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afreakingdork · 5 months

Text

Spring Break

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader One-Shot

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, POV Second Person, Friends to Lovers, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Yearning, Romance, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, One-Shot

Synopsis: You're on your first spring break of college and returning back home to NYC. Donnie has agreed to pick you up from the airport and the season of change is ready to exercise its rights upon your friendship with him.

Also available on Ao3

I cannot thank @tmntxthings enough! She took my half formed plot bunny and helped me finish it up and embellish it with the cutest ideas!! This fic would not exist without her and she gets my endless affection! 💞

Plane descent, it was the one part of flying that really felt like a roller coaster. With its little dips and adjustments, your stomach would rise in turn. It made some sick, but you found it exciting. It was a manifestation of coming home. With each drop in altitude you were a little bit closer and, no matter how people felt about plane rides, the excitement was palpable. Even those tired and exhausted, ready for their changeovers, were glad for a moment on the ground.

This was your stop and you were especially excited for what waited for you.

Clinging to your phone, there was a final announcement and you looked out the window. Watching fields and houses grow closer and closer, your heart alternatively soared. Ants took on definition and eventually you were doing the careful careen through buildings to land in LaGuardia. With a squeaky landing that jarred your body, people stood through the taxiing process which prompted fights with flight attendants.

You were back in New York City.

A fervor running throughout the plane, there was still the docking process and each second ticked by through syrup until you got a text.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: I am at the appropriate baggage claim.

It was a new entry in a sea of others that had you momentarily closing your eyes. You then typed out a response about what you’d endured since landing and Donnie kept you occupied with messages right up until it was time to deboard. Bumping and jostling and giving appropriate glares back, you were soon just shy of running down a tunnel. Just like descent, you were closing in by the moment and once you broke free from a certain pair of doors, you paused only to take stock. It was fate, you thought, that people parted and there he was.

Donatello stood bundled up both for some kind of anonymity and the early spring weather. A balmy cool outside, trees were clinging for a bit more warmth before they burst with color. You were going to miss the blossoms this time around, but you had a lifetime of watching the petals dot the otherwise dirty streets before. You always liked this season. There was a sense of change in the air. A metamorphosis, you saw not just the growth between your youth and now, but everything from the last half year.

You were offered a full ride to a school all the way across the country.

You accepted and left behind everything.

The long days of your first semester would have been lonely if not for a certain purple coded turtle offering to marathon shows with you online.

You texted in the cafeteria until you found your crowd.

You continued to message him because he had to know the latest gossip.

A webcam was sent to you as a gift so you could better work on projects together across multiple state lines.

You clung to Donnie as a virtual lifeline through your first set of finals.

The Christmas holdover in California due to a lab opportunity had been a daunting choice.

It was made all the better as you were given a digital spot at the Hamato family table during Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Then came another bout of studying for midterms.

All to now, where he’d offered to pick you up after something had come up with your parents and you had complained of the taxi fare on your spring break budget.

You were in motion.

In fact, you were barreling towards him. He heard the footsteps, but didn’t connect them to your person as he looked up. Now knowing the source, he jammed his phone in his pocket and took on a sort of prepared alarm. Then, at the last second, he pivoted a foot out. A careful rotation, he lowered his stance into a readied one. It was all the confirmation you needed as you leapt.

He caught you at the same time for the hug and you crushed yourself to him. Momentum should have knocked the air out of you, but he swung. Your body twirled up with your heart and, by the time you were set down, you were groping to get more of him. This was new, you remembered. His scent wasn’t like coming home. You’d never been close enough to really get a whiff. Clinging to his worn hoodie didn’t crop up memories of softness because you had at most brushed it in passing.

You’d known this mutant for seven months and this was your first hug.

You wanted more.

Your only saving grace was he appeared to feel the same. For each tug, to get your arms tighter around his neck, he gave equal pressure around your waist. As you butted your head to his, he clawed into your own jacket, trying to get you that much closer.

It was warm.

It was overwhelming.

You didn’t want to let go.

“Hey.” You murmured against him.

“Greetings.” His voice responded. “How was your flight?”

“Good. Boring. Long.” You nuzzled closer.

“A full work day’s flight.” Donnie hummed, amused.

“Thanks for picking me up. It’s good to see you.”

Finally, after what must have been too long, Donnie pulled back enough to view you with a chide. “You as well.”

A little shy, your arms slipped to rest against his plastron and an announcement interrupted citing luggage. A quick check found you were at the right carousel and you sent Donnie a wry look. “We’re in the right place.”

“I was clear about my location.” He playfully rolled his eyes and reluctantly relinquished you to approach the long luggage circle.

You followed close behind and bumped arms with him. “Oh, there was this lady who would not stop yaking about the toast squares she got in that plane snack mix.”

“Ah, yes, the snack gacha.” Donnie chuckled and bags began to drift down the line.

He explained the odds and you walked him backwards through your trip. There was a gap from when you’d set off for your flight until arrival. He’d been on a video call when you’d packed your suitcase so when said luggage came winding down the metal slide, you didn’t need to say a thing. He knew it and hoisted it up where you shouldered your backpack. You’d returned with mostly things to wash, but you figured that was part of coming home.

You soon drifted away from the building. Working through the bustling drop offs zone, you headed to where Donnie had sequestered one of his vehicles. Parking cost too much for the tank, he settled on something visually low key though the interior was just as technologically stacked as the others. It was a resistance in temptation to press buttons on the dash you had never seen. They felt familiar as he’d taken you on a phone tour when he completed retrofitting the van, but it felt different in person.

Conversation took you home and, before you realized it, you were idling on the street.

Time had slipped through your fingers like water and you hadn’t cupped enough to drink. There’d even been traffic, you’d sat through it, but it hadn’t prolonged the journey. You were due inside. Your parents were waiting. You also would need to leave Donnie. He’d only ever been here to give you this ride. Heart sinking regardless, you moved to give Donnie your regards with a forlorn tilt of your head.

“Let me help you with your bag.” He rushed the statement.

Your eyes met.

You were both a little too eager to delay the inevitable.

“Thank you, I’d appreciate it.” You told him though your heart wanted to ask him over for dinner.

You’d already skipped coming home for winter break and there was no way your parents would allow an interloper to impede on catching up with their child.

You were required to spend time with them first, then friends.

Duty was a strange thing. It brought you home to mom even though you were an adult with a supposed choice. It had your friend hoisting your stuffed suitcase out of the back of a van where you had created the burden of the heft. You clicked up stairs, your luggage wheels hopping steps and Donnie felt the need to fill the space as if he were required to keep from giving you a moment of quiet.

You were thankful.

You didn’t want to think of how you’d miss him.

Again, he’d felt the same.

You liked that about him.

Reaching your door, you knew you hadn’t messaged your parents for this same reason.

It was your own coveted surprise amongst what you had to do.

Donnie was careful in carting your suitcase up silently.

It felt like a stolen moment. “We still on for Wednesday?”

“Yes.” He nodded and pulled up a ninpo calendar for the sake of it. “Mikey has forewarned Señor Hueso and if you make April wait a moment more, I think she will strangle whoever is closest.”

“Of course.” You bobbed your head and felt the reminder of the knob.

You needed to go home.

You needed to see your parents.

You hadn’t seen them in so long.

You hugged Donnie.

Slower this time, you still moved quick enough that you avoided the awkward shuffle. It was an instant threading of bodies where you had to stave off a sigh. You fit so well without practice and his toned arms slung so comfortably around your waist. You bumped your head to his for the sake of closeness. He stilled and you thought it too much until he turned his beak to nuzzle the side of your head. From his inhale, he was catching your smell so you openly breathed him in the same.

Then you came apart, heads down, unable to bear to see the other leave as you mumbled out promises of seeing each other soon.

Donnie left by the sound of stairs and you unearthed your key to head inside.

Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.

The rest of your Saturday had been a flurry of catching up with your folks. You were pelted with every question under the sun and the few phone calls with them you’d had throughout the school year seemed to have never happened. Your parents remembered none of the details no matter how much you whined about how you’d already told them about your class load. You were struck with backhanded comments about missing the holidays and how this cousin had proposed and that nephew had gone skiing and would you believe the tan your aunt got?

Then came sleeping in your old bed which was now a foreign one.

You called Donnie with your headphones on and he answered after only one ring.

Unable to stand the odd sheets, you curled up beside your window for faint outdoor light and watched Donnie on screen eat snacks as you unloaded about how annoying it all was. You loved your parents, but it was always something. He took his time in the conversation after your most heated complaints were air cooled and then subjected you to his own. His family’s separation anxiety was on another level, but he never made it a competition. You instead felt commiseration, even if the comparisons were outlandish.

Exhaustion took you to bed and the old smell of you drifted up like one you didn’t recognize. You were just tired enough to mention the discrepancy and Donnie made a comment on how you’d changed. You weren’t sure you had as you hadn’t felt like it, but you guessed of anyone, he would know best.

How had that come to be?

Your best friend was here and someone you’d known since elementary school. You still loved them, but they’d fallen to a certain wayside once Donnie appeared. Meeting him had been an accident at best. From senior year finals, you’d picked up a local coffee shop as your own. During summer, you switched to drinks for fun instead of necessity and a new barista started that you liked. She was great at conversation and better at upsizing drinks with a wink so you always made sure to tip. There came a day when you forgot to have cash on hand and you promised to come back by to fork it over. Now on a first name basis, April had scoffed it off, but you still returned after making change at a nearby bodega. It hadn’t been more than 20 minutes and yet she had disappeared. You waited for her to return from break only to notice a mutant was similarly off to the side and one you’d come to find was waiting for the same April.

That was early August.

You’d gone to UC Berkeley in early September.

That was less than a month knowing the turtle in person.

Now you were drifting off to Donnie complaining about how he’d been found sneaking into East Laird’s lab yet again.

He just needed access to one chemical.

They wouldn’t miss it.

He’d doctored the supply sheets himself.

The janitor was paranoid.

You giggled and it must have come too late because he ordered you to sleep.

You told him you missed him.

In truth, you did.

He murmured the same along with a mention of Wednesday.

It wasn’t here yet.

Texting helped as Sunday led straight to a family meal with whoever was in town. You rehashed the exact same stories about school more times than you could count. Your scholarship was both held up like a heavyweight champ’s belt while others spoke to you like you were some Hollywood convert. It didn’t matter that there were six driving hours between the two places. You’d betrayed some inane state pride by going to a far flung college and whether that was a success or pompous choice was your family’s to debate.

You went to bed so angry afterward that you broke your 125 day streak of saying goodnight to Donnie.

You woke up under your old ceiling.

Breakfast reminded you of high school.

Dad had work.

Mom had lunch.

She talked and you listened.

You saw your best friend in the 3 o’clock doldrums.

It was awkward until it wasn’t.

It took about an hour, but you fell in line to your old pattern.

You meant to message your bestie more, but college had taken both of you in different directions.

Who’s this guy you keep mentioning?

Donatello, was it?

Did you meet someone?

What a story that was and it came with a growing smile from your best friend. Each passing word felt like guilt off your lips and you were teased mercilessly.

No, stop that! We aren’t dating!

Why would you ask?

It’s perfectly normal to help a friend out like he did.

Yes, we’re close.

Not that close.

He’s a nice guy.

Yes, really nice, what are you insinuating?

It wasn’t like that.

You wanted to call Donnie on your way home.

Your best friend’s words kept you from it.

Tuesday your dad had off from work and, though they took you, you ended up showing your parents around Prospect Park. Where they’d only heard it was nice, you had seen enough from social media to actually maneuver it. You picked a restaurant they hated and then a bakery they loved. You were nagged incessantly and then pestered.

Tell us about your new college friends!

You don’t sound like you have many, what happened?

Oh, whos’ that?

Tell me more!

Are they nice?

Go to any crazy parties? We won’t judge.

They did.

They judged everything.

You kept Donatello’s name out of your mouth, though he appeared with each question.

He kept you sane.

He had been there for you.

He made things better.

You texted him as you ran to a bathroom stall for a moment of peace.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Hard to go back after your taste of freedom?

It was such a him response.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Tomorrow, you’ll have us.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Don’t worry.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: Until then, say the word and I can call you away with a lab emergency.

Donatello, not to be confused with the famous Italian Sculptor: I know the codes for several. Do not ask why.

It helped as you rejoined your parents.

One more day.

Wednesday morning and afternoon were tedious affairs with little to do outside of the dreaded laundry. You aired and disinfected your suitcase and ended up cleaning for the sake of it. It made your mom happy and you prepped ingredients for your parent’s dinner even though you wouldn’t be partaking. It would be another nicety in hopes that they wouldn’t say a word when you stayed out late.

It wasn’t like you had a curfew, but you knew the biting remark would be there.

You left just before your parents got home so you sent messages to both of them to cover your bases. Their sent confirmation was like a final school bell and you were running down stairs at an alarming pace. Donnie’s text window appeared next and you shot out a message about your imminent arrival. You felt a buzz in response and wound an oddly familiar path to the necessary sewer grate. One prepped for access to the turtle’s tunnel, you climbed down and only then brought up a map. Above was one thing as you knew your local streets, but the journey below was one you’d never had time to memorize. Donnie’s map was clear and as you switched from sewer to subway lines, you soon came to the brighter lights of the lair.

The Hamato were piled in the living room and you saw Donnie amongst the bale.

He smiled, but it was Mikey who wrapped around you.

Your name was shouted and it summoned the others who hadn’t been paying as much attention. You got friendly pats, several more squeezes from Mikey, one bear hug from April, and a litany of pelted words from the others. Leo’s Hollywood comment didn’t sting as much because he pulled it out in a reference to Son in Law. He did a pretty good Pauly Shore impression and your praise had him pulling out more impersonations. As the chides and jokes flew, you thought about how they hadn’t pelted you with a million and one questions about your college life. They cared little about class and only if you’d had time to catch any local movies or shows.

You nearly wept at not having to talk about only the studious side of your life and you got to share a movie you recently streamed with Donnie. The others hadn’t known either of you watched it and you both excitedly regaled them on reasons not to without spoiling anything. You laughed about a plot line of having been plucked from their environment and joked about red squirrels. Donnie responded in kind about grey and you both laughed until you realized you were the only ones.

“What’s that about?” April asked where she was folded over a couch beside Raph.

“O-oh, it’s-!” You choked on giggles and held onto Donnie’s arm since he was close.

“You see, there was this inane test question that kept coming up.” Donnie filled in for you.

“Non-native grey squirrels have basically put native red ones on the endangered list!” You spoke with too much levity for the topic.

“Now this is a known ecological issue, but the way the professor framed the question…?” Donnie shook his head with a smile.

“He made it out to be like a gang war! So-so Donnie made this joke because they always, freaking always run out of breakfast in the caf when I get out of my morning class about my territory being disrupted!” You giggled.

Donnie bumped you to chastise. “Wait, you’re leaving out your classmate who runs to beat you there, your grey squirrel!”

“Omigosh! I don’t even know her name!” You cracked up.

“You’ve yet to mention the actual campus grey squirrel!” Donnie pressed.

You laughed harder. “Omigosh, he hates me and anyone that goes near his door on South Hall!!”

You both hurled more examples that fit into your branching squirrel joke and you thought everyone was having a good time until Raph’s voice cut through. “Sounds like a good inside joke.”

You weren’t immediately sobered, but your giggles grew strange.

“Yeah, I’m not getting it, but hey that happens.” Leo shrugged. “Squirrels aren’t my first comedy punching bag.”

“They’re cute! What do you mean they kill each other!?” Mikey had a watery expression. “To extinction!? How could they!?”

April patted his back. “It’s a dog eat dog world.”

“Is that why we were the Mad Dogz?” Leo looked to Raph.

“No, but I’m going to say yes.” Raph shined back a snaggletoothed grin.

With that the others moved on.

Suddenly feeling painfully self-conscious, you shirked and felt that Donnie’s hand behind your back.

You looked up at him and he had a grin and whisper waiting for you. “These dum-dums don’t know good comedy.”

“You are the funny one.” You softened up and, in an instant, felt reassured.

He pressed lightly for you to join the room and you jumped back into the conversation which had moved onto pigeons. A hotly debated topic, you took sides and spouted facts you had learned in class. Memes were then shared and eventually you went to Hueso’s. The rowdiest table for what was a comical argument about whether they were his favorite customers, the skeleton yokai refused to answer and only spoke of cash spent and tabs to be paid. Leo chased the man into the kitchen to be his usual intrusive self and you stayed present in table conversation the best you could.

It was difficult when Donnie kept sending you reaction images based on said speech and you found it impossible not to reach right for your phone so each joke would land fresh. It eventually meant both of you were side by side texting on another and it was only when the food came did you jar out of it.

“Can’t leave your significant others for even a second?” Mikey jeered before he tapered off. “Though I kind of thought it was you that Donnie was texting… But that’d be weird right!? You’re literally sitting together, why text?” He laughed.

Others laughed.

You and Donnie didn’t.

It spurned April to steal Donnie’s phone.

Some kind of betrayal, Donnie nearly flipped the table to get it back, but the flash of screen April had seen was enough.

You two were outed and ruthlessly drilled.

This was supposed to be fun, you thought to yourself as you tried to field lobs. They weren’t supposed to be rude like your family and yet you were back to fending vultures off.

