#her nervous system got used to THAT so she's always looking for that everywhere she goes

[wellfell]

i am starting to believe some of akina's bfs probably told her something along the lines of ' if your daddy issues healed you'd leave me ' and she's never really cared about it but i'm ready to write an essay why you're always with an angry man if you've grown up with an angry man in your house . anyway .

[ideaforfanficsorsomethingidgaf]

Little Oblivious Shooting Star Au

Although, this au is different. Stanford Pines shook Bill's hand and became his right-hand man and lover. Typical Evil Ford and all that, Weirdmageddon unleashes upon the whole Earth, devastation, chaos, and more. But this time, he still has some semblance of humanity in him.

Ford and Mabel, one of the very few survivors, were fighting. They always do this. Ford think it's a game and plays with her. Although, something happens. Ford did threw her a little too hard.

There was a sickening crack.

Blood was everywhere. He killed her. He cried and hated himself. After mourning, he had an idea. To revive Mabel. Now, revival wasn't something easy and believe it or not, it took him a century or more, trial and error with every ritual, potion, spell, curse, anything that had any semblance of bringing back the dead or revival.

All throughout, you know those cryogenic chambers where the Shape-shifter was now trapped in? Ford put Mabel's body in it to protect it against time. Any rare free time he'd have, he would stand infront of the chambers and place his hand on the glass. Looking at her serene and peaceful expression, she looked like as if she were asleep.

He would cry right there and then.

Soon enough, he finally was able to conduct the ritual and Mabel was alive again. But everything comes with a price. Mabel can't remember a thing. I got this inspiration from the fact that the brain and nervous system decays first soon as you as die because it requires oxygen, a constant supply of it.

Ford was a bit devastated but happy that he got Mabel back. Though, this gives him a higher advantage.

Being Bill's right-hand man and lover has given him many perks, including a mansion on top of a hill and large space of forestry. Ford used that to his advantage, uses Mabel's amnesia to his advantage.

Ford becomes overprotective of Mabel and spoils her every chance he gets. He keeps her sheltered away from the ruined Earth. He treats her as if she was his daughter as the line between daughter and niece blurred. He became so obsessed with protecting her, loving her, caring her, and even spoiling her.

Since she woke up and couldn't remember anything except for the basics like eating, writing, reading, and function like a human being, it was easy to somewhat manipulate her into staying in the mansion. In her time with him, she knows it's normal behavior, she knows it's a normal environment, that staying in the mansion and never going outside is normal because that's what he taught her.

He also twists stories about the outside world into a hellscape, manipulating her and scaring her. Think about the Rapunzel and Mother Gothel situation but this time, it's actually successful.

Ford still works for Bill Cipher and Mabel is always worried for him everytime he leaves because he did tell her the devastating earth stories from before. Mabel always cried and tells to not leave because she doesn't want him to get hurt.

Everytime he leaves, she's devastated and always begs for him to stay and it's always a bittersweet moment whenever he comes back. You know, at this point, he is so scared for her, so overprotective of her, with the help of the other henchmaniacs, he secretly conducts a ritual that makes Mabel immortal.

Mabel doesn't feel a thing. She doesn't know she's immortal, she didn't even know that she could die in the first place.

She will never know. She's oblivious to it.

Little Oblivious Shooting Star.

(I can't draw and rarely write fanfics so if you guys wanna add hcs, oneshots, fanarts, or anything, just use the tag #Little Oblivious Shooting Star Au or #L.O.S.S Au and tag me because I love seeing your guys' work, whether it'd be Tumblr, TikTok, Instagram, or even YouTube.)

[microfinanseer]

Neither Here Nor There

The end of August through Labor Day usually feels sluggish and extra lazy for me as I try to squeeze in the last bits of summer leisure out of the season. But not this year. Instead, I've been in overdrive working on our book project and then then made a visit to see my mom in the U.S. Also since last I wrote, my partner and I marked four months on this journey and have reflected on what it has already taught us.

We're making great progress with our book and are in our last weeks in the Yucatan before heading back to CDMX, where we will spend the last month or so of this adventure. It's hard to believe it has been over four months since we got to Mexico. And now we are less than two months away from returning back to the States at the end of October. It feels strange to write that. I wonder how strange it will feel when we return to the U.S. again.

I actually got a preview of that feeling while I was in Florida last week with my mom. It felt simultaneously foreign, familiar, and like a relief to not feel like the strangest stranger in the room everywhere I went. Though I still found myself speaking Spanish before English in a lot of situations, I knew how to navigate everything from the systems to the streets. I was relieved that my mom approved of the drafts we had written so far - I was a little nervous about what she'd think about the bits that are more based on fact than fiction. My mom told me she liked what she read and was pleased that I was turning a tough time in my life into something sweet. Then she said something that surprised me. She said, "Even though life was hard there very often, I still miss my old neighborhood [in Mexico]." I hadn't heard her articulate that before. And when I thought about it, I understood it more deeply.

Florida has many issues, and always has been a sometimes volatile and often shocking place. However, somehow it also feels like home to me whenever I'm there. It's where I had a good upbringing, moving there when I was 11 years old. I dreamt big dreams there, had supportive teachers and mentors to work to reach my goals, and made great, lifelong friends. I get there and even in the face of its wildness, I feel I can handle it comfortably. I sometimes even can enjoy it in spite of its many flaws and disappointments. Like my mom said, I guess I sometimes miss my old neighborhood, too. No matter where else I go or live, it hasn't felt completely like home no matter how well I've assimilated. And like my time in Mexico has taught me, just because my mom is from here doesn't mean it is instantaneously familiar to me. It has been challenging sometimes and I have felt othered here also, just as I have in the U.S. sometimes.

This last time in Florida during a longer period out of the country had me thinking a lot about my feelings of belonging or alienation, whether in the U.S. or abroad. I tend to always feel like I'm walking with my two feet in two different cultures. Never quite American enough, and then never quite other enough - my parents were each from Mexico and Bolivia, and among people from these countries, I often field the same questions about my heritage as I do from fellow Americans. "Where are you really from?" or "What kind of accent do you have?" It all leaves me thinking about what it means to be American anyway. Does anyone have a good definition anymore? Did we ever?

Today marks a somber anniversary for Americans. Later this week marks Independence Day here in Mexico, which is not on May 5 (repeat after me), but instead is September 16. It feels odd to be preparing for those festivities while also looking back and recalling a tragic day in my own country. I'm sandwiched between two worlds and cultures, yet again. Emotionally torn about where my pride and pain lives.

What my book work is continuing to teach me about myself is that I am everything I've experienced. Sounds simple, but can be easy to forget. I've learned from different countries and cultures and from diverse people along the way. I'm being reminded that no matter the road I've taken, everything I've seen on it has gotten me to this point right now. The joy, the sorrow, the challenges, and the privilege. I'm grateful for it all.

Until next week!

[ragingbookdragon]

Answered Call

Jason Todd x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, Blood & Violence, Mentions of Death

Author's Note: @bunnvoid didn't as but they're gonna receive because I'm only summoned when I smell angst brewing! Based on this piece that Bunn made and the sequel to this! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The first time he ever held a dead body, he was eight. He felt the warmth leave Martha and Thomas’ bodies, laid there between them, and sobbed for hours until someone finally decided to call GCPD and report the disturbance. The next time he held a body that was so personal to him was the death of his son, and by that time, Jason’s body had already gone cold. He grits his teeth as a tear slides down his cheek from under the mask, refusing to look over at Jason curled up in the passenger seat because if he does, he knows he won’t be able to keep it together long enough to get back to the cave, he’ll break down there. He’s already called ahead, knows Leslie is there, knows Alfred and the others are standing by waiting for their arrival. He just hopes he can make it in time.

Cassandra’s ahead of him on her bike and he knows she’s trying to get them down a street that isn’t crowded, but every one is seemingly packed with people and Bruce can’t help but feel anger well in his chest. His son is dying, and these people won’t move. She screams at the top of her lungs for him, and Bruce has never heard her yell so strongly.

Suddenly, she sticks her arm out and makes a hard left turn, so sharp that her body brushes against the pavement as she does and Bruce only has time to make the turn, then slam on the breaks as he sees Cassandra’s body turned to the side, feet planted firmly on the ground.

He follows her line of sight, and it shouldn’t send shivers up his spine given the fear in his heart, but goosebumps trail up his arms and legs at the sea of flashing blue lights before them. He doesn’t even have time to ask when he sees the green line on the comm click and an all too familiar voice echoes on the line.

All units we’ve got a 10-59 coming down the main street. I want roadblocks on every east and west intersection and street. I repeat, I want 10-93’s on every intersection and street going east and west. Clear the roads. No one goes through except Batman and Black Bat.

Cassandra only revs her bike once, then she’s peeling out in a hail of white smoke as her tires spin and she speeds down the street, Bruce on her tail like a bat out of hell. As they pass, he sees some officers setting up blockades with their cars and barriers, others are moving people left and right, but the majority of them are simply standing in front of their squad cars, right arms cocked up in salutes. Bruce doesn’t have time to admire their dedication because all he can think about is that while the gesture is one of respect, all he sees is the image of a funeral procession.

He shoves that thought as far from his mind as he possibly can, but it decides to stick in the back of it, like a dogeared page. Jason hates it when people dogear books, he thinks. He always says it’s a sin against the very soul of the book.He has to take a deep breath to steady himself away from those thoughts. The last thing he needs is to be blindsided by something he thinks in the past tense.

“Move.” He commands to Cassandra, and she obeys, falling in beside him as he tears down the main street and out onto the highway in the direction of the cave, the purple flames of the afterburner propelling him faster. He watches the navpoint between him and the cave grow smaller and smaller, and it’s only rivaled by the faint and rare beeping of the heart monitor he’s got pinned to Jason’s chest.

Bruce is running out of time.

Jason is running out of time.

The water cascades over the front of the Batmobile as he enters the cave entrance and the titanium doors have already been lifted for their arrival. He keeps going, until he sees the levels of the cave before him. Bruce doesn’t slow, he pushes the Batmobile as hard as she’ll go and jumps her to the second level. The platform shakes from the strain, he sees things fall from shelves, but he doesn’t care because Cassandra appears beside him and she’s already coming to the side of the Batmobile to peel the door up.

Dick and Duke are there, already tugging Jason up and out and Bruce comes up behind them to pick his son up, managing to not jostle him too much as he runs to the operating table Leslie’s already prepared. He sets Jason down and her voice floods his ears.

“Get his suit off.”

Bruce works to undo the clasps and straps on the front of Jason’s suit, and he barely gets them open before she’s sticking heart monitors to him. Leslie turns, fumbling with the monitor and she sees it flicker, signaling Jason’s still with them.

Her eyes go back to Bruce. “List of injuries?”

He lists them with a monotoned fashion. “Shotgun blast to the abdomen, minor wounds to arms and legs, cut to the face—”

A spurt of blackish blood cuts him off and Leslie’s hands are already peeling away the torn skin and her face blanches; Bruce doesn’t need to see, he knows, even as she says, “He’s bleeding internally from his intestines,” her hands shift around, and she lets out a breath of shock. “Jesus, his lung’s been punctured. It’s filled with blood.”

Bruce is there, already grabbing a syringe with a long tube connected. “Which lung?”

“Left.”

He shoves away the fabric from Jason’s side, murmurs an apology, and shoves the needle up and into his lung. The blood immediately starts flowing from the tube and onto the floor, but he pays it no mind. “Suture his lung.” He turns his head. “Cassandra, get the oxygen mask. Put it on him.”

Her hands are swift, and he sees her grab Jason’s shoulder, squeezing tightly, her own agony written across her face. Leslie’s shifting hands make a squelching sound as she moves around Jason’s internal organs but she’s quick and sure once she moves to his abdomen.

“There’s buckshot everywhere,” she explains, “I need someone to help pick it out.”

It’s Dick’s turn to step up as he pulls on the long rubber gloves, holding the tray for her. Some she can pick out with her fingers, others she has to use the long nose tweezers. They get about halfway and Jason’s body suddenly convulses, his heart rate and blood pressure going wild, then he jerks, going still.

Leslie meets Bruce’s eyes for a split second, both of their expressions pure shock and then she’s pulling away, yanking off the chest monitors and grabbing for the paddles. He takes the needle from Jason’s lung, and she places the pads down, one on the middle of his sternum, the other just below it.

“Charging,” she says. “Clear!”

His chest jumps then falls flat back against the bed. Nothing.

“Charging! Clear!”

His chest jumps again, fingers clenching with the shock to his nervous system but there is still no pickup of his heartbeat.

Leslie’s breathing is coming out in pants. She’s scared. They all are. She inhales sharply. “You’re not dying on me, Jason Peter,” she gripes. “Charging!” she rubs the paddles together vigorously, then puts them back. “Clear!”

This time, Jason’s chest jumps and flattens, and they stare for a solid second, Leslie’s going to up the voltage when a beep echoes from the monitor. They look, not believing their eyes nor ears, but sure enough, it’s a steady pulse. Jason wheezes out through bruised and injured lungs, but it’s a breath, nonetheless.

They all breathe a collective sigh of relief, but Leslie doesn’t let up. “Dick, I still need your help with the buckshot.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice hoarse and sticks the bowl back out for her.

Bruce steps back. He lets her work, knowing he can’t do anything more.

He hears the children behind him, Stephanie and Duke are in each other’s arms sniffing slightly, and Tim is pacing back and forth along the walkway. An arm comes around his waist and he spares a glance down. Damian is there, his fingers are tight in Bruce’s utility belt, dark brows pulled together, a deep frown on his face. He lays his arm over Damian’s shoulder, palm flat against the boy’s chest, unspoken words of comfort between them. He feels another weight on his bicep and looks over, this time seeing Cassandra there.

She lays her head against his arm. “Scared,” she whispers and Bruce’s jaw clenches so tightly he swears his teeth are going to crack under the strain.

“Me too,” he manages to reply and Damian’s fingers clench as he turns his face into his father’s side, his small body shaking with every sob. Bruce wants to break down too. He wants to collapse at Jason’s bedside.

Jason don’t leave me again, he thinks, he prays.

“Fight, son,” he begs. “Damnit, fight.”

His children say nothing, but they know the worry built in his bones. Knows what Bruce stands to lose if Jason dies again. He makes a promise then and there, with a quick look back at the old suit still in the case—it seemed to be the brightest thing in the dim cave—he promises, with all the pain he’s feeling, he won’t look away from the outcome.

If Jason dies, he’ll stay beside him.

If Jason dies, he’ll hold his hand.

If Jason dies, he’ll be there to make up for when he wasn’t.

If Jason dies, Bruce will be there with him.

He won’t let his boy die alone again.

***

It takes a long time before Leslie is even close to finished with his surgery, but once she does, Bruce is the first person there, the others following up to Jason’s bed. They’ve dosed him heavily with morphine and other sedatives to keep him stable and Leslie steps back once she knows Jason isn’t going to flatline again. Her eyes find the young boy gripping the blanket tightly, only Dick’s arm across his chest keeping him from crawling up with his brother. She looks up, gazing into the eyes of a man who is starting to look a lot like the eight-year-old boy she once knew.

“I’ve done all I can,” she says, trying to keep the emotions from spilling over; she has to be the doctor right now, not the mother. “But it’s up to Jason now.”

They know what it means. It’s not a promise that he’ll pull through. Jason’s will was probably the strongest of their family, but they knew the young man was tired.

Bruce bends down and caresses his son’s head, pressing his face into Jason’s temple, his lips next to his ear. “I know you’re tired,” he whispers, so quietly it’s as if he wasn’t speaking at all. “If this is all you can do…I understand. If you’re ready…I’ll be right here with you.” His lids snap shut, and he feels the sting, so powerful, like he’d never felt in his life. “But if you’re not ready yet…then you have to fight. We still need you. Your family needs you. I need you.”

He pulls away and gives Jason’s head one final caress before he stands up straight and watches his son’s chest rise and fall evenly. He feels hands at his wrists, undoing the gauntlet but he doesn’t look away to see who it is, he merely lets them take them off.

Damian is perched between him and Dick on one side of the bed, Duke is at the foot, and Stephanie and Cassandra are on the other side. They all stand, watching, waiting, knowing it’ll be hours, maybe even days before Jason finally decides to wake up again, if he does at all.

And so, they wait.

***

“—ar death, who see with blinding sight, blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, rage, rage against the dying of the light.” Dick read the words softly, halfway through the book of poems that he’d found on Jason’s bedside earlier in the night.

He let out a soft breath. “And you, my father, there on the sad height, curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” He looked at the next page.

“Jason likes Keats more than Thomas,” Damian muttered, eyes still shut as he leant against his eldest brother’s chest. “Find When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be,” he said. “He likes that one.”

Dick doesn’t argue, merely going back in the book and finding where it’s located; when he gets it, he breathes deeply and clears his throat. “When I have fears that I may cease to be, before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, before high-pilèd books, in charactery, hold like rich garners the full ripened grain. When I behold—”

He quiets when Damian shifts, pulling the cape tighter around his shoulders for warmth; once he settles, Dick starts again. “When I behold, upon the night’s starred face, huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, and think that I may never live to trace their shadows with the magic hand of chance. And when I feel, fair creature of an hour, that I shall never look upon thee more, never have relish in the faery power of unreflecting love—”

Bruce overtakes him, voice low and full of heart as he finishes, “Then on the shore of the wide world I stand alone, and think till love and fame to nothingness do sink.” He doesn’t open his eyes or pull his hand away from where he’s got it pressed to his cheek. “John Keats was dying of tuberculosis when he wrote that.”

“He nursed his brother while he was dying of it too,” Damian adds, turning his face into Dick’s chest. “I will not nurse Akhi whilst he dies. He will live.”

They fall into a silence; Dick is still looking for another poem and Damian is trying to meditate. It’s a contemplation beyond what they want to think about, of life and death, twenty-five years is too young to die, and they can’t do it again.

Their silence is broken by a rough voice, scratchy from sleep and heavily laced with staved off pain, but it’s clear enough.

“Hey…old man,” Jason murmurs, and he can’t manage to take a look around at everyone, though he knows they’re there; but he can see Bruce. He can see his father.

Bruce grasps the only finger Jason can manage to raise, his body is still too weak to do much other than breathe, and he whispers back with a tearful laugh, “Hey son.”

[subwaysurf45]

Winter Makes Ice (Ep. 4)

Summary: you’re captured after a brawl at the Avengers building, Bucky and others must save you before Hydra makes a new Winter Soldier out of you, Bucky has given up that title.

Words: 4123

Episode: Four

Warning: violence, gore, description of violence, fighting

Masterlist! Winter Makes Ice Episode: Three

Time: 3:20am

Date: October 3rd 2024

Wakanda was always calm when Steve went, the people who lived there just seemed to understand the ways of life. There was never a catcall or fight in an alley, people greeted each other with kindness and a soft bow, Steve always copied but felt like he was too stiff when he did so. He found he walked with his back a little straighter and his chin a little higher, he felt unstoppable in the warm climate, filled with power and generosity. 

Natasha on the other hand hated Wakanda, not because of the people but for the same reason as Steve; it was too peaceful. She’d always get the dirtiest looks when trying to explain her case, no one seemed to understand the concept of ‘too much comfort is uncomfortable’. She ran to Bucky once after a moment and asked him why he liked it so much, she thought he off all people would hate comfort, he’d always be one to sleep on the floor because the mattress would feel like it was swallowing him. He just shook his head and shrugged, he’d never tell anyone why; Nat found out he never even told you. 

Natasha had been trained to trust no one other than yourself, but after escaping the Red Room she questioned the one in the mirror all too often. People would smile and while Steve smiled and waved Natasha thought of ulterior motives, why were they smiling to them and not the people slightly behind them? but then they’d smile to the people behind Natasha and she’d question if it was to cover themselves. The welcoming's to almost everywhere felt weird, she wanted to break in or have to fake her way to what she wanted, having doors opened for her felt like a slap in the face for all the things she’s done for those years before. 

“God, gives me the creeps,” Natasha faked a shiver, Steve just rolled his eyes. They were walking in the palace now, T’Challa would be waiting for them in Shuri’s tech room. 

