#like others long sleeping amidst Infinity
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puppetmaster13u · 1 year ago
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Prompt 137
 What happens after a Halfa dies? What happens when their bodies of flesh can no longer hold the power of their soul? What happens when they’re no longer alive despite the fact they can never truly die?
 What happens when their soul finishes incubating in its cocoon of meat and bone that’s warped and twisted over an immeasurable amount of time? When the soul leaves a body that refuses to stay down because death is not an option? 
 What happens when a Halfa finishes incubating in their first form, and splits? What happens when mortals not understanding what they’re doing in their hubris, causes one to do so early? 
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lcsthings · 2 years ago
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@theseancekid​ 
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HUMAN EMOTIONS HAVE ALWAYS FASCINATED MORPHEUS. How one can go from blissfully happy, to behaving as if their entire world is in ruins, always seemed a novelty to him. When one lives as long as the Endless, fickle things like sorrow, longing, and remorse are cast aside. But while he & most his siblings have remained stagnant through the eons, Death and Destiny did not; one had succumbed to the crushing weight of infinity to the point of disappearing altogether, never to be heard from again — and the other, Death, had grown kinder. A wellspring of compassion despite all the disdain mortals held for her. After his imprisonment, after a day of walking in her path, Dream struggles with his own haunting sentiments.
HE TRIES, PERHAPS IN VAIN, TO PUT THIS DREAMER’S WELL-BEING FIRST — that, yes, while Klaus Hargreeves threatens the tedious harmony of his realm, he is still just a mortal. The boy made mistakes in his mourning. And has Dream not done the same before? Even now, a lost lover he condemns is sealed in the depths of Hell simply because she had forsaken his offer of eternity. In his own way, Morpheus pities Klaus, enough to let those marked hands of his beat upon his chest.
THE ASSUALT DOES NOT HURT. Though Klaus may strike at him with all his might, Dream does not move an inch, nor does his expression reveal discomfort. Dark eyes remain fixed upon Klaus’ face, remaining only a second before they shift beyond him to the spot where David once was. “This is not my doing, spirit walker,” the Lord Shaper’s voice is deep but soft ( the way a lullaby ought to be sung, the way a warm glass of milk soothes tired heads & lulls to sleep ), yet it does not waver amidst the onslaught of the mortal’s agony. “You’ve pulled that soul from the golden fields into the dreaming, keeping him shackled here. You’ve done so before, Klaus Hargreeves. I had thought, perhaps, it a mere aberration at first glance, but now I am certain: your abilities, your longing — you are the cause.”
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IT’S HARD TO DISCERN WHAT HAPPENS NEXT TO THE UNTRAINED EYE, or perhaps nothing happened at all save for a reformation of a dream — but one moment Morpheus is there, & the next he is standing behind Klaus, and nothing but the sound of sand flowing freely in an hourglass alerting of his movement. “I did nothing. I am merely the shaper, the dream maker. This is my realm, Klaus Hargreeves, and oft a dreamer dreams of a loved one to reminisce, but you… You have done something else entirely. You must be made aware, for if this should continue, I will be forced to intervene.”
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saiakv · 8 months ago
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Every time they've had their ill-fated meetings, Satoru had resisted the urge to give chase. Like that day of their first final parting, Suguru's back retreating through the crowd as he refused to ask Satoru to join him and Satoru was incapable of asking Suguru to stay, Today he'd pour his pain into that gap between them, and it'd been acknowledged. It wouldn't change anything and it would not bring relief, but it was all he had needed.
He did not resist the urge today.
It was mere hours later when a crater would appear in the courtyard with him at its heart. He immediately confirmed the accuracy of his location from the thick swirl of his own residuals in the air, carried here through his freshly spilt blood.
He made for Suguru's location with single minded purpose, ignoring the confusion and alarm of any that might have spotted him on the way. He was clean now, in fresh clothes, bearing no marks of the cruel lesson he'd forced upon Suguru not so long ago. The moment he laid eyes on his friend, a barrier sprung forth around them with conditions focused on keeping others out.
"Fine, we'll do it your way. I'll try something different."
He closed the gap between them with unhurried calm, not stopping once they were close enough to touch, simply shoving Suguru back to slam into the walls of the barrier. The next moment he had Suguru's wrist pinned against the surface at his sides, no gentle concern for the existing bruise, their faces level, eyes locked.
If you kept praying for self-destruction, sometimes the gods would answer.
"Do you wish to die so badly?"
House of the Children of the Star, 6:57am
His personal relationship to Tokyo Tech was loosely understood by the members of his group. They knew Suguru was a young talent turned drop out, that he had been under Yaga's superintendence and most of them knew that Satoru Gojo had been of the same year. Granted, all of them knew who Satoru Gojo was. The unmistakable gravitas of his emerging presence was enough to point every suspicion to the strongest being of this world, when he suddenly emerged amidst the temple's atrium. Like a herald of the divine burdened with some heavenly message; the halo of Infinity illuminates him as a messiah. No one needed to see Suguru's blanched expression to realize who the stranger was.
He had been amidst the process of washing up, mundanely preparing to settle after a long night; sleep would not find him easy under daylight, but his soul itself craved it. The tips to his hair had still been moist when he stepped outside for a smoke break — and he could not have been more thankful to have done so in that moment. The girls were inside. Satoru appeared in a flash that gave no prior readings, so the element of surprise bought him all the time in the world to open the barrier and before he had managed to blink even, Suguru felt the air leave his lungs and a sudden bite over his wrist.
And at once, they find peace; like dipping underwater. The panicked screams of monkeys, Manami's gasp, the distant noise from the girl's TV reality show playing — it all becomes an ambience to the cadence of his thrumming heart. He looks to the eyes that threaten to swallow him whole and then to those lips that he swears have cursed him as though to read Satoru's question. He cuts in with a sharper tone; defiant, even when he is the one whose wrist is bruising worse.
❝ There's children here. Are you on a power trip, Satoru? ❞ Violets dart from one celestial field to the other, but it is not to be lost in them. Rather, he finds the memory of that stupid joke they had about Satoru activating his powers when his eyes glowed like some manga cliché; and that time a little girl on the street pointed at him and said 'owl'. Suguru feels his own gaze weigh heavier upon the reminiscence.
Slowly but surely, coarse fingerpads faintly brush over pale skin as he begins to fidget his way out of the hold. But it comes off as half-hearted. His free hand moves between them, resting on his adversary's chest. Once again time stops as though frozen before the farcical hubris that ensues; Suguru swallows every notion of an apology and lets the thunder in him flare. You cannot hope to outrun an omen; and this is exactly what they have been doing.
His palm finds the other's chest, pressing flat over Satoru's revived heartbeat as he leans closer; in that same way they often did when they opted to cheat their way out of staring matches back then. Until his weight is on his toes and his chin brushes over a hunched shoulder. His eye crinkles, a smile plays on his lips when he brings them over the other's ear to let the words fall like the first leaves of an autumn that never came for them.
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❝ You're not here to kill me. So don't be a tease. ❞
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iluffyouxo · 3 years ago
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𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙖 || 𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤
Jujutsu Kaisen — Satorū Gojō X black, female OC
Satorū Gojō, the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer that ever was and to ever will be—not to mention his unrivaled beauty. I chuckle at the thought, mouth hidden behind my hand as my shoulders slightly shake in amusement. It causes Satorū to slightly stur in his sleep. Mumbling something along the lines of “what’s so funny” before drifting back off into dreamland.
Though, these facts were true, Satorū was a cocky bastard, and an obnoxious one at that. His personality was as boisterous as that of an innocent child. And, though, I couldn’t necessarily call Satorū—of all people—innocent, the man was most certainly child-like.
And his bubbly laughter and distasteful jokes sent a trickle of warmth down from the tips of my toes to the very core of my brain. In my eyes he was extremely great company to have around. Most others would have to disagree with me on that. Nanami included.
But, most others weren’t in love with the man in question, now, were they?
It didn’t happen suddenly, there was no big revelation. In fact, I had let the feelings fester before I gradually realized that I had fallen in love with my comrade. He was my best friend but, I certainly wasn’t his (that title rightfully belonged elsewhere). And I had thought my feelings unrequited…I couldn’t have been further from the truth.
It was some time before his twenty-first birthday—a few weeks before, if I’m remembering correctly—that I had been assigned on a mission to hunt down a special grade curse overseas. In retrospect my abilities dwarfed in comparison to Satorū’s, but I was easily the second strongest in the jujutsu world. Even Geto refused to overstep his boundaries with me.
Just like that I had spent five more years than expected in Hong Kong, China. A place where negative energy is embedded into the ground of the beautiful city.
Amidst my eventual return I was told Suguru Geto had been killed by the very hands of his best friend a few months prior, the school looked different and there were many new sorcerers-in-training that I had to get to know. I favored the pink haired boy with the contagious smile.
Satorū, however, was missing.
The one person I wanted to see was nowhere to be found. Like a game of hide and seek I gave up trying to search for him, and I noticed (halfway through the journey to my old apartment) that I had been sulking the whole way home. And I couldn’t help but to laugh at myself.
After all these years, my feelings have not deteriorated…not even a little bit.
“There you are…I’ve been looking for you.” He spoke with a grin in his soothing voice. I turned to meet his blueberry gaze, the snowy tips of his hair swaying in the light evening breeze. “Satorū,” I murmured. I’m responded with a slight upturn of his lips as he exhaled a deep chuckle. “I thought I told you to drop the formalities? Hmm?” I nod. “Yes, of course; it’s been so long, I had forgotten. Sorry.”
I had tried my hardest to keep my voice from cracking, but Satorū knew me like the back of his hand, therefore, he saw right through my façade. His grin fell into an expression of concern as his long strides finally closed the gap between us. “Seong, what’s wrong?”
I sniffed to keep myself from crying before pulling him in close. “I just…really missed you.” I felt the force of another chuckle rumble in his chest. He smelled of Sea spray and fresh blood, a hint of his dull shower gel mixed in. “I missed you, too.”
A few weeks later he showed up at my doorstep drenched in the pouring rain of the night’s storm. “Satorū? You’re soaked!” I pulled him by his wrist and forced him inside. “Come take a shower before you catch a cold! Why’d you drop your infinity barrier? Did something happen?” I questioned him for at least a minute without letting him get a word in, stripping him of his jacket and shoes. He didn’t say anything as I shoved him into the bathroom.
“Megumi, could you let Satorū borrow some clothes?”
Fushiguro has lived with me for as long as I could remember. Satorū had trusted him within my care. And I’ve raised him ever since. It’s been a wonder to watch him grow. Though, now that he’s a student whom lives on school grounds, he only comes to stay on the weekends (sometimes inviting Yuuji and Nobara).
“Ms. Naito I don’t think Gojō can fit my clothes,” his voice is bored and his words are drawled out as if he’d just woken up from a nap. “What is he doing here, anyways? Can’t he go home and take a shower?” Despite Megumi’s complaints, he handed me a pair of his longest pants and biggest sweater that he owned.
Smiling I placed a thankful kiss upon his forehead and he shuffled back to his room with a gentle blush.
It was then that I heard the familiar sound of running water and my grin faltered. Satorū had actually listened to me without making a fuss.
Something was definitely wrong. I had knocked before opening the door, placing the clothes down on the counter and picking up his soaked ones from off the floor, “I’ll be in the kitchen, okay?”
After tossing his clothes into the washer I decided to bake a strawberry and kiwi cake. Sweets always seemed to cheer up the strongest, along with my undivided attention. It wasn’t until I was almost done mixing the different batters that he walked up to me with bloodshot and red rimmed eyes. Dropping my previous task to rush to his side I quickly began to ask him what was wrong again. This time I got an answer. With a set of soft lips pressed against my chapped ones.
There was no “I love you”, there was no big confession. Just a chaste kiss to tell me all I needed to know. I smiled against his mouth. “Yeah, me, too.”
I chuckle at the memory again as he clings tight to my waste, his head lay upon my chest. Satorū was no romantic, far from it, really. But, every morning when I place a kiss on the tips of his hair, his eyes flutter open and I’m met with the Sea even before the sun arises. “Good morning, Gojō.”
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a-long-walk-in-the-forest · 4 years ago
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Genjutsu
• Definition
Hypnosis and illusionism to confuse the mind…
It’s some kind of hypnotic technique that drags the target’s mind to an illusory world and may cause confusion or physical/mental exhaustion. The main difference from other jutsu is that it does not directly affect the user’s body. There are many types of Genjutsu that may be used to attack or give a handicap to those who use them.
Advantages: It’s hard to detect who used it. Not only that, there can be many targets all at once.
Disadvantages: Prolonged use exhausts the user and it hardly deals physical damage to the target.
Source: first databook
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• Doesn’t just cause illusions but can also be used to control people to some extent (we can probably guess the extent of this control by what the cranial nerves can do)
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• Cranial nerves
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1. The olfactory nerve transmits sensory information to your brain regarding smells that you encounter. Nerve signals are sent to areas of your brain concerned with memory and recognition of smells.
2. The optic nerve is the sensory nerve that involves vision. The information received by your rods (black and white vision and night vision) and cones (colour vision) is transmitted from your retina to your optic nerve. 
3. The oculomotor nerve has two different motor functions: muscle function and pupil response.
 Muscle function. Your oculomotor nerve provides motor function to four of the six muscles around your eyes. These muscles help your eyes move and focus on objects.
 Pupil response. It also helps to control the size of your pupil as it responds to light.
4. The trochlear nerve controls your superior oblique muscle. This is the muscle that’s responsible for downward, outward, and inward eye movements.
5. The trigeminal nerve is the largest of your cranial nerves and has both sensory and motor functions.The trigeminal nerve has three divisions, which are:
 Ophthalmic. The ophthalmic division sends sensory information from the upper part of your face, including your forehead, scalp, and upper eyelids.
 Maxillary. This division communicates sensory information from the middle part of your face, including your cheeks, upper lip, and nasal cavity.
 Mandibular. The mandibular division has both a sensory and a motor function. It sends sensory information from your ears, lower lip, and chin. It also controls the movement of muscles within your jaw and ear.
6. The abducens nerve controls another muscle that’s associated with eye movement, called the lateral rectus muscle. This muscle is involved in outward eye movement.
7. The facial nerve provides both sensory and motor functions, including:
 moving muscles used for facial expressions as well as some muscles in your jaw
 providing a sense of taste for most of your tongue
 supplying glands in your head or neck area, such as salivary glands and tear-producing glands
 communicating sensations from the outer parts of your ear
8. Your vestibulocochlear nerve has sensory functions involving hearing and balance. It consists of two parts, the cochlear portion and vestibular portion:
 Cochlear portion. Specialized cells within your ear detect vibrations from sound based off of the sound’s loudness and pitch. This generates nerve impulses that are transmitted to the cochlear nerve.
 Vestibular portion. Another set of special cells in this portion can track both linear and rotational movements of your head. This information is transmitted to the vestibular nerve and used to adjust your balance and equilibrium.
9. The glossopharyngeal nerve has both motor and sensory functions, including:
sending sensory information from your sinuses, the back of your throat, parts of your inner ear, and the back part of your tongue
 providing a sense of taste for the back part of your tongue
 stimulating voluntary movement of a muscle in the back of your throat called the stylopharyngeus
10. The vagus nerve is a very diverse nerve. It has both sensory and motor functions, including:
communicating sensation information from your ear canal and parts of your throat
sending sensory information from organs in your chest and trunk, such as your heart and intestines
allowing motor control of muscles in your throat
stimulating the muscles of organs in your chest and trunk, including those that move food through your digestive tract (peristalsis)
providing a sense of taste near the root of your tongue
11. Your accessory nerve is a motor nerve that controls the muscles in your neck. These muscles allow you to rotate, flex, and extend your neck and shoulders.
12. Your hypoglossal nerve is the 12th cranial nerve which is responsible for the movement of most of the muscles in your tongue.
•Taught during latter years in the academy
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Stuff they learn in all years: taijutsu, ninjutsu
Stuff they learn in early years: senjutsu
Stuff they learn in later years: genjutsu
• Getting rid of it
Chakra disturbance (can be done by the person under the illusion or someone else). 
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Chakra disturbances can be caused through any of the senses, sight, hearing, smell, taste or touch. It can also be done using physical pain.