Yes, you spent hours talking.

No, you weren’t dating.

Yes, you texted.

No, it wasn’t because it was a secret conversation.

Yes, you were just friends.

No, you weren’t more.

It was only when Leo reappeared and saw the distress mounting on you and Donnie did he step up in his leader position and caught the table’s attention by the throat. He laid out a new topic in the form of recent battles and that conversation took the heat off. You sighed into the booth, feeling particularly drained and when Leo shoved in to have more seat, it bumped you right into Donnie.

Donnie made room, but his hand stayed on the seat, close to yours.

You tapped a questioning finger to his.

Your heart was heavy.

Were you wrong?

Was your friendship weird?

Donnie had gotten you through moving across the country.

Donnie had done so much.

You really, really liked him.

His finger curled around yours for reassurance.

You’d asked once hadn’t you?

Something about if you bothered him early on since you talked just about constantly.

Donnie had scoffed by saying the word itself and told you that he put forth as much effort as he cared to.

You’d be the first to know if he was displeased.

He’d been honest.

When you complained about a science he liked, he didn’t care how hard the class was, you got an earful.

One of the few times you’d tried to use him as an excuse not to study, he’d hung right up and temporarily blocked you so you’d be forced to.

Your hands moved and, with a rush of your pulse, you tucked your other fingers up and over his.

He held your hand with one and ate pizza with his other as if nothing strange had occurred.

You did the same and spoke more normality by responding to something Mikey said.

It was taken with its own retort and everything felt right.

“I’m stuffed!” April flopped back and her jacket slunk down lazily on her shoulders.

“Can’t… move…” Raph groaned.

“That’s what happens when you are here for four hours and thirty seven minutes ordering non-stop.” Hueso commented as he picked up several empty pizza trays.

“One for the road?” Leo burped.

“Depends…” Hueso cracked a brow and slid over the check.

Leo flicked his eyes down once and then over to his tablemates where everyone dodged the question.

“Maybe next time.” Leo spoke guilt and Hueso hummed knowingly as he departed. “Split time! Cough it up!”

Complaints were loud as all sorts of money was deposited on the table.

“I love and hate catching up!” Leo crooned once an appropriate amount was placed.

“We were literally here four days ago.” Raph didn’t have the energy to eye his brother.

“Bah!” Leo swung a lethargic arm and it flopped on the table.

“No more pizza for… four more days…” Mikey grunted.

“Heh, you guys’s diet sucks.” April chuckled and fell over into Mikey on purpose.

The youngest squeaked and dominoed into Raph who shouldered the weight without moving.

“We’ll see you again, what? Friday, right?” Leo craned his head toward you.

Leo was dismissing you.

It was late.

This had been the plan.

Two days.

Donnie squeezed your hand.

You had never let go.

“Well…” You tried to respond.

“You know!” Donnie cut through conversation as if he hadn’t heard how it was coming to a close. “Remember how we weren’t able to find Jupiter Jim and His Majesty Cromslor anywhere online?”

The table quieted and you looked to Donnie curiously. “Oh yeah… We missed it in our marathon.”

“I purchased a copy then, but it only came in a few days ago.”

“That took…” You flicked up a few fingers to count. “Months!?”

“Oversees. Probably a boot leg, but it does indeed work.” Donnie smiled at you.

You felt a flutter in your gut. “We should-”

“Watch it now?” His brows bobbed. “Well everyone?” Donnie looked out, carefree to his inebriated brethren. “Movie night?”

“I’m sleeping!” Raph announced. “Don’t wake me and we’re good.”

“But Don…!” Leo’s head fell onto where his arm was still on the table.

“I could watch.” Mikey’s shoulders bobbed beneath April.

“I’m out. Got work.” April yawned.

“Then it’s settled.” Donnie turned back to you. “Not that we needed permission.”

You chewed on a giggle. “Can’t wait.”

Everyone else dragged themselves back to the lair, but you and Donnie took up the rear as you discussed some lab work. Delving into the study you’d monitored over winter break and what came of it, you were soon sat around the projector where Splinter was asleep in his chair. Raph used the last of his energy carting his dad off to bed and Mikey settled into a bean bag with commands to turn his head towards the screen. Leo helped in that matter and set himself up with his phone in hand to hang out more than watch. You and April said your goodbyes and then Donnie joined you on the couch. Raph didn’t return until well past the first quarter of the movie, but didn’t seem to mind as he flopped down to watch a film presumably the family had seen many times before.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of the movie until Donnie leaned into you. Your shoulders brushing, he whispered to you a fun fact about the movie that gave way to more. With your head turned against the cushion, you eventually stopped watching the film to instead stare at him. He was enthralling. His lips moved with specific enunciation that you knew came from his love of pizzazz. He topped it off with eloquence from IQ and his flair was infectious no matter how emotionless he tried to present himself.

You adored him.

The credits rolled and there was light after movie discussion where you all found Raph had fallen asleep as promised. Donnie regaled you in his theories on how this movie affected the larger Jupiter Jim universe while he threw a blanket over his older brother. Leo pitched in a few notes about his comic knowledge, but no matter how obsessed the Hamatos’ were in this film series, there was still a limit of how much conversation could be shared.

“Welp!” Leo announced, coming down from a stretch.

That was the second final call of the night.

You had already overstayed your welcome.

You pulled out your phone to text your parents.

Donnie touched your wrist. “Before I forget, I finished my latest project. That targeted hearing device.”

You slowed. “Oh yeah, were you able to work out that model on how it decides what to filter?”

“Yes, in fact, I had a breakthrough-!”

“You finished that two nights ago right? When you were pacing in that fit?” Leo interrupted.

Mikey perked up. “Oh yeah, you were so upset, but you wouldn’t say why! If it was just because you were doing your usual tech walk things, then why not tell us?”

Donnie had obvious guilt and raised his hands.

You stared.

Two nights ago was when you hadn’t been able to text him goodnight.

You were in motion and interjected yourself with force into the fray. “Show us!”

Leo and Mikey looked at you curiously.

You tried not to balk. “It was for you guys too! It will help you gather intel on missions!”

“I thought it was just for your goggles or business people who never take their Bluetooth out, even at dinner parties?” Leo quizzed Donnie.

“The applications are wide ranging! Why do you think I patented it?” Donnie held his head haughtily and headed toward his lab.

The line there went first Donnie and Leo paired where Donie was putting his all into convincing Leo of his inventions use and then you and Mikey who trailed behind in a conversation of your own.

You weren’t sure, but you thought the blue brother glanced at you twice.

Mikey regaled you on a video game he had recently beat and, by the time you entered the lab, Donnie was in full presentation mode. A space you had only been in virtually, Donnie walked everyone to where the buds were and tried them on Leo first since he was the naysayer. They proved to work nicely as you and Mikey played examples by moving around the lab to make noise for the technology to hone in on.

You remembered locations from your guided tour, but definition had been sparse over the phone. Now here and moving about, gadgets kept catching your eye. Donnie explained them with quips from his brothers about use or malfunction. You heard all manner of stories and saw a part of Donnie you had yet to see. Donnie was quick to hang up if his brothers tried to intervene, but he was no stranger to complaining about them. You felt like you knew them better than you did because of it, but seeing the brothers in action was something else entirely.

They carried through, soon fatiguing of reminiscing and giving space for Donnie to show off his more successful tech. He shined, putting his best foot forward in a way you assumed he prepared for investor meetings. He eventually let you examine his bo staff and demonstrated how it could be reformed within his ninpo. He was detailing how his schematics process had changed since acquiring his mystic powers when Leo suddenly yelled up to the ceiling.

“Nope! Beep, beep, beep! Hear that? That’s my brain at full capacity! No more! No more science for Leon! Honk-shoo! Bedtime alarm.” Leo threw his arms up and seemed ready to spin around to leave before he caught sight of you. “Great seeing you, by the way. We’ll be seeing you, but not again tonight! Later, losers!”

You all watched Leo walk out.

Mikey saw his own chance to pull away.

The youngest did nothing distinctly, but you could tell he was ready to head to bed himself.

You had been together for hours now and it was definitely the AM of the next day.

You needed to text your parents.

You needed to go home.

You’d see Donnie again.

You had one last time before you flew back across the country.

You got your phone in hand and messaged your parents to check in.

“Michael.” Donnie held his own anxiety.

That meant both remaining brothers were ready for you to go.

Having already proved to your parents you were alive, you moved to next pen a message about how you’d be home soon.

“Huh?” A bubble popped on Mikey’s attention.

“Have you checked the time?” Donnie moved away from you.

Looking up your screen found the time at 2:47am.

“Oh ho!” Mikey sang with scandalous purpose.

You paused and looked up to see him sporting a huge grin.

“I get what you’re putting down, brotha! It is the one and only reserved time for my most exclusive dish!” Mikey moved fluidly through a few poses.

“Yes.” Donnie looked pointedly at you. “You might have heard of it.”

You blinked a few times not realizing some kind of ploy was in motion. “Special time…?”

Sliding to the right, Mikey’s whole body dipped below his raised arms. “It is time for my unmatched, out of control, unparalleled 3am dump nachos!”

A memory slapped you across the hippocampus.

You did remember.

Mikey had sprung them on Donnie when he was helping you study for finals last year.

The Mikey of the present then snapped to attention in a business-like manner. “Proprietary reserved and guaranteed to eradicate night munchies.”

Your phone buzzed and beckoned with annoyed responses from your mom.

You’d thankfully never sent that message about heading back.

She knew you were doing alright, that was enough.

You closed your phone. “Who am I to say no to the clock!?”

“Nacho time!?” Mikey turned to confirm with the last party. “That was what you wanted, right?”

“Yes.” Donnie tried to stave off a certain amount of joy. “Nacho time.”

“Woo!” Mikey started to holler but caught himself off to whisper. “Quieter woo because people are sleeping!”

You all filed down to the kitchen where Mikey took point in commanding his own cooking show. Talking about all his past chip and cheese related mishaps, he walked through pantry staples and what wasn’t for good nachos. Donnie settled in by your side and eventually grabbed a few drinks. The pair of you mingled together, sharing little glances amongst Mikey’s display until the nachos were in the oven for a quick melt session.

“Oh man, this was a great idea.” Mikey looked at Donnie approvingly. “I can’t remember the last time we did 3am nachos.”

You did, but you kept quiet.

“Probably after April’s midnight launch at that movie theater.” There was an air to Donnie that said he was purposefully making something up.

“Eugh, was it one of those ones where they watch like six movies back to back?” Mikey made a face.

“Are those marathons bad?” You asked.

“They are when you can’t pause and do stuff like this.” Mikey gestured around the kitchen.

“Helps to be allowed an oven.” Donnie cocked a brow at you.

“It’s not my fault someone started a fire in the dorms a few years ago.” You shot a smarmy look back.

“Finesse.” Donnie’s fingers came up to floss the word.

“This again!” You rolled your eyes.

“The rules are in place to protect! As long as you don’t violate them obviously, then I don’t see the problem.”

“Your homemade oven thing was way sketchier!”

“You could make it out of all the materials you had on hand! It’s completely safe!”

“Just because one can, doesn’t mean one should!”

“Look! I can recreate it now! You never tried.” Donnie went for a junk drawing and came back with supplies. “The most you needed was wire, then a containment unit, easy enough to build…”

Donnie nearly pressed to your side as he cut and created a wire and then spliced it with a battery. Showing you how to then encase the coils, he asked for your help holding something in place. You did so and he eventually came around with electrical tape to bind his creation. He complained about how soldering should be allowed if hot glue guns were. You spoke against that point and your hands brushed. He scoffed at live flames and slipped his arm through yours in lieu of reaching for a piece of plastic that had rolled away. You pressed into him and told him that with that logic you could simply weld.

“Couldn’t you?” Donnie’s face was near yours.

“I’d need…” You reached up and his cheek tipped into your hand as you activated the release on his goggles as you’d seen him do on video.

His lenses came down and you were close enough to see through them to his eyes beneath.

“… something like this.”

“I see… Safety first…” Donnie murmured, leaning in.

“Mhm…” You mirrored him.

A timer dinged and you jolted apart.

“3am nachos!” Mikey came around with oven mitts as if oblivious. “After hearing both your arguments, I’m gonna go with no homebrewing ovens in the dorms. It looks like you’re building a bomb.” He set the tray down and the smell was undeniably delicious.

You might have enjoyed it more had your heart not been pounding out your ears.

“To the uneducated, perhaps!” Donnie grumbled and looked over the spread.

You moved to better reach and heard Mikey talk about the best constructed bite.

What were you doing?

You had almost kissed Donnie.

If that was what just happened.

Donnie.

You had a nacho in hand.

Donnie.

What you had to label as your newest best friend.

Donnie.

Not a replacement, but an embellishment.

Donnie.

Next to you, the man in question said something about guacamole.

He helped you through your semesters.

You still had 10 more after the current one.

Four total years.

That didn’t include masters which you aimed on getting.

On the other side of the states.

As far as possible in the continental US.

That was only the grand scale.

On a minor one, you’d be back there in only four days time.

You’d barely seen Donnie.

You’d also arguably spent more time with him in just seven months then you had lifetimes with some of the people you still happily called friends, but 90% of that time had been through an internet connection.

Donnie.

A chip entered your mouth and it tasted so good you wanted to weep.

It certainly wasn’t for any other reason.

Mikey’s cooking was that good.

Eating.

Eating was happening.

You tried to tune into what Donnie and Mikey were discussing.

Donnie had put his goggles back up on his head.

His eyes looked pretty as he talked to his brother.

They always seemed lazy in expression, but they caught so much.

They also took in nothing if he didn’t care to look.

He’d been looking at you.

Right through that red and blue glass.

The make-up of purple.

Mikey hummed an exhausted note. “Oh man… 5am already? Sun’s gonna be up soon…”

“That late?” Donnie asked absently.

At least your parents had gone to bed and wouldn’t hassle you.

They might because you were absolutely going to get home after they woke up for the day.

That was less than ideal.

You also had lunch plans.

What were you doing?

“I’m hitting the hay!” Mikey announced even though you were sure he’d said other things. “Hug for the road!”

Mikey hugged you and you were sure you hugged back.

“Finish those off or whatever. They don’t keep so toss ‘em! Night, D!”

“Night.” Donnie spoke.

Alone.

You were alone with Donnie.

You’d been avoiding this hadn’t you?

Both of you had.

“Still hungry?” Donnie spoke timidly.

“Sure.” You had barely had any.

You worked through building that perfect bite Mikey talked about and then went for some salsa Mikey had whipped up.

Donnie was right there with his own chip and your knuckles brushed.

You both froze and looked at each other.

You saw it all there.

The budding feelings.

The long distance.

The fear.

The longing.

“It’s too soon…?” Donnie broke away to look at the sheet pan. “Don’t you think?”

You did.

You know you did.

You were weepy as you nodded and ate more than necessary just because the taste helped abate the sadness.

Donnie offered to take you home in his own melancholy.

You’d barely experienced college.

You were so young.

In spite of knowing him so well, it wasn’t enough.

When he pulled over on the empty morning curb outside your apartment, sunlight was peering in on your exchange.

What would you do?

How would you say goodbye?

“Walk me to the door?” You asked.

“Of course.” He put the van into park and turned it off.

You walked side by side in silence up the stoop.

The moment you were both on the same level, you hugged him. Hard into his middle you squeezed him for all he was worth. Not to be outshined, you were similarly scooped. Donnie created a protective outer layer where his face buried down into the top of your head. You both siphoned as much of each other off as you could feeling like it would be the last.

Was that right?

It didn’t feel like it, but for right now it was hard to parse anything.

It was exciting to be close to him.

You hadn’t known when he offered to give you a ride that you’d tackle him right out of your airport gate.

You’d never hugged before that.

You’d never touched at all as far as you could remember.

All of this was sudden.

Too soon.

You rooted your face into Donnie’s plastron. “I’ll still see you Friday?”

“You’ll see me tomorrow if available.”

You blinked up wide right out of his chest.

“You’re on break. I want to make the most of it.”

This time you threw your arms around his neck and he hoisted you up into the hug. You laughed into it until he set you back down and your heads bumped together. Sting moving to cradle, you lingered against one another. You felt more then, how you were rushing. You were jumping to conclusions. You were deciding years down the line before being present in your own moment.

Too soon.

“Dinner.”

“It’s a date.”

You entered your apartment on a cloud nine bubble that even your parents couldn’t pop. It prevailed through your mother’s nagging and you finally catching blissful shut eye. You barely made your lunch appointment with your friend and were disheveled for it. They laughed at you and joked about a rough night. The unsuspecting victim who just happened to ask the wrong question at the right time, you unloaded on them. Not usually the type of friend for long talks, they took it in stride and came out like an MVP.

They gave you advice on how to proceed and shared how they themselves were doing long distance.

It wasn’t for everyone.

You were young.

You needed to prioritize you.

There was also a certain amount of trusting your gut.

All a tricky balance, you came away feeling optimistic and closer to your friend than before.

You also crashed as soon as you got home and had a screaming match with your mom when she returned from work to find you in bed. It was enhanced by you not telling her about your dinner plans, but it all felt like a certain amount of stride. It was par for the course with growing pains of your adulthood and you got yourself gussied up amongst it. Donnie came to get you and you felt whisked away where your dad sent you off in good humor.

