tighten, "but I might drop your daughter if I did, and I don't think we want that."

"It's nice to meet you, James." Her father stepped aside and gestured for James to go inside.

Once everyone was inside, Lily's parents and James stood in the crowded foyer for an awkward moment. Suddenly uncomfortable, Lily leapt out of his arms and landed on her feet smoothly.

Her parents looked for a moment at Lily, who stood very close to James with his arm now around her waist. Lily looked quickly at James, who met her gaze and then grinned broadly at her parents.

"Thanks so much for having me over," he said as he gripped her father's hand in a firm handshake.

"Of course!" her mother said. "Any friend of Lily's is welcome any time!"

James looked at Lily, one eyebrow arching up at the word 'friend.' She rolled her eyes quickly – her parents just didn't want to say the word boyfriend – and his lips twitched up at the corners. When she looked at her parents, she found them watching her and James with puzzled, if a bit surprised, expressions on their faces and realized that she and James had just been caught having a silent conversation the likes of which she caught her parents having earlier.

"Well, let's move this to the living room, shall we?" Mrs. Evans suggested and began herding everyone out of the foyer.

Mr. Evans bypassed his favoured chair and took a seat on the far end of the couch, and Mrs. Evans sat on the near end.

Lily sat against the arm of the loveseat opposite the couch and James settled himself right next to her, throwing his arm warmly over her shoulders as if they were lounging in front of the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room with their friends instead of visiting with her parents. She caught her father's narrow-eyed gaze on them and considered for a moment signaling for James to give her some space, but thought better of it. Not only would James get his feelings hurt – try as he might to hide it – but she would be lying if she said she hadn't missed sitting like this the past week; their relationship was an incredibly affectionate one and her parents either could deal with it or not. She met her father's gaze, pulled her feet up under her, and leaned into James's side. She wasn't going to pretend their relationship was something it wasn't just for his peace of mind.

"So," her mother said, nudging her husband to stop his glaring. "James, Lily tells us you play Quidditch."

"Yes, ma'am. Brilliant sport. Do you know much about it?" James asked and Lily knew he was eager to launch into details about his favourite pastime – well, maybe his second favourite pastime now that Lily let him kiss her and more just about whenever he wanted.

"I'm afraid not. I haven't really got a good head for sports," her mother said. "But we know there are three balls."

"The Quaffle, Bludger, and Snitch," her father supplied.

"Yes, that's right! There are two Bludgers, though," James said gently as if he were correcting a timid first year's Transfiguration essay.

"Those are the violent ones, right?" her father asked.

"Yes! They try to knock you right off your broom. Had my arm broken in three places by one earlier in the year, right Lily?"

"I think it was four," she said, smiling when her mother gasped in abject horror. "Not to worry, Mum. Madam Pomfrey is a miracle worker and had him back in order by dinner."

"I'm a Chaser," James said to her father in response to a question she missed. "I only handle the Quaffle directly, trying to get it in the other team's goals and score points, but the Beaters are always hitting the Bludgers after the other team's Chasers to knock the Quaffle loose or get the Chasers off track or even sometimes to knock a Chaser off their broom."

"Have you ever been knocked off your broom?" Mr. Evans asked.

"Not since my first game back in second year." James laughed and shook his head, glancing over at Lily. "Do you remember that?"

"Yes, you landed yourself an extended stay in the Hospital Wing," Lily said, closing her eyes and sighing as if recalling a particularly pleasant memory. "Such a peaceful few days."

"Rude," he said on a chuckle.

"Really, though. Sirius skived off all of his lessons to sit with you in the Hospital Wing the entire time and Remus and Peter, with neither of you to distract them, actually sat and took notes all day. I have never experienced such peaceful lessons at Hogwarts," Lily insisted.

"Sounds boring to me," James said, smiling when Lily rolled her eyes at him. He turned his attention back to her parents. "After spending three days in the Hospital Wing, I decided to avoid getting knocked off my broom as best I could."

"Quite right," Mrs. Evans said just as the timer went off in the kitchen. "Oh, my timer! I'll be right back. Come help me, dear."

She stood and pulled her husband to his feet, leading him toward the door, where they paused to look back at Lily and James, who seemed not at all affected to find themselves suddenly alone.

"Come on, I'll show you around," Lily said to James as they both stood. "I know you're really curious about all these Muggle objects."

James grabbed Lily's hand and used it to pull her close to him as they toured the living room.

"Bit of a… hands-on fellow, isn't he?" Mr. Evans muttered to his wife as they watched their daughter lead James around the living room, pausing to explain whenever he seemed particularly interested in something: the lamp, for one; the blank screen of the television; the photos on the wall that he prodded curiously.

"He doesn't seem to be the only one," Mrs. Evans quipped when Lily laughed and slid her arm around his waist to tug him away from the digital clock. "Come, let's leave them be."

He hesitated when his wife laid a hand on his arm. "You think we should?"

Mrs. Evans looked at him with a fond smile and shook her head. "I think they probably get much more privacy up at school. A few minutes alone here won't change a thing."

"You know Muggle photos don't move, James!" Lily laughed and took his wand out of his hand when he pretended to consider trying to make them move. "I also know you've seen Muggle photos before; I've seen Sirius's collection of pin-up models, so there's no way you haven't."

"You know that stealing a wizard's wand is serious business, Lily!" James mocked her, but made no move to take his wand back.

Until just a couple weeks ago, Lily hadn't understood it, having never seen a wand or known much about them until she was eleven, but she had been told by a few of her friends that it was a big deal, a big show of trust for someone to allow another to use their wand.

She hadn't thought anything of it the first time she had reached for James's wand because hers was stowed away in her bag at her feet. She had cast a spell – something mundane: a warming charm, probably – and handed it back to him as if it were nothing. To her, it had been nothing. But she had noticed the wide eyes of those around them afterwards and the depth of passion in James's.

A few days later, he had used her wand to clean up a spill at the breakfast table for no reason, he had said, other than because he wanted to. His wand was sitting right next to him on the table. Several people had gasped as if they'd just been privy to some lascivious act and James had smirked and given her wand back.

When she asked him about it later when they were alone in his dormitory, the curtains drawn around his four-poster, he had kissed her.

"It's a big deal," he had said quietly.

"Yeah, I get that. But why?" She had rolled her eyes, but hadn't been annoyed enough by his evasiveness to reject him when he had clasped her hand in his and brought their joined hands to rest on his bare chest.

"You got your wand at Ollivander's, right?" he had asked and shrugged when she nodded. "Did he say something along the lines of the wand chooses the wizard when you went in?"

"Witch. He said witch."

Smiling fondly, James had rolled his eyes at the correction. "Okay. Witch. Well, he wasn't just being an eccentric old man, even though he is that. The wand literally chooses the wizard. Or witch. It's sort of a sentient thing. A wand has a conscience. It has loyalty. It's loyal to its owner. Most wands don't work properly for someone if their loyalty is to someone else."

"How do you get a wand's loyalty?" she had asked.

"You win it. In a duel." He had said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. "Or it chooses you."

"But your wand worked fine for me. And mine for you."

"Sometimes… if the relationship between two people is strong enough… that could come through. The wand could, essentially, choose to have two masters."

"Oh." She had said. And then, "Oh."

They had looked at each other.

"It's a big deal," he had repeated.

And then he had stroked his fingers through her hair softly and she understood. It was so simple, really. He loved her. She loved him. It wasn't some silly, fleeting first love. It was real and their wands sensed it and shared their loyalties.

Standing in her parents' living room, Lily twirled James's wand between her fingers. He smiled at her, remembering the same conversation as she. She knew now that he liked it when she used his wand, and that he liked using hers as well. He reveled in the fact that both of their wands worked the same for each of them. It was a sort of confirmation for him that she was really with him long term. She would be lying if she said she didn't like it as well.

Still, having no use for his wand at the moment, she handed it over and watched him pocket it.

"I'm assuming Muggle houses have bedrooms, or are they all just living areas and kitchens?" he asked, desire winking in his hazel eyes.

Her parents hadn't said anything to her about James only being allowed downstairs – they hadn't had a chance – but she knew they wouldn't approve of him being up in her room. Lily narrowed her eyes at him, looked over her shoulder, and listened to make sure her parents weren't coming to check on them any time soon. She took his hand and shot him a grin she had picked up from him. It said Rules? What rules?

She didn't have to tell him to tread lightly or to skip the fourth step from the top as she led him up the stairs – the boy was a natural at sneaking around and was obviously watching where she placed her feet because she didn't hear a sound behind her on any of the creakier steps.

She rushed him past Petunia's bedroom and into hers, shutting the door stealthily behind them. She expected his hands on her instantly when the door closed but when she turned to him he was surveying her room with great interest. Her nerves surprised her until she realized that this was the first time he had ever been in her room; she had been in his dormitory countless times since they had started dating, but the spell keeping boys out of the girls' dormitories was just about the only school 'rule' he and his friends had yet to get around.

"Is it all that you dreamed of?" She leaned back against the door and watched him walk the perimeter of the room.

"Well, you're not naked on the bed, so no." He flashed her a grin and then stopped in front of her vanity to pick up her wand. He turned to her with a frown and one arched brow. "You left the house without your wand?"

She bit her lip and ducked her head, knowing he was right to be troubled. It wasn't safe for her to be unarmed in this day and age, especially not outside of her house. Hell, she probably shouldn't put her wand down when she was inside, either, since there was no protective enchantment around her parents' house to keep out unwanted visitors. The lack of protection for her parents when she wasn't around was something that bothered her more each day.

He was still frowning at her when she lifted her gaze to him, so she shrugged. "I forgot."

"You forgot your wand," he repeated blankly.

"In my haste to get my hands and mouth on you? Yes. Or have you forgotten my enthusiastic welcome? Here, let me remind you."

She launched off the door and jumped into his arms, kissing him soundly. James laughed and wrapped his arms around her, one hand sliding to her bum and the other pressing into her lower back when she twined her legs around his waist.

"Nice diversion." He smirked at her, then sighed and shook his head. "Look, I know you don't need a lecture on safety – especially not from me – but please don't leave your wand behind again. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"I won't." The tips of their noses brushed and she felt his dubious frown on her lips, saw it in his furrowed brow. "I won't. I sometimes get a bit complacent when I'm home, that's all. But I promise I won't leave the house without it again."

He wasn't satisfied by that, she knew, would only be satisfied if she never had her wand out of arm's reach. He never left his wand out of sight and Lily had a tendency to stow hers away in her bag when she didn't know she would need it. It was an argument they had had before and she knew he had the right of it given the war they would be joining as soon as they left school. It was just that she didn't like to worry her parents and if they saw her constantly carrying her wand around, they would be suspicious.

To appease him, she reached behind her and took her wand out of his hand on her lower back. She shoved her wand under the elastic hair band on her wrist and pulled her jumper sleeve down over it. It wasn't the most secure spot for it, but it would suffice until she could find a more suitable place to stow it since her pockets were not as roomy as his. "Better?"

"Much," he said, and then his mouth was hungry on hers. The hand on her bum squeezed and Lily laughed, ripping her mouth from his in the process.

He took the opportunity to lie her down on her bed and cover her body with his. His mouth ravished her neck and one of his hands slid under her jumper while the other slid up her thigh. Alarm bells rang in her mind, but it still took her a few seconds to push him away.

"We can't." She frowned when he tried to lean in and kiss her again, putting a hand against his face to keep him at bay. "I mean it. I want to, but we can't. I need my parents to like you and if they think we've shagged in my bedroom while they're downstairs making dinner, they'll hate you."

"You're right. I know." He let his head hang, neck arched dramatically, so that his forehead rested against her shoulder. His lips brushed the side of her neck when he whispered, "I just missed you so much."

Lily shivered and brought a hand up to comb through his messy hair, the other arm wrapping around his back to hug him. Her legs spread open a bit wider, forming a more secure cradle for his hips to drop into. He groaned his desire and she felt the insistent evidence of how badly he wanted her. She smiled. "I love you."

"Love you, too." He rolled off of her to lie next to her, and pulled her into his side.

She gave him – and herself – a minute to enjoy a good cuddle and then struggled against his hold to sit up. "We should go back downstairs. Or at least open the door."

James let her go with a slight frown and sat up when she swung to her feet over the edge of the bed. "Is it strange for me to say that I can't wait to go back to school?"

"No. Let's not pretend that you haven't always loved school." Lily smirked at him over her shoulder. "And I know it's not just the freedom and the boys. You genuinely love classes, mister Transfiguration prodigy."

"Not so loud!" He winked at her. "You'll damage my reputation."

Lily's hand had just closed around the doorknob when she heard her mother call her name. She looked, wide-eyed, at James. "Shit."

He stood leisurely from the bed even as Lily threw the door open and rushed to the top of the stairs where she saw her mother halfway up the stairs looking up at her with pursed lips and one arched brow.

"Come introduce James to your sister before she leaves," Mrs. Evans said curtly and turned on her heel to head back downstairs.

Disappointed in herself for already having screwed up her parents' perception of James, Lily looked over her shoulder intending to have to call out for him, only to find him standing right behind her. She jolted, forced a smile for him, and turned to lead him away.

"Hey, it's okay." He laid a hand on her shoulder as he followed her. "We can fix this."

She didn't see what he could possibly do or say to convince her parents that they hadn't gone upstairs to fool around. They had, after all, gone upstairs to snog a bit even if James had gotten sidetracked at first. She supposed it could have been worse, though. It could have been her father that came up the stairs to get her. Her parents could have burst into her bedroom. She and James could have been doing much more than kissing on her bed when her parents burst in.

After allowing herself to worry over her parents' reaction for the maybe thirty seconds it took to walk down the stairs, Lily rolled her eyes at herself. So what if her parents thought she had taken James upstairs to have a shag? She and James were adults, and her parents could get over their preoccupation with the state of her nonexistent virginity.

On the landing, Lily turned to plant a kiss on James's cheek and allowed him to slip his hand into hers. "We didn't do anything wrong." She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Now come meet my dreadful sister."

Petunia was standing near the front door, one hand on the knob, glaring at Lily when she and James rounded the corner. "Mum and Dad said I couldn't leave without meeting him."

"How dare they expect you to be polite!" Lily rolled her eyes.

Petunia ignored her sister, her blue eyes sweeping past her to settle on James. Lily watched her face, reading her reaction: the pinched mouth was likely in response to his messy hair; the narrowed, roving gaze a quick take on his exceptional height. She liked to think that the fleeting, almost indiscernible widening of the eyes before Petunia settled a disapproving glare on her features was a moment of awe at his defined jaw, handsome face, and – Lily glanced back at him to see his trademark easygoing grin – friendliest smile.

"Nice to meet you, Petunia," James said loudly as if she had actually bothered to introduce herself. He brushed past Lily, giving her hand a quick squeeze before releasing to offer her sister a handshake. "I'm James Potter."

"Pleasure." Her voice was cold and stiff and the downward turn of her mouth did nothing to hide her distinct displeasure, and she backed away from him.

When Petunia didn't accept his handshake, James let his hand drop to his side casually as if nothing had transpired. He took a step back, noting the way that Petunia was all but flat against the door.

"I've met him, Mum," Petunia announced. "Now I'm leaving. I'll be back late. Don't wait up."

Without another word, Petunia opened the door and fled. James turned to Lily, eyebrows raised, and then his gaze flicked past her and he smiled. "Must be a sister thing. Lily used to hate me too."

Lily rolled her eyes, but looked over to find her parents standing behind her in the kitchen doorway. She moved closer to swat at him playfully. "I did not. I just thought you were a prat."

"Well, I'm a prat who's going to help you do some extra-curricular research tonight, aren't I?" James retorted, flashing a book she hadn't noticed him carrying.

She read the title quickly. Charms of Defence and Deterrence. Despite her confusion, she nodded.

"We were talking just a few moments ago about which protective charms would work best on a Muggle household, so we just went to get this textbook from her room," James explained, seeing the curious expressions on her parents' faces.

For a moment, she was speechless. Was the boy a Legilimens or something? She wouldn't put it past him; he and his too-smart-for-their-own-good best friends had managed the extremely difficult and very illegal Animagus transformation back in fifth year. He could probably manage Legilimency. But no, she realized it wasn't much of a surprise that he would use this time to work on coming up with a way to ensure her safety when they were apart, to ease his mind a bit now that he knew she was likely to walk around unarmed even here.

"Protective charms?" Her father said, his narrowed gaze flicking between James's innocent face and the book in his hand. Her mother cocked her head in wonder as well. "Why would we need protective charms?"

James looked at Lily, silently questioning whether or not she had told her parents anything about the social climate in the wizarding world. She hadn't. He shrugged, shaking his head in a bemused sort of way.

"Why wouldn't you?" He looked genuinely confused and Lily found herself thankful that his years of troublemaking had given him the ability to convincingly talk his way out of just about any situation. "All magical families have protective charms over their homes. It's just an additional precaution."

"It's a bit like investing in a really good lock, Dad," Lily added. "Except free. And more effective."

"Besides," James added brightly, "it's good practice for us, learning how to protect a home. It will come in handy when we've got our own place."

Her parents' eyes widened and Lily froze. When her father scowled at James, Lily turned to look at him and saw that he looked perfectly complacent, like he was aware of what he had implied and had done so intentionally. He smiled at her and Lily leveled her most intimidating glare on him, but her stupid courageous boyfriend was not easily intimidated, not even by her.

They had only talked about moving in together once, and it hadn't been a particularly long or detailed conversation. Rather, they had been lying in his bed one lazy afternoon, laughing about something or other with the rest of the boys, when Sirius had dropped the emotional equivalent of a nuclear bomb on James.

"Keep on like that and I won't invite you to my place over Christmas," he had warned them all as they laughed at his expense.

"My parents' place," James had corrected him distractedly as he took the opportunity to slide his hand under Lily's shirt while she was busy laughing.

"Actually, I've been sneaking out to Muggle London on Hogsmeade weekends to look at flats and I've found one I really like and so I rented it." He had said it casually, like it wasn't a big deal.

James's hand had frozen – his whole body had – and Lily would have sworn his heart had stopped for a moment. When the room went completely silent, it became clear to her that Sirius getting his own place was a very big deal. At least, judging by the concerned looks Remus and Peter were shooting James, Sirius not telling James that he was getting his own place was a big deal. The two were practically inseparable and she had to admit it was difficult for her to think of a time Sirius had kept something important from James before.

"You just… got a flat?" Peter had said slowly. "Just like that? Just went out and got a flat?"

"No, I just said that I've been going out and looking every time we've been to Hogsmeade this year." She couldn't see him over the mess of James's hair, but she had practically heard him rolling his eyes.

"But did you at least tell anyone you were leaving Hogsmeade?" Remus had asked. "Or that you were looking into getting your own place?"

"No." Sirius had said, and Remus and Peter had continued questioning him, growing more and more frustrated with his simple answers as time went on. Before long, they had all three been practically shouting at one another.

The three of them had never complained about her inclusion in their group, had never moaned about her always being around, at least to her knowledge. They had never treated her like an unwanted, unnecessary fifth wheel and had acted from the day she and James had gotten together as though it was always meant to be the five of them – and maybe it was – but she had still felt as though this particular conversation wasn't for her to participate in, so she had simply lain there next to James, his hand frozen on her ribcage, and waited for him to come round.

"Come on, Prongs. Don't act like that." Sirius had rolled his eyes and chucked his pillow at them. "I'll still be over at your place all the time. You know I can't feed myself and your mum and dad would worry incessantly if I tried."

But it wasn't about his mum and dad, Lily had realized. It was about James feeling like his best friend was abandoning him, like his brother was up and leaving without a backward glance. The two of them, from the very first moment they had met on the Hogwarts Express, had been practically co-dependent. James had three best friends, but if he had to choose only one, it was no secret to anyone who he would pick.

"Besides," Sirius had said loudly, sounding as close to desperate as Lily had ever heard him, "you'll be getting a place with Red, yeah? When we're out? You'll be moving in with her, and then we'll all stop in at your parents' together and, honestly, it'll be more like we've got three homes between us. My place, your place, and your parents' place."

He had said it so matter-of-factly, like he and James had discussed it, like he knew that James and Lily were going to move in together after school. But James had grown even stiffer beside her and Lily knew that it was his first time hearing about that part of the plan as well. He had slowly turned his head to look at her, and she had seen the moment that it dawned on him that that was actually exactly what he wanted.

His eyes had turned to molten caramel and he had kissed her sweetly but not quickly, and whispered, "What do you think?"

"I think…" She had paused for a moment, kissed him again to buy some time. "I think it sounds like Sirius has our lives all planned out for us."

"Yeah?" James had said quietly, and it was more a question of her approval of Sirius's plan than anything else, she knew.

"Yeah," she had said.