Apparently Shuri had been wanting to try a new type of cuff, one made of- obviously -vibranium that tightens at a lie. There were little needles that poke into the culprit's nervous system, it picks up on someone’s sign that they are lying and tightens when the little pins are triggered. If someone's breath picked up or heart rate doubled, it would squeeze a little bit more until their hands were blue. Nat thought it was amazing when she heard it over the phone, her mind was picturing it the entire flight over. 

Steve had been thinking about Bucky, Steve was well aware of Bucky’s deep connection to you. You’d been dating for over a year and it was love at first sight (then Bucky quietly loving you from the other side of the room), Bucky was never one to fall for someone, he’d never have the confidence in himself that he’d be here for too long. But it was the little things Bucky began to do that made Steve appreciate you even more. He’d watch from his spot on the kitchen counter, quietly sipping coffee and reading the paper, which wasn’t actually paper because it was on his phone, while glancing over every so often to see you and Bucky in your own little world, both giggling at something. There's this moment for Bucky when he’d just look at you, Steve had seen it happen so often, like Bucky was taking a step back and realizing he had someone who loved him unconditionally. The laugh would die down and Bucky would whisper something, it would alway be along the lines of ‘thank you’ but it could change. He’d sometimes do it with Steve as well, both you and Steve would say the same thing, ‘no need to thank me, but you’re welcome’ because that’s what Bucky liked best. 

You were just an agent when you arrived, nothing more. Slowly you had gotten to know who everyone was by going out of your way to give out cookies to everyone who walked by you, it was a little thing Bucky seemed to really enjoy. After your talents were discovered from past jobs you were moved to a spy, you’d used to work for a private firm where they’d track down people who launder money, you’d have to get so much evidence it often led you to get jobs at mattress stores or random shops. With that and a lifeguard certification- that you got when you were a teen- under your belt you were perfect to be an agent, Fury introduced you to Bucky for combat training because Bucky needed to learn how to work with others; Steve actually told Fury to give Bucky the assignment. 

You’d spar everyday and the both of you would get into it. There would be times where you wouldn’t talk to each other for the rest of the day because the other cheated. Everyone would laugh but you’d take it very seriously, Bucky would always say you weren’t strong enough to go out into the field, so you lifted weights. He’d say you weren’t fast enough, then he’d see you sprinting on the treadmill a day later. 

Steve knew you were good for Bucky when you were about to start dating, it was at that part where you were going on dates but you weren’t dating. With all the things Bucky had criticized you on, you flipped it on him with one simple task: keep your fiddle-leaf fig plant alive. It would’ve taken Bucky one google search to find out that 61% of people can’t keep this house plant alive, it’s the hardest one to take care of. It was a metaphor of sorts, for you and for your relationship. 

It wasn’t a surprise to find it dead when you got home, Steve came to you with his shoulders slumped. Apparently Bucky had been crying for three days straight because he killed your plant and he thought you’d dump him because of it. It was the weird feelings when Steve saw you start to laugh, this was his best friend who was crying of guilt and you were laughing, he’d wanted to punch you square in the jaw. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked way too harshly. 

“Oh nothing…” you wiped the tear that had fallen. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry!” Bucky had left his room and came running to you, his face was red and his eyes were barely open from how puffy they were. He quickly pulled you in for a hug, “I messed up your plant, I’m sorry.”

Steve was getting redder and redder the more you laughed, “what’s so fucking funny, huh?” Steve boomed, he was getting protective. 

You had dropped the act then, both of them were very emotional at the moment and laughing wouldn’t be the best choice of action. “Don’t worry, Bucky,” you soothed him, “you weren’t supposed to keep alive.” 

“What?” he pulled away and sniffled, “but you asked me to-”

“To try,” you paused with emphasis, “and keep one of the hardest plants to keep alive, alive.” you smiled, “I was proud that I had kept it alive for as long as I did, but I needed to see what you would do with something like this.” 

“Why?” Steve asked for Bucky, still very protective. 

“Did you buy a new one and hope I didn’t notice?” You asked, Bucky shook his head no. “did you get mad at me because I gave you a stupid chore?” He also said no to that. “Did you make Wanda keep it alive with her powers?” all these options ran through Bucky’s head and he didn’t even think of them, “you put so much effort into this, and even if you did fail you still cared a lot, that’s all I ever want. I want this relationship to work and if you run at the first sign of adversity then this won’t work, but you buckle down and keep pushing, and if it doesn’t work? Then I know you actually cared, and you tried. That’s all.” 

“You’re a keeper.,” Steve said before walking away and giving them space to catch up. 

Nat waved a hand in front of Steve’s face, and it turns out he’d been staring at T’Challa for a while while he was talking. They had walked the entire way and Steve just stared at the ground with a blank expression, he needed to look out for you in order to keep Bucky sane. 

“S-sorry, I zoned out.” Steve straightened his posture a bit, hands on hips and shoulders rolled back.

“No worries, captain Rogers.” T’Challa spoke calm as ever, “I have the criminals in the room, they have the new tech that’s already set up, my sister wanted to set it up.” T’Challa opened one arm and guided them to the secret room where two men sat with their hands cuffed and on their laps. “Neither of them have any record of being born, probably a fake identity.” The king linked arms with Shuri and walked out of the small room. 

Seeing how grand and futuristic Shuri’s lab was made it shocking to be in a normal interrogation cell, two rusty chairs that were occupied and no table. Steve looked to see the single light that hung from the ceiling, it wasn’t a soft yellow like the one’s at the Avenger building but purple, vibranium always casted a purple/blue hue. 

“Where are you from?” Steve asked. 

“Iceland.” the one on Steve’s left answered. 

“Is Hydra now stationed in Iceland?” Nat cut in and asked. 

“One station, there’s many.” The same man on the left kept talking, the other one had his head all the way down with his forehead touching his knees. 

Steve leaned up against the wall, “you attacked Princes Shuri, why?”

“Because she is the one that made us start from the very beginning, she's the one that erased the trigger words from your friend and our weapon.” He snarled, “She needed to pay for what she did, we should have known Wakanda was the hardest place to attack, we’d need a Winter Soldier for that.” A smirk grew from the right side of his mouth. 

“What are you smiling about?” Nat pressed, she walked closer.

“Oh, nothing- ow!” the handcuffs tightened, his breathing rate doubled as he tried to ride out the initial shock. 

“Tell us!” Steve smashed the wall, causing a dent to grow from it. 

“Fine…” the man adjusted, “once we found out we’d never get our Winter Soldier back we quickly moved on, no one can break Wakanda’s tech, it’s impossible.” The man sighed and looked off, “so we chose to start again, make a new way, create a new trial. It’s safe to say we did.” he took a deep breath and leaded back against his chair, his fingertips were beginning to turn purple, it was difficult to see with the purple hue of the room. “When we attacked your building we didn’t want Barnes, we wanted someone, anyone. This girl was the closest to us, and it seemed to be the closest to Barnes, am I right?” he quizzed, seemed to be genuinely wondering. “She’d wake up and forget where she is, normally she’d pat the ground beside her and call out for a man named Bucky, that’s Barnes. It was the perfect choice, completely on a whim.” He looked at Nat, “she got her confidence from you, the entire time we were slowly poisoning her she completely believed she was here for ransom, it was funny to see her face when he told her what we did to her, how we now control her. The look on her face when we asked who wiped Barnes’ trigger words… She spit them out but her face was full of fear, her voice and thoughts weren’t her own.” 

“Why would you tell us all of this?” Steve asked. 

“I know I will die,” the cuffs didn’t tighten, “and my friend is already dead, I’d like to go with a bullet and not torture.” He looked up to them. “I think my father has passed, he worked for Hydra and I’d like to see him, to ask for forgiveness.”

Natasha pushed back the other man who hadn’t spoken a word to find his hands blackened and completely dead, the tightness had cut off all circulation. Right near the edge of the cuff and on the man’s skin was starting to split, there was no blood to leak out of the cut because there wasn’t blood in the veins, it was slowly falling and peeling away. 

“You tortured my friend- two of them actually!” Steve screamed, “I hope to god you die slowly.” Steve lifted his gun to the man’s face, he closed his eyes. But Steve moved the aim to the thigh, you had told him that a shot to the femoral artery was fatel after ten seconds of bleeding, you had also told him that the femur- which was what the femoral artery is attached to -is the most painful break for bones. 

So Steve shot at the middle of the thigh, he and Nat watched without emotion as the man quickly bled out, the blood squirted in the air and rolled down his pants. Blood coming from an artery is bright red and tends to squirt, but from a vein makes the blood more slow and dark. When the final squirt of blood managed to hit the man’s face, Steve knew he hit right on target; and that you were right for all those things.

Time: 5:59am

Date: October 3rd 2024

Bucky and Wanda walked through the forest, most of the leaves had fallen off the trees due to the season so they could see further into the thick woods. Not a lot of talking was happening between the two of them, Bucky was way too focused on keeping his cool while Wanda used her powers to see if there was any form of life around. 

The wind blew softly and the leaves that held on for dear life were now getting pushed aside off the flimsy twigs, they would fall and join the other countless leaves that met the same fate. Wanda loved the fall, she’d jump into a pile of leaves any chance she got. Right now she was purposely stepping on the ones that looked the most dry which would give a good crunch. Her nose was a little red due to the cold but everywhere else she was yellow and happy, it seemed she gave off heat.

Bucky hated the fall, the sound of stepping on leaves sounded like someone was right behind him. If there was a Hydra agent out in these woods they would have heard them from a mile away with all of Wanda’s jumping and giggling. Bucky loved Wanda in a motherly kind of way, but sometimes she was just too...happy…

When everything seemed lost, Bucky and Wanda’s phones began to vibrate, Bucky was quick to pick up. Both Bucky and Wanda made their way to a tree stump to take a moment to listen. Wanda sat on the ground floor and picked at the tons of leaves that covered the ground, she’d pick and rip them apart one by one. 

“It’s Steve,” Bucky whispered before picking up, “Steve?”

“Buck, you have to listen to me,” his voice was shaken and distraught, “I’ve sent the coordinates, she’s there but I don’t know how much of her is left.” 

“What does that mean?” Bucky asked as he looked over to see Wanda looking at the coordinates on her phone. 

“I don’t know how much has happened to her, they’ve brainwashed her.” Steve took a deep breath, Bucky could hear Nat in the background, “we have to act fast, we’re on our way, do not wait for us.” he commanded and Bucky nodded but he knew Steve couldn't see, there was a type of mind reading between the two of them that really came in handy for times like these. 

“Roger that.” Bucky hung up and began to move again, Wanda had read the location and it turned out they weren’t that far away, at the final stretch they saw the building through the empty trees. 

The forest had been cleared around the building, the grass seems healthy but it was starting to brown with the changing weather. The building itself was very small for it to be the most dangerous Hydra facility, it was only one story. There were no windows and the outer wall was all one grey colour, no symbols or tanks ready to fire; there wasn’t even a guard around the building. It seemed too vacant for it to be true, the wind seemed to stop as they got closer into the open field, it was completely still and almost dead. 

Bucky or Wanda actually had a plan, everything had been so fast there wasn’t anything drawn out or spoken about at some meeting, this was all instinct. Though there were no windows and security cameras they both knew something had to be watching the outside, they were low to the ground in the open field but the grass was way too short to cover them. Bucky had his gun ready while Wanda’s hands were in a position to create a shield for the both of them, at the sound of a vibration Wanda checked her phone. 

“Steve and Nat have landed, they are five minuets out,” she whispered. 

“Copy.” was all Bucky could think to say. 

Both of their backs smashed against the wall, with their final moments of bliss before fighting a couple deep breaths were taken and eyes remained shut. Bucky’s finger fiddled on the trigger of the gun, Imagining what it would look like to blow the man who hurt you to oblivion. Bucky moved further and farther away from his Winter Soldier thoughts, the mass murder and robotic revenge. But when it came to someone hurting you, he’d even put the mask back on.

On the count of three the door was bursted open, and right away agents on the inside began to fire. Wanda and Bucky took them down their own way. 

One agent was still alive, Bucky ran up and gripped his throat. “Where is she!” he screamed. 

“You’ll never know-”

A gun was placed to his head. 

“-Alright! Alright!” The man shrieked, “third door on the left, please don’t kill me!” the man cried. 

“I won’t kill you,” Bucky lowered his gun but the grip on his neck tightened, “I’ll torture you slowly before.'' His left hand gripped so tight around the agent’s neck he could hear the bone shattering, clear fluid from the agent’s spine leaked from his eye and ear before blood followed. Bucky watched emotionlessly as the agent’s face turned blue and almost popped like a balloon. “Wanda, get them all outside.” 

“Yes, sergeant!” Wanda yelled, she was fighting off everyone else. 

Bucky blew by everyone as they ran to see the commotion, so ran right by Bucky without thinking he was the threat. Wanda was now outside and in a matter of seconds the eeriness of the outside matched the inside, the air was still and stuffy, it smelt like the beginning of decomposing. Bucky had his gun ready but it seemed no one was in here, his only threat was you. 

Bucky took note of the stone grey floors, and stone grey walls, and stone grey ceilings. HYDRA didn’t put much money into design like the Avenger’s did, all the funds they collected went straight into the tech they made and Bucky was sure that’s why they were still around, they had so much money saved that they could pay people to turn their cheek and walk the other way. 

As Bucky scanned for something to give away where all the scientists were, his eye met another door in the very corner of the room, it was exactly the same colour of the stone grey walls but the brass door knob caught his eye. All you could hear was the boot of Bucky’s combat boots on the floor, his breath was even scaring him. His hand reached out for the door and when he opened it he found what he was worrying about. 

A cell. More specifically: an empty cell. 

There were chains hanging from the ceiling, one large cuff, one for what seemed to be used for a neck and then four cuffs for wrists and ankles. Bucky completely forgot where he was, he didn’t remember there was an entire lab behind him, all his mind was throwing at his memories of a cell just like this. 

Bucky didn’t remember much about cells in the early days fighting against HYDRA in a cell, in the 40’s. He did, however, remember what it was like to come out of ice when he was needed. The concept of life didn’t exist when he was frozen, it felt like a long blink, it didn’t seem like he’d been asleep for years.

He’d wake up and for a second he was still normal. He’d think it’s cold because it was winter and his house back in the 40’s didn’t have any type of heating system except for a small fireplace, his boots and pants were still on because he got hammered the night before- also explaining the headache -and just fell into bed. All his convincing would go away when his brain would fog again, and he’d look down and catch the shine of his left arm, all at once he’d fall back into place. The dissociating happens after dreams but it came from waking up and not really knowing who he was, as he’d walk to whatever commander was in charge that year he’d ask himself what he was, all the memories and answers in his brain would seem to pull further away, like a word in the tip of his tongue. 

He was ripped from his thoughts manually, he thought of you. He thought he was hypnotizing himself when he looked in there at first, too triggered by what he saw to think straight, but he took another moment to look, he saw the chains swinging back and forth ever so slightly.

His stomach dropped, he knew you were still in the room. “Sweetheart?” he called like he always did, “it’s Bucky, we’re gonna get you out of here, come out, baby.” he tried to sound as soothing as possible, he looked under every lab table and every chair. 

He flipped through pages on his desk, reading the details of what they did to you. “What is I.C.E.?” Bucky asked himself. 

“Injected Complying Enhancement.” 

Bucky turned as fast as he could to see you behind him. You were completely naked, body covered in dirt and grime, your hair was hacked and it seemed to have been pulled. Bucky just looked at your body, words were carved into your skin, every single one of them were infected, puss bubbles around the angry red scars. As his eyes trailed up he saw blue on your finger tips, then he reached your face to see a sunken cheekbone and massive cut on your forehead, but nothing compared to a generous piece of your nose hanging on by a thread, the tip was black. 

“Baby, do you know me?” Bucky asked through heavy tears, this wasn’t what he was expecting. 

You scanned over him, “Sergeant, James Buchanan Barnes, 32557038.” 

Right at that moment, he knew you were gone.

Winter Makes Ice tag list: @small-death-and-codeine​ @commonintrest​ @buckyys-doll​  @lil-baby-nor​

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[mythos-writes]

Trainee Love

Jethro x Reader

Plot: You were Hoppo's daughter and also worked with the boys in blue on Bondi’s beaches. When Jethro joined the ranks, they were the new trainees for the season. While being ripped into everyone during the summer and trying to prove their spots, something else forms.  

(For those who might not know, Roots is a Canadian brand that sells sweaters, sweatpants, etc. with the word roots on it, but in Australia, Roots mean something else than just the tree system in the ground)

Miscellaneous Masterlist

Warning: mentions of abuse, lifeguards saving people, words meaning different things (like thongs are flip flops), sappy 

Word Count:2.6k

​I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform.

Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Being the boss’s daughter was always hard, and for (Y/N)’s case, she had about 9 uncles watching her everywhere she goes on the beach. But this summer was going to be different. (Y/F/N) Hopkins was going to be a trainee lifeguard this season. For her it was exciting, but for Hoppo, he was nervous as he knows what the job entails. 

With that, it has all lead to this morning. (Y/N) was sleeping when she felt someone shaking her shoulder. She whines at someone waking her up so early before shaking them off.

“I am guessing that you want to miss your first day then?” her dad questions.

Her eyes shoot open and she quickly got up, causing her to fall out of bed. As she lets out a grown and stumbles to get up, Hoppo was quietly laughing at her antics. She looks over at him and glares at him, before getting up and stretching.

“Ok, I will let get ready and I will meet you in the kitchen,” he says before leaving her room.

She sighs before going over to the (one-piece/ two-piece) bathing suit before pulling on some gym shorts and the lifeguard blue top. She then grabbed a sweater to put on, as it is 5 am and it is still chilly out and made her way to the kitchen. As soon as she entered, her father handed her a breakfast sandwich. 

“Are you excited for today?” he questions while leaning against the island and taking a bite of the egg sandwich.

“Yeah, but not looking forward to them ripping into me cause I am the trainee,” she says. 

“Well, you won’t be the only one that they get to pick on this season. There will be a kid named Jethro joining us this season as well.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that there was going to be another trainee this season?” she questions him.

Hoppo chuckles at his daughters’ reaction before turning to her.

“Thought I would make it a surprise. Now, come on, we are going to be late opening the beach.”

(Y/N) finishes her breakfast before putting on her sweater. Hoppo turned to her and sees what sweater she had decided to grab.

“I hate that you got that sweater in a gift box from (Y/BF/N) when he/she went to Canada,” he complains.

She looks down to see she had pulled the salt n pepper-coloured sweater with almost velvet letters that spell out Roots and a small beaver on top. (Y/N) looks back up and just giggles while getting her thongs (FLIP FLOPS/SLIDES) on. 

When they arrived at the beach, there were already a few other lifeguards there. Some of them noticed that Hoppo wasn’t alone this morning and they knew who exactly it was.

“Good morning Hoppo and (Y/N)!” Harries yells from the tower, causing the ones who were close to the tower to look.

(Y/N) Looks out to see that Chappo, Beardy, Maxi, Matty Dee, and a new face. Harries brings her into a side hug while the others start to make their way up to the tower.

“Are you excited for your first day on the beach as a trainee?” he asks. She gives a small nod.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Awe if it isn’t (Y/N/N), now you get to run with the big boys this year,” Chappo teases. (Y/N) just rolls her eyes before lightly pushing Chappo.    

“Alright, you will have all day to push her around,” Beardy says with a small chuckle.

Before she could respond to his words, Harries jumps in quickly.

“Ok, before this can go on any further, how about we introduce our trainees for the season? (Y/N) Hopkins this is Jethro James, the fellow trainee this season,”

Her eyes fell upon a kid who looked to be 5’9 or 5’10, long blonde hair, with the same blue lifeguard shirt on.

“Hey, it is good to meet you,” she says with a smile while shaking his hand.

“It’s good to meet you too, these guys wouldn’t stop talking about you all set up,” Jethro confesses. She turns to the boys with a fack, over sweet looking smile.

“Awe guys, are you excited to work with me,” (Y/N) teases them.

“Of course we are, we get to be your babysitter, and get paid for it,” Chappo says, causing her to drop the smile and roll her eyes.