You wished he fielded your mom, but you guessed you could only ask so much.

Your date was a romantic one. Dictated by closeness, you counted in touch. There were brushes to the hands that morphed to holds. He’d pressed your back to indicate he wanted to pull your chair out and would eventually pull you to his side when some drunk adults stormed by on the sidewalk. You snuggled close to him during a concession selection and later would rest your head on his shoulder during a movie. Afterwards when you lingered for a walk in twinkling night lights you spoke your feelings into reality and what to do.

You’d wait.

It was too soon.

There was so much more to see.

You didn’t feel sad about anything other than not being able to kiss him when he brought you home.

Those hugs were hard enough to break apart from.

Friday then came and went and this time you felt fully present amongst the Hamato. Sunita and Casey joined for a rowdy bunch and you felt strong enough to take over the entire city. You also were always placed by Donnie’s side whether it be by both your conscious choices or simply your draw to one another which earned some ire. Unlike the last hang out, you were validated and both breezily brushed it off with knowing smiles. That brought more confusion, but any and all were left guessing what your relationship was.

Your family and a huge friend group hangout took Saturday.

Then you packed with Donnie on a video call.

It was just like a week ago, but wholly new.

You wished him a somber goodnight and right before hanging up he asked to drop you off.

You would have to fend off your parents, but you decided you could oblige.

There was little complaint as the next morning your mom asked you point blank who the boy was. You admitted to them the events of the last seven months, mutation and all, which they took in various stages. What your dad heard mostly was your loneliness and how this guy had gone above and beyond to make you feel less so. That was enough for him and in a stern decision, he refused to be moved. It left your mom high and dry outside the marriage unit and she eventually sighed to dreamily say that was why she loved your father.

Comparisons were then made between them and your relationship with Donnie and you shut that down as quickly as you could.

Donnie was then there and in an impromptu parents meeting.

He was surprisingly adept at it and you had a feeling he was aware this would happen. You ended up drilling him on the way to the airport where he admitted he prepared for at least seven possible scenarios regarding him butting in on the airport drop off. He regaled you in them all until you were sick of his preparations and you were at the airport.

He walked you as far as he could.

You hugged.

It should have been scented with desperation, you thought.

Instead, it felt like a promise.

With the same clingy digging, he gave equal pressure to your waist as you gave his head. He clawed your back and you pulled at his mask tails. It caught puffs of laughter from both of you as you drank each other in. You knew his scent now, a specific one you wished to curl up in. You’d remember prolonging time together even when you talked to him on the phone, presumably as soon as you landed. You’d be exhausted and want to shower, but you’d make time. You liked to give it just as he’d do the same.

You parted.

With smiles that were plump with tears unshed, you waved to him and he lingered as long as he could. You thought he even might have continued past that and used his goggles for some x-ray business. In case he did, you metered your steps and kept looking back to send him more grins to log. He probably had a thousand already from the calls or even this week, but you’d give more. You boarded a plane and spring break ended.

Across the country you flew.

Back to school.

Back to work.

Through summer and an internship.

Opportunity and papers.

Talk of job and studies galore.

Late night calls and walls of text.

A flurry of messages.

Arguments.

Cold shoulders.

Apologies.

Fall Semester.

Winter break.

Spring Semester.

Spring break.

Rinse and repeat.

Donnie became your only airport ride. No matter when you came, everyone knew he was designated. It became common knowledge as much as anything else. As much as your friendship, everyone knew that was to be expected.

You grew.

Four years passed.

You found yourself yet again coming into LaGuardia on the cusp of spring. You had plans for furthering education on this side of the country. California had been nice, but Donnie had mentioned a study once that stuck with you. Eight in ten adults lived within 100 miles of where they grew up. It seemed like such a silly statistic four years ago when you’d made your college choice. You weren’t sure if you necessarily understood now, but there was a certain comfort in knowing you’d be in New York for the foreseeable future.

It helped that you grew up in such an amazing city.

What a town, Donnie would say reverent regardless of whether it was bad or good.

Shouldering your bag, you walked out to baggage claim. While the spot may have changed and the man was still growing like a weed, Donnie would still always appear to you between crowd waves. A sort of fate, he’d part pedestrians like the sea and he looked up from where he was tinkering with something on his gauntlet.

A smile spread on his face and he was in motion.

You had to keep up.

A hop and a skip and you collided in a spin. Twirling out for the sake of it, you both murmured affections until he rooted your face out from his shoulder. There he dipped you first for the sake of flair, but brought you up to properly execute what came next.

Your hands tucked behind his neck.

He locked his arms around your waist.

His gaze poured over you.

You tugged him lightly as he was taking his time.

He was hovering, no doubt committing all of this to memory.

You didn’t fault him; you had started dating a few weeks ago.

He’d blurted out the question saying he was unable to wait until spring break or even until you graduated with your undergrad.

You were long past first kiss territory, but this would be the first with the label.

“Donatello.”

“Not to be confused with the famous Italian sculptor.” He staunchly said the same thing he had since the moment he’d first introduced himself.

“Please.”

“Please what?” He jeered.

“Kiss me, dum-dum.” You pulled him as hard as he’d allow and he snuck in a laugh before your lips met.

You would always appreciate this time of year for its change.

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adrinktostopyourthirst · 5 months

Text

Bucky Barnes | Series | Loose

Part two of the Rebellion Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: You and Bucky have no idea whether you can trust each other. There is an understanding, but you're not sure of what that understanding is and why it seems to run so deep.

Warning: Angst, violence and fluff (?)

Words: 4,1OO

It is hard enough already for Bucky to fall asleep at night. Yes, it has gotten better in recent years, but there will always be that part of him – awake and aware – that registers every sound and movement, even when he should be knocked out. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that part of him sat more alert ever since you had joined the building. Perhaps because Bucky still wasn’t so confident in your allegiance.

He can’t stop overthinking it. He has seen what you’re capable of. Would you be capable of even more if people cornered you? If you felt like you had no other choice but to manipulate and kill your way out? After all, wasn’t it possible that you felt like you had moved from one prison to the next?

You’d been a delight at dinner two nights ago, but Bucky can’t turn off his brain. This is the part that made you win people over. The way you’d gotten along with Natasha like a house on fire, the way you’d shared stories like you and his team had been friends all along… Yet you had no trouble letting a side of yours slip through the cracks that tantalised Bucky beyond belief. The way you had looked at him, teased him–

The faintest rustle has Bucky shooting back to his current place in time. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He holds his breath in an effort to hear better.

Nothing.

However, something doesn’t sit right. Something is off. He’d learned that hypervigilance was a side effect of his trauma, but he had a hard time believing his intuition would betray him like that. Not when he had relied on it so successfully for years.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he whispers to the dark ceiling.

“Yes, sergeant Barnes?”

“Is everyone in their respectable rooms?” he tries.

“I cannot divulge that information,” the voice sounds and Bucky sighs. He musters up some strength and swings off his duvet before climbing out of bed.

Yeah, he doesn’t trust you for a second.

…

Your heart is pounding in your throat. This isn’t part of your skillset – the escape and combat. Though perhaps if you do the former correctly, you won’t have to resort to the latter. Escaping the compound had been surprisingly easy, which strangely made your chest hurt. It was way too easy to escape. But it made sense. Steve had told you that you weren’t being held captive and you being here was all in good faith.

Faith you just broke by making your escape.

You probably should have been more patient. Winning their trust a bit more and then making an escape, make sure they really don’t see it coming. But the dinner had made you antsy and impatient. You had to get out.

If you’re entirely honest with yourself, you know that getting attached to a new group of people and deciding to escape then – or worse, leading them into their demise later – would be worse than getting away now that no one has attached themselves to you. Or you to them…

Breaching the edge of the surrounding forest, you finally let go of the breath you’ve been holding. You did it. Out of sight, out of mind. You’re free. No more captivity, no more expectations. All you need to do now is leave the country, change your name and possibly dye your hair. Sounds easy enough. A bit dramatic, but not impossible.

That is, until you get dragged backwards by a hand over your mouth and you lose your footing. The hard body behind you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the muddy forest grounds. Your breathing is ragged as your hands both fly to grab the forearm attached to the hand covering your yelp.

The metal forearm.

“Rule number one of making your escape: never assume you’re in the clear,” Bucky’s voice rumbles through the night air, his mouth so very close to your ear. “Shouldn’t have dropped your guard when you reached the edge of the forest.”

His gloved hand removes itself from your mouth, but you know better than to make a run for it, or to scream. He twists you by your shoulders and you muster some playful guilt to your face, masking your disappointment. Disappointment… but you feel strangely relieved. Maybe the largeness of finally being free felt somewhat overwhelming. Move to another country and change your name? It’s ridiculous. And that, when the people here have been so patient and kind to you…

You let out a soft laugh, “Worth a shot, no?”

Bucky studies you intently and something in your gut stirs at it. Not even Natasha seems to have as good of a read on you as Bucky does. It makes you feel naked. Makes you feel like all of your carefully crafted plans are flimsy and no good. Makes you feel like you have to stay far, far away from Bucky. Like you need to run. Now.

And how the hell did he manage to figure out you were making your escape?

You wait for him to tell you off, preach against your indolence and call in backup to shove you into something more similar to a prison cell. But Bucky sighs, disappointed and tired.

He seems so, so tired.

“Let’s go back inside,” he says and you furrow your brows at him.

His defeat has your chest clenching tightly. You want him to punish you, scold you. At least show that he cares. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe you need to know that the relief you felt from being caught is somewhat mutual in a sense. That the people here don’t just see you as a weapon, despite the burden, but that you’re someone worth saving. Worth keeping around.

Worth healing.

“That’s it?” you ask. “No scolding or punishment?”

Bucky scoffs humourlessly. “You get a kick out of punishment, darling?”

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.”

“I’m not your fucking baby sitter,” he mutters and starts walking back to the building, rightfully assuming you’ll follow. “If you want, I can ask Steve to tell you off in the morning. He’s better at that sort of thing anyway.”

Some pathetic part of you wants to sulk at his response like an ill-tempered child. “Then why come after me?”

It stays quiet for a second as you cross the field towards the compound. “I couldn’t let a poor escape plan be successful.”

You can’t help but snort at that answer and decide that fine, you’d play along for now. But you wonder if the curious Bucky you’d seen a few days ago had completely vanished since that dinner.

…

The next morning, Bucky gets cornered by you after breakfast. He looks down his nose at your defiant face.

“You didn’t tell anyone about last night?” you ask him and he raises his brows, unimpressed.

It had surprised you that no one at breakfast mentioned anything or gave you even so much as a dirty look. Clearly, none of them are aware that you tried to make your escape last night. And you cannot for the life of you figure out why Bucky is taking it easy on you. Is he smart enough to assume that your own guilt will do more damage than he ever could? Is this part of some bigger scheme of his? Perhaps he is actually as tired and unbothered as he looked when you saw him in those woods.

“What happened last night?” he asks with a telling smirk. The current look on your face is worth the lack of sleep he had tonight. It’s too easy to rattle you. You roll your eyes and Bucky smirks even wider at that. Is he… flirting?

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you try again.

Bucky remains quiet and fights to keep a straight face. He did expect your question, but why didn’t he tell anyone? Because he thought you and him would get along after those tiny moments during that first dinner? Because the team would have let you walk away? Because Bucky doesn’t want you to go… Because he thinks he can help. Help the world. Help you. He thinks he can help you. And you can help him. And–

“Want me to tell them now?” he says instead.

He barely notices the flash of panic in your eyes before you cover it with an annoyed scoff and turn on your heel to walk away. He watches you. Every step until you are out of sight.

“You said she trusts you,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind him and Bucky schools his face back to bland interest before he turns to Steve. “That doesn’t look like she trusts you.”

“It’s a work in progress.”

Steve frowns pensively. “Well, speed up the process. We have an important mission and we need her for it.”

“What?” Bucky almost loses his restraint, his body flaring in alarm. “Steve, she hasn’t had any training. She was locked up for months. It’s too big of a risk–”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, Buck,” Steve tells him regretfully, but instantly notices that Bucky isn’t buying it. “This is the thing we needed her for.”

“She isn’t some kind of weapon!” Bucky exclaims and he notices Natasha turning away from her conversation in the nearest common room to see what the commotion is about. He gives her a warning look, then lowers his voice. “Steve. This could’ve been me,” Bucky breathes. And there it is. Recognition flickers in Steve’s eyes. “We can’t use her like this. She’s all alone.”

Steve looks past Bucky’s shoulder as if you’re still walking away from him. Angry frown, uptilted chin and swaying hips– Bucky almost looks. Then Steve sighs and looks back at his friend. “Take all the time you need. If she’s ready, I’ll explain the mission to her. I think she might want to help.”

…

Bucky reads over the file until his eyes turn bleary. Steve was right, you will want to help.

He thinks you can handle it, but… what if you encounter a trigger on the way? What if it all becomes too much? Bucky realises he isn’t nearly close enough to care this much, and he doesn’t, but who else but him is going to care whether you live or die? Sometimes Bucky wonders if even you care whether you live or die. What would have happened to Bucky if everyone had given up on him? He knows damn well that he’d be long dead if not so many people found him useful.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bucky never had a choice. So he finds himself knocking at your door at 10pm with the file in hand.

After opening the door, you barely manage to get a word out before Bucky extends the folder towards you. “Steve needs your help on this. It should be fine, but the choice is up to you.”

Quick. Brief. He’s just the messenger and the decision is all yours. Bucky turns and makes to walk away – before you can spot all of the thoughts crossing his mind – but your voice stops him.

“Will you be there?”

The question takes him by surprise. Turning back towards you and slowly walking to the doorframe you’re standing under, he creases his brows together. “You need me to come along?”

You shrug abashedly. “Will you?”

Bucky studies your face intently. “Yes,” he lies. He’ll figure something out with Steve.

“What if I can’t do what you need me to do?” There it is again. He doesn’t get why this vulnerable side of you keeps surprising him so much.

“You’ll be useful,” are his terrible words of comfort. He wants to palm himself in the face.

The suppressed smile you give him heats his face and he’s sure you’ll call him out on his horrible people skills, but you stay quiet. The silence grows and grows and Bucky starts to shift nonchalantly, wondering if he should walk off and let you read the file in private.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“You’re coming?”

“Yes,” you affirm and look up at him, handing the file back. “Do you not want me to go?”

“It’s your choice,” he tells you and gently takes the folder.

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Some wall snaps up inside of him at that tone – at that hopeful look in your eyes. “You could use the mission to make your escape,” he says with a shrug and makes to turn away from you again. “I won’t stop you this time.”

He walks away, leaving you to gape at his retreating form.

…

The mission was simple enough.

Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you would be attending a gala. Supposedly, there is a certain divide between the guests in attendance. Your job is mainly to feel out just who will be willing to join your cause. What goes unsaid is that you’re also required to butter them up to spring into action when your team would deem it necessary.

The party is in full swing and everyone is finally losing their mask of formality and enjoying their evening. You just hit the sweet spot of their susceptibility and you sweep into casual conversation about politics. Seeing who keeps quiet, who isn’t scared to speak up, whose faces harden at the prospect of change, etcetera. All of your antennas are on and when you know people have stopped paying attention to you, that’s when you dare a glance across the room where you know Bucky is standing.

All dapper and handsome, wearing a very expensive suit.

All of you have taken thorough action to look exceptional and to blend in perfectly with the high class crowd. Being charming is easy enough, looking it was a necessity – yet, all of it does still feel very far removed from yourself. Like a betrayal to the woman who was locked up mere weeks ago. However, being a true professional, you don’t allow your thoughts to linger too much and channel back to the matter at hand.

Then you feel it.

The searing heat that starts at your legs and spreads all the way up to your chest and cheeks. Like a virus burning over your skin. And you know what it is – know who it is. So you look back in the direction of Bucky, if only to catch him in the act.

But he’s unbothered. Brooding and observing from the bar in the shadow of the room, somehow alone and undiscovered by most of the crowd (a skill you assume he has acquired over the years). And his eyes are still on you. They glide down and back up for even more emphasis and you swallow away the dryness in your throat.

Gliding a sensual hand over the arm of the man next to you, you excuse yourself with a warm smile and slowly stride over to the culprit. Bucky waits patiently, and you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you walk over. He hands you a spare glass of champagne and turns his back to the room when you’re close enough to hear him.

“It’s working,” he says and you swear he sounds slightly impressed.

“Did you assume I’d fuck up?” you taunt and lean over the bar, sipping at the glass flute between your fingers. Bucky turns to you and his eyes sweep over the curve of your partly exposed back, the hollow of your spine and the curve of your ass. Then he holds his breath for a moment.

“Wouldn’t be mad if you did,” he tells you and his tone sounds gentle. You know that’s why he’s here, even though neither of you said it out loud, you know he’s here to stick up for you if you can’t get it done yet. If you’re not ready to be that person again.

Just like he probably knows that you’re here because the guilt of trying to escape from your saviours was eating you alive. And you didn’t want to prove Bucky right by escaping. You had glanced at the exits a few times and debated it, yes, but then looked at your team and thought against it. Looked at Bucky and–

“We’ll leave in five minutes,” Bucky murmurs as he finishes his glass. “I noted down all the people you signed as potential allies and who definitely isn’t.”