James had smiled at her, and then threw Sirius's pillow back across the room, whacking him in the face none-too-gently with it. "Sneak out of Hogsmeade without telling any of us again, and I'll write you up, idiot."

That was almost a month ago and they hadn't discussed it since, so Lily hadn't realized that James seemed to have been actually planning for that future. She wasn't surprised, exactly, but she wasn't sure why on earth he had decided to announce his plans to her parents the first time he met them.

"You're not going to… set the house on fire, will you?" Her mother asked after a moment and Lily was both grateful to her for attempting to break the tension and humiliated.

"No, Mum!" she exclaimed, and knew instantly by the sudden increase in temperature that her face was blazing. "It was once, and I was twelve, and I fixed it, didn't I?"

"Actually, that Ministry fellow fixed it for you and threatened to expel you if you didn't stop doing magic away from school," her father said.

"I have to hear this story," James practically shouted, rocking forward on the balls of his feet.

"I'll tell you later," Lily said immediately, relief coursing through her when a timer started beeping in the kitchen.

"Oh, that's the potatoes!" her mother said.

"We're going to start looking through this," Lily said, taking the textbook from James and holding it up.

Her father watched them as Lily led James by the hand back into the living room, and she knew he hadn't forgotten that she had snuck James up to her bedroom or that James had announced their intention to live together after school. When Lily turned to face James in front of the sofa, expecting him to still have that lighthearted, eager look about him and for him to badger her for the story of the time she had accidentally set the house a little bit on fire, she was surprised to see concern in his eyes.

"You haven't told them?" James asked, leaning forward and bending over so that he could speak quietly enough that her parents wouldn't be able to hear if they were still listening in from the hallway. "Don't you think they ought to know?"

"That we're going to live together?" she whispered. "James, I didn't even know that. We've only talked about it once."

"Not that. You didn't even tell them you had a boyfriend until right before I got here." He rolled his eyes. "Our other… after graduation plans."

"What, that we're going to be unemployed volunteer soldiers fighting a war against horrible odds?" Lily frowned up at him when he took the book from her and set it aside on the coffee table. "It's a bit more complicated having to explain things to my Muggle parents than it is for you to explain to your parents who have known about all of the shit out there since before you were born."

She wanted to shield them from the worry, save them countless sleepless nights alone in this house while they wondered who or what was out there, imagined the horrors their youngest daughter might be facing, feared they may never see her again. If she could save them from that with a few little lies, then she would.

"You can't protect them from everything, Lily," James reminded her softly.

Sometimes, it scared her how well he knew her. She sighed and turned away from him to kneel on the floor in front of the spellbook on the table. "No, but I can shield their house."

When she shook her wand from her sleeve and made the pages of the book flutter open to the section on protective enchantments, James let the topic drop and sat himself on the edge of the sofa behind her, his long legs on either side of her body blocking her in as he read over her shoulder. After a few moments of silence broken only by the occasional rustle of turning pages, James waved his wand and a piece of parchment and her favourite self-inking quill flew down the stairs from her bedroom.

She pointed out a few spells that seemed promising and James diligently jotted them down in his frustratingly tidy scrawl.

"I haven't ever heard of this one," Lily said, pointing to a spot on the page. James set down the quill and slid off the couch to sit beside her and leaned in close over her shoulder to see what she was looking at.

"The Fidelius Charm? It's really old magic," he told her, still staring down at the book. "One of the oldest known spells, even. Extremely powerful and almost impossible to cast. Only really talented Charms Masters can achieve it. Dumbledore, likely. Possibly Flitwick. An area – a home, usually – is completely concealed and the secret of its location is given to one person only, and that is the one person who can share the secret with others. Even once you've been let in on the secret by the Secret Keeper, you can't speak of it to anyone who doesn't know. It's beyond our skillset, I'm afraid, and it's a bit too comprehensive for our needs."

"You think my parents would be too safe?" Lily's eyebrows drew together as she stared at him.

James, recognizing the tone of voice that warned of approaching anger, looked up and rolled his eyes. "Calm down. I wasn't saying they don't deserve the best protective enchantments out there. It's just that comprehensive and best are not one and the same. No one would know your parents lived here. Anyone who hadn't been told the secret wouldn't even be able to see the house. Your parents couldn't be Secret Keepers because they're Muggles, so if we were able to pull off casting Fidelius, you would probably want to be the Secret Keeper. They wouldn't be able to have guests over because you would have to meet them first and give them the secret and then they would watch a house seemingly materialize out of nowhere. It wouldn't be practical."

"Okay, okay, you're right. Sorry." Lily sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I just … now that you've got the idea in my head … I really want to find something I can do for them now."

"I know, and I think we have," James told her.

Lily lifted her head and squinted suspiciously at him. "Do you have another, better book of spells over there, Potter? We're supposed to be sharing."

"No, I don't." James laughed and shoved her hand away when she started to jokingly pat him down. He pointed down at the book they had been sharing. "Look on the next page. Salvio Hexia and Protego Totalum."

Lily read the descriptions quickly. "Salvio Hexia to protect against basic hexes. Protego Totalum to create a protective shield around a dwelling. It's a good start."

Her parents wouldn't understand why they needed protection from magic, but she just wouldn't tell them exactly what they were being shielded from. Besides, for all they knew, she and James were only practicing for when they had their own place. She rolled her eyes at the thought and kept reading.

James jotted something down and she stared at him in horror.

"Repello Muggletum?" she questioned. "The Fidelius Charm is too much, but a barrier to keep Muggles away from my Muggle parents' Muggle home in a Muggle neighbourhood? Really?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, of course not. But we can use the spell as a sort of base idea. Perhaps not a barrier against Muggles, but against people with ill will? Something to play with."

"Can you do that?" She asked, cocking her head. "Can you change a spell?"

"Sure." James shrugged. "How do you think new spells are created? You just take the useful bits of other spells and take away what you don't need, add what you do, and there you have it. It will take time to craft this one into what we need because we would have to define exactly what ill will entails and what exactly would happen to anyone who fits the bill."

"You sound like you've done it before," Lily said suspiciously.

"You think it was easy making the Maruder's Map?" James said with a small laugh. "Took us a whole year to get the first draft and then there were constant alterations that had to be made, new enchantments we had to add, some of which didn't exist so we had to create them."

She looked at him for a moment, full of wonder. Here was this boy, this tall, beautiful, athletic, intelligent, funny, popular, well-liked boy, and he spent countless hours researching and inventing spells with his three best friends so they could create a map of a school they were unlikely to ever set foot in again after they graduated. They were all just a bunch of reckless swotty idiots.

When she didn't say anything, James looked over at her and seemed very much confused by the soft look on her face. She kissed him slowly, one hand on the rug to prop herself up, the other caressing the side of his face. When she opened her eyes, he had a goofy, somewhat dazed grin on his face.

"What was that for?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Because I love you."

And she did. She loved him so much it startled her sometimes. They were only seventeen, but she still felt as though she had wasted all this time not wanting to fancy him, wanting her wanker of a best friend to be worthy of her time, time she could have been spending with James, loving James. They had the rest of their lives together, though, she had to remind herself. Countless days of James being smarter than he had any right to be, of him knowing things she didn't have to say, of the warm, comfortable, dizzying feeling she got from just sitting next to him. Millions of kisses and hours, days, years, a lifetime of curling up against his long frame, his arms around her.

But it wasn't the time for such thoughts, so she slid her hand from his face and shifted her weight to lean into his side as she turned back to the book they were sharing. He swung his arm across her shoulders, pressed his lips to the side of her head, and they continued to read.

They worked in silence for quite a while and by the time they got through the entire section of the book that would be useful to them, they had pretended at least a dozen times not to notice her parents walking past the entryway. Lily flipped the book closed and sighed, rubbing her eyes. Next to her, James stretched dramatically, his back and neck arching, arms and legs splaying, and yawned loudly. She laughed when he suddenly jumped to standing, fully of energy, and held a hand down for her.

"Shall we?" he asked.

They would cast the spells that they didn't feel the need to change, they had decided, and take their time working on the others. Those enchantments wouldn't be ready to go until after graduation, they figured, but in the meantime it would give Lily some peace of mind to know that her parents were safer, at least, than most Muggles.

She swiped her wand from the table, took his hand, and let him pull her up. She led him to the door to the back garden, then paused, looking at him worriedly. "Do you think it's okay to do this? What if the Muggles see?"

"Muggles never notice magic," James said dismissively, and sighed when she shot him a disapproving look. "Have they ever noticed the Knight's Bus? The magic that they do see they always find a perfectly Muggle explanation for. The pyramids of Egypt? Stonehenge? All magic. If they see us out there casting protective enchantments, all they're going to see is a couple of teenagers walking circles around a house. If anything, they'll think we're looking to break in."

"Maybe if it was just you, but they won't think I'm breaking in to my own house," Lily said, but he had a point. Muggles did often explain away the unexplainable. Besides, it was growing dark out and it was a bitter cold evening and snow was beginning to fall again. No one would be outside anyway. She opened the door and led him outside.

"Here, why don't you go that way and I'll work my way this way," James suggested, and they began pacing away from each other.

"Salvio Hexia. Protego Totalum. Protego Horibilis. Fianto Duri." With each step she took, she muttered another incantation and a quick, dull, shimmer of light appeared in front of her, the shield taking shape.

She reached the hedge at the side of the house, looked over her shoulder and saw that James was no longer in sight. He had either jumped the hedge or magicked his way through. She sighed, decided that there was no way she was risking jumping over the waist-high prickly hedge, and tapped it with the tip of her wand. It disappeared and she quickly stepped through, waving her wand over her shoulder so that it appeared again.

"Salvio Hexia. Protego Totalum. Protego Horibilis. Fianto Duri."

She met him at the front door. James, with his longer legs, had finished his half of the house first and waited for her there instead of continuing on and meeting her. It was a wise call on his part; she probably would have been disappointed to have taken less responsibility over her parents' safety than he had. It surprised her, protective as she was wont to be, that she wasn't dissatisfied with only having done half of the work. James was a brilliant wizard, after all, and she would be hard-pressed to think of someone she trusted more.

"I feel better now," Lily confided in him. "Now that I know they're fairly well protected."

"So do I," James told her, drawing her near to him. His concern, she knew, was mostly for her next week or so here, but she also knew that he was the type of person who would have been worried over her parents' safety even if she weren't there.

The door opened and light flooded them just as he leaned in to kiss her. Without pulling away from one another, they turned to look at her father, who blinked awkwardly out at them.

"Oh," he said. "There you are."

"We were just finishing up with our enchantments," James explained as he slid his hands from Lily's waist languidly and took a few steps back from their embrace.

"I see," Lily's father said and he seemed to contemplate something for a moment before he settled on his decision. "And do all enchantments end with a kiss?"

Lily laughed, pleased that her father actually seemed to be trying to make light of the situation. She wondered if James stating that they would be living together after Hogwarts had said something of his commitment to their relationship and had made her parents like him, or at least not think of him as some strange boy who was only after one thing.

"Only the best ones, sir." James said with an easy grin. Lily rolled her eyes and gave him a small sideways shove, but she knew her grin matched his when he slung his arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer.

It wasn't until she felt the warmth radiating off of him that she realized she was freezing her tits off. She had remembered her boots this time, but neither of them had bundled up nearly well enough, and it was only getting colder the later it got.

Her father seemed to realize this at the same time she did and gestured for them to come inside. Lily wrapped her hand around James's and dragged him inside behind her.

"Dinner's ready," her father mentioned as he closed the door behind them.

"Oh, is that why you were looking for us?" Lily asked mildly. She noticed her mother standing at the foot of the staircase, looking as though she had just come back down the stairs. Lily wondered if she had gone upstairs expecting to find James and Lily in her bedroom again.

"Yes, come along into the dining room," her mother said, gesturing awkwardly down the hall.

Lily paused briefly to kick off her boots, and then she and James followed her parents to the dining room. Her mother had plated everything on nice serving dishes: her corned beef, the delectable colcannon, a colourful fresh salad, and a pitcher of water. She sat down across the table from her father, and James took the seat next to her.

While her mother served up everyone's plates, something she did every time they had guests over, her father resumed asking James about Quidditch.

"Usually a match will last a couple hours," James told him with a shrug. "Course, there are the ones that take up the entire day. It's why we only play on weekends; it could take too long if we were to play after lessons. And then there are the rare quick games that only take a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" Her father asked, pausing a moment to thank his wife when she set a plate down in front of him. "How does that work?"

"The game always ends when the seeker catches the snitch," Lily said.

"So, if it's a slow snitch and a quick seeker, they could catch it in the first couple minutes," James added. "Doesn't happen often because you usually want to score as many points as possible before you end the match to rack up your points for the Quidditch cup. That and it's dead boring if it's over before it really begins."

He pulled a dreadful, tortured look, and Lily laughed at him, reaching over to pat his knee under the table. "I remember you nearly cried when Martin caught the snitch in the first five minutes of the game against Hufflepuff last year."

James threw his head back and groaned like he was having the life sucked out of him. "I told him not to catch the snitch until we had a good lead over them." He leaned back when Lily's mother set an overflowing plate before him, smiled up at her. "Thank you."

"It's not like it affected our standings. Hufflepuff has never been an actual contender for the cup." Lily rolled her eyes when he stared at her in horror. "You're so dramatic. Thanks, Mum."

"I am not being dramatic," James insisted. "It wasn't about Hufflepuff. It was about getting more points on the leaderboard! We only went up by one-fifty when we could have gone up by at least three hundred and put a decent gap between Slytherin and us. Instead, we dropped below them and needed to wallop them in the final!"

"Which we did," Lily reminded him. "And won."

"Yes, but that's not the point!" James said, gesticulating wildly now as he was wont to do when he grew impassioned. "The point is that instead of focusing on catching the snitch in the final, Martin had to focus on stopping Regulus from catching the snitch and keep track of the score so he didn't mess up and end the game before we had enough points to win the cup."

"But we did win the cup," Lily said.

"I know! But we could easily have won the game and still lost the cup and it would have been all Martin's fault."

"But we won both, James," Lily said.

James made a strangled sound in his throat and his shoulders hunched over as if he were in immeasurable pain. When he pressed his fingertips against his eyelids and knocked his glasses askew, Lily smirked. Across the table, her father looked on with amusement as her mother grew more and more confused.

"Love," James finally said in a strained voice. "I'm aware that you're actively trying to frustrate me, but it's working a little too well. Can you please stop?"

Lily laughed and reached over to pat his thigh. When she leaned into him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, he gave her a warning look. Not in front of your parents, you impossible girl, she practically heard him say.

"So sorry, dear," Lily said innocently, giving his leg another little taunting squeeze under the table before she pulled away and picked up her fork. "Let's dig in, yeah?"

"Yes, this looks amazing, thank you so much," James said, picking up his fork as well.

"You are very welcome," her mum said, looking delighted when James began eating with great enthusiasm.

For a while, there was little conversation besides small pleasantries. Then, when everyone had nearly cleared their plates, James spoke up again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans," he said, nudging Lily's foot under the table and sparing her a slight wink, "I would love it if you would tell me how Lily set the house on fire."

"You…!" Lily choked and kicked him in the shin.

"Ow!" he complained, reaching down to massage his leg.

"Lily!" her mother chided while her father tried to pretend he wasn't laughing.

"I told you I would tell you later!" Lily said, ignoring her parents as she glared at her boyfriend.

"You were never actually going to tell me, though! I know your tricks! You would only distract me every time I brought it up until I forgot all about it if I waited for you to tell me!" he accused. "You know plenty of my embarrassing moments! Hell, you've witnessed most of them!"

"That is beside the point!" she protested. "I've never asked you to relive any of those moments!"

James scoffed and leveled an incredulous stare at her. "Are you going to look me in the eye and pretend that you didn't actively make fun of me for weeks after Peter's spell backfired in Transfiguration and I ended up completely bald for a few hours back in fourth year?"

Lily bit her lip, unsuccessfully trying to hide her giggle. She had in fact teased him horrendously for what was probably closer to a couple months, but she simply couldn't help herself. As much as she had tried to convince herself that his hair was stupid for years, she'd been forced to admit to herself even back then that he just wasn't Potter without the hair. She had taken perhaps a bit too much pleasure in those few hours he had looked truly awkward. Even now that she loved him, the memory still made her feel almost giddy.

"I was trying to levitate a pillow onto my bed. I was making my bed, you see, magically. My entire bed caught fire rather abruptly and when I tried to put it out it just spread even quicker," she said in a very quiet rush.

"Scared us half to death," her father added.

"Scared us even more when the Ministry fellow just appeared in the middle of her room and set it all to rights," her mother said.

"And then the fellow scared Lily to tears, saying that if she ever did magic outside of school again, she'd be expelled forever and have her wand snapped in half," her father said.

James was smirking when he turned to her, but he quickly adopted a more stoic expression when he saw the warning glare Lily was sending him. He cleared his throat and tried to cover the amused twitch of his lips by speaking.

"You know, they don't really do that," he said in what he clearly meant to be a conversational tone. In truth, his voice was a little on the high, tremulous side as he repressed laughter. "Expel you and snap your wand. Not unless you do something really awful like purposely expose a bunch of unsuspecting muggles to magic. They just threaten muggleborns with it because you can't have a bunch of kids running around waving their wands all freely in the muggle world."

"I bet you got to do magic all the time when you were away from school, even before you turned seventeen," Lily grumbled at him.

"I never said it was fair." He reached for her hand on the table, twined their fingers together and stroked his thumb along the back of her hand. "And I'm sure it was terrifying to be threatened that way your first summer back from school."

"Did you ever set anything on fire?" Mr. Evans asked, looking at James.

"Oh, loads of times," James said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"He means by accident," Lily told him.

"Oh, well. In that case…" There was an amused twinkle in his eyes when he winked at her. "Maybe once or twice."

Her parents looked a bit concerned at that – was the boy a pyromaniac? But Lily and James were exchanging very amused glances like it was nothing that he'd just casually admitted to starting fires on purpose. Perhaps it wasn't a big deal in their world.

Lily laughed quietly; she remembered many a time James and his friends had caused explosions and mild fires in classes as either pranks or distractions, but he hadn't done anything like that since fifth year. Besides, a small fire in the back of the Charms classroom was nothing for Professor Flitwick to fix.

Mrs. Evans stood and began to gather the dishes from the table. "I'll just clear this up before pudding, shall I?"

James stood quickly. "No, don't trouble yourself. I'll clear this up."

Mrs. Evans started to protest, but Lily shook her head with a small smile. "We'll take care of it, Mum."

James and Lily made quick work of cleaning up the dishes in the dining room, charming them into neat little stacks and sending them gliding gently through the air to the kitchen, where they charmed them to wash and dry themselves. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Evans served up four dishes of a scrumptious pudding, smiling softly as they listened to their daughter giggle as James struggled to make sense of the dish organization in the cabinets. If nothing else, at least they could see that the boy made Lily happy.

They came back in both glowing happily, James following closely behind Lily as if he couldn't bear to be more than a few inches from her. Not now that their time together tonight was drawing to a close. They both knew that after dessert came goodbye, and there was no guarantee yet that they would see each other again before they headed back to school.

Mrs. Evans sat a dish of pudding in front of Lily and a substantially larger serving in front of James as they took their seats again. It was all James could do to wait until Lily's parents both had their forks in hand before he dug in. He acted as if he'd never tasted anything so delightful in his life. If Lily didn't know that he ate just about every dessert with as much gusto, she might have thought he was just kissing up to her mother.

"A fan of a good pudding, eh?" Mr. Evans said with a slight chuckle.

James grinned unabashedly and nodded. As eagerly as he tended to devour his dessert, he never did so with a lack of basic table manners, so Lily's parents found his enthusiasm endearing rather than repulsive.

"James usually eats pretty healthy because of Quidditch," Lily told her parents. "But about once a week he'll lose control over a whole platter of treacle tarts."

"A whole platter?" Mrs. Evans said. "Shall I get you a second serving?"

"I really shouldn't, thanks." James grinned over his empty plate. "But you should see me in Honeydukes."

"The sweet shoppe in Hogsmeade," Lily explained when her parents looked intrigued. "I swear, he buys about a ton of sweets every time we go down there."

"And what is a magical sweet shoppe like?" Mr. Evans asked.

"Oh, Dad, don't get him started." Lily rolled her eyes good-naturedly even as James brought his finger to her lips and playfully shushed her.

"Mr. Evans, sir, you have never seen such wonder," James began before launching into a longwinded, incredibly detailed description of the inside of Honeydukes and all the sweets they offered there.

Lily watched him fondly for a moment before her mother caught her attention.

"Did Petunia tell you that she expects Vernon to propose soon?" her mother said quietly so as not to disturb the boys. Lily thought she probably could have shouted it and her father wouldn't have even blinked from James's compelling descriptions.

"Petunia doesn't tell me anything, Mum," Lily said with a small frown.