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• Examples
First databook:
1. Mist Servant Technique (Kasumi Juusha no Jutsu)
•Genjutsu, D-rank, Supplementary The tenebrous phantoms arise from the fog and multiply endlessly!! The somber, uncanny shinobi phantoms appear out of trees and rocks one after the other, cornering the enemy. They all move sluggishly, but each time one of them receives a blow it multiplies, making the fog-dwelling ghost part quite the real article. There’s definitely no escape from those black shinobi phantoms…
2. Temple of Nirvana Technique (Nehan Shouja no Jutsu)
• Genjutsu, A-rank, Supplementary, Close to long range Fluttering in the air, the white feathers lure people into a realm of torpor!! A Genjutsu that generates a fluttering rain of sleep-inducing, illusory white feathers. Whoever sees them as they fall, piling up and covering the whole target area will experience Eden-like bliss and fall into a state of tranquil slumber. No matter how much one resists the hypnotic spell the desire to sleep is instinctive, and there’s no fighting it!!
3. Demonic Illusion: False Surroundings Technique (Magen: Kokoni Arazu no Jutsu)
• Genjutsu, C-rank, Supplementary, All ranges A thin layer of deception covering all that the eye can see!! A Genjutsu that allows one to trick others into mistaking the place they’re in for another. This technique’s main feature is that it can be cast over an extensive surface, therefore any and all who step into the illusion’s area of effect will fall under the spell. That said, it might not work so well on people who are well-versed or otherwise skilled in Genjutsu.
4. Demonic Illusion: Hell Viewing Technique (Magen: Narakumi no Jutsu)
• Genjutsu, D-rank, Supplementary, Close range This jutsu reveals the fears that dwell inside people’s hearts!! Whether they are aware of it or not themselves doesn’t matter: pictured in the bottom of their hearts, everyone has an image of the one thing they least want to ever see. This Genjutsu is a technique that draws forth such an image from within the heart and has one mistake it for reality. In other words, if the mental image is a gruesome one, the shock will be accordingly great.
Second databook:
1. Bringer-of-Darkness Technique (Kokuangyou no Jutsu)
• Genjutsu, A-rank, Supplementary, Mid to long range Everything falls into a tenebrous hellhole! Inside the cruel obscurity, there is no room for countermeasures!! A Genjutsu which exerts an hallucinatory effect upon the eyesight, stealing all light away. A world of darkness, as if a thick, jet-black curtain had been dropped. No matter how skilled someone is, they have no option besides turning into sitting ducks…
2. Tsukuyomi
• Genjutsu, Kekkei Genkai, Supplementary, Close range An inner hell as eternal as Heaven and Earth. The grip held onto the principles of all creation thoroughly annihilates one’s heart and soul!! Amidst the insight and hypnosis possessed by Sharingan, is a supreme Genjutsu, born from the aforementioned hypnosis: Tsukuyomi. Originally, people on the face of the Earth live bound by limitations like time, gravity, and space; and how people exert their abilities within those restrictions is what separates the victors from the vanquished. But in the mental world where the caster drags their opponent, the Tsukuyomi jutsu gives them control over those very limitations! Namely, this means inside the Genjutsu, the physical world’s common sense is completely irrelevant and opposing the caster is impossible. Somebody caught into the Tsukuyomi find themselves into a strange world of infinity, their fate entirely lying inside the caster’s hands. Some time, they will undergo the torments of Hell, and some other time, they will be repeatedly shown a horrendous, hellish picture of agony and mayhem, with no idea of when either of those will end. As a result, the poor prisoner can only wait until the collapse of their psyches…!! Even a body made of iron or the speed of light are powerless before this jutsu, which is the reason why it is feared as the most powerful.
3. Demonic Illusion: Mirror Heaven and Earth Change (Magen: Kyou Tenchi-ten)
• Genjutsu, Kekkei Genkai, Supplementary, Close range The mechanics of a false image is duplicated by these eyes, its effects largely turned back onto the enemy!! One decrypts a Genjutsu that has been applied onto them, and casts back a jutsu with identical effects onto the opponent!! It’s a form of illusion reversal, but in order to instantly read through a jutsu and cast it in return, the Sharingan’s power is necessary. As Genjutsu is initially used to confuse the enemy, this technique which sends it right back to its caster deals a high amount of mental damage, more than anything else. Every half-baked Genjutsu will fall prey to the mirror that is Sharingan!!
4. Demonic Illusion: Tree Binding Death (Magen: Jubaku Satsu)
• Genjutsu, B-rank, Supplementary, Close range Ensnared and captured. Such is the nefarious influence of the dire tree!! One of the Genjutsu that have been passed along since ancient times in Konoha. One is completely robbed of their mobility as they see the mirage of a tree coiling itself around them! Given that the subject remains conscious, this jutsu proves extremely efficient for information-gathering.
5. Demonic Flute: illusionary warriors’ manipulation melody
• Genjutsu, B-rank, Supplementary The melody of death that controls three demons Tayuya’s ninjutsu that controls three demons that have been summoned with the sound of the flute. Tune varies according to behavior pattern of demons and gets complex to avoid getting analyzed.
6. Demonic Flute: Phantom Sound Chains (Mateki: Mugen Onsa)
• Genjutsu, B-rank, Supplementary, All ranges The sound of the flute beckons hellish captivity. Restraining the limbs and taking all freedom away!! One of the Genjutsu that rely on the sound of the flute. Whoever hears it will be assailed by the vivid sensation that their limbs have been fastened with sturdy ropes, thus becoming unable to move about freely. At the same time, they are fed morbid hallucinations, which makes it also possible to run them down mentally. Given that the means of transmission is sound-based, it has a large range of effectiveness, on top of which it can be applied even without knowledge of the enemy’s position, which makes for an exceedingly convenient jutsu.
7. Bringer-of-Darkness Technique (Kokuangyou no Jutsu)
• Genjutsu, A-rank, Supplementary, Mid to long range Everything falls into a tenebrous hellhole! Inside the cruel obscurity, there is no room for countermeasures!! A Genjutsu which exerts an hallucinatory effect upon the eyesight, stealing all light away. A world of darkness, as if a thick, jet-black curtain had been dropped. No matter how skilled someone is, they have no option besides turning into sitting ducks…
Third databook: Won’t include because I cannot be bothered to type it out.
Fourth databook:
1. Izanagi
• Genjutsu, Kekkei Genkai, Defensive, Close to mid range The forbidden Doujutsu that connects illusion and reality! During battles where defeat was not an option, this great eye power made its name, the power that was used by the Uchiha Clan for a long time. It is activated by making the [hand] seals of the Rabbit, Boar, and Ram while the user has the Sharingan active. From there, the jutsu erases any harmful reality to the user for a brief moment and then replaces it with a reality in favour of the user, helping the user to solve complicated situations. The duration that the jutsu is active depends on the user’s power capacity. It is a dangerous Doujutsu that leaves the user practically invincible. By using it, the user risks blindness. He hides even death within an illusion, for the duration of the jutsu.
2. Izanami
• Genjutsu, Kekkei Genkai, Supplementary, Close range The forbidden Doujutsu that creates an infinite cycle that decides the destiny!! A scene of an opponent’s action is recorded by the user’s Doujutsu, then an identical scene needs to be recreated. The opponent is then trapped infinitely in a loop between the first and second scenes that were recorded. To escape this Genjutsu, the victim must accept his original destiny. Reforming the conduct allows someone to escape Genjutsu.
3. Kotoamatsukami
• Genjutsu, Kekkei Genkai, Supplementary, All ranges The eye dominates the consciousness, transforming the one who sees into a pawn. The Mangekyou Sharingan of Uchiha Shisui uses the strongest Genjutsu. The user exerts influence on the opponent, manipulating his actions without his being aware of it. Victory can be achieved without a battle, a wonderful jutsu. The constraints of Impure World Reincarnation were rewritten by their power. The Sharingan that Danzou stole from Shisui was used to manipulate Mifune in order to secretly dominate the conference of the Five Kage.
4. Infinite Tsukuyomi (Mugen Tsukuyomi)
• Genjutsu, Kekkei Moura, Supplementary, All ranges The divine eye observes all things of creation, caught in this prison of infinite dreams!! On a full moon night, the Rinne-Sharingan, capable of manipulating the world, is reflected on the moon, and then its light illuminates people on earth, placing them in eternal Genjutsu… The light emitted by this technique can cross obstacles, so even if a person is hiding in a closed place, he cannot escape! Those who have fallen into infinite dreams are enveloped by the roots of the God Tree, which have been expanded on a global scale by God: Nativity of a World of Tress, and have their chakra sucked into eternity. The circular eye floating on the moon!! The moon turns into a Rinne-Sharingan, putting all of humanity into a Genjutsu! Rinnegan’s appearance appears in the eyes of those affected by jutsu. Those involved in jutsu are trapped by trees and their chakra is absorbed.
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ofstarsandfireflies · 4 years ago
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Heyo! This is another fic I was trying to make work but just couldn’t.
Hope you guys enjoy it, it’s been sitting in my phone for a year and a half hehe
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Inception -
Leonardo DiCaprio is in your dreams, stealing your secrets!
“I need your help.”
Stephen is instantly sitting up in his chair as Tony tells him about the nightmares, and how they come every night in the form of the worst experiences of his life.
How he just wants to be able to sleep.
So, Stephen says he’ll help him.
He’ll go into his these nightmares and find out what is causing them.
The first night, Stephen finds himself in a military camp somewhere in a desert.
As he moves, taking in their weapons and trying to place where he could be, he sees the crates with the old Stark Industries logo on them.
And then he noticed the cave.
He slips inside, being careful not to bump into any of the ‘people’ here and give away his presence.
He’s barely taken more than a couple of steps when the screaming starts, echoing around him and making a cold sweat break out all over his skin, every working nerve in his body yelling at him to run and help while his legs lock.
Tony was the one who was screaming.
He felt the cloak push into his back and suddenly he was running, calling out for Tony to answer him, twists and turns leading him to the man surrounded by pieces of his first Iron Man armour.
Stephen just stops and stares.
He had a blue glow eminating from under the black tank top he was wearing, and the orange glow from the pits he’d been smithing at was bouncing off of the sweat on his arms.
Stephen was transfixed by the sight.
Tony must have sensed someone staring at him because a confused expression crossed his face as he surveyes the room, his eyes settling on Stephen.
He stands from the table, leaning on it for support as Stephen moved cautiously to him.
Tony was visibly shaking, and when Stephen placed his hands on the muscular shoulders, they sag instantly as he leans into Stephen’s chest, the Sorcerer’s arms winding around him.
Tony was rambling on about what he’d give to Stephen if he got him out of here, whatever he wanted, Tony would give to him just as long as Stephen saved him from this hell.
Stephen placed his hands on Tony’s face and brought it up, big teary eyes looking up at him, sparkling in the orange of the embers and desperate.
Stephen wanted to say so many things to comfort him.
He wanted to tell him so many things of how he felt.
Had always felt.
Instead, he leant in and touched his lips to Tony’s, who melted instantly against him, his hands gripping his robes to prevent him from pulling away from what he’d started.
If this was the price he had to pay for Stephen’s help, Tony was up for it.
But as soon as he had Tony trapped between himself and the table, the world around them began to alter and shift, hazing in and out before everything around them snapped back to reality.
Stephen expected Tony to throw himself away from him, to yell at him for what he’d done.
But it didn’t happen.
Stephen was panting, on all fours on the ground, and Tony was right beside him looking at him with those big brown eyes full of concern.
He didn’t remember.
Maybe that was for the best.
The second night saw him in Stark Tower.
Well this wasn’t as traumatising as the previous nightmare, so why would this be considered one?
Stephen looked around at Tony, who was dressed casually in jeans and a black sabbath shirt, a few years older than the previous Tony he had met.
Tony had a hopeful spark in his eyes as he told Stephen to do whatever he had done last time to end this dream too.
That hopeful spark slowly faded when Stephen told him he hadn’t used magic to end the nightmare, replaced by narrowed scrutiny.
He’d asked Stephen for his help to end these things, not to use for his own enjoyment because he couldn’t have the real Tony.
Stephen rolled his eyes, really not wanting to get all personal about his mixed up feelings with this dream version, when the entire tower began to shake.
Pictures fell from the walls and Tony’s liquor cabinet smashed everywhere as the two in the tower grabbed hold of the other to keep themselves balanced.
Tony really didn’t care what Stephen did in the previous dream, he just needed him to do that again so he could wake up.
And when Stephen finally tells him exactly how he had woken him up, the floor beneath them splinters and cracks and dust rains down on them from the ceiling.
Tony’s snide comment of it not being very good if he didn’t remember it had Stephen turning as bright a shade as his cloak, his own remark about how it was a younger version of Tony making this one’s eyebrows shoot up.
The tower groaned loudly and shook forcing Tony into action as he grabbed the sorcerer, pulling him hastily in for a kiss, Stephen losing his footing as they crashed to the ground.
And the shaking stopped.
Tony pulled out of the kiss first, looking around him.
Had it worked?
No sooner had the thought entered his mind, the floor they were laying on caved in, and beneath them wasn’t another room, but the infinite void of space.
Stephen grabbed Tony as the cloak around his shoulders kept them afloat.
A portal of New York City opened before them, and Stephen suddenly realised where and when he was.
It was the Chitari attack.
He’d still been a doctor at this time.
And that’s when he heard it.
Tony was muttering “Not again...Not again...” to himself over and over and Stephen could feel his chest rising and falling against his own far too quickly.
He tried calling his name but Tony didn’t hear him. He forced him to look up at him, those brown eyes he loved so much staring right through him.
All the while muttering “Not again...”
There was nothing he could do except hold him.
The third dream was one Stephen had heard about.
Tony was laying on the ground, chest plate almost cracked in half and he didn’t seem at all interested or amused by the Sorcerer’s late arrival.
Where was he when he needed him at the airport, when Rhodey was hurt?
Where was he when he needed him ten minutes ago, when Rogers and Barnes left?
Where was he when Tony needed him ever?
Stephen didn’t understand, they hadn’t even known each other at this point in their lives.
But that was Tony’s argument, wasn’t it?
Stephen had held an Infinity Stone that could control time and hadn’t even bothered to meet Tony earlier.
To be on his side when the shit hit the fan and Rogers got his american underpants in a twist over protecting a murderer.
Stephen had never heard Tony this angry before.
He knew their fights could get out of hand sometimes, and he knew they had each said some things when tempers flared, but it was never about blaming the other for something out of their control.
Then he was back.
Tony was still asleep, which he was grateful for.
He didn’t think he could face him after that.
Stephen knew this place.
He’d been here a few years ago.
Tony sat by himself amidst the red sand and rock, fragmented peices of the Iron Man suit still hanging off of his body and specks of ash blowing away from him.
Stephen stepped forward, making Tony look up.
His eyes were red and his face shining with tears.
His eyes widened however, when they found Stephen’s and spoke his name in a whispered disbelief.
Tony got unsteadily to his feet, holding his side.
Stephen knew he should leave, that he shouldn’t try to tamper with this nightmare, but his legs were moving by themselves, bringing him closer to Tony.
Tony began shaking his head, looking away from him back to where he’d been sitting, before mentioning how if Stephen was here...Peter was too right?
Stephen’s brain was screaming at him to abort this mission.
But he couldn’t.
He’d made a promise to Tony that he would stop these nightmares.
He reached for him, and Tony allowed him to pull him into his arms, asking Stephen where Peter was.
Tony’s voice was so small, so devoid of life.
He looked up at him, his eyes brimming with tears as he struggled to hold them back.
How could he explain?
He’d done so with the previous versions of Tony but this one...would he believe him? Would he know what Stephen was telling him?
This version was so utterly broken by what this nightmare was.
So what had the real Tony Stark been like when this had actually happened?
When their relationship was nothing more than putting up with one another?
Had Tony mourned him?
Was Tony as lost then as he was now?
Stephen could only hold the dreamer as his grief became too much for him and he broke down in his arms, Stephen’s robes becoming soaked as Tony cried into them.
What had he done to this man?
Why did he continue to torment him and remind him of this moment with his very presence?
Because they were friends?
Because he loved him?
Stephen wiped away the never ending tears, the cloak lending its support and warmth to the crying man as well.
“It should have been me.” Tony sobbed, “It should have been me not him.”
Stephen pulled himself out of the dream, took one look at Tony, and left without a word.
He knew what he had to do now.
He knew what he was up against.
Who he was up against.
So when it came time to enter the final dream, Stephen was not prepared for what he saw.
Black.
Surrounding the two of them was just black, with the eerie feeling they were being watched.
But Stephen knew.
In a way, he’d always known.
Whatever wanted him here had been using Tony to draw him in.
Well not anymore.
This was their fifth time, the fifth dream reincarnation of Tony Stark he had met.
He’d fought with his anger, gazed into distant eyes of denial, kissed away words of desperate bargaining and had wiped away too many tears when the depression became too much.
But this one.
This Tony was looking at him like it knew what Stephen did.
And was accepting him.
And that just made it all the more painful to do what he had to do.