“Alright you bloke, let’s get our teams together before the film crew is on us, Hoppi and Chappo will be in the North end, Jethro and Maxi will be at the South end and Beardy, Matty Dee and myself will be in the tower and leaving Hoppo in the office,” Harries tells the group.

As they all agree with how the morning set up was, (Y/N) just looks at Harries with a disappointed look.

“What?” he questions.

“Hoppi?? Really?” (Y/N) questions.

“Yeah, your dad is Hoppo and you are Hoppi,” Harries says with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

The rest of the guys were stifling their laughs as she just glares at him. She grabbed her water bottle and started to spray him with it. This caused Harries and (Y/N) to run around the front of the tower and the rest of the group just laughing at their antics. Hoppo just shakes his head watching his daughter and his friends antics and thinking ‘It is to early for this.’ 

“Anthony Carroll you will regret that!” you scream, causing him to stop and laugh.

He turns and throws her over his shoulder and started to walk back towards the tower. As they were walking back, the sounds of the guy’s laughter relaxed (Y/N) just a little.

“All right you two, let’s get the buggy’s ready to go, so we can have a good first day for our trainees today,” Hoppo says. 

(Y/N) helped with putting boards on the buggies and making sure they all are stocked with first-aid. Chappo grabbed the keys and radios before he made his way to the blue rhino and met her down there. She puts her hair up and places her sunglasses on as the hot Australian sun starts to peek over the buildings looking over the beach.

“Are you ready?” Chappo questions while starting the buggy. (Y/N) smiles before answering.

“I was born ready.”

“That a girl,” he says before driving the buggy down to North Bondi.

After about 3 or 4 hours of watching the calm waters of North Bondi, Yatzey had shown up to take over. As they started to make their way back to the tower, her stomach growled. Chappo laughed at her but kept his eyes on where they were going.

“Lunchtime?” (Y/N) question.

Before he could respond, his stomach growled as well. Now they both laugh at their body noises.

“Definitely lunchtime.”

As they arrived back at the tower and walked up the stairs, Jethro and Maxi were back there.

“Hey guys, how was the south end?” Chappo questions.

“Had to make a few saves, told some people off when they wouldn’t listen, but nothing too serious,” Maxi answers.

“Well that’s good, I am going to go for my lunch now, does anyone want to come?” she asks.

Jethro looked like he was about to say something, but Chappo quickly jumped in.

“It’s all good (Y/N), we are going to eat in the tower,” Chappo replies.

“Alright, I will be right back,” she grabbed her things from the tower and walked to one of the restaurants on Campbell Parade.

Jethro POV

Once (Y/N) left, Chappo and Harries turned and gave me a look.

“What?” I question.

“You better be careful who you give googly eyes to, or you will have a whole fleet of lifeguards on you,” Harries explains.

“I know she is Hoppo’s daughter, but come on,” I defend myself.

“You are just lucky that you didn’t see what the last boyfriend did,” Maxi chimes in while looking out over the water.

I quickly shoot him a confused look. Now, this really caught my attention. “W-why what happened to the last one?”

The three didn’t say anything. I watched as they gave each other looks before one of them decided to speak.  

“She had introduced us to this kid named (Random boy name here) and he was nice, but had an off feeling about him. We tried to warn her about it, but she wouldn’t have any of it,” Chappo explains.

“One day she walked into the tower with bruises all over her body. Without even asking her what happened, we knew that he did this to her,” Maxi said.

“Luckily for us, she didn’t hide who did this to her, they had broken up the night before and he decided that he wanted to show his true colours,” Harries says, leaning on the rail.

“So, what happened to him?”

“That night, we decided to go to the Iceberg and have some drinks after our shift was done. Just to relax. When we saw (Random boy name here) walk in, we took this matter into our own hands,” Chappo says, making my eyes widen a bit. Before anyone could say another word, the door opened and (Y/N) walked back in.

Back to Normal POV

“I thought you were on lunch?” Harries question.

“Yeah, but I would be too lonely, so I grabbed a sandwich and came back,” she says while opening it.  

She then looks around to see the guys looking at her.   

“What?” she questions. They quickly averted their gaze away from her and back to the beach.

“Harries and Maxi, can you help me with some stuff that is in the storage area?” Chappo questions.

“Yeah, you two keep eyes on things, we will be right back,” Harries says, while Maxi and Chappo follow him out of the tower. This leaves the two trainees in the lifeguard tower. As (Y/N) ate her sandwich and watched the beachgoers have their fun. Jethro’s mind was racing.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Jethro’s voice breaks the silence in the tower.

“Yes, Jeff,” taking her eyes off of the water and turning to the blonde.

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after work tomorrow?” This question shocks her, but she smiles at him.

“ I would love to Jethro,” she replies. Jethro looked shocked at her answer.  His shocked expression quickly turned happy.

“We can get some food and hang out at Bronti,” Jethro suggests.  

That sounds perfect,” she says before they both turn back to watching the water.

~A couple of weeks later~

After (Y/N) and Jethro had spent their afternoon together, they were spending more time together, both during work and after work. The crew started to notice how often they were together and started to poke fun at them. This wasn’t new for trainees to be picked on and pranks being played on them, look back to Harrison counting people on the beach and getting sunburned, but they would do it to the two of them at the same time. But today seemed like a calm day from what they had been dealing with. 

As (Y/N) was returning to the tower, she saw a bunch of them and a member of the public looking out the back of the water. 

“What’s going on?” she questions. 

“They had sent your little boyfriend out to retrieve a big Texas dude,” Deno responds. This caused (Y/N) to pick up a pair of binoculars to look out and sees Jethro toe paddling him back to shore. She then joined in on the laughter that was forming in the tower. 

“I’ll go meet them at the shoreline,” she says quickly leaving the tower. When (Y/N) gets down there, the two were just getting out of the water and the camera crew was setting up a quick interview with the both of them. After that, Jethro was drying off. 

“That was quite the rescue,” she says, making him jump a little. 

“Awe thanks, that was the most intense rescue I have done all summer so far,”

“You were his hero,” He then starts to laugh before bringing her into his wet chest. 

“NO JEFF!! I DIDN’T WANT TO GET WET YET!” she yells, but he laughs more and just holds her tighter. 

“So I was thinking of having a little surfing competition between the two of us,” he says, still holding her. 

“Oh yeah, so you are prepared to have your ass kicked,” (Y/N) says with a shit-eating grin. He then releases her and puts back on his shirt. 

“If anything, I will beat you,” he corrects her, causing her to roll her eyes. 

“How about after work I can prove you wrong.” 

“Deal now let’s get back up to the tower before the others think we are doing something other than lifeguarding.”

When (Y/N) and Jethro’s shifts had ended, they quickly put on their wetsuits and grabbed a surfboard and headed out to the surf. As the waves started to roll, they would take turns riding the waves. When she would fall off of her board, Jethro would laugh at her, but she would do the same to him. 

When they came in from the surf, they sat on the sand and watched the sunset. (Y/N) leans against him and Jethro put his arm around her shoulder. She looks up at him, her feeling for the blonde had grown over the last couple of weeks. She feels her cheeks blush at her thoughts before leaning her head into his chest. He smiles and kisses the crown of her head. 

She looks back up at him, and he looks down at her. She then leans up and places her soft lips onto his. He was shocked at first, then he leaned into the kiss. Sparks were felt between both of them and it felt magical. Before it could get too heavy of a kiss, cheers and laughter were heard behind them. They released each other and saw the rest of the lifeguards were standing by the tower and buggies. 

“Well they seem happy,” Jethro comments, causing both the chuckle. She turns back to him with a smile. 

“So what does this make us?” she questions. He smiles before getting up and putting his hand out for her to get up. 

“I think this makes up for than friends. How about I make you my girlfriend?” he questions. This caused (Y/N) to smile before hugging him.

 “I like that… but…” 

“I won’t be like (Randon Boy's name). You will never have to worry about that again,” he says while looking deep into her (Y/E/C) eyes. She was shocked at his words. 

“How did you…”

“Thank Chappo, Maxi and Harries for being the protective people that they are,” he says with a small smile. (Y/N) looks back up to the tower before turning back to Jethro. She brings him into another kiss. Jethro smiles into the kiss and brings her into a heated kiss. 

“All right you two, come back to the tower,” Hoppo says through the megaphone. 

They break apart before looking back to the tower once again. (Y/N) could feel the nervousness coming from him. 

“It will be ok, my dad will be fine,” she says while starting to walk. 

“That’s not what I am worried about…” 

“So what are you are worried about?” 

“The team being the protective family that they are to you and Hoppo letting me go.” (Y/N) holds his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“If they do anything, they will have to go through me first,” she says, causing both to laugh. 

“Oh my hero,” he says while smiling, now ready to face the protective squad of lifeguards.     

[starlitvalyria]

glasses;

© credits to the author, i found on pinterest. if you own it, let me know so i can add your @

bucky barnes x reader

part one ⸺ part two ⸺ part three

Summary: nothing could put F.R.I.D.A.Y back online, not even Tony

Word count: 770

Warnings: curse words

Author's note: someone in the comments of the part 1 gave me the ideia to write a part 2, thank you so much, i really appreciated!

english it’s not my first language so I’m deeply sorry for any mistakes or inconveniences. xoxo, lola

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my requests are open!

ten days.

ten fucking days.

that is how long F.R.I.D.A.Y was offline, and nothing seems to work.

When completed 3 days that the AI was having problems, Tony dropped his vacation and went directly to the compound, since then you two have been working non-stop trying to fix her.

The lab was a mess. dirty coffee mugs, dirty plates, and mathematical equations literally everywhere but no one was brave enough to say anything. you and tony were on the brink of collapse.

After seven days the lack of sleep was destroying you two. when pepper convinced tony to take a break, bucky almost kissed her, he was trying to do that for a long time now but you were too stubborn to even consider.

Tony was already out of the lab when bucky arrived, when he looked at you he felt his heart breaking a bit. you were a complete mess.

For the first time in a long period, you faced something that you weren’t able to fix, and that was crashing you. you’ve always been a fixer. since you were a little girl you would fix things around your house, and bucky knew that, he knew every little thing about you.

“I’m dead” you commented when your boyfriend entered the lab “I prepared a bath for you, go while the water still warm” you planted a soft kiss on bucky’s lips “I love you too” he responded with a smirk crossing his face.

While you were trying to relax in the bathtub bucky was cleaning the lab. taking the dirty dishes to the kitchen, organizing the snack bags that could be found anywhere, and gathering all the paper sheets with notes and equations. that was his way of showing he cares, running baths, and cleaning your mess.

Bucky was used to your mess. you could be very methodical but when you would start to brainstorm, organization wasn’t one of your first priorities and soon bucky noticed that not even clothes.

You walked into the lab with a towel wrapped around your body while on the phone with Tony. Natasha and Steve stood behind you trying to understand what the fuck was going on

“i don’t have time to explain to you, just come to the compound, RIGHT NOW” you hang up before he could respond.

“now is okay to walk around naked?” nat said handing you some clothes that she grabbed in your room when she saw you getting out of the bathroom to the elevator “thanks, nat” bucky looked at you, he was very confused.

“i think i know what is wrong with F.R.I.D.A.Y” he was waiting for you to finish but steve interrupted you.

“kid, go put on your clothes and we’ll help you with everything we can” you nod and went to the bathroom.

leaving the room you noticed how clean the lab was comparing with how you left it. you made a quick note to thank bucky later.

“so, where do we start?” Steve asked

“Remember that 2 weeks ago Dr. Banner accidentally removed all the security softwares of all the compound tech? F.R.I.D.A.Y is attached to the compound now. she got exposed to some kind of malware that probably has rewritten her code” tony arrives, he is sweating and pepper is trying to calm him down

“what you got for me, kid?” he ignored everyone else in the room

“We gotta reprogram F.R.I.D.A.Y, her codes were rewritten. we cant turn it on because we are using the wrong codes” tony looked confused for a sec but he quickly understood all

“But how? No one can’t break the F.R.I.D.A.Y security system”

“that’s the thing, no one broke it. they were deactivated by mistake” just like tony you were nervous as hell.

“you think she got exposed 2 weeks ago?”

“im 100% sure, it all makes sense”

“let’s do it then.” you two sit on your desks, AC/CD was blasting through the lab speakers.

everybody watched your moves with so much attention and when you shouted “done” they all stood quietly

“you do the honors, kid” you stood up and called for the AI

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” tony almost cried when the robotic voice responded, “yes, Miss Y/L/N?”

"god, you're amazing" bucky shouted, his voice contained a lot of pride, and he wanted to show everyone how proud he was of you.

all the avengers in the lab cheered, they were all proud of you

©deadivyy

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[novamirmirsblog]

So stay with me

Word count: 1957

Request: Yes

Genre: ANGST

Warnings: DEATH. SADNESS. Like there is literally no silver lining.

A/N I've done the foster system based off how it is where I live. I don't know what it's like for other countries so I apologise if it isn't quite the same for where you live :3 ALSO I'm going to put the request elsewhere because in order for the full unhappiness, you must experience it like this 😈

When you first entered the S.H.I.E.L.D training programme, you had been hand picked by Fury himself. You were bouncing from foster home to foster home at the time, causing general trouble by stealing, fighting and lashing out at anyone and everyone. You had no real direction. You knew you were most likely to end up on the streets - sure your social worker would still check in occasionally after you had aged out of the system but there were more and more kids being given up. Realistically, you knew you were on your own. When you reached 13 you knew that no one was going to adopt you. Especially when there were babies and young children available. Deep down, you had figured it out when you were around 9 but you clung to the naive hope that you were wrong.

~~~~~

Fury found you when you were 15 but didn't take you in until you were 17. It was the day after your 17th birthday when he turned up at your foster parent's door. He said he wanted to take you for a military programme and you packed your bag before he had even finished his speech.

You went through years of intense training and passed top of your class for everything. It was surprising considering you had never been first before. What was more shocking was the need for praise. You had always believed that you didn't need it. You had never had it before, so why is it a necessity. You realised how wrong you were when Maria took you to the side and told you that you had done well. The comment replayed in your head for months.

~~~~~

You were 23 when you first joined the Avenger's initiative. 23 when you first met Natasha. The two of you didn't hit it off to begin with, Natasha didn't like how reckless you were and you didn't like how far the stick was shoved up her arse. Truth was, you both liked each other a little more than just friends but neither of you knew how to deal with these emotions. Let's face it, Natasha grew up being told 'love is for children' and you grew up in the system where the cracks were so big elephants fell through them. The team could see it though.

"Just ask her out." Wanda told you while sitting on your bed painting her nails.

"Who?"

"You know exactly who. I can read your mind and your thoughts are very loud."

"No. Your information is wrong." Wanda grabbed your hand, painting the left one first.

"Y/n just ask Natasha out. She'll say yes."

"I hate her. We're enemies."

"Some say you have to love someone to hate them and besides" Wanda paused, gauging your reaction "You wanting to bend her over a table doesn't sound very enemy like."

Heat rose in your cheeks and you prayed nothing gave you away. "Untrue. I want to do that in an enemy way."

"Sureeee..."

From then on, you were extremely careful to keep your thoughts quiet. Especially when you had to watch Natasha train.

~~~~~

It was Natasha who asked you out. At first you thought she was joking and very nearly laughed but then you saw how she was standing, how she said 'will you go out with me' with such nonchalance that it was as if she was asking you to pass the ketchup. No one could be that cool and collected. It was the way she even played slightly with her fingernails that showed you she was nervous. You of course said yes.

That was the beginning of your relationship and you had been going strong for a good five years. The nausea and tiredness however, started three years into your relationship. Natasha used to joke that maybe you were pregnant when it had first started happening, the others laughing at even the thought of you cheating on Natasha. The jokes died down when after a month and a half of running to the bathroom, it finally affected your missions. You were sent right off to Dr Cho and no one would have anything else said on the matter. You had tried to fight them, of course - it really wasn't that bad. All you needed to do. was take some anti-nausea medication and you would be fine.

Leukaemia

You knew that one little word would do so much damage to your strange family if they ever found out. You sat in silence as you formulated a plan, Dr Cho just watching you, letting you process. What was the point in telling your family and causing them pain if the treatment plan Dr Cho had lined out for you worked? There wasn't. That's why you kept it a secret. Why you brushed off any comments about your increased nausea, or your lack of hunger. The only person who knew was Fury.

~~~~~

"Are you cheating on me?" Natasha had cornered you after a particularly tough session of chemotherapy. All you wanted to do was sleep.

"No. Why would you think that?" Words were hard to say when you had to put all your energy into just standing up.

"You go out at all times of the day and night, you're too damn tired to do anything and you never talk to me anymore Y/n... If you wanted to break up you didn't have to cheat."

You knew this day would come eventually. It was a year into your treatments and none of them seemed to be working. Natasha wasn't stupid. It's why you kissed her on the head and pulled her into the tightest hug you could muster.

"I would never do that. I love you Natasha Romanoff. I'll explain but let me get everyone here." You asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to call everyone down to the living room.

Once everyone was settled on the sofas and chairs, you sat on the coffee table, no longer being able to hold yourself up.

"I have leukaemia."

At first, you couldn't bring yourself to look at the others. You didn't want their pity but you knew they wouldn't be able to show anything else. You looked at Natasha first. You knew she wouldn't have a pitying look on her face.

You were right.

Natasha looked furious. How dare someone who didn't even want you in their lives give you a horrible disease. She knew your chances of survival weren't good but there were treatments that could help. She had more than enough money to get whatever treatment necessary.

Tony spoke first. "I'm going to my lab. FRIDAY, contact Dr Cho. I need Y/n's medical details."

Bruce followed quickly behind him. The others gave you sad but hopeful smiles. You couldn't bring yourself to tell them there was little hope.

~~~~~

Natasha had been gone on and off for 6 months. You knew your time was coming to a close but she still hadn't given up. She was always in some country following a lead for some experimental drug to try and cure you.

But there was no cure.

Not for this. Maybe one day there would be a cure, but not in your lifetime. The cure wouldn't be able to save you.

You were almost hesitant to let Natasha come back. It had been a while since she had seen you and now you looked like paper. You were thin and fragile and your skin had lost it's colour and took on a grey tinge. Your cheeks were hollow and your lips were constantly chapped and the only thing you could stomach were tiny meals and energy drinks.

You were dying.

Everyone had come to terms with it. Tony and Bruce never stopped trying to find a cure, it just wasn't for you anymore. Wanda tried her best to keep you as comfortable as she could with her powers and Steve would come and tell you stories of before he was put in the ice to entertain you. Clint would bring his kids until it got too painful for them to see you turn from the scariest, coolest person they knew into a hollow shell.

The only person who hadn't come to terms with it was Natasha.

"Nat she needs you." Steve told her when the team were all eating.

"I know. I really think this time this lead will be the one. Then she can be fixed and-"

"Natasha." Wanda cut her off, her voice dangerously low. She had heard this speech so many times that it was painful to hear it again. "She needs you. She's dying and you need to accept it. You don't have much longer left with her and you're abandoning her when you should be with her 24/7!" Wanda's eyes glowed slightly red as she thought of all the times she had to watch her best friend realise the love of her life wasn't there with her. The cutlery began to shake a little and something fell over in the kitchen.

The crash that you heard woke you up. Maybe it was Natasha. You hobbled out of what was supposed to be your shared room, and made your way to the kitchen. By the time you had reached the kitchen, everyone was fighting. There was food being thrown, knives being grabbed and glasses shattering everywhere. You just stood there as your best friend and your girlfriend attempted to kill each other.

"guys stop." Your throat hurt from hours of throwing up so your voice didn't carry.

"guys really..." You tried again, tears forming in your eyes. You didn't want to spend your last days watching your loved ones fight.

"FRIDAY tell them to stop. please."

"Miss Y/l/n would like you all to stop. Now."

Everyone turned to the doorway where you were standing, horrified that you saw them fighting.

"Y/n, you need to get to bed sweetie." Wanda walked over to you, wrapping her arm around your waist.

"Don't touch her." Natasha stormed over, taking your other side.

"Ladies there's no need to fight. You can share right?" You let out a soft laugh and watched as they both melted. Just because you were dying, it didn't mean you lost your sense of humour.

They both took you back to your shared room, Wanda leaving to give you and Natasha some privacy.

"Please don't go anymore." You laid with your head on Natasha's chest, her hand stroking your hair.

"But I'm so close. I can cure you Y/n."

"Natty please. I can tell I don't have much longer left and I don't know if I'll still be here for when you come back if you leave again."

"But I can't lose you." Natasha whispered, scared that if she spoke any louder, some other power would hear her and take you away from her too soon.

"So stay with me."