"She thinks he's doing it tonight," her mother continued in a tone that wasn't quite full of sarcasm, but was clearly forced enthusiasm.

"Well, isn't that brilliant," Lily said, and her tone was dripping in sarcasm. "Congratulations to the happy couple."

"Lily, she's your sister," her mother reprimanded softly.

"She's a mannerless, trifling hag," Lily grumbled, and crossed her arms over her chest as she settled deeper into her seat.

James, still waxing poetic about all of the sweets her father had never seen before, slid his hand over her thigh beneath the table, giving her leg a warm, comforting squeeze. His gaze briefly slanted toward her when her father asked him a clarifying question, and she leaned in closer to him. Her mother let the conversation drop, instead rising to carry the dirty dessert dishes to the kitchen.

"I should probably be going," James said when Mrs. Evans walked back into the room, a regretful note to his voice when he looked at Lily. It was difficult for him to not be able to see her everyday, to just walk down a flight of stairs and find her seated in front of a roaring fire, or to wake up in his four-poster and find her next to him, her brilliant hair fanning across his pillow and over his biceps.

She frowned at him, feeling rather sad to have to say goodnight to him herself. Lily missed walking down the long corridors with him at night, pulling each other into a broom cupboard and losing herself in him like they were supposed to be stopping other students from doing. She wished he didn't have to go, that he could stay here with her. As much as she loved her parents, it was dreadfully boring to be home sometimes, completely separated from all the magic she had grown accustomed to. That, and any world in which James Potter was not constantly accessible to her was plain miserable.

The four of them gathered in the foyer, much like they had when James had first arrived. Only, this time James was pulling on his coat instead of hanging it on the rack and Lily was frowning, on the verge of pouting, instead of beaming and vibrating with excitement.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. When I told my parents I would be meeting you, they got very excited and a bit jealous and made me promise to invite Lily over for dinner," James said very suddenly, turning to level a hopeful look on her parents. "Lily's told me that in the Evans household, Christmas holidays are traditionally spent just with the family, but they'd really love to meet her. If you want to, that is."

He looked at her with wide, inviting eyes, one eyebrow quirked questioningly. Her heart skipped a beat and it was all she could do to hide just how badly she wanted to snog him senseless.

"You mean before we go back to school?" she asked, and bit her lip to keep from betraying her mischievous smirk when he nodded. James's parents had left out of the country on business early that morning and wouldn't be back until the night before the Hogwarts Express left. "Yes, I would absolutely love to have dinner with your parents."

"Is that alright with you, Mr. and Mrs. Evans?" James asked, turning his innocent gaze back to them.

Her parents looked at one another and Lily rolled her eyes. James caught her eye and gave her a warning look – don't mess this up, Evans. Instead of sending him an apologetic look, she rolled her eyes again, more dramatically so that she almost gave herself a headache. Suppressed laughter twinkled in his gaze and they both turned back to her parents before they were caught having another silent conversation. She nearly laughed when instead she and James caught her parents doing the very same.

It was almost funny that they actually thought they had a say in the matter. Lily was going to this "dinner with James's parents" whether they thought it was a good idea or not. Not that she thought they would have a problem with it, really. They had, after all, just hosted a dinner for James and Lily was certain that they approved of him wholeheartedly.

"That would be fine," Mr. Evans said after a moment, his conversation with his wife ending so suddenly that even Lily was a bit taken-aback. He looked at James, who had schooled his face into that uncanny innocent expression once more. "When did they want to have her over?"

"Oh, they didn't specify a day," James said. "They're really not busy, though, so any day would work, I'm sure."

"Tomorrow?" Lily suggested, her eagerness hidden behind wide, innocent eyes and a soft, easy smile. James smirked somewhat proudly and more than a little smugly.

"You've got to give them time to prepare, love. I'm sure tomorrow is far too soon." Mrs. Evans issued her daughter a gentle reprimand, a reminder to be a courteous guest as well as a reminder that she hadn't given her parents enough time to prepare for James to come over, an issue James was not at fault for.

"Really, it's fine," James assured her. "If tomorrow works for you, it will work for my parents as well."

Lily wanted to throw her fists in the air and scream in triumph or maybe do a hearty little jig about the foyer when her parents relented.

"Well, if it's really okay with your parents…" Lily's mother said.

"It is," James cut in eagerly. Lily clenched her teeth in a concentrated effort not to smile at him, and they both avoided meeting her parents' gazes.

"Then, fine. Tomorrow is fine," Mrs. Evans finished.

"Brilliant!" Beaming, James turned to Lily. "I'll pick you up for five?"

She wanted to frown at him and demand he come for her earlier, but he'd said dinner and if her parents weren't already suspicious they certainly would be if he offered to pick her up for dinner first thing in the morning. "That's perfect."

"Mum's going to be so excited." James's eyes twinkled with mischief as he gazed down at her before he forced himself to turn back to her parents. "It was a pleasure to meet you both. Thank you so much for having me over."

"It was lovely meeting you, James," Mrs. Evans said, charmed when he shook her hand warmly. "I hope you'll come for another visit before you go back to school."

"Oh, absolutely!" he said. "I'd love to!"

"Have a good night, James," Mr. Evans said, impressed by the firm handshake he received from the tall boy before him who was standing very close to his daughter. "Don't be a stranger."

"Thank you, sir. I'll bring some of the Fizzing Whizbees you were so curious about when I come for Lily tomorrow," James promised.

"Really? That would be fantastic!" Mr. Evans said enthusiastically.

For a moment, the four of them stood awkwardly in the foyer. Lily stared expectantly at her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Evans stared at James, and James pretended to study the wall clock over the coat rack. Mrs. Evans suddenly caught Lily's gaze – her eyes were steadily narrowing into a mild glare – and jolted in realization. She gripped her husband by the elbow and tugged him away.

"Come, dear, let's go straighten the dining room," she said in a much too chipper tone.

"We've already done that," Mr. Evans huffed, but allowed himself to be towed into the room.

James was already reaching for her, quietly chuckling, when Lily turned her body into him; he folded her into his arms, tightening his grip when he felt her rock up on the tips of her toes to press herself closer.

"You know, I actually would like to have dinner with your parents one day," she whispered into his ear.

"Yeah?" She felt his smirk against her neck. When he pulled away, his eyes were dancing with mirth. "Because you can't wait to have them tell you all my embarrassing stories you haven't witnessed first hand or because it's a big thing, meeting the parents?"

"Both," Lily said, and kissed him. Then, she laughed against his lips. "But mostly for the stories."

"I love you," he grinned and kissed her properly and they both were lightheaded and lighthearted and smiling when they pulled apart.

When he Disapparated with a loud crack right there in the foyer and she turned away still with that dreamy grin on her face, she didn't even notice her parents watching her glide her way to the stairs from the door to the living room, practically floating on that familiar weightless feeling he always brought to her life.

Mrs. Evans turned to her husband with an elated smile when Lily called a distracted good night over her shoulder from halfway up the stairs. "Our little girl's in love."

"Bloody wonderful," Mr. Evans grumbled, but he knew his wife wasn't fooled; in fact, her smile only widened.

That James Potter was a good boy, and it was clear their daughter wasn't the only one in love there. The way he'd hardly been able to take his eyes off her even when he'd been so patiently and masterfully explaining the details of Quidditch and magic sweets to him it was clear that none of the other great passions in his life even held a candle to Lily.

Mrs. Evans twirled away from him and into the kitchen to fix a cuppa, humming happily for their younger daughter. When he sat back down in his favoured blue recliner to wait for her, he was smiling too as he thought of the besotted expression on his not-so-little-anymore girl's face.

Well, he thought, she certainly picks them better than Petunia.

#jily #jily fanfiction #jily fic #established relationship jily #seventh year jily #james potter #lily evans #lily potter #this is pure pure fluff with not a whole lot of plot fyi

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tuanyiems · 4 years ago

Text

The Spirit of Christmas

Jaebum x Reader holiday!au, roommate!au words: 2.8k

Plot: You are sugar and spice and everything nice and your roommate, Jaebum is coal—at least, that’s how it seems at first glance. With the pandemic and Christmas Eve coming to an end, maybe it’s not just Jaebum that needs a little Christmas spirit.

a/n – guess whose household got covid in time for Christmas? 2020 hates me lol anyways, I said I was going to post a Jackson holiday au but that was taking too long, I’ll post it next Christmas lmao here is jb and his kitties in the meantime <3 happy holidays folks, stay safe and merry and I’ll meet you in the new year

“What is that?” Jaebum looks at you incredulously as you carry an armful of green into his living room. You let it fall onto the floor, much to his annoyance and his cats’ pleasure. Nora flops onto her belly, rubbing against the green sticks.

“It’s our Christmas tree!” you grin, running your fingers through the fur of her belly and earning a nip to your fingers. You giggle at the tickle of her teeth on your thumb. Despite her feisty disposition, Nora very rarely ever bites for real.

“That’s a pile of plastic,” your roommate plops himself on the couch, feet thrown over the coffee table.

Your mouth twists as you push the ottoman closer to him with a gentle push of your fuzzy sock-clad feet. Jaebum glances at the bright yellow ottoman you brought into the apartment when he told you about a million times that the thing was a waste of money (and a neon eyesore). He then looks over at your feet looking awfully like a red stocking, and he truly does mean the awful part. He keeps his feet on the coffee table and leans back into the couch, arms behind his head.

“It’s a Christmas tree,” you emphasize, lifting his legs with a huff onto the ottoman. You dust your hands before placing them onto your hips. “And you’re going to help me put it up!”

He frowns, looking into your eager eyes. “Remind me why I moved in with you again?”

“Because I had a spare room and you needed someone willing to live with five cats,” you answer easily like you always do. You throw one of the plastic limbs at him. “Now come on, let’s get festive!”

“Your festive and my festive are very different,” Jaebum sighs, but he gets up anyways.

“Noted,” you chuckle, clearing a space on the floor for him to sit beside you.

You grab your phone to turn on your playlist, lovingly titled “HO! HO! HO!iday Cheer” and immediately you can see Jaebum’s face sour at the familiar jingle as Mariah Carey’s voice echoes through the room.

“Oh, we’re going with my festive, just so you know,” you warn him belatedly. He blows at his bangs, shoulders slumping in surrender.

“Let’s just get this over with before my ears start bleeding,” he grumbles, grabbing hold of a couple plastic limbs.

“That’s the spirit!” you cheer, slapping him on the back. You don’t miss the small twitch of his lips.

You had a lot of hopes for this year, all of which pretty much went down the drain. That was life though, you rolled with the punches. But you certainly did not expect that when you opened your home to Jaebum and his five cats, that just two weeks after, he would be your only social life for the next nine months (if you didn’t count your biweekly grocery outings).

And while you have nothing against Jaebum—in fact, you absolutely love his five cats—it doesn’t take a genius to tell that the two of you are very different. Jaebum’s black on black fashion, motorcycle riding, sterling silver face piercing-self, next to your pastel, soft knit cardigan-wearing, always smelling like bread and daisies…the two of you are a walking metaphorical neon sign flashing “opposites!”

“Why does that matter? He’s going to be my roommate, not my husband!” you had shrugged Jinyoung’s warning without a second thought.

That memory would come back to bite you during the first three months of shared living, for every time he woke you up from his random 3am showers or played horror movies in the living room right before your bedtime, and especially whenever he responded to your silly jokes with a deadpan face or worse, his unrelenting despondency.

Over time though, you learned how to read him—like how he was nicer after a cup of coffee or how he has trouble sleeping but always manages to fall asleep on the living room couch when you’re baking bread in the open kitchen. You’ve learned that when Jaebum scowls, it’s mostly just a reflex and actually, if you can catch a reflection whenever he’s looking away, usually he’s smiling. And although he will grumble about it the entire way through, if you ask for help, he will always be there (even when he tells you he won’t).

Maybe you both express yourselves differently. You say “I love you” and he will ask “Did you eat yet?” You bake cupcakes and have teatime on the porch with the older neighbors, Jaebum installs cameras and buys extra essentials whenever you go grocery shopping together. You fill the windowsills with abandoned plants and bring them back to life, Jaebum leaves cat food and old blankets in your backyard for the strays.

No one else understands when you tell them you think you and Jaebum might be the same person, but they haven’t seen him the way you have over the last nine months. Beneath his hardboiled exterior is a sensitive soul who loves quietly and cares a lot.

“There’s no point in putting this up,” Jaebum grumbles as he fits another limb into the trunk of the tree. “No one’s even gonna see it, it’s already Christmas Eve. Anyways, the Christmas party is canceled.”

“You will see it. I will see it,” you hand him another part. “Isn’t that reason enough?”

“It’s a waste of electricity,” he adds, not even glancing at you.

“The lights I bought have a timer!”

“And then it’ll be more work taking it down again.”

With a pout, you stand up and Jaebum turns his head in surprise.

“Where are you going, it almost done?”

Your frown easily twists back into a smile, seeing the way he hurries to put the last limb into the tree. “Time for the decorations!”

Jaebum rolls his eyes and looks down again and you can just tell he’s hiding another smile. You hurry off into your bedroom to grab the supplies.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!” you sing as you reenter the living room and Michael Bublé’s voice rings from your phone. Twirling in an oversized pajama pullover (which might be Jaebum’s that got lost in your laundry three months back), you settle the box of ornaments on the floor. “I’m so excited to show you!”

He looks at you blankly, waiting for you to continue.

You squeeze your shoulders together, excitement barely contained as you reach into the box and pull out an emerald velvet pouch.

“It came in the mail just in time!” you grin, clutching the bag to your chest.

He lifts his brow at you, but the rise of his cheekbones gives him away.

“Ta da!” you squeal, pulling round orbs out of the bag. “One of my co-workers has a side business making custom ornaments and I got one for each of the cats!”

“Woah,” Jaebum takes one of the ornaments into his palms, eyeing it closely.

You bite your lip, holding in a satisfied giggle lest you ruin the moment. He sits quietly, admiring each ornament of the cats. When he gets to the last one, you pull out one more orb from the bag, holding it up by its gold, glittering string.

“And I got one of us too,” you say quietly, showing it off to him.

He slides closer, nose practically touching the ornament. It’s a simple, clear bulb and inside are your figurine versions, dusted with glittering snow around a Christmas tree.

Finally, Jaebum breaks into a smile, eyes disappearing into crescents. You find yourself letting out a breath you had been holding.

“They even got my cheek piercings,” he chuckles, pointing to the tiny orb. “And your derpy smile too!”

“Hey, my smile isn’t derpy!” you whine, smiling.

“It’s cute,” he adds and you falter, wondering if he means the ornament or your smile. But in true Jaebum fashion, he doesn’t explain himself and turns back to the cat ornaments. “This is really well made.”

You ignore the pulsing in your chest, nodding your head. “Yeah, I told her she should raise her prices.”

He gets up from the floor and offers you his hand. “Let’s put them up.”

Cheeks flushing, you let him help you up.

“Do you think it’s okay though? The cats might knock them down,” his brows furrow with worry.

You chuckle, grabbing the ornament from his hand and hang it off the tree. “Pretty things are meant to be shown and if it breaks…then we’ll get new ones!”

Jaebum rolls his eyes at your optimism but a small smile stretches across his face. “I think your co-worker would be offended to hear how you treat her work.”

You shrug, crouching down to Nora and Odd as both cats swat at the ornament hanging precariously off your finger. “Art should not belong behind glass walls. They’re meant to be seen and enjoyed, like your music!”

You giggle as Odd jumps into your lap, pawing at the shiny orb as you lift it out of reach each time. You miss the way Jaebum looks at you.

“Okay, less playing and more decorating,” he replies, throwing a string of gold tinsel at your head, much to the cats’ delight. You laugh at their excitement, glancing at Jaebum’s reddened ears.

Humming to the Christmas jingles, you stand alongside Jaebum, dressing the plastic tree in glittering ornaments and lights. Once in a while, you even catch Jaebum swaying to the music when he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

“Aaand,” Jaebum lifts the shining star from the box to you and you rise onto your tiptoes.

“Done!” You cheer, placing the star on the top of the tree. You clap gleefully, elbowing Jaebum to follow. He gives you three limp claps before you give up and crouch down to Odd instead, forcing the kitty to clap paws.

“Okay, can I go to my room now?”

“Not yet!”

He groans, plopping onto the couch. “What else is there left to put up?”

You pout, hands on your hip. “We can’t have a Christmas tree without the Christmas tree lighting ceremony!”

He sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “There’s a ceremony?”

“Of course there is!” you laugh, rushing towards the light switch. You flick the switch without warning, covering the living room in darkness.

With only the light from the streetlamp peeking through the windows, the falling snow is even more visible. The sight fills you with childlike excitement.

“Are you ready?” you whisper, walking over to the switch for the Christmas lights.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“We need to count down,” Your lips jut out at his indifference as you eye his dark figure. In the darkness, you can just barely see his features, but you imagine he is rolling his eyes at you.

Just as you are about to give in, you hear him sigh loudly, “Five,”

You break into a smile, “Four, three, two,”

“One…”

“Merry Christmas!” you sing, twisting the knob and flooding the room with small twinkling lights.

But you don’t look at the tree. Instead, your gaze remains in Jaebum’s direction and you watch as the lights illuminate his face. And you are pleased to see he is smiling. You know it’s just the reflection of the lights, but he looks like he has stars in his eyes.

Sensing your gaze, Jaebum looks at you and frowns, embarrassed. “What?”

You smile, cheeks warming. “Your cheek piercing looks like it’s twinkling from here.”

“Don’t be weird,” he scowls. “Are we done now?”

“Do you want hot chocolate?” you offer, moving over to sit next to him on the couch.

He shakes his head, getting up. “I’m going to bed.”

Chuckling, you let him leave, watching as the cats follow behind him. “Merry Christmas, Jaebum!”

“It’s not Christmas yet!” he yells back before you hear the sound of his bedroom door closing shut.

With a quiet sigh, you grab your phone from the coffee table and turn off the music. The silence feels even quieter with only the lights from the Christmas tree flickering around the room. Without anyone else in the room, your energy quickly depletes.

Outside, the snow whips by in flurries.

This is not how you imagined you’d be spending your favorite holiday, although the festive lights do make you feel a little bit better.

You wanted the Christmas gatherings though.

You were a family person through and through.

You missed it all—the packed house, cooking dinner with the aunties, playing board games with the little cousins, throwing said boardgame across the room when you rage quit, making up for it with freshly baked cookies that you’d nibble on at midnight while opening gifts by the Christmas tree. You even missed the nagging from your parents, asking when you’ll get a boyfriend and settle down.

Snuggling closer into the arm of the couch, you hug yourself.

It’s colder this year.

Emptier.

“So, you turn off the Christmas music after I leave?” You jump in surprise at Jaebum’s voice entering the room again. He takes a seat next to you on the couch. “You listen to it just to annoy me, don’t you?”

You blink back, wondering why he returned. “Did you forget something?”

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch and gazes at the Christmas tree. “It’s my first Christmas tree, I thought I should look at it a little longer.”

“This is your first Christmas tree?” you look at him in surprise.

He nods nonchalantly. “Never really celebrated Christmas.”

You sink into your seat, thigh touching his. “What a year to start celebrating.”

“Only because you have me hostage.”

You chuckle softly. “Well, I’m glad you had no choice but to be stuck with me. Would’ve been a lonely year without you here.”

“Hmm,” he looks at you thoughtfully. “Never pegged you as the lonely type.”

“The holidays can do that.”

“Then just think like me, pretend it’s any other day.”

You sigh, leaning into Jaebum. He doesn’t scoot away like he normally does. Instead, you find his arm resting around your shoulder.

“I don’t want this to be any other day though. This whole year has been a blur of any other days.” Your lips jut out in a pout as you look up at your roommate. “I know I must sound like a child, but I want Christmas.”

Jaebum laughs softly. You can feel the rumble of his chest.

“Cute,” he mutters, and you flush. His arm around you pulls you tighter. “Then, do you want to open your present at midnight or in the morning?”

Your eyes widen and he laughs at your expression once more. “You got me a present?”

“Well, yeah,”

“But…you said you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“But you do,” he answers easily, looking at the tree again. “And anyways, if you’re gonna make me do all the work, I might as well celebrate the whole thing, right?”

You grin, poking his chest. “Admit you had fun tonight, Jaebum.”

He shrugs, smiling. “The ornaments were cool. I’ll be the DJ next time though.”

“Deal,” you beam, holding out your pinky. You giggle when he looks at your outstretched pinky with an arched brow. You keep your hand raised though. “Come on!”

He lets out a loud breath but eventually curls his pinky around yours.

Your heart warms, seeing how big his pinky measures around yours. It’s why when he moves to let go, you keep your pinky curled.

Laughing at his confused frown, you show him your thumb. “You have to seal the promise, Jaebum!”