With a simple incantation, a brand appeared over Tony’s arm.
Tony looked down at what Stephen had done, wide eyes staring up at him.
Now Tony’s dreams would return to what they were.
And Stephen would remain here to make sure it stayed that way.
But Tony didn’t want that.
He didn’t want to wake up if Stephen wasn’t going to be there.
And no matter how many times Stephen tries to tell him they were just dreams, Tony’s counter was that they were his dreams.
About Stephen, about them.
And Stephen can’t look him in the eyes.
Tony is shaking his head, trying to grab hold of Stephen with fingers that just went straight through him as he begins to fade.
He’s waking up.
This was always meant to be Stephens nightmare.
Tony was just used to lure him here. The entity that has been feeding off of Tony’s fears and regrets, gaining strength from all his weaknesses... He won’t let it use Tony anymore.
Stephen pressed his lips softly to Tony’s one last time as he feels them fade away from him.
When he opened his eyes, Tony was gone.
The world around him began to rumble and quake.
And the being who appeared was...himself.
Paler in comparison and wearing green robes instead of blue, but it was still like looking in a mirror.
Nightmare had really out done himself.
Nightmare mocked Stephen, told him his plans for Tony once he finally got rid of the meddlesome magician, pulling a fabricated Tony Stark to his side
The Tony of Stephen’s dreams, wrapping Nightmare’s arm in his own and standing dutifully by his side.
Nightmare knows Stephen can’t defeat him.
Stephen’s fear when it comes to Tony Stark makes him vulnerable.
Weak.
Nightmare could feed off of his torture for eons.
Stephen’s more than prepared to go through with it.
With Nightmare focused on himself, he won’t have time for any one else.
And that’s the way it would have went had Tony Stark not landed right beside Stephen and blasted his double away.
He is pissed that Stephen chose to play the self sacrificing card when he was trying to tell him how he felt.
You don’t do that to someone, especially after you’ve just witnessed all their flaws and fears.
Nightmare just grins at them.
He knows everything Tony is scared of. He’s a complicated human, but a human none the less.
But when he tries to change the dream around them, he can’t.
And as he fails again and again, Tony just stands there.
He’s not worried about those dreams anymore.
He’s come to accept them, completely erasing the fear he had of them.
And only a being who has conquered their fears can truly defeat a Nightmare.
Angered and powerless, Nightmare makes a quick escape.
Stephen tries to go after him but is stopped by Tony, who points him to the portal he came through.
And Stephen suddenly gets this gnawing feeling in his gut.
Like this isn’t the real Tony and all of this is actually part of Nightmare’s plan.
He tries telling him this, tries to get a straight answer from him, but if it is the real Tony he’s choosing the worst moment to play mind games.
And then he asks him what he believes, what he feels, as he pulls him closer to the portal.
Wherever this Tony is going to take him, back to reality or into a nightmare waiting to happen, Stephen wants to be with him, whether it’s the real Tony or not.
So he follows he him through.
Quotes -
“An idea is like a virus. Resilient. Highly contagious. And the smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define...or destroy you.”
Nightmare to Stephen
“What if you’re wrong? What if I’m what’s real? You keep telling yourself what you know. But what do you believe? What do you feel?”
Tony persuading Stephen to be with him.
In My Dreams, You’re With Me.
Nightmare has a hold of Tony’s dreams and is forcing him to relive shit he thought he’d buried long ago.
It’s up to Stephen to help.
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sassy-pelican · 5 years ago
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To Infinity: Part Three
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, sadness, humor, time jumps, 18+, nsfw, canon typical warnings, a bit of everythings. You may not read this story if you are under 18.
Tagging: @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @crushedbyhyperbole​
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           Peggy greeted you with a wide smile matching your own. The knowing look in her eye reflected yours, only making you smile wider. “How did Steve react?” You ask.
           “Much like Bucky did.”
           “So, he froze like a deer in headlights?”
           “Absolutely.” She laughs. “Nothing better than making Captain America blush like a schoolgirl.”
           “I can’t argue with that, much.” You look at her, the glow from last night still present, even if only slightly. “Although, making the ladies-man stumble over words like one is pretty great too.”
           “I bet it is.”
~
           The small reprieve didn’t last though. The way to Poland was already underfoot and even with your newfound happiness from Bucky, the war weighed heavy on you. You loved it, the sense of purpose, the feeling of protecting people, but you hated that everything else stuck with you far longer than you wanted.
           “You okay doll?”
           “Of course, just thinkin’ Buck.” You only recently started using the nickname for his nickname, courtesy of Steve. Somehow, it always seemed to put Bucky at ease when you said it.
           “Care to tell me what you’re thinkin’ ‘bout?”
           “No.”
           “Alright.”
           “Do you miss it? The simplicity of before all this.” You don’t look at him when you ask, can’t really.
           “Yeah. I miss trying to keep Stevie out of trouble, I miss the mindless dates I set us both up with, I miss the carefree nature of everything.”
           “Me too. I love what we’re doing, the helping people part, I just hate everything else. I don’t like taking lives, but I know I have to.”
           “I get it.” He slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling close while you walk. “I hate it too. I know I enlisted –”
           “Don’t lie to be Bucky. I’ve seen your tags, and I have my own. I know the number for people who enlisted and people who were drafted. You were drafted.”
           “I’m sorry.” He mutters, burying his face in your hair.
           “Nothin’ to be sorry for. You had no control over it.”
           “You can’t say anything to Steve. He doesn’t know.” He pleads.
           “I won’t, but you should tell him.” You hug his waist, trying to calm the nerves you can feel rolling off him.
           “I know. I will. Just maybe when this is all over.”
           “Another thing to add to the list then?”
           “The list? What list?”
           “I distinctly remember you telling me that after all this we were gonna get married, get a dog, and then maybe have a couple of kids. Telling Steve was just added.”
           “I distinctly remember you not giving me answer either.”
           “Well, I am now.”
~
           The team had three days before the next mission was due. Three whole days. It didn’t use to be a lot, but now it feels like two weeks. Bucky was excited, said he finally got to treat his girl, with what you didn’t know. When he walked you up to a fairly nice-looking lodging though, you started to get the idea.
           “Bucky?”
           “I said I wanted to treat you, didn’t I?” He smiles.
           “That you did. But how?”
           “Don’t worry about it.”
           “I am to going to worry about. This place looks expensive.”
           “It kinda was.”
           You huff but know you won’t be getting the price out of him anytime soon, if at all. “So, Sarge, what did you have planned?”
           He practically growls at you. “I plan on making up for you sleeping on the cold hard ground for weeks and weeks by doing everything I can’t do to you in a tent.”
           “How thin are the walls?” You ask, already feeling the place in between your thighs readying itself for whatever he has planned.
           “Thicker than a tent.”
           “Well don’t keep me waiting, let’s get to this room and use tonight to the fullest.” You whisper. The breath by his ear sending a shiver down his spine.
           “Yes ma’am.”
           A few curious looks from other guests and the staff is all you see before the two of you are racing up to your room. Before you can react, the door is shut, and you are shoved against it. His hands are placed harshly against your hips, drawing you closer, his leg set firmly between yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging at the ends of his hair that needs a bit of a trim before setting out again. Although, the sounds he makes when you pull at it might just change your mind.
           “Bucky.” You moan. His lips leaving a trail of kisses along the column of your neck, much like the first night. His tongue slipping out to lap at the small bites he leaves inconsistently.
           A hard tug on his hair as he moves to your collarbone is all it takes. He groans low in his throat, grabbing your thighs and shoving them around his waist before he walks the two of you over to what you assume is the bed. The coldness underneath your ass says different.
           “Too many clothes.” He grumbles as he is fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. You shake your head, smiling wide.
           “I agree.” You own fingers are attempting to work at his buttons, having the same problem as him.
           You encase his hand in yours, stopping his shaking movements. “Why don’t we just undress ourselves?”
           “But I like undressing you.”
           “And I enjoy it, but sweetheart, look at your hands.” He does, and huffs at the tremor.
           “Fine.”
           You don’t even bother unbuttoning your shit before you pull it over your head and out of your pants. They are far tighter than when you first bought them, the muscles in your legs have grown considerably, and although Bucky loves to look at them, you can see the judgment in other eyes when you do. Not that you care, but it still stings. However, the favored pants are soon slipping off your legs, leaving you in only the special undergarments you picked for this occasion.
           “When did you get those?”
           “Our first break. But I figured neither one of us would like me walking around camp with this underneath my clothes.” You smirk as he stalls his moves, button on his own pants almost undone.
           “Damn right.” He growls as he pulls the fabric off and settles in just his underwear.
           “You gonna come kiss me Sarge?” You can see his eyes darken as he struts forward, lifting you back up onto the dresser, the cold wood causing you to gasp.
           He takes it as an invitation to slip in tongue in your mouth, almost immediately fighting with yours in the best way possible. Your hands move to his hair again, loving the feel of it between your fingers. The moan that escapes your lips when he tugs the straps of your bra down is downright dirty.
           “I love you.” He mumbles, words slightly muffled by your skin.
           “I love you too.” You rake your hands down his back, leaving angry red marks that send him reeling. “But I’d love you a lot more right now if you stopped teasing.”
            He doesn’t answer verbally, doesn’t need too. The fabric covering your breasts is shoved off, just on the right side of careful, as he throws it across the room. Mouth hot against one and hand the other. That sinful tongue of his darts out to lap the stiffened peak of one. And fuck, it’s never felt this good, not even with him before.
           “James.”
           A small nip and pinch and you are throwing your head back, latching onto his shoulders with one hand, his head with another as he does it again. Just when you think you can’t possibly take any more, he switches sides, and you lose it. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, wanting nothing more than for something to fill you up, but he seems to ignore your wordless and moaning pleas.
           “James, please.” You moan, no longer caring how wanton you sound. His hand not already occupied by your breast moves downward, slipping aside the fabric of your panties, drawing out even more slick from you.
           He stops long enough to remove the only thing shielding himself from you. His lips now moving downward with his hands to that place you desperately want him to fill. A warm breath on you and you shiver. A swipe of his finger and you moan. A lick and you practically shoot off the wood.
           “Tastes good.” He groans, the vibrations from his words against your nether lips making you even more wet.
           Hands gripping your thighs he delves between your legs once more, licking a few long stipes from slit to clit, circling the sensitive nub each time, but never really touching. His nose prods at it as he slips that long tongue inside you. You’re sure the people on the other side can hear you now. Not that you would care at this point, the sensations stemming from between your legs are enough for your mind to go blank.
           A flick of his thumb over your clit and your gone. You can feel yourself clench around him, his tongue lapping up everything you give. Sagging against the mirror, he doesn’t let up. He slowly, almost painfully so, slips one of his thick digits in, swirling it amidst the slick still pooling. The turtle like pace he sets isn’t enough to get you off, you know that, he knows that. However, it’s enough to make you want more.
           Another finger, still no faster and his tongue pressed against your clit is enough to make you jerk. “Stop teasing.” You gasp, words broken up with harsh breathes as he speeds up just long enough to startle you.
           “But it’s so fun.” He whines against you, your legs wrapping around his head tight.
           “Please.”
           “Tell me.” He orders, only here would you ever let him. But then again, only with his head between your legs or sheathed inside you, would he ever try.
           “I want you inside me.”
           The groan sends both of you over the edge. His picks you up, gently lay you on the bed and in between harsh and passionate kisses, slips inside with one long thrust. The gasp the ensues is enough for you. The feeling of him finally inside you almost sending you over the edge.
           “Not yet doll. I want you to cum with me.” He moans, his movements slow at first, the sounds of skin against skin quiet.
           You lock your legs around his hip, pulling him closer and pushing him farther inside. “Fuck me James.” That seems to be enough for him.
           His pace quickens, skin slapping harshly, hands gripping your hips in a way sure to leave bruises. The shallow breathing of both of you fills the room with the loud moans. Every hard thrust of his hips sends you closer and closer to the edge. “James!”
           The harsh rub of his pubic bone against your clit is too much. Both you can feel yourself clench around him, tightly. He does it again, the vice-like grip of you around him enough that his thrusts grow sloppy. Snaking a hand in between you his thumbs your nub, and you can’t hold it anymore.
            He groans, low and loud, as you cum around him. Only a few more languid thrusts and he’s done too. The hot ropes of him filling you up is almost enough to send you over again, the waves of your previous orgasm still not fully over.
           “I think you made up for the cold hard ground.” You gasp out, breathing harsh as he collapses next to you.
           “Oh, I’m not done yet. Not even close.”
~
           The weather was warmer, meaning the nights spend in the tent were with less clothing. Steve discovered that the hard way. Of course, he should’ve known to announce his presence before barging in.
           The mission in Greece went well, far better than some of the other ones. But the high from it didn’t last. The boys got orders, you didn’t like it, Peggy didn’t like it, no one did. What you hated the most was that you weren’t going with them.
           “I’ll be fine, doll.” Bucky reassures, but you see it in his eyes, he’s nervous.
           “I hope so.”
           “I’ll come back and we can do anything you want.”
           “Anything?” You ask, ideas of varying levels of debauchery flowing through your mind.
           “Anything. Promise.”
           “Okay.” You look at him, not liking saying goodbye. “When you get back, we’re getting married.”
           “I don’t have a ring.” He argues, not really meaning it, but also worried about it to a point. You shake your head at him.
           “I don’t care. I want to marry you, not a ring.” You don’t let him speak as you lean up and kiss him. It feels like a goodbye kiss, even though you hope with everything in you it’s not permanent.
           “As soon as I get back huh?”
           “I’ll be waiting.”
           “You gonna get all dressed up in white?” He asks, only half mocking.
           “I doubt it, nothing pure about me anymore is there? I might grace you with a skirt though.” You give him one more peck on the cheek before hugging him tight. “I expect you in your dress uniform though.”
           “Of course. Anything for my best girl, right?”
           “Just come back, okay.” You don’t want to cry, never thought of yourself as a crier. But now, holding onto Bucky and realizing that he is likely going into a death trap, that’s all you want to do.            
           “I promise.”
~
           Their late. Not late enough to cause real concern, but still late. None of them have showed up yet, not Steve, not Dugan, not Pinky, not even Frenchie. Every second that passes amps up your nerves. Peggy’s no better, standing next to you and chewing her lip.
           “Do you think they’re alright?” She asks, the red of her lips almost gone.
           “Of course. They’re our boys.” You try, it doesn’t work, not when you don’t really believe the words yourself.
           “Well, you’re not wearing white.”
           “Bucky!” You turn, launching yourself at him. Not fully noticing that he has on the same outfit as the first day you met. The green shirt matching that of your dress.
           “I missed you doll.” He murmurs into your neck.
           “I missed you too.”
           “Still wanna get married?” He asks, setting you down.
           “Yes.”
~
           The dingy motel room seems familiar. It isn’t, but it brings back memories of your first night with him, with anyone. You can’t help but smile as you trace little shapes on the expanse of his chest, still covered in a light sheen of sweat.
           “I love you Y/N.”
           “I love you James.”
           You lay there for a while, his arm wrapped around you, yours around him, the sheet not really covering anything from your waist up. Still, his hand traces mindless shapes the same as yours. It almost tickles. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, stilling his movements. You place one on his chest. Chaste compared to earlier.
           “It feels different.” He says.
           “It does, doesn’t it?”
           “I could get used to it.”
           “Me too.” You pick your head up from its resting place against him. “Goodnight Mr. Barnes.” A kiss, for luck and good dreams.
           “Goodnight, Mrs. Barnes.” A kiss and a grab at your ass for fun.
~
           The hoots and hollers from the team when you go you on your next mission are comical. The booze that are passed around aren’t. They don’t have any effect on Steve, and don’t seem to have any on Bucky either. No one comments on it though, not even when everyone else is piss ass drunk, save you and Peg.
           “You actually did it! Lady Legs and Buckaroo actually did it!” Dugan yells. You just laugh at him as you lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder.
           Most of the other guys are passed out already, snoring loudly. “Yes Dum Dum, we did.” Bucky says.
           “Your married!” He says, almost disbelieving.
           “Yes, we are.” You answer. Bucky just pulls you closer.
           “Never thought I’d see the day.” He mutters into the bottle.
           “We’re aware.” You grumble, for the fifth time tonight.
           You two escape to your tent shortly after a few more drunken confessions, all of which were embarrassing for anyone involved. You can still hear him, but neither you nor Bucky care at this point, the two of you just want to sleep.
           “Think he’ll pass out anytime soon?” He asks.
           “One can only hope.” You stop, unsure how to broach the subject with him. “Bucky?”
           “Yeah?”
           “They did things to you, I know that.” You pause, letting him process the direction of the conversation. “I don’t need, or want, to know everything. I just want to know if it was a botched version of the serum Steve and I got.”