~~~~~

It was strange, you thought, lying on your bed; you had always thought you would die doing something spontaneous, or maybe in the field. Not because your cells were abnormal. Natasha had spent every moment with you since she returned 5 months ago. You had planned everything; your funeral, little messages to each of them, where to bury you. Everything was sorted. All that was left now, was to die.

It was an ordinary Wednesday afternoon when you felt the last drops of life drain from you. You knew it was time and so you turned to Natasha who had you wrapped up in her arms, placing a hand on her face, the rest of the Avengers all sitting there quietly.

“When the time is right, we’ll be together again. I’ll always be with you.” You then let your eyes drift shut, never to open again. Not in this world, anyway, but perhaps in the next.

A/N pt 2: NOOO BUT WHY AM I CRYING. THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT WAY AROUND. We've got some Peggy Carter fluff coming up soon tho :)

Also here is the request:

A Natasha x fem!reader. Reader was one of THE best shield agents and a great member of the avengers, but sadly had genetic cancer. After fighting for two years, with nausea, pain, and no improvement, reader knew she was dying. She didn’t want to admit it, especially after all the team has done to help her, especially her girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff. No amount of treatment or amount of money or technology Tony had was gonna save her. In the end, reader comes to terms with it. But Natasha doesn’t want reader to give up. Reader get through to Natasha that she wants to spend her last moments with her without putting more strain on her body. Natasha then comes to terms with it. Eventually, on readers death bed, surrounded by the rest of the avengers, Natasha is holding reader in her arms as reader says goodbye and looks to Natasha and says “When the time is right, we’ll be together again. I’ll always be with you” (GO NUTS AND MAKE IT ANGSTY)

[missdrarrydawn]

------------ Occupy My Heart ------------

Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

warning: implied smut, brief mentions of drinking

~~~

written for the lovely @leydileyla who offered me this absolute gem of a prompt that I simply couldn't pass up

hope you enjoy hon :DD

~~~

You were really starting to feel the buzz of the Butterbeers a few hours into the Interhouse party that was thrown for all the returning eighth years. You're such a horrible lightweight, Butterbeer is just vaguely alcoholic, if at all. It warmed you up and left a pleasant tingle in its wake. Just enough to let the music and lights around you blur and blend, to ripple against your skin and soothe. The smell of the ale cookies served at various tables scattered around the one conjoined common room for all the Houses now wafted through the thick, cloying air, between meandering bodies of various dancing students, all the scents making your head spin from where you were sitting at the little makeshift bar.

The party's been wilding on way past curfew but no teachers arrived to interrupt you yet so it was fair game. Everything felt so liquid and pleasant, the atmosphere sticking to your slick skin, the warmth and haze prickling at the back of your neck.

Gods you needed a shower. Perhaps you might sneak away to have a quick one? The party showed no signs of slowing down and you were drained.

As you pushed away from the bar, colors still swimming before your eyes from all the sparkle and decorative banners strung up everywhere, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You felt eyes on you.

Turning about to find the possible culprit, you registered a flash of platinum blonde hair in a darkened corner and the piercing glow of silver eyes lingering on you.

Draco.

A chuckle rumbled from your chest as you allowed yourself a moment to revel in his gaze before melding into the throng of people, sliding between them, trying to remember whether your dorm was the door on the left or the right upstairs. It wouldn't do to barge into someone else's dormroom.

As you made your way along you still felt pins and needles in your back, as if someone was keeping pace with you. Goodness, that was incredibly paranoid, wasn't it? You vowed to yourself to never drink Butterbeer again. Even slightly tipsy you were a disaster.

Finally you got through everyone and into the quieter part of the room, where all the dorms were. There were only a few people milling about there, stumbling off to their rooms with whoever they pulled or to retch or simply pass out.

The beat of the music was muffled here, no longer a steady, beating ebb flowing through your skull, now more resembling a foggy memory. It was easier to think, to breathe. You've never been much of a party animal, but this one was important. It celebrated unity and the war being over, it celebrated those who lived and fought. It mattered to attend. After Hogwarts rebuilt and reopened, the first thing that changed was the system of the four houses, headmistress McGonagall had dismantled it entirely after witnessing how horrific segregation could be.

Everyone was thrown in one mixing pot, which had been strange at first, but throwing a party like this really helped scrub out the imaginary lines in the sand everyone had drawn between themselves.

Speaking of scrubbing, you finally arrived to your dorm and basically collapsed through the door in your quest for a shower. Where was the bathroom door again? Ah right, over there, of course.

You slipped through, the bright Lumos having you squint for a second while your eyes adjusted from the dim haze of downstairs to the sparkling clean of tile.

Right. You closed the door behind you and began to undress, your clothes peeling away from the sweat plastered all over you from all the vigorous dancing you'd done.

As you kicked off your shoes and set your bare feet on the cold floor, a distinct icy chill ran up your legs and through the rest of you, shivering away the brittle buzz you'd worked up, cooling you down.

Once your clothes were a discarded pile on the floor, you stepped into the shower and pulled the fogged glass door shut, fiddling with the taps before a spray of warm water finally hit your face and shoulders.

What a relief.

You began to scrub and lather yourself up, cleaning off the night with the water sluicing down your skin, your mind starting to wander as you relaxed into the moment more. Warm showers were a treasure.

Draco was staring at you back there. For a brief second you made eye contact before you left. Did that mean something? You felt silly for wanting to know but that boy has occupied the vacant spaces of your heart for far too long now, and you couldn't help but hope that his intense, focused gaze meant something more.

As you began washing your hair, a knock on the door startled you out of your skin. You almost poured shampoo into your eyes for heaven's sake!

"Um—occupied?" you yelled out, hoping to be heard over the gush of water. If someone needed the bathroom urgently then they could come in to use it, it's not as if anyone would see you in your birthday suit, but if it wasn't urgent then they could find another one.

"Ahh, Y/N, it's—uh, it's me! I was just wondering if you were okay?" a familiar voice from the other side of the door spoke up.

You knew that voice. It was so familiar. Who—

You felt every bit of you freeze as your brain spat out the answer for you.

Draco. It was Draco.

Checking up on you.

What should you do now? Your heart began hammering away quicker, this was hardly the time or place to flirt or attempt seduction and—

Well. As you considered the statement that just flittered through your mind you found it not entirely true.

You were naked after all, naked and wet. What more perfect scenario for seduction did there exist?

"I'm okay Draco, um—you can come in?" you yelled back, lips stretching into a smile. Technically he shouldn't be here at all, seeing as these were girls quarters and all, but if he's been invited it shouldn't be too much of an issue. If he accepted, that was.

There was silence for a few beats, the moment dragging on, you almost thought you'd scared him off, but then—

The soft, distinct click of the door being opened and shut.

Bingo.

Now, how exactly would you do this? You supposed you could ask him to get you a towel when you were done, and let him have a glimpse.

Merlin it sounded corny as all fuck, but you were prepared to do what it takes.

Until then though, you supposed you should talk about anything, keep the atmosphere up.

You could just barely make out his tall, foggy outline through the sliding glass of the shower, and you watched him move to sit down on the toilet seat.

Wait a second—if you could partly see him, did that mean he could partly see you too?

That was even more perfect.

"Hi Draco, you like the party?" you threw out the question casually, hoping to lessen the strangeness of the situation. You and him were friends, well, acquaintances more so, so it's not as if you've never spoken berore, but still. This was way different from any interaction youve had prior. "Thank you for checking up on me."

"Ahh ahem—no problem Y/N, you seemed a little tipsy back there so I uh—I thought you might—Well yea." he stumbled through his words, hardly even finishing the sentence properly.

That was—quite uncharacteristic of Draco Malfoy. He was always the one with the silver tongue, the sharp remark, had a comment to spare for anything, and to hear him stutter and hiccup his way through speaking as if he were a nervous school girl talking to her crush was very new and strange.

You'd be lying if you said it wasn't endearing as all hell though.

You could have a lot of fun with this.

"I see I see. I did build a bit of a buzz but nowhere near as bad as some of the other characters around this place. I mean, did you see Zabini strip his shirt off and then dance on the tables? Goodness." you simply continued along, as if this were a casual conversation and you weren't naked and washing out your hair.

"Haha, yeah, yes, Blaise will have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." Draco chuckled, though it sounded breathy and rough, somehow.

You were almost done now.

"Parvati will too, say, could you brew a vial of that potion of yours, for hangovers, for her? She's my roommate and I loathe to hear her whining tomorrow. You're the best at it, after all." You let your voice linger above the spray.

This time, Draco audibly spluttered and you saw a flurry of blurred movement, which eased a laugh past your lips.

"Um—yea, of—of course. I can do that. Um, Y/N isn't this—I don't know, a little strange?"

He sounded so thoroughly flustered, which really got you hoping. The stares, checking up on you, doing you favors, getting flustered by the situation, hm.

Hm.

It was worth a shot anyhow, right?

Time for a new plan.

Another chuckle rattled through your ribs. This was insane.

You grabbed the handle of the door and slid it open just enough to lean your head through. You could finally get a good look at him. He was sitting on the toilet seet, his entire face splotched and flushed all down his neck, wringing his hands and bouncing his leg.

When he heard you slide the door open he turned his head abruptly and you heard his breath hitch as he got a look at your face and shoulder sticking out, his eyes sliding from your eyes to your lips, lower still, to your neck and collarbones and—then he remembered himself and turned away abruptly.

"I'm sorry! Oh Merlin, are you—are you done? Do you uh—need a towel or—?" He began to ramble all in one breath and you just continued smiling fondly at his turned back.

"Oh Draco, won't you come in here with me already?"

You held out your hand and patiently waited. You could imagine this would be quite a fallout.

Draco stood completely still when the words left your mouth. One minute, two minutes, three—

The water drying on your skin while more sprayed down had gooseflesh rising all over you. Still, you waited.

"Um—what?" Draco whimpered eventually, voice giving out on him at the end there.

"You heard me." you assurred him.

The hum of running water was the only sound bouncing off the walls again, the very faintest echo of music from downstairs lilting through the closed door.

Draco turned to face you again, he looked wrecked. Eyes wide and dark, his pupils basically swallowing the silver irises, hair disheveled, breath coming in gentle pants.

"You want—?" he mumbled, his voice betraying his own hope and eagerness.

"Yes. For a while." your own smile widened, and for a second a pang of anxiety struck you as you realized he was about to see you naked, but it all dissipated into pooling heat and want as you watched him slowly reach for the first button of his mint green button up shirt and slide it loose. His wide eyes never left yours and you watched the slight tremor in his fingertips as he freed every button, one by one, until his shirt opened and slid off his shoulders, fluttering to the floor.

God he's delicious. All lean, well defined Seeker's physique, the pale marble of his skin an endless expanse. You let your eyes wander, drink in the sight, slide across his chest and lower, over his taut abdomen, hanging up on the waistband of his pants. An outline pushed against the seams there, your mouth watering at the visible bulge.

"Me too." he mumbled, as if you needed any more proof or reassurance of his desire, his hand slowly reaching for his zipper now.