“You’re an actual five-year-old,” he groans.

“Yes, I am,” you grin, eyes curling into crescents. His tone doesn’t faze you. From up close, you can confirm that there are indeed, stars in his eyes. They twinkle in amusement at your gesture and his lips lift once more when his thumb presses against yours.

And this time, he doesn’t pull away.

Pursing your lips shyly, you let your hand fall to his lap.

Looking back up at him, his gaze is soft on you. You pretend not to notice the way his fingers thread around yours.

“To answer your question, I’d like my present at midnight.”

“As you wish. Then shall we make hot chocolate and watch a movie until then?”

“Sounds like the perfect Christmas,” you tell him softly.

“Okay, Joker or The Dark Knight? You can pick.”

You grin, squeezing his hand. “We’re gonna watch Home Alone, Jaebum.”

“You’re terrible,” he feigns.

Chuckling, you let go of his hand and rise from the couch. “I’ll go make the hot chocolate.”

Jaebum grabs your hand again and you turn back curiously.

“Hm?”

His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Jaebum.”

#got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #im jaebum #holiday au #roommate au #fanfic #fluff

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kimshavacado · 5 years ago

Text

Dead Heat Ch. 9

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Well this is the one where they have unprotected sex. So... yeah.

A/N: Welp. Here you go. I couldn't stand to reread it so I hope it's adequate. I'll see you all in hell.

Chapter 9: Don’t You Want Tea?

Jimin has done a lot less thinking lately. At least when it comes to thinking about you. Since his failed attempt to reach out to you, his mind has been dwelling on simpler things. Overthinking had always been your job, so he wasn't used to feeling a loss of purpose. If he wasn't there for you, what was he even doing here? Sitting on the rail of the fire escape of the loft he's currently squatting, he thinks instead about the distance in between himself and the ground. It's only about 15 meters, but plenty far enough to do some damage should he fall. The question is whether or not it would hurt. His optimism says that it won't, and that his relief would be immediate. Would you even know if he did? Maybe eventually, but by then would you really care? "If you're gonna jump, make sure you tell me first. Someone's gotta clean it up." Hoseok says from inside. It's meant to be a joke, but neither of them laugh. "I'm not gonna jump." Jimin responds, annoyed. He takes one last look at the ground before throwing his legs back over to the correct side and hoping down. "You haven't been checking your phone, have you?" Hoseok says. "We gotta go, the war is afoot!"

To save yourself from the embarrassment of waking up with Yoongi after last night, you yeet yourself out of bed as soon as you're conscious. The sun has just come up so you decide to wander around the house. When you come across a patio that you weren't able to see last night, you slide open the doors to meet the cold morning air. The cool breeze and soft light from the low sun give off a mood just ethereal enough to take your mind off of everything. You lean over the rail of the patio that overlooks the downslope of a hill that the house appears to be built on. Honestly, these are your favorite kind of mornings. Warm sheets, cool air, bright sun, nice views, the only thing that's missing is a good cup of tea. While your wrapped up in your appreciation of your surroundings, you don't notice the man who has joined your company. In his search for you, he finds the patio door ajar and leans against the frame to observe you in your natural habitat. You appear to be relishing in the pure bliss of the moment and Yoongi can’t help but think that he could get used to mornings like this.

This is what brings Yoongi to start thinking about your relationship. He’s always been someone who other people find to be cold and unmoving, and he used to think that you thought this way about him too, at least that’s what he’d gathered from all the times you’ve yelled at him. But sometimes you can be warm, kind, and unconditionally accepting of him, which is something that he’s never been able to say about anyone in a long time.

And that scares the living hell out of him.

Both of you live in a world where things don’t generally work out in anyone’s favor, and hell, he’s not even sure how you feel about him when you’re sober, but looking at you on the patio right now feels like a little slice of peace in the messy pie that is his life and he never wants that peace to end. Of course, that’s not a completely realistic sentiment but that doesn’t mean that you two can’t try.

In his frustration, Yoongi unintentionally lets out a small sigh that gets you to turn around abruptly. Now, the appropriate response would probably be to awkwardly apologize and dip out of the doorway as soon as possible, but Yoongi must be having some sort of an out of body experience because he kind of just stands there with his mind blank and mouth open for a second. You too have a knack for awkward silence, so you stand there and stare at his dumb face.

He seems to be having a war in his head because he looks away from you and suddenly closes his mouth to gain his composure. And eventually he does apologize for interrupting your morning but he clearly doesn’t mean it because he’s on you in a second. It’s so alarming that you don’t even notice Yoongi is kissing you for the first few moments, but when you do, it only feels natural to reciprocate.

With the sun behind you and Yoongi’s body closing the gap, the cold morning air doesn’t cut your skin as sharply as it did before. In fact, as your kiss deepens, it almost feels like your body is overheating, and you feel this warmth travel down your spine even though Yoongi is barely touching you.

You’re perfectly content to continue, and Yoongi is the one who pulls away, but only a few inches. As you look into his eyes, you feel a tinge of embarrassment sneak up on you. Most of the time that you two have shared your affections you’ve been drunk off your asses.

“Look,” Yoongi pulls you back out of your thoughts. “I’m not really good at these kinds of things.” He gestures in between your bodies. “I know you were thrown into this shitty situation out of nowhere, so I get it if you…like…” He huffs out in frustration and looks away from you. “I don’t know. I just… feel like this could work?” He looks to you expectantly.

You stand in awe of his sudden confession and it feels like all that heat manifests itself again. With your cheeks painted red, the only response that you are able to come up with is to reach out and reconnect your lips. In doing so, you’ve moved the both of you closer to the doorway inside and Yoongi uses this to his advantage. Since your hands are on his face, his take claim over your hips and he spins you around, pinning you against the glass on the open door.

Not so long ago this would’ve felt insane, but all you can think about is how secure you feel under Yoongi’s hold and how you two have waited so long to bond in this way. Again, Yoongi cuts your thoughts short by closing the distance between your bodies. This time, however, his hips sit more firmly against yours and you’re finally able to feel all of him.

It seems impossible, but somehow the kiss gets more intense and it feels like you’ve begun a wrestling match with your tongues and teeth. It must be the pent up frustration from both of you when he left you hanging before. It definitely affects him too because his hands slip a little bit lower and underneath your shirt to feel your bare sides. You gasp into his mouth and he smirks against yours and you swear it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen him do.

You’re starting to get addicted to the shivers he gives you and use his reaction as affirmation, so you move to continue. However, as you reach for the hem of his shirt, you hear a buzzing noise from the house that almost makes you jump out of your skin. When you separate from him, he appears amused at your alarm.

“Relax, I put on a pot of water before. For tea.” Yoongi soothes, and you could swear you’ve never smiled wider.

“Tea? I didn’t know you liked it.” You say, already knowing his response.

“I don’t particularly. But I thought… you’d want it.” It’s a simple thoughtful action but you still have to hold back from crying and ruining the moment. So you attack him with kisses instead, and he has to peel you off of him. “Okay, got it, right move. But I really should get that.”

It makes sense, wouldn’t want the place to burn down after your first night, but when he walks away, you feel his absence. Things between the two of you are definitely going to be different now, so why not keep going. When you walk back inside, you see him taking the water off of the stove and you begin to remove your shirt.

“What are you doing, don’t you want tea?” He asks but you ignore him and continue walking towards the bedroom.

“I’ll be in the bedroom waiting for you to man up and face your emotions.” All you hear is a brief laugh of disbelief as you continue your journey to bed, shedding clothes as you go.

He obviously follows reaching the doorway to the bedroom by the time that you’re left in only your underwear. He doesn’t have much time to look because you’re on him again pulling his shirt up over his head as he backs you up into the bed. When you fall backwards, the cool sheets shock the skin on your back and you sit up to start pulling down Yoongi’s sweatpants.

You are very shocked to find out that he is, apparently, not wearing underwear. You find yourself head to head with him. You admire how pretty he is before looking up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“No underwear? Didn’t expect that from you.” You tease.

“Is that how this is gonna go? Cause I’m not sure you want to play that game.” He warns. Yoongi may appear all tough but you’re like 80% sure he’s just as much a switch as you are. You can’t help but think about what’d be like to ride him so yeah, you do want to play that game.

“I’ll take my chances.” You say as you pull his lips to yours and wrap you legs around his lower half. Yoongi lowers himself over you and you take the opportunity to feel him up. He’s slender but has some firm muscles that start to twitch when your hands glide over them.

He manages to slip one of his hands underneath you and you arch your back so that he can undo your bra. It takes him a moment, but when he reaches the clasp, he helps you slide the straps off your shoulders. He then takes his turn of feeling you up. His hands are on your sides again as his head travels downward toward your underwear. His mouth is wet but his hair tickles your skin more than his tongue or lips.

When he reaches the only fabric that’s keeping you at least a little bit decent, he grabs them hem with his mouth. A strangled sound leaves your mouth as you make eye contact while he pulls off your underwear with just his mouth. Now you have a new definition of the hottest thing. He positions himself back between your legs to look at what he’s just unveiled but you stop him with your hands before he can actually do anything.

“Sweet concept, but if I don’t have you right now, I’ll lose my mind.” He smirks again at this.

“It’s okay, we’ll have plenty of time for that later.” The thought turns you on even more. You scoot up more on the bed until you’re both comfortable and Yoongi looks to you in question. “You okay with this?” He gives you one last chance to back out and you’d be crazy to take it.

“I’m clean, on the pill, and really need this.” You whine out and Yoongi could almost climax from just hearing your whines, without even ever being inside you. He concedes and leans on one elbow in order to maneuver himself to where he need to be. You inhale when you feel him at your entrance and can’t help but smile up at him. You stare at each other as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. When he’s finally fully seated you let out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding and Yoongi moves to embrace you more intimately.

As Yoongi gently rests his forehead on yours you can almost feel your life weaving itself back together again. The weight that’s been left in your soul from all the shit you’ve both had to go through in your lives feels not as deep and hard to carry when you two are together like this. And you know he can feel it too by the sweet kiss he places on your lips.

When you start to experimentally swivel your hips, Yoongi takes the cue to begin moving. The feeling of his length slowly moving against your walls scratches an itch that you’ve been dying to scratch for a long time now and you can’t help but impatiently chase after his hips. After a minute or so, he catches on and pulls out of you before flipping the both of you over and scooting himself up to rest against the headboard.

You immediately reach down to resume and when you sink back down, it hits differently. It’s deeper and almost more intimate. Yoongi’s hands are all over your sides, something he’s gathered that you like from the little gasps that are escaping you. Occasionally, Yoongi makes small grunts against your lips as well, but he seems to not be very vocal. You take a note to have fun with that later.

It feels good to have someone care like this. It’s not just some temporary fix to get your mind off of reality. Yoongi is your current reality and you honestly didn’t think this much emotion could fit into sex. Every time you feel like you couldn’t be closer to each other you’d feel something new and every time you don’t think it could feel any more euphoric it does, until you’re both on the edge, Yoongi focusing his strength on keeping your hips moving at a reasonable speed.

With the angle that you sweep your hips, your clit rubs perfectly against his front and your reaching your high in a matter of seconds later. You stretch your back straight when you do so and Yoongi wraps his arms around your back as he finishes just after you. You collapse with your head in the crook of his neck as he continues to embrace you. You’re perfectly content to continue to lie there until you feel fluid seeping out of you and make an exasperated noise. Yoongi seems to get it as he pulls out making you wince. He kisses your shoulder which remains in front of his face. When you don’t move he offers an incentive.

“Why don’t you go clean up and I’ll finish making that tea?” You move from his neck to kiss him firmly and his hands move delicately across your skin. “That’d be wonderful.”

You and Yoongi spend what you may call one of the best days of your life together. In between the many times that you two make love that day, you talk, eat, bicker, and he even crushes you in mario cart a few times, something that you get payback for in the sheets. By the end of the night, it seems like there is nothing else to be said, and you’re finally hopeful that when you wake up, there won’t be a crushing awkwardness between the two of you.

The concept of having someone to understand you is not something that you’ve had the privilege to come across, but Yoongi makes everything you’ve been through have a purpose. You probably wouldn’t have ended up here if both of your lives weren’t complete shit, and that makes you think.

“What if we met under different circumstances?”

“What, like if I met you and asked you out? I think we’d actually end up here sooner?”

“You still think we’d be here?”

“Yeah. If we met, there’s no way we wouldn’t, even if we resisted. We’re too right for each other.” He looks at you as he says this and you blush a little at his straightforwardness.

“Wow, you sure you aren’t drunk?” You bury yourself in his chest.

“Nope! Just high on life.“

“Please stop talking.”

He obliges and wraps his arm around you before you both fall into a desperately needed slumber. Unfortunately it’s cut short by a phone call a few hours later in the early morning. You have come to associate things like this as bad news. Around 3am, and while off the grid, no one should be calling you with good news. After sharing a worried look, Yoongi reaches over to answer it.

You watch Yoongi intently as he listens to the person on the other line. He lets out a sigh and wipes a hand down his face. He looks stressed and that only escalates your worry. “Are you sure?” He asks through the phone. After a few more moments he looks almost defeated. “Yeah, okay, we’ll be there.” And he hangs up.

“They attacked again.” He says plainly.

“Well I guess it was good we weren’t there then. Did anyone get hurt?” You ask.

“No, Y/N, not our place. They got to Jin and his- your men.” You stare at him with ignorant eyes not trying to accept the possibility of what he’s implying. “They’re all gone.”

“Wait, what do mean, all gone? Like they left or…” You can’t bring yourself to finish because Yoongi is already shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t think they were capable of it.” And you wish you could hear Yoongi attempting to console you, but all you can feel is the anger bubbling up inside of you. All your people have been ruthlessly slaughtered in the middle of the night and you’d bet your ass that Park Jimin was part of it.

A/N: I have to go dip my computer in holy water now. Stay safe and healthy!

Next Chapter

Tags: @badbyeyoongi @whothefuckstolemykeds @xxqueenwxtchxx @alecmidnight @rjsmochii @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @superarmyofdreamersuk @zxlla @1796p @obeythehemmings @betysotelo18 @chogiyeol-utopia @loonyginger @recklesselfless

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loonyginger · 5 years ago

Text

when everything falls apart.

✩ next part

Hey guys. It’s my first time releasing something like that on tumblr. I used to write a lot of fanfiction when I still had the time for it but I hope you enjoy this small drabble. I wanted to release this before I go to bed so apologies if there are any mistakes. xD Oh, also I’m not a native speaker so apologies if I got something wrong. Now enjoy! – V.

Genre: slight angst, I suppose?

Pairing: Wooyoung x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

You had no idea when it started first.

Wooyoung and you had been a couple for nearly a year now. Shortly after his debut, you both began dating. Both of you had been well aware of the fact that it wouldn't become easy due to his busy schedules. But also you had been pretty much occupied with your own life as employee. In the beginning, you had been optimistic about that. You thought it might work out even though you might not see each other as much as normal couples in the beginning of their relationship did. But Skype did exist for a reason, didn't it?

And in the first few months it appeared to work out pretty well. Wooyoung made sure to call you whenever he had some spare time – time he made sure to use to catch up with what you had been doing while he hadn't been around. Time which was precious for both of you.

Anyhow, that optimism you held onto dearly began to crumble over half of a year later. The daily calls didn't happen as often as you were used to. And yes, you tried to be understanding since you were well aware of the fact that he was living his dream on stage. His group had been very successful but with that Wooyoung became even more occupied with his job. Practise, tours, television shows – he was literally needed everywhere. You had always supported his dream, hell, he was born for the stage and every video or performance you saw of your boyfriend, it reminded you of how talented he actually was.

But with his growing success, you barely got a chance to see him which only increased your worries if this relationship was truly destined to last. Yet, you didn't want to give up just yet. After all, you knew that this would have happened when you decided to give your relationship a shot.

The happier you were when you finally got a chance to come with him when he had an important performance. Being all excited to finally spend time with Wooyoung even though he had to work, you waited together with the rest of his bandmates in the waiting room until their performance would start. Patiently, you sat on the couch of the small room, San's head placed in your lap as he tried to relax before they had to head off. As you let your curious eyes slip across the room, you tried to spot where your boyfriend was being. Actually, you had hoped to spend a little more time with him before their show but somehow you got the feeling Wooyoung tried to keep the distance. But you honestly didn't know why. When he told you about dragging you along to the show, he had been all excited about it but now he was nowhere to be found.

“Where's Wooyoung?”, you'd mutter beneath your breath when San's eyelids fluttered open only to let his eyes lock with yours in an unknowing manner. “I'm not sure”, he gave back, shrugging it off. “Probably he's getting his hair or make-up fixed. The show is about to start.” San continued with a small smile plastered upon his lips which revealed his dimples you loved so much. Your boyfriend sometimes became a tiny bit jealous whenever you mentioned that little detail of his best friend, however, he tried his best to not unleash the jealousy in front of the two of you. More or less successful. His pouty behaviour always gave away his true emotions.

Giving a nod in response, your eyes still roamed through the room as you eventually spotted your boyfriend with his make-up artist, seemingly enjoying himself given the soft chuckles which left his mouth as the smaller female applied some more eyeshadow to his skin.

Just when San was about to open his moth again, their manager rose his voice to announce all of the members should follow him since their performance was about to start in less than fifteen minutes. Immediately, each member stopped with whatever they were doing to do what they were told to. Without hesitating, you jumped up from the couch once San decided to move from your lap in order to follow them through the corridor when you eventually spotted your boyfriend not far away from you.

“Woo”, you exclaimed as your expression immediately softened once you spotted his tensed expression. He was nervous, but who wouldn't be in this situation? As he heard the familiar voice calling his name, the blonde would shift his head just to meet your soft gaze. Where usually a smile would grace his lips, there was now a thin line instead. The way he looked at you startled you for a second … he had never given you a glare like that. Nevertheless, you blamed his nervousness for his current behaviour.

“I'm sure you're going to kill the stage tonight”, you continued once you caught up with his pace after you haven't received an answer, following him along the corridor where the staff eventually began with fixating the mics on their costumes. Upon your comment, Wooyoung simply allowed his head to move into a mere nod before one of the staff approached him in order to begin with attaching the microphone to his costume.

Silently you took a step back without tearing your gaze off the beautiful features which belonged to the man you loved. Anyhow, he avoided the eye-contact with you which slightly irritated you and also caused you to feel a light sting in your chest. Yet, you kept telling yourself to not take it too personally. After the performance, he surely would have more time for you and he'd most likely be more relaxed, right?

Patiently, you waited for the staff to finish with their task right before you decided to close the gap between your boyfriend and you, letting your arms wrap around his form just to lean in for a short but sweet kiss. “Good luck”, you whispered as your soft lips brushed his. Unfortunately, however, the kiss didn't last long since the blonde began to push you away gently, yet determined.

“The make-up, y/n...”, he'd say with a sigh, leaving you all baffled as you slowly realised that he rejected your kiss. “I just got it fixed, don't ruin it. We don't have time to do fix it again.”

“S-sure … sorry.” That's all that you've been able to say out loud. Since when did he reject any of your kisses? You barely saw each other which meant that whenever you had the chance to be close, you were literally glued to one another. So why did Wooyoung behave like that all of sudden?

Without any further explanation, he turned around on his heels to approach the back of the stage where the cheering of the fans was echoing through the room, preparing himself for their upcoming performance. As San passed you, he shot you a sympathetic smile right before following his best friend and other members. You simply stared at the back of your boyfriend, not knowing how to feel about all of this when the cheering became louder with each second – a sign that the time has come for ATEEZ performance.

You just stood there at the back, arms crossed in front of your chest whilst you absently watched them beginning to perform 'Wonderland'.

#ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez angst #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #kang yeosang #jeong yunho #song mingi #choi jongho #choi san #jung wooyoung #wooyoung x reader

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

Text

Heartless

Summary: Hyungwon had been collecting the hearts of those for as long as he remembered. But none of them sounded nearly as beautiful as yours did.

Pairing: Chae Hyungwon x reader

Genre: demon au / dark / angst / bittersweet / romance

Warnings: death

A/N: Welcome to my second Demonology story for the week. I’ve had this idea for months, in fact probably close to a year now. It’s pretty dark and out of character for my usual fluffy self but since this collab is called Frightful October, I always try to include at least one story that’s more suited to the title than my others. Still, it was a challenge to write, so I do hope you will give this a chance and read it.

Word count: 3958

[Frightful October Masterlist]

He watched the human from within the shadows, his gaze unaffected despite the brutal killing happening in the alleyway. It wasn’t Hyungwon’s first time seeing such a sight, and it wouldn’t be his last either. His job was simply to clean up the mess left behind. He sighed as the woman’s cries slowed, the life soon seeping away from her face. It was a difficult moment for Hyungwon, his eyes upon her chest as he watched the movement slow and then stilled entirely. Her heart would no longer beat.