           He doesn’t say anything for a while, you almost don’t think he will. “How’d you know?”
           “I’m your wife, James. Your fiancé, girlfriend, and friend before that. I also saw what you looked like when you rescued you. I saw the look on your face when you spotted the doctor, and I knew they were conducting experiments. The guys said no one came back from where you were. You also have far more stamina than a normal man, are far stronger than you should be, and didn’t get drunk tonight or the night in the bar.”
           “I haven’t been as careful as I thought then,” he mutters. “Yes, it was botched version of it. Far less safe obviously.”
           “I’m sorry.”
           “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about doll. It wasn’t your fault.” You hear the shaky breath he takes. “Please don’t hate me for it.”
           “I could never hate you. I’m not gonna leave you over it either. I love you Bucky, botched serum and all.”
~
           Cold snow and iced over ground gave way to warm weather and soft, mud-covered ground soon after that conversation a week ago. The SSR offered Steve a way to Italy, he declined, much to everyone’s dismay. He seems to be the only one unaffected by the night sleeping in a tent. His excuse, as always, is a good one. Always about doing the right thing, clearing towns of the Nazi and HYDRA influence as we go. Still, you missed a bed. You missed the things that came with a bed too.
           You and Bucky’s sex life is … bland, at the moment at least. There simply isn’t much room in a tent to get creative and the thin fabric certainly does nothing to muffle sounds. A few too many incidents of team members barging in due to what they considered sounds of distress is enough to let the two of you know that until a more private setting can be found, exciting sex just isn’t practical. That didn’t stop you from trying though.
           “I’m going to kill Steve for refuses the offer of better transportation.” Bucky grumbles just ahead of you.
           “Feeling a little under the weather, are we?” You ask him, after the fifth time he falls in the mud. Each time you struggle to keep the laughter in.
           “Very funny doll. Let’s not forget the roles were reversed a while back.”
           “True, but I wasn’t covered in mud.”
           “It’s a good thing I love you.” He growls, and without warning, launches himself at you.
           Falling back into the mud pile he just vacated, you squeal. “James Buchanan Barnes! You devil you!” Everyone turns to see the commotion and all laugh at the sight.
           “What the bloody hell are you two doing?” Peggy asks, laughing while trying scold us.
           “Ask my husband!”
           “Barnes?” She asks, hands on her hips, lips tugged into a smile.
           Without looking up from your eyes he replies, “Y/N was making fun of me.”
           “Are you a child?” She asks, still smiling, Steve now next to her.
           “Only sometimes.” He drops his voice, low enough that only you can hear. “Other times I like to make you scream for a different reason.”
           You aren’t sure whether you want to moan or hit him with the handful of mud poised at your side. You settle on a grumble of frustration. “You are insatiable James Barnes.”
           “Only for you Y/N Barnes.”
~
           The bed beneath you is a welcome change after weeks of a tent and the ground. However, nothing is quite as welcome as the head between your legs, fingers parting what he can’t with his mouth. Your own fingers are tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, pulling him closer if possible. He doesn’t move though, only continues his ministrations, far too slow for your liking.
           “Bucky, please.”
           “Patience my dear.” He mumbles before delving back in, tongue lapping at your entrance, trying to taste every ounce of your wetness.
           The moan coming you as he slips his finger in are sure to wake Steve, who is on the other side of the wall behind you. The mere thought causes you to tense a little. He feels it, stopping. “What’s going on in that head of yours love?”
           “Steve … he can probably … oh god Bucky …” You try to explain as he resumes his movements once you relax a bit.
           “I don’t care.” He mumbles, leaning back down to suck on your clit. “But I better not hear his name again for a while.”
           “Fuck!” The harsh curl of his finger coupled with the addition of a second sends you higher. You swear your eyes roll back, whites showing.
           “Atta girl.” He groans, the slight movement of the bed an indication he’s rutting his hips against the side now. “You taste so good.”
           “James.” You gasp as he moves his fingers faster, tongue following, licking at your clit faster than before. “Need you.”
           “Fuck doll.” He groans, moving from his place on the carpeted floor and over you.
           One swift movement, no more prep necessary, he pushes in, bottoming out in record time. The loud groan from his lips already sending you clenching around him even more. “James … move.”
           He does, slowly at first. Long and measured movements are met with the soft slap of hips against hips, fingers coming down to tweak your exposed nipples. The jagged breath at the dual sensations is enough for him to pick up the pace, even if only slightly. Even as you lock your legs around him, urging him deeper, harder, faster, he doesn’t budge.
           One hand slips downward, hovering over your hyper-sensitive nub, the other still pulling, pinching, and rubbing at the peak of your breast. The gentle press of the finger against you makes you clench, squeezing him harder.
           “Fuck Y/N.” He pants. “Gonna make me cum like a boy if you keep that up.”
           “Faster.” Is all you manage as he whispers in your ear.
           His grip shifts, holding onto your hips now, the slow pace now a thing of the past. The almost brutal pounding does you in, the release that was only impeding moments ago is exploding now. Another push and pull of your hips and he’s growling, pulling out.
           “Hands and knees baby.” He moans into your ear. You oblige.
           One hand resting on your ass he loves so much and the other wrapped around his length, he is guiding himself into you. Your prior climax letting him slip in with ease, tip reaching new depths at this angle. Arching your back as he bottoms out draws a guttural moan from him. The fast and hard pounding from before resumes. The slapping of skin is the only sound next to the almost scream-like sounds coming from your lips.
           “Oh … fuck! Y/N.” He groans, thrust becoming sloppier now. You don’t mind, your own walls are clenching harder, the heat pooling in your center. You can feel yourself reaching that high again.
           “S’close Bucky.” You mumble, dropping down to your elbows, face falling into the pillows; they don’t do much to muffle the sounds though.
           “Me too.” He groans, lips trailing up your back, chest sliding against your sweaty skin. “Get yourself there.”
           You nod, slipping your hand between your legs, tracing your clit with your fingers. “Shit. Oh, fuck!” You moan, his thrusts bottoming out in rapid succession.
           “Cum for me doll.” He moans, lips pressing into your neck as you collapse farther into the bed. It doesn’t take you long, you second release crashing over you like a wave. He doesn’t take long to follow, ropes of his own painting your walls.
           The squelchy sound as he pulls out and collapses next to you is the dirtiest and sound you’ve heard in a while. “We’ve got have sex more often. If we keep doing this, you’re gonna kill me.” Bucky gasps.
           “Well, I don’t find the boys seeing me splayed out for you like a feast too arousing, and they have a habit of that.”
           “True.” Slowly he gets up and walks, ass on full display for your viewing pleasure, into the bathroom. The cool sensation of a washcloth between your legs makes you moan a little.
           “Nuh uh, I can’t do another round yet.”
           “Not asking. Just feels good after all that.”
           “Not surprised. We went for,” he pauses, hand still holding the cold wet cloth against you as he looks at the bedside clock, “four hours.”
           “I’m gonna kill you! You’re gonna kill me is more like it.” You grumble, a smile playing at your lips.
           “But you love it.”
           “Yes, I do.”
~
1945
           You weren’t going on this mission. The higher-ups said it was a ‘man’s job’ something you took high offence to but could do nothing about. You knew what it was, Bucky filled you in as much as he could, but even he couldn’t tell you everything, and you had a feeling, he didn’t want to.
           The goodbye was worse than last time. You weren’t just saying goodbye to Bucky, to James Barnes; you were saying goodbye to your husband. Even Colonel Philips gave you a wide berth, everyone could see the sadness seeping from you pores. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something felt different this time.
           You waited with the nurses this time, Peggy pacing nearby, waiting for word, anything. Nothing came when it was due. Even an hour late, nothing. Two hours. Three. Four. After seven you were hysterical, only on the inside though. Outside, you were a shell. Your eyes haven’t left the same spot on the floor since hour five.
           “Mrs. Barnes?” A woman says, tapping at your shoulder.
           “What?”
           “Their back.”
           You jump up, running in the direction of the tent you know they will be, but as you get there, only nine men come out, Steve included. His eyes are hollow, glassy, red. Your breath catches in your throat.
           “Steve?”
           “Y/N.” He chokes out. Your breathing picks up, tears prickling at the back of your eyes. You know what is going to come out of his mouth, but you have to ask.
           “Steve, where’s Bucky?”
           He can’t answer you, can only shake his head as sobs rip through him too. The two of you cling to each other, sobs wracking your bodies, the sounds echoing throughout the camp. No one comes up to console either one of you. They can’t. Bucky’s gone.
~
           The gun fire and sound of bombs still echo in your skull as you climb into the plane, hiding in an alcove, out of sight. You can hear the sounds of the battle, muffled by the metal. Steve, his voice yelling, Peggy isn’t far behind.
           You turn a corner, spotting multiple planes with cities written on their backs. You manage to take one out by the time Steve show up. His already haggard face becomes more so when he sees you. The two of you, bloodied and bruised make your way into the cockpit, Schmidt waiting.
           “You don’t give up, do you?” He asks, more to Steve than to you. Still, you count yourself as part of it.
           “Nope!” He yells, throwing himself into the fight. You don’t get in the way; you see the desperation and rage on Steve’s face. He needs this. He needs this fight after Bucky. You, you need him here.
           His shield is flying, fists hitting everything in their paths. Somehow, through the array of bullets and sparks and everything in between, you make your way into the pilot’s seat. You don’t know what anything says, or what to do with anything, but you recognize two words: New York. The plane is heading for New York.
           Patting your legs, trying to find that one gun you know you haven’t used yet, you frantically try to help. Gripping the handle and pointing it at the red man you fire, the bullet just missing anything vital. Just as the blood starts to seep from his side, Steve’s shield shoots him into the console holding the glowing cube.
           “What have you done? No!” He screams, picking up the cube. You dive, fingers just brushing the thing before you grab onto it as well.
           “What are you doing?” Steve screams at you, Schmidt’s face losing color as he watches the shapes and energy encircle both of you.
           The only thing running through your head is Bucky. You could’ve protected him, if you’d been there. Shielded him from the thing that killed him. You could’ve taken the fall. It should have been you. It shouldn’t have been him. Not your Bucky. You could’ve protected him.
“I may not survive this, but I’ll be damned before you get what you want.” You growl at him as you grip it tighter. You can feel it starting to seep into you, almost as if it’s a living thing.
           “No!” He screams, trying to pull it from you, but even with your own grip, it feels as if it won’t let go of you. “No.”
           “You took my husband from me.” You growl, knuckles white with the strain, voice even harsher, blood coming from your nose. “And you’re going to pay for that.” You let go, the cube unleashing the entirety of its power onto him, the sheer force of it throwing you into the console.
           You see a stream of bright blue flash, the body of Schmidt turning into dust, or at least that’s what it looks like. Your hand moves up to your face, wiping the blood from your nose. You don’t say anything as you look to Steve, a small smile on your face. The only thing you see is his panic-stricken face as you start to feel yourself fall. The metal hitting your head echoes even as the plane flies.
           You watch as the dreaded cube burns through the plan, falling into the ocean. Eyes fluttering you smile, your vision fading in and out as you think of him. Your James. Your Bucky. Your husband. His smile, as he looks down at you is the last thing you see before your vision fades completely, world going dark and silent.
2011
           “Good morning.” A plastic cup is shoved in front of your face. “How are you feeling?” the voice sounds feminine, but the haziness is there, the sounds muffled a bit.
           “Where am I?” The voice that comes out of you doesn’t seem like your own, but yet it is.
           “You’re in a recovery facility.”
           “Where am I?”
           “You’re in a recover-”
           “Where am I?” You start to recognize your own voice, and it sounds raspy.
           “I don’t understand.” The woman, a nurses uniform you recognize on. It seems off though, slightly altered. You glance at her legs, no hosiery.
           “What year is it?” You ask, slightly surer of yourself.
           “It’s nineteen-forty-five.” She answers, an uneasy smile on her face now.
           “You’re lying.” You stare at her now, the pit in your stomach growing. “What year is it?”
           “I told you –”
           “Stop lying to me!” You turn back to her, taking a shaky breath. “No respectable woman in nineteen-forty-five would go to her workplace in a skirt with no hosiery. And if I’m right, this is a government facility, meaning that in forty-five, that would be required. Now what year is it?”
           She steps back, hand going under the lip of the table in the corner. You know she presses an alarm, but yet you can’t seem to bring yourself to care. Still, you know whoever she calls can’t be good. “Sir, she knows.”
           You shove at her, the punch thrown at her jaw sends her flying. It doesn’t take much time before your instincts kick in, your hands pulling open the door. You don’t make it far, guns pointed at you in every direction.
           “Guns down.” A male this time. No one moves. “I said guns down.” He tries again, this time they listen. “I’m Agent Phil Coulson. You must be Y/N Y/L/N.”
           “How do you know my name?”
           “History.” He doesn’t offer you more than that.
           “What year is it? Where am I?”
           “New York City, twenty-eleven.”
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lighteyed · 6 years ago
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aftermath / peter parker
summary : so, endgame happened. 
word count : 2.2k 
author’s note : i’m emotionally unstable! and haven't posted writing in mad long so here’s this i’m sad lol 
    You were beginning to get used to telling lies.
   I’m fine, thank you. Yes, I’ve eaten today, Pepper, don’t worry. Yes, Peter, I’m sleeping again, I promise. I’m not sad, Morgan, I’m just a little sleepy. Everything is fine.
   They all came out easily enough. You hardly hesitated anymore when you spoke them. You had the sneaking suspicion that the only one who really believed you was Morgan, because she was four and didn’t know any better than to believe what the people she looks up to tell her. Pepper made an effort not to push you too much, and Peter made an effort to keep you from crying like you had the entire two weeks you’d been back from being dusted.
 You still cried for hours on end another two weeks later, you just didn’t do it around him anymore. Another lie, not that you were counting.
 You only ever felt awful about lying to Peter, because he was horribly perfect and patient and precious and looked out for you like no other and came in to check on you every day even though the cabin in the woods your father and Pepper and Morgan had retired to wasn’t close to his little apartment in Queens. But you couldn’t help it. Lying was just simpler than breaking down all over everyone else’s grieving processes. Lying was the easy way out.
 It was three in the morning but you were wide awake, jogging on the treadmill you’d set up in your room a couple of days ago. Pepper hadn’t questioned it when you left the house late Sunday afternoon and returned hours later with the huge box, lugging it up the stairs and then slamming your bedroom door shut. Tony had a habit for impulsive decisions, and you had so much of him residing in you. She saw it in the private way you mourned, and in the hard set of your mouth when you came down to dinner those few times a week when you could manage it even though you didn’t really eat, and in the soft, happy way you spoke to your little sister as she pestered you with questions despite you never really being in the mood to answer them. Pepper had loved you from the moment she had laid eyes on you because of the subconscious way you mimicked your father, and she knew if anyone was taking his death hard, it was you, and you needed space.
 Your music was blaring so loudly in your ears you hadn’t noticed the incessant tapping taking place at your window. You finally yanked them out of your ears when a flood of texts poured in from Peter, who was standing, precarious as usual, right at the edge of the window waiting for you to let him in. You had forgotten it was a Friday- Peter had a schedule of what nights he would stop by, and he always came on Fridays so he could spend the weekend there.
  “Sorry, Pete,” you opened the window for him and switched on the bigger light.
  “It’s three in the morning, what are you doing up on a… treadmill?” He eyed the machine, nose scrunched. “You don’t exercise.”
 “I bought it after you left last Sunday, I need a hobby.” You rummage around in the bottom drawer of your dresser for a pair of his pajama pants as he begins to pull off the Spider-Man suit.
 “It’s still three in the morning,” he says, sitting at the edge of your bed. You move around your bedroom, fixing little things that don’t look particularly out of place. “You’re usually asleep right around now.”
 No, I’m not. I’m never asleep. “Well, I stayed up waiting for you,” you reply. Liar.
 “You never stay up to wait for me, you always leave the window unlocked and text me that you’re going to sleep and then I get here and you’re asleep.” He folds his arms and stares at you, hard. You tilt your face down because the stare is making you uneasy, he looks like he’s analyzing you and you hate it.
 “Changed my mind,” you mutter, more to the ground than to Peter.
 “Hey, look at me.” It’s not a demand the way he says it, worried and gentle as anything, but you set your gaze firm to the floor and refuse. You hear the creaking of your bed as he gets up from it, and then the same creaking of the old floorboards as he makes his way over to you. “When did you get these?” His hand is warm on your face when his fingertips graze over the dark rings under your eyes. “You never look this tired when I come over.”
 “I cover them up before you get here.”