“There’s a few we can convince to help,” you cut in.

“What? The woman who runs that capitalist shitshow?” Bucky frowns. “Nah, she’s only motivated by money.”

You smile at him knowingly. “Money is a great motivator and our movement could benefit her greatly, so you just have to nudge her in the right direction.”

Bucky studies your face then and you might have found it less penetrating when he looked at your body with that stare. That intrigue. “And you already have a plan to tip her over to our side,” he concludes.

“You chose me for this for a reason, did you not?” you ask.

His eyes drop to your mouth. “I like a woman who takes her job seriously.”

You have no idea where that came from, but decide to go along with it anyway. You smirk and empty your flute, gently setting it down on the bar after. “Here I was, thinking you didn’t like anyone,” you purr and saunter off to find your other teammates and round up today’s mission.

You turn around when you hear Bucky yelling out your name, but then the room spins and debris flies everywhere. You’d cry out if the wind didn’t whoosh from your body and your ears don’t hollow out. You want to voice your discovery, as futile as it is, but the scream dies in your throat.

Someone just blew up the building.

…

It feels like there’s ash in your mouth. And throat. Your body bleats in pain, but nothing too severely. Maybe you’re in shock. Maybe you can’t feel a limb that’s no longer there. Maybe–

The room is dark except for an orange hue that travels over the ceiling and walls every few seconds. You’re slumped in a velvet chair and your fingers pluck softly at the fabric. One by one, your senses weave together and you hear the soft sounds of someone working on something. Paper ruffling, some gentle work, someone who’s trying to be quiet. You rasp in a raw breath and see a shadow at the bottom of your vision. But your body is relaxed. Or… Well, as relaxed as it can be.

There was an explosion.

“Have some water,” Bucky offers from his kneeling position between your legs and nudges his chin to the glass at the small table next to your chair. His voice is soft, raw. And when you squint at him while you blindly reach for the glass, you see soot on his face, dust on his suit.

“Are you alright?” you ask and your voice reminds you to take the drink. The water feels like heaven in your throat and you nearly gulp down the whole glass.

Bucky pauses at your question and surely he didn’t expect that to be your first question. “I’m fine,” he grumbles and focuses on the task at hand. Which, you quickly realise, is cleaning up the wound on your thigh.

Next to him, there’s a small container with small shards of glass in there and a used pair of tweezers. You feel the prickle of the wound at your thigh and observe closely as he presses some gauze to the puncture wounds. His hands are firm and steady as he wraps a bandage around your thigh to secure the gauze. His calluses scrape against your soft skin and you almost swear he takes more time than he should securing the bandage.

You heave a deep sigh and straighten up in the chair. “Natasha and Sam?”

“Natasha was sent to hunt down the ones responsible and needed an aerial patrol, so she took Sam.” Bucky clenches his jaw and you have a feeling it took some convincing to get Bucky to not go after the bastards himself, to let Natasha handle it instead. “There were deaths, lots of wounded.”

You flinch at that.

Bucky notices it. The glaze over your eyes and the tightening of your fingers into the soft fabric of the chair. He barely allows himself to hesitate and he covers your left hand with his right one, taking your fingers and stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “We got out as many as we could, no one saw the explosion coming,” he explains and hopes the information brings you some peace. He’s desperate to take that haunted look off your face, but doesn’t know how.

He gives you time then. Allows you to sort through your memories and shush them. He strokes his thumb gently and squeezes your fingers every once in a while to anchor you to here, to being safe. Your breaths go from shallow to deep as they slow. He hears your heartbeat steady and watches clarity fill your eyes again.

Fuck him. Those eyes.

“Tomorrow, we go over your list and see what we can do. Let’s get some rest for now.” He pushes to a stand and moves to remove his hand from yours, but you hold onto him.

“I’m sorry for trying to escape,” you rasp and Bucky tenses at that. He did not expect that confession. Didn’t expect an apology either – he didn’t think one was warranted.

You slowly push to a stand and Bucky’s heartbeat spikes as you wobble on your legs before you steady yourself. His eyes search your face frantically and he tries not to linger at your lips for too long. You gently stroke a hand down his arm before brushing past him in thanks, and Bucky has to take a deep breath. A flash of you doing the same thing to one of tonight’s guests comes to him and jealousy hits him, a little too viciously. Just like it did when he saw it earlier tonight.

He turns around and watches as you walk up the small bag he packed for an instance like this. You pull out some clothes and Bucky shamelessly stares while you do it. He almost sighs as the sight of that orange hue travelling over your form, most of the sleek dress still intact and definitely still doing its job of making you look good enough to eat.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” he blurts. But he stands still as he watches you freeze. You slowly turn to him and tilt your head at him curiously.

Then, a slow smirk spreads over your face and your brows raise playfully. Bucky frowns as he tries to read the expression on your face, even if the lightness of it makes him want to drop to his knees in relief. This is much, much better than that haunted look that was there mere minutes ago.

Until one of your hands lifts from the bag, a small scrap of lace dangling from your fingers. “I am never letting you pack our getaway bag again.”

Bucky matches your smirk and strides over to you, close enough that you have to tip your chin up to maintain eye contact. “You can choose not to wear it,” he shrugs and the nonchalant gesture makes your legs weak. Slowly, he starts unbuttoning his own pants and shirt, stripping himself of his clothes and tempting you to break that eye contact. “But we’re sharing a bed, so you decide what is less tempting for me to look at.”

It takes everything inside of you not to balk at this… flirtation. But it’s nice – so fucking nice to deflate that balloon of tension after a mission like the one you had tonight. To have banter and humour and perhaps a little friendship.

“I better not catch you looking at all,” you snipe, but have a hard time keeping the smile off your face.

Bucky smiles too then and gives you a wink powerful enough to set your clothes aflame. “Too bad. You can’t ask that of me and look like that.”

That does render you a bit speechless and Bucky takes his win as he strips himself to his boxers. Climbing under the sheets, Bucky’s powerful body shifts and ripples with movement.

This is going to be a long night.

#ok this is NOT worth the wait #but its here which is a HUGE win for me #i hope you like it #not me being way too impatient to write a slow burn #the upcoming smut better be good too #pls tell me what u think i have obviouslty not forgotten about you guys #<3 #rebellion series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #writing #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #oneshot #series

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teddypickerry · 2 months

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Patching jess Mariano up after a fight and trying to get him to tell you what happened but he’s too busy flirting and being evasive so he doesn’t tell you what happened (some guy was talking bad about you) 🤭

𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

pairings — jess mariano x fem! gilmore reader

word count — 2.0k

warnings — none fluffy friends with a crush on eachother <3

a/n — the boys… troy… TROY IS BACK IN TOWN!!!! I THINK I’M OUT, BUT YOU PULL ME BACK IN. YOU GUYS KEEP PULLING ME BACK IN. after almost a year (maybe over, i failed the time management thing) I’M BACK TO TUMBLR FICS!!!! although i did make y/n have a name cause i cannot read or write y/n anymore… is that maturity 😏? anyways. i’m really not a fan of this… like, at all. but i wanted to feed you bitches after starving you for so long. and the jess fics on here? are… well…

THE UPSTAIRS BATHROOM in the Gilmore household wasn't particularly small. But with how close the two somewhat friends were sitting, it seemed miniscule. The CD player hummed a Def Leppard album from Alexa's bedroom. Her free hand cupped Jess's jaw. He was dripping blood into the sink, hunching over the counter like he was in his first trimester. The moment he glanced up in the mirror, he was met with a sight worse than Terrifier.

Alexa entered the bathroom once more, a warm washcloth in her hand as she stopped at the doorway. The teenage boy turned her way with a not-so-subtle speed. The two hardly shared a word since they arrived at her house a brief few minutes ago. The fight came out of nowhere and she couldn't understand why he'd done it. Noel was a boy they'd gone to school with for a while, a boy who hadn't given Alexa the best time since her arrival. One of the few things she'd learned of the football player was that he was a good fighter - established in Jess's bruises. "Turn, please." The girl mumbled until he obliged. His back pressed against the counter with his arms crossing. He looked down at the brunette who had a softened look on her face while examining him.

The warm washcloth pressed against the cut crossing his cheek. Jess nearly wincing at the feeling, deciding he'd rather suck it up than seem pathetic to her. Alexa noticed his act immediately and shook her head. There was an elephant in the room... on the towel Lorelai found at Goodwill. She laughed for five minutes when she found it. But there was another elephant in the room, and it wasn't literal.

The teenager worked with the hum of Def Leppard in the background. Jess didn't dare speak a word as the girl pressed her hand to his injured skin. It was almost like it was all worth it just to be tended to by her tender hands. Which simply embarrassed him.

A bandaid covered the final now clean cut. That was as much as Alexa could do with her lack of doctoring abilities. "That was stupid, Jess." Alexa broke the silence without stepping away from the boy. Their faces nearly pressed together as he simply watched her. "You could have seriously got hurt. I mean look what you did to him. He's probably got just... hurt really bad, okay? I don't know exactly why you did it... but..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed the small smile on his lip. It curved sideways as they all tended to do, which she'd always found to be something sort of cute.

"Why are you smiling?" Alexa frowned at the sight as Jess tilted his head at her slightly, his smile still present. "Just am." He shrugged simply with his dark eyes still locked on hers. He seemed devious — he seemed like he was up to something, or there was something on his mind. Not anything he'd let Alexa figure out. "Jess..."

"Fuck him. Just don't be around him anymore, please." His final word came off as a whisper as if begging the waitress to keep her fair distance from the jock. She didn't know the reasoning behind the fight, but his words started to imply the truth. Had it been for her?

It was when she glanced back up at him that she saw something different inside Jess. She couldn't quite pinpoint what at that moment, but there was a type of serotonin inside of him that she desired. His eyes glanced down at her slightly chapped lips which only looked like the most desirable thing in the room. She noticed this quickly, feeling her heart race at the thought. Alexa had no idea if she'd kiss him back if he followed through with the mission. But the thought wasn't all so bad...

If only she had the chance to find out, with their near connection interrupted by the sound of the front door. Alexa huffed and bit down on her bottom lip. "Lexie, Exie-Doo, where are you?" Lorelai practically sang throughout the house. The girl faced Jess and ushered him into her bedroom, making her way down the stairs alone. She was taken in by the sight of her Aunt, Cousin, and Pure-Evil (Sir. Christopher Hayden) dressed head to toe in something favoring Bridgerton. Her Aunt had a relieved look when she noticed her niece, walking toward her immediately. "Lexie! God, sweetie, we went to Luke's but there was this huge crowd like they were having some seance-" The inn owner seemed to panic at the recollection of events. "-And Luke said there was a fight and Jess was probably with you and- are you okay?"

Alexa pushed her hair behind her ear as she sighed. "I'm okay. Um..." Her voice trailed off as her cousin spoke up, making her way towards Alexa. "What happened?"

"I don't know... Jess... he..." Alexa shrugged before running a hand through her hair. She turned towards her Aunt. "Remember that trust thing we're working on? Well, he's in my bedroom right now. So don't fret. Just trust. Because he just took some Fight Club type hits, okay?"

"Alex-" Lorelai started as her niece cut her off quickly. "No, just. Can he hang out for awhile please? I know Luke's gonna be pissed and there's gonna be a million people at the diner trying to find Jess for like the rest of the night. He just-" She shut her mouth for a minute as her Aunt watched her intently. "He's my… friend, Lor. And he's dripping blood."

It was as if Lorelai Gilmore's life flashed before her eyes as she sighed and wrapped her arms around her niece. "Okay, Lexie. I trust you. Please don't be like any of the babysitters in the horror films getting it on, on the couch— that's your bed because you don't have a couch in your room so-"

"Your prince awaits you," Rory cuts off her mother as she ushers Alexa out of her arms. Lorelai nodded along as Alexa left the room. Leaving a family of three — that hardly could be considered one, to themselves. Especially leaving Lorelai Gilmore hoping she put her trust in the right place.

When Alexa made her way back upstairs, she found the bookworm skimming through her stack of vinyl records. Alice Cooper's 'Hey Stoopid' in his arms. "Good record," The girl announced as she cracked the door behind her. Jess glanced over at her with a smirk that could kill. "You only like it because Nikki Sixx did bass on Feed My Frankenstein."

The brunette jokingly shrugged her shoulders before taking a seat on her bed. Her back pressed against the tie-dyed pillow she received from Lane Kim for her birthday months ago. Her eyes watched the boy whose eyes were trapped on her own. It was mad to her how good he looked with a crimson tint to his cheeks. She also knew he'd get shit at school on Monday from just about everyone. Stars Hollow is an especially small town if you haven't figured that out by now. The news of the fight would reign the town within the hour. Hell, Babette was probably already running around telling everyone.

"Where are you from?" Alexa asked suddenly, as 'Rock of Ages' hummed in the background. Jess placed the record back on top of the collection. He shrugged. "Lots of places..." He answered in this typical uninterested tone until he remembered exactly who he was talking to. "New York, though." Jess finally answered as he took a seat at the end of her bed, his body slightly turned towards hers. "Hm, I've got some wild New York stories."

Jess almost smiled at her words as he pressed his back to her wall, now able to fully see the girl at her headboard. "With sewer rats and subway psychos?" He hummed in humor making Alexa shoot him a smile. His eyes lit up at this and he could almost forget the pain resting on his face and his knuckles... almost.

"Where are you from, you're not a Stars Hollower I know," Jess asked the girl making her giggle at the thought. "'Hollower' really? God- um, well if you can't tell from my accent, I grew up in Newport."

"You don't fit California." He commented with ease as Alexa nodded in agreeance. Alexa Gilmore wasn't made for a life by the sea. Surrounded by riches feigning kindness. "You're right I definitely fit this hellhole even more." She joked making Jess shoot her his suddenly infamous crooked grin.

A comfortable silence fell between the two as Jess studied the girl's room. Posters filled the walls with random bands and various tv shows. Her vanity was lined with pictures of people and places. The sound of Lorelai coming upstairs and going into the bathroom echoed throughout the upstairs, making Jess sigh. He was drop-kicked back into reality. The diner boy stood up and reached for the window he'd grown accustomed of climbing out of.

"Jess," Alexa called, catching his attention. "Can't leave Lukey alone too long — he might die," He mumbled with a slight smirk as Alexa shook her head at her. She stared at him silently before huffing. "Can you stay for a little bit longer... please? I'll talk to Luke."

"Don't think I'm very welcome." The brunette boy told her with the sound of Lorelai entering her bedroom in the background. The girl batted her eyelashes without attempt, making Jess's thoughts turn curious. "But... I know you'll miss me so much." He hummed as he jumped on the bed, this time sitting beside the girl. She smiled at him while shoving his head playfully with her hand. "In your dreams, Mariano."

"You always are."

#jess mariano x fem reader #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano x reader #teddypickerry #gilmore girls #jess mariano #gilmore girls fic #jess mariano x you #jess mariano blurb #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore

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coochiequeens · 10 months

Text

A 22 year old woman who was about to graduate with a degree in engineering is now dead because her ex couldn't accept that the relationship was over.

Gino Cecchettin, hugging his daughter Elena, attends a torchlit procession in Vigonovo, near Venice, northern Italy, Sunday, Nov. 19, 2023, after the police found the body of his other daughter Giulia, reportedly with multiple stab wounds and wrapped in plastic on Saturday in a ditch near Venice. Police in Germany over the weekend arrested Filippo Turetta, 21, who had been on the run since Nov. 11, when he was last seen arguing with Giulia Cecchettin. (Lucrezia Granzetti/LaPresse via AP)

The Associated Press

ROME -- Italy has erupted in outrage over the death of a young woman, allegedly at the hands of her possessive ex-boyfriend, with the Italian premier vowing to crack down further on gender-based violence that has claimed the lives of more than 50 women so far this year.

Police in Germany over the weekend arrested Filippo Turetta, who had been on the run since Nov. 11, when he was last seen fighting with 22-year-old Giulia Cecchettin, hitting her in a physical attack that was captured by roadside video cameras.

Cecchettin's body, reportedly with multiple stab wounds, was found wrapped in plastic on Saturday in a ditch near Lake Barcis, in the province of Pordenone north of Venice.

Italian newspapers had been consumed with the search for them both, given multiple reports from friends and family that Turetta had refused to accept Cecchettin's decision to end the relationship. Cecchettin’s sister, Elena, said she had been concerned about Turetta’s possessiveness of her sister but never imagined he could hurt her.

Police in the eastern German city of Halle said Sunday that they had detained a 21-year-old Italian man who was wanted by police in Italy after his car broke down on the A9 highway in the south of the eastern state of Saxony-Anhalt.

Italian news reports said police road cameras had traced Turetta’s black Fiat Punto as he drove on mountain roads through northern Italy, into Austria and then Germany.

Italian state-run radio network RAI said Turetta had agreed to be extradited, and Italian Foreign Minister Antonio Tajani said he was expected back in Italy within days. Venice's chief prosecutor, Bruno Cherchi, suggested Monday it might take longer and urged patience so the investigation can complete its course without external pressure.