It was now useless to him.

However, the man who stood above her, exhilarated and exhausted from his achievement had plenty of beats left in his heart. It seemed almost a shame that Hyungwon couldn’t reach out to save the one that now lay dormant within her chest. But he didn’t focus on her for too long, his job was tied to time. If he moved too soon, he wouldn’t harvest it at the right moment and if he waited too long, he would sacrifice the chance he had. He waited in the shadows for only a moment more before he leapt out, taking away what the man had stolen from the woman below him.

It was another job well done and Hyungwon could afford a couple of days rest. He glanced around the darkened cellar, staring at the specimens he had collected over the years. Some of the hearts belonged to cruel and disgusting monsters, those he had no problem with culling from existence. They were heartless before he removed the organ anyway. He glanced at the row of smaller hearts and moved closer to them. He fingered the side of a small jar sadly, looking at how broken this heart was. The child had been hooked up to so many machines with no chance of survival. Those hearts were harder to harvest. Taking life from a child still felt wrong no matter how many times he had done so. Even if he knew it would end their suffering.

Hyungwon had no choice though. He was bound to his role for eternity, to serve those who he had crossed when he was young and reckless. A heart paid a hefty price, and much like with anything in life, all had a different price tag hanging above them. This broken heart he cherished so much would sell for much lower than the one he had harvested this week.

But they would all sell. The underworld was a dark and twisted land, with entities that reaped luxuries such as beating hearts. Supply and demand was still such a thing down here and he was no different from the others out there following orders and bringing forth what their masters required. Capitalism at it’s finest.

It wasn’t a role Hyungwon gained any true satisfaction out of. Sure, for monsters like the serial killer he now held the heart of, there was a fleeting moment of purpose. He knew he had saved lives by removing the man from the world above. To rid another shadow from that realm meant he had done more than just harvest a heart. But what good were his efforts overall? One killer gone didn’t rid the world of tragedy. More would cause destruction. Humans were a funny sort of race. They claimed to be the best and yet they were far worse than the animal kingdom. At least, with animals, the cycle of life made sense. Humans did as they pleased, and didn’t care for the consequences.

Their hearts all had some sin on them once their innocent years had passed them by.

Hyungwon’s role didn’t focus on some sort of heroism though. He wasn’t just removing those who did bad things from existence. Hearts came in all forms and it was his job to collect them all. From the morbidly sick to the perfectly healthy, he had done them all. Old or young, they all had a price.

Much like his mistakes had.

Putting the new heart onto his desk, he sighed, taking a seat behind it. Steepling his long fingers together, he stared down at the new order to prepare for after his days of rest.

Next, he would be collecting your heart.

Following along quietly, Hyungwon watched you intently. Each order only had five days to observe the subject and then make the best execution for optimal harvest. In the past, he had been sloppy as he learned the ways of being a Heartless, and lost one too many hearts in the process. It was all a fine art, the removal much like a masterpiece. One bad brushstroke could ruin an entire piece and heart culling was much the same. To gain the highest bid was reliant on how well the heart was still beating. Hyungwon needed to know you first before he could decipher in which way he would remove your heart.

Learning about you didn’t immediately tell him why your heart had been requested. Not that he questioned his orders now. When he was new to all of this, he would ask questions. Why did this perfectly healthy human have to die? What was so special about them over the many others out there with more plausible reasons? The truth was there was no logic involved. He didn’t need to know why he had to take your heart, even if there was no obvious answer to it. From the average viewer, you seemed like a decent human being. A college student with a bright future ahead. You were friendly yet focused, and a small part of him was envious of your ability to get everything done with so much grace. You irked him over the first couple of days of observation, living a life that had been so far from his own when he was once alive. It made him eager to find his best plan forward so he could be done with you.

And so, a day earlier than usual, Hyungwon was lurking in the shadows as you walked home from your late-night studying session, preparing to take what he was expected to from you. He knew the quicker he was in approach to you, the seamless it would be. You were naturally curious and had a lot to say to people you met during each day. If you started talking, it wouldn’t take you long to realise he wasn’t from this world at all. Coming up behind you, he reached out for his bounty, readying himself for your heart. He listened out for its beating sound, soon stunned by it.

This was why you had been chosen.

It sounded like a symphony, beating to its own tune, unlike other hearts. He had heard so many over the years but nothing quite as beautiful as yours. This heart would pay top dollar. It would cause fights among the elite in the market. It was incredibly rare, and Hyungwon was entirely overwhelmed by it.

Shaking off his reverie when he realised the sound had become distant from your continued walking, he dashed after you, grabbing you immediately. There was no scream emitted from how quick he had been. Your body slumped in his arms, now unconscious, your heart thumping faster momentarily before settling back down. Even heightened, it was like music to his ears. It pained him to reach for his tools.

And he wavered far too long above you to take what he was meant to.

Why should he take your heart? One day, it would become a prized trophy stored in a library of some wicked monster. Or worse, lay upon a table fit for a King and devoured until the very last beat. No, Hyungwon couldn’t bear the thought that your heart might stop beating one day. His hand trembled as he struggled with his inner dialogue. Could he take this heart and hide it as his own? Somehow mask the sound so no one would ever discover his deceit? He had never been so desperate to keep a heart for his own.

Then again, he had never heard such beauty before either.

Whilst struggling through his turmoil, he wasn’t nearly as aware as he should be. Eyes opened before him and he blinked rapidly, cursing that you had woken up. The plan was broken now. You had seen him and he waited for your scream, terror from what you saw before him.

Instead, you frowned, lifting your hand to his face and flinching when you connected with it. He was amazed himself, no human had ever reached out for him like this. Especially when he still held his tools towards your chest. His grip faltered though, when you spoke.

“I’ve seen you before.”

“What?”

“In a dream that I’ve dreamed my whole life. It’s you. I can’t believe it!”

Hyungwon wondered if the knock to your head he had given you had caused you to hallucinate. Sure, he looked every part of a human on the outside. But he had long left that part of himself behind. Could there be someone out there that you had mistaken him for? Yet your smile was genuine. So much so that he stopped thinking you were playing at a ploy of escape.

“Are you sure?” he asked and you nodded instantly. “Then you must know-”

“From another lifetime,” you murmured and he frowned, staring at you more intently. Had he once known you when he was alive? Only hours ago he had been done with your existence, jealous and frustrated with how amazing you were. Now, Hyungwon worried just how much he would do for you.

It was in that moment that he knew you both weren’t alone anymore, and without thinking much about it, he hastily returned his tools to his pockets, scooping you up and fled from the shadows you had both spent far too long within.

Not that taking you back to his lair was a smart choice either. You were still alive, heart beating just fine and yet completely out of place. Hyungwon cringed when he realised what he had done, though he was desperate to know more of what you said. If you knew him, then maybe you were worth the risk. Not handing over your heart next week for inspection was definitely not something he had anticipated. Right now though, he was unsure of everything about you.

He wished your order had gone to someone else.

However, with the sounds of your beating heart from across the room, he knew he couldn’t handle knowing this heart could belong in the hands of another. He was protective of it already, and since it was attached to you, his gaze softened.

You smiled. “I guess decorating the place isn’t really up on your list of things to do, huh?”

His room was simply furnished, a bed along one wall, dresser and desk against the other. A wash basin and towel was by the door and that was all Hyungwon ever used this room for. He spent far too much of his hours Earthside or in his cellar to have a pressing need for this room to be more personal. Still, he found himself awkward as you took in his basic belongings, your brows furrowed together. You then turned to him.

“Were you going to kill me?”

In any other setting, Hyungwon would have tried to placate you. But you were so direct with him that he felt no need to be anything but that with you. “Yes.”

“Because?” you wondered and Hyungwon watched as you moved closer. He didn’t answer and you smiled. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I have by bringing you here.”

“Alive, might you add,” you commented, pursing your lips together as he nodded.

“Shouldn’t you be scared right now?”

“I am, to a point. But I’m with you and I know you’ll protect me.”

He chuckled darkly. “I was about to kill you, remember?”

“But you didn’t,” you retorted and he sighed, you had him there. “And you won’t, right?”

“I’m ordered to, so don’t trust me. I could do it at any stage.”

You nodded softly, lips still pursed. “Only you this time.”

“Only me… what?”

“Only you can kill me this time. Don’t let anyone else.”

Hyungwon was confused. Had he killed you before? Surely, he would know a soul he had crossed previously. How did you even know him? He craved your answers but he also knew the more he uncovered, the easier it would be to throw himself in the firing line for you.

And you somehow knew this also. Moving dangerously close to him, you looked up briefly as you gently rearranged the collar of his shirt. “I know you’ll keep me safe.”

Shoving you off, he shook his head. “I told you not to trust me.”

He had left you and your confusing words alone in his room as he came down to the cellar. Among the beating of hearts, he began to relax, though the sound was nothing like yours on its own. It muddled his perception, listening out for it from the room above despite all those around him that he could more easily listen to.

Somehow, the even beating of your heart sent him off to sleep. He dreamed for the first time in decades, seeing a world that was so far attached from him. Dancing around as a child, laughing and giggling with his friends.

With you.

He had known you then. Or at least, the you of the past. Hyungwon had grown up with you, a dear friend and then lover to each other. As the dream continued, he almost could tell the story before it reached the next point. He knew of this past well. The pivotal moment in his life where he had killed for the first time. Shaking from head to toe as he dropped the knife he held, now covered in blood, Hyungwon heard your whimpering behind him.

“Is the monster dead?” you asked, coming out from where he had hid you. You wrapped your arms around him as he slumped, comforting words all that he heard.

Turns out though, if you kill the Heartless, you have to become one.

Jolting up from his dreams before it got to the first heart he was assigned to, he stared up at you, realising you had been calling out his name. He searched your face, wondering if you knew that he had killed you back then too. You smiled, reaching out for his hand and he snapped back, shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t be down here. I specifically told you to wait upstairs.”

“Aren’t you hungry?” you wondered and before he could answer, his stomach did. Giggling, you pointed to the plate before him. “I figured if I used some of the supplies in your kitchen, I should make for two. I hope you don’t mind. Not that you really had anything in there.”

He hadn’t shared a meal since he last had with you. Did you know that as well? You smiled over at him again, gesturing for him to eat up before it got cold.

Hyungwon decided he would take heed of your request.

He would protect you from his kind once more.

Days passed and he grew agitated. He had unnecessarily killed, something that he had only done twice during his job. He had sought out the most beautiful sounding heart that he could find and without much thought, taken it to replace the one he was protecting. It had been accepted as yours without any question and for now, everything was stable. You were still at his side and no one seemed to realise his deceit. He would do it again if he had to just to ensure your safety, though you were far from pleased about it.

“Someone lost a life because of me?”

“She had a medical condition. If anything, I helped her escape a prolonged death.”

You shook your head, tears falling in streams. “She had the choice to do so much more though, Hyungwon. Please don’t kill others. Kill me if you have to.”

“You and I both know I already have once,” he replied darkly, stalking away from you. The nightmares haunted him now, his first order as a newly turned demon was to take the heart his former comrade had been sent to do that he had killed instead. He had no idea what a heart should sound like back then and was too frazzled by the task that he failed to even harvest it correctly and you were balancing between life and death. Instead, his trainer had, and he had been left with no option but to watch on hopelessly as you died. Hyungwon believed he was stronger now, one of the elite Heartless. Still, he had always followed orders. Out of fear in the beginning, and because it was all his existence meant over time. Observe, cull, and sell over and over. He had truly believed he had little heart left himself now.

Until you.

You were making him inconsistent, sending him crazy from fear all over again. He couldn’t just disappear with you, no matter how much he wanted to. His departure would only show that of his deception and put you in further danger. It would only be time before someone found you though, especially since you never listened to him.

“I told you to stay put, why did you follow me here?!” he hissed as you appeared over his shoulder as he watched his next order from afar. You sighed heavily.

“I’m not in a jar yet so you can’t hold me captive.”

“I’m not putting you in one either,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the shoulders and marching you backwards. Within a blink of an eye, you were both back in his bedroom and you threw off his grip, shaking your head rapidly.

“Is my heart that valuable?”

Hyungwon avoided answering. “If I don’t harvest that heart by tomorrow-”

“Take mine instead.”

“No.”

“She’s healthy!”

“So many are!” he exclaimed, rubbing at his face. “Healthy, young, beautiful, a lot going for them, there’s so many of them!”

“What happens if you don’t do your orders, will they kill you then?”

“If that were the case, do you think I’d still be here?”

“Then how did you manage to kill the one who attacked us?” you wondered and Hyungwon slumped on his bed, putting his head in his hands. He felt you sit down beside him, leaning into his side. He had avoided this conversation for so long now but for you, it was overdue. “You protected me.”

“I still am.”

“How did you kill him?”

Hyungwon groaned, looking up at you desperately. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? A fellow demon cannot kill me but a mere human could. You could.”

“And then my fate is to become Heartless as well?”

“You will have no such fate.”

“There is no escape for us? No happy ending?” you asked forlornly, pouting when you stopped talking. Of course, you knew there wasn’t and Hyungwon’s silence confirmed your suspicions. You began to cry and he held you tightly as you did so, rocking you both through the realisation.

The love he held once for you had returned and he would lose it again.

Eventually, darkness encased the room, long after the tears had subsided. You had both laid on his bed and were still curled up in one another, comforted by this rare moment of stillness. Hyungwon was savouring every part there was to you this time. The way you breathed in and out, the softness of your skin, the shape of your eyes. Everything was imprinted in his mind, no longer ashamed to see you within it. He had pushed the memory of you out of his thoughts long ago, unable to comprehend his rise and fall that connected with you.

However, the longer you stared back at him during the soft moonlit hours together, the easier he saw your renewed determination. Hyungwon watched you carefully, running his hand repeatedly through your hair. “What are you thinking of?”

“Our escape together.”

“I told you we can’t do such a thing. One of us will die trying. And that will be me.”

You poked his chest with your index finger. “Then will you rest knowing that they will take my heart without your protection?”

He swallowed roughly, emotions rising to the surface. “I can’t kill you again.”

“I will.”

Sitting up, he looked down at you, confused. You smiled, reaching up for his jawline affectionately. It still amazed him how natural it seemed for you to love him in this lifetime. Moving so you were level with him, your lips found his softly, like a breeze brushing across his mouth momentarily. You then smiled at him, placing your other hand on his face. “I will do it all.”

“I don’t understand your suggestion, Y/N.”

“You no longer want this existence, right?”

He nodded distantly, he never had. But he was bound to this cruel fate forever.

“And it takes a human to kill you, right? I’ll do it.”

“You will not-”

“Before then, I will need some ingredients. Do you ever remember the plays we read when were younger, Hyungwon? Romeo and Juliet?”

“You’ll poison yourself?”

“Will we be free then, together?” you hoped and he stared at you intently. His gaze then slipped to your chest, the heart he was protecting thumping beautifully within. It pained him to even consider hearing the last beat it ever took again.

And yet, it gave him hope to know that it would be a choice you both had as well.

Neither of you discussed the plan for the rest of the night. You explored one another in ways you had never connected in the past, Hyungwon relishing in the sound of your heart experiencing the ultimate high.

When morning came, the mood between you was loving and bright. You got up, ate your final meal together, smiling the entire time. He hadn’t felt this light since he was a child. Eventually, you got organised with what you needed. The heart he was meant to collect was still beating out there somewhere and he knew it wouldn’t be long until someone came for it.

He wouldn’t let them find yours instead.

“How do you know we’ll meet again?” he asked you softly as you prepared your last drink of this lifetime, the purple colour convincing him of its potency.

You stopped stirring it, turning to stretch up and peck his lips. “Because I found you in this lifetime again. Our fate is connected.”

“I can’t argue that,” he admitted with a smile and then wrapped his arms around you from behind, your body rocking back into his chest. “Though I worry that we won’t end up in the same place together. I have so much sin on these hands.”

You took them in your own, linking your fingers together firmly. “I won’t let your hand go, not even in death.”

He knew you meant it, and it was one of the things he focused on as he felt the life slipping from him hours later. That and the beating of your heart. It was erratic now, given once you had pierced his chest you then reached for the bottle and downed all the contents quickly. Slowly, he heard the beating skip, starting and stopping, in its final symphony. He closed his eyes when you slumped against him, hands still connected.

There was no pain, even when he no longer could hear your heartbeat. Because he knew he didn’t need to collect your heart whilst it was beating anymore.

It was already his.

_________________

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lacramorga · 4 years ago

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— SHIP QUESTIONS

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

° How did they first meet?

-The Centrifical Carburettor, a newly constructed experimentation hall for steam locomotives. Ondolerinde had just been sponsored by Dean Valkner An and was a full citizen of the Clockwork City, receiving a tour of the Brass Fortress.

° What was their first impression of each other?

- Sotha Sil? Mildly impressed at the new addiction to the Apostles. He thought he was...cute? Why did he think that? No, no, he can't find anyone cute. It was unprofessional.

- Ondolerinde? He was infatuated immediately, like instantly. Love at first sight. There was a Living God in front of him and Sotha Sil was better than anyone could describe. He was so in awe he dropped his books and notes in a flustered mess.

° Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

-Neither of their families, alive or otherwise, don't know so they have no say.

° Who felt romantic feelings first?

-Surprisingly? Sotha Sil.

° Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

-Both. One out of professionalism and the other respect. Ondolerinde saw Sotha as a person that shouldn't interact with mere mortals to begin with, much less have a romantic relationship with.

-For Sotha Sil he initially believed similar. It was rare for him to interact with people, Apostles or otherwise. He couldn't single out one of his own followers...could he?

° If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

- "You really think so? At least I'm not the only one." Ondolerinde would be so happy someone would agree.

- What's a soulmate? Sotha would be confussion. He's never heard the term before among the youngins but he never put any stock into such a preposterous idea.

GENERAL

° Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

- Sotha Sil. It was very...awkward.

He marched right up to Ondolerinde and said, matter-of-factly, "We're dating now".

° Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

- Date? Like spend time with each other? Nothing but each other? With no one around? Just them? That was Sil's shit.

They had a relaxed date where they walked to the Pavilion of Artifice and Sotha explained various Fabricants along the way.

° What was their first kiss like?

- Random, forceful and lead to tongue.

° Were they each other's first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

- Sotha Sil experienced many things in his time. Kissing, love, and such. The only 'first' for him was the prospect of marriage.

- Ondolerinde on the other hand...experienced nothing in his childhood and teen years. He wasn't allowed to have crushes, first-loves or casual relationships in Alinor and when he worked with his Legion, that mindset continued.

Sotha Sil was his in every aspect.

° What's their height difference? Age difference?

- Inside the Clockwork City? Only a few millimeters. On the outside? Roughly sixteen inches.

-Sotha Sil's exact age is a mystery. I would put the difference around 3,390 years.

Ondolerinde is 50 years of age and Sotha Sil is 3,440.

° Who takes the lead in social situations?

- It depends on the social situation.

If the situation is Apostles and Factotums then Sotha Sil takes the lead, as it should be. He's the boss, the main man, he shouldn't have a mouthpiece around his own people and creations.

Which means Ondolerinde picks up the slack for every other situation, which is fine to him. If for some reason they're outside the Clockwork City Ondolerinde is dealing with dignitaries, students and his Tribunal siblings.

° Who gets jealous easier?

- Ondolerinde, but not in a traditional sense.

His partner is a Living God, who built an entire city, everything in it and he has to run the place. He's never jealous for Sil's time and attention but maybe once in a while he gets jealous by that new Factotum that's being built.

LOVE

° Who said "I love you" first?

- Ondolerinde!

° What are their primary love languages?

- Sotha Sil: Giving and receiving gifts, quality time.

- Ondolerinde: Acts of service, touch.

° How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

- They cuddle quite often, almost constantly but the Somnolostation isn't the optimal for being near each other. The 'Nestleberth Crucible' is an invention Sotha Sil made specifically designed to allow them to cuddle, work and be together for lengthy amounts of time.

- As for PDA its uncommon. Sil doesn't want to appear he favours one of his Apostles over any others, he might loose credibility and followers. So the closest PDA will be a lingering touch on the small of Ondolerinde's back or touching his wrist.

° What are their favorite things to do together?

- Explore Dwemer ruins, if there's ever a moment they get more than a days reprieve they're in a far flung corner of the world being adventurers! Finding remnants and knowledge left behind that could aid them.

- If they aren't working or learning then they're being catty. There are instances of Sotha Sil being a petty bitch and sassing though never out of malicious intent.

Almalexia especially, that's their favorite topic to gossip about.

° Who's better at comforting the other?

- Ondolerinde, by far.

He has a special view on the world, or that's how Sil interprets the Altmer's way of thinking. He knows exactly what to say and when to say it and it helps immensely. No matter what the situation is.