 “You told me- you told me you were sleeping normally.” There’s a clear hurt in his voice that makes you ache all over. Hurting Peter is like hurting a baby. You’d always told him that if anyone hurts him, you’d be the first to kick their asses into a different century. There’s nothing you can do when you’re the one hurting him. He keeps his hand resting there on your cheek. “You don’t have to lie to me, Y/N. It’s just me. You can tell me anything. When was the last time you slept?”
 It takes you a second to think about it. “Um, Wednesday will be a week since I stopped trying.”
 “A week? You’re always asleep when I get here!”
 “It’s a lie, Peter, it’s just one big fucking lie, okay? What do you want me to say right now?” You push his hand away from you. You don’t mean to snap at him, the one person who tries his hardest to make everything better for you. He’s the little light-beam in your life. You don’t mean it, any of it. But this it. The culmination of every ounce of grief you’ve felt in the past month, splattering all over the walls of the bedroom that doesn’t feel like yours, though Pepper explained Tony had it set up specifically for you and spent hours agonizing over it in the five years you had been gone because it needed to be perfect for you if you ever came back to him. The only room you’d ever known was back at the Avengers building that was still in ruins from the final battle. This was foreign and uncomfortable, and Tony wasn’t there to help you through adjusting to normalcy or how to handle a four-year-old sister or annoy you by making stupid dad jokes and harassing Peter about his intentions with you. He wasn’t there. You had gotten him back for a second and you’d lost him just as fast.
 “I just want the truth if it’s all been, and I quote, one big fucking lie,” Peter takes a step back, looking angry in a way you’d never seen before, and it only sets you off even further.
 “Fine, I’ll tell you the truth. The whole god-damn truth. I can’t take being here. Every day I’m here, I hate it. I lost five years of my life, I lost my dad, I lost my friends because they’re in college or they have careers because they didn’t get wiped out by some crazy ass weirdo from another planet! I’m supposed to be twenty-two and I’m supposed to have my dad! But I’m still seventeen and my dad is dead and I can’t handle it, Peter, I can’t handle it, I can’t do it anymore.”
 “Y/N-”
 “No, don’t, don’t! You wanna know why I don’t sleep? Because all I do is see him, I see him staring at me as he gets those infinity stones and I see him saying he’s sorry to me as I’m held back by whoever the fuck held me back and I see him saving everyone and then I see him dying, every single time I shut my eyes. I’d rather stay awake for my entire life than see him like that again and again and again.”
 Peter is at a loss for words as he watches you rampage around your room. “None of this means anything to me! I don’t know this house, I don’t know this bedroom,” you throw one of your books at the wall, and then another, and then another. “I don’t know that little girl downstairs who loves me so much and asks her mom why I look so sad all the time and why I won’t go and play with her outside by the lake when it’s warm out because I wasn’t there this whole time! My dad had another little girl and I was gone and he told her about me but I don’t know her and I hate it, I hate everything about being back here, Peter, and the only thing I don’t hate is you and you’re gonna hate me too after all this ‘cause I’m a liar and the worst person in the world,” you hadn’t even noticed the tears streaming down your face until you were sobbing in the middle of your bedroom, contents of your desk that’d you knocked over and ripped pages from books and makeup from the dresser strewn about the room like a hurricane had hit.
  “I’m sorry, Peter, I’m sorry,” you kept saying, head in your hands even when he wrapped his arms around you and let you bury your face in his shirt, holding you tightly amidst the mess.
  He remembers holding you when Tony had died. You screamed and cried and shook violently as Pepper knelt beside the broken body of your hero of a father. He remembers you throwing up afterward all night, coming out of the bathroom pale and still shaking, crawling underneath covers and continuing to cry with Peter through the rest of the following day. He held you every night for those first two weeks because when Peter wasn’t there your nightmares were brutal and merciless, and he was glad to do it because you clutching his hand and needing him that way made everything a little more bearable. He remembers you not coming to the funeral, and standing outside with May crying for his loss and yours and Pepper’s and Morgan’s and the entire world’s, but crying a lot for your broken heart that he couldn’t fix. He remembers going to your room after, knocking on the door for three hours and begging you to let him come in until he gave up and fell asleep outside of it. He remembers Morgan asking him if you were the big sister her daddy had told her all about, and he remembers Morgan being the only one to get you to come out of the bedroom with her tiny, sad voice because her dad was gone, too. He remembers your tired, hopeless eyes and the way you couldn’t keep anything down or focus properly or look at him right. He remembers everything, and he should’ve known you couldn’t get better in two weeks. He should’ve known. He should’ve noticed something, anything.
 “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay,” he soothed, stroking your hair softly. “You’re not a bad person, no one hates you, no one could ever hate you, I love you so much, you’re gonna be okay.” You didn’t have the strength to make it over to your bed, so he cleared the area where you stood and let you cry in his lap right there.
 “I- I really miss him,” you hiccuped, wiping the snot from your nose and staring up at Pete through blurred vision.
 “I know, me too,” his voice wavers, but tonight isn’t the night for you to comfort him. You need him first, and he knows you’ll be there when he needs you in that similar capacity. He takes a deep breath that shakes his whole body.
 “He- he’s not gonna see me and you get- get married, or have a teeny baby, or- or take me out to a strip club for my 18th birthday like he promised, and he’s not- not gonna be there for Morgan like she’s gonna need him to be and it makes my heart hurt so bad, so so bad,” you curl up tighter against him.
 Peter doesn’t want to say something that everyone says; that he’ll always be there with you spiel or the whole he’s watching you over bit. Every reiterated version of those two sentences irked him when his parents died, when Ben died, so he’ll never say it to you. He presses a kiss to your hand. “It’s gonna be hard for a long time, but we’re gonna get through it together. Me and you, right? No matter what. He- he wouldn’t wanna see you so sad, he’d want you to go kick life in the ass for him, and maybe he’d want you to name our baby after him, but that’s not for a few years, but it’s just a thought, but yeah, he’d want you to know that you’re going to be okay, and he’d want me to make sure of it. I promise, Y/N, you’re gonna feel okay again.”
 “You really think so?”
 “I know so. You’re the kid of the strongest, smartest person I’ve ever met, besides Aunt May. Of course you’re gonna be okay. You’re you.” He feels you nod a little, and your breathing levels until you’re finally sleeping for the first time in a long time. He falls asleep next to you on the floor, arms thrown over you like he’s shielding you from the world. He wishes he really could.
 In the afternoon, when you’re both awake, you shakily walk downstairs with him to say hi to Pepper and Morgan. The tiniest Stark observes you quietly as Pepper begins making more breakfast for the two of you.
 “Hi, Morgan,” you smile at her, big as you can manage, and Morgan lights up. “Do you wanna maybe… play outside? Before I eat?” Your uneasy smile moves to Pepper, and Peter feels himself start to breathe again. Baby steps. 
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ainarosewood · 5 years ago
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Infinity
@gatheredfates​
*Note*-This will be of my Oc Suisei as the Amaurotine well before the Final Days of Amarout ^.^ 
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Aridane sat upon the sculpted edge of the planter around one of the trees that lined the avenue staring up at the sky.  Most of her fellow citizens who wandered the streets just smiled as they saw the young Amaurotine looking up.  Most assumed her eyes were upon the purple blossoms scattered within the leaves their color barely discernible in the street lamps. To them most likely dreaming up concepts that she might one day accomplish.
They were quite mistaken her eyes were not on the tree or its blossoms, but on the wonder that only she and a few others could properly see.  The great River of Aether that swirled and flowed from all things below to the sky above where it drifted to what all knew to be the Underworld where life began its journey anew.
Of her classmates in the Akademia Anyder she knew of only two others who saw this as vividly and clearly as she did Hades and Hythlodaeus.  The former was a self centered annoyance that she tolerated the presences of for the sake of the latter since he was a close friend.  Hades bragged endlessly about his acuity of vision acting as if he alone understood what they were seeing.  She knew from time to time he could be tolerable but most of the time his attitude left much to be desired.
“There you are,” a voice called and she tore her eyes away from the river of aether to her dear friend.  Hythlodaeus strode up grinning wide as he reached her overtly excited about something.
She returned the grin she couldn’t help it his enthusiasm was infectious.  She had seen it could even get Hades to smile from time to time which irked the boy to no end and she found endless amusement from. “What’s got you so excited Hyth?” she asked
He was all but dancing in place his eyes beneath his mask glowing with excitement, “I have finally had a concept approved by the Bureau.  I can implement it as soon as possible!”
“Thats wonderful Hyth!” she jumped up catching his hands with joy. Aridane was so proud that her friend finally had achieved something he had been desiring for so long.
“It is indeed, but I wonder, when will you finally get one approved Aridane?” a voice nearby drawled
She turned giving him a taut smile anger smoldering deep in her eyes, “When I am good and ready Hades.” she replied evenly
The twitch of amusement in his lips told her he had seen he had struck a nerve.  She was seething inside but she kept it well in check.  She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her angry, “I have been working out another one I just would like to put the finishing touches on it before I present it to the Bureau.”
Disappointment flickered in Hades eyes as he saw her ignore the obvious bait he had thrown at her.  She felt a tiny bit of joy at seeing that honestly the boy could be insufferable.
“Can we see it Aridane?” Hythlodaeus asked interest apparent in his eyes, “Honestly I don’t know why they haven’t approved one before you always have such interesting ideas.”
“To you maybe,” Hades yawned, “Honestly I think I am going to head to the dorm and get some sleep.”  With that he gave them a lazy wave and sauntered off heading for the student dorms.
“Honestly Hyth, one of these days I am going to show that smug bastard that he is not the center of everything.” she growled
“He likes you Ari, that’s why he teases you so.  Honestly you two would make a good pair” Hyth stated mischief dancing in his eyes.
She stared in shock at the other boy and sputtered, “That’s......what do you.....never gonna happen!”
Hyth laughed and held up both hands in a placating gesture, “I’m joking, I’m joking.   He does like you but not like that.”
She just glared at him annoyed that he’d even suggest something so absurd.  She almost wanted to deny his request about seeing her concept but seeing the pleading eyes she relented.
“Come on, Its plans are in the classroom in the Words of Halmarult.”  she said leading him back toward the Akademia Aynder.  As they stode through the halls they were greeted by several classmates.  Once they arrived she went over to her desk and pulled out the crystal that housed the purposed concept.
She flowed her Aether into it and before her appeared a beautiful flower.  It was small with a flat leaf base the blossom itself was two toned the outer petals a pale white while the center was a gorgeous golden hue matching the delicate stems of pollen at its heart.
“I must say I hardly expected something so fragile from you.  But I have to admit it is beautiful.” Hades voice sounded from the door of the classroom, “The Bureau would be foolish to deny that one.  Its the best I have ever seen you make.
She whirled wanting to respond with a scathing remark but it died on her lips as he seemed to be actually meaning what he said.  Color crept into her cheeks and she looked back at the flower mumbling, “Thank you Hades.”
“Couldn’t resist eh?  I knew you secretly had a soft spot for her,” Hythlodaeus snickered.
Hades glared at him his golden eyes showing his full annoyance, “Hardly but seeing as how she is always tagging along with the two of us I had to make sure it wouldn’t be something embarrassing.  Unlike you I actually care what people think of me and the company I keep.”
Her discomfort turned to anger in a flash and she snapped, “Tagging along, ha as if I’d bother to follow the likes of you Hades.  I deal with you because Hyth considers you a friend nothing more!”
He just gave a feral smile, “On that we are of one mind.” he responded, “But such annoyance aside I did mean what I said it is beautiful.  Keep making things like that and I may not be as bothered by you being around.”
She gritted her teeth, furious with herself that she had let him get under her skin like that.  “You can be sure I will and better, I’ll show you that you aren’t as great as you think you are!”
“Please both of you,” Hythlodaeus pleaded, “Lets not argue or start snapping at each other,”
“Very well, I will Hyth,” she responded shoving her annoyance away for his sake.
“If you insist,” Hades sighed, “Besides it is about to be lights out so we best all be getting to our rooms.”
As if summoned by his words the chime to alert students to return to their dorms rang out through the halls of the Anyder.  Aridane withdrew her aether from the crystal and the flower dispersed its aether returning to the great river since it no longer needed to retain its form.  She then put the crystal back into the desk and strode out.  
As she passed him Hades realized that the flower’s dispersing aether was the same color as it’s creator’s.  That in his mind made it even more beautiful for it meant she poured some of herself into its creation.
“Aridane,” he called as he followed Hythlodaeus out. She paused then turned to face him her green eyes guarded beneath her mask, “That flower really is beautiful, I hope the Bureau approves it.”
She stared at him a moment confused before saying, “Thank you Hades.”
Hythlodaeus just beamed at the both of them and they rolled their eyes at him before going their separate ways to their dorm rooms.
As she made her way there Aridane looked up at the great river and smiled as she saw the flowers aether flow into the river its white and golden hues adding a splash of brilliance amidst the other myriad of colors that surrounded it.  Hers were not the only eyes that saw that as well as Hades and Hythlodaeus stared into the sky at the beautiful infinite river.
*********************************************************************************
Spoilers beneath cut mostly allusions to events in patch 5.2
Suisei wandered about the crystal filled room while Y’shtola attempted to reactivate the ancient device.  For some reason she felt drawn away from the rest of the group by a familiar feeling aether.  
Naught here should feel familiar she thought to herself as she made her way through the banks of crystals each brimming with varying aethers within.  She followed the feeling until she stopped before a crystal glowing with a white and golden hue.
What? she asked herself as she reached for it without thinking.  Suddenly it glowed and she jumped back drawing her staff preparing for the worst.  Instead of a beast however there was naught but a single flower.  A Lotus with pale white petals surrounding a golden center.  Cautiously she approached it and picked it up.  There was something naggingly familiar about the plant but for the life of her she couldn’t place why.
“What have you got there?” Ryne’s voice asked from behind her
Suisei turned toward the girl and said, “I....I do not know some sort of Lotus it...it was in one of these crystals.”
“Ryne, Suisei there you are,” Alphinaud stated as he came up to the two of them, “Shtola wanted a to speak to us all but you two had disappeared.
“Sorry Alphinaud, I had sensed something and thought to investigate it, it would seem it was naught more than this flower.”  Suisei responded holding out the Lotus.
“Well it certainly is different, as what you were sensing from it however, I cannot fathom for it seems an ordinary if not unusual Lotus bloom.” 
Suisei’s brow furrowed, “Aye, it does.....I....had felt a familar aether and thought to look for it.”
Alphinaud frowned, “Bring it to the others let us see if there is aught more to it than meets our eyes.  And, again Y’shtola wished a word with all of us.”
She nodded in response and they both followed him back to where the others were near the ancient recorder.  Y’stola’s announcement was simple she desired to remain here to see what more she could glean concerning Elidibus and Venat from the device and she urged the others to return to the Crystarium to keep an eye on ‘Ardbert’s’ actions.
As the others began to make their way back through the Anyder to Bismark Suisei turned to Y’shtola asking, “Shtola could you take a look at this please and tell me if there is something strange about it?”
“What exactly....” the miqo’te began but then her eyes widened, “Why are you concentrating a bit of your own aether in you hand?”
“My....” Suisei started, “I am holding a flower.....one that came from one of these crystals stored here....I....my aether are your sure?”
The miqo’te nodded, “Aye....” she then paused a moment before continuing, “We know that we are fragments of the original souls that inhabited this star and that these crystals house the concepts to be drawn upon in the act of creation.  So it stands to reason that one could find perhaps a concept made by ones past self....”
Suisei nodded, “And I have ever been sensitive to aether so perhaps I sensed it due to that.”
“Would you perchance be willing to leave that here?” Shtola asked, “Perhaps it could give me a better understanding of how this storage method worked and unlike the other concepts that were called forth this one is intact.”
Suisei handed the blossom over to Shtola without hesitation, “Its yours, please be careful Shtola...who knows what else might be stored here.”
The miqo’te nodded, “Fear not dear friend I have no intention of finding out.  Now go the others are waiting.”
The Au’ra nodded and turned to catch up with the others questions swirling in her mind.  Was it just her aetheric sensitivity that drew her to that crystal or was it some forgotten memory?  And why did she have a sense of sorrow and pride when she looked upon the Lotus?
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sobeautifullyobsessed · 5 years ago
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Stephen is in desperate need of some TLC as he nears the end of his search for the one timeline where the Avengers defeat Thanos...
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Inexorably, the burden of that bitter knowledge, and the continual isolation of his solitary mission, brought Stephen to the brink of debilitation, the ache in his heart become quite literal.  Though he managed to hide the depth of his despair from Wong on his periodic visits back to Earth, there was no hiding it from himself. He recognized that he needed more than rest for his mind, body, soul. Now he craved sympathy and understanding.  Consolation.  Some show of tenderness, sourced from a loving heart—so that his own heart harkened back to the sound of Hope’s voice calling to him from outside the Sanctum door, like a sweet promise that she could be the perfect balm for the inescapable ache perpetually centered in his chest.