Oh what a lovely party it's been indeed and it was about to get so much better.

~~~

Fin.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Earth is Space Australia, “Storm.”

I think some of you requested something similar a while ago, but I could be wrong. It is a view of humanity from a different species, so I hope you all like it :)

She stared out the viewing window fixated upon the little blue planet with its swirling patterns of cloud cover. It looked peaceful from where she stood, a tranquil drop of blue against the blackness of space, but of course she knew better, this was Earth, and Earth was as volatile a planet more than any she had visited. She had been putting this off for a long time, but as the GA chairwoman, she was obligated to visit the planet of every member of the GA at some point.

She continued to watch as they moved slowly into orbit, the planet growing larger and larger before her showing off its bright brown and green landmasses squished between vast oceans of blue. She shivered thinking about all that water.

The RUndi, coming form a desert planet, had developed ways of living without water-- at least without it directly--if it came in contact with her skin it could cause burns or rashes depending on the concentration.

Admiral Vir had been polite enough to reduce the humidity on his ship, which was preferred by humans, to almost zero for her benefit, but it all scared her badly. There was water everywhere on this ship, kitchen, bathrooms, even speaking to the humans, she was looking into their saline lubricated eyes.

Boots echoed on the floor behind her, and she turned her head to find Admiral Vir stepping up beside her. He was wearing surgical gloves and a mask for her benefit, as humans also tended to shed water from their skin -- not as badly as a groom but still.

“Chairwoman, the shuttle is ready.”

She nodded nervously and followed him up and down the hall watching the human move. There were plenty of bipedal creatures in the GA, but there was something about the way humans did it that just seemed to change things. Of course she could run on two legs, but balance was easy to keep at speed, the rest of the time she used her long front arms to walk on the ground keeping contact with her knuckles They made their way into the docking bay, where a group of humans was waiting for her geared up in their face masks and gloves.

They approached her with a specially made suit.

“What is this?”

“Hazmat suit, ma’am, base says its sunny right now, but it is humid. Not enough to hurt you but the rash would be unpleasant. We advise that you wear this until we get inside.”

She nodded and did as told as Admiral Vir stood by, “We would have flown you into Alexandria but this week of all weeks it decided to rain, so we will bringing you to fort harmony where UNSC has its main headquarters.”

The plastic of the suit felt very strange on her skin as it was zipped up her front.

Admiral Vir helped her pull on a pair of gloves, and then pulled out a roll of duct tape sealing off the end of her sleeves and wrists, doing the same with her feet.

A hood was pulled up around her head, before she was provided with a face shield.

The precautions made her nervous, but she didn’t have much time to think about it as she was ushered onto the shuttle.

She was assured that Admiral vir was one of the best pilots in the galaxy, but she still held hard to her seat as they roared into the atmosphere jostling this way and that in the upper atmosphere. To be honest she did expect their descent to be more violent, and was impressed with the Admiral.

She stared out the window watching as little white clouds billowed past.

Off to their right she could see that massive body of water lapping at the shore as if trying to get in.

She shivered as the shuttle lowered slowly touching down onto a massive tarmac not far away from one of the main buildings. The sky outside was bright and not a cloud lay in sight. A group of men and women waited outside.

The door was opened for her and she was ushered outside onto a tarp which was covered by a line of canopies.

A human she recognized as the GA representative and the UN president walked up along with another human with stars on their sleeves and nodded to her one of them even bowing slightly, “A pleasure to welcome you to earth, Chairwoman.” They said as she stepped outside.

She could feel the heat through her suit, and it felt nice. She was used to the heat.

Looking around nervously, she wasn't entirely sure if she should have been worried. Other than the sky being blue and the ground being green, the planet looked completely normal and not all that malicious.

Admiral Vir stepped into stride beside her as they made their way towards one of the buildings.

They were just passing over another set of tarps about ten feet away from the green ground when there was a sharp hiss and little black spouts shot up out of the ground. She turned yelping just in time to watch as streams of water began sprouting from the nozzles.

One of the humans laughed, “Sorry Chairwoman, I should have thought to turn off the sprinkler system.”

“Sprinkler system.” “The grass needs water too.” 

Swallowing hard she was led inside the building, nd through two sets of double doors. It was almost freezing cold inside and she wrapped her arms around herself uncomfortably until she was led down the hallway and into another room. This room was hot and dry, and she was finally able to relax and pull of her face shield

More humans approached and nodded or bowed to her, “A pleasure, chairwoman. We are sorry you couldn’t see more of our planet, but circumstances permitting it might be best if you remain here.”

She couldn't help but agreeing.

Instead they opted for a virtual tour put together by images from their satellites and cars with cameras. On the big screen before her she was able to see towering mountains and sandy desserts-- with orange instead of blue sand which was so alien and strange-- not to mention great feats of human architecture. The crumbling remains of the colosseum, the rebuilt library at Alexandria,  cathedrals, and carvings, and statues. IT was quite awe inspiring. The humans had far more cultural tradition, and history than she could have thought possible for such a young species.

When given the history of their wars she was stunned at such a history of violence, which could rival only that of the Drev, and certainly rivaled it in their brutality. How they had used nuclear power to destroy civilian populations, how they had used gas that burned the eyes and the lugs, weapons that could cycle deadly rounds at hundreds of bullets per minute, explosives. They even trained other animals to attack their fellow humans. If there was a way to inflict pain on another, the humans had discovered and protected it.

In all of human history this was the first time they had ever been united as a world, and that was only after the Pan-Asian war which had happened during some of these human’s lifetimes.

Admiral Vir admitted that his father had fight in the war, though it was over before he was born.

Looking up at the images of destruction and carnage painted by artisans long past she couldn't help but shake her head. Admiral vir stepped up beside her, “i am lucky…. I grew up in a world that wasn’t at war, a world that was united under one banner. It is the first time in human history where no one has had to live in the shadow of war.

She shook her head bemused and in shock. She had always thought the humans were a bit like the rundy. She knew they had a centralized system of government, but she had never considered it to be so young. He turned to look at her sadly, “I do not expect it to last long.”

With his ominous words, he stepped to the side and she looked to watch him go.

It was a sudden commotion at the far end of the room that got her attention, and she wandered over to where the humans were gathering their voices nervous.

“What is going on?”

The humans turned the looks on their faces rather guilty.

Finally Admiral Vir was the first to speak up, “It seems chairwoman, that earth has decided to have unseasonal weather patterns, and ones that are forming quickly. A tropical storm that was predicted to stay out at sea has moved up the cost and is heading towards us.”

“We have to get the chairwoman out of here,”  one of the humans announced, and she couldn’t help but agree.

Admiral Vir nodded and motioned her to follow as she put on her facemask.

They made their way down the hall and the door was open. Past him she could see a gathering set of massive black clouds. It was like nothing she had ever seen the wall of clouds so high that they flattened out at the top as if they had reached the ceiling of their height. Admiral Vir stepped out onto the tarmac, and just as he did there was a sharp gust of wind so powerful that it ripped one of the canopies loose.

Admiral vir was obscured for a second as the canopy ripped past,and when it was gone he was on the ground holding up his hand against the wind. A few others rushed out to help him.

“Get the chairwoman back inside.” He ordered walking back into the hallway and looking down at his upper arm.

His uniform had been sliced open on the bicep, and a thin line of red was just visible.

She was scared now.

Two men shut the doors, tugging against an aggressive wind as the other canopies were tugged from the ground.

As she watched, the ground suddenly began sprouting little black spots. She had no idea what it was for the longest time, until her brain finally caught up with what her eyes were seeing.

It was raining.

In horror she stepped back from the door.

It had rained once on the capital city in Irus in living memory. Corpses had lined the street in the dozens and so it had been named. The day of the falling.

Admiral Vir rested his gloved hand on her shoulder, “We should get you further inside.” He suggested 

“Your arm?”

“I’m alright. I got unlucky and it caught me by an edge.”

The wind was kicking up even more and she swore she could almost hear it. By the time they had made it back to the safe room, she watched in horror as sheets of rain came thundering down from above. Great puddles and rivulets were beginning to form on the ground running down the streets like rivers.

The humans themselves seemed fine, unless they looked at her, in which cases they seemed very worried. She cowered in a corner watching great pooling of water pour from the sky and rush down the windows.

Admiral Vir came to sit next to her, his arm having been treated.

The rain seemed to go on forever battering against the window as the wind tossed it closer. The sound was thunderous, and roaring. 

Admiral Vir was doing his best to keep her calm and had produced a deck of cards from what seemed like nowhere. He was teaching her how to play a game the humans called golf and had even invited some of the other humans over to join in. It was mostly a game of chance though there was some strategy required. She lost the first round but was pleased to make it through the second with the least amount of points

It was just then that the entire room was lit up b a horrendous flash of light and a sudden eruption that seemed to rend the walls. She screamed and the lights around them went out. The ground below her shook and in stunned desperation she reached out to make sure she was still alive.

Rundi have poor night vision, and the room appeared very dark, only silhouettes against the pale grey light filtering in from outside.

“What was that!” she squealed.

There was a click, and a flash of light lit up a circle around her. She could see the Admiral’s face lit by under beams of light, “Lightning strike must have taken out the power.”

“Lightning, you mean this is an electrical storm.”

“It’s the east coast, Ma’am it's always an electrical storm. Nothing to worry about though, the backup generators should be kicking on soon.”

Even as he said those words the lights overhead flickered on though they were somewhat dimmer than before. Rain still thrashed the window outside.”

“You grew up like this.” She said incredulously cowering back against the wall.

Admiral Vir shook his head, ‘No ma’am. I’m From central Mericanda, we get earthquakes and blizzards that stack snow in up to six foot drifts.”

“Snow?” She asked having heard the word at one point but forgetting what it meant.

“Frozen water, it falls from the sky in crystal flakes all fluffy, but it is very cold and it can kill you if you aren't careful.

She shook her head incredulous.

“Death Valley or the Sahara might have been a better option I am thinking.” Admiral Vir said, and the others nodded in agreement.

They sat in the dimness for a little longer listening to the rain and the lightning, and she was sort of beginning to relax with the realization that the storm was outside, when another loud noise jarred her from her peace.

IT was loud, very loud, a wailing which rose in pitch, then dropped back down and rose again. Lights flashed overhead.

Admiral Vir lifted his head as did the others, and the looks on their faces scared her more than anything had yet that day.

The humans were frightened.

“What is that!” 

Admiral Vir turned to look at her, “It's a Tornado Siren.”

All along the walls she watched in wide-eyed shock as great metal shutters clamped down over the windows, blocking her view of the outside. The lights dimmed even further.

“We have to get the chairwoman to the bunker.” Admiral Vir was saying 

“A tornado? What is a Tornado?”

Admiral vir caught her by the hand and led her towards the hallway, “We have to go.”

“Admiral!”

He kept going dragging her out into the hall where metal shutters were continuing to slam shut. The sound of the rain grew in intensity until it was almost deafening as if large rocks were being showered down on them.

“Hail.” The man said 

“Hail?”

“Chunks of ice falling from the sky.”

“What!”

The entire building seemed to shake around them as groups of men and woman ran up and down the halls vanishing into interior rooms and charging down stairs into the basement.

They moved along the hall for a little while when she heard the wind kick up.

Evidently the Admiral did too as he dragged her into another interior room, which turned out to be a some sort of closet.

He pushed her down onto the floor.

“Cover your head.” He ordered.

She did as told covering her head as he tipped objects from the shelves and onto the floor, pulling the shelves off as he did. Soon there was nothing over their heads at all. She pressed into the corner and he knelt in front of her one green eye wide in concern.

“You never told me what a tornado was.”

He grimaced, “it is a spiraling vortex of wind that can reach up to 300 miles per hour. They can be many yards wide and reach up into the clouds. They are capable of ripping buildings in half.”

She went very quiet, and outside the wind intensified.

The building around them began to shake.

In that moment she watched as the human leaned over her, bracing his arms against the wall and covering his head, but using as much of his body as possible to protect her, like a human shield of bone and flesh.

Something shattered and there was a loud cracking noise as metal slammed against metal.

The building shook even more violently.

Fear rose up inside her the likes of which she had never seen.

Overhead the ceiling tiles began to fall breaking across the human’s back and erupting into pisces on the floor.

She could see the exposed wiring past the space between the human’s arms.

A roaring echoed through the hallway, and more tiles fell from above. The human hunched closer until she couldn’t see anything past his body and the glittering metals on the breast of his uniform.

This went on for several log minutes. Long minutes in which she was sure she would perish.

But then, all went suddenly quiet.

It was an eerie quiet and for the longest time she wasn’t sure what had gone on, and then the admiral backed up, shaking dust from his hair.

When he stood, she could see another small spot of blood high on one of his shoulders.

He had…. Protected her, from that.

He smiled, “Sounds like it’s over.”

Outside in the hall she could hear others moving around, and standing behind him she walked out into the hall running into the UN president who looked rather frazzled.

The entire hallway was dotted with tiles fallen from the ceiling, and one of the metal shields seemed rather ent, but the building didn’t look much the worse for ware.

“Did it hit us?” Admiral vir wondered.

“Yeah it hit the south west corner and then skirted up and around.”

“Any casualties.”

“No, everyone was safe inside and the storm shutters held as planned.” 

She turned to look at the chairwoman, “Once upon a time that might have been a lot worse than it was, but our technology is improving every year.”

The Chairwoman shook her head in awe not sure what to say.

One thing was for sure though, she wanted off this planet. She understood humans better than she ever had at this moment. She knew why they were so tough, brave and fearless. Any creature that had to live their lives fighting against their own planet for survival was best kept on the GA side.

She glanced up at Admiral Vir, who was wiping blood from behind one ear.

Brave.

Risking his own life like that to protect her.

What a species.

What a planet.

She didn’t want to visit ever again.

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 19)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Graphic Depictions of Blood and Violence, Death, Gore, Japanese Mythical Folklore, No Major Character Death, Slight Horror, War

Previous Chapter: 百鬼夜行 - Hyakki Yakou

Next Chapter: Home with My Heart

Word Count: 3.96k 3.97k ish like rounds up to 4K

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra notes: Long. I suggest rereading the last chapter if you need a refresher. This is like more than twice the length of my first chapter lol.

Chapter 19: Stay With Me

You remain silent.

"No answer, hmm??" The Kitsune grinned. But deep inside she was pissed. Another technique of hers lies in knowing who you'd prefer to save and manipulating you into hesitating so that you’d lower your guard down.

You are the largest threat to them here in Kyoto after all. But you didn't trust so easily. Especially the words of a Special Grade curse who obviously has something planned.

You carefully took in a deep breath. And in less than a split second, you turned and ran towards Noritoshi, with one hand pointing behind you towards your cousin.

Your barrier activated around Hiroki while you moved to position yourself in front of Noritoshi. You whipped out your blades, ready to parry her thorns.

As soon as your feet moved from position, the magic circles flared and activated their sequence. 

Both boys realized what happened after a few seconds, the Kitsune's attack and your movements were too fast for them to follow.

She had launched her thorns in your direction. You tried to block as much of them as you could, but some got through your openings.

There were too many, and it was much faster than you expected. It was hard, not fighting with a guard around you.

You numbly stared down at your open wounds, feeling the pain in a distant manner. She had cleanly pierced through your ribs. While her other large set of thorns had bounced off your barrier, protecting your cousin.

The magic circles beneath both boys disappeared, as did your warp around Hiroki.

“Y/N!!” Noritoshi stared in horror. Your back was still to him, but he could see the protruding blood-stained thorns. Time slowed down as blood gushed from your lips. 

He catches you as you fall towards the ground. An insane heat spreads throughout your body. Something was very wrong. 

She laughed maniacally at the scene unfolding before her. "Jujutsu Sorcerers are so weak. So easy! You all crumple at the sight of your most beloved ones in danger." 

It's scary isn't it? Putting your life on the line for your comrades. Will you die today? 

The Kitsune launches an attack at the both of you, but Hiroki quickly steps and defends against her. She is forced further back as Mechamaru shoots out a laser beam from a distance.

You were trying to use your reverse cursed technique, with no avail. Your hands and legs can't move. It's a temporary paralysis. So you couldn't pull out the thorns and then heal your wounds.

"Love! Talk to me! What's wrong?"

You couldn't even answer him or move your mouth. Blood continued seeping out of your wounds.

You slumped as Noritoshi gathered you in his arms. How unlucky. There were barely any curses anymore and yet this had to happen. But you had no regrets. 

You looked up at Noritoshi with so much love in your eyes. But his own were filled with agony, screaming at you to hold on while blood was pouring down the side of your mouth.

Tears streamed down your face. You were happy, because you had the power to save the ones you love this time. 

But you really wanted to grow old with Noritoshi. See the wrinkles line his face. Experience everything with him. You'd take him back in a heartbeat and tell him that he owned you and your heart since the day you met. That you loved him even when you thought he put on a farce to be with you.

Even if he were to love or be with another woman. Even if it pained you to think of him as a distant person in your life, being by his side was the happiest you've felt in your entire life. 

He pressed his lips against yours, trying to give you more air. His hands trembling against the thorns embedded inside of you. Your blood was spilling everywhere, and he didn't want to look down to see his hands covered in red.

'There's so much blood,' he thought to himself, panicking. It was staining both of your clothes, dripping onto the pavement.

"Your reverse cursed technique! Use it!" He yelled hoarsely. In smooth movements, he ripped out the thorns one by one and applied pressure onto your wounds.

His heart plummeted as nothing happened. But he didn't lose faith. If you were paralysed, it was up to him to save your life.

Noritoshi did some quick thinking, remembering the content in the Gojo family records of Soulmates. He bit his thumb and forced his blood into your mouth. 

"Drink my love, please drink it." Turns out you didn't have to do much. The blood hit your tongue, and he activated his technique on your blood. 

Usually this would be impossible. Blood Manipulation only works on the user's own blood, but the power of soulmates isn't one to be taken lightly.

He read through your vitals, RBC (red blood cell), platelet, and WBC (white blood cell) count, and saw the rising blood pressure and temperature. He did his best to stabilize your vitals.

It worked. Your head cleared, and even while paralysed, you quickly managed to seal your wounds. You continued activating your reverse cursed technique, not stopping for a moment.

If it was any minute longer, you would have died. But Noritoshi worked way too fast out of desperation to keep you alive. 

"Stay with me, angel. Good, your wounds are finally sealing." He leaned down and continued applying pressure onto the open punctures.

He continued to scan and manage your blood pressure, and found something. It was a foreign substance in your blood. Something like a black tar, attacking your insides and messing with your nervous system. Alongside with it was a poison slowly seeping through your blood.

"What on earth is that? Is that the technique of the Kitsune?" He furrowed his eyebrows. 

But with complete hold over your blood, he was able to manipulate it into leaving your body by going outside one of your wounds.

It was so painful, more tears fell down the sides of your face, while you were still in paralysis. 

"This will end soon, I promise. Hold on."

Noritoshi blocks out everything else. Completely ignoring Todo and Mechamaru who are facing the fox behind him.

As soon as the black substance was out, you finally could move, trembling and heaving out more blood. 

"No, calm down. Calm down! Y/N!" He pressed you back down onto his lap as you tried to sit upright. “Love, please!”

Hiroki was fighting the Kitsune with tears running down his face, screaming bloody murder as he striked and aimed at it. 

It seems as though the magic circles require a ton of cursed energy. The Kitsune doesn't seem to be activating them anymore. She was now on the defensive, not having expected reinforcements. Still, it was clear she overpowers them all.

A red symbol appeared on your right eye, a cross identical to Noritoshi’s red flowing scale mark. You bent over to the side and started puking out a blue substance mixed with your blood. Moving to kneel down on all fours, while Noritoshi held you. 

“Get it all out, love, faster.” He was frantic like he’d never been before. Pressing a palm against your neck and forcing you to remove this new poison right away. 

An alarming amount of blood came out of you and pooled on the concrete. Even though he knew you needed to force it out of your system, you were still losing blood fast, and it wasn’t good. Your skin slowly turns into a sickly pale shade.

Thank goodness for Noritoshi, who could help push out the poison with brute force. If you were stuck with anyone else, you'd be dead right now.

As soon as the poison is completely out, he pulls you up and away from the bubbling blue liquid on the ground. “Close your wounds. That’s enough. Anymore and you’ll lose too much blood.”

The mark on your eye disappears.

Noritoshi cradles you in his arms. Both of you were drenched in blood, the blood of the enemy and your own, but he didn't care as he held you close. 

“Steady darling. Stay steady. You’re okay. You’re with me.” Tears continuously fell from his eyes. You tried to reach up, wanting to comfort him, but your arms could barely move. 'Don't cry Toshi. Please don't' You thought.

"I love you, please don't leave me alone. I can't live without you." He choked. With one hand on your wounds, Noritoshi did his best to ensure you didn’t lose any more blood. He tried to make it stay within your system, circulating properly.

You looked up at him with blood and tears running down your face. 'I love you too, Noritoshi, it's always been you. It has to be you,' you thought out loud. 

You took deep breaths, grunting at the pain. The pounding headache you’ve had for a while slowly started to clear. You were now able to completely seal your wounds, trying to do it carefully to prevent scarring. 

Noritoshi placed a hand over yours as you healed yourself. You turned to look at the Kitsune that was preoccupied with other sorcerers. They were going to die at this rate.

You feel light-headed and your eyes keep fluttering. It was hard to stay conscious at this point. Noritoshi slowly lifted your hand to kiss your knuckles ever so softly. “Stay with me, my heart.”

You will. If it was the last thing you’d do, you’d do anything to stay with him.

The reverse cursed technique activated and the wounds sealed tight and clean.

“I think I’m good now..." You tried to sit upright, breathing heavily. He worriedly looked over at you.

"You saved me, so I now owe you my life. Not that it's never been yours in the first place. Thank you for that Toshi," You heaved yourself up to stand, spitting out another mouthful of blood onto the ground.