° Who's more protective?

- Sotha Sil.

He's seen too much death, destruction and lost too many people in his life. It drives him to be better for Ondolerinde, to be there more and do more things so he doesn't loose him like his last Lover.

It also keeps him up, over-thinking and worrying.

° What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

- Silly and cheesy names.

My Heart to Ondolerinde.

My Architect, Tinker and Thinker to Sotha Sil.

DOMESTIC LIFE

° If they get married, who proposes?

- Sotha Sil.

He had a ring on him for years if not a century or two always waiting for that opportunity to spring the question. The perfect moment never arose so he popped the question in the middle of the night, no warning.

Thankfully Ondolerinde said yes!

° What's the wedding like? Who attends?

- The wedding is small and takes place in two areas. The Basilica and a sequestered area in Alinor.

- For the Basilica service the Congress of Calibration and the Tribunal were invited, Divayth Fyr showed up, so they'd be made aware of their relationship and how much it meant to both of them.

- In Alinor, as strenuous as it was, Ondolerinde's parents and immediate family were invited for a private reciting of their vows.

° How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

- A boy, Othalos Sothal.

Othalos is a pretty solid mix of his parents.

He's logical, calm, generous and compassionate. Too smart for his own good and dangerously curious, a volatile combination.

° Who's the stricter parent?

- They're equally as strict, which isn't much as they're complete pushovers.

° Who kills the bugs in the house?

- Skeevatrons!

° How do they celebrate holidays?

- They don't.

° Who's more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

- On any given morning it could be either.

Mostly it's Ondolerinde asking for a few more minutes of contact before Sil is off to make sure the world hasn't imploded on someone else's watch.

° Who's the better cook?

- Sotha Sil.

He finds cooking to be similar to building a fabricant, different parts going in and a whole new item being discovered and when he discovered his then crush didn't like the Nutrient Paste, he decided to change the game.

#the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #the elder scolls online #elder scrolls oc #altmer #high elf #dark elf #dunmer #sotha sil #ondolerinde #othalos sothal #character headcanons #headcannons #ITS NEVER ENOUGH #YOU HAVE TO KNOW EVERYTHING #i love them so much send help

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years ago

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I Can’t Eat Love pt 16

Here’s the next part. This involves quite a bit of a time skip.

Next part marks the halfway point of the story, bringing us back to the very first scene between Ronan and Lenora. Things are definitely going to change!

Master Post Link here

__________________________________

The Duchy flourished.

We trained our new officials and solidified checks and balances to keep things honest and efficient. The school expanded to multiple trades, and soon I was cooperating with other nobles to open up similar establishments across the kingdom. Through it all, Armeny led the way, becoming a center for trade, skilled workers and culture.

Another year had passed, I was seventeen, and coming up on the last year before the big scandal that had ruined my life the first time around. I knew that I needed to move out of the spotlight, so that my fall from grace would have as little as an effect as possible of the work I had already accomplished.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about the business “Prosperity.” No one seemed to realize that I was in charge, and simply seemed to think I was one of their most loyal customers. I would be able to continue to run things from behind the scenes.

But the Duchy was a different story. Most of the nobility knew by this point that I was the one actually in charge. At first, some of the older men had protested to my father, decrying it as “unnatural” and “harmful.” Fortunately the Duke’s laziness was not to be underestimated. After getting a chance to live a life free of the responsibilities he hated, my father was not going to be coerced into taking them on again. He simply told them he couldn’t be bothered, and that everything would work out in the end. In the face of his never faltering, if vaguely directed optimism, they were forced to give up.

I had been left in relative peace since then, but that would change once my reputation and status were ruined. To prepare for that, I needed a figurehead. Someone who could help to run the Duchy instead of me, but wouldn’t try to change too many things whenever I wasn’t looking.

And so, I sent for Henry.

A distant cousin on my father’s side, Henry was officially the heir of the title.

Traditionally he should have been at my father’s side, learning to take over from the time he was young, but that seemed that it had been too much effort for the Duke. I had met him only a few times over the years, he was always quiet, intelligent… if a little boring to talk to, and a hard worker. He spent most of his time studying the different uses of plants, and publishing his findings.

He had never inherited the title in my previous life. After my family fell from grace, the Duchy had been absorbed by its neighbors, and as far as I knew he lived his life either unaware or not caring that his inheritance had disappeared. He seemed to find joy in scientific study rather than money and the company of others.

He was perfect.

__________________________________

“So I am to take over the Duchy?” Henry sat across from me, drinking tea, his gaze more on the floor than on me.

“In part. You’ll be taking on some of the workload, but I’ll still have a hand in making sure things stay on track.”

He thought that over for a few moments, sighing. “What’s in it for me?”

THAT caught me off guard.

“You’ll have to be the Duke eventually, and this is part of the job. Also, you get to live in a nice house, you won’t have to worry about money…”

“But I really don’t want the title! I have everything I need at my home.” He shook his head. “I may not have money or a big house… but my plants…

“I’ll build you a greenhouse, and move your plants here so you can continue your studies. I’ll even buy you more plants if you like…”

“I’ll move in next week.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his immediate agreement once plants were involved.

__________________________________

We built a greenhouse, and Henry moved in without causing much fuss. He took to the administrative work naturally. I found to my delight that not only was he easy to work with, but when we had time he would take me through the greenhouse, teaching me the various uses of different herbs and plants.

“And this is winterblue…” He pointed out a leafy green plant without flowers. On looking closer I noticed that the edges of the leaves were tinged with a light blue.

“What does it do?” I felt the leaf between my fingers, noting how soft it was.

“Nothing too amazing. If you brew tea with it, it can boost the body’s health. So if someone is showing early signs of illness, this can be a good thing to give them.”

“Anything poisonous in here?” I was mostly joking, but Henry nodded seriously, pointing at the far corner of the greenhouse.

“The more you know about these kinds of things, the better.” He grimaced. “I study a few of these poisons in hopes of understanding how to negate or treat them.”

“Just keep a close eye on them, please.” It made me nervous to have poisonous plants on the grounds, but after a few months of working with Henry I knew better than to try to persuade him to get rid of a plant. “I’d hate to see them fall into the wrong hands.”

__________________________________

My etiquette lessons completed a year earlier than they had in my previous life, having covered a great amount more of material.

Mrs. Rendler pronounced me a natural genius and claimed I was the best student she had ever trained. I was slightly uncomfortable with the title, given the extra three years advantage that I had, but it wasn’t as if I could set the record straight. I had hoped as the lessons were over I could be excused from visiting the palace, but found myself spending the designated days with the Queen, instead.

The reason given was that I would follow her around, “to get a feel for the work the Queen has to do.” And for perhaps a single week she stuck to this, but it almost immediately evolved into “all the mother-daughter activities Queen Amerande has wanted to do but couldn’t find an excuse to before.”

We visited other families together, went shopping, walked through various gardens and public sites. I meant to beg off in the beginning, to make excuses and miss the less than useful meetings, but… She was so excited each time. She smiled when she saw me, asking about my week. We would talk for hours, and although I tried to keep as much back as I could, she somehow would manage to get me to talk about whatever was going on.

It was painful, sometimes. She acted every bit the mother I had always wanted, but I remained aware that it had to be a simple charade. Something that would end once the engagement was broken. And she must have sensed my concern about this to some extent, because although she continued to treat me as she always had, if not closer, the necklace I had refused remained in her jewelry box, likely waiting to be given to Edith once the prince chose her.

It was what I had told her to do, but it still made me uncomfortable to think about.

__________________________________

Through the next years Nate and I continued to write each other. He seemed to be doing well back in his home country, and was implementing many of the changes we had tried in my duchy back there. His letters were always long, filled with excited rambling that made me smile. It reminded me of how enthusiastic he always was during classes to come up with ideas for the Duchy.

I missed the time we had all spent together. I still visited the royal treasury once a month but it was more to help Jim teach his newer students than anything else. If I ran into a complex problem I either wrote to Nate for advice or visited Jim on a free day to talk it out. I appreciated still having their support… but it was just not the same as it had been.

The letters were often awkwardly worded, as Nate struggled desperately to not reveal his identity through them. He slipped frequently, but I refused to think about it, or consider any obvious clues. I didn’t want to care anything about him… the less I knew about him, the better.

And if I was always happy to receive a letter from him… it was because I valued his expertise in economics… not because I cared at all.

__________________________________

I slowly paid off the family debt, and between the now three stores I owned with Maline, we were both wealthier than I had ever expected to be. We had even opened a branch store geared towards the average person, with well made clothes sold at affordable cost, and soon had to hire more and more people. I was funding my father and mother, as well as Henry’s expenses, but still had plenty more. I put more into the food charity and schools, not forgetting what it was like to not have a job or regular food.

The Duchy was thriving. The family was wealthy. I had prepared everything I could.

The future would be different this time.

__________________________________

“Miss?” Hallers opened the door, finding me sitting in my office despite the fact that it was well before dawn. “Is everything all right? Why aren’t you in bed?”

I sighed, looking at him with a sad smile. “I’m sorry if I woke you, Hallers. I couldn’t sleep. Just trying to mentally prepare for the future.”

Today was the day before Ronan’s eighteenth birthday. It was the day of my last “lesson” with the Queen, my last tea with the prince.

The day that had ruined my life was tomorrow.

“I beg your pardon, Miss, but if anyone had prepared for the future, it’s you.You can’t predict everything, but you’ve worked hard and helped those around you.” He smiled, startling me. “ You’ll be a wonderful queen one day, if you don’t mind me saying.”

I laughed at that, not able to explain the irony of his words. He would understand tomorrow. “Try not to put too much faith in me, Hallers, you’ll only be disappointed.”

He leaned over and squeezed my hand, his eyes kind. “I normally would never disagree with you, it’s not a butler’s place, but I will now: You could never disappoint me. I have never been so proud of someone, as I have been with you.”

“…” I stared at him in shock, as he slowly stood back up, resuming his professional stance.

“Now, you can go back to your room and have a short nap. We’ll bring you some breakfast and send you off to the palace once you’re ready.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that clear?”

I stood up, chuckling. “What would I do without you, Hallers?”

“Don’t worry, Miss. You won’t ever have to find out.”

__________________________________

My last tea with the Prince was as boring as ever. I hadn’t been able to bring Edith today, as I was able to most weeks, her mother had wanted her to stay home for a dress fitting. Edith had been annoyed, Ronan was irritated once he realized she wasn’t going to be there, and I wasn’t too happy either. Normally I let them chat together, reading a book as they ignored my existence, him bragging and her complimenting.

But today...

“How are your birthday preparations coming along?”

“…” He stared down at the table, refusing to talk. I sipped at my tea, silently glad as I always was that I never let Hallers come along for these outings. I wasn’t sure if the butler had ever killed anyone before, and I wasn’t about to let the Prince be his first victim.

I kept talking, pretending this was a cordial conversation. “I heard your mother hired some of the best musicians around, so the music should be lovely. Of course food will be wonderful…”

This WAS the one thing I had been looking forward to. The royal chef was amazing, and I had missed out on the food at the party last time as I had left in tears after he broke the engagement. This time around I was determined to get to try some.

“…” He nodded silently, pretending I didn’t exist. I reached the end of my patience.

“Well, this has been wonderful, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave early. I need to say goodbye to your mother before I leave, and then finish preparations for the party.” I stood up, relieved I wouldn’t have to pretend enjoy his presence after tomorrow, as I turned to walk away, however, he called out, stopping me.

“Lenora?

“Yes?” I looked back at him. He seemed uncomfortable, but forced himself to speak.

“We’ll need to talk tomorrow, come find me as soon as you arrive at the party.”

Before I even get to eat? “Sure.”

I walked away, wondering how I could hide from him long enough to eat the food before he broke off the engagement, in case I had to leave the party.

__________________________________

“We need to talk tomorrow.” The prince’s face was serious.

“Of course!” I smiled, hoping he thought I looked pretty. “However long you need!”

I walked away, feeling excited. Perhaps the time we were spending together was finally taking effect! Maybe he wants to tell me he loves me! With this and other fanciful imaginings, I thought of little else for the rest of the day

__________________________________

“The tea ended so early, did it not go well?” Queen Amerande asked me with a frown as I approached to say goodbye.

“He really wasn’t in the mood to talk.” Especially not to me.

She reached out, hugging me tightly. “Dear, I appreciate you giving as much time as you have to this, I’m sorry he… he’s like this.”

“It’s fine.”

And it was.

I cared little for his personality, habits, or lack of etiquette. It was amazing how freeing realizing that he and I were never going to be married was in how I viewed him. I had always worried I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t pretty or clever or graceful enough to catch his eye. But now, it didn’t matter. I didn’t want him to notice me.

“No, it’s not. He shouldn’t treat you so poorly.” She sighed. “He’s my son, I love him… but that doesn’t mean I wish I could shake some sense into him sometimes.”

“You can’t force these things.” I smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I spoke the words I realized: it was the last time we would get to see each other in such a casual setting. My stomach started hurting. I would need to ask Henry to see if he could brew me tea for stomachaches.

Which reminded me…

“I brought you something.” I reached into my pockets, pulling out a packet of dried winterblue leaves. “I was worried you were sounding ill, so if you brew this into your tea, it should help you feel better.

In truth, she didn’t sound sick at all, but I knew she would be soon.

__________________________________

“Where’s the Queen?” It was my first question on arriving to the party. I was nervous, curious about what the prince wanted to talk to me about. I had wanted to see the Queen first, but looking around the ballroom, I didn’t see her anywhere.

“I heard she was too ill this morning to attend.” Edith smiled at me as she spoke. She was dressed much nicer than normal, and seemed… excited, almost. I wondered what was going on, but dismissed the question as soon as I thought of it.

“I hope she feels better soon.” I murmured, making plans to visit the next day.

Edith’s smile widened. “I’m sure she will.”

__________________________________

I had never gotten a chance to visit her after the engagement had been broken, but I remembered hearing that it had taken her quite a few days to recover.

Of course… it might have all been an excuse to avoid me after her son broke our engagement.

Even as that dark thought crossed my mind, I handed her the tea. If she truly did get sick in the past life, maybe the tea would help, and if not… well, the tea wouldn’t hurt.

Queen Amerande took the tea, looking slightly confused. “You know, I must look more sick than I realized. I feel fine, but this is the second time someone has given me tea today.”

That caught my attention, “Someone else brought you tea?”

“Yes, your friend Edith brought me some tea leaves earlier today. She said it would help ‘calm my nerves.’” She shrugged. “I wasn’t feeling stressed, but since she was a close friend of yours I was planning on trying it tonight to be polite. But now I’m afraid I won’t.” She clutched the tea I had handed her, looking extremely happy. “My daughter gave me something better so of course I have to use that instead!”

Dancing around, you would have thought I had given her jewels or gold rather than a simple bag of died leaves. “It will be the best tea I’ve ever had!”

I laughed at that. “You haven’t even tried it yet!”

“You gave it to me! So it’s the best!” She pretended to frown for a moment and then gave me a hug.

I hugged her back, and then made my goodbyes, preparing to leave. The Queen stopped me, handing me a different tea bag. “Here. This is the tea Edith gave me. It’s not the most polite thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t really drink medicinal tea all that often.” She grinned. “Unless of course it’s been given to me by family. You’ve had a lot going on lately, though, so maybe it can help with your stress.”

Shrugging, I took the bag. I would likely throw it away, I wasn’t very eager to try anything from Edith. I was curious that she had made the trip up earlier without me to see the queen, but on closer thought, it made sense. Edith was going to be engaged to the prince soon. She was probably trying to make a good impression on her future mother in law.

It was funny… I had no issues with the thought of her marrying Ronan, my fiancé… but the idea of her being Queen Amerande’s daughter in law made me want to scream in frustration.

I must just be tired.

__________________________________

I headed home, feeling determined. Tomorrow was the day I had been preparing for ever since I had been reborn. So much was different, but still this day always had loomed ahead, a reminder of the terrible ending I had once faced.

It would be different this time.

I was different this time.

I was ready.

#writing #i can't eat love #second life #fantasy #didn't want to stay in the first three yea

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wingheadshellhead · 6 years ago

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endgame time

okay i figure i might as well post all my thoughts on the movie and get all of it out at once

the good shit (oh yes i loved iron man 5)

the tony and nebula interactions were so good. so soft. love that sweet validation of them being stuck for 3 weeks and getting along. TONY OFFERING HER THE BLUEBERRIES on their last day of oxygen and her pushing his hand away and tony immediately scarfing them all. tony thinking of a complete stranger’s needs before himself even as he’s dying. fucking good shit a+

when he stepped off the jet and it was STEVE who rushed immediately to catch him lmao my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. a beautiful cinematic stevetony moment.

“i lost the kid, i lost the kid” holy shit superfam........ SUPERFAM. how he looked so distraught and heartbroken like he knows he took a teenager up to space with him to fight the greatest villain the world has ever faced and he LOST him and the way it broke him saying it out loud as steve was holding onto him

the catharsis of tony having his big “I WAS RIGHT FUCK YOU” speech and then collapsing afterwards. SHIVERS. and it was fantastic seeing rdj physically weakened and looking like crap surviving for 3 weeks on the ship with zero supplies. WHEN HE TORE THE REACTOR OFF HIS CHEST AND SHOVED IT INTO STEVE’S HAND. “where were you when i needed you” “we’ll lose together. you said we’d do that together too, LIAR” (not a paraphrase) oh my gOD. fucking deserved. his righteousness, his betrayal, his hurt. so excellent. loved that for him. all the avengers watching him with mild concern but also resignation knowing he WAS right and they’d treated him like he was crazy two years ago for nearly losing his mind because he was so worried about the threat of impending invasion.

5 YEARS LATER. steve holding support group was such a great moment of continuity from him watching sam holding the veterans group (a first win for samsteve in the movie), i loved him still wanting to create a space for others to share their trauma and to talk. the painful irony of having a whole cap trilogy and 4 avengers movies and having so few scenes of steve actually talking about his trauma and instead having his experiences filtered through other people’s dialogue has been so fucking painful and endgame continued to screw him over (see below lmao) with this one but i thought this scene was still a nice touch.

really enjoyed natasha saying she’d found a family and a purpose in THEORY but it wasn’t backed up enough by the context. she was running point on what was left of the avengers essentially but it felt more work related than “oh we’re a FAMILY” which the avengers has never been as much as they might try to act like it for one line of dialogue that’s meant to be so meaningful

AVENGERS ENDGAME AS A TIME TRAVEL CAPER. holy fuck a literal au come to life. loved it. we got a whole stevetony going undercover in the 70s on a mission which was awesome. spy!steve and spy!tony shenanigans. the throwbacks to 2012 avengers and continuations of the scenes we saw in the movie were so so much fun.

america’s ass. god bless. tony thirsting after steve in every world in every universe in the multiverse.

“i missed that giddy optimism” he also missed that ass, apparently

they really fucking WENT there with the hail hydra but i thought it was a smart (if smug) wink to the audience of steve one upping the hydra guys and taking the scepter from them.

STEVE LIFTING MJOLNIR!!!! steve WIELDING mjolnir and doing the lightning thing. THAT’S MY BOY!!!!!!!!

being 90% sure that tony was going to die going into this movie i knew it was nails in the coffin the MOMENT we saw the 5 years later flashback and we were at this beautiful house and tony was married and playing with his kid. it seemed gratuitous, it seemed too good to be true. and it’s everything tony deserved and more. the domesticity, the beautiful simplicity and quietness of having a wife and a kid and being surrounded by so much love. I LOVE YOU 3000. i love you 3000. holy shit. you cannot tell me or anyone that tony isn’t the best dad in the whole damn universe. that kid was so loved, so adored. all along, all tony has wanted is a family. he just wants people to love him and people that he can love that will stay. and he got exactly that. he got five years of that and maybe it’s not enough but being a superhero it never is. i’m glad he got that 5 years.

RESCUE PEPPER was incredible. gwyneth got more screentime than i thought she would. seeing pepperony flying their suits in the sky was SUCH a trip ironfam really won this whole event.

tony being bitter and putting up a front when natasha, steve and scott came to visit him. it was so jarring watching steve seeing tony with the happy family and life he’d never been able to have, always an impossibility to him. steve jumping the gun with “is pepper pregnant” in cw. such a bittersweet moment. it’s one of those very classic comic moments in the multiverse where they have a wild au concept and they lull you into a false sense of security that everything is beautiful and perfect and happy until they have to ruin it all again and go be heroes. it was very that. except the happiness and love was all REAL and tony got to have it.

their conversation about how everything had worked out for him and how he had a family he couldn’t leave behind..... bro he really got me (and the avengers) there. do you really think THE tony stark could ever live happily ever after knowing half the world was dead? either he’s going to die trying to bring them back or he won’t be able to live with himself at all. the simulations were such a satisfying move. his conversation with pepper. her telling him he wouldn’t be able to rest. it was tony asking permission but also telling her that he was going to go and leave behind their life to do what he had to do. the subtext of that whole scene was really fantastically done.