The fate of Cecchettin, who had been due to graduate university Thursday with a degree in engineering, had dominated news reports for a week and led to an outpouring of anger when her body was finally found. Even Turetta's parents attended a candlelit vigil for her, and RAI led its main evening news program Sunday with a backdrop made up of portraits of all the women killed in Italy this year.

Premier Giorgia Melon i expressed outrage at Italy’s long history of violence against women by their partners or ex-partners, saying it has appeared to be getting worse recently. She cited data from the Interior Ministry saying of the 102 women killed in Italy this year up to Nov. 12, 53 died at the hands of their partners or former partners.

“Every single woman killed because she is ‘guilty’ of being free is an aberration that cannot be tolerated and that drives me to continue on the path taken to stop this barbarity,” she said in a statement on social media.

A government-backed bill that has already passed the lower Chamber of Deputies and is coming to the Senate later this month would boost preventative measures to protect victims of gender-based violence.

In addition, the Interior Ministry urged all schools to hold a minute of silence on Tuesday in honor of Cecchettin “and all abused women and victims of violence.” An organization of Italian university rectors, meanwhile, vowed to launch initiatives to make students more aware of gender-based violence.

The aim, the group said, was to “promote respect of the person and halt violence against women” through education that fosters a culture of respect and responsibility.

#italy #Femicide #A woman is most in danger after leaving a bad relationship #102 women in Italy were killed in 2023 so far #Rest In Peace Giulia Cecchettin #Men can't accept when relationships are over but women are the emotional ones

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keshetchai · 8 months

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Greetings Friend,

I hope you can help me

How did you go about learning Hebrew? As in what resources, classes, books etc. did you use to get a handle on the language?

I really struggle with languages, so I was hoping you had some advice or tips.

As a bit of background, I am currently a conversion student, going on almost 2.5 years now. I have long since completed the formal learning requirement with my synagogue (conservative) and according to my rabbis, I am free to attend the Beit Din and Mikvah whenever I so choose.

I know my neshama is Jewish, I know this is who I am/supposed to be. I know because of some unusual childhood experiences, and then when I started converting most aspects of the learning and practices came so naturally (granted nowhere near an orthodox level of observance, which isn’t necessarily the goal at this time, but certainly not something I am opposed to perusing) except for the languages.

As previously stated my rabbis say it is okay but something is holding me back from taking that final plunge (lol), and I believe it’s the language.

I still bench in English, and find it really stressful to attend services because I can barely muddle my way around the liturgy, or songs during a Shabbat dinner.

Of course this is just a personal hang up, and absolutely no criticism or shame on anyone else who converted without knowing/knowing very little of the language. Just, for some reason it just doesn’t feel right. I cannot bring myself to say I am actually a member of this wonderful, beautiful tribe before I have overcome this hurdle.

So… any advice?

A few answers for you, the first is most important:

Very Early On in my studying, one of the two rabbis at my synagogue wasn't leading and so she sat in the back, and I decided to sit next to her because i was still finding my footing in the basic service.

And at one point, it may have been for mi hamocha, the cantor starts with a NEW tune I don't know, and I'm still relying on the transliteration entirely and was still trying to memorize the FIRST tune.

And my rabbi leans over and whispers to me: "I have never heard this tune before in my life either."

And the anxiety broke, then. I didn't know this version for the song already and I was lost. But the rabbi sitting next to me also didn't know this tune.

Being Jewish is about always learning something new, even if you are encountering the same thing you've seen or done before dozens or hundreds of times. THAT is being Jewish. Rereading the same book every year and the same passages over and over, but still being a little lost or even finding something you never knew before?

That is being a Jew.

Jews may open a siddur and know what they'll find there, but we do not open it and expect to know everything about how that material is used or applied. And we don't feel a guarantee that life will not teach us something new today, or that someone's minhag won't be totally different from ours. Jews may know the Torah, they may even choose to memorize the mitzvot by heart, but we don't expect this memorization will ensure we never have a halakhic question in life!

So you see, the big scary fact is this: you might become a fluent reader of prayer book Hebrew, you might someday daven entirely in Hebrew, or even graduate rabbinical school, but still sometimes be thrown into being a stranger to something, even something you thought you knew.

But when you identify this and then embrace it, it becomes less scary and part of your Jewish identity. Being perfectly settled, fixed in your knowledge or your thinking or your skills — it honestly doesn't feel terribly Jewish to me.

And for many people born as Jews this can manifest as a type of reflexive embarrassment or self-consciousness for failing at jewishness somehow or having less knowledge for one reason or another. It can make folks defensive or ashamed or feel frustrated for the disconnect. I'm here to tell you that as converts we get the chance to illustrate joyfully that no Jew knows everything Jewish, and that is the experience of being Jewish. The biggest thing holding any of us back from learning the things we don't know is

a) being afraid to seem not Jewish enough or

b) being afraid to not know something

I have excellent news for your (and my) anxiety:

A) almost all Jews worry about how Jewish they seem in some fashion or another so that's normal and,

B) since only hashem knows everything, our job is to not know everything, but to be willing to learn anything. Also we're better in numbers! Two heads are better than one and a minyan is better than that! Everyone doesn't know something, but none of us are alone as Jews. Which is why we become Jewish in community, and not alone. Because someone else might know what we don't!

Get it?

Step #1: you have to jump feet first into not already knowing something perfectly and start knowing less but learning more.

If you are reading the English words and English translations to daven, this means you need to stop. This was your training wheel. And you are not finding your own balance relying on it.

If your siddur has transliterations of the hebrew, bring a little index card next time and cover up the English as you daven for a start. I familiarized myself with the Hebrew because I was saying everything in Hebrew out loud every single time. Once you know the shema by heart more or less (for example), all you have to do is learn the alphabet to prompt your memory to progress further in your Hebrew learning.

That's how kids learn any language. We speak before reading as children. So speak and chant and sing in Hebrew. Whisper the Hebrew. As you get more comfortable, learning to read Hebrew will be an exercise you can even do during the middle of shabbat.

Because you know what the prayer says, and you just need to match the words you see to the sounds you know.

Step #2: know the aleph bet before you attempt reading comprehension of all words.

Things that I used to learn the aleph bet:

Hebrew scripts (the app by drops)

Write it! Hebrew app

Victoria Hanna's The Aleph Bet Song (Hosha'na) because uh she sings the aleph bet and pronounces it

Behrman House Books: Hineni: prayerbook Hebrew for adults; aleph isn't tough! For adults. The kids stuff is good too, I'm not ashamed to say I own "time to read Hebrew!" 1&2

(The Hebrew by inbal on Amazon looks new but good possibly?)

If you want a siddur set up specifically to practice matching transliteration and Hebrew aleph bet, I recommend Chayim Alevsky's My Siddur (choose the minhag variant you use! I bought the Sephardic/Israeli as I don't use ashkie pronunciations.

There will be slight differences of you're used to liberal inclusion of say, the matriarchs, but in general this is a solid practice book for anyone. Transliteration is given word by word, with full word blocks reading in the same direction as Hebrew. At the bottom of the page certain (possibly newer to the learner) words will be defined.

It also now has an app which looks like this:

So you see this is pairing the reading direction of Hebrew words with the sounds spelled out in English to strengthen your Hebrew. If you try to read the transliteration in the English direction word by word, you'll be reading it backwards and starting with v'kayahm, instead of "modeh" (or "modah" feminine). Further even if you're starting correctly with modeh, the English word is still left to right over the Hebrew right to left. so this forces you to be attentive to the Hebrew itself and slow down word by word!

The layout in the print versions means you can cover up the transliteration to test your learning of certain words, and only check if you forget.

I still am not perfect at everything and I truthfully attentively practice Chinese far more than Hebrew reading, but this is what helped me.

Good luck!

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brandwhorestarscream · 7 days

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Angst someone?

Tfa Optimus, maybe?

Or someone from tfe? It's been a while since we do anything with tfe

I have the perfect TFA Optimus angst

Conaider: TFA Megatron having lost a child to the cruelty of the system (this is important to the story trust me). It's one of his greatest motivators: he knows his sparkling is alive as the bond never broke, simply went dormant. He has little hope of ever reuniting with his bitty, but he'll be damned if he won't tear any world to shreds that would allow such practices.

Picking up at the end of season 3 (sans Prowl death because tbh I'm still mad about that), Megatron and the other decepticons have been dragged off to Cybertron. Sentinel has been removed from his temporary seat of power, and with Ultra Magnus still in recovery, as the one who apprehended Megatron, Optimus is left temporarily in charge. Or, at the very least, he's been given some decision making power, but it mostly amounts to paperwork and public appearances as the newest autobot hero

The council decides pretty swiftly that Megatron shall be put to death. Execution is the safest option, and they offer Optimus the honor of snuffing his spark.

And Optimus.......... he's honestly sick at the thought. He's a good autobot, of course, make no mistake! He definitely thinks all decepticons should be in prison forever, but the death penalty? It's too much, he can't stomach the thought. He's never taken anyone's life before, has never even really hurt anyone before, he could never bring himself to raise a weapon against someone that cannot fight back. He firmly declines, says there's no way in hell he'll do it, and begs the council to reconsider. Murder isn't the answer! Killing him won't solve anything!

Unfortunately, he's unable to sway their decision, and desperately tries to search for something, anything, a loophole or some obscure old law to delay the execution. He's hoping that, if he can just push it back til Ultra Magnus is back on his feet, he'll surely cancel the whole affair. His word is law, after all, and- and Ultra Magnus is a just and fair old mech. He'd never approve of this!

He finds a temporary solution while pouring over the autobot laws surrounding practices and procedures of such things. The mech to be executed can choose to be awake or sedated, is entitled to a final cube of warm energon, and is permitted to make a reasonable final request. That last bit catches this attention: reasonable requests are defined in the books as something not monetarily excessive, in no way harmful, and lasting no more than one megacycle. It's... not much, but he's determined to make it work.

He brings the law to Megatron, and implores him to think of something, anything, that would take the autobots awhile to procure but wouldn't be expensive or harmful. He's old, right? Maybe he can ask for some obscure old musical record from before the war, or-

Megatron cuts him off with an unreadable expression, saying he already knows what he'll request.

Come the day of the execution and it's Optimus that brings up the law concerning final requests, and they must uphold every written rule, no exceptions. And what could Megatron ask for but to see his sparkling one last time?

"The only thing I'll request is a brief reunion with my son."

Which in turn sets off a wild goose chase trying to find any record of a singular stolen sparkling from 4 million years ago. It's an airtight request, as all the information pertaining to the sparkling should be in public records or private elite guard files, either way they can't be charged to view them. And if there's an argument for the cost of labor, Optimus volunteers to do it for free 🤭 so long as he does the search without pay and the scheduled meeting between Megatron and his "sun", whatever that is, lasts less than a megacycle, the execution can be delayed indefinitely. Optimus just has to work slowly and hope that Magnus recovers soon!

And then, y'know, Optimus discovering what sparklings are, where they come from, uncovering the hideous truths about how bad Cybertron was way back in the day, and eventually 👀 unraveling the mysterious identity of the lost mech he's looking for. Things start piling up, he finds more and more suspicious bread crumbs, criminal records, police reports, etc, and eventually through like 10 active cross references and several weeks of intensive research, he finds his answer. A file that's millions and millions of years old, detailing a civilian sparkling's removal from his carrier because warframes were universally deemed unfit to parent other frametypes. The sparkling in the photo looks terrified, tiny hands clinging to the bars of the small cage he's being transported in, looking at the camera with wild optics and a terrified, tear streaked face. The poor little thing is painfully small, still nubby and round everywhere he looks. His optics are a bit too big, and his finials are a different shape, but it's unmistakable... Optimus squints at the picture for several seconds with a sense of dawning horror, and he realizes it all at once: he's staring at his own face >:)

#your daily dose of angst #Optimus #Megatron

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sullyglcw · 2 years

Note

hi could you do a rhaenyra x reader angst where reader is considering breaking up with rhaenyra since she’s about to be queen but rhaenyra finds out? thank you!!

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 - Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader

pairings - rhaenyra targaryen x Fem!Reader

non/request - requested

warnings - mentions of homphobia , mentions of aegon , implied smut , arranged marriages , incest , mentions of death , possibly real shitty high valaryian

summary - after hearing about the death of the king you decide it is best to leave the red keep, scared of rumours spreading about you and rhaenyra and jeprodising her place as queen .

i do not give anyone to copy or translate my work , if insparation is taken from my post @ me and give credits, thank you for reading .

King Viseryes was dead, the news was spread in the early morn. You knew what this meant, Rhaenyra was to be crowned queen. that was unless the greens got their way, some part of you hoped that they did.

It was certainly a selfish thought but with good reasoning. If the greens were to get their way you and rhaenyra would get your peace, she would be yours and you would be hers but even without her being queen, that was an almost impossible wish.

Your hand glided across the spired scales of syrax, Rhaenyra's mount and a being you considered yourself to be close with. Your thoughts drifted back to the dragon rides you shared with your beloved Nyra, as you nicknamed her, the first time scared the living daylights out of you but towards the end, you felt free. The tiny world beneath at your fingertips. That was how Rhaenyra made you feel, Free.

"emā kȳvana naejot henujagon?" (you have plans to leave?) The voice that usually left you with comfort now made you feel nothing but sorrow and mourning.

She stood behind you, tall and regal, but you sensed she was feeling anything but. Her voice was raspy as if she had been crying and when you turned her fingers were intertwined, rubbing her own palm as if to give herself comfort.

"i gaomagon, iksan daor longer jorrāelatan kesīr. " (i do, i am no longer needed here.) You replied, daring to turn your head to glance on her. She looked as beautiful as the first time you saw her, if not more so.

"I need you here." vulnerable, a quality of Rhaenyra's that was hardly shown to anyone but you

Rhaenyra stepped forward to take your hands in her shaky ones, they were cold, contrasting to your warm ones. A quality she loved about you.

But you couldnt stay, you couldnt bare to watch as she took thr throne with Daemon at her side, her uncle who had an admiration and love for Rhaenyra throughout the years had managed to steal her from you, you were left with nothing.

Her eyes bored into yours as you spoke again "You are to be queen Rhaenyra, I cannot sit by and watch as he reigns beside you."

The queen to be looked down at the stone strewn ground. For once she was lost for words, when she finally looked up again her forehead connected with yours.

So many words were spoken and feelings were shared in this moment without any speach.

A hand cupped your face and soft lips met yours, moving at a soft slow pace. Both savouring what would be their last moment together. It felt like a breath of fresh air.

You pulled away slowly, as if when your lips left hers you would die, like she was poison, an addiction you would die without her.

"i jaelagon ao sȳrī, ñuha mērī jorrāelagon." ("i wish you well, my only love.") That was the last word she spoke to you before you watched as her figure turned and retreated, you swear you saw a tear in her eye.

Your heart broke and as a tear slipped out of your own eye, you whispered ,

"i jorrāelagon ao. " (I love you.)

#hotd x reader #hotd #hotd spoilers #rhaenyra x reader #gxg imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon incorrect quotes #fem oc #rhaenyra targaryen

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boonsmoon · 11 months

Note

Hey I wanted to ask if you could write character x reader with Crimson from Ragna Crimson? I don't have any request regarding the setting or anything else in that matter. You have a free hand on that part :3 And sorry if I sound stiff but english isn't my first language

i love you /platonic Crimson is my favorite character like <3 thanking Miku that Ragna Crimson simps exist on this site LMAO spoilers/references to chapter 50+

Request Masterlist Series ML Crimson x f!reader Genres:🎉🌸💞🧪

Traitors Love

You two were close. Not close as in being linked through Crimson's powers. It was more of a mutual liking you took towards each other. Of course, it's not hard when you both are considered traitors to your kin.

Despite sharing the status of traitor, you both differed in various ways. While both superior dragons, neither of you came from the same bloodline. You are one of the rare Claw Brethren. There is also the act of betrayal. You've never held a monarch role like Crimson, so you simply left your previous ways of genocide on humans.

However, you both share a common goal, to take down the Dragon God. Except you didn't foresee that after working together for years, you would start to fall for the heartless mastermind.

But he wasn't truly heartless, you know this. No one got close to Crimson like you. In fact, you are the only living dragon other than Borgius to have seen Crimson in his monarch days. And you must say, it was quite the look.

All that being said, you have finally wiped out a bloodline, the Winged one at that! And you couldn't be happier to have done that, especially with Crimson at your side. Though you suppose the human deserves some credit.

"What we'll do is stay with the Sun Cult and follow their plans. Of course, this is subject to change, as you can't blindly follow homicidal cultists," Crimson was setting up the team's new plan since y'all don't really have one beyond killing dragons.

The team, of course, listened to the brains. Plus, you can't really put your trust in an organization willing to sacrifice their own people... With the end of the talk, each member dispersed to do as they pleased with their new free time. That left you to spend your time with Crimson...

"Tell me, do you really believe that boy will follow any plans the cult gives him?" You personally thought this human would ignore the Sun Cult as a whole, which ya know, makes a lot of sense.

Crimson smirked, but you could feel a mix of disappointment and anger coming off him, "I expect him to, but of course an ignorant brat who only cares about getting rid of bloodlines as soon as possible could derail my entire plan..."