“You saved MY life, darling. And what do you think you’re doing? You’re still hurt. Let’s bring you to the clinic. Come.” He beckoned you there.

"I didn't lose THAT much blood. It just looks really bad. Maybe a pint or two at most. I'll manage."

"No, you stay back. You need rest." He tried to push you to the direction of the clinic but you held fast.

Noritoshi stared into your eyes. They reflected the light of the fires behind him, making them look like glowing orbs of flame. You were his Phoenix, he realized. And he was utterly entranced by your charisma.

"I can still fight."

You knew your limits well, having trained all your life for a situation like this. Even now, your reverse cursed technique was activated in the background, simultaneously with your combat techniques.

Now that all the poison was out of your system, you only had to worry about the physical injuries.

"I don't want to lose you," Noritoshi whispered, broken.

"You won't. Because I'm much stronger than this, I promise you." You grabbed his wrist, "So stay with me. You said that just now right? I’ll stay with you, I promise."

“I can’t ever keep you down, can’t I?” He bitterly smiles to himself as he presses his forehead against yours. Eyes filled with pain, because he knew you were right. Jujutsu sorcerers always fight to surpass their limits.

“No, you can’t. But you already knew that since before, didn’t you? After all, you’re the same as I am.”

Noritoshi couldn't do anything else, but to kiss you. You returned it with just as much passion. It tasted of dirt and blood, but to both of you, it was like a breath of fresh air.

Both of your red strings slowly crept out into the open, invisible to everyone else except the two of you. The broken ropes reattached and you felt your mark burn for the first time in weeks.

But there was no time to celebrate.

"I've got this bitch to kill. Just watch the other curses in the area. I've got her." 

He let out the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard. “Okay. I’ll be right here. Cleaning up the rest. Right behind you.”

Your eyes zeroed in on the Kitsune who turned to you, shocked that you had survived her poison.

She quickly pushed out another palm with the same insignia flashing in blood red. But you were faster, moving past Noritoshi's arms and in an instant, shoving both of your blades into her gut.

“Get back!” You yelled to everyone else. There was a reason as to why you were most effective when you did your missions alone. 

She tried to pull away. Flames suddenly engulfed the both of you. But it didn't matter, because you've got a hold on her.

You didn't hesitate to choke her and wrap your legs around her waist.

"Fucking bitch," You spat out.

Her eyes flashed a brighter gold and the flames surrounding the both of you went even hotter. Burning the lamp posts and pavement in the vicinity. The ground warped and started flowing a bright red.

Noritoshi was forced back from the insane heat. The other curses and poor unprepared Jujutsu sorcerers closer to the both of you burst into flame and disintegrated. 

You couldn't see anything at all. Just the Kitsune, and a wall of fire. You thought about the damages distantly, and automatically used your technique to fly high up in the sky with her still in your chokehold.

"We curses deserve to rule this land. Just as we did thousands of years ago during the Heian period. What makes you think you're any better than us? You pathetic Jujutsu sorcerers are slowly dying out while ignorant weak humans stay protected by their ignorance. What are you doing this for?" She hissed.

"I don't care about any of you curses," your throat closed up, anger rising at the thought of innocent sorcerers dying in the middle of combat.

"You could join us and be stronger!" She pleaded.

Fury was evident on your face. You gripped her throat tighter, your fingers wrapped in your spacial barrier to prevent you from her fire. 

"Or you can shut up and die right here." You snarled.

The Kitsune saw that you were going for it. She raised her hand and the flames turned blue. If you weren’t fast enough you’d melt. This flame was far more than what you were used to handling.

What is stronger? Flame or ice?

You set Niflheim to the lowest setting you could.

"Absolute Zero."

Immediately the flames extinguished and turned to cold smoke. Ashes and steam billowed in the air, making it hard for anybody to see anything.

The Kitsune under you screamed as she slowly froze over. But she was still moving. Not enough?

You released your technique and the both of you did a free fall from the sky. 

You took a leaf out of Satoru’s book and slammed her down hard on the pavement, simultaneously releasing Goldenrod with a proper activation at over 3000 volts. You've been perfecting this attack with Hiroki for weeks. 

A loud crack of thunder with a flash of lightning shot out of your hands, incinerating her on the spot. Not a trace left as the curse disappeared into black smoke. The remnants of her final screams echoed in your ears.

You placed your palm against the still hot pavement and activated Niflheim to cool things down within the area. Steam fizzed out as the flames were put out.

You crouched down low on the ground to catch your breath, those last two attacks took a lot out of you and you were running low on cursed energy.

You have a lot. But it wasn't unlimited, unlike how Satoru could regulate his to an insane extent. Even now, you can feel some pain in your chest and try to heal yourself further. 

You felt omnipotent. There's no other way to describe it. You say you hate fighting, but the rush of defeating a powerful opponent is like no other. 

This side of you that enjoys beating down curses is rising, you couldn't stop smiling. But you felt a soft hand bring you slowly back down to earth. 

"Darling?" 

You looked up at him, still grinning. Ignoring the blood running down one side of your face.

"Darling."

Ah. That steady presence. The beautiful person whom you live for.

"My love, let's clear up the remaining curses. Celebrate later."

"Mmmm." You smiled at him, feeling yourself come back down.

You squeezed his hand. Noritoshi could feel your elation. It was almost electric. That ego rising up too high. Pride.

He didn't mind seeing you like this, but you tended to get overconfident in battle sometimes. Not that you didn't have any good reason not to be. This side of you was very much Gojo Satoru like, he thought to himself. 

You helped clean up the remaining curses. Not much stronger ones were left. Noritoshi watched every movement of yours, staying right beside you to support you. 

You staggered after seeing that your areas were clear. Noritoshi quickly wraps his arms around you, “You’re coming with me to the clinic. And I am not accepting any answer other than Yes.”

“Yes sir.” You leaned into him as he lifted you in his arms. Some of your wounds had reopened, due to your reverse cursed technique weakening. The adrenaline coursing through your body was too much that you failed to feel the pain. Which means you failed to realize that some wounds were still bleeding.

He entered the clinic and quickly put you down on one of the empty beds. One of your uncles came to check on you. Running over with an IV stand in hand. They hooked you to one of their regular Balanced Saline solutions to help with your blood loss. 

Hiroki came in, battered with a bruise on one temple, but still very much alive. He was now off combat duty and on healing duty. Quickly coming over to press a hand against your chest to activate his reverse cursed technique.

Noritoshi sighed in relief, seeing your bleeding come to a halt. He winced upon feeling a sharp pain in his right arm, turning to look at the nurse that was dressing his wounds. He didn’t even notice them, being too focused on you.

He had fewer injuries than you did.

“Hemorrhagic shock sis. You scared the life outta me back there.” Hiroki groaned as he let his head fall forward. 

“I would never have forgiven you if you died on me too.”

“You’re such a loser bro. I won’t die.”

“Keep talking shit like that and you might,” he pinched your side making you hiss at him.

“No fighting with the sick!” Your uncle smacked him upside his head.

“We need Hiroki! Life support emergency please!” A nurse from the other side of the ward yells. Your cousin worriedly looks down at you, “I’ve done what I can. Can you manage?”

“Yep. Go. You know how I’m fine now.”

He nods and leaves you with Noritoshi, who was still staring at you. Now with his wounds fully dressed and cleaned.

He kneels down in front of you, looking up with such a soft expression. He stayed like that for a while, feeling your vitals stabilise further. His technique was still linked to your blood somehow, which gave him a deeper sense of relief, knowing he can help you if anything else were to happen.

You felt absolutely horrible. The man had shown you time and time again that he loves you and you doubted that. 

"I'm sorr-"

"Are you-"

You both spoke at the same time, eyes widening. 

He motioned you to go first, but you shook your head and let him go first. 

"Are you feeling okay?" He whispered.

You smiled. "I am. Just need to sleep it off. It's not the worst I've had."

He ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly distracted, before reaching over to link your right hand with his left one. "Good, good."

“Are you okay Toshi?”

“I’m fine. Hardly a dent in me today. Thanks to you.”

You gave a shy smile, quietly relieved. 

“Toshi… thank you…” you whispered. 

Noritoshi shakes his head, “You save me and I save you. That’s how we work. As soulmates.” He holds up your hands, marks burning brightly.

He could feel your emotions once again. It used to be this numb feeling, where you once were. But now, he can sense all the negativity in the back of your head.

Regret. A lot of sadness. Guilt. But also, a deep love for him. You never stopped loving him.

"Toshi," You started again with a bit more confidence. He looked back into your eyes, smiling and nodding.

You have to apologize. Go do it. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but somehow you were still tongue-tied.

"Noritoshi, I really owe you a proper apolo-"

"Hey," You both looked to the right to see your mom approaching you. 

"Mom!" 

Noritoshi jerked into a standing position, body stiff as he bowed a full 90 degree angle towards your mother. 

"Ah, it's nice to meet you. I'm Kamo Noritoshi and I'm y/n's- " He froze, not knowing what to say.

You weren't dating anymore. As of now.

"Soul-"

"Boyfriend and soulmate, mom. He's my boyfriend." You smiled up at both of them. 

His heart warms itself at your words. A humongous invisible weight lifts from his chest and shoulders.

She smiled and reached up to pull him into a hug. "You've made my baby girl so happy. Thank you. Call me 'Okaa-san' too."

He felt his throat tighten, "Not at all. She's been such a blessing to me. Uh- Okaa-sama." 

“I need to bring my baby girl home now. Do you want to come back to the Tsuchimikado estate with us? We can oversee your recovery as well.” She offers.

Noritoshi’s eyes widened. “Ah, I’d love to. I just have to check on with my father-”

“I’ve already talked to him. A pleasant man he is, the head of the Kamo clan. More than I thought.” She had a bit of a wary expression when she said those words. Clearly still unfamiliar with Noritoshi’s family.

“If he said so, then yes please. I’d like to stay with her.”

After that, it was a blur of activity. Your mom makes sure you’re both stable enough before bundling the both of you in a car back to the estate. Noritoshi quickly shoots a text to his father to confirm things, and was actually surprised to see a jovial reply. 

No doubt trying to help him patch things up with you. He closes his eyes. For now, he’ll take this as a solid win. It was working in his favor anyway for his father to so strongly support your relationship.

You squirmed uncomfortably against him, patting him to get his attention. 

“Do you need anything, love?” Noritoshi nearly tosses his phone away in his haste to turn back to you. But you shook your head.

"I love you so much, Toshi. And I’m sorry for hurting you." You whispered. You were unsatisfied; it was far from a proper confession. But for now, exhaustion overcomes you. His eyes widen, but you fall asleep against him just as you see him open his mouth to reply.

He looks over the top of your head and checks your condition. You had fallen asleep. It was a miracle that you even stayed conscious for this long. Noritoshi was prepared to catch you in the middle of battle, but you held on the whole time.

Still, he was happy to hear those few words, not bothering to hide the biggest smile on his face as he tucks you into his side.

Authors notes: Guess whose form the Kitsune took on when Noritoshi looked at her as he was put under hypnosis.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast @nayydoesthings @a1hina @r-rose08 @cherriesanwine @felicityforyou

[hootysblog]

Day 27 of the 31 day fan fiction challenge!!

Little angsty again.

Have fun!

Haunt

It was suppose to get easier after Belos was defeated. Everyone in the Isles are free of his tyranny and they are rebuilding. Witches can now study all tracks of magic now. Everyone is happy. All except one witch.

_______________________________________________

Luz haunts her everywhere she goes. Not in a bad way though. More of "everything reminds me of her." Amity has been trying to move on every since that fateful night.

*** "Has anyone seen Luz???" Eda yelled.

The group looked around and since Eda didn't have an answer, she yelled back to them.

"I'm going to fly and see if she's somewhere in the rubble."

They were able to defeat Belos, but Luz somehow got separated from them. Amity has a theory that Belos did that on purpose. The group was able to gather their palisman together to create a forcefield. Eda was the only one not affected by the blast.

"Okay everyone. Split up until we find Luz!" Amity shouted.

They checked for what seemed like hours until they heard King yell for Eda.

Amity was the person there after Eda and she can tell by Eda's posture that something happened.

"Is that all you found, King?" Eda asked.

King nodded and hugged his adoptive mother's leg.

Amity was starting to get nervous. The rest of the gang showed up and saw what was unfolding in front of them.

Eda turned around to Amity with tears in her eyes. She crouched down and gestured to Amity to hold out her hand. She dropped Luz's tamagotchi into Amity's hand.

Amity is in a state of disbelief. "No."

"I'm sorry, Amity," Eda cried.

"No, no, she can't be! SHE CAN'T BE!"

Amity flew off and cried for the rest of the night.***

She still holds on to that tamagotchi. She hopes one day that Luz will message her.

The group knows to leave Amity alone on this day. Amity walks to the statue that Lilith commissioned for Luz. Amity looks at the description on the base.

Luz Noceda- First Human Witch in the Boiling Isles-Trained by Eda, the Owl Lady-Savior of the Isles

"Hey Luz. It's been five years since we defeated Belos. Lilith is doing a good job rebuilding the Isles and the Coven system. Hunter is training new witches like himself, you know, no bile sac and all. Emira got married to Viney, which you would've loved because Puddles was a part of the wedding party." Amity chuckles. "Edric, surprisingly, has taken up the family business with my dad. Gus is teaching at Hexside, Human Studies of course. Eda is helping out at Hexside with teaching, but also helps Lilith with running the Isles. Willow runs a flower shop, and her and Hunter are going strong. I know, we never would've thought Willow and Hunter together?" Amity chuckles again. "They kind of remind me of us. You know, enemies to lovers. The classic love story...." Amity trails off. She starts to tear up. "I know I have to let you go at some point, but it's hard. You had such an impact on my life. I promised to keep you safe and I didn't do that. I know what you would say, it wasn't my fault, but I feel like I could've done something more," Amity cries. "As I said before, you always find a way to sneak into peoples' hearts, and you stay in there hearts. I just want to bring you back!" Amity lays her head on the base of the statue. "I miss you so much! I know everyone misses you and I would love to bring you back, but I can't. I'm trying to accept that you're gone, but I'm also a hopeless romantic. I hope that you somehow magically walk back into our lives and we would be together again." She looks up at Luz's statue. "I love you, Luz. And I will never stop loving you."

Amity wipes away her tears and turns around to leave.

"Thank Titan you're a hopeless romantic Amity Blight."

Amity looks up and her eyes go wide. "Luz?"

Luz smiles, "Sorry it took so long to get back. It takes longer to build a portal in the human realm."

They run towards each other, crying. 5 years of waiting for each other are gone as they kiss, looking forward to a new chapter in their lives.

[vminity21]

Recompense | myg

Pairing: student!yoongi x student!reader, college!au f2l

Word Count: 2,925

Genre: angst, fluff

Warning(s): language, mention of death of a relative; Rated: pg 13

Summary: Underneath the tough exterior is truly grief, yet Yoongi is unable to execute it well until he discovers that you relate to him more than he realized. Sometimes learning that you are not alone is the best form of healing.

Credits to: @suhdays​ for making such a beautiful cover!! And thank you @cyberkryptonitecupcake​ for making the request! I really hope you like it!

Rain clouds encompass campus as easily as entering the end of a thread into a needle. At least, that’s the analogy you groggily come up with and you are sticking with it. Compiling your textbooks into your backpack, you trace your steps in finding your dorm key and with a brief look in the mirror, you inhale and exhale slowly. You can do this today. You are smart. You have great hair. You will not annoy Yoongi for the millionth time in two days.  It has taken a lot over the years to give yourself positive affirmations to start your day as your mother always taught you to do so, but when she had passed, you went a very long time without encouraging yourself at all.

But that’s the secret you keep. With no social media for anyone to discreetly look at of you, you bury the heartbreak as best as you can because overall you know that your mother is proud of you. She would want you to stay positive; she would want you to smile not only for you but for the sake of others. Stepping onto the sidewalk, you put in your airpods with an upbeat tune as you saunter to class. You were partnered for a project with Min Yoongi, and one thing you have learned is that he is not your biggest fan for reasons you are uncertain. Maybe it has to do with how much you antagonize him with your charms? Maybe it has to do with the irresistible way you cut letters out of construction paper. Who even knows? But…. He does have a cute bu-

The brief collide of a large shoulder astonishes you as you jolt to remove an airpod, “Hobi, are you insane?” You stifle a large smile as he scrunches his nose at you.

“Saw the perfect opportunity and I took it.”

“Well, good for you. How are you and Monnie holding up? This project is intense.”

“Firstly, I better confess before she calls me out. She’s done all the work. Secondly, is it the project? Or the partner?”

Flashing your best friend with a warning look, you keep the subject away from Yoongi. “Of course, your girlfriend has done all the work! What is the point of a boyfriend if he is completely useless!”

“Excuse me, Heathen. I’ve come up with some of the facts that we have to present so I have put in a smidge of my time.” He shakes his head, ruffling his strands from his laughing eyes.

“You better be glad she loves you. I’d washi tape your eyes closed. And then superglue wiggle eyes in your hair.”

“I’d also give him a mullet and replace his eyebrows with pipe cleaners. Hello guys,” Monnie joins from the library as all of you continue to class.

“And what makes you think I wouldn’t fight back?” Hoseok muses while laying a steady hand upon his beloved tendrils in preparation to protect.

“I have my ways, peasant.”

Feigning to be nervous, Hoseok’s gaze flickers between you and Monnie. “I don’t know what kind of vile thoughts are festering within your skulls, but I do not want any part of it. But, to return your question because I have human decency unlike you stale croutons, how is the project going with Yoongry?”

“Hobi, how many times do I have to tell you that he’s not angry, he’s just… I don’t know difficult.”

“Seems angry to me, ow!” Hoseok rubs his side from where Monnie jabbed him with her elbow upon entering the classroom.

“Sh! He’s right over there,” Monnie whispers in warning. Yoongi is leaned in his chair with arms crossed, his intimidating gaze observes the room while his tousled, black hair reveals his forehead. As much as you hate to admit this, you are very attracted to him- especially when his eyes move to find you. Shit! Smiling in his direction as happily as you can muster, he briefly rolls his eyes in response before returning his gaze to the front where you happen to make a quick trip to the professor.

“Um, Professor Namjoon, how are you doing?”

“Ah! My straight A student, I am wonderful, how are you?”

“I am doing great, Professor, just wanted to let you know that I read over the articles you suggested for the project! Super helpful!” You gleam.

Yoongi eyes you as you continue your conversation with Professor Namjoon. One thing he has picked up on is how much you like to people please which is something he has never fully understood about the human population in general. Nobody should have to go out of their way just to make someone happy if they do not want to, but then again, it’s hard for him to express his emotions especially after his mother passed away before the semester even started.

“Good morning!” Your chirpy voice resonates with the intention of making Yoongi smile, but instead he murmurs his greetings in response.

“You studied over Furosemide last night, haven’t you? That’s one of the major heart medications used in the veterinary field.”

“I sure did. You studied up on pimobendan as well, correct?” The project is based on medications for congestive heart failure and the importance of why they are needed along with the explanation of what happens within the heart when it is functioning abnormally. ‘Lucky, I got stuck doing a project on the prostate,’ Hoseok’s whine echoes in the forefront of your brain.

After a few seconds, you can’t seem to refrain from taking Yoongi’s presence in. He really grew up to be so handsome. The thin curve of his chin, his button nose, his soft, umber eyes and the way he gels his hair in place, even the scent of him is alluring.

“Staring at me isn’t going to get the job done,” he mumbles, slipping the rolled poster behind him to unravel upon the desk.

“Looking at you?” You jump, frantically moving to gather the materials needed to decorate the project. “I’d rather look at a pin cushion.”

“It probably would appreciate it if you didn’t stare at it either.”

Squinting your eyes at him, your mouth open and shuts multiple times without a subtle comeback. “What is with you? You know I’m not going to cower until you smile, right?”

Shoulders tensing, Yoongi peers at you, “Can you take anything seriously for at least one second?”

“If taking this project would help boost my immune system, sure, why not.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you need a dose of sunshine. Hoseok has a contagious smile, why don’t I introduce?”

You are unaware of the grip you have on the chair beside you, trying everything you can to maintain your happy façade no matter how much you are tempted to let it crumble. How was your mom so good at handling people like this? There has to be something deeper tormenting him to resonate so much hatred to whatever it is he is clinging to.

“I would prefer to be introduced to a tree. Now if you’ll so kindly hand me the stencil sheet, I will begin formulating words to define the jobs of the atriums versus the ventricles before tracing the letters.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. In the meantime, I’m going to grab a coffee, I’ll be right back.” Shuffling to retrieve your wallet, you are sure Professor Namjoon wouldn’t notice the few minutes that you would be gone and for what it’s worth, you need a moment to relax. What happened to make him so cold? Unbeknownst to you, a picture of your mother swoops to the ground to land at the tip of Yoongi’s shoe. Eyebrows scrunching, he bends to pick up the picture to see a woman whose smile matches yours, but not only that, there is a familiarity about her as if he has seen her before.

“Miss Jeon?” Memories swarm his mind of his childhood where an exuberant joy was in the air mingled with the smell of chocolate chip cookies. A little girl chased him around the backyard while giggles reverberated throughout the atmosphere. Miss Jeon would call out for you guys when the treats were ready and would always make sure Yoongi had everything he needed when he would come to visit. But that little girl who was his best friend as a child happened to be none other than you. How had he not recognized you? Another memory resurfaces, one of his own mother sharing laughter with yours. They had been friends, too.

From what is written on the back of the portrait, it is revealed that your mother is no longer on earth right beside you the same as his mother left this world so soon. Tears gather in his eyes as the shame overwhelms his chest in all entirety. Who was he to judge you based on your happiness? If you could lose someone who obviously meant the world to you and can still maintain your kindness, then why can’t he?

Bustling of the other students is loud enough to not focus in on the man whose world has seemed to halt. Swallowing roughly, he tries steadying the picture with his quivering hands as a tear drips off his cheek. His mother would be disappointed in how he coped with his anger and today was the day he would need to make a change. And he will. When you return, the Styrofoam cup warm in your palm, you set it onto the table, “Alright, now that I’ve retreated for a few minutes, I would hope your top tier attitude has-”

Quieting immediately, you take in a trail of tears resting on Yoongi’s face. Eyebrows furrowing, you are so surprised that words do not exist in this very moment. Why is he crying? Did you say something wrong?

“I’m sorry,” he whispers through the trembling of his chin, “I’m so sorry.”

“Yoongi, what’s?” Eyes trailing to his hands, you gasp at the realization that he is holding the picture of your mother that you carry with you everywhere you go. Before you can even verbalize anything, Yoongi hands you the picture without a word and exits the classroom while you stand there in silence.

-

Days pass and you haven’t seen nor have heard from Yoongi. Running your hands over your face, you’re leaned over your desk with nothing but the days events cycling heavily on your brain. Any form of homework has not been touched, and Professor Namjoon seemed to fully understand the circumstances of why you needed to leave class early. Collecting the materials as well as the posterboard, Hoseok and Monnie had helped you carry everything back to your dorm and offered to stay with you for the evening, but you declined. LenLen, your roommate happens to be with her boyfriend, Jimin which saves time for you to cry.