PETER AND TONY. THE PHOTOGRAPH. HIM LINGERING ON THE PICTURE OF PETER LIKE OF FUCKING COURSE HE HASN’T HAD A MOMENTS REST NOT THINKING ABOUT HIM.

so anyway. tony invents time travel. we love a genius. he also invents an infinity gauntlet. incredible.

i was holding my breath the entire scene of tag when they were tossing the gauntlet back and forth mf wAITING for it to land near enough to tony. i knew it was coming but like,,, jesus christ part of me wasn’t sure when they had bruce do the snap. they skipped a lot of the technicalities of wielding the actual gauntlet (like not going mad from power and having the whole weight of the universe inside your head at your fingertips) probably to keep from weighing the story down but THAT would have been a brilliant touch to seeing tony finally getting the stones. and having them slot into place on his OWN GODDAMN ARMOUR. TONY STARK FUCKING DID THAT.

“i am inevitable.” “I AM IRON MAN”. literally the most iconic line of the entire marvel cinematic universe and tony gets to say it as the biggest fuck you the biggest villain they’ve ever faced. loved it.

so yeah the gamma rays taking tony, baseline human out, vs. bruce was a much less satisfying end than having it be the weight of the whole universe and the promise of madness and infinite power. but this is the ending tony deserved. we always knew that one or more of the OGs would die and it was tony and this is exactly the way this should have gone.

tony died saving the entire universe. he died sacrificing himself and HIS future with his family for the avengers and for the universe. the story of the mcu begins and ends with his sacrifice. he wouldn’t have had it any other way. to know that what he did, what he’ll be remembered for, is saving the universe. it validates all the selflessness and heroism and grace we’ve always known he has when it comes to being a hero. tony isn’t the hero that gives speeches and moves peple to action, he’s the hero that just DOES the thing that needs to be done. the one that will lay his life down on the line to let everyone else crawl over him because he wouldn’t be able to live knowing he hadn’t done more. him dying meant that he’d finally done enough. he finally gets to rest. and getting to die surrounded by the ironfam was such a beautiful touch. tony stark is unquestionably a hero. his legacy will always be one of sacrifice and heroism and creating the possibility of a better future. he has always, constantly, relentlessly been working to build a future he will never see that is better and stronger and more resilient than the present; it’s inherently a part of being a futurist that he will never get to see this world that he’s willingly given up everything for. and in the climax of the final battle, he gave up HIS future so that the rest of the universe could have one, and if that isnt the most tony stark thing i’ve ever heard idk what is.

the unsolvable problem of the avengers

how do you write the culmination to a grand universe of 22 movies with the avengers being the cornerstone of that massive cinematic vision when your avengers aren’t even really a team? what are we supposed to root for when none of them seem to visibly friends or even like each other except when they’re in pairs? what “TEAM” are they referring to?

the avengers from day 1 aren’t a team. they aren’t a family. there’s no sense of camraderie in any of the movies between them all as a unit.

we had ONE scene of teamwork in the movie where they were locating the stones and planning what to do with them. the shot of nat bruce and tony lying on the conference table was great, but unearned. why should we care when they haven’t shown us how these people care about each other outside of saving the world once every few years? we don’t watch superhero team-ups for the cool fight scenes we watch them because we want to see these heroes actually care about each other and the BOND between them that makes them a worthwhile team on AND off the battlefield.

there’s no sense that even strategically, they work well as a team. steve is the leader sure and tony provides the tech but apart from that? there’s no spark. there’s no connection between them that makes us thing oh shit, this could really work. they’re on the same wavelength. they’re going to try and do the impossible and it shouldn’t work but it just might because it’s them.

cannot emphasise this enough: not enough carol danvers. she was yeeted out of the movie after her intro and then came back for the final battle and that was it. she should’ve been THERE in the war room coming up with plans and going to the space destinations with the teams. it was ridiculous to have the future leader of the avengers and the legacy of the mcu not be front and center with the (non-existent) team dynamic. it fucking bewilders me that CM could write and develop a fury + carol friendship better than her dynamic with ANY of the avengers, her future friends and teammates.

so, the avengers aren’t really friends. they’re coworkers who occasionally put up with each other to save the world and that’s fucking depressing and arguably why all the avengers but tony were so badly fucked over in the character development and ending of endgame.

the bad shit (full circle rip)

thor and bruce were treated like comedic relief for too much of the movie. i wasn’t expecting bruce to have much of a storyline because he never does but his conflict was solved with a handwave explanation in the beginning “oh i have the best of both worlds now, i’m both banner AND hulk the brain and the brawns”. was such a bizarre fucking feeling. and the insinuation that he’d just been chilling in the 5 years post snap with his new updated hipster wardrobe taking pictures with fans??? what the fuck? what kind of storyline is THAT? he should’ve been WITH natasha helping her deal with the fallout of the snap and working with the remainders of the team. what the fuck.

thor was done EVEN dirtier in this respect. it’s as if all the ugly stans that hated and mocked tony’s im3 ptsd storyline decided to put their messy caricature of him into a character arc. hemsworth pulled it off, to his credit and comedic delivery, but it wasn’t a story fitting of the mighty thor. there IS a way of writing thor going through trauma, trying to process the loss of his entire world and family and people, without reducing him to an absolute farce. imagine a thor, treated with gravitas and respect, lost and kingdomless and peopleless wandering the world, a recluse and a hermit, like the better side of the coin to hawkeye, but being called back to heroism because he couldn’t stand by and do nothing. idk if its the taika effect or just the massive turn that the thor trilogy took but i think the overt humour was the wrong way to go with thor and it made his entire storyline seem regressive and like they were laughing at him more than they were laughing with him. i would’ve accepted taking a leaf out of dc’s book (i.e. diana and arthur in JL) if they had to go down this path with thor’s story, of having him retreat from the trauma and grief of what he’d lost. because his pain was understandable, you could very clearly sympathise with what he’d been through but they turned his pathos into bathos and let his storyline play out in jokes instead of being the noble warrior and hero finding the strength to believe in people and have hope and fight for the world again. endgame really made a mockery out of thor’s legacy and not knowing if there’ll be another thor movie............... god he deserved better.

clint?? we don’t speak of mcu clint but idk. i gUeSs the russos achieved what they thought they wanted to achieve with ultimates clint going full rogue and becoming a lawless deadpool but without the jokes. (ugh 616 clint... you will always be the only clint ever.) of all the characters that SHOULD have a lighthearted ironic storyline, it’s CLINT BARTON. he semi redeemed himself by wanting to die instead of natasha??? thereby absolving him? idk whatever lets not think too hard about mcu clint.

i think most of fandom has long given up on mcu natasha so it’s less an issue of “this isn’t the natasha we deserve” and “well how badly can they fuck this up”. i think natasha’s development was well-handled and it was a Relief to have her final moment be between her and clint, purely driven by platonic love and all the shit they’ve stood by each other through. i don’t know that she needed to die, clint easily could’ve fallen instead of her lmao. but her being prepared to die for the fate of the world has been a theme since aou and i was glad it played out her seeing the necessity and pragmatism of sacrifice. i liked how she said “you think i want to do this?” because of course she doesn’t, ofc natasha romanova who’s lived through the rise and fall of empires and died so many deaths, wants to live. but she’s also a hero, and she’s spent so many years working to be a better person (when she said the avengers made her better g o d loved that line) and she knew what she had to do. idk that this was a fitting end for her but i thought her character development was well done (even if the team itself is a shallow non-existent “family”) and her sacrifice, alongside tony’s saved the universe.

ok don’t let the shortness of these points belie how much they annoyed me but CAROL deserved more screentime RHODEY deserved more screentime. SAM AND BUCKY deserved more. for characters that are so charismatic and bring so much life and dynamism to the avengers it was a fucking shame that they didn’t make the most of them. carol and rhodey especially. the lack of carolrhodey air force interactions and tonyrhodey was offensive.

sam getting the shield and the little moment of passing the shield was amazing but At What Cost

so..................... steve. oh boy. oh fuck here we go. the mcu has never known what the fuck to do with steve and i have written countless answers and thinkpieces and meta posts about it. the most heartbreaking part of steve’s story is that the avengers is literally his life. it’s tony’s life. and it is to many other avengers but all of them have always had something else to fall back on. steve has always only had the avengers, or the army or SHIELD or whatever affiliation he’s currently part of. his purpose and his drive is part of the team and whatever Thing he’s part of that he can throw himself into and embody. not having the avengers be a fully functioning team and misfit found family really handicapped his entire storyline and possible development. you could argue that steve found a family with the capfam but it’s really having a Team of people to lead and befriend and become family with that’s integral to steve’s character. his story as steve rogers, not captain america, is about finding a home and a family in the 21st century. making peace with what he’s lost in the past so he can live in the present and fight for the people of the present and future.

it’s ironic and tragic and an absolute abomination for steve’s plot to literally be about regression. as if nothing has changed. he hasn’t learned anything from tws he hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t been able to let go “but not us” (AND WHY THE FUCK NOT RUSSOS?) he hasn’t been able to grow or make peace or find catharsis. he was SUPPOSED to, burying peggy, letting go of her. getting bucky back. but the setup of the mcu and the failure of the avengers as a team and family has actively kept steve from being able to ground himself in the present. the mcu ripped sharon carter right out of their universe so she never stood a chance. bucky had to go back under ice. natasha was running point with the 5 years later vengers. so in the end capfam is just???? sam and steve? his only support system is two and a half people?? it fucking breaks my heart. steve DESERVED a family. steve DESERVED a home. and even if mcu wasn’t going to let that be all tony stark-related there should’ve been SOMETHING.

of all the endings they could’ve pulled out of their asses

of all the fucking endings

this shit was straight out of the comics

straight out of the bad place darkest timeline scenarios

the ramifications of it all. hydra? bucky? sharon? homewrecking peggy’s own family and happily lived life just to get them back together? steve willing to risk it all for a dance and a woman he knew for a few months over the friends he’d spent nearly a decade with? we’re supposed to believe THAT’S steve rogers???????????

a literal fucking mess.

captain america as we know him in mcu ends with tws thats it

also, my expectations for stevetony was 0 but we got more than i thought we would. there was no development in terms of their actual relationship but as the filthy stevetony shipper i am happy with the cheap meal we got. there should’ve been a conversation between them about what happened, about what went down, something to tie together the avengers and the “trust” they wanted to establish between them. something like tony keeping the phone with him all this time. a little comic parallel “we still friends?” “never stopped”. just. Something. we needed more than “you trust me” “i do” in the time crunch of a mission. it was unearned. idk how this conversation would go, literally there are a hundred choices that i’m sure we’ll see play out in fic but one final big conversation between the two cornerstones of the mcu involving heroism, sacrifice, where they stand as heroes, how they see each other, who they are to each other. something like tony and steve always, at the end of everything, at the heart of who they are, seeing through each other’s masks and facades and personas and SEEING who the other person is. a tiny mcu nod to “you gave me a home” that ties the past and present and future together. tony believing in steve. steve believing in tony. i could’ve forgiven mcu all it’s other stevetony sins if we just had that.

just spitballing but – tony: you know, i never wanted to be a part of this thing. the super secret boyband. it was never supposed to be me. steve: we made it work though. for the most part. until we didn’t. tony: even when it looked like there was no way of ever getting the band back together a part of me still believed you. gullible of me, i know. but i wanted to think that if there ever came a time when we had to make one last stand, as avengers, we’d do it together. like it was always meant to be. steve: i know. tony, i – tony: i should’ve called. steve: it’s a two-way line. i could’ve, too. tony: that’s how it always seems to be with us, huh? shoulda woulda coulda. always just missing the mark. always just out of reach. steve: i’ve thought about it a lot. about what i would’ve done differently. what i would’ve said. tony: that’s why you need me, cap. i mean, hell, it doesn’t have to be me but we all need someone to tell us to get over ourselves sometimes. to stop beating yourself over the head with your own mistakes. steve: [laughs] that’s rich, coming from you. tony: maybe. but i’m a firm believer in second chances. steve: you think that’s what this could be? a second chance? tony: i know it. futurist, remember? i’ve seen it all happen. steve: oh, good. we could use one of those. maybe you could tell us if we survive tomorrow and save everyone. tony: we will. because things are different this time. steve: this time? tony: the way it should’ve been. you and me and everyone else. together. we can win. steve: now who’s the one with the giddy optimism? tony: i prefer to call it hopeful pragmatism. after all, i’ve run enough simulations. steve: i do, tony. i trust you. tony: well, we’re betting the future of 5 billion lives on this. steve: i know. and there’s no one i’d trust more to do it.

#endgame spoilers #avengers spoilers #a4 spoilers #spoilers #type: text #text: meta #universe: mcu #film: endgame #original: meta #@

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mintchocolateleaves · 5 years ago

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Match-Made (1/4)

Summary: Whilst spying on David one day, trying to come up with new ways to break him, Max, Nikki and Neil come to realise that the man is... married? But - of course not. There's no way that could be true. It's - it's David. Who would marry him? It seems like they're going to have to figure it out.

A/N: Y’all know I started to watch camp-camp, and this is the product of that. Hope you all enjoy. If formatting decides to fuck itself up, then here’s the AO3 link.

It had been just another one of those boring days at camp trying to keep themselves entertained. Skipping out on awful camp activities with poor, crappy resources, and trying to come up with an adventure of their own was nothing short from normal for them.

Nikki had wanted something more fun, Neil had wanted something a little less mind-numbing, and quite honestly, Max just wanted out.

Any time away from David and that overbearing intensity would be a godsend, and so leaving behind the god-awful cross-stitching camp hadn’t been a difficult decision to make.

Sure, they’d have to deal with David’s poor attempts at scolding them later, but they were going to have to hear it whether they disappeared for the day or not. The counsellor had a habit of calling them out on every ‘inappropriate’ thing. For swearing, for being mean, or cruel, or whatever else fell outside of overbearingly happy children.

Newsflash David, you’re telling kids to stop being fucking kids.

Either way, they just needed to get away from him for a while. To be in a David-free zone for just a little longer than the eight hours they slept.

“I miss Saturdays,” Nikki said, finally, as if the day had been cancelled. As if it wasn’t Monday, and they hadn’t only just had the weekend to themselves. “We always get to go into the forest on Saturdays.”

Well, technically they were in the forest now – all the fucking time, really, since they were stuck at this shitty camp – but they were allowed to roam a little further during the weekends.

“We go into the forest all the week,” Neil said, tone bordering on a whine, “I want it to be Saturday so I can go on a computer without someone telling me I’m being antisocial.”

Max shrugs his head, jumps over a log in the pathway and says, “You know why you guys miss Saturdays so much?”

He phrases it by a question, but really, he doesn’t want them to offer any answers. He just wants his friends to wait for the answer, to anticipate the scheme that might be forming in his head.

“I just said why I missed Saturdays,” Nikki says.

“Because the adults don’t have to spend all their time with us,” Max says. “Because we’re not stuck doing shitty activities, and the counsellors leave us the fuck alone as long as we’re not murdering each other.”

Nikki nods emphatically, and for a moment, it’s almost possible to see the memories of last weekend swimming through her eyes. Possible to see how they’d been left alone for a full day until she tried to throw Space-kid across the lake in the mechanised sling-shot she’d had Neil help her make.

“There’s no way we can stop that though,” Neil says after a while, and from the way his nose scrunches, it’s clear that the boy has spent time trying to figure out ways to achieve more computer time, but so far, has come up short. “We’re lucky we only have to do five days a week of activities.”

That’s alright, Max is more of the diabolical genius of the three of them anyway.

“I didn’t sign up for any of these shitty activities,” Max says, “and I’m sick to shit of being forced to do them.”

“…Revolution time?”

A sigh. “No Nikki, we tried that last week, it didn’t work.”

“Part two could be better though.”

Max appreciates the thought, honestly, he does. But the last time they revolted, he’s ended up shirtless, fighting back against the man and his other camp mates, because they’d all thought Erid a better leader than him.

Fuck that noise.

“What we need,” he continues, “is to find a way to make the counsellors agree to leave us alone.”

Nikki’s eyes shine, and she jumps forward as she realises what he means. She shakes his shoulders back and forth, ignoring the scowl she receives as Max tries to push her back. “We change the calendar so that every day is Saturday!”

Well – uh, not exactly what he meant, but the sentiment kind of stands. Sure, why the fuck not.

“Make every day Saturday.”

Neil, always the one who questions the plans, says, “I doubt we can just convince people that every day is Saturday.”

Fuck, honestly, Max thinks that they probably could if they came up with a crazy enough story about inter-dimensional time travel, and Groundhog Day. David would probably buy it, because the man’s a fucking idiot.

Convincing Gwen that the day was just repeating itself wouldn’t be so easy though. What with how often she read those werewolf fanfictions on her phone all the time, she’d go onto her email searching for any updates and immediately know the truth.

Maybe if they found a way to commandeer her phone so she wouldn’t be able to search things all day…?

He needs to stop.

“That’s a mindfuck that can wait,” Max says, “but we so could. No, we get them to leave us alone through blackmail.”

If it were anyone else but the kids at camp, talk of blackmail would be met with horror, or confusion. But here, at Camp freaking Campbell, he receives two looks of equal contemplation, considering how easy such a task would be.

It all comes down to blackmailing three people, essentially.

Quartermaster, who they kind of… don’t really need to? He tends to stick to himself, which is always good because Max is pretty sure that the man is a fucking sociopath.

Gwen, who – well, she doesn’t really care enough about the camp, so it’ll be really easy to blackmail her. They can find something easily enough – it’s always simple to narrow down what she cares about, since she doesn’t feign caring about other things.

The person who’ll be the hardest, will be David.

“Does David even have anything that we could blackmail him with though?” Nikki asks, “he’s like, so shiny and bright.”

Max scowls. “Someone like him, is bound to have some things he’s keeping secret from us.”

He still doesn’t believe that someone like that, someone so bright and happy, doesn’t keep things hidden beneath a layer of faux optimism. He’s probably got some fucked up secret that they just need to figure out.

“Maybe,” Neil says, “but it’s David.”

Max crosses his arms as if to say, he doesn’t care. Their new task of the day, is to spy on David and find a way to blackmail and ruin his life. And oh yeah, get the whole Saturday being every day thing put in place.

Honestly, just messing with David seems like it could have been the initial plan, but the others are more likely to help out if there’s a clear reason behind it.

…Well.

Actually, fuck that, he probably could have just said it. Nikki loves anything chaotic, and Max is pretty sure that Neil is still outraged over the lack of a proper lab at the camp.

“We’re going to find a way to fucking blackmail David guys,” Max says, crossing his arms. “And when we do, every day, will be fucking Saturday.”

Which leads them to now, using the other campers as a distraction, some early set disaster as a distraction, so that they can clearly search the counsellors cabin. The place has fucking air con in here.

Max resists the urge to cut the wires of the air con and puts it in mind for later instead. Why the fuck do the counsellors get to be chilled during the evenings when the rest of them are stuck in fucking tents?

Yeah, there’s a bit of a imbalance in the way they’re being treated, and Max isn’t blind to it. This is exactly why he rebels against the man.

“I ask to watch TV and I get told I’m not taking advantage of nature and my surroundings,” Neil says, as he pushes the button, the screen flicking on, greeting them with grey static.

The sound of static is like a bursting explosion, and Max leans forward, past Neil to shut the TV off before anyone hears, before the sound can give them away.

“We’re meant to be being stealthy Neil,” Nikki says, and from her, it seems almost hypocritical. Although – well, she is okay at being stealthy sometimes, he supposes.

“I don’t understand why the sound was turned up so high though,” Neil says. He pauses, “I mean, your hearing doesn’t go that bad by twenty.”

Who knows, Max thinks. His twenties are an entire lifetime away and he’s not really thinking about the quality of his hearing.

“Right,” Max says. “But we’re here for blackmail material, not a hearing test Neil, jeez.”

Neil just gives him a look, and says nothing.

But nah, loud TV isn’t a blackmail opportunity. Max reckons that Gwen turns it up so high so she can block out the sound of the camp when she’s not got to deal with them – or even to just block out David.

“Who cares,” Nikki says, and points towards the drawers by each bedside. It’s easy to tell whose side of the room is which based by which side has more sentimental crap in it.

David’s side has a photograph of the camp that’d been taken at the beginning of the summer, everyone lined up and pretending that they were happy to be in the photograph. It’s such a fake photo, but still the man has it framed, on the drawer, beside his alarm clock.

Gwen’s side doesn’t have an alarm clock, but maybe that’s because she’s sane and not a horrible morning person like David is. Always waking them up at ungodly times when quite frankly, he’d much rather they all get to sleep in.