You stared off into nothing, knowing there's not much comfort you can provide. You both sat on the loveseat, planning to have some productive conversation. Or at least you thought so.

Crimson broke the silence, surprisingly getting a bit emotional. Obviously, you couldn't tell from a glance at his face though. "Why are you so stupid as to stay around and follow my plans?"

You were stunned, Crimson is always so proud of his plans, shouldn't he be glad you follow without question?

"You have the strength to destroy a superior dragon, to fight one until daylight and watch it burn. So why don't you?" Crimson is praising you; something isn't right here.

You, getting caught in your feelings after so many centuries, thought saying the first thing that came to mind was absolutely genius, "have you ever considered it's because I love you?" NO- GO BACK GO BACK GO BACK.

No, you cannot go back. Now deal with the consequences of your actions. The consequences aren't that bad actually, it's just a reply, "wow, you're dumber than I thought."

Are you dumb? Sorta. You did fall for quite possibly the biggest asshole to walk this earth.

Now it'd be smart to shut up, yes? No, you will continue, but this time make it cringe, "I'm an idiot, but I can be your idiot."

With a look of shock to a sly smirk, Crimson says, "always have been." You are hiding in your hands, you foolish fool, how did you not see it?

Crimson moves your hands and slowly kisses you. Yeah, you definitely wanna kill the entire dragon species with this person. <3

i wrote this listening to International Love 👍

kinda cringe but gotta embrace it

#ragna crimson #crimson ragna crimson #crimson x reader #ragna crimson x reader

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nyaboshi · 5 months

Note

Kimitomo? :D

@exhaustedwriterartist Answering both of you simultaneously, since Kimitomo and Koa kinda go hand-in-hand.

Be warned that there's some violence in their backstories. I won't go into detail, but it'll be mentioned.

First off. Kimitomo. My big bundle of trauma and unhinged behavior.

Kimitomo is an ex-assassin who used to belong to this notorious clan until he was about 16. When he was about 3-4, the clan invaded his village, killed everyone older than six, and took whoever was left to be integrated into their clan. Kimitomo hardly remembers his parents, but his subconscious is very traumatized.

All of these children were quite literally brainwashed to be the perfect assassins. Kimitomo in particular was among the best at his age, so he and a couple others were chosen to be experimented on to see if their physical capabilities could be enhanced. The other two died during the tests, but Kimitomo survived and was successfully enhanced.

He's quicker and has better instincts than the average human being, and he also has SUPER sensitive senses. He smells, hears, and tastes everything, and he has incredibly sharp eyes. His sense of touch is also boosted, and it kinda gives him like a sixth sense. He can sense movement from within a certain radius of him.

However, he ended up having to sacrifice a great deal of his physical strength. He's very weak, and can't take much damage at all. Defeating him isn't much of a challenge, if you can actually manage to hit him. 😭

He lived as a mindless, highly skilled assassin for years. It wasn't until he was 16 that he finally managed to break out of the brainwashing that was given him. He had been given a job where he was meant to kill off a small, wealthy family and bring a certain artifact back to the clan. He managed to kill the father, but the children's terror broke through the barrier over his kind and threw him back to his own parents' deaths. He broke out of the brainwashing enough to let the mother and the children live and abandon the job.

After that, he ran and plotted a way to take out his clan. He succeeded, killing off all of the older members of the clan. However, he spared the children and helped them to shake off the brainwashing. He made sure to send all of them to safe places where they would have happier lives.

As for Kimitomo himself, he's kinda gone off the grid. He still greatly struggles with the effects of the brainwashing. Unlike the children he saved, he was completely under its control and was only able to partially break free. The brainwash effect is still in his mind, and it takes the form of whispers in the back of his mind urging him into violent streaks. 90% of the time he's able to suppress it. But there are moments where it bottles up so much that it breaks out in dramatic fits and he pretty much goes feral.

He wants so badly to be a good person, but he feels like he'll never be able to get there. He's very pessimistic when it comes to himself, and tends to isolate himself from others so he doesn't hurt them. However, he has a HUGE soft spot for kids. Literally cannot say no to them. 😭

As for Koa, he's one of the children Kimitomo saved from the assassin clan. He was a little bit older when he was saved, so he's still somewhat affected by his old life. However, he's been able to grow up into a kind, albeit VERY broody, young man. He's currently searching for Kimitomo because he wants to express his gratitude and try and repay him for saving him from a fate of murder and captivity.

I have an image of Koa that I generated with AI as a reference until I draw him. Yeah yeah, I know, AI art is controversial and all that, but it helps me to have a visual image of my characters when designing them.

My baby 🥰

I don't have a reference for Kimitomo. I didn't like anything the AI gave me .3.

Anyways. Those are my sneaky boys! 👐

Thanks for the asks, you two!

#ocs #oc concepts #backstory #assassins #oc backstory #lore #answering asks #nyaboshi #christian artist

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andromeda4004 · 1 year

Text

Share it Sunday - Rebecca AU

I'm planning to start publishing this in about a month, and since I made great progress on it yesterday, here's a taste of the opening soliloquy. If you're familiar with du Maurier's Rebecca, I am changing a few major points of the plot, but still drawing heavily on some of the key points of the novel, including the first person perspective from an unidentified female narrator...

Last night I dreamt (more under the cut)

Last night I dreamt I went to Sanderley again. It has been many years since I left that place – I shall not call it home – and yet at times my mind does drift back there upon a sleeping tide and wash me ashore where I used to dwell. In my dream I come, as it seems, from nowhere, upon the night-time gatehouse and that long, disorienting drive, with not a thought but the pull to move onwards, inwards, through. I part the gates, their white paint flaking, though they are caught up in vines and drag across undergrowth, and the gravel beyond is narrowed from a driveway to a meandering path through the woods, the route obscured here and there by a sprawl of shrubbery or the sudden upstart of a sapling, sprouting where once the car would run. The woods go on and on, and I go with them, first walking, then running, then flying, as one does in dreams, along what remains of the path, dark ahead and enclosed above, until finally the trees give way to the opalescence of the rhododendrons, blooming at the height of their powers, despite all else having gone to ruin. They rise steep to either side of me, the sweet domesticated perennials grown monstrous, twenty feet, thirty feet, forty feet high, and covered every inch in flowers, ghostly white in the moonlight of my imagining. I remember the scent even now, something spicy-sweet and indefinable; indefatigable. The inescapable scent of Sanderley in springtime.

It lingers even as I break free, finally, of the plants which choke the driveway and I spill out onto the lawns above the house. That view, it always challenged me, should I admire first the gardens, or the sea or Sanderley itself? Even in my dream, I cannot focus, cannot choose; after the homogeneity of dark trees then pale flowers, there is suddenly too much variety to see. But of course it is Sanderley, always, that demands my attention, though the moonlight skitters beautifully across the wavecrests beyond. The broad north-east face of the house stares back towards me, two unbroken rows of perfect matched windows that reminded me always of a set of teeth, locked in a gritted grin. And bordering each window-frame that ostentatious golden finish which caught the light so prettily in the dawn, but stands out brassy now in my moonlit dream, the only point of colour in my sight. There is something awful – in the sense of awe-filled – in its great mass of stone, and glass, and glorious history. Sanderley is undeniable. Sanderley simply is.

And as I come upon the house itself, I feel again that hope, that same, strange hope that dogged my footsteps always in those days; boundless, groundless hope that a wisdom greater than my own would guide me to a purpose. When first I saw Sanderley with my waking eyes, I had thought I’d found it, that purpose; when last I saw Sanderley, I knew myself better, and I had no longer any need for hope. I had certainty.

My dreaming eyes, however, they look across the years and miles and see Sanderley as it must be by now. The ivy beginning to clog the stonework, the windows cracked and broken here and there, the soot stains where the fire broke free. I move, without any sense of effort, around the building, to the terrace which faces the sloping gardens and the distant cliffs, where the driveway ends in a white portico and wide steps, now grubby and forgotten, and the perfect formal gardens overflow their box hedges. Such a shame. Someone ought to care for this place, I think in my dream. Although it shall not be me.

____

I would love to hear thoughts and speculations, since many of you voted for me to spend time on this. I'm planning to post the story through October and November.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens au #good omens fanfic #ineffable wives #Share it Sunday #shareitsunday #good omens fanfic wip

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whereismymindnow · 8 days

Text

Twin Hearts Chapter Eight

Author's Note: I cannot wait to stop being a student. Assignments and exams may be over, but I still have practical templates to complete, then a 60 minute verbal assessment, then finally 12 practical assessments to try and become a registered veterinary nurse.

My apologies for once again being delayed with updating the fic. As you can imagine, I’m a bit stretched thin at the moment. It may please you to hear that the next chapter is ¾ finished so I aim to upload it in the next week or two!

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Twin!Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+ due to mature, darker themes. Twincest. Smut. Strong language. Death. Miscarriage. Murder. Vampire/Hybrid violence. Please read responsibly.

If this work is found anywhere other than Tumblr (@whereismymindnow) or Archive of Our Own (Mikki19) then it has been posted without my permission.

Twin Hearts Masterlist

---

Chapter Eight: Reparation

Pia sighed softly as she felt his eyes on her for what felt like the millionth time in the past hour. The sound of his pencil scratching against the surface of the paper reached her ears once again. The female hybrid opted to ignore her brother for a while longer and turned the page of her book.

“No… no, that isn’t right…” His soft muttering broke the peace for the third time in ten minutes and Pia found herself re-reading a whole paragraph to return her mind to the wizarding world and not the annoyance that was a few feet away from her. She forced a smile on her face and pretended to have not been distracted by- “A little more definition… that is better…” Her eyes rolled to the ceiling as she silently counted back from ten.

Ignore him.

She was sure that he was doing this on purpose.

Right, Mr Potter. You have my full attention, she reiterated in her mind and embroiled herself back into the life of a young character that seemed to have worse luck than her. Her brow creased a little as a small ache within her belly made her pause and press a hand to her abdomen; the dull throbbing sensation felt like a tightness in her stomach, but it wasn’t painful so she ignored it. She would read this page if it killed her. Perhaps she was just hungry or it was her wolf wanting to break free. She could feel the claws begging to be let out from inside her skin as her wolf paced. A run was probably due shortly.

Klaus glanced over at his sister as he felt his wolf begin to whine inside his head. He felt her discomfort through their bond and watched as she brought her knees to her chest as she read. She didn’t seem as though she was in pain and so assumed her wolf probably just wanted to be free which was causing his wolf to be impatient to be let out also. With a shake of his head he focused upon his drawing once more “What is missing…?” The sound of the pencil being tapped against the paper as he deliberated the sketch on the page was the last straw for Pia.

“For goodness sake, Niklaus!”

Thunk!

The second year of Harry Potter’s life at Hogwarts hit the floor after being thrown against the wall. Niklaus raised his brows at the glare that was sent his way as he innocently looked from his drawing pad to his sister.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I was drawing you.” He said as though it was obvious.

“And you just had to keep muttering under your breath and tapping your pencil? And let’s not even mention how loudly you seemed to rub that eraser across the page!”

“Sister, are you mad at me?” His dimpled smile made her glare falter. She pointed a finger at him as her glare faltered under this mischievous expression.

“Do not. Do not do that.” Pia bit the inside of her cheek to stop the smile that threatened to grow on her face as her finger shook slightly.

Elijah, who had been observing the two silently with Rebekah, couldn’t help but feel a rare flutter of happiness in his chest as he saw the twins begin one of their stubborn games with each other.

It had been centuries since Niklaus had done something that would annoy her and lead them to sit in silence until one of them broke out into laughter. Klaus’ dirty tactics of using his dimples against his twin would nearly always make Pia break first. She adored the cheeky grin that he would reserve for her.

Rebekah beamed at the sight of her beloved siblings acting as they used to. She had often envied the close bond that they had; at one point in time they had seemed unbreakable. Niklaus and Pia were a force to be reckoned with when they teamed up, but often enough they would use their pride and power against each other to test who was the strongest. They had not played with each other so innocently in years and she had worried that Pia’s late awakening would lead to them never resolving their issues. Of course, she knew that Pia was still wary of her brother, but Rebekah also knew that Nik had something up his sleeve to prove himself to Pea. So, this current game that Pia was so obviously losing was a great indication that things would soon be back to normal… well, at least as normal as their family could be.

“Niko!” Pia whined before breaking out into loud laughter at his attempt to widen his eyes to further his protest of innocence. She sped over to him, jumped onto his lap and roughly hit his chest until he grabbed her hands. Their breathless laughter faded as they recognised their lips were mere inches apart; time seemed to slow as Klaus released her and gently tucked a curl behind her ear. His fingers lightly grazed her right cheek before settling on the side of her neck; his touch caused goosebumps to rise on her arms, it was though he was made of pure electricity. Her wolf was aching to submit to her mate. He rubbed his thumb over her throat, smirking as her pupils expanded and she swallowed nervously.

“Pia…” Despite a large portion of her wishing to do nothing more than taste his lips at that very moment, Pia settled her head against his shoulder and nosed his neck to take in his scent. Klaus felt disappointment wash over him before he shook it away. She needed more time. He nuzzled the side of her head and rubbed his hands up and down her back as a low growl vibrated through their chests.

“Can we go for another run?” Pia asked quietly as another ache began in her abdomen; maybe stretching her legs would appease the wolf.

“Of course, sister.”

-----

Elijah found himself once again outside of the Salvatore Boarding House. Whilst he was pleased to see Pia’s progress he also knew that once she overcame her issues with Niklaus she would be on the search to find Elena. Her bond with her twin had served as a great distraction that had allowed for Elijah to seek out the Gilbert girl and speak with her and her friends about Pia’s awakening, but it was time for him to make them realise just how dangerous his younger sister could be. They needed to know more about her to be ready for when she is prepared to seek out the newest doppelganger.

Was he completely sure that she would wish to harm Elena? No. After all, she had welcomed Katerina with open arms until her betrayal and had tried her hardest to not blame the girl for her ancestor’s wrongdoings. However, the dagger had only been taken from her chest a short while ago and she was still very much unpredictable.

It was in Elena’s best interest to listen to him now and be prepared should she come across Pia. With this thought Elijah stepped over the threshold and followed the doppelganger to the living area where the rest of the opposition sat.

Damon sent Elijah a sarcastic wave as he poured himself a fresh glass of bourbon. Oh, the oldest Salvatore was definitely ready to hear more about the little blonde that he had fought a few nights ago.

Elijah settled onto the couch opposite Elena and Caroline. Damon and Stefan remained behind the two girls whilst Bonnie took up a separate chair on Elena’s right. After taking a few moments to decide what he should tell them, Elijah began to recount a piece of Pia’s history.

“In the 11th Century there were a string of gruesome deaths that lasted up until the early 12 Century. People would turn up dead with their necks so badly ripped open that their heads would be separated from their body.” He gave a pointed look at Stefan before continuing. “At first people thought it was an animal, but then there were signs of continuity. The bodies would be decapitated, but there would be no other mark on their skin. So, of course this soon led people to think that this could not just be a wild animal hunting for prey.

“Why would an animal not rip the entire body to shreds? That was the question that could never be answered. This then caused people to believe that a demon had broken free from Hell and was bringing pain and death to Earth.

“In 1059 a man named Thomas Howard and his family were victims of this demon. People came across the bloody scene and surprisingly Howard was still alive; the entire right side of his neck was hanging on by threads. He clung to life long enough to choke through his own blood and describe the creature that people feared so terribly.

“She took the form of a girl with blonde hair and pale skin. Her voice was as smooth as silk and she had a smile that would make any man feel weak at the knees. It was her face that revealed her true demonic form; she had blood red eyes and vicious fangs that glinted under the moonlight. She was named the Snow White Killer due to her skin being free of imperfections and as flawless as freshly dropped snow.

“It did not take long for me to hear of the story. Pia was the demon that people feared. My sister is dangerous, but she hides it well. Her innocent features have always been her victims’ downfall. She draws them in with her sweet nature before destroying them. Stay away from her and resist taunting Niklaus if she is near. Pia is very dedicated to our brother.”

“And if he decides to come to us?” Caroline stayed silent as Elena spoke with Elijah. She had not yet had a chance to speak to Pia or see her properly. She could hardly call when she was first awakened a true meeting as Pia had been completely out of it at the time. Caroline was anxious; surely the siblings had told their sister of Klaus’ infatuation with her. So, what was her reaction? Should she expect to have to look over her shoulder each time she left the house?

“Be aware of what you say. Pia understands how Niklaus is and how people have a right to despise him, but that does not mean that she has not set a boundary for how much slander she will allow herself to hear.”

Damon raised his brows and took a sip of his bourbon. He could understand how easily she could hypnotise her prey. The air of mystery around this new Mikaelson was alluring and her fair complexion made her hard to ignore. After their fight, he’d thought of how she smiled and enjoyed herself even when in pain. Her eyes had been bright and full of mischief the entire time. “So… another psycho to put down then?”

“Damon, you should really take a care of what you say. They are my family despite their transgressions.” Elijah let his veiled threat hang in the air as he stood and vacated the living area. As he grasped the handle of the front door he turned to look at Elena once more. “Do be more aware of your surroundings for the next few weeks. Pia has not made it known that she wishes to meet you, but I have no doubt that she will be plotting silently to confront you soon enough.” Almost as a second thought he sent a meaningful glance to Caroline, who still remained silent, before he exited the boarding house.