You miss your mother more than anything in this world, and she is the first person you would have called if she had been alive. How did you miss the picture falling out of your backpack when you grabbed your wallet? Deep down you always knew who Min Yoongi was, he was your ‘soulmate’ when the pair of you were children. Your mothers would always joke about a future of grandchildren with the absolute assurance that you and Yoongi were destined to be husband and wife. Unfortunately, you and your mother had to relocate for her job opportunity and you never saw Yoongi again until you recognized him the beginning of this semester.

It is funny how life works sometimes, as if an invisible string tied him to you in all aspects of life. Alas, he did not remember you, hence why you had been so lenient with his annoyance directed at you. You wanted to believe that he would wake up, and because he was so stand offish, you couldn’t find the bravery to confront him nor confess that he was your friend at one point in life. Instead, you bottled it up. When you called your brother to give an update a few days ago, he relayed the news regarding Yoongi’s mother which all made sense as to why Yoongi was so distant; your heart shattered for him as tears pooled. How could you possibly ever bring up a subject as devastating as that? But you wanted Yoongi to know that he is not alone. You are mourning as he is. If only he would realize who you are-

A soft knock on the door jolts you from your palms while sparks dance along your vision before clearing up. Confused due to not expecting anyone, you carefully step to the door, cracking it open to realize that Yoongi of all humans is standing with a bouquet of roses in his grip. “Yoongi?” You take in a sharp breath, “How did you find my dorm? I don’t remember-”

“I met Hoseok,” he says softly, “You were right, his smile is… definitely contagious but rather mischievous for lack of a better term. He told me where to go.”

Giggling, not only at his accurate description of Jung Hoseok, but also out of uncertainty because you have no idea how to truly react. Is it odd that you are very happy that Yoongi is here? Gaze flitting to the roses, you are in awe of how beautiful they are against the dark shade of his trench coat. “They’re beautiful.” You say, “How did you know I loved roses?”

A gentle smirk graces his lips, the closest to a smile you have ever seen, and you have never felt your heart pitter patter the way it just did. “I remember always seeing them in a vase when my mother and I would visit.” His fingers stir along the plastic cover around the stems, “Really, I am so sorry. You did not deserve to be treated that way. I was wrong to take my frustrations out on you. Not that this is an excuse but, my mother-”

Reaching your fingers to lightly press to the back of his hand, he stops as his eyes widen. “Why don’t you come in?” You whisper, and straight way he enters, following you to a sofa set off to the side. “My brother told me about your mother. Yoongi, I am so sorry about that. She was the sweetest woman. My mom always missed her after we moved.”

“And mine always missed your mother,” you take the roses and swiftly prepare a vase of water to settle them in, decorating the kitchen counter with the beauty of the red petals. “I think… I think I just blocked out that time in my life because I hated that you weren’t there with me anymore.”

Your heart skips a beat. Did Yoongi eventually remember everything after all? “I was heartbroken, too.” Turning to lean your back against the counter, you cross your arms to try to bring some comfort to the anxious feeling beneath your chest. The pain of the losses will never go away, but the man across the room will end up being the bloom of happiness that you will need, and you will be his solace- the one person who will remind him that he is not alone. He has you. “I don’t want to hear another apology, okay?”

His mouth falls open, “But-”

“Nay, you shan’t.”

“Really though, how will I ever repay you for my actions? I should have never forgotten about you.”

Arms still crossed, you gradually near him as he stands to his feet, your eyes connect with his, “All I want you to know is that you are not alone. Sure, you may not have known who I was majority of the semester, but at least you know now.” When his gaze, filled with guilt, strays, you move your head to regain his focus. “Yoongi, really, you remember me now. So, lets try to live life the way our mothers would want us to.” Your voice breaks, knowing how proud they must be of the pair of you reconciling and reuniting after years of being apart. “Besides, we have a lot to learn, and a project to finish, so whaddya say?”

For the first time in years, you get to see it, the gummy smile glowing from his face as he shakes his head at you. “Must I be reminded of that wretched thing? I’d prefer to shave my eyebrows.”

“You have a sense of humor?” You tease lightheartedly as you nudge his shoulder with your knuckles. “I knew you had it in you!” Chuckling, he reaches for your frame to pull into a tight embrace, you immediately relax into his mold while you breathe in the crisp scent of his cologne. “Goodness, you smell like a dream. If our moms were correct about our future, I am not going to be disappointed!” For once, the pair of you feel complete even if sorrow will awake from time to time- as Yoongi squeezes you tighter, you bury into the crook of his neck, pressing a small kiss to his warm skin. “We better make an A+.”

Pulling away slightly, to rest his forehead upon yours, he is still smiling, “Following up with some extra credit.”

“Agreed,” you beam, letting his warmth encompass you to its full extent, when you almost lose balance due to him shifting his feet, he catches you.

“I’m so-”

“Gah!” Your fingers brush his lips, “What did I tell you?”

“No more apologies.”

“No more apologies.”

[pixiedoodlein]

10 days until school and I’m no more decided than I was a week ago. I flip flop ten times day about what might be best. A is sick of hearing me talk about it. He doesn’t disagree with my risk assessment but he is sick of talking about it.

It caused an issue with his friend, a friend who is his best friend and is unvaccinated and works in a jail. Months ago we told friend he could only visit (this place is their boyhood dream) once he’s vaccinated. Friend typically believes in science and is very health conscious but his gf is a moron Trump lover and her family the same and that’s who he’s been spending all his time with since this all started. When I asked friend why he’s not vaccinated he said he’s young & healthy, didn’t trust the vaccines, would do it when they got full fda approval. Plenty of young healthy people are dead of this. Anyway then I asked ok so what if you give it to someone who isn’t and dies, people incarcerated in the jail he works in and don’t have the luxury of social distancing, and he was like eh whatever. So yes friend is an asshole, but his best friend for decades, friend has always been kind of an asshole but has many redeeming qualities too. So we said no visit. But then in July when there was no covid here and no covid where he lives and we were blissfully living our covid free lives we loosened up and said he could visit with two negative tests. But then covid got bad again and when asshole friend contacted A the other day to say he took time off in late Sept to visit, A said sorry, it’s fully fda approved now you have no excuses not to vaccinate, we’re worried about our unvaccinated kids, and as of now you can’t visit but hey maybe if you get vaccinated and the numbers look better we can reassess in a month and you can come. Friend was a total dick about it, didn’t understand our point of view at all, stressed A about it, who was in a bad mood about it for days afterward.

Then there’s the neighbors. I had a chat with the kids and a chat with the mom. I framed it as we love them so much and I know they’re careful but I think we should all be more careful while the numbers are so rising (aka only outdoor hangouts) and we are careful but I’ve heard terrifying stories from doctor friends about kids and babies getting very sick, and they have a baby who I don’t want us to make sick, and she said she agreed. The kids have been pretty good about making the adjustment from constant sleepovers to playing outside but M keeps asking me “the kids need to pee are they allowed to use the bathroom, the kids are hungry are they allowed to come inside even for one minute for a snack,” and I feel like the villain (I’ve been saying yes to pee, snacks I’ll bring out). Everyone’s been understanding but nobody is getting what I mean when I say only outdoor socializing. All the kids keep asking me when I’ll take them to town again for ice cream, “but it’s outside” (um yeah but the car’s not), asking their mom to ask me for sleepovers even though they know what the answer will be. The other day they were playing in our yard then it started raining and they were like “we can’t walk home in the rain”- I don’t want them to walk home in the rain, but again the car is indoors!- so I drove them home (but made M stay at our house). They’re not my kids so I can’t make them wear masks and it feels like now I am in the position of being the mean parent who’s psycho about covid, which in a way I am, but it would help me to stick to my guns and feel okay about sticking to them if the government policies matched the severity of the situation, ie mask mandates in public places (instead of stores posting polite recommendations), vaccine mandates, virtual learning options, etc.

Which brings me to school. After selling M hard on real school, then I sold her hard on home school. She already “did” 3rd grade last year (as much as me teaching her in my pajamas counts as doing), but this district has an earlier cut off than the city, so she’s in 3rd grade again here. Which is fine by me- her birthday is the same day as the very late nyc cut off (12/31) and I hated that she was the absolute youngest. I used to beg the school to hold her back and they’d say “but why she’s doing so well!” not understanding that I was thinking ahead to the teen years. But anyway, despite her haphazard pj’d professor, she seemed to learn a lot last year so homeschool this year could basically be unschool. She’d traipse around the forest identifying birds and trees with A and her brother, reading for pleasure, and I’d spend an hour here and there reviewing some worksheets with her so she’d be on track when she starts real school after she gets vaccinated. She was into the idea, until she found out she and one of the neighbor kids are in the same class. Now she absolutely wants to go to real school, AND ride the school bus. The school bus part makes me very nervous. While there is now a school mask mandate (but will it be enforced? what are their lunch procedures, what % of teachers are vaccinated, what % of the older kids in the same building as the little kids are vaccinated, did they actually really update their ventilation system?) and a bus mask rule, it’s a long rural route (15 min drive or 45 min bus) and I have no faith that bus windows will be open and all riders will be masked the whole time.

So just tell her she can go to school but has to be driven by a parent, right? Not so simple. I was offered a job at a (somewhat, commuting distance) nearby nonprofit- an easy low stress job in a bastion of liberalism with very very nice smart coworkers, excellent work life balance, a writing job that sounds made for me, like the job description is exactly what I would put together if I were putting together my dream job (except the pay, which is half what I was making at a fancy DC nonprofit, but high for this area, and our housing cost is half so it should be fine if A can get away from little guy long enough to bring in some money too). It’s mostly remote but approx one day a week in the office and some days there will be things I need to attend out in the community (not necessarily our community, they serve the whole region). It won’t always be the same day in the office and the office is an hour away- so on those days A would have no car to get her to and from school, since I’d need to leave before school starts and get home after it’s done. So I guess we need to buy a new car? Aside from this issue we really don’t need a second car now, were planning to get one eventually, but not until A’s business has enough projects to justify the cost.

Despite its many demands/challenges/ stressors, home school is sounding easier to me at this point (especially because she already did this grade), except she WANTS to go to school. Someone talk me out of putting some lipstick and a pantsuit on her and taking her to get vaccinated. I know, I know: the 5-11 dosage is 1/3 of the 12-adult dosage. The doctors I’ve spoken to are split on this hypothetical kamikaze mission. The doctors I’ve spoken to are also split on me and A going to a pharmacy now for booster. It’s been almost 6 months since our 2nd dose. We do not have compromised immune systems. This county has way more doses than demand and I would feel better sending M to school (bus or not) if we had our boosters and she had a first dose- moral and scientific quandaries aside- because there is A LOT of covid here now, a lot of covid everywhere now, and I feel like we are returning to regular life at the time when we should be most hunkered down.

Which brings me to the data. Per capita there are as many known cases here as in nyc, except nyc has a 50% higher vax rate, much more mask usage, better medical system. People are not getting enough tests here, there is a higher positivity rate, and so I think the actual number of cases is much higher than the reported number of cases. It seems like, friends here and in the city and in the suburbs (I just broke up with a friend in the suburbs because she professes to be a good democrat but is hosting a bonafide super spreader event and vacationing in a place with 39% positivity and a collapsed health care system), are thinking of covid as something you catch from strangers- they wear masks in stores- but aren’t careful at all around close friends and family (so many extended family gatherings, so many, cousins and grandparents and half-siblings and aunts and uncles and whoever), when this is a disease that kills via the people you love most, the ones who’d never intentionally hurt you.

[julesclues]

fake dating

“uh oh” // chapter 1

warnings: mentions of sex

pairings: jj maybank x reader

word count: 2.0k

summary: your family keeps pressuring you to get a boyfriend so, you say you have one. when they ask for a name, the only one that pops into your mind is jj maybank– your enemy.

all the girls wanted to be you, and all the guys wanted to be with you. except for one. jj maybank. you two were the furthest thing from friends, let alone partners. you both tried your best to stay away from one another, but being apart of the same friend group wasn’t make that any easier. you and jj had just never gotten along. it started in elementary school, when he would bully you by putting slime in your hair, or breaking your pencils in half when he knew you didn’t have anymore. that hatred only continued to grow when middle school came. now being in high school, it’s worse than ever. the pouges tried everything to get you two to get along, but it just never seemed to work.

“i’m just saying that if you were to cut off your arm,” jj starts, “you wouldn’t feel pain!” you groan, earning a laugh from kie. “of course you would feel pain you jackass,” you reply, making jj glance at you. “shut up, i’m not talking to you.” you scoff, looking at john b. “john b, tell him please! of course you would feel pain if you cut off your arm. you are literally cutting off your arm,” you exclaim, pretending your hand is a saw and demonstrating it on your arm. “i gotta agree with y/n on this one man,” john b states, gaining a whine from jj. “but where would you feel the pain?,” he questions. you then reply with, “in your arm–“ but he cuts you off, hitting his thigh with his palm. “but your arm is gone!”

“yeah but you have a nervous system! you would feel the pain everywhere. pain travels you idiot!” you say, making jj huff and turn away. “relax maybank,” you speak, catching his attention. “you’re just being a little bitch because you’re wrong.” the grip on his beer bottle tightens and he takes a long swig. “i’m the little bitch?” he bites back. “uh oh,” pope whispers. “you always have something to say! you think you’re better than everyone else, always trying to prove them wrong! but you never think for a second that you could be wrong too, no, of course not. because you’re little miss sunshine, aren’t you?” jj rants, panting as you look him up and down in disgust. “you think you have me all figured out, don’t you jj? well guess what dickhead? you don’t. so why don’t you get your head out of my ass! stop trying to figure me out. if you keep doing so, some might even think you’re obsessed with me,” you yell, getting up and walking away from the bonfire. “fuck you!” jj yells. you don’t look back. all you do is stick up your middle finger and keep walking.

now, three weeks later, you’re in a sticky situation. “so, y/n,” your mom starts, grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes and pouring some into her plate. you were all having dinner– your mom, dad, and younger sister. “do you have a boyfriend yet?” you choke on your chicken while your little sister laughs. she was only younger than you by 3 years, so you two got a long pretty well. “oh my god mom, when are you going to drop that?” you ask, taking a sip from your water. “i’ll drop it when you get a boyfriend,” she responds, while your dad gums in agreement. “well then drop it, because i have a boyfriend.” she drops her fork and looks at you with wide eyes. “oh my god really? who is it? oh, please tell me!”

panicking, a random name slips out of your mouth. “oh- uh, d-do you know jj maybank?” your mom gasps and picks her fork back up to continue to eat. “i always thought you two didn’t like each other!” she starts. you rub the back of your neck and chuckle slightly. “things change,” you say with a small smile. “i’m happy for you y/n,” your dad says, patting your shoulder. “we have to invite him over one day!” your eyes widen. you were about to say how much that was definitely not going to happen, but seeing how happy your mom was made you say something else.

“i’ll ask him.” she squeals, hugging you awkwardly while you tried to eat. “i’m so happy for you y/n! maybe he’s your soulmate, like your father and me.” you pretend to throw up in your mouth, earning a laugh from your little sister. “y/n! manners!” your mom exclaims.

later that night, you found your fingers hovering over the keybord to text jj. just text him, you think to yourself.

y/n😒: jj i need your help

jj🖕🏻: absolutely not

y/n😒: please i’m serious

jj🖕🏻: so am i

y/n😒: my family thinks we’re dating

incoming call from jj🖕🏻

hesitantly, you answer the phone. “y/n, why the fuck does your family think we’re together?” you chuckle nervously, hearing him groan from the other end. “um so we were eating dinner and–“

“is this going to be a long story?” you stomp your foot at his question. “if you keep interrupting, yeah, it will be!” he stays quiet and you continue. “so, for the past couple weeks my family has been pressuring me to get a boyfriend and i got tired of it so i told my mom i had one.” jj laughs and you scoff. “stop it’s not funny! she asked me for a name and i accidentally said you! please i need you to help me,” you beg. maybe using your soft voice would convince him. “no way.” maybe not.

“jj please! i’ll do anything!” he stays quiet for a moment, and you could swear you heard him smirk, if that was even possible. “anything?” you sigh loudly. “i’m not sleeping with you,” you say nonchalantly. jj groans in disgust from the other side of the phone, but ends it with a laugh. “i don’t want to sleep wi– well actually–“

“jj!” you whisper-scream, knowing your family is sleeping. “i’m kidding! mostly. but i will help you on one condition.” though he can’t see it, you nod. “what is it?” you ask with a small smile. “you have to pay me.” your smile drops. “you’re kidding,” you groan, throwing your head back into your pillow. “i’m one hundred percent serious y/n. $50 and i’ll do whatever you want me to.” you think for a minute and sigh in defeat. “whatever i want?” you ask, and he chuckles. “i’m not sleeping with you,” he mocks. “shut up idiot. listen, you’re going to have to fake date me for like a week, think you can do that?”

“fake date you?” he asks loudly. “i’m going to need $100 instead. deal or no deal.”

“jj,” you warn.

“deal or no deal,” he repeats. “fine! okay, fine! just shut up, you’re so annoying. come to my house tomorrow, alright? and please whatever you do, don’t screw this up.” he exhales with a small laugh. “you have my word, honey.” before you could protest the pet name, he hangs up. “i hate him,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

the next morning you wake up, thinking it was all a dream. but after checking your phone and seeing the text messages along with the 3 minute phone call with jj, you realize it wasn’t. “crap,” you whisper to yourself, looking at the time. 9:19am. jj would be here soon, and you just woke up. you jump out of bed and search your closet for clothes. before you could find an appealing outfit, the doorbell rings. oh fuck, you think to yourself. you didn’t tell your parents that jj was coming over. running downstairs, you see that your mom was about to put her hand on the door knob. “wait–!” you yell, but your mom still opens the door, and there stands jj maybank. your boyfriend.

“oh jj! what a lovely surprise! y/n didn’t tell me you were coming over today!” she says, looking back at you, wiggling her eyebrows. you make eye contact with jj and whisper a “sorry” as he rolls his eyes. but when your mom turns back, he smiles widely. “i hope that’s not a problem ms. l/n!” he says sweetly. your mouth hangs open a bit. you’ve never heard him speak so proper. “oh not at all! i heard you two are together now, congrat–“ you interupt her by running down the rest of the stairs and grabbing jj’s hand. “okay cool thanks mom bye,” you stutter quickly, dragging jj to your room. “use protection!” she yells up. “stop!” you scream, as jj laughs.

dragging jj to your room, you throw him on the bed and shut the door, locking it behind you. “i’m usually the dominant one in the bedroom but i could get used to this,” jj jokes, and you smack him in the arm. “shut your mouth,” you speak, grabbing a tank top from your closet, along with some shorts. you walk into your connected bathroom and change quickly, making eye contact with jj. “so why did you want me here?” you sit down next to jj and look into his eyes. you never realized how beautiful they truly were. you were mesmerized by how much they resembled the ocean. you loved the ocean.

“okay so we have to pretend to date,” you start, and he groans. “wow really, i had no idea,” he says sarcastically, causing you to hit him. “jj come on, i’m serious! so, i’m going to need you to stay over tonight.” his eyes widen lightly, followed by a smirk. “and why’s that, honey?”

“would you cut it out with the “honey” nickname! that’s so weird,” you exclaim, making jj chuckle. “if i can’t call you honey, then what pet names can i call you?” you think for a minute, looking down at your hands. “why don’t we make rules?” you ask, making eye contact with jj. “i’m listening,” he replies. “so rule number one could be..” you pause, as jj stares at you intensely. “the nicknames! we have to use them around people. so you can call me princess, baby, my love, and snickerdoodle.” jj makes a face at the last one, and you laugh. “i’m kidding about the last one, but the first three are true. and what about you maybank? what should i call you?” jj smirks and you groan. “here we go,” you say softly.

“well, i never thought i would say this, but i like it when you say my last name. it rolls right off your tongue. so you can call me maybank, baby, my love..” he pauses for a moment, and gets close to you. “what are you doing?” you question, feeling his warm breath against your skin. “...and daddy.” you choke on air, earning a laugh from the blonde haired boy. “n-no way jj!” you say, pushing him. “i’m not doing that! not in front of my family!”

“oh so in private is okay?” he exclaims. “jj! just– oh my god.. let’s just get b-back to the rules, okay?” he laughs, nodding. “i love seeing you flustered, princess.” ignoring the nickname, you continue with the rules. for hours, you and jj tried to come up with rules, and in the end, you came up with 10.

they were:

1) use nicknames whenever around people

2) can only kiss each other if the other person says “kiss me.” it cannot be an unexpected kiss

3) do not break character, no matter what

4) hold hands whenever you’re walking side by side with one another

5) make it believeable. be sweet but not too sweet

6) don’t tell anyone that you’re faking it

7) always say “i love you” when people are looking

8) protect one another

9) y/n has to pay jj always laugh at each other’s jokes

10) this is all fake. whatever you do, do not fall in love

this is going to be fun.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone's Symphony | Night One | Persephone

Hey lovelies, here's the next part. It's a little longer-- I got carried which, if you know me and my work, tends to happen frequently. I do hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to everyone who has sent me kind words and thoughts and ahhhh thank you!! I am forever grateful. Now, without further adieu...

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: meh some angst, some talk of death-- the normal for this series

Word count: 5.2k (omg)

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Master List

The rest of the day goes smoothly. Well, as smoothly as a day can go when there’s someone out there trying to kill you. Maybe smooth is the wrong word. For dinner she pops a frozen pizza in the oven— she’s already used up her quota for homestyle cooking on the grilled cheese and, besides, Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. If he does then he doesn’t say anything about it, at least. He pounds back five slices— she really doubts he hates it that much. She eats three. Had it just been her she would have eaten one— maybe. She doesn’t have the energy these days to eat more than that. It’s a paradox, one that has her going to bed tired and waking up exhausted most days.

Something is different with him though. She wants to eat more because it means that she gets to sit a little longer at the creaky wooden table and pretend to be normal. She never thought feeling normal would mean eating cheap pizza with her bodyguard in a safe house but, well, they say normal is relative, right? Usually she eats in the dark, under the glow of whatever movie she deems fit to fill the silence that night. Sitting across from him makes her feel like she has some semblance of her old life back. Like she has a life at all— even if he’s being paid to sit there and listen to her prattle on about nothing.