Still, he was extremely cautious the first several times he opened that door, for Hope’s sake and for what might be the collateral effect their interaction could have upon the timeline.  Stephen could see without her needing to speak a word, how the events of the past few days had worn her down.  That she had been frightened and sleep-deprived at first, and now was clearly exhausted, but calm and brave enough to chance a trip across the city—a good portion of which she must’ve done on foot, given the disarray Wong had described as having fallen upon the streets outside.  Each time she had come to him, she had let her backpack slide to the floor before moving into his open arms, her voice muffled as she pressed her face against his shoulder, telling him how happy and relieved she was to see him alive.  Stephen would close his eyes as he rocked her gently, her body in his arms vital with beautiful life, a fierce little flame that clung to him and warmed his heart and banished for that little while the weight of the task that he could never escape.
Soon she would raise her head, and back away enough to observe him, her eyes widening as she noted the bloody gash and cuts on his face, and then reached with soft, tentative fingers to soothe his brow.  Hope’s concern for him was palpable, and she swiftly reversed their roles, leading him to sit beside her on that same, long settee where Tony Stark had listened to Wong tell the story of the Infinity Stones.
Sometimes, the words spilled from his mouth in a rushed jumble, so that she had to take his face in her hands to get him to slow down and try to make some sense.  Other times, Stephen had told her he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, and that he’d rather sit a while and just hold her.  Holding on.  Memorizing the spray of pale freckles across the bridge of her nose, and the stands of dark honey threaded through her auburn hair, and how her voice caught when she didn’t want to break down again, doing her best to be strong for his sake. Someone being strong for him for a change.
And sometimes what he wanted most was just to feel her needing him as simply Stephen, and would insist she share her story in full before he spoke a word of his.  Hope couldn’t tell it without the tears finally overwhelming her—so that more than once, he had held her while she trembled and cried, absorbing her grief and pain into himself—and though he was comforting her, somehow she was giving him so much more.  Perhaps because this comfort was one-on-one, uncomplicated and easy to give right from the deep well of his lonesome heart; perhaps because she was a reminder of his own humanity, a physical and emotional connection which promised that life would go on eventually—Hope representing all the beautiful things that made life worth the journey, even amidst heartbreak and pain.  And perhaps because somehow to do this for her gave him comfort of sorts, while her kind, gentle nature and her perpetual optimism—qualities which had drawn him to her from the day they’d met—restored his soul more than any interludes of meditation and sleep, at any point throughout his mission, had actually done...
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bnhascribbles · 6 years ago
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Warmth
Dabi x Reader
Fluff, Have some cold weather and gentle intimacy
Words: 678
Warnings: None
You’re buried in a mountain of blankets, yet you’re still freezing.  The December chill is a thief, stealing into your bones, sapping whatever heat your body sees fit to produce.  Desperate to escape its icy hold, you pull your arms into your chest.  Your legs seek refuge elsewhere, toes peeking out from beneath the covers to bury themselves in the back of your lover’s knee.
“Really?”  Dabi groans, twitching, but not even bothering to peer back at you.  
He hurls an arm backward, presumably to shove you away.  The gesture backfires; You grab his elbow and pull him in closer, burying your face into his back and sighing when the heat of his skin wards off your shivers.  How this man could sleep with no covers, no shirt, and still act the part of a space heater, you’d never understand.
“…isss coooold.”
He grunts, rubbing his eyes with his forearm.  “Fine.  Back up and I’ll warm you up.”
You don’t hesitate to obey.  You shimmy back on the bed, giving him just enough room to twist around and face you.  Not even a second after he turns, you press your palms to his chest, impatient.  He rolls his eyes and grabs your wrists, dragging them up to his face with very little resistance.  
You sigh when he cups your hands in his own and breathes hot air against your fingers.  His thumbs trace up your knuckles, leaving a tingly trail in their wake.  He’s only actually working on your hands, but his warmth travels–it seeps through your legs and chest and ears, leaving a cozy sort of contentment bubbling where the cold had once been.
Dabi stops too soon, glancing up at you with that mischievous glint in his eyes.  You smile and edge in closer.  
“Want me to return the favor?”
He doesn’t say anything, his arms stretching out towards you.  One hand fiddles with a stray piece of your hair while the other ghosts up the line of your jaw, his nails eliciting a whole different kind of shiver when they drag along the skin just behind your ear.  Still, he doesn’t do anything more–just stares at you expectantly.  Waiting.
So you move in, pressing your lips to his.  The act is gentle and much, much shorter-lived than you’d hoped it would be, but there’s an infinity of memories in that one, fleeting kiss.  
In the brush of his fingers, there are all the sleepless nights you’d spent waiting for him to creep back into bed.  But then, there’s the memory of waking up beside him, watching his nose twitch as sleep finally released its hold.
In his breath on your cheeks, all the times you’d whispered “Goodbye” and actually meant “Don’t go.”  Also the reunions–the bruising embraces and the kisses that never felt numerous or eager enough for you, even as they siphoned every ounce of strength from your body.
Then there’s the shape of his lips on yours, and you relive the arguments–those fiery screaming matches and glacial silences.  And the make-ups.  God, those beautiful, wonderful, fantastic moments where all the fire died down and the ice melted away.  What was left was something that was in between–not hot and not cold.  Amidst the skin sticking to skin, the hands locked together in a vice-like grip, there was nothing but warmth–pure energy that enlivened, but left no scar.
You lean back, eyes still shut, savoring the sensations–the memories–for as long as you can.  Dabi sees this and smirks, coming in close again.  He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and lingers there.
“Love you, babe.”  He whispers, low and breathy–so soft, that it would’ve been easy to write it off as the rustling of the covers or the gentle whoosh of the wind outside.
You don’t say it back, too distracted curling your arms up underneath his shoulders.  But as you bury your nose into his neck, humming into the spot where his pulse thrums just beneath the skin, it’s obvious you’re thinking it too.
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gossamie · 6 years ago
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me, you, and this lonely night.
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— summary: It’s three in the morning and Taehyung decided to call you because he wants to tell you why he can’t sleep. 
— pairing: kim taehyung x reader
— genre: fluff/angst
— word count: 1,275
— warnings: minor swearing
— notes: you have no idea how happy i was to finish this lil one-shot! i have been so busy with school lately that i have absolutely no time to write, so when i get the chance, i write as much as possible. i want to thank you guys for being so patient with me. i really hope you guys enjoy this story <3
thank you mia (aka @taenchanted) for helping me with this story! she is SUCH a talented writer and a beautiful person, please check her blog out!!
“O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.” — Christopher Marlowe
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[03:01 A.M.] (5) missed calls from TATA.
[03:03 A.M.] (8) missed calls from TATA.
[03:05 A.M.] Incoming call from TATA.
The bright white of your phone screen blinks wildly from your nightstand, the melody of your boyfriend’s ringtone acting as an alarm clock for this rude awakening. You squint at the harsh light with furrowed brows and outstretch your arm towards your phone, pressing ‘Accept’ with a groan.
“Taehyung—? What is it?” You look around. Through the translucent curtains, the sky is still pitch black and you wonder what the hell must have been so important to justify waking you up before the sun rose.
“I need to talk to you.” His voice is deep, raspy, like cerulean waves crashing against a rocky shore. You lost count of the nights you fell asleep listening to his whispers, those sweet nothings becoming your secret lullaby.
Tonight, though, you were too annoyed to be soothed.
“About wha— oh my God, it’s three in the morning? Why are you calling me now?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking of what I wanted to say and it kept me up.”
“And you couldn’t wait until the morning?”
“Nope. It’s too important to wait.”
You’re tired. Talking is the last thing you want to do right now. But no matter how exhausted or irritated or jaded you may be, you would give up every minute of sleep for him and spend every moment listening to him because it was Taehyung. You would never— and could never— say no to someone as important as him.
You will never say no to Taehyung.
As you nestled the back of your head into your pillows, you replied, “Alright. What do you want to say?”
“Well, first of all, I miss you, maybe now more than ever. I didn’t know this long-distance thing would be so hard.”
An audible sigh escapes your lips. You can’t remember the last time you and Taehyung went out on a date, nor can you remember the last time you spoke to him on something other than a phone, and those facts alone are enough to make your throat constrict with longing.
“Yeah, me neither,” you reply, trying to ignore how shaky your voice is becoming. As you speak, you put the call on speaker and place your phone on the pillow beside you in a futile attempt to replicate Taehyung speaking to you by your side.
“You know, sometimes, I feel like we were forced to put so much distance between us so soon. There are so many things I still have to say to you but I can’t and that fucking hurts.”
You’re staring at your phone, but in your mind, you’re staring at Taehyung. You envision the pain that distorts his pupils, drowning even the brightest constellations that illuminate the galaxy in his eyes, and it fills your heart with an incurable ache.
In the few months you and Taehyung have spent apart, you realized that distance is cataclysmic. It does not take long for distance to destroy a bond, especially when that bond spans oceans and mountains and an entire night sky. You would not let distance ruin your connection with Taehyung; it was a silent promise you made to both yourself and him.
It was becoming hard to keep that promise.
“Tell me, then,” you breathe. “Tell me all the things you want to say before time runs out.”
His breath hitches. After a moment, he says, “Go onto the roof of your apartment.”
You’re confused, then taken aback. “Are you fucking crazy? Did you forget that it’s three in the morning?”
“Please, Y/N. It’s the only way I can properly tell you what I want to say.”
You hesitate, but you will never say no to Taehyung, so you lift yourself off of the bed, clutch your phone in your hand, and begin to climb the fire escape to the roof.
From the top of the apartment complex, you can see Seoul sprawled out before you. It is a blur of moving cars and majesties that scrape the sky, veins of neon lights breathing life into the vibrant metropolis. Even in the night’s earliest hours, the city is still full of energy, constantly in motion, never changing.
Taehyung’s voice lifts you from your trance. “Y/N,” he murmurs in amazement, as if he, too, was caught off guard by the vitality of the city.
“Yes?” you reply.
“Look up.”
You do, and you are left breathless.
Indigo envelops every corner of the night sky; azure paints every cloud with a delicate haze. The moon and all its glow sits at its highest point in the sky, an unearthly beacon casting its ivory glow across a sapphire ocean. Somewhere in the distance, tucked away into the folds of infinity, you can see stardust swirling, planets spinning.
But this is not what takes your breath away. It is beautiful, but it is not the stars.
They are flecks of gold dancing amidst the cosmos. They are pinpricks of light that keep their secrets hidden in galaxies. They are created so exquisitely they do not seem real. They are both not of this world and all of it, both inconceivable and strangely familiar. It is perplexing, but it is captivating; it is the fabric of the universe that takes your breath away.
A moment passes before Taehyung speaks again. “When I miss you, I look up at the stars. I look up and I remember that we’re under the same sky and instantly, you don’t seem that far away anymore. I want you to know that there aren’t as many stars between us as you think. If the stars are looking down on us, we’ll never truly be apart.”
He’ll never see it, but there are tears stinging the edges of your eyes because you are so, so happy that you have someone like Taehyung.
“The stars always shine brighter for you, Y/N. They’re in love with you.” Taehyung states simply.
But then he pauses. He breathes in, breathes out. Says, “I’m in love with you.”
And then you pause. You breathe in, breathe out. Think, Why does my heart feel like a handful of flower petals, trembling with such ferocity they could fly away in the frail wind? Have these butterflies always been here before, and why are they beating their fluttering wings so fiercely? Why do I want this feeling to suffocate me, to drown me in its warmth?
You’ve never heard him say that before, so these questions spiral inside your head, but they stop because you’ve found your answer: you’re in love with him.
You tell him. You say, “I love you, too.”
When you say those four words, the sky ignites with flames of lavender; when you look up at the atmosphere, you truly believe that the stars are shining brighter for the two of you.
Taehyung laughs. It is a pure, full sound, something you want to hear for the rest of your life. “It’s you, Y/N. I want it to be you, now and forever. Can you promise me that it’ll be you, always?”
You think about always. You think about how it can always be you and him, how love can close the spaces between those six letters, how always is not impossible if it means that you can spend it with Taehyung. This is a promise that no distance could ever break, that you can and will keep, now and forever.
This is the promise you make under those brilliant stars. You promise him, “It will always be you.”
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borkingbarnes · 7 years ago
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Reaper
Summary: You’re a guider of souls, appearing in critical times or once a person’s time has come. One soul is unlike any other you’ve helped, seemingly tied to another deeply. These are your encounters with one James Buchanan Barnes.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: angst, death, but kinda peaceful in my opinion? 
Characters: Reaper!reader x Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers  
A/N: I have no idea how this happened but I’m just gonna leave this here and go bathe in my own angst. Enjoy. 
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Throughout the many millennia in which you had served, you had come across many souls. Some souls glowed bright, others lost, some angry, and some contented. It didn’t matter the colour of their skin, their age, status, nor gender in their physical life, your job was to guide them over between the world of the living to the Other Side. 
As a person neared their time, you showed up moments before their last breath, as it was their final exhale that allowed the soul to leave its physical containment. In some circumstances you showed up if a person was pushed close to or even to their breaking point, offering reassurance if needed.
Crossing over was often a confusing time for the souls. Accompanying them allowed them to feel less alone, less scared, and possibly even offered some peace. 
In all your time serving, one soul sparked your interest most. One by the name of James Buchanan Barnes. He glowed warm, yet fierce. Never had you encountered someone whose near death circumstances to be so violent or bizarre and frequent. Your first of many encounters with him had been a time in which the physical world deemed November of 1943. 
—— 
Bucky struggles against his restraints as a short man nears him with a large syringe filled with a pale liquid. He’s weak, having been subjected to weeks of gruelling torture, starvation, and experimentation. His body wants to give out, his energy drained. He’s hanging on by a thread. His breaths become shallow and he flinches as he feels the syringe puncture his neck. Moments later he’s vaguely aware that he has let out a guttural scream as he feels the blood in his veins ignite. It’s hot. Everything is burning. As if there’s lava being poured onto his body as he thrashes wildly. He can’t breathe, his lungs seizing as the burning intensifies. It’s swallowing him and he wishes with every ounce of his being that it would stop. Wishes he was dead so he wouldn’t have to endure the scalding flames any longer.  
Then, amidst the burning, he suddenly feels a wave of calm wash over him, then nothing at all as darkness consumes him. When the darkness fades, he’s standing in a room of the Hydra base, though everything seems to be surrounded in a grey hue, shimmering slightly. A woman stands near the doorway, watching him. 
“Where am I? Who are you?” He asks her, eyes searching. He suddenly feels a wave of calmness wash over him as his eyes land on her, feeling as if a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in had left his body. It’s replaced with placidity as he feels some of the tension leave his body. 
“Those questions are not of importance right now, James” she says, and he briefly wonders how she knows his name. She appears in front of him now, though he did not see her walk towards him, but he can see her eyes now. They seem to hold softness, but as he looks further into them, it’s as if he could see both the present moment and infinity and beyond reflected in them. 
“Keep fighting, James. It’s not your time yet” She says, red painted lips curving into a soft smile as she delicately touches her fingertips to his neck, where he syringe had been injected.  
He suddenly snaps awake, eyes adjusting to the sunlight filtering through the tiny window beside the table on which he lays now. Closing his eyes again, he sees the image of a beautiful woman. Hair billowing behind her, in a long black dress. She had said something to him and he desperately searched his mind for what it was. He could feel the words lingering in the back of his brain, dissipating slowly, but he just couldn’t get to them. Couldn’t remember what they were no matter how hard he tried. 
As his mind wandered back to the woman, her image began fading too, her features now blurry as if he was looking at her from underwater. He couldn’t remember what she looked like now. What colour had her hair been? He had remembered that she was in a black dress, or had it been red? He just. Couldn’t. Remember. It was as if someone had put up a barrier between him and that memory, soaked it in alcohol until it was hazy and distorted. 
“Bucky?” A distant voice says, and he briefly wondered if it was her. He blinks his eyes, his vision slowly coming into focus to see a familiar face looking down at him with concern. 
“It’s me. It’s Steve”, his friend says, and he remotely registers that his restraints have been pulled free. 
“Steve.” He says, and memories of the woman have been forgotten. 
—— 
A bullet whizzes past his ear and he could’ve sworn he saw it’s trajectory curve around him. Sworn he saw a slight glimmer, though he knew his eyes should not have even detected seeing a bullet moving as fast as it was. 