“Well I understood that message loud and clear.” The blonde piped up after letting out a deep breath.

“Okay… so what about the spell? Are we still on for that or are we gonna let a pint-sized she-wolf scare us off?”

“A pint-siz- Damon! That is two Original Hybrids walking freely in our town now!” Elena raised her voice in disbelief as the raven-haired man made light of the situation. “Are you forgetting how close she was to poisoning you with her venom?”

“It’s still on. We may have gotten rid of Esther but Klaus is back to being our number one threat. We take him out before he does something drastic to get Elena.” Bonnie said with finality.

“What if Pia tries to harm Tyler afterwards?” The trap put them all in danger, but Caroline was worried for Tyler. He was planning to leave in the next few days to break the sire bond and the spell would be done once he returned. Would Pia take it out on Tyler once she realises what he has done? After hearing of the Snow White Killer, Caroline was absolutely certain that her lust for blood and ruin would escalate to an unprecedented scale once her brother is desiccated.

“If I need to then I’ll take care of this Pia also.”

-----

Pia remained in a blissful state after having her run with her brother. She had finally begun to truly feel welcomed into this new world and her shoulders were not as tense as they had been recently. She passed through the trees with her sandals in her hand; her beige dress reached her knees and was surprisingly clean to say that she had it left in the forest during their outing. She pulled a stray twig from her hair and stared up at the manor that she now called her home.

She still found it completely out of place in this little town, but now that she had calmed herself, she could see that Niklaus had indeed done a fine job and the building was beautiful to look at. She enjoyed the artefacts that her brother had collected, and despite the modern twists that could be found here and there, the feel of the house gave her comfort. She felt safe in there and the fact that their family had been reunited, minus Finn, made it all the better. There was a small inkling of guilt as she enjoyed the company of her most beloved siblings though. She did think about Finn, but with how much time they had spent apart, and the fact that they had never been very close whilst still human, it made it difficult to truly miss her eldest brother. A small part of her wished that she had spent more time with him, but after living for so long she realised that there would be many regrets that she would experience. All par for the course of being immortal she assumed.

Speaking of which, her gaze turned from the starry sky to the hybrid that walked nearby.

"Tyler?" The boy looked up and bowed his head accordingly. Klaus had been very clear on how his twin should be treated.

“Pia. How can I be of assistance?” His careful tone revealed his uncertainty as he had never been approached by the female before. Pia found herself quite disappointed as she had heard great things about the overconfident baby wolf.

"You are a hybrid. My brother has killed thousands and tortured hundreds to gain the power to create you and the others. You are not a little mouse; you are one of the most powerful beings in all of creation. You shall speak with confidence the next time that you address me. You are not the servant that Klaus treats you as." Tyler felt an odd amount of gratitude at hearing her words. At least Pia seemed to understand their feelings on the matter of how Klaus treated them. "Now, what are you doing? It is almost midnight."

"Patrolling the grounds." Tyler replied simply. Those were his orders: patrol the grounds and report any disturbances. He would be so happy when he manages to sneak away and break this sire bond for good. It was exhausting to protect the people that you despise.

"All of you?" Pia had noticed a few hybrids on her way back to the house. They had all avoided her path but her ancient senses allowed her to hear their footsteps quite clearly.

"Yes, Pia."

"Ugh.” Pia could not have been more annoyed at her brother’s actions. He had spent so many bloody years trying to break his curse and create more hybrids and now he was making them his slaves. Did he not understand how he was only turning them against him? "I am over one thousand years old. I am an Original Hybrid. Niklaus may think of me as some innocent maiden that would be knocked over by a slight gust of wind, but I assure you that I shall be quite fine on my own.” The man in question lurked back behind a tree. Klaus remained silent and smirked at his sister’s words but felt no remorse for keeping the hybrids nearby. Mikael was still at large and he would rather his creations be destroyed than his twin. As far as Klaus was concerned, the hybrids would stay until Mikael was dead.

“Excuse me, Pia. I must get back to my duties.” He had seen the glow of Klaus’ eyes from within the forest and knew that he had a limited window before the Original approached them. He was not in the mood for another slanging match that would no doubt ensue between them both; Caroline had been his favourite topic as of late… at least, she had been until Pia had emerged from her coffin.

“Wait a moment, Tyler.” Oh, Pia was well aware of her mate’s scent as it travelled to her within the breeze. It was perfect timing for him to hear her next words. "Caroline is your other half, correct?"

"Yes..." Tyler did not like where this was going. He had wanted to avoid Klaus’ taunts should he approach, but the sudden look of seriousness in Pia’s eyes made him feel slightly ill. Tyler had been surprised that he had not heard much of Caroline being mentioned by the female when he had overheard her conversations within the house; her suddenly bringing up his girlfriend now made him feel anxious.

"Keep her away from Nik."

"That is difficult considering Klaus' infatuation." Tyler chose his words with care, he did not wish to antagonise her. The blonde hardly ever sought out Klaus’ attention from what he knew of, the Original just always seemed to find Caroline.

"You will keep her away from my brother or I shall bite her and watch as my poison slowly tears your little vampire's brain apart. I will make you listen as every blood vessel shrivels and dies. I will make you watch as she loses herself to the madness. Then, when she finally feels ready to die, I shall rip her heart from her chest and feed it to you and my brother. Have I made myself clear?"

"Y-yes." After seeing his own poison ravage Caroline’s body due to Klaus’ control, Tyler never wanted to see her go through that sheer amount of agony again. He could only hope that his girlfriend would be smart enough to avoid the hybrid pair whilst he was away.

"Good. Leave me." Pia did not look back as she left the slightly shaken hybrid; it was about time that people knew who Niko belonged to… even Klaus appeared to need a reminder. The Original Hybrid emerged from the trees and caught Tyler’s eyes. Tyler silently asked him to leave Caroline alone as his maker walked past him with a blank expression. Only time would tell how the man would react to his twin’s words. Tyler could only hope that he would take them as seriously as he had done… for Caroline’s sake.

Pia felt at ease as she silently glided down the corridor to stop at her sister’s door. She peaked inside to see her younger sibling curled beneath her sheets. She carefully shut the door and placed her shoes on the floor. Rebekah remained with her eyes shut as Pia climbed onto her bed as she used to do many moons ago. She wrapped her sibling up in her arms and relished in the peace. A sharp twinge through her abdomen made her pause and wince a little. What was that? She shook her head as Rebekah stirred beside her; it wasn’t agonising, just annoying. Whatever it was could wait. She huffed as the sudden pain faded away again and pressed a small kiss upon the blonde’s brow, determined to not let the odd sensation ruin this moment.

“Pea?” Rebekah quietly called out into the darkness as her sister was the only person to do this in the past.

“Sssh. Stay in your slumber, Bekah.” Rebekah turned over and gave her a sleepy smile before resting her head upon Pia’s shoulder using it as a pillow. Pia calmly stroked a hand through her sister’s blonde locks and shut her eyes.

A smile remained on her face even as she woke to start a new day.

Things certainly seemed to be looking up for her.

---

Two days later.

“What has Nik been plotting, Elijah?” Pia asked for what seem to be the hundredth time as her eldest brother helped to tie the laces that ran up the back of the dress. The top part of the dress mimicked that of a corset before fanning out into layers of white fabric that stopped just above her knee. Elijah had walked into her room whilst she and Kol were lazing around and had handed her a package; Niklaus had ordered that she wear this apparently. The parcel was wrapped in red tissue paper with a black bow around it; her name was written in ink on a small tag that was stuck to the bow. She had fought the urge to gasp as she ran her fingers over the soft lace material of the bodice. It was beautiful, but that did not blind her to the motives behind the gift. Pia had looked at him suspiciously before moving behind her antique dressing screen so that she could change and question her siblings at the same time.

She knew that they knew… and they knew that she knew that they knew. Something was afoot.

It would appear that they could not say anything on pain of death though, because Pia had definitely threatened the pair of them with a pout on her face multiple times and they still remained silent.

“He is not plotting anything.”

“Then why are you here doing his bidding?” Elijah let out a sigh as he tied a small bow to finish the lacing before sitting beside a smirking Kol, who was currently stretched out upon her silk sheets.

“Dear Pea, it sounds like you do not trust our brother! What has he done to deserve that?” Kol’s sarcastic tone made her roll her eyes and stamp her foot in exasperation.

“Elijah, please tell me.” Pia was never one to enjoy surprises and so the questioning that Elijah was enduring was not a shock at all. Her gaze pinned him in place as she slipped her feet into the white pumps that Rebekah had oddly given her a few hours before. They were all in on it; the annoyed look in Kol’s eye told her as much. Whatever was happening was not pleasing him. Not at all. She clenched the half-moon pendant that hung from her neck and let out a huff of frustration. She did not need this right now; that annoying ache in her belly had begun again and now she was nervous as to whatever her mate had planned. All in all, she was a little bit stressed. This better be good. Pia unconsciously swayed from side to side and gazed down at her feet.

Kol remained lying on the bed and let out a deep sigh as he noticed her immediately grab her necklace when her anxiety began to spike. Even after all that had happened, she had still kept that bit of moulded metal. It had been Niklaus’ first gift to her and through thick and thin Pia had never been able to part with it. Just as Elijah was once again about to protest his innocence a knock at the door broke the atmosphere. Pia sent her siblings another look of suspicion before answering. Klaus stood on the other side, dressed in one of his finest suits, with a smile on his face. “Are you ready, darling?”

“You know that I despise surprises.”

“I promise that you will not despise this one.” He held out his hand for her to take. “Come with me.”

“What is this about?” Pia still did not move from the boundary of her bedroom. Klaus had to hide the small amount of hurt that pained him as she remained firmly where she was. Despite her hating surprises she would usually follow him to find out what the secrecy was for, but now she showed no signs of being swayed or bending to her own curiosity. Had he truly broken their relationship this much?

“You said that you could not trust me anymore. I want to start making amends. Please, my darling, take my hand and let me start to soothe your worries.”

“Pia…” She turned her head to look back at Elijah. Kol had gotten up from her bed and was looking out of her window; his back was to them and his hand clenched the frame, she noticed. “…you will love it, I promise.” Her eyes flitted back to her twin and she searched his expression. Adoration and longing reflected back at her.

“No more lies?”

“No more lies.” He affirmed before wiggling his fingers causing her to smile a little and bite her bottom lip. She gently took his hand and squeezed back when he tightened his grip for a few seconds. They had made it to the backdoors when Klaus suddenly stopped and turned to her. “I am afraid that I cannot let you ruin the surprise.”

“What do yo-” He quickly moved behind her, pressed his chest against her back and carefully covered her eyes with his palms.

“Let me guide you.” A shiver ran down her spine as his breath hit her ear. He placed a gentle kiss on her neck before nudging her forward. “Trust me.” Her steps were shaky as she let him move her forward. What on earth was going on?

Klaus kept his hands over Pia’s eyes, casually guiding her to the gazebo in the garden with a smile on his face. Rebekah lit the last of the candles and gave a quick glance at the décor as the couple came closer. She gave a satisfied nod and vamped away back inside.

“You can look now, Pia.” She blinked slowly at the sight in front of her. The reasoning behind her ban from the east side of the gardens was now clear.

A beautiful gazebo had been erected for her. A small trail of stepping stones created a path; candles flickered on either side of each stone to light the way. She smiled as she saw the final stone bore hers and Niko’s handprints; they had created it as a plaque in the early 1400s as a sign of their union. She hadn’t even realised that he had kept it. The floor was made of stone that shone due to the multiple circular fairy lights that dangled from the roofing. The roof was held up using four pillars that looked to mimic the old roman style; white climbing roses wrapped around the columns with more small lights peeking through the flowers as further decoration.

In the centre of the stone floor was a red blanket that looked plush and inviting; a cream coloured love seat was to the side with red petals sprinkled on it. A vase with a single white rose, two champagne flutes and an ice bucket with a bottle cooling in it was set in the middle of the throw. Small candles were scattered everywhere to finish off the romantic atmosphere.

“Do you like it?” Klaus whispered into her ear, smiling as she nodded but couldn’t find it in her to speak. “Rebekah has been slaving away all day to help me finish this. I’m sure you’ve seen the inane grin that has graced her face for the last seven hours.” The pair of them sat down on the red blanket and Pia smoothed out her white dress as Klaus filled the flutes with bubbling champagne. She hid her uncomfortable expression at the feeling of tightness in her stomach and focused upon her twin. Perhaps it was just the nerves causing this uncomfortable sensation.

“Indeed, I have. I was struggling to figure out as to why she seemed so pleased and giggly this morning. I did wonder if she was going to meet that Matt creature she has been telling me about.”

“Elijah helped me have the gazebo brought here yesterday when Kol kept you occupied playing Twister… that was an interesting game to observe, by the way.” Pia accepted her flute and narrowed her eyes at her brother’s teasing smile.

“I would have won but he tickled me on the back of my knee when he was able to reach. He played unfairly. I did not wish to cheat like him. He had no chance of winning had he actually played by the rules.” She said with an emotionless tone; the unimpressed look on her face told Klaus just how disgruntled she was at the loss.

“Are you a sore loser, Pia?”

“Kol is a cheat. End of discussion.” Klaus hid his laugh at the look on Pia’s face. She raised an eyebrow as she noticed a dimple beginning to appear. “Are you taking in pleasure in this?”

“No- no, of course not…” He cleared his throat and shook his head innocently as she rather violently took a gulp of champagne. Sometimes he wondered whether she truly was his age. Her competitive streak did sometimes cause her to act like a child… or like Kol, funnily enough. “I am sure you would have won if Kol had not cheated.”

“Yes, I would have.” She said sternly and gave no room for arguments.

“How about we change the subject on to more important matters? The reason why I have asked you here is to try and show you how much you mean to me. You are mine and I am yours, Pia.”

“It did not seem that way when I woke up to see that pretty blonde girl looking at me like I was a dirty little secret.”

“I- I will admit that I did not tell Caroline anything about you.”

“You did not tell anybody about me!”

“Yes, I know… I would like to say it was to protect you but it was also purely selfish on my part. I have created many enemies in my need to break the curse, and so if nobody knew of your existence or our connection, then they could not try and find you.”

“You could have woken me up. You only needed to remove the blade, Niko.”

“I know that as well. I cannot apologise enough for what I did, but even if I told you how sorry I was a million times it would still make no difference. You would still have lost centuries because of me. I daggered all of you to keep you safe. The enemies here pale in comparison to what would have happened had Mikael found us.” A stubborn tear dripped down his cheek as he imagined what Mikael would do should he find Pia now. Their father would make her torture painful and long just to spite him.

“Oh, Niko…” Pia placed her flute beside her and crawled into her brother’s lap; she nestled her face into his neck for a few moments before looking up at his sad expression. “I know that you thought you were doing what was best, even if none of us agree with your methods. You are right. No amount of apologies will bring us back the time that we missed so we will talk of this subject no longer.”

“But, Pia-”

“You said it yourself. What has been done cannot be undone. We need to live in the now. We have been apart for so long and yet all we seem to be doing is rehashing the past. From now on we shall work towards making our future brighter.”

“Do you mean it?”

“I said you needed to rebuild our trust… and this is a start. I cannot promise that things will change immediately…” Her nimble fingers traced around his jawline and up the right side of his face. Her action was sudden as she quickly wrapped her digits in his curls and pulled his head back. She knelt up in his lap and stared down at him. “This is a start. Do you understand?” She did not wish for him to think that this little gift, no matter how stunning it was, would make everything alright again.

“I understand, my love.”

“Good…” She whispered before lowering her lips to his. He remained frozen for a moment until she nipped at his bottom lip and released her grip on his hair. His hands quickly cupped the sides of her face and he tilted her head a little so that their mouths could move in perfect unison. Oh, she had forgotten how soft and plush his lips were. A small growl echoed out of her chest as his tongue gently prodded at hers. Deciding that enough was enough, Pia gripped onto his shoulders and pulled back with a smile upon her face.

“I have another gift for you.” He kept his face close to hers so that his lips brushed against hers whenever he spoke.

“You have already done so much, Niko.”

“Just one more thing, I promise.” Pia sat back on his lap and watched as Klaus carefully removed a small velvet pouch from his pocket. Some of the edges had frayed due to its age but it was mostly intact. Pia’s breath hitched as she recognised the familiar red fabric.

#the vampire diaries fanfiction #twin hearts #klaus mikaelson x oc #klaus mikaelson x ofc #tvd fanfiction #twin hearts masterlist #twin hearts fanfiction

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secondsonaym · 2 years

Text

The Vessel Project - Shamura's Foreword + Fragility [Narinder 1]

(read on Ao3 here)

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

This night marks one year since we came into power. Since we took the crowns for ourselves. Since we promised to do better than those we had overthrown.

I am a contemplative person, assuredly, but my mind does not desire to dwell on that time. Though much of it was spent in the throes of belief, of devotion, that all proved to be wasted energy. The ones we trusted had been using us… Using everyone.

How do you think it feels… To find out the ones you had put so much trust in, the ones who promised to make everything better… Were in fact, doing the exact opposite, all to uphold their status quo.