After dinner is a little more awkward. She spends the next two hours milling about, pretending to read this book of dogs she had found earlier on the coffee table. She had always wanted a dog when she was younger, one of those huge great danes, charcoal black and big enough to snuggle with. The kind that would keep her safe and follow her everywhere she goes. There’s one just like she had always imagined on page one hundred and nine. Sleek and beautiful and huge. That’s probably why she keeps going back to the book.

All she really does is look at the pictures, not that she would tell him that. She can see him glancing at her every so often and she would like to keep her guise of being smart up for as long as possible. She wasn’t lying when she told him that she was the top of her class— she was, and valedictorian too. She is smart. Well, smart when it comes to technology at least. The rest is debatable. Her mother used to tell her that she’s book smart— that if she were kidnapped and dropped off in the middle of nowhere she would be screwed.

If only her mother could see her now— could see that she’s holding up.

You know, if holding up means wanting to scream and cry and throw this stupid Big Book of Dogs against the wall because she can’t scream and cry. She’s holding up on the outside— that’s what matters. If everyday is as bearable as this one then she’ll be able to do all three before she knows it. She’ll be able to sit in the dark, spoon in one hand, Chunky Monkey in the other, and throw whatever the fuck she wants at the wall. For now, though, she just has to look at the pictures of the great dane and swallow her screams like they’re ice cream.

Eventually she stands, shifting on her feet, trying not to cringe when the boards squeak under her. It doesn’t make his head turn and look at her— how can it when his stare has been burning into her since before she stood up? She doesn’t really know what to say— it’s nine-thirty and she could sit there for another two hours— two or three or seven, what’s the difference?— but there’s no point in pushing the inevitable. Eventually she is going to have to get ready for bed and then, by default, actually go to bed.

How is that going to work?

A picture of her laying next to him pops into her mind, one where her limbs are curled tight against her chest, her legs ramrod straight, afraid to even do so much as breathe. Not out of fear that he’d hurt her or anything like that, though. Out of fear that she’d embarrass herself is more accurate. That she would wake up— if she even slept at all— with her body sprawled on top of his like the protagonists in one of her cheesy, unrealistic rom-coms. This isn’t a movie— she doesn’t want it to be. If this is her life’s movie then she wants to have a word with the director. She wants out. This isn’t the script she agreed to.

She doesn’t know what to say so she doesn’t say anything, only gathers her bag from where she stashed it next to the couch. A threadbare messenger bag big enough for a few pairs of leggings, her older brother’s Dodgers t-shirt, and some toiletries. She slings it over her shoulder, acutely aware of the fact that his gaze never leaves her, watching as she straightens and turns, meeting his icy blue eyes without so much as a hint of shame forming in them. Why should he be ashamed? It’s his job— he’s being paid to stare. That’s what she tells herself. It doesn’t make her feel any less exposed— any less seen.

For a moment she just looks at him— like really, truly looks at him. Sure, she’s been with him for roughly twelve hours now. Theoretically she’s had plenty of time to look at him. And of course she has— there’s no way she could have avoided it even if she wanted to. She has looked at him just not like this. Not the details. The facts. That’s what this is— a fact finding mission. Yeah, that sounds right— that’s what she’ll say if he asks, at least.

She takes in his face first, craning her neck slightly to do so. Slightly means far enough that your head touches your shoulders now. She ticks things off in her head as goes— bronzed skin, strong jaw, straight nose. She finds it hard to believe that his nose has never been broken. She drops lower— pink lips, the bottom one fuller. She doesn’t linger there despite the ache that grows in her throat. When was the last time she kissed a man? Too long ago.

She continues on her mission before she has time to stop and think about what it means to stare at her bodyguard’s lips and think about kissing. Absolutely nothing good, that’s what. She tries to distract herself with his broad shoulders and the way his henley stretches at the seams, scrounging for any and every ounce of space. For a moment it works. She starts thinking about the kind of regime one would have to undergo in order to get to his size, then about where he has to buy his clothes, before finally landing on what it would feel like to slip her arms into his shirt and to be totally engulfed—

Nope— she flicks her eyes even further down, skimming over something that, though she’s been looking at it for the better half of all day, she still can’t wrap her head around. His hand. His metal hand. She can feel his stare turn to lead on her forehead— feel him waiting for her to ask.

She’s not going to.

Not because she doesn’t want to know the story. Of course she wants to know! Her whole life is— or at least was— technology. She wants to know why he needs it, who made it, what it’s made of, if it’s connected to his nervous system, if it’s— the idea is there. She’s curious— she’s a scientist. Just like it’s his job to keep her alive, it’s her job to be enthralled by innovation.

That doesn’t mean she’s going to ask though. She likes him too much to do that. He’s nice enough to her and he doesn’t treat her like the little orphan girl that everyone else does. He doesn’t tiptoe around her— not that he could. He’s too big for that. He just doesn’t treat her like a freak, so she won’t treat him like an experiment.

And, of course, he’s a human being not a machine. That’s probably more important. She likes him and he’s a human. Priorities or whatever.

She meets his gaze again, watching him watch her, her face setting on fire. “Bedtime?”

What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?

He presses his lips together, holding her stare for a beat before shrugging his shoulders, giving the henley a run for its money. “Bedtime.”

She turns at that, scampering up the stairs, listening to the thumping of his boots against the hardwood. It’s not a race but it’s also not not a race— she wants to get to the bathroom before he can so she can lock the door. She needs five minutes. That’s it. Just five minutes. Maybe it is a race.

“Hey— shit— wait!” She doesn’t, she only pumps her legs harder, almost slipping as she bolts into the bathroom, slamming the door and clicking the lock shut.

He really thought she wasn’t going to try that, huh? She learned her lesson this afternoon— the man takes his job very seriously.

The knob jiggles and she sticks her tongue out at it, finally in a space where she can let her bones relax. For the first time all day it feels like her skin isn’t on fire. It’s weird— she almost misses it. The door handle jiggles harder. Almost.

Five minutes, that’s all she needs.

His voice cuts through the door and she almost groans out loud. “You know I’m supposed to—”

“I know—” she starts pulling things out of her bag, hastily dropping what she doesn’t need and gathering what she does onto the vinyl countertop, very much aware of the ticking clock— “but the window in here isn’t even big enough for me to crawl out of so I think I can brush my teeth, yeah?”

She can practically feel the stress rolling off him, seeping under the crack between the door and the tiled floor. Half of her feels guilty but the other half couldn’t care less— she’s a grown ass woman and she will use the toilet without help.

She hears him let out a loud sigh and practically jumps in excitement— she won. “Fine— you get ten minutes, got it? Ten minutes and then I break this door down.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” Thank gods he can’t see her right now or she would most definitely melt through the ground.

“You’re down to seven now.”

She shakes her head at her reflection, scrunching her nose and rolling her eyes at herself— “That’s fair.”

She hurries to slather some toothpaste on her brush, plopping it into her mouth as she shimmies out of her daytime leggings and into her nighttime ones. A fashion icon. She somehow also manages to take her dad’s hoodie off, avoiding the toothbrush and replacing the tank top underneath with a fresh one from her bag. Take that, Barnes.

She scrubs at her teeth, simultaneously digging through her pile of things for the deodorant she knows is in there. She finds it after a moment, rinsing her mouth and running the bar one too many times over her armpits— there’s absolutely no way she’s about to go into that bedroom with even the slight possibility of smelling bad. Especially when she still doesn’t know the sleeping arrangements.

She swipes her things back into her bag, shoving them in roughly, not noticing the hairbrush teetering precariously on the edge of the counter. It’s like it’s taunting her, just waiting to get her in trouble. That’s exactly what it does, too— just as her eyes meet the sinister blue plastic it’s too late, the brush already hurtling off the edge and crashing against the floor. Of course it has to hit the tiles head on and miss the hoodie by an inch. Time freezes for a moment when she hears the clang— well, there go the last three minutes of solitude.

She scrambles back just as the door slams open, fully expecting it but not any less startled, the area where the lock would be splintering into a million tiny pieces of wood— of dust— he pulverized the door! Her heart pounds furiously as Bucky surges forward, his jean clad legs pressing against her exposed shoulder, his body rigid as he does a full circle of the tiny bathroom, yanking back the shower curtain as if an assassin would really think that is the best hiding place. God she’s so fucking mortified.

He doesn’t move away from her when he finally looks down, his dark eyebrows drawn into a tight line, chest heaving so hard she wonders if the material is going to split right down the middle. His leg against her is hot, even through the material. Almost as hot as her face— face, neck, shoulders, toes.

“What happened?”

She meekly holds up the blue plastic brush, squeezing her eyes shut. “He just snuck up on me Bucky— I thought I was a goner.”

She cracks an eye open to his clenched jaw, his still heaving chest now much lower— closer. He takes the brush from her hand, setting it on the counter before offering his own hand— the flesh hand— out to her. She takes it, letting him effortlessly pull her body from the ground without so much as even a grunt. Before she knows it she’s eye level with the buttons on his shirt, leaning all the way back in order to meet his simmering crystal eyes.

“We’re not doing that again.” We’re. As in both of them— a team.

She tries to keep from trembling at his deep voice. It doesn’t work. He notices— of course he notices— and takes a step back. She doesn’t have the heart— or the gall— to tell him that she’s not shaking because she’s afraid of him.

“It was a hairbrush.” She sighs, curling her arms around her chest, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever under the surprisingly bright fluorescents.

Of course now, when she’s standing in a flimsy tank top, is the one time the lights aren’t dimmed.

He doesn’t back down, seething his words between his teeth. “This time— this time it was a hairbrush.”

She shakes her head, dropping her eyes and bending to scoop up her hoodie— she doesn’t want to see him angry at her. It makes her feel guilty; like her her chest is caving in on itself. She doesn’t need that on top of everything else.

“Fine, whatever.” She grabs her bag, brushing by him.

She knows that she’s being childish. She isn’t an idiot, contrary to what her mind likes to tell her. She’s just exhausted. Exhausted of having to always look over her shoulder, exhausted of wondering who’s going to die next— if she’s going to die next, exhausted of having to actively try to stay alive. She’s just exhausted in general. She doesn’t want to die but, gods, if she isn’t so damn tired of having to think about it. Aren’t you supposed to just live? Not think about living?

She pushes open the door to the bedroom, dumping her bag next to the cedar chest at the end of the bed, refusing to turn around when she hears his footsteps— much quieter than she’s yet to hear them— enter behind her. She crosses her arms again, digging her fingers into the flesh hard enough to give herself something to focus on other than how much she wants to rip every strand of hair from her head. Her eyes wander over the olive duvet, noting how the color makes the black iron frame pop in contrast. Maybe she should change up her bedroom back home.

She bites her lip— she’s stalling. It’s a queen sized bed, more than big enough for both of them. Maybe she should offer it to him. There’s barely any room on the floor to sprawl out, only a small space either next to the dresser beside the bed or in front of the chest. Either way he would probably have to lay as stiff as possible to avoid bumping his limbs. The right thing to do would be to offer it to him— to take the floor.

She listens as he takes a step, the air behind her shifting, and she tenses. “Look, I think we should talk—”

“Do you want the bed?” She tries to keep her tone balanced— to keep from hurling the words at him like daggers. Or like hair brushes.

“I’m serious, I’m sor—”

She whirls around, her hair flying around her face, features schooled but tone edging closer towards being unhinged— she just needs to sleep. “Do you want the bed?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes— she’s tired of that game, it's time to start a new one. This one’s called how long can y/n stare at the buttons on his henley until before she sets them on fire out of sheer willpower. His chest deflates, his hands twitching at his sides before curling and slipping behind his back. He’s looking at her— of course he is. It’s all he does. It’s his job.

“You take it.” He says it so quietly she barely hears it, his tone the picture of resignation. It doesn’t make her feel good— she didn’t think it would though.

His stare never leaves her. She’s still not looking at him but she can tell. It makes her skin burn from her ears all the way down to her chest, her skin prickling like she's being prodded by a thousand mini suns. She feels like she’s in the desert and she forgot to put sunscreen on. Is this what flowers feel like? Does the sun beat down so relentlessly on them that they feel like they’re being set on fire? As relentlessly as he watches her?

It’s his job, it’s his job, it’s his job.

“Okay.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She lays in bed for three hours, eyes wide open and body pin straight. The room is pitch black, spare a hint of light pouring in from under the door. It shines a stripe onto the olive duvet, one that she just barely flicks her wrist back and forth through. Not enough to ruffle the loud blanket— which for the record crinkles louder than a chip bag when she moves even an inch underneath it— but enough to watch the light dance over her skin and keep her from going completely mad. She feels like a cat chasing a laser— entirely moronic but strangely entertained. Alas, all good things must come to an end.

By the time the fourth hour rolls around she is beyond restless. The strip of light got old a half hour ago— which, granted, kept her entertained for far longer than she would be willing to admit but still. Now she wants to move. She needs to move. If she were home she would still be awake. The digital clock beside the bed flashes one-thirty, scarlet red and glaring at her. It’s not even close to the ungodly hour in which she usually crawls into her bed, pulling the blanket over her head and praying for the sun to magically disappear. Not even close.

She can practically hear Lindsy Lohan calling her name— it’s Wednesday, y/n. On Wednesdays we wear pink. Yeah, she knows Lindsy! Unfortunately the big man on the floor doesn’t know that. Usually her Wednesday's aren’t so blocked— is it even Wednesday? It doesn’t matter. She just wants to watch Mean Girls now— with or without the Chunky Monkey.

She waits another ten minutes, mulling the idea over as the anticipation steadily grows in her stomach, churning her organs into soup over the idea of having to tiptoe past her sleeping bodyguard. She holds her breath a few times, making sure his breathing is even and calm. Making sure that he’s asleep. Each time his breaths are the same, gentle, even hiss of air. In, out, pause. In, out, pause. Over and over and over again. For a moment she debates staying and just listening to him breathe for the rest of the night. But no— that’s creepy and she’s sure that she can be in and out without him waking up in the hour and thirty-seven minutes it takes to watch the movie.

Yes she counted and every minute is worth the risk— she’s doing it!

She takes a deep breath, sliding as silently as she can under the covers. Each movement feels magnified— like someone is holding a microphone to her limbs. She just prays that the microphone isn’t connected to his ears. What are the odds that he’s a heavy sleeper? Nevermind, she doesn’t want to know.

After what feels like an eternity of inching her way to the edge of the bed her foot finally shoots over the edge, greeting the chilly air and sending a jolt racing up her spine. She’s really doing it. She slips the other out next, rising onto her elbows and holding the position. She can’t see her legs— hell, she can’t see her hand two feet in front of her face— but she can feel the space depleting as she slips off the mattress. Biting back a hiss as her toes brace against the hardwood, she just barely stops herself from hopping up and down. If she were home she would amp up the theatrics, maybe throw in a squeal for good measure— forget technology, being a drama queen is her true calling.

Just not when there’s a man who she needs to stay asleep laying a few feet away from her.

She shuffles blindly forward, trying to remember where she saw him lay down before she turned off the lamp. That was four hours ago though and she’s starting to think that all that time playing with the crack of light has fried her brain. She thinks he’s near the chest but she can’t be sure.

She could swear—she could drop the loudest f-bomb this planet has ever known. She would, too, if she knew it wouldn’t wake him up. All she wants to do is watch some petty, pretty girls fight over a mediocre brunette. Is that really too much to ask for?

No— the answer is no. So she does what any self respecting woman would do in that situation and she wings it. She guesses. That’s respectable, right? Right. She takes each step with care, searching for any warm spots that might give her a hint as to where he is, all the while chasing after that little crack of light like it’s heaven. Because that’s what it is— a haven from having to lay alone with her thoughts all night.

As was to be expected sooner rather than later, her toes brush against a rather hot patch of wood and she freezes. He’s here— somewhere— she just has no idea where here is. She squints, searching for even a hint of the man. When she comes away with nothing, the scream— the one that’s never quite gone, always just simmering in the back of her throat— surges. She has to swallow— swallow, gag, same thing— in order to keep from foiling her own plan.

She brushes her foot forward. Slowly. Painfully, excruciatingly slowly. When her toes brush against the folds of a blanket she gasps. It slips out before she can stop it and she plasters a hand over her mouth as soon as it happens, praying that it isn’t too late— that there’s still a chance she can make it.

She hears Bucky shift on the ground, holding her breath, her toes a mere foot away from the soldier. She counts in her head— one, two, three, oh fuck is he moving, four— before taking another step. Repeating the process, it takes four rounds of this little tip toe game until her hands finally land against the door frame, searching through the darkness until her fingers curl around the knob. Mean Girls here she comes.

“Where ya’ going?” Bucky’s voice cuts through the night easily, rich and deep and cruel.

There isn’t even a hint of sleep in his tone— he was awake the entire time. Her face flushes, her neck searing hot. She can almost hear her skin crackling where the straps of her tank top touch her. She should have known he wouldn’t be a deep sleeper— or sleeping at all, apparently. Damnit.

“I, ah, was just going to the bathroom?” Really? The bathroom?

She has never been so thankful for the dark than she is in this moment, if only because he can’t see the way she rolls her eyes at her own stupidity and scrunches her entire face up. She can’t scream— that idea’s already been scrapped— so it’s the next best thing. That doesn’t stop her throat from bubbling though, the frustration knocking on her windpipe like the friendly neighbour back for even more sugar.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” She swears for a moment she can hear a hint of laughter in his voice, just enough to make the accusation bearable.

She whirls around, hands glued to her hips and trying not to slam her foot down like an insolent toddler. Something hot flares up in her chest— something which she hasn’t felt in ages. Anger. It makes her want to smack him. She wouldn’t, of course, but she wants to— she wants to wipe the smirk out of his words. She wants to more than she’s wanted to do anything in a very long time.

“What do you want me to say then, hmm?”

She can just make out the way Bucky pushes himself up, his shadowy figure now taking up more space. Taking up space in general— of course now she can see him. If she were closer to him she is sure his head would sit above her belly button, right under her brea— stop that, y/n!

“How ‘bout the truth?” God she can still hear that insufferable smirk.

“That was the truth.”

“It wasn’t.”

His breath comes in hot puffs against her stomach— he’s closer than she thought. She doesn’t realize her tank top has ridden up until his face is inches away from her exposed skin. She tries not to shudder as she yanks the material back down her abdomen. Traitorous body!

She wants to rip her hair out— again. “Yes, it was—”

He’s standing now, pushing his way towards her in the dark until she can feel the heat rolling off his body, face to face with a hulking chest. “Just tell me what you want so we can do it, alright?”

There it is again— we.

She can’t breathe. This seems to be becoming a trend— her not being able to breathe when he’s around her. This time it’s her fault though. She squishes her eyes closed, taking a moment to pull in some much needed air. It does little to help her— it smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. She has no idea how he manages to smell like a bakery— or how she hasn’t noticed until now, when she needs more than anything to pull away from the warmth and not fall deeper into it. Unprofessional, y/n— you’re supposed to be the grieving daughter.

She takes another moment, ignoring how he shifts on his feet, clearly becoming impatient, before finally whispering— “I wanted to watch a movie.”

A pause— a long one— before a soft ‘okay’.

For a moment she thinks she hears him wrong— no way the giant soldier is down for movie night with her. Shouldn’t he be telling her to go back to bed? Telling her that it isn’t in his job description to babysit her— to keep her entertained? Surely he doesn’t actually want to watch a movie.

“You don’t have to—”

“Actually, I do.” Oh yeah. He has to follow her wherever she goes. She almost forgot that she might die.

Die for what— wanting to watch a god damn movie?

“Forget it— it was stupid.”

She goes to brush past him, tucking her shoulders up and into her neck, trying to put some space between them as she tucks tail and slips back towards the bed. Talk about a busted ego.

A hand curls around her forearm, halting her retreat. “Let’s watch a movie— can’t sleep anyway.”

She swallows thickly. If she were to turn her cheek a few inches she is sure it would brush against his shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

“‘Course I am.”

She nods— she knows he can’t see her but she doesn’t trust her voice— and that’s how she ends up watching Mean Girls with a man large enough to rip her in half with his bare hands. A few times she glances over at him, searching through the glow of the TV to the other side of the supple leather couch where his gaze remains locked on the screen. She’s even sure she hears a few breathy laughs— like he’s trying not to laugh but he can’t help it.

The big bad bodyguard likes chick flicks.

About halfway through something unexpected happens— her eyelids begin to heavy. It’s stange, the clock on the wall reads only slightly past two in the morning. She never sleeps before six. Regardless, though, she curls her legs into her body, tucking them under the hoodie she had replaced before leaving the room. Her head slopes against the arm of the couch, eyes fluttering a few times before dropping shut. She’s not going to sleep, obviously— just resting her eyes.

She feels something heavy pool on her lap and the faintest wisps of fingers— some warm and some cold— adjusting the new weight. It brushes against her shin— a blanket. He put a blanket on her. She pulls it closer, dragging it over her cheek, trying her best to stave off the sleep tugging at her limbs. Maybe a conversation will help. There are a few things she’s been meaning to tell him.

“I didn’t mind it.” She whispers it but she’s sure he can hear her over the all but muted TV.

The couch cushions shift, sinking for a moment before stilling. She can picture him facing her now, his head tilted, blue eyes serious. Always on alert, always ready to defend.

“What?” He even sounds defensive— like he’s waiting for her to drop a bomb on him.

Silly man, can’t you see that she can barely even force the last word out of her mouth with how tired she is?

“Doll. I—” she yawns, pulling her limbs closer to her, tucking a hand under her head— “I didn’t mind it.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. If it were daytime she’s sure she would have cared but for now she’s okay not feeling any of the prescribed embarrassment.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t say anything else, only snuggles deeper into the arm of the couch. It must be the exhaustion talking— that’s what she’ll tell herself tomorrow anyway when she’s forced to confront this conversation again. For now she just gives in, letting herself fall into the darkness without fear for what feels like the first time in months.

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