“Nothing blackmail-y yet though,” Nikki says. With little regard for personal space, she pulls open the drawers, rifling through in a way not unlike a raccoon going through the trash.

“We’ll find something,” Max promises, standing beside her to peer into the drawers. Sometimes Nikki overlooks things that aren’t cool, or dangerous, and Max wants to make sure they don’t overlook anything.

“You keep saying that,” Neil says, “but what if we don’t find any blackmail material?”

Max pauses. Considers it. Then:

“We’ll make blackmail material then.”

Neil nods his head, as if this is perfectly logical, and not simply a dick move. Whatever, they want their Saturdays and there’s nothing else to do in this fucked up excuse for a camp anyway.

Max goes to open his mouth, pauses. Then, with the urgency of a thief knowing there’s a cop nearby, he grabs the sleeves of both Nikki and Neil, shoving his friends down and under David’s bed.

Hitting his head as he shuffles under, Neil lets out a small groan. Max resists the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up, since he also, should be shutting the fuck up.

Footsteps echo as the cabin doors swing open. Except, it doesn’t really swing open, but rather, is thrust open with far more energy than necessarily. David then, because Gwen would never open the door with such energy.

David’s voice follows suit.

For some reason, there is a hint of stress – not unhappiness, but an urgency that he shows sometimes, whenever there’s a task he wants to start but they’ve hit time delays. Which is strange, because Max hasn’t ever thought of David as someone who knows what urgency means.

“Of course, I didn’t forget,” David calls, and then, after the door closes, his voice quieter: “Oh dang, I can’t believe I forgot to pick up the flowers.”

Flowers?

Max shares a look between his friends. David doesn’t usually pick up flowers, but rather, heads into the meadows to pick his own. He’d done it when they’d heard one of the women in town were ill, and another time when he’d –

Oh god, he’s totally got a date, right?

David’s a fucking romantic like that, of course he’d want to give someone flowers. God, even if they don’t have any

Their camp counsellor grabs his phone from his pockets, dials a number and holds it up to his ears. It’s impossible to hear the dial tone from under the bed, so Max reckons he’s going to have to find a way to infer everything from just David’s side of the conversation.

Not that it’s very difficult to do. David doesn’t really hide conversations.

“Oh hi Mr. Foster, it’s David, from Camp Campbell.” There’s a pause, and then, sheepishly, as he rubs the back of his neck, “yeah, I completely forgot the pick up for the bouquet was yesterday, I was caught up with activities–”

Another pause.

“You didn’t hold the bouquet back even the extra da–” David runs a hand through wispy red hair, “yeah, I know you don’t hold them back for customers who don’t pick them up but this is me – you did my wedd-”

Max has to slap a hand over Nikki’s mouth to stop the noise that builds against her tongue. Beside him, Neil leans up to pinch himself. David having had a wedding implies marriage – and who the fuck would marry that asshole?

“No, I know. I know. Can I get a bouquet made quickly then?” Another pause. “I understand it’s extra, but it’ll be our anniversary, and I–”

For a moment, there is silence. Then, a long, relieved silence is breathed into the air, almost like a dying gasp, almost like a gulp of someone who’s forgotten how to inhale.

“You’re the best sir,” David says, “-yeah, if you still have those lilac peonies that we had at the wedding, I just know she’ll love them. Yeah, thanks sir. I’ll pick them up tomorrow morning. No delays this time.”

The phone call must end, because David slips it back into his pocket, takes a moment to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt.

“That’s all dealt with then,” he says, “now back to today’s activities!”

Max can hardly keep himself quiet for the time it takes David to leave the cabin. He doesn’t know how the others manage it. They wait until the door is closed again, until they hear footsteps fade away into nothingness.

Then, slowly, the three campers slide out from under the bed.

“What the fuck was that?” Max says.

“David never mentioned being married before,” Nikki says, “I wonder if his wife knows how to fight a bear! I’d only marry someone who could fight a bear.”

Neil doesn’t say anything. When Max looks at him, the boy shrugs his shoulders, as if there are no words to decipher how the knowledge has thrown him.

“No, but seriously,” Max continues, crossing his arms. “Who the fuck would marry David?”

It looks like they’re going to have to find out.

#camp camp #cc david #cc max #cc neil #cc nikki #cc gwen #gwenvid #mywriting #fic: match-made #this fuckin thing exists now I guess - hope y'all enjoy it? but who knows #I just found the concept fun

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anistarrose · 5 years ago

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Fateful Detours - Ch. 2 (Gravity Falls x Infinity Train)

Summary: Stan and Ford have a rocky reunion, and Ford invokes the wrath of a scheming new enemy.

Warnings: description of a car accident (no injuries)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331070/chapters/48370201

(The Beginning) (The End)

Part two of three has arrived! And don’t get me wrong, I’m quite satisfied with the first chapter, but this one was much more exciting to write :)

***

(12 hours earlier, below a stormy afternoon sky in northwestern New Jersey…)

Stan anxiously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, checking his mirrors for cops. No one appeared to be tailing him.

Maybe the angry mob had been so hellbent on getting revenge in person that they hadn’t bothered to call the police, or maybe the police hadn’t thought a petty con artist was worth their time, but one thing was for sure — this was the fourth town Stan had gotten run out of this month, which meant that one way or another, staying in New Jersey any longer would surely just get him into even more trouble.

There was only one issue: as much as Stan once liked to brag about how he was going to sail away from that godforsaken state one day, he missed New Jersey.

Or, more accurately, he missed the childhood he’d spent there. He missed Ford.

“You cut that out,” he told himself, shoving the train of thought to the back of his mind. “You think Stanford would care that I feel homesick? He doesn’t deserve to be missed.”

His train of thought refused to go quietly, instead jumping straight off its rails. But you do miss him. That’s why you’re taking the longest possible detour out of Jersey, instead of just heading straight to Pennsylvania.

“Shut UP, Stanley!” Stan shouted, smacking his forehead, and the moment his concentration on driving wavered, his car went careening off the highway. He slammed on the brakes, but there was no traction on the muddy downhill slope, and the Stanleymobile kept sliding until a mighty oak tree intercepted it with a sickening crunch.

For a solid minute, Stan just sat with his head buried in his hands, afraid to even look at the damage. It was the passenger door area that had collided with the tree, so Stan himself had escaped any serious injury, but he didn’t know if the Stanleymobile — his only friend in the world, it felt like — would still be drivable.

Finally, he stepped outside in the rain, trudging through the mud without a single spark of optimism as he made his way around the El Diablo. One look at the front left wheel, pointing an angle it definitely wasn’t supposed to, told him everything he needed to know about whether the car could be salvaged.

He felt like crying, and had he been left alone like that for just one moment longer — his one possession of value wrecked in front of him, his already ruined life reduced to even more pathetic shambles than before — he indeed might have broken down and sobbed. But he was interrupted by a flash of light from the woods, and then another, and then countless more, until the flashing stopped and a constant, brilliant green glow was beaming out from between the trees. Beckoning him.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, but his hands were already opening the backseat door and pulling out the duffel bag that contained all his belongings. His feet were already guiding him into the woods, towards the source of the light…

It was a train, come to a stop right there in the middle of nowhere, advertising its destination of Pennsylvania in bright green letters.

And Stan, under normal circumstances, was not an especially trusting person. But today, for some reason — maybe out of sheer bewildered curiosity, maybe because of some sinister spell the train had cast over him, or maybe just because he had nothing left to lose — he found himself throwing caution to the wind, and stepping aboard.

***

Needless to say, when Ford barged into the rock-climbing car and shouted “What are you doing here?!” all angry and accusatory, Stan told an abbreviated version of the earlier events.

“Got in a wreck, needed a new ride, jumped on the train. Didn’t expect it to kidnap me into a wasteland full of cockroaches that try to suck my soul out if I leave.” His words came out blunt and flat, devoid of a whole flood of conflicting emotions that he struggled to hold back.

“You got off the train?!” Ford didn’t look worried about the state of Stan’s soul. If anything, he seemed incredulous at the notion that Stan would want to leave.

“Of course! Do I look like I want to be trapped in some — some sick experiment, or whatever this thing is? I wouldn’t recommend getting off, though — I kinda almost died.”

Please, Stan thought, please say something that proves you’d care if I did die —

Instead, Ford just stared down at Stan’s crossed arms. “Do you have a number?” he asked, as if that was a perfectly reasonable response to one’s estranged twin talking about their near-death experiences.

“Oh, have you already cracked the code? Have you figured out what the numbers mean using your fancy college brain?” Stan’s attempt to stay detached was breaking down more and more with each retort. “Yeah, I’ve got one, it’s —”

He held out his hand, then blinked in confusion. So did Ford.

“Wait, 153?” Stan asked. “It was 147 just a couple minutes ago! It’s been 147 the whole time I was here!”

“It’s lower than mine?” Ford muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Well, that certainly calls for some adjustments to my hypothesis…”

“So you don’t know what it means?”

“I’ve only been on this train for a matter of hours!” Ford shot back defensively. “I simply don’t have enough data points to conclude anything with any sort of confidence!”

As he waved his hands in the air, Stan caught a glimpse of his number — 163. So Ford was ten points ahead of him… or could it be ten points behind?

“But I will solve this,” Ford continued as he headed for the door on the opposite side of the room. “I’m sure one of the next few cars will provide some clues about —”

“Yeah, good luck with that door,” Stan interrupted. “The only key’s up at the top of that cliff.”

Ford tried to turn the handle, without success, and turned around to squint towards the roof of the car. “Ah. So it is.” He eyed the pulley system. “You couldn’t get up there on your own?”

“Look, there’s not a lot of handholds, okay? I’d like to see you do better.”

“Sure.” Ford picked up a harness lying on the ground, and gestured towards the pulley system. “That’s a manual pulley, right? With two of us here, that’ll make the climb simple.”

“Yeah, but why I am I the one who has to pull you?”

“Because I’m lighter, and you have more upper-body strength?” Ford told him. “I thought that would be obvious.”

Truth be told, Stan didn’t exactly want to attempt the climb again… but as petty as it was, he didn’t want Ford to be the one who arrived and immediately saved the day. Ford was always the irreplaceable one, the star of the show, while it felt like Stan was just the opposite — the twin who failed at anything he attempted on his own, and only got anywhere by riding on someone else’s coattails.

He begrudgingly took ahold of the rope as Ford adjusted his climbing harness. “Okay, am I just holding on to make sure you don’t fall, or am I gonna have to lift you the whole way up?”

“I can support my own weight, for the most part,” Ford replied as he began to climb.

“You’re gonna want to move a few feet to the left,” Stan suggested. “You’re not going to get anywhere near the key if you climb straight up from there.”

“Really?” Ford craned his neck, trying to get a better view.

“Yes, really. Trust me, I can actually see the key without looking like an owl trying to turn its head around but failing because it had a broken neck.”

Ford reluctantly did as he was told, and the first three-fourths of the climb passed quickly and without much difficulty. But when he was just a few feet short of the key, Ford slowed to a halt, awkwardly glancing down at Stan.

“You… you were right, there’s not a whole lot of handholds or footholds up here.”

“Do you want me to pull you the rest of the way?”

“I don’t know… give me a second to try again here…”

“You better make up your mind soon, or my arms will get too tired to even get you down safely.”

“Alright, sure. Lift me the rest of the — woah!”

Stan pulled on the rope with all his strength, and Ford rapidly ascended past the rest of the climb. He pulled the key out of its slot at the top of the cliff, and let go of the rock wall altogether as Stan lowered him to the ground.

“That’s all?”

“Well, I only saw one keyhole in the door.”

There was an awkward silence, as Ford undid his harness and walked towards the exit with Stan trailing a bit behind him. As little as a few months ago, a moment like this would’ve surely been accompanied by a victory chant, or a high-six, or something, but now all they had was… a quiet tolerance of each other, and it felt unrealistic to hope for anything more.

We’re both heading in the same direction, Stan realized. What now?

Maybe this quiet tolerance wasn’t so bad, if it meant he wouldn’t be alone.

“Hey, Sixer?” Stan asked as Ford opened the door, and Ford whirled around to look at him — not quite angry, but certainly confused.

This was a bad idea. Why did I have to bring it up? I probably could’ve kept following him, and he wouldn’t have said anything.

“I was just, uh, wondering… I told you my story, but how did you get on the train?”

Ford’s brow furrowed, his look of owlish confusion morphing into a scowl. “I missed my bus.”

“Why?” Stan blurted out, and immediately regretted it when he saw Ford’s expression darken even more.

“I took an ill-advised detour,” Ford explained, speaking in that verbose, detached way that he only really did when he was upset, “that I didn’t have time for. I had a moment of… nostalgia, and wanted to check up on our old project before I left town…”

Staring off into space with a distant look in his eyes, Ford didn’t seem to notice it, but the number on his hand dropped from 163 to 159.

“The Stan O’ War?” Stan asked. “You’re still working on it?”

Ford snapped back to reality, his wistful expression immediately vanishing. “Of course not. I wish I’d never even checked up on it in the first place.”

“Right,” Stan muttered. “Why would I expect anything different from you.”

Ford hurled the key to the ground, near Stan’s feet. “Sailing around the world was never going to happen, and we both should’ve known it!” he shouted. “You know what? I wouldn’t even be stuck on this goddamn train, if only we’d never gotten that ridiculous idea in our heads! Or, if only you hadn’t sabotaged my chances at getting a scholarship to any school other than fucking Backupsmore!”

He whirled around, slamming the door in Stan’s face as he bolted for the next car. Stan tried to follow, but found that the door had locked again, and wasted a few moments fumbling around for the key on the floor. By the time he got to the next car, he could see Ford standing on a raised platform near the opposite door, having already navigated the maze beneath him.

He locked eyes with Stan, no doubt expecting a plea for help. Expecting Stan to beg not to be left behind. (Again.)

But Stan realized — he didn’t want to give Ford the satisfaction of being correct. (Again.)

I can solve puzzles on my own. I can scale cliffs on my own. I’ll get off this train on my own, and then we’ll see who the dumb twin really is.

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” he growled. “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”

Even though the words came out of his own mouth, they still stung like a slap across the face.

For one single second, Ford looked caught off guard, but then he turned on his heel and left the room. Before the door even slammed shut, Stan’s hand began to flicker green as his number jumped up once again.

169

***

“I can’t believe I thought this place wasn’t half-bad,” Ford muttered to himself, cranking a lever that lowered a drawbridge into place and opened a path to the car’s exit. His hands were slightly greasy from slotting a dislodged gear back into place, and as he wiped them off, he noticed that his number was rising, passing 166 and going higher than he’d ever seen it.

He took note of the changes in a journal, and headed for the exit. In other circumstances, he might’ve wanted to stay a little longer and study the bridge mechanism, maybe even do a few sketches, but right now his heart wasn’t in it he just wanted to get off the damn train as soon as possible, which meant there was little to no time available for unrelated mysteries.

But as dejected eager to move on as he was, he couldn’t help but find himself captivated by the contents of the next car. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined every wall, holding carefully organized books, strange knickknacks, and a surprising number of yarn balls…

“Ahem,” began a voice from the shadows, interrupting his train of thought, “but did you not even think to knock? Have you no manners?”

The car’s resident slunk out from behind a table — a graceful cream-colored cat, dressed in a sharp navy blue suit and golden silk ascot. “Passengers these days, I swear…”

Ford ignored her, eyes glued to table’s contents. One compact device lit up as he approached it, displaying a waveform that oscillated in time with his footsteps, and he picked it up, snapping his fingers experimentally. One again, the display responded.

“You put that down!” the cat hissed. “My collection is more valuable than you could possibly imagine —”

“Oh, I’m sure it is. I’m so sorry,” Ford hurriedly apologized, lowering the device back down to the tabletop but still holding it between two of his fingers. Recalling childhood adventures in petty crime, he sought to create a distraction with his free hand, reaching for an astrolabe that sat on a nearby shelf. “What’s this? Is it decorative, or —”

“Don’t touch that either!” the cat yowled, springing up on to the shelf to snatch the astrolabe away. As she moved, Ford palmed the smaller device and slipped it into the pocket of his pants, and couldn’t help but smirk as the cat failed to notice.

“Okay, okay, I get the message. Is there anything in this room I can touch?”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of things in the next train car!” the cat hissed. “So go on, make yourself scarce!”

“But your whole collection is so interesting…” Ford replied, looking over the room and assessing which other items he might be able to sneak into his pockets for further study. “Won’t you at least tell me where you found all this?”

The cat blinked twice, and then the corners of the her mouth curled into a smile. “Oh, I can do better than that. I think I know just the thing that will interest you, Mister… what was your name? I don’t think you ever introduced yourself.”

“I’m Ford Pines, pleased to meet you. I didn’t catch your name either…?”

“I’m the Cat,” the Cat told him as she bounded from shelf to shelf. As she rifled through a stack of objects resembling sleek black cassette tapes, she still looked up to glance at Ford every few seconds, as if she still didn’t trust him not to touch her possessions.

“Now let’s see… ah, this edition should suit our purposes well. Just take a seat by the television, and I’ll get this documentary started!”

“What’s it about?” Ford asked, settling into the chair. “Any specific artifact or device in particular, or just a general overview? Did you produce and narrate it yourself?”

“Oh, I don’t want to give away the surprise,” the Cat told him as she inserted the tape, “but I promise, once it gets started, you won’t be able to look away.”

She pressed the play button, and Ford’s mind was filled with static.

***

In any other scenario, the Cat would have at that point taken a few moments to simply stare approvingly at her completed trap, but not five seconds after the television had turned on, the door to her car swung open again.

It took Stan’s eyes another second or two to fully adjust to the dimmer lighting, but not nearly that long for him to realize something was very wrong.

“What the fuck?” He bolted past the startled Cat, shaking Ford’s limp body by the shoulders. Some instinct told him not to look at the TV, so he locked eyes with Ford instead — with Ford’s wide open, yet glazed-over eyes that didn’t show a single spark of awareness.

“Ford, can you here me?” No response.

“Ford, I know you’re mad, but this isn’t funny!” Complete silence, aside from static crackling in the background.

“What did you do to him?” Stan whirled towards the Cat, who grinned sheepishly while slowly backing away. “What did you do to my brother?!”

“Oh, I just… introduced him to a meditative exercise! He was very excited to try it, you see, and requested that I not let anyone interrupt him —”

“Bullshit,” Stan growled. “I know a scam artist when I see one! What did you really do to him?!”

“He messed with my things and refused to leave me in peace!” the Cat hissed. “He had it coming!”

“Messed with your things, huh?” In one fluid motion, Stan snatched a ball of yarn of a shelf with one hand and pulled out a pocket lighter with the other, flicking the wheel a few times before a bright blue flame spluttered to life. “Tell me how to get him back, or I light this baby up and toss it at a bookshelf.”

The Cat gasped when he pulled out the lighter, but then unsheathed her claws and sneered defiantly. “If you’re both on this train, but traveling separately… well, his number’s already sky-high and only getting higher. He doesn’t want anything to do with you ever again, does he?”

Stan flinched, and the Cat smiled. “I assumed as much. You poor thing — all you want is to ‘get your brother back,’ but it’s already doomed to be a hopeless endeavour.”

Stan glanced back at Ford, slumped over in the chair and looking about as alive as a corpse.

“Maybe it is hopeless,” he admitted. “Maybe he never will forgive me. But if I left him here like this, I’d… I’d never forgive myself. I could lie to myself about it for as long as I wanted, I could remind myself how he wouldn’t do the same for me, but — but that wouldn’t make me feel any less terrible. He’s my brother, and I’m going to save him, because… because that’s just who I am.”

He unwound a strand of yarn, and dangled it over the lighter flame. Blue sparks traveled up the off-white string like a fuse, racing to engulf the entire yarn ball.

“And I’m also a person who meant what I said about burning everything in here. So for the last time, I’m asking you: HOW DO I SAVE MY BROTHER?”

“Playing on that television is a record of everything that makes him him,” the Cat explained. “If you look at the screen, you’ll join him inside those memories, but I can’t promise he’ll want to come back out with you. In fact, I’d bet against it.”

“I don’t care what you’d bet on.” Stan blew out the flame, and hurled the extinguished yarn ball at the wall. The Cat narrowly dodged the rebound, hissing as she ducked out of the way.

“Don’t worry, Ford,” Stan whispered. “I’m coming.”

***

(End notes:

Being with yellow eyes and fancy outfit: *exists* Ford: well, they couldn’t possibly have any ulterior motives!

Anyways, thank you for reading and as always, feedback/reblogs are appreciated! The third and final chapter should go up in early September, if everything goes according to plan.)

#gravity falls #infinity train #stanley pines #stanford pines #infinity train cat #infinity train spoilers #fic: fateful detours #rosalia writes fic

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