It’s devastating. And then, you pick up the pieces they dropped, and place the expectation on yourself to make something better from nothing but scraps.

How does one wrench something holy from something so broken?

I hate it.

However… I cannot simply let it sit in me untouched.

So I am writing this record, with the assistance of my siblings to fill in the gaps, in the hopes that having it in a physical form will quiet the growing itch in my brain.

I, Shamura, now bearer of the Purple Crown, bishop of War and Knowledge, commit this to writing:

This is the story of five children and five birds.

Five children who did not know of, nor deserved, the hell they would be put through.

And the five birds that orchestrated it.

This is the fall of the quintet that shall never be spoken of again… Lest the wounds they have marred the land with open back up.

And hopefully… This will be the rise of those who broke free of their blind devotion in order to make the right choice for everyone in the land.

Fragility

Shamura has turned the pen to me in order to start this recollection off. I suppose it is only fair, as I had ended up in the center of it all. Therefore, the actual beginning would start with my perspective.

I… Have not had the proper time to contemplate or process things myself, I must be frank. Unification of the sects has been very busy work, and the manner through which I acquired the Red Crown… Was harrowing.

So forgive me if I ramble.

It all began eight years ago, when I was but ten years old.

------

A hazy crackle split the air as I stared down the coast of the hill. Though it was the height of summer, the warmth I felt was not from the sun’s rays, but the burning town below.

The screams had stopped long ago. Everyone who had been in the town had either managed to flee or had succumbed to the heat and smoke, laying in the rubble and waiting to be found among the ashes at a later point.

I was not from the town, no. I had been in my spot since before the fire started, and I watched it light up in the early hours of the morning. Nobody noticed me, and I ignored the distant screams for help.

“What have you observed, Narinder?” Came the voice of the one who had started the blaze.

“All it took was a spark.” I replied, not turning away, still transfixed by the colors of the flames. “One small ember, and the entire thing went up.”

“Fragility,” He said, and I finally turned to face Him. “That is today’s lesson.”

The fire-starter stood in the shade of a nearby tree, His snaking neck twisted down so his head would not catch in the branches. Amidst the dry greens of the surrounding area, His snow-white plumage and red-patterned robe stood out, even in the shadows.

“Sir,” I began, my tail slowly waving as I considered my words, “How does fragility of a town apply to fragility of life?”

“Think about it, boy.” He said, “A small mistake causing a fire just like this one… And that’s all it takes to kill any number of people. There’s no telling when it would happen. The same can be applied to mortal bodies.”

“Bodies?”

“A strike to the head a bit too hard… A blow at just the right spot in the spine… A stab from somebody’s concealed weapon. Things one cannot predict, nor act fast enough to defend against. One false step, and one’s life is forfeit. Much like that stray spark.”

I looked back to the flames, pondering His words. I now understood just what He meant, but something gnawed at me.

“What of the survivors?” I finally asked.

“Mm? We let them live, of course. They won the draw. They were lucky. So they can carry on.”

Lucky… That word stuck with me. That’s what He had said when we first met.

I recalled why I was with Him to begin with: Raiders from the sect of Chaos, destroying the village I lived in, killing my family, and somehow leaving only me behind. He had taken notice, attracted by the death and finding me out in the wilderness all alone. He offered me a place by His side after hearing my story.

“You are a lucky boy,” He had said, “to have seen so much death without even a scratch.”

I had only been seven at the time, and in my grief refused to agree with Him. I did not believe my survival was lucky. It felt punishing. To be without those I had known my whole life.

But three years later, as I watched the town steadily crumble into dust, I knew that He was right.

The habits of life and death were fickle, and it was not that we channeled these forces by the act of existing, not at all. We pulled them up from the depths of the earth, and begged them to let us have the experience of the world. They wrote the terms of our stay, and when time was up, it was up. There was no fighting it.

That was how He operated. He did not take lives directly, and instead left it up to chance.

“I am not a facilitator of the whims of the world.” He had explained one night, when I had asked Him why He refused to stain His hands. “I am merely the one who rolls the dice. If Death wishes to take what it is owed at that moment… Then so be it.”

“It is time we head back to the temple.”

My attention snapped back to the present when He finally spoke, arching His neck out from under the cover of the leaves. He took a few steps back the way we had come from, only pausing to see if I was following.

I gave one final look to the scene below before I turned and hurried after Him.

We walked in silence for a fair distance, my mind mulling over today’s lesson. Not all of the things He taught me were through demonstrations such as this, but it was usually ones of this manner that left me thinking on things longer.

It was odd, His manner of teaching. He did not have me write notes or physically experiment with things around me, and instead merely had me observe the world as things happened. But I suppose that was to be expected, due to the nature of His sect.

Of the Old Faith, the sect of Death was small and quiet compared to the others. Our Lord did not ask for loud, expressive devotion, and merely requested we observe Life and Death in their equilibrium. For Death was not something you could shed belief in. It was always there.

Acknowledgement of Death is an inherent belief in it.

“It’s laughable, how they must reinforce their belief through acts of flagellation.” He had commented, when we had once caught sight of a ritual of War. “But I suppose without that reinforcement, it simply wouldn’t exist. It does not exist unless it is manifested by the living.”

The ritual was… brutal. A person, marked a ‘traitor’ by the rest, stood chained in place, while the worshippers of War circled them. One by one, a worshiper would approach and hold a knife, going for parts of the traitor as they screamed.

“No eyes to look to the illusions of the enemy,” Said the one who gouged them out.

“No ears to hear lies of the enemy,” Continued the next, slicing them free.

They continued like that.

“No tongue to parrot the falsehoods of the enemy,”

“No fingers to hold the enemy’s weapon,”

“No heart to be changed by the enemy’s fake promises.”

With that final chant, the knife went into the traitor’s chest, and they stopped crying out. Blood pooled, creeping into the crevices of the stone below them.

Though we watched, He did nothing. He did not need to mess with the body in order to claim the soul. It would come His way eventually.

“Narinder.” He suddenly spoke, once again pulling me from my thoughts. “Go hide in the shadows. Now.”

I did not question Him. Without a word, I stepped quickly and softly into the dense shade of the treeline, standing still while fixing my eyes on Him.

He stood still for a moment, long neck stretched towards the canopy. It would have been an unsettling sight, were you not used to Him.

“Zuriel, darling, what is it you want?” He asked, a lingering touch of irritation in His voice.

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” Came His voice, right back at Him. But I had been watching Him the whole time, and His mouth had not moved in that instance.

At once, a figure appeared out of the shade near Him, an unsettling mess of browns and greens, disorienting to the point I was unsure what I was looking at initially--But when I caught sight of the bright green diamond perched upon its head, I got a good idea as to the answer.

Zuriel, the bishop of Chaos. I had only ever heard of the other bishops through descriptions from Michael, but He had stressed that coming into contact with them was not a wise idea. No wonder He had told me to hide.

“Why are you spreading death in my land, Michael?” The new arrival asked, still in His voice.

It lowered its head, threading its beak into the scruff of plants it wore around its collar in a preening motion. It did not seem angry or impatient in any form, despite the question it had asked.

“You should know why.” He replied coolly. “Death is fickle. Death is random. It just felt right.”

“I do not care for your current fixation with fire.” It answered, eyes slowly raising back up to look at Him. “Reminds me too much of that time a few centuries ago where you had an interest in lightning strikes.”

“Hah,” He laughed, but His voice was hollow. “It is merely what I am channeling my energy into, Zuriel. Worried I am encroaching on your domain of Chaos?”

“Three years is but a blink to the likes of us, Michael.” It said. “That’s why we can tell something has changed in you. Something has felt so suddenly… Wrong.”

“Surely you did not come all this way to scold me.” Was all He said.

“There is a summons for you.” Came its response after a slight pause. The voice it was using was different now, steady and controlled with some strange metallic tone.

“Ah. From Raziel, why am I not surprised.” He sighed. “What does she want now?”

“All of the bishops are requested.” Zuriel continued in its new voice. “To discuss the plans of the vessel project.”

He was silent for a while, staring down at Zuriel and tilting His head at a few different angles. I saw Him steal a glance to where I hid, but He otherwise did not acknowledge me.

“Why am I to be summoned?” He finally asked. “Raziel knows full well that I am not interested in her latest plans for power.”

“You and Phanuel share these sentiments. But as long as our lives are, they are not eternal. We must consider other options. You are not expected to do anything, but you are required as a witness. Everyone else shall be bringing their selected disciples.”

He let out a slow sigh, neck straightening fully to the point it hurt my neck to look up at Him. He stared into the overhanging leaves for a while, before finally coiling His neck again, looking down at Zuriel.

“Very well. I assume the meeting place shall be Raziel’s temple?”

“Correct. At moonrise.”

“I will make my way when it is time, then. Thank you, Zuriel. May your day be as unpredictable as a rushing river .” He bowed His head, speaking the formal farewell of those in the Chaos sect--a gesture of politeness, on His part.

“ And may you find calmness in night’s mimicry of the end. ” Zuriel returned with the words of our own sect, and the voice of Michael.

And with that, Zuriel turned and vanished into the same shadows it had appeared from.

He stared after it for a while, and I could see spots on His neck where feathers were standing on end. He was angry, but trying His best not to show it. Whether that was out of mercy for me or that He simply didn’t find it productive, I did not know.

“Narinder.” He called after a long moment, turning His head in my direction. I stepped out of my hiding spot and closer to His side, eyes wide with curiosity but hesitant to say anything.

“Let us resume our return to the temple.” He mumbled. “When we get there, you are to study your verses for the rest of the evening. I have business to attend to, as you likely heard.”

“What is the ‘vessel project?’” I couldn’t help but ask, though immediately clapped a paw over my mouth. How foolish, I thought, for being so nosy! He was surely to reprimand me, for slipping back into what was probably my most frustrating habit when I was younger.

But He merely looked down at me for a moment, before pulling a taloned hand out from under His robe and setting it on my shoulder.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Narinder.” He said, repeating the phrase I had heard so often in the past three years. “It is best you remain oblivious… If just to this one thing. Now, let’s be on our way.”

We returned to the temple some time later, Michael using His power over shadows to make the otherwise long trek a matter of minutes. It was still early in the afternoon, but few others were present in the temple’s foyer. The ones who were, bowed their heads in reverence as He passed, though he paid them no mind, as he usually did.

“Welcome back, My Lord.”

As we reached the inner room of the temple, we found Ariel waiting for us. She was one of the acolytes in the temple, usually responsible for giving sermons to the followers and managing the temple’s upkeep. She also looked after me when Michael did not have any lessons..

“Sister Ariel,” Michael nodded towards her. “I have business to attend to with the other bishops. I will be leaving just before moonrise, so I trust you will be able to look after the temple in my absence?”

“Of course, My Lord.” Ariel agreed with a bow. “And what of Narinder?”

“His lesson for the day is finished.” Michael explained. “He is to study verses until it is time for bed.”

“Then I would be glad to assist him.” Ariel said as she turned to smile at me. I returned the gesture, though not as widely… Smiling just wasn’t something I was used to, is all.

“I will be in my quarters making preparations, should you need me.” He said as He turned and began to walk to one of the large doors at the back of the temple. “But see to it that I am not disturbed by anyone else.”

Ariel bowed until the door closed with its heavy thunk, and then turned to look at me once again.

“How was the lesson, Narinder?” She asked, moving to a nearby table and beginning to clear its clutter. She took a leather-bound book that sat between a pair of bookends and set it in the middle of the cleared space, before gesturing for me to take a seat on the bench in front of it.

“Today’s lesson was about fragility.” I said as I sat down. “He set off a spark, and it caught on the wind, catching on the thatch roof of a building, and then… The entire town burned. We watched it for a while.”

“Mm, quite a profound lesson to learn.” She hummed, opening the book and flipping a few of its pages. “And some of the townsfolk managed to escape, yes?”

“Mhm. Lord Michael said they were lucky.”

“That they were. But you recall one of the key tenets of Death, yes?”

“ Life and Death intertwine. Where Life sits, Death is perched on its shoulder. Where Death walks, Life follows in its footsteps. ” I recited.

Ariel looked down to me with slight smile, before taking her own seat next to me. She took another book from the bookends and began to carefully leaf through it, so I turned to the scripture she had set in front of me.

They were lines I was already quite familiar with, but considering my instructions from Michael, I looked over them anyway.

Do not worship Death without respect for it as well.

Those who do now acknowledge its place,

who see it as malleable,

go against the pillars of this land.

To bring back what has Died,

To make it Live again,

Is an affront to how things should be.

Memento mori. Invideo vitae.

Those last two phrases were at the end of many verses, and I had learned their meaning fairly quickly after arriving at the temple: Remember Death. Envy Life.

“Death is always present. You musn’t forget it, as horrible of a thing people may think it is.” Ariel had explained when I asked her upon first reading it. “Life is so much easier for people to embrace, that Death is often overshadowed in importance. If I were to explain it, I would say Death is jealous of how much people like Life. Death is not malicious, it merely exists. And yet everyone seems to fear it.”

“You’re odd.” Ariel’s voice suddenly broke in, snapping me from my thoughts.

“Wh-What do you mean?” I stammered, looking to her in surprise.

“There!” She said, pointing at me. “That! You hardly ever act like that anymore. Ten years old, and you already have the pensiveness of… Well, somebody as old as Lord Michael! And you hardly ever ask questions anymore… When you first arrived, it was kind of hard to get you to stop.”

Was that… Odd?

“I stopped asking questions because Lord Michael didn’t like them.” I mumbled, eyes turning back to the verses, but not really reading them. “He always seemed annoyed when I asked Him something. So I stopped.”

“Then I’ll need to speak to Him about that.” She sighed. “You’re the first child to really come to the temple, so I wouldn’t be surprised if He’s a bit… Inexperienced, dealing with children.

“Kids your age… Don’t really act like that, is all. Asking a lot of questions is normal. ” She continued, in a bit of an apologetic tone. “But I guess without other kids for you to hang out with, you’re instead picking things up from the adults around you.”

She set a gentle hand on my head, giving me a few slow pats. The gesture was kind--much like Ariel herself--but I didn’t exactly feel much assurance from it.

After a moment, she withdrew her hand and sighed, before going back to the book she had been looking through. Despite trying to focus on my assignment, I kept finding my eyes flicking back to her, noting flashes of color between the pages of her book.

“What… Are you doing?” I finally asked, having to push the question past my lips, which instinctively tried to seal shut any form of question.

Ariel smiled again, managing a laugh. She then moved her book over on the table so I could see, and I found my eyes widening in surprise.

Flowers… The pages were covered in several small flowers and petals, slightly dried and crinkly around the edges, but still recognizable. I carefully took the corner of the page and turned it, finding more of flowers of different species on the next page.

“It’s called flower pressing.” She explained as I slowly went through the book, taking time to examine each page. “You take a flower and press it between something, usually the pages of a book, to flatten it. It’s a method of preserving their beauty.”

“And Lord Michael is fine with this?” I couldn’t help but ask. Wouldn’t something like this be considered against the teachings of Death? To keep something past its life?

“Yes.” She answered. “In fact, He is the one who suggested it to me, when I expressed my interest in the blooms. The flowers are very much dead, Narinder, but they can still be acknowledged and admired even past that.”

“Oh.” Was all I could really say in response.

I flipped through a few more pages, before pausing on one in particular, eyes shifting between it and Ariel’s clothing. The same bright red flowers she wore on her hip and collar were pressed on a page, striking against the pale color of the paper.

“These are the same ones as your…”

“They’re called camellias. There’s many of them on the temple grounds… I think they’re my personal favorite.”

“They’re pretty.” I said with a nod, giving the book one last glance before closing it and sliding it back in her direction. “Thank you for letting me look.”

“You’re welcome, Narinder.” Ariel said. “Perhaps you’d like to try it yourself at some point?”

“Maybe.” Was all I said in response. I didn’t exactly see the point in the hobby other than it being, well, a hobby, so it wasn’t much to my interest.

I was about to turn back to my verses, when a sound split the air. Clutching my stomach, my fur stood on end, and my face flushed in embarrassment.

“Narinder…” Ariel said, though her voice lacked any hostility. “When’s the last time you ate?”

I lowered my head, hunching until my shoulders were level with my face.

“Um… I had breakfast before Lord Michael and I left.”

“And you were out all day.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t eat anything while you were out?”

“No.”

Ariel let out a loud sigh, brow furrowing slightly.

“Of course. Because He doesn’t get hungry, so it wouldn’t cross His mind that--” She started to grumble, before shaking her head to calm herself.

She stood up from her seat, pushing her book of flowers aside before reaching out for my hand. I took it and stood up after her, and she then began to lead me in the direction of the temple’s kitchen.

“Let’s get you some dinner, then. Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

“Do we have any squid?” I couldn’t help but ask, eyes lighting up.

“Of course you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to have some.” She laughed.

“It’s my favorite.”

“I know, I’m just teasing, dear. Well, let’s see if we can find any.”

#usurper au #ch5 #there are so many paragraph indents idk why i was just copy/pasting the html from ao3 #sO IF IT LOOKS. BAD. TEXT-WISE? I RECOMMEND READING ON AO3.#shamura #narinder #michael #zuriel #ariel #it doesn't look terrible on the desktop blog page at least

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