He looks through the scope of his rifle, calculating its trajectory and locating the enemy. He scrunches his brow as he sees a woman dressed in black behind his target, but when he blinks she’s gone. Quickly pushing the thought aside as he pulls the trigger, his own bullet finds its target as a hydra operative falls out of the tree before he has a chance to shoot at the blond super soldier below him. He attributes the image of the woman to lack of sleep, pushing the thought of her aside. 
“Dammit, Steve!” He yells, scrambling up from his position on the ledge as the captain directs an appreciative salute his way, effectively giving away his location. 
Maybe she had broken a rule, but she knew his soul was deeply connected with another that needed him.  
 —— 
He’s falling. The rocks and snow of the steep mountain on top of which the train he had fallen from whizzed past. He’s thrashing, desperately trying to find something to hold onto to make the inevitable fall less impactful. It’s a futile attempt as the free fall feeling in his gut intensifies. He’s too far away from any ledge. 
Then everything goes dark. 
“James” a voice says, and the darkness begins to fade. He blinks his eyes and they adjust to reveal the image of a woman beside him. She sits to his left, legs tucked as her dress flows out on the ground around her 
“Am I dead?” He whispers and she shakes her head softly. 
“No. You’ve still some time. I have come to tell you that you will find peace eventually, but I must go now. It’s not your time yet. Stay strong, James,” she says as she puts her hand on his arm gently. 
He groans, the brightness reflected upon the ground is blinding. He briefly registers that he’s being dragged along the snow, the cold seeping through his clothes, numbing him. 
“Take me with you” he whispers, though he doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Certainly not to the men dragging him. There’s just someone in the back of his mind that he’s trying so hard to remember, but can’t. 
He forgets her before his eyes close again. 
Maybe it was his best friend whom he was thinking of as another whisper passes through his lips, his mind moving on from the past memory.  
“Where are you, Steve?”  
——
“Open your eyes, James.” He registers a woman’s voice in the distance. He opens his eyes slowly, seeing her a few feet away as he searches his mind for where he was. Her hair flows with the water and though it’s dark in the depths, a light surrounds her, illuminating her silhouette. He’s underwater. He remembered being in a helicopter, but why was he underwater now? He searched his brain further, wincing as the memories came to light. 
He had been in restraints in a glass box of sorts, strapped to a chair and a man had come to see him. A psychiatrist they had said, but he knew the moment the man pulled out the red book that that was not the case. He remembered the effects of whatever Hydra had put into him beginning to take effect as the man recited the words. God, those wretched fucking words. 
“I want to rest, I’m so tired of fighting” he says to the woman. He knows her, has seen her before, a wave of familiarity washing over him. 
She shakes her head with a small smile, “Your time has not come yet, soldier. You’ve still a lot to do for this world.” She says, reaching out her hand to brush away a strand of hair from his face, her fingers grazing his forehead. He feels a slight warmth where her fingers meet his face despite the cold water that surrounds him. 
“You’ve got to get back now, James. It’s not your time” she says, her voice sounding far away now, despite being right in front of him. 
He doesn’t have time to protest. Doesn’t even have time to ask her if she’ll come with him before his eyes snap open as he winces. In his mind, the image of the woman was already beginning to fade, almost as if the memory itself had turned to dust and washed away in the water. 
He indistinctly hears a man yell “Cap” before a pair of boots came into view. Looking up, he sees his childhood best friend looking down upon him.
“Steve.” He says, though his mind is focused on something else. He’s searching for something. A memory. But he just doesn’t know what it is. It was like having a word on the tip of the tongue, but not being able to visualize it, even though its right there. He doesn’t remember it. 
——
A haze has settled around him, one that makes the colours around him turn soft, the scenery around him now almost dream-like. It’s calm, no sounds of any sort. Tranquil, he assumes the word is. His eyes wander around until they settle on a figure a few feet away.
“It’s you” he breathes, eyes meeting the woman’s.   
“We meet again, James” she murmurs, a soft smile on her face. He feels the familiarity in her presence, remembering now the past times he had seen her. She wears the same flowing dress, her features soft in the light that surrounds her, and he feels peace wash over him when she looks at him. 
“You’re real,” he breathes, though a hint of uncertainty creeps into his tone. She nods as she moves to stand in front of him. She gently reaches up to him, putting a hand on his face, and he closes his eyes momentarily, feeling the warmth of her touch spread through his entire body this time.  
“This was your life, James. You put up one hell of a fight” she says as he opens his eyes, and suddenly he sees his mother in front of him from his earliest memory. She’s smiling down at him as she holds him in her arms. 
It’s as if he’s watching a movie, but instead of a film, he watches as his own life unfolds before him, memories and emotions passing rapidly. He’s almost afraid he’ll miss something if he blinks, but each recollection seems to almost pass through him in sequential order as he watches, and he knows he won’t miss a moment. In an instant he sees Steve, the scrawny boy in an alleyway, and the next as he’s leaving for the war. He remembers each moment, seeing them unfold in front of him as they speed up and whizz by until his very last minutes. 
He’s on the battlefield in Wakanda, gun in hand. Everyone has stopped fighting, a silence hanging in the air. It’s deafening. Steve is a few feet away, eyes trained to something in the distance. He’s about to walk over to the super soldier but he feels a little odd, almost as if he’s floating.
“Steve…?” He watches himself say as Steve turns to him. He catches one final glimpse of his oldest friend before everything goes hazy for a moment. The space where Steve stood is bare now, the woman appearing where his best friend had stood. Wordlessly, she extends her hand towards him and he walks to her, grasping her outstretched hand. 
“You deserve some rest, James. It’s your time.”
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the-gay-in-the-way · 6 years ago
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The Librarians AU has evolved.
So I came up with the Librarians AU a while ago after seeing a funny tumblr post that inspired the idea.
Since then, a lot of thought has been put into it without being written out anywhere.
I’ve talked about some of it during livestreams but, since not everyone watches those, only a few people know about it.
So this post is here to correct this and also gauge just how interested people are in me actually going through with creating this story that will likely take up quite a lot of my time and focus to properly create.
It’s a very large expansion of the universe so prepare yourself for a long post filled with rambling ideas.
-----------------
So, to start off, we’ll talk about what the Sanders Sides Fanfic part of the story will be like.
And I know that sounds like a weird way for me to phrase it, but I promise that I’m using that phrasing for a reason.
Anyways, moving on.
The fanfic part of the universe takes place on an island known as Kendrith.
It’s an isolated place that isn’t marked on any maps and isn’t known to exist by many people.
The island is structured to have a few gravelly beaches at its edges, but has a full on border of sheer cliffside mountains going around the entire perimeter.
Hidden within the mountains and only accessible from a cave entrance by the docks on one of the beaches, is the town that shares the island’s name.
The town of Kendrith sits right next to a large forest surrounded by the mountains.
Everyone who lives there ended up there because there was nowhere else for them to go.
This includes a man named Mackenzie who owns the library that sits on the border between the town and the forest, slightly hidden within the trees.
He and the library have been there longer than anyone knows and Mackenzie has remained there, unchanging for quite some time after that.
It’s after quite some time of him living there as the town grows that a young man ends up sailing onto the beach in a weathered little dingy.
The man is welcomed into the town as a fellow outcast of society after he explains his current situation.
He was once a knight dedicated to protecting his King.
But then a corrupt member of the King’s court convinced him to betray the King by stealing a precious artifact from him.
The artifact was a book said to be capable of altering the future and letting its user see into the future as well.
The man went through with stealing the artifact because the court member managed to gain his trust and convince him that the artifact was causing the King, who was growing ill at the time, pain and misfortune.
The man was told that there was someone who would destroy the book once he brought it to a secret location away from the King.
But when the man came along with the book, the court member stole it and sent a collection of assassins after him.
Fortunately, the man was capable enough to both defeat the assassins and take back the book from the court member before he escaped with it.
Unfortunately, the court member had planned for this and a collection of guards from the kingdom had already been alerted by the court member’s scribe that the man had stolen the book with the intention of using it himself.
As far as the guards were concerned, the court member had gone after the man with a collection of hired fighters to keep the man from escaping.
And, by the time they arrived on the scene, the man stood amidst the corpses of both the hired fighters and the court member himself.
After this the man ran away into the nearby woods and only returned when he’d healed from the fight well enough for him to sneak into town without notice.
He returned the book to the castle and ended up meeting the King while he did so.
The King had actually been the one to adopt him into the castle.
It was because of the King’s kindness towards him when he was a child that the man decided to become a knight at an early age.
The King believed his story when he told it to him and offered to clear his name so that he could return to his life as a knight.
But, before the King could do this the next morning, he died in his sleep from the illness that still plagued him.
And the man, who had been sleeping on a chair at the King’s bedside, was blamed for causing his death.
The man then ran from the castle and ended up being cornered on the docks.
He, in turn, did the only thing he could think to do to survive.
He stole a boat and started sailing away.
But, unluckily, a storm had been approaching since early that morning and by then it was in full swing as the wind and rough waves dragged his boat roughly through the sea for several days before it washed up on the island of Kendrith.
His story convinced the townspeople to welcome him fully and he ended up offering his services as a knight to them, to protect the town and it’s inhabitants in return for their kindness.
His offer was accepted and he came to live in a small shack he built alongside the townspeople within the forest near the entrance to the docks.
Just so that I don’t have to keep calling him “the man” all the time, I’ll tell you now what you’ve probably already figured out, the man’s name is Virgil and he doesn’t have any sort of special magical abilities or heritage.
He just spent a large portion of his life training as hard as he could to become a good knight.
After becoming a part of the town, Virgil starts regularly visiting the library and spending time with Mackenzie.
Over time, Virgil ends up spending almost all of his time in the library or out patrolling the island.
So, eventually, Mackenzie tells Virgil the truth about the library and his seeming inability to age or die.
Mackenzie is actually a Librarian.
Not a normal run of the mill one, but a Librarian of Existence.
These Librarians are tasked with watching over and maintaining a few select magical books.
The Book of Foresight, which allows you to see and manipulate the future.
The Book of Hindsight, which allows you to see and manipulate the past.
The Book of Creation, which allows you to create anything out of nothing.
The Book of Manipulation, which allows you to manipulate any person or object.
The Book of Infinity, which holds infinite power and allows you to gain powers suited to you alongside complete immortality.
And the Book of the End, which allows you to have complete control over life and death itself.
Each book is only capable of functioning and offering its powers to its Librarian when it has collected other actual books and artifacts or, essentially, knowledge itself and shared its knowledge with others.
The more the knowledge is shared the more power the book has.
It’s up to the book’s Librarian to collect this knowledge and share it with other people.
Mackenzie has been the Librarian of Infinity for thousands of years by then.
That’s why the library was so large and immaculate.
It holds all of the knowledge he’s collected and previously kept stored within the book itself.
He’d created the library to hold it all in a single place he could settle into.
And he’d decided to settle himself on Kendrith after thousands of years of wandering the world because he came to fall in love with a magical being that lived in the forest.
The being was the guardian of the island and his name was Ansley.
Mackenzie met Ansley after finding himself stranded on the island during a storm.
The two had grown close quickly and Mackenzie had decided to stay there easily.
But, sadly, he could only see Ansley when he gained a physical form during a full moon.
There was a way for Ansley to give Mackenzie the ability to always see him and for them to, in turn, always be together, but it involved Ansley turning Mackenzie into his follower by feeding him his blood after death.
And Mackenzie couldn’t die while being the Librarian of Infinity, nor was he willing to give up his role without giving it to a successor first.
So, when he learns to trust Virgil and sees him as someone suited to taking on the role, he asks him to become his apprentice.
Virgil ends up accepting and spends a few years as Mackenzie’s apprentice before Mackenzie does the ceremony that would free him from his role as the Book’s Librarian and Virgil does the ceremony that would make him the new Librarian.
There can be multiple Librarians for a single book, but Mackenzie wants Virgil to be the sole Librarian from the get go.
After the ceremonies are complete, Virgil and Mackenzie say their goodbyes and Virgil promises that he’ll go and visit both Mackenzie and Ansley whenever there’s a full moon, since Mackenzie will also only have a physical form during full moons when he becomes Ansley’s follower.
Mackenzie then leaves the town after saying goodbye to everyone else as well, without giving any explanation past it being his time to leave.
From then on, Virgil takes on the role of Librarian for both the Book of Infinity and for the townspeople.
He gains immortality and a collection of magical abilities the Book deemed suitable for him to have.
(End of Part One.)
--------------------
That’s right, this is the first part of my incredibly long explanation of what will be happening with the Librarians AU.
This part was mostly about world building for the AU itself and for Virgil specifically.
Mackenzie and Ansley too, I suppose.
But it was mostly about Virgil.
So, yeah, the rest of the explanation will be done in a few other parts, since this one is already starting to get pretty long and I don’t want to give you the longest wall of text that ever existed just so that I can explain this entire universe.
In the meantime, while I work on writing out the other parts and articulating the story a bit more for them, feel free to ask me questions or offer critiques for this part of it all.
Did you like the ideas in it?
Did you think some of it was a little too weird?
Did you think it was kind of boring?
Do you wanna see more for this universe?
I’m more than happy to get any input you guys are willing to offer me, so please feel free to offer some.
Thanks for reading this, if you did.
Here’s the gen taglist.
​ @a-snoway-afternoon @ashrain5 @virgilscat @gumdrop2113@chelama @dragonsight9 @marse-422 @derpiest-unicorn @i-identify-as-a-mango @fearfilledvirgil@lunariadyva-multifandom-blog @blitzgamev @the-life-ofa-troubled-ace @satanblessi 
Please tell me if I missed you or if you’d like to be added to either the gen list or the Librarians AU list.
A Bed of Links:
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Cerillen
Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerillen/pseuds/Cerillen
Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPz4p5XdoRESDKZeMDnWXFQ
Discord: https://discord.gg/FsUhc5f
---------------
(Preview to Part Two)
This AU actually has a romantic pairing in it.
So that’ll be fun for all of you guys who are fans of “Hey, romance for once.” post I made a while ago.
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noirlevity · 3 years ago
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Scent chapter 13
Pairing: TadaAi
Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity
Synopsis: Ainosuke once loved Tadashi, but ever since he broke his heart, he decided to never have anything to do with him. But what happens if he meets him again after so many years and finds out a secret that will change both of their lives forever?
Chapter summary: Ainosuke and Tadashi continue their weird sleeping arrangement despite being in a middle of a quarrel.
Tags: Omegaverse, forced bonding, forced marriage, sorta angst, slow burn, sorta reversible but I am for top!Tadashi so maybe no explicit smut with bottom Tada in the future
Read: AO3 || 1 2 3 4 4.5 4.6 4.7 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Tadashi wakes up to a sweet familiar scent. When he opens his eyes, he sees Ainosuke sleeping beside him. It gives his heart a kick when he realizes their faces were close. He tried to rise but he couldn’t. The younger man’s arm is splayed over his chest. The weight was preventing him from moving.  He lays back down and stares at Ainosuke’s sleeping face. He should be used to this sight by now but for some reason, he still feels weird when he looks at his sleeping face. 
 However, it was not the time to feel flustered and have butterflies in his stomach. What he did was unforgivable and negligent. What would he have done if something bad happened to Ainosuke? What an idiot he was. Talk about protecting Ainosuke-sama. How long were they out cold? When he checked his watch he feels relieved they still had 10 minutes left. 
 He pushes Ainosuke’s arm away. As he sits up, Ainosuke’s suit jacket that covers him slips on his shoulder. Tadashi hasn’t noticed it but now he has.  The realization that his master was the one who must have carried him to the bed and covered him with the suit filled him with shame.
To fend off the feeling, Tadashi roams his eyes inside the room to search for Yuki but he was nowhere to be found. The room was quiet so for sure he wasn’t inside the bathroom. He shifts his eyes to Ainosuke’s figure on the bed and frowns. 
 He wasn’t expecting that the two of them would be alone. He wasn’t expecting him to do what he had done and it fills him with a pang of warmth that was hard to ignore. It blooms amidst the shame that he felt earlier and it's making him feel an itch in his insides. A soft blush color his cheeks. Tadashi bites his lip and does the unthinkable: he reaches out to gently run his fingers on Ainosuke's soft hair and kisses him on the mouth. Coldness seeped through him as he withdrew. He knows that he shouldn’t be doing this but he just couldn’t resist. 
 It was now time to go. Tadashi stands up. He fixes himself and carries Ainosuke out of the hotel room.
 -----
 As though there was no alpha attack whatsoever, Ainosuke continued to go out and meet people. In one of his night outs, Ainosuke got introduced to a woman. She was a pretty, tall girl with a nice figure. After several meetups, they started seeing each other continuously. Sometimes, Ainosuke would meet Yuki but lately, he was always hanging out with her. Tadashi didn't know whether he sleeps with her or not. He just knows that Ainosuke must feel comfortable with her to visit her all the time.
 As time passed, Tadashi noticed that the woman was becoming interested in him. Whenever there was an opportunity, she would try to strike up a conversation with him. There were also times when she would just unnecessarily stick close to him which made him uncomfortable. But work was work. It wasn’t always free of trouble. 
 He makes his way to their room and knocks.
 “It’s me, Kikuchi."
 The door opens. He hears the lilt in the woman’s voice as she tells Ainosuke  Tadashi was already there to pick him up. 
 “Come in Kikuchi-san.”
 He comes in and notices that Ainosuke was already preparing to go. He bows his head in greeting.  Just like usual, the woman strikes up a conversation with him. He gave short answers to her questions enough to show interest. This response was effective. The woman looked happy. She leans in to whisper something, bringing with her the thick smell of perfume that reminded him of the color lime green. 
 “I like you." The woman's voice felt hot in Tadashi's ear. 
 “Call me.” She put her calling card in Tadashi's breast pocket. Tadashi did not know how to react. He was always at a loss when it came to things like this. When the woman leaned in for a kiss on the cheek, Ainosuke pulled the woman off of him in time. 
 “Let’s go Tadashi.” Ainosuke states and practically pushes Tadashi out of the room.
Tadashi bows at the woman and excuses himself.
 As they walked to the car. Ainosuke stops and pulls the calling card out of Tadashi pocket. He tears the paper into pieces. 
 "Do you always have people come on to you like this?"
 "Not often."
 "Not often or you just don't realize it?"
 Tadashi swallows a lump in his throat and looks away. The two silently walked to the car.
 As they drove, Ainosuke was still in a bad mood. What was the matter? Did something happen? Was he unsatisfied with this one too? Tadashi didn’t know. He had no idea what comes into Ainosuke’s mind when he meets up with people like this. Tadashi is always conscientious enough to remind him about the danger of being out and about. Thank goodness nothing happened so far. There was no news of alpha attacks. It may be because the government implemented stricter laws on these drugs and investigation was going in the positive direction. 
 That was a relief. At least there is a positive development. Tadashi knows that he shouldn't be complacent though. The grand party was coming. Who knows what was in store for them. 
 He steals a glance at Ainosuke and ends up accidentally meeting his eyes. He immediately look away. Truthfully things were awkward between the two of them ever since Tadashi was given the task to make sure Ainosuke would choose a marriage candidate. Despite the awkwardness, they still continued to sleep beside each other. Tadashi makes it a point to go inside the room after Ainosuke tucks himself in bed. But Ainosuke waits patiently for him. Even if he was mad at him he still waited patiently. He still listens to Tadashi telling him the things he likes about him and purrs like a cat when the secretary gives him his back rubs. Some people would say this is a weird arrangement. They are neither lovers nor friends after all. The only thing that makes this all possible is their bond.
 He can't sleep without Ainosuke anymore. For sure it was also the same for Ainosuke. 
 Despite this, Tadashi still continues to hand him the list of marriage candidates. Tadashi knows his actions may seem heartless and insensitive but he thinks it is all for the best. Ainosuke didn't get angry anymore, he just immediately threw it out. Because of his master's refusal to even look into the list, there were times Tadashi had to lie.
 Time was running out. Tadashi knows this. He thinks about what the doctor asked about Ainosuke's reaction towards him when he was attacked. He clenched his hand on the steering wheel and  caught sight of the reddish marks on his hand. Those marks were a reminder that sooner or later, he has to make a difficult choice. He had a feeling that the doctor was already suspicious of him. He might have already talked about it with Ainosuke. What would he do if he was forced to leave before he made sure Ainosuke was secured?
 Tadashi didn’t know why he was still doing this. He remembers he was giddy when he heard Ainosuke was coming back. He was somehow happy as well despite the fact that he should not. A lot has changed between them. Years have gone by since they last saw each other. He isn't the Tadashi Ainosuke used to know nor Ainosuke was the Ainosuke of Tadashi's past. He was no longer the boy he loved and adored. 
 They make a turn on the road. Tadashi sighs and continues to drive. He thinks that maybe he should go home for the day. When they arrived at the mansion, he tells Ainosuke that he needs to go back to his own apartment. He has to go to the doctor for his monthly check-up and to take a break but he doesn't tell him this.
 Ainosukes just glares at him. Tadashi looks down at his feet but rather than hear Ainosuke's footsteps walking away, he feels a tug instead. 
 “Young master!” It was a plea. It confuses Tadashi at first. But when he finally hears the gasps from the maids as Ainosuke drags him inside the house, he fills chills run down his spine. What if the madams heard about this? Just the thought of it makes him feel cold all over. When they take a turn towards his bedroom, he pulls his hand away. 
 “Ainosuke-sama,” he tries to wrench out his hand but Ainosuke won’t let him go. Heart hammering in his chest. He tries again, “Ainosuke-sama!” this time with a raised voice. 
 “Please let me go.”
 “If I don’t? You’re just a dog aren’t you? If I say you’re not going somewhere then you're not going anywhere.”
 Tadashi trembles. He goes quiet as the strength in Ainosuke tightens around his wrist.
 “What’s with the look?” Ainosuke lifts Tadashi’s pale face. 
 “Are you scared of me? But you easily agree to what  my old man tells you to do?”
 Things left forgotten begin to rise to the surface. Tadashi's breathing becomes labored as memories flashed in his mind. It has been a long time since he felt like this so he was completely caught off guard. The only thing that he could think about was how embarrassed he was of himself. His head hurts and he feels like vomiting. As he tries to calm himself down, he falls down on his knees. 
 Ainosuke stands there mortified at what he witnessed. Tadashi’s body trembled and he looked like he was in pain. The sight makes Ainosuke panic. He didn’t know what to do.
Ainosuke drops his hand and steps back. 
 “Tadashi?”
 When Tadashi didn’t respond he kneeled and hesitantly pulled him in his arms. Tadashi felt the warmth of Ainosuke’s arms. He smells the sweet scent and burrows his head against the younger man’s chest. As his consciousness fades, the din of Ainosuke's voice shouting for help was the only thing that filled the emptiness that engulfs him. 
—--
 For the first time in a while, Tadashi wakes up alone in his bed. He sits up and remembers what happened. Soon, Natsuno and Take enter the room. Tadashi was surprised that Take was there. Take didn't look pleased. At the sight of Tadashi, his weary face softens.
 “How do you feel?”
 Tadashi hesitates. Ainosuke comes to mind.
 “Where is Ainosuke-sama?”
 Natsuno and Take exchange worried glances.
 “He’s in his room. He gave you permission to leave. That’s why Sato-san is here.”
 Tadashi fiddles with his hand. 
 “Let’s go home? You haven’t been going to the hospital haven’t you?”
 Tadashi held his own hand. 
 “There was no time lately.”
 He was planning to go home for a check up but it is impossible now.
“Natsuno-san, please tell your master that Tadashi is going to have a 3 day break. I’ll bring him to the doctor.
 “You haven't been sleeping well haven’t you?”
 “Take... I’ll … I’ll take a break after the banquet."
The banquet will be held two weeks from now. All he needs to do is endure for a bit. The stress makes him feel odd at times. He knows he shouldn't drink too much medicine but he feels he needs to especially since he sleeps with Ainosuke. Who knows what will happen if he doesn't? He was afraid of losing control just like he did when Ainosuke was attacked and that time he stole a kiss from him.
 Seeing Tadashi clearly has made up his mind, Take can only sigh. He reaches out to hold his hand. 
 ”But I’ll take you home for today okay?” Tadashi steals a glance at Natsuno. Natsuno nods in ascent.
 The nod meant that he should go home for now and that Ainosuke has allowed him to do so but Tadashi remains contemplative. He remembers Ainosuke's desperate grip on his wrist when he said he didn't want him to go. Even though things were difficult between the two of them, he can't just abandon him. Not now that it seems he needs him. Tadashi doesn't have any idea why this was so. Ainosuke was clearly angry at him for giving him that document.
 “I’ll just stay here. I’m fine. Maybe I'm just tired earlier.”
 Tadashi didn’t want to inconvenience Ainosuke any more than he already has. It was bad enough that he remembered what he shouldn’t have remembered but it will pass. Just like it always does. 
 “I’m fine. You should go home.” He holds Take’s hand.
 “Tadashi... Ah... I give up.
 "You better take a break after the banquet, okay?”
 “I will.”
 Natsuno led Take out of the room. When the two of them were out of sight, Tadashi laid back down and closed his eyes. Surely after what happened Ainosuke probably won’t come back in the room. 
 At his desk, Tadashi notices that Ainosuke left his suit jacket. So he was here earlier. Feeling a sense of concern from his master, he feels safe. He remembers how gentle he held him in his arms when he was struggling to breathe. The memory makes him want to feel the warmth of his embrace again. It must be impossible now because he made him angry. Maybe it would suffice if he covered himself with Ainosuke’s suit. While he wanted it, he was hesitant. He knows he shouldn’t. 
 Instead, Tadashi drinks his medicine. He tries to sleep but the absence of Ainosuke’s scent disturbs him. He turns to look at the suit jacket and then looks away. He thinks that maybe he should go to Ainosuke. Tadashi decides on the latter. He stands up and makes his way to Ainosuke’s room. Staring at the patterns of his large door, he knocks.
 There was no answer. 
 Tadashi doesn't wait for a response, he lets himself in. The door creaks. Ainosuke's wide back comes to view as the door opens. Hearing the door click, Ainosuke gave him a sidelong glance. He circles the wine glass in his hand. 
 “I thought you went home.”
 Tadashi looked at his feet. 
 “You said you didn’t want me to.”
 Silence.
 “Are you going to sleep here? Let’s go back to my room."
 Ainosuke doesn’t respond at first. He sneers and then chuckles. He circles, walks around the room and  takes a full swig off his glass. He puts it down on the table and walks towards Tadashi. Tadashi doesn’t dare raise his eyes. 
 “Tadashi, don't ever forget your place in this house. A dog doesn’t have an opinion.”
 “Yes, Ainosuke-sama.”
 This exchange was something Tadashi was expecting of course. But somehow he still hopes Ainosuke could at least be gentle. Seconds passed by. Ainosuke didn’t move. He was still there standing in front of Tadashi. Tadashi was beginning to wonder what he was up to. Suddenly, Ainosuke placed his hand on Tadashi’s chest. The clothes wrinkled in his grasp. When he tightens his grip, Tadashi hears sirens. Wanting to see Ainosuke’s face, Tadashi looks up and sees Ainosuke’s eyes staring directly at him. 
 “How do you feel?”
 Tadashi swallows the hesitation back. 
 “I feel fine.”
 “Good. You can go back and rest. I’ll sleep here for today. It’s been a long time since I slept alone.”
 “But..”
 “You can go, Tadashi. I want to be alone.
 "What's with that kicked puppy look?"
 Tadashi grabs him by the wrist and drags him to the door.
 "Hey!"
 "You told me to stay and I did. 
 "You told me to act like before when it's just the two of us and I'm…"
 His words were cut off by a pull. Ainosuke hugged him from the back.
 "You can be so bold sometimes it's infuriating. 
 "I'll go back if you kiss me."
 Tadashi looks over his shoulder.
 "You can't do it, can you? Now please leave me..."
 Ainosuke was caught off guard by a sudden pull. He feels a soft peck on his cheek.
 "Would that suffice?"
 Ainosuke blinks.
 "Of course not." He lifts Tadashi's face up and kisses him on the mouth.
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mariaclaragomez276 · 4 years ago
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Our lockdown reading list: 5 travel books to keep you inspired
As the UK joins other countries around the world by entering its second national lockdown later this week, SLH’s Digital Image & Content Executive, Chloe Frost-Smith, shares her favourite travel-inspired books so that you can still let your imagination wander to warmer places.
The Riviera Set, Mary S. Lovell
Following the star-studded life and loves of American actress Maxine Elliott, whose rather outrageous Château de l’Horizon near Cannes became the stylish centre of early 20th century high society escapades from partying to painting, The Riviera Set is a wonderfully nostalgic portrait of the Côte d’Azur. Bask in the Mediterranean sunshine from the comfort of your own home, while getting to know the likes of Winston Churchill and the Windsors in a more leisurely, laid-back setting as they gamble away their fortunes in the Monte Carlo casino, or on the racehorses of Prince Aly Khan.
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Bookmark: Experience the art deco glamour in modern day Saint-Tropez at Hôtel Lou Pinet, a vintage-inspired art-filled haven away from the crowds but close to the best beaches.
Queen of the Desert: The Extraordinary Life of Gertrude Bell, Georgina Howell
There are few people in history who would have a curriculum vitae quite like Gertrude Bell’s – an Oxford University graduate who was fluent in Arabic and Persian, an archaeologist, poet, photographer, diplomat, cartographer and nation builder, Bell became the architect of the independent kingdom of Iraq in 1921. From the British embassies of Tehran and Cairo, to the remote dunes and Bedouin tribesmen of Palestine and Syria, this impeccably researched biopic transports readers on a historical journey through the Middle East and the reinvention of Mesopotamia. Adapted for the screen in 2015, Nicole Kidman saunters through a slow-paced series of sensationally shot desert scenes alongside Robert Pattinson (as T.E. Lawrence), Damian Lewis and James Franco. It’s worth a watch purely for Kidman’s period costumes and the wanderlust-worthy setting, most of which was filmed in Morocco.
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Bookmark: Living up to its Arabic translation as the ‘House of Dreams’, Dar Ahlam is a terracotta-coloured traditional Kasbah on the fringes of the Sahara Desert, where a world of wilderness awaits – sleep under the stars in a luxury tent after travelling more than 1,000km of desert routes by camel or on the back of an Arabian stallion, or sit beside the shores of Ouarzazate Lake beneath a private tent with a personally prepared picnic spread.
Sea and Sardinia, D.H. Lawrence
For a man who supposedly didn’t “care for islands”, Lawrence’s fleeting visit to Sardinia in 1921 while living in exile on Sicily from England might just prove otherwise. Behind his sometimes disgruntled descriptions lies an admiration for the “strange and rather wonderful” Cagliari, which I was fortunate enough to visit myself in September this year. Acting as a foil for the narrator, Lawrence’s wife Frieda (who is fabulously referred to as “Queen Bee”) accompanies him on the trip and falls in love with Sardinia, a place quite unlike Italy or anywhere else for that matter, with a patchwork history belonging to the Romans, Carthaginians, and the Saracens.
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Bookmark: Just an hour’s drive from Cagliari, the island’s capital, lies La Villa del Re – an exclusive adults-only resort with a private beach and sea-facing infinity pool. Read about Chloe’s visit here.
Under the Tuscan Sun, Frances Mayes
I was enamoured with everything about Tuscany long before reading Under the Tuscan Sun, following a childhood visit filled with cypress-lined horse riding trails through fragrant forests and over rolling hills, but the memories came flooding back when I picked up Mayes’ long celebrated novel for the first time. A passionately written memoir of her life in the Tuscan countryside spent restoring Bramasole, an abandoned villa with faded frescoes and its own vineyard, Mayes gives readers a true taste of rural Tuscany – including dozens of seasonal recipes, all made using ingredients from her garden or the vibrant local markets.
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Bookmark: A grand estate huddled amidst the green hills on the Umbrian-Tuscan border, rooms at Castello di Reschio come courtesy of nine bespoke farmhouses dotted across a 1,500-hectare landscape. Feast on locally-inspired dishes at the Alle Scuderie restaurant, which prides itself on using homemade produce – including honey, olive oil, pasta, and wine, to the sound of Andalusian horses cantering by. 
Bitter Lemons of Cyprus, Lawrence Durrell
An autobiographical account of his time in Cyprus, Lawrence Durrell navigates the turbulence of the Enosis movement during the 1950s for freedom of the island from British colonial rule with poetic artistry, moving from a light-hearted beginning of colourful local characters towards a darker, deeper reflection on imperialism. Step into a poignant memoir of idyllic island life, with beautifully described clifftop villages, Mediterranean trees, flowers, and beaches, and all the natural beauty of this heady landscape. Get to know his eccentric family and the picturesque corners of the island’s coast on screen in ITV’s The Durrells, which concluded with a fourth and final season last year.
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Bookmark: Modelled on a traditional Cypriot village, Columbia Beach Resort sits on a vast beach surrounded by impressive white cliffs overlooking the Mediterranean Sea – while Londa Beach Hotel weaves authentic touches like local antiques and Cypriot lace on the bed linen into its hip interiors.
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